by Austin, RB
The zakaar’s gaze focused on her mouth. Emma didn’t back away. Then his lips were on hers. His arms drew her close.
A low growl sprung from Cade’s mouth.
Their embrace sparked in greater focus as Cade’s eyes glowed. Was. That. His. Tongue?
Emma pressed herself against the zakaar, ran her fingers through his hair.
Fangs punched out of his gums. Cade reached for his katana.
Crash.
A garbage can lay on its side by his feet. Cade was only inches away from her window. What was he doing? He flashed across the parking lot, his breathing erratic.
Emma was still in the zakaar’s arms, her head on his chest. She leaned out of the embrace. Spoke. The male replied, kissed her on the forehead. They disappeared from view. A few seconds later her door opened.
More words were exchanged, but Cade could hear none of it. His focus was on the zakaar. And his thoughts.
The male drove away in a blue, Ford Focus. What a shocker. With one last glance at Emma as she closed her door he took off after the zakaar’s car sticking to the shadows.
Emma locked the door thinking of Sean’s parting words. Sweet dreams.
If only.
Their kiss had been nice. Sean was comfort. That hadn’t changed. It was one of the reasons why she’d broken up with him. He deserved to be loved with the same intensity as he’d loved her. Well, love in the present tense, actually. And wasn’t that a surprise.
Sean said he still had feelings for her. And right now that felt . . . wonderful and horribly selfish. She couldn’t love him in the same way. But she was lost. Alone. With nightmares. Dreams. Those paintings.
Emma did care for Sean. Loved him, even. As a friend. As an oxygen tank. Because half of the time it felt like she was hyperventilating.
She could, possibly, learn to really love him.
Maybe.
If enough time passed.
But using Sean to help overcome this time in her life was wrong. Emma closed her eyes. His melted, milk chocolate eyes swam into view bringing with it a feel of warm air caressing her skin. She inhaled deeply.
Yes, she could try to love him more.
After cleaning up the pizza mess, she lay on the couch, flipping through the channels until she found a sitcom. Even though she was tired, Emma didn’t want to fall asleep. It would undoubtedly only lead to dreams of him.
Maybe tonight would be different. The chaos of her life was finally adrift. Jenny and Sean knew the truth. Soon she’d have a new job. She and Sean would sloth-slow start dating again. Life was evolving and she with it. For the better. Ab-so-lutely.
Emma pressed the volume up on the television and emptied her mind of everything except the four friends on TV whose biggest problem was finding the last marble rye to take to a party.
Cade left the zakaar alive. He should get an award for that.
The boy had Intimate. Knowledge. Of. Emma. And he wouldn’t stop playing their kiss over and over in his head. That last time he took it a little bit too far, using his imagination. That. Better. Be. His. Imagination.
Cade was quite proud of holding back. He hadn’t used the katana to slice open the zakaar’s stomach and remove his intestines. In comparison what happened was better. Anyone would agree. If he planned on telling anyone . . . Which he didn’t. It’d been the right thing to do for all parties involved. Absolutely.
He found himself back outside Emma’s townhouse without any conscious thought of heading in that direction. The house was dark, except for the occasional flash of light coming from behind the curtained front window. TV. Soundlessly, he unlocked the front door with skills he hadn’t used since, uh, last night and the night before last, and the night before that. Self-disgust filled him, but not enough to feel guilty about what he did to that zakaar. Nor did it stop him from walking silently to the couch. Or from kneeling down next to her. Her breaths were even and deep. Cade rubbed a hand over his chest. Heavens, she was beautiful. Sitting back on his heels, he watched her sleep.
Time passed too quickly. How he wanted to stay by her side and never leave. Reluctantly he stood. He never allowed himself to touch her. For some reason that indiscretion seemed far worse than breaking and entering and stalking. What a pathetic excuse for a Behnshma. Slowly he reached a hand out.
