God of Destruction (28 page)

His lips were moving over her bruised lips,
and she didn’t know how to react, other than to push him away with
the hands she had placed on his chest.

He staggered back shamefully, letting his
eyes fall to the floor. “M—my apologies, my lady. I did not…I was
not…”

Ziba let her fingertips prod her sore lips.
A kiss. Bomani had kissed her…Bomani had desired her. She had
finally gotten a taste of the other side of life that she had
wished for so badly.

There were so many things that could go
wrong, so many people that could catch them, and they could be
stoned if they were found.

But she had wanted this so badly.

“
Bomani,” she said, halting the stammering
mess that the great hero, Lord Bomani, had become.

“
I should not have,” he finally
mumbled.

“
Bomani!”

He couldn’t meet her eyes after what he had
done, so she closed the distance between them herself.

Ziba kissed him back.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Northern France; June 30
^th
, 2012

Meanwhile, Kierlan and James searched the
banks of the River Seine for any sign of the missing girls.

“Check the water, they couldn’t have gotten
far!” James ordered, throwing himself to the ground. When searching
under the car proved useless, he stood, running in any direction
they could have gone.

Kierlan turned away from the dark depths of
the waters before him, knowing there was no way in hell he was
jumping in there. His eyes fell on Taran first, seated in the
passenger’s seat with his legs hanging out the door. He was the
picture of ease, twiddling his thumbs while he sat bent over his
knees, a smile fixed across his face for the first time since
Kierlan had first seen him.

Narrowing his eyes, Kierlan strode toward the
car, cracking his knuckles.

Taran didn’t see it coming when Kierlan
grasped the front of his shirt, heaving him viciously from the car
and off his feet. Suddenly, his back hit the back door, the cold
leeching through the fabric of his borrowed shirt. “What the
hell—?!” he growled, his pleasant demeanor falling away. The larger
man glowered down at him, melting away the last of Taran’s rage as
well.

Guilt shone behind Taran’s wide eyes as they
ogled up at the thief.

“You know where they are!” Kierlan accused,
turning the full force of his rage onto the man in his grasp.

Taran said nothing, shaking him off.

Kierlan let him fall to the ground, running
his hands over his shaved head while he fought off the urge to
throttle the assassin. “Why?” he bellowed.

James abruptly ran back into view. “What’s
going on?”

“He knows where they are,” Kierlan said,
shoving Taran into the car.

Taran shook his head vehemently. “I don’t. I
don’t know where they are, that’s why I sent them in the first
place.”

“What?!” James bellowed.

“Sent them?” Kierlan said. “You sent two
teenage girls into a situation where they’d have
no way
to
protect themselves?”

“They
wanted
to go!” he insisted,
narrowly avoiding a punch in the face.

Kierlan’s fist hit the metal of the car. “Of
course they
thought
they did! That doesn’t mean we should
let
them run into a dangerous situation!”

“You have no
idea
what you’ve
done
—!” James roared, crossing his arms. His palms tingled
with the promise of blue lightning, a feeling difficult to
suppress, especially when he was so angry.

Taran rolled his eyes. “Of course I do! It’s
all you talk about. Some things are just more important!”

James scowled, hearing his own words in
Taran’s statement. “More important than the welfare of the planet?
What could possibly be more important than
that
?!”

“It doesn’t matter,” he countered through
clenched teeth. “Sending them in will serve both our motives.”

Kierlan stepped away, wishing he’d never
signed on to this mission. Worse than that, he wished he wouldn’t
have to feel what he felt now for the first time in his life. He
should have been happy with Taran’s intervention. He’d managed to
do exactly what Kierlan was supposed to do. Exactly what he was
finding himself unable to do:

Deliver Claire to Natalia.

Now that his job was done, he should be
happy. He’d be getting paid soon. But, he didn’t want money. His
chest ached, pulled tighter than ever before.

He just wanted to rescue the naïve girl.

He was broken out of his reverie by James’s
objection.

