Redeemed In Shadows E-Book

Tigris Eden

• Herausgeber: Kats Kreative Ideas
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Serie: Shadow Unit
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 417

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2014

Beschreibung

Sometimes wrongs can be righted and the mistakes of a person's past forgiven.

And sometimes things can go very very wrong...

Gabe, the Harbinger of Death has been Earth-bound for almost two hundred years, his punishment for taking the life of another without cause. He's been trying to atone ever since, by joining the Shadow Unit and befriending the last man he should.

Now, with only two weeks left on his sentence, he prepares to leave the team behind for good-but only after training his replacement. When the enigmatic Kapua(Xee)Hale appears, tempting his desires, Gabe temporarily forgoes business for a night of pleasure by working her out of his system.

But will one night be enough?

Tensions are high at Shadow Unit headquarters. Loyalties are tested and old debts are called in as the team embarks on a dangerous new mission that exposes Gabriel's dark past.

**Dark Paranormal Romance Multicultural** 

Leseprobe

This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

REDEEMED IN SHADOWS

First edition. April 7, 2019.

Copyright © 2019 Tigris Eden.

Written by Tigris Eden.

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Table of Contents

Copyright Page

Redeemed In Shadows | Tigris Eden

DEDICATION

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

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Awakened In Shadows

Glossary of terms

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Further Reading: It Happened On a Tuesday

Also By Tigris Eden

Redeemed In Shadows

Tigris Eden

Copyright © 2014 Tigris Eden

All rights reserved.

ISBN:

ISBN-13: 978-1500828684

ISBN-10 1500828688

DEDICATION

I would like to dedicate Redeemed In Shadows to Vicki Sloboda! Thank you for always being supportive of my work! It means a lot!

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Copyright 2014 Tigris Eden

Cover: Jenn Howard Gun Powder Designs

Editor: Sheryl Policar

(Author Services by Cu)

All Rights Reserved

THIS EBOOK IS LICENSED for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the work of the author's imagination, or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, locales, or events is entirely coincidental.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

To The Shadow Unit Street Team, I couldn’t have asked for a more fantastic group of gals! Thank you for all your lovely words and ego boosts!

To you, the READER... THANK YOU for reading my words and enjoying my stories. It means the world to me that you welcome me to your reading device on a regular basis.

As always a big thank you to God. Without him, nothing is possible.

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“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It’s our light, not our darkness that most frightens us.”

A Return to Love Marianne Williamson

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The Countdown Begins

GABE PULLED HIS FINGERS through his hair for what seemed like the millionth time. There was no other way to get around this situation. He could run, but what would that get him? It’d get him locked up for all eternity, or a true death, that’s what. Not acceptable. He should have requested more time on this plane. Demanded he at least tie up loose ends. But his demands would not gain the attention of the audience that he would need in order to pull off such a request.

He hadn’t interfered. Hell, he rarely gave his opinions anymore. He’d learned that lesson the hard way.  He may have cracked a few jokes here and there, but never with cruelty. He didn’t even blanch at the idea of calling the search off for Stone, not even when the other male had been declared dead and everyone had thrown in the towel. He’d offered no words of comfort or advice, not even for Jesminda, who was devastated and refused to believe her mate was gone. He’d said nothing to console her. She believed her mate was out there somewhere, lost and badly injured. Any immortal still licking their wounds after all this time was better off dead. Stop making excuses, you know what’s really happening. He knew it and it wouldn’t change a damn thing.

The computer screens flickered to life, breaking Gabe out of his thoughts. The bio signatures were complete. Everyone on the team was in the system. Jes and the Phoenix, Bells, included. The system surrounding the buildings perimeter would detect any outsider. Coupled with the ward the local coven had set, it would provide information alerting them of any dangers. The glow from the monitors lit up his workstation and the darkness beyond. He kept himself busy most days, gathering intel, people watching on the monitors, and even the occasional porn kept him company. A man had to keep up on his skills, right? Maybe today would be a good day for a stroll. Stroll? People didn’t say stroll anymore, they said things like, “let’s roll’ or “kick rocks.” He only had a little over a month left in this realm. How would his teammates feel when he revealed his true self? The enemy of my enemy is my friend. Hopefully they would see it that way.

There was a time, when he only saw black and white, right and wrong. There was a time when he’d have sung the song of justice and delivered it just as quickly. Pansy ass. Could he even call himself that? Sure, he hadn’t been honest with himself or the team. Soon they would be on opposite sides of this war, him up there, and them here on Earth’s plane. They’d be trying to survive and he’d be escorting the bodies of the dead, left and right. On top of that, a man he’d come to respect and like would never look at him the same again.

Gabe heard him, before he saw his visitor. He was in the corner of his office. The shadows seemed to shrink away, revealing a being with grayish-silver metallic skin and eyes blacker than the abyss he came from, Greyson.

