Beauty Awakened (Angels of the Dark) (12 page)

Soon, only he and the Phoenix remained.

“I never promised fidelity, Kendra,” he said softly. “In fact, I promised the opposite. You claimed to be happy with our arrangement.”

Her chin lifted in a show of pique. “I was. Things changed.”

“Why?”

She thought for a moment. Obviously she couldn’t come up with an answer that satisfied her, because she stomped her foot and said, “If you think there’s another female out there who will do the disgusting things you need, you’re wrong. I told you. I’m the only one who will ever be able to satisfy you.”

Disgusting, she’d said.

And she was right. But she’d always made him think she enjoyed it.

She’d lied, and he hated liars. “I told you,” he replied smoothly, even as rage kindled. “There are many who can satisfy me. And they have. They will. But not you. Not ever again.” He closed the distance between them, grabbed her by the neck and squeezed just hard enough to make breathing difficult but not impossible.

Her eyes widened with fear.

“You shouldn’t have pricked my temper, female. I
will
punish you—and I promise you, you’ll wish I had killed you instead.”

CHAPTER TEN

S
HE
HAD
SEEN
a monster.

Nicola had beaten back the fear percolating inside her since speeding out of the parking garage long enough to pick up her sister from the hospital, ensure Laila was settled in at home, take a shower to wash off the lotion Koldo despised and walk the aisles at the nearest grocery. Fear she wasn’t supposed to entertain. But as she turned her car into her neighborhood to return home, it finally spilled over—and she couldn’t stop it. Or if she could, she didn’t know how. In seconds, she felt as though she’d downed the most toxic of champagnes, all of the possible side effects converging: light-headedness, upset stomach and ringing in the ears.

As her vision blurred, she parked at the nearest curb and leaned her head against the steering wheel, breathing with slow deliberation.
I’m still dealing with the aftereffects of a concussion. That’s all.
Surely.

Hopefully.

Either that, or Koldo had brought something nasty into her life.

But...no. He was a (famous) warrior to his very core. He was observant. He would have known if he’d ushered in something malevolent. And if he had, he wouldn’t have left her to fend for herself. He wasn’t the type to run. He couldn’t be.

He’d helped her when he could have remained invisible. Or whatever. He’d helped Laila when he could have washed his hands of her.

That left the concussion—but she wasn’t satisfied with that explanation. She had no peace about it. So...what if Nicola wasn’t hallucinating? What if the creature she’d seen had been real? After all, Koldo could arrive and leave in the blink of an eye, and
he
wasn’t a hallucination. Why couldn’t something else do the same?

So, if the warrior hadn’t led the creature to her door, then...what had? And what was it, exactly?

When she was younger, she’d heard little girls whispering together at school, afraid of the monsters in their closets. Until that moment, Nicola hadn’t known anything about such monsters. Her parents had never allowed her and Laila to watch TV, and they had carefully chosen every book they read. She’d been so wonderfully innocent in regard to the evils out there, afraid only of what her body was doing to her.

But of course, everything had changed after that overheard conversation.

She’d stopped sleeping. She’d looked for monsters around every corner—and she’d begun to see them. A furry, fanged monkey on her mother’s shoulder. Two on her father’s. One following Laila. One following Nicola.

The increase of fear and the constant stress had damaged her heart further. But after months of therapy and new medications, she’d managed to find a small measure of peace. Fickle peace, that is, that had come and gone. But she’d never seen another monster. Until recently.

The past few days, she’d seen two. One with Laila, and one at her work.

Maybe she hadn’t been lost to paranoia back then. Maybe the monsters had always been there, and she had simply shut her eyes. But now...now her eyes were open again.

Her stomach twisted into hundreds of little knots, the edges sharp enough to cut. And cut they did, making her cringe.

She couldn’t think about this now, she realized. Worrying—more than she already had—would violate Koldo’s rules. And besides that, she had too much to do. Laila was at home, waiting for her. Nicola had the chocolate her sister requested, as well as a few other necessities, like ice-cream sandwiches and chips, and the groceries were probably baking in the heat of her car, since Bucket had no working air-conditioning.

Deep breath in...deep breath out. She forced her mind to focus on calming thoughts. Laila, happy. Koldo, telling her those jokes he’d mentioned. She could even imagine what he’d say.

Why did the warrior cross the road?

That’s easy. To kill the guy on the other side.

