Domiel (2 page)

Kelsey blinked. Maybe she’d passed out during training and face-planted in the muddy water after seeing Domiel fantasize about her. Could shock make you crazy? Could it make you imagine things?

“Kelsey!” Lexie shook her. “You need to get your ass moving! They’re going to come for you any minute.”

Her friend’s frantic voice wormed through her fatigue. “What the hell are you talking about?” With little sleep and a body that shook from exhaustion, she couldn’t take much more tonight.

Lexie was so agitated, her blond ponytail bounced even under the weight of the rain. “I can’t get into it now. They aren’t wasting any time. I’ve looked into your future, but all I have right now is that you’re being investigated for killing demons.”

There were times Lexie’s psychic power was a boon, but Kelsey didn’t think she needed it for this. “So? I’ll just go talk to Ambrose. That’s crazy.” When the hell had she been off the grounds? She had an alibi. “I’ve been here the entire time.”

Lexie got in her face, all serious and intense. “They think you’ve been killing them with your powers, while you’re sleeping. You don’t have a chance at having an alibi.”

“That’s impossible. You can’t physically harm someone in the dream realm.” Kelsey’s mind raced, her overworked heart now tripping in her chest. She thought back to Ambrose’s attempts to probe her mind and swallowed the knot forming in her throat. How long had she been under investigation? Why hadn’t he just asked her about these accusations?

The demon who’d been stalking her nightmares must be framing her. Strange that he’d just reappeared in her life and now she was being accused of something she hadn’t done. She took a deep breath and looked away from Lexie. Christ, time plotted against her. The demon who controlled her dreams was the only other individual she knew who possessed the power of an incubus. “I can let Ambrose in. He’ll see—”

“We don’t have time for this shit, Kels. I wasn’t going to mention it, because I know you’ve been through so much these past few months, but I’ve seen your
death
.” Lexie’s eyes begged her to listen. “Get the
fuck
out of here. Now. Take nothing and just leave.”

Kelsey knew better than to ask more questions, even though they were on the tip of her tongue. She’d been trained to take orders, and Lexie wouldn’t lead her astray. If Lexie said she’d seen her die, she was as good as dead unless she took charge of her future and changed it.

A shiver had her tightening her jaw. She’d been at the mercy of others before, and she’d rather die than ever go there again. The Alliance had no idea the shit storm they were in for if they thought she’d meekly be imprisoned. That old saying was right: whatever didn’t kill you only made you stronger. And after having eighty spiritual demons rape your soul, she’d be damned if she allowed anyone to control her life—or death.

“Call me at our Paris nightclub. I’ll be there in two days’ time.” Though the words had come from her mouth, she’d sounded like someone else. Her reflexes had already kicked in, her adrenaline urging her to run—to find the male who’d stolen her life and freedom. Lexie handed her a wad of bills and a nine mil. “Don’t use your credit card. Now go.”

She leaned in and embraced Kelsey. The fierce hug choked Kelsey up. “Tell G.I. Jade I’m going to kick her ass for this bullshit training session when I get back.”

“Just get back, okay? Then we can kick her ass together. I promise.”

Kelsey slapped Lexie on the back and released her before she changed her mind. Within seconds Kelsey had disappeared into the shadows, leaving everything and everyone she loved behind.

* * * *

Domiel sat up, his back ramrod stiff, wondering what had woken him from one of the best dreams he’d had since he’d fallen from grace. His sudden movement caused swords to clatter to the ground, and the supple blonde next to him to mutter and turn on her side, bringing his jacket with her. The leather draped over her petite form loosely, showing off the elegant curve of a hip.

The two Kelseys, one his fantasy, and the other close to the real thing, must be his guilt surfacing and coming to a head in the dream. He should take his training more seriously, and though many times he did, it came a close second to the temptations of the flesh. The two pulled him in opposite directions.

The dream had seemed so real once the second Kelsey had appeared. Mud had covered her body, her normally blond hair a dark smudge against pale skin. She’d looked adorable for all of two seconds, and then she’d reamed his ass.

Weird.

