King of the Wicked (The Banished Series Book 1)

by T. R. Hamby

  Lisia looked, and Nora watched, frozen, as he let out a moan, petrified with fear, his eyes going wide. Mel’s head was still cocked to the side, and he was staring back at Lisia, and his eyes were black as night.

  Lisia went gray, and slumped over. Mel let him crumple to the ground.

  Then he looked at Nora, and raced to her side. “Did he hurt you?” he asked, gripping her arms. His eyes were returning to their natural blue color, the air around them warming.

  She was only shaking a little. But she still clung to him, wrapping her arms around his neck. He felt so safe, so strong.

  “He didn’t hurt me,” she whispered, as he held her. “But he wouldn’t let me go…”

  Images of Patrizio strangling her flashed through her mind, and she shivered.

  “I was across the street,” he moaned, rubbing circles into her back. “I can hardly see in here...I wanted to make sure I saw you...I’m sorry, Nora…”

  She shook her head. He was warm against her, and he held her so gently. She wasn’t shaking as much now, and her anxiety was beginning to lessen.

  “It’s okay,” she replied, and she pulled away to look at him. He still looked nervous, staring at her with worried eyes. She squeezed his hand. “It’s over. Let’s go...get away from him…”

  They walked back to the hotel. Mel kept an arm around her, glancing at her every few seconds, as if making sure she was still okay. She gave him a reassuring look, though she was still a little shaken up. When they got to their room she made a beeline for the shower, wanting to get all traces of Alex Lisia off of her skin.

  She stood under the hot water and hugged herself. She hadn’t expected him to grab her. She knew he hadn’t been trying to hurt her, but it had still been horrible. To know that those hands had killed someone in cold blood...after years of abusing them first. They had touched her. And he wouldn’t let her go, either, when she had told him to.

  “Do you want to be alone?” Mel’s voice suddenly said, and she looked over her shoulder. He was at the door, his shirt unbuttoned.

  She shook her head, and he undressed, stepping into the shower and standing under the water. He brushed his hair back, then turned and wrapped his arms around her. She laid her head on his chest and closed her eyes, feeling her shoulders relax.

  Now she felt safe.

  After a long moment she looked up at him. “Are you okay?” she murmured.

  He squeezed her. “That was hard for me too.”

  “I know. I’m sorry--I wish it was different. But I have to hold up my end of the deal. Just like you and Michael.”

  He nodded, though he looked pained. “You’re unkillable now, Nora,” he whispered, “but you can still get hurt. That’s what scares me.”

  “I have to be quicker,” she said. “I just froze with him--I should have--”

  “That was a natural reaction,” he replied firmly. “He took you by surprise. It’s not always going to be about what I taught you. It’ll never be controlled like that.”

  She shivered, and he held her tighter. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to scare you.”

  “I don’t want to scare you either,” she said. She looked at him, reaching up and brushing a lock of hair from his face. “I have to do this, Mel.”

  He took her hand and kissed it. His face was pained, but he nodded. “I know.”

  Nora couldn’t help but smile. “I guess it’s time we restart those fighting lessons,” she said, and he chuckled.

  Then he frowned, cocking his head. “I wonder if Gilla would benefit from those,” he said curiously. “It might make her feel more...in control.”

  She thought for a moment, tracing her fingers down the scar on his chest.

  “It might,” she said slowly. “If she wants to do it. The sparring would probably bring back a lot of...memories.”

  “What if she was fighting you?” he said, and she felt her ears perk up.

  “Yeah...that’s a good idea...a very good idea...I’ll talk to her about it.”

  “I’ve been known to have good ideas.”

  She studied him, brushing at his hair again. “Are you okay?”

  Mel hesitated, looking down.

  After a moment he looked at her. “I’m scared for you,” he said.

  Her heart ached. She felt almost selfish, for promising God to help catch bad guys. She had stupidly thought that becoming Immortal would solve Mel’s worries. But it hadn’t. She was still vulnerable, and he would still be afraid.

