Apocalypse Rising Book 1: Descendant Read online

  Mikhail dropped into one of the chairs and grumbled. “If I’d known this was going to be so difficult, I’d have—”

  “You would have still followed orders,” Uriel finished for him. Then he turned to Andrew. “You are here because of your family’s heritage, nothing more. Believe me, if I had a choice, you’d be on your way home.”

  Uriel turned and marched out of the room, leaving Andrew to stare, mouth agape, at bristling red wings before they disappeared out the door.

  “Um. Is he always such an asshole?”

  Gabriel sighed and motioned toward another chair. “Andrew, please sit. We’ve much to discuss.”

  “No shit.” Andrew sat and stared up at Gabriel. “So, how about starting with why I’m here? Hell, where is here?”

  Gabriel tucked his wings in and sat on the edge of the table a few feet from Andrew. “You are in Caeli, the realm between Heaven and Earth. We’ve brought you here for your protection.”

  Andrew blinked. “Excuse me?” These guys were nuts. Absolutely, positively insane. “What drugs are you on, man? Must be some really good stuff.”

  Mikhail growled, but Gabriel lifted a hand, silencing the sound. “I know this is a lot to take in, but your life is in danger. You are being hunted.”

  “Whoa.” Andrew shot to his feet, shaking his head vehemently. “Wait. Does this have something to do with those…things that broke into my apartment?” He shivered at the memory.

  Gabriel nodded. “They are demons, Andrew. Hell Hounds. They were created for one purpose: to destroy you.”

  “What?” Andrew shouted. “What the fuck have I ever done? I mean, sure…I’ve shagged guys without giving a rat’s ass about love and all that. Maybe worked more than played, but I seriously doubt I’ve pissed off anyone that bad.”

  “Don’t you get it, kid?” Mikhail said, the calmness of his voice not quite reflecting the expression in his eyes. “This has nothing to do with sex. It has nothing to do with emotions or possessions or whatever else your mortal mind could possibly come up with. This is a fight for your life, for your soul.”

  “I get that! But why me?”

  “Because you are the only descendant of John,” Gabriel answered.

  “Who?”

  Mikhail rolled his eyes. “John the Baptist.”

  “Dude…as in, the guy who knew Jesus?” This shit was getting weirder and weirder by the second.

  “Yeah, that guy.” Mikhail leaned forward, forearms braced on his knees, wings twitching a little behind him. “What part of this are you not understanding? You’re in danger. You’re safe here for the moment.”

  “Well, how about explaining who you are?” Andrew waved a hand toward Gabriel, who sat listening quietly to them. “I remember enough from church to know Gabriel and Uriel are Archangels. But what about you, Mikhail? I’ve never heard your name.”

  “You rarely hear about the Grigori who are not fallen,” Gabriel said. “Like his brothers, Mikhail is a Grigori, a Watcher angel.” When Andrew gave him a blank stare, Gabriel continued. “They were sent to teach humanity. Some went beyond their duties, however, and taught mortals things they should never know. The fallen ones mated with mortal women, creating the Nephilim—mortals with the powers of angels.”

  Andrew glanced at Mikhail. “So you’re not fallen?”

  “No.”

  “But you’re all angels? Okay. But who or what is trying to kill me and why does my being related to John the Baptist have anything to do with it?”

  “How much do you remember from church?” Mikhail asked.

  Andrew shrugged. “A bit, I guess.”

  “Do you remember anything regarding Endtimes, the coming of Christ, or whatever you want to call it?”

  “A little,” Andrew said slowly. “Are you telling me this all has to do with the Apocalypse?”

  “Yes,” Uriel said from the doorway.

  Andrew groaned. Great, Heaven’s red-headed stepchild was back. “Lovely,” Andrew muttered. “And what about my home, my life, my friends? I appreciate you saving my ass from demons, but I have a job, bills to pay. If I don’t work, it’s all gone.”

  The thunderous impact of Uriel’s hands on the table sent shockwaves through the room. Andrew flinched. “What is wrong with you? No one cares about your job or your bills. The only thing that matters is humanity! But then again, if humanity is anything like you, perhaps it’s not worth saving after all.”

  “Fuck you!” Andrew jumped to his feet and stared Uriel down, so close he could see the fire blazing in those eyes. “You know nothing about my world, nothing about my life. Humanity is well worth saving.”

