“What’s so funny?” he asked.
“You don’t realize how special you are,” she said. “The fact that you remember me, to start. You shouldn’t. I’ve tried to wipe your memory twice now.”
“Oh really,” he said, not fully understanding if she was serious or joking. “How did that work out for you?”
She pressed her lips together. “I don’t think you’re an earthlie, but you’re not supernatural either. You don’t have powers, but you have the ability to block them.”
He looked at her. “Okay, now you’re just making up words.”
“Am I?” she asked. “Or is there a part of you that knows that there’s a world hidden a layer above the one that you’re familiar with?”
He looked at her incredulously. “You’re serious.”
She nodded. “Dead serious. It’s called the Archworld, and it exists on the surface of what earthlies can see. You only have to look harder to see it. Take, for example, Trinitas. You somehow saw it and were able to get inside, despite not having the blood credentials to do so.”
Pilot considered this, thinking back to how the door was impossible to open for him, and easy to open for the others. He thought of the blood that his mother had given in his dreams to gain entrance.
Kennedy couldn’t have known these pieces would add up.
Was she telling the truth, then?
Or was he really gone… to the point of hallucinating an entire person that no one else seemed to be able to remember?
“If this is all true,” he asked, “why are you telling me? You wanted nothing to do with me at Trinitas.”
“Because you intrigue me, Pilot van Rossum. You aren’t supposed to. I shouldn’t be distracted by you, attracted to you…”
“Attracted to me,” he repeated. “You didn’t seem interested in that kiss a few nights ago.”
“I didn’t want to be interested,” Kennedy said.
“So you’re interested in me, and that’s why you’re telling me all of this?” he asked. “This isn’t anywhere near good enough for me. I need answers, to all of my questions, or this is all over before it even begins.”
“I know,” she said. “I need something from you first.”
“I’m not up for doing favors,” Pilot said.
“It’s not a hard one. I need a taste of your blood, to tell what you are.”
He made a face. “If this is some sort of joke, it’s a sick one.”
She shook her head. “It’s not a joke.”
“You’re insane,” he said.
She moved toward him slowly, touching his arm with the tips of her fingers. Electricity shot through his veins; however disturbed he was by her actions, he couldn’t deny his attraction to her. He didn’t know if he had ever felt so strongly attracted to anyone in his life.
But he didn’t need any more bad decisions, and Kennedy was a really, really bad decision. He knew that.
And he couldn’t stop.
His lips met hers and he kissed her so softly that if it were anybody else, he probably wouldn’t have even felt her lips against his. She didn’t push him away this time.
“Tell me one thing,” he whispered across her skin. “You were the little girl in the story, weren’t you? With the twin sister, the silver bow in your hair?”
Kennedy face twitched with a split-second of exquisite, tender pain before she recovered. “It doesn’t matter.”
Everything around them dimmed—the sound of the ocean, the saltiness of the air, the rain dropping on them, the ragged edges of the rock they were sitting on. A chill ran down his back, all the way through to his bones.
His lips parted her mouth and they were kissing again, harder and more desperately, like they couldn’t physically be close enough together. His fingers wove their way through her hair and he yanked the strands down, leaving her neckline exposed. She gasped as he kissed her, every inch of her face, her ears, the angled edges of her jaw, her collarbone, her shoulders, her chin. He couldn’t get enough of her. Her fingers dug into his back, ripping through his shirt, breaking his skin.
Her hands found his chest and suddenly, she was shoving him backward.
The rain trickled down from his hair to his jawline; it had slowed so suddenly, he had barely noticed. “Do you not want this?”
She looked down at her hands; one had trickles of his blood dripping from the tips of her fingers, from when she dug them into his back. “I do. But I need to know more about you first.”
Kennedy turned away from him and took off running through the sand. He ran after her, as fast as he could, but she was much faster than him. In fact, she was one of the fastest runners he’d ever seen.
“Kennedy, wait!” He wasn’t going to give up. He would chase her until he couldn’t see her anymore.
They reached cover near the parking lot of the beach, where Kennedy ducked around a corner, out of his sight. He turned the corner and ran into the women’s restroom, but by the time he got there, Kennedy was gone.
Epilogue - Kennedy
Kennedy breathed in and out slowly, as she watched a confused Pilot make his way back to his car in the rain. She licked his blood from her fingers, surprised at what she tasted. Learning about a person from their blood was Kennedy’s specialty, her gift, but she couldn’t tell much from the small bit of blood she had drawn when she had broken Pilot’s skin.
