C H A P T E R E L E V E N
MADDOX
S till hazy from the intensity of coupling with his witch, Maddox barely noticed the knock at the door, or Killian accepting the sandwiches from Frank and coming back to bed. “Are you all right?” Killian asked as he shed his robe once more and brushed his lips against Maddox’s jaw.
“I’m...wonderful.”
The celestial token on the nightstand glowed, the light almost pulsing, and Maddox stretched over Killian. As soon as he closed his fingers over the relic, he was ripped away from the witch and found himself standing naked in front of Azrael.
The archangel crossed his arms over his massive chest. His gaze roved up and down Mad’s body.
“Maddox. What do you have to say for yourself?”
Oh, shit.
Azrael frowned. “That sort of language is not appreciated here.”
Despite the archangel’s warning, the words ran on repeat in Maddox’s head, and he covered his cock with his hands, since he’d been half-hard pressed against his witch. “I am sorry, Azrael. There was a curse…”
“You’ve failed, Maddox. In every way. Losing the celestial sand, choosing to stay on earth past the time you were allotted, and…that.” Azrael nodded to Maddox’s cupped hands. “You are an angel of the celestial realm. We do not have sex with those who are of the earth.”
“I’m half-human. So, clearly, we do,” Maddox retorted. “My mother—”
“Your mother was banished for her actions, fell in love with a demon, and died for it.”
Maddox took a step back as his eyes started to burn. He’d never known his mother or his father, only Sinclair. After his mother had died, the archangel Michael had brought Sin to the celestial realm, and the two brothers had been inseparable until Sin decided to try to find his father and had, instead, met La Fiura. “Send me back, Azrael.”
“Why? So you can further these…human endeavors? The sand is gone. There is no reason for you to go back to earth.” The archangel turned, but Maddox lunged for his arm. Azrael arched a brow and glared at Mad’s fingers wrapped around his robes. “Choose your next words very carefully, Maddox.”
Azrael’s anger was a physical presence, almost as imposing as the archangel himself. Maddox scrambled for a legitimate reason to return to earth, stammering until Azrael yanked his arm free. Then it hit him.
“The witches believe Killian took the sand. They’ll kill him for it. I have to fix this, Azrael. Otherwise, my soul will forever bear the stain of his death. Please. Let me return to the earthen realm to fix this.”
Azrael frowned. “I cannot argue with your desire to make things right. However, if you do not return to the celestial realm in two earth days, the doorway will close, and you will live the rest of your life—however long that may be—on earth. You will keep your wings, and you will age slowly. But your body will eventually become mortal. Do not make this decision lightly, Maddox. If you stay on earth, you will die. And then…your soul will make the same trip as all the others. Whether you wish it to or not.”
KILLIAN
Four hours. He’d paced and prayed for four hours, waiting for Maddox to return and hoping the whole time he wasn’t gone for good. But he knew. Deep down, he knew Maddox had returned to the celestial realm without even saying goodbye.
The sheets still smelled like Maddox, like their coupling, and more than once, Killian found himself crushing the pillow to his chest. He’d been a bloody fool. Giving his heart to the angel, knowing Maddox would have to return to his own realm... But he’d thought, maybe...after what they’d shared, Mad would at least stick around for a day or two. Long enough for them to fuck one another in every manner possible.
Checking the time, Killian groaned. Almost five in the evening. If he were going to ring Beatrix, he needed to do it now.
“It’s about bloody time,” she said when the call connected. “Some no-good git curses the lot of you at the ball and you wait almost a full day to call me? I thought you were smarter than that, Killian.”
“In the past twenty hours, I’ve been cursed—which, by the way, destroyed my dampening cuff— rescued an angel after he stole celestial sand from the crypt under Magnolia House, been summoned, questioned, and locked in the coven’s dungeon, hit by a spell the likes of which I’d prefer never to feel again, and have been branded with a pair of wings. Pardon me if I haven’t been the most communicative bloke on the planet.”
Magic sparked from his fingertips, and he groaned. “I need help, High Priestess. I can’t control my magic without the cuff, and I feel like I’m about to come out of my skin.”
Beatrix’s voice gentled. “You won’t, Killian Wade, because you know what happens when you lose control. But you are also too smart for your own good, I think.”
“What are you on about?” Killian sank back down onto the bed and ran a hand through his hair. Fuck. He missed Maddox. Missed the angel’s calming presence, his touch. His voice.
“You were born under a Blood Moon. That, combined with the specific circumstances of your birth mean your magic is the strongest of this age. But you were always frightened of it.”
“And why should I not be? I killed a vampire, High Priestess. Oliver should have been much stronger than I could ever be. And one spell took his life.”
“Magic does not exist in a vacuum, Killian. It depends on our emotions, our very life force, to exist and do its work. The man you thought you loved was about to die, and you tried to protect him. Had you done nothing, he would have died anyway.”
