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R oman sat at the massive round table in the dining room of his home. He stared at the smooth black marble, his eyes chasing the glittering golden veins that wound their way through the stone, cutting through the deep black, creating a beautiful design. As he sat, following the golden pattern, he slowly sipped on his whiskey, the ice cubes gently clinking against the expensive crystal glass.

Around the table sat his fellow fallen angels. They had all showered and cleaned themselves after the demon raid and were now drinking, talking, and eating a mountain of pizza one of them had delivered to the house.

Probably Grigori’s doing, Roman thought, his attention now on the endless amount of pizza spread across the table.

“So, what are we going to do, brother?” Maalik said, sitting himself down in the empty chair to his right.

Roman frowned as he slid an empty glass and the bottle of Macallan over to him. Maalik looked tired, his body tense as he grabbed the bottle and poured himself a glass. Maybe he hadn’t drunk enough blood to replenish his strength from the raid, he wondered, eyeing his brother closely, feeling exhausted himself.

“About what?” he asked with a sigh, glancing out of the floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the ridiculously large infinity pool. Beyond the pool was the most spectacular view of the city below. The glow of the lights twinkled against the night sky.

The amount of information they’d gotten out of the demon they’d found in Charlotte’s cell tonight had been overwhelming, then finding her there as the demon’s prisoner only confirmed she had been the one everyone was searching for. It had surprised the hell out of him.

He couldn’t stop thinking about her. Knowing she was down in the basement, sleeping in one of the empty cells, made it worse. He kept thinking of excuses to go down there, but he dismissed each one. He had more pressing matters to worry about than the hot blonde waitress he had locked downstairs.

“Are you serious? What do you mean, what about? How about the fact Lucifer has Archdemons helping keep order down in Hell?” Maalik snapped, the other angels falling silent around the table. “Or how about that there might be a way for him to get out of Hell, causing an all-out apocalypse and bringing the end of time? There’s that insignificant little thing… Oh, hang on. The minor detail of you keeping the human girl you were eye fucking at the club locked in your basement like a kidnapping psychopath instead of dropping her off at home. I find that last one the most disturbing, brother. Are you going to throw some lotion at her, too, Buffalo Bill?”

The last comment caused some of the other angels to chuckle.

“Maalik,” Roman warned. I wasn’t eye fucking her. I was kissing her, he thought. The searing kiss they’d shared rushed through his mind. “We can’t let her go until we know exactly how Lucifer will use her.” Not because I want to kiss her all over again.

“I think we should kill her,” Armaros spoke quietly from across the table.

Roman stared at the giant tattooed man. He sat there, his hair hanging damp around his shoulders, the light above the table illuminating his dark features and making his odd violet eyes stand out even more. It wasn’t often Armaros suggested or even agreed with harming innocent people.

Armaros was among the ill-fated angels who fell into Hell, and, like Roman’s brother, he crawled out altered . When he’d managed to escape, he returned filled with powerful magic and now suffered with visions of the future, which left him immobilized for hours afterward. He had told none of them what had happened to him or how he had gotten his magic. It was still a mystery, even after all these centuries.

“Why kill her? She is an innocent. That’s not how we do things around here,” Roman told him, furious at the idea of anyone hurting her.

When he’d first stood outside that cell and seen the girl hanging from chains, her face beaten to a pulp, blood all over her, he had nearly lost himself in one of his rampages, and the worst thing was he had no idea why. The girl was a stranger to him, even if his body was responding to her like it had known her his whole life.

I’ve got to get my shit together, he thought, running his hand down his face in frustration.

“Don’t think I’ve come to this decision lightly, Roman. Believe me when I say I know she’s an innocent. But if she is somehow the key to letting Lucifer out of Hell, our only option would be to kill her. The death of one to save the many. If we take her out of the equation, then there will be no way for this whole shit storm to start.” Armaros sighed as if he were the most exhausted man on the planet, a sadness lingering in his violet gaze.