He raised his arms above his head and pushed his chest out, heard the telltale crack of his back. Sex really was worth the fall from grace, though he’d thought some form of emotion would have accompanied the act. He’d slept with countless women, yet he rarely remembered their names. Kelsey, on the other hand…

Someone pounded on the door of the armory. Well hell. That explained what had ripped him from his dream. He grabbed his torn jeans lying on the floor and pulled them on. He’d been sent to the armory to get a few weapons for training, but he’d run into a hot new recruit, and well, that had been that. He checked his watch. He’d been gone for over four hours.

Three more solid pounds on the door and Domiel yanked it open, jeans unbuttoned and unzipped, not the least bit ashamed at being caught with the newbie—until he saw who stood on the other side.

Ambrose, his feet planted apart, looked ready to do battle. His shoulder-length black hair was pulled back, his brown leather jacket wet from the rain, his face taut with pain. He looked behind Domiel to the sleeping form, then back to him without blinking. “I need you to track someone down. Immediately.”

Surprised Ambrose had sought him out in the armory, Domiel only nodded. He had yet to go on his first mission for the Alliance.
Where the hell was his shirt?

When Ambrose didn’t elaborate, Domiel figured he should say something. “A tracking mission?” Normally assassins were given a name and address, and their mission was to assassinate whatever vic they were sent in for. The heads of the Alliance were the individuals to hand down the sentence, and the assassins were sent in to deliver the sentence, but tracking? He hadn’t signed on to be a tracker.

Finally finding his shirt hanging on the barrel of an M16, he slipped the black cotton over his head and tugged it down his torso.

Ambrose had taken a few steps into the armory, staying out of the rain. He pinched the bridge of his nose and stood there for a few seconds. “Kelsey. She left about an hour ago.”

Domiel had leaned over to pick up one of his boots when the familiar name stopped him cold. He must not have heard him right. “Kelsey? As in…”

“You’re wasting time.” Ambrose bit out. “I need you to bring her back for questioning.” His body remained rigid, his face stoic.

Damn, could Ambrose be that cold? The male was known for his soft spot concerning the three musketeers—Alexia, Jade, and Kelsey. They got away with shit the other assassins could only dream of. Kelsey, however, had always been the quiet female of the bunch. If anyone should be taken to task, it should be Alexia, not Kelsey. “Why?”

“Your business is to track her and bring her back, not ask me questions.” Each word had come out as its own sentence. Ambrose’s temper seemed at odds with the pleading look in his troubled eyes. “I’m sending you because you aren’t involved with her. There’s no one else who can be objective. Kelsey has a way about her once you get to know her…” His voice trailed off, and he folded his arms. “She left about an hour ago from the training field.”

Domiel wasn’t close to her, but she remained the only individual he’d desired to get to know better. The thought of having to apprehend her for a crime sat ill with him.

Ambrose looked around the armory. “I’ve turned a blind eye to your indiscretions for months now. I’ve allowed you a time of leave after your fall from grace.” Ambrose’s gaze returned to him. “No more. You prove your worth to the Alliance or you forfeit your place as an assassin. You know as well as I do that once you leave the Alliance, Luc will waste no time in approaching you for his own legions.”

Domiel’s name no longer graced the Book of Life. Luc could coerce him. At the very least, Luc would make his life a living hell.

“She also has the ability to communicate through thought,” Ambrose continued. “She’ll use that power to check up on our status where she’s concerned. Alexia is being held and watched so she can’t communicate with her, right along with Jade. Don’t tell anyone where you’re going, or who you’re going after. Otherwise she’ll know.”

A strange sensation came over him. Dread? “She can communicate by thought?”

“Thoughts and dreams. As long as it’s on the subconscious level, she can communicate.”

Well, hell. That explained a lot. He wasn’t embarrassed she’d caught him though. It had been a damned good dream.

Ambrose leaned forward until they were nose to nose. “Bring her back. Tonight. If you don’t reach her by the time the sun comes up she’ll be long gone.” He turned to leave, muttering, “If she’s not out of the country already.”

“Do I have an acceptable level of force I can use?” Domiel hated to ask, but he’d need to take the kid gloves off if he had any chance of wrestling her back. Quiet she might be, but he’d seen her level men twice her size. The woman fought dirty when needed, and she never apologized for it.

