Beauty Awakened (Angels of the Dark) (14 page)

“Seeking a host, you said.”

He nodded. “And someone to torment, to feed from.”

“Is that what they want with me?”

“Yes. They want to pump you full of their poison, weakening your defenses against them, allowing them to slip past your skin and into your body. Once there, they fight to control your thoughts, your actions, all the while feeding off your negative emotions, infecting you with sickness.”

“Sickness,” she echoed.

“Yes, but there is a cure. To obtain it, the Most High fought and defeated Lucifer all over again.” That’s when the first of Koldo’s kind was created, tasked with escorting humans out of Lucifer’s darkness and into the Most High’s light.

Over the centuries, Sent Ones like Koldo had lost sight of their goal. But not anymore, he decided. He
would
help Nicola.

“What’s the cure? And why am I still sick?” Nicola asked.

“Every cure comes with instructions. You have yet to follow the right ones.”

A long while passed as she absorbed his words. Finally she said, “Well, tell me the instructions. I’m ready to follow them. Honest.”

Koldo was pleased by Nicola’s words. He might not wield the ring of truth as other Sent Ones, but even still, she heard the certainty of his claims. She believed. She accepted.

She wanted to act, and action was power.

“I gave you some of the instructions already,” he said. “The demons breathed their poison into your ear, sparking fear. You embraced that fear, and it strengthened the poison, and all too soon your emotions were feeding the demons. Calm, peace and joy cause the poison to weaken.”

“Hence the reason you want me to feel them.” She nodded as she spoke. “So...the poison is like a parasite. Or a virus. Like influenza or E. coli. It can grow, but it can also die.”

“Yes. If the demons cannot feed, they’ll flee. That’s why guarding your thoughts and words is so important.” Koldo lifted slightly and twisted, making room for his big body on the couch.

Nicola snuggled against him, surprising him—thrilling him. Her cheek rested against the quickening beat of his heart. He breathed her in, all that cinnamon and vanilla and honey.

And oh, heavens above, he was hot and cold at the same time. He trembled. He...wanted more. He wasn’t what she needed; he’d already realized that. His past being what it was, he had no right to console a female. He’d hurt too many. He deserved a whipping, a beating, not a caress. But he just couldn’t bring himself to move away.

“You’re so warm,” she said.

You’re so soft.

She reached up, her fingers again toying with the ends of his beard. “So even my thoughts matter?”

“Of course. Your thoughts can create a fiery storm or a peaceful sea.”

“But I can’t control—”

“You can. If the wrong thought comes, force yourself to think of something else.”
That’s good advice—why don’t you follow it, too?

She sighed. “What about the water you gave Laila?”

“It healed her body and cast the demon out of her, but what will happen if she’s attacked by other demons? Will she once again cave to the toxin and fear?”

“She had a demon
inside
her?”

“Yes.” Perhaps he should have broken that particular piece of news more gently.

Several moments passed in silence. “I had no idea. Was so ignorant.” A tremor raked her body, and warm tears soaked the fabric of his robe.

Tears? He had to see her face. Koldo palmed her waist, lifted her and parted her legs with his knee. She gasped as he settled her on his lap, and only then did he realize the sheer intimacy of the position.

He bit back a groan. Of pleasure. Of pain.

Of need. And regret.

“Frightened of me?” he rasped.
Of this.
He would rather die than cause the same reaction as her boss.

“No.” Her eyes were watery, glassed over, but the tears had stopped. “I’ve just... I’ve never been in this position before.”

Never?

A sense of possessiveness filled him, hotter than fire, more lethal than a flood. “Do you have any other questions for me?”

“I do.” She hooked her fingers over the collar of his robe and rubbed, as if she experienced the same compulsion to touch. Her skin brushed against his, cool where he was overheated, soft where he was calloused.

Must wrap my arms around her and urge her closer...closer still...then mesh my lips against hers...kiss her...savor her. Devour her.

He didn’t. One thought stopped him. He couldn’t put his filthy, ugly lips on so innocent a female.

But...what if he did it anyway? What if he gave in? What if she liked it?

Temptation had arrived, he realized, whispering so prettily.

He resisted. Her fragile heart would give out from too much stimulation in one day. And maybe, just maybe, so would his.

“I’ll answer one,” he croaked. “Just one. I don’t want to overload you.”

She thought for a moment, nodded. “Do the demons look like little monkeys?”

