Every Angelic Moment Read online

  “We could sell it,” Brin suggested as they put their equipment away and headed to the truck they shared.

  “I was thinking we’d keep it. Maybe when we find our mate, she’ll like camping and it’s something we can do as a family,” Quill suggested.

  “As long as we can have a real home at some point, I’m game,” Brin said.

  Ian drove, his gaze riveted to the windshield. “That okay with you, man?” Quill asked.

  “You’re the boss.”

  “I know. You just seem a little tightly wound lately.”

  Ian parked in the bar’s lot and turned off the engine. He continued to stare straight ahead as he spoke. “I’m going to go for a walk. I’ll meet you back at the camper later on.”

  “Are you okay?” Brin asked.

  Pulling the keys from the ignition, Ian handed them to Quill and said, “I’ll see you later.”

  He got out and shut the door, leaving Quill and Brin alone.

  “Should we go after him?” Brin asked.

  It went against Quill’s instincts to leave his brother alone when he was so clearly going through something, but he didn’t want to crowd him. “No. He said he’d meet us at home, so he will. If he wants to talk, he knows where to find us.”

  “Do you think it’s about Dad?” Brin’s voice was a low whisper. It was as if even saying the word ‘dad’ was too much bad juju sometimes, because of how unhinged he’d become at the end.

  “I really don’t know. Whatever it is, Ian knows where we are.”

  “Right. I’m about to kick your butt at pool.”

  “Hardly, little bro,” Quill said. “If you beat me, I’ll do all our laundry for a week.”

  “Oh, now I totally have to win.”

  They headed into the bar to see who was better at pool. Quill was certain it was him, but he might let Brin win just to keep his mind off their distant brother.

  Maybe.

  * * *

  Ian strode slowly down the street until he saw his brothers head into the bar. Then he circled back and grabbed a duffel from the back of the truck. Slinging it over his shoulder, he double-timed it to the woods next to the bar and cut across town to the place he’d been going two nights a week for the last month and a half. It appeared to be an abandoned warehouse, but if someone was paying attention, they’d see the vehicles parked in the intentionally dark parking lot behind the enormous building. When he reached the building, he skirted along one side to the back, where two large males stood in the shadows, guarding a steel door.

  “You’re here early,” Cley said. His meaty forearms were crossed over his chest, and his gaze missed nothing as he eyed Ian.

  “Work ran late and I was over this way, so just came here.”

  Sandren snorted. “Don’t you make more here in a couple hours than you do a full day in the hot-ass sun?”

  “I can’t exactly claim this money on my taxes or get health insurance with it,” Ian said dryly. The money was good, but it wasn’t quit-your-job good. Especially when he hadn’t explained to his brothers why he left in the middle of the night twice a week. How could he tell them about the underground were-fights when he didn’t really understand why he was doing them himself?

  The fights, which took place in the basement of the warehouse, had been started by a rogue wolf who had a penchant for watching shifters and other paranormal creatures beat each other all to hell. Wallace was a shrewd businessman who made very good money off the fights, not only taking a cut of the winnings but also a piece of the betting action. Normally Ian didn’t show up until midnight, but fighting started at sundown, with new and younger males fighting to move up in the ranks and make it to the bigger fights.

  There was only one rule, which was that no one intentionally killed their opponent. The fights, especially at the higher levels with the more aggressive males, could easily end with someone dead or seriously injured. Wallace had several bodyguard types watching the fights to try to keep them from getting deadly, but shit happened from time to time. Ian had never killed anyone, and he was currently one of the best fighters. The male to beat, as Wallace liked to boast.

  Sandren opened the door. Darkness greeted Ian as he stepped inside. The door was shut behind him, and as the latch clicked an overhead light turned on, adding a sickly amber glow to the area immediately around him. To the right was a closed door. A small male was seated on a stool next to it, smoking a cigarette. He was some sort of fae, with wings that weren’t quite straight because they’d been broken and healed wrong. He looked easygoing, but Ian had witnessed the male use a sword during a skirmish outside of the building once. He’d proven that size wasn’t really a good indicator of how dangerous a person was.

