Ruin Box Set (21 page)

Ruin raced his hands all over her, needing to feel her silky skin even as she fell off  him and collapsed onto her back on the bed. With a hungry growl, Ruin rolled on top of her, stroking his cock between her thighs, pinning her neck with his hand and kissing her. He loved the feel of her pulse, the hard thudding as it raced out of control, telling him how well he’d done.

He’d done very well.

Her fingers were in his hair again, her legs opening, wrapping his hips until his erection pressed against hot folds. He stroked her tongue with his, groaning into her mouth, tempted to get to that right in that second. Soon enough. He needed to see her in other ways first. And before it was over, she’d get on top of him like he’d seen the two on television do. It made him think of so many possibilities and positions and angles, wondering how each would feel.

“Now, Ruin. Make love to me.”

The power inside him erupted in a fury and Ruin fought the sudden feeling of . . . anger. Make love?

“What’s wrong?” she whispered, sounding concerned as she filled his lips with tiny breathless kisses still. “What’s wrong?”

“I . . . ” Ruin suddenly felt ill and rolled off of her. “I don’t know.” He sat on the edge of the bed and put his head in his hands.

“Ruin, your tattoo . . . ”

Ruin looked down and stood in alarm at finding the tattoo smoldering with black smoke. He hurried to the bathroom and barely made it to the toilet before he vomited. It was time. “I have to go, Isadore.”

Chapter Ten

She was suddenly behind him. “Go where?”

“The assignment. I have to go now.”

“
We
have to,” she reminded him.

He nodded, remembering, hating that part.

“I’ll get dressed and we’ll get it done, come back and that’s it, okay?” She reached and stroked his face and he moved her hand off.

“I need to think.”

“Okay,” she said quietly. But Ruin heard the pain in her voice and . . .  he wanted to make it worse. He felt sick again and turned to the toilet, throwing up everything in his guts.

“Why are you throwing up?”

“I don’t fucking know! Get away from me.” Hate and loathe coursed through him. He went to the sink and rinsed his face with cold water then turned, feeling confused. He needed to dress. What room was he in? Spying her purse, he assumed hers and hurried to his own to get dressed.

He exited and Isadore stood outside his door, waiting. Not wanting to look at her for reasons he couldn’t explain, he turned right out of his door, passing the truck. There was a hard urge to walk that he couldn’t resist.

Did that mean the assignment wasn’t far? He hoped not. Ruin wanted to get it over with. He didn’t want to think about why this judgment was different and how. He didn’t want to think about what was bad about it. And he especially didn’t want to think about how eager and hungry he was to do it or the fact that he could barely stand the sight and smell of Isadore now.

****

Isadore couldn’t help it. She was downright scared, and not showing it was getting pretty darn hard and her quirks stepped up to help with that as she counted Ruin’s brisk steps through the dark. “Slow down! Do I have to be with you or not? You’re going to lose me on foot. Jesus.”

He spun to her and pointed. “
No
God talk on this mission!”

She came to an abrupt halt at seeing his face, his eyes. The tattoos seemed to have spread into half his face, and one of his eyes appeared . . .  “Don’t move!” She ran to catch up to him and he glared at her with . . .  “One of your eyes is . . . oh my God, purple!”

He merely growled at her like an animal and spun away, forcing Isadore nearly to skip walk to keep up. Fifteen minutes of that pace and Isadore was outright sweating. Wow. Ruin walked like Jason on Friday the 13
th
in a marathon murder spree.
 

Soon she realized they were heading
out
of the little town. She’d given up asking where they were going, he was in terminator mode and seemed very . . . inhuman.

Ruin suddenly stopped and Isadore peered ahead, seeing an old bridge and shadowed silhouettes on it. By the time he started walking again, she’d just caught up. “Who is that?” she asked, back to skip running after him.

Of course, he didn’t answer. There seemed to be three at the bridge and Ruin stopped at the foot of it and watched. Isadore stood at his side, watching too, then finally looked up at him, hoping to discern what the hell was going on. Sharp fear gripped her at seeing his eye. Thin metal wires hooked onto the outer edges of his upper and lower eyelids. Dear God, it seemed to come from
inside
his eye. Four little latches, two at the top and two at the bottom. Isadore had never seen anything so weird in her life.