“You overthink things,” the Seraph said as he stepped out of the shadows into the light. He was an Angel of War, but not just any Seraph, he and his brothers were the Elite’s Warrior Angels. Slaves to the bands wrapped tightly around their neck. Only their mates could free them, and the Nubi were extinct. So much for their happily-ever-after.

“You’re dramatic,” Gabe shot back.

“I’ve come to issue a warning.”

Always with the warnings, as if he hadn’t had enough during his two hundred year sentence.

“What warning?”

“Don’t interfere in this upcoming battle.”

Direct, but still elusive. He knew something was brewing, everyone did. They just didn’t know what. Too many things were happening all at once, the emergence of both the Red Hand Organization, and Eremiel was not a coincidence. Something bad was coming; and it was going to tear everyone’s world upside down.

Greyson, almost seven feet tall, blocked what little light the screens threw off in the office. His shoulders were wide enough to cast their own shadows. Shoulder length charcoal hair, that sometimes looked silver at night, settled in what women called, silky waves around his head. It was the collar that drew your attention though. A metal not found of this world, with the power to make the wearer bow to your commands. Greyson and his brothers had managed to kill the original owner, but not before learning that the slave collar came with a curse. Only their mates could remove it, and their mates were a race of warrior women called the Nubi, killed by the mother of all demons, Lilith.

Females still fell at Grey’s feet, and who was he to offer warning? It was their funeral. Gabe on the other hand, wasn’t afforded the luxury of a woman’s touch. Most of his time was spent in the computer room, operating the controls, making sure security was tight. There wasn’t time for frolicking. Frolicking? Damn his age was showing.

“Do I ever interfere?” Gabe said as an afterthought.

Greyson eyed him skeptically, his frown evident around the corners of his mouth. He knew that the angel wondered if he really was expected to answer Gabe’s question.

“You are not to interfere,” the seraph repeated, crossing his arms over his chest. He was standing at his full height, the top of his head almost touching the ceiling, and for a moment, Gabe envied him. He’d volunteered for Earth duty as a way of getting out of spending what equated to a millennium in hell. A small price to pay for the crime he committed. That was until he sought out Dravaggio. Now, he was soaked in his sin on a daily basis, confronted with the truth of his crime at every turn. A huge part of him missed his true nature. He was meant to be free of pain and free from emotions, but as the years went on, he’d grown accustomed to this form; to things his current body needed, longed for. The basic hungers of any man. Sleep, food, and sex. He’d been waking up with the hard on from hell, six weeks running. It wasn’t for anyone in particular, just something his body craved. He craved the taste of a woman’s kiss, to be able to sink into her flesh, enjoy her warmth, while his tongue explored all her supple features. Gabe’s body went taught with lust, and Greyson huffed in exasperation.

“I never want to feel as you feel right now, Gabriel.”

Yeah, well the Seraph had the curse going for him to prevent that.

“Your point?”

“Emotions are for the weak. They hinder the bearer their lucidity.”

He was entitled to his opinion, but Gabe knew that the Warrior Angels had outlets.

“What about the Pleasure Angels?”

“They are used for the edge that builds up due to battle. I don’t coddle those females, and unlike my brothers, I don’t visit the same one twice.”

Greyson turned his head from left to right, cracking his neck and looking at his surroundings. He returned his black gaze to Gabe. It was said that his eyes hadn’t always been black, but a shade of purple, even deeper than Dravaggio’s. Compliments of his mother, who was a Valkyrie. A female of Nordic descent who decided the fate of Vikings on the battlefield. Greyson’s father had captured and kept her for hundreds of years, until she bore him a son. Grey, the product of their union, had his father’s looks, but his mother’s black heart. He had four other brothers who all had different mothers, and all of them were mean bastards; just like the one who stood before him now. Passing judgment, doing what they were called to do. His would-be jailers, if he stepped over the line.

“Regardless, you still make use of your body’s needs.”

“You should have joined us when you had the chance, Death Bringer.”

“Wrong Angel, that’s Azrael’s job.”

His brother Azrael was death in all its true forms. He was the youngest of Gabe’s siblings and was truly death incarnate.

“For now.”

Yeah, Azrael was up there bringing in the souls, and not in the cleanest of ways either. Nevertheless, the fates had done nothing to stop him. Gabe, on the other hand, was punished the first time he’d ever stepped out of line. Each of his brother’s played a different part in death’s plan. Gabe meted out the punishment; and most often than not, was responsible for some of the most heinous of wars. Michael escorted lost souls, guiding them towards the light. Abaddon dealt with the suicides and attempted suicides, making deals or breaking them. Then, there was their brother Azrael, more demon than angel. He dealt with the blackest, most vile of souls, escorting them to the gates of hell. 

“I am not here to go over the semantics of who does what. I’ll be back in four weeks. Don’t make me chase you, Gabriel, Harbinger of Death.”

Greyson stepped closer and looked down at Gabe.

“Four weeks.”

He understood. In four weeks, he’d be relinquishing his post, leaving the Shadow Unit, and ascending back to the Black Veil. He’d return to his true self. He’d be a collector of souls. Business, as always, was booming.

