Nye, a former slave who lost his love and was tired of being under the control of another ended his life in 1859. His stubborn ways kept him under Gabriel’s thumb and from ascending to Heaven. Feeling that a woman was the cause of his downfall he hasn’t had an urge for a woman for over a hundred and fifty years. Knowing that he has less than seven years left until he earns salvation he is staying on the straight and narrow – until a woman gets caught in the crossfire during a demon hunt.
Receiving devastating news, Kiriana moves across the country only to get caught up in the world of our protectors The Frozen. With each passing moment Nye and Kiriana are pulled into an attraction that could be their ultimate demise or their greatest salvation…
All the while Damarion, is leading a group of female demons as they try to protect the demons sent from Hell to obtain the souls of humans around the world. Being assigned to Earth as a punishment for crimes against the royal family, Damarion learns that there are dangers within his coven trying to take him down and stop him from returning to his love still trapped in Hell and threaten the love that he was so sure was true.
You close your eyes and finally make the decision to end your life only to have him show up. Gabriel, here to give you a second chance at salvation. They say he’s an angel, but then again, they don’t have to serve under him. He offers you a chance to be a member of the Frozen, a group of demon hunters. Serve your sentence and you can ascend to heaven. Refuse? Well, the punishment has been clearly laid out in the scriptures. It’s a last chance. But when your body is frozen in time, can your heart still beat?
Two hours into an ever so thrilling entertainment news cycle, I felt the pleather of the beanbag chair sticking to the back of my thighs. It was amazing how the breeze from a window air conditioner could freeze my face and yet have no effect on my legs dangling just two feet below. Looking around at my vast apartment, I couldn’t help but think it was a reflection of me -- plenty of space but nothing inside.
That’s it! I thought.
I needed to move before my joints congealed in this position. A smile crept across my lips while I turned to my latest bestie, DJ. He wasn’t watching TV, but instead seemed to have some foot fetish given the way he was fixated on my untied size-six Nikes.
I pulled my right shoe up and tied it. With my head rested on my knee, I noticed DJ’s beautiful, deep brown eyes smiling at me. I needed to break the mood.
Being unable to break my gaze as my smile contorted to a smirk, I blurted, “So there I was, naked with a joint in one hand and a beer in the other, and the cop says…'You wanna get out of this ticket?'” My favorite, get-my-ass-moving-line, had DJ staring at me like I'd actually done something. Damn it! That usually made people uncomfortable, but no, DJ kept staring at me, forcing me to turn away.
“Um…I…” DJ stumbled.
I could feel his eyes examining me. He must have been trying to find the appropriate response.
“Joking, jackass,” I said as I stood up. “But thanks for thinking I’d actually do that.”
To emphasize my disgust, I slapped the back of his head, almost knocking off his stupid, orange Bowling Green Falcons baseball cap that seemed to be attached with Gorilla Glue.
“I don’t know you that well,” he replied, readjusting his hat. “And for all I know, you like the sticky icky.”
“Right, like I’d smoke the ditch weed they've got around here,” I replied while I scanned my apartment.
It was beginning to feel like a fruitless treasure hunt. I had almost nothing in my apartment, yet I couldn’t remember where I put my wrist pack.
Tacky built-in bookshelf?
Top shelf in the fridge?
I should’ve been worried about finding my wrist pack in the fridge, but I guess the fact that I knew to look there was more important. I shoved a five-dollar bill in the pack and drew my shoulder length blond hair into a ponytail.
I knew why I kept DJ around. It wasn’t only that DJ was my current nearest and dearest. God, I'd only known him a month. Keeping any guy around for more than a week was a record for me. Who knew not sleeping with a guy could keep him coming back?
By some dumb luck I met DJ on my first day in town and he chose to take on the “daunting” task of showing me around all ten of the campus buildings in this hamlet. He was an assistant defensive coach for the football team at Iowa Wesleyan, the college where I'd recently taken a coaching position.
