Vein of Love (Blackest Gold Book 1) (2 page)

Michael couldn’t even tear his gaze off Bonnie’s at that point. “I’ll talk to you later, okay, Molly?” he said, trancelike, pushing through the sea of bodies in search of an empty couch with Bonnie locked in his grasp.

“Wooow. That was brutal. Entertaining, but brutal. On that note, I need another drink,” Stella said, not unkindly, touching Molly briefly on the forearm. “You might want to do the same.”

Stella disappeared into the crowd as well, unabashedly pushing those unfortunate girls who happened to be standing between her and the Vanderbilts’ stocked bar. Molly stared into her flute glass, ruminating on the bubbling liquid inside. Each pop was another iota of her strength breaking down; she was tired of being Ms. Perfection, Ms. Obedient, Ms. Doormat, Ms. Forgettable.
Screw it.
She tossed it back in one swig, the burning sensation working its way down her throat, dulling her humiliation.

It didn’t take long for her empty stomach to absorb the frothy alcohol, and Molly found herself swaying with the music. She reached for another drink, this one masquerading as a martini though it seemed to be straight vodka with the olive acting simply as a garnish. It went down with a little more difficulty, but she managed. So much for going to her internship without a hangover.

Molly grabbed another, this one a pink concoction from a gilded tray, but before she could drink it, the delicate glass shattered in her fingers. She froze as the alcohol dripped out onto the floor, several shards falling on the rug below.
Ow!
A trail of blood ran down the inside of Molly’s palm where her skin had been sliced open.

Not again.

Her chest tightened and she darted through the people, head bowed, chucking the broken glass into a trashcan before stumbling up the stairs to the adjoining bathroom of an open guestroom.

She bit into her quivering lip as she washed her bloodied hand and examined it for glass. “What’s
wrong
with me?”

Maybe Stella was right. It would be work to date her, because she was a freak.

Wiping away angry tears, Molly stood and went back into the large bedroom. It was spacious, framed with crown molding and decorated with old portraits of the European countryside.

A large, bronzed oval mirror hung over the fireplace, and when she peered back at herself, she frowned. She stepped closer, her alcohol-stained heels clicking against the oak-paneled floor. When she was inches away from the mirror, Molly pushed her sunglasses up and inhaled—her eyes were a blinding, bright white, with ugly red veins streaking through them. Blindingly blue and freckled with white specks, different, but “acceptable”. That was, until they glowed violently when Molly felt extreme emotions, causing those around her to become breathless at the very sight of them. Hell, even
she
could barely handle the glare in the mirror when it happened.

“I can’t do this any more,” she whispered, the tears spilling over. She screwed her eyes shut, crying out as the painfully icy sensation behind her lids increased to an unbearable pitch, like icepicks were chipping away at her brain.

Someone hissed and Molly spun, the sunglasses dropping to the floor. A shrouded figure lingered in the doorway, unmoving.

Her heart thudded against her ribcage and she dared not make a sound.

Another hiss echoed out, louder than the first, and Molly fell back against the fireplace. The hisses multiplied, surrounding her like an oppressive coat, causing every cell in Molly’s body to shudder, to scream,
Run!

A bellowing cry exploded from the figure then, sending Molly to the floor as she cupped her ears against the assaultive noise. The mirror above broke, glass falling in pieces onto her hair and shoulders. She couldn’t speak, couldn’t move. When the cry stopped, Molly shakily lifted her head.

Please don’t be real.

The hood concealing the figure’s face pooled around its elongated, abnormally curved neck, attached to a monstrous mouth of sharpened teeth. The dark eyes stared back at Molly, her movements stiffening. Hissing began again and Molly followed the sound upward as the woman came closer; there was something on her head, and it was writhing, scaly—
Oh god.
They were snakes, and
they were the woman’s hair
.

Molly crawled back as far as she could, heart hammering, voice aching to scream out. The broken glass dug into her skin, but she ignored the ache.

The monster’s gold-tinted hands glinted in the dim lighting as she waved them manically. “Daemon,” she snarled.

The snakes coiled through each other and over the woman’s brow. When Molly stood on wobbly legs, her attacker’s mouth broke into a razor-toothed snarl. She raised a hand and swept each of the chairs out of the way, sending them one by one against walls, priceless paintings, busts of famed aristocrats.

“Please,” Molly begged, the haze of alcohol making her feel powerless. “
Stop
.”

The woman sent another chair into the wall, and Molly grabbed one of the iron pokers nearest her.

