Protected in Darkness (Misplaced Halos, 1) Read online

  “How long have you known about this?” Obsidian growled, not at all pleased with the situation.

  Perhaps for the first time in Obsidian’s two thousand years of existence, Michael appeared almost remorseful when he said, “Too long.”

  “Where are they?” Stygian demanded.

  “Unfortunately, warrior, that’s not for me to reveal.”

  “Bullshit,” Shadow hissed, stepping forward.

  Obsidian held out his arm in a gesture for the male to settle. Inciting Michael wouldn’t get them what they needed.

  “It took some groveling,” Michael explained, his eyes narrowing on Shadow, “which you all know I’m not fond of, but I managed to buy you some time.”

  Knowing he wasn’t going to like the answer, Obsidian asked anyway. “How long?”

  “Unfortunately, I don’t have an exact timeline. Let’s just say the situation’s being monitored closely.” He paced across the room, exhaled heavily, then turned to face them once more. “The sooner you find your amsouelots and complete the lintamair, the better.”

  The archangel made it sound so simple. Like making the acquaintance of a human would result in an instant love that could be punctuated by an archaic mating ritual. They all knew humans were a bit more complex than that. Even if the warriors did have the Fates on their side, it would require finesse. Tack on the fact they had to find them first…

  Michael studied them as though he expected them to spring into action. “You’re up against both the clock and your enemy, so I suggest you get to work.”

  “And if the situation escalates before we locate them?” Cimmerian asked, the dark rumble of his words reflecting his doubt.

  “My father has ordered their deaths.”

  A round of growls sounded.

  Michael held up a hand. “Not my call, warriors. My father has deemed their deaths imperative should you not fulfill your duties in order to avoid what would happen should Lucifer take possession of their souls. We’d all be in trouble if that were to happen.”

  That was an understatement. Because an amsouelot’s soul was tied to that of its mate, Lucifer would take possession of both souls. In this case, he would own an all-powerful, immortal warrior with capabilities that extended beyond that of an archangel. At least here on Earth. Not to mention, with the soul of the amsouelot, he would be able to persuade the warrior to do whatever he wanted.

  The only way to prevent that from happening was to bind the souls for eternity, placing them into the hands of Heaven’s guardians. So, not only did they have to find their amsouelots, they each had to get her to fall in love with them and—yes, as though that wasn’t difficult enough—and perform the lintamair, the official mating ceremony.

  “I’d like to put in a formal request for backup,” Obsidian told the archangel.

  Michael shook his head. “As outlined, you may not seek assistance from the humans, and I cannot grant you reinforcements from Heaven.”

  “So we’re on our own?” Stygian groaned.

  “Last I checked, you have forty or so angels at your disposal. Plus the seven of you.” Michael cocked one dark brow. “Seems more than fair to me.”

  “Fan-fucking-tastic,” Eclipse quipped. “Fifty heads to weed through seven-point-seven billion.”

  “A bit overdramatic, warrior,” Michael replied. “It’s safe to say you can narrow your search to North America.”

  “Well, in that case…” Eclipse rolled his eyes.

  Obsidian fought the urge to do the same because Eclipse was right. It was a near impossible task, and they didn’t have nearly enough manpower to tackle it.

  “Awesome,” Aphotic snapped. “Only five hundred seventy-nine million.”

  “I didn’t say it would be easy,” Michael noted, then canted his head. “Might I suggest you utilize other factions of misplaced halos. Perhaps they’ll offer you assistance.” He paced away once more. “But fair warning. Lucifer’s proving to be a formidable enemy. Not only to me but to humans and vampires alike. It’s come to my attention that the mesonneir have made it topside. And I’m hearing rumors the trielair won’t be far behind.”

  The mesonneir were the lieutenants in Lucifer’s demon armies, capable of severe devastation. On the other hand, the trielair were a beast all their own. They hadn’t come up from the bowels of hell for some six hundred years. It was then that they had laid waste to much of Europe and Asia, rolling out the Black Death, which resulted in the demise of roughly fifty million humans.

