Restraint (The Revelation Series Book 2) Page 20

  Without warning, we’re soaring through the pitch-black sky as Asher clings to my limp form. All the tension leaves him as he holds me close. I bask in his warmth.

  I’m placed gently on his stone state bed while he holds my neck so it’s tipped and he can look me in the eyes. “Get me some fresh clothes, a warm wet cloth and water,” he asks darkly.

  My eyes are still inflamed so it’s hard to see. “Why are we in Wiltshire?”

  “You weren’t able to heal yourself in the cell. Deacon had it spelled so you couldn’t use your abilities. You should start mending now, but I’m going to help the process along in stone state by transferring my healing energy to you,” Asher responds by holding a water bottle to my lips.

  The cool liquid feels amazing on my dry throat. “Drink it all, siren,” Asher says softly.

  When I’ve had enough, I pull my lips away. His hand guides my head back to rest on the luxurious down pillows.

  “Why don’t ye get sum rest, lad? I’ll wash and clean up da lass,” Fiona’s instructs.

  “I will not leave her,” Asher answers in a rough tone.

  Feeling his eyes on me, I look over to him. I reach my hand to his cheek. The stubble scratches my palm as he leans into it, closing his eyes.

  We stay like this the entire time Fiona cleans the cell grime from my body and redresses me in fresh clothing. Once she’s done, she pats my hand gingerly before leaving the chamber.

  Asher moves next to me on the bed, placing a cold compress over my engorged eyes. Then with great care, he cleans and bandages my cuts and bruises, kissing each one tenderly.

  Once done, he scoops me up and readjusts our bodies so he can lie next to me. Never letting go of my hand, he watches me with a concerned expression. “I’m so fucking sorry, siren,” he admits in a pained voice.

  I want to reassure him and tell him it’s not his fault. But my body isn’t cooperating, my throat’s too sore and I’m so tired. Instead, I just close my eyes and drift into a peaceful sleep.

  My eyes open to a dark room. Forgetting where I am for a moment, I begin to panic before strong hands wrap around me, and Asher’s deep voice penetrates the fear. “You’re safe. I’m here.”

  “How long have I been sleeping?” I ask him, my voice groggy.

  “A day or so. We’re keeping the room dark to help your eyes,” he says, trying to explain.

  Feeling less sore and stiff, I turn on my side so I’m face-to-face with him. “How long was I with Deacon?” I ask, noting he hasn’t taken his eyes off me. The soft glow calms my frayed nerves.

  Asher picks up a loose strand of my hair and begins to play with it. “A few days.” His face registers anguish.

  I exhale my relief. “It felt like months,” I say as I watch Asher, watching me.

  “Eve, aside from the exterior injuries, did…” His voice trails off before he finds it again. “Did he hurt you anywhere else?” he asks in a soft tone, hardly breathing.

  My throat squeezes at the realization of what he’s asking. I begin to tremble at the thought of what Deacon could have done. “No. Would it have changed anything if he had?” I frown.

  Asher’s hand stills, dropping the piece of hair. “Never,” he says in a soothing and firm tone. His fingertips brush away a tear from my cheek. “I promise you there will be no mercy for him. Only death.”

  I gaze into his eyes. “How did he get into the flat?” My voice cracks slightly.

  Asher sighs. He seems exhausted. “We don’t know. Keegan and Abby are still trying to figure that out. We’ll be staying here in Wiltshire until we do though. It’s more secure and Fiona has offered the extra security of the Pishyakan clowder.” The statement was meant to be reassuring, but I don’t feel at ease. “What we do know is that McKenna was ambushed and we got there a second too late.” His tone is solemn.

  Having had enough of the intensity, I put on a serious face. “Can I ask you for something?”

  Asher sits up and stares down at me. “I will give you anything in the world you want.”

  “Could I have a cheeseburger with bacon and tons of fries? I’m starving.”

  A small smile appears on his lips. “It’s yours, siren.” The answer is absolute as he places a small kiss on top of my head. “Feel up to heading to the kitchen?”