Ambrose glanced back at him, narrowed his eyes, and threw over his shoulder, “She’s a vampire. She’ll heal if you feel the need to use excessive force. However, you’d better bring her back alive.”

Ambrose slammed the door behind him, leaving Domiel to contemplate what had just transpired. Kelsey was one of their oldest and most trusted assassins. What the hell could she have done to bring the heads of the Alliance down on her? Not to mention she had run, which meant she must be guilty of whatever they wanted to speak to her about.

Whenever he saw her something tugged at his memories, as though he’d met her before he’d enlisted in the Alliance. But that was impossible.

Domiel turned back to … what the hell was her name? Karen? Casey? He ran his hand over his new buzz cut. A few short months ago he’d been an Angel of Souls on a mission—to help Jade make the transition from this plane of existence to the next after being marked for death by the powers that be, but he’d come up against an unmovable object—Samael. A former Angel of Souls, Samael had begged him not to take Jade’s soul. Samael had been willing to give anything to keep Jade with him, and Domiel had done the unthinkable.

He’d allowed her to stay.

In doing so he’d fallen from grace, though he hadn’t martyred himself just for the sake of Samael’s girl. He’d wanted to experience the connection Jade and Samael shared, but so far the relationships Domiel had experienced since he’d been in this realm didn’t compare.

Heaven had been sterile, in a way, compared to the emotions one experienced on earth. Lust was the biggest and most challenging sentiment to come to terms with, since lust was dormant in Heaven. He’d run with that, hoping to understand why humans did the things they did for others. He’d taken almost every willing woman to bed, though none had stirred anything other than his sex.

He glanced down at the young recruit’s sleeping form. His jacket covered most of her body, and though he could remember her curves, he could recall little else. He left the armory, leaving his jacket lying on top of the woman whose name he couldn’t remember, wishing for all the world he didn’t have to track the female whose name he could.

Chapter Two

Paris, France

Spring in France. A vacation spot for lovers of art, lovers of history, and for lovers in general. A city where ancient structures and modern idiosyncrasies collided, it remained a destination to lose oneself and create memories to last a lifetime. Kelsey absolutely detested the city, though she had no recourse. The demon framing her chose victims in this city, so Paris was her only lead at the moment.

There’d been a time Paris had been one of her most beloved hangouts. She, Lexie, and Jade had frequented the nightclubs and restaurants, got drunk and rowdy. The town had a vibrancy to it she’d once adored. Of course, a little demonic torture and near insanity as she lay trapped in the dank catacombs beneath the city for months had tainted the city’s flavor for her forever.

She glanced around the long-term parking lot of the airport for a decent car to hotwire. The Alliance would be onto her soon. Especially since she’d hijacked one of their new jets and held a nine mil to the pilot’s head throughout the flight.

Her pink sweats had dried somewhat while she’d been on the plane, but without exercise to keep her heart rate up, she was freezing her ass off in the cold spring temps. Thankfully the sun would be up shortly, and she could get her ass to a shop and buy some new clothes.

Finally settling on a POS Toyota Corolla tucked ass-backward in the corner of the lot, she made short work of jimmying the door and yanking the steering column open.

The energy of a demon manifested in her vicinity, and she fumbled with the wires in her hand. Normally that meant it was time to take out her daggers and eliminate the threat. Knee-deep in hotwiring the Corolla, she had no time to waste, and not many options.

The spicy scent of the demon grew stronger as heavy boot steps picked up speed, echoing inside the cement structure.
Shit.
He’d honed in on her energy source already. Fighting the urge to quit what she was doing and take him out, she quickly finished twisting the wires together, relieved when the car’s engine roared to life.

When she straightened in the driver’s seat and turned on the headlights, they illuminated a familiar male standing in front of the car. Wearing black leather, black military boots, and armed to the teeth, she knew he was there for her. The newbies always overdressed for the job, and this particular Casanova was no exception.

So they’d sent Domiel, a trainee with no prior experience and no sense of duty to bring back one of their top assassins? Seriously. A
rookie
?