1

Xee hated crowds, but she was a sucker for coffee cake. Braving the crowded sidewalk for a chance at the cinnamon swirl confectionery delight, had her hurrying through the throng of bodies. The coffee shop was located ten blocks away from her ratty-assed apartment. Micah was silent for most of their journey. Usually, all he did was talk, well, it was more whining and complaining, but Xee was grateful for a chance to relax and listen to her iPod. As she crossed a busy intersection, people moved out of her way; some, even made sure that she knew they were moving because of her. She knew what she looked like to them. Trouble. What you see is what you get, bitches. They gawked at her pink Mohawk and tattoos. Of course, her overall attitude, exuded hostility. She liked it that way.

“You’re so dramatic,” Micah whispered through her mind. So much for that silence she’d been enjoying.

There were times, when being a Host sucked. Xee shook her head in thought. Being a Host sucked all the time. Her Para-housed, Micah, could be a pain in the ass one hundred percent of the time.

When she was little, her parents mistook the voices in her head as imaginary friends. They didn’t know that she was having actual conversations with dead people, or what she now knew, were mostly immortal souls, lost, only a handful of them having been humans. It wasn’t until her thirteenth birthday that they started to see her for what she really was. A gateway for possession. Instead of trying to help her understand her ability, her parents treated her to her first exorcism. When that didn’t work, they had her institutionalized. Fun times. That had been no picnic. Xee picked up her pace as she passed body after body, making her way through downtown Houston. Occasionally, she’d see something she didn’t want to see. Like the drug dealer at the corner, who was really a Croucher Demon, or Entrance Demon. Any chance they had to gain entrance to a human’s soul, they’d go after. That was the true possession. They wore their human’s skin like a thin veil. Only Hosts could see through it and what she saw wasn’t pretty. Grotesque and scaly skin, with slime oozing out of its pores, and thick saliva dripping down its chin. It smiled at her. Some demons knew what she was, others didn’t.

Xee turned her music up as she passed by. Entrance demons didn’t like music, a little tidbit she picked up during her stint in the institution. The screaming, therapy, and twisted methods of doctor Mikal Sorenson, had guided her to the world of music. She had an eclectic taste and one night, when she realized that Mikal was possessed, she decided music would distract her from their group sessions. She’d found that most of the staff abhorred the sound. At least, her parents gave her that. They wouldn’t come see her, but they’d send her music.

That was how she ended up hosting Micah, a lost soul who’d been tortured and killed, at the hands of Doctor Sorenson. His soul was trapped at the institution with no chance of redemption. The two of them teamed up and struck a deal. Micah was willing to help with the demise of the good doctor and in exchange for his help, Xee offered her body until he was ready to move on.

She’d fast learned that Micah had the better end of their pact. He was annoying as hell, and there were times that she wondered what would have happened if she’d said no. That deal had been struck eight years ago, on her sixteenth birthday.

“Reminisce much.”

“Shut up, Micah,” Xee said, rounding the corner and spotting her coffee shop. One of the many setbacks to being a Host, was that she found that at times she spoke to her companion out loud for all to hear. On the plus side, she didn’t have to look at his ugly face.

“Keep talking shit, Xee.”

Xee reached for the door handle and walked inside the shop. Fresh ground coffee, mixed with the scent of sugar and baked goods, wafted around her. Dean Martin was singing about love, and save for the cashier and two other patrons, the shop was empty. Thank God.

The cashier moved away from the counter to make her coffee. She’d been in the shop enough times that she didn’t have to tell her what her order was, unless there was someone else manning the registers. The display case was open for anyone who wished to grab their goodies; and there in the display case, was her guilty pleasure starring her in the face.

“I think I got all gooey inside just from your orgasmic meltdown ace.”

“Shut it, Micah.”

The morning must have been extremely busy. She was expecting to at least get her hands on three cakes, but there was only one. One will have to do. She was just about to reach for the coffee cake, when a masculine hand reached past her and grabbed it.

“What the fuck?” Xee looked over her shoulder and froze.

It was an Angel, a real live Angel; and it was the first time she’d ever seen one up close. In all her twenty-four years, she’d never stood anywhere near an Angel. She’d seen them from afar, had even watched one hunt down its prey, but never had she ever been this close.

“Don’t touch him!” Micah screamed inside her head. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, and her legs were rooted to the spot, even though her mind was telling her to run like hell. If Micah was worried, Xee knew she should fear for her life. This guy was dangerous, he exaggerated masculinity in a way that excited and scared the shit out of her. His face was harsh, with an aquiline nose and naturally arched brows that were a shade darker than his blond hair. He had a warrior’s body, encased in black fatigues and a gray shirt that stretched tight over an expansive, chiseled chest and very broad shoulders. Dude was stacked. None of that really phased her. Not really. It was his wings.