  “Rumors are spreading that he’s looking to acquire your souls in an effort to strengthen that brigade,” Michael continued. “Without you defending them, the humans will be wiped out. So, I suggest you waste no time.”

  “Why not eliminate us now?” Piceous prompted. “Without us, there’s no risk.”

  Michael smirked. “Don’t think I haven’t considered it. However, the Fates have informed me your souls have already been aligned with your amsouelots. The direct link is made. Should your amsouelots die, your souls would still reside with whomever owns their soul.”

  Which explained why God would eliminate them, ensuring He possessed both souls, regardless.

  Michael’s eyes slid over each one of them. “Because you’ve proven yourselves worthy, I requested you be given the opportunity to claim your amsouelots. My father’s aware that your existence will prove futile should He eliminate them, but He’s prepared for that outcome. Don’t let me down.”

  “You know, this could be made simple if you’d just tell us where they are,” Eclipse grumbled.

  “If it were up to me, warrior, I would,” Michael stated, his words ringing with sincerity.

  With that, the archangel vanished, the flutter of wings the only sound in his wake.

  “Son of a bitch!” Aphotic shouted, grabbing a pool stick and snapping it in two.

  Zeus barked once in warning. The canine was not fond of aggressive actions.

  However, Obsidian understood the male’s frustration. They’d been up against incredible odds before, but nothing of this magnitude.

  “So much for a vacation,” Stygian said.

  “Needless to say, our priorities have shifted,” Obsidian informed his brothers. “We’ll divide and conquer.”

  Stygian nodded, taking the scroll when Obsidian offered it. “Good news is, none of their names are Mary Smith.”

  True. But with a little more than half the population of North America being female … they had their work cut out for them.

  “Bring in the lieterras,” Obsidian instructed, his mind whirling with things that needed to happen to get their mission underway. “They can start searching.”

  “I’m on it,” Eclipse said before disappearing.

  “We need to meet with the fiestreigh,” Obsidian told Cimmerian. “Let them know we’re refocusing our efforts.”

  “Will do,” the male agreed, then vanished.

  “And someone have Søren bring back up the Misplaced Halos website. We’re gonna need all the help we can get.”

  Seven females to locate and a timeline they couldn’t determine.

  Sounded simple, right?

  Too bad nothing ever was.

  Chapter One

  Monday, July 22, 2019

  “YOU REALIZE WHAT THIS MEANS?”

  Glaring at the male keeping pace with him, Obsidian fought the urge to roll his eyes. “I suppose this is the point where you enlighten me.”

  Taayin smirked. “It’s what you pay me for.”

  Obsidian tucked his hands in his pockets as they approached the casino entrance. “I don’t pay you.”

  “We should chat about that. What is the going rate for the smart, handsome, right-hand of a celestial being, anyway?”

  “At your current pace?” Obsidian cut a quick look at the lieterra. “I think you should be paying me.”

  “You want to trade places for a minute?” Taayin taunted. “I’d like to see you transcribe one message from Tenebrous. Just one.” The male sighed.
“It’s a wonder I can get a single thing done with his constant chatter. On and on and on. You know what I mean?”

  “Better than you think.”

  “Shall we?” Taayin asked, holding the door open, his keen gaze scanning their surroundings.

  With his senses flaring out, Obsidian stepped inside the elaborate resort hotel.

  “As for that salary…” Taayin continued, strolling alongside him.

  “I let you live.” Obsidian headed toward the casino floor. “Seems rather generous to me.”

  “Yeah, maybe.” Taayin smirked, an amused gleam in his vivid blue eyes.

  Obsidian was tempted to thump the annoying angel back to the house. Just one flick of his finger and … poof.

  Instead, he sighed. “I think I can handle this outing on my own tonight, Taayin.”

  “Yeah. No.” Taayin stopped. “I know you’re a big boy and all, but no way am I letting you run amok. Remember what happened last time?”

  The memory brought a smile to Obsidian’s face.

  Taayin’s displeasure was reflected by the crease in his forehead. “Stop that. Michael will have my head if you wreak havoc in here. Do you even know how many views those YouTube videos got?”

