Revenge.
Ultimately, Delilah met Zar the following evening, driven by those dark, exhilarating emotions, but she was wary he might set a trap or fill her with lies, leaving her to figure out fact from fiction. He might even kill her. It was what he did, and the cruel joke would be on her. Delilah deserved death with these sinful thoughts consuming her. But she put her fears aside. Consequences be damned.
She had twisted herself up so tight for their first meeting that she jumped when she saw his shadow moving toward her. Zar looked just as surprised that she was there. She had her force field up, heart pounding in her chest, when he stopped in front of her. But Zar didn't threaten her. Instead, he asked questions about her and the confrontation with Michael. She gave partial answers concerning Conner, not wanting to reveal too much of her story. When she tried to turn the subject to him, he turned silent, was elusive, or ended their time with a promise for more tomorrow.
She'd grown impatient with him for answers to the questions he was evading. Delilah paced the secluded ground, her nerves stretched thin. Zar snuck up from behind, touching her shoulder.
"No force field tonight?"
She turned, meeting his neon-green eyes, which held a flicker of hope.
Shocked by her carelessness, she pushed past him, needing distance between them. "You kept me waiting for so long, I was getting ready to leave." She cringed at how feebly it rang.
"Or are you trusting me?" Zar tossed back at her.
Was she?
"Don't flatter yourself." Delilah rolled her eyes as she sat on the bench. She crossed her arms, raising her stubborn chin. "Where were you?"
She caught the gleam in his eyes. "I went on a mission."
She lifted an eyebrow. "What mission?"
"I may have gone to the Drakes’ house and caused a little mischief." He grinned, rubbing his hands together.
"What! You'll ruin−" Delilah cried, jumping off the bench.
"It's no big deal! I just flipped a few picture frames and shoved the nasty cat, who tried to bite me, in the closet. That feline would give our demon cats a run for their money." Zar smirked. "And I left her a present too perfect to ignore." His face brimmed with mischievous excitement, yet his stance was cavalier. He made a nonchalant shrug. "It was fun."
Delilah paced, running her hands through her red locks. Dread filled her as she imagined the type of "present" he had left.
If Conner thinks she had anything to do with it...
"What present did you leave?" Her voice stretched tight.
"It was quite genius, actually. I added a black feather next to a white feather that looked so lonely in a pathetic little jar on her desk." He reached out and touched her wing. "It looked familiar, so I picked it up and sniffed it. Could it be yours, by chance?"
She closed her eyes and sighed, slapping his hand away.
Well, no turning back now.
Zar snorted in dismay. "I don't understand why you're pissed. In fact, I expected you to be thrilled that I messed with her." He put his hands on his hips and walked away. "Whatever," he mumbled.
"It's time we have a serious talk. You set wheels in motion, but I guess it's for the best." Delilah walked up to him. He loomed over her, his dark wings blocking her view of the parking lot. A strange excitement zipped through her as she ignored her surroundings and saw only him. He became a pawn for her plan and her new life.
"I know what I want to accomplish, but the question is, can you help me?"
His eyes turned flat, his body taut, leaning toward her. Delilah knew she was playing a treacherous game. Her eyes slid over the two deadly knives dangling from his hips. The silver pommels each had a large green jewel encased at the end. They gleamed with a promise of a quick death.
"What exactly do you surmise I can help you with?" Zar's cold, lethal voice sent a shiver through her spine.
"I want revenge, plain and simple." Delilah stared back at the hospital, imagining Conner clinging to his wife. It was like a knife filleted her heart open, forever releasing her feelings of betrayal and desire for revenge. "I want to destroy Conner and his family." She looked back at Zar. "I want to destroy Michael." She paused, wondering if she could speak the words playing in her mind... and own them. "I want to be free."
A stunned silence settled, her harsh, ugly words hanging between them. But Delilah felt no remorse or even evil. Instead, she was relieved, cloaked in a peaceful calm from having uttered the dark truth she'd been dying to declare out loud.