  I take a quick stock of how I feel. My eyes are no longer swollen, my body isn’t sore it’s just slightly aching. Overall, I feel a thousand times better than I did. “Yep, I feel much better.” I force a small smile when I see doubt cross his face.

  “Okay. But we’ll take it slow.” Asher reaches out his hand and I take it, allowing him to help me off the bed. As soon as I stand, I feel dizzy and wobbly. It’s probably just because I haven’t eaten in a few days and I’m dehydrated.

  Asher bends down and scoops me up. “Ash, I can walk. This is a little much.”

  He sighs. “Let me take care of you.” I hold his gaze, and all I see is torment. He’s blaming himself and I know he needs this to help him work through those feelings.

  “Well, what are you waiting for then? I’m starving here,” I announce as my stomach growls.

  Asher chuckles. “Then let’s get you fed.”

  20 Divine Intervention

  “I don’t think I’ve ever wanted you more than I do right this minute.” Asher growls as he watches me down my second bacon cheeseburger and third helping of fries. Amusement is plastered all over his face.

  I smile around my straw before swallowing my beverage. “Really? Out of all the things we’ve done recently, you’re picking this as the number one hottest?” Disbelief lines my question.

  Giving me his signature sexy smile, he drops his tone. “Well, maybe not THE number one, but I’m not going to lie to you, it is pretty fucking sexy, siren.” Shivers run down my spine at the sound of his voice as the butterflies take flight.

  He leans over the island and darts his tongue out, gently licking away some of the ketchup on the corner of my mouth before brushing his lips over mine. My body naturally leans into his as he smirks at me. “I can’t believe you didn’t have a boyfriend,” he throws out offhandedly as he returns to his seat across from me.

  I snort. “It’s not like you’re the first boy I’ve ever kissed, Asher,” I say, watching him watch me. He stands in one smooth, abrupt motion then moves around the room as if he’s on a mission, opening and closing drawers until he finds what he’s looking for. When he returns, he places a notebook and pen on the island and slides it over to me. I raise my brows in question.

  “Write down the names of all the others on a piece of paper,” he responds with a serious tone.

  I roll my eyes. “Why?” I ask in a suspicious pitch.

  Asher leans in, placing his elbows on the granite and giving me a very stern expression. “I’m going to end their existence,” he explains with a shrug.

  I muffle a giggle. “Seriously, you can’t do that. Besides, it’s not like I’m the only girl you’ve ever been with. You forget I’ve met Morgana,” I retort, unsuccessful at keeping the jealousy out of my voice.

  He gives me a crooked smile. “Don’t be envious, siren. She was a distraction from the mundane, as were all the others. They were available to satisfy physical needs, if you will. It was uncomplicated.”

  I try not to cringe or throw up my burger on him. “How romantic of you,” I say with sarcasm.

  His eyes lock onto mine. “You’re it for me, siren.” Damn him.

  I attempt to control the girlie desire to jump over the counter and plaster myself against his body. Instead, I grab a handful of fries.

  “Did you get the package I left for you from Kingsley College before all this happened?” he asks, observing me shove fries into my mouth with an unhealthy fixation.

  I bob my head while caressing each fry with my tongue before chewing it, just to tease him. “I did. It was basically the letter formally granting me a two-month bereavement leave for Aria.” My voice trails off for a moment before I catch myself
. “It’s conditional. I need to keep up with my spring semester classes online and physically return to class with the rest of the student body in March, after spring break.”

  Still watching my mouth with fascination, Asher clears his throat before flipping his eyes up to mine. “When does spring semester start?” I’ll give him credit. He’s making an effort to focus on me.

  “Next week,” I say, twisting my lips around my straw and sucking the liquid a little firmer than I normally would. A drop of liquid begins to slide down the straw so I decide to torture him some more and lick it with my tongue. Asher hisses in a breath.

  “By the grace, don’t you two ever stop?” Callan feigns annoyance as he comes in with his apron on. This one says: I rub my meat for two minutes. Then in smaller type: But enough about my grilling secrets. A loud laugh escapes my mouth and I almost choke on my fries. He looks down at his apron and gives me a mega toothy grin.