I think his willingness to take on the chore had more to do with me being a potential new conquest than him trying to be a Boy Scout. Not that I didn’t have similar thoughts when I first saw his deeply tanned skin on a set of abs I’d like to lick ice cream from. Strangely, his body was secondary to the way he was able to set me at ease. I don’t know, maybe it was his baby face, but being around DJ made moving halfway across the country less scary for me.
“KK,” DJ started to ask then shook his head.
“Look here, lazy ass. You were supposed to run with me when you got here so I wouldn’t have the sun beatin’ down on me, but nooooooo. Someone had to find out if J-Lo was going to be on American Idol next season. Just because you don't want to keep yourself in perfect shape doesn’t mean I don’t.”
“I don’t know, chica. I think you could stand to gain a few pounds.”
Turning and shoving my ass right in his face triggered the preferred reaction of a good butt cup and firm squeeze by his hands. I laughed.
“See, more than a handful’s a waste and I see I’m already wasting some on you.”
“I won’t waste it, I promise,” he pledged as I stepped away.
“No, my pequeño bebé,” I replied and lightly kissed his forehead.
“You need to work on your Spanglish, woman.”
“I don’t think so,” I replied, knowing full well what I'd called him.
Grabbing my waist, he pulled me to the floor and trapped me. I could already feel his growing attraction pressing hard, causing a shiver to shoot through me. Bringing my lips to his, I focused on the sweet taste of his tongue gently massaging mine as I tried to lull myself into a safe and warm place.
It didn’t work. DJ was officially in my friend zone and that’s where I needed him to stay. He was like all the rest – someone I'd have to force myself to feel what I’ve been told comes naturally.
Here I was going through the motions, knowing I was setting myself up to be used. Neither of us cared for the other beyond the superficial. His intoxicating athletic redolence that always seemed to send me into a tailspin had me going again.
I'd been fighting the urge to sleep with him but it wasn’t to fulfill some deeper purpose; to find a soul mate or partner. I knew if I slept with DJ, he’d fall into my long line of mistakes. He was perfect. Attractive, well built and completely unavailable. Rumors would abound, ruin me here and give me a good reason to leave.
Think, Kiriana. This isn’t what you want. Those damn whispers were always getting in the way. Yes, it is, I thought back, only to have the whispers come at me again. He’s your friend. You don’t keep protection around. Do you really want to end up bent over…
I cut the thought off there because if I kept going, with the way DJ’s fingers were sliding up my tank top and under my sports bra, I wouldn’t stop until my sheets were sweaty, our clothes littered the floor and he'd penetrated me six ways from Sunday. Been there. Done that. Got the frickin’ t-shirt. I’m not going to make that mistake again.
“DJ…[Rebel1] ” I said, when he finally released me from his embrace. Looking up at his brown eyes, I had to smile.
“You know we can’t.”
“We’re both consenting adults with fully functioning bodies and no attachments,” DJ said without taking a breath. “Not only can we, but I’m sure we can do it well. You know athletes are the best in bed.”
“We’re on my floor.”
“Your bed’s ridiculous,” he whined.
I could see the disappointment in his eyes.
“Don’t you have somewhere to be?”
“Oh shit!” he said, rolling off me and checking the time on his phone. “What am I supposed to do with this?”
DJ smiled and pointed to his crotch.
“Sorry, honey, but I told you we can’t.”
“You’re not in a ‘good place’ now,” he whined again, using air quotes. “Whoever he was, I’m gonna to kill him.”
“That’s why you’re my bestie,” I said as I kissed his cheek. “Does it make you feel better that you have me tuned up like a Fender guitar?”
It wasn’t true, but it seemed to make him feel better. I was numb to most touches. Oh sure, I’d get a slight tingle and in the back of my mind I’d think this was how it was supposed to be, that I should just go for it. But in reality, we were playing out a bad rom-com with our canned expressions and perceived responses.