A bud of amusement had her smiling.

Knock, knock.

Who’s there?

Donut.

Donut who?

Donut run from me, puny girl.

The amusement bloomed the rest of the way.

Her vision cleared. Her stomach settled. After checking the road and finding it empty, she motored forward. Her gaze snagged on the depressingly run-down area anyone with half a brain would have avoided. Most of the lawns were tall and filled with weeds—to hide the evidence of recent crimes, she was sure—and most of the houses had a few boarded-up windows.
All
of the houses had graffiti spray painted on the brick, hers included.

Police sirens could be heard throughout the night, every night, and she was pretty sure the neighbor on her left had a meth lab in his basement. But this was all she could afford, her parents’ house having been sold to pay a few creditors from their atrocious stack of bills.

Enough.
Nicola had one hour before she had to clock in at Y and R Organic Market. A place she couldn’t afford to shop at, even with her employee discount. She planned to spend every minute with Laila.

Only, after she put away the groceries, she discovered her sister had moved from bed to the couch, empty food wrappers all around her as she slept, the TV playing an old episode of
Castle.
Nicola grinned. This was what she’d wanted for so long. Laila, here. Laila, relaxed.

But her grin faded when she spotted two fanged monkeys perched on the top of the couch, both glaring at her, their fur raised aggressively. Like the creature in the hospital—in fact, the one on the left had to be the very one she’d seen—they had tentacles rather than arms, the appendages slithering around them like hungry snakes ready for a meal.

As a child, Nicola would have run screaming.

Only a few hours ago, she had burned rubber in her car.

Now, she would learn the truth one way or another.

Trembling, she marched forward and reached out. One of the creatures unleashed a shriek of rage, either to scare her off or to warn her that she was about to lose her hand. The other swatted at her with one of those tentacles, and the contact burned, leaving a red welt behind.

That meant...that meant the monsters were real.

Before she could panic, both creatures jumped off the couch and disappeared beyond the wall.

Her knees gave out and she sank to the ground, trying to steady her throbbing heart. Sweet mercy. What did this mean? And what she was going to do about it?

* * *

S
HORTLY
AFTER
MIDNIGHT
, Nicola closed her register at the Y and R Organic Market, and she’d never been so happy to finish a day. Not just because she was eager to return to Laila, but also because every coworker to cross her path had insulted her. For no reason! Every customer to come through her line had yelled at her. And, okay, yes, they’d had good reason.

The monkeys with tentacles had followed her. Them—and around twenty of their dearest friends. But at least they weren’t hovering around poor Laila.

Ten minutes after her arrival, the horde had congregated inside the market, crawling up the walls, along the ceiling tiles, dropping upon the shoulder of everyone she encountered, unbeknownst to them, and laughing and pointing at her.

She had screamed.

She had stared.

She had almost passed out.

But no one else had seen them. No one else had reacted. Well, not to the demons. They
had
reacted to her high-pitched terror fits.

About twenty minutes ago, the creatures had left the same way they’d come.

She wanted to talk to Koldo. And maybe climb him like a tree and hide up there in the upper stratosphere of Giantland where, hopefully, no one would be able to see her and she wouldn’t have to deal with this kind of stuff.

“Nicola, I need to speak with you in my office.”

The voice pulled her from her thoughts, and she turned to see her boss standing at the end of her stall. He was five-eight, with sandy-colored hair, hazel eyes and olive-toned skin. He would have been a decent-looking guy if not for his skeevy ways.

He was the type to massage the shoulders of every female he encountered, “just to help with the strain.” That wouldn’t have been so bad, she supposed, but he also liked to whisper, “Now, doesn’t this feel nice?” as he did it.

“Sure,” she said, and gulped.

The instinct to run suddenly rose from deep within her. To run from this place and never look back.

Oh, no, no, no. He was going to fire her, wasn’t he?

Only six other cashiers had worked this shift, and all quickened their pace, gathering their belongings and leaving the store. The front lights had already been turned off, but the parking lot was illuminated by several streetlamps, and she watched as the men and women entered their cars and drove away, careful not to glance in her direction.

Yep. Mr. Ritter was planning to fire her, and they knew it, too.

There had to be a way to change his mind.

