Authors: Ashley Robertson
I RUSHED TO THE DARKEST CORNER of the back
room at Huron’s bar as Luke stirred to life on the sofa. Once the
voodoo Indian had found Luke on the poker table moments after I’d
left him there, he’d sent Annabel—who seemed to be doing much
better—to bring in the same sofa they’d used with Cole. Two plasma
bags hung from the metal holder, one jumbo-sized tube lodged down
Luke’s throat. Huron and Annabel had been taking shifts watching
him, and the last time Annabel had been in here she’d cleaned him
up with a damp cloth. He was still wearing the torn, bloody
clothes, but at least his beautiful creamy skin was perfectly
healed and sparkling clean. After being alone in the room for a
bit, Luke finally came to. He sat up in a rush, eyes wide as he
yanked the tube from his throat. His nostrils flared as his gaze
roamed heavily around the room, confusion wavering across his
hardened expression. I was certain he’d never pick up my scent,
though, since it’s impossible to get a whiff of a ghost—if that’s
even what you’d call me—so I remained confidently hidden in the
shadows. I watched him get up slowly, his face softening as he must
have recognized where he was. I’d brought him to Huron’s since I
still didn’t know who had been at his apartment. I couldn’t risk
putting Luke in more danger while he was recovering.
He took a few steady steps in my direction
and I knew it was time to go. Though I didn’t doubt he’d be taken
care of here, I couldn’t bear to leave him without seeing for
myself that he was okay. And he was going to be just fine. The only
thing left for me to worry about was finding out what happened at
his apartment, and I planned on going straight there and doing just
that. Hopefully whoever had been there had returned, and I could
deal with them and let Luke be none the wiser. I closed my eyes, a
smile tugging the corners of my lips as I willed all my energy to
take me away.
“Angel…”
I froze, eyes opening, my awareness
centering back to this room. Luke moved to the side of the poker
table, his gaze probing up and down the walls, his empty hands
clenched at his sides. I waited, the seconds ticking by, but after
a beat, his shoulders slumped and his face softened.
And just when I began to think I’d heard him
wrong, he called out the pet name he’d given me once more.
My chest tightened and a cold chill raced up
my spine. It wasn’t possible for him to know I was here. I shook my
head, floating deeper into shadows, burying most of my body inside
the cracked, off-white wall. Luke moved closer. Panic surged up. I
was already on the other side of the table, pressed deep enough
into the ceiling and wall that only my eyes still hovered in the
blackness. There’s no way he could see me. No freaking way. And it
was also impossible for him to pick up my scent. Absolutely
impossible. I’d learned that from Darius in one of our many
training lessons. So why in all the worlds was he saying my old
nickname?
In a whir of motion, he was on the poker
table. I never even saw him move. He was just there, crouching, the
tops of his fingers resting on the green padding like a cat about
to pounce. He closed his eyes and sniffed the air, inhaling deeply.
Suddenly he was standing, his face just a couple feet away from
mine. And as he opened his eyes, there was a knowingness in them, a
satisfaction that he’d found what he was looking for.
The world stilled around me.
“Angel, I know you’re there,” he said with
confidence, and all I could do was continue to stare.
Then the door opened and Annabel walked in.
“What are you doing up there?” she asked, her tone filled with
surprise. She shut the door and walked to the edge of the table,
smiling as she peered up at Luke.
His brows furrowed, then, hesitantly, he
gazed down. His lips compressed but he said nothing, and then he
jumped off the table to embrace her. “You’re okay,” he finally
said. “How did you, how did I…how did we get out of there?”
My tension eased a little. At least he
wasn’t going to tell Annabel he thought I was here.
“I don’t know,” she replied, pulling away.
“I just opened my eyes and here I was. Huron’s place. Thought it
wasn’t real at first. Huron had to stab me with a knife to get me
to come around.” She chuckled at the memory. “And then
you
show up out of nowhere.”