None of the other three people in the coffee shop could see them, but she could. His wings blocked out the storefront windows, casting a shadow over the two patrons. They probably thought the sun was blocked by clouds, which was the norm in Texas. But it was him, his large, imposing wings, and if she had to guess, she would say, they were at least two feet taller than his six foot tall frame at the arched tips, putting them at eight or nine feet. They were a light gray that turned sooty black at the tips.

Hell no, she wasn’t going to touch him! But she would give him a piece of her mind, because no one and nothing was going to scare her again. The Angel looked momentarily stunned by her, his lids closed briefly, opened again, and his champagne-colored eyes zeroed in on her face.

“Did you want it?” He asked, looking from her to the coffee cake already in his massive hand.

“Not anymore I don’t, you no-manners having idiot.”

The cashier returned with Xee’s drink. “Here you go.”

Xee reached into her pants to pull out some cash, but the stranger stopped her with a hand on her shoulder, and Xee jerked away, almost hissing at their contact. His touch was electric; and not in a good way. Well, her mind fought the reaction, her body relayed a different message. Heat gathered between her legs, and her breasts felt heavy and sensitive. Deep-seated-erotic images began flashing through her mind. Her, him, tangled and panting. Where in the hell did that come from? She didn’t tangle with men.

“I’ll take care of it, May, thanks,” the blond Angel said, putting a twenty on the table. Again, he reached over Xee and she quickly backed away.

Was this dude for real? Who did he think he was, an Angel do-gooder?”

“Xee, just take the coffee and go, honey bear.”

Micah only called her ‘honey bear’ when he really wanted something from her, and he really wanted her to leave. She wasn’t homeless, she may look raggedy to an outsider, but her clothes were clean, she had a roof over her head. She even had a job interview today. She wasn’t helpless, dammit!

“Hey, Ace, I don’t need your help. Take your money off the table and back your truck up.” Xee slapped a five on the counter next to his twenty and moved around him and his giant ass wings.

“Ace?”

She didn’t stop as she made her way to the door, but she did impart one last thing before stepping out into the mid-morning throng of people.

“Yeah, ‘Ace’. You know, high flyer.”

The Angel had a look of utter confusion on his face as she walked out.

“Clearly, today is going to be a fucked up day, Xee, let’s just hope this was the highlight reel and it’s now over. You have an interview to prep for.”

“No shit, Sherlock,” Xee said aloud as she passed by a couple of Changelings on the street. Today must be Immortal come out and play day or something, because the creepy crawlies were out en masse.

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GABE MADE IT BACK TO the unit’s building with a hard on. A damn hard on! He didn’t even care for sex anymore. He had other issues on his mind, like going back to his realm and facing off with his brothers. and finding a replacement that was best suited for his job here on Earth. So far, no one had been able to solve the simple algorithm he’d put out as a test. He needed to try a different tactic.

“Dravaggio’s waiting for you in the War Room.”

He tried not to cringe at the sound of the Siren’s voice. He understood her purpose, but damn that voice of hers was hideous. Dravaggio placed Ellie in the front to detour humans from getting past the front desk. To humans, the Shadow Unit building looked like a professional medical building, but it wasn’t. Humans always ignored the building, thanks to the magical wards put up, courtesy of the local coven. But some humans were sensitive to magic and couldn’t be clouded, like the girl from the coffee shop. She’d noticed him, really noticed him; and he had the strangest impression she’d noticed his wings. He’d let them out, but not so humans could see. It completely shocked the hell out of him, even as he popped a boner. A boner that was still very prominent, if the look of embarrassment on Ellie’s face was anything to go by. Her cheeks were red and her eyes were down cast as she abruptly swiveled in her chair when their eyes connected.

“Let him know I’m on my way, gotta swing up to Jes and Draven’s, drop off some coffee cake for the mom-to-be.”

Jesminda was pregnant and although she was happy and glowing, Gabe knew he wouldn’t be able to help her on this leg of her journey. Grey had made that painfully clear, and now that he only had a couple of weeks left on his sentence, his angelic powers were swiftly returning. His visions were back, and what he saw in her future wasn’t good. Her journey in this life was on a temporary pause. So he splurged on the once human, now Elder Angel, and got her and her belly whatever they desired. Gabe hit the stairs instead of the elevators, hoping his erection would be under control by the time he made it up the four flights to the living quarters. The unit’s building was now a living and breathing entity. Lycans, Vampiri, Angels, Ferals, and Demons, but a very select few lived here, himself included. Gabe walked down the hall and tried his hardest not to cringe.

Jes and Draven’s door burst open and out ran Faith with another little girl. It was Sam’s niece, Reece. Sam had recently joined the team and was second in command in Draven’s pack. Draven and his father, Alexander, had a huge falling out, which resulted in the pack splitting. Sam followed Draven, along with several other pack members; all of who now resided here at the unit’s building.

“Stay on this floor you two, common area only. Got me?” Jes said on the other side of the door.

“Yes,” they both yelled over their shoulders, sprinting toward the television room. Jes spotted him and her golden eyes lit up when she smiled.

