Unholy Pact

Heaven and Hell 3: Unholy Pact Emma Ray Garrett All rights reserved. Copyright ©2006 Emma Ray Garrett No part of thi...

Author: Garrett Emma Ray

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Heaven and Hell 3: Unholy Pact Emma Ray Garrett All rights reserved.

Copyright ©2006 Emma Ray Garrett

No part of this e-book may be reproduced or shared by any electronic or mechanical

means, including but not limited to printing, file sharing, and email, without prior

written permission from Changeling Press LLC.

ISBN (10) 1-59596-382-0

ISBN (13) 978-1-59596-382-6

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Publisher:

Changeling Press LLC

PO Box 1561

Shepherdstown, WV 25443-1561

www.ChangelingPress.com

Editor: Crystal Esau

Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience. Changeling Press E-Books are for sale to adults, only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

Chapter 1 God, how he longed for this woman! Her soft flesh and coarse language had haunted him every moment of every day for the last two fortnights. He couldn’t get her out of his head or out of his blood. His cock throbbed painfully. He needed to bury his flesh between her legs. It was the only way to ease this obsession. “Michael.” Her husky voice drew him from the last vestiges of sleep. “Gemma.” He rolled over in bed, the soft linen skimming over his cock, pushing him to the edge. His body wept with desire for her, pre-come seeping from the slit in his erection. “Come here, woman.” He watched each step she made toward him, the gentle bounce of her luscious breasts, the slow shake of her feminine hips. His cock twitched with anticipation. She slid herself onto the bed, and that was as long as he could wait. He pulled her against him, hard. Shoving his hands into her short locks, he brought her mouth to his, showing no restraint. His lips slid over hers, pressing hard against her full mouth, thrusting his tongue between her lips and into her mouth. Their tongues tangled in an erotic dance, and she shifted her body closer to his. Throwing her leg over his hip, she ground her wet pussy against his length, making them both groan. Their hands rushed along each other’s bodies, wanting to touch, stroke, caress every inch of hot skin. He pulled his mouth from hers and bit at the flesh of her throat. She threw her head back and moaned loudly. “Yesss…” Michael slid his cock along her slippery lower lips, pushing between them to find her hard, little clit with the head of his dick. Once he found it, he set up a rhythm of thrusts against the sensitive flesh. Her cunt grew wetter, the lubrication making each pass of his cock smoother, more fluid, more arousing. He kept up his stroking, as he slid his mouth down her neck, to her tight nipples.

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He took the first one between his teeth, biting down gently and relishing in her keening reaction. Gemma pushed herself harder against his cock, and twisted her hands into his long hair, tearing it free from its bindings. The pain of her fists wrapped in his hair spurred Michael on. He moved to the other breast, licking and sucking at the dark pink nipple until she begged him to give her more. “Please, Michael. I need more. I need you. Fuck me!” He rolled them until she lay beneath him, weaving their fingers together and pinning her to the bed. “I can’t wait, Gemma.” He growled the words, fighting himself, holding himself back from stuffing his cock into her ready body, hard and fast. “Please, now!” “Look at me.” When her cerulean eyes met his, he felt the click of connection. Everything was right, finally, with this woman in his arms. He pulled back from her body and fit the thick head of his cock against the opening of Gemma’s wet pussy. She drew her legs up and wrapped them around his waist. Without breaking eye contact, he eased his aching cock into her sizzling hot, weeping cunt. When he was in to the balls, he gave a little thrust and felt the hard press of her cervix against the crown of his dick. “Can you taste me?” Gemma’s eyes glazed a bit and she rocked her hips against his. “Not yet. Give me more, Michael.” He pulled out and stilled. She bit her lip and lifted her hips from the bed. The slight trickle of red from her lip lit into him like a lightning bolt, breaking his resolve to go slow. He slammed into her as hard and deep as their bodies would allow. “Oh, yes!” “Gemma!” His hands tightened around hers, no doubt bruising her skin. But she gripped him just as hard, her short nails piercing his skin and leaving little, bloody half-moons

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on the backs of his hands. He pulled entirely free of her slippery flesh, then plunged back in just as hard, just as deep. Her body rippled around him with each thrust. He knew she was as close as he to the explosive climax building between them. His balls drew tight against his body, and the shockwave of pleasure began to trip along his spine. Just a few more strokes and he’d finally fill her with his seed. He’d finally make her his. “Michael, I’m going to come!” Gemma screamed the words, her body contracting around him like a fist. “Gemma, yes!” One more plunge deep into her convulsing cunt and he would know true ecstasy…

*** “Ahem, I hate to interrupt, brother, but I need your help. Wake up!” “Ah, Gemma!” Michael came awake, caught in the midst of the most powerful orgasm he could remember. His body bucked against the bed, releasing copious amounts of come onto the cold, unaffected mattress. His mind whirled to clear the dream, to focus on the intruder in his room, while his body went through the motions of completion. When his release was over, he laid there with his face buried in the pillow, anger, confusion and finally, embarrassment, making him dizzy. “Damn it, Gabriel. Don’t you know how to knock?” Michael rolled off the bed, facing away from his brother Archangel while he grabbed clothing from the floor and dressed. “I did knock, several times.” The laughter in his voice was unmistakable and ratcheted up Michael’s embarrassment a couple more degrees. “Yeah, well, next time, wait for me to answer,” Michael snapped. “If she’s that good in your dreams, you might not survive her in real life.” Michael growled at the humor in Gabriel’s voice. He zipped his pants with a harsh tug, then whirled to face Gabriel. Michael snarled louder as he watched God’s General motion to the spreading wetness on the bed sheet, trying not to laugh.

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“Fuck off. What the Hell do you want, anyway? I know you didn’t come here to discuss my sexual fantasies.” Michael stalked around the bed, stopping before Gabriel and crossing his massive arms over his thick chest. “Well, not the fantasy itself but the woman who stars in them.” Gabriel tried to keep the shit-eating grin off his face. He could imagine Michael’s mortification and irritation. Gabriel acknowledged that Michael’s situation wasn’t of his making. His brother had been stuck in Heaven or at the Protectorate Academy since they’d returned from the battle with Baal last month. Rules, work, and everything else had continued to get in the way of Michael getting back to Gemma Joyce. However, a man could only ignore his drives for so long. “What about Gemma? What’s going on?” Michael’s heart skipped a beat as fear, for her, flooded his system. “Nothing that I know of, but I understand you want some time off. I assume it’s so you can go and finish whatever you started.” Michael’s hard look surprised Gabriel. “That’s none of your business. Can I have the time or not?” Michael narrowed his eyes at Gabriel, telling his brother loud and clear to butt out. “Yes, but you’ll have to wait a couple more weeks, until Uriel can take over your classes.” Gabriel noticed the telltale clenching of Michael’s jaw. The most levelheaded Archangel was getting a bit perturbed. “Fine. Two weeks and not a day longer.” Michael pushed past Gabriel and strode down the hall. Gabriel just shook his head and smiled.

Chapter 2 The loud clang of cast iron against porcelain didn’t do nearly enough to satisfy Gemma’s burning emotions. “I should have known better than to believe an angel! What the Hell was I thinking?” You’ve been thinking about fucking his brains out. And knowing better hasn’t stopped you from getting giddy every time the doorbell rings, has it? Several heavy spatulas clattered against the cast iron skillet in the rinse side of the sink, as Gemma argued with herself. “Well, he was hot. Of course I’m going to fantasize.” Yeah, but that doesn’t explain how disappointed you are when it’s the mailman at the door and not your Archangel. “Yeah, well…” Gemma’s voice drifted off, having no good argument for her conscience’s retort. My point exactly. Gemma grumbled and ran a soapy hand through her platinum hair. She had to get over Michael before she lost her mind and did something completely foreign. Like going to the Protectorate and begging him to come back… and fuck her until she couldn’t walk. Somehow, she didn’t think the Protectorate would agree that her needing a good fuck was something that required their immediate attention. In truth, the Protectorate had never paid her any notice. Then Michael had come into her life and paid her plenty of attention, disrupting her equilibrium, her order, and her thoughts. He’d gotten under her skin. He’d pissed her off, questioning her long held beliefs and calling her on her attitude, but Michael hadn’t let her mouth or her stubbornness

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steer him from his course. It didn’t matter that she’d made her dislike of angels crystal clear. Michael had stayed by her side, fighting the good fight. He’d given of himself, taking her to a mind blowing orgasm, and asking for nothing in return. However, none of those things were what made him so hard to forget. His kindness had made the deepest impact on Gemma. He’d offered her real compassion, not judgment, and he’d listened. He’d let her vent her anger and sorrow over her past without making her feel stupid or small. The hard fact was, she’d begun to care about him. Gemma sighed, rinsing her hands of soap, and left the sink. She took a coffee mug from the stand to her right and filled the cup with a hot, strong, Turkish brew from the coffeemaker and sat down at the dinette. The task of adding sugar and cream to her coffee soothed her frazzled nerves. As she watched the swirl of spinning cream lighten the coffee, she let herself reminisce. Her mother, Lilith, had abandoned her when she was eight years old. Gemma was too young to understand why her mother would choose to give up her child for her new lover. She’d begged her mother not to leave her. Her mother had given her a tiny, ancient book and told Gemma to read it, memorize it, and to survive. Lilith pressed one last kiss to Gemma’s forehead, then left her in that dark cave without a backward glance. Terrified and alone, Gemma had only the small book to keep her company. That book explained who, or rather what, she was, but it hadn’t kept her warm or safe during the cold, dark nights. Gemma was a vampire. That one word served to both titillate and terrify most mortals. Part angel and part demon, Gemma soon found she wasn’t the only vampire on Earth. It should have been good to find out she wasn’t alone, but not in Gemma’s mind. Sadly, there were hundreds of abandoned vampire children. Children Gemma called foundlings, considering she “found” many of them. The worst part for Gemma was that most other foundlings hadn’t gotten off as well as she had. Most of them were left shortly after birth, to live or die as fate decreed.

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Gemma made a decision early in her struggle to survive. She swore to herself to find and save as many foundlings as she could, and teach them who they were and where they came from. More than that, she vowed no more foundlings would die or be lost simply because their parents didn’t have the sense God gave a goat. At eight, Gemma had been strong and healthy, and in full possession of most of her vampiric gifts. She’d traveled across the Earth, stealing, begging, and cheating to survive. As she roamed, she collected foundlings. She taught them all she knew, read them the little book, and protected them. Gemma didn’t care if the other vampires decided to live in light or darkness, she just wanted to make sure they lived. And she succeeded. By the time puberty hit and Gemma came into her Singularity, she was a force to be reckoned with, backed by an army of vampires. When her Singularity manifested, Lilith had come to her. Gemma wasn’t exactly thrilled to see her again. Nonetheless, she’d granted Lilith an audience and a chance to explain. After many such meetings and a lot of emotional venting, Gemma had finally understood why her mother had done such an awful thing. She’d also learned the name of her father. The Archangel Remiel, Angel of Hope. It had been another thousand years before she’d gotten the courage to ask her mother about Remiel, only to learn that he’d left Earth some five hundred years earlier. He resided in Heaven, and since Gemma didn’t have a key to that door, she’d have to wait to meet the man who had helped create her. Gemma had asked her mother about the Protectorate though. Lilith knew little more than the little book told her. The Protectorate had been a thorn in Gemma’s side for millennia. She’d quit asking for their help centuries ago. It burned her to no end that Heaven and Hell could get together to protect humanity from loose cannons, but ignored the need for protection and nurturing of the only other thing Heaven and Hell did together regularly: create offspring. The funny part of it was her anger and disdain didn’t extend nearly as deep for demons as it did for angels. She could understand how a demon might abandon its

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offspring. After all, they were selfish and self-centered, putting their own wants and needs before all else. But for the Heavenly Host, beings that were supposedly wholly goodness and light, to do the same seemed an insult to life. So over thirty some centuries Gemma building an immense fortune, and a fortress within which to house both her money and her foundlings. Until last month, that was. Until she’d finally met an angel she couldn’t loathe. Thinking of Michael brought Gemma back to the present. The mess they’d been tossed into two fortnights ago was one Gemma did not want to repeat. Finding out that Lucifer had a vampire son wasn’t Gemma’s idea of good news. Battling a Prince of Hell, the demon Baal, had taken all of her considerable ability and talent, and still they’d almost lost. Gemma finished her coffee with a sigh. “What’s past is past, Gemma. There’s no reason to sit around here moping.” The ring of her phone sent Gemma to the living room. “Hello?” “Heya, Gem! What’s up?” Angela’s soft voice made Gemma smile. “Angie, girl, what are you doing? Is everything all right there?” Angela Hart was Gemma’s second in command, so to speak. They’d been as close as sisters for nearly five hundred years. Angela had been a rogue vampire, just into her Singularity, when Gemma had found her on the seedy streets of Paris. Vampires aged like mortals until their early twenties. Once a vampire had to take blood to survive, all aging stopped. Unluckily for Angela, that happened right on the heels of coming into her power. The combined drives to use her gift and take blood had pushed her into temporary insanity. Thankfully, Gemma had been able to get through to the young woman’s mind and calm the turmoil raging within her. Now while Gemma flitted from city to city, collecting foundlings, Angela lived at the compound and dealt with the business of raising them and making sure everything ran smoothly. Gemma’s choice for her compound’s location couldn’t have been better. Haven, the compound’s name, was situated high in the Appalachian Mountains, far from prying mortal eyes.

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“Everything’s fine, babe. I wanted to call you and let you in on some hot news. Word is, there’s a big shot demon on the loose on Earth, and he’s after a foundling.” Gemma stifled a laugh, thinking the grapevine didn’t work quite as fast as it used to. “Ange, I dealt with that last month.” “No, Gem, not Lucifer’s kid. This one’s a baby, and it’s a girl. Word is, she’s Raphael’s.” Gemma’s breath caught and seconds ticked by as she thought about what Angela had said. “Are you sure?” “Yep. I called ’cause last I heard the kid was in the care of a mage, and they’re in your vicinity. I put the word out that if anyone with a baby comes asking for help, the person asked should direct him or her to you. Is that cool?” Angela’s voice was slightly husky and concerned. “Yeah, that’s good. I’ll make it a priority to find them. Thanks, Ange. Hey, don’t let those vampy brats work you too hard. I’ll call you in a couple of days.” “Okay, I’ll talk to you soon.” Gemma hung up and leaned against the bookshelf that held her phone. What in the world could be so important about a baby to make a demon want to hunt it down? Gemma might not know the specific why but she knew it couldn’t be good, not for the baby and probably not for anyone else either. Moving away from the phone and down the hallway to her bedroom, Gemma made a quick list of what she needed. She was about to go hunting.

Chapter 3 Detroit at night, at least in Weird City, was like a ghost town. When the sun went down, the folks there took refuge indoors to await morning. Nefarious didn’t quite define the bad asses that awoke with the setting sun. Gemma was well liked here, by both the night dwellers and the dayside creatures, still, being out alone after dark was dangerous, even for someone of her power. It wasn’t as if she had much choice in the matter. As soon as she got off the phone with Angela, she’d gotten ready to go looking for the baby or the demon hunting it. She been checking her gun when the phone rang again. The caller hadn’t identified himself. All he’d said was that the baby and her mage guardian were in Weird City and that Gemma had better book it before the two refugees went on to a nicer place. So Gemma had hauled ass to Weird City. There was only one place to go, if you were new to Detroit and not human, where you might be accepted. Gertie Strauss was well known among the non-humans of Weird City and a legend in the rest of the hidden world. Part vampire and part werewolf, the old bat had been dogging the inhabitants of Weird City for more than two hundred years. Gertie acted as an arbitrator at times, a shelter from the cold, a warm shoulder, and a lethal killer when necessary. Though she didn’t run Weird City, she helped keep things in line and protected both newcomers and the rare, unfortunate human who stumbled into this secret part of Detroit. As Gemma approached Gertie’s home, a once beautiful brownstone, she drew her gun and kept herself alert to the sounds and movements around her. The smells of the city at large tickled her nose. Industrial exhaust, human trash, the rot of old age and decay… those smells were a never-ending stream of background music in any old city.

