Domiel Read online

  Three more solid pounds on the door and Domiel yanked it open, jeans unbuttoned and unzipped, not the least bit ashamed at being caught with the newbie—until he saw who stood on the other side.

  Ambrose, his feet planted apart, looked ready to do battle. His shoulder-length black hair was pulled back, his brown leather jacket wet from the rain, his face taut with pain. He looked behind Domiel to the sleeping form, then back to him without blinking. “I need you to track someone down. Immediately.”

  Surprised Ambrose had sought him out in the armory, Domiel only nodded. He had yet to go on his first mission for the Alliance. Where the hell was his shirt?

  When Ambrose didn’t elaborate, Domiel figured he should say something. “A tracking mission?” Normally assassins were given a name and address, and their mission was to assassinate whatever vic they were sent in for. The heads of the Alliance were the individuals to hand down the sentence, and the assassins were sent in to deliver the sentence, but tracking? He hadn’t signed on to be a tracker.

  Finally finding his shirt hanging on the barrel of an M16, he slipped the black cotton over his head and tugged it down his torso.

  Ambrose had taken a few steps into the armory, staying out of the rain. He pinched the bridge of his nose and stood there for a few seconds. “Kelsey. She left about an hour ago.”

  Domiel had leaned over to pick up one of his boots when the familiar name stopped him cold. He must not have heard him right. “Kelsey? As in…”

  “You’re wasting time.” Ambrose bit out. “I need you to bring her back for questioning.” His body remained rigid, his face stoic.

  Damn, could Ambrose be that cold? The male was known for his soft spot concerning the three musketeers—Alexia, Jade, and Kelsey. They got away with shit the other assassins could only dream of. Kelsey, however, had always been the quiet female of the bunch. If anyone should be taken to task, it should be Alexia, not Kelsey. “Why?”

  “Your business is to track her and bring her back, not ask me questions.” Each word had come out as its own sentence. Ambrose’s temper seemed at odds with the pleading look in his troubled eyes. “I’m sending you because you aren’t involved with her. There’s no one else who can be objective. Kelsey has a way about her once you get to know her…” His voice trailed off, and he folded his arms. “She left about an hour ago from the training field.”

  Domiel wasn’t close to her, but she remained the only individual he’d desired to get to know better. The thought of having to apprehend her for a crime sat ill with him.

  Ambrose looked around the armory. “I’ve turned a blind eye to your indiscretions for months now. I’ve allowed you a time of leave after your fall from grace.” Ambrose’s gaze returned to him. “No more. You prove your worth to the Alliance or you forfeit your place as an assassin. You know as well as I do that once you leave the Alliance, Luc will waste no time in approaching you for his own legions.”

  Domiel’s name no longer graced the Book of Life. Luc could coerce him. At the very least, Luc would make his life a living hell.

  “She also has the ability to communicate through thought,” Ambrose continued. “She’ll use that power to check up on our status where she’s concerned. Alexia is being held and watched so she can’t communicate with her, right along with Jade. Don’t tell anyone where you’re going, or who you’re going after. Otherwise she’ll know.”

  A strange sensation came over him. Dread? “She can communicate by thought?”

  “Thoughts and dreams. As long as it’s on the subconscious level, she can communicate.”

  Well, hell. That explained a lot. He wasn’t embarrassed she’d caught him though. It had been a damned good dream.

  Ambrose leaned forward until they were nose to nose. “Bring her back. Tonight. If you don’t reach her by the time the sun comes up she’ll be long gone.” He turned to leave, muttering, “If she’s not out of the country already.”

  “Do I have an acceptable level of force I can use?” Domiel hated to ask, but he’d need to take the kid gloves off if he had any chance of wrestling her back. Quiet she might be, but he’d seen her level men twice her size. The woman fought dirty when needed, and she never apologized for it.

  Ambrose glanced back at him, narrowed his eyes, and threw over his shoulder, “She’s a vampire. She’ll heal if you feel the need to use excessive force. However, you’d better bring her back alive.”

