His Guardian Angels 5
Angelic Alliances
A week to prepare for battle hardly seems like much, but a week is all Madigan Parker and his lovers have to prepare for the battle to
save Urun. Awakening Madigan's powers is just the beginning as the former baker gives himself over to the trainers to make him the
leader of an army before the week is out. Practicing with Scepta enables him to achieve more than he ever thought possible, but new
power brings new gifts and problems that he wasn’t expecting to deal with.
As Madigan learns more about himself and his angelic powers, his lovers try to hold the fear of failure at bay as they work toward their
goals. When Madigan finally starts to believe that he might actually be able to win the unwinnable, his lovers reluctantly start to feel that
same hope. However, as the pawns fall neatly into place, unexpected challengers and new allies may end the war before it's even begun.
NOTE! You are purchasing Siren's serialized imprint, the LoveXtreme Forever Series. This is Book 5 of the His Guardian Angels
collection. These books are not stand-alone. Each is a continuation of the previous book and must be read in the numbered order. Each
book may end on a cliffhanger but usually with a happy for now for the beta hero and one or more men. The final book contains a
happily ever after for the beta hero and all his men.
Genre:
Alternative (M/M or F/F), Fantasy, Ménage a Trois/Quatre
Length:
35,208 words
ANGELIC ALLIANCES
His Guardian Angels 5
Jana Downs
LOVEXTREME FOREVER
MANLOVE
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: LoveXtreme Forever ManLove
ANGELIC ALLIANCES
Copyright © 2013 by Jana Downs
E-book ISBN: 978-1-62740-372-6
First E-book Publication: August 2013
Cover design by Les Byerley
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ANGELIC ALLIANCES
His Guardian Angels 5
JANA DOWNS
Copyright © 2013
Chapter One
Madigan blinked back spots as a dozen camera bulbs went off in his face. Scepta stood at the
podium, staring out at the center camera, the one that would broadcast on the private channel in Urun.
“By now you will all have heard the news about the sanctuary cities that have fallen,” he said, his
voice filled with more humanity than Madigan had ever heard in it. As the son of an archseraphim, he
was very otherworldly most of the time. “The hunters are coming.” A gasp circulated the crowd, fear
evident on each and every face there. “They plan on ridding the world of us one city at a time, and in
the past there was little way that we could stop it.” He stepped to the side, and Madigan stepped
forward. “However, the time has come when things need to change. Madigan is a new resident to our
fair city, but he is no less passionate about its protection.”
“What can he offer us? He’s just another nephilim,” one of the reporter-bloggers from the back
of the pack said. “Only good for cannon fodder.”
“Madigan Parker is the son of Archangel Raphael,” Scepta said, his tone scathing. “He has been
predicted to lead us.” A dozen people immediately started shouting questions.
Madigan figured that was his cue to say something. He stepped up to the mike, jostling Scepta
aside. His lovers were in a line behind him, holding a hard pose with eyes diligently scanning the
area. He felt comforted by their presence. “I’m a simple guy,” he said as the screamers quieted.
“Once upon a time I was a baker who had zero clue about this world or the dangers in it. I don’t want
to hurt people, and I sure as hell don’t want to be the spokesman of an entire race. However”—he
pointed toward the sky—“there are monsters who have taken it upon themselves to hunt me and
everyone like me. For too long they’ve been allowed to kill without regulation, without remorse.
Either we take a stand now or we accept our fate as second-class citizens in a cosmic universe that
will only end with our extinction.” He took a deep breath before making what he could only describe
as a declaration of war. “I will fight for my right to live on this planet, but I can’t force others to do
so. If you want to join me, we will be training for the battle.”
“We’ll be slaughtered!” a voice shouted from the crowd.
Madigan shook his head. “Not this time.” Now, Father. The archangels blinked into existence
behind him, and a gasp percolated through the crowd. He’d wager that none of them had ever seen
them together all at the same time. “My father and my uncles have graciously agreed to offer their
services during the campaign. We’ll post more information as soon as it becomes available.” The
entire congregation exploded into a chorus of questions, but Madigan was done talking. They’d had
the big reveal. Now it was up to everyone else to make up their minds that there was hope in this
situation.
Cross was by his elbow the second he stepped away from the podium, and the rest of his lovers
surrounded him in a wall of sturdy flesh. He saw the telltale color of love and pride emblazoned
across their auras, and he was more than a little proud to call them his own. Oddly, he felt the
nervousness of before fading away. This was exactly as it was meant to be. The archangels fell in
behind them, and Madigan felt their powers bump against him, the electrical output jarring to his
senses. He rubbed his arms at the sensation.
“I’m proud of you, bright eyes,” Bren rumbled by his side. His dark-haired, black-eyed lover
was looking at him like the sun rose and set with him.
“Did I sound okay?” he asked as they passed under the archway of the door that led into the
lobby of Urun’s tallest building at the city’s center. It was where they were operating out of, and it
was also where they were going to be training. The training facility that Marius and his lovers had set
up would be overrun with nephilim and their angelic counterparts in the next few days. Madigan was
being trained by Daisis, the archseraphim who ran Urun, himself. It was a big honor and apparently
the quickest way for them to be able to get Madigan battle ready. He swallowed at that thought. He
still had issues wrapping his mind over that particular facet of his new role in this life of his.
“You did wonderfully, son ,” Raphael said from behind him. The guardians fanned out, giving
them more space. He felt rather than saw Gabriel, Michael, and Uriel leave. Only Lucifer and
Raphael remained. “You spoke with passion and gave them hope.”
Lucifer draped his arm around Madigan’s shoulders, and Madigan nearly jumped out of his skin.
“You declare war very prettily, Madigan darling. I wonder though, can you keep up the image when
people around you start to die?” Lucifer didn’t sound like the other archangels unless he was trying.
He sounded more human somehow.
“Luc!” Raphael snapped, an angry growl in his voice.
Lucifer just offered an easy grin at the spat. “He needs to consider it, Raphael. It’s stupid to
think he is immune to war’s consequences.”
“My lord, get off my lover,” Bren rumbled, taking a protective step in Madigan’s direction.
Madigan’s mind raced. He really didn’t need a squabble to start in the middle of the lobby.
Since his powers had been unlocked, touching or being around the archangels wasn’t really a
problem. Everyone was on edge and needed to chill. So he did the only thing he could think of doing
and wrapped his arm around Lucifer’s waist and gave it a squeeze. “I can handle him, Bren. He just
likes fucking with everyone’s head.” He met the devil’s eyes unflinchingly. “Am I right?”
Slowly, Lucifer inclined his head and his grin widened. “Very good, Madigan. Wars happen.
Death happens. It’s a continual cycle. This is nothing compared to the wars I’ve seen in hell. All of
the grim attitudes are almost humorous to me.”
“Liar,” Madigan said, calling him on it. “You hate this as much as we do. You’re just better at
shrugging it off or putting your fear on someone else than we are. Stop being a dick and knock it off.”
“Or what?” Lucifer asked, a deadly note in his tone.
“Or you don’t get any of the cookies I’m baking for the war meeting,” Madigan huffed. What did
the angel expect him to do? Slug him? Please. He wasn’t nearly suicidal enough for that.
The archangel of the underworld threw back his head and laughed. “Oh, Bren, I like him. A lot.
You must bring him home sometime soon after this business is concluded.” He was intensely relieved
when the devil let him go and blinked out of existence.
“Lucifer’s sense of humor is unpleasant ,” Raphael murmured apologetically. “He isn’t very
good in social situations.”
“I don’t know. I kind of think he’s funny,” Scepta cut in, appearing by the elevator. The son of
the archseraphim Daisis was as beautiful and put together as ever. His red hair and copper eyes
mimicked his father’s good looks to a degree, but the otherness that clung to him was on a completely
other level than even Raphael’s. He was a bit too much like his own dad.
“You would,” Cross grumbled. “Both of you have the same sense of humor as most snakes I
know.” The big guardian commander didn’t much care for Scepta ever since the healer claimed to
have been romantically involved with Raphael. Apparently Cross just couldn’t handle the idea of his
superior doing the horizontal tango with Scepta. Madigan didn’t have an opinion either way. Scepta
had saved Yuri’s wings and had helped save Cross’s life. He owed the man. Period.
“Cross, stop,” Madigan commanded. He was getting tired of dealing with a bunch of grown men
acting like little kids. He rubbed his temples as a headache started to form. The walls seemed to lose
their solidity and started to melt and glow with their own weird energy. His mind started drifting out,
feeling the world around him with his sixth angelic sense. Raphael and Scepta were like two neon
torches in a sea of cool blues and greens. Even his guardians were running only on a purple frequency
instead of a human yellow or the blazing white of archangel and half-nephilim, half-archseraphim.
Michel’s hand came down on his neck and squeezed. “Shh, settle, Madigan.” Everything
solidified as his lover pulled him back into himself. “You did good through the conference.”
Madigan nodded. “Thanks. The light flashes were hard, but I kept it together.” He shook his
head. “I don’t know why I’m slipping now.”
“Stress,” Yuri piped up, coming up on his other side. “You’re trying to juggle us, and you
shouldn’t have to be.” He looked pointedly over at Cross. “Commander?”
Cross gave a curt nod. “Fine. I’ll behave if he does.”
Scepta smiled, the expression strange on his face somehow. “I always behave.”
Raphael cleared his throat. “I know that is untrue. Behave, Scepta.”
Scepta looked startled to be addressed by Raphael at all, and Madigan was shocked to see a
look of pure, unadulterated longing cross Scepta’s face an instant before it was smoothed over in a
mask of indifference. He gave a half bow. “Of course, my lord.” He hit the button for the elevator,
and the doors dinged as it arrived.
Raphael nodded. “Then I will leave you all here. Enjoy your first lesson, Madigan.” With that
he was gone. Scepta visibly relaxed when he was gone. Madigan filed that away for another
conversation with his father at a later date. They had a week before all of hell broke loose, an apt
Milton expression for the situation, and they needed to be prepared.
They piled into the elevator, and it was a surprisingly silent ride to the penthouse suite where
Scepta and his three fathers lived. The Mediterranean-style suite was done in stark white and blues. It
was quite beautiful but vastly different than the townhouse he and his men had bought together. His
heart broke as he thought about how little time they’d had in their new home. It had been no time at all
in comparison to everything else. The possibility that they would die and it would remain empty just
didn’t sit well with him.
Someone wrapped their arms around his shoulders, and he immediately identified them as Dex’s
strong arms. He was the tallest, gruffest of the bunch but the gentlest as well. Dex was very attuned to
his moods. “Don’t get hopeless on me yet, sweetheart,” Dex whispered. “You are going to be an
amazing warrior.”
“I don’t know if I want to be a warrior,” Madigan whispered. “I just want to go home and live
with you guys.”
“I understand, Madi,” Dex said, giving him a squeeze. “Everything will be fine.”
“Don’t start doubting yourself now, Madigan,” Scepta said, his eyes never leaving the red
numbers as they counted upward to the tenth floor. “We need you to be strong and firm on the subject.
Feel me?”
Madigan bit his lip, shame licking his insides. “Sorry. I get it.”
Cross growled. “Are you kidding? He will express himself as he sees fit in front of our family.”
Scepta turned his head to look over his shoulder. “Cross, I’m going to lose my entire life if he
fucks up. Get off my ass. I don’t want to hear his doubts on the subject. I want to hear that he is ready
to kick some ass and take some names.”
Bren snorted. “As if your father will let you come close to dying.”
“One doesn’t have to pass before judgment to be destroyed, Bren,” Scepta murmured, his voice
a soft sound of agony. “I’ve been outside the city before, lived outside the city. I have lost friends and
lovers to hunters. This place has always been a sanctuary though, a place for all those friends to
gather. This is my home. When or if Urun falls, a part of my fathers will fall as well and I will mourn
with them. So forgive me if I am not happy with the idea of you doubting even for a second that you
can do as you promise.”
Cross opened his mouth, no doubt to deliver another scathing retort, but Madigan held up his
hand to silence him. “Don’t, Cross. Just don’t. I get that Scepta ruffles your feathers, but he’s right.
We have to put on a brave face. We can’t let everyone else down.” He needed to remember that the
people of Urun would be watching him closely. I will get strong. I will get strong, and I will help
everyone. We will win this battle… Or die trying . He really, really hoped it wouldn’t be the latter
option.
* * * *
Yuri flipped through another magazine of motorcycles on Runa and Unu’s couch and mentally
calculated how long it would possibly take Madigan to finish up with Daisis. The archseraphim had
popped into the room only long enough to grab Madigan before he’d poofed both of them out again.
He sighed. Thirty-five minutes.
“How many motorcycle magazines do you guys have?” Bren asked, clearly cagey. He had been
playing checkers with Michel for the past twenty minutes and had only managed to make three moves.
“They’re not ours. They’re Daisis’s. He has a real hard-on for the Japanese models in
particular. He never rides them or anything, but I think he wants to,” Runa said, pushing his blond hair
back from his face. His laptop was open on his lap, and Unu had just brought in another tray of drinks.
“Shouldn’t we be training as well or doing something mildly productive?” Yuri directed the
question at Cross. As the designated leader, he was the only one who could call an end to their time
in purgatory.
Cross turned his page on his newspaper. “He asked us to wait here so he would know where we
were. We’re staying here. Period.” He handed Dex the Home and Garden section and shifted to the
Sports page. Yuri knew he’d pass that part to him after he finished with it. It was their ritual, their
routine.
Yuri sighed. “I’m going stir crazy here, Cross.”
“You all may borrow a spare room if you need it. Sex helps to relieve stress for us,” Unu
suggested, giving Yuri a cheeky wink.
Scepta wrinkled his nose. “Ew, Dad. That is disgusting.”
“He’s right, Unu. He doesn’t need to hear about that,” Runa said, face blazing bright red. “I have
an idea. Why don’t we head to the pool and work off some of that nervous energy.”
“Yeah?” Yuri asked. “How?”
“How do you guys feel about a little water football?”
“Is it on the same floor?” Cross asked, a familiar glint in his eye.
“Yes.”
Cross put his paper aside and uncrossed his legs before pushing himself up to his feet. “Then
let’s do this.”
Yuri felt excitement spear him for the first time all day. He looked forward to getting his game
on. Human sports had become a recent obsession, and he knew his lovers felt the same. There was
nothing better than a little healthy competition.
* * * *
Madigan hit the dirt so hard the wind rushed out of his lungs in a whoosh of sound. His entire
body felt like it had been dipped in a nuclear reactor. The energy practically sizzled across his skin.
He almost thought he had a damn sunburn.
“Fuck. Fuck that hurts.” He managed to gasp out the words and roll to his stomach just in time to
upchuck on a stray patch of grass. He had no clue where he was at other than somewhere remote and
within sight of some mountains.
“You’re going to have to anticipate and absorb angelic energies much heavier than those,
Madigan,” Daisis said, his voice calm, measured. The man was ethereal, inhuman, and unmoving. He
looked like a living human statue. White-blond hair and silver eyes were only one facet to his
otherness. Scepta’s energy made him uncomfortable, but Daisis’s made him ache in a very unpleasant
way.
He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and brushed away the spittle. “Are you sure
they’ll have the juice?” He raised himself up to all fours before pushing up to his knees. His head
spun, and his stomach threatened to heave again.
Daisis gave a single nod. “I am sure. I am throwing only the amount of energy that a lower choir
of angel could toss your way. Your guardians could easily incapacitate me at this power.”
“Holy shit,” he grumped. “I have a week to get this right?”
“Less than a week now,” Daisis corrected. “You’ll get it. I see the power inside you. It’s just a
matter of figuring out the trigger. Usually you exhibit power whenever one of your loved ones is in
danger, correct?”
Madigan nodded.
“Try concentrating on those memories. It should make something rise up.”
Madigan stared at him. “Something? Wow that’s specific.”
“I do understand sarcasm even if I can’t express it adequately.” Daisis sounded a little annoyed,
which was impressive. He was usually about as emotional as a stone wall.
“I’m sorry. I’m just getting frustrated.” He’d gone from public speaking, which he hated, to a
bare-knuckle boxing match with an opponent much stronger than him, which he also hated. Fighting
had never been his thing. He’d had three schoolyard tiffs, and all three had resulted in the same thing,
i.e. him with a bloody nose.
“Concentrate and stop whining about what you can’t do.”
He was right of course, which just pissed him off all the more. He closed his eyes and felt the
energy pulse inside him. Every living thing in the space was something new and shiny to distract
himself with, so he shut it all out and concentrated on the super-heated center inside him. He breathed
deep, commanding the fire to him. It burned higher, but he couldn’t otherwise manipulate it.
“What are you thinking about right now?” Daisis asked. Madigan bit his bottom lip, trying to
force it. “Whatever you’re doing isn’t working. Try something else.”
Daisis had been experimenting on whether or not Madigan was going to react like a new angel.
Apparently, everything was instinct with them and their powers would flare when confronted with
aggression. Madigan just hadn’t reacted properly. He hadn’t had his wings. Whatever that meant.
Madigan let his mind drift back to that terrifying moment when he’d found out that Cross wasn’t
breathing. His stomach started churning as the images flickered like a horror movie behind his
eyelids, the huge hole in his chest, the cool feeling of his lover’s flesh as he stared, sightless, at the
ceiling. The fire blazed white and erupted. Madigan’s eyes popped open as his body started humming
with the same insane energy it had when he’d healed Cross. Scepta had told him he had a good
amount of power inside him. He marveled at the color. But as soon as his concentration slipped, he
lost it. The color dissipated slowly, fading away to nothing.
“Well, now we’re getting somewhere,” Daisis rumbled. “Your healing powers lay in that
direction. Interesting.” He sounded about as excited as a scientist observing a lab rat. “Your
emotional centers don’t seem to be the point that awakens aggression. A little elbow grease and some
firm concentration it is.”
Madigan dreaded to know what that meant.
Chapter Two
Dex caught the football as it sailed through the air to his side of the pool. The swimming pool
was located on the far end of the penthouse next to a set of massive windows that overlooked Urun. It
wasn’t the largest pool he’d ever seen, but it wasn’t insignificant either. Daisis had really spoiled his
nephilim lovers and son. Though it was apparently Runa who enjoyed doing laps for fitness.
They’d split into two teams, Cross leading one and Bren leading the other. Cross had taken Dex,
Unu, and Scepta on his team, leaving Michel, Runa, and Yuri on the other. Luckily, they’d managed to
find enough bathing suits between them to allow everyone to play. Dex didn’t know how much this
was considered actual football though. It resembled monkey in the middle mixed with capture the flag
mixed with football in Dex’s opinion.
“Pass!” Cross barked, leaping out of the water near the other team’s touchdown zone. Dex
hauled the ball back before letting it fly. It twisted in a perfect spiral to Cross’s outstretched hands,
and a chorus of victorious shouts rang out in the pool area. They were ahead thanks to an interception
by Scepta.
Dex smiled as his other lovers talked trash and called foul while Cross did the most bizarre
happy dance Dex had ever witnessed. This was what they needed. The battle would be upon them
soon enough. These moments were the ones that would carry them through the long night. Dex knew
this was something he would hang onto at any rate. His only regret was that Madigan wasn’t here to
share it with them.
Whispers from his brethren had him raising his eyes toward the ceiling as the pictures started
playing on. He missed the football flying toward his chest. It smacked him hard, sending him tumbling
back into the water. He came up sputtering but not from the fact that he got choked on chlorine water.
“Dex? Are you okay?” Bren asked, swimming over to him and pulling him fully erect. “You
okay, babe?” Dex met his eyes, and the water droplets clinging to Bren’s eyelashes were beautiful
frames for his deep, black gaze filled with concern.
He leaned forward and pressed their lips together, happy beyond words. When he drew back, he
was grinning and Bren looked breathless. “I’m fine. My Lord Gabriel has managed to gather a
thousand of his choir to contribute to us.”
Bren’s gaze widened. “Awesome!” It was more than what they’d anticipated. Much more.
“What is it?” Cross asked, wading over to them.
“A thousand troops from Gabriel’s choir. Holy shit,” Bren said, grinning. “If they all give us that
many, we’ll build the army in no time at all.”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Cross murmured. But Dex could see the excitement brimming.
Michael and Lucifer would view the building of troops as a competition as per usual, so the numbers
would be good there. Their wild cards had been Gabriel’s and Uriel’s choirs.
Bren ignored him. “We could do this. We could win this.” Apparently Dex hadn’t been the only
one thinking that standing alone would’ve been suicide. Their Madigan had been the only one
confident enough to say he’d stand no matter the price. He had a ridiculous amount of faith in them.
There was no other way to describe it. Madigan believed absolutely in their ability to best any
enemy, win any battle. He had almost unreasonable expectations of their abilities.
“Calm down, Bren,” Cross repeated.
“News?” Yuri called as Scepta tossed the ball into the air and caught it a few times in rapid
succession. Dex repeated the message. Yuri gave a loud whoop of enthusiasm, and the other nephilim
grinned. This was great news.
“Hey guys,” a familiar and exhausted voice said from the doorway. “What did I miss?”
Dex turned to see Madigan standing there, Daisis by his side, holding him up with an arm around
his waist. Dex started moving before his brain even registered. He hoisted himself out of the pool and
took four purposeful strides toward them.
“What did you do to him?” he demanded, scooping up the protesting nephilim with one smooth
motion. He searched his lover for injury. It had been a good two hours, but he hadn’t expected Daisis
to bring him back bruised or broken.
“I’m fine, Dex,” Madigan croaked. “Just tired.”
Dex growled. “You do not look fine. If I put you down, you’d fall over.”