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Detroit and Weird City were no exception. At times, the smell of lost dreams and relentless depression were so thick here Gemma thought she’d choke to death on all the bleakness. Then the sun would rise, and humans and non-humans alike would go on with life and the stench of hopelessness would lift. That stench, the heady odor of despair, was thick in the air outside of Gertie’s home. Gemma could almost see the haze of it hanging, clinging, to the night. Whoever was inside with Gertie didn’t have much hope. Gemma gave one last look around before holstering her gun. The despair had to go. Rule number one in saving foundlings, you can’t ever give into thoughts of failure. With three short, hard raps to the front door of the building, Gemma asked for entrance. “Who’s there?” The gruff, no-nonsense question brought a smile to Gemma’s mouth. Same old Gertie. “Gertie, you old bat, it’s Gemma. Let me in.” A harsh cackle filtered through the closed door. A click, thunk, and squeak later, the door opened to offer admittance. Gemma pushed through the open door, quickly shutting and locking it behind her. “Gemma Joyce! It’s been awhile, m’dear. I hear you’ve been busy this last month.” Gemma smiled at the small, gray haired, battle-ax before her. Though she was part vampire, the details of which Gemma didn’t quite understand, Gertie aged like a shifter. She was nearly five hundred years old, but to human eyes, she seemed in her eighties. Gemma knew Gertie wouldn’t live out another two hundred years, and she mourned the time when her friend would no longer be on Earth. Shoving melancholy thoughts aside, Gemma gave Gertie a bright smile. The old woman reciprocated and stepped close, pulling Gemma into a strong embrace. “It’s good to see you too, Gertie. And yeah, I’ve been busy.” Soft laughter flowed from Gemma, and some of her tension dissipated. With another tight squeeze, she released the smaller woman and stepped back. “Ha! From what I heard, you been busy in more ways than one.” The naughty

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glint in Gertie’s penetrating silver gaze almost made Gemma blush. “You been listenin’ to too many rumors, Gert. Maybe I have too. I hear you have visitors.” The squall of a baby rang from the room behind Gertie. “I guess those rumors were true.” Gemma arched a brow at Gertie, but the other woman just set her hands on her ample hips and harrumphed. “You know I’d have called you, Gemma. They only just arrived.” “Well then, may I meet them?” This was Gertie’s house, her home territory. Gemma was sure Gertie would have called her, but she wasn’t stupid. Gertie did what she had to in order to protect Weird City. If a powerful demon was indeed looking for that baby, Gertie might have put the good of her neighbors above the needs of the child and her protector. “Sure. But, Gemma, you gotta get them outta here and fast. You understand me?” Gemma nodded. The danger to the child was close, very close, and Gertie could only help for so long. After that, she’d throw all of them to the wolves, as it were, if she had to, to keep Weird City safe. “Let me introduce myself, at least. Then I’ll take them.” Gertie reached a hand out and gently squeezed Gemma’s forearm. “All right.” Gertie led Gemma through the small foyer and into a large living room. On one of her sofas sat a rail thin woman who was clutching a bundle to her chest. The sounds of suckling echoed loudly in the room. Gemma’s eyes widened. “You’re her mother?” She couldn’t stop the question. The woman was a haunting beauty, her extreme thinness only emphasizing her features. Long, straight, dark silver hair fell over her face and arms. Two jet-black streaks of hair fell on either side of her head. Gemma looked at Gertie, honing in on the similar patches in the other woman’s short platinum hair. “You can’t be her mother. You’re a werewolf.” Gemma’s sapphire gaze clashed with the most brilliant violet ones she’d ever seen. A strong patrician nose and square

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jaw, full lips and stark cheekbones finished off the woman’s oval face. She was beyond beautiful, but in a fey-like way. Her eyes, though, her eyes told Gemma all she needed to know. “I knew you were a mage, but you’re more than that. You’re a Paramount, and a werewolf to boot.” The woman visibly flinched at Gemma’s words. A fucking Paramount protecting a foundling. Now Gemma knew she’d seen it all. Paramounts were the top of the top of mage society. In all honesty, there really wasn’t any human equivalent to adequately explain the amount of magic this delicate looking woman wielded. Her dark amethyst eyes gave her away. The deeper the lilac color, the stronger the Paramount. Gemma had personally seen three sets of darker eyes, but not in the last millennia. The real kicker was that mages and shape shifters did not interbreed. It was forbidden among their peoples. With so few true mages and shape shifters left, the elders of those communities refused to let the bloodlines thin any more than necessary. And mixing a mage with a shifter was a risky thing to do in the first place. Shape shifters had their own magic, usually Earth based, though a few did have water, air, or fire talents. Mages followed a similar rule, each mage having strength in a certain element. Paramounts, however, ruled two or more natural gifts. Sometimes opposites, like fire and water, sometimes congruous, like air and fire. If, as Gemma suspected, this woman could use at least three elements, she’d be an extremely powerful shifter. If she were also non-Alpha, she’d be a dangerous element no pack would want near, a potent weapon that could, in theory, be controlled by anyone her superior. A sudden pop startled Gemma from her thoughts. The woman lifted the babe to her shoulder and began burping her. After several solid thumps, the baby gave up a loud, wet, belch. Gemma was torn between laughter and grimacing in distaste. “Yes, Ms. Joyce. I’m a Paramount and I’m a werewolf. And I am Amaliel’s mother, in all the ways that matter.” The woman adjusted her clothing and set the babe to her other breast, which Amaliel happily latched onto. She began to hungrily swallow

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once more. “How are you doing that, if I might ask? Have you lost a child recently?” The woman’s face blanked more, which Gemma hadn’t thought possible. “No, I didn’t.” “So, how did you manage to do that?” Gemma gestured to the nursing child. “With magic and Amaliel’s help. She was but a few hours old when I found her, still wet with blood. I took her to my heart and bound our souls. I made her mine. Afterward, she began to cry and my breasts filled with milk. She made that happen.” “You expect me to believe an hours old child could actively wield that kind of magic?” “I don’t expect you to believe anything. I’m telling you what happened. In the last eight months, a very powerful demon has hunted us relentlessly. He is Samael.” Gemma couldn’t stop the look of shock that crossed her face. “Samael? Who the hell is that kid?” Samael was worse than Baal, the demon she’d taken on last month, by exponential degrees. Gemma felt the hard thud of her heart. They had to get out of there, now. They’d wasted too much time already. “Look, uh…” Gemma realized she didn’t know the woman’s name. “Soluna.” “Soluna. We have to go, now! We’ll get to know each other later. Right now, we have to leave.” Without asking questions, Soluna gathered her things, readjusted her clothing, and then spoke in a low voice to the baby. “We’re ready.” “Gertie, I’ll leave you some protection until you can get someone in here to clean the place of them. Be careful.” Gertie paled, but she squared her shoulders and gave Gemma her best smile. “Don’t you worry about me, little girl. I can take care of myself. You’d best be off though.” They hugged tightly, and when she broke from the embrace, Gemma had her

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gun drawn. In her mind, she envisioned two spheres. One went around Gertie’s house to prevent those looking from seeing the magical residue of the woman and the baby. The second enveloped Soluna, the child, and Gemma. She hoped she wasn’t too late. “Are you ready?” Soluna gave one hard nod. “Then let’s go.”

Chapter 4 The night outside Gertie’s house was still and silent. Not a good sign. Gemma needed to get away from Gertie’s fast, but not fast enough to draw unwanted attention. She ushered them away from the brownstone and out of Weird City at a swift clip. As they neared the edge of Gertie’s domain, the hair on the back of Gemma’s neck stood on end. Someone, or something, watched them. She could feel it. “Where are we going?” The gaunt woman beside her kept pace without difficulty. Gemma felt a punch of admiration. Considering everything Gemma was certain Soluna had suffered throughout her life, the woman didn’t moan or bitch. Thank God. “I need to pick up a few things, then we’ll go to a safe house.” Gemma kept her voice low, carefully watching the shadows. Soluna nodded and clutched Amaliel tighter. The baby hadn’t made a sound during their escape, something else for Gemma to ask the Paramount about later. Suddenly, a sensation like bees humming skittered across Gemma’s skin. “Shit. We got trouble.” With a hand on the other woman’s arm, Gemma brought them to a stop and scanned their surroundings. At first, nothing seemed truly amiss. Gemma thought for a moment it was just nerves and a little adrenaline making her overly vigilant. Then, out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the undulations of the shadows near them. The sleek blackness took on a solidity that had nothing to do with the moon and everything to do with demons. The shadows spread like an inky infection, moving closer and closer to Gemma and her companions, circling them, cutting them off from escape. Gemma had strong magic of her own -- being a three-thousand-year-old vampire had its perks. Regardless, she didn’t think she had much of a shot at getting them out of this predicament without

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some quick thinking. They didn’t have much time, but she had to test her theory about the shadows before she made a plan. Gemma conjured a small-scale shield like the one she’d created to protect the three of them. She sent the orb into the pooling shadows slowly oozing toward them. A snap and sizzle later, her sphere made contact. The power of her magic surprised her and her shield held longer than Gemma thought it would. Her mini shield hovered a scant inch above the possessed darkness. In response, the black mass sprouted small tentacles, each one reaching out to Gemma’s magic. The shadowy fingers touched the orb, and Gemma’s magic flared with brilliant light, killing off the branch that attacked. Getting rid of the initial attacker was good, but it soon became clear that the shield wasn’t unharmed. Every place the inky mass struck left a hole in Gemma’s orb. Once the barrier was penetrated, the thin threads of evil speared through the hole, filling the tiny orb, until Gemma’s test shield nearly disintegrated, all her magic eaten away by the dark power. Whatever animated the shadows would get through Gemma’s protective spell in no time at all. “Ms. Joyce, it’s almost here.” Soluna’s voice was calm, but the urgency behind it was clear. Gemma had to think fast. Her test had taken too long and they were about to be overrun. “Did you see that?” Gemma pointed to a tiny flare, the last of her magic struggling to escape the shadows. “It’s eating my shield like candy. I know this is rude, but if you have a trick up your sleeve, like the ability to fly, I’d suggest you show it. Otherwise, this is all over.” “I understand. I can do better than fly. Hold on.” The woman moved the baby to one arm, and mouthed something low and unintelligible. Gemma watched in awe as Soluna’s eyes lit with power, casting a lilac glow across her features. In the mage’s hand, a ball formed, growing larger and larger until it enveloped them. It emitted a soft blue light which stopped the progressing shadows. An inhuman shriek issued from the pitch-black mass.

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“Tell me where to go.” Soluna’s radiant eyes met hers, and Gemma gave her simple instructions to her home. “Head south, then west toward downtown. I have an obfuscate spell around my home. You should be able to see it.” The ability to ‘see’ magic was a rare one and if the other woman had it, it would only prove Gemma’s hunch about her gifts. The Paramount nodded and the orb lifted off the ground. Gemma pitched a bit, but righted herself. Floating in a bubble isn’t as much fun as I thought it would be. “Can I ask you something?” Gemma holstered her gun and tried to quell her roiling stomach. She focused on Soluna and her charge, forcing the nausea to the edge of her thoughts. “Yes.” There was no reaction on Soluna’s face or in her voice. An empty calm was all Gemma could read from the woman. “If you’re as powerful as I think you are, why were you looking for me?” A flicker of something flashed in Soluna’s eyes, gone so fast Gemma might have imagined it. The slow blink of Soluna’s entrancing eyes was the only tell the woman offered to confirm what Gemma had seen spark in her gaze. Fear. “I am the most powerful mage in a thousand years. Nevertheless, I cannot defeat Samael alone. I need help. I had heard the Archangel Gabriel owed you a debt for saving his mate. I am hoping you will call in that obligation for Amaliel.” Gemma’s face must have contorted into a very comical mask of shock and awe because Soluna’s perfect façade cracked for a moment and she giggled. The change in her demeanor was breathtaking. She transformed from a gaunt faced, ethereal beauty into a stunning goddess. The added twinkle of humor to her eyes and the curl of her lush lips into a soft smile lifted away the despair and fatigue that hung so heavily about her. Gemma couldn’t stop herself from smiling in return. “Sorry, I didn’t expect that answer. It’s true that Gabriel owes me one, so to speak, but what makes you think I’ll call in that chip for the baby?” Gemma tried to keep her voice light. She really didn’t want to see Soluna withdraw again into gloom. Soluna looked at Gemma hard. Gemma felt the urge to squirm, but refused to

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give in to it. After a few moments, the smaller woman arched a brow. “I know you will do what is right, Gemma Joyce, regardless of your feelings for the Protectorate. You’ve made it your life’s work to save those like Amaliel.” Soluna looked down at the baby, leaning close to press a soft kiss to her forehead. “Besides, you have unfinished business to attend to, don’t you?” Gemma crossed her arms over her chest and looked away. Yes, she did have unfinished business, but she was unsettled by the fact that Soluna knew about it. Either the grapevine was working overdrive, or the other woman could read her thoughts without Gemma noticing. Neither was a prospect Gemma enjoyed.

Chapter 5 A few moments later, the spell guarding her home came into view. “There’s my apartment.” Gemma pointed to the golden cloak, shining like a beacon in her magical sight, over the front door. She lived in an old apartment much like Gertie’s brownstone. The apartments were a block building that had once been townhouses. Gemma’s was on the ground floor and included a separate entrance, complete with miniscule porch and a tiny yard. Soluna directed the bubble toward the glow, then lowered the sphere to the ground. A wave of her hand and a few more words, and their transportation disappeared as quickly as it had arrived. “Welcome to my home, Soluna and Amaliel,” Gemma said as she opened the door and ushered them inside. “I have to pick up a few things and make a couple of calls. There’s food in the kitchen, through that doorway there. The bathroom’s the second door on the left, down the hall. You can eat and wash up, then I’d suggest you try to get some rest. I don’t want to be here for more than an hour.” Gemma waited for Soluna to nod, then she headed to her bedroom. Inside the safety of her bedroom, Gemma moved to the small refrigerator tucked next to her bed. She opened the door and took out a blood pouch. Though Gemma preferred her blood body temperature, the opportunity to feed on fresh prey happened rarely. And regardless of fiction, mixing blood with wine didn’t exactly increase its shelf life. In fact, it just made it useless to a vampire. She needed the blood as healthy as it could be and tainting it with alcohol made the blood lose its nutrient value. Digging back inside the fridge, she pulled out a metal straw, specially sharpened to puncture the thick plastic of the bag. As soon as the straw was in, Gemma brought it to her lips and took a long, refreshing drink. She turned toward her bureau and caught

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sight of her reflection in the beveled mirror above it. She couldn’t help but laugh; the morbid picture she made really was quite funny. She looked like a very scary child with a gruesome taste in drink boxes. After she finished off her food and disposed of the trash, Gemma moved aside the panties and socks in the drawer to reveal a small wooden box. She couldn’t stop thoughts of Pandora from flitting through her mind as she took it from the drawer and placed it on her bed. The case contained a gateway to Heaven or Hell, a portal in other words. Gemma couldn’t physically pass through the tiny doorway, but she could use it like a metaphysical telephone to contact someone in either place. Her mother, Lilith, had given it to her centuries ago. She told Gemma it was easier to get into contact with her this way as opposed to summoning her. Lilith was right. It was easier. The problem was having something like this made Gemma very uneasy. She knew in the right, or wrong, hands the miniature gate could actually admit or release beings. Soluna’s words echoed in her head, but Gemma wasn’t sure if the Paramount was a hundred percent right. Yeah, she had a bad feeling she wouldn’t be able to handle whatever was coming on her own. But asking the Protectorate for help and, maybe worse, having Michael come to her rescue, sat like a lead weight in her gut. “Damn it! I’m not going to be forced into this.” Gemma huffed a hank of hair off her forehead and crossed her arms over her chest. She looked around her bedroom, trying to find a simple solution to her problem and not seeing one. Well, even if I do contact them, what’s to say anyone will answer? The hard truth was that there was no guarantee. Gemma needed to call Angela. She left her bedroom and headed back out to the living room. Soluna was rocking a sleeping Amaliel, cooing a soft lullaby. “Did you contact them?” The Paramount’s voice was hushed. “Not yet. I need to call my friend first.” Gemma ignored the displeasure that flashed over Soluna’s face. She picked up the phone and dialed the number to Haven. “Lacey said you’d call.” Angela’s warm voice sounded worried.

