The Vengeance Season: The Covalent Series, #3

By Libby Doyle

To keep her safe, he will confront his evil father. To keep him strong, she will overcome horrors no human has ever faced.

 

After explosive events at the winter solstice, Zan is happy to sink back into her job with the FBI. She should have guessed her normal times wouldn't last. Barakiel loves her and Lucifer—his ruthless father—knows it. 

 

When Barakiel learns his father is searching for the means to navigate the cosmos, he fears Zan is in grave danger, not to mention the citizens of his homeworld. Lucifer could appear in the Earthly Realm at any moment. He could appear on the manicured terraces of Covalent City.

 

​The solution is clear. Barakiel and his allies must convince the Covalent leadership to march on the Destructive Realm. They must take the war to Lucifer's Keep.

 

"This action-packed, character-driven tale of love, horror, honor, and despair will keep you glued from the first page to the last." -- K.J. Simmill, author of the award-winning Forgotten Legacies Series   

 

WARNING: This book contains foul language, violence, explicit sex, and sexual violence. Adults only! The Vengeance Season is the third novel in a five-part series All other books in this romantic science fantasy are now available. The Covalent Series is complete!

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Libby Doyle
• Release date: Nov 27, 2018
• ISBN: 9780997298567

Libby Doyle

Libby Doyle escapes real life by writing extravagant tales, filled with adventure, sex, and violence. When not tapping away at her fiction, she's been known to work as an attorney and a journalist. Libby loves absurd humor, travel, punk rock, and her husband. She is the author of The Covalent Series, an epic science fantasy in five parts.

Book preview

Also by Libby Doyle

The Passion Season

The Pain Season

The Warlord Season

Nuzan

Learn more at libbydoyle.com.

All is not lost, the unconquerable will, and study of revenge, immortal hate, and the courage never to submit or yield.

— John Milton, Paradise Lost

COVALENT BOND

A bond in which one or more pairs of electrons are shared by two atoms to create a stable balance of attractive and repulsive forces.

COVALENT PRONUNCIATION GUIDE

Rainer (ry•ner) Barakiel (ba•rack•ē•el)

Pellus (pel•les)

Ravellen (ra•vel•en)

Abraxos (ah•brax•sōs)

Remiel (rem•ē•el)

Osmadiel (oz•mod•ē•el)

Camael (kam•ā•el)

Galizur (gal•ih•zer)

Tariel (tahr•ē•el)

Yahoel (yah•hō•el)

PROLOGUE

SHE TRUSTS ME. I know she does, yet she will not let me protect her. I must accept it. Let her do her job.

So here I sit, while she is off impersonating a criminal. I should be glad she told me anything at all about her operation. It is against the rules. She must have regretted it, after my frantic pleas to let me watch over her.

I see the same helplessness in her eyes when I leave for battle in the Turning. She wants to protect me as much as I want to protect her. My courageous Zan.

My need to keep her safe rages through my limbs, mingles with my ever-expanding love. I will dwell in this Balance. To surrender makes me more than I have ever been.

CROSS QUARTER WINTER

CHAPTER 1

THE OLD POWER PLANT loomed massive against the night sky. Piles of broken concrete and chunks of twisted metal littered its grounds beside the Delaware River, which flowed cold and black in the dim ambient light. Water pushed through a narrow channel beneath a thick iron chute that had once trundled coal into the bowels of the plant. Fifty years before, barges had traveled there to disgorge their loads. At its peak, the plant had produced 600 megawatts of electricity daily for the city of Philadelphia. Zan could imagine its noxious fumes. Still, she wished she had seen it, the coal hissing and burning yellow-orange to create steam to power giant turbines, the whole building operating as a single machine.

What did Rainer say to me about humans that time? So physically weak, so strong in their industry.

She and her FBI partner, Melissa Mel Romani, had chosen this abandoned place to meet with the targets of their investigation, a crew thought to be neck-deep in the illegal handgun trade.

Detective Jamal Williams, their colleague from the Philadelphia Police Department, had come through for them again.

Got a juicy one for you this time, O’Gara, he’d said. Arrested a couple dudes moving some serious weight. Heroin. Found the usual cache of illegal weapons in their house. As soon as we applied pressure they got helpful. Told us the source of the firearms.