Madigan sighed and stared up at him. “You’re getting me wet.”
“You’ll dry.” He turned his attention back to Daisis as his other lovers crowded in behind him.
“Well? What did you do?”
“Trying to understand and unlock his more aggressive powers. So far I’ve found how to awaken
his healing capabilities or send him into a power spiral where he gets swamped and can only look at
the colors of the universe. I’m close though,” Daisis explained, looking absolutely unperturbed by
Dex’s censure.
“Neither of those discoveries is helpful,” Dex spat. He wanted to get Madigan naked and
examine him for bruises.
Daisis tilted his head to the side, looking past Dex to where his lovers were swimming. “Wasn’t
it Thomas Edison who said that he hadn’t failed but had only found a thousand ways how not to make
a lightbulb? We’re finding useful information regardless that it isn’t the right information.”
“He must be war-ready by the end of the week. Can it be done, Daisis?” Yuri asked, leaning his
elbows against the sides of the pool. He didn’t look nearly as concerned as he should’ve given the
situation. The fact annoyed Dex for some reason. He trusted the archseraphim to take care of
Madigan, but he shouldn’t have. They’d been betrayed by their own before.
Daisis’s eyes flicked to Yuri. “Yes. It can be done. He has enormous potential. He won’t be
polished, but he’ll be more than ready to fight in our conflicts.” His gaze returned to Dex. “I am not
the enemy, Dex. Either you choose to trust your allies or you run the risk of dividing your attention
and forces. We’re with you. I wouldn’t harm your Madigan any more than I’d harm my Runa or Unu.”
Dex tried to make himself relax, but he just couldn’t. “We need to go.” The words were out of
his mouth before he could even bother to ask Cross for permission.
Daisis nodded like he expected it. “Fine. Come back first thing tomorrow, and we will
continue.” He reached out and patted Madigan on the shoulder. Dex took a step back and growled. He
didn’t get to touch his lover. Daisis was unfazed. “You did well, Madigan. You’re already making
progress.”
The archseraphim blinked out of existence, and Dex turned toward the room they’d stashed their
clothing in. “Dex?” Madigan whispered. “I’m all right. Seriously. He wasn’t cruel or whatever. It just
takes a lot out of me. He said it was like accessing my powers before I got my first set of wings. He
thinks that will be the final key.”
Dex leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his lover’s lips. “Madigan, I love you.” He juggled
his lover one-handed and managed to twist the knob to the changing room.
Madigan’s expression softened as it always did when Dex expressed his love. “Love you, too,
Dex.”
* * * *
Cross hauled himself out of the water as the door to the changing room snicked shut behind Dex
and Madigan. The water pooled off his body and splattered to the floor. He had the urge to shake like
a dog as he dripped. “Is Dex okay?” Bren asked from behind him. He was climbing the steps to get
out.
“He’ll be fine. You know how he is when it comes to Madigan’s health. He worries.” Cross
understood it completely. He was in the same boat when it came to worrying, but he was younger than
Dex and remembered all too well how horrible it felt to get his powers fondled and forced for the
first time. It was pretty standard for an angelic instructor to find triggers first. He’d never seen a
nephilim treated in the same manner, but he imagined that there were definitely similar methods of
training. They could work with him after Madigan rested if it would make Dex feel better. He
normally wouldn’t push, but they were working on a deadline.
“Thanks for the game,” Cross said as Unu handed him a towel. He wasn’t sure when the
nephilim had gotten out, but he had apparently gone to fetch towels.
Unu smiled, his apple-green eyes warm. “I hope we can finish it sometime. I haven’t had enough
people here for a real game in years.” He handed Bren a towel as he walked up to stand beside
Cross. “You want to pass this one on to Dex? He was soaking wet when he went off, and there are no
towels in the changing room.”
Bren grabbed the extra towel. “Thanks, Unu.”
Cross turned his head and whistled for Yuri and Michel to come on. If Dex was this cagey, they
needed to get home and do some reaffirming of their bond. They were all reasonably shaken by
upcoming events, but it didn’t mean they couldn’t maintain some normalcy in the days to come. He
wondered if they would ever get to fully enjoy the fact that they were now married. It seemed like a
dream in so many ways. The wedding had been beautiful, and with the exception of one hiccup
immediately following the ceremony, it had been a perfect day.
“What are you thinking about?” Bren asked, rubbing along his side as they went through the door
at the same time.
“Our wedding.” He didn’t want to sound so longing, but he couldn’t help it. That moment had
been one of stolen peace.
Bren nodded like he had been expecting. “I love you, Red. We’ll get back an even better reality.
I promise.”
Cross didn’t voice his agreement or disagreement on the subject. Their victory was a long shot,
but he couldn’t in good conscience say that out loud. It would hurt morale, and that was the last thing
he wanted. If what Daisis said was true, Madigan needed to get his first set of wings yesterday, but to
his knowledge, most nephilim never got their wings. It was an infuriating situation.
He raised his eyes as they stepped fully into the room. A very naked Dex was looming over the
soft white couch in the center of the room, Madigan’s feet the only thing visible as the angel kissed
him. Cross cleared his throat to let them know they’d stepped into the room before he moved toward
the locker where he’d stashed his clothing. Bren followed suit. The round room was lined with
lockers, though it resembled more of a circular closet than an actual changing room. The white couch
sat on a thick shag carpet that was probably the epitome of modern décor but Cross just thought
looked like someone had skinned a big hairy mammoth or something.
Dex turned his face, panting for breath. “Commander,” he said by way of greeting.
“Save the sex until we get home,” he commanded, even as Madigan’s nephilim pheromones
worked on his control like nothing else. He wanted to fuck him just as badly, but they needed to show
a modicum of restraint in this instance. “I don’t want to dirty up their changing room. It’s impolite.”
He paused. “Madigan, can you wait?” Raphael had warned them that he would need touch and sex to
keep him straight until he got a better hold on his powers.
Madigan groaned low in his throat. “Yeah. I can,” he said at last. “Daisis’s training seemed to
sap a lot of my energy. The colors are everywhere, but my mind isn’t floating along on the ride if that
makes sense.”
Cross nodded even though Madigan couldn’t possibly see him. Madigan was seeing things with
his angelic vision because he was too tired to block out the other sight and see the mortal world as it
was. However, his tiredness meant the power wasn’t swamping him either. It was a nice state of
limbo to be in if he had to be in one. “It’s all right, my love. We’ll take care of you.” They always
took care of him and would always take care of him.
* * * *
Michel sent up a quick prayer of thanks to the Creator as they arrived at their destination. He
wasn’t normally the praying type, but he’d been twitchy the entire car ride, searching for assassins in
every alley they passed on the way home. The SUV was big enough to seat everyone, but it also felt
like a bigger target. Hell, a tank wouldn’t have made him feel secure at this point. He was intensely
relieved to see the driveway beside their townhouse. Home had never looked so welcoming.
Yuri leaned over the seat and ruffled Michel’s hair. “Home sweet home, huh?”
He nodded. “Couldn’t agree more.” He looked around the car. The most precious things in his
life were right here. No amount of safety compared. Bren had been driving while Cross stared out the
window. Now they were unbuckling their belts. Dex, Yuri, and Madigan had taken up the middle seat
with Madigan’s head resting in Dex’s lap with his feet in Yuri’s. He had taken a seat in the far back.
He liked being able to see all his lovers.
Bren and Cross ducked out of the car and opened the back doors to let the rest of them out. Dex
scooped Madigan up and followed them out with Yuri and Michel tight to his heels. Michel closed
the doors behind them before following them up the steps. The light came on as they ascended the
steps, and he tensed for a minute before realizing that they were motion sensitive.
Madigan raised his head and looked at Michel over Dex’s shoulder. “Relax, Michel. They gave
us a week.”
Michel snorted. “Did you forget who gave that promise? Azrael is insane.”
“Crazy as a fox more like,” Bren murmured, producing the key from his pocket and unlocking the
door. “He’s a smart psycho. He probably wants to lull us into a false sense of security or some shit.”
“We’re doing everything we can, boys,” Cross rumbled, holding the door open for Dex and the
rest of them. “We need to savor these moments. They might be our last.” Cross had only said what the
rest of them had been thinking from the beginning, but it was really a mood killer either way. Michel
didn’t even feel like sex. He felt like crawling in the middle of their massive bed and watching some
mindless romantic comedy until he passed out from exhaustion.
“Can we order take-out?” Madigan asked as Dex deposited him on the sitting room couch. It
was a testament to his tiredness that he said that. He was usually the one telling them that take-out was
no substitute for a home-cooked meal. He demanded that they took turns semi-regularly in the kitchen.
“We can cook something if you like,” Michel said. He could make spaghetti pretty well, and
while he wasn’t anywhere near as talented as Dex, he was not above spoiling his husbands with the
attention and food they deserved.
Madigan raised his head so that their eyes met. He had deep circles underneath his gorgeous
green eyes. “I don’t want a pile of dishes, Michel. But thanks for the offer.” His heart broke at the
exhaustion in that statement.
“I’ll do dishes, too,” Michel offered. “I don’t mind. I know you don’t really like take-out.”
Madigan offered his lover a shaky smile. “I seriously just want Chinese, Michel. It’s okay. I’m
really okay. I promise. I was actually really proud of myself today.”
“As were we,” Dex interjected.
“I know. I know.” Madigan groaned as he put his feet up on the couch cushion. “But you
should’ve seen it. I was awesome with the healing stuff. Daisis said I might have a new career path
when this mess is over.” He stretched. “I just wish I wasn’t so sore. I feel like I used a lot of muscles,
but he seriously didn’t do much to me other than poke at my powers and make me try to call them up.
Well, he did toss me a couple times, but it wasn’t that big of a deal. I had worse playing flag football
in high school.”
“It’ll get better,” Cross said, his voice a calm reassurance. “You are your father’s son.”
The pride that came over their nephilim’s face made all the discomfort from before more than
worth it. “I’ll go grab the take-out menu.” If he could find the drawer that Madigan stashed it in.
* * * *
“And I’m stuffed,” Madigan declared as the ending credits to The Switch played on the Blu-ray
player. The empty boxes of Chinese food littered the coffee table, and Madigan was content in his
pile of lovers. The big sectional couldn’t even contain them, but that was okay. Dex and Michel were
spread out on the floor within reach of Madigan’s restless fingers, and he had petted them each in turn
as the movie played.
“I’m pretty stuffed myself. How are you feeling?” Yuri asked, nuzzling his hand when he
stopped petting him.
“Better. A bit more revived. I think I’m going to try this walking thing in just a minute.” He
dreaded the walk up to their bedroom but he knew once he got there he would be fine. His angelic
side was already starting to crave a little sexual attention from his lovers. His nephilim instincts were
always clamoring for sex with his big guardian angels.
His cock firmed up behind his blue jeans, and he shifted to try to relieve the pressure there.
“Problems?” Cross rumbled. The redheaded commander had a hint of lust in the growling cadence of
his voice.
“I’m hard,” Madigan admitted, knowing his lovers liked when he was blunt with them. A
cacophony of growls met his statement. “I want to be fucked by my guardians. Can you oblige?”
The angels on the floor surged to their feet, and the three on the sectional followed suit. He
grinned as Cross tossed him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and hauled him toward the
stairs. He laughed even as his bruised body bounced on the angel’s muscled shoulder. He never had
to wait long when he expressed his desire for something with his husbands.
Cross took the stairs in twos, the sound of their other lovers pounding on the steps behind them a
good indication that they were just as eager. The bedroom door loomed ahead of them, and
anticipation zinged through his blood as instincts swamped his need for sleep with the need to join
together with his lovers. Nephilim needed sex more than the average human or angel, and it took all
five of his lovers to keep up with his sex drive.
The angelic commander twisted the knob to open the door, and it only took him four of his
massive strides to get to the orgy-sized bed in the center of their room. He dumped Madigan onto the
center of the bed, and Madigan immediately started stripping down, wrestling his clothes off as his
lovers did the same. He admired each of them in turn as he kicked off his jeans, his cock waving for
attention as it was exposed to the cooler air of the bedroom.
Bren’s growls as he ripped his black T-shirt in an attempt to pull it over his head made Madigan
snicker. He was the least patient out of all his lovers, but it was a quality that he didn’t mind in the
least. His dark-haired, dark-eyed angel was also the most passionate.
Michel was the light to his darkness, a blond-haired, blue-eyed beauty with shaggy hair
reminiscent of one of the Abercrombie & Fitch models he saw pictured in the mall. He was the
nurturer of the bunch, and he knew he especially had been stressed today as the reality of the situation
had sunk in.
Dex kissed a path down Michel’s exposed torso as he assisted with the removal of his pants,
lovingly stroking Michel’s cock as he pulled the zipper back slowly. His dirty-blond head leaned
forward and sucked the tip of Michel’s prick into his mouth.
Madigan reached down and started stroking his own cock in time with Dex’s suckling. “That’s
hot, Dex. Suck him good.”
Cross groaned at the sight before crawling onto the bed beside Madigan and kneeling between
his spread thighs. “Madi,” he whispered, copper eyes questioning. Madigan fisted his cock and
offered it up to him.
“Yours.”
The angelic commander grinned at him before lowering his mouth to engulf his already-dripping
cock. Madigan’s energy level seemed to be rising by the second. It was almost like he was syphoning
energy from the lust in the air. He felt strong, like all of his lovers were his to command, to love, to
worship. And he did worship them. They were the best parts of him.
“I want someone to fuck you,” Madigan said, stroking Cross’s red hair as he bobbed on his
length. The man had a mouth like a porn star. He groaned as his tongued lapped the sensitive head,
demanding he give him more of the sticky proof of his pleasure.
“Dibs,” Bren rumbled, jumping on the bed just behind Cross’s upturned ass.
Yuri wrapped his arms around Bren’s waist, bottle of lube in hand. “And I call dibs on yours.”
“I want you all to come inside me,” Madigan groaned, his mind beginning to drift into hungry
nephilim mode. He was insatiable when it got to this point. “I need you to claim me.” His lovers
moaned at his statement. There was nothing he liked better than for them to claim him.
Cross sucked him harder, driving him into a higher sphere of pleasure. Madigan shuddered
under his touch. He watched Bren dribble lube into the valley of Cross’s buttocks, and the
anticipation of what was to come made Madigan squirm. He loved watching his lovers fuck. He had
become very voyeuristic in the days since he’d become the lover of his guardians.
Bren passed the slick back to Yuri as he smeared some on his own prick. “Red, you’re so
fucking sexy.”
“Hmm, you are, too, Trouble,” Yuri rumbled, smacking Bren’s tight ass to get his attention. Bren
jumped but groaned all the same. Trouble was Michel’s nickname for Bren, but it was one the others
were using with greater frequency now too. The nickname suited him. Bren was certainly trouble.
“Yuri,” Bren gasped. “I want you inside.”
Yuri kissed the side of his neck. “Working on it. Get inside our Cross, and then I’ll sink to the
hilt in you.” His brown eyes flicked to Madigan. “Want to watch, Madi?”
Madigan swallowed. “Yes. Oh yes, please.” He could think of nothing better. The bed jumped
as Dex tossed Michel onto it before following him down. He took both of Michel’s legs and put them
on his shoulders.
“Lube,” Dex snarled, his voice a guttural rumble of need. Yuri passed it at the same time he sank
his fingers into Bren’s ass. Lucifer’s angel pushed back and made a noise of want in the back of his
throat. Madigan shut his eyes and just listened to the sound of their desire as his senses stretched out
to feel how their lust vibrated the air. Their home was filled with love tonight.
The feeling of Cross’s mouth pleasuring him made his head loll as he tried not to come in the
confines of his milking throat. He wanted them to come together. “Go ahead, Madigan,” Cross said as
he came up for air. “Come in my mouth, beautiful boy. We’ll make you come again.” And they would.
He knew they would. They would force him to experience greater pleasure than anyone ever could.
He would love every second of it, too.
With a groan of surrender, he shot his load into Cross’s mouth, unable to hold back any longer.
His mind blanked completely as his body shook apart in orgasm. Cross swallowed him down, his
eyes eating him alive as he came undone.
Bren chose that moment to sink balls-deep inside of Cross’s ass, and his eyes rolled at the
motion. Madigan panted as Cross snarled a very dirty compliment in Bren’s direction. Bren grinned
unapologetically and pulled partway out before shoving his cock back inside Cross’s ass. Cross clung
to Madigan’s thighs, gripping them tightly as Bren started fucking him in earnest. Yuri held Bren’s
hips still before plunging inside him as well. The train of sex was finally getting rolling properly.
Michel screamed out Dex’s name as Dex drove him across the mattress with the force of his
thrusts. Madigan’s cock hardened right back up at the sight. It didn’t take him much to get hard the
second time around. Or the third. Or the fourth for that matter. He couldn’t help that the five of them
dripped sexiness with every movement of their bodies.
“I love you,” Madigan promised to the room. He included all of them in that statement. Every
single one of them was precious to him.
A chorus of “I love you toos” filled the air, most of them husky murmurs at this point. Madigan
sat back and stroked his hand along his prick, jerking off as he watched his lovers fuck each other
stupid. He didn’t feel left out in the least bit. They were all cogs in a clock that worked perfectly
together.
“Close,” Cross rumbled, meeting Madigan’s eyes. The admission brought Madigan that much
closer. He jerked faster, watching them grow ever closer to the precipice of pleasure.
He knew that he would be the one to bring them over the edge of orgasm. They always let him
finish them in unison. Michel made a low, keening sound like he was holding his control with the tips
of his fingernails. “Now,” he commanded. His sight went from his normal vision to angelic sight in a
blink as his power boiled over and filled the room. His lovers writhed as his power struck them,
forcing their orgasms to an even higher pitch. Madigan could see their auras as the pleasure stretched
on. He joined them in their pleasure, screaming his release to high heaven as he was thrown down the
second chasm of orgasm tonight. He caught most of the sticky release in his hand and let himself be
wrung out. With a final gasp he collapsed back onto the bed.
After several panting breaths, he smiled at his lovers. “That was awesome. Can we do it
again?”
Chapter Three
After a late afternoon nap, they’d dragged out of bed to do some meditation and practice
summoning his powers for a bit before they crashed again. Their nephilim lover had slept like the
dead when they’d finally gotten back to sleep.
Madigan had been hard as hell to wake up for breakfast, which was unusual. He was usually the
first one up in the mornings. Bren hated mornings, always had. Having to wake up Madigan had been
especially difficult given the fact that all he wanted to do was snuggle when the alarm had gone off.
Bren grabbed a Coke from the fridge and popped the tab on the can. He was still waiting for
Cross to finish his last check of the perimeter and okay them to pile into the SUV. Their appointment
with Daisis was still an hour away, but with Cross doing the last sweep, it could take them another
thirty to get on the road.
“Man, I can’t seem to wake up,” Madigan said, shuffling into the kitchen. “Did you put a pot of
coffee on?”
“That’s what the Keurig is for,” Bren reminded, motioning toward the weird little machine that
made coffee by the cup.
He wrinkled his nose. “It doesn’t taste as good as the pressed stuff. Oh well. Can we run through
Starbucks drive-thru on the way?”
“I’m sure we can.” He stretched his arms to the side, elongating the muscles in his back. He
hadn’t worked out in a couple days, and he was feeling like crap, his muscles knotted from sleeping
in funny positions.
Madigan looked relieved at the thought. “Good.” He paused. “Are you guys going to work on
your battle skills while I’m getting my ass kicked by the archseraphim?”
“Probably. Cross is going to make us run drills while you practice. Then we’ve got lunch with
your friends and mom.” His cell phone beeped, signaling a new text message. He fished in his jeans
for the stupid device that let everyone and their mother have unlimited access to him. He missed the
days when there was no such thing as cell phones. There had been a certain freedom in the era.
However, he couldn’t complain about the updates where his lovers were concerned. He liked always
knowing that he could contact them at a moment’s notice.
He entered in the security code for his cell and opened up the message. It was from I.T., one of
the Elite angels who had recently joined Madigan’s friends Levi and Erik. He was the tech savvy one
of the bunch. “Hmm, well, Marius’s bunch have gotten record enrollments at their training center.
They want to know if we can go help them out this afternoon for their five o’clock class.” He’d have
to run it by Cross.
“That’s great. People are getting ready,” Madigan said, taking a cue from Bren and grabbing a
Coke out of the fridge.
Bren was happy to hear the excitement in Madigan’s voice. His lover needed hope in this time
of limbo, too. “Yeah. I wonder how enrollment is going at the tower.”
“No clue. We should ask when we get there. Scepta is supposed to be in charge of that, right?”
Madigan nodded. “I think so.”
The back door opened in the kitchen, and Cross stepped in from the early morning light. “Hey,
we’re ready. Dex, Yuri, and Michel are already in the car. It’s running and ready to go. We put the
spare changes of clothes in the back so we can change for lunch.”
“I.T. texted me and asked if we could spare a couple guys for the center’s afternoon class.
They’ve got more nephilim than they can handle at five. What do you want me to tell them?” Bren
asked, draping his arm over Madigan’s shoulders as they headed out the door. The air was frigid, and
he instantly regretted not grabbing a coat from the front hall. He hoped Cross had grabbed him a long-
sleeve number for the Olive Garden lunch date with Madigan’s mom.
Cross nodded, circling the car to the driver’s side. “Tell them me and Michel will head over
there after we finish lunch. We’re the most battle experienced.”
“You really want to split up?” Bren asked, opening the back door for Madigan. He crawled in,
and Bren followed him.