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Gemma laughed softly. “That girl’s a bright one. I need some advice, Ange.” “Okay. What is it?” “It is Samael. He’s the one after the foundling.” “Shit! Your mom’s ex? Oh, fuck, Gemma. You need help. There’s no way you can take him alone.” “The foundling’s guardian is a Paramount.” “If she could’ve taken him, she wouldn’t have been looking for you. Gemma, call them.” Gemma sighed. “Yeah, I know. Hey, just in case, you know what to do?” “Don’t you ‘just in case’ me, Gemma Joyce! You better come back here in one piece. I love you, hon.” “I know. I love you, too.” Gemma hung up and turned to look at Soluna. “You need to hurry, Ms. Joyce. He’s almost here.” Gemma closed her eyes and opened her mind. Through the walls of her apartment, past the block she lived on, and out into the night, she searched for the hunters. It didn’t take long for her to feel them, their black power rolling in front of them like some evil enchanted carpet. Gemma opened her eyes and raced to the bedroom. The box sat where she’d left it. Ignoring the quivers in her belly, Gemma centered herself, blanking her mind to all but her task, before opening the box. Her hand shook a bit as she lifted the lid, flooding her room with white light and the soft sound of wind. “Gabriel, Archangel of God and Leader of the Protectorate, I call to thee.” Her voice echoed. A flare of color, something Gemma saw when she contacted her mother, told her the ‘call’ had gone through. “Gemma Joyce. I owe you my life. How may I serve you?” Suddenly, the face of God’s General looked up at Gemma from the gateway. His face was softened by the ‘fog’ of the gate, but it was live and in person. She squeaked in surprise. “Shit! Hey, man, don’t do that!” His beautiful face crinkled with laugh lines.

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Something seemed different about him, but Gemma couldn’t put her finger on it. His laugh was low and happy, and maybe that was it. It made her smile, his good humor. It was much better than the bereft and serious Archangel she’d met two fortnights ago. A part of Gemma couldn’t help but appreciate his masculine allure, but no matter how pretty he was, her body didn’t even stir. With a sigh, Gemma squared her shoulders and pushed forward, before the asking became too difficult. “I need your help. Or rather, I have a Paramount and a foundling baby who need your help.” “A Paramount? With a foundling? Well, that’s unusual. How can I help?” “The foundling’s father is Raphael. It seems that Samael has been chasing them for some time. They need a refuge, but more than that, someone needs to stop Samael.” “Raphael has a child?” Gabriel’s frown clearly told Gemma a certain Archangel was going to get a talking to. “Yep. Oh, and the Paramount… she’s a werewolf.” Gemma smothered a laugh when Gabriel’s platinum brows shot up so fast they disappeared into the curly locks dusting his forehead. “I hate to drop this on you, but we came up against a taste of Samael’s power tonight, and I don’t think even with the Paramount’s help I can take him on. I just don’t have the right tools here in Detroit.” “I understand. But, Gemma, if I may call you that?” She nodded and gave him a small smile. “Why are you calling in my debt? This sounds like something in the realm of what the Protectorate should be helping with. I won’t allow you to absolve my obligation with this.” Gemma’s smile faded in the blink of an eye. “Look, Gabe, you and your Protectorate haven’t ever come to my aid before. Why the Hell should I think it’s any different now?” “I apologize, Gemma. Michael, uh, informed me of the Protectorate’s previous lack of interest, so to speak. I give you my word this is no longer the case. I can’t explain more now, but rest assured it was never you that was being ignored.”

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“Whatever, Gabe. Look, are you gonna help me or not? I can’t wait around here all day. Samael is already on his way here, and I don’t think my obfuscate spell will deter him for long, if at all. I have to move them and fast.” “Tell me what you want me to do.” “I’d like for some of your agents or soldiers or whatever to get their asses down here and get this woman and child out of harm’s way. Think you can handle that, Gabe?” “Michael wasn’t kidding about your mouth. All right, Gemma. I’ll send someone. They will be there momentarily.” Gemma was about to give him a sarcastic thanks when the very foundation of her apartment rocked. “Holy shit! You better make that double time, Gabe. Samael’s here!” She closed the box lid on whatever the Archangel had been about to say, tossing it into the dresser and slamming the drawer shut. She rushed to her bedside table, shoving it out of the way, and pulled out the heavy silver cross she kept hidden behind it. She hefted it and tossed it from hand to hand for a moment, getting reacquainted with its balance and weight. “You may not be any good against a vampire, but you sure do help with demons.” Gemma tucked the cross into the waistband of her pants, its apex hitting her between the shoulder blades, and threw the bedroom door open. In four strides, she was in the living room with Soluna and Amaliel. “Don’t worry, help is on the way.” She gave Soluna’s arm a reassuring squeeze, and then she shoved the woman and her precious bundle behind her, toward the kitchen. “Ms. Joyce, you can’t take him on alone.” Soluna’s voice was calm and soothing, but her comment grated on Gemma’s nerves. “Don’t you think I know that? You got anything you can give me to help, then do it. Otherwise, get the fuck out of my way and pray to God that our help gets here before Samael breaks in and kills us!”

Chapter 6 “Well, brother, I guess you’re gonna get that time off a little sooner than you expected.” Michael looked up from his desk to see Gabriel standing in the classroom doorway. “Why? What’s going on?” He could see the worry on Gabriel’s face. Ice filled his veins. He knew he wasn’t going to like the answer he got. “Gemma’s about to get some unsavory company, in the form of Samael. She needs us to retrieve Raphael’s child and the baby’s protector, a Paramount werewolf.” “What?” “I’m sure she’ll be able to tell you the whole story later. You have to go, now, Michael. She won’t last long against Sam, you know that.” “God, give me speed.” Michael made the sign of the cross as he gathered his weapons belt and an assortment of artillery from his desk. “Who’s going with me?” “Raph and the others are already waiting.” Gabriel clasped his arm to Michael’s, then watched him leave with knowing eyes. God sure did know how to let a man suffer.

*** Gabriel made his way from Michael’s room to his own. Inside, he found Malina talking with her father through the portal they’d constructed there. The doorway stood where Gabriel’s rack of torture instruments once sat. They still had all those wonderful toys, but Malina thought it better if they were put away so as not to cause her father, or brother, undue stress when they visited. “Daddy, I’m serious. Gemma’s in big trouble and so are you. Your princes are out of control!” “I know, Malina. I can only do so much. However, this bit about my demons

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running amok on Earth has to stop. I’m on my way now.” “I understand. I love you, Daddy.” “I love you too, baby.” The portal went blank as Gabriel moved behind his love. Malina turned in his arms and laid her head against his chest. “I wish I could do more to help. I’m so worried about him, but he refuses to let me do anything.” “I know, my love. But, we have to trust that God and your father know what they’re doing. After all, they’ve been doing it for an eternity.” He ran his palm down her back and over the firm swell of her ass. Her frustrated sigh turned to a purr of pleasure. “I don’t want to think about all this mess. What do you say we go take my mind off of it for awhile?” Malina stroked a finger down the mid-line of his body, stopping just short of his jutting cock. Gabriel growled and his cock jerked, fighting against his robes for freedom. “Lead on, Mistress.” Their laughter filled the room as they made their way to the bed. Malina had no delusions about who was Master here, but sometimes she did enjoy turning the tables.

Chapter 7 Soluna took Amaliel into the kitchen, sheltering the child from the demonic goons bent on stealing her. “Don’t worry, Amy. I’m sure Ms. Joyce knows what she’s doing.” Amaliel’s bright green eyes sparkled and she cooed in reply. In the midst of all the fear and running, Soluna couldn’t help but smile at her child. The sound of cursing and a flare of magic from the other room preceded the sound of a wall being blown apart. The horrendous noise and the shockwave of the explosion sent Soluna to her knees. Dear God, please hurry! Don’t worry, Mommy. Gemma will be okay, you’ll see. Daddy’s coming. Soluna’s violet eyes met Amaliel’s emerald ones. A few months ago, the child had begun speaking mind to mind with her. At first, it had terrified Soluna how easily the child could gain entry into her thoughts. But now, it was almost second nature. She made sure she spoke to Amaliel with her voice often, so the baby would learn to speak properly. Soluna clutched the child to her chest as demonic cries tore through the apartment. Ms. Joyce was definitely good at fighting, but Soluna knew once Samael came on the scene, the vampire had little chance of fending him off. “I have to do something, Amaliel.” Fire. Gemma has fire. “Yes, she does, sweetling. Fire it is.” Soluna laid Amy on the floor and brought her hands together in front of herself, as though she were praying. I call to fire, flame, and flare To bring to her the power we share. From me to she, one power, one goal, Gift her with the Phoenix’s soul. Magic burst from Soluna, a ball of fire exploding from between her hands. She

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collapsed to the floor, shaken by the amount of power the spell had taken from her. Ms. Joyce definitely called to fire. Soluna could feel the pulse of energy pound from her and out into Gemma.

“Holy shit!” The blast of intense heat that struck Gemma sent her to the floor. “What the Hell is going on now?” She yelled the words to no one in particular, trying to clear the dancing stars in front of her eyes. Her body suddenly felt full to overflowing with power. Once the initial onslaught faded, Gemma knew it was magic, and friendly at that, which coursed through her body. This is the best help I can give you, Gemma. Gemma didn’t bother being surprised at the soft voice in her head. With another wave of demons about to burst through the hole where her front door had been, she couldn’t waste time on curiosity. Thanks, Soluna. Gemma pulled herself into a squat, bracing her hands on her knees. She took a deep breath and felt the inferno rage through her blood. With a thought, she threw a barrier shield over the opening in her home, needing to hold off the onslaught so she could focus on her next step. The metaphysical wall slammed into place, radiating orange with its power. Well, that’s new, Gemma thought. And just in time, a new wave of demons crashed into her shield. She watched with perverse fascination as the demons struck her spell and burst into flames. Their screams would make human ears bleed, the sickening sound of rage and fear and evil merged into a disharmonic cacophony. Thankfully, none but the most sensitive of humans would sense what was going on in Gemma’s home. It was a rule of Heaven and Hell: Do not allow humanity to discover angels, demons, or anything else fighting. Gemma knew part of the dark wave of power she’d felt earlier had included a spell to put any humans in Detroit, and the outlying area, to sleep. Forgetting about her human neighbors, Gemma pulled her attention from the burning bodies piling up on her doorstep. Reaching an arm around her body and into

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her jeans, Gemma grabbed the cross. She knelt, and with all the strength in her body, rammed the cross into the floor in front of her. Wood splintered as the heavy object penetrated the floor. Closing her eyes, she placed her hands on the arms of the cross, funneling as much of her power into the object as she could. Then she used the only spell she knew to set her defense. As above and so below, God is Love and Her love does grow. Her symbol, in my hands, does live and reign. No entrance here may those of Hell gain. My devotion is given. My God, protect me. As I will, so mote it be. The explosion of magic was beyond Gemma’s experience. It knocked the breath from her body and sent her to her knees again. Her hands glued to the cross, a steady pulse of power pounded from Gemma’s soul and into the artifact. The transfer continued until the cross was glowing with the holiest light, a pure white brightness that would burn mortal eyes from their sockets. Gemma kept her face turned away as the spell finally released her and she slid to the floor. The demons outside screamed in agony and frustration, unable to challenge the power of God’s protection. Gemma was glad the spell had worked. It had taken everything she had to give, and if it had failed, they’d have been a sitting duck. Mustering what remained of her physical strength, Gemma made her way to the kitchen on hands and knees. Exhaustion overwhelmed her and the room spun as she collapsed next to Soluna. “That’s quite impressive, Ms. Joyce. I thought for sure you had lost your faith in God.” Soluna passed her hands over Gemma, soothing her brow and giving her energy through their link to fire. “What are you doing? I feel power pricking my skin.” Gemma voice came out a rough croak, barely above a whisper. “I’m sharing energy with you.” No more than four seconds passed, but when Soluna removed her hands from the vampire’s face, Gemma opened her eyes and grinned. Soluna smiled back and made

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room for Gemma to sit up next to her. The vampire sat up slowly, but at least she wasn’t on the verge of passing out anymore. “That’s a handy little trick. Can you teach it to me?” “Maybe someday, if you have the talent. Your spell will hold off the minions, but Samael has almost as deep a love for God as he does for Lucifer. He was once of Heaven, you know.” “Uh. Well, I guess I’d better get back out there then.” Soluna tried to stop Gemma, but the hard look the vampire gave her made her pull back. “Look, someone from the Protectorate should be here any moment.” Gemma conjured a shield around the mage and baby. “You do whatever you have to do to keep yourself and the foundling safe. Don’t worry about me.” “Thank you, Gemma.” Soluna felt a hard pressure in her chest. She didn’t know this woman from Eve, and yet Gemma Joyce was about to knowingly sacrifice her life for them. The other woman’s selflessness made Soluna wish they had time to become friends. “Don’t think about it. This is what I do.” Gemma gave Soluna’s hand a brief squeeze before regaining her feet. “Hello? Anyone home?” The sinister voice echoed through the house. Samael had come.

Chapter 8 Gemma moved from the kitchen and back into the living room. The cross still shone with its bright, clean radiance. Samael protected his eyes from the power of the cross, but otherwise he appeared unaffected. Gemma looked over his enormous size, and for a moment she could see why her mother had found him so appealing. Muscles grew from muscles, his deep crimson flesh a decadent backdrop for all of his masculine beauty. His long legs were as thick as tree trunks, his massive chest was as broad as her doorway and tapered into a bold six-pack of abdominal muscles. Samael knew his allure, and he often went unclothed. Obviously, he’d decided he didn’t need any covering for today’s adventure. The enormity of his cock was enough to bring Gemma to her senses. The rock hard flesh jutted out from his body way too far for Gemma to even feel a tickle of interest. Fucking him would be a deadly game. “Hey, Sammie. Long time, no see.” “Well, you little shit. You survived, I see. I should have known your bitch of a mother would have at least made sure of that.” Her once step-father, if you could call the demon who regularly fucked your mother a father at all, grinned at Gemma with evil intent. “Yeah, well, Lilith didn’t exactly help me stay alive. So, how’s Hell?” “Actually, Hell is getting a little too cozy for my taste. And not just mine.” Gemma snorted. “Yeah, I sort of got that.” “Well, good. You won’t mind if I take the woman and the whelp then. You understand things need to change.” “I understand you and your cronies think things need to change. I don’t necessarily agree. So, no, you can’t have the Paramount or the foundling.”

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“I can take them.” “Fuck you, Sammie. What’s so important about that kid anyway?” “You don’t know what she can do, do you, Gemma? Why, she’s a bona fide Resurrector, that girl is.” “She can’t have control of her Singularity yet, Sammie. She’s not even a year old!” “Oh, no, Gemma. I’ve seen it. I killed that Paramount. She was dead. Then that foundling touched her, and she was not only alive but fully restored.” Well, shit. Just when I think I’ve seen and heard it all. Gemma shook her head. “You still can’t have them.” “For old time’s sake, don’t make me kill you, Gemma.” Gemma laughed. “You can try.” Samael took a deep breath and lowered his head. “I’d have much rather fucked you. You grew up real nice.” He stroked his cock slowly, bringing a bead of moisture to its massive head. Gemma shivered with disgust. She made a sound of revulsion and his head snapped up. When his empty eyes met hers, she knew exactly what he was going to do. A split second later, a sphere of Hellfire shot out from his hands. Gemma whipped around, dodging the first missile Samael sent in her direction. The bookcase along the back wall of the living room exploded into pieces. Burning bits of paper and leather swirled about the room from his fireball. Gemma rolled to her feet behind the lone chair in the room. She pulled up the floorboard to her right, revealing the grip of an ancient broadsword. She tore the sword from the floor, ripping up chunks of wood in her haste. Throwing a small safeguard of power in front of her, to protect her from his onslaught, she let loose a battle cry that would make any Valkyrie proud, and rushed Samael. “Get the fuck out of my house!” She screamed the words at the top of her lungs, charging in and cutting the heavy sword across Samael’s stomach. She’d been aiming at the log between his legs, but he’d moved at the last

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moment. Howling in wrath and pain, he swung his fist toward her face, but she ducked and cut his right arm deep, his black blood flowing freely. “You’re going to pay for that, brat. I can’t wait to tear your body apart with my cock.” “Don’t make me laugh, Sammie. We both know you can’t last long enough to tear me apart. One look at pussy and you go off like a rocket!” “Worthless little bitch! I’ll drag your death out until you beg me to end it!” The fireball bounced off her shield, but the flash of deadly talons caught Gemma off guard. “Ah!” He’d cut her deep. The lack of pain told her all she needed to know. She looked down and saw the gleam of white bone along her side. Goddamn. Ignoring her injury, and the copious amounts of blood flowing down her body, Gemma raised the sword with one hand and slashed it down toward Samael’s leg. He roared and fell to the ground. She’d slashed his Achilles tendon, making the limb useless. She staggered to the side, thrusting the sword into the floor and using it as a rest. She needed blood, badly. The bag she’d had in her bedroom was the only reason she was still breathing. She was so weak. She didn’t hear Samael pulling himself across the floor. It was too late when she saw his clawed hand raised toward her. She felt the power coalescing before Samael uttered the two words guaranteed to ruin any vampire’s day. “Libre animus.” Gemma felt her body lurch before she crumpled to the floor. With something like awe, she watched transfixed as Samael tore her soul from her body. She held onto it as long as she could. She had one last thought before the world went black. Michael, where are you?