“Impossible! All you’ve done since you got
here is serve
Mainyu’s
motive. There’s no telling what he’ll
do now that he has them both! What were you thinking?” James
couldn’t help but turn away, rubbing the crackling electricity from
his flesh.

“Alex—” Taran began, averting his gaze.

The angel spun back in Taran’s direction, his
fist pulled back to strike; his palms heated up, glowing blue.
“Alex! That’s another thing! Not only did you sell out our last
hope of exiling Angra Mainyu, you might have killed the love of my
life in the process! You don’t understand the severity of the—”

The shrill cry of a cell phone interrupted
his monologue.

The three men glanced quickly across each
other’s faces, waiting for the owner to answer. When no one moved
to do so, Taran cleared his throat, forcing himself to feel less
intimidated by the fury aimed at him. “Answer it,” he squeaked,
pulling at his, already-loose, shirt collar. “It’s probably
Alex.”

“How do you know that?” James growled,
letting the phone in question screech in his pocket.

“Answer it! Before she loses her chance!”
Taran snarled.

Needing no other incentive than that, James
flipped open the cell phone from his back pocket, seeing an
unfamiliar number flash across the screen.

He took the call. “Hello?”

No answer.

“Hello?” he repeated, louder the second time.
When he still received no answer but the static, he put his thumb
over the button to hang up.

“Citchumns,” a voice crackled between the
hisses of bad reception.

“What?” he asked. “Alex?”

“Citchicumbs,” it whispered.

“You’re breaking up,” James said. “Baby?
Alex? Are you there?”

After a long moment, her voice screamed
through the static. “Catacombs!”

The men looked to each other, already pulling
themselves into the car. “We’re coming, baby,” James vowed,
throwing himself into the backseat. “Stay on the line with me. Are
you alright?”

“Where’s Claire?” Kierlan interjected,
throwing the car into drive.

Alex didn’t answer.

Instead, the harsh accent of a woman they
were all familiar with met their ears like razorblades. “A phone?!
I will
kill
you!”

The line suddenly went dead.

“No,” James gasped, calling it back several
times with no success. “No. No! If she dies, I’ll fry you,
Taran!”

“She’s not dead,” Kierlan said. “Natalia
wouldn’t take her if she didn’t need her for something.”

“You know Natalia?” Taran inquired
innocently.

Kierlan twitched when he realized his
mistake.

Unfortunately for him, James realized it too.
“
How
do you know Natalia, Kierlan?”

He couldn’t come up with a lie fast enough.
“I—?”

James couldn’t help but give out a harsh
chuckle. “I knew it,” he murmured.

“No!” Kierlan interjected. “James—”

“A private I? After Russell?” he mocked, a
menacing smile splitting his face. “You’ve been working with them
this entire time, haven’t you?”

“No!” Kierlan insisted, keeping his face
directed entirely on the road.

“Shut up!” James yelled, his voice painfully
loud against the ceiling. “You’re caught! Now tell me how much
you’re getting paid to keep us from Claire and Alex!”

“It’s,” Kierlan paused, swerving to avoid an
oncoming car he’d drifted into the path of. “It’s not like
that.”

“What’s it like, then?” the angel snapped,
gripping the seat.

The car raced down the street to the
soundtrack of blaring horns, and, though he couldn’t die when he
was technically already dead, James urged the driver to go easy on
the car, if only to remain unnoticed by the authorities. He didn’t
know what would happen if they were brought into custody in a
foreign country. He wasn’t eager to find out. “Slow down!”

“You wanna find ‘em or not?” Kierlan
challenged.

Taran’s head hit the glass beside him…again.
Glowering up at the larger man, he muttered, “What do you
care?”

“Alright, listen!” the driver roared. “I’m
taking you to the catacombs because I’m going to help you save
Claire and Alex. That’s the
only
reason! And if you have a
problem with me, then save it ‘til this is over!”

James’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t believe
you.”

“I don’t care if you believe me or not! I’m
here to help and you can’t stop me.”

“Why would you do that?” Taran demanded.