Unfortunately, Zan and Mel had failed to gather enough evidence by conventional means to get an arrest warrant, so here they were, undercover. They waited in a dirt lot behind the plant with a bag full of money. If all went well, the targets would sell them the guns and leave. Other agents waited on the street to pick them up.

Mel poked around by the river. She wanted to make sure there were no bad guys lurking in the spindly bushes and weed trees. The other agents were at least a half mile away on the other side of the plant. This was risky, but neither Mel nor Zan wanted their colleagues to spook these people off the sale. They’d put too much time and effort into the case. They were wired for sound and it would have to do.

Thank Christ she hadn’t told Rainer any of this, the way he worried. But she couldn’t resist telling him something, especially when the site of the sting was only a mile or so downriver from their house.

Did you know we have the perfect spot to perform dark criminal deeds right next door in Port Richmond? she’d asked. Rainer knew the old power plant. He’d peppered her with questions about the operation. She wasn’t supposed to talk about it but she answered a few anyway. She’d told him she viewed him as an exception because he was an alien. Made him laugh.

All right, O’Gara, it’s almost witching hour. Stop thinking about how beautiful he is when he laughs.

A little past midnight, Zan heard the crunch of gravel. A large black SUV with tinted windows rumbled over the uneven lot. It parked beside their white panel van. A man and a woman got out, the two they expected. So far so good.

Zan displayed a nylon bag. Let’s do our business so we can get the hell out of here, she said.

All right, ladies, said the man, his tone as fake as plastic. He gestured to his companion, a tall blonde woman wearing a pair of enormous furry boots. She opened the back hatch of the SUV.

We’ve got the guns right here, she said, although she stood in their line of sight.

Place the product in our van, Mel said, opening its rear doors. Then we’ll give you the money. She took a few steps back, no doubt trying to get an angle on the interior of their vehicle.

Plastic man smirked at furry-boots. They moved as if to comply, but turned around with guns in their hands. A big man in a leather jacket got out of the SUV. He carried an assault rifle.

Don’t pretend you’re unarmed, plastic man said. Put your guns on the ground and throw the money here.

The agents did as he asked. Zan kept an eye on the driveway.

I’ll enjoy seeing their faces when our colleagues swarm in.

Let me frisk them, plastic man said. Don’t take your eyes off them.

He went to Zan and shoved his hands between her legs and along her ass. He unzipped her jacket and roughly groped her breasts, breathing heavy. He found the Bluetooth microphone that allowed her FBI colleagues to hear everything.

Fuck me.

What is it? Furry-boots took a step toward them, her gun trained on Zan.

Plastic man pulled out the mic, switched it off and held it up. He stomped over to Mel, yanked out her mic, turned it off and snatched her billfold from her inside pocket. He flipped it open and groaned.

They’re feds! We’re fucked! We’re fucked seven ways from Sunday!

We’ve got to get out of here now, furry-boots said. Like, fifty of them will rush in at any moment. Her eyes darted around the grounds. Throw them in the van. It’ll be easier to tie them up.

What about the guns? leather-jacket asked.

Leave them. No time. Furry-boots motioned with her gun towards a rutted dirt track that curved from the far side of the power plant to the river then turned south along its bank. We’ll crash through that fence into the old quarry. If we get cornered, we’ll use these bitches as bargaining chips.

As furry-boots spoke, Zan slipped her hand into her outside pocket, which plastic man had overlooked in his panic. With a few thumb presses, she sent a blank message to the last person she’d texted. Rainer.

Get your hand out of your fucking pocket! plastic man screeched, as the first blast of a siren cracked the air. He and leather-jacket rushed to Zan, grabbed the van keys and her phone, bound her hands with a zip tie and threw her in the van. They frisked and bound Mel, tossed her beside Zan, then chucked the agents’ phones in the bushes. A few seconds later, the van was bouncing down the muddy track. Furry-boots drove. Leather-jacket bound Mel and Zan’s ankles as plastic man kept a handgun on them from the passenger seat.

The wail of sirens told Zan their FBI colleagues were on the way, but the van had already sped beyond a giant pile of gravel in the quarry to angle towards the street. She hoped the other agents would be able to tell which way they’d gone.