Luke shrugged. “I don’t know how I got here
either.” He ran a hand through his messy brown hair, a small frown
dipping the corners of his mouth. “Maybe I need you to grab that
knife.”
Annabel giggled, squeaky and childlike. With
a finger she tapped him on the chest a few times, then said, “It’s
not every day a vampire gets a miracle. But I promise you, we’re
home, we’re safe, and
that
is our reality.”
“Did that other vampire…Cole...is he back
too?”
She shook her head. “I haven’t seen him yet.
But, who knows.” She shrugged. “Maybe we should keep an eye out for
him.”
A slight nod was his only response.
Annabel raised a hand to his face, grazing
his cheek with her fingertips. “You look good”—her voice low and
giddy.
Luke stepped back, putting a small space
between them. I could sense his uneasiness, could see it in his
eyes as he glanced back my way. “Do you mind giving me a little
time in here?” was what he finally asked.
“Sure, of course. I needed some alone time
too, once Huron convinced me where I was. I’ll be out in the bar,
and I’ll be sure to tell Huron to give you a little time before
coming back here.”
Luke met her gaze levelly. “Thanks.”
“No problem.” She turned on her heel, then
stopped in the doorway. “You might need some
real
food soon,
but I’ll wait ’til you’re ready.” With that she closed the door,
and Luke’s eyes were already boring into my little, dark
corner.
And I didn’t plan on sticking around to
figure out how he knew I was there. Not even Annabel considered the
possibility I’d brought them home; she certainly would’ve said
something if she had. But after my suicide attempt—which she’d
witnessed firsthand—why would she? With my mind heavy in thought
and my heart shuddering beneath my chest, I floated above the
ceiling, then closed my eyes and orbed away.
After a beat, I was in Luke’s apartment,
nestled in blackness within the curve of walls and ceiling. I
sensed its presence before I opened my eyes. My old enemy wasn’t in
his komodo-dragon-looking form. Nope, he was in somewhat of a human
form—yet the sex was questionable even though I’d always referred
to it as a “him.” There was a gas can in his lizard-like hands with
claws that looked like half moons with sharp points at the tips. A
pair of jeans cut off at the knees and a tee was all he wore. Dark
green scaly skin covered the rest of his body, and his feet were
bare and looked similar to his hands. His face was also reptilian
with the sunken nose, angular jaw, and definitely more male than
female. With a last probing gaze around the room, he focused on the
table, tipping the gas can and splashing its contents all over the
books.
And as Moros moved on to the sofa, I was
faced with a tough question: Do I stop him from blowing up Luke’s
place? Added to the fact that I’d also love to know why he was even
here with books about raising the dead in the first place. I
watched the demon soak the entire apartment, feeling worry,
concern, and the strongest emotion of them all—curiosity. I
wanted—no, needed—to know what the heck had been going on in here.
Even though I knew Darius would be angry, a part of me built my
confidence up with the fact that my guide was probably already
beyond furious with me. I’d killed Typhon. Yes, the ankh had lit
up, but only because Typhon had begun plotting in his mind everyone
he would tell my little secret to, and since Darius hadn’t shown
up, it had been my pleasure to take care of it. If I materialized
now, I was certain my wrist would eventually flare again, leaving
me no choice but to get rid of Moros too. Which, the more I thought
about it, sounded like a really good idea.
With the force of a crashing train, I thrust
some of my power at the demon as I materialized. Moros flew over
the table, colliding into the wall beyond it with a
bang
. He
slowly stood up, head shaking rapidly, obviously dazed. And when
his beady black eyes landed on me, his gaze hardened with a snarl.
“It can’t be,” he hissed, the words sounding thick with a Russian
accent.
“How ya been, Moros?” I asked with a more
chipper-sounding tone. “It’s been a while…” I let my last statement
trail off as I blasted him with another energy ball—this one not
quite as intense as the last.
