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Azrael's Light (MF)

Demon Runners of Unearth 1

Siren-BookStrand, Inc.

Heat Rating: SCORCHING
Word Count: 44,418
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[Siren Classic: Erotic Fantasy Romance, gods, HEA]

Azrael longs for a vacation that’s over two hundred years late. Overworked and heartsick, he’s desperate for peace and solitude.

Diane, a former goddess, wants nothing to do with the immortal world or its inhabitants. She’s living on Earth, posing as a bartender, and couldn’t be more content. That is, until a tall, dark, and dangerous Soul Runner storms in and turns her world upside down.

Azrael’s confused by a beautiful little barmaid who appears to be human, but something’s not quite right. He doesn’t know which frustrates him more, the fact that he doesn’t know who or what she is, or that she’s pulling at his heartstrings with her stubborn chin and the sexiest set of eyes he’s ever seen.

But it might not matter when they are called on to prevent the collapse of Unearth and find Lucifer’s lost daughter. Coming from opposite realms with opposing needs, will the two immortals find more than they bargained for?

A Siren Erotic Romance

User Reviews
I realy enjoyed this book! Azrael was so HOT,and Diane was no damsel in distress but was smart enough to know that she and Azrael made one kick butt team. I realy hope this is going to be part of a se...

- stacy

Professional Reviews

5 STARS: "I give the book five stars because it is truly a refreshing look into the paranormal world. Death takes a holiday. You call him Death, I call him tall, dark and handsome. Death thought he would take his long earned vacation lounging in a chair on his boat soaking up the rays. Until his friend's BITCHY as wife came along and dropped a bomb in his lap. Oh did I forget to mention that his friend's name is Lucifer, or Luc depending on how much heat you can stand. It appears she has lost their daughter. Now imagine Lucifer as the caring father of a teenager who is missing. Can we us the term "All Hell is breaking out"? So to stop both Earth and UnEarth and all the realms in between from being torched, Death had to go find the little spoiled brat. His travels takes him to a bar on Earth called Hellfire. This is were the brat usually visits. He doesn't find the brat but he finds something he didn't even know he needed. It finds.......wait a minute. Hell will freeze over before I tell. You have to read this and laugh like I did at Lucifer being a daddy and Death, well Death was himself." -- Pat Sheppard, Book Obsessed Chicks

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Oh damn, this was bad. What was Azrael, a Runner, doing in her club? If he thought he was going take hers or any of her patrons’ lives with him, he was going to be seriously disappointed. The club may only be a microscopic pinpoint in the universe, but it was hers alone. She dared anyone to cause trouble in her home.

It was a rare occurrence for any of the few remaining Runners to be seen in their physical form here on Earth. Appointed by the elder gods, Runners worked similar to the humans’ police forces. Each title came with its own duties. For some the position was a punishment, and for others it became an honor.

As a Soul Runner, it was Azrael’s duty to escort souls of the dead to their final resting place, making his visible presence even more disturbing. Yes, he spent much of his time on Earth, but he never had time to frequent human establishments. Everyone knew that as the world’s population grew, so had the time it required for him to do his job. He was in constant travel between Heaven, the different levels of Hell, Purgatory, and many of the other religions’ domains. His presence here in her club was more than likely not a social call.

He stood there looking every bit the part of an avenging angel. Six and a half feet tall with unbelievably broad shoulders and a curtain of raven-dark hair that fell to his waist. The red-tipped ends flirted with his trim waist and thick, muscular thighs. Dressed in black leather pants, shit-kicker boots, and leather trench coat, he looked like the very definition of decadence.

The only feature more arresting than his jaw-dropping physique was his face. A sharply sloped jawline, pale, arching cheekbones, and the most delicious set of lips she’d ever seen acted like a siren’s song with their dangerous lure. With their subtle glow, his striking eyes reminded her of the finest burgundy wine.

His stiff, no-nonsense posture barked “stay out of my way or you’ll be flattened.” She forced herself to pretend ignorance of who and what he was and face him head-on. She reminded herself he was in her territory now.