“It’ll only be for a few hours, and we’ll meet back at the house. I’ll contact Raphael to come sit
with you guys until we get done.” Cross buckled his seat belt and adjusted the mirrors. “Michel, you
down for teaching some nephilim the ropes after lunch?”
Michel nodded from his place in the back. “Hell yeah.”
By the time they reached Daisis’s tower and found a parking space, they had fallen silent once
more. It seemed that their silences were getting more pronounced lately, like they were each so caught
up in their thoughts that it was impossible for them to fill the air with anything other than the promise
of things to come. It wasn’t very comfortable, but there was love there as well, running just under the
surface.
Bren sighed. He just wished that he could stop the awkwardness between them. He knew what
the problem was. It was simple. They’d talked the subject of the upcoming battle to death, but even
though the words were spent, they couldn’t stop thinking about it. It left a lot of empty air between
them.
He fell into formation as they piled out of the car and crossed the street to the business park
outside Daisis’s tower. His eyes scanned the passing commuters, all of them looking hurried and
more than a little stressed themselves. Angels and fallen ducked between buildings and could be seen
circling overhead as they looked for the right streets. Urun was certainly a unique little slice of
heaven. It would be a shame to see it fall.
They finally passed through the archway of the tower, and Bren lost sight of angels overhead.
“Thank the Creator you guys are here,” Scepta said, coming out of nowhere. Bren hated how the guy
popped in and out like a ghost. He was worse than any archangel he’d ever met. Lucifer did the same
thing, but at least when he showed up, he didn’t shout like something urgent was happening.
“What’s up, Scepta?”
Scepta waved his hand in a wild, dramatic motion. “My father wants to see you all. He’s had an
idea, god help us. I’ve got a long list of healing rounds to do around town and zero time to do it. Can
one of you run the front desk? Just send any stragglers up to the 5
th
floor. My dads are hosting a
defense class for the citizens as promised. I’ll only be gone for a couple of hours.” The pleading note
in his voice was downright pitiful. “Please. I’ve got a nephilim in labor with her first child and a
boatload of injured people in need of a healer with the good touch.”
Cross sighed. “I’d planned to run drills with the others, but I suppose I can spare one. Bren?”
“You really want me to run a customer service desk?” he asked dryly. Bren crossed his arms
over his chest, shooting him a meaningful look. Out of all the guardians, he was the most abrasive.
Cross shot him an unhappy look. “It’s not rocket science, Bren. Just point toward the elevator
and tell them what floor. I know that you are ready to fight, Trouble. I want to run drills with the
others.”
“What about Michel?” Bren asked, nodding his head toward Michael’s angel. “You said it
yourself, you and Michel are the most battle ready.”
“Yes, we are. But you know these drills better than I know them.” Cross gave him a pointed
look, and understanding dawned.
Bren’s eyes widened. “You’re running my hellion drills?” He’d shown Cross the drills he’d
learned from Lucifer’s generals during his service in general armada before he specialized as a
guardian.
Cross inclined his head. “They won’t be expecting it. It’ll be my ace in the hole if they break the
front lines.”
“Fine. I’ll play cruise director.” He turned his head to Madigan and leaned down before
pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Be safe and good luck at practice today.” He looked at his lovers. “And
the rest of you be careful.” He knew the drills like the back of his hand, and they were no cake walk.
The rapid-fire pumps of energy and hairpin turns they would use to direct the power made for
hellishly good warfare but were a bitch to get right.
The relief on Scepta’s face was almost comical. “Okay. Thank you.” Scepta pointed to the long
desk. “Just sit there and look official.” Then he blinked out of existence, and Bren sighed. Now he
had a use for his cell phone. The game app would come in handy while he waited.
His lovers headed toward the elevator, and he was left alone. He jumped the desk and situated
himself in the surprisingly comfortable armchair behind it. He had the sneaking suspicion that Scepta
spent a little bit of time here at this desk. A quick glance around confirmed the suspicion as a
calendar of dates and sticky notes lined one side. A laptop was tucked in the right cubby, and a small
tin of pens sat at its side. Wow. Scepta has extraordinarily bad handwriting . He turned his head to
make a joke to one of his lovers about it only to realize that he was completely alone. He blinked. He
hadn’t been completely alone since he’d become Madigan’s guardian. He tapped his fingers on the
desktop. He really didn’t like it.
Five minutes later and he was texting his lovers. He was bored. They weren’t answering. He
didn’t like it at all. He huffed. Not even solitaire was a good distraction. Two fallen angels
wandered into the lobby, a young nephilim in tow.
“It’s all right, Jayson. You’re going to do well. We just want you to be ready in case something
happens to one of us,” the larger of the fallen murmured, petting the young nephilim on the back.
The shorter fallen approached him at the desk. “Um, what floor are they hosting the self-defense
clinic?”
“Fifth floor.” He tried to smile kindly at the young one. “You’ll be fine.” Hey, look at me being
personable. He was proud of himself. Dex would give him a cookie for the performance.
The nephilim smiled tentatively. “Thanks. My dads are nervous about the battle.”
Bren returned his smile. “It’s all right. I understand completely. There is no harm in being
prepared.”
The larger fallen steered him toward the elevator. “Thanks, man.”
Bren saluted. “No problem.”
As soon as the doors to the elevator shut on the other side of the lobby, the main doors opened
again. Five massive men walked through the doors, and Bren instantly tensed. These were not some
clueless nephilim in need of guidance. They were warriors. Period.
“Can I help you?” Bren asked, pushing himself to his feet. His palms itched with the urge to
draw his angelic weapons to ready himself for battle. It was weird that he couldn’t manage to figure
out what they were. They didn’t feel like fallen or angels for that matter. But he’d never felt a
nephilim that strong either. The power reverberated off them and raised the fine hairs on his arms.
The meatiest of the bunch was as big as Dex but a bit wider through the shoulders. He had pitch-
black hair, the same shade as Bren’s own. “Madigan Parker. We need to see him. Where is he?”
Bren snarled. “It’s none of your business where he is. Who the fuck are you?” A sword blazed
to life in his palm. Scepta would probably get pissed if he scorched the guy’s desk, but he didn’t give
a shit.
Ice-blue eyes regarded him with no small amount of disdain. “Put that away before you hurt
yourself, guardian. Where is Madigan Parker?”
“Who. The. Fuck. Wants. To. Know?” Bren forced between gritted teeth. He really hated being
ignored. The auburn-haired one reached out and grabbed Bren’s blade. Bren’s eyes shot wide as the
smell of burning flesh filled the air an instant before the power wobbled before collapsing onto itself.
The pain followed on its heels, and he clutched the desk to keep from falling over as his sword
vanished like it had never been. He felt like he couldn’t breathe as the pain stretched on. Fuck.
Fuckkk.
“Hmm, surprisingly strong for a guardian,” the auburn-haired one said. “He might be the one
we’re looking for.”
“He’s supposed to have four others. Why would they leave him alone in Daisis’s lobby?” the
black-haired one asked.
The blue-haired one cracked his knuckles. “Maybe he is a scout.”
The guy who broke his sword shook his head. “Doesn’t make sense. He can’t be one of the
chosen one’s guardians.”
Black Hair Asshat shrugged. “Are you one of Madigan Parker’s lovers?”
“Fuck off.” Bren hit 911 in his messenger on his phone and sent it to Cross’s cell. He just hoped
they’d get the message.
“That is a yes,” Auburn Hair said, grinning. “Excellent. We need to talk to your lover.”
Bren looked at all of them in bewilderment. “Who are you people?”
“We’re the five horsemen, and we’re here to see your lover about fighting in this war he
started.”
* * * *
Madigan finally managed to throw some holy fire at Daisis’s face thirty minutes in. He dodged it
easily, but it was progress and Madigan would take what he could get at this point.
“You’re still fighting your angelic nature, and I don’t know why. Let go. Let the power swamp
you.”
“I can’t,” Madigan said, gritting his teeth against the out of control feeling swirling inside him.
“You can’t be scared of your power, Madigan. Let it go. Trust in yourself.”
“I don’t want to go crazy. Nephilim with parents like mine go crazy if they let it out,” Madigan
repeated, recalling every horror story he’d read about that involved children of stronger angels
coming of age and awakening their powers.
Daisis’s silver eyes regarded him with curiosity. “I understand the caution but not the blatant
fear. I think we’ve finally uncovered the reason you can’t unlock more aggressive powers.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re pushing and pulling at the same time. You are suppressing the power and
exciting it at the same time.” Daisis disappeared before reappearing in front of him. They were in the
same rural area they had used yesterday. The archseraphim still wouldn’t tell him where they were.
Daisis put his hands on Madigan’s shoulders and pushed down gently. “Sit down. I have another
idea.”
Madigan went to his knees before going to his butt on the dirt. “What idea?”
“I want to bring your lovers here and see if you work better as part of their unit. Fighting alone,
you doubt, flounder. With them, you are infinitely more confident.” He rubbed his shoulders in a slow
rhythmic fashion. “Calm your mind. Settle. I think if you do that and work with your lovers, you’ll be
able to achieve more than what we can working one-on-one.”
“Whatever you think is best.” Raphael trusted the archseraphim with his training, and Madigan
supposed that meant he needed to do the same. Daisis snapped his fingers, and four of his gorgeous
lovers tumbled to the ground.
“Holy shit!” Cross cursed, pushing himself up from where he’d fallen to the ground. “What the
hell just happened?”
“Daisis,” Madigan said by way of explanation. He got to his feet and helped pull his lovers to
theirs.
“Why did he bring us in on your practice?” Cross asked, brushing himself off. Madigan’s mouth
went completely dry as he took in his very shirtless lovers.
He swallowed, mentally shaking himself to keep from drooling. “No idea. He thought I’d do
better working with you guys in a group.”
“Well,” Michel said. “Where is he?”
Madigan frowned and looked around. “Um, I don’t know. I thought he popped out to go get you
guys.” He paused. “Why didn’t he bring Bren?”
“Watching the lobby must be important,” Dex murmured. “Though why they couldn’t just post a
note, I don’t know.” Scepta was brilliant but clearly scatterbrained this morning.
He sat back down on the soft, newly revived grass, and waited for whatever was going to come
next.
* * * *
“I can’t bring you to Madigan without his lovers’ express permission. If Bren says no I can’t in
good conscience violate that wish,” Daisis said, standing between the massive giants in the lobby.
“He is being unreasonable,” the black-haired giant said.
“Maybe if you introduced yourselves as more than ‘the horsemen,’ I would be more inclined,”
Bren drawled. If he were honest with himself, he would admit to being the slightest bit intimidated by
the bunch. The power they had was something else.
The black-haired guy sighed like Bren was being really unreasonable. “I’m Victory.”
“I’m Famine,” the blue-haired guy said.
The auburn-haired giant who’d broken his sword gave a wave. “War.”
“I’m Death,” the silent white-blond murmured.
The golden-haired boy with an easy smile and a very sunny disposition piped up. “I’m Hope.”
Bren’s eyes bulged. “So you’re the horsemen of the freaking Apocalypse?”
“Are there any other horsemen?” War asked dryly.
“So…does this mean the end is nigh or some shit?” The thought sent a chill through Bren’s core.
He didn’t want everything to be over so soon.
Victory snorted. “Of course not. We heard the archangels were finally getting involved in the
damn slaughter fest that has been going on for the past several hundred years. We ran a sanctuary in
the Florida Keys.”
Bren’s heart broke for them. “They destroyed your home first.”
“They killed our friends, colleagues, and devastated our home. We weren’t extraordinarily
close to the people who had joined our little camp of sanctuary, but we mourn them. Effective
vengeance starts with strong allies. We want in on the hunter beat down,” Victory said, his eyes filled
with equal parts anger and sadness.
War put a hand on Victory’s shoulder, and a lightbulb went off. They were lovers. The horsemen
were freaking lovers. Bren didn’t know why that was so weird to him, but it was. “The point is, we
know Madigan is the leader of this faction. We want in.”
Bren crossed his arms over his chest. “How do I know that you aren’t hunters in disguise or
something?”
“We’re nephilim, friend,” Hope said, smiling gently. “The last thing we would do is join with
hunters. However, if you doubt us, we can call down our fathers.”
“Who are your fathers?” Bren asked curiously.
“The Thrones.”
Bren blanched. It was just like the obscure legend Yuri had found said. The high choir hadn’t
even been seen on the earth plane in centuries. That made most of the horsemen older than Bren. “That
would work.”
Death huffed. “Give me a moment. I think my father is free.” He closed his eyes and muttered a
chant that Bren didn’t recognize.
An instant later the entire hall ignited in a blinding blaze of light. Bren screamed as the power
ricocheted off his body, sending him tumbling to the floor.
Death sighed. “Father, tone it back a bit before you kill the guardian.”
The light faded somewhat, but it still felt like Bren was going to be vibrated out of his skin. He
somehow managed to pull himself up to a crouching position behind the desk. He swallowed. How in
the world did a human manage to have sex with something like that? “So, you’re one of the Thrones?”
“Yes. My son is telling the truth. He came here to aid you.”
“Oh good,” Bren muttered, resisting the urge to clap his hands over his ears. “You can leave
now.” Please, leave now. He blinked and the being was gone. He nearly sagged in relief.
Hope knelt on the ground beside him, tilting up his chin so that their eyes met. “Now, take us to
your Madigan Parker. We’ve got a lot to discuss.”
* * * *
Daisis brought guests. He brought huge guests. Cross tensed as Bren stumbled in their direction.
He growled low in his throat and surged to his feet.
Bren held up a hand to stop him. “I’m okay, Red. Just a little shaky from meeting one of the
heavens’ most elite angels.”
“Who?”
“No clue but he was a Throne, and standing near him felt like dipping in a vat of electrically
charged acid. How anyone had sex with it, I have no idea.” Bren walked over to him, and Cross
wrapped an arm around his waist. Cross pressed a kiss to his forehead.
“Never again,” Cross whispered. “I will not let one of you out of my sight again. We go off in
twos or not at all.”
“I agree,” Madigan piped up, huddling to Bren’s other side. Their other lovers crowded in, and
Cross got warm all over. This was the life he’d always craved but never dreamed he could possess.
After their combined hug, he raised his head. “So you are nephilim.”
Bren pointed them out. “If I have this correctly, Victory, War, Famine, Death, and Hope.”
“We’re here to kick some hunter ass,” Hope said, a feral grin on his face.
“But we’re also here for more than that,” Famine interjected, draping his arm over Hope’s
shoulder. “We’re here to help with nephilim training. Training one with a good amount of power isn’t
anything like training an angel. Our fathers had to learn some techniques in the beginning with us.”
“They were in charge of the Florida Keys sanctuary,” Bren offered. “I think we should take
some assistance. We’re floundering at this point.”
“Well, the first thing you should know is that Daisis really can’t help you. He can manipulate
your powers and even force some angelic powers to bust out upon occasion. But he will never be
able to unlock them,” Victory said, cracking his knuckles. He glanced around at their surroundings.
“Good spot to practice though, low stimulation.” He looked at Daisis. “The guardians will help his
concentration, but they’re pretty useless. You’ll need them only after we get his powers up and
useable. Working in a unit with angels is a tough row to hoe, but it can be done.” He took a step in
Madigan’s direction, and Cross growled. He couldn’t help it. He didn’t like unfamiliar people near
his lovers, Madigan especially. He didn’t trust people.
“Easy, tiger,” Victory rumbled. “I’m not going to hurt your lovers. I’m really here to help.”
“You just watch yourself,” Cross warned. “I will drop you if you hurt him.”
Bren made a noise of protest. “I wouldn’t recommend doing the angelic sword thing. They don’t
like that.”
Cross turned incredulous eyes toward him. “Something you want to share with the class?”
“Not particularly,” Bren drawled, looking embarrassed. “Just don’t swing a sword at him.”
As leader it was his responsibility to take charge of the situation and demand results from those
under his charge. He wasn’t sure what do to with this situation, and he didn’t like it. “We’re staying
right here while you teach him. If you make one wrong move, I’m going to make sure you regret it.”
He wasn’t entirely sure how, but he would.
War grinned at him. “I do love a good brawl. Want to tango for fun, guardian?”
Victory shot him a look. “Leave him alone, War.”
Today was shaping up to be a strange day already.
Chapter Four
Madigan let the power wash over him and through him in a soothing wash. It had taken nearly
three hours to get him in the right mindset, but now that he was, he was pretty sure he was never going
out of it again. His lovers ran drills on the other side of the clearing, moving and throwing their
energy at one another in a mock battle that would’ve been sexy as hell to watch had he not been so
into what he was doing over here. Daisis had popped out an hour ago to attend to whatever duty he’d
needed to get to with a promise to return to take them back to Urun.
“That’s good,” Famine complimented. “Your energy is pretty potent. Stronger than an archangel,
lower than a seraphim, perfect nephilim blend. We really are the superior species.” The blue-haired
nephilim was a very strange character.
“Now, push it out from your body like you’re passing a hot potato. Nephilim energy is naturally
drawn to energy of a like kind,” Victory lectured. “There is a good boy. Go for it.”
This was a piece of cake. He was freaking invincible. He was going to kick hunter ass, and Az
better watch his. He looked at War and pictured a projectile racing toward him. Without warning,
flame shot from the center of his chest right at War. He growled and pushed it a little faster. War
caught it but stumbled back a step as the flame erupted over his torso.
He gave a whoop of joy as the other nephilim cursed. “I did it,” he said, grinning from ear to
ear.
Victory glared. “Yeah. You did. You also put a little extra power behind that. How about you
don’t Molotov cocktail my lover, huh?”
Madigan cracked his shoulder, feeling empowered. “Sorry. I can’t help it. I just want to—” He
didn’t even have a word for it. He was powerful and strong for the first time in his life. It was
intoxicating. He eyed his husbands as they dove and swung their swords at invisible foes. He wanted
to play.
“Bring it back a little, Madigan,” Victory said, squeezing his arm hard enough to pinch. “You’re
letting it swamp you. I know you feel like god right now, but you can’t stay in that mindset. The
arrogance will make you trip up in battle. You have to let the power in but not let it control you.”
“I’m okay,” Madigan denied. “I just feel really, really good.” His eyes snagged on Bren’s tight
ass. He licked his lips.
“Now that is a positive reaction. Don’t let it turn aggressive. We usually work it out with sex as
well,” Famine said, chuckling. “Gentlemen, why don’t we let them celebrate and run a few drills on
their own?”
Victory grinned. “Excellent idea.” He turned his attention back to Madigan. “Don’t hurt them.”
Hurt them? Why would he hurt them? He would never hurt them. He had a thought, and then he
was across the field. He blinked, unsure how he’d even accomplished it. Dex nearly plowed him over
as he appeared in the middle of their drill. Cross shouted, but Dex’s sword swung in a dangerous arc,
but when Madigan raised his arm in defense, Dex bounced backward and fell to his back.
He could do more than that. He snapped his fingers, and the sword wavered, shimmering, then
disappeared. Dex gasped and looked up at him with a confused expression plastered over his face
Madigan grinned before pouncing on him where he lay prone on the ground. He kissed his plush lips,
filled with heat. Mine. They’re all mine.
He grew hard behind his zipper, his body needing to express absolutely what it was he needed.
Dex groaned beneath him and kneaded his ass through his jeans. The other guardians crowded around
them, watching them. Their eyes made him hot.
He broke the kiss and looked up. “Take me,” he commanded, needing them with him.
“Here?” Cross asked, looking around the clearing. “We don’t have any slick.”
Madigan grinned. “I don’t need slick to make you feel good.” An idea started itching in the back
of his mind. He could pleasure them all. He could make them all feel good without having to
physically do anything. He looked at their auras. All of them were filled with lust and no small
amount of fear. He didn’t want them to be afraid. He just wanted them to want him.
“I’m okay,” he promised. “I’m a little drunk on power and high on life, but I am not going
crazy.” His reassurance dissipated some of the worry he saw written on their expressions. “I want to
try to use my powers in a different way. Do you mind?” He knew Bren had said manipulating auras
was forbidden, but he knew how to make his lovers feel right. “I can make you feel good. I want to
make you feel good.”
Cross hesitated the barest of seconds before he nodded. “I trust you, Madi. If you start to feel out
of control, let us know.” The others nodded their agreements, and triumph swam through Madigan’s
veins. They were so his.
With a thought he pushed his powers into their auras, connecting them all with a thread of
pleasure so they felt what Dex felt. They crowded closer, groaning as he kissed a trail down Dex’s
body. He loved having his lovers all to himself. The hunger for them never really eased, and he
couldn’t say that he regretted that. He knew they needed him just as badly as he needed them, and that
made them equals in every way.
He popped the button on Dex’s jeans and pulled his cock out into the open air. A small voice in
the back of his mind told him that doing this out in the open was a bad idea and that the horsemen
might see, but he was too into it to really give it much care. He needed this too much to stop at this
point.
“I love when you go commando,” he breathed, lapping the head of Dex’s cock as a drop of pre-
cum formed there.
“I’m glad,” Dex groaned, fisting the tufts of grass beside him. Madigan sucked the head of his
dick into his mouth, and the angel made another needy noise in the back of his throat. The others were
panting, clearly unsure of what was happening as they experienced what Dex was experiencing down
to the slightest sensation.
“Fuck me, is he doing that?” Michel asked, his head thrown back and his fingers looped around
his belt loops.
“Yeah,” Bren growled. “Bright eyes, you’re playing with us.”
He popped his head off Dex’s cock for a second. “Protests? Want me to stop?”
“No!” they barked in unison. He chuckled and went back to his blow job. Dex was really
enjoying it from where Madigan was sitting. He was certainly making a lot of happy sounds. Madigan
bobbed his head, wanting to drive the pleasure higher.
