Iniquity (The Premonition Series Book 5)

by Amy A. Bartol

  “No.”

  “Whah? No? De ye jus say no ta me?”

  “That’s right. I said no. You’re not allowed to come get me.”

  His fangs engage with a click. “Genevieve...”

  “And put your fangs away! I’ve had it with being bullied!” I rub my forehead as it begins to ache.

  Brennus retracts his fangs. His voice holds a note of concern. “Why are ye unconscious?”

  “You want to help me Brennus? Teach me some of your defensive spells.”

  He takes a step toward me and I straighten in uncertainty. He pauses, seeing my reaction. “May I approach ye?” he asks.

  “Why?”

  “Humor me.”

  I incline my head and he comes to me and takes my hand in his. With his other hand he sweeps his arm wide. Every piece of furniture in the middle of the room moves against the far wall.

  “What are you doing?” I ask with a cynical raise of my brow.

  “I’m going ta teach ye how ta take someone’s energy. Before I can do dat, ye first have ta learn ta accept someone else’s energy—”

  “I know how to do that.”

  “Do ye?” he asks. “From whah I’ve seen, ye never accept energy as yer own. Ye pass it on—ye get rid of it as fast as ye can. Ye never hold on ta it. Ye never claim it as yer due for being a powerful craitur.”

  “My due?” I ask skeptically.

  “Yer due.” He takes me in his arms then.

  “What are you doing?” I squeak as I try to pull away from him.

  “I’m getting ye used ta accepting energy from someone else.”

  I try to squirm out of his arms. “Isn’t there another way?”

  “Do ye want me help or na?” Brennus asks.

  I stop squirming. “Yes.”

  “Foin,” he nods. “Dis may be easier for ye if we move. Ye’re fidgety.”

  “I’m uncomfortable. This is awkward.”

  He glances around the room and his eyes rest on an elegant wooden cabinet in the corner. A wicked smile plays upon his lips as he waves his hand at it. The lid opens. It’s a Victrola. The crank on the side of the contraption moves on its own. The arm of the record player magically drops to the turntable. The music begins. The first few notes have Brennus laughing like he’s heard the funniest joke of his life.

  “What?” I ask, unable to keep my smile from showing as he grins at me.

  “’Tis ‘L’Amour Est un Oiseau Rebelle’—Habanera...’Tis da aria from Carmen...da opera...” I shake my head in confusion, unfamiliar with the song.

  As it plays, I listen to a woman sing. “L’amour est un oiseau rebelle...Love is a rebellious bird?” I translate, seeing that the joke is on me.

  His eyes glow with green fire. “Indeed, she is.”

  “Did you see this opera when it opened?” I ask, taking a jab at his age.

  He ignores it. “I’ll take ye ta see it. Ye’ll love it.” He holds me close in his arms. We begin to dance. One of his hands travels up my side, infusing me with the raw power of his energy as it goes. I gasp as the current flows under my skin. I bite down on my lip as pleasure-pain makes me breathe deep.

  Brennus murmurs in my ear, “Bite down hard, it feels better.”

  He’s right. I clench my teeth. He guides me around the room; we skip ahead at supernatural speed for a few moments. His energy spreads through me, first from my heart, through the roadmap of my veins, to places I never wanted Brennus to go. I gasp as my body involuntarily curls toward him like a flower to the sun, for the pleasure of it. He holds me close to him. His nose grazes the length of my neck. He breathes me in. I feel the roar and rush of my heartbeat. I’m his toy; his energy streams into me. He winds the invisible key in my back and the euphoria ratchets and coils inside of me: tick...tick...tick...

  We slow to a human pace. He bends me in a dip; my back arches. I feel the heat of him. His hand holds my back while the other one traces over my side. I respond to his light touch; my skin becomes a magnet drawn to his. He straightens me again with a snap, pulling me close. His fingertips travel from the side of my breast to my back. Another wicked surge of energy flows from him into me. Pain. Pleasure. Bliss. My jaw unclenches as my lips part. I make a small, breathy sound as we dance.