Zan also prayed they’d reach the van before Rainer. She cursed the fear that had made her send that text.

Like that’s not asking for all kinds of trouble.

CHAPTER 2

BARAKIEL LISTENED to Sawtooth—Zan’s band—as he pounded the heavy bag in his training room, a small building done up like a Japanese dojo that sat in their compound about 20 yards away from the main house. He found the sound of his mate howling over distorted guitars and a thumping bass drum oddly soothing.

A woman who sounds that ferocious must be able to take care of herself.

When he paused to wipe the sweat from his brow he heard the low buzz of his phone, which lay on the tatami mat by the wall. His heart nearly jumped out of his chest, convinced it was Mel calling to tell him that Zan had been shot. The reality perplexed him. A blank text. He blinked a few times, telling himself Zan had probably sent it accidentally.

As if I would ever operate on that assumption.

No, he would assume his mate was in dire peril. He yanked on his jeans, not bothering with a shirt. He slapped on his boots and went barreling down the river’s edge to the old power plant, roughly a mile away. If the text had been an accident, he would simply observe. If Zan was in danger he would protect her.

Thirty seconds later, he gaped at a crate in the open back hatch of an SUV behind the shuttered plant. Sirens wailed as vehicles sped to his location. He concealed himself and ran to the river, feeling the water like an ally beside him. He examined the scene, looking for clues as to Zan’s whereabouts. A gap in the sirens’ plaintive cries let him hear a van lurching through the rutted quarry to his left. He took off.

In a pulse, Barakiel closed the distance to the vehicle. Convinced Zan was inside, bloodlust surged from his groin to his chest, a caustic pain he wished he could ease by snapping the necks of the fools who had endangered his mate. He fought to get a handle on his savage energy. He didn’t want to create problems for Zan or lose Balance, which would surely happen if he killed them.

He considered his options. Frenetic activity might cause his crude concealment technique to fail. He wished his brilliant friend Pellus was there to hide him under a curtain a refracted light, but at least he could rely on his speed. All the humans would see was a blur.

Beneath a half moon, the scene stood out in vibrant relief. The nasal whines of several FBI vehicles layered the air but they had yet to appear from behind a giant pile of gravel. Barakiel needed to safeguard Zan and Mel and disappear before a crowd of agents descended on the spot.

For a splinter of a second, he paused to feel the thick ribbon of the river inside him, the weight of a hundred tons of water moving with quiet force. He gathered that power in his bones, hurtled toward the van and gripped its rear, beneath the bumper. It stopped dead, the smell of burning oil and hot metal hanging in the air.

Barakiel held the vehicle in place as the driver gunned the engine, elevating it just enough for the spinning back wheels to dig a deep groove in the muddy track. By the time he let it fall, the van was stuck. He made sure he was still concealed as the criminals’ shouts and curses sounded from inside. He ripped the back door open, snatched the leather-clad man he found there, knocked him out with a quick blow to the base of his skull and tossed him into the mud.

Zan and Mel wriggled and groaned on the floor of the van but he had no time to unbind them. The man in the passenger seat held a gun. Fortunately, he seemed utterly confounded by the stuck van and his fellow criminal’s disappearance from the back, as did the woman in the driver’s seat.

In a blink, Barakiel smashed the passenger side window. He placed one enormous hand on the man’s head and slammed it into the door frame. The man lost consciousness and dropped his gun.

By this time, Zan realized what was happening. Still bound, she struggled to her knees. She launched herself at the driver’s seat as the woman there reached for her gun. The interference gave Barakiel ample time to round the front of the van and subject the female criminal to the same head-slam he’d given the male. She slumped over the steering wheel. Blood trickled from her forehead.

Zan tried to get hold of the loose gun with her bound hands. Barakiel made sure the van stood between him and the approaching FBI, then dropped his concealment. He reached in through the window to snap the zip tie. He ran his thumb along Zan’s wrist. My love.

Rainer, she said. I knew you’d come.

What the fuck is happening? Mel shouted.

I sent Rainer a blank text. Remember, when this piece of shit screamed at me to get my hand out of my pocket? She gestured to the unconscious man before she grabbed Mel’s wrists and held them up so Barakiel could break the plastic binding.

What? How? Mel stared at her hands in amazement. Barakiel opened the van door and leaned in.