  Before she could speak he took her hand. “But...you’re good at this. You’re smart--smarter than Michael and I--”

  “That’s not true--”

  “--and you’re ingenious,” he added, smiling. “Rather like someone I used to know.” He paused, then continued, “This is your task now. I support you.”

  She let out a sigh, relieved. Then she slipped her arms back around his neck, giving him a kiss. “We make a good team, don’t we?”

  He smirked. “You make a good captain, diletta.”

  Gilla

  Six Months Later

  It was Christmas Day. Gilla woke early--she always woke early on Christmas. Michael was fast asleep, and the rest of Nora’s apartment was quiet.

  Perfect.

  She got up, washed her face and brushed her teeth, and went out to the kitchen, flicking the lights on. She raided the fridge and the pantry, smiling to herself. She was going to cook breakfast, and everyone would love it.

  She tried not to hum as she worked. Christmas was her favorite time of year. The tree sat in Nora’s living room, tinseled and sparkling, with the presents lying on the skirt underneath. Michael’s big present--a rare vintage guitar--was sitting to the side, having been snuck there in the middle of the night. She felt a thrill of excitement; he would love it when he saw it.

  They had visited her parents for a few days, right up to Christmas Eve. It had been wonderful. Mamma and Pappa had taken Michael in instantly, the first time they had visited. This second time around was like a family reunion. Michael was constantly chatting with her father, and helping in the kitchen with her mother. It was like they had adopted him, and Gilla was grateful.

  She heard the door to Nora’s bedroom open, and looked out over the counter. It was Mel, his hair tousled, barefoot and wearing a T-shirt and sweatpants.

  He approached the counter, smiling quizzically. “God Jul,” he greeted, Swedish for Merry Christmas.

  “God Jul,” she replied, smiling. “I wanted to make everyone breakfast.”

  “That’s nice of you. Can I help?”

  “No,” she said firmly, shaking her head, “you sit and relax.”

  He looked amused, but sat at the counter, watching her work.

  She smiled at him. “You’re finally sleeping?”

  “Some,” he said. “It comes back gradually. Along with the nightmares,” he added dryly.

  She studied him, mixing eggs and flour together in a bowl. “Is that why you’re awake now?”

  He seemed embarrassed that he had brought it up, but shrugged and nodded.

  She looked down, studying the contents of the bowl, stirring pensively. She had once been doing this very thing, when Will had come up behind her, grabbing her neck.

  Don’t worry. It’ll be over soon.

  No. She shook herself. She wasn’t going to think about that today. It was Christmas, and she was happy. Everyone was happy.

  Still, she couldn’t help but say, “I get nightmares too.”

  He nodded gently. “Are the lessons helping at all?”

  She had finally agreed to “fighting lessons” a couple months ago. Every Friday the four of them would meet at an old warehouse Mel had purchased. Mel and Michael would take turns teaching Gilla--and Nora, too--how to defend themselves. It had been slow going for Gilla--so much of what they did took her right back to Will. There were a couple times when they had to stop early, as she could feel a panic attack coming on. But everyone was gentle, understanding, and she was getting bette
r with each session.

  She nodded. “A little.”

  “Good. We want you to be happy.”

  She was touched by this statement. She and Mel hadn’t become particularly close in the past few months, although he had always been sweet to her. It meant a lot that he wanted her to be happy too.

  She smiled. “You all make me happy...much happier,” she added shyly, “than I’ve been in a while.”

  He didn’t reply, but his silence was comforting. They were like this for a while, Gilla baking scones and mixing creams while Mel sat, looking thoughtful.

  Then Michael emerged, still looking half-asleep.

  He smiled at her, drawing to her and wrapping his arms around her waist. He didn’t seem to notice Mel as he kissed her temple. She looked up at him, happy to see the smile on his face. She knew he was happy--happy to be with her, happy to have spent time with her parents--happy to be with them now, even with Mel--although they were still barely speaking. She knew he felt like he belonged, once again.

  She gave him a kiss. “God Jul.”

  “God Jul,” he murmured, and in her ear he whispered, “alskling.”