Cross popped the button on his jeans and pulled his cock out. Madigan eyed the motion and
suckled harder. Now his lovers were getting it. They were all connected all perfectly in sync. All his.
Cross brought his cock out and wrapped his fist around the thick length, pumping his wrist as he
watched and felt Madigan give the blow job to Dex.
Michel moaned again. “Holy crap!” He followed Cross’s lead and pulled his cock out as well.
Madigan was nearly bucked off as Dex thrashed beneath him. A combination hand and blow job from
five other guys apparently wore on his control.
“I’m gonna come. I’m gonna come, Madi. Please,” Dex rumbled, a pleading note in his voice.
Madigan lapped at the tip of his cock.
“Not yet,” he whispered. “Together.” Then he went back to his task, driving his lovers higher.
Dex screwed his eyes shut, a look of concentration on his face as Bren and Yuri started masturbating
in time with the others.
“So good, bright eyes,” Bren gasped, his eyes eating them alive. “I love you all so fucking
much.” Out of all their lovers, Bren was the most likely to express his affection during sex.
“We love you,” Madigan said as he came up for air, kneading Dex’s tight sac as he met Bren’s
dark gaze. “We will always love you.” He paused as his power whispered that he could do better. He
stared into Bren’s eyes and pushed his power in his direction. “Come.”
Bren gave a strangled shout as his cock shot, spilling over his grip in an orgasm that left him
shaking. He seemed to come forever, bucking into his hand as his body threw him into the heavens.
Madigan grinned. “Good boy.”
Dex groaned. “What happened to together?”
Madigan laughed. “I’m feeling impatient.” He pumped his fist up and down Dex’s length. “All of
you come for me. Now.” And they did. Madigan breathed in the scent and sensation of their pleasure
as they came for him in a beautiful display of masculine virility. By the time they were finished, he
was ravenous for them.
He unzipped his pants and undid the button on his pants, offering up his cock as he pulled it from
his boxers. “Suck,” he commanded. They all fell on him then. It should’ve been scary as hell to see
five very strong males practically brawling over a chance to suck his cock, but all he could be was
turned on. He loved them and they loved him, and nothing between them could be wrong.
His sweet Michel got there first, his mouth wrapping around him as the others groaned in
protest. Someone pulled his jeans all the way off and tossed them to the side, and someone else
pushed a digit into his needy entrance. Oh wow. Yes. Just like that . He writhed for them as they
stripped him down to nothing. Bren and Cross took up the space on either side of him, pinching and
licking his nipples into hard points. Dex traced his back, nibbling his neck and shoulders, and he
pumped a thick finger in beside the one Yuri had already forced inside him. They worked in unison to
drive him crazy, and he begged incoherently for them to fuck him, to take him, just to use him for their
pleasure.
Someone made a sound of utter want, and a set of teeth burrowed into his chest. He groaned,
wanting more. Michel sucked harder, making him come up on his knees with every strong pull of his
mouth.
“Madigan,” Yuri breathed, rubbing his fully erect cock against his side. “Like that?”
“Yes,” Madigan whimpered. “Hell yes. Please, yes. God!” He should’ve known better than to
play with his lovers and tease them like he had. He was in their control now. He just wished someone
had slick because the only thing that would’ve made it better was if they would be able to fuck him in
turn.
Someone tossed something that landed on the crowd a few inches from their pile. “Don’t hurt
yourselves,” one of the horsemen called, clearly amused by them. Madigan didn’t even care that they
were watching. He just wanted his lovers inside him.
“Hell yes. They are handy bastards. I’ll give them that,” Yuri rumbled, reaching over and
grabbing the tube of slick. “I get his ass first. Michel, keep sucking. Everybody else, form a line. Our
Madigan wanted to claim us. It’s only fair that we return the favor.”
Madigan could’ve wept he was so relieved. They put him in position so that he and Michel were
in a sixty-nine and the others were lined up behind them. “You suck Michel’s cock good,” Cross said,
smacking Madigan’s upturned ass as he circled to the back. “Naughty nephilim, interrupting practice
for sex. Tsk tsk.” He wasn’t mad though, Madigan could feel his pleasure and his desire. He hoped he
would punish him anyway. He liked when his lovers got a little rough with him. They treated him like
glass most of the time.
Yuri’s thick cock sank inside him with one brutal thrust and Madigan couldn’t help but to cry out
at the sensation. He lowered his head and obediently sucked Michel’s length into his mouth to muffle
the sound.
“Don’t you dare come until the last of us does, boy,” Yuri all but growled. “We’re going to fill
you up. You better wait for it.”
Madigan relaxed his throat, giving himself completely over to their power. His nephilim side
purred in happiness over the treatment. As strong as he was, he really desired to be mastered more
than anything. Between the five of them, they managed beautifully. Yuri pulled his hair so that he came
off of Michel’s cock.
“Understand?” Uriel’s angel asked, continuing to fuck him hard as he did.
“Yes,” Madigan gasped. “I won’t. I promise.” Yuri let his hair go, and he fell back on Michel’s
cock, sucking it hard to try to provide himself something to focus on as Yuri hit all his internal
pleasure spots with every lunge of his hips.
After a few minutes, Yuri let out a deep rumble of pleasure and bathed Madigan’s insides with
cum. Madigan shuddered at the sensation, the urge to join him in orgasm so great that he thought his
balls might turn inside out. Somehow he managed to hold on though. He whimpered in protest when
Yuri pulled from his body only to sigh happily as Cross took his place.
The treatment was repeated again, and each time he grew closer to orgasm. Bren came next.
Then it was Dex’s turn. The biggest angel had always been the gentlest, but apparently his control
was obliterated after watching the fuck fest that had just been inflicted on Madigan.
He pushed inside Madigan and set a hard, fast rhythm that Madigan knew from experience was
impossible to maintain. Michel shot into his mouth, and Madigan swallowed him down, grateful for
his lovers’ claim. He had needed this for days now.
“I love you, Madigan. No matter what, I love you.”
Madigan murmured his thanks, begging wordlessly for Dex to finish him, to finally give him the
relief he sought.
“You’re so beautiful, Madi,” Yuri complimented, raising his head to press a kiss to his lips.
Michel somehow managed to squirm out from under him and joined the others as they watched the
two of them finish what Madigan had started. He cried out as the telltale signs of orgasm streaked
down his spine and took up residence in his tight balls.
“Dex, please, come for me. Please,” Madigan begged, needing to come like there was no
tomorrow. Dex gave a feral growl and slammed inside him, demanding he take whatever he gave him.
Dex’s big hand swatted his ass as he buried himself deep one last time. “Come, Madigan.”
Madigan’s world splintered as the pleasure threw him to the moon and out past the planets into the
Milky Way. Thoughts weren’t possible, just endless feelings of want and need and pleasure. He came
so hard he thought he might’ve passed out for a moment.
When he blinked back the spots in his vision, he realized the world was glowing with their
combined power. It seemed like they were floating in a world of sensation and power, and Madigan
was so very content right where he was.
They pulled him into their arms, cooing over him and generally fussing about his well-being as
they always did whenever he had been fucked good and proper.
“I love you,” he whispered, his voice hoarse.
Usually he felt exhausted after sex, but he was feeling more than a little invigorated by the whole
thing. He cuddled with them, loving the closeness they had. He wanted eternity with these men, and
with his newfound powers, he would demand it. The fear of failure was still there, circling the back
of his thoughts, but he had finally found the key to the situation. He had found hope.
“What brought that on?” Yuri wondered, nuzzling his cheek as they passed him around like a
party prize.
Madigan smiled. “You guys were all sexy and shit doing drills. I couldn’t help myself.” He
stretched his arms heavenward, his muscles protesting the movement.
“Nephilim are such troublemakers,” Bren teased, pinching his ass. “And they wonder why you
and I get along, bright eyes.”
“I don’t wonder,” Michel murmured, laying his head on Bren’s shoulder. “Kindred spirits. The
both of you. Trouble and Trouble Light.”
Madigan laughed. “Trouble Light? I’m only a little bit of trouble?”
“Oh no, you’re a lot of trouble, but we enjoy your naughty dips into distraction,” Michel said,
winking at him.
Bren looked fatally wounded by the comment. “As if my trouble is any less sexy?”
Michel nibbled his neck. “Oh no. It’s sexy all right. You’re just older and have had more time to
perfect the troublesome qualities in your personality.” Bren laughed, and Madigan couldn’t help but
smile along with them. These were the best moments, the intimate ones.
“Hmm, we need to get back to practice,” Cross said after several silent moments of cuddling.
“Madigan, you need to work on your stuff. It’s less than a week now.”
Madigan sighed. “I know.” He paused. “But if I get needy for some angel loving between now
and the time we break for lunch?”
Cross chuckled. “I’m sure one or all of us will indulge you. Try to concentrate though. Are you
okay to walk?”
Madigan climbed out of Yuri’s lap and stretched. “Yep. Right as rain. Man, being a full-fledged
nephilim kind of rocks my socks off. I feel like a god or something.”
“Don’t let it go to your head,” Michel warned, climbing to his feet as well.
“Yeah, yeah. I know.” Madigan huffed. “You guys are no fun at all. So serious.”
“Hey now,” Michel said, pulling Madigan into his arms as he bent to pick up his discarded shirt.
“Don’t be like that. We are only looking after your best interests.” It was only then that Madigan saw
that his teasing had actually hurt Michel’s feelings.
He leaned up and gave Michel a kiss. “No worries, babe. I was just kidding around. I know that
you guys have my back. I don’t doubt that even for a minute.” He gave the angel a squeeze before
letting him go. “I’m just caught up in the fact that I have something to swagger about. Don’t worry. I
have it all straight in my head. I promise.”
Cross nodded. “Good. You make us so proud, Madi. You really do.”
Madigan warmed at the compliment. “Thanks. You guys are too good for me.”
“Nah, bright eyes,” Bren rumbled, pulling on his shirt. “We’re just good enough.”
He really didn’t deserve them. They were so damn good to him. He took his pants from Michel
and pulled them up his legs. It was time to get back to work. He wanted to make them just as proud of
him as he was of them. They were all trained warriors, and he had a lot to live up to.
* * * *
The Olive Garden gave them a private room in back reserved for larger parties. Yuri was glad
because when everyone in this family got together, it could be a loud affair. Madigan’s mom was a
trip, and he loved her to death. He wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about the other humans in company
however. They had been staying with Madigan’s mom as they waited for the battle to start, and Yuri
wasn’t entirely sure why they were still here. They all had lives outside of Urun and didn’t even live
in the city, so he didn’t know why they wanted to stick around. They would just get in the way.
Humans had no place in a battle zone.
However, Madigan seemed to draw comfort from their presence, so he didn’t voice his protests.
The poor waitress was running ragged and they’d just ordered drinks. A quick glance at his phone
revealed that they still had an hour and a ten minutes before Michel and Cross would have to leave,
so they had plenty of time to eat. He figured Cross would leave Bren or himself in charge when they
skipped out. He rubbed the back of his neck. At least they’d been able to wash up at Daisis’s before
changing. He had been covered in sweat by the time they had finished. His eyes slid over to Madigan.
He wondered how the man was even sitting at this point. He had to be as exhausted and sore as the
rest of them. Surprisingly Madigan was the one who looked the most animated.
“I really should go home,” Christian murmured, sipping his water and lemon. Yuri’s heart went
out to Madigan’s friend. He’d been “dating” Azrael so the angel could get an entry into their house to
deliver a message of doom in person. The guy wasn’t taking it well for obvious reasons.
“If you want us to call you a cab to take you home, we won’t mind,” Yuri offered, smiling
gently. “You and the others would be safer outside the city.” They were three days to ground zero,
and the sooner they got out, the better.
Christian shook his head. “Can’t. I wouldn’t feel right about leaving Madigan to face this on his
own.”
“It’s not your battle to fight, Christian,” Yuri reminded. “You aren’t going to be able to
contribute much in the way of battle, and I worry about what this is doing to your state of mind.”
“You don’t know me well enough to worry,” Christian said, his blue eyes sparking with
defiance.
Yuri held up his hands in surrender. “I’m not attacking you, man.”
Christian sighed, deflating. “Christ on a Ritz cracker, I suck at being perky when I don’t feel like
it. I think I’m just going back to Mrs. Parker’s rental.” He pushed back from the table.
Madigan noticed and looked up from his place at the head of the table. “Where you going?”
“I’m calling it a night,” Christian said, pasting a smile on his face. “I’ll grab something from a
fast food joint on the way back. Not in the mood for socializing.”
Madigan didn’t look like he was buying what he was selling, but he nodded nonetheless.
“Getting a cab?”
Christian nodded. “Yep. I’ll see you later. We’re meeting at the tower Friday at seven, right?”
“Yeah,” Madigan affirmed, picking up his glass of sweet tea. “See you then.”
“Stay safe, Madigan.” With that he turned and walked out of the room. Yuri sighed. It had to
suck trying to be supportive and yet dealing with heartbreak at the same time.
“So, Yuri, Madi tells us that you are a scholar,” Mrs. Parker said, smiling. She was clearly
trying to wash away the feeling of negative energy that Christian had left behind.
“That is my function in our family, ma’am,” Yuri said, remembering his manners. “I keep the
others straight.”
She smiled. “That must be quite the task.”
“It can be.” He grinned and winked at Madigan. “They can be trouble when they want to be.”
Madigan’s face colored, and he started chugging his tea to cover it up. Yuri just laughed.
“So how is the training going?” she asked, directing her question at Yuri once again. It was odd.
Most people directed all pertinent questions at Cross even when Yuri was the one who knew the
answer. It seemed that Madigan’s mom understood the dynamic. Cross might have been a brilliant
strategist when it came to fighting, but Yuri was the brain in so many other ways that it wasn’t even
funny.
“Madigan has made some real progress in the past two days. We’ve finally figured out how the
power works, and we should have him trained up nicely for Friday’s stand.” Yuri didn’t voice the
fact that he thought that Madigan needed way more time than they had to get ready for a confrontation
with hunters. He knew better than to even go there. No one needed the reminder or the thought at all.
She clapped her hands. “Good. Raphael has been so tight-lipped about the whole thing that I got
a bit worried. Speaking of which”—she turned her head toward Madigan—“your father wants to go
for a walk with you around the city. He wanted to let you know if you wanted to join him that he
would pick you up after supper.”
Madigan glanced at his guardians, clearly seeking permission. Cross looked around the table,
and Yuri nodded his approval of the idea. No hunter in their right mind would attack a nephilim in the
presence of an archangel. It would be stupid and suicidal. Plus, Yuri was beginning to suspect that
Azrael hadn’t been exaggerating when he’d said he would give them a week. It was strange to believe
that Halloween was only three days away. He wouldn’t even know there was a holiday approaching
if it weren’t for the decorations around the various restaurants.
“I’d like that, Mom.” Madigan was really enjoying getting to know his father even if it was
under some very stressful circumstances. Raphael, from what Yuri had seen at least, was enjoying the
same. He’d never seen an archangel as tender as Raphael was toward Madigan and his mother. It was
an interesting sight. In all the time he’d been under Lord Uriel, he’d never seen him do more than give
orders and run things with all the efficiency of a general. Granted, Uriel loved books more than he
loved anything. So Yuri could probably recall a time or two where he got sentimental over a
particularly old book or obscure text, but that was the extent of his warm and fuzzies.
The waitress arrived to take their orders for their meal, and Yuri was pleased with Bren
ordered them a couple bottles of wine as well. They needed to relax a bit.
“Feels a little like the last supper, huh?” Dex asked, biting into his breadstick. Yuri looked over
the table and nodded his head in agreement.
“A bit. It’s the calm before the storm.” There would be no trick-or-treating this holiday. The real
monsters were going to be dropping in, and no one would be doing much celebrating. Barricade their
doors against the onslaught, maybe. “I just wish I could stop thinking about it. It just keeps circling in
my head like a bad dream.”
“It’s definitely surreal in a bad way,” Dex agreed. “I think everyone feels pretty similar. I mean,
we’re all putting on happy faces, but there is a real possibility that we won’t survive this.” He
swallowed. “I might be regretting not running at the moment.”
“Strength of character isn’t defined by the choices we don’t make,” Madigan said suddenly. Yuri
looked up to see him staring right at them. “We will be judged by the fact we made a stand for
something important.”
“Dead is dead, Madigan,” Yuri reminded. He didn’t point out that while Madigan would
experience true death and judgment, the rest of them would most likely be tossed headfirst into the pit.
Being thrown into hell for an angel was a fate worse than death, and even if they managed to crawl
out of it, what came out wouldn’t be whole.
Madigan raised his chin, and Yuri was struck by how similar he looked like his dad. “Not living
one’s life for fear of death is true death.”
Yuri raised his glass. “Truth. ‘Forward, the Light Brigade! Theirs not to make reply, Theirs not
to reason why, Theirs but to do & die, Into the valley of Death, Rode the six hundred.’” He quoted the
words, and they seemed infinitely appropriate in these circumstances. He took a sip of his drink.
“Alfred, Lord Tennyson really knew his shit.”
Cross snorted and shook his head. “You and your weird quotes.”
Yuri raised his eyebrows. “What? Aren’t we the six hundred? Facing phenomenal odds with
only the truth of our convictions and blazing swords to lead the way sounds like an epic story.”
Dex nodded. “One day, everyone will know the tale.” He rested his chin on the palm of his
hand. “The only question is whether or not it will be a tragedy or a beacon of hope in dark times.”
“I’ll write it,” Yuri decided. “I’ll write the history when the war is finished.” It was something
he’d been thinking about for some time now. He wanted to immortalize these moments.
“I’ll drink to that,” Bren said, pouring glasses of wine that the waitress had left for everyone a
second previously. “To making history and changing the world.”
Cross raised his glass. “Amen.”
They drank their sparkling wine, and Yuri let it linger on his tongue. These were the moments
history was made of.
Chapter Five
Michel finished running the final drill with his designated group as the clock ticked down the
hours to eight p.m. He was exhausted from his all-day workout, but he was proud of the progress
they’d made. The nephilim in this city were real fighters.
“That’s everything for today. Thanks for coming out, and don’t forget to practice at home.” The
studio they’d been using was built well, perfect material for stray nephilim power should it get out.
Marius and the others really were geniuses when it came to organizing a working space for training
nephilim.
He wondered briefly where Cross had gotten off to. From the second they stepped through the
door at Marius’s training center, they’d been whisked in opposite directions to train separate groups.
The lobby had been packed for the nine thirty class even when they’d come in, and Michel was
floored that every studio and even the stadium were packed with people ready to fight for their
homeland. It had been impressive to say the least.
“You are a great teacher,” Erik complimented, coming into the studio as Michel’s “students”
wandered out. “I was watching you on the security monitors. They were really into it.”
Michel inclined his head. “Thanks. I appreciate the ego boost, man.” He wiped the sweat off his
forehead with a towel before stretching out his wings and doing the same to his feathers. He hoped
Cross was good for flying home because he was really in the mood to get some fresh air. The studios
were relatively cool, but there was no AC unit in the world that could keep up with the sheer number
of bodies that had been crammed inside this building.
“I’m helping Jade and Axis run the night class in the amphitheater. It’s for more advanced
nephilim, but I’m hoping that I’ll be able to get something out of the lecture, too.”
“So what are you doing here now?” Michel asked, throwing his towel into the gym bag he’d
brought in with him.
Erik smiled at him, looking a bit sheepish. “I just wanted to say thanks. Plus, I’m going to mop
up the floor so nobody trips and dies on it in the meantime.”
“Ah, I see.” Michel slung his bag over his shoulder. “It’s not a problem. Everyone has to pitch
in at times like this. You and your men have something great going here. I don’t know why no one
thought of it beforehand.”
Erik shrugged. “I imagine it has something to do with the fact that most nephilim are on the run
their entire lives. We don’t think to settle and help others. If we find a place to stay, we do our best to
be invisible. Least that was the way it was before we hooked up with our former fallen and the
Elites.”
Michel nodded. He knew the circumstances of nephilim all too well. Running with Madigan
even for the amount of time they had had seemed agonizing. Survival had been the only thought in his
head despite the fact they were warriors capable of better protection than most nephilim got. “How is
Levi? Madigan mentioned that he was pretty much house bound right now.”
The nephilim shrugged. “His visions are getting sharper, more…” He shrugged again like he
was at a loss for words. “Being an oracle is hard on him. We’re supposed to be taking him to the
tower Thursday.”
Michel made a mental note to ask Yuri for details on the oracle thing again soon. “Maybe after
this is over everyone will be able to relax, huh?”
Erik smiled but it looked a little worn. “Yeah. I’m thinking a week by the beach might do it.
Mastering everything is still going to be a pain in the ass. We’re learning though. Levi came in this
morning to learn.”
“Yeah? How about you? You getting enough attention? I know Levi’s power can get a little high
maintenance.” At least that was what he’d gathered from Madigan the few times they’d talked about
it.
Erik immediately shook his head. “No way. I want to be one of the guardians. I’m no good at the
damsel in distress thing, and I’ve always helped take care of Levi. I’m getting everything I need from
my boys. You don’t need to worry about it.” He seemed so passionate about it that Michel worried
he’d offended the nephilim. He forgot that Erik had a bit of a chip on his shoulder when it came to
taking care of himself.
“I didn’t mean any offense, man. I’m just tired and trying to make conversation.” He nodded
toward the door. “You know where my other husband got up to?”
“He’s waiting for you in the lobby.” Erik went over to the storage closet and pulled out an
industrial mop and floor dryer. “Tell Madigan I said hi, would you?”
