His grip tightened by a fraction, almost unnoticeable, but she felt it. “Please, go on. It’s okay. You’re safe here with me,” Arlen whispered. His voice was thick with unexpressed emotions.
“Sometimes, I’m not sure they knew what they were doing. They liked to watch when it hurt and the shadows…I think they were feeding off of it, off of me.”
Everything was rushing through her head, not making sense. She’d thought Maya was joking or seeing things when she’d started ranting about shadows stalking her. Angie had never seen any such thing. Whatever they’d done to her had changed that. The shadows were real. She could see them and they most definitely saw her.
“Brad was a horrible person and there were a few others who were a lot like him. They liked to experiment. One day, they tied me up. I hadn’t eaten in a couple of days so I didn’t put up much of a fight. Brad had this expression on his face and I could tell that he was excited for whatever they were about to do. I was sure that this was it, they were going to finally kill me.”
Tears slipped freely down Angie’s cheeks and she sniffled, holding back a breakdown. She couldn’t do that when she was so close to finally letting someone in. Someone needed to know what had transpired because if she kept it all inside, she’d eventually be consumed by it.
She couldn’t meet Arlen’s eyes. “What they did was worse. They began some sort of ritual and cut this poor chicken’s head off right in front of me. They let its blood drain into this brass basin they had then they turned their sights on me. Brad had the knife and cut me just below my ribs. It bled a lot and shit. It felt like a hot poker and I was sure that was it. Turns out the cut wasn’t too deep, no threat to any major organs anyways.”
Arlen stood suddenly. His hands were shaking and the muscles along his jaw were straining with the force of his clenched teeth. His was angry, though Angie knew it wasn’t with her. Still, his reaction was strange coming from someone who she hadn’t known for more than a month. He hooked his hands and his hips and glared out the window, not meeting her eyes either.
“Do you want a drink or something?”
She nodded. “Yes, please.”
A drink was exactly what she needed. Hopefully it would take some of the edge off the storm swirling within her. Her chest felt like it housed a tornado of razors, slashing and cutting deep.
Arlen was quick about it, coming back with a vodka and orange juice and a Jack and Coke. He handed her the orange concoction and returned to his seat. The ice clinked in our glasses as they sipped away in silence.
“Can I see it?” he asked, gesturing to her chest.
She lifted her shirt enough to show the inch long cut without exposing her breasts. The incision had since been crudely stitched closed, though she had no recollection of it happening or who had done it.
She stared at his face while he examined her chest. He had moved closer to her and his face was hovering less than a foot away from her wound. His fingers brushed over the puckered edges of it, but she could hardly feel it at all. His eyebrows had knit together, creating a deep crease in between and his mouth was turned down in a small frown.
“Brad did this?”
She nodded.
“There’s more to it, isn’t there? This is more than a shallow knick?”
Angie took a large sip from her drink, focusing on the burn that travelled down her throat. The heat spread through her chest, though she wasn’t necessarily numb yet. She’d have to march on because Arlen had done so much for her that he deserved the truth.
“Yeah, there’s more. They let the shadows inside me. Brad’s flunkies held my chest down while he drew something on my chest with a mixture of the chicken blood and my own. Two of the shadows went in through the cut and I don’t remember anything after that. At least, not for a few days.”
“Oh…fuck,” he said in a huff.
He drained his glass and set it down a bit too hard on the bedside table. Arlen ran a hand through his hair, tossing his long dark locks back over his shoulders.
“They didn’t mean for me to live. Brad kept telling me they were waiting for the ultimate sacrifice, that my death would be sweet. He kept telling me all the different ways they’d do it. It was their twisted sort of entertainment. I remember seeing them laughing as I lay twisted on the floor, coming out of the first one. It was the funniest thing they’d ever seen. You sort of foiled their plans by getting me out of the cathedral that night.”
Arlen nodded his understanding, but remained quiet.