  Brennus responds with something close to a growl. “Ye’re killing me, mo chroí,” he murmurs. His hand moves down my back infusing me with a golden glow of power. My wings punch violently from me, tearing a hole in my day dress. My wings spread wide, like a red stain beyond my pale skin. I’m dancing now for the thrill of it. I follow his lead.

  As the song comes to an end, Brennus kisses my throat. He whispers in my ear, “When ye get back, come find me, mo chroí. I’ve healed ye...now wake up and banjax whoever banished ye here...”

  My eyes fly open and I sit up, finding myself in a bed. Energy is overpowering me and it’s all I can do to keep from bursting into flames. My hands and arms are glowing golden with power and I’m unaware of where I am until Xavier says my name.

  I glance at the foot of my bed and realize I’m in my room in my old house. Xavier rises from the upholstered chair by the window with a vigilant look in his eyes.

  I groan in pain, feeling like an overstuffed plush animal, the taut seams of which might tear open at any moment. Hoping not to be disemboweled by the energy inside me, I say urgently, “Open the window!”

  Xavier stares at me like I’ve grown fangs. “What? Evie, how are y—”

  “Now!” I cry, “Open it now!”

  At supernatural speed, he moves from his chair and slides open the sash. As soon as he steps away from it, I let go of some of the energy that Brennus infused in me. It shines out of my pores in a concentrated, golden beam, hitting the snow-covered tree in the backyard. The snow melts instantly; the tree bursts into flames and is reduced to a pile of ash around a stump within seconds.

  Now that I can control the remaining energy pulsing inside me, I turn my attention to Xavier. His hand is bare. “You’re not wearing your ring,” I observe.

  He reaches for the pocket of his dark blue jeans that are slung low on his hips. I don’t give him a chance to slip his ring on. Using magic, I lift him off his feet and pin him to the ceiling of my room.

  “Where’s Reed?” I demand. I can’t feel butterflies inside me. He isn’t near. “Did you hurt him?” My stomach aches at the thought that Xavier might have killed him.

  “What would you do if I did?” There’s sadness in his eyes.

  It feels like he used his nails to scratch my heart. “Did you?” I croak.

  Another surge of magical energy from me presses him harder into the plaster. He pants in anger, “He’s alive—he’s with your father.” Xavier tries to move his arms, but they’re pinned to the ceiling.

  Relief makes me feel weak. “And where’s that,” I probe.

  He stubbornly closes his mouth. I retract the energy holding him up and let him drop a couple of feet before I thrust him back toward the ceiling again with it. The impact causes cracks to snake out in the plaster as it crumbles against the onslaught. Xavier grits his teeth.

  “Where are they?” I repeat. He doesn’t say a word so I drop him again, farther this time, and then brutally slam him back to the ceiling. He hits it hard and scowls in pain. I have to force my next question from my lips. “Did you defeat him?”

  Xavier’s smile is one of bitterness. “We stopped fighting when you fell. We both believed the whistle had killed you.”

  I close my eyes and thank God before I manage to say, “You look like you’re surprised by what happened.”

  He pauses and something enters his eyes. Fear. But it’s only there for a moment before it disappears. “It’s supposed to be a key, Evie, not a weapon. You have no idea what you looked like, do you? When I saw you on the ground, I expected to see your soul rise from you at any moment. You were bleeding from your eyes and your ears—I could hear your lungs filling—you were drowning in blood internally.”

  �
�I’m fine,” I say to the morbid question I see in his eyes.

  “How are you fine? I thought you were dying.”

  Brennus’ last few words resonate within me: I’ve healed ye...now wake up and banjax whoever banished ye here...

  I give him a ghost of a smile. “You don’t know everything about me. Learn my secrets if you want to stay ahead of me.

  That makes him angry. “You shouldn’t have opened the doorway to Sheol! It could’ve sucked you in.”

  “I didn’t know what it was.”

  “Your father told you it was a key!”

  “He failed to mention it would possess me the moment I touched it!” I retort.