“No problem. I’ll tell him.” Michel let him get to it and strode toward the door before pulling it
open and stepping out into the hallway. Axis, the leader of the Elite angels who Erik, Levi, and
Marius had hooked up with, nodded his head in greeting as they passed in the hallway. He imagined
their relationship was just as complicated and wonderful as the one he had with his lovers, but he
couldn’t help but wonder how the dynamic worked. After all, unlike Marius, Levi, and Erik, they
hadn’t all been lovers before and brought in another group into their love nest.
“Michel,” a familiar voice called out. He raised his head to see his redheaded lover waving at
him by the receptionist desk.
“Ready?” Michel asked, turning the corner to enter the main lobby. His eyes snagged on Levi,
who was typing away on the laptop at the front desk. “Hey, Levi. Sorry, I didn’t see you there.”
“It’s okay,” Levi said, not looking up. “You’re tired.” He raised his eyes from the screen. “Tell
Madigan that sometimes the best thing to do when you’re unsure is to jump.”
He blinked. “Prophecy?”
Levi shrugged. “Just some friendly advice.” He turned his attention back to the screen and went
silent. He looked at Cross, who shrugged as if to say “I don’t know either” and nodded his head
toward the door.
“You feel like flying?” Cross asked as they stepped out into the darkness of the city. Urun was
surprisingly quiet at night, its residents still far too cautious to be caught out and about unawares just
in case sanctuary proved to be less than safe.
Michel nodded. “Yeah. I’m beat, but the thought of sitting in a vehicle makes my wings itch.”
His breath puffed out in a visible stream. The cold air felt phenomenal against his hot skin. “I kind of
want to fly.”
Cross nodded. “Sounds like a good idea to me. I need to stretch my wings and cool off as well.”
He took a running jump and lifted himself up into the air, his wings making one hell of a downdraft as
he did. Michel followed suit and lifted himself up into the air.
He followed just behind Cross as they rose higher into the air, the tops of the buildings thirty
feet below them as they followed the roads to their street. The townhouse would be a welcome sight.
He could think of nothing better than a bubble bath and some serious snooze-time with his loved
ones. He groaned at the thought of warm water. He had absolutely no clue how he had survived the
dark ages. He’d gone weeks and months without a bath then. He cringed at the thought. Of course
everyone had been that way, but still. The thought made his skin crawl now.
Cross dove toward the ground, tucking his wings back to free fall downward. Michel couldn’t
help but admire his form. The angel was quite graceful in the air. He tucked his wings and followed
him. He wondered if Madigan would ever get his own set of wings. Madigan really liked flying. He
smiled at the thought. Madigan would probably be just as graceful as Cross. It seemed that all of
Raphael’s angels shared that grace in flight.
“You think Madigan will get a set of wings?” he asked as they landed neatly on the sidewalk.
With a thought, his wings disappeared into his back.
Cross shrugged. “Who can say? Only the strongest nephilim get wings, and even then it’s rare. If
we’re talking about just sheer physical power, I suppose he has a fair chance. He was tossing us
around with it today really nicely.”
Michel nodded his agreement. “He was really something.” He’d seen nephilim with unlocked
power before, but none of them had Madigan’s raw talent.
“Yeah. He’s going to be a hell of a warrior.” Cross rolled his shoulders forward.
“Want me to give you a back rub after showers?” Michel asked.
“It’s all right. The hot water will unknot them for the most part. I don’t want to get too spoiled
by you.” His lover winked and ascended the steps before giving a quick knock on the door.
The sounds of footsteps on the inside sounded, and the door opened a split second later. “About
time,” Bren rumbled, a sullen expression painted all over his face. “We were about to come looking
for you two.”
Michel chuckled. “We missed you, too.” Bren always pouted when he was worried about
something. It was just his way. He stepped into the foyer and gave a sigh of utter contentment. He was
home. At last.
* * * *
Madigan walked beside his dad, exploring the city and discovering exactly what it had to offer
in the way of shops and other treasures. He found the community theater particularly amusing since
they were hosting a live-action version of Rocky Horror as the Halloween special.
“I could really get used to living here.” He hadn’t really been allowed to explore the city on his
own. Unfortunately, his overprotective lovers only allowed for so much wandering when it came to
unscheduled trips outside. It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate their loving attention. He did. It would
just be nice if he didn’t have to worry about things like assassins or hunters or a million other things
that seemed so normal now. It was hard to believe that it had only been a few months since he’d been
thrown into this life. He’d only been with his husbands that long, and that alone was pretty startling.
He felt like they’d been together forever at this point. They’d gone through hell and back with one
another, and it didn’t seem possible that their relationship could be measured in a fraction like
months.
Raphael glanced sideways at him. “This is your home now. I figured you hadn’t had the
chance to explore though. I wanted to show you the city before the hunters damaged it.”
Madigan wasn’t naive enough to think that the city would remain unscathed. “I hope they don’t,”
he whispered. “Dad?”
Raphael startled at the word. “Yes?”
“I’m scared. I don’t know if that’s okay, but I am.” He figured he had to keep up the brave face
for everyone else, but his dad was sturdy enough to handle the truth. It was still weird to think of
Raphael as a father, but he was getting used to the idea.
The archangel put his arm around Madigan’s shoulders. “It’s natural to be afraid of the battle
to come. I am afraid of the battle to come.” Somehow knowing that was enough. He was comforted
by the fact that his father and he shared the same fear. “Now, enough talk about battles and angels
and fears. Want to do something fun?”
Madigan looked up at him. “Sure.”
Even in the dim light of the street lamps, Raphael’s eyes sparkled. “Close your eyes. I’m going
to teach you how an archangel flies.”
* * * *
He stumbled into the house at ten p.m., swimming in the power he and his dad had been playing
with. They’d appeared and disappeared all over town, in people’s houses, at the tower even. They’d
startled fallen, human, angel, and nephilim alike in their little skate through their small world. It
seemed the more he used the power, the easier it was to use and the more fun it was. He snickered as
he took in the quiet house. His lovers had fallen asleep in the living room, waiting up for him no
doubt.
“All right,” his father whispered, giving him a conspiratorial wink. “I’ll see you tomorrow at
the tower. My troops should be there relatively early, but I’ll be in to address them.”
“Okay,” Madigan said, grinning. He had a lot of fun with Raphael tonight. They were much more
alike than he’d expected, and Raphael had promised to have a father-son outing with him at least once
a week from now on.
Raphael ruffled his hair and winked. “Behave.”
“What fun would that be?” Madigan asked, trying to stuff the power back into the box where he
kept it in his mind. All of it wouldn’t go of course. Once the box was opened, it was impossible to
fully shut it again. But he needed to keep his power signature under control so as not to mess with his
angels too much.
His father chuckled. “Good point. Good night, Madi.”
In a blink he was gone.
Madigan yawned, stretching as a wave of tiredness washed over him. It had been an
extraordinarily long day. Early to bed and early to rise might’ve been his philosophy for the past
twenty-eight years, but apparently this week it was going to be early to rise, never to sleep. He went
into the living room quietly. His lovers were adorable all sprawled out like they were. The only man
left standing, figuratively speaking, was Bren, who was mindlessly staring at an infomercial about
OxiClean.
“Hey,” he greeted, his voice a whisper.
Bren jumped before turning his head in Madigan’s direction. “Christ, you scared me. I didn’t
hear the front door.”
Madigan shrugged. “Didn’t use it. Want to get all our beautiful boys up to bed?”
Bren snorted, shoving Michel’s shoulder. The man didn’t move. “Good luck. I tried to get them
up an hour ago but no dice. Cross and Michel were both out like a light right after shower time.”
“Aw,” Madigan pouted. “I’m very disappointed I missed shower time.” He loved doing the
shower thing with his lovers. It relaxed him.
“I will happily volunteer my services,” Bren said. “I was going to just shower in the morning,
but you have convinced me.” He quietly untangled himself from Michel and Yuri before gaining his
feet. He had to hopscotch over Dex, who was snoring on the floor, but somehow managed to get over
to Madigan without waking everyone up. “We’ll wake them after the shower. Okay?”
Madigan nodded. “Sounds good.”
They padded toward the stairs and took a right toward the second-floor bathroom. It was the
smaller one in the house and would only fit two or three of them if they really tried. They usually used
the one on the top floor that had enough to fit every one of them, but it was unnecessary given that it
was just him and Bren.
“So how was the outing with dear old Dad?” Bren asked as he shut the bathroom door behind
them. Madigan checked for towels before turning toward the shower and twisting the knob to turn it
on.
“Good. We had a lot of fun.” He checked the water with his hand before stepping into the spray.
Bren crowded in behind him, and everything in him settled. He felt safe when his lovers bathed with
him. “I feel like everything is going to be all right.”
“Is that a confidence thing or just a hunch?” Bren asked, running his hands down Madigan’s
back. “Hand me the soap.”
Madigan passed the soap back to him and turned so that his face was lifted toward the spray. “A
little of both I think. I can do some amazing things. We really have a chance to change the world. How
many people can say that?”
Bren’s soapy hands ran down his back and worked along his muscles. “Just us, babe. Just us.”
* * * *
“Holy hell,” Dex breathed as they approached the tower. The sheer number of people outside
the tower was amazing. He hadn’t seen this many angels in one place since the battle of Babylon a
couple thousand years ago. His eyes widened as he realized that they stretched around the building. It
looked like Lord Gabriel’s reapers had arrived. He strained and saw Uriel’s troops had assembled as
well.
“You’re not kidding,” Yuri murmured, taking in the sight. “The security is going to be an
absolute nightmare.”
Cross pointed his fingers in a vee, the signal for them to get into that formation. “Stay close,
guys. I don’t want anyone to get a finger near our Madigan.”
Madigan sighed. “You know I can just blink up to the tower ahead of you guys, right?”
“No.” Cross’s voice was final.
Dex was actually on Madigan’s side in this particular instance, but he was under Cross’s
command and wouldn’t argue with him on the subject. He got into formation and scanned the
surrounding area for any hint that they were going to be attacked. Everyone just seemed to be milling
about, waiting for orders. It would be a familiar sight if they were outside one of the archangels’
domains. Seeing it on a street in Urun was a sight to behold.
Scepta hopped up on a nearby wall and waved his arms once. A light went up like a beacon, and
everyone turned to him in unison. Cross held up his hand as they reached the outskirts of the crowd to
make them stop. It wasn’t even seven a.m. yet, and while that might not have been significant to their
group on a normal day, he was bone tired already and really didn’t want to waste any more time
hanging around in the frigid air, waiting for everybody and their mother to get out of the way.
“Good morning!” Scepta greeted with an inordinate amount of cheerfulness. “We’re very
grateful all of you could make the journey to join us. I need to get a record of everyone so that we can
divide up the troops for hotel accommodations. The fighting isn’t slated to start until Friday, but we
want everyone comfortable until then. So, can all of you go to your designated unit leader and form
some kind of a line? I need you to come into the building in units of twenty or so. We’ll make hotel
arrangements then.” The angels seemed to hesitate for the barest second before the commanders of the
various factions started barking out roll calls. Scepta rubbed his jaw and looked out onto the rest of
the assembled crowd. “Oh and anyone who is here for the militia, please, proceed to the elevator or
stairs and go up to the sixth floor. My fathers are waiting to make assignments.” He searched the
crowd as another bunch of people started moving in the direction of the entrance. Dex was the tallest
of the bunch, so he waved. Scepta must’ve seen them because the redheaded halfling raised his hand
in greeting before hopping down and disappearing into the crowd.
“So these are our warriors?” Madigan asked excitedly.
Dex chuckled. “Yep. My choir and Yuri’s choir to be precise. I wouldn’t be surprised if the
other archangels’ troops don’t start dropping in soon. Our fair city is about to be overrun.” He had no
idea where they were going to do battle, but he imagined it would emanate out from the tower. It was
the most easily defended.
Scepta pushed through the crowd and came to stand in front of their formation. “There is no way
you’re getting through all this mess. Raphael’s troops were the only ones supposed to be arriving
today. Organizing accommodations is going to be an absolute nightmare.” He glanced at his Rolex.
“Crap. You’re already late. Just fly Madigan up to the roof. There is an entrance there. The code is
#9763. If you don’t use the pound sign, it won’t let you in, so don’t forget.”
Cross nodded. “All right. You going to be okay down here?”
Scepta looked peeved by the mere suggestion that this was a situation he couldn’t handle. “I’ve
got this under control. It will take more than a few hundred angels to fuck my day up. This is actually
the second batch that I’ve done this morning. The first ones arrived at four a.m. and got me out of
bed.” He sighed. “Oh well. Anyway, good luck today.”
Dex wasn’t sure why they would need luck, but he appreciated the sentiment nonetheless. He
glanced over at his Madigan. He’d been worked really hard yesterday. It worried him that he seemed
so calm. He didn’t know if Madigan was just stressed and not saying anything or if he was genuinely
all right with what was going on.
Madigan must’ve caught him looking because he offered up a warm smile that was filled with
love to bursting. He was a sweet boy, and Dex loved being a part of his life.
“All right, boys. You heard the man,” Cross barked. The man really did turn into a drill sergeant
whenever he was stressed. “Up we go. Keep tight to formation. Dex, carry Madigan. You may be the
biggest target, but you’re the sturdiest.” Dex certainly didn’t mind being the one to hold onto his
Madigan.
He opened his arms, and Madigan immediately jumped into them, no hesitation whatsoever. He
loved that most about Madigan. He trusted them absolutely and never wondered if it was okay to do
something they suggested. Granted, he had his moments of rebellion, but Dex didn’t know if he would
fare any better put in the same circumstance. In fact, he thought Madigan handled everything with
relative grace given how many restrictions they’d had to levy on him in the last few weeks. Coming to
Urun was supposed to be somewhat of a break, but it was still a gilded cage, one that none of them
trusted wouldn’t crumble if the hunters got creative.
“What you thinking about, Dex?” Madigan asked as the others stripped off their shirts before
tucking them into their pockets. He let go of Dex’s shoulders so he could do the same. The sigils on
his back shimmered before his wings unfurled from their hiding place.
Dex shrugged, wrapping Madigan’s legs around his waist. “I don’t know. I suppose I’m thinking
of the life I want to give you. Real freedom. The works.”
“No worries,” Madigan said, his optimism practically seeping out of his pores. “When this is
over, we’ll have it.”
Dex kissed his cheek and started to pump his wings. Getting off the ground without a running
start was hard enough. Carrying a passenger was doubly hard, and it took him a minute to manage it
and stay in line with the others as he rose. He really needed to exercise his wings more often. His
body was chiseled perfection, but all the walking wasn’t doing much for his flight.
Bren circled below, keeping an eye on the crowd, as Michel and Yuri circled Dex and Madigan
while Cross was above them by a few feet. It was a pretty standard pattern of protection. As
guardians, they’d had to carry special cargo before.
“So what do you think the holdup is with Lucifer and Michael’s choirs?” Yuri wondered as they
reached the top of the tower and gently sat down on the graveled surface.
Dex shrugged, putting Madigan back on his feet. “Creator only knows.”
“It’s probably some stupid competition,” Bren offered, touching down beside them. “You know
how they are. My lord for one wouldn’t dream of letting Michael gather more troops than him.
They’re probably waiting to send them on until the last possible second.”
“That’s fucking stupid,” Madigan grumbled. “What if they’re late?”
Bren grinned. “Knowing Archangel Michael’s habits, it’s possible. He always just seems to
show up at the most critical point.”
Michel huffed. “Not true. Come on, Bren. Quit spreading stupidity about my archangel.”
“Touchy, touchy,” Bren teased.
Dex laughed at his lover’s byplay. “You really are trouble, Bren.”
The door to the building opened, and everyone tensed, Dex included. He stepped protectively in
front of Madigan only to relax as Daisis came through the door.
The archseraphim held up his hands. “I’m sorry to startle you. I saw you bypassed the mess
downstairs and thought to come out here to greet you.”
Dex frowned. “Why?”
“Well, to be honest, there has been a minor glitch in our plan.”
Cross shifted as Dex’s uneasiness grew. “What sort of glitch?” he asked.
Daisis stepped aside, and two men he’d never seen before stepped onto the roof. “These two
gentlemen are the unofficial leaders of the damned in our fair city.”
Dex felt a growl building in the back of his throat. “Demons,” he spat. “What do demons want
with us, and why does it concern our plans?”
“Rayl is a demon lord actually. So he’s quite a bit higher up on the food chain than the run-of-
the-mill demon. He doesn’t think our Madigan—” He paused clearly searching for a word. “How did
you put it, Rayl?”
The golden-eyed, black-haired hellspawn gave a slow grin that was two parts sex and one part
pure evil. “Some of the demons don’t believe he’s got the juice. We understand he’s got politics on
his side. Half of heaven is in the damn lobby. But they want to make sure our fearless leader is going
to have the stones to stand against Azrael’s army. After all, demons don’t stick their necks out for
much that doesn’t benefit them.”
He was stunned into silence for a good ten seconds before Bren snarled. “You’ve got to be
kidding me. You’re challenging him to some kind of pissing contest because you demons don’t think
he’s good enough? Fuck you. You and your demons hit tail and get the fuck out.”
Rayl’s nostrils flared. “Here is the thing, boy.” Something about the way he called Bren “boy”
made Dex’s hackles rise. “We are survivors first and foremost. So you see, our loyalties lay with the
highest bidder. If demons doubt your Madigan Parker can do it, we’ll side with Az’s bunch. They
won’t like it, but they sure as fuck don’t want us against them. They’ve already sent some messengers
to my occult shop in an effort to curry favor. I’ve held them off for now, but there is going to have to
be some kind of display of power.”
“What the fuck,” Michel rumbled. “That is some seriously screwed up footwork you’re tap
dancing over there, friend.”
Rayl shrugged. “Look, I don’t make the rules and I don’t dictate what happens to demons when
they’re pushed into a corner. I’m the strongest of the bunch. You want their loyalty, knock me on my
ass. If you can’t, well, then the oracle is wrong and I for one will get the hell out of Dodge while the
getting is good.”
“No,” Dex said. He was not going to risk Madigan two days before a fight he clearly wasn’t
ready for. “No way, no how. You and the rest of the demons can side with whoever you want.”
Madigan pushed him aside and looked at Daisis. “Can we win without them?”
Daisis tilted his head to the side like he was looking at something they couldn’t see. He
shrugged. “The future is still very cloudy. One possibility says yes. The other says no. It will have to
be your choice in this matter that dictates that outcome.”
Dex cursed violently. “No. Madigan, I don’t care what the future says, it’s not happening.” He
might as well have been talking to a building for all his words did to deter the straightening of
Madigan’s spine.
“If there is even the slightest possibility of failure, I can’t in good conscience turn it down.” He
turned around so that he faced his lovers. “Don’t you see, if I fail to fight now, we might lose. Please,
support me in this.”
“They could harm you,” Cross reasoned. “We’re your guardians. Don’t you see that this is an
impossible decision? We can’t, Madigan. Demons don’t play fair, and I would never allow you to
fight one, strong or not.”
Madigan made a noise of frustration, his eyebrows lowering in stubbornness. “Cross, I could
die in a few days’ time. Hell, I could die today. I could choke on a pretzel and kick it. Life is a bitch
like that. Let me do this.” Everything in Dex rebelled at the thought of his lover being in harm’s way.
Every molecule of his being protested it. “Please,” Madigan pleaded. “Please support me in this.”
Dex sighed, letting out his frustration in an audible whoosh of sound. “Fine. You have my
support.”
Cross looked at him like he’d lost his mind. “You’ve got to be joking.”
“I’m not,” Dex said. Betrayal glittered in his other lovers’ expressions. To them it might seem
like he was going against the grain, but Madigan was right. “He needs to know he can stand on his
own. He has the powers of an archangel. He can do this.” He nodded toward Madigan. “Go get ’em,
babe.”
“No,” Cross barked, advancing on Madigan. Dex stepped in his way at the same time Daisis
held up his hand.
“Enough,” the archseraphim said. “Squabbling is unnecessary. Madigan has made his decision,
and one of your own has endorsed it. That is good enough for me. We’ll be right back.”
Dex whipped around. “What do you mean ‘back’?”
Daisis snapped his fingers and they disappeared.
“Motherfucker!”
Chapter Six
Madigan blinked as his vision recalculated to the light or lack thereof in his new surroundings. It
looked like they were in an old warehouse of some kind. Rayl and the other guy were on the opposite
end of some kind of scaffolding rig. Daisis stood in between them. Somewhere in the massive space,
water dripped, and the air smelled just a little bit stale like it hadn’t been exposed to the outside for
some time.
“Where is this place?” Madigan asked, trying to get his bearings. He hadn’t seen any empty
buildings in Urun, but that wasn’t saying much. He knew very little about the city’s outskirts.
“This is where demons come to kick back and have a little fun,” Rayl answered, walking in his
direction. “We come here for the underground fights that Daisis won’t give us a permit for.” He
grinned and nodded his head in Daisis’s direction. “Good choice.”
“So it’s on your home turf. How is that fair?”
“Nothing in a fight with a demon is fair, Madigan,” Daisis reminded, putting his hands on the
railing. “Nor is it with hunters for that matter. However, this is as fair as I can make it. We’ll go
down to the ground level, and you two will have an uninterrupted fight until the other concedes.”
“No witnesses?” Madigan asked. “I figured they’d need proof.”
“Oh trust me, stud, there will be proof,” Rayl said, cracking his knuckles. “I won’t lie about
losing, and if I win, well, I’ll brag about what a bitch you are. Easy peasy.”
Madigan resisted the urge to roll his eyes but barely. “So this really is a big pissing contest.”