After he recovered, he stared squarely at
me, his reptilian eyes wide with surprise. “But we tried
everything. Nothing worked. You were gone.” Those last words he
mumbled under his breath.
“What do you mean, ‘we tried
everything’?”
He cowered with no more room to move, his
body pressing against the wall. “Pleas-s-s-s-e. Don’t hurt me
again.”
I folded my arms in front of my chest.
“That’s entirely up to you, demon. Tell me what you were doing with
books about raising the dead. And while you’re at it, I’d also love
to know who you were working with.” I moved a little closer, my
voice deepening. “Don’t make me ask again.”
“We were trying to raise
you
,” he
stammered through hisses. “Typhon knew you’d been—”
“Typhon is who you were working with?”
“Yes-s-s-s.” The word slithered through my
ears.
“But Typhon thought I was cast to another
desolated world for all eternity?” I made it a question even though
that’s what the master demon had told me.
Moros bobbed his head. “My master wanted to
raise you back in this world.” He straightened but held his
position against the wall. “But we weren’t able to locate you.” He
slid an observing gaze beyond me, then added, “Even with your
essence, which was difficult to find.”
So that’s why they’d torn up the
place—looking for a small piece of my old existence with hopes of
bringing me back and having me serve him. Just what Typhon had
always wanted. I guess the blood I’d given Luke simply wasn’t
enough, and obviously they were clueless to the parts of me I’d
shared with Cole. A small chirp of laughter escaped my lips as I
thought of the irony, such a shame the master demon wouldn’t be
here to enjoy the fact that I was back. I dropped my arms to my
sides, hands clenched tightly with power throbbing just beneath the
skin. “Why are you burning the place down? Why not just take the
books and abandon it?”
“It was my master’s orders-s-s. Destroy the
evidence permanently.”
I was just going to love breaking the news
to him. “Typhon is dead. No reason to burn anything now.”
He eyed me suspiciously. “I don’t believe
you.”
Then the heat scorched the flesh on my
wrist, tugging my mouth into a smile. “Well, it
is
true, but
you’re not going to be able to confirm it,” I smarted, raising my
right hand straight out in front of me, pointing my closed fist at
him. I could feel the power surging with the gusto of a veiled
raging inferno, and just as I was about to release its horror,
Darius shimmered to life beside me.
“What are you doing?” Simple question but
spoken from the depths of his anger, and it rattled my insides with
fear.
“Who are you?” Moros called out, but I
barely registered that he was speaking and didn’t hear anything
else.
In a gut reaction I held out my flaring
wrist. “I’m doing my job”—spoken confidently. Goody for me.
“You’re creating jobs. And this must
stop.”
“I can explain…,” I started, words rushing
off my tongue as I dove into what had happened when Ezariah sent me
to the Underworld. As I summed things up, I noticed that Darius’
ankh was glowing just like mine.
He considered me a short moment, then turned
his attention to Moros.
“You can let me go. I won’t say anything.
Pleas-s-s-s-e,” the demon begged.
But I wasn’t surprised when Darius sprung
toward him and thrust his fist through Moros’ neck, instantly
decapitating him. The demon’s remains became an oozing black smoke,
which moments later evaporated into nothing.
My guide was next to me in the next
heartbeat. “I’m assuming he was blowing the place up.”
I nodded.
Darius’ eyes roamed the room, then he sighed
deeply. “Let’s get this cleaned up. The only thing we’re taking is
those.” He gestured toward the books.
After we finished scrubbing the place down
in complete silence, we grabbed all the books—both of us carrying
more than we could handle—and orbed back to our training field.
There, we combined our powers to destroy the demonic grimoires.
They vaporized, leaving trails of smoke in their wake. All the
while, I’d been wondering why Darius never came to help me when I
was in Hell. That and wanting an explanation as to why Luke could
sense me in the back room at Huron’s. Since our ankhs were dark
with ink instead of blazing crimson, no better time than now to
address my concerns.
