Restraint (The Revelation Series Book 2) Page 13

  “Did you order biryani?” It’s my favorite.

  “I did. There’s also tandoori chicken, samosa, chole-bhature, malai kofta, dal makhani, and naan. Want a beer?” he asks, getting up.

  “Holy crap, Asher. That’s a ton of food, but I think I love you,” I blurt out. Oh shit.

  Silence. “I was…hungry.” There’s an edge to his voice. I need to find a rock to crawl under.

  A few moments later, he returns with two glasses and hands one to me. “Thanks. I-I didn’t mean what I…I just meant that…what are we watching?” I chicken out.

  “Anything you’d like,” he says, ignoring my lack of clarity.

  I grab a piece of flatbread and dip it into the tandoori sauce. “Comedy?”

  “American Pie marathon?”

  I nod my agreement as he grabs the remote and we settle in for a relaxing, ordinary evening.

  Halfway through American Wedding, I fall asleep. I know this because I just woke up in desperate need of water. My mouth is dry from all the curry we ate. I look around the dark room and realize I’m in the guest bed. Asher must have carried me in here. Crap.

  I throw off the silky sheets and swing my legs over the side of the bed, preparing myself to head to the kitchen in search of water. After snagging a bottle from the fridge, I go into the sunken living room. Everything is dark but the lights of London are twinkling around Hyde Park and I’m mesmerized. I sit on the couch and bask in the dark abyss that is the night sky. These windows are really amazing. Asher’s dad knew what he was doing. It’s like the London clan of gargoyles can watch over the entire city and its people. Protecting them.

  “Siren?”

  I turn my head and notice Asher looking adorable and sleepy. His hair is all messy and his indigo eyes are drowsy as he rubs them. I push down the urge to jump him.

  I hold up my water bottle. “Sorry, I was thirsty. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

  He moves to the couch and sits down. “You didn’t. I was having trouble sleeping.”

  Asher grabs my water bottle and chugs it.

  “Help yourself.”

  “I did.” He smirks cockily.

  We’re silent for a moment before he speaks. “I’m sorry for snapping at you when we were in the Eternal Forest. You, trying to search my thoughts, it caught me off guard. I didn’t mean to act like a jackass.”

  I wave my hand in dismissal. “It’s fine.”

  He sighs. “No, Eve, it’s not. I forget that sometimes you don’t understand how things work in my world. Mind sharing is something that’s only done between mates. That said, I should have explained that to you, not gotten pissy.”

  My eyes shift to him. “I get it.”

  He holds my gaze for a moment. “I’m also sorry for freaking out when Priestess Arabella told us I’m the reason you can heal yourself and not Michael. I was completely blindsided on that one.” He exhales a sharp breath. “You have no idea what I felt in that moment.”

  I scan his face, my voice barely above a whisper. “Tell me.”

  He just stares at me. “Transferring abilities means our link is getting stronger, and truthfully, that fucking freaks me out, siren.”

  My heart clenches at his words. I move my hand toward his face and cup his stubbly cheek. Asher closes his eyes and leans into my touch before jumping off the couch so fast I have to blink a few times to absorb what I witnessed. Standing by the glass doors that lead to the patio, he rubs his face in frustration before pushing his hands through his hair.

  “I should be able to exhibit more self-control when it comes to you. When we came out of the stone state, what I did wasn’t fair. I don’t regret it, but I shouldn’t have let it happen.” He turns to me. The moonlight bouncing off his face shows it’s marred in pain. “It’s just, when I’m with you…you make me feel things.” He pauses before pinning me with an intense stare. “I thought you were an amazing creature before we…but what you are is far more enchanting.” With that, he turns and leaves.

  I swallow the unmerited hurt and sink into the couch, alone in the moonlight.

  13 Introductions

  There’s a painfully bright light behind my eyelids and my face is warm, too warm. I groan and throw the furry blanket I’m under over my head, relieved for the darkness it provides. Just as I start to fall back to sleep, I hear a light rumbling from behind me. Curious, I throw the covers back off and open my eyes. Crap. I fell asleep in the sunken living room last night. The sunshine is pouring in from all three walls of glass. Ugh. I thought it rained in London all the time.