Hello, Mel.

She gawked for a second, then snorted. Do all your damsel rescuing shirtless, do you?

Huh. He looked down at himself. I was working out.

You know, he works out naked, Zan said. She craned her neck to get a glimpse of the FBI cavalry, which approached in a hail of siren song and flashing lights. You’re lucky he put on pants.

Hey, I’m not complaining, Mel said. I wouldn’t complain if he showed up naked, either.

Zan guffawed, then covered her mouth with the back of her hand. Sorry. Shouldn’t be laughing.

Eh, I started it, Mel muttered. But you’re right. This is a fucking disaster. She hugged herself. Uh, thanks, Rainer. Of course, thanks, but you need to get the hell out of here.

All right, but let me unbind your ankles.

I have a better idea, Zan said. Give us something so we can cut the ankle ties ourselves. A piece of metal. I’ll say I found it on the floor of the van.

Barakiel twisted a shard of metal from beneath the front bumper and flipped it to Zan. He grinned.

Good, good, Mel said. Now get lost, you alien son of a bitch.

Dawn had nearly arrived. Barakiel grew tired of pacing the home he shared with Zan. He went outside to walk along the line of bare black alders lining the wall of their compound so he could watch the brightening sky.

With criminals to process, Zan had been gone for hours. Still, Barakiel craved her touch, as if she had just flashed her deep blue eyes at him a moment ago. Resentment of her duty crawled through his nerves like ants.

She would be indignant if she knew. I leave for days to fight in the Turning.

By the time he reached the river the feral cats had come from the underbrush to greet him. He scratched their heads and sat with them to watch the cold water flow south, taking a lesson from their placidity. When he heard the approach of Zan’s car, he shot back inside to change and wash up.

Hmmm. Now that I think about it, Zan indignant is a magnificent sight.

When she came through the door, Rainer snarled at her. You kept me waiting.

Zan suppressed a smile. He could sense her body’s surge of blood and heat.

I had work to do, she said.

You shouldn’t have kept me waiting. He dropped his robe and took a step toward her. I have been in this state for hours.

She looked him over, ruffling her lips. That’s not my fault.

Yes, it is. He rushed her and slammed her against the door. He grabbed her hair and yanked her head back, pressing his length against her. This time it was Zan’s turn to snarl.

Bite me, she said, though she couldn’t keep the laughter from her voice.

Barakiel smirked and decided to take her literally, sinking his teeth into her neck hard enough to hurt, but not to break the skin.

Ow!

Take care of me. His urgent whisper had the desired effect. Her body answered. He licked the spot he’d bitten then claimed her mouth, pushing her harder against the door. Zan pushed back. She stroked him, causing an explosive growl. Barakiel swung her around in his arms. He walked to the massive kitchen table, threw her down, took off her pants and fell between her legs. He inhaled deeply then gave her a single lick. She shuddered. He buried his face in her until she whimpered.

Rainer. Now, now, oh, honey—

Her murmurs were cut short by a gasp as he surged into her, his hands on her hips, plunging hard. She wrapped her legs around him and they grooved in time, her cries filling his head with an ecstatic vibration. He caressed her sweat-streaked face, reveled in the way her eyes fluttered with pleasure. Her deep-pink lips parted slightly and glistened, so inviting that he groaned with the need to kiss her as they fucked. He flipped and sat on the table himself, with Zan on top of him. He found her mouth and hummed as she received him, as she spoke to him without words. They rocked, powerfully, slowly, with sighs and searching hands until Zan dissolved in pleasure. Barakiel pulled his hips back and came like a slingshot, eager to go as deep as he could at the peak of his love, to spread through her from her center. He drew her close and spoke softly in her ear.

Each time I love you I get stronger.

I will attest to that, she said, her breath silky against his neck. Sometimes I wonder if I can handle it, but I love it when you get that crazed look in your eye.

I’m surprised you never tell me I’m too rough.

You’re just rough enough. And then so gentle you melt my heart.

He shifted her weight and slid his hands up her back before sinking them deep in her thick black hair. He nuzzled her neck and purred, a sound he knew would put her in a sensual trance.

Mmmmm, let me melt your heart now, my love.

