Beauty Awakened (Angels of the Dark) (10 page)

She yelped, her hand flattening over her thumping heart. He was a study of terrifying ugliness, with the body of a steroid-loving man, and a horn curling from the right side of his head. At one time, he must have had two. There was a stump on the left side. He had fur rather than flesh, and eyes as dark as the worst kind of nightmare.

His lips pulled back from his teeth in a parody of a smile, revealing long, sharp fangs. “You’re mine, and I always kill what’s mine,” he said—just before vanishing.

* * *

K
OLDO
SHUT
HIMSELF
in the luxurious bedroom Thane had given him at the Downfall, and sprawled atop the massive velvet-draped bed. Thane, Bjorn and Xerxes were in their suite of rooms with the day’s chosen females, and he knew he wouldn’t see them again until morning.

That was probably for the best.

His too-short visit with Nicola had left him raw.

Her smoke-and-dreams voice still caused every muscle in his body to tense and hum. Once again he’d been able to sense her underlying scent of cinnamon and vanilla, an intoxicating fragrance no longer masked by the taint of the demons. Instead, it had been overlaid by the malodors that reminded him of his mother. Jasmine and honeysuckle. Far
worse
than sulfur.

And yet, he’d forgotten that fact when he’d peered at her lips. His own had softened in preparation for...something. A kiss, perhaps. A swift pressing together, or maybe a slow melding.

And what if he’d given in? He knew nothing about the art of kissing. He could have pressed too firmly, and hurt her. He could have pressed too gently, and left her wanting.

He would have made a fool of himself.

She might have laughed. And if she’d laughed...

Another rejection, he thought, his hands fisting. It would have been one of thousands—and thousands more to come. He was never good enough, and couldn’t ever be. He was never what the people he most wanted to love him needed, and couldn’t ever be.

He sucked in a breath as a portion of his words registered.
I don’t want Nicola to love me.
He didn’t need her love.

He didn’t need anyone’s love.

Whatever Nicola made him feel, it had to stop. The heat. The tingling. The craving for the unknown.

He jolted to a sitting position. He would exercise until he shook too badly to stand. That would stop
everything.

Thane burst through the double doors. The warrior’s hair stuck out in spikes and his skin was scratched and laden with bite marks, but his robe had morphed into battle armor.

“There’s higher than usual demonic activity at a building in Kansas,” the soldier said, not taking time for preliminaries. “We’re being sent to investigate.”

“Kansas?” Where Nicola lived. Koldo leaped to his feet, his own robe shrinking, tightening and thickening, becoming a lightweight metal that would shield him from the poisonous claws of his opponents. “We just came from there.” He glanced at the clock. Three hours ago, he realized with a bead of shock. How quickly time had passed. “Where in Kansas?”

“Downtown Wichita. Estellä Industries.”

One of Nicola’s employers, housed in the building Koldo had just visited. This couldn’t be a coincidence. Had Lefty and Righty returned with their friends?

“I’ll fly you,” Thane said, and motioned him over.

“No. I’ll meet you there.” Koldo flashed. He had a sword of fire palmed and at the ready the moment his feet hit the sidewalk outside, but...

There was nothing. No evidence of a demon attack.

Frowning, he stalked around the perimeter. All around him were red buildings, white buildings, tall buildings, short buildings and even a chapel. There were multiple cars on the road, some parked, some meandering. Trees, patches of grass. Birds in the air and on the ground. The singing of insects. But no hissing, cursing, or scraping to signal demonic activity. No caresses of evil.

He inhaled sharply. No hint of sulfur.

Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh.

He spun, finding Thane, Bjorn and Xerxes had just landed, their wings outstretched, each male alive with anticipation over the coming kills.

Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh.

Again he turned. Zacharel, Axel and Malcolm had just landed. The only one missing from the “inner circle,” as he’d heard Thane describe the warriors Zacharel relied on most, was Magnus, Malcolm’s brother.

“No humans are to be harmed,” Zacharel said. They were the same six words he announced before every battle. Sadly, the repetition was a necessity. Humans wouldn’t be able to see Sent Ones, or feel the sting of their weapons, unless the warriors purposely manifested in the natural realm.