Kierlan gulped. He didn’t know what to say;
he could answer it to himself. Finally, after moments of
contemplation and in voice that didn’t sound convincing, even to
himself, he clarified, “This whole…thing…has just been blown out of
proportion. I didn’t sign on to start the apocalypse, I was just
supposed to steal from a museum,” Taran’s eye twitched, “and bring
Claire to the catacombs. Besides, it’d be pretty hard to spend that
money when the world’s come to an end.”

James nodded, biting his tongue. “I…I guess
that makes sense. After all this, though, I don’t think I can trust
you.”

“What other choice do you have?” Kierlan
demanded incredulously. He jerked the steering wheel in the
direction of the street they’d occupied this morning.

James nodded. “You’re right.”

Silence passed between them for the rest of
the journey. As the entrance of the catacombs came into view, James
broke the silence. “Why didn’t you do it?”

“Do what?” Kierlan asked, pulling up to the
curb a few blocks down when he noticed guards at the threshold to
the underground.

“Why didn’t you bring Claire to Natalia?”

Kierlan shifted uncomfortably. “I tried, but
Russell brought us back to the hotel. He wanted to deliver all of
you at once.”

“But…” James trailed off. Something still
wasn’t adding up. “I left you alone with them for
hours
,”—internally, he mused,
stupid, stupid,
stupid
—“and you didn’t even try—?”

“No,” he barked. “I didn’t.”

“But, you had the perfect chance—?”

Kierlan threw a withering glance back at
James, urging him to let the conversation end with this. “But I
didn’t. I was supposed to. I was being paid a
lot
of money
to. But I didn’t. I just…I couldn’t bring that girl to that
monster
. She was like a kid, and I couldn’t put her in
danger like that. Even for money.”

James smiled. “Glad to have you on board,
let’s go.” The angel threw the door open, ready to take on the
mortals guarding the catacombs.

Taran hung behind, placing his hand on
Kierlan’s shoulder to keep him firmly in place. When James was out
of earshot, Taran’s dead face met Kierlan’s startled expression.
“You put her in that prison, didn’t you?”

“Who?” Kierlan asked, staring down at the
hand on his shoulder.

“The girl with the pictures. Janie.”

Guilt washed over Kierlan in a way he’d never
felt before, but he didn’t let it show on his face. Breathlessly,
he muttered, “Yes.”

If possible, Taran’s face fell further. He
paused, mouth opening and closing as he contemplated his next
words. Finally, he deadpanned, “She’s dying. Because of you.”

Kierlan shook his head. “No, she’s dying
because of Natalia. I haven’t touched her since I brought her into
that place.”

“To die.”

“I didn’t have a choice!” Kierlan swore.

“No choice? Unless it’s a cute blonde, right?
Then you can do whatever the hell you want, right?” Taran spat
venomously.

Kierlan exhaled slowly, clenching and
unclenching his fists. “She had pictures I needed. If she’d given
them up, I wouldn’t have had to—!”

“I don’t care
why you did it
!” Taran
growled, pushing his door open and stepping out to begin their last
adventure.

Over his shoulder, he exclaimed, “If she
dies, so do you!”

Chapter Twenty-Five

629 B.C.

Deep in her mind, Ziba thought their first
kiss would be enough. Once she knew what it felt like to be loved,
she fully intended to denounce any of her deepest, selfish wants
and desires. She would go back to the endless hours of prayer she
was accustomed to. She would beg Kurshid for forgiveness. She would
never stray again.

Unfortunately, as time went on, she realized
that it was virtually impossible for her to go on with her life as
expected.

Bomani had left for his army’s base camp a
day’s journey outside the city just a few hours after their tryst
in the temple, giving her one last kiss before he said his
goodbyes. It had been a bittersweet affair, but Ziba tried her
hardest to forget about him. It consoled her that even if he could
stay, she couldn’t keep him. Sadly, the memory of his sweet words
haunted her dreams when she slept and lingered in her mind when she
woke. The feeling of his lips, even sweeter still, burned hers.