She wiped away the tear trails from her cheeks. Angie no longer felt like she was crippled by the weight of what had happened. And Arlen wasn’t running.
“I guess I should probably say thank you, right? I mean, you saved my life.”
Feeling suddenly emboldened by the knowledge that he’d seen her broken bits and hadn’t run screaming in the opposite direction, she leaned forward and pressed a quick, tender kiss to the corner of his lips. He froze, shocked by the contact, but responded immediately.
His lips were soft and firm all at once. He was stirring the heat within her and creating an inferno of need. Her belly did fluttery flip flops as he cupped her face. Oh, this man did things to her, and she hadn’t forgotten his skills in the bedroom department. That man could play her body like a fine tuned instrument and make the whole thing look like a breeze.
Arlen grabbed her by the waist and settled her on his lap, straddling him. His hands traced up the outside of her bare thighs, leaving a trail of gooseflesh in his wake.
“The gods gave me a woman who is so much more than I deserve, but damn I am grateful. What did I do to earn you?” he muttered to himself.
His eyes were filled with adoration and awe of her. When he touched her, he did do in a way that worshipped her body and her soul all at once. He was her sort of perfect.
Arlen leaned forward and licked and nibbled along the base of her throat and collarbone. She was soaked and growing needier by the second.
His tongue would be incredible at the apex of her thighs. She could feel his eagerness straining against his pants, pressing perfectly against her center. Just as his hand slipped under the hem of her t-shirt, he froze.
A loud knock had the two scrambling apart. Angie adjusted her clothing quickly. With the way Arlen was tensed and ready for action, she guessed he wasn’t expecting any sort of company.
He snatched up her wrist and tugged her along behind him. He moved silently through his apartment, however, Angie wasn’t half as nimble and surefooted as her counterpart. He flung open the closet and shoved aside several jackets. He pushed on the back wall slightly and it gave a little before popping back towards them to reveal a hidey hole. The doorway was virtually invisible.
The room was stocked for survival. There was enough food, water, and weapons to fare pretty well in the event of a zombie apocalypse…if such a thing were to ever happen. He grabbed a baton-looking device from its place on the back wall.
“What are you going to do? Beat them over the head? Shouldn’t you have a gun or something?” Angie asked, panic creeping into her voice.
He gave her a look that said really? Don’t be ridiculous. “Sometimes, your guns aren’t all they’re cracked up to be,” he said, the rod in his hand illuminated the small, dark space.
The knock sounded again, louder, though that time, it was more demanding. It seemed like whoever was on the other side was about to break through the door. She could hear the rattling of the door knob as the interloper tried to force it open.
“Stay here and don’t come out no matter what,” Arlen whispered.
There was a determination to his demeanor and something that reminded her of fear.
She wondered if it was the shadows finally coming to finish the job, but then she realized it was highly unlikely.
Shadows didn’t knock.
Chapter 14
Arlen
Arlen’s time wasn’t up yet. Brokk was the honorable sort and he’d stay true to his word by g
iving Arlen the two days he’d agreed to. Lorik, however, had no honor. Arlen wouldn’t be surprised if the maggot had sent enforcers to collect him. If they found Angela, they’d kill her. Human’s weren’t supposed to know about the Fae or the rest of the paranormal community. Each race had their own governing bodies, but no supreme overseers. So, it was explicitly understood amongst all races that those who challenged the rules would be exterminated.
Some made exceptions for extenuating circumstances typically with the understanding that the human in question was never to rejoin human society. The Fae who sat on the throne wouldn’t be as kind. Lorik would make an example of her just to hurt Arlen.
Steady on the balls of his feet, he clutched the kyrie in his hand. The weapon had gotten him out of more tough situations than he could count. His free hand closed around the door knob and turned it, pushing the door open wide.
Just as the door opened, a startled, feminine gasp sounded. “Oh!”
He recognized the voice and the tattooed hand outstretched as if it were about to knock again.
