Page 25 of Camael
The kiss was shorter than their first but carried just as much heat. When they broke apart, Rami was pointedly studying the ceiling while trying to hide a grin. "If you two are done with the celebration, we should probably help theothers," he suggested. "Unless you want to explain to Michael why we let the Garden District get redecorated in Early American Hellscape."
Outside, the sounds of battle were already fading as the demons retreated. Without Lucifer’s power to draw from, they were falling back to whatever holes they'd crawled out of. Camael kept his arm around Amelia as they climbed the basement stairs.
The mansion's elegant interior was a mess of supernatural combat damage. Izzy and the other Dark Warriors approached Rami and began discussing the repairs they would help with. New Orleans' spiritual foundation was secure. For now.
This was just the beginning. Lucifer wouldn't stop until he achieved his goals or they put him down for good. The real war was still coming. He looked down at the female in his arms. This witch had stopped the Prince of Lies and somehow worked her way past every defense Camael had built. She met his gaze with that fierce determination that had drawn him from the start.
Yeah, the real war was coming. But for the first time in his endless existence, Camael was actually looking forward to it. Because this time? This time, he wasn't just fighting for Heaven or duty. This time, he was fighting for her.
CHAPTER 8
Amelia stared into her coffee cup like it might hold answers to the universe's biggest questions. The mansion's kitchen was quiet this early. Most of the angels were still doing their pre-dawn patrols or repair work in the French Quarter. Last night's victory over Lucifer's corruption should have left her feeling triumphant. Instead, her nerves were doing the supernatural equivalent of break dancing. Something was off, and she couldn't put her finger on it. It tickled at her magical senses like an itch she couldn't scratch.
"You're thinking too hard." Camael's deep voice rolled through the kitchen like thunder as he entered. The archangel moved with that lethal grace that did things to her concentration. His black t-shirt stretched across shoulders built for war. Those ice-blue eyes of his saw straight through her bullshit.
Her cheeks heated when she thought about what they’d done before falling asleep last night. The angel was a sexual powerhouse. "Maybe not hard enough," she muttered as shereached for the coffee pot to keep from diving too deep into those memories.
Her hand froze halfway there as power slammed through her magical awareness like a freight train. The Key around her neck went from room temperature to nuclear in two seconds flat. "Fuck me running." The curse slipped out as her senses crawled. The ley lines beneath the city were lighting up her supernatural radar like the Fourth of July. It wasn't the brute force Lucifer used last night. This was something subtler. Sneakier.
Camael's wings manifested as he reached for her. His phone rang at the same time. Amelia saw Izzy's face on the screen before he answered on speaker phone. "Talk to me."
"We've got problems all over town, but the concentration seems to be in the Quarter." The vampire princess's voice carried the kind of urgency that meant someone was about to have a really bad day. "The Dark Warriors are encountering demons left and right who are carrying relics. And they're scurrying underground."
Well, shit. That explained the weird vibes Amelia was getting. Her witch senses weren't just being paranoid. They were picking up Lucifer's newest attempt at fucking with her city.
Rami materialized in the doorway like he'd been summoned by Izzy’s presence. His expression said he'd caught enough of the conversation to know they were about to have an interesting morning. "I'll alert the others."
"Do it on the way out." Camael's voice dropped to that place that made windows rattle. And her insides sit up and beg. "We move now. Whatever this is, we need to keep it from spreading."
The Angels of Retribution moved like a well-oiled machine as they headed for the mansion's east wing launch point. Camael issued rapid-fire orders while they moved. Hismassive frame led the charge through marble hallways that had seen more battle prep than some military bases.
"Jo, get eyes in the sky before we land. I want to know what we're walking into." His wings rustled with barely contained energy. "Mal, coordinate with Izzy's crew. Make sure the Dark Warriors know where to cover."
Rami's fingers flew over his phone as he kept pace, firing off texts faster than demon lords running from holy water. "The Dark Warriors who are capable of being out during the day are already moving into position," he reported without breaking stride. "Zander sent more men through the portal from Seattle. Izzy's got teams staged around Jackson Square and along most of the streets. The Rowan sisters are out to help keep things hidden as well."
They burst through the mansion's rear doors into the pre-dawn air. Wings snapped out in a display that made Amelia’s breath catch. The angels launched skyward in perfect formation. Amelia was in awe of their ability to cloak themselves without more than a thought as they headed for the Quarter. She would kill to be that powerful.
They hit the French Quarter like Heaven's most elite strike force had a grudge against evil. The morning sun painted Jackson Square in shades of gold. The early hour didn’t stop the tourists. They were already out in force. They were snapping photos of the Cathedral while completely oblivious to the supernatural throwdown about to go down. Amelia began casting aversion spells so the humans didn’t pay the supernaturals any attention.
Izzy waited for them beneath the sheltering overhang of Cafe Envie. She was smart enough to keep her vampire ass out of the strengthening sunlight. The female was all lethal grace and royal bearing as she emerged from the shadows. Her father's sapphire eyes missed nothing as she took in their battle-ready crew.
"About time you showed up," she drawled. Her fangs flashed as she lifted one corner of her mouth in disgust and gestured to a nearby storm drain. "The energy coming from down there isn’t much right now. However, there is something making my vampire senses do the cha-cha."
Taking a position that kept her safely in the shade, she continued, "Luke tried mapping it magically, but something's cock-blocking his tracking spells. Whatever's down there doesn't want to be found."
"While you guys tackle the streets, I'm going to head underground to do some recon," she continued as she checked her weapons. "There’s less chance of becoming an extra crispy vampire, and I can try to find what’s niggling at me. I'll keep in touch through Rami."
“Be careful, Cupcake,” Rami told her with a fond smile.
She rolled her eyes, but returned the smile. Her movements were pure predator as she adjusted her leather jacket. The thing probably cost more than some cars. From what was known about the princess, she was deadly gorgeous with a side of designer labels. Most assumed she got that from her mother and had been surprised to hear it came from her aunt.
After Izzy left, they swept through the French Quarter's historic streets. Amelia's boots clicked against centuries-old cobblestones while magic crackled around her hands. The Key at her throat pulsed with each step. The signal was scattered. It was like trying to find a radio station during a supernatural thunderstorm.
"Anything?" Camael's deep voice rolled through the air as they checked another block. The archangel moved like violence waiting for an excuse to happen. Those ice-blue eyes of his never stopped scanning for threats.
"It's like trying to track smoke," she muttered. She couldn't tamp down her frustration as they passed Lafitte's.The ancient bar's walls held more history than some countries. Right now, she didn't give a shit about the tourist attraction. "The energy's everywhere and nowhere."
After another half hour of grid searching that got them jack shit with a side of squat, Amelia had enough. She stopped dead in the middle of Governor Nicholls Street. Ignoring the curious looks from tourists nursing their go-cup hurricanes, she tugged the Key from beneath her top and cast another aversion spell.