“No,” DJ snipped.
I guess lying about being turned on was enough to satisfy him. He stood up and I was beginning to regret my no. DJ’s skin-tight workout shirt was defining him in a way that made me wish I needed his dictionary. His biceps flexed as he moved reminding me of what it had been like to have strong arms hold me down but submission took too long to satisfy me. Taking control wasn’t any better. Either way, DJ’s shirt had to stay on.
“Will you at least think of me with fondness?” DJ asked, bringing me out of my own head.
“Dude, you’ve been the only one in my spank bank since we met,” I assured him as I pulled my legs up to my chest and curled into a ball.
At least that earned me a smile.
“How does a sweet face like that harbor a mouth like yours?”
“Evolution of the species,” I replied while stretching the strap for my white ipod nano over my left arm. The elastic snapped and held tight. “Now get going! If you’re late, doesn’t your mother or someone slap your ass?”
“If only,” he sighed, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear and lightly brushing the nape of my neck.
“I told you not to do that,” I warned.
He'd learned the move drove me crazy and it did cause a tingle. Turning my head away only exposed more of my neck. God! He was going to break me soon. Maybe there was something between us? Gooseflesh emerged when his lips came to my ear. He found the Hispanic accent he tried so hard to lose in everyday conversation.
“What if I promise you I’ll never stop? I know the pleasure you obtain from it,” he said as his warm breath tickled my skin. I clutched his hardening bicep for support. “Succumb to me but once and you'll discover your pleasure is my greatest obsession.”
My heart raced as the heat coming off our bodies mingled, tantalizing my senses to return his touch. As my eyelids fluttered and my mouth became wet with anticipation, the whispers only let out one scolding word of warning. Kiriana.
An irritated growl came from deep in my chest. My body was protesting against my mind. With both hands on his chest, I pushed hard until his spell was broken.
“Stop channeling Don Juan and get out,” I said, pushing him out into the hallway and slamming the door so I could try to come down from the rush pulsing through my body.
I fell against the door, slumped my head in defeat and remembered his smell, the spicey scent begging me to stop him. I pulled myself as if I was taffy, half of my body still stuck to the door, the other half trying to distance myself from the encounter. I crossed the room to one of my front windows. Looking down, I saw DJ get in his car he had to have owned since high school. It wasn’t until he pulled out of the parking space that I could breathe again.
I placed my ear buds in and pushed play as the sounds came at me hard. I needed my girls. Pink, Alanais, Gwen and a little bit of Eve for an extra kick in the ass. If nothing else, the music got my mind off of DJ. I could go on my run now. And much like I suspected, DJ hadn't left a lasting impression.
Grasping the door handle, I was stopped by the hot pink post-it at eye level; five-two. No words were on it. None were needed. I knew what I’d done and who I was trying desperately to no longer be.
Grumbling, I turned around and headed into the kitchen, ran some water into a glass, and uncapped my Retrovir. Dumb ass. Fucking dumb ass, whore! I screamed in my head. Never again! Not that it was an option. Truly, if I would've had the same mantra every time I woke up next to someone I didn’t know, I would've never had this problem.
I'd been diagnosed six months ago. Why it had taken so long was still a mystery of good luck. I didn’t drink, at least not then. I didn’t do drugs. I had only one addiction. Easily solved you’d think, but it wasn’t. I was chasing a high I never found. Wanting the feeling of closeness. Wanting to feel anything but never finding it. Never. Of all the men I'd been with, none were worth repeating. But still I tried. And tried. And tried. I needed violence and anonymity, not wanting a true connection or kindness, but craving it all the same.
Yeah, I know, I’ve got issues. Screw that, I have a damn subscription.
Now I was done. Cast aside by life. I didn’t know why I took my meds. There was nothing in my life to live for. My sentence had been handed down by a higher power. Then something would speak to me softly, telling me to keep going. Keep trying. It will come. That damn voice inside my mind was my salvation and downfall all in the same annoyingly soft whisper.
