Atroyel, p.3
Atroyel, page 3
That’s my beauty. As expected, Cass took over. “Troy tells us you’re familiar with the concept of Bardo and the afterlife.” He waits until Lea gives him a slow nod. My woman is cautious. She’s not threatened, but she’s on full alert.
“When Troy, as you call him, died, his soul ascended to Bardo for processing. Although he’s an angel, he’d ascended through a mortal vessel, so he had to be cleared before he could return home. Any questions?” Cass raises an eyebrow at her. She looks steadily back at him while she takes a sip of her tea.
“Not so far.” Oh, she has questions all right, but I know my Lea. She doesn’t have enough information to start her cross-examination.
“Problem is, Troy’s spirit, his essence, is still attached to yours, so he feels the depth of your misery and refuses to ascend. The gods called us forth to talk some sense into the asshole.” Cass starts spinning the misdirection, shielding our real purpose, to protect Aleah while finding the key to undo Syrael’s curse. Lord Syrael had buried a strand of dark ether deep within Aleah’s soul. That strand will lead him to her. With the use of powers I hadn’t known I had, I’d woven protections around the dark ether, immobilizing it. Lea’s exceptional willpower had done the rest. As expected, her face becomes a study in concern.
“We’d calmed him down. Then something happened this week that troubled you. So asshole that he is, he almost tore apart the processing center trying to get back to you.”
I give Cass a glare that he pointedly ignores and plant my thought in his head. Enough with the asshole, asshole.
If the shoe fits, he replies. My asshole brother continues. “He can thank his damnable good luck that the queen of the gods has a soft spot for him.”
“Women always do,” Aleah murmurs. Aha, even in the afterlife, she remains under the allusion that I’m all that and more to women. She refused to believe me the numerous times I told her otherwise.
“Yeah, but he never knew it. He only ever had eyes for you,” Tristan says.
“Why would the gods call you to come to his rescue?” Aleah focuses on Cass.
“We’re his brothers,” Cass says.
“We’re triplets.” Tristan puts on his helpful face. He points at Cass. “He’s firstborn. Troy’s second, and I’m the runt of the litter.”
“So, you’re all angels?” Aleah asks.
Cass nods.
“Go on,” Aleah says.
“Long story short, Troy talked his way into coming to Earth to find out what’s bothering you and to help you to accept his death. He refused to take the time to finish the processing to release his mortally bound spirit, so his spirit remains incorporeal. They sent us as his anchors. As angels, we’re able to bring his spirit through the portal and hold him here.” Cass reaches over, plucks a strawberry from my Lea’s tray, and pops it into his mouth.
By this time, Aleah’s making her way through a warm croissant with orange marmalade spread over it. “I’m a little hazy on all this angel stuff. Help me understand why you think you’re angels.” Despite her attempt to keep her tone neutral, her skepticism leaks through.
Tristan takes the bait and leaps up. “Babe, we don’t think we’re angels. We are angels.” With that, he steps into a clear space in the large room and unfurls his enormous wings.
I watch her with a fascination I never lost as her eyes widen, just a little. The only sign of surprise she shows. In a succession of quick movements, she shifts the tray off her lap, throws off the blankets, and walks over to Tristan. She circles him slowly, bending from time to time as she tries to figure out whether it’s some kind of trick.
“Now, put them away.” She gives her command a second thought because a beat later, she says, “Please.”
“Happy to oblige, ma’am.” Tristan bows his head and retracts his wings. He waits until she circles him once more and stands in front of him, and then he ejects them again. “Want to feel them?”
Bastard. Only he can make asking what should be an innocent question suggestive of a sexual act. She doesn’t answer. She reaches up and brushes her fingers over them. Then she takes one of the feathers, running her thumb and index finger from shaft to tip. With another, she gives a quick tug.
“Careful,” Tristan says, “you’ll get me all turned on.”
Aleah snatches her hand away as if he touched a blowtorch to it. “Sorry.” She takes several quick steps back. I want so much to hold her as she turns things over in her mind.