“Stay back,” Molly warned, arm shaky from the weight of the poker. The woman still advanced, eyes bloodshot and wild, but she froze the moment Molly’s eyes aligned with hers. Her hard, sharp face looked as if it was made out of stone, while the rest of her body was covered in a ratty black cloak. As soon as Molly’s eyes left hers, the woman moved again. Molly swung the poker frantically as the woman approached. “Don’t. Don’t come any closer––” Molly smacked the woman’s arm hard enough she screeched painfully loud and Molly jolted.

Big damn mistake.

The woman lunged, swinging her hand to hit Molly’s cheek. Molly fell hard, releasing the poker. When the woman sat on her back and wrenched both wrists up, Molly screamed.

“Let—go—of—me—” Molly’s muffled cries were useless, her lungs crushed under the weight of the woman as she thrashed around. Pungent acidic odor stung Molly’s nostrils, and she could sense the woman leaning down, lowering her mouth to the right side of Molly’s exposed neck.

No!

Molly arched her back for one final fight, only to find the snakes swaying far too close to her face, snapping their fanged jaws.

A deafening roar filled the room. The woman and her snakes hissed, and the weight disappeared from Molly’s back. Molly glanced up just in time to see the woman darting like a blur toward the door, only to be caught by a silhouette of a man. She held her breath, startled by the sight of him.

The man gripped the woman’s throat, and within a second an ear-splitting snap resounded, followed by a thud.

Molly stared, unmoving.

He’d snapped her neck
.

She swallowed her sob.

Molly’s heart pulsed as she watched the woman decay before her eyes, the snakes lifeless and turning to ash.

The male figure stood above the dead woman, kicking at the dead reptiles. “Damn gorgon,” he muttered in a low, somber tone, sounding more annoyed than anything.

She’d been drugged. That was the only explanation here that made any sense. Rohypnol…maybe Special K? Whatever the hell it was, it explained all of this. No snakes, no broken necks. She was just hallucinating, or maybe dreaming? Maybe she had fallen asleep in the bathroom with all the blood, and never actually made it out to the mirror.

She smiled. Somehow, that was a much better option.

“Is she dead?” asked a female voice. Several sets of heavy footsteps filled Molly’s ears as she eyed the two figures coming closer, surveying the room. The girl was young, too young
to be with the likes of the man that stood beside her. Molly didn’t risk looking at them too long.

“What does it
look
like?” he responded roughly. Molly slowly lifted her arm and retrieved the sunglasses, putting them on.

“I wasn’t talking about the fugly gorgon,” the woman snapped. “I was talking about the girl.”

A chilling silence filled the room and Molly searched for a weapon, zeroing in on a glinting piece of metal nearby. The man took a step toward her, but stopped when Molly grabbed the discarded fire poker.

“Don’t you dare!” she said from her place on the oak floor, coughing violently as her lungs filled with oxygen once more.

“You going to kill me with that?” he laughed lazily, as if he didn’t want to waste any amount of breath on her. She squinted, the shadowed room concealing his features. “Go ahead, get up. Catch your breath.”

Molly stood as fast as she could, spots dancing in front of her eyes. The poker wavered as she fought waves of dizziness.

The woman folded her arms, an amused smile stretching her thin lips. “She thinks she can kick your fucking ass.”

He took another confident step closer, pacing himself
, enjoying
it. “A Manhattan princess? Fight me? Tsk, tsk.”

He crossed the final feet in two steps, taking hold of the poker and encircling her with his other arm. She gasped, her wide eyes taking in his bee-stung lips and lazy smirk. He placed the sharp end of the poker to his abdomen, which was ridged and defined even under his clothing. “Prove me wrong, by all means, ciccia.”

CICCIA—WHAT? IS
that an insult?

Molly studied him from under her lashes, weighing the options. She could stab him, pierce through his tailored suit. She had the poker, after all.

“Drop it or I might accidentally slip and break that delicate wrist of yours.” His warning tone sent dreadful chills down her spine and she stared at his hand still over hers.

Holy shit.
She gripped the poker tighter.

“Tensley,” the woman scolded. Now that she was only a few feet away, she could make out the girl’s features—long, dull hair clipped back messily that screamed she wasn’t from Molly’s Upper East Side world, and thank god
for that. A girl around the same age as her, but with an aged demeanor, skin dirty and tight around her delicate bones. But she was anything but delicate.

The longer Molly stared at the man, Tensley, fear soaked into her chest and made her cold. If it was him…

Molly edged back in a panic, hoping they’d let her pass. “I need to go.”

Tensley went for her arm, which she swung back. “
No.
We’re taking you home.”

Molly’s brows lifted almost to her hairline. “No—no. No!” She couldn’t stop shaking.
“Are you psychotic? You just murdered someone right in front of me and you want to take me
home? Oh god
—” Molly choked on mouthfuls of air, bending over as a wave of paralyzing panic seized her.