Before she could choose which question to ask, he continued forward in silence.

Isadore was wrong, there were five at the bridge. Or had two more just appeared? She recognized Caliber’s silver hair in the moonlight and also caught sight of salon-pin-straight-blonde hair in a brief flash. A woman? Another tall guy reminded her of that grim creature but human. Possibly the black hooded jacket that gave the impression.

“The freak finally made it.” The blonde head turned, giving only one brilliant red eye and perfectly structured and smooth face. But not a woman. Hardly. Ruin stopped some five feet from the group and Isadore eyed the broad shoulders and height of the blonde who’d turned and now scanned her. “He brings his human.”

“He has no choice.” Caliber’s tone warned not to speak the words again. But only because he’d heard it one too many times. How was it that she’d gotten the blame for being stuck in this supernatural circus gone wrong. Wasn’t
her
fault. The term
his human
didn’t bode well with her either. Guess it made it official that they were
not
human.

The blonde sported no shirt beneath his black leather coat that reached the ground, much like Caliber’s only . . .  more perfect and clean. She saw several strange tattoos. One centered on his chest, and one at his navel, looking like a Picasso painting during his depression years. When she looked up from her assessment, she was met with a direct gaze that reminded her of glowing blood. She was suddenly captivated with deciding if it was liquid or fire and stepped closer to see.

The OCD urge was interrupted with the sound of low growling. She realized it came from Ruin and was further alarmed to see that the metal in his eye had grown, extending over the entire side of his face. The two lower wires joined in the center of his cheek then branching down into four that embed symmetrically in his jaw. The metal on his upper lids did the same, the two hooks meeting over his brow and branched off into four spikes that seemed to embed just beyond his hairline. Dear God.

Ruin’s gaze snapped to her as if he’d heard her thoughts and she gasped at the fury twisting his face. The idea he was angry with her, brought a stupid sharp pain to her chest then turned her stomach.

“How special,” the man with the blonde hair said.

“Yes, special.” Caliber sounded annoyed and bored. “Can we just get this satanic show on the road?”

Isadore realized just how big the blonde was when he stepped toward her. “My name is Valkrin. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Step. Back.” Ruin’s command to the guy came out sounding metallic and Isadore drew closer to him, despite that. The constant growling Ruin emitted suddenly lessened when she did, and Isadore realized he was protecting her. That was a real relief because up to that second, she’d been feeling sure death nipping at her heels. She reached to touch Ruin’s hand, to assure him she was grateful, but he jerked away.

Valkrin gave her a slow, nearly seductive smile, showing denture-perfect teeth. “I think the Carnificem is a bit . . . torn.”

“Get a hold of the powers, Ruin,” Caliber ordered, impatiently. “And do your thing, Negotiator,” he said to the Valkrin being.

For the first time, Isadore heard it. The sound of mumbling behind them. And crying. She peered around Valkrin and there he was, a man standing on the edge of the bridge.

“Very well,” Valkrin sighed before stepping back and lean against the metal support of the bridge, locking his hands behind his head, and propping a foot on the beam behind him. All while he leisurely stared at the man who peered down into the water. Valkrin’s feature’s suddenly turned distraught and pained. “It’s all pointless,” Valkrin whispered to the man, his voice echoing defeat and hopelessness. “She’ll never love you. She loves him. You’ll never amount to more than a bum and she’ll never forgive you. She’ll never support you, you’ll rot in jail. This is the only way.”

Valkrin slowly swept his tongue over his lower lip as a smile took the perfect mouth. His blood red eyes swung to Isadore, like a seductive pendulum, before he gave a secretive wink.

“If you look at her again,” Ruin gasped, sounding as though he waged some internal war, “I will lose my fucking mind all over you.” 

“You do that,” Valkrin grinned. “And suffer the consequences of breaking our contract.” Valkrin pointed between Ruin and himself. “Dearest
brother
.”

“Caliber,” Ruin turned to the man.

“I can’t babysit you forever, Padre. Get. Control. You touch Valkrin, and you are done.”

“But I don’t care!” Like he wished he did, so he could get control.

