Angel's Desire

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  Angel's DesireThe Fallen Warriors Series

  Rosalie Lario

  In a world where angels rule over humans, twelve outcasts dare to defy expectation, warring with their angel brethren to prevent the extinction of humankind.

  They are The Fallen.

  Book 2

  Fallen angel Ethan has been outcast due to his love of humankind. In order to preserve his immortality, he must find a mate with angel blood...but the one woman he desires blames him for her father's death. As a teenager, Tayla had a fierce crush on Ethan, her angel father's best friend. She was humiliated when he rejected her, claiming she was too young for him. Her love turned to hate when he failed to save her father from being killed by the other angels.

  Battle looms on the horizon, and Ethan can no longer afford to waste time. He must claim Tayla as his...but convincing her she's his mate won't be so easy.

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  Angel’s Desire

  Copyright 2011 by Rosalie Lario

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  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior permission of the copyright owner.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Editorial Services provided by Kim Bowman, Freelance Editor.

  License Notes

  This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.

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  Chapter One

  New Orleans in August. Could the weather be any more miserable?

  Tayla Russo mopped a layer of sweat from her brow and did her best to ignore the scorching heat. It wasn't easy with the sun blazing down from above and oppressive humidity closing in all around her. You'd think she'd be used to it, given that she'd lived here all her life, but she'd long ago realized there was no getting used to this kind of weather. There was only enduring.

  The same was true of a lot of other things too. Like the way humans had lived ever since angels revealed themselves a dozen years ago. When the walls between the dimensions collapsed and left angels without their own world, they had convinced most humans their rule could provide better protection for mankind. Very few people knew this for what it really was—a scam. She was one of those people. Of course, she had a very good reason to know the truth.

  But her father had been dead for over ten years now.

  Shaking away the wave of sadness that still accompanied memories of her dad, Tayla strode toward her destination, the farmer's market. She ignored the delicious odor of freshly baked beignets wafting over from one of the many French cafes she passed. Her thighs didn't need any more plumping, thank you very much. Stepping under the awning that covered the many booths set up within the market, blocking the sun if not the stifling heat, she strolled over to a produce stand.

  "Afa'noon, m'am," the guy manning the stand said in an easy Southern drawl.

  Nodding a response, she picked up several tomatoes, testing their firmness. Somewhere in the market, a speaker system blared jazz music. She paid it no mind until the music cut out and the overly dulcet voice of an announcer took its place.

  "To all our citizens, the Consortium would like to remind you to report any and all suspicious activity. Consortium Guards are stationed throughout the streets, or you can simply dial seven-one-one. And remember, as always, we are dedicated to providing a safe, happy environment for all of our citizens."

  Tayla snorted. Yeah, sure you are. The Consortium was the guild of humans put into place to do the angels' bidding, and Consortium Guards were what passed for cops. Of course they didn't call them that, since there was no longer supposed to be any crime.

  Her disdain for the Consortium wasn’t because they were evil. No, it was that they were ignorant. They had no idea what the angels' true agenda was—to wipe out human existence. After they were done using them as free labor, that was. Few humans knew that. The only reason she did was because she wasn't human.

  At least, not entirely.

  "I'll take these." She handed the guy a basket of tomatoes and another of peaches, along with her pass card. Angels had gotten rid of money when they took over rule of Earth. Now everything was free, but all items were logged on nifty little cards using a monthly-allotted point system. One of the Consortiums many ways of keeping tabs on people.

  Her phone rang just as the man was bagging her items. She dug in the back pocket of her cut-off denim shorts and pulled it out. When she read the display, her stomach did a funny little rolling flop and her heart set a furious rhythm inside her chest.

  Ethan.

  The man she'd loved since childhood. At least, she had until the horrible circumstances leading up to her father's death.

  How was it that, even after all these years, one little phone call from him still had the ability to tie her up in knots?

  Residual emotions, that's all it is, Tayla. It couldn't be more than that. After all, he was the one responsible for her father's death.

  Why was he was calling her? Honestly, she didn’t even want to know. Just thinking of him brought too many mixed emotions to the forefront. She couldn’t deal with having an actual conversation right now.

  Gritting her teeth, she hit the Ignore button on the phone and slid it back into her shorts. "Thanks," she said, accepting the bag the man held out to her.

  Right as she moved away, a sliver of heat washed over her body, instantly hardening her nipples beneath the frilly white tank top she wore. At the same time, a hard, hungry pulse thrummed between her thighs, making her body quake with need. What the—

  Suddenly she knew. Without a doubt. Only one man had ever made her react that way without touching her. Without even being close to her.

  Ethan was here.

  Turning on quivering legs, she raked her gaze over the crowd of passersby, searching out the source of her discomfort.

  There. Across the street. He leaned against one of the antique black lampposts lining the sidewalk. Even though he wore long jeans and a snug, gray t-shirt, he still managed to look cool as rain despite the muggy weather. But then, it didn't affect him the same way it did her, did it?