The woman glared at Tensley’s profile and shook her head. “Great job, genius. Now she’s about to faint.”

“I’m losing it,” Molly chanted between shallow gasps. “I’m hallucinating.”

“What was I supposed to say? She’s being followed and we need to get her somewhere safe.”

Molly’s mind raced with the events of the last few minutes, how her world had flipped, dove, and plummeted in record time. “How did you know about that—the monster with the snakes—”

“It was a gorgon,” the woman explained, her torn military jacket and black combat boots looking especially threatening under the dim lighting, almost pitch-black. “And it had its own agenda for you.”

“What ‘agenda’?”

“Not now, Lex,” Tensley snapped. “I need to get her out of here.
Now.”
Molly heard him sigh and saw his boots stepping toward her. “C’mon, we’re leaving before you have a fucking breakdown.”

Oh hell no!
Molly swung the poker at his stomach hard and he groaned.

When she raised the poker again, his hand shot out and he yanked it painfully from her hands, tossing it behind him. Molly shook as he straightened to his full towering height and eyed his stomach, where a tiny spot of blood seeped through his dress shirt. When his eyes found her widened ones, he glared. “You made me bleed, ciccia.”

Molly took a large step back, but she knew he had her cornered.

“It’s time to go.
Now.
” When he moved forward, she shot her hands out and shoved, her palms landing on his firm chest for a second. Her hands tingled at the power shooting up her arms from the ends of her fingertips. For once, her rare ability was coming in handy. He flew through the air like a doll, falling straight into Lex; they both went down in a pile of muscle and leather.

Oh god—it worked! Holy shit!

Molly darted past them and down the staircase, pushing through the swarm to the fire escape. She raced down several flights and into the foyer, teetering to a stop once she was outside on the deserted Manhattan street. She was definitely hallucinating; her drink had absolutely been laced.

“September,” she mumbled, searching her coat pocket for her phone. She rubbed her eyes as she stumbled along, sliding a finger across the phone’s screen. The heel of her shoe landed in a grate the wrong way and she pitched forward, sunglasses askew.

A strong hand wrapped around her waist and yanked her upright once more, leaving a heated trail along her stomach. A fogginess overwhelmed her.
What the—?

She jolted in the embrace, looked over her shoulder, and it was
him,
Tensley. His muscular build towered over her, the closeness overwhelming her senses and igniting a buried spark inside her belly. She pushed her glasses up her nose, noticing how she didn’t really
mind
the way she seemed to fit against his firm frame. She shook her head, trying to escape the fogginess. She’d witnessed him nonchalantly snap that woman’s neck, for god’s sake—not to mention the fact that he was a
complete stranger
, and a psychopath.

“I will scream if you don’t let me go right now!” Molly said, trying to shove him away. His grip only tightened, and Molly could see Lex examining them from the sidewalk.

Molly tried again, digging her elbow up under his ribcage.
Stupid random strength. Work now, huh?
“Let me go!”

He clamped a hand over her mouth and she tasted salt. “Shut
up!
You’re being followed and we’re trying to
help
you!”

Molly grunted against his palm, wiggling her face around.

Lex sighed behind him. “We’re the least of your worries,” she chimed in. “I’m Lex, by the way. You don’t have to be scared, okay? We’re going to keep you safe.”

“Don’t.” Tensley hissed at his companion. “Just keep walking.” His hand nudged the small of Molly’s back.

Molly stood her ground, glaring at him in defiance.
Dick.
Her eyes flickered over his shoulder to the nearest alleyway. Maybe she could run.

He moved forward again, and she wanted desperately to punch him, shove him off, but her powers refused to work. She dragged her feet on the ground, heels bumping against the asphalt in a sad attempt to remain anchored. He only yanked harder, releasing her mouth to use both hands.

“Let go of me!” she repeated, face freed, frantically searching for anyone who might still be out at that late hour. “Attack! He’s attacking me! Assault!
Assault!
”

Tensley rounded on her that time, his now obsidian eyes slicing her in half as if she could feel his warning.

All the blood left Molly’s face and she swore her heart thudded to a stop as his presence swarmed her.

“Tensley! Don’t use that on her! Jesus Christ!” Lex chided.

Molly glanced at Lex.
Maybe she’ll be more understanding…

Molly fully faced Lex, widening her eyes. “Please, please don’t let him hurt me, I have money, I can get you money—”

“I’m not going to hurt you unless you keep talking! I’m trying to take you
home!
” the man grunted, pushing Molly to walk again. “Three hundred fucking years of protection and for what? An obnoxious, bimbo blonde. Jesus fucking Christ is right.”