CHAPTER 3

MEL AND ZAN DROVE down Richmond Street in separate cars. They were on their way to ask Rainer a question that neither of them wanted to ask. Zan wondered if her friend was rehearsing what she would say.

They pulled through the wide gateway into the compound. As they parked and got out, Rainer came out of the house in jeans and a tight black T-shirt. For a second, Zan forgot about Mel and the serious business in front of them. She dwelled on the grooves and planes of Rainer’s muscles and the love that lit his eyes.

So blue, like the sapphire Stream that shines above his homeworld.

The two women laughed and joked as they approached the house, a large rectangular structure of glass and mismatched wood that ran almost all the way to the river. Zan worried their antics were a little too loud. A little forced.

Mel, Rainer said. To what do I owe the pleasure?

I haven’t seen you since your spectacular FBI debut. She held up a bottle of single malt scotch. To show you my gratitude, I brought a present. Zan says you love this stuff.

I do, I do, thank you. He held open the front door so they could enter. He closed it behind them and snatched Zan into an embrace. How was your day, my love?

Aside from Nguyen eyeballing me like I’m a practitioner of black magic, it was fine, she said.

James Nguyen was their boss. Stunned that she and Mel had been able to single-handedly neutralize the gun traffickers who had tried to abduct them, he demanded an explanation. The two agents offered their unlikely tale. The rutted terrain of the quarry was too much for the van. It got stuck in the mud. Zan found a piece of metal that she used to cut her hands free. Mel threw herself against the seat to distract the driver while Zan wrestled a gun away from one of the men, then kicked the other one out of the van through the back doors before he could get his hands on his assault rifle.

While they spoke, Nguyen had never stopped scowling.

He didn’t believe us. Not for a second.

On the night of the arrests, she and Mel had barely managed to head off plastic man’s chatter about getting knocked out by someone he never heard or saw. They were lucky the others had chosen silence. Zan knew the whole affair reminded Nguyen of her mysterious confidential informants. Four months before, these informants had helped the FBI disrupt a black-market organization engaged in the trafficking of young women and snuff porn. Of course, the informants were Rainer and his close friend Pellus, a type of Covalent known as a traveler adept, able to manipulate the properties of matter and energy.

We haven’t seen Pellus in so long. I never thought I’d miss him like this.

At the winter solstice, he’d helped Zan and Mel save Rainer from the demons, performing what seemed like magic – altering the phases of matter from gas to solid and directing electromagnetic waves at his will. He’d assured her it wasn’t magic, but science with a touch of art.

For all I know, Pellus could singlehandedly disrupt the world order.

Nguyen didn’t know she’d been cavorting with aliens, but he had sharp instincts. He knew Zan wasn’t telling him the truth.

While her boss couldn’t argue with her results, it didn’t help that she’d come back from the Covalent Realm physically renewed beyond the bounds of what should have possible. She’d sustained serious injuries while saving Rainer from the demons at the solstice. Her boss didn’t buy her explanation of an experimental treatment at a German spa.

Of course, she’d been fixed by the Sylvan Three, the Covalent Realm’s most powerful healers. Even though Zan continued to wear her shoulder brace and pretended to be in pain during her physical therapy, she glowed with robust health. Every once in a while she would catch Mel staring at her.

It’s amazing, her friend would say, you seem bigger.

Once, Zan asked Mel if they should let Nguyen in on the secret. Tell him about the Covalent.

Are you fucking nuts? Mel had asked. He would have a responsibility to tell the director. You in the mood to change the world?

She’s right. It was a stupid idea. As if Rainer would go for it, let alone Pellus. What we’re about to ask is bad enough.

Yeah. Zan masked her disquiet with an exaggerated frown as she hung up her jacket and took Mel’s. Let’s hope we never need your help again, honey.

Mel nodded. It’s a shame, considering the end result. If only Nguyen wasn’t so damn perceptive. With Rainer’s help, we could round up soooo many scumbags.

You’re a superstar star, my love, Rainer said. Nguyen should let you practice your dark arts.

What about Mel? She’s a superstar, too.

Yes, she is. What say you, superstar? He turned to Mel with a gleaming smile that no human on Earth could resist. Shall we crack this bottle? Given that my love has sworn off the stuff, it’s nice to have a friend with whom to share.