Emma woke with a start, gaze darting around the room. Her heart pounded. The TV was still on. The screen lit half the room. He’d been here. Standing over her. His hand stretched out. Inches from stroking her face.
A dream. Had to be.
Now he was gone.
She felt empty. How she wanted his caress. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she pulled the afghan under her chin and squeezed her eyes shut. Maybe if she fell asleep, he’d come back. He’d touch her this time. She wouldn’t wake.
A sob broke through and she covered her mouth with her hand. For the first time in a long time she wanted to pray.
Emma sat across from Jenny at the downtown café slowly stirring her peppermint mocha drink. She took another sip wishing to go back to the time when the warm, minty liquid dancing over her tongue made her smile. Now each sip was a mental grab at her dwindling change purse. Why hadn’t she paid attention to how expensive these drinks were?
After standing in line for twenty minutes and waiting in the blue chairs for another twenty, she finally had a new license. Her car was also back. Not gonna think how much that cost. After making many copies of her resume—not on pink paper—they’d driven to businesses and schools while she all but begged for employment. Now it was a waiting game. A wait to find how long it would take before she went insane from the stress in her life. If last night’s events had anything to say the moment was not far away.
The latest nighttime episode was another reason for her exhaustion. How bad was it, if she wished she could dream it again?
“I’m going crazy.”
Emma jerked her head up. “I’m not going crazy.” Please don’t let her be going crazy.
Jenny tilted her head, cocking an eyebrow. “I said I’m going crazy. Not you.”
She flushed. “Sorry. Long day.”
Sympathy spread across her friend’s face. “I’m sure by the end of the week you’ll have some offers. Remember, the next one may not be the job, but it’s a job until the job comes along.”
Emma raised an eyebrow. “I think I followed that.”
“Of course you did. Now back to me. I’m going crazy.”
Her mouth twitched. “Why?”
“Because the man behind you resembles the one from the office store.”
She shifted in her seat.
“Don’t look.” Jenny whispered.
Emma halted. “This town isn’t big, Jenny. I’m sure he’s just getting a drink.”
“He was at the art store, too. The one where you were talking to the manager.”
“What does he look like?”
“Short and weird. Creepy grin on his face.”
“Short, weird, and grinning. I don’t think we can go to the police with those criminal characteristics.”
“Stop it. I’m serious. He’s wigging me out. He keeps staring at us.”
“Maybe he likes you.”
“Ew.” Jenny’s lip curled, then narrowed her eyes. “No, he’s focused on you.”
Emma did turn then, ignoring her friend’s furious whispers. Her gaze swam through the other patrons, searching for a short, weird, grinning man. It was probably nothing. Jenny was on her second Double shot Energy+Coffee drink.
She’d scanned half of the room before she spotted him. Chills ran down her spine. Creepy didn’t begin to describe him. Emma wanted to run from the room and hide until he was gone. She forced her gaze to move from his and continue through the room. By the time she faced Je
nny the back of her neck itched.
“You saw him? Two other times today?”
Jenny nodded, her eyes wide.
“He is a little creepy.”
“Maybe we should go.”
Emma rubbed the back of her neck. “Yeah. Let’s go eat. We’ll drive the long way and see if he follows us.”
She followed Jenny out. Maybe they were both overreacting? No, he was still there, staring at her in all his Freddy Krueger-ness.
In the car, Jenny didn’t even wait for Emma to finish buckling before she squealed out of the parking space, racing in the opposite direction of the restaurant. Her gaze flashed to the rearview mirror every two seconds. “What a day for Sean to flunk on us,” she mumbled.
Emma agreed. A twinge of unease ran through her. Did his reasons have anything to do with last night? And, for the tenth time, why hadn’t he called her? Was he avoiding her? Sean seemed fine last night when he left. Not upset when she asked for time to think about dating again. What changed? Was he really sick? Had he decided she wasn’t worth the hassle? It was unrealistic to expect him to wait for her when she didn’t even know if that kind of love was possible for her anymore.