  Crossing his arms over his chain mail-covered chest, Uriel smirked. “Prove it.”

  Andrew growled out of sheer frustration and stormed out. If he didn’t get away from Uriel, he was going to scream.

  The only place he knew to go to was the room with the bed, so he went back there, not bothering to look at Mikhail, who was right behind him.

  “Way to go, kid.”

  “Shut up.” Andrew scowled and dropped onto the bed.

  “No, I won’t.” Mikhail stood to his right and loomed over him, arms crossed, wings hidden. Stubborn, gorgeous fucker. “Pissing Uriel off was not one of the smartest things you’ve ever done, Andrew.”

  “Oh, boo-hoo.” Andrew rolled his eyes. “What’s he gonna do? Flap me to death with his wings?” The words were as hollow as his bravado. Truth was, he had no clue what had gotten into him. Getting an archangel riled up was simply stupid. But damn, archangel or no, Uriel just irritated the fuck out of him.

  Hand fisted in Andrew’s shirt, Mikhail jerked Andrew up off the bed until they were face to face. “Make no mistake, I can protect you from the Hounds, but I can not protect you from him.”

  “I don’t need you to protect me.”

  Andrew gripped Mikhail’s hair and tugged the man closer, forcing his tongue between Mikhail’s lips. Mikhail growled and tore away.

  Then he spun them both, slamming Andrew back against the wall, mouth crashing down in a hard, bruising kiss. Andrew groaned and pushed, fighting for control but failing miserably.

  “I don’t bottom,” Andrew snapped.

  Mikhail seized Andrew’s wrists and pinned them to the wall. “Neither do I. And I’m stronger.”

  “Let me go, motherfucker.” Andrew squirmed against the hold Mikhail had on him. Jesus, the man was strong.

  “Not until I know you won’t do anything stupid. You are reckless and arrogant.”

  “I’m arrogant?” Andrew scowled. “You’re the one who struts around like you run the place,” he shot back.

  “I do run the place.” Mikhail’s hands tightened on Andrew’s wrists, that hard body dousing the fight in Andrew and replacing it with something else. “My realm, my rules. Do I make myself clear?”

  Before Andrew could answer, Mikhail’s mouth was on his, the angel’s tongue thrusting inside. Andrew groaned and tried to pull his hands away, wanting to touch. Mikhail didn’t relent though, and ground their bodies together. Andrew was done arguing; he just wanted this—to touch and taste, to feel Mikhail everywhere. God, what was wrong with him? He should be pissed, but when Mikhail pushed his right leg between Andrew’s thighs, giving him something to rub on, Andrew didn’t give a damn anymore.

  “Mikhail.” Andrew grunted and Mikhail kissed a path down his neck, lips, teeth, and tongue driving him mad. “Fuck me. Now.”

  “Thought you said you didn’t bottom,” Mikhail whispered on his throat, one hand slipping between them to cup Andrew through the thin pants. The angel gave Andrew’s prick a firm squeeze, fingers stroking.

  Andrew gasped, head falling back to the wall with a thud. “I-I don’t…” Need rocked through him, every touch from Mikhail ratcheting the heat up another notch. “Mikhail…” His pants were ripped off his body and Andrew grabbed Mikhail’s hair, moaning into the angel’s mouth the moment skin touched skin.

  Mikhail turned them and put An
drew on the bed, poised over him, one hand braced beside Andrew’s head. “Let me in,” he murmured on Andrew’s lips as he parted Andrew’s legs with one hand.

  Goddamn. The whole world was skewed around him. Andrew couldn’t focus on anything but Mikhail and the fingers sliding inside him, gentle but without warning.

  For a fleeting moment, he thought to ask where the lube came from, but Mikhail added a third finger and everything else faded. Andrew spread his legs, hands cradling Mikhail’s head.

  Pumping his fingers slowly in and out, Mikhail captured Andrew’s left nipple in his mouth. He rolled it between his teeth and sensations bolted through Andrew’s body, cock throbbing in time to his heartbeat.

  “Now.” His voice sounded husky and thick even to him. Andrew groaned when Mikhail thrust those large fingers deeper. “Mikhail, goddamn it, fuck me!”

  “Gladly.”

  Mikhail withdrew his fingers and stood.

