Fate's Promise: Daughters of Saria, #4

By Elysabeth Grace

In one year, Analise Saria Willoughby discovers she is Fate; the angel Lucifer is her life mate; and, she is the only one who can bring a supernatural civil war to an end. Despite her reluctance to accept who she is and the powers she controls, Analise and Lucifer enjoy a year of mated bliss – until an injured shifter falls from the sky. 
To unravel the mysterious shifter's past, Analise must unlock the woman's memories. What she uncovers is Fate's promise to a dead archangel – a promise that threatens to tear her and Lucifer's love apart even if it can save the life of his twin brother, Satan. 
If she is to keep Fate's promise, Analise must choose between her heart and her compassion. However, in the deadly war that promises the extinction of supernaturals and humans, there may not be room for both.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Elysabeth Grace
• Release date: Jul 26, 2021
• ISBN: 9781733356350

Elysabeth Grace

Elysabeth Grace (pen name) writes paranormal, contemporary, and historical romances where love and HEAs accept no impediments. Her stories and characters are diverse, sensual, and occasionally wicked. A native Californian and Professor emerita of English literature, Elysabeth currently resides in Nevada where she remains an unrepentant commentator on Shakespeare and other things.

Book preview

1

Humidity sat heavy in the air as Satan stepped from the black SUV and stretched to ease the tension from his body. His blue eyes took in the area before his right hand smoothed down the silken fabric of his dark gray jacket. He really hated coming to North Carolina, especially between May and September, and it wasn’t because of the nasty little bugs that seemed attracted to the place where he’d built his lab. Although, he told himself, as he brushed the air around him, they were an annoyance. Gnats. If he actually cared about Earth, he’d rid it of these poorly designed insects. Several flew at his shoulder-length hair, and he brushed his fingers across the strands. Fuck.

He hated this place. Wanted to return to New York and the smells of urban life. Frustration curled in his gut. His hair was unmanageable, his skin felt clammy, and, glancing at his jeans, his clothes looked as if he’d slept in them overnight. None of this outweighed the irritation that his trips to the state always seemed to coincide with some disastrous setback to his plans. Just once, he’d like to show up to, Eureka! We did it, and here is your human time bomb, Sire.

Wishful thinking. This visit definitely wasn’t even close. Satan’s mood darkened. Nearly a million dollars in research money up in smoke, and to make it especially shitty, he had to kick a favorite partner out of his bed to travel five hundred miles to deal with the fuckup. This should not be happening. Uriel had finally gotten his hands on what appeared to be a witch-bred supernatural. The woman was the right age to breed, her DNA was a gold mine, and apparently, she was smart as well. A perfect combination. The scientists had already begun harvesting her eggs. So, what the hell went wrong?

Afternoon sunlight trickled through a thick phalanx of oak trees to brighten the reddish-brown wooden facade of the main brick building. Beyond the entrance to the main part of the lab sat several smaller buildings, all sharing the same color and windowless style. These buildings housed the angels and their human counterparts, who provided around-the-clock protection for the lab personnel and their research. Winged shadows flickered on the walls, creating a chiaroscuro effect that was irritating given Uriel’s message. Satan lifted his sunglasses and peered at the sentry of angels who ringed the main building, swords drawn and alert to danger. As he walked away from the SUV, the sound of wings snapping crisply into place greeted him. Satan’s menacing gaze slowly raked the eight angels who lined the path to the building. He smiled inwardly at the nervousness shearing off the guards, leaving the scent of their fear in the air. Pheromones were a definite hazard on occasion and, depending on what he discovered inside, an indicator the angels were right to worry about their heads.

He acknowledged them before he strode into the building where Uriel waited just inside the door. One of the things that most impressed him about Uriel was the archangel’s uncanny ability to remain unflappable no matter the circumstances. Nothing about Uriel’s demeanor indicated a time bomb had been lit. The archangel’s gray eyes were clear as polished silver, and the faint smile on his lips was deceptive as fuck even though Uriel was pissed. With a self-deprecating chuckle, Satan admitted that his own rages left him more of an open book and ready to separate the offending creature’s head from their body.

Coitus interruptus is not a pleasant physical state to be in, Uriel, he drawled. Whatever happened better be worth the suffering.

Uriel’s smile broke, and he grinned at his Sire. I’m pleased you gave my message such priority. So unlike you.

Fuck you, Uriel.

Any time, Sire. Any time.

