Ember (16 page)

Draven scowled and made his way to the cabinet, holding the drinks. “Oh, come on, Sebastian,” he started as he poured a drink and waved a glass at Candra. She shook her head. “Don’t tell me you’ve never used a little persuasion?” With his freshly filled glass in hand, Draven turned and leaned his toned ass against the edge of the mahogany wood.

“Persuasion?” she mumbled, more to herself than anyone else.

“I have nev—” Sebastian cut himself short, and when Candra looked to him, his eyes were suddenly downcast.

Persuasion…Oh, no
. Candra shot Sebastian a look that could freeze water as her brain wrapped around what she was hearing now. It made sense; it explained her desire for Draven—not entirely, she was pretty sure some of that was her—but Sebastian…

“Tut, tut,” Draven chided, jeering Sebastian.

“The park,” she choked out.

“It was an accident,” he started apologetically. “It just happened.”

“You mind fucked me!” Candra exclaimed, her frustration boiling over. She combed her hair away from her face with both hands. That explained why she wanted to kiss him that day. So much for the angels being all about free will.

“It wasn’t like that,” Sebastian tried to excuse with an edge of bitterness in his voice.

“What was it then, Sebastian? Please feel free to share?” Draven baited him gleefully and finished with a quiet snicker that made it clear he was enjoying this.

“You, be quiet,” Candra warned him, and then turned on Sebastian. “And you, tell me, what was it? You poked around inside my head and played with my synapses. What would you call it? Gah…I almost kissed you!” she exclaimed, cupping her face in her hands. “Okay, that is it…kill him, Draven. I really don’t care.”

She heard the click of Draven’s glass on the counter, and the one quick movement was enough to bring her back to her senses.

“Wait.” She held her hands up again, keeping her eyes on the floor. She really didn’t want to look at either of them right now. “You did it too, Draven. So just go ahead and kill each other.” Candra took a single step before she halted again. She knew she couldn’t really stand there and watch them kill each other. Right in that moment, she wanted to, but she couldn’t.

“Wait.” Candra dipped her head forward again and rubbed her face with her hands, moving them upward to massage her scalp. “As much as I would like the idea now, it won’t solve anything for me. I need to sleep. I need to think, and I need to sleep.” She sighed wearily.
Being a weapon of mass destruction sure takes it out of a person.

“I’ll take you home.” Candra felt Sebastian’s soft hands over hers, pulling them away from her face, and she looked up to him.

His wings were gone, and he looked at her with such beautiful sadness in his eyes that she found it hard to breathe. His jaw was tense, the muscles twitching when he swallowed. She had an intense desire to embrace him, not only to comfort him, but to seek her own comfort. This whole situation might be messed up, but it didn’t change the fact that she was, at least, part human and still needed the comfort of a hug when it felt like the entire world was resting on her shoulders. But she was afraid. She was afraid he would reject her afterward like he did the night of the party, and it would feel worse later if he held her now. She wasn’t sure her already battered heart could take it.

Candra presumed her confusion must have been written on her face, because he released her hands. They fell slack by her side, and she already missed his touch. She was sure that it was no angelic persuasion or her imagination.

“Let’s go,” he said softly, forcing a weak smile for her benefit.

Candra wondered when she had allowed Sebastian to slip under her skin. She was so angry at him for not telling the truth, for following her, for rejecting her. Why should she care if he continually turned from her? It wasn’t like the prospect of being with Draven was abhorrent to her. There was no denying he was charming, attractive, witty. He would be well-read, and he clearly cared for the people he was responsible for. As far as limited choices went, he wasn’t a bad option. But the idea of not being with Sebastian, of never being with him, of knowing without doubt that it could never be…it gave her the strangest feeling in her chest—an ache and emptiness. Not like the one she’d felt with Draven earlier. This was different, and she didn’t know how or why.

She turned slowly, keeping her eyes trained on the parquet floor, and followed Sebastian.

“I’ll see you soon, Candra,” Draven said assuredly, and when Candra peeked up at him, he raised his glass with a sexy smile. He knew she would be back, and somehow she knew it too.

“Goodbye, Draven,” she whispered.

Sebastian said no farewell.

He guided Candra silently through the sumptuous corridor of a clearly high-end apartment building. There were several heavy wooden doors like the one in the ballroom, carved wooden moldings, and tapestries on the walls like the ones Candra had seen earlier, only this time the images weren’t blurred. She realized then that Draven, or maybe Ananchel, had been keeping her from seeing them, and she understood why.

There were scenes of battles, winged creatures flinging themselves unto death—all bare-chested and beautiful, brandishing swords. One showed a child lying wasted on the ground, blood seeping from an angry gaping wound to its chest, its plump heart exposed through mangled bone. One of the winged creatures stood over it, a sword in one hand and the other hand held aloft, triumphantly. The creature wore a long skirt of some white, blood-stained fabric that clung to her curves like liquid silk and only long black hair covered her breasts. Candra looked closer and felt the bile gurgle in her stomach. It was Brie. She didn’t look at anymore after that.

