Sin of Fury

Chapter 9





Talon’s body was immersed in flames. It was brighter, higher, than it had ever been before. Remnants of power from their passionate scene dwindled quickly, and he could only grasp for sanity as every bit of strength left his body.

Flames seemed to surround him, holding him still with pain and the promise of hell. Soft hands... His face, covered, almost drenched with the heat-filled droplets that held pain, twisted with a grimace as he struggled to turn to the caressing hand.

The touch robbed him of his breath. The pain, intense and burning, ceased. An angel... His mind reeled at the thought. What was an angel, so innocent and pure and bright, doing with him? He was the carrier of the devil, blackness filled his heart, his very soul — was God taking mercy on him, something that he had been robbed of for what seemed like an eternity?

“Talon...” Her voice was like bells. Magical. Ethereal. Enchanting. He sought the for the woman who held the power of such a pure and angelic voice, but the pain that shot through him held him immobile. He jerked, panic causing his face to tighten even worse as his body started to convulse.

“Please, you need to get up. I’ll help you, but please... Talon, get up.” Why was she so angry? he thought brokenly, desperation tinting his expression. What had he done to make her so furious with him? He flinched away from her mentally, fearful that she would strike him. He wished he could see her face... why couldn’t he?

His hands fisted, fury replacing the panic that held him so obsessed with him. He could not even see her. Was he not good enough to be graced the view of an angel? He roared, wrapping his hands around his neck. “Let me go,” he shouted, no longer possessed with thoughts of her innocence. If she wished to hide from him, then so be it. But it would not be without a fight — he would find the angel, and she would be his.

His roar had Jamie jerking back. The man’s muscles...they bulged. Her eyes widened as his body surged in her direction, territorial rage covering her face even though his eyes were closed. The pain that he expressed killed her, yet the fear that she felt as his hand came closer to her erased any sympathy that she might have felt — or at least most of it.

She retreated somewhat. His face was contorted, rough growls slipping past his tense lips. His hand, clawed and reached, came dangerously close to her thigh. She swallowed, trying to put aside her fear. He had only tried to kill her, she thought, staring at him. Just a minute ago he had been ready to tear her apart, but that didn’t mean anything...did it? Jamie shuddered, then slowly reached out her hand, placing it over his.

At the delicate, fearful touch, Talon froze. She stared at him hard as his face changed, became impossibly soft. Jamie started to frown, inching closer to him, relaxing only minimally. She almost peed herself when his other hand came down on top of hers. Slowly, oh-so slowly, it trailed up her arm until it got to the inside of her elbow. Her heart pounded in her chest, mind reeling.

The fear seemed to have left her. Something about his touch... Her heart went out to him. Whatever had been happening earlier had alarmed her, but surely there was another reason other than his hate for her to have caused it...

His fingers, as light as feathers and as worshipping as a priest, slid up to her shoulder and then...farther. Jamie was helpless to lean into his touch as his hand came to her hair. He threaded his large hand into the thick mass and something came from his chest. She was shocked when she realized it was a....purr. A smile lifted her lips, a blush tinting her cheeks as he continued to touch her hair, moving his hand and rubbing her hair between his fingers. The soft tug was lulling, almost as good as it would have been had he been talking with that deep, tantalizing voice of his.

Her body shuddered as she brought herself closer to him, so distracted by his touch that she didn’t notice the man getting unsteadily to his feet behind her. Her mind was calm, guard down. She didn’t see Talon’s eyes flip open, nor did she see Lyne raise his claw-tipped fingers, murder in his furious eyes as he stood above her.

Everything happened so fast, Jamie didn’t realize that Talon had stopped touching her and was now on his feet. hands around Lyne’s neck. A pained roar shot through the room, and she realized it was the collar. Reality snapped back into place quickly, horrifyingly. Jamie jumped to her feet and went to the collar, not worried about Lyne, but the collar itself. It was bringing Talon pain, and as she realized this was their chance to escape, her mind snapped to only one train of thought:

Help Talon. Take the collar. Kill Lyne.