“What’s your pleasure? Beer? Whiskey? You name it, I have it.” She could see the lights of his eyes wavering between her mouth and her breasts. It figured. Whether she was on Earth or in Unearth, all males had the same thing on their minds.

“No. I’m here looking for a girl.”

She couldn’t help but arch one eyebrow at his statement and pointedly look at the myriad of half-naked women filling the club.

“Ha-ha. No, I’m looking for a runaway rumored to frequent here. She looks about eighteen, is about five and a half feet tall, has black and purple hair, and facial piercings. Have you seen her?”

Shocked, angry rage boiled in her veins as realization dawned. The bastard was searching for her niece. There was no doubt in her mind at all. What did he want with her? He couldn’t be here for her soul, could he? How did she find out the reason why without letting him know who she was? She’d help him find Alia over her dead body.

“We have a very strict policy forbidding entry of minors into the club. ID’s are ruthlessly checked and re-checked. If she’s a minor, you won’t find her here. Is she yours? Do you have a picture?” There were no pictures of Lucifer’s daughter. Luc would have a fit of epic proportions. He may be a fierce bastard on even the best of days, but he was still a loving and doting father. Alia was a daddy’s girl through and through. Love for his only daughter knew no limits.

Her sister Lilith may be selfish and borderline crazy, but she’d go into a full-blown psychotic rage if she knew there was a threat to her daughter. Her wrath could eclipse even Luc’s.

“No, no I don’t have a picture. I’m helping a frie—” He gagged. “A friend look for her daughter. Are you sure you haven’t seen anyone who fits the description?” She restrained a victorious fist-pump when he’d choked on the word “friend.” Maybe her sister was hard at work troublemaking again? Probably. It wouldn’t be the first time someone had been suckered into cleaning up one of her messes.

The only other possible option would mean Alia was marked for death. Until she knew what was happening, there was no way she was pointing Azrael in Alia’s direction. It was time to send him on his way, and out of her club.

“I already said I don’t cater to minors, ever. I have other customers waiting. Do you want a drink or not?”

“She’s actually much older than she looks and is not as innocent as she appears. My friend is really worried about her.”

She pointedly looked at the exit doors of the club and not so politely repeated herself. “Do you want a drink or not?”

He gave her a silent glare capable of making full-grown battle-demons shake in their hooves. Even if he wasn’t fooled by her refusal to cooperate, she refused to back down. He wasn’t going anywhere near Alia until she knew what was going on.

His soft-looking lips firmed into a hard line. His arched brows flattened, and if possible, he stood even straighter as he glared down. That was just too bad for Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome. This was her territory and she planned to keep it that way.

Oh, hell no! What was it Alia had said about a Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome? Be nice to him, she would love him? Either her niece was mistaken or she’d gone crazy. There was no way she’d fall in love with a Runner, let alone the head Soul Runner!




“Allowed? Who are you to allow me anything?”

“I’m no one, except in this. In this I am your master.” His hand cupped her jaw, slid behind her neck, and tangled in her hair, restraining her and accepting no argument. His mouth descended and claimed hers in a kiss that reached her soul. His lips nibbled on hers until she opened, allowing his tongue free rein to have its way with hers. Pulling back just a fraction, he bit her bottom lip and held her in place, commanding her attention. With her gaze trapped in his, he let go.

 “Now. Tell me your name.”

“It’s Diane.”

“Diane. Until this is done, you will obey me in this. There is no time for guilt or worry.” Her breath caught somewhere between her ribs and heart, and for a moment she thought he went all dark and dominant because he cared, not because of their all-too-short timeframe. His words said otherwise. But his kiss? It contradicted his words and gave her questions substance.

Stepping back, he raked her with his gaze. His chest rose deeper with each breath. He turned his head, looked up at the moon, and paused. She waited as he stood still and silent, as if the weight of the world waited impatiently on his shoulders. She imagined it wasn’t far from the truth.

