Authors: H.M. Ward
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
The gun shot diverted Eric’s effonation. He couldn’t
concentrate. The pain coursing through his body from the bullet was
overwhelming him. As the internal flames of the effonation consumed him, Eric
knew he was losing control. The heat built under his skin, increasing in
agonizing intensity, but he couldn’t stop it. He was going to be spliced—his
skin would be stripped off his body—if he didn’t redirect himself now.
The location that was glaringly bright, the one place he
didn’t want to go, was the only one he could still picture in his mind. The
vivid paint, the dark colors, the Omen’s wings and Eric’s burning eyes all
encased in paint, screaming out like voices in a nightmare. The energy from the
effonation diverted and dropped him on the floor of Natalia’s bedroom. He
landed hard, at the foot of her paintings, doubled over, clutching his gut. The
bullet wouldn’t kill him, but it hurt like hell. He felt warm blood, sticky and
slick on his hands.
Natalia gasped when he appeared, “Eric? What happened to
you?” She dropped the book and ran to him, kneeling at his side. She tried to pull
his hands away to see his wound.
But he snapped at her, “No! Don’t touch me.
The blood.
There’s too much blood.”
She read his book, cover to cover, several times. Each time
she found him more horrifying, and yet, she was kneeling at his side trying to help
him. “Demon blood can’t hurt me. You already gave me some, remember? It did
nothing. Let me help you, Eric.”
Eric couldn’t remember. He felt like his guts were on fire.
He groaned, curling tighter around the wound. Natalia watched him for a moment.
She sat on her heels, long hair pulled away from her face in a high pony tail. Her
white tee shirt already had a smear of his blood on it.
He rasped, “How can you sit there offering to help me, when
you know what I’ve done?”
She was finished waiting for him to comply. Natalia pushed
Eric onto his back. A pair of shears appeared and she
sliced
open
his shirt. Eric’s hands kept
moving toward the wound, but she slapped them away. “Maybe I’m more sadistic
than you think. Stop doing that, or I’ll tie you up.” Taking Eric’s shirt in
her hands, she wiped away the blood. The gun shot was clean and went straight
into his stomach. The skin was beginning to heal over the bullet hole.
Eric tried to sit up, “I’ll fix it. I don’t need you...”
Shoving him back down, she said, “Yeah, I know. You don’t
need me. You’ll kill me. I got it.” She quickly ran around the room gathering
the things she needed, and then sat down hard next to Eric. “Don’t move.” Her
eyes met his. They were calm, like the sea after a storm. She moved quickly,
cutting open the flesh that had healed, using the supplies she had to extract
the bullet from his body. Eric winced, gritting his teeth as she worked. Natalia
didn’t look at his face, but she could see his skin was glistening with sweat
and his fingers turning white, gripping the carpet hard.
She spoke while she worked, not expecting him to be
coherent enough to remember anything, “So, every woman you’ve loved has died,
either by your hand or because of you. No wonder why you’re so fucked up.
And alone.”
She shook her head, as she worked the bullet to
the surface of his skin. “Angels are loners to start with, but add in the stuff
that happened to you and no wonder you’re the way you are.” She eased the
bullet out, wiping away the blood with the hem of her shirt. The rag she’d torn
from him was soaking wet, unable to hold another drop. His eyes closed when the
metal was taken from his gut. His hands were still balled into fists, his
muscles tense.
Natalia,
tore the hem of her shirt off,
pressing it to his stomach as it healed. “And the Masterson family was always
strict, like the
Portelli
family. Simone
Portelli
kind of looked like me. She had the same dark hair
and blue eyes.”
Eric’s eyelids peeled open. He stared at her as she spoke. Continuing,
she asked, “What do they do to angels when they fall?”
“They’re hunted down,” his gaze didn’t waiver.
“Destroyed.”
Her heart was pounding. This was the information she
wanted. After years of searching, she’d know why her mother was needlessly
slaughtered. “Why?”