Mel fanned herself. I swear, Rainer, you can make a woman forget she’s standing on the ground.

Don’t you wonder how I keep my head in the game? Zan asked.

Rainer got drinks. Soon, they were relaxing on the couch listening to the crackle of burning wood in the huge concrete fireplace. Zan and Mel stared at the flames and occasionally at each other.

All right, Rainer said. What in all the realms is going on between you two?

Mel had another reason to come here tonight besides thanking you.

Enlighten me.

I want to tell Emmett, Mel blurted. You know, what you are. I, uh, it’s hard for me to deal with this. I’ve been having trouble sleeping. It will help if I can talk to him about it.

Leaning forward, Rainer glared at her. She stayed admirably still but Zan could see the tense set of her jaw. Rainer burst out laughing.

Mel, I’m teasing you. I assumed you’d already told Emmett. He’s your mate. There are no secrets between mates.

Zan gave him a dirty look. Glad to see you’ve learned that lesson.

You taught me. He squeezed Zan’s knee and she could not maintain her scowl.

Mel gulped her scotch, which made her grimace. Thanks for being willing, Rainer, but I have another set of worries. We need to decide how we’re going to tell him. I can’t tell him on my own. He’ll think the pressure has gotten to me.

How does one tell an unsuspecting English professor that his friend is a superhuman warrior from another dimension? Rainer said. Zan squinted at him.

He’s going to enjoy this. Until Pellus finds out.

We have to come here and have you, you know, do something, Mel said.

Like what? Cook him dinner? I make a passable risotto.

Maybe you could juggle chainsaws, Zan said.

Stop it! You’re not taking this seriously. Zan saw demons. I saw demons. Evidence right in our faces in a big, scary way. Emmett won’t have that. He won’t believe us unless you disappear like you can do. Or pick up a car or something.

Sorry, Mel. You’re right, Zan said. We’ll plan a convincing demonstration. And Rainer will be ready for questions, lots of questions, won’t you, honey?

I’ll do my best. He drew her hand to his lips.

So, Mel said. When should we do this?

Can you come to dinner on Thursday evening? Rainer asked. I leave for my tour of duty on Friday morning.

I don’t see why not, Mel stared into her now empty tumbler. Leave for your tour of duty, she mumbled. To fight the demons, right? In your dimension?

Demons and the Corrupted, former Covalent warriors who have been enslaved by my father. Far more formidable than demons.

My god, Zan, Mel said. How can you stand it?

I try not to think about it, like everyone whose partner is a soldier. Haven’t had much success, to be honest.

Rainer rose. He took Mel’s glass and went to pour more scotch. Would you like another virgin cocktail, my love?

Yes, thanks, honey. Zan watched him retrieve a slice of lemon from the refrigerator. She knew he hated to worry her, but fighting was his purpose, one he was compelled to fulfill.

Mel shifted uncomfortably in her seat as Rainer handed her a glass. Sorry to bring that up, she said.  Let’s talk about something happy. The gun runners. She raised her scotch. Here’s to you, Rainer. You thumped ‘em good.

I am a Covalent warrior, Mel. Humans pose no threat to me. Not individual humans. This is why Balance demands I never kill them. Balance is the principle by which the Covalent live. Within its dictates, humans are not worthy adversaries.

I’m glad you think so highly of us.

Rainer raised his eyebrows.

She’s teasing you, Zan said.

What about guns? Mel asked. Could a bullet kill you?

I suppose so, if it found its way into my brain. But I have dense bone matter. It’s not clear a bullet could penetrate my thick skull. Rainer rapped on his head. The bullet would have to enter through my eye. This would take extremely good aim. Or luck.

Like that demon at the winter solstice, Zan said. One bullet among the hundreds I sprayed went through its eye and killed it.

My heart seizes when I think of what could have happened to you. Rainer took her hand.

I’d do it again. Anything for you, honey, Zan said. His touch made her nerve endings swirl like high grass in the wind.

What about that, Rainer? Would a barrage of bullets kill you? Soldiers all firing in a line?

He looked at her sharply. Why are you so interested in the ways I might be killed?

I’m sorry. Mel lowered her eyes. I haven’t gotten over my anxiety about all this craziness. I guess I’m afraid not all Covalent warriors are as good and honorable as you.