  She felt a wonderful thrill; Michael very rarely used terms of endearment. She didn’t mind--it just wasn’t his style--but whenever he did use them, she melted.

  She leaned into him. She was the safest she had felt in a long time. She never felt like she had to look over her shoulder when he was holding her like this.

  Michael finally seemed to notice Mel, because he stiffened a little. Mel still hadn’t forgiven him for the Patrizio incident, and they were usually tense around each other, not speaking to each other unless necessary. Gilla and Nora had talked; they agreed the tension bothered both men, but Mel never seemed ready to bury the hatchet. Nora was getting impatient; it had been six months already.

  Now they just looked at each other, awkwardly, before Michael looked past Mel and spotted the guitar by the tree.

  He stared for a moment, looking struck. He started towards the guitar, looking over his shoulder at Gilla.

  “Is that--this is mine?”

  She giggled. “Who else would it be for?”

  He carefully lifted it from its stand, studying it in awed silence. He ran his fingers down the strings, fiddled gingerly with the tuning keys.

  He looked at Gilla again, and he still looked struck. “Did you get this?”

  She was smiling, trying not to laugh. “No.”

  “Nora?”

  As if on cue, Nora emerged from the bedroom, brushing at her eyes and yawning.

  “Did you get me this?” Michael exclaimed, making her jump a little.

  She saw the guitar in his hands and let out a chuckle. “You scared the shit out of me, Michael.”

  “Did you?”

  She glanced at Mel, who looked almost stony.

  She hesitated, then smiled at him. “Do you like it?”

  He set down the guitar, approached her and swept her into his arms, making her laugh.

  “I love it,” he said, grinning. He set her down and kissed her cheek. “Thank you.”

  “Try it out,” she insisted.

  He went back to it, rather like a child racing back to a forgotten toy. He picked it up, smiling so broadly that Gilla laughed, delighted to see him so happy.

  “’62,” he said, marveling. “Very rare. Where did you find it?”

  Nora seemed to know the answer to this. “It was on auction in Denmark,” she replied.

  He nodded vaguely, playing with the tuning keys again.

  “Go on,” Nora said, sitting on the couch. “Let’s hear it.”

  It was then that he hesitated, seeming to come out of the guitar’s spell. Gilla knew what the problem was--he had never played in front of Mel before. He was so private about his playing to begin with, and right now wasn’t the best time for them to be sharing in front of each other.

  She stood there for a moment, conflicted. She wasn’t the type to cause drama, or any kind of upset. But she had the strongest urge to announce who had really gifted the guitar to Michael. Mel, according to Nora, had come across the guitar in Farver, while bidding for a rare set of jewelry. He had lost out on the jewels, but got the guitar instead. Nora had asked why he had gotten Michael such a big gift when he was still so clearly angry with him. He didn’t have an answer, apparently. He didn’t know, and he didn’t want Michael to know either.

  Gilla decided to stay quiet. She didn’t need half the room to be upset with her for blabbing.

  Michael was still standing awkwardly. He strummed a couple times, avoiding everyone’s eyes. Then, almost without warning, he began to play, and play hard, crushing out a strong rhythm. The guitar was perfectly tuned--Gilla knew Mel had seen to that--and Michael played so deftly.

  When he finished, Gilla and Nora clapped. He rolled his eyes, though the corners of his lips were curving upwards. He set the guitar back in its stand, looking at it admiringly. Mel was stiff, his jaw working, and Nora whispered in his ear.

  Then he sprang up, clearing his throat and avoiding everyone’s eyes.

  “Client,” he muttered, taking his phone out of his pocket.

  He left the apartment, and there was an awkward silence. Gilla looked at Nora, who was biting her lip worriedly. Gilla then glanced at Michael, who looked somber. She had a feeling Mel didn’t have a client to speak with--not on Christmas.

  She went up to Michael, taking his hand, and he smiled at her. He looked so happy, and she was so grateful. If things could just be okay between him and Mel, the holiday would be perfect.

