Pledge of Ashes Read online

  “Bye, Nina.”

  Nina had to raise her voice to be heard. “Why do you want to be alone?”

  Syd turned to go, even as the question echoed through her head. “I’ll see you at the dealership on Monday.”

  The bar was more crowded since her arrival. Pushing her way out seemed to be the opposite goal of every other patron. Mercifully, the door appeared, and Syd couldn’t exit quickly enough.

  Taking a deep breath of the freezing air, she scanned Woodward Avenue for an idle cab. Hopes weren’t high… She’d probably have to call for one this early in the night—

  “Syd?”

  Grimacing, she turned, hoping she was wrong. No such luck. Bryce strode up to her, hands shoved into his jeans, shoes polished to a sheen, blond hair bright against the dark of the night. Two of his closest friends, Zach and Adam, flanked him.

  “You ain’t leaving already, are you?” he asked.

  Syd glanced back. “Hey, Bryce.”

  “You gotta let me buy you a drink.” Bryce smiled. Anticipation in his eyes. “Yeah, come on, a drink to good times, hopefully some more good times.”

  She was so done with one-nighters.

  “I’m calling a cab, Bryce. I’m heading home.”

  “Come on, Syd, stay. Nina said you guys were hanging out here tonight.”

  Zach leaned in and whispered to Bryce, who smiled wide and clapped Zach on the back. With a leer, Zach and Adam went into The Dive.

  She folded her arms over her chest and turned away.

  Bryce held up his hands. “Okay, Syd, whatever you want. Zach went in, he’s ordering you a shot, and if your cab is here before he gets back, no drink. Otherwise say you’ll have a drink with me. Just one.”

  Syd bristled at Bryce’s tone. He was so used to getting what he wanted. His dogged persistence was part of the reason she had grown to like him. And then it became part of the reason he felt okay to pester her continually.

  “Fine.” She dialed the cab company and hugged her leather jacket tighter. Cab company said ten to fifteen minutes until someone would be there for her. Time ticked by. Slowly.

  Zach sauntered out of the bar.

  “Here’s your shot.” Bryce tapped her shoulder.

  Reluctantly, she turned. Bryce stood there, his right arm outstretched with a double shot of something red.

  She kept her arms by her sides. “What is it?”

  Bryce smiled. “A Red-Headed Slut.”

  She opened her mouth to retort.

  Bryce laughed. “Nah. Your hair’s more…auburn or some shit. It’s got Jager in it. Thought you’d like it.” His smile faded. “Drink it, and let’s let bygones be bygones.”

  Syd grabbed the shot from his hand.

  “Go on,” Bryce encouraged, “drink it.”

  Syd held the shot glass between her thumb and forefinger. “On one condition.”

  Bryce folded his arms across his chest. “A guy can’t even buy you a drink without conditions?”

  Syd extended the shot glass back to him.

  He held up his hands in surrender. “What’s the condition?”

  “We’re done. It was a fun night, but there’s nothing long-term here.”

  Bryce chuckled, his eyes traveling her body. “Who ever said anything about long-term? I’m in the market for a fuck buddy, and you make a pretty good one of those.”

  Syd shook her head, the shot glass still extended back toward him.

  Bryce grunted, a contorted mix of acquiescence and anger hiding out in his eyes. “Fine.”

  Syd ignored the dissension pounding through her brain. She shoved her psychic wall back in place, willed her mind to get on board with the plan. And the plan was titled ‘No More Bryce.’

  She chugged it. Fruity and thick with the chilled Jager. Not bad, actually.

  Bryce smiled. “Atta girl.” He took the shot glass from her and threw it against the brick of the bar, smashing it.

  She jumped and took a step back.

  Bryce hovered and tried to make idle conversation.

  Syd watched Woodward for a bright yellow rescue vehicle to appear, keeping Bryce in her periphery. Like every other inhabitant of the city, the cab seemed to be on its own timetable.

  Suddenly, Bryce was way too close, his face closing in, like he was going to kiss her.

  She shoved him back, pissed. “What part of ‘we’re done’ was unclear to you?”