It was then Roman noticed how tired he looked. How have I missed this? he thought, concerned.

“I think it’s the only way to solve our problem,” Armaros added.

“I agree with Armaros,” Grigori said, reaching forward to grab a slice of pizza. His dark brown, shoulder-length hair had been tied back into a ponytail. He leaned back in his chair, his long legs extended out, his big black combat boots resting crossed at the ankle on Roman’s priceless marble table. He ate his slice of pepperoni pizza, chewing loudly and making a mess like a three-year-old child.

Roman tried not to let his anger and agitation show. Out of all the angels, Grigori infuriated him the most with his idiotic sense of humor and overall disrespect for everyone. “And why is that?” Roman asked as he rose from his seat, noticing the small smirk Maalik had as he sipped his whiskey.

Maalik was the only one who ever knew when Roman was annoyed, and his brother knew exactly what was about to happen. Roman slowly walked around the table, making his way toward where Grigori was sitting.

“Well, because it makes bloody sense, doesn’t it?” Grigori replied, still chomping on his slice of pizza. “She will be the cause of letting Lucifer, and in turn, the demons, out of Hell. That cannot happen, and it’s our job to stop it. So, if we kill her, problem solved.” He smiled as Roman came to stand next to his chair.

Roman smiled back, then kicked his leg out, knocking the chair out from under him. Everyone at the table burst out laughing as Roman stood over Grigori as he lay flat on his back in shock.

“Keep your goddamn boots off of my table,” Roman said, trying to keep as calm as possible, then he turned, making his way back to his seat while Grigori picked himself up off the floor, mumbling as he sat back down.

“You could have at least said please,” Grigori complained, reaching for another slice of pizza.

“Don’t push me, Grigori. This table is over 4,000 years old, so don’t fuck it up.” He gave Grigori a quick glare. “Anyway, I think we should consider at least questioning the girl before we have a vote on what to do with her. She might know something important that can help us. But right now, we need to focus on interrogating the demon we have locked down in the basement. Once we finish, Armaros can send it back where it belongs, along with the other piece of shit we still have sitting down there as well.”

Roman sat back and gulped down the last bit of whiskey in his glass. “I don’t know about you guys, but I’m exhausted. I’m going to bed. Maalik, Grigori, and Armaros, you three can help me interrogate the demon in the morning. Phoenix, you and Lucian can head down to the club in the morning and meet the driver. He has some deliveries for us, and not just the normal liquor delivery, either.” He rose from the table.

Roman slapped Maalik on the back as he walked out of the room. The other angels called out goodnight to him as he made his way over to the staircase. He hesitated, quickly glancing past the kitchen door to the hallway that led to the basement. He shook his head, forcing himself to continue up the stairs.

Don’t you dare, he told himself, struggling to get the image of Charlotte out of his head, but he didn’t think he was going to have any luck.

* * *

They were everywhere. No matter where Charlotte looked, evil, yellow eyes glowed back at her. The moon hung high in the sky as she stood in the middle of a city. Everything was in ruins, and all the buildings were on fire. The heat from the flames overwhelmed her as she wiped the sweat from her forehead, realizing there was not a single person to be seen.

Charlotte had been running for so long her legs ached and her chest burned as she gasped for breath. No matter how fast or far she’d run, she couldn’t escape the glowing yellow eyes. They were everywhere—down the dark alleys, under abandoned cars, looking at her from the crumbling rooftops of flaming buildings. She could have sworn she’d even seen them looking back at her through the flames that had overtaken the city.

Above her in the night sky, she could hear the beating sound of large wings as something or someone flew above her. It was too dark to tell if it was the giant tattooed man who often helped her escape or if it was some evil creature. She vaguely remembered seeing him in the real world, confused by the fact he was a real person and not a figment of her imagination.