  “Not a morning person, siren?” Asher’s deep voice penetrates my sleepy fog.

  I growl. I throw the blanket off and stand, stretching. The smell of coffee forces me to turn around. Asher is standing there looking all bed headed and delicious. Damn him. He smirks knowingly.

  Holding his mug out to me, he asks, “Coffee, sunshine?”

  “Yes. Please,” I whine.

  He chuckles, moving toward the kitchen. I follow him, not caring how my hair looks or that I haven’t brushed my teeth yet. I sit on a stool at the island and he places a cup in front of me.

  I lift it to my lips and moan in pleasure. “Oh. My. God. Asher.” My eyes close. When they reopen, Asher is leaning against the counter, ankles crossed, coffee mug stopped right before his lips and an odd expression plastered on his face.

  “What?” I ask, wiping my face, thinking I have sleep drool on it.

  He swallows hard. “Um, I need to go. I mean, go shower. Yeah, shower.” With that, he scatters out of the kitchen, quickly. Okay.

  After making myself some breakfast and cleaning up the dishes, I head toward the guestroom to shower and dress. As I enter the hallway, I notice Asher’s bedroom door is ajar. Inquisitiveness gets the best of me as my eyes shift to the open slit. I see Asher sitting at his desk wearing only jeans.

  His bare chest glistens with drops of water from his shower. The tattoos stare back at me as if they want me to trace them with my tongue. I snap my eyes shut. Eve, focus! I walk quickly to my room and clean up with the coldest water I have ever used.

  I throw on my jeans, knee-high boots and black cotton shirt, pulling my thumbs through the holes in the sleeves before putting on the necklace Asher gave me. He had my aunt design it for me at Christmas. It’s a sterling silver feather lying on its side. I brush out my long, light brown hair, throw on some make-up and my favorite gloss and meet up with Asher in the living room. He’s put on a white t-shirt with his jeans and motorcycle boots. Leather bands are secured on each wrist.

  “Keegan would like us to go down to flat one. Some of the other clans are starting to trickle in and we need to be there to greet them,” he explains.

  “Okay.” I chew the inside of my cheek. At my nervous habit, he stalks over to me and rubs my bottom lip with his thumb, stopping the addiction.

  Dipping his chin, he gives me his ‘it’s going to be all right’ face. “You’ll be fine, siren.” He grabs my hand and tugs me toward the door, stopping right before he opens it. Asher turns his head to me, and smiles smugly before chuckling at my shyness.

  As soon as he opens the door, a black blur jumps at him. It’s squealing and forces him to release my hand. Whatever it was, bounded in so hard it pushed Asher against the wall. Panicked, I unsheath my daggers, ready to attack. Then I hear it speak and my stomach drops.

  “Asher, baby, I’ve missed you so much.” A female voice drifts over to me.

  Pulling myself together, I register a petite girl draped over him. Her waist-length, shiny, stick straight, black hair dangles over his hands, which are wrapped around her body. My eyes roam upward, from the side. All I see is hair and then her tongue down Asher’s throat. My blood begins to boil as Asher comes to his senses and pushes her back.

  As if in a daze, he shakes his head. “Morgana?”

  Her brown eyes look up at him through dark, long lashes as she bites her red lips with her perfectly white teeth. Ugh, I hate her already. “Miss
me?” she coos.

  At that, I clear my throat. Rather angrily. This seems to snap Asher out of his fog because he shoots me a look with wide eyes then shifts his vision to my daggers and then Morgana. “Um, sure. It’s surprising to see you again.” Really? That’s the best he can do.

  She scrunched up her nose. “You mean, a pleasant surprise, right?” Her red nails run over his chest. At the gesture, he moves toward me, signaling for me to deweapon myself.

  I arch a brow. “Er, Eve, this is Morgana. She’s with the Manhattan clan. Morgana, this is Eve Collins, my current assignment.” Ouch. My current assignment. Insulting.

  She snorts. “The human created by Heaven?”

  “The one and only,” I reply coolly.

  Morgana takes a warrior stance. “You don’t look like anything special.”

  I let my eyes scan her from the bottom up. “Neither do you.”

  Asher lets out an awkward breath. “We should get down to the flat to meet with everyone.”