“Gabe.”

“Hey, pretty lady.”

“Hey there, yourself,” Jes looked amazing and she was glowing so brightly, he almost had to look away. Pregnancy sat well with her. Gabe held the bag up for her to see.

“I almost lost my life trying to nab this for you, but you’re worth it.”

Jes snatched the bag eagerly and moaned. There was an audible growl from inside her room, making Gabe chuckle under his breath.

“That better be food, petal, that’s making you moan.”

“Oh hush.”

Nodding in Jes’ direction Gabe turned making his way back towards the staircase to meet up with Dravaggio in the War Room. Seconds before he hit the stairs, he heard Jes’ high-pitched laughter.

Gabe reflected on his time, what was left of it, and how he’d gotten to be where he is. This precise moment, theses seconds, were all a reminder of what little time he had left. He’d made friends, he’d made enemies, and he’d bedded his fair share of women over the last two hundred years. Now, he only had a couple of weeks to say his goodbyes and make lasting memories, before he was in another place, another time.

Time on his plane worked differently than on Earth’s plane. It was unending. A place folding in on itself repeatedly, where one could live infinitely beyond millennia because time was never kept. There were no clocks, no moon and sun phases, to signal the end or start of the day. There was just existence and the push to carry out one’s purpose. His purpose was death. He’d gone by many names, had been called many things. All of them fit aptly.

Gibril.

Jibrīl.

Jibrāʾīl.

Gavri'el.

Gaḇrîʼēl.

All were names he’d been called throughout his long life.

Heralder of Death.

Angel of Death.

Harbinger of Death. That one was his favorite.

Tenth Plague.

Angel of Death over Kings.

Man in Linen.

Agent of Death.

Hired Assassin.

All were titles that were given to him. In fact, it was the last one that exiled him to Earth’s realm for two hundred years. Here on Earth, time dragged by its rotation around the Sun. Eight point six-four, plus thirteen nanoseconds, equaled twenty-four hours, which equaled one day, which in turn, equaled point nine-nine-seven-two-eight-three-four-four ninth’s of a year. Which, one could easily round to one. However, that small slice of time added up to seventy-three thousand, forty-eight days. Gabe wasn’t worried about the four after the decimal because that was small in comparison. Out of time served, he had twenty thousand, one hundred and sixty minutes left to go on his sentence and then he could come and go between realms as his pleased. As long as he didn’t interfere with the threads of time, as he’d done in the past, and remained unseen to the souls of the living. 

Two fucking weeks. Then he’d be invisible to Earth’s realm, oh he could come and go as he pleased, as long as he was unseen. Invisible. Non-existent.

Gabe pushed through the double doors and walked into the War Room where Dravaggio waited. The other man sat relaxed at the head of the table, arms folded and resting on the glass, as his fingers tapped out some beat only he could hear. His purple eyes fixated on something past Gabe’s shoulder.

“Sir?”

The Captain’s eyes focused and nodded toward one of the empty chairs in the room. He cleared his throat.

“Glad you’re back. The last candidate will be here in a few minutes. I wanted to go over what I know of her.”

Her? All the possible replacements had been male thus far, not that he really cared about gender, but in the end, Gabe didn’t have time for entanglements. He’d seen it happen so many times when two people of the opposite gender worked in close quarters together. Lines were crossed and feelings began to bleed into the project. Not a chance. Leaving in a matter of weeks. That was the only security he had. He could explain up front, should she secure the job, that he was leaving and there was no use in either of them developing any sort of feelings for the other. Hopefully, she’d work out. All the other candidates had failed.

“Who is she?”

Dravaggio relaxed his shoulders and stopped drumming his fingers on the table.

“Kapua Hale.”

Hawaiian, that was definitely different.

“Tell me what you know about Hosts.”

“They host the Para-housed. Typically, they can be human but most of the time, there is something more about them. Humans view hosts as possessed. Most of the time, the unfortunates end up in institutions or suffer mental damage depending on the type of Para housed inside of them. They’re loners and to someone like me, can be extremely vulnerable, as it’s in my nature to take the soul and place it where it belongs.”

“Kapua Hale is all of the above. She was institutionalized as a child. She’s been out for four years, and from what Degas Deadcrest tells me, she’s a technical genius.”

Gabe would be the judge of that. Degas didn’t know the difference between what was considered a tech genius, or a walking textbook. There was a difference. The only question he needed answered when it came to Ms. Hale was, was she was any good?

“Sounds promising.”

Dravaggio nodded as the intercom alerted them to an incoming call.

“Go ahead.”

“Miss Hale to see you, sir.”

“Please have one of the team bring her down.”

“Yes, sir.”

Dravaggio looked up, a tight smile across his face.

“You talk, I’ll observe. If we get her to sign with us, then I’ll speak.”

“You gonna have her sign the new documents?”

