Page 52 of The River of Hatred

“What the fuck?” I explode.

“Language,” Itha rumbles, observing our conversation with interest in his pearlescent gray eyes.

“Oh, shut it, pigeon boy.” I lightly punch his arm. “For days, our girl was under the impression that I didn’t want her with us, that deserves an f-bomb or two.” Crawling over the angel, I push Jess onto her back and drop down on top of her as she squeals. “I meant he’s not going to be staying in Abaddon with those stuffy pricks becauseyou’renot going to be staying in Abaddon with those stuffy pricks.”

“What do you mean?” she asks innocently.

“I mean that you’ll both be staying with me, in my villa in Uncle Asmo’s territory by the Lethe, of course,” I say as if it should have been obvious to her. Thinking back, I could’ve maybe elaborated sooner.

“We are?” Her lower lip trembles enticingly.

I lower my lips to the side of her neck and lick a path up to her ear. “You are,” I whisper into it. “I have no intention of going days without fucking you.”

At that moment, her stomach rumbles loudly, and my shoulders drop. “Except for right now,” I grumble, pushing back and onto my feet, my hard cock bobbing inside my boxer briefs.

You’re gonna have to wait, boy. Our woman’s hungry.

I eye Itha as I pull on my black jeans and button down – exchange the jeans for slacks and I’ll be looking just like Ash. The angel’s been even quieter than usual. I know he can’t be over the fact that he’ll no longer be welcomed in Heaven. After I lost sight of my reasons for leaving him behind, I spent centuries resenting him for not finding me. But now I’m fully committed to not letting anything or anyone hurt him – even himself. He’s going to implode one of these days and I’ll be here to hold him together when he does.

“I’ll get you brunch and an extra-large coffee, my queen.” I bow to the grinning mortal, then I scoff internally; I had grand plans to have them under my thumb, and here I am, her ready and willing golden retriever.

“We should meet at the port,” Itha says, obviously done with whatever meditation he was doing, attested by him following my lead and getting out of bed. He’s wearing a pair of my sweatpants and a long black tee. I look at his crotch and bite my lower lip. There’s just something about a dick in gray sweatpants that Hell’s fashion police hasn’t gotten the memo of yet.

“Right,” Jess sighs, bouncing to the bed’s edge. I took the apartment with the biggest bed I could find so we could all rest together. I have no intention of letting either of them sleep (or meditate) alone ever again.

“I guess we should get this mission over with so you can take us to your villa and screw our brains out,” she purrs while stretching, her pebbled nipples standing in relief against the thin T-shirt she’s wearing.

A growl resonates from deep within my chest. Curse these meddling mortals and their nefarious plans. All I want to do is teach the two a lesson about teasing me with their unassumingly sexy clothing.

∞∞∞

I sip on my Frappuccino, Itha shooting me a glare every time the straw makes slurping sounds.

“What?” I mouth after the tenth time. It’s not like the mortals can hear us from this distance, and if they could, the slurping wouldn’t be what got us in trouble. After all, Jess and I played a game of ‘who’s their daddy’ the night before last, wondering where in their ancestry the mortals in the warehouse below have demon blood.

“They could have demonic allies with them,” Itha hisses.

Jess shakes her head. “Not without us sensing it, hon.”

“We could be mistaken at this distance,” he doubles down.

I step behind him and rest my chin on his shoulder. “You’re right,” I concede. “I’ll be more careful. I’m just bored shitless looking at these idiots watching old sitcom reruns and drinking beer.”

The corner of my lip tips up when I see my breath stirring goosebumps on Ithuriel’s pristine skin. The boy has it bad for me.

Jessica snorts delicately. “It does seem kind of pointless. It’s like a high school AV club gone bald.”

I bite my fist to hold the laughter in and feel Itha’s sigh as it lifts and lowers his chest. We’re on the roof of the cultist’s warehouse, looking in though the worn skylights, and while they can’t hear hushed conversations, my laughing would probably raise some alarms.

“Ooh, we have movement,” Jess says, raising her binoculars to her eyes. The downside of not being a full-blown Celestial, she can’t see or hear the miscreants as well as we do. “Looks like they’re dragging someone in. A guy.”

I stand next to her and look at the commotion far below. She’s right; the thugs are dragging in a young man, kicking and screaming.

“Look what we have here, boys,” I murmur, translating for Jessica’s sake. “Where’d you find that fag?” I continue. “I thought I’d seen him following us around. We grabbed him outside.”

Jessica whines lowly. “What if he’s just some innocent boy?”

“No.” Itha shakes his head. “Don’t you sense it? He’s a Nephalem.”

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