Pain engulfed her, hands almost sizzling as they latched onto the collar. Talon cried out, his hold loosening on Lyne. Jamie whimpered with him, watching as Lyne’s hand came around to grab onto her hair. At that moment, her hands grasped the collar and she yanked.

Lyne screamed with fury. Talon snarled with triumph. Jamie screamed as pain flashed through her. The collar burned her hands, now detached from Talon’s throat. If it had been so easy, why hadn’t he done it himself... She didn’t finish her thought as her scream resounded from her throat. It was so glaringly hot against her skin it seemed to blaze, her pain filling the room with a bright, illuminating light.

And then Lyne yanked. The collar fell from her hands, so tightly clenched that they couldn’t have let go of the torture device, and Jamie was pulled to him. She let out an agonized cry, curling her hands and following him, helpless with his hold on her hair.

She tried to meet Talon’s eyes, tried to plead with him. “Talon, please...”

“Cease your talking, woman!” Lyne screeched, his hand fisting in her hair.

Talon was deathly silent. She couldn’t see his face; tears were blurring her vision and she could barely speak with all of the torment that was wracking her body and hands. Nothing could have lessened it, she thought, and nothing could match it.

She let out a whimper, believing that Talon would leave her with him.

“You have ruined everything! I cannot control him anymore,” he shouted in her ear, the agonizing anger showing like a lighthouse in his voice. She flinched, fear flashing through her like a heated wave.

He was still so quiet... Jamie went limp, giving up. There was no use trying, she thought, eyes welling with tears as Lyne took another painful moment to pull on her hair. The sharp sting almost had her crying out, but she refused.

Talon let out a growl. Lyne froze, grip loosening.

Jamie shivered at his next words. “You never could.”

And then he attacked.





The solid metallic door slid closed with a soft whir. Lights dimmed considerable, and the dark interior of the room was everything that she admired. Her eyes adjusted and she stepped into the room, putting her purse on the counter next to the door.

It was steel, clean and slick in the light. The soft lights above dimmed even more, almost turning black. She didn’t mind, and set about tidying up. A visitor of hers would be showing up soon and she didn’t want to have bad representation.

Man, her day had been hard. First, it got leaked that their subject had gotten taken, along with the key to it all. Whoever had done that had made a very bad mistake. She had worked so hard to keep it quiet that the mission had been a slip-up without Lucian knowing, and now that he knew... Her hands clenched around the bra that she was holding. Now, he would suspect. He might not have said anything about it, or even told them to be on the look out, but she knew he was going to be keeping an eye on them all.

How was she going to get her job over with if he were watching her every movement? Seducing him years ago had been no problem, but his attraction for her had worn off. It still enraged her, after all of these years. Why couldn’t he want her? She was beautiful, she was young, she had a body to die for... She snarled.

The man only wanted money. Years of studying him, working with him, had revealed his mind set. It was all about the money and always would be. He didn’t let himself get attached, and seemed to use his goal to push others away.

She moved to the bathroom, putting her collection of dirty clothes in the hamper. It was habit, she knew. She had no real reason for cleaning. It was easier to will the clothing away, to just replacing them with a thought. It calmed her, though. Things were meant to be clean, orderly.

It had been drilled into her as a child, and she wasn’t strong enough to break free of its hold.

There was a knock on the door, and she stood up straight. She straightened her hair up while opening the door for her visitor. It closed behind him the minute her visitor entered, and she walked into the room. Her suit was still on, the enforcer badge placed regally on her impressive chest. She threw her shoulders back as she met his eyes, cocking her hip.

“My love,” she purred, coming forward. Her hand settled on his chest with soft grace as she pressed against him. “How are you feeling this evening? Want something to drink?”

She wagged her eyebrows at him, her darkening eyes gazing up at him suggestively. He just shook his head, pushing her away. Lucian had the darkest hair she had ever seen. It wasn’t just black, but more. His eyes were bright, though. Silvery when intense, glittering when angry, those eyes were the only thing she saw at night. If she let herself, she could get lost in them.