  Bryce’s smirk fled his face and deep-seated rage rolled through his eyes. So fast, and then gone, making her wonder if she imagined it. He closed the distance. “You think you’re better than me? That it?”

  No, not really. She’d thought she needed companionship when she met Bryce. They could talk engine displacement and the pros and cons of super versus turbo charged all day long. She’d mistaken common interest for same wavelength.

  She stepped back.

  “After tonight, believe me, we’re done,” Bryce said.

  Something…something in his voice. Syd shuddered, due to the cold or his words, she wasn’t entirely sure. She took another step back, but the ground felt spongy beneath her. She tripped and caught herself against a lamppost. The ground spun, and her vision darkened to pass-out level. Her head felt too heavy to lift.

  “Boy, Syd, looks like you’re turning into a lightweight.” Bryce wrapped one arm tightly around her waist. It kept her upright.

  Oh, shit. Her heart pounded loudly in her ears, faster even than the frantic beat vibrating behind the doors to The Dive. Syd’s head fell back against her shoulder, and she tried to open her lips to let out the scream buried deep in her lungs. Nothing happened.

  “And hey, there’s that cab you wanted. Mind if I share the ride?” Bryce’s laugh melted and turned vicious in the dazed fabric of Syd’s thoughts. Her lips thickened past speech, her eyelids drooped.

  The yellow cab pulled up to the curb.

  Another set of arms held her up. Her head lolled, and her vision blurred. Adam? Zach? She wasn’t sure.

  Damn it, she should’ve stayed home with the GTO.

  Chapter Five

  Devon ignored the insistent internal knocking in his head. It could only mean one person. Jack. It was a unique feature of their relationship and as irritating as everything else about his brother.

  Devon sighed from his position at the bar. The brunette who’d been shamelessly flirting with him tossed her hair back, gave her best sure thing smile. Sad the prospect wasn’t at all appealing. He studied her clinically, as a sommelier might a common vintage.

  The vision of Sydney underneath him flashed in his head, auburn hair fanned out, green eyes daring to meet his—

  The knock came again.

  “Sorry, sweetheart. Duty calls. Go away.” He laced compulsion into those last words, and, without another word, she turned and teetered off in her stilettos.

  Inside his mind, he let his brother in and opened communication. As if hearing Jack in real life wasn’t annoying enough, he could do without the surround sound in Devon’s head.

  She’s gone. Jack’s voice sounded concerned.

  Maybe she went home? Devon suggested.

  I just saw a taxi leave with her and three other men. Did she arrive with them?

  He’d been watching her before she arrived at the bar. She’d arrived alone.

  No.

  Radio silence.

  No sarcastic retort? Feeling ill, Dev?

  A bit, he admitted. This couldn’t be good. Devon got up from the bar and almost ran right into a woman. Black trench, calculating expression, forty-ish. Out of place in the bar. He moved to step around her. She moved with him.

  Annoyed now. He sighed but mentally responded to Jack. I’ll track Syd. Be ready to ride when I find her.

  Jack’s tone shifted distinctly into all business. Copy that. Find her.

  Not a question. Devon was the best tracker Rafael had. Devon thought briefly of the alternative and all the fiery hellish punishment waiting if he didn’t. You know I will.


  Jack’s presence in his head receded.

  Devon tilted his head down and met the gaze of the woman in front of him. Her pale skin struck a heavy contrast with her dyed black hair. She didn’t flinch when she met his eyes. Point for her.

  The woman impeding his exit spoke, “Do you work for him?”

  Devon’s suspicion-o-meter pegged, his eyes narrowed. A quick scan of her mind showed her to be human without any taint of Hell, but he didn’t have time to dig further than that. Which meant she wasn’t a factor. Syd was the priority. He made a move to leave.

  She grabbed his arm. “Leave her alone.”

  Devon stilled and met her gaze. “Let go of me before I do something you’ll regret.”

  Her hand on his arm didn’t budge. Her resolve tipped from impressive to irritating. And he did not have time for this shit.

  Problem was, if he moved through space with her attached, she came with. And she was another human liability he did not need.

  He compelled. Came as natural as his breath. “Let go of me.”