Chapter 9 The stench of burnt flesh and the unholy howling told Michael he was too late. He looked at Raphael and Uriel, both his Archangel brothers’ faces showing their worry. To his left, Raziel and Malachi, two upper level demons who were a part of the Protectorate, looked at each other, then at him. Their expressions didn’t make him feel any better. “Well, looks like she put up a shield of some kind.” Uriel motioned to the carcasses in front of Gemma’s apartment. The orange flare of a protective barrier covered the gaping hole where a door should be. A bellow of rage came from inside the house and Michael catapulted to the ruined door. His eyes widened in disbelief as he watched Gemma collapse. “Gemma!” He charged inside, the shield offering him no resistance. In three steps he towered over Samael, the bastard’s laughter releasing a rage through Michael unlike anything he’d known before. “Ha ha ha, Archangel. You’re too late. The vampire bitch is as good as dead.” In one fist, the demon held a soul. Samael opened his mouth and Michael lashed out, kicking the demon square in the face. The satisfying sound of broken bones and destroyed flesh filled Michael with intense pleasure. Samael’s laughter stopped, replaced by a low moan and then nothing. His hand relaxed and Michael reached out to capture the soul. He could feel Gemma, knew whose essence he cradled. Michael looked at the unconscious demon, wanting to continue his assault. He didn’t want to stop until Samael was a thoroughly broken husk, until the demon’s blood covered Michael from head to foot. “Careful, now, Michael.” The slick voice behind him startled Michael from his

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dangerous thoughts. “Lucifer. What are you doing here?” Michael moved away from Samael, carefully lowering himself down beside Gemma’s still form. “Well, it seems I’m having some problems with one of my employees. So I’m here to take him off your hands.” The Prince of Lies motioned to Samael. “We have some things to discuss. You understand.” Michael nodded at Lucifer, knowing Samael would be tortured and probably destroyed at the end of his ‘conversation’ with his Master. At this point, Michael couldn’t think of anything better. “Take the bodies outside with you too. We don’t want to draw unwanted attention to what happened here once the humans wake up.” Michael forgot Lucifer, directing all his attention at the sickeningly pale face of Gemma Joyce. “Gemma, damn you.” Her eyes were slightly open and glazed. He saw no spark of life in those beautiful eyes. Archangel though he was, Michael couldn’t put a soul back. All he had to do was open his hand and she’d be free. But he couldn’t do it. As he looked at the opalescent sphere in his cupped palm, his frustration rose. Michael had no doubt Gemma knew who was after the foundling long before she’d called Gabriel. Why hadn’t she called them sooner? Her stubbornness had cost her dearly, and he wanted to shake her. Her passion, both for her cause and for life, had ignited something inside Michael. Her quick tongue and quicker temper had kept him on his toes and pushed his patience to the edge. She’d challenged him at almost every turn, questioned things he’d never thought to question, made him feel things other than obligation or boredom. He’d known when he’d left that she was the woman for him. He also knew Gemma had things she needed to resolve before she’d accept him as anything other than a temporary diversion. Looking down at her still form, Michael felt rage, disappointment, exasperation and inhuman grief boil up inside of him. He ran his hand through Gemma’s short hair, wishing he could choke her and wanting to kiss her even more.

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“Archangel.” Soluna drew back from the ferocity on his face, clutching the baby close to her chest. His perfect face had contorted into a mask of fury and agony. The emotions pouring out of him nearly overwhelmed Soluna. She wanted to run away, but Amaliel’s voice gave her strength to proceed. I can help her, Mommy. Tell him. Soluna took a deep breath and plunged ahead. “I can help her, if you let me.” She watched the Archangel’s eyes flash with hope, before he looked away. “No one, besides God Herself, can bring back the dead. It’s too late, Paramount.” His voice held sadness and irritation. Straightening her shoulders, Soluna approached him. “She can.” Soluna looked down into Amaliel’s face. “Please, let her try before it truly is too late.” The Archangel’s reaction was wary, but he nodded. Soluna unwrapped Amaliel and sat the girl on the floor, close to Gemma’s head. The child crawled forward a few paces, then placed both of her tiny hands on the vampire’s face. Amy looked back at Soluna, giving her a precious baby smile, before leaning in and pressing a sloppy kiss to Gemma’s cold lips. Michael watched in confusion and guardedness as the tiny tot kissed Gemma. The baby looked up at him, stars dancing in her eyes and gave him a bright smile. I can heal her, Michael. But I need you to do something. You must feed her. The shock of the sweet voice in his mind was nothing compared to the surprise at its request. But Michael didn’t waste time being wishy-washy. Anything to bring Gemma back, anything at all he would do. So he nodded at the babe. Good. I’ll restore her soul to her body. She’ll sleep for a while, but then she’ll need to feed. Later you might wonder why I’ve asked this of you, but remember that God works in mysterious ways. With that last cryptic reply, Michael felt the voice retreat from his mind. The little girl smiled at him again, and then crawled back to her mother. A golden glow brought Michael’s attention back to Gemma. Magic danced and

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sparked all over her. Strands of yellow gold reached up from Gemma’s body and wrapped themselves around her spirit. He watched as they drew her soul down into her body. Within moments, her wounds closed, the skin repairing itself to flawless perfection once more. When Gemma’s eyelids fluttered and her first gasped breath bowed her spine, Michael could only look at the child in awe. Relief, and gratitude, flooded him. “Can we come in now?” Raziel’s voice floated into the quiet of Gemma’s thrashed home. Michael looked up and out, into the demon’s bright red eyes. He started to shrug, unsure exactly how to undo Gemma’s shield, when the ginger blanket of magic dissipated. Raziel, Malachi, and Uriel came inside. “Let me take her to her bed, and I’ll be right back.” The other Protectorates nodded to Michael. He carefully lifted the unconscious Gemma in his arms and took her to her room.

Chapter 10 “So you’re the Paramount who’s a werewolf to boot?” Malachi’s green eyes flashed as he looked over the skinny woman with a toddler in her lap. “Yes, I am. Where’s Raphael? His daughter wants to see him.” Malachi and Raziel looked at Uriel. Uriel shrugged and tried to hide his embarrassment. “He’s outside. I don’t know if he really wants to come in.” The baby looked at Uriel and cooed, and Uriel laughed softly. She was certainly cute as a button, no doubt about that. He was just as curious about Raphael’s reticence to see his offspring as Raziel and Malachi were. Demons or no, those two would never abandon their children. “I’ll go get him.” Raziel turned to go back outside, but the slip of a woman stopped him. “No, I’ll get him.” He spun back around just in time to see the flash of anger in her violet eyes before she closed them. The hum of magic swirled all around them before shooting out the door. A few moments later, Raphael staggered into the house, obviously fighting against whatever spell the woman had cast but not beating it. “Hello, Raphael.” The Paramount stood with the child in her arms. “I’m Soluna, daughter of Roman, Alpha of the Pack Caprica, daughter of Sarah, Paramount of the House of Alea.” She paused to crook a finger in Raphael’s direction, pulling him closer to her and the child. “This is Amaliel, daughter of Archangel Raphael, God’s Great Healer, daughter of Soluna.” Raphael tried not to grit his teeth as he replied. “Her mother is Obozikan, daughter of Abaddon.” “Yes, Archangel, you are partly right. Obozikan carried Amaliel within her

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womb, but she abandoned your child within moments of her birth. Obozikan knew how much danger the child was in, and she selflessly sacrificed her own life in order to give her child a chance at survival. I found Amaliel still wet with blood and bound her to me. She is my child.” “You bound her? How could you do that?” If Raphael had had the ability, he might have struck the frail woman before him. But her spell was powerful, and he had nothing to combat it with. “It was what she wanted. She gave me life in my body, filled my breasts with milk. But you don’t have to believe me, let her tell you.” Raphael’s eyes widened as he felt the touch of another mind in his own. He looked into the solemn eyes of the child, felt himself falling into their mysterious depths. Hello, Daddy. Mommy’s telling the truth. I bound her to me as surely as she bound me to her. I know this isn’t what you had in mind when Obozikan told you she was breeding, but things change. I think it’s time you took us home, don’t you? Though Raphael knew he was being coerced, he couldn’t argue. With a nod, he placed his hand on Amaliel’s head and in a flash of light the three of them disappeared. “Well, that was some weird shit, Raz.” Malachi laughed and slapped his friend on the back. “Those Archangels sure know how to pick ’em.” Raziel chortled with Malachi until Uriel loudly cleared his throat. “I, for one, have no desire to have offspring.” Raziel’s chortle became a guffaw. “Hear that, Mal? Shit, Uriel, you’re laced so tight I wonder if you’ve even been in a woman’s bed!” As he and Malachi composed themselves, they shot glances at the aloof Archangel. Uriel shifted from foot to foot and looked uncomfortable, but he made no reply. Both demons shook their heads at the weirdness of Angels. Malachi motioned in the direction Michael had taken when he’d left the room. “You want all of us to wait for him to come out? Or can you handle it?” “No, you two can go back. I’ll wait here.”

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Malachi and Raziel clasped arms with Uriel, then took their leave. Uriel looked about the destruction of the tiny apartment and decided to get to work. There was no sense leaving it a mess.

Chapter 11 Michael laid Gemma on her bed and removed her clothes, cleansing all traces of blood from her body. Though he’d been tempted to run his hands all over her and verify she had no more injuries, he tucked her beneath the blankets. He took his time covering her up, burning the image of her supple body, lying nude and alive, so deep into his mind’s eye he’d never forget it. Leaning against her dresser, arms folded over his chest, he reassured himself of her continued breathing. He’d been willing to have hope in an unlikely resurrection for his Gemma, but the truth before his eyes was amazing. He was filled with joy beyond measure, but he was also angry with her. Regardless of his ire, he planned to make the most of his second chance. He owed the foundling more than he could repay, and his mind swirled with questions he wanted answered. He’d give the child his thanks just as soon as he had Gemma where he wanted her, by his side for eternity. A soft rap at the door broke into his thoughts. The bedroom door swung open without a squeak and Uriel poked his head in. “I’ve repaired the house and reinforced her obfuscation spell. You two should be safe for now. Are you going to stay?” “Yeah. Hey, have you talked to the Paramount yet?” Michael spoke in a whisper as he moved to Uriel. The other man stepped back from the threshold and allowed Michael out into the hallway. Michael pulled the door closed behind him with a soft snick. “I didn’t have time. She asked where Raph was, and Mal, Raz, and I didn’t know how to say he wasn’t interested in his kid. She must have figured it out, though, ’cause she summoned him to her. Man, he was not happy, but she definitely packs a wallop

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because he couldn’t throw her spell off.” Uriel stopped and crossed his arms over his chest. “She’s a pretty unique mage. It doesn’t surprise me that she’s very powerful.” Michael wished he’d been able to talk to her before she’d left. He wanted some answers about the foundling she protected. Uriel inclined his head in agreement. “Next thing we know, she rattles off her heritage, introduces Raph to his daughter, and something happened there but I couldn’t tell you what. He looked at the baby for a few minutes, nodded his head, and they orbed out.” Michael nodded as he and Uriel made their way toward the living room. “Well, at least I don’t have to worry about a retaliatory strike against Gemma. Lucifer himself came and took Samael away.” Uriel cocked an eyebrow in shock, but made no comment. “And it looks like your lady’s off the hook as far as the foundling goes. For now, at least.” Uriel left Michael at the doorway to the kitchen and made his way to the magically replaced front door. “So what are you gonna do now, brother?” “I want to find out about her. She has a whole set up called Haven, somewhere here in the States, for her foundlings. I think it’s past time she added her influence and knowledge to the Protectorate. I intend to see that come to pass.” Uriel smiled faintly and opened the door. “Good luck with that, Michael. I knew her mother once. If she’s anything like Lilith, you’ll have your work cut out for you.” Michael smiled back at Uriel. He knew the other Archangel was right. Gemma wouldn’t join the Protectorate until she could forgive them for not hearing her pleas. Moreover, she wouldn’t join until she could forgive him for taking so long to fulfill his promise.

*** Hunger unlike anything Gemma had felt since coming into her vampiric needs rushed through her body. Her limbs contorted with the agony of her need, her logical mind all but obliterated by the cry for sustenance ringing in her head. Her only lucid

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thought was that if she didn’t feed on fresh blood soon, the world would not survive a three-thousand-year-old revenant. “Gemma, you’re awake.” She recognized the masculine voice. It both soothed and agitated her. “Food.” The single word was a growl of need and aggression. Michael knew what he’d promised. But seeing Gemma’s face contort and twist, losing all humanity, gave him pause. Her demonic heritage had transformed her smooth features into a sinister mask of intent. Her bright white fangs flashed between dark red lips and her nails lengthened into lethal claws which tore into the mattress beneath her, shredding it like paper. He stood next to the bed and looked down at her. The animalistic sounds she made thoroughly brought home the fact that this woman was a deadly creature. Michael held himself still, not wanting to provoke an attack. “Yes. You need to eat.” An idea struck him. One that would allow him to keep his word and bring Gemma back to herself before he exposed his throat to her. “Where do you keep your blood?” Her reply was incoherent. Looking around the room, Michael noticed a small refrigerator near the bed. He knelt down to open the appliance. “No, fresh food.” The throaty response was the only forewarning he got. Strong hands curled around his shoulders, pulling him upright. One arm pulled his head to the side, while the other wrapped around his chest. Both of Gemma’s legs coiled around his, locking him in place. Michael reacted, trying to pry her limbs from his. Her breath hissed across the bared flesh of his neck just before she struck. Blood, so good. Hot, thick, powerful blood. Fill me up, so hungry! The broken thoughts whirled in Gemma’s mind as she drank her fill. The warm skin against her tongue tasted delicious. She almost stopped drinking so she could lick the masculine flesh. The body she held in her embrace was large and heavy, the body of a strong man. The ghostly brush of feathers against her skin tickled her memory. The feathers weren’t real but the recollection trying to surface was. She sensed it.

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Michael’s struggles slowed with each draw of her mouth on his skin. Pain flashed through his body, but it was a pain that bordered on pleasure. Each stroke of her tongue on his neck made desire pulse in his cock. Her gluttonous appetite, the gulping sounds of her feeding, only made him more aroused. He hoped she’d stop before she drained him dry, but the bliss throbbing in his balls kept him from worrying. He felt every suctioning sip from his toes to the ends of his hair, and though he couldn’t get an erection, he was ready to explode. “Ah!” Gemma tore her mouth from her meal, white fire and magic blinding her, stealing her senses. “Poison!” She shoved her prey away, as true, living torture contorted her limbs, pulling her muscles taut and hard, ripping the breath from her lungs. Michael sagged next to Gemma on the bed. His head spun and he felt nauseated. She hadn’t taken all his blood, but she’d stuffed herself nonetheless. He tried to focus on the room. She shifted next to him and he heard her gasp for breath, trying to give her agonized screams volume. When her body began to convulse, Michael dredged up the strength to roll to his side and open his eyes. The pink sheen of blood-sweat glistened on her skin. Gemma’s eyes rolled back into her head and her body continued to shake. Dear God, I’ve killed her. What have I done? He pulled her body beneath his, lying his weight atop her, hoping to stop the spasms. Gripping her hands in his, he pressed her to the bed. His powerful thighs spread her legs as he forced her against the bed. The staccato slide of her bare skin against his clothing relieved the spinning in his head and stopped the confusion clouding his thoughts. He had to end her pain, but he didn’t know how. Was his blood poison to her? “Gemma!” Michael lowered his forehead to hers, pushing against it, hoping his voice would reach her through the pain she suffered. Her eyelids fluttered, revealing orbs of ebony instead of a deep blue. Their gazes locked, and her shuddering ceased.