No, not all. Rainer glanced at Zan. But in answer to your query, if I stood there and let them pump me full of bullets, I would bleed to death. I can generate my own blood from the energy in my surroundings but it takes time. If I lose blood too rapidly from too many spots, I will die. Of course, I wouldn’t let them. As you witnessed, I can move so quickly they would barely see me. He looked into the fire. Hmmm, let me see. Strafing me with bombs. That might work if they caught me by surprise.

What about your heart? Mel went on. What if a bullet went right into your heart? You have one, don’t you?

Yes. He narrowed his eyes, but Zan could tell he wanted to smile. I have a heart much stronger than yours. If a bullet lodged there, it would keep beating. Bullets are small and delivered with little force relative to what we usually face. Our systems are resilient.

Jesus Christ. All we can do is rely on your benevolence. Mel stared into the fire. Zan knew how she felt.

As individuals, I would say that is true. But collectively? The Covalent fear humans. We fear your science, your weapons of mass destruction. You outnumber us.

How many Covalent are there?

Twenty-five million, give or take.

Twenty-five million beings like you could destroy our planet. Especially if we didn’t know you were coming.

Rainer laughed. We have no desire to destroy your planet, Mel.

Zan snuck him a look. They had told Mel in vague terms about Rainer’s father and the war in the Covalent Realm, but they had not revealed his name.

No way we tell her anything else about Lucifer.

What about the demons? Mel asked.

The demons would rip humans to shreds for the fun of it, Zan said. But you’ve seen them. We can handle them. They’re stupid.

"Maybe you can handle them, Mel said, wagging her finger. I’m not so sure about me."

You did before.

Mel took a sip of her scotch. Pellus was there. He has a way a making a person feel safe.

So does Rainer.

You can be assured I am sworn to your well-being.

You made him swear? Mel looked askance at Zan.

I didn’t have to. You’d fight to protect anyone I love, wouldn’t you, honey?

Of course.

My own personal superhuman warrior. Not too shabby. Mel got up and kissed Rainer on the cheek, then walked around the elegant space looking at the artwork and antiques.

You saved Lucy that time when we were camping and the tree limb fell. She lingered in front of a jade dragon on a dark-wood settee near the window. It glowed under the recessed lighting. Although now that I think about it, it wasn’t all that impressive, considering what you are.

Rainer’s laugh reverberated through the furniture. No! It was not! And you all made such a fuss over me. I was embarrassed.

Mel returned to the couch. "You know what was impressive. The way you leaned down and spoke to Lucy afterward. So gentle and reassuring with her. I remember the look on her face. If Emmett hadn’t grabbed her she would have jumped into your arms."

That Lucy is no fool, Zan said.

Neither am I, Mel said. I might get skittish, Rainer, but I trust you. And if I trust you, Emmett will trust you. You don’t have anything to worry about. Your identity will stay secret.

CHAPTER 4

THE HIGHWAY WAS JAMMED. Tail lights grew bright, faded then grew bright with each pump of the brakes as hundreds of drivers inched their way north on Interstate 95. Mel glared at the concrete barriers that narrowed four lanes to three, causing the mess.

Last thing I needed. I’m already wound too tight.

I told you not to take 95, Emmett said.

It’s 7:00. I thought rush hour would be over.

Rush hour never ends on this road. Straight up Fifth would have taken forever too, but at least there’s interesting stuff to look at.

Yeah. Mel cursed under her breath as traffic came to a standstill. "Ugh, turn it off. That song is giving me agita."

Emmett pushed a button and classical music wafted from the speakers. What’s going on, Mel? I’ve never seen traffic get to you like this.

She glanced at him. I have a lot on my mind.

I know Nguyen has been giving you a hard time. Let me know if I can help. I can pick Lucy up from school all next week if you want.

You’re a fabulous husband, do you know that?

I enjoy basking in your reflected glory.

Traffic started moving again, but so slowly Mel hardly had to keep her eyes on the road. She peeked at Emmett. His glossy Chestnut hair was flattened on one side. He must have been leaning on his hand to read. Mel called it his book head. He looked at her over his horn-rimmed glasses.

What?

Nothing. I’m nervous about dinner I guess.