Bounding down the stairs, I stopped at the mailboxes and spun the dials. C right, G left, L right. The old brass door swung open. I stowed my keys in the box. Walking out into the painfully bright July sunlight, I instantly put on my wrap-around sunglasses.
My apartment was always so dark. The brick building had no windows in the back, so the only light in the apartment was in the morning at sunrise, but that was usually blocked by the brick buildings on the east side of the square. I debated on whether to go back up for a hat, but decided against it. Remember next time. It was only eighteen steps. I'd counted when I needed to make more than one trip after the grocery store. I knew if I went back upstairs, I’d just crash on my beanbag.
I could only shake my head as I looked around. Mount Pleasant, Iowa. How the hell did I end up here? It was a medium-sized town which meant there were probably more people in my graduating class at UCLA then there were in this whole zip code.
The park served as the town square and was right across the street from my apartment. I'd moved in last month when I finally decided to escape California. Now I wondered why I left.
Looking left then right, I tried to decide how far I wanted to run. Part of me wanted to run through the campus at the college but the other part wanted to stick to the city and go past the prison, a medium-level correctional facility that housed drug dealers, sex offenders and drunks, which for some odd reason was on the main drag of the town. One of the inmates was my father. And although that might have been what drew me to Mount Pleasant, I liked to delude myself it wasn’t.
I hadn’t contacted him. There wasn't a reason for him to know I'd moved here. He'd been out of my life for ten years and yet after my mother chose to end her fight with MS last fall, something inside me said I needed to be closer to the only family I had left.
Coming from southern California, I thought summer in Iowa would be a breeze but the joke was on me. The humidity in this town was unbearable. It had taken less than two blocks for me to miss my stupid window air conditioner and for my clothes to start sticking to my skin. Oh, how I missed the ocean breeze.
I tried to focus on the sidewalk in front of me and not the million things running through my brain. What was I thinking? Why am I here? At least there wasn’t much of a commitment. The school was small and from what I gathered, the staff was fairly used to a somewhat rapid turnover of coaches. I'd only signed a one-year contract.
A mile into the run, I paused to look at the prison to my right, but I kept running. I didn’t want to think of what my father was going through. My mother told me he'd been such a wonderful man, but after losing his job, he turned to drinking and drugs before he became violent. By the time I was in high school, he'd already finished his first five-year stint in prison on a drug charge.
Why I cared was my other question. Daddy issues. Had to be. Maybe that’s why I did it. No reason to care about it, now though. It wasn’t going to change a thing. My future was set. I did this to myself.
I wiped away the sweat now streaming down my cheek.
Hat, dumb ass. Hat!
I needed to stop at Hy-Vee to get some water or I’d dehydrate before I hit two miles at this rate. Jogging down the sloped parking lot, I slowed my pace and entered the cool store. My breathing was even while I dug in the back of the cooler in hopes of actually finding a cold water.
Grabbing two bottles, I checked out and returned to the sweltering sun. While drinking the first, I stretched my thighs and hamstrings. Then I went to the curb, placed the ball of my foot on the edge of it and stretched my calf.
My Achilles tendon burned. The scar from the repair of it was still dark red. The surgeon promised it would fade, but up until now it was just as dark as the day they wheeled me through the outpatient clinic doors. I turned and went back onto Highway 34 and picked up my pace. At the end of town, I turned onto a dirt road. I’d go back to town through the campus.
I was pushing through the ache in my muscles and drank the last of my second bottle of water as the lactic acid fought me for control of my tender muscles when a pain ripped through my right hamstring causing me to pull up.
“Fuck! Damn it!” I cursed. “Son of a bitch!”