Caliber raised his brows until he appeared crazy. “When I say
done
I mean you
die,
” Caliber said. “If you want to protect Isadore, you had better catch your head. That’s as much as I can tell you at this time.”

The blonde put his hand over his chest, feigning hurt. “You act as though I wouldn’t take perfect care of her for him.”

Ruin roared and bent over, vomiting red fire onto the ground.

“Stop goading him!” Isadore pointed at Valkrin, even stepped forward. “I don’t know what you are or who, but you need to leave him alone.”

Isadore shook with fear despite her boldness and oddly enough, the being slowly stood at attention, maybe even on guard now, both hands going slowly up. Before she fully regained her backbone, she realized Valkrin stared just behind her. Isadore glanced over her shoulder to find yet another man there. Taller than any others in the midst, he eyed Valkrin with bright silver eyes, reminding her of a thin version of the real St. Nick, long skinny beard and all.

“Hagios,” Valkrin nodded in clear deference. “What brings you all the way from planet Too Awesome To Name?”

“You will act in accordance with the ancient laws set before you in this prophecy.”

“Of course I am.”

“Now.”

The soft word stirred the air like a flashing tempest, setting Valkrin into immediate motion, turning his attention to the human again. Putting his arm around the man’s shoulder, he continued to speak softly, but in another language now. Things that seemed to make the man worse, not better. Isadore gasped when he raised a gun to his head. 

“Why is he doing that? What is he saying to him? What is he saying, it’s not helping him!” Isadore looked at Ruin and Caliber then at the man who looked like Grim, all while Valkrin sang foreign syllables, a lull-a-bye of death.

The man let out a sob, his quivering hand steadying as he placed the barrel against his temple, mumbling “
yes I know, I know.
”

Isadore spun to the being behind her. “What is he saying to him? What is he doing, what is he saying?”

The being turned those strange eyes on her and Isadore’s breath left her at seeing a brilliant galaxy within his gaze. “Why do you inquire after that which is being hidden from you?”

“Get ready,” Caliber said, his voice void of emotion.

Isadore turned to see Ruin on the opposite side of the man now, breathing harshly, his face gripped in some kind of pain or struggle, the wires on his face smoldering red hot even as Valkrin’s whispered words turned heated and full of passion.

The gun fired and Isadore screamed in her mind, her mouth open as blood flew. Ruin spoke a single word in another language and the man fell forward off the bridge as something remained in the air, a dark mass with tendrils, leading to Ruin, no, to his eye. Dear God the metal. The dark mass was attached to the metal in his eye.

Ruin growled in strain and raised his left hand, palm facing out. He gasped another foreign word and a streak of fire enveloped the black mass that now wriggled within the flames. Ruin pointed to the man who had reminded her of Grim and the fireball shot to him. He raised a hand and caught the fireball with a practiced grace before putting it inside his jacket. And vanishing.

Isadore felt dizzy and stumbled back, looking around. The rest were gone, too. Except Caliber who sighed next to Ruin, hands on hips like a disappointed general. “Glad that’s over. And now comes the cleansing. Stand up.” Caliber helped Ruin who’d fallen to his knees, heaving in the aftermath of whatever he’d just done. Caliber called Isadore to him with a wave of his hand. “He’s infected with evil and you’re the only one who can get it out.”

“What? How?” She looked at Ruin who appeared on the verge of death. “Tell me what to do.”

“Ask.”

“Ask?”

Caliber nodded. “Before he becomes fully aware, preferably.” His eyes were wide with alarm and warning.

“Please,” Isadore didn’t know what exactly she was supposed to ask and went with the most direct. “Can you clean him up?”

He saluted her with an overly jovial smile. “Why yes ma’am, I most certainly can.”

Smile vanishing just as quickly, Caliber yanked Ruin up by his shirt and Isadore reached a hand toward him, wanting to help or comfort somehow. The man placed a broad palm on Ruin’s chest. “Good night, dear friend.” Caliber slammed him to the ground and a white dense light exploded around them, through him, out of him. Then he patted Ruin’s chest and stood, raking his disheveled hair back with a hand. “I’ll go fetch the truck. He’ll be out for a while. And he’ll wake in a bit of pain.”