Page 52 of Soul Redeemed

“They can’t find me. If they do, I’m as good as dead.” Her gaze flicked from Xander, back to Zayne’s. “I’ve told you what you want to know. Now will you let me go?”

Zayne gave a quick glance toward Xander. “We’re going to keep you safe. We’ll help you.”

“Uh, ‘the fuck?” Xander’s stare damn near drilled a hole in the back of Zayne’s head. “Too much Abyzz messes with your head, my man. I ain’t helping shit.”

“Excuse us for a minute.” Zayne stood from his chair and exited the cell, nudging Xander’s arm along the way for him to follow. “What exactly do the Sentinels want with her?” He spoke low as they exited the cell block.

“I don’t much give two fucks. That female is my ticket to heaven. Neither you, nor any other bastard, is going to get in my way.”

“She’s innocent. And how is she going to get you back into the heavens? You chose to fall, remember?”

“Not the actual heavens. More like a motel room with raunchy porn in the background and a sex swing at the ready.”

“How is that any different from any other night for you? And what does she have to do with that? You’re not planning to fuck her, are you?”

“Not her. And what makes this different, you ask? A once in a lifetime night with an angel. Ever fucked one before? They don’t call them divine for nothing.”

Zayne rubbed his hand across his skull, trying to absorb Xander’s reasoning. “You’re going to hand over a female, who for the most part is innocent, for a piece of ass?”

“First of all, it ain’t just a piece of ass. It’s a divine piece of ass, and it so happens I made a promise to that ass. I don’t make promises as a general rule, but when I do, I don’t break ‘em for anyone. Second, she’s Fallen. She ain’t all that innocent. Third, and most importantly, she’s fucking Fallen. Which means every bit of what she just told you could hold as much truth as a porn star dressed in a priest’s vestments.”

“She confessed a sin. One that someone’s trying to kill her for.”

“You read her soul? You saw the truth yourself?”

Zayne crinkled his brow and clamped his mouth shut. “Give me until tomorrow. I may have more questions for her.” At the very least, it would buy him time to come up with a plan—even if it meant taking the female with him, to help him track down the drug-dealing demons and find Denya.

“You have until tomorrow. I’m getting in touch with the Sentinels the following day. No exceptions.”

“Deal.” Zayne would try to figure something out. Setting her free would put her at risk, and from the sounds of it, more so than what the Sentinels had in mind with her.

25

Through a black void, Ava stretched out her arm, and as clarity slowly trickled into her mind, she registered the emptiness beside her, the absence tugging her eyelids open. Lifting her head, she found half of the bed where Calix usually slept vacant. Beyond his spot, the clock glowed two in the morning.

She sat upright, gaze sweeping the dark room for him. “Calix?” Sliding out of bed, she wrapped her arms around herself and made her way to the bathroom, where she flipped on the lights.

Empty.

A vague conversation filtered into her thoughts. Something about Xander and hanging out. One she’d have sworn she’d dreamt, but it guided her feet out of the room and down the staircase, before she realized she wore only Calix’s thin T-shirt and a borrowed pair of briefs that fit a bit loose. Damn it. She tugged the shirt down to cover as much of her ass as possible.

Sucked not having her own clothes.

Thankfully, the mansion sat in a lull of quiet, so Ava continued on, figuring the brothers were in bed, even if they weren’t necessarily sleeping.

Ava had been to the catacombs once before, and she inwardly flinched when the cold, damp air wound around her, as she stared down into the dark stairwell lined with flickering sconces. That was the night she’d set Draven free and her act of betrayal in motion. At the time, she’d stood at the top of that staircase in chaos, contemplating right and wrong, before deciding the alternative of burning in Stygius alongside Ryke was far more frightening.

An echo of shouts piqued her ears, and Ava recognized Calix’s voice. Without a beat of hesitation, she scampered down the remaining stairs, into the bowels of the mansion.

If she happened upon the Fallen angel, Ava couldn’t be sure what she’d do, as they tended to wield twice the strength of the Nephilim. But she sure as hell wouldn’t stand by and let him hurt Calix, either.

At the bottom of the staircase, Ava peered into the eerie hallway that led to the cellblocks. Much as she yearned to call out to Calix, to know if it was, in fact, him that she’d heard, she didn’t dare. The Fallen angel slept in the catacombs, only adding to the creeptastic ambience that surrounded her, while phantom tendrils of cold air drifted over her skin like the translucent touch of a ghost.

Christ. No wonder the angel was a bit on the psychotic side. Having to sleep down there would probably turn her into a raving lunatic, too.

Pace unfaltering, she tiptoed toward the cells and the sounds of Calix’s moans, but winced when a sharp stab pierced her toe. “Fuck!” Ava bent forward, lifting a sharp-pointed square of glass from the cobblestone floor.

“Yeah, I called that one.”