"Afraid you missed your chance, Delilah. There was only one way to be set free, and that happened when we left Heaven. You can hurt Connor and his family... that's easy. I'll help you fulfill that wish." Zar scoffed, shaking his head. "But Michael and true freedom? That's a pipe dream."
Driven by her new sense of purpose, Delilah stepped closer to Zar. His smell of smoke didn't repulse her anymore; it only added fire to the growing flame burning inside her. A sly smile slid across her lips as she rose on her tiptoes, whispering, "I have a secret."
Zar's eyes ignited, either from her words or her breath floating across his face. "I do love a naughty secret," he whispered back, trailing a finger across her cheek.
Zar's touch sent a tingle through her, awakening sensations she'd long considered lost. He met her gaze with dangerous curiosity while his body signaled that Delilah might need her force field against him.
"What if I told you"−she leaned up, lips so close they could touch−"I can get my freedom and give Lucifer what he desires... to destroy Heaven." A raw power inside her vibrated, demanding a channel and gratification at all costs.
His brows furrowed while his tongue skimmed over his bottom lip. "I'd say you're mad, but I'm very intrigued." Zar grabbed a strand of her hair, tugging playfully. "Tell me more."
She smiled, her face lighting up with her newfound confidence. She cocked her head as a breeze rustled her silky hair. Zar's sharp intake of breath confirmed that her beauty magnified in this moment of power and control.
Oh, yeah... I could get used to this.
"Maybe tomorrow... or the next day." She took a few hurried steps back, transforming into an orb. "Until then..."
"Hey!" Zar reached out, irritated surprise etched on his face, but she'd vanished.
Holding all the cards, and all the power.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Olivia
Fresh clothes and a hot shower did little to change Olivia's disposition. She was pissed, exhausted, and sick of being kept in the dark by her parents. Coming home to broken frames was a scary invasion of her home, a place she'd always felt safe. Finding Thunder locked in her closet made her furious. But the black feather lying in the jar, a sinister yet seemingly innocent addition, was meant to send her a dire warning. She understood the intended message.
We're watching you, we can get to you, and there's nothing you can do to stop us.
Wrong.
But who did this?
She ran the scenarios in her head while Zach and Sergio drove her back to the hospital. Did a stranger break into their house? No. The feather ruled that out.
Did her father go home and do those things to mess with her because he wanted to frighten her? She didn't think so. Her dad was too concerned about Mom and trying to bridge a relationship with Olivia. Even though Olivia wanted it to be him, it didn't make sense for him to sabotage what he wanted: his family back together.
There was only one answer.
Demons.
Zach dropped her off at the entrance. "I'll call you later. Good luck."
She nodded. "Thank you." She waved as the truck drove away.
The hospital doors whooshed open, accosting her with pine-scented ammonia. She ignored the smell and headed for her mom's room. Her long hair fanned out behind her as her shoes slapped against the floor.
A nurse stopped short, coming out of a room. Her medical tray vibrated, knocking over a few empty cups. "Hey," the nurse called, but Olivia charged past, mumbling apologies. She set
her mind to one thing: Mom's room and the answers behind it.
She opened the door.
And froze.
Dad didn't stop what he was doing. In fact, he didn't even acknowledge her. His large frame leaned over the foot of the bed with the blanket pulled back, exposing Mom's bare feet. He held a long, thin needle between his fingers, twisting into her big toe. Olivia gasped as she looked at Mom's head. On her scalp were more hideous thin needles, protruding like she was a voodoo doll. Olivia’s eyes narrowed, looking back at Dad as her upper lip peeled back. He glanced at her, continuing to twist the needle.
"What are you doing to her!" Olivia rushed over to push him away, but it was like trying to move a mountain. "You're hurting her... Get away from her!" She slapped his arm.