Why would you be nervous? I’m the odd man out. You, Zan and Rainer all seem like you’re in some sort of secret club. And Rainer has a way of making a guy feel inadequate.

Oh no. That’s not a good starting point

What are you talking about? Rainer likes you.

I like him, too. But you have to be more macho than I am to not feel invisible next to a gigantic, muscular blond with a face that makes women lose their breath. I’d handle it better if he wasn’t also funny and charming.

Welcome to my world, Emmett. You think it’s easy walking around town next to Zan?

You may not be a badass guitar-playing Amazon, but that Amazon respects you.

Yes, she does. Thanks for reminding me.

Emmett leaned towards her and the cars’ angry honking receded. If the world were to fall apart, Mel, we’d all be looking for you. I would fall apart if I couldn’t look in those warm brown eyes, like sunlight through fine brandy.

Mel sighed. I knew there was a reason I married a poet. They kissed until a sustained horn blast right behind them signaled that traffic had begun to move. When they reached the exit, Mel took the curve a little too fast, happy to be liberated.

Slow down. You’re driving like Rainer.

He’s a lunatic on the road, isn’t he?

I can’t believe Zan rides with him on that motorcycle. Really, I’m amazed people like that exist.

Mel snorted and gripped the steering wheel harder.

Oh, you’re going to be amazed all right, my poor baby.

They reached the compound and got their offerings out of the back seat: a bottle of Bordeaux and Mel’s vegetarian stew. Rainer couldn’t get enough of it. As they approached the front door they heard music. Her two impossibly gorgeous friends were making impossibly great music together.

Emmett is right. It’s hard to believe they exist.

The music stopped when they rang the bell. Rainer opened the door. They said their hellos as Rainer took the offerings.

Lucy at your mom’s in Jersey? Zan asked.

She is. She was just about to stuff her face with grandma’s macaroni and cheese with hot dog bits, her favorite, Mel said. Sorry to interrupt the music.

Just passing the time, Zan replied. Have a seat. I’ll put this stuff away and Rainer will get you drinks. She gestured to the guitar and violin.

Why don’t you leave them out? Emmett asked. You can play for us after dinner.

I’ll just stick them in their cases. She glanced at Mel, who knew what she was thinking.

We have different after-dinner entertainment planned for this evening.

Mel chewed her lip. Rainer handed her a glass of wine. During dinner, she hardly said a word. When the fruit tarts came out for dessert, Mel ate slowly, savoring, trying not to think about the reason behind the dinner. She asked Rainer for something stronger than wine. She sipped her single malt and watched her friends clean up. Her jangly feeling would not go away.

I hope Emmett doesn’t have trouble sleeping after this like I did. Like I still do.

When Zan handed Rainer the last pot to be placed in the dishwasher, he closed it and turned to Mel and Emmett, who were still sitting around the dark wood museum piece that passed for a kitchen table.

Maybe he should lift this thing up. It looks like it literally weighs a ton. 

All done, Rainer said, drying his hands on a towel. And now I have an odd request. Come with me to the garage. I have something to show you.

They headed outside. Halfway across the yard Rainer stopped, rubbed his forearm and took a deep breath.

Emmett, there are things you don’t know about me. Shocking things. Mel knows. She asked us to explain. He put his arm around Zan’s shoulders and squeezed. I’m different. Allow me to demonstrate.

With that, he snatched Zan and threw her up into the cold night air, fifty feet at least. Mel shrieked before she could stop herself.

Jesus Christ! Emmett exclaimed. He stared with his mouth open as Rainer caught Zan, spun around gracefully and set her on the ground. The lovers beamed at each other.

Whew! That was fun, honey. Now I’ll be like a little kid bugging you to do it over and over.

What the hell was that? Emmett demanded. How in god’s name did you do that? He peered into the sky over their heads.

Perhaps it would be best if you explained, Mel, Rainer said. This news should come from a trusted voice.

Rainer is an alien, Emmett. You know, from outer space. He screwed his face up at her like she was speaking gibberish. It’s true. He’s an alien from another dimension, part of a race of ancient beings known as the Covalent. He’s superhuman. He can even disappear. Show him, Rainer.

In an instant, Rainer vanished. Emmett looked around the yard. He looked up,