Memories plagued Eric, stinging him like a swarm of bees. He
looked away, lips parted with his hand on his gut. “When an angel falls, they
retain some of their power. They still have angel blood flowing through their
veins, and that’s dangerous. Simone fell in love with a mortal. That kind of
relationship was always forbidden and she knew it. It was only a matter of
time.” Eric didn’t know why she was asking him this, but he recognized the need
in her voice. It was more than a question to her, but he was too out of it to
realize where this conversation was going.
Natalia nodded. “You’ve always been a bit of an assassin
then?”
He arched an eyebrow at her, not speaking. His recent
activities weren’t yet logged in his book and he wondered if she knew what he
was up to.
She swallowed hard and said, “There were more
assassinations tonight. More leaders killed. The President was among them. His
men managed to fire a shot before the killer fled—a single shot to the stomach.
A lethal shot.”
Her eyes were soft, softer than they
should have been. “Any other assassin would have died, but not you. So tell me,
Eric—what are you doing killing off world leaders?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
He stared up at her, his mouth hanging open. She figured
out what he was doing, at least in part. Natalia wiped the blood off her hands,
but held onto the scissors. Her eyes narrowed when she looked up at him. Eric’s
gut was still burning like it was on fire, but he recognized that something
changed. Natalia wasn’t afraid of him. She never was. Whatever he had mistaken
for fear was long gone.
“Taunting someone,” he answered.
Natalia’s stance was different. She held the scissors like
she was thinking about something, like she wanted to act but was containing
herself. Eric had been suspicious of her since he’d seen her in Carina’s. Her
presence there didn’t make any sense. Her hostility now left him baffled.
Tapping the sheers in her palm, she tilted her head.
“Who?”
Natalia wanted to take her chance, but she needed to
know what Eric set into motion. It wasn’t just maneuvering one piece of a chess
board. His actions tonight set off a string of events, each one spurring
another. The assassinations weren’t the heart of this and she wondered what
was.
There was something that she said that Eric’s mind wouldn’t
gloss over. It was a thought that didn’t belong, mixed in amongst the rest. Eric
didn’t answer her question. Instead, he asked, “You said that angels are
loners.” She nodded, not thinking anything of it. His brow arched, surprised. He
expected her to deny it or create some reason for saying something so random,
but she didn’t. That was the problem. That was the part that didn’t mesh.
Eric maintained his cool façade, “That’s true. Angels are
loners, and I’m wondering how you could possibly know that because there was no
mention of that little detail in my book.” His words fell out of the air like
stones. Natalia’s icy eyes rested on his, the scissor gripped tightly in her
palm.
She smiled coyly, “No, it wasn’t, was it? That book
contained almost everything I wanted, but there were parts missing. It was very
nice for you to give it to me, like we’re friends or something more. Trying to
warn me away from you,” she laughed coldly, “as if that could help.”
The tension in Eric’s body increased. His eyes locked on
hers, his heart forcing more blood into his body like he was ready to fight.
She played him. All this time he was trying to protect her and she played him. Anger
flashed through him, but he hid it from her. He didn’t want her to know the
effect she had on him, how much he grew to adore her.
Eric breathed, “Who are you?”
She shrugged in a girly way, “Someone that you hunted down,
and missed.” Her lips pulled into a deadly smile. Natalia was confident now;
her eyes flashing with an emotion Eric knew too well—vengeance.
There were so many memories, so many people he destroyed
over so many years. His life was such a mess of killings that he didn’t know
why he would have hunted her or when. “Tell me what you are, or I’ll… ”
“Or you’ll what?” she demanded. “You think you can
overpower me? You think you know what I’m capable of? Poor sweet little
Natalia,” she mocked. “I’m not what I seem.” Her voice was cold. As she spoke
she rose and pointed the silver sheers directly at Eric’s heart.
He knew better than to smile at her, “So you’ve said.
Over and over again.”