Finally, as if coming to a difficult decision, he turned, stepped to her, and towered, a dark, seductive stalker. The city’s lights cast shadows beneath his arched cheekbones. Full, sensual lips quirked in an awkward smile as if conceding that he’d lost some secret battle to her.

“And tonight I need you to obey me in this.” In a flash, his hand was in a soft, firm grip at the base of her skull, her hair tangled in his hand. With a tenderness that belied his words, his mouth descended on hers. Speechless, powerless against him, she opened and let him in. He licked into her mouth, sending her into a tailspin of decadent sensations. “Put your hands on my shoulders. Don’t move them.” Without thought, she put them at the curve where his corded, muscled throat met his broad shoulders. She slipped them down a few inches and beneath the collar of his coat.

“It’s at least seventy-five degrees in here. Why don’t you ditch the coat?” Though she meant the question in a seductive and playful way, he answered her in a dead-serious tone as he zeroed in on her neck. When his mumbled answer vibrated against the skin of her throat, she wanted to weep for him.

“I spend too much time dropping souls in Hell and the other dark, cold places of Unearth. Not many go to the realms of warmth and light anymore. I’m chilled to the bone, desperate for warmth.” And peace. He kept the last words to himself, but somehow she heard them whispered in her mind.

His breath against her throat was anything but cold as heated ripples of need slid through her. His tongue licked up under the line of her jaw to where it met her ear. Firm hands bracketed her ribs and slid up, lifting her breasts. His thumbs swept soft, subtle caresses grazing the lower edge of her nipples. The protection of her top and bra was no match for the heat he stoked in her. He bit her jaw, just below her ear, and cursed.

“Lose the shirt now. Bare every inch to me.” What did it matter? The security of her clothing was no match for his effect on her. The dominance in his voice had already stripped her bare. She doubted standing nude before him could make her feel any more vulnerable than looking into depths of his glowing eyes.

She pulled her top over her head and dropped it to the floor. The black satin bra she wore felt as if it had shrunk two sizes as she stood before him. She looked down at her breasts to see they looked the same as always despite feeling so very full and heavy. When she looked up into his eyes, she started. He wasn’t looking at her breasts. That intensity was aimed straight at her, deep into her soul.

In a sudden lunge, he scooped her up with his hands in a tight grip on her ass and in two long strides pinned her flush against the wall. Hard hands wrapped her legs around his waist. He placed a sucking kiss at the tip of her chin and nibbled and bit a path down to where her heart clattered in an erratic, frenzied beat. Sure hands slid the straps of her bra off her shoulders. Then taking advantage of the slack offered, he pulled the cups of her bra down with his teeth, baring her heavy breasts.

Those strong hands returned to her ass and lifted her higher, allowing him easier access to suckle her. Throbbing, aching, and lost, she threaded her trembling hands in the silk of his hair and held on.

Each strong pull sent waves of the sweetest torture through her, only building on itself as it raced to her pussy. A hollow, hungry yearning set in as he continued to work her breasts. One hand, fingers spread wide as if to take in as much of her as possible, started a slow, sensual slide from the back of her knee to the cheek of her ass. In a firm grip, he used it to tilt her hips just so, pressing her covered pussy tight against his abdomen. The delicious, sinful friction against her clit broke any remaining willpower she might have mustered.

Distantly, the ringing of her phone registered, but she couldn’t find any strength to voice her thoughts. Azrael had taken everything from her in the most seductive way. Yet she craved more.

The ringing paused and then resumed while Azrael barely came up for air. “Pants. Yours. Undo them now.” He punctuated the command with a fierce, punishing kiss, reinforcing the order.

Afraid she might drown and never surface, she forced herself to break the kiss. She was quickly losing every piece of herself.

“But we shouldn’t—” He swallowed her words and her thoughts whole. The instant his mouth descended on hers again, she lost all ability to form coherent thought.

“We will. You will. Pants off now.” With one large hand pressing her flush against his body, he slid her down him in a slow, torturous glide. Her feet touched the ground, and she prayed her legs didn’t let her down. Half-liquid, they threatened to dump her on the ground.

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