Two circuits seemed to connect in his mind, and he frowned. There was only one way she could have known what one of the lowest-ranking demons looked like. “You saw the one in the office?”

“Him and many others. Two have even been hanging around Laila,” she admitted shakily.

Yes, he’d seen those two. One had been inside her. The other was his “friend.” They ran away every time Koldo neared. “They’ll continue to return to her as long as she feeds them.”

Tension radiated from her. “And if we’re attacked by others?”

Koldo would sense it. But...what if he didn’t...or what if he couldn’t get to her? “Call upon the Most High. He’ll send whoever’s closest to help you.” Germanus would never be as powerful as the Most High, and wouldn’t hear a human’s cries. More than that, he was limited in the number of troops he could send.

“How do you know that for sure?”

“He promised to rescue every human who calls upon Him, and He always keeps His promises.”

“Every human. Even me?”

His brows furrowed into his hairline—or what had once been his hairline. “Are you human?”

“Har, har. You know that I am. Wait. I am, right?”

Do not smile.
“You are. And now, I’m ending this conversation.” For both their sakes. “There are chores to be done, and hopefully I’m man enough to do them.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

N
ICOLA
WATCHED
as Koldo stalked through her entire house, fixing everything that was broken, reinforcing the locks on the windows and doors, and even flashing in and out to stock her cabinets and refrigerator with food. All the while, she reeled.

The monsters she’d seen as a child were real.

Demons had poisoned her and her sister.

The guy she couldn’t stop thinking about wasn’t even human.

She focused on him—the least complicated. Was he naturally bald or had he shaved his head? There was no hint of stubble on his scalp, which led her to believe there were no follicles. But that hardly mattered. As beautiful as he was, he had no need of hair.

And now that she knew what his back looked like under his robe, she found him more than beautiful; she found him breathtaking. Running parallel to both sides of his spine was scar tissue about twelve inches long and four inches thick. At one point in his life, he’d had wings. Something or someone—a demon?—had cut them out. Now, crimson ink branched from both scars, forming glorious wings. The design was so amazingly detailed, each individual feather accounted for. And the muscles underneath those tattoos...sweet mercy.

How could a man who looked as fierce as he did be so kind? Or were the man and the Sent One intertwined? Could there not be one without the other?

And what about the smoldering fire in his eyes? Did it spring from a place of danger? Or desire?

He finished stocking her cabinets and leaned against the half wall between her kitchen and living room. He folded his arms over his chest and nodded. “So you
do
know how to relax.”

Har-har. “If you want to pamper me, I’m going to let you pamper me.”

“Actually, I want to question you. Why do you work so hard?”

What he was really asking: Why do you work so hard, yet live in such squalor? “Medical bills” was all she said.

He opened his mouth, closed it, then pushed out a heavy breath. “I want to pay your bills,” he said hesitantly, probably expecting her to fly off the couch and attack him for daring to suggest such a thing.

As if such a kind proposition would offend her. “I wasn’t hinting or anything like that,” she said with a smile. “And wait a second. You have money?”

“
A lot
of money. Sent Ones are rewarded for our work. And I would like nothing more than to do this.”

“But—”

“I’d planned to pay your bills one way or another. This way, I can take the past-due notices stacked in the basket you’ve labeled Doom with your knowledge rather than stealing them and perhaps earning myself a punishment.”

To have such a huge financial weight lifted from her shoulders...to no longer live in fear of losing her house, having her utilities turned off, to be able to afford real Hostess Twinkies rather than a dry knockoff...

“Oh, Koldo.” She leaped from the couch and threw herself against him. At first, he was stiff. After a few seconds, however, he softened and wrapped his arms around her. “Yes, yes, a thousand times yes. I accept. You’re welcome, by the way,” she teased in an effort to mask her trembling chin. “I mean, I’m such a giver, unwilling to allow you to be punished.”

He snorted, and it was such a gorgeous sound. “This pleases you, then? Makes you happy.”

“It does.” Her heart thundered in her chest in a
boom, boom, boom
rhythm. “I know I should feel guilty, too, like I’m using you for your money or something, but I just can’t summon the emotion.”

He stiffened all over again, saying, “If you feel a shred of guilt, I will rescind my offer.”

“You heard the part about being unable to summon the emotion, right? And you’re loaded, aren’t you? That’s what ‘a lot’ means, right?”

“Yes, I’m loaded,” he said, the stiffness leaving him.

Of course he was. A dreamy sigh left her. “You have to be the sexiest male I’ve ever met.” Beauty, brains and megabucks.