  Ambrose slammed the door behind him, leaving Domiel to contemplate what had just transpired. Kelsey was one of their oldest and most trusted assassins. What the hell could she have done to bring the heads of the Alliance down on her? Not to mention she had run, which meant she must be guilty of whatever they wanted to speak to her about.

  Whenever he saw her something tugged at his memories, as though he’d met her before he’d enlisted in the Alliance. But that was impossible.

  Domiel turned back to … what the hell was her name? Karen? Casey? He ran his hand over his new buzz cut. A few short months ago he’d been an Angel of Souls on a mission—to help Jade make the transition from this plane of existence to the next after being marked for death by the powers that be, but he’d come up against an unmovable object—Samael. A former Angel of Souls, Samael had begged him not to take Jade’s soul. Samael had been willing to give anything to keep Jade with him, and Domiel had done the unthinkable.

  He’d allowed her to stay.

  In doing so he’d fallen from grace, though he hadn’t martyred himself just for the sake of Samael’s girl. He’d wanted to experience the connection Jade and Samael shared, but so far the relationships Domiel had experienced since he’d been in this realm didn’t compare.

  Heaven had been sterile, in a way, compared to the emotions one experienced on earth. Lust was the biggest and most challenging sentiment to come to terms with, since lust was dormant in Heaven. He’d run with that, hoping to understand why humans did the things they did for others. He’d taken almost every willing woman to bed, though none had stirred anything other than his sex.

  He glanced down at the young recruit’s sleeping form. His jacket covered most of her body, and though he could remember her curves, he could recall little else. He left the armory, leaving his jacket lying on top of the woman whose name he couldn’t remember, wishing for all the world he didn’t have to track the female whose name he could.

  Chapter Two

  Paris, France

  Spring in France. A vacation spot for lovers of art, lovers of history, and for lovers in general. A city where ancient structures and modern idiosyncrasies collided, it remained a destination to lose oneself and create memories to last a lifetime. Kelsey absolutely detested the city, though she had no recourse. The demon framing her chose victims in this city, so Paris was her only lead at the moment.

  There’d been a time Paris had been one of her most beloved hangouts. She, Lexie, and Jade had frequented the nightclubs and restaurants, got drunk and rowdy. The town had a vibrancy to it she’d once adored. Of course, a little demonic torture and near insanity as she lay trapped in the dank catacombs beneath the city for months had tainted the city’s flavor for her forever.

  She glanced around the long-term parking lot of the airport for a decent car to hotwire. The Alliance would be onto her soon. Especially since she’d hijacked one of their new jets and held a nine mil to the pilot’s head throughout the flight.

  Her pink sweats had dried somewhat while she’d been on the plane, but without exercise to keep her heart rate up, she was freezing her ass off in the cold spring temps. Thankfully the sun would be up shortly, and she could get her ass to a shop and buy some new clothes.

  Finally settling on a POS Toyota Corolla tucked ass-backward in the corner of the lot, she made short work of jimmying the door and yanking the steering column open.

  The energy of a demon manifested in her vicinity, and she fumbled with the wires in her hand. Normally that meant it was time to take out her daggers and eliminate the threat. Knee-d
eep in hotwiring the Corolla, she had no time to waste, and not many options.

  The spicy scent of the demon grew stronger as heavy boot steps picked up speed, echoing inside the cement structure. Shit. He’d honed in on her energy source already. Fighting the urge to quit what she was doing and take him out, she quickly finished twisting the wires together, relieved when the car’s engine roared to life.

  When she straightened in the driver’s seat and turned on the headlights, they illuminated a familiar male standing in front of the car. Wearing black leather, black military boots, and armed to the teeth, she knew he was there for her. The newbies always overdressed for the job, and this particular Casanova was no exception.

  So they’d sent Domiel, a trainee with no prior experience and no sense of duty to bring back one of their top assassins? Seriously. A rookie?

  Ambrose must think her soft. It truly hadn’t occurred to her that he thought her this far gone. Domiel, for fuck’s sake. What bullshit.