“I don’t think we have a follower,” Jenny said five minutes later.
Emma glanced out the back window. “That’s a safe bet since you’ve been driving ten miles over the speed limit and blew the last red light.” They were miles from the downtown area now, driving through a subdivision. The only cars were parked in the road or driveways. The neighborhood was quiet and dark. The lights from inside the houses were softly illuminated behind the drawn curtains. “I think it’s safe to head to the restaurant. The guy probably wasn’t even following us. It’s a small downtown area, not uncommon for people to go to a few stores then end at the coffee shop.” Maybe. Hopefully.
“He freaked me out.” Jenny shivered. She used the nearest driveway to turn around.
Emma silently agreed.
Cade’s katana was strapped to his back, his Beretta tucked into a shoulder holster, the throwing stars in a pouch at his belt, and the daggers attached to his thigh and ankle. His fingers twitched at his sides. He had yet to remove a single weapon tonight. Cade wouldn’t go home until he found at least one Fallen to beat to shit before killing.
Dammit.
He was on edge ever since—no, not going there.
This morning, after ass-kicking a Fallen to the underworld, he’d spend several hours in the gym hitting the third newly installed heavy bag. Damn things were so cheaply made now a days. Maybe Sarid would want to throw down again. The night the second bag was knocked down Cade had still been full of energy, and memories. He’d talked Sarid into sparring. A who could beat the shit out of who first. Martha had ended the fight, calling it a draw. One of Cade’s eyes had swollen shut and his shoulder had to be popped back in place. Great.
Right after the shower, Cade passed out. No what-ifs keeping him awake. No images of tear-stained faces. No memories of pleading. No flash backs to an accusing glare. Nope. All gone until he opened his yellowing bruised eye in the morning.
Cade rounded the corner keeping to the shadows, his destination two blocks north. He listened to the snores of Followers safe in their beds and the occasional TV still on. These late night walk-bys, and the not just walking-bys, were bad enough, but what he did last night to that zakaar was unforgivable. Not as unforgivable, or as permanent, as killing him would have been, but he should’ve showed restraint.
Nearing his spot, he slowed. Her house was dark. Walking to the porch he stood near the large sliding glass door wall, paused and then frowned. Cade jogged to the back of her complex and silently jumped onto the neighbor’s overhang then to the tree fifteen feet away before climbing and lifting himself to a thick branch outside her bedroom window. Empty.
Closing his eyes, he inhaled, sifting through the scents. Other Followers. A dog across the street. Rotting garbage in the dumpster. The cat inside her neighbor’s house. She wasn’t home.
His frown deepened. It was eleven o’clock. Where could she be?
A growl sprang from his throat. No way. Cade jumped from the branch, falling twenty feet down to the ground. It’d worked in his favor to follow the boy home last night. The zakaar was lucky he hadn’t ripped him into pieces. The male wouldn’t be lucky two nights in a row. Screw restraint. Cade would find restraint tomorrow.
Rounding the corner of the townhouse complex, he stilled. A car pulled in front of her sidewalk. Backing into the shadows, he inhaled. A smile formed.
Emma stepped onto her sidewalk. “Thanks, Jenny. This was fun. I especially liked the bar part after Wong’s.” She giggled then stumbled, catching herself on the door.
“Careful.” Amusement rang in Jenny’s voice.
“I’m fine.”
Jenny laughed. “You’re drunk and won’t feel this happy in the morning.”
Emma snorted. Of course she wouldn’t be happy in the morning. “No. I’m buzzed, not drunk. Haven’t been drunk in a while.” She flinched, arms circling her middle.
“Are you okay? You’re not going to puke are you?”
“No.” There was no easy escape from this pain. She wasn’t so buzzed anymore either. Dammit. “Thanks for today.”
“No problem.” Jenny paused. Concern wrinkled her forehead. “Are you sure you’re okay? Want me to come in and stay for a while?”