  A ghost of a smile lined Ethan's face as he stared at her, one brow cocked in challenge as if to say, Too chicken to face me? His dark hair was shorter than she remembered. He wore it slicked back along the sides and carelessly tousled up top. Other than that, he looked the same as always. No older than thirty, though he was in fact centuries older.

  Her childhood hero. Her guardian angel. Literally.

  A myriad of emotions washed over her. Joy, lust, hurt, anger, sadness. He'd always confused the hell out of her, and it appeared that hadn't changed in the years since she'd seen him last. Taking a deep breath, she focused on adopting the calm mask she'd perfected over time. She knew full well if she didn't, he'd be able to sense her emotions up close. It wouldn’t do to reveal just how much he affected her.

  Tayla walked toward him, smoothing back a curly strand of hair that had fallen out of her loose ponytail. It figured he'd show up now, when she looked like she'd just worked a day of hard labor and probably smelled almost as bad. She was no more than a few feet away when he broke out into a careless
grin.

  "Look at you...little Taylee Russo."

  His smooth-as-chocolate voice washed over her, causing a shiver in her spine despite the insulting nature of his address. She stiffened and threw a layer of steel into her tone. "I'm twenty-eight years old. I'm not little Taylee anymore. Haven't been for a long time."

  Ethan's laugh was like a cool caress to her ears. He'd always had the most amazing voice. It had sparked an answering vibration in her body every time she’d heard it.

  "That's obvious to anyone with eyes in their head." He punctuated his words with an appreciative once-over that provoked another tremor in her legs—and higher up. The look was so at odds with the way he'd treated her in the past that she couldn't help but be confused. And that, more than anything, pissed her off.

  She adopted a scowl. "What are you doing here?"

  "I was calling you, but you didn't answer."

  A wave of heat flushed her cheeks at the obvious implication that he'd witnessed her ignoring his phone call.

  "Spotty cell phone reception," she answered, because she wasn't about to explain herself.

  "No doubt." Ethan‘s eyes lit up with clear amusement. "It's been many years since we last saw each other."

  "Not long enough." Even if her stupid body did ache to throw itself into his arms.

  The look of hurt that flashed in his eyes made her instantly long to take back her words. Instead she purposely bit down on her tongue. Don't forget his role in your father's death, Tayla. But she had to say something, so she asked, "How’s Eva doing?"

  "Very well," Ethan said. "She's fully adjusted to her new life."

  Eva, like Tayla, was a nephilim. After her identity had been compromised, Ethan called Tayla to ask if she would be willing to take Eva in, get her fake work documentation, and teach her to live in secret as a nephilim. Most angels despised nephilim—the by-products of a union between human and angel. It was either live under the radar like Tayla had all her life or be destroyed by the Consortium. But apparently Eva had hooked up with Michael, one of the angels Ethan lived with, and in the end, she'd decided to stay with them.

  "Glad to hear she’s okay." Just because her feelings for Ethan had soured didn't mean she despised all angels. Far from it. She was half one, after all.

  Tayla blinked and looked Ethan over. It was so odd to see him again, and in a crowded street of all places. Dangerous too, considering what he was. "How did you get here?"

  His distinctive topaz eyes twinkled as he stared down at her. "We keep a car in Buffalo registered under a false name. I drove from there."

  He'd driven close to a day to get here? That said a lot, considering how much he hated enclosed spaces. Unless that had changed.

  She didn't really know him at all anymore, did she? If, indeed, she ever had.

  "I was driving toward your apartment when I saw you walking down the street," he continued. "So I parked and followed you out here."

  "Okay." Again that begged the question... "But why are you here?"

  Sighing, Ethan straightened off the lamppost. His movement rippled the muscles of his chest, clearly visible under his snug shirt, and her limbs trembled in response. Moisture trickled in between her thighs.

  Great. That was just great.

  Was it possible she was even more attracted to him now than she had been before? How could that be, given the way she felt about him? She hated him.

  Didn’t she?

  When Ethan inhaled sharply, the corners of his mouth turning up and his eyes narrowing, Tayla silently cursed herself. She'd forgotten how attuned to smell angels were. Could he sense that her body wanted him even if her mind didn't?

  "I've missed seeing you." His voice sounded sensual, and his honeyed words enveloped her like a lover's caress.

  Dammit, he probably could smell her desire for him. But despite the way he was looking at her, like he'd love to eat her up, he couldn't truly feel that way about her. Once, many years ago, he'd told her in no uncertain terms that he didn't.

  "Let's be honest, Ethan. Our friendship ceased to exist a long time ago. So what's the real reason you're here?"

  He shifted, looking flustered by her tone. On a breath, he said the very words she would have once killed to hear.

  "Tayla, I'm here because...I need you."

  Chapter Two

  I need you.

