Burn Read online

  Table of Contents

  Legal Page

  Title Page

  Book Description

  Dedication

  Trademarks Acknowledgment

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  New Excerpt

  About the Author

  Publisher Page

  Burn

  ISBN # 978-1-78430-748-6

  ©Copyright Belinda McBride 2015

  Cover Art by Posh Gosh ©Copyright September 2015

  Edited by Ann Leveille

  Pride Publishing

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Pride Publishing.

  Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Pride Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.

  The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.

  Published in 2015 by Pride Publishing, Newland House, The Point, Weaver Road, Lincoln, LN6 3QN

  Pride Publishing is a subsidiary of Totally Entwined Group Limited.

  Bad Angels

  BURN

  Belinda McBride

  Book two in the Bad Angels series

  Falling isn’t so bad, it’s the landing that hurts.

  Following an auto accident, Rex Clark lays near death in the rocky wilderness of the Trinity Alps. Just when it appears that things can’t get worse, she shows up. Anahita…the succubus. She’s been his frequent companion, and the bane of Rion’s existence, for well over a century. But it seems that this time she’s come to help.

  From the frozen villages of the Inuit to the cities of America, Dr. Noemi Gastineau has seen it all. When a fallen angel shows up at the reservation clinic with an injured Sidhe, Noemi takes everything in stride. Yet within hours, she’s swept into an enchanted world she never imagined existed.

  So why are the men so temptingly familiar? And why is she suddenly so afraid?

  A fallen angel, a Sidhe, a human and a succubus. Never mind the demons, these four are about to catch fire! The question is…who will survive the burn?

  Dedication

  When I was ten years old, my father drove a logging truck up in the Trinity Alps. One weekend, he took me on his run up to Hyampom, and when we were on a winding road in the middle of the forest, we had a wreck. The truck tipped, dumping the entire load of logs down a steep embankment to a river. My father was uninjured, but a heavy toolbox crashed into me, resulting in broken bones and a head injury.

  I was in shock and my father was afraid that I might not pull through. Back then, there were no cell phones and the radio in the truck was broken, so all we could do was wait there for the next truck to make its run. It would be at least a half day.

  Rescue did come, and from a surprising source. A woman drove up in a sedan. She was blonde and pretty and really had no business being out there in the wilderness, but there she was. Like Rex, it seems I had my own guardian angel that day.

  I don’t know her name, but I will always be grateful.

  This book is dedicated to the rescuers.

  Thank you.

  Trademarks Acknowledgment

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

  Romanza: Andrea Bocelli

  Styrofoam: The Dow Chemical Company

  Chapter One

  Who knew that ice could burn like fire?

  Miles beneath the surface of the Earth, she lay, slowly waking. Panic came hard and fast, her eyes were glazed and frozen. Ice invaded every orifice of her body—nostrils and ears and mouth—preventing her from seeing, hearing…screaming. Hell wasn’t fire. No. Hell was ice.

  She burned. Demon fire licked her skin even as the ice held her captive in its grip.

  Her frozen body convulsed and long-stored energy exploded from her innermost being. Above her, the slowly thawing permafrost buckled and groaned, the landscape altered and shifted. Trees fell, lakes drained and animals fled for safety.

  An old woman stood. She was heavily cloaked in skins and furs. Her bright brown eyes gleamed like polished obsidian in her deeply creased face. As though she was much younger, the woman rode out the Earth’s pains, waiting patiently as water began to bubble from a sheet of ice. As soon as it touched the frigid air, the water froze into elaborate formations that were the expression of nature’s finest art.

  The agonized shift of ice sounded like a scream in the old woman’s ears. Pain and fear resonated through the air. Before the imprisoned creature came forth from the grip of the glacier, her energy burst from within, swirling in a red, turbulent cloud. She was desperate…starving.

  Before the woman’s eyes, the creature’s spirit vanished, seeking a path to the energy it needed to live and survive this torturous rebirth. Ahnah looked across the great chasm in the ice and faced the demon who stood leering at her. He also waited for the rebirth of the ice-bound creature. He’d been the one to send demon fire down to awaken her.

  She supposed he looked pleasant to most people. Even handsome. But Ahnah gazed at him with knowing eyes and saw only twisted malevolence. He was a parasite who delighted in the taking of others. And he waited for the powerful female locked in the ice beneath their feet.

  “She’s not for a cannibal such as you, Kelet.”

  The demon grinned and waited. His human façade melted until he crouched on his haunches, clawed fingers scratching impatiently at the surface of the ice.

  For endless hours they faced each other there in the frigid, whirling winds. It was a long walk home, and would be longer since the cold was creeping steadily into her bones. But Ahnah knew her responsibility to the Fallen. She’d long heard stories of the star-colored woman who’d crashed into the ice, fleeing the great monster who pursued her. It hadn’t been Kelet, but another. One who’d tortured and twisted the angel into an unwilling mockery of herself.