  “Early,” Teun said, taking a long drag on his menthol and blowing the smoke into intricate rings over his head.

  “Yeah. Busy?”

  “As usual.” He opened the door. “Good luck.”

  Ian nodded as he passed by the male, trying not to wrinkle his nose at the cigarette smoke. His beast wasn’t crazy about this place, and Ian wasn’t too fond of it either.

  The fighting took his mind off things better left alone. After he’d realized what his father had done, and before he’d started fighting, he’d battled insomnia. As the protector, Ian was ashamed that he hadn’t questioned their father’s behavior earlier, but he’d loved his dad and trusted him. When the truth came out, it had all suddenly seemed so clear. He’d wondered why he missed the clues that had spoken of Davion’s descent into obsessive madness.

  Which he hoped to fuck wasn’t hereditary.

  He moved down the concrete steps, the scent of testosterone and blood hanging heavy in the air. As he reached the bottom, he heard a thud and a cracking sound, followed by a cheer. He suspected someone had broken something and the spectators enjoyed it. Ian didn’t know why, but there was an almost cult-like following for the fights. Humans, shifters, and others watched eagerly and bet heavily. Since shifters couldn’t participate in legitimate leagues, illegal underground ones like Wallace’s were all over the world. They gave weres an outlet for rage and tension, and the fans something to cheer for.

  He stopped and looked for Wallace, finding the male in a glass booth overlooking the main ring. Next to the owner stood a male who was easily one of the biggest Ian had ever seen. Axtyn had been a fighter before Ian joined, but something had happened to him and he’d been banned from the ring, relegated to being Wallace’s bodyguard instead. He was a shifter of some unique sort that no one would talk about. Ian had never exchanged more than a few words with Axtyn, but he’d heard enough about him to think of him as a powder keg that just needed a match to blow everything to hell.

  Wallace spotted him and Ian nodded in greeting, then walked to a prep area in one corner and set his bag down. While he changed into shorts and nothing else, he pushed away thoughts of anything except the fights ahead of him. He wasn’t going to think about finding a mate to share with his brothers, or starting a family, even though those thoughts had been invading his mind more frequently lately. He was going to focus on the fights, and winning, so he could prove to himself that he was the best fighter and therefore the best protector for his clan. He’d let his brothers down by not being more vigilant – and there was no better school for learning vigilance than an illegal were-fight, where his opponents could and would do anything to win.

  Later, he’d think about a mate.

  But right now all he was thinking about was blood.

  Chapter 3

  Saturday morning, Angel made her bed and then ducked down to grab the box of supplies she’d stuffed underneath. She’d recently learned how to press flowers, and had started making greeting cards decorated with them. Ally and her husbands wanted to sell them in a new gift shop they were creating at the registration cabin, and they’d asked her to put together several bundles of cards. She was still in the process of collecting enough flowers.

  “Whatcha up to?” Brierley asked, taking a bite of a
pple that crunched noisily.

  Angel straightened and set the box on the bed.

  “I’m going to pick flowers. Do you want to come?”

  “Thanks, but no. I’m helping Ally make curtains for the cabin we just finished cleaning. I was going to ask if you wanted to help.”

  “I’m not much of a sewer.”

  She chuckled. “I know. Have fun picking flowers.”

  “I’ll catch up with you later.”

  “Sounds good.”

  Angel carried her box to the kitchen table and opened it to check her supplies. Depending on the flower, it could take anywhere from a day to several weeks for them to dry. In her closet, she had flowers pressed by heavy books that were in the process of drying, but she knew she could never have too many. And there was something very peaceful about being out in the woods, looking for the little patches of beauty among the dark trees.

  Her phone buzzed. She pulled it from her back pocket and smiled at the screen. “Hey Whisper, how’s my preggo bestie?” she asked.