He stilled.

Her words echoed in her mind, and she almost groaned. No. No, no, no. She hadn’t just said that aloud. She couldn’t have said that aloud. “I mean, you have to be the
sweetest
man I’ve ever met.”

He peered down at her, silent.

“You consider me sexy?” he finally asked.

She had. She really had said it aloud. Heat filled her cheeks. To hide, she buried her face in the hollow of his neck. “What would you do if I said yes?” He might have touched her today, might have held her close, but she hadn’t forgotten what he’d said.
I don’t want you in that way
.

“I would tell you...that you have had a very eventful evening, and that you will have to wait until tomorrow.” His voice was gruff. “I would show you my reaction then.”

And just what, exactly, would he show her?

Her heart fluttered as he set her away from him and strode to her kitchen table, where the Basket of Doom waited. He lifted it high—and it disappeared.

She blinked, saying, “Uh, what just happened?”

“I placed the items inside a pocket of air.”

She closed the distance between them and reached up, trying to feel the spot where the basket had last been seen, but she was too short. Even when she jumped. And jumped again.

His lips twitched at the corners. “Is there a problem?”

“Do
not
crack a short joke, Gigantor.”

“Very well. Allow me.” Koldo wrapped his big hands around her waist.

The strength of his grip wrung a startled gasp from her, though he was nothing but gentle as he lifted her off her feet. She palpated the air. “There’s nothing solid,” she said, amazed.

“The pocket is a small doorway between the spirit realm and the natural.” Slowly he set her back down.

“Realm?”

“One for your world, and one for mine.”

“That’s so cool.” She turned, intending to return to the couch.

He reached out and cupped the back of her neck, forcing her to stay. No, doing more than that. Tugging her deeper into the hard line of his body. Heat rolled through her, and she gave another gasp.

“Don’t be afraid. Am I strong enough to force myself on you? Yes. Will I? No.” His gaze pierced all the way to her soul. “I’ll never hurt you, Nicola.”

“I know,” she said, and shivered. He was so intense. She flattened her palms on his chest, on the softness of his robe, the hardness of his muscles.

“I told myself I wouldn’t do this while the memory of what happened today is so fresh. But then I got my hands on you.” He leaned down, coming closer and closer, his lips soon a whisper away from hers. “Now I have a desire to replace the bad with the good. It’s a desire I no longer want to resist.”

Can’t quite catch my breath.
“I like...the way you think.”

“Then we should start over. Do you find me sexy?”

She gulped, softly admitted, “Yes.”

Just like that, his pupils expanded, black consuming gold. “Very well. My reaction.” He lowered his head and pressed his mouth against hers, the contact soft at first, noninvasive, and yet still her head spun. Then he lifted his head and peered into her eyes. Whatever he saw must have encouraged him because he once again lowered. This time, his tongue flicked out, tasting her, and he moaned. Eager for more, she opened for him.

He swooped in, angling his head, hesitantly rolling his tongue against hers. At the moment of contact, a cascade of heat melted her bones, and she sank into him, her body suddenly smashed against his.

The force of the kiss increased, quickened.

This was... This was...

“Good,” he rasped, and she wasn’t sure whether he was asking a question or commanding her to like it.

“Perfect.” But
perfect
hardly seemed adequate.

Magnificent. Heady. Exquisite.
No, they weren’t good enough, either.

Her tongue met his, thrust for thrust, her fingers sliding through his beard, locking behind his neck, kneading of their own accord.

The horror of the day faded. Mr. Ritter ceased to exist. There was only this moment and Koldo. He’d been right. She’d needed something good to wipe away the bad.

“Am I hurting you?” he asked, and there was something in his tone. Something she’d never heard before. Vulnerability, perhaps.

“No. Promise.”

“Not giving you enough?”

“You’re giving me plenty.”

He lifted his head. Lines of tension branched from his eyes and mouth, and a bead of sweat rolled down his temple. “My blood is heating, practically in flames already.”

“Mine, too.”

“You were pleased?”

“Very.” Was he...unsure of his performance? Was that the problem?

Back down he went, not just kissing her but consuming her. His big hands roved over her back, up and down, up and down, then rode the ridges of her spine. As strong as he was, he managed to keep the touches light.

“Koldo, I want... I need...” More.

“Nicola,” Laila called, her voice cutting through the tension.

Koldo jolted, then set her away from him, looked away from her and rolled his shoulders, as if he had wings he wanted to flare.