“Devlin,” he said curtly, shrugging out of his jacket. Power radiated from him as he strode farther into her quarters. She had a house on the outskirts of town, but it was barely used. She preferred to be close to work, and Lucian had funded the making of these quarters for his workers. Unless married, you were required to stay here.

Lucian made it clear that everyone was vital, and wanted them to be there right when he needed them.

It had taken a while, but after he had sent Levi away, Devlin had convinced him to meet her at her quarters. It had been a simple request, but the suspicion in them had been a revelation. He wasn’t going to give into her as he had so easily years before.

A smile curled her lips, the challenge he proposed making her smile. He wanted to be distant? Fine. She would just have to get closer.

She saddled up against him and drew him to the couch. “I can get you something to drink,” she said, smiling with her teeth. She flipped her hair over her shoulder, pushing at his shoulder, and then moving to the attached kitchen. Devlin bit her lip, almost going to the cupboard to get the pills they had given her. Except, that wouldn’t do, would it? He would know.

She filled the cup with tap water, disappointment washing through her. The things he found out always ruined her fun. Like that one time, with the coffee beans...

Lucian took a sip of the water, then set it down on the table next to the plain black couch. The room wasn’t lavish in the least. Lights were dim, the mood was calm, and he looked nice and yummy in those jeans that encased his long legs... Devlin smiled a Cheshire cat’s smile, sitting next to him.

“What did you want to talk about?” he asked, leaning back into the chair. The deepness of his voice had her shivering.

Devlin put her hand on his thigh, slowly rubbing. “Who said I wanted to talk?”

He gave her a hard stare. “I’m really not in the mood for that. I’ve told you enough — and after today I really thought you would drop it.” Lucian started to rise.

She grasped his arm, pulling him down. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry,” she said, voice thick with sincerity. She looked up at him with wide eyes, begging him not to leave.

He sat again, folding his arms over his chest and letting his head fall back. She stared at him, watching the long lashes fall against his cheeks, watching his thick neck move as he tensed and released a breath. Something funny happened in her chest, but she forced herself to ignore it.

“I have some information,” she said, standing and going over to her dresser. He looked at her through one eye, aware and dark. She ignored it.

Large and thick, the dresser made a soft scratching sound as she pulled it open. Inside, there were cases of weapons, knives, and throwing stars. She didn’t use them anymore, the age of them had passed long ago. A smile curled her lip as she returned to him with the thick manila envelope. They were still her favorite, though.

Lucian looked at the folder, realizing that she meant the real deal. She swallowed as she handed it to him, suddenly nervous. Would he be able to tell they were tainted with lies and danger? Once, someone had given him the wrong papers. Without even looking at it or the papers, he had fired the tech who had dared to try and betray them.

The information on those papers could have killed them all if Lucian had believed him.

Now, though, she prayed that her partner was smart enough to fabricate the papers with such secrecy, they wouldn’t give away anything damning. Devlin had been the one sent to do this years ago, and only because she was very good at hiding her aura and tracking others. If deceit surrounded her, no one knew it.

His hand was tight around the folder. Unopened. Debating, sensing. The back of her neck started to tingle before relief washed through her. His hands worked at undoing the folder while he looked at her with suspicion. She held in the nervous breath that she had wanted to release. Thank lord he was actually opening the damn thing. Now to get him to believe it, she thought with determination.

Long, thick fingers pulled apart the lips of the folder, a dark-skinned hand slipping inside to pull out a packet of papers. They were white, with information that she prayed he believed real. If he did, then everything would go smoothly and her overseer could take over the company.

It would be a smooth slide, a very easy shift of power. Devlin might not know what he was capable — he let others do the work for him and took care of the orders — but she knew he was dangerous. The way he carried himself, how he talked and looked... It was all the making of someone who knew he had power.