  “None of us knew you’d react to it as you did. Heaven has been keeping secrets from us all!”

  “Welcome to my world, Xavier.”

  “You knew the tone to use to open the doorway! Tau said you whispered something just before you used the key.”

  I rub my forehead anxiously. “I...when I picked it up...I knew the way to enter. I wanted to go, but it made me sick at the same time—but I knew I had to go. They need me.”

  “Who needs you?”

  I shake my head. “I don’t know.”

  “Do you remember what you said?”

  I think for a second. “In your hideaway, towers grow, so far away, in the dark of Sheol...” I groan, and look around like I’ve lost something. “There’s more...it’s on the tip of my tongue...arrrghhh,” I growl in frustration.

  “Using the key to close the door almost killed you. It’s like you were meant to go to Sheol and the fact that you remained here almost destroyed you.”

  “Why would I need a key anyway? Don’t angels go in and out of Sheol all the time?”

  He looks at me like I’m completely naïve. “There are gateways between this world and Sheol but they’re all known to us. We guard them from this side and Sheol guards them from the other side. Sometimes there are tears in the fabric between your world in which demons and Fallen slip through. But mostly, there’s balance—small doors that close and don’t open again for long periods of time. The boatswain creates a gateway where none existed. You could theoretically control the flow of beings in and out of Sheol with it.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means if you were to open the gateway big enough, you could march an army through it.”

  I shiver as all the hair on my body stands on end because he’s speaking the truth. “Where’s Reed?” Pieces of the ceiling fall to the bedroom floor as I force Xavier harder against it in panic. “I need him.” He’s the only person that can drive away the fear that threatens to overwhelm me.

  The set of Xavier’s jaw indicates that he’s done talking.

  “You don’t like that question? Here’s a different one: Where were you?” I ask, choking on betrayal.

  His expression loses some of its defiance. “When?” he asks.

  “When I was Simone and being tortured by Emil.” I hiss. “You made me go back to him in Lille. You wouldn’t let me leave Emil until I found out his next position, would you? Even with everything you knew about him! You knew he was a complete monster! You knew what he was doing to me! The brutality I suffered at his hands!”

  A smile forms on Xavier’s lips “You remember me—you remember us?” His elation is eclipsing his pain.

  “I remember being tortured by Emil and abandoned by you! It’s a theme with you!”

  His smile is gone. “I never abandoned you! I’ve never walked away from you!”

  “You let him have me,” I whisper, wretched with the knowledge of what he allowed to happen to me.

  “It was our purpose, Evie! It’s what we do. We subvert evil. I couldn’t touch him in that lifetime—I’m an angel and he was human. It had to be you, human verses human. It’s how things are done. You knew going into that lifetime what could happen to you. What ALWAYS happens!”

  “And what always happens, Xavier?”

  “There is always a consequence—a price to pay! You die at the end. Period. Every time. You were human and that’s how it always ends.”

  “Simone didn’t know that though, did she?” I ask. “She had no idea she was there to take one for the team. She thought you were her savior—her human British soldier who’d rescue her from the sociopath who wanted to destroy her—to take her apart piece by piece—inch by inch. You abandoned her to Emil—to that evil bastard!”

  “You used to understand that once you were sent to Earth to live a life, I couldn’t reveal who or what I really am to you. This is the ONLY lifetime in which that no longer applies. This was going to be the first time I could reveal who I am to you while on Earth because you’re angelic now, too,” he explains. “But to answer your question: NO! My plan was to extract Simone before he killed you. I never meant to leave you there with Emil. Our plan went wrong. Evil won that time. Some missions end that way, Evie. You used to know that!”

  I feel so hurt by him that I’m nearly overwhelmed by it. “I must’ve forgotten, Xavier, but you know what? Screw your missions! I don’t care about your missions! This is about you and me.”

  “You’re exactly right! It is about you and me. It’s about you being with me. And it has everything to do with this assignment and Emil!” I release Xavier from the magic that has him pinned to the ceiling. He falls toward the floor, but his wings unfurl from his back, shredding off his shirt; they beat hard, saving him from crashing into the floor. He hovers for a moment in the air before touching down at the foot of my bed.