I limped to the side of the road and tried to stand on one leg, my right leg curling into itself, the muscle tightening as each second passed. Bringing my hand to the back of my leg, I could feel the sweat that laced my skin. As I tried to rub the muscle, something felt wrong. Bringing my hand around to remove my sunglasses, my palm was red.
I sat silent on the floor, my legs crossed beneath me. My shaved head was covered in tattoos that took the form of flames licking at my skull. I demanded we remain motionless in the darkened room. The few windows in the basement of my home had been blacked out. I was trying to feel the bantling that was to be emerging at the noon hour.
“Pivane. Do you feel it yet?” I whispered.
“No, Yahweh. I cannot.”
I looked at Pivane with his hair tight to his head. The sharp nose and small features suited his name of weasel. He was assigned to me as a jab, for he was not a worthy demon.
I never knew what demons were to be sent to me, but I was expected to protect and nurture them as they grew. It took two weeks for them to mature enough to go out among the world’s inhabitants and spread their evil. I was to always have twenty-eight spread through out the homes I acquired which made me admire whomever matured the demons that infected the banks. They were my heroes. Thanks to foreclosure, I was able to control a whole cul-de-sac.
So I, and the seven in my charge tried to locate the demons in their bantling stage, all played like a happy, little middle-class-Brady-fucking-bunch as those who dwelled in this village went on cheering for the local teams and shopping at Wally World, oblivious to the fact everyday, demons emerged from the Hell’s Mouth, a place tucked safely beneath their chemically treated lawns.
But right now. Right now, I needed to focus. Looking around the circle, it consisted of Pivane, Nemesio, Cailean, Keir, and myself--the five of us focusing on the demon, helping it enter the world.
Nemesio was a vixen. Her black hair was always slicked back and kept short at the jaw line. Her piercing blue eyes had destroyed more than one male. The muscular cuts in her body were usually only seen between the pages of Maxim.
Cailean was just as bad. She was only five foot but her body was definitely made for sin. Her double D chest, which was always clad in leather, crumpled men left and right.
Keir was the scariest. I had yet to figure out what it was.
There was nothing in my mind and that was irritating me. Noon retrievals were the easiest. This shouldn’t be an issue. Keir’s body jerked and fell forward. Shit.
“Left! Left!” Dilana yelled at me, her voice shrill as it always was when she hunted like this.
A thick, eastern European accent tended to emerge when she was irritated. Her black hair cut short like a pixie, she was anything but. Hard, muscular, five foot ten. Her angular face showed a beauty that belonged to a marble sculpture, not a woman speeding down a back highway in the southeast corner of BFE.
I was riding my 1946 Indian Chief trying to stay beside her. I didn’t want to get lost in the dust storm from her black Denali pickup. My eyes were focused on the road ahead and the demon that emerged at noon. Bantlings, the newly born demons, could only enter earth at noon and midnight.
Mount Pleasant, Iowa, was one of twelve Hell's Mouths they escaped from. Unfortunately, their leader could always find a new exit point so when we, the Frozen, hunt, we have to search the whole area. If the demon that emerged was able to survive for over three hours, it was almost impossible to kill.
The bantling ahead of us was trying to convert into human form. The fact he was running over seventy miles-per-hour tended to make him stand out. Dilana leaned out her window and with a quick snap, an arrow whistled through the air, expertly released from her crossbow.
The first arrow missed the bantling completely. The second plugged him in the back. My arm reached out and I caught the bantling by the hair, dragging the body until my bike came to a stop. With one mighty stab of my claustranima to his chest, a burst of light shot through the air, leaving only a pile of sulfuric ash.
“Good shot,” I grumbled, hating Dilana tended to immobilize before me. It no longer mattered if she killed the bantling or not. Unlike me, she was no longer working off her sentence so she allowed me the kill.
“Thanks,” she said, throwing the small crossbow over her shoulder. “But I lost an arrow.”
I spun my claustranima, the holder of my soul, and resheathed. My soul spun around, encased in the diamond handle. It was amazing how little my soul was.