"Olivia, stop!" He stepped back and grabbed both of her hands, dragging her away from the bed. "I'm not harming her. It's acupuncture. I am just trying to help her!"
She tried to yank her arms free, but he didn't let go. She looked back at the needles covering Mom, livid at him for attempting such a thing. "I don't care what you assume will help!" She struggled more, her heart racing in her fight to free herself. "Let me go!"
She stumbled back when he released her. He rubbed the back of his neck as his eyes examined the places the long needles nestled like slim spikes aimed at Mom's broken body.
"How did you learn acupuncture?" She fumed at his audacity, horrified at the sight of the needles protruding from Mom.
He scrubbed his face and ran his thick fingers through his hair. "I learned things when I was younger... and..." He shrugged. "While I was away."
"Away?" She sneered at him. Something snapped inside, her face flushing with the bolt of emotion. "You make it sound like you were on vacation or a long sabbatical becoming oh-so-wise and worldly." She scoffed, turning her back on him. Olivia took her mom's hand, rubbing it between hers, trying to warm up it.
"We weren't on vacation learning new things." Her tone scathed at him. "We didn't run away from our problems. Mom and I stood our ground, holding it together, while you were"−she looked over her shoulder with frosty blue eyes−"away."
"Olivia−"
"Take these awful needles out right now. You had no right to do this with asking me first." She kept her back to him as angry tears threatened to fall. He began to slowly untwist the delicate needles. He placed them inside a long, thin wooden box on the metal nightstand.
"Just to clarify something, I don't need your permission to take care of my wife. I asked the doctor, and he was on board." Dad closed the box lid, the click echoing in the heated silence. "You may not enjoy hearing this, but I'm back to stay." His voice rose with each syllable. "And you know what? She's happy about it too, kiddo, so you"−he jabbed a finger at her−"better get on board with the reality of what's happening."
"Reality? You're going to lecture me on reality when all you do is keep me away from reality! Keep me safe in a make-believe bubble because you and Mom don't think I can handle the truth. Well, I'm sick of it!" She released Mom's hand and faced the man who had caused her years of pain.
"Our plan was to lay it all out for you the night of her accident so you could understand why I had to leave and what is ahead−"
"Right... Why don't I trust that? Something else would have sprung up, an excuse why you couldn't be honest and stand before me like a man." Olivia's chest heaved as her bitter words spewed, fueled by the force of her locked door bursting like a dam, no longer holding back her tormented emotions. "The only reason you returned is because she called you, not because you chose to come home. So, don't talk about this new reality, because you don't even know what reality is!" Olivia jabbed her finger back at him.
Dad's face flushed as his jaw twitched, but she couldn't read his hooded eyes. "I'm sorry you feel that way. I hope when you learn the truth, you'll understand better."
Olivia rolled her eyes. "The only truth I'll accept is what Mom tells me. You've got no credibility with me. For all I know, you'll leave us again if things get too tough or you realize you don't love us... or me... after all." A heavy silence settled in the room.
There... She set it free. The opened door has emptied, now merely a void for his lies to fill it again.
"Is that what you think? That I don't love you?" His voice was low and hoarse. Color, a moment ago vivid on his face, drained as he shook his head in disbelief. "I love you and your mom... more than you will ever know," he whispered as he dropped back against the chair.
It stunned her that she had spoken her worst fear to him. But letting out those words, locked away for so long, was freeing. She was the brave one for telling the truth and facing reality, not him. She didn't care about his hurt, only her hunger for answers. It gave her the courage to ask more questions. The silence stretched, except for the faint beeping of the machines and the roar inside Olivia's head.
"I honestly don't care anymore why Mom told you to leave or why you did. Those years are lost, and you don't get them back. I need to ask you questions, and I need real answers."
He looked up at her and nodded, still looking shell-shocked.
"No more lies or trying to protect me."
"All right."
Here I go...
"Did you come into our home, break glass picture frames and leave behind a black feather in my room?"