“Caressia?” He poked his head out into the hall to see if she was alone.
He was bewildered by her sudden appearance back in his life.
“Hi.” Caressia’s eyes softened as she soaked up his presence.
“What are you doing here? How did you find me?” His voice sounded cold, even by his standards, but he brushed it off. She knew exactly how he was and wouldn’t think much about it. Arlen wasn’t the type to play games or beat around the bush.
“Nice to see you too, lover,” she purred as she stepped into his home. “I thought I’d stop by to give you a head’s up that Lorik has put a pretty lofty sum on your head. He’s promising titles to anyone who can bring you in alive.”
Figures. That’s exactly the sort of thing a snake like him would do, Arlen thought. If Lorik was putting a bounty on his head, then Brokk hadn’t reported him yet. It seemed his friend wasn’t as blind to the sort of man Lorik was as he’d thought before. However, none of it explained Caressia’s appearance.
“That doesn’t answer my question. How did you find me?”
Anger flared in his chest. Too many slip ups. He clenched his teeth and balled his fists at his own failure. A part of him wondered if the woman was there to bring him in herself. If it was him, he knew he wouldn’t hesitate.
“Let’s just say I have friends in high places. When I need to know the whereabouts of a person, I get it,” she explained with a raised eyebrow.
Arlen crossed his arms over his chest and leaned casually against the wall. He wasn’t letting his guard down, not when Angie’s life depended on him, but it would put his unexpected guest at ease. If she relaxed, she could be more forthcoming with vital information.
She’d meant something to him once, long before Angie had ever come into the picture. Those sentiments were long behind him though. All but forgotten, just like the rest of his life.
“Well, thanks for the warning. Was that it?”
Caressia stepped into him and pushed her chest out slightly. Arlen’s gaze dipped to the proffered goods. Her breasts were pert and on the verge of spilling out of the leather halter she was wearing.
“I thought maybe we could catch up. Haven’t you missed me?”
“No,” he replied and stepped out of her reach. “Now, back to the business at hand. How many has Lorik commissioned?”
Caressia’s playful demeanor turned serious. “He’s not taking chances this time, Arlen. He means to have you dead. He said the King’s death was at your hand and you must be brought to justice for it. The people demand it.”
“The King’s death was his own fault.” He didn’t say more about it. He had killed the King, but there was so much more to it than that.
Caressia stepped into his space again with a seductive pout poised on her lips. This was her signature move, the one she always used to get her way with men. What she didn’t know was that, with the arrival of his true mate, he was no longer capable of succumbing to her enchantments like he once was.
There was a time, he would have done just about anything for her. She had been, after all, his betrothed before the King’s mind had gone rabid and turned him into something unrecognizable.
The Fae’s hands snaked up his chest. Arlen could tell she thought her charms were working.
“Tell me the rumors aren’t true, lover. I’ll believe you. We can set the record straight and go back to the way things used to be.”
The floorboards creaked on the other side of the room. Arlen’s vigilant gaze swung around and met those of a very angry Angela. He froze, shocked by her sudden appearance and then it grew into a slow burning fury. Angie hadn’t listened to him and stayed put. She’d come out of hiding in front of one of the worst possible people. Caressia would report Angela to Lorik before she even left the building. There was no telling how long it’d be before the guards were tearing his door down and dragging her away. Arlen couldn’t say anything to her in that moment and give his guest any more ammunition than she had. He had to make a choice and he had to do it fast. He took in Angela’s pointed glare and her pursed lips. In that moment, it dawned on him how the situation must look to her. A strange woman was pressed against him after Angie and he had spent the night together. He’d shoved her in a closet and now there was Caressia. Seeing his mate’s reaction steeled his resolve. Arlen wasn’t running anymore and neither would she. Arlen would trade his life for hers and pray it saw her to safety.