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Michael opened his mouth to ask her what to do, but when their eyes met, an intense desire to feast on her lips overrode his worry, as if someone else had entered his mind and taken control. He had to taste her. He watched Gemma’s eyes flash with power, before her mouth opened to meet his. In that moment of descent, Michael felt the sting of magic. He had no chance to react. His open mouth hovered above her equally parted lips, unknowingly ready to receive the gift she was about to give him. The line of magic burst from her mouth and straight into his. Bright white and cold as ice, it shoved its way down his throat, spreading through his body instantaneously. The chord of power drew his mouth to hers, fusing them together a moment before it severed. He took her lips ferociously, not caring of the earlier damage done to her body or his. His tongue thrust deep into the warm cavern of her mouth, tasting every inch it touched, savoring her flavor. Michael released her hands and Gemma moaned into his mouth, wrapping her arms around his back. Her hands tore the shirt from his body and shredded his pants at the waist, scoring his skin. She was as hungry for this as she had been for his blood. She needed him to fill her with his cock, his tongue, his fingers, all of him. She wanted to open her body and take him inside her, wholly. Must take him inside, the covenant must be completed! Logic had no place in the state Gemma was in. Instinct drove her to finish what had begun between her and the man in her arms. Her body knew him, her soul cried out to him, even if her still-crazed mind did not. Michael pulled his mouth from hers just long enough to remove the ruined remains of his clothing. His hard flesh met her softer curves and he groaned. The real thing was just as potent, just as delectable, as his dreams. His large palm slid up her body and cupped her full breast. His thumb played over the nipple until it peaked into a hard nub. Her restless legs spread wider and wrapped around his waist. Michael thought he’d die with the first press of his aching cock against her slick, fiery pussy. Something fundamental drove him to bypass foreplay. His cock felt as if it would

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explode if he didn’t bury it between Gemma’s legs right now! He threaded his fingers through hers again and took her mouth with his. Lifting his hips from hers, he nudged her entrance gently. Her hips surged against his, and he slid home. Oh, God! She was so wet, so slick, so tight! Michael had never felt a body like hers, as if it were made for him. His first thrust was slow and measured, her pussy stretching around him, rippling to accommodate his width and length. Michael opened his eyes to watch her face as he took her. Gemma’s smooth neck was arched, her head thrown back, her breath caught. One sharp fang pierced her lower lip, the thin trickle of blood calling him. Michael surged fully inside her, then lowered his mouth to the crimson line, swiping it with his tongue. “Sweet Heaven!” Her blood was a powerful aphrodisiac. Need, desire, and the ferocious drive to take rampaged through Michael’s body and mind. Nothing else existed besides the silken feel of her wet cunt undulating around his cock. He wanted Gemma tied to him for eternity, there at his hand whenever he needed her. She was his! “Take me!” Gemma managed to string the two words together, yelling them out to the man above her. She gripped his hands in a white-knuckled grasp, her talons piercing his flesh. She contracted her pussy around his invading prick, the pleasure of his pounding thrusts making her head thrash against the bed. She needed more, something more… You must bite me! Take my flesh between your teeth and draw blood! Michael heard the words in his mind and didn’t question them. The thought of marking her that way drove his hips against her. His plunge was deeper than before, harder, and the slap of his flesh against Gemma’s was nearly as loud as their moans of pleasure. Her pussy wept desire, making each thrust into her body sweeter and more erotic. Sweat dripped from his brow, mingling with the smell of sex and desire permeating the air. Gemma keened. The feel of his entire length plowing in and out of her cunt, hitting her in the spot that made her lose all sense, was overwhelming. But she wanted more, something just beyond her reach shimmered. When he nuzzled her shoulder, she

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knew what that glimmering prize was: completion. Michael opened his mouth against the flesh at the crook of her neck. He drew his aching cock from her body, leaving just the hint of the head inside the opening of her fluttering cunt. He swiped his tongue over her hot skin, the taste of salt pulling a groan from him. He opened his mouth, breath heaving in and out, and then he slowly sank his teeth into her body. “Yes!” she cried out at the first touch of hard teeth on her shoulder. His cock teased her, each beat of his heart flexing the head of it just enough to drive her crazy. Gemma tried to lift her hips and take him but he growled, deep and guttural, then bit down harder. The pressure of his teeth stilled her hips and drew a mewl from between her lips. Her soft cry served to amplify his bite and his growl until she felt her flesh give. “Please, mark me!” Hot blood welled beneath Michael’s teeth and trickled into his mouth. He sucked against Gemma’s skin, drawing the crimson fluid into his mouth. A bestial growl rumbled through him, and as he sank his teeth in farther, he slammed his cock home. He was so deep inside Gemma, he felt the bottom of her pussy give against his merciless invasion. Holding her locked in place with his bite, Michael sensed she wouldn’t move until his mouth released her. He let go of her hands and grabbed her hips. Sliding his thumbs in along the crease between her thighs and her swollen labia, he pulled her legs from around him. He pressed his palms high on her thighs, his thumbs teasing along the slippery wet lips of her pussy, holding her more open to his conquering shaft. He raised his body and put the full force of his power into each driving plunge of his cock. His growls grew louder, an almost continuous rumble of pleasure and dominance. “More!” Gemma screamed at him to finish, please finish, before she exploded from the pressure building within her. He filled her up, took her breath, gave her so much pleasure it rode the edge of pain. The burn of his hammering thrusts made her bite her lip harder, the hot spice of her own blood only serving to ratchet her need

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higher. Finally, he tore his mouth from her body and let go a roar of pleasure. “You are mine!” Michael pushed and pulled her body against his, faster and faster, harder and harder. He opened his eyes to watch the erotic friction of his body into hers, his cock glistening with her arousal. Her pussy was flushed a deep red from being taken without mercy. Her hands gripped his forearms, her nails tearing through the flesh, marking him as surely as he had marked her. “Forever! I’m yours!” The explosion of magic took Michael by surprise. With the first vise-like contraction of Gemma’s body around his, they both seemed to burst with power. A flash of red, followed by green, then purple exploded between them. Every place they touched throbbed with color and enchanted brilliance. Out of the corner of his eye, Michael saw his wings, not quite visible, pulsing with a rainbow of light. His balls drew tight and fire tore down his spine as his orgasm burst. He rammed himself deep, lodged far inside her still contracting flesh. Releasing her hips, Michael took her mouth once more and relished the power as it cycled from his body to hers and back again. Each pulse of release only fueling the exchange until, with one last thrust, he emptied himself into her and collapsed. Gemma’s body had never been so sated. Her soul had never been so light. Her body continued to quake with the magnitude of her orgasm, light still dancing behind her closed lids and power still coursing through her blood and across her skin. She felt the slickness of their release between her thighs as she tasted the truth of his need against her tongue. The covenant was complete; the pact had been made.

Chapter 12 Gemma awoke, disjointed images flashing before her mind’s eye. Hot flesh, the sweet fulfillment found in fresh blood, the unique sensation of being stretched to bursting by a large cock, the pressure of teeth on skin, magic, immeasurable magic burning her soul. She opened her eyes and tried to sit up, her breath catching at the sharp pain in her left shoulder. “What the hell happened?” She whispered the words and was careful not to speak too loudly lest the dancing in her head become a heavy drumbeat. She always felt slightly hung over after imbibing on body-fresh hemoglobin, but she couldn’t quite remember doing so. She rolled her cheek against the mattress and the scent of semi-dried blood hit her like a Mack truck. Her hunting instinct kicked in and she drew a deep breath, honing in on the origin of the scent. She blinked her eyes, her human sight shifting to infrared in an instant. There was a hot body next to her, its heart beating slow and steady, its breathing even. Sliding close, Gemma carefully pressed her face close to the vivid orange spot in front of her. She swiped her tongue across the salty skin and a bright flare of magic flashed, temporarily blinding her. “Ah!” She hissed and pulled herself away from the tempting meal, her humanity clawing its way through the predatory mindset controlling her body. She scrubbed her eyes, forcing her vampire sight away, opening her eyes to who and what was in her bed. “Michael.” She’d know that hair anywhere. If his long, chocolate locks and bare, heavily muscled back were all she’d seen, she might not have run. But that wasn’t all that was apparent once she got control of herself. She took in the spatters of blood on her white sheets. The tangy scent of it made

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her stomach grumble. She saw the slight, pink scars on his lower back and waist, evidence that she’d slashed him with her vampire talons. The soft purple bruise on his neck damned her. Those scars on his back and neck would never disappear entirely. They would remain as a lasting impression of the magic and power that tied them together for eternity. Wishing she was wrong but knowing she wasn’t, Gemma took a slow breath and closed her eyes. She looked with magic at his sleeping form and the last piece of evidence to dash her hopes blazed like a neon sign. His aura and hers were one, a rainbow of blues, greens, reds, and violets. She’d fed from him and he from her. They’d made a covenant, a pact, and they were bound. “Shit!” Gemma slid quietly from the bed, careful not to wake Michael. She had to get out of there. She couldn’t deal with this now. She didn’t want to deal with this ever. She quickly went to the dresser and pulled out clothes, throwing them on without caring what they looked like. She grabbed a pair of hiking boots from the floor beside the bed, and with one last look at Michael, she left the bedroom. Snatching her car keys from inside the kitchen doorway, Gemma barely registered the repairs to her home as she made her way through to the front door. Once outside, she made a beeline for her jeep, jumping in and starting it before her butt was fully in the driver’s seat. Thank God, it turned over on the first try. She put the car in gear and tried to ignore her aching body. Gemma cut through downtown Detroit as if the hounds of Hell were on her heels. Each mile she put between herself and the Archangel only served to intensify the pain pulsing through her system. Though she knew the part of her crying out for Michael was a side effect of what she’d done, it didn’t make the sting any easier to bear. Still, she squared her shoulders and squashed the sensations like a bug, ignoring them until the throbbing inside her receded to a manageable level. She had no need of a man, least of all an Archangel, and the sooner she got home, the sooner she could try to fix the cluster fuck she was in.

***

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Michael stirred, groggy and a little confused. He stretched his arm out, hoping to encounter a hot vampire, but instead found only cool bedding beneath his palm. “Gemma?” Michael sat up in bed and looked around the room. When he realized he was alone, he got out of bed. His chest hurt like the dickens, and he felt like he’d lost something he had to find. Immediately. “Gemma, where are you?” Scrubbing a hand over his face, he left the bedroom, not bothering to dress, and wandered down the hallway toward the kitchen. Before he’d gone three steps, sleep was a memory and he knew his woman wasn’t home. Anger started to burn and the pain in his chest got worse. “Fuck!” The expletive broke the stillness in the apartment. Michael rarely used such harsh words. Though his patience was nearly infinite, once gone, the temper he hid from the world only seethed and grew. He consciously grappled with his ire, tamping it down and recovering his calm. He knew he needed a clear head before he tracked Gemma down, so Michael decided a shower was in order. Hopefully, the water would ease what remained of his anger, as well as the strange ache around his heart. He strode back down the hall toward the bedroom and opened the door opposite it. Inside the tiny bathroom, he moved to the taps on the tub. While he waited for the knocking pipes to warm up, Michael looked at himself in the large mirror over her vanity. His neck was bruised and sported two small scabs where she’d taken his blood. His gaze traveled down his chest to his waist, where he noticed the faint pink scars decorating the skin. His brows drew together at the scars. His body should have completely healed any damage Gemma had inflicted by now. Shaking his head, he looked down at his hands and the cuts healing on their backs. Unsure what to make of his new markings, Michael left worrying about them for later and stepped into the tub. He made the water as hot as he could take it and leaned against the cheap shower surround. The steam and pounding pressure of the shower cleared his mind just as he’d hoped it would.

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Closing his eyes, he relaxed under the spray while images of the most passionate sex he’d had in ages flashed through his mind. He could feel her strong arms wrapped around his body, her strength shocking him. The first sharp bite of her teeth into his neck had brought both fiery pain and exquisite pleasure. The way the need to take her had exploded through him, her frantic response to his hard thrusts, how faultless her body was, so tight, and wet, and perfect for his cock. The tangy, dark taste of her blood and the feel of her flesh pinned between his teeth. All of it swirled in his mind, making his blood pound and his dick throb. Michael could remember sparkles of light and color, something about a covenant whispered in his mind. He could taste her skin, feel her body tightening around him. His memories released an onslaught of feelings. Suddenly, he needed relief, from the barrage of thoughts and emotions but also from the sexual hunger that raged through his body. He opened his eyes and spotted a bottle of body wash. Opening the cap, he took a deep breath and recognized the scent from Gemma’s skin. He groaned and poured a healthy dollop onto his palm. Moving out of the spray, he slid the slippery mixture over his chest, pausing to stroke each flat, masculine nipple in turn. Slowly, he moved his hand down his body, his cock already dancing with each beat of his heart, eager to feel a firm, wet grasp. The pounding spray drowned his hum of pleasure out, but Michael couldn’t have cared less who heard him beating off. His large hand encircled his cock, sliding her scented soap along the rock hard length from base to tip. In his mind, he saw her wet pussy spread open by his hands, his massive prick spearing into Gemma again and again. Her come coated his cock, the walls of her cunt rippling around him as she cried out for him to finish it, to take her over the edge into oblivion. I’m coming for you, Gemma. Michael stroked his hand faster and faster, twisting his wrist and sliding his fingers over the sensitive underside of his head. He thought of tasting her cream, eating her hot, little pussy until she begged him to stop.

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His balls tightened so fast, Michael couldn’t stop the near scream as he came. Fast and hard, he continued to stroke his cock until there was no more come to give, no more orgasm to be had. Then he slid down the wall and onto the floor of the tub, resting his head on his knees and drifting in the perfume of her soap and his release. He’d barely taken the edge off, and he couldn’t stop the quiet chuckle that thought gave him. When he found Gemma, he was going to fuck her brains out, and he was going to get some answers. As he absent-mindedly rubbed at the pain in his chest, he couldn’t decide which he’d do first.

Chapter 13 I’m coming for you, Gemma. The words blew into Gemma’s brain, followed fast by blinding pleasure. She gasped and jerked the steering wheel to the right, taking her jeep off the freeway and onto the berm. She threw the vehicle into park, barely able to form a complete thought as wave after wave of pleasure rocked through her body. Her clit swelled, her pussy filling with moisture. She threw her head back, images of hard bodies and slick skin flashing in her mind. The hard thrust of a thick cock sliding deep inside her welcoming flesh made her groan aloud. A familiar flavor filled her mouth, the coppery trace of blood inflaming her desire to a hungry thirst. She knew that taste. It was his blood. Michael’s blood. Dear God, what was he doing? He was the origin of this barrage of lust. She knew it in her soul. She wanted to be furious with him, but her body shivered with each swell of bliss, her nipples becoming hard, aching points. The level of passion, need, and lust he was feeling overwhelmed her. She had no choice but to allow his fantasy to take her. Gemma clamped her thighs together, trying to ease what was growing into so much more than an ache. Another white-hot blast through their connection, and Gemma threw her head back and moaned long and loud. She had to come, she had to plunge something between her legs and ride it until her body exploded. Tearing her jeans open, Gemma slipped the fingers of her right hand beneath the band of her panties. She stroked her clit hard, relishing in the slippery cream coating her fingers and her clothes. She opened her mind and reached out to him, without thought, without direction. Come and get me, Michael. Using her free hand, Gemma shimmied her pants over her hips to just above her knees. Once her lower body was properly exposed, Gemma tore through the panel of

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her underwear, baring her swollen flesh to the air. She groaned and brought her left hand to play with the slick lips of her pussy. Her right hand strummed her clit vigorously, making her body clutch, aching to be filled with something. To ease the throbbing, she thrust the fore and middle fingers of her other hand as deeply as possible into her aching cunt. “Mmm, so good!” Pulling her fingers from her clit, Gemma slipped her hand beneath her top and pinched her tight nipples savagely. The pain ricocheted straight to her core, her cunt pulsing around her plunging fingers in response. Again she squeezed the sensitive flesh, giving her swollen nipple a hard twist, filling the cabin of the jeep with the scent of her sex and desire. Spreading her legs as wide as possible, Gemma slid forward in the seat and canted her hips up, letting her fingers slip deeper between her slick folds. The pleasure grew, each pull of her hand on her tender nipple making juice rush from her pussy. Every slam of her fingers into her hot cunt caused her bottom to lift, seeking more. She could feel Michael’s orgasm gathering strength, so she released her now-sore nipple and plied her clit with hard strokes. Faster and faster, both of her hands moved, bringing her to the glittering, explosive brink. “Michael!” She felt his release burst down his spine and through his balls. Her cry was cut off, choked by the power of her own orgasm. Her cunt gripped her fingers like a vise, the fiery, slippery channel rippling around her hand. Gemma’s eyes rolled back in her head, the magic of her orgasm stealing thought, breath, and being. She floated, uncaring of the outside world, in a dazzling miasma of satisfaction and need, the first ebbing with each heartbeat and the latter growing in counterpoint. Slowly the real world came into focus. Shit! No matter how mind-blowing that psychic exchange had been, Gemma knew Michael would be feeling her release pulsing back down the line of their link. He was a very smart Archangel. He’d figure out he could tap into that and find her in no time. She had to move, had to try to get to Haven before Michael did. It was her only chance to fix this mess before he truly figured out how complicated feeding a vampire could be.