  “Emil is back, isn’t he?” I ask, as fear starts to choke me.

  “He was just at the house in Crestwood,” he affirms. “You didn’t recognize him?”

  “His particular brand of darkness was familiar,” I admit, “but I didn’t know who Emil was until Tau blew that whistle and sent me into my memory.”

  “You scared me when you were unconscious. I thought you were never going to wake up,” he says, inching closer, touching the footboard of my bed. He looks so dangerous without his shirt on to hide the sinew and power beneath his skin.

  “The last whistle blow—the one that closed the door to Sheol—it made me go back—I was Simone again. I was living her memories.”

  “You had a dream?”

  “No. I was her—I was there—in Simone’s body.”

  “What did you see?”

  I feel bleak. “I saw how Emil was with me—obsessed, but not with love—with hate.”

  “He saw his opposite in you and pretended that you were the same—that he was like you. He always tried so hard to break you—to terrify you, but you’d been through it all before—pain, slaughter, death—you have lifetimes of experience with it.”

  “What happened to her? To me?” I amend. “How did Simone die?”

  Xavier tenses. “I don’t know. I was hoping you could tell me,” he says with an urgency that startles me.

  “Why don’t you know?” I ask in confusion.

  “I was called back at almost the same moment that Simone died. When I arrived in Paradise, you wouldn’t tell me what happened between you and Emil in the last hours of your life and I couldn’t remember much of that last day there.”

  “Why not?”

  “Something went more wrong than just you dying—it was like you were protecting something—a secret. I asked you to tell me—begged you. You wouldn’t say—no, it was more like you couldn’t say. You were called then—soon after.”

  “Called?” I ask.

  He smiles again and my heart beats faster. I want to be indifferent to him, but I’m not. There’s so much between us; I can sense it, the weight of it. It’s in every look, every nuance of his expressions. I know them well—bone deep, I know them. This is the smile he uses when he’s hurt and doesn’t want me to know. I don’t know how I know that, I just do. “You were called for another assignment and you went to discuss it alone.”

  “My going alone, is that unusual?” I probe.

  “I always
go with you,” he replies. “Russell is often there as well, but I’m always by your side.”

  “As my guardian angel?”

  “Yes—as your partner for missions, but this time when you met, I wasn’t invited to the discussion.”

  “I must have told you what it was about—”

  “You said that this was it for you—this was going to be your final mission. You wanted to be with me forever. Just me,” he explains, but then he frowns.

  I read his look. “You didn’t believe me—”

  He turns away from me. “Of course I believed you. You loved me as much as I loved you.”

  “But there was something more,” I assess.

  “You had a look,” he admits, his shoulders caving in a little.

  “What look?”

  “The sacrifice-your-soul look,” he replies. “I know it well. I’ve seen you wear it often.”

  “What reason would I have to sacrifice my soul?” I wonder aloud. “Revenge? Emil was sadistic. Do you think I’d come back for revenge?”

  He shakes is head. “You’re not vengeful, you’re forgiving. Can you think of another reason?” he asks me, probing my memory.

  “I don’t know,” I mutter. I put my hands to my temples, trying to see inside my mind for the answer that eludes me.

  “Emil is endowed with power like I’ve never seen until you—until now. Why was he granted such power? What happened between you and Emil in those last hours that would entitle him to acquire so much power?”

  “I don’t understand,” I murmur. “Are you saying I did something wrong on my last mission?”

  His jaw eases for a moment as he scans my eyes. He shakes his head and says quietly, “No, there’s nothing you could’ve done to have given the Fallen the ability to bestow such power on him. It couldn’t have been you—”

  I bound out of my bed and pace the room in agitation. “Then what could’ve gone wrong?”

  “I don’t know,” he admits, equally frustrated. “What I do know is it’s Emil’s soul who’s back. He has deadly powers, and we have to make him cease to be. Annihilate his soul so that it can never return.”