Candra’s head pounded as if a sledgehammer was trying to break into her brain through her skull, and her throat itched. Eventually, after a seemingly endless elevator journey, they came out into the late evening, to a street where traffic buzzed up and down, the people completely unaware they were in the presence of angels. She looked up to the building to see that her hypothesis was correct and it was indeed an apartment building that looked just like every other apartment building on the long, chaotically busy street. Candra winced at the sound of a horn screeching as it passed. She was already beginning to feel the full force of the liquor.

“Do you have to shout?” She grimaced when Sebastian called for a cab that didn’t stop.

“You shouldn’t drink,” Sebastian reprimanded her as she rubbed her temples, ineffectively attempting to sooth the spreading pain.

“You shouldn’t fight,” Candra snapped back.

He frowned and pursed his lips, sucking in a mouthful of air and lifting his hand to stop another of the blue cabs. “Yes, well…I have experience fighting.”

Candra folded her arms over her chest tightly, simply refusing to get into another argument. She really didn’t have the energy.

What in the name of everything that was rotten in this forsaken city was the problem with getting a cab when you needed one? Sebastian could say that, forsaken, because he knew it to be true.

He could see Candra was tired, or drained might have been a more fitting word. Draven had influenced her for so long that her body had exhausted its energy fighting off his influence. She needed to sleep; she needed to refuel, and for that, he needed to get her home—which he couldn’t do if he couldn’t get a cab. His wing would need attention too. It was okay for now while concealed, but Sebastian wasn’t relishing the prospect of extending it to heal the damage Draven had inflicted. He suspected it was fractured and berated himself for letting his guard down, for allowing his emotions to control him in the heat of battle, because this was the result, and he should have known better.

He would have happily killed Draven today to stop her from seeing the real him, Sebastian, and what he was capable of; he just didn’t understand why. Candra could have handled the truth from the beginning, and if only he had gone with his gut instinct and not selfishly allowed his tender ego to panic him, it would have been him instead of Draven who told her the truth. He could have controlled it, let her know slowly, kept the things from her that he knew would hurt. He had been blinded by rage when he saw Candra leaving with Ananchel, irrationally so, but was powerless to stop her because he knew she would never stop until she got to the truth. It was one of the things he both admired and hated about her.

He should have waited for Candra to return and dealt with the repercussions then, but he was never the most patient of his kind. Thinking about patience brought him back to thinking about cabs. He was on the verge of carrying Candra back to the townhouse himself, something he knew would be met with vigorous opposition, when a cab pulled to a stop directly in front of them.

As soon as they were inside, Candra leaned her head against the side window, with her long bangs falling across her face, partially concealing her eyes, and slept. Although he considered she might be faking, he couldn’t fault her for not wanting to talk to him. Sebastian wasn’t sure what Draven had told her, though he could hazard a fairly accurate guess at most of it: basically everything they had withheld from her since she discovered who she was.
Well, now she knows everything important, the entire, sordid history. It has to make me a monster in her eyes.

Sebastian had known Draven would want Candra, but he now believed he’d underestimated how much and the lengths to which Draven would go to get her. The game was on, and the prize was the girl. Candra was obviously disturbed by what she had seen and heard. Even in sleep, a delicate rosy color flushed her cheeks below her chocolate-and-toffee colored hair. She frowned, and two vertical lines formed between her eyebrows. His stomach knotted at the idea that Draven would win and Brie would lose Candra, because Draven wouldn’t allow Brie to join him, even though she was fallen. Draven would want Candra kept separate and dependent on only him for affection in his bid to win her over.

Candra was responsible and strong-willed. If she believed she could prevent a repeat of the atrocities Draven described, she would. Once Sebastian’s existence had changed irrevocably: he had given up everything for a cause he’d believed in when he led the army here. He broke heaven’s laws and killed Nephilim in the name of humanity. It was changed again the day he realized Candra was one of them, and he never for a split second considered killing her—not for the tiniest measurement of time. Sebastian knew with everything in him that he’d had to protect her then and he had to protect her now—her and Brie. He had to keep them together, no matter what.

“That went as well as can be expected,” Ananchel said lightly and closed the door to Draven’s apartment.

Draven watched them from the window as Sebastian jostled Candra into the cab, practically having to carry her. He felt a twinge of guilt at the idea that he may have gone overboard serving her brandy, but she had requested it.

“I’m sorry about earlier,” Draven said to Ananchel. When it came down to it, Ananchel was his best friend.

He couldn’t seem to take his eyes off the street below and the angry beeping cars, their drivers vying for position on the road. They were filled with rage against everything: the lights, the other cars, road works, pedestrians…

Ananchel came to stand beside Draven, looking down to see what he was watching. “Tut.” She shrugged, crossing her arms and drumming the nails of one hand. “Draven, it is not the first time you’ve had to correct me, and it won’t be the last. You know me; I never know when enough is enough, and this is too important to mess up.”