“Why didn’t you come help me when I was in
the Underworld?”—my voice more accusing than inquiring.
He stared at me, knowledge sizzling beneath
the depths of his flaming red eyes. “I would have come had the
threat not been destroyed before I could get to you.”
Well, that removed my suspicions that Darius
had been following me around, and brought me to my next question,
which I was afraid to ask. It must’ve shown in my eyes, because my
guide raised a brow. “You’re scared of something.”
I grimaced. “Yes I am. But I respect you and
I know I must talk to you about this.” I stepped forward, grabbing
his arm. “Promise me you won’t do anything—yet.” I shook his arm.
“Promise me!”
Instead of the argument I’d expected, my
guide just nodded.
But since I wasn’t convinced, I added, “Is
that a promise? Your word?”
“Yes.”
At first, the words were difficult to find
as I tried explaining what had happened with Luke at Huron’s bar.
Once I got going though, the story flew out of my mouth. Moments
later, when I finished, I gazed at Darius expectantly.
“This is the vampire whom you shared blood
with?”
I bobbed my head slowly. “Uh huh.”
“And he could feel your aura when you were
still a guardian too?”
“Yep. Once he gave me his blood.”
Darius ran a hand through his hair. “But if
he were to tell anyone—”
“He won’t. I know we can trust him. Plus, I
didn’t purposely show myself, so he can’t be punished for simply
thinking
he felt me.”
“You said that about your other vampire
friend, but by the time I arrived, his essence was swarming with
the prospect of gossip, and the ankh was ready with fire.”
I clenched my fists at my sides, hard enough
my nails pierced the tender flesh on my palms. “I didn’t know Croix
as well. He was more Cole’s friend than mine. And I never swore his
secrecy.” My teeth ground together. “But I’m swearing on my
existence that Luke can be trusted.”
Darius stared at his wrist as if he was
seeking it for advice. And after a few beats, his fiery gaze found
me. “Selene…”
My heart thundered beneath my chest, waiting
for him to spit it out.
“If the ankh should alert us,” he went on,
“I have no choice but to obey.”
The clenching in my stomach returned. “But
it hasn’t”—my tone argumentative. “And I know for a fact Luke saw
me. In my spirit form.”
My guide rubbed his chin and paced for a
minute. When he stopped, he scooped up my right hand and closed his
eyes. He slowly brought my hand to his nose and inhaled the back of
my palm deeply. Then he turned it over, sniffing the tattoo. His
eyelids fluttered and then they slowly opened. I stared at him
expectantly. “I believe the reason he scented you was because of
his blood within you,” he explained, his brows creasing. “And
perhaps that same connection will keep your friend safe from true
death.”
I tugged my hand free, a wave of relief
washing through me. “Does that mean I can reveal myself to
him?”
Darius shook his head. “I don’t know for
sure. It would be risky.”
Would it even be fair to do that with Luke,
when I knew I definitely couldn’t show myself to Cole? If only I’d
taken some of Cole’s blood instead of him just drinking mine. A
heavy feeling sunk inside my chest, then began to rise with my next
thought. Since Cole didn’t seem to notice me before, I’d just
assumed he couldn’t—like most others. But now that I knew Luke
could sense me, it made me wonder if Cole’s drinking my blood would
give us a stronger connection. Even though it might never be as
strong as Luke’s, I needed to know if something else was there. I
strongly hoped there would be.
But then my chest tightened with despair.
What did it matter if Cole could sense me if I couldn’t show myself
to him? What kind of relationship could be built on that? Me
lingering in the shadows and him calling my name, but nothing more.
Suddenly my throat constricted and instant tears fled from my eyes.
My guide patted my back a few times, but chose not to say anything.
There really was nothing he could say anyways. More tears rained
down and I buried my face in my hands. Time seemed to stand still,
and no matter how much of it passed, I was still broken.