He flipped through them, then looked at her with unreadable eyes. “How did you get this?” he demanded, looking back at them again. His hands were tight around the papers, the tension in his shoulders visible.

Devlin shrugged, placing a hand on his shoulder. He was so enthralling, so darkly beautiful when he was angry or determined. He ran a hand through his hair, a sound of frustration coming from him. His muscles shifted under her hand, and she ran her hand down his back.

“I get a reward?” she asked, smiling up at him with a knowing look. The sex wasn’t part of the job, but she couldn’t help her. The first time she had had him, it had been too good to not want another chance with him. The withdrawls after their first time had been confusing, had left her wanting more. He never asked her, approached her, or even went out of his way to talk to her.

He treated her just like he treated everyone else — like objects to be thrown aside. Not that she cared, but...still. A man that fine should not be passed up, she thought, eyes dipping down to his hips. He caught her chin with his hand, staring at her.

His eyes were unreadable. Dark and swirling, the normally silvery depths were like molten coal, so cool and black yet liquid and heated. Devlin almost purred out loud, hand flexing on his thigh. His head started to dip, lips parting. Her heart raced with excitement. She twined her arms around his neck and lifted her head for him...

He jerked back. Stood to his feet. Anger flashed through her as she realized she wasn’t going to get anything. “Don’t tease someone like that,” she hissed, standing as well. She took a breath, the fury she felt cooling the fire that had been rising within her. How could he pull away so easily from her? she thought, crossing her arms over her chest and moving to the door.

Lucian walked behind her, shrugged as he opened the door before she could. “Teasing would mean that I actually wanted it, and that I plan to give into it.” His lips lifted at the corner. “I, my dear, did not do, or plan to, do either of those things.”

He left.

She didn’t notice until she sat down on the couch that he had taken the folder with him.





Lucian held the papers in his hand, walking through the night. His shadow fell behind him, the moon rising full above. It was illuminating the sky, guiding his path of travel. Buildings loomed over him, people inside of the large apartments that he had built for them.

They had been standing for years. The very first time someone had come to him for help, offering a part in a company with millions of dollars at his disposal, Lucian had been disbelieving. He had been nothing but a manager at one of the root beer factories at the time, working for his pay and bowing down before a narcissistic boss. People had been fired daily, and he had been put under stress.

The job hadn’t been a loss, even when his boss had seen him speaking with a man in a black suit and fired him on the spot. Lucian had seen a lot, he had done a lot, and he had killed a lot. The man that had contacted him had warned him that this new financial power would come at a cost.

He hadn’t cared.

Now, he had an empire and a lonely bed. It wasn’t important to him, though. He had never had someone sleep next to him during the night and had grown not to care. Devlin had been a pleasant enough lay, but something had seemed to so...empty about it. He had been tempted to take her once again only a few moments ago, but too much was on his mind and he knew it would have been a mistake.

Now, though, he had other things to worry about like his missing objectives, the new policy that was getting arranged, business partners that were stuck in Orlando because of a flight delay, and so much more. His car was down the street, in its normal parking spot. His motorcycle was next to...his friends. He wouldn’t be able to say his name till the man was back. Staring at the pair, they really were the men’s pride and joy. The Agusta 1100 F4 CC was a top model, something that his friend had held immense pride in — not that he drove it much. It wasn’t meant for the business of the city that they were in, the bio of the bike closer to that of a town-bike. His car, though...

Lucian pushed open the door to his office. Rarely did he stay at his own house. If anything, he lived, breathed, and ate his work. The office was his home, and it wasn’t like he had a choice. So many things would come up at once, and get over-pilled by other things. It was an overwhelming process, his work-life, but he put up with it.

At least he had help...or, some. He had been taken while on vacation, and Lucian had strived to keep an eye on him. He knew more than most what it was like to be overwhelmed, but his friend had also been in such a danger that Lucian hadn’t been allowed a slip-up.