The Captain nodded. There was a glint in his eyes. He could filter energy from anyone, but humans were more susceptible to his voice than immortals. Unless, he turned his voice up a notch, which the man was prone to do without even realizing it and it affected everyone. Now that Jes was part of the team, they’d had new contracts drawn up that they all signed in blood. It bound not only Dravaggio but also the signer. There would be no energy exchange unless it was mutual. But until she signed a contract, which was still up in the air, she’d would likely strip off her clothes at Dravaggio’s first opening sentence. It would obviously pose a problem.

2

“If we’re late Micah, I swear I’m never going to speak to you again,” Xee said, making her way to the address she’d written down. She’d woken up disoriented again and in a strange place. She did not know how she ended up three blocks away from her apartment in a bar. It made her angry, but most notably, scared. When she’d asked the bartender how she’d gotten there, he’d shrugged and continued wiping down the bar. Stupid fuck. Micah said he’d been sleeping and was just as discombobulated as she was. Whatever. Maybe she was sleep walking again. It had happened before, when she was younger.

“I promise we will make it on time.”

They had better.

Xee turned the corner and noticed the building right away. It was tall and non-descript, but she could see the words inscribed on the door and windows pulsing with a white glow.

“It’s warded, makes people hesitant to approach,” Micah explained. He was a good resource for all sorts of immortal information.

The guy on the phone told her to dress comfortably and she did. Dark distressed skinny jeans, holes on her knees and thighs and a black ribbed tank top that exposed not only her sleeve of Hawaiian tattoos, but also, her bare midriff with the yellow diamond hanging from her belly. She hadn’t taken out any of the hardware either. Lip, nose, eyebrows, and her entire left ear were adorned in jewelry. If she was truly meant to be comfortable, she was going to dress the part. To the T. The sleeve was from shoulder to elbow on her left arm and on her right side peeking from beneath her tank were her Rotheca Myricoides that trailed from underneath her armpit down to her hip. She knew the rest of her ink would show, but those two were the boldest. She did pin her hair up. The sides were shaved bald and it made her pompadour for her Mohawk ponytail perfect. She was make-up free, but she did opt for clear gloss on her lips. It was humid in the summers in Texas and it made her skin sticky. Regardless of it being said that humidity was good for the skin, it didn’t mean she wanted to feel like she had to shower multiple times a day because her clothes stuck to her body.

Xee walked up to the doors and pushed. Damn, it was a pull. “Relax; you have this interview in your pocket. I know Degas gave you a glowing recommendation,” Micah whispered in her ear. She tried to picture Micah from time to time, and what he must look like. To her, he was just a soul, but she could picture him giving her a mental push towards the door, giving her that shot of confidence she needed in order to land the job.

She stepped into the reception area, eyeing the secretary who looked like a 1920’s pinup poster girl. When she smiled, she saw the secretary for what she really was. She was a Siren with scaly pearlescent skin, wide lips, and a sharp row of teeth. Normally, it didn’t take her long to identify human from immortal, but that was not the case here. Living in a mental institution had given her plenty of time to research her so-called ailment. She could classify almost all demon and mythical immortals. She could even classify them according to original parentage if she tried hard enough.

“I’m here to meet with Stefan Dravaggio.”

The Siren nodded and pushed a button.

“Go ahead,” the deep voice over the intercom purred. His voice was potent, almost like a physical touch to her body. Shivering, Xee rubbed her arms. 

“Miss Hale to see you, sir.”

“Have one of the team bring her down.”

“Yes, sir.”

The siren disconnected the call and met Xee’s eyes; her voice was so annoying, even Micah mentally cringed.

Game face. Game face. We’ll get the job, she repeated to herself. Not for Micah’s benefit, but for her own.

“Someone will be here to get you.”

Xee nodded and sat down on a bench against the wall and waited as the siren called for someone to escort her to her meeting. She wasn’t nervous about the job, but more about her approach to people. She lacked the social skills that everyone else would have been introduced to. She could do the job, technical support and schematics were her thing, computers were her haven. It was the greetings and meeting her team that was the issue. Normally, when she would close down, Micah, the ever-talkative Para-housed would speak on her behalf. Most of the time it was hit or miss, as he was an epic asshole.

An elevator dinged to her left and out stepped an animal of a man. He was tall with silver eyes and long fangs, dressed in fatigues and a gray shirt. His eyes assessed her with keen intelligence. 

“Follow me.”

Game face.

The man grunted, but otherwise said nothing else.

“Damn, he’s a tall hulking male. Wonder what his job is?” Micah said into her mind. She wondered as well, but she’d been too busy trying to peg his kind. He looked more animal than man, and it wasn’t because of what he projected to her either. He was tall, she’d give him that, and he was bulky. Straight out of Marvel Comics, minus the green skin. Everything on him was more pronounced, bulging. It was the air of savagery he projected and the two front canine’s helped as well with them protruding out against his lower lip. They did not want to get on his bad side.

“Speak for yourself. I’m not afraid of him.”

“That could be because you wouldn’t feel anything and I would,” Xee responded.

