“Watch it,” he admonished, as if lightning might strike her in the enclosed space. Eve wouldn’t be surprised. The Lord had yet to do her any favors.
They stepped into the stairwell. Warm, stagnant air rushed around them, in stark contrast to the cooler air-conditioning of the occupied areas. The heavy metal door thudded shut and images of Reed flooded her mind. He’d branded her with the Mark of Cain in the stairwell of Gadara Tower, a raw and violent coupling that would forever be burned in her memory.
If you don’t stop thinking about that, Alec warned roughly, I’ll replace that memory with another one. Right now.
She blanked her mind quickly.
The Alec she had once known would never have made such a threat. Seduce her, yes. Make love to her until she couldn’t move or think, yes. But primal fucking was Reed’s style. Alec had been a lover. Eve didn’t know how to deal with the new version of him. He was more aggressive, less patient. More like the biblical Cain, she supposed. The side of him she had never seen. She knew she would enjoy whatever he did to her—he wouldn’t tolerate otherwise—but she couldn’t risk sinking deeper. She was already neck- deep as it was.
The roof door opened above them.
“Pretty Mark came back’ a tengu singsonged, followed by a frenzied thumping as it jumped for joy. “And Cain, too. Time to play.”
Tengu were mischievous creatures. They lacked initiative and ambition, so they fell pretty low on the “must-vanquish” scale. Reed likened them to mosquitoes—annoying and you wished they didn’t exist, but not as disgusting as rats. They infiltrated establishments as decorations, then worked to cause distress and anxiety in the inhabitants. Buildings with tengu had higher suicide rates than those that didn’t. Higher rates of business failures, extortion, eviction, embezzlement, and adultery. Tengu infestation was the cause of community decline, dead malls, and ghost towns. In packs, they could be deadly, or at the very least, seriously destructive.
The door slammed shut and a riotous banging resounded on the roof, the sound of little stone feet dancing. Lots of feet. Lots of dancing.
“Damn, you’re good,” Alec said.
Eve sighed. Sometimes, she hated being right.
CHAPTER 4
“What are you doing, mon chéri?”
Reed stiffened at the sound of the familiar purring voice. Glancing over his shoulder, he met the calculated gaze of Sarakiel, one of the seven earthbound archangels. She walked into Cain’s office as if she owned it.
“That’s none of your business,” he drawled.
“I hear Cain has returned to the field with Evangeline. Perhaps that is why you are rummaging through his office? ‘While the cat is away. . .‘ as they say.”
The manner in which Sara said Eve’s name spoke volumes. She still coveted Reed, even though they had split ages before Eve was born. The head of the European firm of Marks was often assumed by theologians to be a male. Their mistake was laughable. Sarakiel was a woman in every sense of the word, one who shared his penchant for rough sex and designer clothing.
He pushed the top drawer of Cain’s filing cabinet shut. The archangels usually stayed within their own territory. They didn’t like to defer to each other, which was expected when entering another firm’s boundaries. It was also dangerous to have archangels in close proximity to one another. Infernals would love to cripple multiple firms with a single blow. But Sara was here because she had requested to assist Cain with his assumption of Raguel’s firm. She’d been given her desire because it was her personal guards who had assisted Cain and Eve in Upland. She was lauded for being proactive, when the only reason she’d lent her team was because Reed had paid her with the use of his body. Now, her mentor- ship of his brother kept her uncomfortably near his business.
“What do you want, Sara?”
“What do I always want when I see you?”
A ripple of disquiet moved through him. “Not today, darling. I have a headache.”
Her lips thinned at the blatant lie. Mal’akhs were impervious to mortal maladies. Still, the beauty of her features was unaffected by her anger. Tall, willowy yet fully curved, Sara was physically perfect in a way mortal women spent thousands of dollars to replicate. Her pale blonde hair and angelic features were so compelling, they were the impetus that funded her finn. Sara Kiel Cosmetics was a worldwide phenomenon, with sales inspired by the unequaled face of its owner. There had been a time when the mere sight of her could make Reed’s blood heat dangerously, but no longer. Now his focus was narrowed to one particular brunette.
Sara stepped farther into the room with her distinctive sashay, her red silk pantsuit whispering seductively as she approached. She reminded him of a tigress—golden, lithe, predatory. “You have a dreadful way of showing gratitude.”