The feeds from the camera earlier had shown him what he believed to be his worst nightmare. It had been fabricated delicately, as close and realistically designed as a butterfly's wing. If his tech hadn’t found it, who knew how longer he would have been in the dark about it.

He rode the elevator to the top of the building, waiting for the ping to signal its arrival. It didn’t take long. In less than a minute, he was in his desk and listening to the voice machine read him the messages he had missed while he had been out. His secretary was busy enough that he had given her a small bit of vacation time, and it hadn’t been that big of a deal to take on the responsibility of her work along with his own.

In his early days as an entrepreneur, he had been his own secretary, too wary of losing his newfound power to trust it with anyone else. He was hardened by life, by the things he had seen and done and how long he had lived, but it only helped him in his work. Dealing with snotty men with jewel engraved sticks stuck up their butt was nothing new, and he was known for his cool reserve when handling them.

And how ruthless he was with his power.

The lights flickered on automatically, the fluorescent lights casting a yellow glow because of the lamps that they were in. His desk was large, mahogany, and cluttered. It was probably the messiest it had ever been, and he wasn’t excited to clean it. He remembered the conversation that Levi, Devlin, and he had had as he sat in his desk and pulled the papers out.

It was close to midnight, and the moon was at its highest. Except for the lamps, it was the only source of light that filled the room. The one-way window was open, thick curtains pulled back, and the pull the moon had on him was getting stronger.

So subtle it was like the caress of a baby's hand on his shoulder, he turned in his chair and looked up at the orb. It was white, pale and glowing, surrounded by darkness. As he stared at it, the more he realized that the moon was like Devlin. Lately, she had seemed...more demure, but it was tainted with... Lucian shook his head, unable to place it. Whatever it had been, it wasn’t something he wanted around his work.

He turned around again, the swiveling sound of his chair the only sound beside the scrape of papers as he picked them up and studied them. He forced himself to focus, knowing that this was a big deal and he had to take care of the problem.

An hour later, a call had been placed in New York and the news was being blown up.

One of the most influential men in the United States was missing, and it was time everyone knew.





Flesh parted beneath his hands. Talon roared, power rushing through him as he took Lyne to the ground and pounded his fist deeper into the man’s now-red skull. The sound of flesh connecting with flesh was resonating through the room, but the song it made in his soul pushed him forward.

His other fist, which had been around Lyne’s neck, came up and grabbed his hair — just as it had been in Jamie’s. Fury flowed through him as he imagined Jamie’s eyes watering with pain because of Lyne. As he thought of her, the sound of Jamie’s scream of fear hit him. Blinded with rage, he dragged Lyne into the hall, shoving him through the closed door till it opened, and then slammed it behind him. He willed it locked, and began the onslaught of pain.

Lyne brought up his hand, his claws gleaming in the light. Talon hissed, leaning forward to sink his teeth into his arm — he remembered the pain of Lyne’s nails sinking into his skin, pushing past blood and flesh, and then bone. He didn’t register that something was wrong, that he was too bloodthirsty. Lucian would have been proud —

The thought cut off as Lyne brought his hand down his back. Sharp pain cascaded down his body, like droplets of fire. Talon roared, senses firing. He could feel Lyne’s pain, his fear. It spurred Talon on, made his lips curl back from his teeth as he brought his knee into the man’s groin and then reached for his neck. He felt his anger flare worse when Lyne spat at him.

He was no longer an animal, he was a man who was about to murder the man who had ruined his life. Talon could hear the sound of foots pounding as they came down the hall. It was too heavy to be the thin Auro — he wasn’t worried about it. He forced the feet to be still, the use of his hidden powers absent in his vicious mind.

Lyne’s death was near.

Bloodlust curled in his gut.

Talon sensed Jamie trying to open the door, but he refused. Lyne would not have another chance at her, of giving her pain. He roared, bring his clawed hand up. He saw the fear in Lyne’s eyes before recognition hit them. Talon’s hand buried deep in his chest.

The door flew open.