Emma forced herself to smile. “I’m fine. Don’t worry. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
Letting herself inside the house, she leaned against the door. One minute she was laughing and talking and the next she wanted to curl on the floor and sob. It wasn’t entirely the alcohol’s fault either.
Emma leaned over and grabbed the phone from its charger. 12:30. Too late to call Sean? Probably. She scrolled through her contacts and hit the send button.
After two rings, his voice came on the line.
“Did I wake you?”
“It’s all right. Is anything wrong?”
A laugh escaped before she could stifle it. The appropriate question would be, is anything actually right? She cleared her throat. “No. I wanted,” she began, stopped, started again. “How are you? Jenny said you were sick.” Her voice rose on the end, making the latter a question rather than a statement.
“Yeah. I’d a bad migraine this morning. Dizzy, nauseous, the whole thing. I’m better, though. I slept all afternoon.”
Emma sagged in relief. “I’m glad.”
“Sorry I couldn’t help today.”
“No problem.” She drew her eyebrows together. This wasn’t the same Sean from last night. He must’ve changed his mind. Figured she was too much to handle. “Hey, Sean?”
“Yeah?”
“I wondered,” she paused. “If you’d help me tomorrow.” Emma thumped her head against the door. Coward.
“Of course.”
The conversation grew steadily worse and Emma disconnected with a promise from Sean to call her in the morning. She staggered to the couch. Curling on her side, she reached for the afghan.
It was for the best. Emma wasn’t good for him. Actually, she shouldn’t be with anyone. Ever.
No crying! Tears didn’t fix problems. Solutions did.
The problem was she didn’t know what solution she needed.
Chapter 18
Hood low over his face, Vetis jammed his hands into his pockets. Sonneillon, the stupid fuck. He exhaled roughly. Kicking him out of the tunnel like he owned it. It was a tunnel for fucksake. Vetis sidestepped the couple in front of him who’d stopped in the middle of the sidewalk to argue.
He was the Demon of Corruption. His proof of greatness had been marked down in Followers’ textbooks. What was Sonneillon’s mark to fame? The freak could walk during the day. Fly through the sky. Big de
al. The angel was not who he portrayed. The Behnshmas were the reason Apollyon was unable to take his place at the top. And it was a safe bet that Apollyon had no idea that his precious second-in-command was protecting members of the Trihune.
Vetis didn’t need to be able to blow apart Followers with a thought. He corrupted them into doing his bidding. With one exhale a human could be altered to accept any task demanded of him. He’d corrupted whole cities before. Vetis would do it again. Turn hundreds of Followers into the perfect recruits. With Apollyon, they would create a new race. One who’d follow them, worship only them. An army of Fallen to destroy the Trihune and take over the humans. They wouldn’t stay hidden any longer. It would be a new world he’d run right beside Apollyon. It was time to show everyone, the Creator included, who was really in charge of this world.
The number of Followers around him had greatly diminished. His senses told him no one was near except small vermin. No matter where he went he couldn’t escape the fuckin’ rats. Vetis opened the recently oiled door of the abandon warehouse.
Kobal was the reason he was in this mess and it took every ounce of willpower not to kill him. The fuckwit was his ticket back into the tunnel and he sure as shit wasn’t going to search for the stupid Behnshmas every night. Vetis would keep his cool and wait until the job was done then kill him. As soon as he was back in the tunnels he’d search Sonneillon’s study. It’d take a lot of proof in order for Apollyon to admit he’d trusted the wrong one.
The door to the warehouse opened. Kobal skipped through like a child hurrying to pet a pony. Vetis exhaled. A stream of frosty breath blew from his mouth. It sailed through the dirty, dank air he was forced to breathe all because of the demon prancing toward him.
Kobal stopped in mid-stride. He rubbed his hands up and down his arms. “Damn V. I told you to knock it off. You know I wasn’t able to grab a sweatshirt before I left.”