“I’ll be back,” he said tightly.

Wait. What? No! “Where are you going?”

He ignored her, saying, “I’m commanding you to take the day off tomorrow. To rest.”

“I will. But—”

“No. No buts. There will be no arguments. Remember?”

He was using their bargain against her, she realized. So, what else could she say, but, “Don’t worry about me. I’ll remain calm, be at peace and sow joy.” Her voice was trembling. “And thank you. For everything.”

He nodded, but the action was stiff. “Do us both a favor and guard your thoughts, your words.”

“I will.”

“Good.” He nodded again, glanced at her lips, stepped toward her—took another step and vanished.

Her heart skipped a beat.

“Co Co?”

What am I going to do with that man?
“Coming, La La.”

She raced into the bedroom on unsteady legs, only to grind to a halt, everything else suddenly forgotten. The sight that greeted her brought a fresh round of tears to her eyes. Her beautiful sister was here, home, and totally lucid. She was sitting up, with blond hair tangled around her delicate shoulders. Her color was healthier than before and bright, her gray eyes sparkling.

Nicola had never thought to have this again.

“Who’s here? Because, whoever he is, I like his voice. Very rough, very intense,” Laila said, rubbing the sleep from her eyes before wiggling her brows. “Very hubba hubba.”

Just how much should she tell her? Nicola wondered. How much could Laila take right now, when she had believed nothing else Nicola had said on the matter?

Did the answers really matter? If Koldo was going to teach Laila how to survive, and he was, the two would have to come to an arrangement.

Nicola drew in a deep breath. “What do you know about angels and demons?” she asked.

* * *

K
OLDO
FLASHED
TO
the cave where he’d stashed his mother, remaining on the outskirts of the door to the cavern. He listened. Along with a drip and flow of water, he could hear Cornelia muttering about how much she hated him.

“—rotten to the core, just like his father. Lives only to make me suffer.”

He ground his teeth together. How could she see him that way? Not now—she had every reason now—but before, when he’d been such an innocent little boy, so desperate for her affection. After all these centuries, he’d still never figured it out.

He’d made the mistake of asking her only once.

Everything about you disgusts me! You’re evil. An abomination. But you know that already. I’ve told you.

A thousand times or more. But I’m innocent. Blood of your blood.

You carry my shame, nothing more.

His hands curled into fists. What would Nicola think of him now, standing here as a woman suffered at his hands? Nicola, who had enjoyed touching him. Nicola, who had looked at him as if he were worthy. Nicola, who had kissed him with such passion and asked for more.

He’d had her in his arms. He’d had her body pressed against his and her scent in his nose. He’d felt the thunderous pound of her heartbeat. Need had created a wild tempest inside him, undeniable, nearly uncontrollable.

His hands had begun to burn just as fiercely as his blood, as if coming to life for the first time. Rather than sinking into a pit of despair—
bloodstained hands on a woman who deserved better
—he’d reveled in the knowledge. Sent Ones produced essentia, a fine powder that waited underneath the surface of their skin. Koldo’s had never broken free.

Soon, that would change. If he continued along this path, it would soon seep through his pores, leaving a bright glow on whatever he wished, a gold only those in the spirit realm would be able to see. It would be a warning to demons.
Touch what’s mine, and suffer.

Had her sister not interrupted...

Well, he wouldn’t think about that now. He flashed to Nicola’s home, landing in the backyard. His mother had enough food and water to last a week. He wouldn’t abandon her that long, but he would give her another few days to herself. How many times had she left him in the palace, taking the servants with her? Countless. At six years old, he’d had to hunt and kill his own food to survive. She deserved this abandonment and more.

And he wouldn’t feel guilty for the way he was treating her. He wouldn’t!

He searched the yard for any sign of thieves—either human or demon—and thankfully found none. As he walked past the bedroom window, a crack in the curtains allowed him a peek inside. He paused.

Nicola and Laila were sitting on the bed. Both females had their hair wound into a thick bun, and green goop covering their faces. They were talking and laughing and painting each other’s toenails. They paused every few minutes to pick up a pillow and smack each other.

The males he’d overhead throughout the years had been right, then. Every time two human females got together, they had a pillow fight.

Such a circumstance had never before intrigued him. Now his attention remained riveted on Nicola. She was as relaxed and happy as he needed her to be. And she was utterly enchanting. The storm had settled in her eyes, leaving a bright morning light. A perfect, cloudless sky.