“Let’s assume I believe you’re angels.” She frowns as Tristan grins at her. “And the jury is still out on that.” She presses those gorgeous full lips together as she tosses around her next question. “Is Troy here?”
“Yes. He’s lounging on your bed, looking longingly at your body right now,” Cass says.
Aleah tries not to look pleased. “What do we have to do so I can see him, talk to him?”
Oh, I wish I could kiss her. Instead, I need to focus on the other million reasons I love her so I can keep my mind off my damned cock. She has no time for the trivial details and blasts right through to what she needs to know. Cass gives her a veiled look, but I know she’s caught his interest, something that’s very hard to do. He’d had brotherly affection for her as a child in the forest. Now it’s as if he’s sniffed her scent and it calls to him.
“That’s two different questions,” Cass says. Aleah gives him her best fuck-you look.
“You can talk to him right now. He can hear you, and we can hear him. So, say what you have to say, and we’ll tell you what he says.” Cass gives her a grin that reminds me of a hunter sighting prey. “And while you can’t exactly see him, you can feel him if he possesses one of our bodies. As you can see, our bodies are almost exact replicas.”
“Or you will see if given a chance.” Tristan gives her a wicked wink. “Cass is right. If you want to fuck him, he has to possess one of our bodies just like he did yours, but there’s a condition.” Tristan gives her a look that says the price will be steep.
5
ALEAH
“Can I have a freebie, a trial run?” I feverishly search for ways to be with Troy that won’t involve having sex with one of these men. I’m attracted to them, but I can look without touching. I don’t do casual sex, I don’t do the multiples thing, and I especially don’t do brothers. Troy and I explored the emotional ramifications of expanding our sexual horizons at length in our Double Diary.
One thing I pride myself on is my self-awareness, and I knew the moment I laid eyes on these two that I’d jump their bones in nine-tenths of a second. And now there’s an added complication, they’re Troy’s brothers, for Sully’s sake.
“What does that mean, a freebie?” Cass asks. Already, I can see I’m not going to get much past him. Tristan, on the other hand, has the same devilish side as Troy without the cautious side. I bet he’d try anything. All I have to do is figure out whether I want to pay the price.
I give Cass the look I give reluctant interviewees. “It means I’d like you to show me how this works without activating this condition, whatever it is.”
Each of them has a version of a wolfish grin that tells me neither one falls for my innocent act.
“I’ll do it for a kiss, but it has to be a duplicate of whatever kiss you give Troy,” Tristan says. “You are beautiful.” He looks me up and down, taking in my casual clothes.
The burning heat on the tips of my ears is the only way you can tell I’m blushing, and those words coming from that smoky voice set them on fire. Angel or not, the man must need his eyes examined. My body is on the smallish side, although the roundness of middle age in all the wrong places gives me a curvier look I never had in my youth. I could give him a list of faults with my body, but he seems oblivious to all that as he takes in my small breasts, big butt, and tawny skin.
I try not to lick my lips as I consider his proposal, but I have too many questions not to give this freebie a try. “Okay, but one kiss and one kiss only.” I look at him pointedly. The bastard winks back at me.
Moments later, warm chocolate-brown eyes shimmering with an eerie light beam back at me instead of blue ones. Troy! I shut my eyes and let the aroma of his fresh male scent wash over me. He cups my cheeks and tips my head back. I know he’s taking that moment to study me while he bends his knees to lower himself to my height. My Troy is thoughtful like that. Putting my sexual needs first is one of his great strengths . . . and greatest weakness. I pull myself out of that rabbit hole. I will not miss one second of this moment.
“Troy.“ I let his name escape on the smallest of breaths, afraid that any movement will make this vision disappear. “Is it really you?”
“You tell me.” His soft, full lips meet mine, and I almost expire with need. For the first time since he died, emotion trickles past the state of shock I’ve been in. I’ve missed this man and his wicked ways so much.