  “I really don’t care.”

  “The most was six million,” he huffed. “Damn thing went viral. And that was Biloxi. Ever consider the hell that’ll rain down on this city when the demons catch wind that you’re here?” Taayin chuckled. “Get it? Hell? Rain down…” Another laugh.

  At least someone found him amusing.

  “If I promise not to obliterate the masses, will you take your ass home?”

  “Promises are like assholes. Everyone’s got one.” Taayin squinted, frowned. “No, wait. I think that’s opinions. Opinions are like—”

  “I get it,” Obsidian snarled.

  “Okay fine. Whatever.” Taayin dramatically motioned for Obsidian to precede him. “Your Majesty…”

  Obsidian growled low in his throat, a sound that drew the attention of tourists tossing money on tables like it was in endless supply.

  Eyes widened, even a few gasps as he continued on. Not unexpected. His size alone tended to intimidate mere mortals, never mind the fact that he was dressed head to toe in black and looked as though he would rip a throat out with the slightest provocation. Lucky for them, they couldn’t see behind the Oakley Radar Ev Paths he sported. The dark sunglasses weren’t a means of amping up the coolness factor. They were a necessity. They both protected his eyes from the bright lights and concealed the iridescent silver glow from the humans.

  As for Taayin … well, the angel had a long way to go before cool would be a term used to describe him. Truth was, he was a pussycat who had a penchant for classical music, enjoyed tiramisu more than could be normal, and had his Armani suits tailored to fit his six-foot-two-inch frame.

  Taayin flashed white teeth. “Don’t mind him,” he told the humans peering their way. “He can be a bit capricious. Being an angel and all.”

  “Fuck off.” Forcing his shoulders to relax, Obsidian strolled deeper into the casino. “If you’re not careful, you’ll be looking for a new job.”

  And they both knew the only other job for his kind was a number clerk in Heaven. As it was, Obsidian didn’t need his help. Being that Obsidian was a warrior angel cast down by an archangel, Taayin’s job as lieterra—translated to assistant—was more irritating than necessary.

  Try telling him that, though. He was nothing if not an insistent pain in his ass.

  The fact of the matter was, Obsidian could hold his own with the humans. The wide berth he garnered was proof.

  Because he was forced to live amongst them, Obsidian did not appear to be a threat to those who caught glimpses of him. Despite the fact he’d surpassed the two millennia mark, the outward facade reflected a strong, healthy male in his late twenties/early thirties, attractive to all genders, though slightly hardened by time. His hairstyle hadn’t changed much over the centuries, though in recent decades, he’d nixed his favored mohawk and simply brushed the thick jet-black strands back on the crown of his head, keeping the sides and back shorn tight to his scalp. Facial hair wasn’t a factor because, aside from the hair on his head, Obsidian was smooth as a baby’s ass, no need to shave whatsoever.

  At six foot ten inches, two hundred eighty pounds, he towered over most males. Though he wouldn’t be caught dead in one of those ridiculous suits, Obsidian garnered the respect his demeanor commanded. Provided the human wasn’t intimidated by size, he wouldn’t foster fear unless pushed. At which point, he didn’t mind rousing their antipathy in an effort to send them running. And while they could even interact if they were brazen enough, they would keep their distance. Which was exactly how he liked it.

  Throwing out a mental command for the humans to avoid looking at him, Obsidian evanesced his physical form, drifted through time and space to the balcony overlooking the casino floor, and materialized. Taayin appeared beside him, hands cocked on his hips as he scanned the floor below.

  Standing at the faux-stone railing, Obsidian leaned down, bracing himself on his forearms as he exhaled heavily, praying like hell the tip they’d received would pan out. Unlike the last two dozen.

  “Do you really think she’s here?” Taayin asked.

  “No reason to doubt the validity of the lead.” Not until they’d checked it out, anyway.

  For the past three centuries, the vampires had been their eyes and ears on the streets, passing along intel in return for backup when needed. From Obsidian’s vantage point, it was beneficial to both species. While the vampires had the numbers, the angels had the powers, and the combination of the two were necessary to keep the humans safe.