  None of us move. “Okay, then.” Asher walks out the door toward the elevator. Leaving the drop-dead gorgeous gargoyle and me in a stare off. She huffs then brushes past me after him. I roll my eyes and follow them, clenching my hands around my crossed arms tightly so I won’t claw her eyes out.

  We walk into the first floor loft and everything is dark gray and black. The walls, the floors, even the modern leather furniture. Though the layout is similar to Asher’s, this floor feels more like headquarters than a home. Where the sunken room is in Asher’s place there is a conference room. It’s filled with people.

  As soon as Callan sees me, he rushes over, but not before his eyes widen in shock when he sees Morgana attached to Asher’s side like velcro.

  “Hey, cutie.” He pulls me into a bear hug and bends down, whispering. “All okay?”

  I plaster on a fake smile and nod. I notice McKenna snag Morgana into a big hug. Of course they’re friends.

  Callan wraps his arm around my shoulder and walks me into the room. Suddenly, it goes quiet and everyone stops what they’re doing to stare at me. Abby moves to my other side.

  “If you all would kindly take a seat, we can begin,” Keegan states.

  “Eves, you can sit between Abby and I,” Callan offers.

  “She will sit by me,” Asher says, his voice full of authority. Very prince-like.

  Callan gives him a pointed look then slides his eyes to Morgana and back to me. “All right.”

  Asher moves toward me and places his hand on the small of my back. I move away without looking at him and without speaking, choosing the seat between Callan and Abby.

  He’s forced to take the last open seat between Morgana and McKenna. I smile to myself before I look up and see his pissed off face. I throw an angry smirk at him and in return he narrows his eyes at me. Childish? Yes. Deserved? Absolutely.

  Pleased with his seat choice, Morgana smiles and looks up at him like a puppy dog. Bitch.

  Keegan begins. “I’d like to start by welcoming and thanking each clan for joining us today. We know how busy everyone is and we’re grateful you’ve taken time to assist us with our latest assignment.”

  Callan interrupts, “And newest family member.” At his added statement, my heart soars.

  “I’d like you to meet Eve Collins, daughter of Heaven. She’s under the protection of the London clan.” Keegan introduces me from the head of the glass table and my cheeks tint pink. “Asher is her protector.” At the declaration, Morgana snorts. What the fuck is this gargoyle’s problem?

  A heavy-set, older bald man stands. Half of his face is hidden behind a long and thick red beard. His bright green eyes twinkle warmly at me and his round cheeks lift, enhancing the freckles that span the entirety of his face.

  He bows to me. “Dia duit, daughter of Heaven. I am Angus, head of da Irish clan, and Abby’s uncle.” Angus’s voice is gruff and heavily accented. He motions to his left. “My second in command, my son, Thomas.” At the introduction, a tall, lanky thirty-something guy stands. His hair is short and reddish blond, the same color as his petite beard. He’s wearing black jeans, a black hooded sweatshirt and a leather jacket over the sweatshirt. “Eve.” He nods toward me. I smile.

  The young Irishman sits and another older gentleman stands. This one reminds me of a Viking. His long gray beard and mustache hit the middle of his broad chest. He’s huge and muscular like a wrestler. He has blue eyes that match McKenna’s sapphire ones.

  “I am Griffin, or ‘Griff’ as me friends call me, ledah of da Scottish clan and McKenna’s kin. Me second en command, Sean.” His deep brogue booms. Sean stands. He is really tall and also very muscular. He has his hair shaved on each side of his head and a dirty-blond braid in the middle of his head that continues down his back that contains the rest of his hair.

  He too bows to me. “Nice tae meit ye, Eve.”

  I smile again and wave in return.

  Finally, an incredibly, hot and young, maybe late-twenties, African-American guy stands and turns his brown eyes to me. This guy could be a model. He’s so beautiful. Brown eyes smiles brightly and offers me his hand. “Hi, Eve. I’m Marcus, leader of the Manhattan clan.”

  “Nice to meet you.” I like him instantly.

  “My second in command, Morgana.” She waves wickedly at me as I shift my focus back to Marcus. He surprises me by offering an apologetic smile.