I’ve got to get out of here. She panicked as the evil growls and laughter of the yellow-eyed creatures echoed all around her. Charlotte quickly scanned her surroundings for somewhere that looked like a safe place to hide or even an opening in the flames to make her way out of the burning city.

“Charlotte,” came a whispering voice through the air.

She froze in fear. That’s not my friend. A shiver ran down her spine.

Charlotte had heard this voice a thousand times before . Oh god, he’s found me, she thought, terrified. Not once had she ever seen the man or monster the voice belonged to, but somehow, she knew that if it found her, something unspeakable would happen.

She turned, running as fast as she could, trying to find somewhere, anywhere, she could hide. But the fire ahead of her moved, creating a wall in the distance, blocking off a clear path. She could have sworn there’d been movement in the flames. She started backing up, getting ready to take off in the other direction, when she saw it—a clear shadow of a man moving in the fire.

“This can’t be real,” she whispered, trying to remind herself that none of this was real. It was all a dream…

Then, a beautiful man stepped out of the fire, completely unharmed.

“H-h-how is this possible?” she said in disbelief.

Her mind was racing, the line between dreams and the waking world blurring. Things that shouldn’t be real were. Someone kidnapped and hurt her. There was a man with wings and glowing red eyes, and there were talks of demons and the devil. The violet-eyed man she’d thought was someone she’d conjured up in her dreams to help her had physically walked up to her in the real world. Charlotte couldn’t tell if she had finally gone insane or not.

The man walked toward her, a magnificent smile on his face, and her fear slowly disappeared as he got closer. His blond hair shone in the light of the flames, and he was close enough now she could see his intense, beautiful, ice-blue eyes as they looked her up and down. It was only then that she realized something was wrong. He was looking at her like she was his prey, and he couldn’t wait to get his hands on her.

Devil with the face of an angel. The thought suddenly popped into her mind.

“Hello, Charlotte,” he said, almost within arm’s reach now.

The minute he spoke, she took a step backward. It was the voice she had heard forever, the evil, terrifying voice that whispered to her.

“It’s y-y-you,” she stuttered, terrified.

“I have been searching for you for a long time, Charlotte. But now I have finally found you, and you will help set me free.” His voice chilled her to her very soul.

Charlotte turned, fleeing as fast as she could, sprinting around a corner and past a burning building. The horrifying sounds of the yellow-eyed monsters followed her. To take me to him, she thought, petrified, pumping her arms harder. One creature got close enough to slice the back of her right leg open with its claws, and she cried out in pain and stumbled before righting herself. But not fast enough. The creature grabbed her by the arm.

She screamed. Her arm felt like it was on fire. She ripped out of its grasp, falling to the ground. She gasped in pain, blood gushing out of the slashes the creature’s claws had sliced into her.

Charlotte dragged herself to her feet, trying to run, but her injured leg caused her to limp. She looked around for somewhere to hide as a creature leaped onto her back, knocking her down. She screamed, her head hitting the ground hard as the creature rolled off her.

Her vision blurred, her head pounding as she pushed herself onto her knees, watching the creature on all fours stalk toward her, eyes glowing that eerie yellow.

As its mouth widened, its long, razor-sharp fangs dripped with saliva. It was hideous. Four small horns jutted out from the top of its head. Patches of black fur covered its leathery skin, its spiked tail whipping back and forth as it walked forward with its long-clawed paws that clicked on the pavement. The screeching and growls from the other monsters came from all around her as yellow-eyed creatures started closing in on all sides.

There was nowhere to go, nowhere to run. These monsters were going to kill her, and there was nothing she could do about it.

Charlotte huddled in a ball, covering her ears with her hands, trying to block out the shrieks of the evil beings. Wishing they would disappear, she squeezed her eyes shut, trembling in fear as the hot breath of one monster hit the side of her face. Its breath reeked of rotten meat, making her want to vomit. She trembled uncontrollably, keeping her eyes clamped shut as the creature growled in her ear. She screamed, unable to stay still any longer.