Palms sweating, Nicola made her way to the back of the grocery, bypassing the oranges and apples. She needed this job just as desperately as she needed the other one. One paid her house payment, utilities and car insurance, while the other paid for food and gas. In this economy, she would have a difficult time finding another job with late hours and wages above the minimum.

Mr. Ritter’s door was propped open, and she forced her feet to take her inside.
Run!

He was already behind his desk, reading a file. She stayed.

“Shut the door,” he said.

She reached back and tugged on the knob, and the thick metal swooshed closed. As always, the lock engaged automatically. The room was small, filled with metal cabinets and an oversize desk. There were two chairs. His, which was cushioned by a pillow, and hers, which wasn’t.

“Sit.”

As she obeyed, she said, “I’m sorry about my performance today. I’ll do better, I promise. And I won’t make any excuses.” How could she?
I saw monsters no one else could see, Mr. Ritter.
What could he possibly say to that? “I’ll just—”

“How’s your sister?” he interjected, at last looking up at her.

A shudder nearly rocked her out of the seat. A monkey had just appeared on his shoulder. It was smaller than any of the others, and far hairier, and it glared at her with the same hate-filled eyes. And as she watched, it...it...couldn’t be doing what she thought it was doing.

But it was. It was peeing.

“It” was obviously a “he,” and he was aiming at Nicola. Trying to...mark her? Like a dog with its territory?

She scooted as far back in her chair as she could, successfully avoiding any splatter. Mr. Ritter and his papers weren’t so lucky.

“I asked you a question, Miss Lane.”

How could he not know his shirt was now soaked? How could he not see the sogginess of the papers? How could he not smell that...her nose wrinkled...disgusting aroma? “She’s, uh, doing better. She’s home.”

“That’s good.” His tone lowered, and so did his gaze, landing on her breasts and staying. “That’s
very
good.”

Nicola’s hands curled into fists. “Was that all you wanted to see me about?”

A moment passed before he remembered she had a face. He leaned back in his seat and folded his hands over his middle, his expression stern. “Your performance today was subpar, but you know that. You angered several customers by ringing up their items two or three times—”

“But I always fixed the mistakes.”

“Nevertheless,” he continued smoothly, “I’m sure you’ll soon be asking me to take some time off to spend with your sister, and as you know, we don’t have anyone who can take your place. I’ll need to hire someone new. And if I hire someone new, why can’t that person just take
all
of your hours?”

A tide of dread washed over her, followed quickly by an intensified urge to run. But why run? she wondered now. The threat had already been issued, and this was her chance to offer a counter. So, once again she stayed put.

“I can promise that I’ll never have another day like today.” From now on, she would ignore the existence of the monkeys. That’s what the therapists had told her to do as a child, and it had worked. Right? “I won’t be asking for any days off, you have my word.”

The monkey began hopping up and down, screeching, and she had trouble distinguishing Mr. Ritter’s next words. “What if your sister gets sick again? What then? What if
you
get sick again?”

“It won’t matter. I’ll work.”

Lips pursed, he reached out and traced a fingertip over the photo of his wife and three children. “How badly do you want to keep this job?”

“Badly,” she said, leaning forward. “Is there something I can do? Take extra hours? You name it!”

His hand fell to his side. He grinned.

The monkey went quiet—and he, too, grinned.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” Mr. Ritter said, a disgusting gleam flickering in his eyes. “I want you to start by telling me how you’ll use your mouth on me, and end with how you’ll bend over my desk. Then I want you to do it.”

A moment passed in silence as her mind processed what she had just heard. He hadn’t... He couldn’t have... Oh, but he could, and he had. “You don’t have to fire me. I quit.” She stood and marched to the door. The knob held steady when she twisted. Anger mixed with frustration as she barked, “Let me out. Now.”

“I rigged the lock. I hope you don’t mind.” Smiling, Mr. Ritter pushed to his feet, walked around the desk. The monkey jumped to the floor and followed him, the pitter-patter of clawed footfalls resounding. “I’ve wondered what you’re like in bed, you know.”

She tried the knob again, but again, it held. Fear squeezed the air from her lungs, expunging all other emotions. She was trapped in this small room, and no one was out there to hear her cry for help.

“Let me out, Mr. Ritter.” There was a tremor in her voice, one she couldn’t hide. “If you try anything, I’ll fight you. You’ll be punished.”

“I want you to fight. Not that it’ll do you any good. But no...no, I won’t be punished. That I promise you.”