  “I couldn’t sleep and when I can’t sleep, I bake.” He shrugs as he pulls cookie ingredients from the pantry.

  “That’s our cue, siren,” Asher announces, snagging some of my fries and lacing his fingers with mine before tugging me off the chair and into his strong arms.

  I go to ask Callan if he wants any help but Asher widens his eyes and shakes his head in slow motion.

  “Good night, Callan,” I throw over my shoulder as Asher pushes me out of the kitchen. “Are you going to tell me what that was about?” I grill Asher as soon as we’re in the upstairs hallway.

  “There’s only one reason Callan can’t sleep and that’s from lack of relations with Abby. It’s best not to get involved. One year, they got into a huge fight and it was literally three months of cookies and entering baking contests,” he admits with quiet laughter.

  We stop in front of our doors. “Eww, Ash, way too much information. Not to mention, I will NEVER be able to eat another one of his cookies again, at least with a serious expression. Or any of his baked goods for that matter,” I say with a scrunched face and he laughs loudly.

  I just watch him, soaking in his relaxed demeanor and sparkling eyes. I wish he were like this all the time, content and stress-free.

  Asher just smirks and bites his lip. “Your room or mine?” he asks with a no nonsense air.

  “Huh?”

  He moves forward, pressing me into the wall. He leans in and drops his voice an octave. “Your room or mine tonight?”

  “Mine?” It comes out more of a question than answer.

  The right side of his mouth tilts up. “Good choice.” With that, he backs away and grabs my hand, steering us into my room. Inside, he leads me straight to the bathroom. Without saying anything, Asher prepares my toothbrush and his, loading both with toothpaste. As we brush, he hands me my floss and mouthwash. I smile at his gestures.

  Once done, he shuts the light and directs me towards the bed, guiding me into it and tucking me into his side. Shocking but even after all the sleep I’ve had, I’m still exhausted. “See you in the morning light, siren,” he says while drawing random patterns on my lower back with the tips of his fingers. I try not to focus on the crazy way my body stirs at his touch and close my eyes.

  The brightness from the room is shining through my eyelids, forcing me to open them. I sit up and rub the sleep from my eyes to find Michael positioned at the end of the bed. He’s looking very pissed off. The archangel is standing at his full height, shoulders back, arms crossed, staring down at the bed where Asher and I are, sleeping together. Crap.

  It’s at this realization I notice the light in the room isn’t just from the morning sun peeking through the curtains. It’s emanating from the warrior of Heaven himself. Crap. Crap. Crap. The muscle in Michael’s jaw is thrumming as a result of how hard he’s clenching his teeth.

  I shake Asher in an attempt to wake him. He moans and grabs at me to pull me back down. “If you want to touch me, siren, there is a place lower that is completely awake.” Oh. My. God.

  My entire face turns crimson as I pray to God to end my misery. “Asher,” I say in a deep voice and elbow him in the stomach. That gets him to sit straight up. “What the he—” He stops as soon as he sees Michael.

  “This is certainly an interesting turn of events, Mr. St. Michael. Is it standard practice for you to sleep with all of your charges after saving them from a kidnapping?” the archangel asks, staring daggers at Asher.

  “Well, Michael, since all of my previous charges have been male, no. It’s not typical.”

  I drop my head in my hands and groan. “It’s not what it looks like,” I say weakly.

  “I disagree, Eve. I do believe it is EXACTLY what it looks like. This is the second time I have caught you both scantily dressed and in a less than approrpiate position,” Michael lectures in a paternal tone. “Allowing your entrance into the Eternal Forest was not an open invitation for continued developments. You both have fifteen minutes to make yourselves presentable and join the rest of the protectors downstairs. Once again, we will discuss your conduct when you are fit to be seen.” He turns and storms out of the room.

  I drop my head in my hands in humiliation and wait for Asher to freak out. He doesn’t. Instead, he starts laughing hysterically. “What’s wrong with you? We just got caught in a compromising position by someone who once said, and I quote, relations between us would have dire consequences,” I scold.

  I watch him have his laughing fit. “That was before,” he says, throwing his muscular legs out of the bed and standing. Amused, he begins to put on his jeans and t-shirt.