  She’d fled to save others. That’s what Ahnah had heard. She’d fled to escape the dark ones who wished to use her, to consume her soul. The wise woman reached into the folds of her clothing and drew out an amulet on a leather cord. It was her most powerful medicine, whalebone carved by the skilled hands of her grandmother’s grandmother. It carried the power and magic of every woman who’d owned it. She smiled inwardly when the demon’s power wavered slightly in the presence of the sacred object.

  He frowned and looked down in bewilderment, shaking his clawed hands, which slowly became the same colors as the gray and white landscape. For the first time, fear showed in his eyes.

  Ahnah had no mercy for the demon and watched without pity as the ice grew up to trap his feet in place. “You should not have come to this place, Kelet.” The demon wasn’t a stranger to her, normally she’d accept him as part of Nature’s balance and allow him to live. But now, today, the stakes were too high. She showed no mercy as ice slowly claimed his body.

  Time stretched out meaninglessly and Ahnah waited without becoming weary or afraid. In time, the Fallen’
s spirit would return to her body, well-fed and healthy. And so the old woman waited, her back hunched to the wind, her careful gaze on the broken, crumbled crater in the ice.

  * * * *

  Anahita shrieked in pain. She screamed in long forgotten fear, and her starved, frightened essence escaped her corporeal body. Her spirit broke from the glacier even as her panicked body remained entombed.

  In desperation she fled, searching instinctively for what she needed. Without physical eyes to guide her, she perceived bright dots of energy on the Earth below. Any would serve as food, but none would be enough.

  Lights flashed and died out quickly…too quickly for her to capture the energy being released. She cast her senses farther, over the continent, over the ocean.

  On the horizon, three lights glowed brighter than most. They almost lit the sky with pure, unadulterated energy. That energy would be hers if she could only capture it.

  Swiftly she arrived and hovered over those three beacons, bathing in their glow and allowing the energy to fill her, shape her, to give her form. She could very nearly see now, though her sight was not through her eyes. Three forms were lying on the ground.

  Three male forms with energy that was raw and possibly limitless.

  Not really knowing what she did, the creature cast herself over all three, instinctively drawing her power to the cradle of their manhood, drawing them to arousal. One cried out in fear…and pleasure. His dreams had been erotic, his body primed for release. The energy that escaped at his rapid climax soaked into her, filled her, and tamed the insane hunger just a bit.

  Again she drew him to release, spreading her essence to include the other men. One lay sheltered behind a shield she could not penetrate, so she turned from him to the others. Mindlessly, blissfully she fed, deaf to their cries of fear and pain. Deaf and uncaring.

  She fed, and as she fed, one male found the strength to break her hold. He was a gleaming light in her mind’s eye. He was beauty and light and goodness.

  He was knowledge and truth. And Anahita knew him.

  Horror lanced through her. She loosened her grip and a second male slipped free. His light was as bright as the first and she retreated in fear.

  She was nearly sated, her mind coming slowly to grips with what she was…what she had become. She remembered what she had once been.

  Knowledge. Truth.

  It tore through her, thrusting her away from her prey like a stray dog under the boot of a farmer. She withdrew, casting a single, lingering glance on the third man, the one who fed her in such abundance. His taste was different than the others’. Perhaps his energy was a bit sweeter because it was freely given. This one knew sacrifice lead to great rewards.

  He fed her, but he’d taken something of hers.

  His flavor was that of life and growing things. It settled, warm inside her, spreading like a comforting blanket. She let go and rose, allowing her body to call her back to its icy grave and all-consuming blackness. As she settled into that frozen shell, she carried a seed…a memory. And that memory would grow to overtake the darkness that had threatened her soul all those many years ago.

  In some way, Anahita knew the circle had been closed and she had been saved.

  * * * *

  The Fallen shivered in the frigid wind. Her ice-seared eyes opened to see an elderly female hovering above her body, looking at her in concern. Beyond her were a hard gray sky and an ice-locked landscape. The woman helped her rise, quickly wrapping her feet and body in warm furs. She looped something around Anahita’s neck. Automatically, her trembling hand settled over it and the object gave her great comfort.

  The woman spoke, but it was no language she’d had ever before heard. Yet the meaning was clear.

  “Don’t be afraid, little one. Let your old mother take care of you.” Every instinct Anahita possessed told her the woman spoke true and that she was finally safe.

  Together they walked away, two stooped figures bending against the ice-laden wind. They quickly vanished into the coming night, leaving behind a frozen figure that slowly disappeared into the ice where Anahita had lain for so many years.

  Chapter Two

  “Fancy meeting you here.”

  Rex Clark lay as comfortably as possible, given that he’d landed on a rocky embankment, one leg twisted into an improbable position. He sighed, feeling unwelcome arousal growing in spite of the unremitting pain that lanced his body. He was like a Pavlovian dog, a touch of red made him think of her, and thoughts of her drained the blood from one head, relocating it to the other.