“You haven’t done a damn thing for me, Sara, aside from the occasional orgasm.” Reed shrugged. “I can get that anywhere.”
“You used to only want them from me.”
“That was a long time ago.” Knowing that appearances spoke volumes to her, he sank into Cain’s large leather office chair and forced his frame to relax into the plush back.
“You want what he has,” she taunted, sinking into the visitor’s seat on the other side of the desk. A wave of her hand encompassed the entire room, a corner office that boasted two walls of windows, a private bathroom with closet and shower, and a glass and chrome desk with industrial styling. Leaning forward, she ran her fingertips over the silver picture frame that held a black and white photo of Evangeline. “You always have.”
“I want what I deserve, what I’ve proven myself capable of handling.”
“And Cain keeps getting it first.”
“That works in my favor. He always fucks things up and makes me look good.”
All of his life, Reed had been the one to follow the rules and surpass expectations. He was perfect, damn it. Perfect for advancement, perfect for heading a firm. It made no sense that his brother was the one promoted. Cain didn’t want responsibility of any kind and he’d been a nomad for too long. He had never learned to play well with others.
Sara pouted. “1 am trying to help you, and you are not giving me any credit. I sent Izzie here, did I not?”
“I’m supposed to thank you for that?” He had been indiscreet with the blonde and Eve had caught him at it. Now, every time she saw Izzie, the memory stung her and caused him to lose what little ground he gained in his attempts to win her.
“You should have stayed away from her.”
“You knew what would happen,” he bit out. “And you told Izzie to be around when it did”
“As a firm leader, it is my responsibility to prepare for every eventuality. There was a chance that desire for your brother’s lover would drive you elsewhere. I had to make accommodations for that event, just in case.” Her crimson-painted fingertips drummed atop the armrests. “Do you think I wanted Cain’s woman to affect you so strongly?”
Iselda Seiler had been one of Eve’s classmates. A woman whose Goth sensibilities were manifested in pale skin, kohl-rimmed eyes, and a fondness for purple lipstick. Izzie also had the distinction of having fucked Cain at some point in his past. One of thousands who’d serviced him over the centuries. His brother didn’t remember her, but Izzie didn’t care. She just wanted another go-round, both for the sex and because it was guaranteed to stir up trouble. She had lain in wait to sabotage Eve in any way she could, and she’d been ready and more than willing when Eve had pushed Reed too far to think clearly.
But why Sara would claim to want him in the same breath as she admitted sending another woman to service him made no sense.
“You’re a real piece of work,” he said. “I wonder, do you make Father proud?”
Sara gripped the ends of the chair arms with white- knuckled force, but her voice came with its customary whiskey smoothness. “You malign me without cause, mon chéri. You and I are two of a kind.”
“Except you’re an archangel, and I’m not.” There had been a time when he’d been foolish enough to hope that she might help him achieve his own firm. Then he realized that she would never see him as equal to her. He provided stud service and nothing more. “You could have helped me, but you didn’t.”
“Obviously Jehovah is in agreement with me, since he has yet to promote you.”
“Fuck you.”
“Finally, a crack in your composure.” Sara smiled. “Let me give you a tip: Evangeline is waiting for one of you to make the decision for her. She does not want to bear the responsibility of choosing one of you. With the right push, she will tumble from the tree like a ripe apple.”
The allusion to temptation wasn’t lost on him. Reed yawned, feigning boredom. “How would you know?”
“I am a woman. I know how women think.” When silence stretched out between them, she asked, “Are you snooping in here because of her or not?”
“I want to know what we’re doing about Raguel.”
“Nothing.”
“That’s what I thought.” What Eve thought, too, and it was niggling at her in a way that concerned him. When she focused on something, she was like a dog with a bone. She wouldn’t let it go. And he had his own reasons for feeling similarly about Raguel.
“It is best to move when the time is right,” Sara explained. “The seven firms are intact for the present. We can afford to move wisely and not rashly.”
“Bullshit.”
“What can we do, mon chéri? We have nothing with which to entice Sammael to start bargaining.”
“You’re not even trying.”
“Cain is.” Sara licked her lips. “Do you hope to win Evangeline’s favor by playing the hero? Is your brother one step ahead of you again?”
“You know, Sara,” he steepled his fingertips, “Cain isn’t the only one who’s accumulated favors over the years. If I wanted to, I could make your life far more difficult than it is.”