Instead of removing herself from him, Caressia simply faced Angela. She kept her back pressed flush against Arlen’s back as she sized up Angie as a threat. Arlen cleared his throat and sidestepped his handsy, former lover. In a few, sure steps, he was beside Angela and he knew he must rectify the situation before things got out of hand.
Caressia had been a lover even back when he was considerably younger and much less concerned with the consequences of his actions. What he had since learned was that Caressia had her sights set on the throne. Like a good warrior, she let nothing come between her and her end goal. Though, that didn’t explain why she was there and not barking up Lorik’s black, twisted tree.
“Caressia, I’d like you to meet my Angela. Angela this is Caressia. She’s an old friend.” He placed a hand on Angie’s lower back and towed her closer to him.
He hoped by staking an obvious claim that Caressia would take the hint and give up her pursuit.
“A human? Really, Ar? You can’t be serious.”
“Emphasis on the old,” Angie huffed under her breath while she peeked up at Arlen.
The anger he’d felt was slowly receding. His mate was stronger than he’d given her credit for. He was trying really hard to not laugh at her jibe. However, Caressia did not seem amused in the least. In fact, her scowl was almost deadly.
“Do you think its appropriate to flaunt your playthings in front of the woman you’re marrying?” Caressia said with an air of vengeful satisfaction.
Angie stiffened beside him and made to step away from him, but his hand kept her in her rightful place at his side.
“That was a lifetime ago and not my choice, or have you forgotten that? That arrangement was dead in the water even before the king passed on and you know it.”
Arlen noticed Angie glancing back and forth between him and his former lover, appearing uncomfortable and unsure by the awkward triangle she had unwittingly found herself in. Until that moment, he’d never been ashamed of his past. Since meeting Angela, he was beginning to understand just how much she changed his perspective.
“It was never officially dissolved. So, technically, you’re still bound to me,” Caressia sneered. She turned her sights on his chosen and gave her a venomous grin.
“She is my true mate. My chosen and she is bound to me. As far as you and I are concerned, there never was an us and there never will be.” There was an edge to his voice that made it clear he was not to be trifled with. He wasn’t giving her up for any archaic rules and he’d k
ill any who came for her life.
He was not going to tolerate anyone trying to intimidate Angela, nor make her feel as though she didn’t belong with him. Not when she was perfectly created to be his other half.
“Did you have anything else you needed to tell me?” he asked curtly.
“What are you going to do? They’re hunting you. The human will slow you down.” Caressia spat the word human as if it were the most disgusting thing she’d tasted.
“I have never run from a battle and I don’t intend to start now. I’m not going anywhere. You, however, can see yourself out.”
Caressia stood there as if she couldn’t comprehend the words that had been uttered. Her eyes shot back and forth between Arlen and Angie before settling on the latter with a look of pure hatred.
She turned with more grace than should be possible in such an outfit and sauntered to the door. She opened it and stepped through, pausing to say one last thing.
“You’ll regret all of this one day.” She stepped through and closed the door behind her.
He was sure she was right. Arlen decided that he wouldn’t change what he had planned. He’d just add it to the long list of things he’d already fucked up in his life.
Chapter 15
Angela
Angie couldn’t believe what was happening. Who was this twat muffin?
She guessed that was what she got for being too afraid to demand answers. It still sucked to see though. The bitch had said that Arlen was being hunted? What could he have possibly done to make a king track him down?
Angie suddenly wasn’t sure who Arlen was anymore. Whatever he was accused of must have been pretty bad to warrant a manhunt. Had that been why he was so on edge?
She was reminded once again just how much they didn’t belong together. He was Fae and she was just a human. Granted, she was a human who could see the future and the past, but still, nothing extraordinary.
“What did she mean?”
Arlen turned slightly and finally met her stare head on. His violet eyes were practically glowing. She couldn’t get any kind of read on how he was feeling or where his mind was.
Broken (The Voodoo Revival Series Book 3) Page 9