He leaped out of the chair, bearing down on her with intense blue eyes. "What do you mean a black feather?" he asked, with such ferocity that she stepped back.
"A long black crow feather covered with a little ash." She flipped her hair to the side, putting her hands on her hips. "Some other kinda black feather I should know about too?"
Dad's lips stretched into a thin line. She could almost hear him counting to three. She didn't care. Maybe he'd count to a hundred and then leave. With surprising speed, he came around to Olivia's side of the bed, stopping in front of her. The anger rolled off of him, but something else filled his eyes.
Fear.
"I didn't leave a black feather in your room." Dad pronounced each word like chimes striking at midnight. "I haven't been back to the house since I left a week ago." He rubbed his jaw as pained eyes gazed at her. "It was most likely a... um... demon."
Now it was her turn to be shocked. Even though a part of her knew this was the answer, to have it said out loud brought home how much danger they faced. Her next question was lost in her tongue-tied mouth. She swallowed hard, battling back the trembling growing in her bones.
"Olivia... " He put his hands on her arms. "Your mom called me because your time is now here." She scrunched up her face, doubt swimming through her. "Your whole life is going to change, and it's because of me."
"And me," Mom whispered. Olivia thought it was a figment of her imagination, but she turned and met the most wonderful pair of soft brown eyes.
"Mom!"
"Stella!"
Laughter and chaos erupted. Relief, mixed with Dad's comments, had her body shaking.
A teardrop fell on her Mom's cheek when Olivia bent over and kissed her. "Hi, Mom," she whispered against her pale face. "I'm so glad you're awake. How are you doing?"
"Hey, Stel," Dad said from above her. Mom's eyes darted above Olivia's head as her tears trickled from the corners of her eyes, trailing to the white pillow.
"I love you both so much," Mom said in a dry, hoarse voice. She grew agitated as she tried to speak. "The two boys in the car... that hit me... how−" Olivia barely heard her words.
Olivia and Dad's eyes locked for a moment. "Honey, there was only one boy-−"
"No!" She shook her head. "Two. I'm sure." The machines beeped quicker as she became more upset.
"Mom, it's okay.... Just please... relax." Olivia tried to soothe her, stroking her hand.
A nurse rushed in and paused when she spotted her awake. "Yes!" She made a fist pump and exited. The room became crowded as a doctor and two nurses returned. Olivia released her Mom's hand, backing away. She watched them check the machines and ask h
er mom questions, but she soon slipped back asleep.
"This is an excellent sign." The nurse smiled at her as they left the room. Olivia could only nod. Claustrophobia crept inside her, smothered by her overwhelmed emotions.
"I need some air." Olivia stumbled into the corridor before her dad replied. Her feet moved from the room while her mind grappled with the thoughts raging inside her.
Mom was awake, but she saw two boys in the car?
Did Dad truly love her, or was he just playing her?
How did he know a demon left the black feather?
How was Olivia's life going to change so drastically because of both her parents?
Olivia was running by the time she exited the hospital's automatic doors. Her legs pumped, even as a sharp pain shot through her bum knee. She continued through the parking lot, not heeding a car's horn blast or the squeal of its tires. She pushed until she tumbled onto a park bench across the lot. Olivia closed her eyes, welcoming the sun's warmth on her face. She leaned back, breathing in deep to loosen her anxiety.
Her eyes shot open as a swirl of icy air crept over her. Goosebumps raised on her skin as she sensed someone watching her. The wisp of air circled around her, leaving a trail of shivers. She peeked over her shoulder but spotted only trees. Her mark throbbed, igniting her to jump off the bench. She bolted for the entrance doors, all the while feeling an itch in the middle of her back. It wasn't until she was inside that the throbbing ebbed.
Had a demon been hiding in the woods, waiting for her?
Was this how she'd live her life, waiting for her mark to throb and then run for her life?
No. She couldn't endure like that.
And didn't plan to.
Mark of Orion Page 17