“I like to blow shit up, but interrogation is my specialty,” the man responded, turning in Xee’s direction. Liquid silver penetrated what little calm she had left. He stared as if he could read her mind. “I can read minds, among other things. But your parasite is mouthy, makes me want to slap the shit out of him, but then again, it would do me no good,” the hulk said to her.

“Not my fault you’re manstrating, and Micah’s not a parasite,” Xee countered. Normally, she would not have said anything at all to the tall male, but if she intended to work for them, she couldn’t let them think they could walk all over her.

The male grunted again, but said nothing else. As they made their descent, the elevator finally stopped. She followed him down a hall that stopped at a double glass door.

“In there.”

He waited as she shouldered pass him into the room, gaining the attention of the men that waited.

Micah growled inside her head and Xee let out an audible curse. At the same time, the golden giant from the coffee shop cursed, while the other man looked between the two of them. It was the douche that took the last piece of the coffee cake at the shop.

“We need this job, Xee, chin up and just don’t touch him.”

“That’s a done deal. No worries there.”

The other guy at the table, with the mahogany dreads and intense violet eyes, nodded at one of the empty seats, waiting for her to sit. Dread head was a demon, but also a little something more. She could see the faint energy around him flickering on and off when Micah popped in with information.

“He’s an Incubus, but somehow he isn’t fed the same way the Incubi are. Can’t get much more than that.”

That was fine with her. The skin he wore didn’t match his true nature, which wasn’t far off the mark with what he presented to the outside world, but his eyes did. Right now, they looked violet, but in reality, they were black in color, soulless. This demon wore more than two skins.

“Ms. Hale,” the Angel sat back in his chair and waited for Xee to take a seat. “I’m Gabe. This is our Captain, Stefan Dravaggio.”

She didn’t say anything to the introduction, but sat down and waited for the interview to begin. Were they expecting her to say something? She eyed both men and cleared her throat waiting for someone to begin. “Tell them it’s nice to meet them,” Micah supplied. She wasn’t going to say something now, the time to have said something had already passed. She waited a beat more before relaxing in her seat.

Slowly, she folded her arms across her chest so she wouldn’t pick at her pant leg, then quickly unfolded them. She wasn’t supposed to cross her arms over her chest, it was a defensive move, she’d read that somewhere in some magazine. She blamed Gabe. He was the one that had taken her coffee cake at the shop, forcing her to leave with only a cup of coffee and no treat to satisfy her sweet tooth. She would have been perfectly able to function properly at this interview had she just had her morning breakfast. The least he could do was lead the conversation. This was why she couldn’t stand being around people, preferring her music and computers to social interactions. She didn’t know what to do or say in this situation. There were times when she didn’t even want to be bothered with Micah.

“Ms. Hale, before we go any further, we need you to sign this,” Gabe said sliding a thick piece of paper her way along with a pen. She eyed the paper. It was old. Vellum parchment she realized, after she pulled the paper closer so she could look at what she was signing.

“Don’t sign the paper,” Micah whispered in her head, but Xee ignored him, reading the words, going back over paragraphs to make sure she understood what it was she was signing. It had to do with security, which made sense; but also about the sharing of energy, which of course she opted out of. When she finished reading, Gabe spoke again.

“By signing this, you’re bound not to speak about what happens within the unit and should you; there will be an adverse reaction.”

“Such as?” Xee questioned.

Gabe sat forward leaning on the table, his eyes roaming over her face before he spoke.

“Memory loss for one, and you’re not to disclose the location or goings on in this building.”

Fair enough. Did this mean she had the job?

Xee grabbed the pen and when she pressed the top end to release the ink, something sharp pierced her thumb.

“What the hell?!” She placed the pen on the table and watched as her blood slid down into the top of the pen to rest inside the ink cartridge.

“Don’t fucking sign the paper, Xee. Come on we can find another way.”

“Another way? For what?”

“For money.”

“It’s just a blood contract. I can adhere to that. We really need this job.”

Blood contracts were forever binding in the immortal world. Well, most of the time. Why all of sudden Micah was punking out, was lost on her. He was really starting to get on her nerves. He was the one who found the job for them, and he was the one who’d been pushing her toward it. They needed the job and this was their only way out. To work for the Shadow Unit was a huge step up on the evolutionary ladder in the order of things. She’d learn new things that had to do with both technology, as well as magic.

“Sorry, it’s a blood binding contract.”

Duh, like she didn’t know what she was signing.

“Do you think I don’t know that, Angel boy?”

Dravaggio covered his laugh by coughing, but she knew he was making fun of her too. She could tell by the slight hunch of his back and the shaking of his broad shoulders that he was laughing.

“Please sign the contract, Ms. Hale, or we’ll have to ask you to leave.”

Xee grabbed the pen and quickly signed her name. The moment she did, she felt something thin settling over her skin.

“There, I signed your crummy paper.”