There was a loud thump and warm liquid sprayed over her face. She opened her eyes to find the monster lying dead in a pool of black blood next to her, its head gone.

“It’s time to wake up, little one.” The giant tattooed man crouched in front of her. “You need to wake up now ,” he told her sternly, his violet eyes taking in her injuries.

Two monsters attacked from either side, knocking him down and savagely clawing and biting at him. Charlotte huddled in a ball once again, covering her ears, rocking back and forth, screaming for help. She willed it all to go away, the roar of the monsters growing louder. She could hear the man fighting the creatures. Slowly, their shrieks faded, her screaming the only thing she could hear.

* * *

Charlotte opened her eyes, her hands clamped over her ears. Tears streamed down her face as she screamed. Someone was gently shaking her.

“Charlotte, Charlotte, wake up. You’re safe, I’ve got you. You’re safe,” said a man’s deep voice.

Charlotte stopped screaming, her eyes focusing on his face. His warm hands were on her shoulders as striking crystal blue eyes full of worry stared down at her. Images of the monsters flashed back through her mind, panic hitting her again.

She sat up as fast as she could, slapping the man’s hands away as she scrambled backward, her back hitting a hard, icy wall of stone.

“Get away from me,” she cried, holding her arms out in front of her.

Where the hell am I? she thought, confused, her eyes darting around and taking in the small room. Her back was flat against what looked like an ancient stone wall. She was sitting on a small bed, the only light coming from what seemed to be a corridor outside the room. The musty, damp smell overwhelmed her. The cold air and the chill seeping into her back from the stone made her teeth chatter.

As her eyes came to rest on the man standing beside the bed, Charlotte slowly realized that it wasn’t a room she was in. The walls on either side of the room were the same stone as the wall at her back, but it was the front of the room that concerned her. Instead of a wall of stone, it appeared to be bars, black iron bars. The door, which was sitting open, was also made of the same two-inch-thick black iron bars.

Not a room, a cell. No, no, no, no, not again, she thought, not believing what her eyes were showing her.

“A cell?” she whispered, tears beginning to stream down her face, a feeling of helplessness washing over her. “Who are you?” she demanded, glaring at the man.

His face remained hidden in shadows. From where Charlotte sat, she couldn’t make out any of his features. He swallowed up the small cell with his towering height. The light filtering in from outside illuminated his messy blond hair and the outline of his bare, muscled arms and torso. His only clothing was a pair of unbuttoned black jeans. He didn’t even have on any shoes. If anything, he looked like he’d just rolled out of bed.

He slowly held up his hands. “Please, Charlotte, it’s okay. Don’t be afraid. You were having some kind of nightmare.”

“Don’t be afraid? I’m in a cell! Am I your prisoner?”

How the hell did I get here? The man stilled, staring at her silently, then straightened, taking a few steps toward her.

“Yes… yes, you are my prisoner… for now. But not for any reason you think. I’m keeping you here for your safety and until you tell us what you know. We saved you from those demons, and we healed you. As long as you’re here, they cannot find you.”

He is batshit crazy… Demons? What is he talking about?

Then Charlotte began to remember everything that had happened—coming home exhausted from the club, the men from the diner attacking her and Ava, waking up hanging from chains, beaten, wings and glowing eyes.

“Oh god, Ava.” She scrambled from the bed. “Is she okay? They hurt her.” Charlotte ran for the cell door, but the man wrapped his arms around her waist, stopping her and pulling her against his body.

The warmth of his bare, muscled chest against her back and his strong arms surrounding her seeped into her cold skin, making her still. Charlotte didn’t know why, but the warmth from this stranger’s body comforted her, her body reacting to him as if she’d known him forever.

“Who is Ava? Who hurt her?” he whispered into her ear, his breathing heavy.