“And so you’ve failed to listen.
Over and
over again.”
Eric was on his feet, standing opposite her. “That can’t
kill me.” What was she doing? If she knew who he was, what he was, she knew
that those scissors couldn’t kill him. His eyes were turning to pools of gold,
heating, watching her. Knowing that she wanted to hurt him made something come
to life inside of him. Her body moved the way Eric taught her, the way a
predator moves to kill.
“But I can sure have fun trying.” She arched a dark brow at
him and grinned. “The scissor is to pin you to the wall while I drain your life
away. Will the curse let you die? Or will I just have an eternity of fun
tormenting you for what you did to me? Nobody knows, Eric. And according to
your little notes, you can be killed. That’s what you’re doing, isn’t it? You’re
taunting the blue ghost, hoping she’ll destroy what cannot be destroyed.”
Natalia’s sex appeal just shot through the roof. He
couldn’t help it. This side of her, this part of her that was dormant for the
past few years excited him—as stupid as that was, he couldn’t deny it. The two
stood opposite each other, arms outstretched, ready to fight. He moved slowly,
carefully, waiting and watching for an opening, knowing she was doing the same.
Her body was corded tightly, her thin frame ready to pounce as soon as she saw
where to strike.
Eric grinned, taunting her, “As sexy as that is, I’d like
to know why you want to kill me.”
The corner of her mouth lifted. It wasn’t a smile. It
wasn’t a smirk. It was the face of a woman with a secret. Natalia knew
something Eric didn’t. “You missed a few things, Eric.”
“Obviously,” he replied far too light-hearted for the
situation he was in.
The tension was building, each of them moving slowly,
turning in deliberate circles. Natalia wanted to thrust the metal through his
shoulder and pin him to the wall. A single kiss would have killed him, if he
wasn’t cursed. Now she didn’t know what would happen. But she had to find out. This
was the moment she waited for.
When Eric materialized and fell on the floor of her room,
she faltered. She wanted more information, as was her nature, but she should
have done it then—when he was weak. She patched him up to confirm what she
already knew, what her heart wanted to deny. She wasn’t like him. Natalia would
never be like him. Her kills were revenge. There was always a reason, and Eric
had more reasons for her to destroy him than he realized.
Eric was growing stronger. She could sense it as they
circled each other. Though Natalia didn’t think he could overpower her, she was
concerned. All this time, she played the helpless victim, but not anymore. Her
blood made her strong. Her abilities made her deadly. It took her too many years
to find him. For most of her life, she’d been searching for an angel, but Eric
was far from angelic now. Being condemned to this fate confused her at first. But
in the past few weeks things came together. And the book strung his story
together like a row of pearls ready to be crushed.
“Tell me,” she asked, “was your sadistic need for pain
always there?” Her eyes were like ice and her voice was even colder.
“No,” he whispered. Eric didn’t elaborate. Watching her
feet, her hands, he evaluated the way she moved. Eric needed to strike first
and pull those damn scissors out of her hands. While he didn’t think she could
kill him, getting stabbed and tormented would severely fuck-up the rest of his
plans. And whatever was going on with Natalia, he didn’t want her around when
it happened. Every time he thought he saw an opening, she closed it.
Eric tried talking, hoping to push her mind off balance. “So,
do you always lie when people ask you if you’re mortal? Does telling people
that you’re a real girl get you off or something?”
She snorted a rush of air through her nose, “I am a real
girl.”
“But you’re not mortal. There’s something else… something
more.” Her eyes flashed, widening slightly, telling him that he was right.
“You’re a half-breed.
An
abomination.
A perversion of something once good.
Oh my God,” he breathed looking at her, watching her dark hair fall over her
shoulder. Her stance, those incredible pale blue eyes, the shape of her face,
the way her curves flowed and melted together… it was all familiar. He’d done
this before, a very long time ago, but that fight ended and Eric was the only
one who walked away. “I know who you are.”