“Hey, if it helps, I’m on your side. If you really have the power people seem to think you do, I
will be all in with guns blazin’. If not, well, I ain’t a sucker. Feel me?” The guy talked and swaggered
like a thug, but there was something just a mite too calculating in his gaze, a bit too intelligent.
“So what does a demon lord do exactly?” Madigan asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.
Rayl laughed. “Keeps the peace in hell, follows Lucifer’s orders, keeps the hellions in line.
What else? What’s with the twenty questions? You going to talk me to death or fight?”
Madigan shrugged. “Hey, know your enemy right?”
“Suga,” Rayl drawled. “You could work a thousand years at your twenty questions and still not
manage to know a tenth about me.”
With a thought, Madigan moved himself to the floor of the building and looked back up.
“Coming?” The confidence wasn’t entirely there. He was nervous and scared enough to piss himself.
Without his lovers around, he felt exposed, and Rayl was as big as a damn Mack truck. He took a
deep breath. It didn’t matter He didn’t have to use his fists against the dude. He summoned up his
power and let it simmer just beneath the surface.
Rayl didn’t answer. Instead he just jumped over the railing and fell through the air the fifteen
feet to the floor. He landed with a crunch that made Madigan wince. Holy crap.
Rayl grinned. “Let’s tango.”
A thousand small reminders flashed through Madigan’s head from Daisis and the horsemen’s
lessons from the days before. Even Raphael’s jaunt last night had taught him a thing or two about his
powers. Rayl felt old, older than his lovers at any rate and way meaner. Whatever power was pulsing
in his aura felt just wrong. In fact, it was curiously reminiscent of the dust that the archseraphim’s
lovers had scattered around him to awaken his power to begin with. That dust had been from hell’s
home turf, which made sense since Rayl was a demon lord.
Rayl raised his hand and a sword composed of crackling black flame erupted from his fist.
Madigan took a step back, wishing like hell that he had his guardians with him. I can do this. He
wasn’t a swordsman, but he was a pretty good marksman. He concentrated on making a ball in his
fist, and his angel fire burst forth, engulfing his arms and body. His clothes burned, but his flesh
didn’t.
The demon raised an eyebrow before pointing his weapon at Madigan. Without warning, the fire
erupted in a long streak, and Madigan threw up his hands to protect himself. The stream of angel fire
clashed with the black and smoldered, filling the air with the smell of burning wood and sulfur,
thickening the air until he nearly gagged. He examined the energy that made up the demon’s weaponry
and found the weak thread in it. He pulled hard, commanding the whole mess to fall apart.
Rayl screamed as the flame vanished. Madigan used the opportunity to toss a ball of his heat into
the center of his chest. The demon frantically beat at the flame, snarling as the fire burned away his
clothing, leaving them in tatters. He raised his hand. “I yield. No fucking way am I taking that again.”
The power finally went out on his skin, leaving behind painful looking blisters and scorched flesh.
“The oracle is right. He can lead us just fine.”
Daisis appeared between them. “You should have taken my word for it, Rayl. I did warn you
that he was stronger than his father.”
“You did. I needed him to prove it though.” Rayl looked up at the scaffold where his companion
still stood unmoving. “Go tell the others, Zeke. Tell them we’re getting our war on.”
The other man nodded. Daisis smiled. “Excellent. Then let’s return to Madigan’s lovers before
they have a heart attack.” He paused. “I was sure battle with a demon would make you get your
wings. Oh well. I have another plan.”
God, save me from Daisis and his plans.
* * * *
Bren swung at Dex, his temper lost as Madigan disappeared. “You stupid fuck. We needed to be
united. Madigan never fights us all at the same time. He trusts us to make the correct decisions for
him!”
Dex dodged his swing but barely. “He needed our support. He has to battle in two days!”
“And you think making him tango with a fucking demon beforehand is a good idea?” Bren
snarled. He wanted to beat some sense into his other lover. He needed to.
“Enough,” Cross shouted, stepping between them. “We are not brawling on a rooftop over this.
Dex, you and I are going to have a serious powwow tonight about breaking rank, but I can understand
why you did it. Bren, calm the fuck down.”
“What if he dies? What if that demon kills him before the battle is even slated to start?” Bren
demanded, his anger boiling over to froth in his chest.
“Daisis won’t let that happen,” Michel whispered, his fists balled at his side. “He better not let
it happen.”
“Fuck you all,” Bren snapped. “I’m going to go find him.” He turned to jump off the roof only to
have his left wing grabbed by Cross.
“Don’t. We’re always together, Trouble. We need to stay together. I love you.” Cross’s strong
arms wrapped around him, and as much as Bren wanted to push away, he wanted to bring him closer.
He yielded as his anger deflated. Michel crowded his back, and he was ensconced in 180 degrees of
angel heat. Dex and Yuri came up on his sides, and he yielded to their touch as well, drawing comfort
from their combined embrace.
“I love you guys,” Bren said, shaking. He raised his eyes toward the rising sun and blinked.
“Holy shit!”
The others looked in the same direction and gasped. Madigan and Daisis appeared about fifteen
feet higher than the tower. Daisis was nothing but a blur of light in the sky, his true form lighting up
the early morning like a freaking signpost from god. Bren screamed as he let Madigan drop. He ran
for the edge of the building, willing his wings to break the sigils. But he couldn’t. He skidded to a
stop at the building’s edge.
“Fuck! Fuck!” He watched his lover plummet, helpless to stop what was happening. He sent up
a reckless prayer to his archangel, the Creator, and anyone else who was listening before he dove off
the roof.
He reached out for his lover, desperate to be between him and the ground when it came. The fall
wouldn’t kill him, but it would certainly break him in a way that would take a hell of a long time to
recover from.
He closed his eyes as his hands found Madigan, wrapping around his waist, before he twisted so
that his back was facing toward the ground. Madigan was still young, fragile. Too much could go
wrong if he hit. He could very well die. Bren really didn’t give a damn about himself so long as
Madigan was all right. He tried to tell Madigan that it was going to be okay, but he wasn’t entirely
sure that it was going to be. Not to mention everything was whipping by so fast that he wasn’t positive
that he had time to get the words out before they smacked the ground.
“I love you,” Bren managed as the ground rushed up. He squeezed his eyes shut and waited for
the impact to happen.
Something caused them to slow their descent. At first he thought it was one of his lovers or
maybe Daisis himself that had plucked them out of the sky. His eyes shot open at the sound of wings.
He was stunned speechless for a full minute at what he saw. Madigan panted, his expression fierce
and determined as wings the color of blood tipped in ivory spread out behind him like the plumage of
an exotic bird from warmer climes.
“Madi, you have wings,” he said, dumbstruck as they rose unsteadily into the air.
“No shit. Motherfucker that was painful. My back feels like it’s on fire.” The words were
breathless, and Bren could easily see why. A newling’s wings weren’t that strong to begin with. Add
Bren’s bulk to the mix, and he wasn’t entirely sure how in the hell he was staying aloft at this point.
“Madigan, you’re flying.” Okay. Maybe he wasn’t exactly on par with his normal amount of
witty quips today. They rose slowly, falling every so often as Madigan struggled to get them to the
roof.
Dex reached out to them, grabbing them both and hauling them the last two feet onto the gravel
building top. They landed hard on the rocks, but Bren barely felt it as he examined his lover’s new
appendages. He pressed kisses over Madigan’s red face, beyond thankful that they were both all right.
“Madigan,” Bren murmured as Madigan threw his arms around Bren’s shoulders and held on
tight. Dex wrapped his arms around the both of them, pressed tight to Bren’s back. It seemed that
today was a damn fine day for hugs. And stress.
Michel rounded on Daisis as he landed elegantly on the roof, a sword of fire appearing in his
hand. “You son of a bitch!” he shouted. “You could’ve killed them both! What the hell is wrong with
you?”
Daisis’s angelic form faded, and his human one remained, his unapologetic silver gaze absolute.
“I found a way to give him his wings. I knew that he would react to falling. It’s no different than
pushing a baby bird out of a nest. We had to do that with a few other nephilim in the years since
we’ve been here. Usually they’re a couple hundred years old, but Madigan was ready in every other
way. I never would’ve let him actually hit the ground. Raphael would be most unhappy with me if I
busted open his favored son’s skull.”
Michel snarled. “I’m going to bust open your fucking skull if you ever try to pull something like
that again. Jesus, do you not see how fragile he is?”
Daisis all but rolled his eyes. “You’re being dramatic. Your lover has just proven himself to be
one of the strongest creatures in all of Urun. I think it is more than acceptable for me to do what I had
planned. He bested one of the demon lords and came out without a scratch. I think he has more than
proven himself to be capable.”
“You’re fucking insane!” Michel shouted. He looked pissed enough to throw down, and Bren
couldn’t rightfully blame him. He would be just as pissed as soon as the shock of seeing Madigan in
full angelic glory wore off. He even had the glow of an archangel at this point. It was magnificent.
“You can’t argue with his results,” he muttered, clinging to Madigan. “You’re really hot like
this, bright eyes. Think you can summon them again on your own?”
“I have to get rid of them first,” Madigan said, pulling back slightly. “How do I tuck them
back?” He looked at Bren like he was going to impart some mythical wisdom on him. He wasn’t.
“The sigils will have to be inked on before you can put them away. At least that’s how it works
for angels.” He turned his head to Cross, who knelt beside them, unmoving, staring at Madigan like
he’d grown another head. “Hey, commander, how do nephilim put up their wings?”
“Um, I have no idea.” Cross blinked. “I want to touch you.”
Madigan shifted, shooting Cross a look like he was acting a little barmy. “Erm, I don’t think
they’re going to bite, so you go right ahead.”
Bren chuckled at that. Oh Madigan was in for a surprise because touching wings wasn’t just
stroking an arm or an elbow. It was an allover body experience. He should’ve known that given the
fact that he liked to stroke their wings when they fucked him. Did he think they just moaned and
carried on like that because they were being playful?
Madigan gasped as Cross stroked his hand along the curve of one wing, the instant evidence of
his desire obvious as it dug into Bren’s stomach. He groaned. “Oh shit. Uh, Cross, wow. I—uh, fuck
me that feels…”
“Like you’re going to come?” Bren teased, giving his pert ass a squeeze. “Now you will get
payback for every time you did it to us.”
“This is absolutely fascinating,” Yuri said, his voice filled with the same scientific curiosity it
was when he discovered a new human invention that he could play with. “Your wings are beautiful,
but the triggers are different.”
“Different folks, different strokes, or something like that,” Bren muttered. He, for one, was going
to have fun with Madigan’s new toys.
Yuri turned toward Daisis. “How does the biology differ? They look slightly wider than ours.”
He tapped Michel on the shoulder. “Stop waving that thing around. You’re going to burn something.”
“Him,” Michel growled.
“He had to be battle ready,” Yuri said gently, stroking his hand down Michel’s back. “Granted,
his methods are rather unorthodox, but we can’t argue with the results.”
Michel huffed and snuffed out his sword. “Fine. Keep him away from me.” He started muttering
under his breath a no doubt uncomplimentary opinion of Daisis and all his antics over the past several
days.
“So the biology,” Yuri began, his eyes shining with the desire to know more. Leave it up to him
to be fascinated by the whole process.
Bren sighed and just held his lovers close. “I hate to inform all the above parties, but I’m
seriously wrecked right now. I don’t want to train. I don’t want to do anything but go home and hide
out until Friday.”
Cross continued to stroke Madigan’s wings, making him squirm. “I don’t think that is an option
at this point. We need to be ready. However, I think we can call it an early day. How about that?”
“I need to work out my wings and see how it’s going to work while I fight,” Madigan added,
leaning back into Cross’s touch. “Though, erm, you’re going to have to knock that off because I’m
already hard enough to fuck through a brick building. Man, that feels good.”
“Sorry,” Cross mumbled, drawing his hands back. “They’re just very soft and it’s the only part I
haven’t touched before.”
“Truth,” Bren added. He raised his head. “Daisis, do you think you could drop us in the training
yard we used yesterday?” He thought about it for a second. “And can you leave us some supplies this
time?”
Yuri looked annoyed at the interruption, but he could get over it. He could pick Daisis’s brain
about nephilim biology at a later date.
Daisis nodded. “What do you need?”
“A watercooler, some towels, first aid kit, and some lube.” Bren rattled off his list expertly. He
knew exactly what he and his men would need for the next few hours. “Oh and are the horsemen
coming?”
“They are training over at the center with the Elites,” Daisis said. He tapped his chin
thoughtfully. “I’ll go get your supplies first and then come back for you. I’ll return momentarily.”
He blinked out of existence, and Yuri rounded on him. “Lube? Really, Trouble?”
“Are you kidding?” Bren asked, a grin stretching across his lips. “Madigan is all hulked out and
angel-fied. I kind of want to hump his leg already. Can you imagine going through drills with him?”
All the guardians sighed in appreciation, and Madigan’s whole face went red.
“Thanks, guys. Good to know the getting strong thing was the key to all the above parties’
libidos.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Seriously, I live with a bunch of horndogs.”
“You’re one to talk, bright eyes.” Bren gave his still half-hard cock a stroke. “Last time I
checked, you jump us more often than not.”
Madigan shrugged. “That’s beside the point. How am I supposed to behave when I’m constantly
surrounded by five delicious guardians?” He grinned. “I’m stronger than you guys now though, huh?”
Bren laughed. He couldn’t help it. “Want to test that theory, bright eyes? Want to play after
drills? Us against you, once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.”
He could see the excitement as it washed through Madigan’s being. “Hell yeah. I beat a fucking
demon. You guys are going to be a piece of cake.”
Cross and he exchanged glances. “A piece of cake, are we?” Cross rumbled in mock annoyance.
“Well, we’ll just have to see about that.”
“What do I get if I win?” Madigan asked, practically vibrating now. He might not have started
off as a warrior, but he was well on his way to becoming one. The attitude alone made up ninety
percent of it. He was going to enjoy playing their nephilim lover. Where he had strength, they had
numbers and experience.
“A combined blow job,” Bren offered. Their Madigan enjoyed when they got on their knees for
him.
Madigan shook his head. “Not for something like this. I want something special if I’m able to
win.”
“What do you have in mind, bright eyes?” Bren asked. He was apparently designated negotiator.
“Do you think, um, maybe I could…” He trailed off, but Bren was having none of it.
“Spit it out, babe. We’re not going to be mad at you or anything. Promise.” There was nothing
that Madigan had suggested yet that he hadn’t liked.
“I want to fuck one of you,” Madigan said, his eyes darting off to the side as blush colored his
cheeks. “I don’t normally like to top but…”
“Of course,” Cross answered for him since Madigan had once again stunned Bren to
speechlessness. “You may have any of us you please.” An agreement went through the other men, and
the smell of lust permeated the air. Bren couldn’t speak. Every usable brain cell had shut down, and
his thoughts had been redirected to the erection he was now sporting. Before he’d met Madigan, he
never would’ve considered it, but since learning the pleasures of both topping and bottoming, to say
he was intrigued by the idea of letting Madigan claim his ass was a vast understatement.
“Bren?” Madigan asked, shifting on his lap. “If you don’t want to, you don’t have to.”
Finally Bren snapped out of it. “Fuck yes I want to do it. Are you kidding me? You can have me
right fucking now.” Cross snickered, and Madigan gave him a relieved smile.
“Oh good. I thought you didn’t like the idea or something.” He leaned forward and pressed his
lips to Bren’s own.
Bren tightened his grip, pushing his hard cock against Madigan’s belly. “Everything between us
is right, remember? You taught me that. Bottoming doesn’t make me less because it’s you.” He looked
forward to seeing this new side of Madigan. He smiled. “How about this, if we win, you can still fuck
one of us. However, we get to choose who fucks you at the same time.”
Madigan laughed. “But I might want that anyway.”
“We’ll then it works out just fine then, doesn’t it?” Bren asked, grinning. Madigan rolled his
eyes and leaned back into Cross as the commander started nibbling on his neck. He loved their
family. He truly did.
* * * *
Daisis dropped them in the middle of nowhere as promised. A table of Bren’s items sat at one
end of the field, waiting for their use. The archseraphim promised to be back in three hours to check
on them and then flashed out to do whatever it was he did during the day.
After running the drills for the first hour and a half, Cross was finally satisfied enough with their
formations to let them have a water break, and Madigan was really thankful for it. He was dying of
thirst and more than a little dehydrated. His wings ached in a way that was vastly unpleasant, and he
felt like he’d been beaten to death.
“Come on, Madi,” Michel teased, dumping his cup of water over his head and slicking back his
hair. Despite the coldness of the outside, they were all dripping sweat. “You beat a demon,
remember? You’re amazing.”
Madigan chuckled before draining his own cup. “I am amazing. However, long periods of
running drills and fighting imaginary enemies is no bueno. I’m pooped.” He stretched his wings out
and groaned as the joint popped.
“The muscles in your back and wings will have to get used to the exercise. Good thing we won’t
be needing any sort of aerial battle in the meantime. Have you tried to tuck them away again?” Michel
asked, looking at him expectantly. Madigan sighed. Yuri said it should be as simple as thinking
himself back into his human state, but he had no idea what that meant. He’d tried every which way to
picture his back as it had been, but it was getting him nowhere. It was like pushing his powers back
into the box. He could visualize it somewhat, but when it came down to brass tacks, he couldn’t quite
seem to return to a fully human state. Michel patted him on the shoulder. “You’ll get it. No worries. If
all else fails, we’ll put the sigils on and you should be able to call them or put them back at will.
Nephilim are supposed to have a higher form of celestial magic, but you may be just a bit too angelic
for it to work properly. That’s not a bad thing. You’re kicking ass out there.”
He didn’t feel like he was kicking as at anything. As strong as he was, it wasn’t polished enough
to work in his favor all the time yet. However, he knew he’d made some serious progress. It was
weird to think a few days ago he couldn’t do any of this stuff. To say he had confidence in himself
was a vast understatement. He could do whatever, be whatever he wanted.
“You think my dad will be proud?” He hadn’t meant to ask it out loud, but it had been circling in
the back of his mind since the fight with Rayl. “I mean, he wanted me to be mostly human right?”
“I think your father wanted you to be happy more than anything else,” Cross said, joining them
by the cooler. “He, unlike so many others, doesn’t have expectations of you. He simply allows you to
make your own way and supports you no matter the circumstance. His asking his brothers to help
shows that more than anything. Before we came to Urun, it was unheard of that any set choir get
involved with nephilim. Everyone turned the other way and pretended they didn’t exist even if they
didn’t believe in the hunter’s cause. You should feel blessed.”
Michel nodded. “My family has practically disowned me at this point. You’re very lucky,
Madigan.” He wanted to kick himself all over again when Michel finished speaking. He’d forgotten
about Michel’s family’s refusal to support their wedding and everything else. Bren’s family, oddly
enough, had been the most enthusiastically supportive. They were also staying with Madigan’s mother
at the rental, waiting for Friday to roll around.
“I’m sorry your family isn’t being supportive, Michel,” Madigan said, cupping his cheek. “I love
you if that helps.”
Michel turned his head to press a kiss to Madigan’s palm. “Of course it helps. I have a new
family now, and I’m more than happy with that.” He looked over at Cross. “All of you are precious to
me.” Bren chose that moment to drop into the conversation. He’d been play wrestling with Dex a
second ago while Yuri mopped off the sweat on his forehead.
“So, when we doing this throw down?”
Madigan blinked. He’d almost forgotten about the wager on the rooftop. It was downright
frustrating how much he was forgetting. There were so many things going through his head it was hard
to keep it all straight. “Give me a minute to rest, and I will be right as rain.”
Bren nodded. He was in an especially good mood today. It seemed like he was walking on
sunshine since the roof. “Okay. I’ll go tell the others.” He turned back in Dex’s direction and all but
tackled Yuri to the ground. They laughed, rolling on the grass. Madigan smiled and rolled his eyes.
Sometimes he thought he was in a house full of teenage boys the way they wrestled and carried on.
Not that he complained. He liked when his lovers were feeling playful, loved it in fact. He watched
them roll around, sipping his water as Michel and Cross talked about the pros and cons of various
battle tactics and weaponry. It was odd, but Madigan finally felt like he was pulling his own weight
with his family for the first time.
He stretched his arms across his chest, working out the muscles to rid them of the tension that
was firming after the hard workout he’d just endured. “Drink more water, Madi,” Cross ordered,
handing him another full cup. “After you finish, we can start this little test of wills you and Bren
constructed.”
Madigan nodded before reaching out and taking the water from Cross. He drained it in three
long gulps before placing it back on the table. “Let’s do this.” He’d never been particularly
competitive before, but he this was the type of competition he could really get into. Either way, he
won. His wings fluttered at his back as if they were anticipating the aftermath of their wrestling match
as well. Bren, Dex, and Yuri must’ve heard his declaration because they got to their feet and made
their way back over to Cross and Michel. Cross gave a slight nod of his head, and they fell in line
behind him.
“Meet you over there,” Cross rumbled, pointing to the center of the field. “Angelic weapons
need to be blunted, and no tossing fire around. I don’t want to set the place aflame.” His shirtless
lovers walked back onto the field, moving in unison, and Madigan couldn’t help but admire them.
He followed at a slower pace, feeling out the space. He’d been following their moves for the
past hour, and his guardians were good. His power was bigger though. So long as he didn’t let them
get too ahead of him or behind him, he would be good. He concentrated on making his angelic fire
into a spear. He didn’t want to make something pointy and accidently stab or burn one of his lovers.
The actual weapon making was pretty easy. He just pictured what he wanted and it happened.