  Her hand sprung open, and her jaw dropped in surprise. “How did you—"

  He didn’t hear the rest. He willed his body through space, using Syd’s mind like a homing device. Let that woman try to rectify what had happened, not like he gave a shit. He had more pressing problems.

  Devon focused in with all his power on Syd’s location. He’d been in her head recently, so he could pinpoint her easily. She was moving north. She wasn’t conscious as evidenced by the darkness he processed trying to get in her head. He was blind as to her circumstance, except for the unconscious part, which didn’t exactly bode well.

  Rematerializing, he stood in the middle of a five-lane throughway. The light directly above him switched to yellow. The approaching cab slowed for the light. He walked up, put his hands on the hood, and made mental contact with the driver. White-knuckle grip on the wheel, mouth dropped open in surprise, the cabbie stared. Syd sat sandwiched between two men in the backseat, her head lolled onto the shoulder of the one on her right, and her eyes firmly in the ‘off’ position. Another man was in the front passenger seat.

  He compelled all the passengers to shut up and stay still.

  With little effort, Devon penetrated the layer of the driver’s conscious thought. Turn down the street, pull the cab into the alley. Get out of the car and walk away. Devon stepped out of the way and motioned with an ‘after you’ gesture.

  The cabbie obeyed, running the red light. He turned down the nearest alley, left the driver’s side door open, and walked away.

  Devon flashed himself into the alley, in front of the cab. He reached out again to Sydney. Inside her head was an abnormally blank space. He couldn’t say for certain, but his guess was drugged. That, or beaten unconscious. Either way? Not fucking cool. Failure in his mission meant Rafael could release him from service. And he was not getting taken out by three low-life thugs.

  Fist. Open. Repeat. His left hand made the motion, over and over. Fist. Open. Repeat. Once his rage turned cold, Devon released the compulsion on all three men.

  The passenger rear door popped open. The blond man who exited had cocky written all over his face. Probably a matching dumbass tattoo somewhere on his body in Chinese characters.

  Cocky glanced back to Sydney. “This ain’t your business, man.”

  Fist. Open. Repeat. “You are so wrong about that.”

  “What’s it to you if we wanted to have a little fun?”

  “Fun for who?” Devon rolled his head on his shoulders. “Call me old fashioned, but I like my women awake and active participants when I rock their world.”

  Devon sifted quickly through Cocky’s memories… Hold it… Bryce. And he confirmed Bryce had indeed drugged Sydney. That, and he was planning all kinds of nasty.

  “Take off before my boys get out of the car.” Bryce sneered.

  Devon smiled like someone had invited him to an amusement park. “Let’s speed up the process.” He shifted his gaze to the two men still in the car. “Get out of the car.”

  With a slight glazing over of their eyes, the other two men obeyed. Sydney slumped down and disappeared from Devon’s sight. Shit, she needed medical help.

  Thrashing on these guys could wait. Briefly. Devon held up a finger. “Stand there and wait patiently for your beating.”

  Making use of the two-way street, Devon reached out mentally to Jack. Woodward Avenue and Eason Street. Behind the abandoned restaurant, in the alley. The human men drugged Sydney. I could use your skills, J.

  A moment of silence and Jack replied, On it. I’m nearly there.

  Devon glanced back again to the cab. Hurry it up. Sydney’s head was gone entirely from view, and didn’t that make him twitchy. Too bad you can’t teleport.

  Too bad you can’t heal, Jack retorted.

  Touché. Devon’s powers were entirely different from Jack’s. And if Devon could do something nifty, chances were good Jack couldn’t.

  There was a second of pause, then Jack’s concerned voice. Don’t kill them.

  Devon didn’t justify answering that. Of course they were about to die. There had been only one instruction from the Archangel regarding Sydney: kill anything that threatens her. Probably Rafael had meant supernatural beasties, but humans could do their own brand of damage. Devon had been merely human once, so he was well-versed on the subject.

  The three men stood in front of Devon wearing the blank expressions of the compelled.

  A pickup truck turned into the alley, headlights outlining the scene. A moment later, the lights cut out and the weak glow from one ancient flood lamp provided the only relief from complete darkness. A door slammed, and Devon watched the massive form of his brother approach.