“This heat is a bitch. I hope I get Antarctica next,” Dilana teased.
Neither of us could wait for Mt. P’s Hell's Mouth to finally seal. I'd been stuck here for forty-three years. The Mouth had to seal soon. They were only open for fifty years and it usually took the angels a few to find them. What sucked was right before it sealed, the limit was overridden. This town could become a warzone any day now.
Wouldn’t that be a change? Mount Pleasant had limited scenery. Cornfields abounded. Knee high by the fourth of July. Well heck, they got that right this year. Both sides of the road sprouted corn. If it wasn’t corn, it was pigs. I was so damn tired of corn and pigs. Itching to get away would be an understatement.
Having lived here for almost half a century, I knew there was a large distribution center at the end of the road. I lifted my head to see if anyone was on a smoke break and my heart stopped. A normal was fewer than ten feet away and was staring directly at me.
“Oh heck,” I cursed under my breath.
She was stumbling backwards, but only on one leg. Her deep brown eyes caught mine. They reminded me of a cattail, the brown velvet tops told the softness and depth contained within. I couldn’t move.
Fear crossed her tanned face. Her sunshine-colored hair was falling from a ponytail and framing her jaw line, which still had some roundness to it like a child’s.
She was single-leg-hopping backwards but then fell on her butt and screamed. Using her arms, she tried to get away from us. She hadn't released her gaze from me. What had she seen? All I could think was I needed to help her, but my legs were locked. How could I approach her without frightening her more?
“Nye. Nye!” snapped Dilana.
“Grab her,” Dilana ordered.
I ran up the road to get the woman and she kicked my shin with her good leg, which caused a sharp pain to shoot up to my knee.
“Don’t touch me,” she warned with a growl that was strangely arousing. Her hands pushed her up off the gravel and she stood on her good leg with her fists clenched.
“Do you need help wrangling the two-year-old?” Dilana asked.
The girl was short. She probably only came to top of my abs, but she was definitely a woman. A woman with amazing curves. I shook my head and focused on the task at hand.
“Knock it off,” I warned Dilana then turned back to the girl. “Look, I’m not gonna hurt you.”
“Kiss my ass, motherfucker. You ain’t layin’ a hand on me.”
Jabbing at my gut, she made contact, which caused me to buckle over. Then she went for a kidney shot. Now she'd irritated me not to mention I thought I was going to be pissing blood. I was defintely going to lay more than one hand on her now.
Bull rushing her, I made her fall back, but I caught her around her waist before she hit the ground and then I threw her over my shoulder. Why didn’t I think of that immediately? I was usually better, but my thoughts were stumbling over themselves. Something about her eyes, hips, lips…I shook my head again. Since when did I get aroused? It had been over a century since I even attempted the activity.
“Help! Help!” She screamed.
“I am helping you,” I grumbled, irritated by the shrill noise she was making. Couldn’t she understand I was helping? “Hush up.”
“Like hell I’m going to shut up!”
Her body squirmed in my arms. I breathed in deeply to regain my composure and clasped down harder. Her fists attempted to assault by pounding my back, but instead they felt like a much needed massage.
“There’s my arrow.”
Dilana’s accent wasn’t as pronounced as she spoke calmly, pulling the small arrow from the back of the woman’s thigh.
“Your what?” The woman screamed in pain. “Who the hell are you? What the fuck are you doing to me?”
“D, that was stupid,” I said. Setting the woman down on the bed of the truck, I ripped off my Ed Hardy t-shirt and strapped it to her leg. “You never pull out a protruding object. I loved that shirt. You’re buying me a’notheren.”
“Why? You have four of that one.”
“Three,” I corrected, irritated with the whole situation. “’Cuz of you. No gift wrap needed either.”