“Does this work the same way with something like a gun?” Madigan asked as the others
followed his example and made long bō staffs.
“Projectiles are harder,” Michel explained, swinging his bō in an arc. “That’s why it’s
surprising you can toss those fireballs like it’s nothing. Impressive.”
“Huh, cool,” Madigan said. The time for talking had passed though. It was time for action. He
took a running step in their direction, and it was on.
Michel’s bō met his spear, and he felt rather than saw Bren come up behind him. He imagined
another staff in his other hand and swung it at Bren. Bren doubled over as it connected with his torso,
and he went to his knees in the grass, patting his stomach to smother the few errant sprigs of fire that
singed the hairs on his torso. Everything in him screamed at him to stop and check on him, but Michel
shoved him back, and they were off once again.
Dex’s giant shadow loomed over him, and he ducked to the side as his staff came down. He
dodged Cross next, cracking him across the shoulders with his spear as he passed. The guardian
hissed before sitting down beside Bren. Yuri struck at his legs, making him hopscotch over the stick.
However, Michel got in his way again, and the bō in his hand connected with Madigan’s arm. The
flash of heat startled him enough to make him lose focus and drop his weapon. He cursed as Dex
tapped his ass with his own weapon.
Michel winked at him. “Not bad for a newbie and for it being five on one. You won’t have to
face those kinds of odds in the field. However, well done. Did I burn you too badly? I turned down
the heat as low as it would go.”
Madigan rubbed his ass. “It’s like getting a bad sunburn. Not too bad.” He gave a sheepish grin.
“Guess I’m not as badass as I thought I was.”
“Well, in your defense, if Cross would’ve let you go full out and throw projectiles, we wouldn’t
have stood a chance,” Dex rumbled. “I’m very proud of you, Madigan.”
He beamed under their praise. He felt awesome despite the fact that they had just kicked his ass
to town and back. “I wish I could move like you guys though. It’s like you’re playing chess or
something. I just kind of throw myself around.”
“The strategy will come with time. It takes years to be able to think on your feet in a high-stress
battle situation.” Michel petted him on the back. “How about you heal up our fearless leader and
Trouble so we can get around to your reward?”
Madigan shuddered at the thought of what was to come. He deserved it, had earned it. He
walked over to Bren and Cross before kneeling down on the ground beside his lovers and wincing at
the angry red burns he saw on their bodies. “I’m so sorry,” he apologized, running his fingers over the
heated flesh.
Bren winced. “All good, bright eyes. I underestimated your speed.” With a deep breath Madigan
called the other side of himself forth. This power was definitely more welcoming than the violent
energy of his more aggressive powers. He actually liked the way healing felt, like he was bathing
whoever he touched in a soothing white light.
“Likewise,” Cross rumbled. “I’ve never seen anyone move as fast as you without popping in and
out of place. Must be a nephilim thing.”
Madigan shrugged but didn’t say anything. There wasn’t much he could do to contribute to the
conversation. He had no idea what was normal and what was abnormal for people like him.
He forced the power in their wounds, knitting together the burned flesh and forcing new skin to
regrow over the old. He frowned at the particularly stubborn bit of skin on Cross’s shoulder. The fire
had been held on too long and had eaten through a few layers. “I really am sorry, guys,” he apologized
again, pushing his power into deeper tissue. “I should’ve asked how to turn it down.”
Cross chuckled even as he had to have been in some extraordinary pain. “It’s all right, Madi. I
promise. If we hadn’t been so arrogant, this wouldn’t have happened. Don’t worry. We’ll be right as
rain when you finish.” They had faith in him. It was such a profound yet simple thing, believing in
someone else. It was a very heady power.
After a few more minutes, he thought he had healed as much as he was able. He opened his eyes
to see faint pink patches of skin where the ugly red burns had once been. He smiled. “Awesome. I
think I’m going to like this angelic powers thing. Seriously.” He turned his head so that he could
check out Bren’s healed mark as well. “Yeah. I am definitely going to like this.” He raised his gaze
and his breath hitched at Bren’s expression. Pure heat was written all over his face.
“Ready for your reward, bright eyes?” he asked, his voice a guttural purr of desire. Madigan
swallowed, his nephilim instincts screaming at him that it was about time that he got the show on the
road and gave himself some loving today. He’d gone from having sex with his men three to five times
a day to having sex once a day. Granted, he filled those days with training, but still, his instincts were
all about getting down and dirty with his boys.
“Hell yes,” Madigan growled. The newfound confidence just seemed to bleed out of him. “Since
you were the one who challenged me, it’s only fair that I get your ass first, huh?” He stretched his
wings out wider. He’d had Michel before, knew what it felt like to be balls-deep inside his lover, but
it had been a onetime thing and it was clear to everyone that he wouldn’t be taking the more
aggressive role in the near future. To have one of his other lovers was going to be a treat, especially
given the fact that he was going to get to take one of his big, bad tops. Bren, Yuri, and Cross might
bottom for their other lovers, but for the most part, they preferred to be the ones in charge of the
bedroom even when they did bend to another man’s will. Madigan wanted everything that went along
with being in charge this time. He wanted it bad. Hell, he might even convince them to let him use the
sex swing that Yuri had bought for them at home. The thought made his already hard cock press
uncomfortably up against his zipper.
“Your wish is my command,” Bren drawled, pushing his workout pants down his powerful
thighs. “Yuri, want to do the honors and fuck him while he does me? I think you deserve it
considering you brought the brat to his knees.”
Yuri shrugged. “I had help. I can’t take all the credit. However, I’ll take first round.” Madigan
shuddered at the thought. First round meant there would be a second round.
Bren winked. “It just means you get to play with our lovely Madigan’s wings first.” The
reminder of how good it felt to have someone’s hands on his wings nearly made him shoot into the
tight confines of his pants. When Cross had stroked him on the roof, it had felt like there was an
intimate connection between his cock and the wings that had sprung from his back on his free fall
from the top of the tower.
He popped his button and shoved his pants down to his feet. He eyed Bren’s backside with new
interest. The tight bubble of flesh would be the perfect home for his cock. He squirmed.
“Lube?” he asked as Bren got down on all fours and threw a “come and get it” look at him.
“I’ll grab it,” Dex rumbled, turning from their little circle and jogging back over to their table.
Bren licked his lips, his eyes sliding shut as contentment overtook his features.
“You okay?” Madigan asked, massaging down his back and ass, kneading the tension out of the
muscles. “You really don’t have to do this.” The image of the two of them fucking just wouldn’t leave
his head. He could easily envision Bren’s tight body wrapped around him as Madigan thrust over and
over inside of him.
“Madigan, I’m so turned on right now, my cock is dripping. If you don’t just fuck me, I’m going
to make a fool out of myself and beg for it.” Bren’s eyes opened slowly and pinned him with a look of
pure want. “Don’t make me beg for it, Madi, because I will.”
Madigan’s dick jerked. “Fuck me. You going to beg for me, Bren?” He kind of wanted to hear
that. He wanted to hear Bren beg to take his cock inside him.
“Will it turn you on, Madigan?” Bren asked, pure mischief written over his face. “Payback for
all those times we’ve made you beg for our cocks?”
Madigan shrugged, playing along. “Fair is fair, Bren.”
“All right,” Bren said, his voice dropping to a lower, softer cadence. “Please, Madigan, please
fuck me with your cock. I want you to fuck me full of your cum.”
“Jesus!” Madigan yelped, his balls tightening so hard that he was afraid he was going to come.
“Uh, yeah, that won’t work for me.” He looked up as Dex approached with lube in hand. “Hey,
love?”
“What’s up, beautiful boy?”
“Will you gag Bren with your dick for me?” Madigan asked, giving him his best puppy dog
expression. “He has a dirty mouth, and I don’t want this to be over too quickly.”
Dex laughed. “Of course.” He grabbed Cross’s hand and pulled him toward Bren’s head as he
passed the lube to Madigan.
He dribbled some lube in the valley of Bren’s ass at the same time Dex shoved his thick piece of
meat into Bren’s throat. Lucifer’s angel shuddered and tilted his hips back for more as Dex fucked his
face, Dex’s eyes never leaving what Madigan was doing to Bren. Dex groaned as Cross sank his
fingers into his ass at the same time.
“Hurry with the lube, baby. I want to ride Dex hard,” Cross said, his hand sneaking around to
play with Dex’s hardened nipples. He twisted the peaks, and Dex howled.
Madigan swallowed, nodded, unable to say anything as his lovers gave him the best visual of his
life. He passed the slick back to Yuri, who knelt patiently behind him. He turned his head, looking for
Michel, and found that Yuri had already taken care of that. Yuri had his head turned slightly to the
side so that he could blow Michel as he fucked Madigan. Whenever they all had sex together, it was
always a complicated mess, but it was always so damn good. Yuri stopped his blow job to pour out
some slick of his own before tossing it over to Dex, who then passed it to Cross.
Madigan rubbed Bren’s opening with the tips of his fingers, massaging it as Bren pushed back
for more. He licked his lips in anticipation, eager to sink to the hilt inside. However, he cautioned
himself to have patience. His lovers always showed the utmost patience with him. It was only fair that
he reciprocated the gesture.
He pushed one digit inside, spreading the slick deeper. Bren groaned, and Dex immediately
echoed the sound. They were all very hot together. That was for damn sure. He pumped his finger in
and out, testing Bren’s entrance. The muscle relaxed easily under his steady pressure, and it wasn’t
long before he slipped another finger inside as well. His cock was dripping pre-cum in a regular
stream as he cautioned himself to slow down, to take it easy. However, when Yuri pushed his own
cock in Madigan’s ass without preamble, Madigan’s control snapped. He pulled his fingers free as
Yuri’s thick dick scored his pleasure spot, ratcheting the desire in ever-higher circles.
“More,” he snarled, grabbing Bren’s hips and bringing them back to meet his prick as he drove
it hard into his lover’s body. He groaned. “Fuck yes. Bren!” He set a brutal pace, and he knew he was
probably going too fast, but Bren met him thrust for thrust, moaning around Dex’s cock as Madigan
fucked him mercilessly. Yuri adjusted his angle so that he rubbed against Madigan’s prostate with
every feral jab of his hips.
Madigan was pretty sure he was going absolutely crazy, but then Michel did something
unexpected. He pulled his cock from Yuri’s mouth and walked closer to Madigan’s head, reaching out
and rubbing his wings like he was massaging the most intimate part of Madigan’s body. Madigan
cried out, unable to hold back his babbling praises as Michel stroked his hands over the arches of his
wings and the place where they met his back.
“Your ass is mine next,” Michel promised, rubbing faster.
“Yours. All of yours. God, you guys feel so good,” Madigan babbled, loving them and hating
them for the sharpness in sensation. Michel found a particularly tender spot, and Madigan’s hips
snapped forward, losing their rhythm as he was thrown headlong into orgasm. He slammed into Bren,
the pulses inside him no doubt milking Yuri as well. He shot his load deep inside Bren, growling as
he marked his lover’s insides with the physical proof of his claim.
Yuri set his teeth to the place that his neck met his shoulder and bit down. Madigan saw stars as
another orgasm was torn from him. Multiple orgasms were par for the course since he had such
magnificent lovers, but they usually weren’t so close together. Almost from the second he finished
coming, Yuri pulled out of his body and Michel took his place, slamming into him with a desperate
lunge. Madigan couldn’t think anymore. He stared up into Dex’s eyes as Michel fucked him to
oblivion.
Dex must’ve enjoyed the sight because he groaned and fucked Bren’s face in earnest, driving
himself into Bren’s willing mouth as Madigan softened inside Bren’s ass. Even half-hard, the
sensations felt incredible.
Michel smacked his ass, getting his attention once more. “You’re so damn beautiful, nephilim,”
Michel complimented, fucking him forward. “I love burying myself in you.” Madigan loved it, too,
but he couldn’t voice it. He was too overwhelmed by them. His power exploded, his entire body
infused with a glow he’d only ever seen archangels and seraphim sport.
“Do you have any idea what you do to us, beautiful boy?” Dex rumbled, his eyes eating him
alive. He groaned suddenly, stiffening. Bren swallowed convulsively as he came, even as Dex’s
spunk overflowed and dripped down his chin. Michel shouted as he came, forcing Madigan headlong
into yet another orgasm as his insides were bathed in the sticky proof of his pleasure.
Cross was the last man standing, and by the snarling sounds of pleasure he was making, he
definitely was going to come. Madigan listened to his lovers’ sounds of desire and floated in a world
of cotton. He was home here, with them. It didn’t matter where home was physically. So long as they
were together, heaven, earth, and hell could disappear for all he cared. Finally, Cross gave a low
groan of completion, and they all collapsed onto the welcoming embrace of the grass.
Madigan stretched his arms and wings over his head as the others cuddled in close. Yuri gave
him a kiss on the cheek in thanks, and Michel did the same. He really didn’t deserve his lovers one
bit. “When we get home, I am baking cookies and a dinner that is going to make you guys absolutely
lethargic,” he promised. The low groans of approval met his statement. If he knew anything, he knew
his men. They loved to eat, and since Madigan loved to cook, he supposed that that was just fine.
“Can we have Italian?” Yuri wondered. “I am in the mood for one of your homemade pizzas.”
“We’ll have to stop at the store on the way back,” Madigan said, already plotting out which
ingredients he would need to pick up.
“And some kind of lasagna,” Bren added. “I have a hankering for your beef and cheese lasagna.”
“Peanut butter cookies,” Dex threw in.
Madigan laughed. They were always hungry after sex. “Any other requests?”
“Hmmm, I want green bean casserole,” Michel said after a moment of silence.
Cross’s stomach growled. “Sweet potato casserole, too.”
They were going to have an insane amount of food by the time he was done cooking but that was
all right. They had a lot of reasons to celebrate, and if he knew anything about his men, it was that
there would be no leftovers. They ate like kings and had no reason to leave anything behind.
“Okay. I’m going to have to make a list.” Madigan moved to his side as a cramp started to form
in his wings. Damn. He wished he could just tuck them away like they were supposed to go. A pop
sounded, and then he dropped an inch or two. He gave a yelp as he did so.
“Oh look, you figured out how to put them away,” Yuri declared. “Fascinating.”
Madigan sat up, rubbing the shoulder that he’d landed on. “Yeah. I think those things have a
mind of their own.” He was convinced of it in fact. There was no way that they could be so
awesomely inconvenient and yet wonderful at the same time otherwise.
He felt rather than saw Daisis arrive. “Looks like practice is over,” Cross said, forcing himself
into a sitting position. “I guess we should collect our things.” The thought of putting his pants back on
over his sticky ass and cock did not sit well.
“Is there a spring or something around here?” Bren asked, clearly reading his mind. “I do not
want to walk around with dried cum all over me.”
Cross shrugged. “We can try to find one. I know, we can still make it part of training. We’ll treat
it as a scouting exercise.”
Everyone groaned, Madigan included.
“Let’s just play ‘go find the water’ and call it a day,” he suggested. “We’re all beat, Cross.” The
guardian commander was a real slave driver sometimes. “Plus, we’re supposed to be calling it an
early day remember?” Yeah, he was pleading his case, but he didn’t care if he sounded whiny
anymore. He had been worked over and fucked stupid. He had zero brain cells to devote to much of
anything at the moment.
Cross sighed like the whole thing was terribly inconvenient to him. “Fine. Be that way. Brats,
every last one of you.” Madigan grinned. Sometimes it was awesome being the nephilim among his
guardians. He concentrated on the way his wings felt, and they unfurled from his back like they’d
never been missing.
“Someone is going to have to explain to me exactly how this works,” Yuri muttered, reaching
out to finger his flight feathers. “Honestly, I understand magically speaking how the sigils work, but
nephilim are very unique. Where do they go?”
Madigan pulled his wing out of Yuri’s grip. “I imagine the same place yours go whenever you
put them away,” he said dryly. He pushed himself to his feet before helping Yuri do the same. Michel
took his other hand and he pulled him up as well. “All right. Let’s do this flying thing.”
Chapter Seven
Michel straightened Madigan’s tie and smoothed a hand down his suit as he tried to calm down.
The new suit Scepta had brought to their townhouse this morning was tailored to Madigan’s frame,
and the slits in the back allowed his wings to fit through both the shirt and jacket. The sharp black suit
with red accents was a perfect complement to his dark-red hair and pale skin. “Do I look okay?”
Michel leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Madigan’s lips. “You look amazing.” He really
did. He looked like he had aged five years overnight, but it didn’t look bad at all. He looked mature,
confident, and comfortable in his skin for the first time.
“We’re three minutes until broadcast,” Dex said, glancing at his watch as he adjusted his own
lapels.
“Man, we look killer,” Bren bragged, giving himself a once-over in the mirror. Michel rolled
his eyes at his lover. He had no concept of humility. Of course, he loved him that way.
It had been decided after yesterday’s sequence of events that they would be taking their last day
off. Madigan was as prepared as he could be, and he looked to be in good shape for the upcoming
battle. He didn’t need to be worked to death beforehand either. Today was a day for family and for
friends. After the press conference, they were all congregating at Marius’s place for one last day with
everyone.
“So did you get a hold of Axis to confirm the time when we’re supposed to be there?” Madigan
asked, directing his question at a very silent Cross.
Cross nodded, turning from the mirror. “I confirmed that we’re supposed to be at his place at
four. Bren’s family is confirmed to attend, and so is your mother. Christian isn’t coming, but Becka
and Daniella are.”
Madigan nodded like it was what he was expecting. “Thank you for keeping up with it.” They
weren’t even letting Madigan cook today. They were having the whole thing catered by his favorite
restaurant.
“Not a problem. I just made phone calls.” Cross played down his work as per usual. That was
just what the commander did. He took care of them.
Madigan leaned over and gave Cross a kiss before turning back to Michel. “Michel, will you
stand beside me at the conference? I know what I’m supposed to say, but I just want one of you to
stand by me.”
Michel blinked. He hadn’t expected Madigan would want him by his side at a time like this. He
understood choosing Cross or Yuri, they were both stoic in these situations, or even Bren because the
man was downright intimidating with his “fuck off” attitude. Dex was the biggest of the bunch and
would definitely give the right amount of sheer mass to keep an army in line. But other than being
Archangel Michael’s, there was nothing special about him.
“Why?” He asked the question before he thought better of it. It wasn’t like him to look a gift
horse in the mouth, but he was curious.
Madigan smiled softly. “Because you comfort me the most.”
Michel’s heart expanded until he felt like it was bursting. He didn’t know what to say. Thank
you seemed pitifully inadequate to express what he was feeling. “I love you.” It was all he had. His
nephilim reached out and touched his cheek with the tips of his fingers.
“Love you, too.”
“We’re on,” Dex interrupted as Scepta stuck his head through the door. The nervousness
practically vibrated off Madigan’s skin.
“Just let your angel out and speak from the heart,” Michel reminded, keeping his voice calm as
he tucked his hand on his lover’s elbow and led him gently toward the elevator. The balcony on the
third floor was going to be his platform. The city streets had been blocked off, and a PA system had
been set up so that everyone in Urun within the designated area would be able to hear Madigan’s
words. Beyond that, he was speaking to all the assembled armies of the archangels. He needed to be
both strong and relatable. Michel had faith in Madigan even if Madigan didn’t. He was both of those
things.
Madigan let his breath out in a whoosh. “I got this.”
“You do.” Michel gave him a squeeze.
They walked through the double doors onto the balcony, and a cheer sounded that was so
deafening that Michel jumped. He felt his lovers tense behind him as they filed out on the balcony.
Some of the media stood to the right of the podium, recording the events as they unfolded.
Madigan let his power loose, and a soft glow infused his entire body. Michel was bursting with
pride as he stepped up to the microphone. A quiet went over the crowd, and Madigan nervously
palmed his cell phone in his jacket pocket, a nervous tic he’d taken up in the past few hours.
“Most of you didn’t know I existed a few days ago,” he began. “But that’s okay. I didn’t know
this entire world existed a few months ago. In the time since I learned about nephilim, angels, and all
the rest of the people who make this place the most unique in the world, I have found love.” He
glanced over at Michel, and Michel nodded encouragingly. “I have found friendship, and I have found
a deep and profound respect for the people who are trying to carve out a life of peace in a world that
wants nothing more than to rip apart the families we’ve forged.”
Raphael appeared beside Michel, and he nodded his head in greeting. The archangel actually
winked at him and nodded his head toward the crowd. He wasn’t kidding about how impressive this
was. As far as the eye could see, warriors stood, watching, listening, and among them, the citizens of
Urun stood as well.
“We tolerated the tyranny of the hunters because we thought we had no choice. Sanctuary was
the only option, and when the hunters decided to take that as well, we thought all hope was lost.”
Madigan swallowed and raised his chin, the defiant look one that Michel was very familiar with.
“I’m not a warrior by trade or occupation. I’m a baker. I love making things that people will enjoy. I
don’t want to cause trouble, and all I really ask for is to have a home for me and mine. The day
Azrael declared war, he took my peace of mind and the peace of mind of every resident in Urun. I’m
tired of being bullied. I’m tired of being unable to work at my shop and live my life because hunters
are afraid of what they do not understand. And do not doubt they are afraid. They want to destroy us
because they fear what we will do when we are free.”
He waved his hand at the assembled crowd. “They’re afraid of what it means to have angels
join our ranks.” A mad cheer went up from the angelic factions. “They’re afraid of what it means that
demons support us.” Another booming cheer sounded. “They’re afraid of the nephilims here who have
said that they will tolerate no more from them!” A nearly deafening cheer echoed that time. When it
finally quieted, Madigan continued. “Tomorrow we will fight.” He pointed toward the outside of
town where the hunters gathered. “Tomorrow they will feel the strength of our power, the heat of our
blades, and the passion of our souls. Tomorrow they will be the ones cast out. Tomorrow we become
equals in this world once and for all.”