His voice lowered to avoid prying human ears, Uriel gave him a quick overview of the situation. It was worse than Satan imagined. The witch-born woman was actually a shifter, and her DNA suggested perhaps even some telepathic ability as well. He and the Guardian walked down the hallway, turned right, and stopped before a thick steel door. Satan waited until Uriel entered before he strode into the lab. He stood silently while Uriel mentally scanned the room, a deeply ingrained habit of the archangel’s when dealing with humans. Once he was satisfied, Uriel nodded to Satan, who directed his gaze to the one human in the room.

My day began pleasantly because I was dick-deep in a woman I hadn’t fucked in several months. Coitus interruptus. I’m sure you understand my frustration at the moment. He folded his arms across his chest. The flight from New York was bumpy as fuck, which, of course, means I’m less likely to be conciliatory. So why don’t you tell me how you managed to lose a subject who was allegedly restrained and sedated?

Beads of perspiration dotted Harold Timpkins’s forehead like transparent pimples. This was the first time Timpkins actually had to deal with him, and it showed. Satan’s eyelids lowered. I think the man is going to shit his pants, Guardian.

Director Timpkins, I am only interested in what happened so we can find a solution.

Timpkins pulled a handkerchief from his pants pocket and dragged it across his forehead. He flicked a worried glance at Uriel. I… We…

Please don’t stammer, Satan said tersely. You run a research lab with annual funding greater than the small town several miles from this complex. It shouldn’t be difficult to keep track of the maybe a half dozen or so subjects housed in this facility at any given time. Thus, when I ask how a subject manages to disappear, I want a clear, concise reply.

I don’t know, Mr. Nathanson.

Satan.

Um, Satan. Timpkins sucked in air. Matt was on duty this morning. When Kendra showed up to take her shift two hours ago, both Matt and the woman were gone. We don’t know how she did it. Timpkins paused and tugged on the collar of his shirt. We’ve done a thorough search of the facility and the grounds. She’s gone without a trace. Not even a footprint, and we used dogs to track her. It’s like she disappeared into thin air.

The air around Satan grew heated and started to ripple. No one just disappears into thin air, fool! She had to have help, or you and your staff weren’t as vigilant as you’ve led me to believe.

Satan’s wings began to unfurl, and Uriel glided between him and the director. Sire.

Satan glared at the archangel. You have something to add, Uriel?

I suggest we take a look at the videos. Uriel turned to face the terrified human. Why don’t you go check the security of the remaining subjects, Timpkins?

The lab director bobbed his head before hurrying into an adjacent room. Uriel went to the door and opened it. The security room is this way, Sire.

Never do that again, Guardian.

Until we discover what we need to know, we need him alive.

To admit Uriel was right galled Satan, so he remained silent. He also wasn’t sure what to do about the second irritation of the day — the telepathic message from his mother. Satan knew what Rapha wanted from him. He just wasn’t sure he could give her what she wanted. His fingers scrubbed his face. This shit with Lucifer and Analise was getting worse. Since their bonding day, Fate and his twin had been working to strip him of his ability to wage war. Several of the smaller labs — inconsequential in the larger picture but useful fronts — had mysteriously lost all their data. It wouldn’t have been so bad except the data contained precise records of the centuries of genetic manipulations the Fallen had done. With that information, it would be a matter of months until AnthroGen found a way to correct the genetic anomalies that resulted in the undead. Now, this.

A grim-faced Satan trailed Uriel into the security room. Two angels sat in front of a bank of television monitors. The lab’s security specs were designed by Donovan Ellisen, the owner of Ellisen Security LLC, under Uriel’s supervision. Until today, the only way for an experiment to leave was in a body bag. It should have been impossible for the woman to escape alive and without detection. Yet somehow, that was exactly what happened.

Shall we get this started?

Begin at 11:45 a.m., and run it at 1.5x speed, Uriel instructed one of the angels.

Satan leaned against the wall next to the door. His gaze followed the recording’s images of the entire facility as they scrolled across the screens. Each isolation room was under constant surveillance, identical in their furnishings, and except for the door, there was no means for escape.

There were two medical techs assigned to her?

Uriel turned to face him. Once I discovered what she was, I made certain the same two humans were the only ones who had contact with her when I wasn’t present.

Why?

She exhibited a small degree of telepathic ability. Matt and Kendra are the only two who cannot be affected.

Satan nodded and returned his attention to the screen. He watched the male enter with a tray of food. The woman was on her side. A slender arm lay exposed on top of the blanket covering her. After he set her food on the table beside the bed, Matt checked her vitals and administered medication. The woman ignored the man’s presence, although her body jerked beneath the blanket when he touched her. A shudder went through Satan at her reaction, and he clenched his fists.

Rewind, and slow it down.