  Trained to react without fear or indecision, she slammed the vehicle into drive and peeled out of the parking space. So much for being a memory before someone reported the car stolen. Squealing tires and demon assassins aside, she was making quite the spectacle in the parking lot.

  She gunned the car toward the assassin, but Domiel didn’t flinch. At the last second, she wrenched the car aside and narrowly missed hitting him. His reflexes were faster than she’d imagined. He yanked the passenger door open and got his big body halfway inside before she had time to blink.

  She should have hit him head-on and not grown a conscience.

  “I don’t think so, rookie.” She floored the gas, and the heavy door hit him, smashing his hand in the process. He still didn’t let go, so she slammed on the brakes, the propulsion of the sudden stop throwing him off balance and tossing him against the concrete of the parking garage.

  “Still your fantasy girl, Domiel?” she taunted as she drove away, the car door slamming shut when she accelerated again. He’d heard her. Demons had excellent hearing.

  She needed to ditch the vehicle as soon as she left the airport grounds. In no time the police and a half-assed trained demon assassin would be after her, both aware of what type of car she’d stolen. Not that she hadn’t been in worse situations before, but short on time and nerves … yeah. She wasn’t about to let some newbie assassin get in her way.

  She made the last circle around the parking garage, fully alert for possible trouble. Domiel suddenly popped out from behind a cement beam, running toward the car to her left. A parking garage attendant stood outside of his station directly in front of her, a cordless phone in his hand. She couldn’t go right, because that would keep her in the parking garage. She couldn’t go left because the rookie was out to prove himself and would stop at nothing. No, she had to go straight.

  Better move, idiot, I’m coming through.

  White-knuckling the cold steering wheel, she ground the accelerator to the floor. The Hawaiian leis hanging from the rearview mirror flipped up and nearly hit the roof of the car.

  The human’s lack of reaction actually aided her. Instead of jumping on the car, Domiel used his superior speed to pull the attendant out of harm’s way as she splintered the red and white block that failed to do its job. Domiel and the paunchy security guard barely cleared two feet from the speeding car.

  How sweet. He’d played the Good Samaritan while allowing his hit to get away.

  Dumbass.

  Apparently airport security had been notified, since they pulled up on her ass with unusual quickness for rent-a-cops. Two white SUVs with flashing lights, a few humans in the front seat. Did they even carry weapons? Did she care?

  Not about to find out, she never lifted her foot from the accelerator as she wove in and out of traffic.

  So this is what it feels like to run from the Alliance. Luckily she’d been trained just as well, if not better, than those who would be sent after her. Domiel would overthink every action, and the foreign adrenaline rush would cause him to make mistakes. She’d been an assassin for centuries. Her game was solid, no matter what Ambrose thought.

  She deliberately steered her car down the wrong overpass to get out of the airport, and fifty yards onto the curved concrete bridge she turned on a dime, skidding the back tires until she faced those pursuing her, a white cloud of burnt rubber in her rearview mirror. A corner of her lip tilted up as she revved the engine of the tiny POS car.

  This felt good. Too good.

  Back on the gas, she passed by their pathetic roadblock with a few swift jerks of the wheel. A quick glance in her rearview mirror showed them faltering to begin the arduous task of turning their SUVs around.

  Running a few red lights, she tore out of the airport before she saw their headlights, but not before she saw another vehicle peel out of the shadows.

  Damn. She didn’t know he could drive. He’d just fallen from grace a few months ago, and she hadn’t been aware he’d taken his defensive driving lessons yet. The question was, had he passed, or had he merely made use of the backseat with one of his whores? With a smile on her face, she adjusted the rearview mirror. “Let’s see what you got, rookie.”

  When his stolen ride pulled insane speeds and shot car-lengths closer in mere seconds, she realized her first mistake—underestimating him. Her smile faded as she noted the bastard had stolen a damn fine vehicle with flames licking the hood. She’d chosen a nondescript car in the hopes of blending in.