“Is everything all right here?” All three of them turned to face an older man in a fitted business suit standing on the corner, eyeing the scene. His face darkened as he took in Molly’s disheveled clothes and Tensley’s grip around her waist.

Before Molly could respond, Tensley walked around her and straight up to the businessman, Lex taking his place. “Everything’s fine, so back off,” he said in a calm, even tone.

Molly watched as the man’s face changed; he tensed, averting his eyes before suddenly scurrying away into the night. She
felt
the presence again, the presence of a warning, a threat that alerted her to stand back.
What the hell just happened?

Molly gawked at Tensley as he returned to her side, grabbing her once more. “What did you just do to him?”

“Sent him a warning his body understood.” A wolfish smile appeared on his lips. “Want to try and get away again?”

Her heart beat wildly in her chest. She broke his hold on her wrist and shoved him—hard.

He didn’t move. He didn’t even budge. She pushed him again and his shoulder lifted. He let out a low laugh. Embarrassment and an overwhelming dread sunk into her bones.

“Looks like your powers are unpredictable,” he deadpanned, snatching her wrists again. “Wonder why.”

She looked up at him in dismay. “You know about my powers?”

“I know a lot about you.”

“What? How?” She glowered up at him and he simply glanced away, as if it didn’t matter.

“C’mon, we’ll take you home. We’re not going to hurt you, I promise,” Lex whispered, touching Molly’s shoulder.

Tensley hissed, most likely a few curse words under his breath, shaking his head. “I have better things to do then babysit.”

Molly glared at the back of his head, dark, wavy hair glistening. 

As they approached people strolling down Madison Avenue, Tensley loosened his grip on her shoulder only to securely hold her against his side. She wanted to scream for help, but the couple they passed seemed so sweet, so happy…she didn’t want them to come under the fire of her two captors.

When Molly saw her parents’ white-paneled townhouse, her throat grew dry with renewed hope, but also terror for her family’s safety.

“I’m gonna head home,” Lex said, and Tensley acknowledged her with a nod.

“Wait!” Molly shouted, causing Lex to stop mid-turn. “Y-you can’t leave me alone with him.”

Lex’s hard features softened somewhat, but she was still a fearsome sight as she stepped closer—dirt splattered across her skin, eyes as fierce as the blinding sun. “He’s not going to hurt you,” she whispered. “You’re in good hands with him.”

She turned and jogged away, the only source of comfort disappearing, weaving past the wrought iron trashcans and flourishing callery pear trees lining the sidewalk.

Tensley led Molly up the steps and leaned her up against the paneled wall, trapping her between his arms. “Key?”

Molly gaped at him. “No—
no
.”

“Fine, have it your way.” He gripped her forearm and moved her out of the way, raising his leg to kick the door open with such force that it split in two, pieces falling into the entryway. Tensley fixed his collar with one swift gesture and strolled inside like he owned the place.

Molly’s mouth unhinged. “How…”
Is he even human?

Her mother was still sitting on the living room couch, another glass of merlot in hand. Molly’s stomach twisted at the sight.
Is she drunk already?
Fiona gawked at Tensley, eyes low and drooping. “You—you came…”

Tensley flicked a miniature statue of Apollo on the coffee table with his fingernail, face emotionless. “Nice place.”

Molly scowled.

“We called you,” her mother said at Molly, as if the strange man three large strides away wouldn’t hear. “Why would you leave?”

“Molly?” Her father appeared at the top of the staircase and halted, surveying the scene below. His eyes grew cold when he saw the newcomer. “Are you Tensley Knight?”

Molly’s heart climbed to the top of her throat.

“In the flesh.” Tensley strolled toward the staircase. “And you’re Derrek Darling.”

Derrek’s face reddened. “Get out!”

Tensley laughed humorlessly, and Molly couldn’t hide her shaking. “Where’s the hospitality?”

Molly’s father rolled up his sleeves and marched down the stairs. “I told your family years ago: there’s no deal with us.”

Tensley gave him a hard look. “Let me refresh your tiny human memory. It’s a contract made in your ancestors’ blood; you don’t get a choice here. My family has protected yours for over three hundred years in exchange for one day producing a daemon who possessed the eyes. And what do we have here?” His eyes swung to Molly’s rigid figure, his voice holding an unnerving edge. “A daemon with the blessed eyes, from your bloodline. Specifically,
your
daemon daughter, who’s been promised to
me
.”

Molly eyed Tensley—the grey eyes, the dark hair…the boy she had seen that
night.
It was him. He had come with the other shadows. At the memory of him holding her hand as a child, she linked her hands together tightly.