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***

Michael’s second orgasm took him by complete surprise. His spine bowed as he arched against the floor of the tub, hot water hitting him in the face. As his cock jerked, spraying come over his hard stomach, he realized the sensations he felt were not his own. Gemma. He didn’t need to question his gut; the feelings coursing through his mind and blood were hers. Somehow he managed to shut off the water and pull himself from the tub. He wobbled on his feet, having had little experience with multiple orgasms. He felt weak, yet so powerful at the same time. Staggering to the bedroom, he sat down hard on the bed and took a deep breath. Exhaling slowly, he closed his mind to emotion and scanned through the memory of last night with a mostly objective eye. Everything that happened -- the white blast of magic from Gemma and into him, the unintentional exchange of blood, and the magical explosion when they came -Michael carefully analyzed. Once he had his memory cleared, Michael leaned forward and rested his palms on his knees. He didn’t know exactly what they’d done, but the word covenant echoed in his brain like a mantra. He stood and, with the flick of his wrist, clean clothing covered his body. He found his utility belt on the floor, the heavy Kevlar material shredded by Gemma’s lethal talons. With a thought, he repaired the material. Digging through the pile of his ruined clothes, he located his boots and put them on. As he turned to leave the room, a niggling feeling crept up his spine. He tried to shake it off, but it grew until the compulsion to go to Gemma’s dresser was more than he could fight. He pulled open the top drawer, his gaze falling on what looked like an old book lying amidst her panties and bras. Michael frowned at the object, not sure what it was. When he picked it up, a spark of electricity shocked his hand. “Hey!” Unwilling to back down from something so small, Michael gripped the thing firmly in one hand and pushed the drawer shut with the other. He leaned against the dresser and looked the object over. Upon closer inspection, he realized it wasn’t a book at all, but rather an ancient

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box. Devoid of any markings, the case intrigued him. Finally, his curiosity got the better of him and Michael lifted the lid of the box. “Wha… it’s a portal!” His surprise at a vampire having a gateway to Heaven and Hell was quickly overcome by thoughts of his good fortune. Laughter built deep in his belly, growing until he was overcome by fits of deep, rolling guffaws. The woman had no idea how easy she’d just made finding her. Michael looked around the bedroom again, unable to wipe the self-satisfied grin from his face. Content that he had everything he needed from Gemma’s apartment, Michael set the open box on the bed and stood back. “To the gates of Haven, portal. Double time.” A rumble like thunder shook the room, followed by a flare of golden light which quickly filled the room. Michael disappeared into the yellow glow. Another clap of sound, and the room was empty.

Chapter 14 “It won’t be long now.” God flopped down on one of the overstuffed sofas in her office. Lucifer nodded his head in agreement. “Yet again, you win the bet. I thought for sure it would take longer than an Earth day for her to bite him. Damn it, you’d think by now I’d know better than to wager against you.” He laughed softly and laid his head against the back of his chair. His laughter faded and dark, serious eyes met Hers. “What?” “Are you sure now is the right time?” God sighed. “Do you mean to tell me you’d rather wait?” “No, that’s not it at all. But, well, it’s a big change.” Lucifer couldn’t hide his worry. If this didn’t go as planned, the outcome wouldn’t be good for either of them. “You know as well as I that this is the time. In another Earth decade, the time will be upon us. Amaliel is here now, and Luc is with you. We’ll be fine, Lucifer.” She reached over to him and laid Her hand over his. A gentle squeeze was enough to reassure him and bring the arrogant demon back to the surface. “Well, I’d love to stay and watch this play out,” he gestured to the large viewing screen behind Her desk. “But I still have a few demons to reprimand.” She quirked a brow at him and suppressed a smile. With a blink of power, Lucifer was gone, and she was alone. Looking around the room, a flitter of melancholy touched her heart. She shook herself and got off the couch. There was no reason to be down. Knowing how Her creatures liked to mess with the best-laid plans, the next ten human years would be filled with surprises.

*** The drive to Haven had taken Gemma the better part of the day. Despite her

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brief stop and subsequent double orgasm, Gemma had made good time. When his second orgasm had bombarded her, Gemma had built a wall between herself and Michael. She consciously kept her thoughts off him and the bond they shared, hoping to shut him out and keep him from tracking her. The long, dangerous drive high into the Appalachian Mountains was nearing its end, and Gemma breathed a sigh of relief as the massive wrought iron gates of Haven came into view. Her relief was short-lived, for as the gates became more clear, so too did the unmistakable body of a man. The man leaned against the stone wall that supported the fence, his body screaming nonchalance and arrogance. Michael. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” Gemma seriously thought about running him over, but instead she whipped the wheel to the right. Gemma slammed the vehicle to a stop so abruptly the jeep rocked on its wheels. Dirt, gravel, and grass sprayed his smug face. Throwing open the driver’s door, Gemma jumped out and charged around the back to confront him. “How did you get here?” Her tone wasn’t quite a yell, but it was close. Michael managed to stay cool, focusing on brushing away the debris she’d flung on him from his clothes and body. She’d nearly taken his eyes out, hurtling rocks at him like that. When he was sure he could reply without choking her, Michael looked up from his clothing and met her gaze. “Well, someone we both know conveniently keeps a portal in her dresser. Since I’m an Archangel, I had no problem using it to get here. You didn’t really think I’d just let you get away, did you?” He stepped closer to her, wanting to shake her and embrace her at the same time. She had no idea how beautiful she looked, the flush of life and anger pinkening her cheeks and making her magnificent breasts heave. Gone was the cool mask of death, and the savage state of hunger. In their place, her eyes flashed and her hands curled, and Michael wanted to tell her right then that he loved her. Gemma’s mouth fell open and shock made her face go slack. “Love? You love

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me? What kind of nonsense is that? You don’t know me well enough to love me.” Michael tried not to let her words hurt him, but his ire rose regardless. “How do you know what I’m thinking, Gemma?” Her mouth slammed shut and she crossed her arms over her chest, refusing to answer him. Michael waited for a few moments, but he gave up hoping she’d tell him and went on. “I know you better than you think, Gemma. I’m not going anywhere until you realize we’re perfect for each other.” “Have you fucking lost your mind? One bout of hot sex and you think we should get together for life?” The pounding beat of her pulse in her ears destroyed Gemma’s focus. Her heart kicked into high gear, and emotions she tried hard not to feel poured into the neglected organ. Her logical mind scoffed. The jaded part of her demanded she forget his pretty words. He can’t possibly love me. It’s the magic talking. “It isn’t the magic, Gemma. If you’d just give me a chance you might see things my way.” He stepped forward and tried to take her in his arms. She growled at him and her stance became aggressive, a wild being trapped in a corner, and Michael eased off. Holding his hands up in peace, he stepped away from her. Things weren’t looking good for him getting inside, so he played his ace. “Then again, that’s not you, is it? You’d rather ignore how you feel about me and run away from it instead of facing it.” He sighed to stop himself from laughing at the look of outrage that crossed her features. “How dare you,” her voice trailed off, while she tried to compose herself. A blood vessel in her temple throbbed and Gemma clenched her teeth, breathing loudly through her nose. “Look,” her voice rumbled, “obviously you aren’t gonna let this go. So I’ll tell you what. You come on in and look around, and give me some space to clean up and think. I’ll meet up with you in the library, say in two hours. Is that good for you?” She sneered at him, pissed she had to invite him in and pissed that he’d gotten her goat yet again. “Sure, that’s fine.” Michael looked deeply into her dark eyes, so many thoughts and feelings swirling in their depths. He couldn’t imagine the turmoil she felt, but he

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was sure her temper would lash out at him if he made one false move. He’d pushed her far enough, for now. “Get in the jeep, so we can get this over with.” She stomped back around to the driver’s side of the vehicle, rocking the car on its tires as she slammed the door shut behind her. Michael smothered a laugh, and approached the passenger door. His Gemma certainly had a way of making a guy feel wanted.

Chapter 15 Once he got in, Gemma started the jeep and pressed a button on the dash. The creaking of metal on metal grated as the gates opened to let them in. She gunned the engine, slammed the vehicle into drive, and tore through the entrance and into the courtyard of her massive estate. Michael couldn’t help but be impressed. Haven was a magnificent structure, marrying all the best in medieval castles with all the luxury and comfort the modern century could afford. Massive turrets marked the four points of the building, and gothic gargoyles kept watch from their perches along the stone roof. The courtyard was well manicured and calming, not what Michael expected at all. Several hale oaks and maples dotted the landscape, probably some of the oldest specimens on record. Gemma had avoided a water feature. Instead, a field of wild flowers bloomed in the late day sun. Overall, the effect was both intimidating and welcoming. “You’ve done well here.” He looked over at her and caught the wistful expression on her face. She looked more relaxed than a moment ago, but he still sensed her tension. “Thanks. I like to think so. I want all of my foundlings to feel at home.” Gemma met his compassionate eyes, and the incessant tug of his presence overwhelmed her. Though it was unwise, she had to touch him. Lifting her hand from the gearshift, she laid her warm palm on his strong forearm. The snap of magic falling into place, of the circle being completed, surprised them both. “What was that?” She tried to jerk her hand away but he stopped her, wrapping his fingers around hers. The ebb and flow of magic was unbelievable, and something just beyond his understanding teased him.

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Her blue eyes widened and her lips parted with her heavy breathing. “It’s nothing, Michael. Let me go.” She knew he didn’t believe her, but she also knew he wanted to give her what she’d asked for. Gemma hoped he wouldn’t figure out just how open his mind was to her, and how that ran both ways. If he wanted, he could delve deep into her memories, her emotions, and her thoughts. He could answer his own question from earlier as to how she had read his mind because he could do the same to her. His thoughts surprised her. She found nothing but honesty and true interest. He really loved her. He was so proud of her, so impressed by all she had accomplished alone. Gemma pulled her hand from his, and turned away, terrified that he’d read the confusion in her eyes, worried he’d realize how moved she was by his warm and loving thoughts. She opened her door without looking at him. “Well, we better get inside. Angela will be worried sick and I need a bath.” She tried for light and almost made it. He allowed her to brush off whatever had just happened in the car. His skin vibrated with the energy flowing over and through him, but he was determined not to give her a reason to avoid him, or push him away. “Who’s Angela?” Michael maintained some space between their bodies as they walked to the huge double doors at the entrance to her home. “She’s my right hand. She makes sure Haven runs smoothly and the kids behave while I’m out finding more vampires.” Gemma rapped on the thick wood door and waited for admittance. The door squealed open, its movement smooth despite the noise. “Ms. Gemma! I’m so glad you’re home!” Lacey was just one of the hundred or so foundlings who lived and learned at Haven. Gemma had found her in the backwoods of Georgia some eight years ago, a tiny child of six living in an overfull orphanage. Even in the time that had passed, the girl had failed to lose her southern drawl or her manners. “Hey, Lacey. Have you behaved while I was gone?” She embraced the gangly teen before going inside.

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“Who’s that?” Lacey’s whispered question and large eyes drew a soft laugh from Gemma. “That’s my… uh, friend. The Archangel Michael.” Lacey’s eyes somehow doubled in size as she took in the tall, muscled form behind Gemma. Michael gave her a wide smile and held out his hand. The girl carefully offered her own, and Michael drew it to his lips and bussed a quick kiss across her knuckles. “Pleased to meet you, Lacey.” The girl blushed scarlet and giggled. His charm was unavoidable. Gemma’s anger faded at his adorable gesture, and she grinned at him. “Lacey, would you like to show Michael around Haven? I need to go change and chat with Angela for few minutes.” Lacey nodded shyly and moved slightly away, waiting for him to join her. “She’s lovely, Gemma, and happy too. You’ve really done something wonderful with this place.” “Thanks, Mike. Lacey knows this place inside and out, so you’ll get the fifty-cent tour, for sure. Have her show you where the library is and I’ll see you in a little while.” Gemma ignored the urge to kiss him. With a cocky salute, she made her way up the massive spiral staircase that took up the majority of the entry hall. Michael watched her go, admiring her backside as she went. Lust shot through him, but he managed to keep it under control. He laughed to himself as he pondered what their next meeting would be like. He knew she’d be ready to spar and he looked forward to it. Turning to the young girl, Michael beamed at her as he walked to her side. “You ready to show me around? And don’t leave anything out, all right?” Lacey practically glowed when he placed her hand in the crook of his thick arm. She headed to the left of the main hall, and down a long corridor lined with doors. “Are you hungry? We can stop by the kitchen if you like. I’m sure Cook would be glad to offer you a repast.” At the mention of food, Michael’s stomach growled loudly. They both laughed.

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“I think that would be a good idea, Lacey. Let’s go meet Cook.” Just as Lacey had promised, Cook was indeed more than happy to fill Michael’s belly. When he’d eaten as much as he could hold and politely declined a third piece of apple pie, he excused himself from the kitchen and followed Lacey out. He asked her where the library was, and she showed him a massive room filled with books. Ceilings of easily thirty feet allowed for bookshelves the likes of which boggled the mind. A wall of French doors allowed ample light from outside into the space. There were several tables set up around the room, as well as chairs and sofas, for anyone to use. Lacey told Michael this was her favorite room, and he could see why. An avid book lover would gladly lose themselves in this room for an eternity. From the library, Lacey took him through the foundlings’ wing. Each room housed three or four vampires, every two rooms joined by a full bathroom. At first, Michael thought that might have been a bit of a squeeze, but Lacey showed him the space she shared with two other girls, and Michael was agog. The room was more than three times the size of his room at the Protectorate. There was plenty of room for each girl and all of her accessories. Michael pointed out that he hadn’t seen any boys, and Lacey rolled her eyes. She told him the boys lived in a separate wing, but that it was time for drills so most of them were outside. “You don’t do drills?” He was curious about how the sexes were educated at Haven. “Of course I do, silly. Ms. Gemma says that it’s important for us girls to know how to fight, just as much as it is for boys. But the drill classes stop being co-ed when we get to be seven years old, and the girls and boys don’t mix again, at least in combat, until next year.” Michael nodded his head, impressed that Gemma would separate the groups. He was certain it allowed the girls to mature without much comment from the boys, but it probably also helped the boys get control of their bodies a bit before tossing them back in with a lot of pretty females. “What about school, Lacey? What kind of curriculum do you follow?”