She patted her silver-white strands of hair that matched her eyes, and shook her shoulders back and forth, trying to shake him off. Her lips still burned where he had touched them, and she cursed herself for her own stupidity in letting him kiss her again.
She had only met him the first time out of curiosity, when she had been so sure that she could toy with him without getting attached. But she had been wrong. There was something powerful about him that drew her in, even when she knew that he could never love what she really was. Still, she could feel the magic coursing through his veins, could taste it in his blood, and she knew he could not be a common earthlie. She would need more of his blood to be sure, but could it be possible? Could that be why she was so attracted to him, because he was supernatural, like her?
He would have changed by now, she reminded herself. All archangel and archdemon offspring changed around the age of puberty, and Pilot was several years beyond that already.
Besides, she couldn’t fall in love with him, not when she still had a mission to complete. Not when she still had a murder to complete. He would never understand that she had to take away someone he loved, or die instead. And once Pilot found out why she was really in Honolulu, he would never forgive her.
She felt her sister’s presence and begrudgingly touched her ear, letting her sister’s voice shriek through.
“Are you still in Honolulu?” she asked in the saccharine, shrill tone she had adopted in recent years.
“Hello, Bristol,” Kennedy replied.
“There was a man coming from Honolulu with a very important object in his possession that he planned to present to me in exchange for his life.”
“And?”
“His soulless body was recently found in Los Angeles, and whatever object he had with him was taken.”
“If you’re asking whether I have it, the answer is no,” Kennedy said, still not understanding what Bristol wanted from her. Her sister had a habit of speaking in codes and half-truths.
Bristol cackled. “I do not think you are stupid enough to steal from me. I want you to find the thief and recover the object.”
“And take his soul,” Kennedy added, hating her sister more with every word.
“Do you not enjoy our arrangement anymore?” Bristol asked, in a tone that told Kennedy she was about to blow up with fury. “The only reason I pardoned you all those years ago is because you agreed to be my head assassin until your debt was paid.”
“I didn’t realize your appetite for blood at the time,” Kennedy mumbled.
“Do your job,” Bristol commanded. “Or I’ll send an assassin after
you. You know I will, blood of mine or not.”
Kennedy rolled her eyes and let go of her ear, severing the connection. Her sister ran the gamut between deranged and hysterical most of the time, and she was clearly in one of her fits.
She looked over at the parking lot again, but Pilot had left. “Goodbye,” she whispered to him. Bristol’s request would give Kennedy an excuse to put off the murder she had been assigned for just a little longer. Perhaps even long enough to learn the truth about Pilot…
Acknowledgements
This series has been in the making since 2009 and wouldn’t be possible without many, many people to support it along the way.
Thank you to everyone who pre-ordered this book (some for the third time!) and those who have read some version of it and patiently waited for the story to be ready to come out.
A special thanks to my husband, as I wouldn’t be writing without his support.
And thank you to the readers who are as interested in these characters and this world as I am.
About the Author
Monica Leonelle was born in Germany and spent her childhood jet-setting around the world with her American parents. Her travels include most of the United States and Europe, as well as Guam, Japan, South Korea, Australia, and the Philippines.
She started publishing independently in 2009 and has since published over half a million words of fiction spread across five series, Socialpunk, Waters Dark and Deep, Emma + Elsie, and two under a pen name. In 2014, she published 8 books and one short story.
Monica lives with her husband and highly photogenic westie dog in St. Louis, Missouri, in a very, very old 3-story house that possibly has ghosts and definitely has a secret passage.
Copyright
This material is provided “as-is” without any warranty of any kind. Every effort has been made to ensure the accuracy of this book; however, errors and omissions may occur. The publisher assumes no responsibility for any damages arising from the use of this book.
Copyright 2017 by Monica Leonelle
All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced or transmitted—electronically, mechanically, graphically, or by any other means, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information storage or retrieval system—without written permission from the publisher.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available.
Spaulding House Publishing
600 S. Dearborn
Chicago, IL 60605
Third Edition
First Printing
Author: Monica Leonelle
Cover Design: Monica Leonelle
Instruments of the Angels (Hallows & Nephilim: Waters Dark and Deep #1) Page 32