In the past, several warriors
had
manifested, caring little for collateral damage, too desperate to make a kill.

What would happen if one of the warriors harmed Nicola?

Just in case anyone thought to override Zacharel’s instructions, Koldo found himself adding, “If a single female is harmed today, I will remove the head of the culprit. And I’ll take my time doing it. And don’t think for a moment a fear of consequences will mean anything to me.”

Six sets of eyes darted to him, some wide with confusion, some narrowed with aggression. He refused to waste precious seconds explaining and stalked into the building, misting through the brick walls rather than dealing with a door. Humans of every race and size strolled through the foyer and hallways. Males, females, anywhere from eighteen to seventy it seemed.

Some were demon-oppressed, as Laila had been. The creatures had created a stronghold.

Some were demonically influenced, as Nicola had been. The creatures were
trying
to create a stronghold.

A smorgasbord of temptation for the warriors, he knew. Already
he
fought the urge to appear and strike everyone in his path.
Calm. Steady.

Koldo searched every inch of the place, but found no sign of Nicola. Her office was empty. And she’d left no notes on her calendar.

“What are you doing, going through Nicola’s things?” a female demanded from behind him.

He recognized the voice and slowly turned, coming face-to-face with the woman who had been trapped in hell with his mother. The woman he had rescued and brought back from the brink of death.

The woman who had yet to thank him, and who had instead run to Zacharel, outing the fact that Koldo had locked another Sent One away.

Once a joy-bringer, she was now a warrior. One of Zacharel’s warriors, to be exact. Jamila. Arabic for
beautiful.
And she certainly was. She was beautiful and elusive, but she was as sharp as he was. They were two blades and constantly sliced each other to ribbons.

“You know Nicola Lane? Where is she?” he demanded. Fury... A dark, terrible fury was boiling inside him, threatening to spew out. If she had been harmed, he would...what? Tear this place apart? Probably. Kill everyone inside? Maybe. He still couldn’t bring himself to care about the consequences.

Calm down. Get your answers first.

“She went home.” Jamila’s chin lifted, a show of irritation. “Now it’s your turn to answer my question. What are you doing here?”

If she was home, she was safe. “I could ask you the same,” he said, relaxing.

“But it’s not your turn.”

“So?”

“So.” She folded her arms over her chest and glared at him. “Zacharel told me to report what happens to Nicola while she’s at Estellä. I tried staying in the spiritual realm, watching her, but I’m pretty sure she sensed me. She tensed every time I drew near.”

She was always tense. But they would work on that.

“I decided to give the natural realm a shot,” Jamila finished.

“Why would Zacharel want you to spy on Nicola?”

“He didn’t offer an explanation, and I didn’t care enough to ask.”

Well, Koldo cared. He would ask. He had to know. This couldn’t be a coincidence.

“Now,” Jamila said, “you’re not getting another answer from me until I get one from you.”

What was he doing here? “An alarm was raised, and we were told there was an increase of demon activity.”

She frowned, saying, “The alarm wasn’t issued by me. The place has been crawling with evil since day one, but it hasn’t increased.”

“Then why were we called?” he demanded, a burst of frustration making him what the humans would call
cranky.
Already he could feel his knuckles preparing for contact with a wall. The more jagged the better. “And who would have issued such a report?”

“Like anyone ever tells me anything,” she spat bitterly. “Ever since my—” The angry sparkle dulled in her eyes, and her shoulders hunched with defeat. “Never mind.”

Ever since her...what? Her capture and rescue? People had treated her differently? Gently? As if afraid she would break? Probably. That’s how they’d been with him, and he’d hated it. “You don’t have to dread such treatment from me. You annoyed me before, and you annoy me now. Treating you sweetly is the last thing I want to do.”

Her expression softened, but only slightly. “Thanks. That’s kind of you to say.”

Footsteps echoed behind them, clomping and hard, the culprit clearly not even trying to be stealthy. “We’ve never had a false alarm before,” Axel said as he snaked a corner and sauntered into the room. His hair was disheveled, three bleeding claw marks in his cheek. “But word is, this one came from a giggling female.”