  “But really, darlin’, I’m not in the mood right now.” His unruly cock denied his words, growing thick and heavy inside his torn jeans. He gasped at the sensation of her touch as it trailed over his groin.

  Over the decades, more than a century now, she’d become a familiar presence. She’d initially taken her pleasure from both him and his angelic lover, Orion Hunter, but eventually she’d weaned herself away from the angel. Perhaps she sensed his unwillingness to contribute to her cause. Rion Hunter was normally an even-tempered man. He was as kind and angelic as his origins would suggest.

  However, he didn’t like the succubus. And she didn’t like him.

  On the other hand, she clearly found Rex willing and quite tasty. In the beginning she’d been voracious, nearly draining them both on the occasions she’d managed to track down the Sidhe and his lover. In time the succubus had learned to temper her appetite. While Rex was more than able to survive even her most powerful attacks, she’d frequently left him crippled and weak. Now, feeding her was like donating blood. He felt a bit tired for an hour or so afterward, but Rex’s unlimited energy quickly restored him, leaving him good as new.

  It wasn’t bad, except for the fact that Rion went quietly hysterical every time she managed to track them to a new country, a new city. In Rex’s opinion, they should be chasing her rather than fleeing. Other than giving him a series of blissful, draining orgasms, she really didn’t do any harm. He’d never seen any evidence that she was in league with other more dangerous demons. From the beginning, she’d been a lost soul in dire need of their help.

  Plus she gave really good head.

  So as the red haze began to form over his body, concentrating at his groin, Rex wasn’t really frightened. He did wish she’d wait for a more opportune moment, perhaps after he’d healed from the numerous fractures and internal injuries that currently afflicted him.

  “Tell me, lassie, can you hear me?”

  He’d lapsed back into the old Highland Scots accent, too tired to pretend to be anything other than what he was.

  The charms tattooed onto his skin hid his extra, less human features from plain sight, but he no longer had the magical energy to hide his natural glamour. Even with the wings and tail hidden, most humans would notice the coloring and sheer charisma that marked him as ‘other’. The magic required skill and constant energy to maintain. So Rex lay still, praying he would remain hidden from human eyes until he recovered enough to climb to the road, or until Rion came for him.

  Both prospects seemed unlikely at the moment. Especially if she decided it was time for a snack. In that case, Rex might end up taking a dirt nap on a permanent basis. Immortal didn’t mean indestructible, just harder to kill, and he didn’t think he could survive the loss of his remaining energy.

  “I hear you, Fae.”

  He blinked in surprise. She’d been chasing and feeding off him for over a century, but she’d never before communicated. He had to be hallucinating.

  “Dreaming.”

  Oh. That. He was unconscious.

  “I’m not Fae, lassie. I’m Sidhe.”

  There was a slight pause as she processed that information.

  “Same difference.”

  He snorted with laughter, then gasped against the pain. He didn’t think the Fae he were acquainted with would agree. Uppity creatures.

  “Your energy is poor.”

  Did he detect a trace of concern in that mo
notone voice?

  “I do believe I’m dying, lass.”

  She said nothing but he felt something ripple through the red haze of her presence. Early on, she’d very nearly manifested a solid form when she’d visited them. Now she was merely a vapor floating over his body. His poor, broken body.

  “You are immortal.”

  “True, but I can be killed.”

  “You are injured?”

  “Badly, lass.” He tried to shift, to find a more comfortable position. “I’m out of fuel. There’s nothing left to keep me healing. So if you don’t mind…no sex today.”

  “I didn’t come to feed. I felt…you.”

  A sensation ran over him, soft and shivery. It was almost as if she touched his skin, his face.

  “I didn’t know you could be killed.”

  “Or you’d have done it earlier, eh?”

  “No.”

  He sensed her feelings. Anger. Confusion. Guilt.

  “Perhaps if you could tell Hunter…”

  “I can’t. He’s not asleep.”

  Now how would she know that? She hadn’t visited the angel in decades. In fact, the succubus had been the main source of contention between the men. Rion was afraid of her, angry that Rex allowed her to feed. Rex felt pity for the succubus. Not fear.

  “Would you keep me company then?”

  “Yes.”

  Rex rolled his head to the side, looking at the beautiful wilderness just out of his reach. He knew he was asleep…or unconscious. Otherwise she wouldn’t have had entry to his mind. But still he looked about, admiring the steel-blue waters of the river. Wildflowers swayed in the wind and butterflies danced over the brightly colored blossoms. It was a beautiful place to die.

  The scene was marred only by the stench of burning rubber and oil leaking from his wrecked car. To his relief, the spilled gasoline had already evaporated. Rex didn’t want to test himself against fire.