Page 58 of Priest

“We’re not going to let him fall apart,” Priest vowed. He lifted Oliver’s hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to his palm. Just as he pulled back, he stiffened, and Oliver felt something shift in the air.

The Angel was there, and his powerwasstronger.

“I feel it,” he whispered before Priest could announce Azriel’s arrival.

Priest nodded, then stepped back, though he kept Oliver’s fingers in his tight grasp. “We should go. Storm and Slate have finished their survey of the land. We’re moving at moonrise.”

Oliver felt a rush of anxiety and fear, mostly about whether or not he would be capable. But this was Poe’s life on the line, and he wasn’t going to let him down.

He would save him, even if he died trying.

If Oliver wasn’t so terrified, the whole thing might have felt like an action movie. He was outfitted in dark earth tones—mossy green pants, boots to match, and a mottled brown, green, and black Lycra shirt that clung to his skin and reached just past his wrists. He was given gloves that were not the best fit and a dark beanie to pull over his hair.

He felt ridiculous, like someone playing pretend, especially as he watched the Alphas get ready. They had weapons on them, though Jeremiah had given strict orders not to use them unless it was absolutely necessary. They looked at home in their gear, not like Oliver, who was just a man playing dress-up.

But then Priest looked at him, and he could feel waves of lust pouring off his Demon.

“Not now,” Oliver murmured.

Azriel stood beside him wearing dark pants and a matching shirt without holes in either, more clothes than Oliver had ever seen covering his skin. The Angel laughed and rolled his eyes. “Don’t bother. We can all feel it, darling.”

Priest was unrepentant. He crossed the room and stood behind Oliver, arms wrapped around his middle as Jeremiah took his place in front of them. The room was full—Dragons, Gargoyles, another Hellhound whose name Oliver hadn’t beengiven. There were Demon species Oliver didn’t recognize and two other Vampires.

The Bravo and Charlie Teams, Priest had said when Oliver realized more than just Azriel had been called in for aid.

“Everyone has been briefed,” Jeremiah began, pacing a small line in front of everyone. “You all have your orders. This is a rescue mission, but it’s also a capture mission. Priority one is the humans, priority two is gathering information. We’re also on the lookout for a Nephilim. I don’t know for sure he’s here, but I know he’ll be difficult to sense.”

“Not for me,” Azriel said. “I’ll know the moment we get close enough.”

Jeremiah nodded. “This cannot go more than sixty minutes, at most. We’ve been given raid rights by the Sirens to conduct this mission, but we’re under a firm request to keep this from going public. This cannot be a bloodbath.”

Everyone nodded along.

Jeremiah rolled his shoulders back, and then he partially shifted, and Oliver sucked in a breath as he was hit with a wave of heat from his Hellfire. He’d never seen a Hellhound in their true form before. “Bravo Team, your job is to secure every human you find. Sound the alarm if there are traps, and make sure every room is thoroughly searched. From the information we have, thanks to Knight, we know that it’s likely whoever is running this lab will give the order to abandon ship. It means we’ll have seconds to gather information from their computers before they’re wiped. It’s likely not enough time, but if we can get even one of their people under our control, we can interrogate them.”

There were several muttered agreements. It was almost military, minus the “yes, sirs” that Oliver half expected to hear. But he could tell they all respected Jeremiah. They were all ready to follow him into any battle he found worthy.

“Alpha Team Two, roll out. Send the signal when it’s time to move,” Jeremiah ordered. Storm and Slate turned on their heels and left. “Bravo, Charlie, follow behind them. No more than a thirty-second delay.”

Priest released Oliver, and he turned to see his lover almost fully in Demon form. His eyes were black, fangs poking out from behind his lips, horns stretching high. Oliver might have gone hot all over if it weren’t for the fact that this could very well be the last time they’d see each other.

“Do we drive?” Oliver asked unsteadily.

Priest shook his head. “No.” His voice was now a low, rough, sensual rumble. “You and Azriel will be teleporting. Bravo Team has vans to transport the humans.”

“And you?”

Priest rolled his shoulders, and Oliver somehow knew right then that he had wings. Maybe something he should have assumed, but he’d never seen them. “I’ll fly. And I will see you there.”

His clawed hand took Oliver by the chin, gently pricking him but not drawing blood. His forked tongue teased his lips before Oliver let him in, the kiss drawing power from him.

He could feel the transfer, feel the bond between them growing.

Gods, he needed this to be over so he could properly have Priest again.

“Soon, beloved,” Priest rumbled.

Oliver reached up and touched his horns as their foreheads dropped together. “Promise me you’ll be safe.”

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