“Thank you, Ms. Hale; now, we can finally begin,” Dravaggio spoke the words, but it felt like a kiss against the shell of both ears, slowly caressing her skin and making its way down her spine to settle in her stomach. She shivered unable to control her reaction to his voice.

“What are you?” Xee whispered.

She got no response.

Gabe stood and walked the length of the table over to a large screen. Touching it lightly, the screen came to life showing a series of codes. To a novice, it was near impossible; but for her, it was child’s play. It was enough to distract her from whatever it was the demon made her feel.

“Can you decipher this? Once completed, I want the coordinates in its precise locale,” both Gabe and Dravaggio exited the room and left her to do her thing. Some was written and other parts were symbols she’d seen in a text she’d read a while back when she was locked up. Xee walked over to the screen and began pulling everything apart and then putting it back together so that it made sense. Seriously, who wanted to know about ancient Mesopotamia?

––––––––

IT WAS THE PUNK KID from the coffee shop, the girl that had given him his wood. Great, just great. Boyish in appearance except for well, everything else. Too much metal, not enough hair and her hair was pink! But there was definitely a woman under all the street clothes and tattoos. Even her tats were feminine. He found absolutely nothing attractive about her. Liar. Correction, he tried to find something unattractive about her, and failed miserably. Kapua Hale was an exotic blossom that he wanted to devour. Her name meant time of flowering. She definitely hadn’t hit her peak, and there was still a lot more beautiful left to go.

Gabe stretched his neck from side to side, hoping to get the kink out. Now that his time was short, his wings were getting heavier, filling out. On Earth’s plane, they weren’t noticeable unless he wanted to show them, but today, he decided to mask them for the sake of interviews. Now, he wished he hadn’t.

“How much time do we give her?” Dravaggio asked. They were in the office next to the War Room, with him pacing, and the Captain sitting behind his huge oak desk.

“She’ll never figure it out.”

Dravaggio bowed his head, letting out a tired sigh. Gabe understood the man’s weariness. Time was running out and they needed his replacement soon. Not to mention, they needed to locate the Sahidic. There was also the issue of the Hybrid Interlocking Vein Entrance. In short, the H.I.V.E was used as a mode of transportation between the different planes. The person that would fill his shoes would have to maintain the activity in the H.I.V.E, as well as handle all mission logistics, and maintain the buildings security, making sure that all hot spots remained closed for unwanted or violated travel. He wasn’t so sure she could pull that off. Or if the gatekeeper would allow her safe passage. She was only a little more than human.

“What about Cyrian?”

“I have him and the twins looking for as much information as they can about the Sahidic. Especially, since no one, so far, has been unable to decipher the code. The other units don’t have men to spare.”

“It will work out, my friend. I won’t leave you with your dick flapping in the wind.” Gabe just hoped he could stay true to his statement.

Dravaggio laughed and Gabe couldn’t stop the smile that appeared on his face. He wasn’t going to stress until the time came. It was either that, or he and Greyson were going to come to blows over what little time he would need to stay longer, if they couldn’t find the proper replacement.

“Let’s go check on her and see how she’s coming along.”

Dravaggio stood from his chair and both men made their way back to the War Room. Gabe was ready to go in and politely thank her for her time when he was rooted to his spot by what he saw on the screen. She’d decoded the formula, had given the exact location of what, they knew without a doubt, was the first step in finding the Sahidic. It didn’t matter that it had taken him days to figure it out, the mere fact that she was able to do it in minutes, attested to her skills.

“Give me something that actually makes me think,” Kapua boasted.

“Alright, blossom, you’ve got the job. I’ll have Ellie get you scanned in for security and one of the girls will get you situated here at the facility. Welcome to the Shadow Unit.”

What else was he going to do? He couldn’t let her walk out without giving her the job. She was going to be perfect, and in the two weeks it took to train her, he knew they would be able to locate the whereabouts of the Sahidic before he had to go back to his realm. He was sure of it.

Dravaggio stood at the door with a smirk on his face as he welcomed Kapua to the group.

“We’re glad to have you aboard, Kapua.”

“Xee, call me Xee.”

Dravaggio nodded.

“Good to have you on board, Xee,” the Captain corrected. She nodded once and Gabe could tell she wasn’t comfortable around people. Her eyes scanned everything, from the exit out of the War Room, to anything that could be of use to her should she need to make a hasty exit. She only gave the slightest responses and even smaller acknowledgements.

“We start first thing in the morning. For now, we’ll get you processed. Did you come in a car?” 

She shifted her shoulders before answering. “No, I walked.”

“Alright, one of the girls will arrange for you to pick up your things. For security reasons everyone on the team resides here on base.”

Again, she shrugged. “This place is better than the shit hole I live in. Lead the way, Angel boy.”

She really needed to stop calling him Angel boy. If she thought for a moment it irritated him, she was wrong. It had the opposite effect. He had to adjust himself before showing her where to go.

Gabe led her down the hall towards the elevator. He held the door open to allow her inside.

“Such a gentlemen,” she remarked under her breath.