  Ethan's words settled around Tayla with all the weight of a ton of bricks. Partially because she sensed the truth in them, but even more because of her feeling that his words were layered in double meaning. She swallowed hard. "Wha—what do you mean?"

  He lifted his head to scan the area. "Not here. Let's talk back at your place."

  Before she could respond, he took her hand. She gritted her teeth against the unintentional moan that threatened to escape upon the contact of their skin. Pulses of energy trickled off him, shooting through her whole body. The essence of an unmated angel, designed to seduce and conquer.

  Ethan led her in the direction of her apartment building, a mere four blocks away. She didn't bother asking how he knew where she'd moved to after her mother's death seven years ago. Part of her had always known he kept tabs on her.

  A Consortium Guard turned a corner and stalked down the street in their direction. He kept his hand on the nightstick he carried as a symbol of his authority.

  Oh shit, oh shit. What if the Guard recognized Ethan? What if he sounded the alarm to bring an army of avenging angels down on them?

  What if Ethan was killed?

  Her heart pumped furiously and her breath escaped her in heavy gasps, making her fear she might start to hyperventilate. Even though she knew better, she couldn't help but stiffen and slip her hand out of Ethan's. Way to look guilty, Tayla. But then, it wasn't every day a girl walked down the street next to one of the world's most wanted felons. Ethan wasn't just an angel. He was one of the Fallen, a group of angels who had been condemned to die for their belief in preserving humankind.

  “Relax,” Ethan said, his tone casual.

  She gave Ethan a sidelong glance, but he looked calm as ever, not even sparing the Guard a second glance when they passed by him.

  "Aren't you worried you might be spotted?" she whispered once they were well past the Guard.

  He shrugged, speaking low she could barely hear him. "Only another angel would recognize me for what I truly am. While it's my understanding that the Tribunal has provided the Consortium with renderings of the Fallen, who would actually expect to see one in an open environment?"

  That was true enough. Unlike angels, who could sense each other, the humans who made up the Consortium had no way of telling whether someone was angel or human. So the only thing they had to go one were drawings of the Fallen, since angels apparently weren't big on photographing. Still, she couldn't help but worry about him, and that sucked.

  She stayed silent for the rest of the walk back to her Mediterranean-style apartment. Once they arrived, he stood aside so she could unlock the heavy wooden door leading directly into the courtyard. It served as the focal point for all the units. Though the housing lottery gods hadn't exactly smiled down on her—she'd been stuck with a ground floor studio apartment—at least she had an amazing little patio. Lush green foliage framed colorful hibiscus and oleander plants. Her tiny, iron-wrought table with two chairs was practically hidden in the sea of green.

  "It's beautiful," Ethan murmured as he looked around the space.

  It was also stifling hot. Tayla peeled her sweat-soaked top away from her flesh, fanning the fabric to get some air flowing. "Come on, let's get inside."

  After unlocking the door, she stepped aside for him to enter and then closed and locked it. "Okay, what gives?"

  Instead of immediately answering, he prowled throughout the tiny space. It took him all of three paces to get from the front door to the couch, and another two to the kitchen. He moved as if he was staking a claim on the place. Like a hungry tiger on the prowl. Nothing new there. He'd always moved that way, and
it had always drawn her to him like a moth to the flame. Now was no exception.

  Ethan was in her apartment. Part of her couldn’t believe this was happening. How many times as a teenager had she dreamed of getting him alone? But things were drastically different now than they had been back then.

  For one, her father was dead.

  He turned back to face her, his eyes bypassing hers and going directly to the crevice that served as her makeshift bedroom instead. When his eyes darkened and something that looked suspiciously like desire flashed in them, she stifled a shiver. Now that she saw him through the eyes of an experienced adult, she realized why he'd always confused her. It was those looks of his, like he really could feel something for her. But he'd told her once he didn't, so she had to be wrong. Right?

  Oh no, having him here was far, far too dangerous.

  "So what," she demanded, out of patience, "you came here to examine my apartment?"

  He chuckled, shaking his head. But when he spoke, his voice sounded regretful. "What happened to us, Tayla?"

  He really had to ask that? "You know exactly what happened."

  His eyes grew sad. "I've tried talking to you about that night—"

  "I don't want to go over this right now," she interrupted.

  "I'm afraid you never will." He raked a hand through his hair and turned to pace, only managing one step before he realized he had nowhere to go. With a deep sigh, he swiveled around to face her. "We've learned the Tribunal has built an underground prison for humans. They plan to start covertly executing human figureheads. The extinction of humankind is about to begin."

  Tayla sucked in a breath. Whatever she'd been expecting him to say, that most certainly wasn’t it.

  Oh, she'd always known something like this was coming. Her father had kept her well informed of the agenda of the Tribunal, the justice council that ruled over all angels. She knew full well he'd been condemned to die because he was against wiping out the existence of humans. But on some level, she never thought she'd see it during her lifetime.