All females giggled—all but Nicola. They would work on that, too. “You killed the demons without harming the humans, correct?”

“Actually, no killing was done on my part.” A shimmer of humor danced in those electric blues. “I found a date for Saturday night.” His gaze slid to Jamila, and his lips quirked up at the corners. “I was planning an evening for two, but say the word, princess, and I’ll make it an evening for three. You, the other girl and my camera phone.”

“You’re disgusting.” Jamila pushed him out of the way and stomped from the room.

“Is that a yes?” Axel tossed out.

“Argh!” was her only response.

Axel chuckled. “Feisty little thing, isn’t she? I think I’ll tame her just for grins and bragging rights.”

He hoped to have sex with her, walk away and never look back? “You won’t go near her,” Koldo found himself barking.

“Why?” Axel asked, blinking at his vehemence. “You want her?”

“No.”

“But you don’t want me to have her?”

“Exactly.”

A pause. A shrug. “Fair enough. But what about the girls from the hospital? Are they available?”

The name Axel was Hebrew for
peaceful.
In the warrior’s case, the name was a flat-out lie. Koldo grabbed him by the collar and tossed him through the wall.

“Was it something I said?” Axel grumbled, his voice drifting through the untouched wood and plaster.

Wiping his hands after a job well-done, Koldo followed in Jamila’s footsteps. He knew Axel had the necessary skills to fight him, savagely and without mercy—and he wasn’t exactly sure who would win. So the male’s easygoing attitude toward him mystified him.

He rounded the corner, only to see Thane pacing. The blond appeared harried, his usual I-want-a-little-wicked-with-my-breakfast-lunch-and-dinner facade gone. Had something happened?

As Koldo closed in, the entire building shook, and a rumble ripped through the air. Human voices rose in sudden panic. Koldo stopped, frowned. The shaking continued, intensifying. A chorus of pained shouts sounded from above, in the sky.

Then, everything stilled, quieted.

He kicked back into motion. An earthquake? Here? Now? And one that affected the skies? But...that couldn’t be right.

Thane spotted him and paused. “What was that?”

“No clue.”

“Well, it doesn’t matter anyway. Zacharel’s trying to find out why we were sent here, when clearly there wasn’t a real threat. In the meantime, we’re to go home. My home.”

“I’ll meet you there.” He would first check on Nicola, just to be sure all was well.

Because...a demon could have followed her home, he realized. There was a time Koldo would have done something like that. He would have followed his intended victim. He would have struck at the perfect time, away from the person’s protection.

A demon could have harmed her. And here Koldo was, standing in a hallway, doing nothing. Punching the walls hardly seemed violent enough. He wanted to strangle himself!

The screams of the innocent...all the people he’d hurt...all the people he’d killed...suddenly rose in his mind.

Thane eyed him suspiciously. “You’re planning an extra stop, aren’t you?”

Koldo vanished without another word, appearing in the small, run-down house with threadbare carpet and well-used furnishings so dreadful he wouldn’t have put them inside the cage with his mother.

He heard a sound—other than the screams.

He stomped forward and found Nicola in the bedroom closest to the living room. She was humming under her breath, tucking her sister into bed. And she was lovely in a way that should have been impossible.

“Do we have any chocolate?” Laila asked, the words slightly slurred, either from exhaustion or medication.

“Not yet, but we will. I’m headed to the store.”

“You’re the best, Co Co.”

“That’s because I got all of Mom’s and Dad’s good DNA,” Nicola teased. “You got stuck with the leftovers.”

Laila laughed, even as her eyes closed. Koldo’s lips twitched at the corners.

“Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

He should leave. He had no right to stand here, watching, amused, while the blood of the past dripped from him and onto the floor. Splattered here, splattered there, staining every place he looked.

His fists found their way to his eyes, and he stumbled backward. He flashed to his bedroom in Thane’s club, and collapsed on the floor, laboring for every inhalation. He was dirty; Nicola was pure. He was ice; Nicola was fire.

And he was in big trouble. Once again, he wanted to kiss her.

Argh! He shouldn’t want anything from her. He
couldn’t
want more from her. He wasn’t good for her. Wasn’t good enough.