  Propped up on his elbows, Andrew watched as that gorgeous body was slowly revealed to him. Mikhail was built, like nothing Andrew had ever seen. The angel’s dark hair fell halfway down his back and looked to be as soft as Andrew imagined Mikhail’s wings would be. Pale skin was stretched taut over hard muscles, every movement mesmerizing. Mikhail’s cock was hard and thick, standing out from his body, clear drops of precome beading at the tip. Andrew licked his lips.

  “See something you want?” Mikhail’s fingers ran down the length of his shaft. Arrogant? Oh, yeah. But fucking beautiful.

  “Hell, yes.” Borne down by the angel’s body, Andrew lay back on the bed, legs spread. “Mikhail—”

  “Shh…” Mikhail murmured. “Just relax. I won’t hurt you, Andrew.”

  “I never—” Andrew gasped as Mikhail’s cock pressed against his hole. He gripped Mikhail’s shoulders, breath leaving him altogether when the angel began to push inside. “Oh…God.”

  Hips flush with Andrew’s body, Mikhail stopped moving completely. He kissed Andrew softly, taking Andrew’s attention off the initial burn. Andrew moaned, easing his hold on the angel. So full, so fucking tight, but God, it felt good.

  “Mikhail…”

  “I know,” Mikhail whispered. Then he started moving, hips rocking slow and easy.

  Andrew rode the sensations, the feel of Mikhail’s cock sliding in and out of him almost maddening. His own cock lay trapped between them, every glide providing the perfect friction. Need pooled deep inside him, the heat crawling up Andrew’s spine. Without a word, Mikhail sped up, strokes growing stronger, deeper. Turning his head, Andrew met Mikhail in a kiss that curled his toes. One more stroke and Andrew cried out, the sound muffled by Mikhail’s mouth. The rush overwhelmed him and Andrew bucked, heat spreading between their bodies.

  Mikhail broke the kiss and threw his head back, hips pumping. Breathless, shaking, Andrew watched spellbound as Mikhail came, the angel’s expression intense and awe-inspiring as he filled Andrew with unbelievable heat.

  Then he remembered—Grigori fell for mating with humans. Oh, God.

  “Mikhail?”

  Head on Andrew’s shoulder, Mikhail mumbled, “Hmm?”

  “That was…I mean…” Andrew squeezed his eyes shut. “Please tell me we didn’t just fuck up,” he whispered.

  “No. Two men can’t create.” Mikhail lifted his head and kissed Andrew’s lips. “My standing is intact.”

  Andrew let out the breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. “Thank God.”

  * * * *

  Leaning with his back to the stone wall, arms crossed, Mikhail watched the procession of souls with only mild interest. This was his duty: to hold those who died until they were deemed worthy to enter Heaven’s gates. Caeli was a way-station of a sort. Most Grigori, those who hadn’t fallen, remained on Earth to watch over humanity. Mikhail didn’t come by his position by choice, but he preferred it to the earthly realm. Unlike Earth, Caeli was relatively quiet, peaceful.

  Except lately.

  Mikhail groaned and let his head fall back, eyes closing. Uriel and Andrew were at it again. Granted, he couldn’t really blame Andrew for arguing with Uriel. The archangel was normally the type to observe in silence, but once riled up, Uriel was a handful, a ruthless, callous angel who took great delight in meting out punishment to those who defied holy orders. Still, there was no one else who could match Uriel’s skill in aerial combat.

  “You’re not going to him?”

  Mikhail shook his head. “No. They will have to learn to deal with each other.”

  Gabriel chuckled. “Perhaps, though I wonder if Andrew does it just to ruffle feathers, so to speak.”

  “I somehow doubt it. He’s learning. Last night, he was more concerned over the state of my soul than the fact that I’d taken the one thing he’d never given to anyone else.”

  “Have you talked with him anymore about things as they stand right now?”

  “Not since yesterday.”

  “He seems to be handling things well,” Gabriel said. A second later came the unmistakable roar from a very irritated archangel. Gabriel laughed. “Well, except for Uriel.”

  “What is with that, anyway? Why is Uriel here?”

  “I think he needs a break from his usual duties.”

  Mikhail snorted. “Right. I personally think he needs to get laid.”

  Gabriel popped him on the arm just as Andrew stormed down the hall, looking utterly furious. “Uh oh.”

  “He’s impossible!” Andrew scowled down the hall at a flash of red-orange. “Why is he such an asshole?”

  “Perhaps…” Gabriel grinned at Mikhail. “Perhaps my brother just needs something—or someone—to temper his fire.”