The instant our lips meet, he starts to tell me what I need to know. How much he’s missed me. Taking his time, he explores my lips before deepening the kiss, letting his tongue tease and torment me. He lets me know the depth of his everlasting love, demanding there be nothing else between us. I push aside my grief. I forgot all about the agreement with Tristan. I don’t hold back when I answer. I wrap my arms around his neck as I drink from the well of his love. Only a lack of oxygen breaks us apart. He touches his forehead to mine.
“Gods, how I’ve missed you,” he breathes.
We stay that way, unmoving, as oxygen makes my brain cells start firing again. If I kiss him any longer, I’ll tear his clothes off. The hunger in his eyes tells me he’ll do the same thing. Now is not the time to go there. But he’s here, with me. A ghost is inhabiting an angel’s body. Where the fuck does one go from here? My mind races, and seconds later, words tumble out like rapid fire from a submachine gun. I try to drink in those eyes as my rational mind puts the brakes on my treacherous libido.
“Where did you go? What’s it like?” I narrow my eyes. “And what took you so long to visit me in my dreams? I told you there was an afterlife.”
He gives that chuckle reserved just for me. “Babe, if you’re going to use our time having an I-told-you-so moment, let’s at least get comfortable.” Taking my hand, he pulls me to a chair he sits in before pulling me onto his lap.
I narrow my eyes at him again as I remember what it was like when he possessed me last night. “Are you going to pass out? How long do we have?” I press back the panic as I remember that I don’t know the supernatural’s rules. “Why are you here?” I ask when everything in me screams against asking. If he tells me, we’ll find a solution, and then he’ll have to go. Because solving problems is kind of my superpower, and I believe the angels that Troy’s spirit is stuck to me. I know with absolute certainty that I’m the only tie strong enough to bind Troy’s free spirit.
“I won’t lie to you, beauty. I’m not sure how much time we have before Tristan’s body needs recharging. I suspect it’s a lot longer than we had, given his angel physiology and our genetic link.” He holds my face, and it’s Troy’s warm brown eyes that I see. “But your instincts are right on.” His pride filters through me like pixie dust. “Every minute I’m in Tristan’s body, I’m sapping his essence. We’ve probably got ten or fifteen minutes. As to why I’m here.” He pauses a moment, and his gaze focuses on some distant thought. The look is so intense I can’t help it—I turn my head. I wouldn’t have been shocked to see a portal open to another universe. Instead, I look into the strange glow coming from Cass’s golden eyes and catch a glimpse of the portal into my future—one that includes Cass.
For several intense seconds, I can’t move. I’m not sure I breathe. This magic stuff is just too fucking weird. I swing my gaze back to Troy.
“It’s a lot to take in, I know. For several reasons we can get into later, I don’t have all the answers to why we’re here. One thing I do know for sure is that you’re in some kind of mortal danger, and we’re here to save you. Of that, I’m certain.” A strange, intense light seems to illuminate Troy’s brown eyes.
I almost drown in the sense of déjà vu that hits, a moment just like one we’d lived before. A moment when we knew we were on the crest of something big, something life-changing coupled with that sense of fatality that confirms we’re where we’re destined to be. The first time I’d felt it was twenty years ago when Troy finally declared his love for me. We’d lived together for five years as friends with benefits when the big moment came, and it was anticlimactic. Now, the same man asked me to suspend belief in all that we knew to be logical in favor of a supernatural he’d always scoffed at. I should scoff right back at him, but instead, I want to give a fist pump for the confirmation of something I’d believed all along.
6
TRISTAN
“You’re in mortal danger, and we’re here to save you.”
I watch this woman intently as Troy makes his pronouncement. It’s fascinating how much a part of him I am as he possesses this vessel called a body. I stare into warm brown eyes, eyes sharp with intelligence, eyes through which every thought passed like frames from a movie. Her irises are like fine brandy with shards of black that spray like rays from her pupils. The finger of her mind hovers over the remote as she decides whether she’ll settle on tragedy or happily ever after.
“How long before I have to let you go?” Sorrow flashes through Aleah’s dread-filled eyes as she pulls back and studies my face . . . or does she see his face? Such finality rests there as if happily ever after is beyond her reach. Now that Troy’s taken over my body, I feel the deep bond between the two of them, the depth of her pain. I itch with the need to grab her, hold her, show her there’s no need to despair. But we’re a long way from that moment.