  Asher begins to explain what Priestess Arabella told us with regard to Lucifer and the Declan clan. Plans are divised for how to recruit informants and weed out those working with Deacon.

  Callan leans into my ear conspiratorially. “Eves, stop drooling over Marcus. You aren’t his type.”

  “What do you mean?” I whisper back.

  “I think Asher or I tend to be more of what Marcus prefers in a mate.” His eyes twinkle.

  “Oh.” I roll my eyes and meet Marcus’s brown irises as he winks. Damn gargoyles.

  After being briefed and enduring a few hours of strategizing, we’re all taking a break while munching on the pizza Abby ordered. Of course, Morgana hasn’t left Asher’s side. I internally cringe at her desperation.

  I scrunch my napkin up heatedly. “How could he not tell me he had a girlfriend?”

  Abby’s eyes widen. “You mean Morgana? Eve, she isn’t his girlfriend.”

  “Mate-to-be?” I ask.

  Abby shakes her head. “Eww, no. They have a history but it’s been over for forever now.”

  I cross my arms. “That’s not what it looked like when she jumped him at his front door.”

  Abby laughs. “Well, she is a lover of the dramatics. She’s really close to McKenna.”

  “Of course she is.” I sigh.

  I look up to see Asher watching me. Something flashes across his face that I can’t quite place. His indigo slits just stare at me as he begins to move toward me, his eyes never leaving mine. My hands close into angry fists as I take a step back, needing to retreat.

  He stops within a breath of me, the tip of his nose brushing mine. My breathing has ceased as his eyes hold mine, searching.

  In a low voice, he bends near my ear. “Are you jealous, siren?” Crap. He heard Abby and I.

  I bark out a short laugh. “No.”

  His head cocks to one side as a smug smile appears on his lips. “Really?”

  “Yes.” My hands become numb from how hard I’m clenching them.

  He reaches for me and I sidestep his grasp. The last thing I want or need is his touch. He straightens and glances at me, perturbed. Good, he should be.

  “You should get back to your girlfriend.” I look over his shoulder at Morgana. She’s shooting daggers my way. “Although, she might not be so understanding about what happened between us during your last stone state.”

  Asher’s expression hardens. “Come. With. Me.” He growls and grabs my elbow, dragging me from the room, down the hall and out the door toward the elevator. He doesn’t speak the entire time. He just pulls me like a rag doll behind him, u
p the elevator to the fifth floor, through the hallway, slamming the door shut behind us.

  Roughly, he pushes me against the wall. He lifts his hands and pins on either side of me, caging me in as his lips descend on mine in a punishing and painful expression of his sentiments. The length of his muscular body presses against me as his knee finds its way in between my legs.

  After a mind blowing, long kiss, he snaps his head back only to move his lips forward again, nipping at my bottom lip. This time, he doesn’t soothe the pain he’s causing.

  Asher moves his hands from the wall to the sides of my head, holding me in place so I’m forced to look at him. His breath on my lips, he says, “Let me be very clear about something, siren. She means nothing to me.” His voice is hoarse. “You. Mean. EVERYTHING!” he whispers, enunciating each word.

  That’s the second time in about a minute he’s taken my breath away. I just stare at him, stunned, while we catch our breath and he tries to rein in his emotions. I close my eyes and move my head up and down. “I believe you.” I pant across his lips.

  I feel him slowly relax. His hands loosely tangle in the hair at each side of my face while his thumb rests on my swollen lips. I latch onto his arms and allow my tongue to dart out and lick his thumb. Swallowing, he bends his finger so it’s in my mouth, allowing me to close my lips around it. Twirling my tongue over the tip and sucking it. Asher lets out a primal rumble.

  Someone begins knocking at the door. “Asher? It’s Marcus. I need to speak with you.”

  Asher closes his eyes before he lets out a long breath. “Fuckkkkk.”

  I gently bite the tip of his finger, causing the blue hue of his eyes to darken. “Do that again, siren, and I will be forced to take you right here against the wall.”

  I smile, knowing he wouldn’t do that but pleased with myself for having that effect on him.

  “Don’t think I won’t,” he teases as I release his finger.

  I chew the inside of my cheek as he backs away, causing him to smirk at where he knows my thoughts are.