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“Same as humans, I guess. Well, except for our vampire education courses. All of those classes focus on what vampires are, how we develop, when our powers come, that sort of thing. That’s my favorite part of school.” She blushed softly and looked up at Michael. “We get to learn and use magic, find out about our history. It’s all so exciting!” Her enthusiasm was infectious, and Michael grinned back at her. “You mind showing me the classrooms? Maybe I can even listen in at one of your vampire courses. Say, you aren’t missing class are you?” “No, I’m off this afternoon. I had finals last week. Besides, Ms. Gemma would have told Ms. Angela I was showing you around, and they’d have let my professors know.” She tugged on his arm, her pace nearly a run as she shuttled him toward the school wing of Haven. Along the way, Michael couldn’t help but notice how much like the Protectorate academy Haven was. She had sparring rooms and a large practice field where a small group of boys were training. There were several game rooms filled with televisions and comfortable seating, arcade games, and what Michael assumed were new fangled, hand held versions of arcade games that several sets of youngsters were playing on TV. Back on the lower floor, Michael paused at a steel door. He heard screams coming from behind it but he couldn’t find a latch to let him in. “Lacey, go get help! Someone’s trapped!” He tried to find the hinges for the door, but it was set flush into the wall. “Archangel, no one is trapped. That’s where we all go when the need for blood arises. Alexi is the one crying out. He happened to come into his Singularity and his hunger all at once. Our doctors and Shaman are with him, helping him through the ordeal.” “What? Shaman? Doctors? I don’t understand.” Michael turned away from the door to face the girl. “Well, sometimes this happens. It happened to Ms. Angela. It can turn a vampire mad, making them a raving beast. The drive for blood becomes the only thought in

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their mind. If you can’t talk them out of the craziness, well, the Shaman is there to help them through it, but if they can’t be helped, he will end their suffering. It’s the only way.” Gemma had thought of everything. She’d found a way to keep all of her foundlings safe and secure. She provided them with everything they needed to be successful beings. The amount of love it took for someone to do what she’d done gave Michael hope. She had love within her, he just had to make her realize it. Michael took Lacey’s elbow and she led them away from the metal door. They traveled down another hallway which proved to be the passage through an exercise center, complete with an Olympic pool and weight rooms. Finally, they came to the classrooms. Several halls bisected the area, each one lined with lockers and doors. Lacey showed him the computer room, the science and magic labs, and the greenhouse. She pointed out the variety of plants used in both magic and medicine. Everything he’d seen simply floored him. Gemma had truly outdone herself. “…Covenant. Are there any questions, class? This material is imperative for you to understand and remember.” Covenant. The word drew Michael like a siren’s call. He heard a muffled voice say something, then the teacher answered. He followed that voice, pulling Lacey along, until they stood outside the open door of a classroom. “Yes, Jacob, that’s right. The only way to make a covenant is to exchange blood with either a Prince of Hell or an Archangel. Only those two beings represent the whole of either good or evil, and only they have the power to make your soul seek joining. That’s why you must be careful when drinking from either of these creatures. A single drop of your blood, given freely, and the magic is set. You can’t undo a covenant, so I suggest you be very sure before you go exchanging blood with Archangels or demons.” The class tittered, while Michael teetered on his feet. The knowledge of what was happening, or rather what had happened, between he and Gemma staggered him. “Lacey, would you like to introduce your friend?” The sound of the teacher’s voice startled Michael. He tried to tell Lacey no, but it

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was too late, the girl was already dragging him into the classroom. “Hello, Mrs. Carmine. This is Michael. He’s a friend of Ms. Gemma’s who has come to visit.” “I see.” Mrs. Carmine bowed to Michael. “Archangel, it’s very kind of you to stop in.” She righted herself, and faced the classroom. “Class, this is the Archangel Michael, God’s Beloved.” “Hello, Archangel.” The class was buzzing with whispers and interest. One cocky boy at the back of the class mumbled under his breath and the girl behind him smacked him on the head. “Ms. Lomax, what is the problem?” The girl shifted uncomfortably in her seat before answering. “Kevin said there’s no way that man is an Archangel. He doesn’t have any wings.” The class laughed and so did the teacher. “Kevin, if you paid even the least bit of attention in your magic courses, you’d know that Archangels have the ability to make their wings disappear.” “Actually,” Michael interjected good-naturedly, “they don’t disappear. They simply exist between the world of Earth and the world of Heaven. They’re still there, you just can’t see them.” “I can.” Lacey’s voice was timid. Michael turned to her in surprise. “She has the sight. She can see what exists beyond this realm.” Michael turned curious eyes on Mrs. Carmine. He wondered what else Lacey could see, but he didn’t want to air his or Gemma’s affairs in front of her staff. “Well, Lacey, suppose I show everyone else?” Lacey nodded gleefully, and Michael laughed. A few words, and he reversed the spell to hide his wings. Their glory burst into the vision of the rest of the class with bright, white splendor. “Wow! That’s awesome!” Michael entertained the class for several minutes with stories of the Protectorate and funny tales of his fellow Archangels. They all got a particular hoot out of the tale of

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Raphael and his badly brewed fire spell. Raph had lost all of his body hair for months after the brew combusted in his face. The ringing of a bell signaled the end of the class and Michael turned to Mrs. Carmine. “Ma’am, would you mind talking with me for a moment?” “I figured you’d have questions.” She laughed hard. “Lacey, you can go on. The Archangel and I are going to chat for a few minutes.” The girl hesitated a bit. Michael went to her side and took her hand. He kissed it again. “Thank you, Lacey. You’re a wonderful guide and I had a great time.” Lacey gave a dreamy sigh and a blush, then she left. “Now tell me, Archangel, how is it that you entered into a covenant and didn’t know it?” Michael wasn’t even stunned. He couldn’t be anymore, too many things had occurred for him to be shocked. “Would you believe me if I told you I had no idea that could happen? And that I was fulfilling a promise to a foundling when I fed Gemma?” “Ha, yes, I’d believe you. So, what is it you want to know?” “How exactly does it work, this covenant?” Mrs. Carmine sighed and took a book from the shelf near her desk. She opened the book and began to read, and as she read, everything became clear. “So you see, Archangel, the soul of a vampire can be either light, dark, or a blend of both. It’s determined by the path we follow and the choices we make. But when a vampire takes the blood of an Archangel or a Prince of Hell, it’s like a poison. If there is any darkness in their vampiric soul, the blood of the holy will burn it, burn them, and the only way to stop the pain is to exchange blood with the Archangel they fed from, creating a covenant, a rather unholy pact, between the vampire’s soul and the angel’s. I mean, she could have suffered the pain for the week or so it would take to work your blood from her system, but obviously that didn’t happen. The same idea goes for demonic blood, it sets fire to the light in a soul.” “But why the covenant? I don’t understand.” Michael got the gist of why he’d felt driven to taste her blood, but he couldn’t figure out why the blood exchange was

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necessary. “Because, with your blood in her body, Gemma’s soul realized it was torn. Half in light and half in dark, that’s what a vampire is. Most vampires never really understand what that means. But when a vampire soul is given the chance to bind itself to either light or dark, it jumps at the chance. Regardless of whether the two people even like each other, by binding the souls together a vampire gains power and peace.” “I see. The real downside is you’re literally bound forever.”

Mrs. Carmine hummed an agreement.

“One more thing. I wonder, does this covenant allow you to see into each other’s

minds and hearts?” “Well, of course.” “Great, and I have a feeling that separation from your partner causes physical pain, right? It hurts you to be far from them. You need to touch them, to be close to the other person in the pact. Am I right?” Mrs. Carmine closed the book and giggled. “That about sums it up. Now, the question is, what are you going to do about it? I told the class the truth: I know of no way to undo a covenant.” “Yes, but we both know Gemma is trying to figure out how to do just that as we speak.” He shook the woman’s hand and turned to leave the room. He had to find Gemma before she did something crazy. “Archangel,” Mrs. Carmine’s voice called to him.

“Yes?”

“If you focus on her, your link will show you where she is.”

Michael smiled broadly at the professor. “Thank you. I owe you one, Mrs.

Carmine.” She grinned back at him and shooed him on his way.

Chapter 16 “Angela, you have to help me. There must be something I can do to fix this.” Gemma was flipping through pages in her personal library of spell books, trying to find something she could use to sever the ties between her and Michael. Angela sighed heavily and set aside the stack of papers she’d been looking through. They’d been doing this for the better part of two hours, searching for an answer they both knew didn’t exist. “Why are you just sitting there? Get off your ass and help me!” Gemma threw the book in her hands to the floor and jerked another off the shelf in front of her. Angela’d had enough. “Gemma, stop this. You know as well as I do that you can’t reverse this. Your soul made a bond with his. It’s complete now! For God’s sake, Gemma! Instead of trying to avoid the situation, you should damn well be telling him what’s going on and trying to find out what new powers you’ll have to learn to control!” Gemma shook her head and continued to search through pages. “Fine, if you don’t want to help then get out! I’ll do it by myself.” Gemma dismissed Angela with a wave of her hand. Furious at her best friend’s cowardice, Angela stalked to her side and tore the book from her grasp. Clutching Gemma’s shoulders in her hands, Angela gave her a hard shake. “Don’t you take that attitude with me, Gemma Joyce! You haven’t been alone for at least the last four hundred and ninety-seven years because I’ve been here.” Gemma was furious. Angela could feel the rage streaming through her body, but Angela refused to back down. Gemma needed to hear the truth. “Look at yourself. Look at how you’ve acted since Michael’s been gone. You’ve been sullen and mopey and more of a bitch than normal.”

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Angela laughed a little and gave Gemma’s shoulders a gentle squeeze. The fight seemed to seep out of her friend, and Gemma managed a weak smile. “Well, yeah, you’re right. But that’s just because he made a promise and then he didn’t keep it.” Gemma might try to choke down that lie, but Angela was having none of it. “Bullshit. He means something to you. He meant something to you before he went away. Admit it to yourself, and I guarantee you’ll feel a lot better.” “You’re pushing it, Ange. There’s no way a covenant between me and an angel is gonna work. I mean, we’re stuck together for eternity! Sure, he’s great in bed but I can’t spend the rest of my life fucking.” “Doesn’t sound like a bad plan to me.” Angela smiled broadly, and released Gemma’s shoulders. She watched her friend kneel down, starting to clean up her mess. Ange squatted down beside her, covering Gemma’s slightly shaky hands with her own. “Listen to me, Gemma. You have to stop blaming every angel in Heaven for the errors of one. Just because your father’s an asshole doesn’t mean all of the Holy Host deserve your loathing and distrust.” “She’s right, Gemma. The last thing I want to do is hurt you. Challenge you, fight with you, guide foundlings with you, yes.” Gemma lurched to her feet and whirled around to see Michael standing in the doorway. She denied the jolt of her heart at his nearness. She ignored the nearly incandescent need to touch him, to hold him, that pounded through her blood. He startled me, that’s all. Yeah, sure. Gemma’s conscience mocked her. “What… how?” Michael went on as if she hadn’t spoken. “But I’d never purposefully hurt you. Do you know how hard these last weeks have been for me, wanting beyond my next breath to come to you and being unable to do it?” Gemma shook her head, trying to shore up her resolve. “Look, Mike, I’m glad you think all wonderfully of me, but the fact is I just don’t think this will work.” He ignored her defensive use of ‘Mike,’ and crossed his arms over his chest. “Is that right? Personally, I think you’re terrified that what you really want is the exact

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opposite. I think you’re too much of a fraidy cat to admit it.” He watched with hidden delight as her eyes shot wide open and her fists curled at her side. She was such a joy to irritate. “Of all the nerve! How dare you call me a coward! The very last thing I want is to be tied to you for the rest of my life! I don’t need you!” Her voice rose to a bellow, all of her frustration and anger and confusion funneling into the sound. Both Michael and Angela winced at the physical power her voice had gained. “Gemma, you’re being irrational. If you’d calm down, you’d see this isn’t so bad.” Michael felt her surging emotions gain momentum. Angela looked at him for guidance, but all he could do was shrug. He had no idea what to expect, or how to stop what was coming. “I am calm!” The shockwave of energy from Gemma’s shout knocked Michael and Angela off their feet. It blew out two windows in the room and overturned three tables. Michael shook his head to stop the ringing in his ears before getting back to his feet. He moved to Angela and made sure she was all right before giving her a hand up as well. They both looked at Gemma with expressions of irritation and surprise. Gemma stared agog back at them, her hands clapped over her mouth. “Well, that certainly puts a new spin on the term temper tantrum,” Angela remarked with dry wit. She looked at Michael, then at Gemma, then back at Michael, and apparently decided it was time for her to see her way out of the conversation. With a glare at Gemma and a smile for Michael, Angela left the room, closing the door behind her. “I like your friend, but she sure has a way of stating the obvious.” Michael made his way across the glass and debris until he stood in front of Gemma. She dropped her hands and wrapped her arms about herself. “Yeah, well, that’s Ange. Look, Mike, let’s agree to make the best of this situation. I won’t try to get in your way and you stay out of mine, okay?” She moved around him, careful not to brush against him.

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“No, Gemma, it’s not okay.” Before she got more than two steps from him, he yanked her into his arms, wrapping them around her so tightly she couldn’t escape. He buried his face in the curve of her neck and bit her, hard enough to leave marks. Lust, so hot and powerful, exploded from her and into him. They both gasped at the sensation, his cock going from semi-hard to rail spike in no time. She pushed her hips back against him as hard as she could, wiggling against his erection. Her nipples pebbled beneath his forearm as he tightened his right arm over her ample breasts and slid the other lower, cinching around her belly. He pressed himself hard against her lush ass, his groan of satisfaction echoed by a soft, low moan from her. His hard body at her back and his strong arms enveloping her were too much. She felt the magic between them tighten around her soul and his. Gemma closed her eyes, opening up her mind, seeing clearly the merging of their auras. Her pussy throbbed and moisture pooled between her legs. Her body was so wet, so ready. All she wanted was to feel his massive cock pounding in and out of her, making her scream with pleasure. She wanted him so badly. She needed to be a part of him more than her next breath, and she was suddenly tired of fighting. “Michael, touch me.”

Chapter 17 The hunger in her words made his cock twitch. He growled against her skin and inhaled her unique scent. She made him dizzy, his desire for her growing with each breath. Michael loosened his arm from her waist, splaying the fingers wide as he trekked a path to her pussy. He slid his hand over the top of her crotch, cupping his fingers around her and lifting slightly upward. “Oh, yes.” She moaned and tightened her thighs around his hand, holding him hard against her aching clit, using the friction of her damp jeans to shoot pleasure through her body. His hand tightened around her and he rolled his palm over the swollen bud of her sex, wringing a loud groan from her throat. “Do you like this, Gemma?” He pushed his cock hard against her buttocks while continuing to ply her responsive flesh with pressure. She brought her hand around to cover his, pressing him harder against her pussy and rolling her hips. “Take me, Michael. Take me now. I need you!” Gemma was beyond ready, beyond anything besides impaling herself on his thick, hard cock and rocking her way to oblivion. She dug her nails into his hand before releasing him and tearing at the fastening of her pants. Michael wanted to go slowly, to make love to her, but the frantic pulse of her desire served to increase his. He’d look into her eyes, watch them widen as he slid deep. The arm he’d banded around her chest relaxed, and he slid his hand to the hem of her shirt. Tunneling beneath the fabric, he stroked her warm, supple flesh, groaning when he found her full breast unbound. He covered one breast, gently squeezing the flesh, before rolling the nipple between his fingers. She thrust her ass against him, proof enough that she wanted more. The tug of his fingers against her sensitive nipple made Gemma crazy. She

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wanted hard and rough, but his gentle ministrations made her achy, her lust growing tenfold. “Don’t tease me!” Memories of the last time she’d accused him of teasing bombarded her mind, and she keened in frustration. She tore away from him, staggering to one of the tables that still sat upright. Shucking her clothes, she bent over the table, pressing her hot flesh against its cool surface. Her body quivered with need, her pussy contracting and relaxing, so close to coming before they’d even begun. Her cunt was so wet. The pass of air across her flesh set her clit to throbbing and her hips to wiggling. The sight of Gemma, bent over and exposed, floored Michael. Her labia gleamed in the light of the room, each pulse of her body clearly evident. Cream slipped from her cunt, coating her lips, her clit, and her thighs. Michael rubbed his palm along the ridge in his jeans, imprinting the scene on his brain. She was begging him to fuck her, and he could only oblige. He unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock, the shaft a deep, vibrant red. The plum shaped head had darkened to purple, veins stood out in sharp relief from his balls to the crown, and pre-come glittered at its tip. He strode to her, and grabbed her hips hard in his hands. “You’re a little low this way.” Lifting her up, he helped her pull her knees beneath her body, bringing her wet slit into perfect alignment with his heavy cock. Michael dipped first one finger, then another, just inside Gemma’s opening. He smeared the cream around her rosy asshole, not intending to take her there but wanting to touch every part of her body, telling Gemma he’d have every hole she offered without saying a word. “Put your cock in me, Mike!” Her growl warned him she was done being nice. He smirked at the back of her head but gave her what she wanted. With his hands holding her hard enough to bruise, he lined up his cock and slammed home. “Yes!” Her hot cunt felt so good! Michael pulled her more firmly against his groin, burying himself deeply inside her. She flexed her pussy around him, milking him. “Again! Do it again!” She tried to move, but his grip was unbreakable. His wide

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cock had speared into her, taking her breath and making pleasure explode in waves through her body, radiating from her cunt and clit, out into her extremities. Every cell in her body rejoiced, thankful to be joined with him. Michael withdrew from her slowly, relishing the slippery grip of her body. When he was fully withdrawn, he heaved his hips and pounded back into her. She screamed his name, and without thinking, Michael opened himself to her. “Oh, my God!” His roar of bliss reverberated down through his cock and into her. Gemma felt him reach out to her through their link and she accepted him, unlocking the door to her mind and throwing it wide. She could feel him buried deep inside her, and she could feel the pleasure he enjoyed from her wet heat. It wasn’t as if she were in his body; it was more as if she could feel everything he felt. When he started to stroke in and out of her body in a strong, heavy rhythm, Gemma fed her pleasure back to him. Their growing need bombarded Michael, every slide of his cock into her body not only pulling him closer to orgasm, but also echoing her gratification back at him. He felt how good she felt. When he hit a particularly delicious spot inside her cunt, they both screamed at the sensation. Soon his measured pace broke and he was hammering himself into her as fast, hard, and deep as he could. Her cunt seeped juices all over his cock and balls, the sodden sound of hard fucking barely cutting into their blinding pleasure. “I’m not letting you go, Gemma!” His breath heaved as he continued to thrust forcefully into her welcoming body. She screamed in supplication, her mind open to him, her body open to him. He felt her acceptance of his dominion flash through her body, and he released one of her hips. Sliding his hand up her back, he tangled his fist in her hair and jerked her body up off the table. Pleasure/pain roared through Gemma at his rough treatment. Part of her demanded she fight him, but the other part was more than happy to be taken so