“I don’t know, beauty. This is all new to me, too. There’s so much to tell you, I don’t know where to start,” Troy says. The two of them make more goo-goo eyes at each other.
My deltoid starts to burn. An angel mating brand. That thought pops into my mind out of nowhere. It’s wishful thinking, but I take a moment to coast on that happy thought. Angel mating brands, marks binding angels’ souls, rarely happen, although legend suggests it’s more common among angel sex lords. Perhaps our promotion to sex lords makes us susceptible to this ultimate love magic.
It was more than filaments of energy that flew between us the moment I touched Aleah; it was the certainty we belong together. Not just as friends and protectors as we’d been all those years ago in the forest. Last night, I’d held my sex lord physiology responsible for the intense lust that passed between us the instant I laid eyes on her. That was undoubtedly part of it, but now I know something else entirely happened. Something that just added a layer of complication we don’t need . . . but I welcome. To confirm my theory, I need to see whether Aleah has a brand. I try to give my moon-gazing brother a kick in the ass.
Let’s move things along, Troy. I’m dying in here. I use our telepathic link, making my impatience clear.
Fuck off, Trist. I’ll take the time I want. Our Troy is one stubborn and somewhat selfish bugger. At least he doesn’t pass me off as a pretty boy with no brains, a cross I have to bear in silence.
And find out what’s causing the pain in my deltoid.
My facial muscles move into a grimace. Troy feels it, too.
“Babe?” Aleah’s large oval-shaped eyes widen with concern. “You okay?” She rubs her left deltoid as she speaks.
“I’m okay, but what about you? Why are you holding your arm? Let’s have a look.” Troy rolls the sleeve of her T-shirt, exposing the tattoo on her delt, an intricate black rose with a faint red triangle shimmering behind it.
Aleah grabs her biceps and twists her shoulder to examine it. Troy traces the red triangle. “When did you get that? And why?”
“I didn’t get that.” Aleah frowns. “It just appeared, and it sure as hell feels like a fresh tattoo, only worse. It burns like hell.” She frowns again. “Did you guys do something to me while I was sleeping?”
“Of course not, beauty. Why do you always think the worst? You know I’d never do something like that without your consent.” Troy says this with absolute conviction. “What kind of burning?”
She studies him for a moment. I can almost feel her mental eye roll, but she decides not to take the bait. “It’s like when the tattoo artist used that tiny needle to outline the rose. It burned as if he was searing the flesh, which upon reflection, he probably was. But how did it get here?”
“I have a faint burning pain in the same place, but I don’t know if it’s my arm or Tristan’s I’m feeling.
Suddenly, they both dive for my polo shirt. Aleah makes short work of the two buttons and slides one side over my shoulder. However, there’s nothing to see, but both of them stare at my shoulder as if looking for some microscopic fungus.
“This is urgent, beauty. You’re in danger. I know from having been inside you—”
“Seriously, Troy. You’re going to talk about sex now?” Humor shines from Aleah’s eyes despite her scolding tone.
“Even after all these months, that’s your first go-to?” Troy puts on his best self-righteous tone. “I know from having taken possession of your body last night that you have a healthy degree of skepticism about being in danger. Have you ever known me to exaggerate about anything serious?”
She shakes her head slowly.
“Right. I’m dead serious about this. And it would take something major to have me leave the comfort of the blissful afterlife to come back to this existence, would you agree?” Troy asks.
Ouch! A wince flashes over Aleah’s perfect features, and the realization hits me. This woman may not be perfect, but she’s perfect for me . . . And I want more than to be her friend.
She nods, but she doesn’t look happy.
Troy gives his short now-we’re-getting-somewhere nod. “You’re in danger. I need you to stay here with my brothers until we figure this out. Give me your word, and we can take it from there.” Troy’s grip tightens on Aleah’s arms, but my body’s losing strength.