Natalia nearly choked. He was lying. She retorted,
“Impossible. No one knew about me. I was unknown and I intend to keep things
that way.” Her throat was tight as she stepped one foot over the other. Eric’s
left hand was dropping lower and lower. His stance was becoming more closed,
but that spot was nearly open. It would be a vulnerable point that she could
stab, if his arm dropped a fraction more. Natalia wondered if he realized it,
if he was luring her to strike at that spot.
“No you weren’t,” Eric said with a smirk on his lips. “Who
do you think hid you?”
Natalia snapped. Time froze and she heard nothing. Her eyes
locked onto Eric’s face, as he spewed lies meant to throw her off-kilter. She
saw the opening and she took it. Launching her body toward him, she moved the
scissor at his left flank. It connected and she slammed him into the wall. It
would only take a second to trap him. Then she could see if her powers
extinguished his life or if she’d only get to torture him for eternity. She
hoped he could die. She wanted to feel his body die beneath hers. After all the
years of searching, she’d finally have her revenge.
Eric screamed when the sheers pierced his side. Natalia was
strong. He couldn’t believe he didn’t see it before now, but she was a creature
that wasn’t supposed to exist. He knew nothing of her power, of her
capabilities. He felt the metal twist in his side as Natalia shoved the handle
deeper into him. He called shadows quickly, saying incantations to throw her
off, but they didn’t work.
She laughed in his face, “
It’s
funny how things work. I cancel you out. You’re magic is dead, Masterson, just
like you’ll be in a moment.” She leaned in close to him, about to press her
lips to his. Blood flowed down Eric’s side, the muscles screaming, protesting
the steel that was lodged in his gut.
“You’re a succubus?” he whispered, no longer fighting her. If
she could destroy him, he wanted her to try. The heat in his eyes began to
waiver, making Natalia’s rage falter.
“Something
like
that.
A creature that shouldn’t exist—like you.”
She spit the
words at him. “Tell me,” she said, twisting the sheers in his side. Eric
gritted his teeth as she did it, his eyes shut tight. Natalia could feel his
blood on her hand, but she didn’t care. Demon blood didn’t affect her the way
it did other immortals. “How have you avoided the angelic assassins so long? How
is that they killed my mother, but they left you alone?”
It was the only explanation. Eric had to be evading them
somehow. They both knew that fallen angels were executed, and technically Eric
had fallen. She didn’t understand how he survived so long. No one knew that she
existed, but she still lived in fear of the assassins finding her. She had to
know how he did it. Desperation filled every inch of her body, making her
shake.
For the first twenty years of her life, she had no idea
what she was. She aged until she was about nineteen years old, and then
stopped. Her body didn’t grow taller, her hips didn’t fill out, and wrinkles
didn’t mar her smooth skin. While her family aged and died, she remained young
and vibrant. She was nearly as old as Eric was, and alone just as long.
Sweat coated Eric’s brow. His voice was raspy, breathless,
“I slaughtered them.
To protect you.”
Sweat clung to
his brow, his golden eyes downcast.
“What?” Natalia’s grip on the scissor loosened. She gripped
Eric’s face, smearing blood on his cheek, making him look at her. Before she
could speak, Eric shocked her.
“Kiss me. See if you can take my life and end this,” his
eyes were intense, searching her face.
“Don’t play with me, Eric. Where are the rest of the
assassins?” Grabbing his throat, she shook him once, hard.
Pain shot through his body when he slammed back into the
wall. He groaned loudly, biting back the pain through gritted teeth. While she
removed her hand from the metal, she hadn’t taken it out. The blade pushed
through his back, cutting inside him.
“Dead,” he growled. “I don’t play games, and neither should
you. Finish your threat. Forget everything else. I won’t fight back.” He tipped
his head back, looking up at the dark ceiling in her room. “Destroy me. Do what
I haven’t been able to.” His chest swelled as he breathed, and Eric groaned,
pressing his eyes closed.