The angel obeyed instantly, and Satan leaned forward to study the moment. Matt was respectful as he examined the woman, exposing only her left arm for the blood pressure cuff. When he slipped the cuff on her arm, she shuddered, and her body became stiff. Satan felt the same response as the male nurse took her blood pressure and again when he gave her the medicine that kept the woman docile. This time, Satan experienced a jolt of anger that shocked him. It was directed at the tech, and it didn’t make sense. The man was nothing but professional, yet Satan resented the fact that he had touched the woman.

He released a quick burst of air once the nurse left the room, then sucked it back in when the woman, who should have been sedated, sat up on the bed. He watched her glance up at each corner of the room before she faced the door. Her brown face was captured in the frame, and she smiled. His chest tightened, and desire whipped through him. The screen abruptly flickered black then returned to sharpness, and a small brown hawk sat on the bed. One of the corner cameras captured the bird as it darted to the slight ledge above the door and peered down at the camera mounted over it. The hawk flew to the bed, screeched loudly, and vanished. Seconds later, a human guard and a woman rushed into the room. The pair thoroughly searched the room before leaving.

Reduce the speed by half, Satan ordered as he moved to stand behind the angel. Start it again when the male nurse leaves.

The repetition of events should have cleared things up, but he remained puzzled. Then he caught it. A fly. As the guard and nurse exited the room, the insect settled on the nurse’s back. I think we’ve found the manner of escape. How extensive has the search been, Uriel?

A fifty-mile radius of the lab, including the preserve. We did find a hawk’s feather about a mile northwest of the preserve, but no sign of her. As a hawk, she could roam quite far. Uriel frowned. It appears she is a multi-shifter, and I’m not comfortable with the fact.

Satan held out his hand, and Uriel laid the feather on his palm. The moment the feather made contact with his skin, Satan jerked. His fingers closed around the feather, and a flood of memories swept across his awareness. The most vivid image was of Lilith, dressed in the desert robes of the people she had found refuge among — which confirmed the shifter was a descendant. Satan’s grip tightened on the feather before he opened his palm and peered at it. Analise Willoughby wasn’t the last daughter of Saria.

Maybe Fate didn’t hold all the cards after all. Fuck.

What is it, Sire?

He stared at Uriel. How secure is this room?

Uriel studied his face for a second then ordered the angels from the room. I oversee the security in here personally.

We need to find her fast, Guardian. She is a direct descendant of Lilith, which means Analise may not be the last of Saria’s line. How old is she?

In her late twenties, Uriel replied. If I had to guess, I would say she’s between twenty-five and twenty-eight. What did you sense from the feather?

Satan lowered his eyelids. A life mate connection that doesn’t make sense. Lilith was my life mate, and we don’t get a second chance.

He ran his fingers through his hair. I don’t like mysteries, and this shifter is one. We can’t afford for her to be out in the world and not under my control, Uriel. We need to find her before my brother does.

Your twin isn’t our only problem, Sire. At Satan’s quizzical gaze, Uriel shrugged. Have you forgotten the ambitious Belial? As soon as the shifter’s presence becomes known among supernaturals, he will be in on the chase. On the plus side, you can be grateful to your sister-in-law that at least one potential obstacle has been removed. Azazel’s death means less actual competition.

Uriel fell silent. After a few seconds, Satan said, You implied a negative.

Several guards reported seeing unfamiliar angels in the area yesterday. I need to make certain all the samples and data we’ve gathered from the shifter are secure before I go track our unwanted visitors down.

So, we should assume my brother is aware of this lab. What about the one in Arizona?

Had you asked yesterday or the day before, my answer would be no. Today, anything is possible. I doubt Lucifer is aware of the dual purpose of the Arizona facility, but I can’t be sure, Satan. Anyone investigating will discover a drug rehabilitation center and find it impossible to get inside the underground lab, assuming they know of the lab’s existence. But in this war, impossible is nothing more than a word.

Uriel thoughtfully stroked his chin. I’ve given orders for our remaining volunteers to be transported to Arizona. Databases and files are encrypted and uploaded to our servers at Aïn Sefra. As to this place? He waved his hand. The insurance paperwork will be on your desk tomorrow afternoon.

Satan nodded and left the security room while Uriel beckoned the two angels who had guarded the door and gave them instructions. Satan halted and rubbed his forehead. This was definitely one of those ‘may you live in interesting times’ moments. When he reached the exit, he looked over his shoulder and saw Uriel enter Timpkins’s office. After several minutes passed and the Guardian hadn’t emerged, Satan strolled outside. Sheltered from the late afternoon sun, he peered at the sky. It was pristine blue, yet humidity hung in the air like woolen drapes, leaving his skin itchy. He scanned the fifteen acres of land that had been a vineyard. The proximity to the research triangle and favorable tax incentives had made the purchase of the bankrupted winery a wise investment. When Ellisen toured the land, he approved its isolation and defensibility. Nathanson Company quickly set about acquiring nearby properties to protect the secrecy of their research.