Talon jerked around to stare at the woman, eyes wild. Lyne took the chance. Talon didn’t see his lips peel back, didn’t see the his canines lengthen even more than they already were.

He was too focused on what Jamie was holding.

The collar. She surged forward, eyes glazed. Talon jerked back, furious at her betrayal before he saw that she was aiming for Lyne. Jamie let out an inhuman sound before lunging at the thin man. Talon moved on instinct, grasping his shoulders and holding him down, making sure to keep his neck away from Jamie’s hands and Lyne’s hands against the ground.

Pure desperation flashed in her eyes before the collar latched itself onto Lyne’s neck and Jamie ran into the room. Talon forgot about her, lip curling with pleasure as he saw the pain overcome Lyne’s face. “This...can’t be...happening,” he gasped out, hands latching onto the collar. Talon let out a pleased growl just as Jamie came out of the room, a fire poker in her hands.

Her face was drenched with sweat. Her hands were shaking. Her eyes were glazed. Her emotions...were gone. Completely gone. Talon watched her, wanting to grab the poker from her hands. Instead, he let her go to see what she would do.

Jamie stared down at Lyne. Emotionless, she posed the long, wrought-iron stick against his chest. He was so thin...so weak as he lay beneath her. She stared at him, breath suddenly turning even. This was the man that had hurt Talon.

She could feel him trying to pull her. It was as if his eyes were speaking to her and wrapping around her like a rope. The pull that she should have felt left her numb, and the fire poker in her hand felt like it was ice cold. Talon was beside him, staring up at her with unreadable eyes.

He made no move to stop her.

The poker came down as quickly as a bow being strung. It sliced through Lyne, piercing his chest and a hollow crunch sounded through the hall. His hoarse cry echoed through her soul as his life faded before her eyes. Crimson eyes slowly dimmed as blood bubbled to his lips. Except, it wasn’t blood. It was oily and black, and the more she stared, the thinner he became.

She felt Talon get to his feet beside her. Jamie swayed, staring down at Lyne’s lifeless form. In a puff of dust, he was gone. There was no spilled blood where his form had been, only a pile of clothing that was floating to the ground. Light sprung from the floor the second the regal clothing hit the ground, nothing but a remembrance of the man who had enjoyed others’ pain.

Something touched her elbow. Something warm, something strong. Jamie turned and stared at Talon for all of a second before dropping the poker and falling into his chest. Hard shudders wracked her body as the poker clanged against the ground. Everything around her seemed to slow down as Talon’s arms wrapped around her, holding her to him as a sob ripped from her throat.

Was it over? It was the only thing she could think as Talon led her from the hall, picking her up. She didn’t know what he planned to do, and at that point she couldn’t care less. She had killed a man — a vile, sadistic man whose goal had been to bring them pain. Jamie’s mind reeled at the thought, pushed it away as cold air hit her shoulder.

Oh, God — Talon set her down the minute she started to gag, held her shoulder with an awkward comfort that didn’t help her at all. As she heaved up her stomach, he gathered her hair and held it back in silence. So many things were running through her head, it was like the wheel was also turning her stomach.

It kept coming, the rancid taste in her mouth permanent. Jamie had thought about killing Chris many times. After he was done with her body, she would lay there in silence and sob softly, wishing that she could just kill him.

He listened to her sob softly, the gagging sounds coming from her throat making his chest hurt as he watched her bowed back. The pain that came from her was devastating, and he felt like he could do nothing to stop it. Talon was heartless, he loved to inflict pain, he loved to make people hurt — but listening to her cry and hack and grieve over killing someone almost had him on his knees.

Talon forced himself not to focus on how soft her hair was and helped her to her feet. Her cheeks had no color at all, her eyes red and puffy, along with her nose. She looked absolutely traumatized. Talon pushed aside the feeling in his chest, the one that screamed at him to take her and run. The fact that Auro was not avenging his brother was a fact that Talon was grateful for. Wherever the man was right now, he had a feeling that whatever he found when he came back was not going to be good.