  My eyes widen. “Before what?” I ask, perplexed at his sudden ease with getting caught.

  He walks over to me and cups my cheeks. “Before you were mine.” He plants a light kiss on my lips and moves toward the bathroom to finish freshening up. What the hell?

  We make our way downstairs to the kitchen. Asher fuses our hands together and is pulling me along like a puppy that refuses to be leashed.

  As soon as we get into the kitchen, I notice the large spread Fiona has prepared. I’m taken aback by the massive amounts of food, but then I become conscious that the counters are lined with baked goods. The sight is my downfall and I start laughing. Asher follows my sight line and smiles brightly before squeezing my hand in acknowledgment of Callan’s all-night baking session.

  The rest of the clan and Michael are already sitting at the table while Fiona fusses over them like a mother hen. She’s pouring coffee, clearing plates and refilling glasses. It is all so normal, until I remember I’m watching a panther, four gargoyles and one archangel.

  Kenna shoots daggers at us when she notices our clasped hands as we make our way to the table and join everyone. She snaps her eyes to Michael and then shifts them back to us in a warning. Asher ignores her and sits down directly across from the angel, forcing me to sit down in the seat next to him, never releasing my hand. It’s a statement, and to be honest, I’m a bit uncomfortable.

  He begins to fill a plate with all of my favorite things and places it in front of me. I squeak out a “thank you” before he plants a completely inappropriate kiss on me in front of everyone.

  “By de grace.” I hear Fiona exhale but I don’t dare look at her expression.

  Michael clears his throat to get our attention as the rest of the clan is frozen. “Am I to understand, Mr. St. Michael, that the daughter of Heaven is no longer simply a charge?” he asks with a cold, calculating stare.

  Asher sits tall and looks the blond haired angel in the eyes. “Eve is not merely a charge. She is my forever.” At his statement, I chance side-glances toward Keegan and Kenna. They look like they want to cut Asher’s head off. Shifting my eyes to the other side of the table, Callan and Abby are both pale. Callan looks like he’s going to puke and Abby is biting her lower lip like she wants to hide under the table.

  Without warning, the archangel jerks to his feet and releases his large, fluffy snow white wings, then storms around the table at us. Asher stands just as fast, pulling me up with
him and then protectively behind him. At the same time, Callan and Keegan are by our sides in a heartbeat, prepared to defend. The tension rises around us. All three gargoyles have their black wings out and are ready for battle.

  Michael steps to Asher, scowling. I inhale to keep from cowering. Asher stands tall, showing no sign of weakness. The furious angel lifts his hand as Callan and Keegan pull out their weapons. At the sound of the metal releasing, Asher holds up his free hand before throwing a look to his brothers that is clear. He is telling them to wait before striking.

  The archangel rests his palm on Asher’s head without permission. By the expression on his face, Michael is having a hard time with whatever visions he is experiencing. When he’s finished, he yanks his hand away as if burned. Some sort of internal discussion ensues between the prince of the gargoyles and the warrior of Heaven because the angel seems satisfied enough to retract his wings and return to his seat in a calm manner. Everyone else follows suit, but there’s a great deal of unease lingering in the air.

  Michael leans forward and places his folded hands on the table. “You both understand the consequences for such relations?” the warrior asks in an angry tone. I feel like a child who has been caught doing something wrong.

  “Yes,” Asher answers, tightening his grip on my hand and waiting for me to respond as well.

  “Yes,” I reply. As soon as the confirmation is out, Asher immediately relaxes.

  The angel nods his head once and we sit back down before Michael speaks again. “The reason I am here is because the Angelic Council has permitted me to do some exploration into the Declan clan. We’ve discovered they are working with someone very close to you. That is how Deacon was able to bypass the enchantments and get access into your London flat, knowing you would be else where.”

  At this information, Asher tenses next to me. “Are you saying we have a traitor in our clan who’s helping him?” You could hear a pin drop, the room is so quiet.

  “Perhaps not in the London clan, but yes, in a clan close to this family,” Michael confirms with authority and absolution. I wait for everyone to flip out. No one does though.