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roughly. As her body rose off the table, his cock slid from her with a slippery pop. He pulled her off the table, hauling her against his sweat slick body, baring her neck. She knew what was coming, but instead of fighting it, she wrapped her arms around his neck and arched against him. “Yes.” His bite was fast and deep, blood welling instantly. Her knees went out, pleasure taking her breath and her will. Her body hovered on the edge of release, each suckle of his mouth against the bleeding wound taking her one step closer. He pressed himself against her, thrusting a massive thigh between hers. He took one turgid nipple between his fingers, pinching it hard, before his hand glided down her body and once more found its way to her pussy. With her legs spread, she was open to him, and Michael plunged two fingers, three, fast and hard into her cunt. “Don’t stop!” She bucked against him, her pussy rippling around his brutally invading fingers. Michael’s head spun, the heady flavor of her blood bringing something savage in him to the fore. He opened his eyes and watched her breasts bounce with each thrust of his hand, a growl of satisfaction rumbling in his chest at her escalating cries of need, the short whimpering sounds pushing him to slam into her harder and faster. He felt the need coil tight inside of her, and just before he knew she’d explode, he released her. “No!” Gemma staggered, her entire body on fire. Michael stood back from her and slowly licked his fingers, sending her his delight in her musky flavor through their link. He took her hands in his, and switched their positions. He laid on his back on top of the table. “Take me, Gemma.” His gravelly command spurred her into action. She scrambled onto the heavy wooden table and straddled him, not bothering with any manners or skill. She grasped his hard cock in one hand, giving it a slow upward stroke, then brought it to her wet opening. As he slid his hands up to cover her breasts, Gemma impaled herself on his length. “Fuck yes!” She threw her head back in abandon and covered his hands with her own. Michael watched through passion heavy eyes as she raised herself up and

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slammed down again. Over and over, she took him as hard as he’d taken her, pounding, grinding, hammering her cunt onto his cock until he knew they were both but one swivel of the hips from explosion. He let go of her left breast, moving his thumb to part her soaked lips, burrowing to find her clit. She screamed her release at the first pass of the pad of his thumb across her erect clit. “Michael!” Stars glittered behind her closed lids, and magic exploded from her body in a brilliant flash of color. She continued to ride him, as hard and as fast as her shaky body and contracting pussy would allow. Each stroke made her come again, made her cunt clutch his massive cock, made her scream in ecstasy. Her orgasm raced through him, tightening his balls and making his spine crack with power. He took her hips in his hands again and savagely stopped her motions while he lifted his pelvis from the table. Repeatedly, he hammered into her fluttering cunt until his orgasm crescendoed and he released his load deep into her heat. “Ahhh!” Over and over, his balls throbbed until his come filled her up. One final thrust and he was empty, but the cycle of orgasmic bliss wasn’t over. Hers echoed through him, and his into her, until both of them were so weak they couldn’t move. She’d collapsed on top of him, her breathing loud and ragged, her body shaking with the aftereffects of a mind-altering orgasm and the remnants of magic. When Michael felt capable of speech again, he tried to speak. His voice croaked, so he cleared his throat and tried again. “I think that should settle it, don’t you?” He meant for his comment to be light, but he felt her withdraw. “Look, the sex is great but there’s more to life than sex.” She tried to move off him, the feel of his semi-hard cock inside her flesh making it difficult to focus on anything other than his body under hers. It was hard for her to think of a good reason why she should be against this covenant with her orgasm still shining and her body so replete. “Gemma, this is more than two people relieving an itch. I want you to be with me. I want to be with you.” Michael sighed and slowly rubbed her back, trying to find a

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way to make her understand how he felt. “I know. And I like you too, against my better judgment. But I have a life and a goal here on Earth, and you live and work with the Protectorate. It’d never work.” “I was thinking about that. You know, what you have here is a lot like the Protectorate Academy. I think you’d be an asset to us, and we to you. Think about it. Your foundlings could get to know and learn from angels and demons, and angels and demons could get to know vampires better. I know our classes on vampires leave much to be desired and I imagine your information on angels could use updating.” She snorted. “Well, you guys could certainly use some new data.” “Exactly. I’m not saying your foundlings will get long needed closure with their parents, but they might meet some siblings. It’d be good for us all. What do you say?” Gemma pondered it for a moment, letting a tentative hope fill her. Then her dark side reared its ugly head. “So I’m just a means to an end then? This is what you wanted all along, isn’t it? After three thousand years, you and your Protectorate have decided I need your help? Forget it!” She knew she wasn’t making any sense, but she just couldn’t seem to let herself trust him, no matter how much her soul, and her heart, told her she could. She climbed off of him and moved to pick up her clothes. “What are you talking about? This has nothing to do with the Protectorate or your abilities. Fuck, Gemma! What the Hell is wrong with you!” His fury took Gemma aback. Michael’s eyes flashed with rage, his hands curled into fists. She’d never seen him truly angry, and for a moment he scared her. Michael felt her fear and all the ire went out of him. He sighed heavily, then made a decision. Summoning clothes for them both, he garbed them while her surprise held her immobile. “What are you doing?” “Fixing this mess, once and for all.” Michael strode to her and took her hand. She tried to break free, but he wasn’t letting go. Closing his eyes, he called to Gabriel. Brother, I need your help. What can I do? Gabriel’s presence filled Michael’s mind.

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I need transportation to Heaven. Well, Gemma and I do.

She can’t come here, Michael. Gabriel sounded sad.

I think she can now. Trust me, I’ll explain later. Michael was certain he was right

about this. I’ll try. Gabriel sounded wary, but Michael felt the pull of magic a moment later. A sparkling white and blue cloud enveloped Gemma and himself. She gasped and clutched his hand tighter and he couldn’t help but smile. When he felt the pull on his soul, he opened his eyes to look at Gemma. Her eyes were wide with fear. “What was that? Mike, what are you doing?” He only stared at her as their bodies dissolved, taking both of them to Heaven.

Chapter 18 “Remiel! Get your ass out here!” Michael bellowed the words to nothing in particular. Gabriel had brought them to the Hall of Souls, and Michael couldn’t have been more pleased. Remiel attended the Hall, so obviously Gabriel had figured out what Michael had planned. Gemma had fallen to the floor once they’d materialized in Heaven. Her stomach had lurched and her head spun. She never wanted to do that again. When she registered who Michael was calling, she struggled to her feet. She didn’t need anyone fighting her battles for her. “There’s no need for cursing, Michael. What do you need?” Gemma couldn’t stop her gasp of surprise as her father came into view. His short platinum locks and vivid blue eyes were the image of hers. He was slight of build compared to Michael, and on the short side as well. He looked like hope incarnate. Which Gemma thought was appropriate, considering he was the Angel of Hope. “Who is this you’ve brought, Michael? You know no one is allowed here.” Remiel’s face pulled into a frown of disapproval, and Gemma suddenly wanted nothing more than to leave here and never come back. “I’ve brought your daughter, Remiel. Lilith’s daughter, Gemma Joyce. I think she has something to tell you, and by God you’re going to listen!” Michael’s voice boomed, and Remiel was clearly shocked. “My daughter? But how?” Something in his words struck Gemma hard. She got pissed, and found both her voice and her strength. “What the fuck do you mean, how? You do know how babies are made, right?” Remiel was completely shocked by her outburst, but Michael could only chuckle.

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Oh, man, three thousand years of pissed off was about to explode. “Yes, I know!” Remiel blushed and sputtered indignantly. “What I meant was how is it that you are here? You shouldn’t be able to be here.” “Yeah, well, I got myself a pact with an Archangel. I guess it gives me some added bonuses.” Remiel blanched a bit. “Well, daughter, it seems you’ve done well.” “Yeah, no thanks to you. I’ve only got one question for you. Why did you leave me?” Gemma couldn’t stop the emotional break in her voice. For all her anger, the hurt child inside cried out, wanting so much to be loved and wanting to know why she’d been forgotten. “I left you with your mother, Gemma. I had responsibilities here. I couldn’t just leave. Surely, you understand.” “No, I don’t understand. Not one bit. Do you know what my life was like, living with Lilith? I was beaten, abused, and abandoned! Do you even care?” Tears rolled down her face unchecked. She wanted to flee, but she was so tired of running away. Strong arms enveloped her, and Gemma looked into the handsome face of Michael. His eyes brimmed with compassion. He felt her pain, and his gaze made it clear he’d take it from her if he could. “I’m sorry, Gemma. Truly I am. If I’d known, I’d have tried to help. I want you to know, I didn’t leave you because I didn’t love you. I left because I loved God more.” Remiel’s voice shook, as if the magnitude of his indifference had finally hit home. His eyes were red rimmed and he clenched his jaw, as if trying to hold back his emotions. She sniffed and looked at her father, really looked at him. Opening her mindsight, she took in his form. He was telling the truth, but more than that, regret glowed brightly around him. She wanted to stay angry, but here in the arms of Michael, she finally understood that she couldn’t keep holding onto the past. “I understand loving God more, Remiel. I don’t understand leaving a child to suffer.” She looked away from her father and up at Michael. “Let’s go home. I’m done here.” Michael nodded and turned his head to glare at Remiel.

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“Wait! Gemma, would it be all right if I came to see you?” His question was hesitant, and he wrung his hands. Gemma looked to Michael for guidance, but he shook his head. This had to be her decision. She hugged him tight before answering her father. “I’ll let you know about that.” A quick flash of pain crossed Remiel’s features, but he nodded to her before disappearing from their sight. “Are you okay?” Michael stroked her back, soothing her, loving her. “Yeah, I’m okay.” She gave him a tremulous smile. Thoughts of a relationship with her father creased her brow, but Michael kissed the worry away. “Don’t agonize about it now. You have plenty of time to decide. Hey,” his lips lifted in a bright smile, “before we go, I’d like to show you around the Protectorate. You up for it?” “Does it involve that thing we just did to get here?” She swallowed hard. Michael chortled. “Yes, it does. I promise the second time is easier than the first.” She rolled her eyes and gripped him tightly. “Make it quick, Mike.”

*** They spent the rest of the day wandering through the Protectorate Academy. Gemma had to agree, this setup was pretty much identical to hers. Michael introduced her to many of the students and the other faculty. He made sure they stopped in to see Soluna and Amaliel. Gemma thanked them both for saving her life, although she was a little irritated to find out that Amaliel had made the request which led to her and Michael becoming bound. But her ire was short-lived. After all, Amaliel was too cute to be mad at. Gemma had noticed the child’s father was absent, but Soluna assured her that Raphael would shape up. She and the Paramount had shared a laugh over that, and then Gemma and Michael had left. They’d met up with Gabriel and Malina for a light supper, during which Michael told Gabriel all about Haven.

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“That’s quite impressive, Gemma.” “Thanks, Gabe. So glad you approve.” Gabriel had frowned a bit at the nickname, but Malina had found it hilarious. “Gabe, I love it!” The powerful Archangel had leaned over to whisper something in her ear, and Lucifer’s daughter had blushed. She’d squirmed a bit in her chair, and the sexual tension between them grew palpable. “Hey, you two,” Michael interrupted. “Go get a room or something.” Everyone had laughed at that, but supper didn’t last much longer. Before they’d parted company, Gemma had finally asked the one question that had been nagging her for a couple thousand years. “Gabe, I gotta know. Why didn’t the Protectorate answer any of my calls for help?” Stillness had settled over the table. Michael had taken her fisted hand in his and squeezed reassuringly. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am about that. Maybe someday I can tell you the whole story, but for now, will it suffice if I tell you I wasn’t answering anyone’s calls at that time?” Gabriel had looked extremely uncomfortable and a shameful pink tinged his cheeks. Gemma had looked to Michael, and his slight nod reassured her. “Yes, it will.” After that, they’d parted ways and Michael had led her through the Protectorate, toward his room. Now, they were lying on his bed, naked and wrapped in each other’s arms. Gemma looked deeply into his blue eyes and finally admitted to herself that she was home. “It’s about time.” Michael laughed and nuzzled her breast. They’d been cuddled together for a while, learning each other’s bodies and reveling in being together. He knew she was slightly ticklish on the insides of her elbows, and she knew he turned to mush when she plunged her tongue into his ear. “Hey, you aren’t supposed to read my mind without permission.” She giggled and swatted at his bottom.

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He jumped in faux pain before leaning in to take her mouth with his. The kiss was slow and thorough, his tongue dueling with hers, their tastes mingling in his mouth, stirring the soft desire into a hot, consuming need. Michael covered Gemma’s body with his, leisurely gliding his hard cock against the lust coated lips of her pussy. She moaned and arched her neck. “Open your eyes, Gemma, and look at me. I want to see your face while we make love.” She whimpered, her body lifting into his, and complied. Her brilliant cerulean eyes met his, her pupils filling the iris, her desire blatant. Michael took his time, gliding into her body inch by grueling inch, until his balls rested against her ass. He groaned with satisfaction. Carefully, he pulled out, then slipped back inside of her greedy cunt, relishing the juices of her arousal dampening his skin. He laced his fingers through hers and held her gaze, letting all of his pleasure course through her and welcoming her pleasure back into him. They stayed that way for a long time, each slow stroke methodically walking them toward release, the ebb and flow of passion heightening each movement. They kissed, long deep kisses of longing. Gemma wrapped her legs around his waist, grinding herself gently against his groin, clenching and unclenching her vaginal muscles around his cock. When they’d both taken slow as far as they could, Michael rocked back on his heels and took her ass in his hands. He never broke eye contact as he sped up his movements, pummeling her slick cunt, pounding cries of ecstasy from her body. Her hands gripped his wrists, and she lifted herself into each stroke. The power of watching his eyes as they made love took Gemma’s breath away. There was so much dancing in them: desire, need, respect, and love. She couldn’t deny the love that shone in their depths. She fought the urge to close her eyes and savor the strong beat of his thrusts. Instead, she pushed her hips against him, reaching for the blistering release just beyond her grasp.

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He held her tight and pulled her to him, hitting her g-spot and her cervix with each glide of his cock. She tightened her pussy around him, digging her fingers into his wrists at the wave of fire that flashed through her body, the heat that coursed through her just before she came. “I love you, Michael!” She couldn’t stop the words, couldn’t stop the hard contractions of her wanton flesh around his. Joy crashed through her, his joy. “I love you, Gemma!” Michael couldn’t describe the power of his release. Jubilation filled each pulse of his balls, happiness beyond imagining sweetening the sting of his magnificent orgasm. He collapsed on top of her, breath heaving, eyes watering with emotion and exertion. Gemma wrapped her arms tightly around him and held him close. This man, this Archangel who had put up with her shit and accepted her anyway was beyond all she could have hoped for in a life partner. It might be an unholy pact, but their covenant was solid all the same. What a ride they had ahead of them. She giggled softly at the thought and he grunted in response. “If you think I’m gonna let you take that back, you’re wrong. I’m keeping your love.” His words were muffled against her breasts, but she heard them nonetheless. “I wouldn’t have it any other way. Now get your big ass off of me. I can’t breathe.” He laughed and rolled to his side, taking her with him. That was his Gemma.

Epilogue “Well, that’s two down, two to go.” Lucifer tapped the ashes off the end of his cigar and grinned at God. She arched a brow at him but couldn’t help the grin that tugged Her lips. “Have you seen what’s to come for number three?” Laughter filled Her voice. Lucifer rolled his eyes. “Ugh, yeah. I tell you, that boy of yours needs to be smacked with a stupid stick. And don’t say it, I know none of it’s ‘supposed to be easy’.” He mocked Her soft, lilting voice and She laughed outright. “By the way, you lost this bet, Lucifer. It’s time to pay up. And don’t think I don’t know you’ve been stalling.” She laughed harder at his groan. “How about one averted bombing and ten flat tires? Damn drunk drivers.” “Sounds like a deal to me.” God smiled broadly and sat back in Her chair, the worries of tomorrow forgotten for now.

Emma Ray Garrett I took the road less traveled by, and let me tell you it’s a wild roller coaster, this life I live. Through it all, though, writing has kept me (moderately) sane. I’m the ultimate alpha female and my husband loves me anyway. I have three beautiful children who keep me busy, but I always find time to get words on paper. Fans can contact

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