“My friend. She lives with me, and when the men came, they attacked both of us. The last thing I remember is her being on the floor. She’d been knocked unconscious.”

Oh god, what if they took her, too? she thought, making her struggle against him.

“I need to get home. I have to see if she’s okay. You can’t just keep me here. I have rights!” Charlotte screamed, whipping her head back, her skull connecting with his nose.

The man let go, cursing as he stepped away from her, and she whirled around, ready to fend him off, but he just stood there, rubbing his nose and looking rather annoyed with her. His face was no longer hidden by the shadows. Her brow furrowed as she recognized him.

“You’re Roman, the guy from the club… from the other cell.” The memory of the kiss from the nightclub sent heat through her body. Then, an image of his glowing red eyes dashed any sensual thoughts she’d just had for him.

“Yes, I own that club. I also saved you from those demons. Like I told you, you must stay here. It’s for your own safety. The way you’re reacting to all of this and how reckless and intoxicated you were at the club last night makes me think you don’t realize what is going on and who’s looking for you.” He sighed, sounding exhausted as he brushed past her to walk out of the cell.

“Please… don’t leave me down here. After everything I’ve been through… I-I can’t stand to be left in another cell,” she pleaded, realizing her face didn’t hurt anymore.

Charlotte had been so overwhelmed by her nightmare and waking up in this strange place that it hadn’t even registered that her arms were no longer aching or that she could see out of her eye again, her face no longer bloodied and broken.

How is this possible? she wondered, checking her whole body over. “How am I not injured anymore?”

As she held out her arms, she found giant red slashes down her left forearm. She ran her fingers over them, feeling the raised, bumpy skin. They looked like half-healed scars, she thought, frowning down at it.

Roman walked over, gently taking her arm. The warmth as he ran his fingertips over the raised marks sent a shiver through her body in the most delicious way.

“What is this? How did you get these marks?” His handsome face looked troubled. “Do you have any other marks like this? Your previous injuries healed because Armaros healed you. You did not have this mark before when we brought you into this cell.” He started looking her up and down.

“I don’t understand,” Charlotte answered, trying to figure out how someone had healed her so fast. She should have been recovering from those injuries for weeks.

While looking at her arm, which appeared pale compared to his dark tan hands, she struggled to understand how it had ended up there, and then memories of her nightmare flooded back. She could almost smell the smoke and feel the heat of the fire that surrounded her as the creatures chased her. That’s it… it must be.

“My dream.” Once again, she raised her head and locked eyes with him, his intense blue gaze accompanied by a small frown.

Charlotte remembered the monster in her dream grabbing her arm and… My leg. She quickly pulled up the right leg of her bloodied sweatpants, finding the same slash marks running down her calf.

“Dream?” he quietly asked, letting go of her arm and kneeling so he could get a better look at the back of her leg.

The heat of his touch fading from her arm reminded her how cold it was in this damp, dark cell. She shivered, unsure if it was because of the cold or the fact that she had been attacked and kidnapped twice in the last twenty-four hours.

“The nightmare you woke me from. Fire surrounded me; it was so real I could feel the heat warming my skin,” she told Roman as he slowly stood, his eyes lingering on her marked arm. “The smoke was so thick it was suffocating me. Monsters surrounded me. They were chasing me, and one grabbed me by the arm and my leg, but it was just a bad dream… How can there be claw marks on me when it’s not real?” she asked him, hopeful he would have answers for her.

What about the big guy? Armaros? If it’s not real, how is it he’s in my dreams as well as in the real world? Charlotte had no answers about how Armaros was a real person. She hadn’t even known his name until Roman had spoken it back in the cell. She’d always just called him the big guy or her guardian angel. Everything was overwhelming her; the weight of all the things she had seen, learned, and gone through was exhausting.

Roman stood silent for a moment as if deciding what to say. “Charlotte, I don’t think it was a nightmare. I think you better come with me. I want to know every detail about this so-called dream you had.” He walked out of the cell and then stopped under the fluorescent light in the corridor.