  Mikhail lifted one eyebrow. “Ya think?”

  “Huh?” Andrew at them both in confusion.

  “What Gabriel means is that Uriel needs a fuck.”

  “Such language, and from an angel no less,” Gabriel chided. “But I agree.”

  “Mikhail isn’t how I’d always pictured an angel to be,” Andrew said with a chuckle.

  “Oh?” One eyebrow rose and Mikhail stared at Andrew. “And why’s that?”

  “Well, for one thing, you cuss like a sailor.”

  Mikhail grinned. “One doesn’t spend thousands of years floating between Caeli and Earth and not pick up a few things.”

  “I need to go,” Gabriel said. “Michael is awaiting my report.” He patted Mikhail’s shoulder. “Don’t get into too much trouble.”

  “Yes, sir.” Mikhail gave Gabriel a mock salute, which only earned him a perturbed glare. Then Gabriel was gone.

  “Okay, that was just…” Andrew blinked, still staring at where Gabriel had been. “How…?”

  “Angel magic. Now, what’s up with you and Uriel?”

  The scowl was back and Andrew slumped against the opposite wall, a few feet away. “Mikhail, this place…I can’t live here. I have a life back on Earth, a home, friends. I don’t want to give that up. Uriel can’t seem to understand that.”

  Mikhail sighed and leaned his head back, eyes closed. “Uriel is a warrior, Andrew, and a damn good one, but he tends to get caught up his work. He delights in it, he loves his station at Tartarus, and when he’s called out, he gets…irritable.”

  “What is Tartarus?”

  “You’d know it better as the Gates of Hell.”

  “You’re shitting me.”

  Mikhail looked over at Andrew. “No, I’m not. Uriel and Tartaruchus guard the Gates. Caeli is mine to control.”

  “Ah, gotcha. Makes perfect sense.” Andrew grimaced. “Not.”

  “Look,” Mikhail sighed. “I don’t expect you to understand all of this. All I ask is that you trust me—trust us. Earth is not safe for you, Andrew.”

  “What do I do?”

  “You don’t have to do anything but survive. You are a beacon, Andrew—our standard under which we fight. But if you were to fall into the wrong hands, those of our enemies, they could twist you into something I don’t think you ever want to be.
”

  Andrew slid down the wall to the floor. “Mikhail, I…” He shook his head slowly. “I can’t do this.” He looked up at Mikhail, his expression one of defeat. It tore something apart inside Mikhail.

  “I’m sorry,” Mikhail whispered, going to his knees in front of Andrew. He cupped Andrew’s face in his hands, thumbs stroking the young man’s cheekbones. “If I take you home, I can’t be there all the time to protect you. I have my duties here, too.”

  “I know. I’m just not ready to give everything else up.”

  Mikhail rested his forehead to Andrew’s. “All right. But if you ever need me, call my name. I’ll be there.”

  Andrew nodded. “I will.”

  “They can’t take you against your will, Andrew. It’s a conscious decision as to which side you fight for. I trust you.”

  * * * *

  Dale stared at Andrew like Andrew had sprouted an extra head. “Dude, you sure you aren’t smokin’ anything?”

  “Fuck you,” Andrew muttered. He slumped in his chair and sipped on the God-awful acrid shit posing as coffee.

  “Okay, lemme get this straight. You wake me up at four in the morning only to ask me what day it is. Then you claim you’ve been gone for…what? A day? Two? When I just left your place yesterday morning.”

  “Shoulda stayed with Mikhail.”

  “Who?” Dale sighed and sat back, his own coffee forgotten. “Who’s Mikhail? And what’s this about your front door being ripped off its hinges?”

  “You don’t believe me?” Andrew stood and glared down at Dale. “Fine. Get your ass up and I’ll prove it.” Tossing his cup in the garbage can on the way out, Andrew left the tiny café—one of only a few left in the city. Dale would follow or he wouldn’t, but either way, Andrew knew the door would provide more than enough proof that he wasn’t insane. At least not completely. The whole bottoming for an angel thing was another story entirely.

  The walk back home was short and Dale fell into step beside Andrew as they neared the building. The front guard stepped to the side, giving Andrew a nod in greeting. Andrew shoved his hand in his pocket out of pure habit, then realized it was pointless. Sighing, he pressed the button on the elevator and ignored the uneasy feeling in his gut.