Michel couldn’t help it. He threw back his head and gave a howl of his own, as the cacophony
of sound rose to a resounding crescendo as seemingly every resident in Urun shouted their support to
the heavens. If the Creator was unsure of their resolve, he sure as hell could hear it now.
Madigan gave one final wave before stepping away from the podium. Camera bulbs flashed, and
Michel stood as protectively as he could until their other lovers surrounded them. Raphael walked
behind them, keeping pace.
They stepped back into the warm interior of the building, and Madigan glanced over his
shoulder at all of them. “Was that okay?”
“You were fucking amazing, bright eyes,” Bren promised, grinning like a fool.
“Quite inspiring,” Dex agreed, sharing in the smile.
“Dad?” Madigan asked, clearly seeking the archangel’s opinion.
The archangel pushed through them and ruffled Madigan’s hair. “ I’ve never been prouder to
call you my son.” Every muscle in Madigan’s body relaxed. It was good that he was getting closer
with his father. It seemed like they were developing quite the relationship. The thought warmed
Michel. Their family was getting bigger all the time.
“How in the world are we going to get through that crowd?” Dex asked as they turned the corner
to the elevator.
Madigan grinned. “We’re flying out. It’s the only thing that makes sense. Most of the others will
be flying out as well. The sky is plenty big enough for us.”
Dex nodded. “I keep forgetting you can fly, beautiful.” He reached out and caressed one of
Madigan’s wings, causing their lover to shudder.
“How can you?” Madigan asked. “These things are heavy, and the color kind of screams look at
me.”
Michel actually agreed with Dex. He was so used to protecting Madigan, to carrying him when
they flew and shoving him behind them in battle that it was going to take some getting used to
Madigan officially leading them into some kind of angelic revolution. Such things might have been
reasonably commonplace in the human world, but in their world, change was hard won. Immortals
never saw the necessity for it. This was the biggest thing that had happened in their history since the
Fall.
Madigan reached back, grabbing Michel’s hand and pulling him even with him. “Thanks for
standing beside me.”
“Anytime, Madi,” Michel promised, ridiculously pleased that Madigan was looking at him with
such adoration. He felt like a newling anytime one of his lovers touched him or looked at him like he
was some kind of hero.
They arrived at the elevators and took one to the tenth floor before disembarking and climbing
the stairs that led to the rooftop. Scepta was waiting for them there.
The red-haired healer nodded his head in greeting. “I just wanted you to know that everyone is
drawing toward the interior of the city. The warriors are taking the farthest spaces out, and all the
civilians will be inward. My father wanted me to ask if it was all right that you all stayed at the tower
as guests. We’re not sure when the siege is going to start, but he says the hunters’ camp looks
prepared to start any time.”
Madigan nodded, beating Cross to the punch. “We’ll return by sundown with guests in tow.
We’re going to spend the day with our families.”
“An understandable sentiment,” Scepta said. His eyes went to Raphael, and not for the first time
Michel was wondering about the history between the two of them. “I wish you all well.”
“Are you fighting tomorrow, Scepta ?” Raphael asked, his face a mask of indifference. Michel
would hate to play poker with him.
“I am going to be on the front, though I won’t be fighting. I’m a healer. I will heal,” Scepta said,
shifting from foot to foot. The nervous gesture wasn’t lost on him. “There is nothing in my skill set
that would be useful in battle. However, my father will be. He’s decided the cause is worthy enough
for his participation. My dads aren’t allowed to though. Sorry. They’ll be manning the tower.”
Raphael nodded like it was just as he had imagined it would be. “I will sit with them tomorrow.
I imagine they won’t be too thrilled to sit at home.”
Madigan’s head snapped up. “You’re not fighting?”
Raphael sighed. “I can’t. I still have to obey the laws. I can, by splitting hairs, provide the
troops and lend my support in other ways, but fighting directly is forbidden. Plus, that was the
only way I could get the other archangels to agree with the numbers we sent. They want the battle
to be decided by the strength of nephilim resolve, not mine.”
It was on the tip of Michel’s tongue to call them all cowards and scream at the lot, his archangel
included, for failing to join the cause. However, Madigan seemed to accept it. He nodded his head.
“Fine. We need to believe we can do it on our own anyway.” There was something profound about
standing on one’s own feet, but Michel still would’ve preferred to have the archangels there, just in
case.
Whatever Raphael was going to say next was interrupted by the angels rising into the air from
the ground below. Apparently they were all going off to their posts or whatever it was they were
going to do on their last day of freedom. It was a magnificent sight. The many colors of wings as they
rose became a rainbow of hope in Michel’s way of thinking.
“Guess that’s our cue to leave, huh?” Madigan asked, watching the others with a slightly awed
look on his face.
Michel nodded. “I suppose so. They’ll provide good cover.”
“Good cover or not, don’t break formation. Madigan, you see anyone suspicious, you toss a
damn fireball on their heads, got it?” Cross barked. It was the first time he’d included Madigan in his
orders. Michel’s lips twitched as Madigan nodded like it was the most normal thing in the world.
“Good. Let’s fall out, gentlemen.”
Bren snorted. “Stop being a drill sergeant already. Jeez. You think showing off for your
archangel is winning you points with us? What is that?”
Cross’s cheeks actually pinked a little. “I am not showing off.”
“Are too.”
“Am not.”
Michel cracked up, pumping his wings up and down so that he slowly rose into the air. Bren
was such trouble.
* * * *
They dropped down to the townhouse to grab a change of clothes for the party while his father
went on to the house they were throwing the get-together at. Madigan didn’t feel like the situation was
real quite yet. He’d been put through angel boot camp this week, but the idea of a serious battle
seemed far too surreal to be happening anytime soon. Dex unlocked the front door, and they all piled
into the house.
It struck him as he took off his shoes in the foyer that this might be the last time he walked into
this house. The thought left an eerie feeling as he looked over the features he’d grown to love. This
had been his first real home with his lovers. If Azrael and his band of assholes destroyed it, he would
have nothing but memories to hold onto.
He took the duffel bag that Cross handed him from the closet and went into the living room. The
pictures they’d taken a few weeks ago were on the mantel. He grabbed them and put them in his bag
before snagging the other unframed pictures from the desk. He also took Yuri’s new laptop. His lover
would absolutely go nutty without this thing.
“What are you doing, Madigan?” Bren asked from the doorway. “We’re supposed to be
grabbing clothes.”
Madigan swallowed before turning around to meet his lover’s stare. “I’m getting a few
important things before we leave. We might not be back anytime soon. I want to take them to the
tower. It seems like the safest place.”
Bren considered him for a very long time before he nodded. “Grab what you feel like we need,
bright eyes. But don’t overburden yourself.” He touched the cartoon drawing they’d had done on a
whim by an artist near the bakery. “They’re just things.” With that he turned and headed toward the
stairs.
Madigan walked over to the cartoon drawing and added it to his bag of stuff. It was hard to think
of things to grab that were sentimental enough to matter. He knew that if he were very brave, he
wouldn’t take anything, but the memories of the objects he took and the joy they gave his lovers was
enough to bear the extra weight. He grabbed Cross’s favorite movie, Shaun of the Dead, from their
DVD collection and Dex’s Kindle from the bookshelf. Satisfied that he’d grabbed everything his
lovers would want from this room, he headed toward the stairs.
His lovers were nearly ready to head out when he made his way to their bedroom on the third
floor. He snatched Michel’s favorite pillow off the bed, the one he couldn’t sleep without, and finally
turned toward the closet. He didn’t much care what he wore, but he grabbed two T-shirts from the
bunch that actually had some kind of meaning to him. The first was the one he’d had made for his
mom’s baking shop. It had been his first job and one he had loved the most until he’d opened his own
bakery in Urun. The other was a worn black T-shirt from his high school. He tossed the black one into
his already overstuffed duffel and got himself out a few pairs of blue jeans.
With a thought, he willed his wings away and began to strip. His lovers did the same, laying out
the suits that they’d worn to their wedding and to the war speech carelessly on the bed. Madigan had
no regrets, no matter the outcome. He would rather die tomorrow than wonder, worry, and eventually
realize that his lovers would fall one by one to the hunters no matter where they ran. He hadn’t been
exaggerating when he’d said he was tired of being afraid.
“You okay?” Cross asked, sidling up beside him as he pulled his T-shirt over his head. The
white tee didn’t really fit him and was a little baggy, but he didn’t care. It wasn’t like he was going
out to impress anyone. The party was the equivalent of a backyard barbeque.
“I’m fine. Maybe. I don’t know.” He shrugged. “I’m feeling a lot right now. It’s hard to explain.
It’s kind of like saying good-bye to our home. You know?”
Cross nodded. “Yeah. I know what you mean.” He rubbed his hand on Madigan’s back in a slow
circle. “I love you. We’ll be back before you know it.”
Madigan sighed, leaning into the touch. “I love you, too.” He loved all of them more than he
could express, thus why he was so damn scared of losing them. However, under all the dread and
fear, there was a spark of hope. They were going to be all right. “I’m ready to head out whenever you
are.”
“We’re ready to go as well,” Michel said. “Carry my bag and I’ll get yours. Your muscles aren’t
used to long flights yet, and I don’t want to exhaust you.”
He shrugged. “It’s only a few miles.”
“It’s longer than you think when carrying something. Remember how hard it was to lift me?”
Bren asked. Madigan nodded. “It’s the same deal. You haven’t been conditioned to lift anything but
yourself, but you’ll get there.”
Madigan traded bags with Michel before following his lead out the door. “Vee formation,”
Cross barked. It was a familiar order at this point. He took comfort from that familiarity. Everything
was just as it was supposed to be.
Chapter Eight
“Can you please stop doing that to me every time we see one another?” Bren screamed as he
was completely covered in his siblings from where they tackled him to the ground the second they’d
stepped foot in Marius’s foyer.
Brady, his youngest brother, grinned completely unapologetically. “No way, Brenny. We like to
dog pile too much.”
Bren huffed and rolled to disentangle himself from his siblings. Doyle’s elbow connected with
his lower abdomen, knocking the wind out of him. Krissy shoved Cassus, and Lucifel yelped as
someone stepped on him trying to get vertical. Why his family was a bunch of spazzes, he didn’t
know, but he knew that it was terribly embarrassing trying to do anything other than stand there.
“Where is my hug, hellions?” Madigan asked, looking down on them with a big grin on his face.
His siblings all but threw themselves on him next, and his other lovers growled as Madigan was
knocked backward into the door.
Michel offered him a hand up, and Bren gratefully took it. “They are certainly spirited,” his
lover said, leaning their foreheads together as he gained his feet.
“Definitely.” He watched them as they chatted excitedly over Madigan’s new wings, and he had
to reach out and smack Lucifel’s hand as he raised it to touch Madigan’s wings. “Mine.”
Lucifel shot him an apologetic look before turning from the group hug. “I smell ribs.”
“Ooh,” Krissy squealed. “Caterers are here.”
“Guys, guys, seriously don’t tackle the delivery guys!” Bren shouted. He sighed. It was
hopeless. They were going to do what they were going to do regardless of his shouted orders. None
of Lucifer’s choir listened extremely well, and his siblings listened less than most. If they did listen,
they wouldn’t be here at all. They would be anywhere else in the world but here in Urun. It wasn’t
that they weren’t good fighters. His little goth-loving, smart-mouthed, obnoxious siblings were
hellishly good in a fight. However, he didn’t want to risk them any more than he wanted to risk his
own lovers.
“They’re a handful,” Erik commented, coming around the corner from the living room. The
nephilim was certainly filling out. He had put on some muscle since the last time Bren had seen him.
“Keer was about to murder them earlier when we were making margaritas, but I think they’re cute.”
He put his hand on the doorframe.
The huge sprawling house in the suburbs was their pride and joy, and the rest of them had stayed
there briefly while they’d house searched. There was always another corridor to come around, which
was why they had decided on a townhouse from a security perspective. However, Erik’s home still
managed to feel homey despite the sprawling expanse.
“Sorry if they were too much trouble,” Bren said, giving him a sheepish grin.
Erik laughed. “Are you kidding? They’re entertaining as all get-out. Plus, when they got too out
of line, Madigan’s mom yelled at them and they toed the line. Apparently they respond to the mom
voice really well.”
Bren was floored. They didn’t listen to anyone but Lucifer. “Well, uh, awesome.”
He led them into the living room where the rest of the party was assembled. Madigan’s mom sat
on one of the recliners, watching the television as the anchor recapped the speech Madigan had given
today and showed screenshots of the crowd that had gathered. Axis, the leader of the Elites, Jade, his
second, and Keer were playing Sorry! on the coffee table, margaritas in hand as they popped the little
dice ball. Brax aka I.T. was playing on his Nintendo DS, oblivious to the rest of the room as per
usual. Becka and Daniella were sprawled out on the couch, watching the TV along with Mrs. Parker.
“Where are the others?” Bren asked whoever was going to answer him.
Keer looked up, his violet gaze uninterested. “Probably in the kitchen helping the caterers set up.
I hope they hurry. I’m starving.”
“Me, too,” Becka complained.
“Settle down, people,” Axis commanded. “It’ll be ready in just a second.” He pointed in the
general direction of the kitchen. “Margaritas are on the counter if anyone wants one.”
The domestic scene was perfect. Bren shook his head. This was just another family day, and
they were any other family.
“It’s nice, huh?” Michel murmured, bumping their shoulders.
A slight man with vibrant blond hair and big doe eyes popped his head into the room. Levi
looked the same as he always had. “Okay, everyone, supper is all set up. Let’s move. Marius opened
up a few bottles of champagne.” He really was a sweet kid and had a fragility about him that made
any red-blooded male in the vicinity want to take care of him. Bren was intensely grateful that
Madigan was strong. He wasn’t going to miss the constant worry of whether or not someone was
going to catch Madigan alone. He could kick some ass now. He was proud of his lover’s progress.
Madigan’s mom got up from the chair and wrapped her arms around Madigan’s neck as they
moved en masse toward the kitchen. They whispered together as Bren brushed past them. “Anyone
seen Raphael?” Bren asked as they assembled in the kitchen. The archangel was nowhere in sight.
Madigan trailed in. “He was supposed to meet us here.”
“He’s an archangel,” Brady piped up. “He’s probably busy doing archangel type things.” That
was probably true, but a spear of annoyance went through Bren nonetheless. He had promised
Madigan he would be here. If he disappointed him, Bren was not beyond biting the archangel’s head
off.
As if summoned by the thought, Raphael appeared by the side door, looking disheveled and
more than a little worn. Becka and Daniella shuddered, and Raphael gave a little sigh before stuffing
his energy away. “Sorry, forgot there were humans present .” He looked toward Marius, who was
holding a bottle of champagne. “I’m going to need something stronger than that. Liquor?”
“Can archangels get drunk?” Levi asked, his eyes like saucers as he looked at Raphael.
Raphael shrugged. “It’s theoretically possible. Mostly, I just need something with a bite.”
“Is everything all right, Dad?” Madigan asked, his face a mask of concern.
“It’s fine. There was just some trouble at the tower I had to deal with. Scepta had a bit of a
meltdown with Daisis, and I had to step in between. The archseraphim rides him too hard
sometimes. Just normal family squabbles. I shouldn’t have interfered ,” Raphael explained, taking
the bottle of tequila Marius passed his way. “I’m very happy to be here now. Let’s have a toast.”
“That’s a good idea,” Bren agreed. They passed around glasses of champagne, and Bren was the
first to raise his glass. “To family.”
“To family,” everyone echoed, mimicking his movement. After all, it was the most important
thing.
* * * *
Early morning broke at the tower, lighting up the room they’d been given in a gorgeous golden
glow. None of them had slept particularly well if the constant shifting and occasional conversations
had been any indication. Madigan in particular had been plagued with nightmares of the car crash
they’d been in weeks ago and the day he’d come home to a house full of hunters intent on killing him.
He sighed as he came awake, unable to sleep another second.
He was ready for today, ready to be done with the hunters and all their mess. He reached out and
felt for Cross. He had bunked down with him the night before. He’d regretted that they hadn’t been
able to sleep together in one bed, but there just hadn’t been room. He already missed his home.
Cross rolled into him, wrapping his arms around his waist as he did. “Hmm, good morning,” he
rumbled, pressing a kiss to Madigan’s lips.
“Morning yourself.” He nibbled Cross’s full lower lip. “How’d you sleep?”
“Not very well. Too tense. Did you hear the warning bell at four?”
Madigan nodded. “Yeah. First bloodshed.” He snuggled closer, unwilling to acknowledge that it
had started. “I thought Scepta would come in to get us.”
Cross shook his head. “Too far out yet. It was probably just the initial push. We’ll be up in
plenty of time to catch the greatest round of action. But first…” He leaned forward and captured
Madigan’s lips. When he pulled back, Madigan was panting. “I had to get my good-morning kiss.”
“Hmm, share the nephilim,” Dex rumbled from his place on the floor. He reached up, grabbed
Madigan’s ankles and pulled him onto the floor. Madigan laughed as he was rolled beneath Dex’s
bulk. When his lovers touched him like this, he could almost forget that they were at war. He was
passed to the right, and Yuri took his turn playing tonsil hockey with Madigan. Then Bren and Michel
held him between them to fondle and kiss him senseless.
A knock on the door interrupted things before it got any farther, and Runa stuck his head in the
door. “You up? I’ve got toast and orange juice out here. Then we’re heading to the front. You good
for that?”
Cross raised his head. “Yep. We’ll be there in a minute.”
They dressed slowly. Madigan pulled on the black pants that fit perfectly and the matching long-
sleeved shirt that was slit in the back to accommodate his wings. His father had dropped off identical
outfits for all of them. They were the uniforms of the warriors and made specifically to be able to take
damage from angel fire so that it didn’t burn. It was a really nifty material. Yuri claimed that
Archangel Uriel had been the original inventor, and Madigan couldn’t say that he was especially
surprised.
With a thought his wings sprung from his back. He stretched them out, feeling the strength in the
muscles and the power just beneath his skin. A week ago it hadn’t been like this. A week ago he
hadn’t been as confident in his ability to defend himself.
He ducked into the bathroom as Michel came out and went to the sink to grab his toothbrush. As
he cleaned his pearly whites, he marveled at the differences in the mirror. He didn’t even recognize
the man in the mirror. Who was this guy with an archangel’s glow and an air of confidence around
him? He spat in the sink and watched the foamed toothpaste swirl down the drain.
After brushing out his hair, he declared himself ready to greet the day. He squeezed past Bren
and Cross, who were arguing over who needed to use the restroom more. He rolled his eyes and
made his way across the room to pull open the door. His mother sat at the table that had been brought
in, a small plate in front of her. There were place settings enough for all of them.
“Mom,” he said, walking toward the table.
She looked up, and her brown eyes were as warm as they always were. “Oh, baby, you look just
like your father.”
Madigan’s chest swelled with pride. “Thanks, Mom.” He sat beside her. “Big day.”
“It’s a good day. I had a dream last night that you and the others brought grandbabies over to my
house for a weekend,” she said, taking a bite out of her butter and jelly toast. “I think that it’s a sign.”
“I hope it is,” he said, grabbing a piece of toast from the pile. “If things don’t work out, I want
you to go home. Take our SUV out of the city. Okay?”
“Sweetheart, if you think I’ll tuck tail and run if you die, you don’t know your mother very
well.” She sipped her orange juice. “You get your stubborn streak honestly. If someone hurts you,
baby, you won’t have to worry about me going anywhere because I will find the bastard and make
sure he doesn’t hurt any other babies ever again.”
Madigan blinked. His mother was not a violent woman. She was the mom that made cookies,
baked cakes, and had the house everyone wanted to hang out in. “I love you, Mom.”
“Love you, too, sweet boy.”
A bell went off somewhere in the building, and his lovers boiled out of the room. “Come on,
Madigan,” Cross called. “No time for a sit-down breakfast. Grab some toast, and let’s fly.”
Madigan’s heart thundered with fear and exhilaration. He pressed a kiss to her cheek and
hopped off his seat. He fell into line between Michel and Yuri as they climbed up the stairs and
stepped into the early morning light. He spread his wings as the others dove off the roof.
The sun had painted the sky in vibrant shades of red and orange. It was like the Creator had
wanted them to have a brilliant sunrise, a beautiful beginning today. Madigan took it as a sign. Today
was the beginning of a new era. For better or for worse, he would be by his lovers’ sides during it
all. He stepped off the roof and dropped for a few terrifying feet before rising up to join his husbands.
He was exactly where he belonged, at last.
“Love you!” he shouted over the sound of wind whipping by him. He pumped his wings harder,
rising to the center of the pack. Their echoed “I love yous” took up residence in his heart, carrying
him to his destiny without fear or hesitation.
End of Book 5: Angelic Alliances
To be continued in
Book 6: Angelic Ending
WWW.JANADOWNS.COM
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Jana Downs lives in the beautiful mountains of western North Carolina with three cats, one dog,
several dozen fish, and a very understanding partner-in-crime who hates to read but makes exceptions
for her stories.
You can usually find her either watching bad reality TV, buying way too many books on
Amazon, or dreaming up another man or two to occupy her time because life is good but several
drop-dead gorgeous nonexistent men is just better.
For all titles by Jana Downs, please visit
www.bookstrand.com/jana-downs
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
Document Outline
- Title Page
- Copyright Page
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- About the Author
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