  “Okay. The kiddo is kicking the hell out of my insides, though. Kept me up all night. I think he might be dancing, or Jazzercizing.”

  “Aw, sorry. But pretty soon you’ll have him in your arms and then you’ll have a whole different kind of sleepless night.”

  “Thanks,” Whisper said dryly. “I got your email confirmation. I’m so glad you’re coming to the baby shower.”

  “I wouldn’t miss it.”

  “Do you think you can stay for a while?”

  “I told my mom and step-dad that I’d stay for a couple days. I have to get back to help with cabin cleaning for the gathering, so I can’t stay away too long.”

  There was a brief pause and then Whisper asked, “Do you ever think about coming back here to live?”

  Angel sat at the kitchen table. If someone had asked her a year ago if she’d be happy living in the mountains and working at a campground, she would have given a resounding no. But when Bliss brought Brierley home from her honeymoon, Angel had felt immediately protective of the young owl shifter. When Brierley was no longer welcome in pack territory, Angel had taken her to meet Ally and her husbands. Angel immediately felt at home with the baro, even though she wasn’t a shifter. It had been hard to say goodbye to Bliss and Whisper, but it had been the right choice for her. She knew that Whisper was also missing Bliss, who’d moved to Ocean City, Maryland, with her hyena mates in the spring.

  “I’m happy here.”

  “You could be happy here. I mean, if you like cleaning so much, you can always come clean my place.”

  Angel snorted. “I always felt like an outsider with the pack. Mack treated me kindly, but I never felt like I truly belonged. Here in the mountains, I do.”

  Whisper sighed. “I miss you.”

  “I miss you too, but we have phones and texting and email, plus video calls. We’re not exactly out of touch.”

  “Will you come visit for Thanksgiving, too? Miracle said she’d host this year and I can’t wait.”

  Angel hadn’t met the dragon mate of the former pack alpha, but she’d heard wonderful things about her. Whisper said that her adopted father was happier than she’d seen him in a long time.

  “I’ll check with my parents, but yes, I’m pretty sure I can come for Thanksgiving.”

  “Okay.”

  “Have you picked names yet?”

  “Azrael wants to call him AJ. For Azrael, Junior.”

  “I’m sure Fade and Nyte think that’s a terrible idea.”

  “Of course. I’m leaning toward Jasper.”

  “That’s a cool name.”

  “Thanks. The guys said the choice was mine, and I think Jasper Stone sounds perfect.”

  Angel agreed with a chuckle.

  “I can’t wait to see you,” Whisper said.

  “Me either.”

  The call ended, and Angel looked at her phone for a few moments, mulling over her life at the campground. She was honestly happy, happier than she’d been in Beyton. The only thing missing in her life was romance, but Brierley and Ally seemed certain she’d meet someone at the next gathering. Or several someones. While the idea of having multiple boyfriends was intriguing, she wasn’t sure that was in the cards for her. Just because her two best friends had three mates each didn’t mean that her love life was headed in that direction. All she really wanted was a guy to love her. It didn’t matter if he was human, or a shifter, or something else.

  She closed the supply box and tucked her phone into her back pocket; then she grabbed her flower basket from under the kitchen sink and walked outside. It was already hot out, but it would be hotter as the day drew on, the late August heat becoming downright oppressive. It seemed like a good day to go for a swim in the lake; she’d find Brierley when she got back from her flower-picking to see if she wanted to go.

  Heading away from the cabin, she followed a trail into the woods, letting her feet lead the way. The campground’s property was quite large, spanning several miles. It contained numerous walking and hiking trails, dense woods, and a lake, and was bordered by a river on one side. The sunlight filtered through the trees as she moved deeper into the woods, stopping to pick flowers and pretty leaves along the way. She especially loved to find wild violets, and was thrilled to spy a patch of pale purple ones growing just off the path.

  Following another patch of violets further into the trees, she squatted down and used a small pair of scissors to trim the delicate flowers, picking only the prettiest purple blossoms and the greenest leaves. Already she could picture the cards she could make with them. She thought about sending a set each to Bliss and Whisper. Then they could have a little bit of the mountains with them all the time, too.