She couldn’t help but be drawn to the giant tattoo of wings on his back. It flowed from the top of his shoulders down his back, disappearing under his jeans. She couldn’t take her eyes off it. The detail of each feather mesmerized her. It looked real. If she reached out and ran her fingers along it, she thought she might feel soft feathers underneath her touch.

He stopped, turning to face her, robbing her of the beautiful image.

Charlotte could finally get a good look at him as she hesitated at the cell door. His messy blond hair looked like he’d tossed and turned in bed, and his tanned body rippled with muscle. His six-pack led down to his unbuttoned black jeans, making her want to explore his body further.

“When was the last time you ate something?” he asked, his head tilting slightly to the side, slowly looking her up and down.

“I don’t know.” She frowned, hunger and thirst hitting her like a freight train.

She was exhausted, hungry, and dying of thirst. Gazing down at her filthy, bloodied clothes, she saw that her favorite Stranger Things sweater and pants were completely ruined. She’d kill for a shower, imagining how amazing it would feel to stand under the stream of hot water after everything that had happened.

“I could really do with some water. I’m so thirsty,” she answered, slowly stepping out of the cell.

He nodded, running his hand through his hair. “Well, let’s go sort that out, shall we? And, Charlotte, don’t even think of trying to run from me.” He stared at her, his face becoming hard. “You will only anger me, and that is something you do not want to see.” He turned, walking down the corridor.

Charlotte was cold, hungry, and thirsty as she sat at one of the most beautiful tables she’d ever seen. It was vast, round, and seemed to be made from stunning black marble. She could almost see her reflection in it as she gazed at the hypnotizing gold veins that weaved through the bottomless black like tiny little streams of water.

She grazed a finger against the nearest glittering vein, feeling the coldness of the marble seep into her already frozen skin, sending an involuntary shiver down her spine. She lazily traced the gold lines, trying not to think of everything that had happened to her.

Charlotte thought she was losing her mind. As Roman had led her down the long corridor, she walked past many cells just like the one she had awoken in. All were empty except for the first two cells that were at the foot of a staircase.

She’d recognized one of her kidnappers, the dark-haired creep from the diner, in one of the cells. She’d felt no remorse when she’d seen him beaten to a pulp as he lay groaning on the bed in his cell. The other prisoner had given her the creeps. It was the way he’d looked at her, grinning as he whispered in a low, frightening voice, “He’s coming for you.”

That had sent a shiver down her spine.

Charlotte shuddered at the memory of it, picturing the blond man from her dreams walking out of the fire. Now, here she sat, filthy from head to toe, clothes ruined, hair all over the place, in one of the most extravagant houses she’d ever seen. She let out a half-hysterical laugh.

What a sight I must be, she thought, wishing she could have a hot shower and change into some clean clothes.

“Water.”

Charlotte jumped as Roman placed a glass of water down in front of her.

“I meant it when I said I wouldn’t hurt you.”

Charlotte ignored him, snatching up the glass and gulping it down. She was so thirsty she couldn’t bring herself to care when the water ran down her chin, neck, and chest as she drank greedily, groaning in satisfaction as the coolness flowed down her throat.

Charlotte finally put down the empty glass, craving more, her thirst not yet quenched. “Can I please have another…” She turned her head, her words trailing off into a whisper as Roman stood gazing down at her.

He was breathing heavily, his eyes slowly following a drop of water. She could feel the coldness of the drop running down her neck. But it was his eyes that caught her attention, no longer crystal blue but slowly changing to a crimson red.

“A… a-are you alright?” she whispered, breathing heavily herself. She should have been terrified, but the muscled, messy-haired man before her with his glowing eyes had her body coming alive, desire flowing through it.

At this very moment, Charlotte didn’t think she’d ever been so attracted to anyone in her whole life. She wanted him, and she wanted him right now.