The woman’s eyes looked back and forth and she seemed bewildered we weren’t even noticing her screams. Little did she know we weren’t in our own world, and she wasn’t just something our hands were working with. She was all I could think about and I’m sure Dilana was trying to figure out how to avoid Gabriel’s wrath on this one.
I would only face an extension on my sentence. Dilana, having chosen to marry and become an other, had Kiyoshi to worry about. Length of sentence wasn’t her concern now. Gabriel had other tricks for her.
As for me, the woman's injury wasn’t the only thing I was thinking about which was odd for me. I'd endured over a hundred odd years of celibacy brought on more by a self-imposed impotence. I had no desire to ever be with another woman in this life.
I don’t know if it was the way she looked at me, a pleading look for help, but I knew no matter the cost, I'd make sure she made it home safely. I had to protect her.
The woman squirmed underneath my hand, which seemed massive on her hips. She kicked me with her good leg, hitting my thigh which felt like a small dog jumping up on my leg. I turned to look at her body splayed in front of me, her hips and curves clearly defined by her skintight outfit. Her arms, thighs and hips all had smooth muscular definition. Never before had the curve of a hip made my mind rush to the thought of holding a woman close to me. But this woman’s body not only stirred the quiet beast inside me, it made me remember I wasn’t a eunuch. I was a man. And a man protects what’s his. I shook my head to remove the thought.
“What are you going to do with me?” She cried, shaking in fear.
“Nothing. We’ll treat you and let you go.”
“Right, like I believe that. I just saw…”
“What did you see?” I growled, staring into her eyes. “Nothing is what you saw.”
“Fine, I saw nothing. Drop me at the hospital and I’ll make my own way home. You’re right, I saw nothing. I know nothing. I can keep my mouth shut. Just…just…”
“Hush up,” I ordered and threw her in the cab of Dilana’s truck. “Take my bike,” I barked at Dilana.
“No. I got my truck.”
“I said I’m taking the truck.”
I slammed the door and threw the truck into drive. Stomping hard on the gas, the truck pealed away from the side of the road, leaving Dilana standing stunned in my wake. I looked at the woman who crouched against the passenger door of the pickup and grunted.
“Look. Really. You can drop me…anywhere.”
Her hand was pressed hard against the window and the fear emanating off her made my stomach churn. I hated when women feared me, but I understood why. I was scary. Disgusting. No woman wanted me and that’s how I wanted it. Staring straight ahead, I kept my eyes focused and my jaw tight. There was no way this couldn't end badly. I hated the noon demons. Half the time they escaped because we didn’t want the normals to find out. This last idiot turned down a dirt road which gave us a chance, but no, some dumb ass, wench had to be running down it. Why the hell would this woman be running at one in the afternoon? Didn’t she have a life? I said a silent prayer of forgiveness for calling her such a hateful name.
I could see her hand was reaching for the door handle which made me wonder if she actually thought she was could jump and survive. I laughed.
“I wouldn’t try it,” I warned, shooting a look at her.
Her breathing increased and I could see the tears in her eyes.
“Don’t cry,” it came out as an order but it was really more of a plea. “It won’t help.”
“Don’t tell me what the hell to do,” she screamed with a fury I wasn’t prepared for. Her eyes bore into me as she braced herself against the dashboard and the headrest. “If you think I’m just going let you touch…”
“I don’t want to touch you,” I snapped.
That made her catch her breath and her arms released their hold and crossed on her chest. Now she actually looked like she was pouting.
“What? I’m just supposed to want to get between your legs because there’s a hole there. Nah.”
“Why did you grab me?” She growled through gritted teeth like I'd just line jumped her at Target.
“You’re not going toward the hospital.”
“No, I’m not. They couldn’t help you.”
“Because the poison that’s about to hit you in the next, say, five minutes, would take them hours to figure out.”
Shock crossed her face as she saw her death coming on fast. I really didn’t care. I’m sure my sudden desire to become a savior was only due to my fear of Gabriel’s wrath. At least that’s what I was telling myself.