  She smelled something sweet suddenly, and lifted her head. Taking a moment to inhale again, she sniffed at the faint scent. It was sweet and spicy at the same time. It reminded her of the cinnamon rolls her mother used to make on the weekends, when they were fresh from the oven, piping hot and covered with frosting that melted into delicious puddles.

  Is someone baking out here?

  Lifting the basket, she laid the scissors on top of the flowers and followed the scent. She felt a little weird sniffing the air every few steps, but she couldn’t deny that there was something very appealing about the scent. Deep inside, she felt the urge to find its source. Her skin goosebumped. With each step she took, the scent strengthened, until all she could smell was sweet cinnamon.

  She heard the rush of water and knew she’d reached the edge of the camp’s territory, but she didn’t care. As she walked out of the woods and into a small clearing that was separated by the river, she saw a camper with a truck parked in front of it. The river was low this time of year, and there were rocks that stuck out of the water. She set her basket down on the bank, and stepped carefully onto each rock as she crossed. When she reached the other side, she closed her eyes and inhaled, smiling as the sweet scent grew even stronger.

  The door to the camper opened and two males walked out. The first froze as he met her gaze, and the second bumped into him.

  “What the hell, Quill?” the second demanded.

  Quill growled softly and she heard him inhale. Then that growl turned to a gruff purr. He strode to her, towering over her by a half-foot. His hair was short and dark, and his eyes flashed from chocolate brown to amber.

  “Who are you?” he murmured, his voice rough with whatever beast he had inside.

  “Angel.”

  He buried his face in her neck and inhaled against her skin. She let out a soft gasp as heat flooded her. He stroked her skin with his tongue, and her pussy clenched and her nipples tightened. She fisted his hair and pressed herself against him.

  “Fucking delicious,” Quill said. His teeth scraped her flesh, and she shivered.

  She didn’t realize the second male had joined them until he put his hands on her waist, pressing flush to her back so she could feel the ridge of his erection against her butt.

&n
bsp; “Angel?” the second male said. “Are you really an angel?”

  She giggled and opened her eyes. Quill lifted from her throat with a broad grin. “You taste like sunshine. I’m Quill Mercer.”

  “I’m his younger brother, Brin,” the male at her back said, tipping her head until she looked at him. “Sweet Angel. Where did you come from?”

  “The campground,” she said, shivering again as Quill’s fingers stole under her top and brushed her waist. “I work there. Do you live here?”

  Brin nodded.

  She saw movement over Quill’s shoulder and found herself staring at another male. Although he had similar features to Quill and Brin, he had blond hair that was long enough to dust his chin. He stared at her, his head cocked in question.

  Brin said, “Ian, come here.”

  He didn’t move for a moment, and then he moved so fast that Angel couldn’t track him. He was suddenly at her side, his fingers burrowing into her hair and his lips crashing against hers. His tongue pushed into her mouth and the sweet, spicy taste of him filled her. She moaned. She really couldn’t help herself.

  He lifted from her with a growling purr, and his eyes were the prettiest denim blue color she’d ever seen.

  “I’m Ian.” He grinned and his eyes flashed to amber, then back to blue.

  Brin turned her to face him. He had a dusting of scruff on his face, as if he hadn’t shaved in a few days. His eyes were dark green, and they swirled with amber as Ian’s had, too.

  “Why did you come here?” Quill asked as he gathered her hair to one side and exposed her neck. He kissed the side of her throat, his warm breath fanning her skin and drowning her in his spicy, sweet scent.

  “I…don’t know.” It was too crazy, wasn’t it? That she’d followed a smell in the woods and found the sexiest men she’d ever laid eyes on? They’d think she was a pineapple short of a fruit salad.

  Quill slipped his hands up the front of her top, cupping her breasts and drawing her back against him. She gasped as he held her close.