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.
Prologue
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?
Chapter 1
Kiriana
Kladshon
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?
No.
Empty
cupboard?
No.
Top shelf in
the fridge?
Yes.
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.
“What,
Baby?”
“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.
Damarion
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.
Nye
“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.
“What?”
“Grab her,”
Dilana ordered.
“Right.”
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
hurt.”
“You’re not
going toward the hospital.”
“No, I’m
not. They couldn’t help you.”
“Why?”
“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.
Thank you for having me by
ReplyDeleteYou're most welcome my friend :) Always a pleasure...
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