  “Where is she?” Jack’s gaze travelled the alley, his jaw clenched tight.

  Devon nodded to the cab. Jack could heal that nasty concoction out of her veins. Probably have her up and about in a jiff.

  Jack turned, walked over to the cab, and picked Sydney up, cradling her head against his broad chest. She could’ve been a body filled with air for the effort he needed to put behind it. “Remember what I said about killing them.”

  Devon waved dismissively. “Sydney still breathing?”

  “Thready.”

  Jack’s hands lit up with the power of his healing. That light was something to behold. Humans couldn’t see it, but to Devon, Jack’s skin looked like sunlight reflecting off the ocean. Everywhere Syd’s skin touched Jack, it would tingle and draw out whatever poison the assholes had put in her. Question was, how much of a toll would it take on J? No free lunches applied across the supernatural border.

  Devon hated to admit it, he really did, but there was no way Sydney would die on Jack’s watch. Let’s hear it for another day on the fine planet Earth.

  Devon turned his attention back to the compelled men. The men that had almost ended this assignment before it began. Wouldn’t be any fun, though, if they couldn’t fight back. He released them from his thrall. The men blinked and looked around. All kinds of ‘what the hell’ on their faces. Devon smiled lazily from about twenty feet away.

  Bryce walked back to the cab and peered in. “What’d you do with Syd, man?”

  Devon rolled his shoulders through his leather jacket. “My brother’s taking care of her as we speak.”

  Bryce took a menacing step forward. “Never said we’d share her.”

  Devon raised his lip. “Never asked.”

  Bryce took another step. His buddies stepped in behind him. The greasy one on the left pulled a switchblade out of his jacket pocket. The crew cut on the right curled his fist.

  “Guess a pretty boy like you always asks for permission before taking what he wants.” Bryce sneered.

  Devon couldn’t help it. He threw his head back and guffawed. “Lemme get this straight. You think I’m pretty? Thanks for that. But polite? We haven’t been properly introduced.”

  Greasy bolted toward Devon, leading with the sharp ed
ge of the switch. Devon side-stepped him, hitting the man’s forearm, causing his hand to spring open. Devon caught the blade on the way down. He pushed Greasy’s back and used the man’s forward momentum to send him hurtling headfirst into the crumbling brick of the restaurant where he dropped to all fours.

  As predicted, Bryce roared with anger. “What’s your problem, man? She ain’t worth it. Worth a ride or two, but she’s a psychic fucking train-wreck otherwise.”

  Psychic? Devon filed the knowledge away. Might explain her ability to resist his compulsion.

  “Here. You’ll need this.” Devon tossed the blade back to Crew Cut.

  Devon cast a quick glance back to the pickup.

  Syd would be fine.

  She had to be.

  Chapter Six

  Syd tried to open her eyes. So heavy. They were so heavy.

  A deep voice rumbled through the fog in her head, vibrating all the way through her chest. “Easy, Syd. It’ll take another minute.”

  She focused on trying to breathe, not panic, and, yeah, open her eyes. Every moment they felt a bit lighter. She was certain she had finally cracked them, but all her vision reported was darkness.

  She moved her lips to speak, but the words were thick and mumbled. “Where am I?”

  Her body shifted, not of her own accord, and that deep voice rumbled through her chest again. “Alleyway. Don’t worry, though, we’ll keep you safe.”

  Safe? We? She didn’t feel safe… How did she get here? And possibly more to the point…where exactly was here?

  Every moment brought more sensation, but clarity was a far cry away. Something warm and hard was behind her and covering her arms. Something cold and metal under her. Raised angry voices nearby.

  Her senses adjusted slowly to the darkness.

  “If you’re feeling ready, you can put your shirt back on.”

  What!

  She glanced down, and saw she only wore her lace cami top. Thank you, Jesus, her jeans were still on. She wanted to shiver, but she felt…warm. How could she feel—

  Seated upright, her legs kicked out in a ‘v’ in front of her. Long, thick-muscled legs in ripped jeans traced the outside of her thighs. She steadied herself and leaned forward. With only a bit of wobble, she looked behind her.