  Mel took about half an hour to return, looking troubled. They sat in the living room and opened the rest of their presents. Gilla got some designer clothes and a box of chocolates from Nora. Mel had made her a necklace, which touched her--a glossy mollusc shell on a delicate black cord. She put it on immediately.

  Finally, Michael’s present. He had already showered her with clothes and shoes for Christmas Eve--she suspected Nora had helped with all that. She gave him a mischievous look, wondering what else he had gotten her.

  It was wrapped in tissue paper, and she carefully tore it open. What sat inside was a wooden box, clearly handmade, with bright blue flowers painted on top. She opened it, and it played a gentle tune.

  She let out a breath, tracing her fingers along the polished wood.

  “Oh Gilla, it’s beautiful,” Nora said, straightening up to get a better look. “Is it a jewelry box?”

  Michael nodded, flushing. “I know you don’t wear a lot of jewelry,” he said quietly, “so I thought, you know, you could put other things in it too. Important things.” He shrugged. “There’s some drawers, and this level here pulls out, so you can put stuff in underneath.”

  “It’s a treasure chest,” Nora said, and he looked embarrassed.

  Gilla studied the box, which was lined with black velvet, the lid lifting on golden hinges. She couldn’t believe this was her life now--she had a family of friends, a girlfriend she could tell anything, and a partner she loved, who loved her too...who was kind and gentle. The best things.

  She smiled at him, wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him.

  “I love it,” she whispered. “Thank you.”

  He looked relieved. He glanced at Mel and Nora, who had busied themselves talking, and whispered in her ear, “You saved me.”

  She felt her heart ache. It was amazing how so few words could convey so much emotion. She beamed at him, taking his hand and squeezing it. She could have said the same thing to him.

  Presents were followed by a mixture of Swedish and Italian Christmas treats. Gilla and Nora prepared them in the kitchen, while Michael sat at the counter, talking with them, holding his guitar and playing some chords. Mel sat at the table, clearly brooding, staring ahead.

  “Is he upset about the guitar?” Gilla whispered as Michael quietly played.

  “I think so,” Nora replied. Her voice was tense, and she looked frustrated. “Maybe emotion
al. Regardless, he’s making things uncomfortable. If he doesn’t pull himself together…”

  She trailed off, biting her lip again. Then she looked at her, shrugged, and went to the fridge.

  “Shit--we’re out of cream. I thought I got enough.”

  Gilla immediately reached for her purse. “The corner store should be open. I’ll go--”

  “No!” Mel suddenly cried, and everyone jumped.

  They turned to look at him, frowning. He looked worried. Gilla had never seen him look like that.

  “Why?” Michael asked warily. Gilla could tell he was unnerved by Mel’s reaction.

  Mel seemed to think for a moment, still staring at Gilla.

  Then he looked at Michael. “I felt them,” he said quietly.

  Michael stared. “The other Angel?”

  “I took a walk. They were nearby...across the street…”

  Now Michael looked annoyed. He shrugged. “So? You said there’s nothing we can do.”

  But Mel still looked worried. Very worried.

  He stood, rubbing at his jaw, and began to pace. His head twitched, and there was a dark look on his face.

  “Mel?” Nora said cautiously. “What is it?”

  He was quiet a moment. Then he finally turned, looking straight at Gilla.

  “Tell me about Will Bakker,” he said.

  She felt her insides sicken a little, and she gripped the counter.

  Michael jumped to his feet, his dark eyes glittering with anger.

  “Don’t you fucking dare,” he hissed.

  But Mel was firm. “I need to know--”

  “Why?”

  “I saw him,” he said, and there was fear in his voice. “Across the street.”

  For a moment Gilla’s heart stalled. Then ice flooded her veins, and her legs became weak.

  Oh god. He had found her.

  Nora was instantly at her side, wrapping her arms around her. “You’re sure?” she asked, looking at Mel, who nodded.

  Suddenly Gilla remembered--and she felt even sicker.

  “He sent me a link,” she whispered, shaking from head to toe. “Oh, fuck--I clicked on it--I wasn’t thinking--it was a trick to get my location--”