  He flew up on her ass before she could find a side road to turn off. She could hear sirens in the distance, mocking her. If Domiel didn’t catch her, someone would, and that was entirely unacceptable. The situation had gone from bad to intolerable. How the hell could she outmaneuver whatever-the-fuck he was driving in a Corolla?

  When he bumped her from behind, her steering wheel vibrated from the impact. Her fangs elongated in self-preservation, her animalistic side surfacing, her blood pumping. She laughed out loud, and though she sounded a tad crazy even to herself, she figured what the hell. God, she’d missed this. The action. The suspense. Too bad she didn’t have her flamethrower with her.

  She made the first right she came to and nearly tipped the car in the process as she wrenched the wheel, hand over hand. No doubt Domiel left black skid marks on the concrete when he mimicked her turn, his back tires smoking. As she gunned it into the darkened streets ahead, houses began popping up. Wooden jungle gyms with swings and slides, manicured lawns, and cute little houses that would inspire Thomas Kincaid made her sweat.

  Just when she was enjoying the car chase, she’d driven right into a suburb.

  His headlights gleamed behind her as though she were tied down on wooden planks and a train ate up the tracks at full speed.

  She didn’t do damsel in distress.

  Kelsey deliberately turned her car toward a giant oak tree. Five seconds before collision she opened her door and launched herself out of the vehicle. She rolled with the impact and sprang to her feet in seconds, the deafening sound of the crash behind her, a memory she wished were never made.

  The squeal of brakes prompted her to push herself harder and run faster, her tired body screaming in protest. Damn Jade and her training. The sound of a magazine being snapped into place wasn’t a good sign. Will he have the balls to shoot me?

  When a bullet whizzed by her leg, she had her answer.

  * * * *

  It took everything Ambrose had not to come out of his chair and show Alexia and Jade exactly why he was leader of the Alliance. Both knew he could read their thoughts, and both were concentrated on the same song, singing it over and over again in their minds.

  “Quit with your rendition of ‘Smooth Criminal’ and answer me. Kelsey hijacked one of our jets, so we know she’s in Paris, Alexia.” Alexia sat before him, her gaze on the wall behind his chair, just over his right shoulder. Her bright blue eyes were full of mischief, insolence, and anger. He could surpass her in the latter. “I know you spoke with her. Domiel is two br
eaths away from catching her. What did you tell her?”

  Nothing but the King of Pop in their minds.

  Hold your temper. “Innocent demons in Paris are committing suicide. No demon in their right mind would do that. Their souls go straight to the Pit. Witnesses say the demons seem to be in a trance when beheading themselves. Do you have any idea how hard it is to cut off your own fucking head? Forget for a moment that Kelsey is your friend, and remember why you fight. To keep innocents safe.”

  Alexia started tapping her foot to the beat in her head. Jade showed no sign that she’d even heard him.

  His temper threatened to snap. He caught sight of his reflection in the mirror mounted on the wall opposite his desk. His light blue eyes had gone completely white. No pupils whatsoever. He looked every bit the fallen angel slash vampire, and the two women sitting before him were completely daft to believe he wouldn’t use his powers to knock the damned smirks off their faces.

  Didn’t they realize that he loved Kelsey like a daughter? All three assassins had wormed their way into his heart, but especially Kelsey. She’d never told him—nor anyone, for that matter—of what she went through right before she’d been turned. But he knew. He’d known for years. No one should have to go through what she had. After she’d been kidnapped last year, he’d personally ripped apart every foundation in Paris looking for her.

  Kelsey had shut him out for the last few months, but he refused to let Alexia and Jade shut him out now.

  “Jade, you forget that I can still put your ass on probation. I DVR’d that episode of COPS you were featured on.”

  When Jade’s lips twitched in what he believed to be amusement, he lost it. “You’re both out. Out! Do you understand me? Until we find Kelsey, and I can be sure you’re not communicating with her, you’ll remain under lock and key. The second this is over, you’ll be packing your things and leaving.”