Now, everything threatened to blow up in his face.

A blackbird flew across his line of vision, and Satan swore. Losing the shifter rankled. It was the second time a weapon had been snatched from his grasp. For a brief moment, he questioned himself and everything he fought for. Had he backed himself into a corner, his ambition and resentment of his brother continuing to cloud his judgment? As Peter Nathanson, he was powerful, wealthy, and pretty much controlled the human world. There was no corporation or government he didn’t control or have deep hooks into. Why wasn’t it enough? What inside him kept him on this path? If he hadn’t chosen rebellion, would he and Lilith be life mates right now? The angelic lives lost because of him might not have occurred. Was there another path he might have taken — one where Lilith lived, and he claimed her?

Pointless speculation, a sardonic female voice murmured. You are who you are, Satan Raphason. The choices you made were yours. You cannot undo the past. Do you wish to change your present, your future? That, at least, you can do.

Satan ignored the seeds of conscience, always in Lilith’s voice, that only surfaced when something went wrong or when he fell into useless self-doubt. He reminded himself he was in charge of his fortune, as the humans would say. Once the shifter was back under his control, he’d have exactly what he needed to bring the Hierarchy and the Enclave to their knees. The thought of walking into the Council building, a subdued Fate at his side, brought a smile to his lips. He would not lose this war.

We have a problem, Sire.

Satan stared at Uriel as he hurried out of the building. Damn, he wished the archangel’s face revealed his thoughts. I’m listening.

The samples we took from the woman are missing, and the data we collected has been corrupted to the point of uselessness.

Satan lowered his sunglasses from the top of his head to conceal his eyes. He strode to the SUV. The driver stood beside the opened back door. Satan climbed in and turned to stare pointedly at his Guardian. Find her, Uriel, and see that she’s in Arizona before this week ends. I need to figure out what the hell she means to me and why. I’m not in the mood for surprises, especially ones where my enemies have the advantage. I’ll be in New York, dealing with whatever scheme my mother is planning.

Is it something I should be concerned about, Sire? Satan’s deep-chested sigh was his only answer. I do not envy you, Satan. The Seraphim Rapha is not the bingo I had on today’s card, although I have been expecting her maternal intervention.

Same.

2

Are you sure you got this, Angel boy?

Lucifer peered down at Analise’s worried face, and a crooked grin surfaced on his. Have I failed you yet, Consort?

She pursed her lips before she shook her head. No, he hadn’t failed her, not once since he emerged from his rock. After she embraced life with Lucifer and accepted who and what they were, she found her daily existence was never dull. The autocratic Seraphim she had battled early on hadn’t entirely disappeared. Dream Candy still worked a nerve, issuing commands as if she were his subject. He was still overprotective and ruthless when it came to her safety, but he also wasn’t the angel she met in Chaco.

He told no lies when he asked the question. He hadn’t failed her. If anything, he brought joy and laughter into her life each day.

Well?

Analise stared at her life mate. Sunlight radiated through his platinum hair, making it appear even more striking. Smiling tanzanite blue eyes peered back at her with love, and she couldn’t imagine a life without him. A year ago, if Michael or Richard had wagered that she’d be even deeper in love with her Seraphim, she would have called bullshit. Now, she experienced incredible joy waking up in his arms, amused by his reactions to the little human things she still did, like the morning pee and the quick brush of her teeth before they made love. If only she could control the tiny hitch of pleasure that started at the base of her spine and crawled up to her throat whenever he walked into a room.

Lucifer was definitely sex and candy on a stick.

I have no idea what that means but thank you. Are we doing this?

Reminded why they were gliding one thousand feet above the Earth, she tightened her hold on his neck. His arms held her against him, and she could feel the warmth of his naked chest despite her shirt. Analise tilted her head and looked down. A shiver went through her. If she fell… Why the hell did she accept his invitation?

Well?

Did you bring protection? Like a parachute, in case I fall. What the hell is so funny?

Lucifer silenced his laughter and palmed her stomach. I assumed you were referring to a condom. You’re a shifter, Analise Saria. You do not need a parachute. Besides, I will always be here to save you.

Okay, since you put it like that, she mumbled. I guess I’m ready.

Such enthusiasm, life mate, he murmured against her ear. I am deeply wounded by your lack of trust and appreciation for the careful planning that went into this tryst. His tongue traced the curvature of her ear, and she shivered. "Since the day you awakened me from my slumber, your body