  While the angel grumbled beside him, Obsidian scanned the floor below, watching the interactions and keeping his eye out for the female he’d spent the past three weeks searching for.

  He turned his attention to the crowd, scanning the one hundred twenty-five thousand square feet of money-sucking games and those who succumbed to their vices. Some were angling to beat the house, hoping against hope they’d hit that multimillion-dollar jackpot, while a couple of wannabe card sharks tried their not-so-skilled hand at the tables. Then, of course, there were the working girls strutting through the space, looking for their next buck, dodging the millions of eyes in the sky.

  All blending naturally, as though they belonged.

  Obsidian figured technically they did. After all, Las Vegas was a playground for all sinners and saints, was it not?

  However, he wasn’t here for them.

  He was in search of…

  A soft growl rumbled in his chest as he stood tall, his eyes seeking the source of the connection he could feel deep in his soul.

  “Obsidian?”

  “I feel her,” he rasped, a desperate need to lay eyes on his amsouelot coiling his insides into knots.

  This was what he’d been waiting for since they set out on this search-and-rescue mission. To think she could possibly be within reach put a promising twist on what he’d started thinking was a pipe dream.

  Taayin pulled out his phone, glanced at it.

  “Uh … Obsidian…” His hand rose, finger pointing.

  Obsidian followed the direction and exhaled slowly, taking in the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen: Penelope Calazans in all her human glory.

  The female was radiant even wearing the casino’s designated uniform for their cocktail waitresses: a silky white minidress that showed off an ample amount of smooth ivory flesh. Unlike the majority of cocktail waitresses who donned comfortable yet ugly footwear, her small feet were tucked into high heels that accentuated her lovely legs.

  No more than five four, she was a tiny little thing. No bigger than a minute. But she carried herself like a goddess who towered over many. Long, shiny hair the color of caramel was curled into silky waves, flowing down her back, the tips brushing her phenomenal ass with every sway of her hips. Wide eyes, delicate cheekbones, and a l
ush mouth tied her beguiling face together perfectly.

  And this particular female, in all her natural beauty, was his. His amsouelot.

  “She’s a bit smaller than I expected,” Taayin muttered from beside him.

  Obsidian could feel the male’s questioning gaze as he glanced at him, then her, then back to him again.

  Taayin’s voice was low when he said, “I think you can hold her in the palm of your hand.”

  Obsidian growled softly, a warning for the male to shut the fuck up.

  On the other hand, he understood Taayin’s concern, because there was a drastic physical difference between him and his soul’s beloved. The fragile human female was dwarfed by his formidable size and strength.

  Keeping his attention on the female strolling across the casino floor, Obsidian gripped the balustrade and allowed his senses to flare out once more, taking in every detail. Blocking out the irritating music piped in through the speakers, the absurd noise emitted from the slot machines, the acrid scents arising from the buffet and various cafes, he focused only on her. The soft rasp of her breaths, the steady thrum of her heartbeat, the sweet, powdery scent that beckoned him.

  The conversation taking place around her was set to a dull roar, but Obsidian shut it out, centering on the golden-haired female taking drink orders from three high rollers at a blackjack table. She smiled sweetly, passed over a diluted Jack and Coke. Obsidian gave the receiver a mental push and he paused, pulling out his wallet before passing over a tip. Her eyes widened as did her smile when she accepted the one-hundred-dollar bill.

  It was the least he could do.

  “Well, what are you waiting for?” Taayin mumbled. “Introduce yourself.”

  It was the only thing he’d wanted since he found out about the list that had been leaked. Like him, Obsidian’s brothers were scattered across the continent, following up on leads on their own amsouelots, hoping to make contact and provide protection from the demons set out to acquire their souls.

  As he stood there, debating his next move, the female stopped in her tracks, her gaze scanning her surroundings as though looking for someone or something. Liquid gold eyes lifted, stopping on him at his perch high above her. She remained there for a moment, though she couldn’t see him. He had ensured that much.