Beauty Awakened aotd-2
Page 18
How like the man, to deliver fear before the battle. And there was no question there would be a battle. Nox was here for revenge. After all, Koldo had destroyed the male’s entire camp. His harem of lovers, both slave and free. The best of his warriors. The bulk of his allies. Now, he hoped to hit Koldo where it would hurt most. Destroying the first female Koldo had ever taken under his care.
Well, I won’t let him. Koldo would have to find a way to strike first. To end this. Now. Forever.
He tugged Nicola to her feet. “Get your sister. I want you installed in my home within the hour.”
* * *
KOLDO FLASHED NICOLA and Laila to the living room of his ranch. “Look around,” he said, doing his best to mask his growing tension. Probably failing. “Change whatever you want. Eat whatever you want. I’ll be back.”
He hated to leave them so abruptly, without any more of a welcome, but his next task couldn’t wait.
As Nicola sputtered out a protest, he flashed to the cavern where his mother was stashed. This time, he didn’t hang around outside but stalked inside. With a single glance, he had the details memorized. Cornelia was dirtier than before, her robe stained with mud and blood, the hem frayed. Her short hair was matted at the sides. She sat in the corner of the cage, and there was a rat perched on her hand—a rat she was feeding a piece of grain.
She spotted Koldo and cursed. “Can’t you just leave me alone?”
“Your precious lover is stalking my woman.”
“I have no lover,” she spat.
“Oh, but you do. My father, the man you’ve pined for all these years, thinks to strike at me.”
Cornelia stiffened as she absorbed his words. The moment she accepted them as truth, she actually tossed the rat at him, the creature screaming along the way. Koldo caught him, set him down and watched as he scampered away.
Your first mistake was assuming she had a heart, little guy.
“Cruel even to your pets,” Koldo said.
She trembled, visibly fighting to keep her temper under control. If he wasn’t mistaken—and he had to be mistaken—there was a gleam of regret in her eyes.
“I thought he was dead,” she whispered.
“As did I. We were both wrong.”
Watching him intently, Cornelia stood on unsteady legs. “If he’s after you, you’re doomed. He’s crafty, and there’s nothing you can do to stop him.”
“I can kill him.”
“And that worked so well for you before?” she mocked with a hard laugh. “Especially now that you have a woman, did you say? I’m surprised one can actually stand to look at you.”
His woman. That’s what he’d called Nicola, wasn’t it? He would have to better guard his words, for the human was not his, not in that way, and now, she would never be. She had chosen another male. And Koldo couldn’t really fault her—even though he was still so angry he could tear this cavern apart rock by rock. She would be better off with one of her own kind.
“You should probably say goodbye to her.” Cornelia traced her fingertip along the bars beside her and grinned happily. “He’ll do the most horrendous things to her, and he’ll force you to watch. But you share his blood—maybe you’ll like that, huh?”
Koldo punched the cage so forcefully the reinforced steel bent backward.
Cornelia paled, backed away.
He had been forced to watch such behavior while chained inside Nox’s tent, and he had vomited every time. Had even tried to behead the man the first hundred times he was allowed to walk freely through the camp—and he had always been disciplined for his efforts. He would never—never!—enjoy watching such treatment.
“I protect what’s mine,” he gritted out. “But you protect no one. Did you witness such events when you were with him, huh, Mother? Did the two of you discuss it while you were snuggled in his arms?”
“Shut up!” She changed course, stomping forward. When she reached him, she gripped the very bars he’d harmed and attempted to shake them.
“I bet you did. I bet you were eaten up with jealousy when he turned his attentions to another.”
“You know nothing about me!”
“I know you’re exactly like him, a pretty face hiding rotten bones. And just so you know, I will kill him before he hurts the girl.” He should shut up. He should leave. His temper was overtaking him. If he wasn’t careful, he would erupt. But his feet felt anchored in place. “You’ll help me. Not because you love me, but because you want him to suffer for abandoning you. Isn’t that right?”
She popped her jaw, some of the anger leaving her. “I do want him to suffer.”
“Then tell me. What are his weaknesses?”
“You spent the most time with him. You should know.”
He should, shouldn’t he? But then, to him, Nox had been the pinnacle of strength, an unstoppable force. Koldo had been surprised to deliver the deathblow, especially from a distance.
Should have chosen up close and personal, as I craved.
Then, he should have taken the time to identify all of the remains. But he’d assumed Nox had been burned to ash—had wanted to believe it so badly.
Mistakes, he realized now. He wouldn’t make another.
“Will you help me or not?” he demanded.
Cornelia lifted her chin, haughty despite her circumstances. “I will not.”
“Not even for a human?”
“Oh, I’ll help a human. Any but yours,” she added.
Koldo tried to calm his raging nerves. A thousand times these past few weeks, he could have killed this woman. But he’d never even bruised her.
As a child, he’d only ever wanted her love. Offered freely. And when it was clear he wouldn’t be getting that, offered through bribes. Yet time and time again she had rejected and denied him.
In that moment, peering into her defiant, hate-filled face, his restraint vanished. His control finally snapped. He’d had enough.
For once, she would know the pain he’d experienced at her hands. For once, she would understand the depths of betrayal. For once, she would fear the things Koldo could do to her.
“Let’s see if I can change your mind, shall we?” He withdrew a razor from the air pocket at his side and flashed into the center of the cage—the only way in or out. “I look like my father, even though I despise him. I think it’s only fair that you look like him, too, since you’re clearly still in love with him.”
Her eyes widened, and she backed away from him, as far as she could possibly get. “You wouldn’t dare,” she cried. “My hair has only just begun to grow back.”
Her words merely proved how little she knew about him. “Just like you wouldn’t dare to take my wings?”
She leaned toward the left, then darted to the right, trying to avoid him as he closed in. “You disobeyed me. You had to be disciplined.”
“Not that way.” Koldo flashed to just in front of her and latched on to her upper arms. It was their first contact since he’d carried her out of the depths of hell and brought her here. She was thinner, practically skin and bones, reminding him of Laila. Laila, the very image of Nicola. But that didn’t soften him, either, and wouldn’t stop him. In fact, it made him far angrier.
“Your only goal was to make me suffer,” he said, shaking her. “Why?”
He shouldn’t have asked. He regretted the question immediately, and knew it revealed the hurt he’d never been able to shed.
“I couldn’t allow you to turn out like him,” she said, and all the fight vanished from her. She peered up at him with more of that hatred. “I should have known it was a useless cause.”
I’m nothing like my father! “So you despised him.”
“Yes,” she hissed.
“Yet you slept with him.”
“Yes! All right? Yes. I could tell you he tricked me. I could tell you it was a moment of weakness. What do you want to hear?”
His grip tightened as he gave her another shake. “The truth.”
Utterly calm, she said, “You
were a mistake. That’s the truth.”
With her words, she ripped a scab off his heart, and the wound bled into his soul. “You’re right,” he said, wishing he were emotionless. Instead, he was so torn up inside he wasn’t sure he would ever be able to put himself back together. “I was a mistake. And now I’ll show you why.”
He pushed her face-first into the ground, held her down with a knee in the center of her back and, while she screamed and tried to fight her way free, removed every strand of her hair, until he scraped her scalp clean.
The sound of a woman screaming, the sight of her struggling, caused so many terrible memories to rise. But even when he closed his eyes and shook head, the images wouldn’t leave him.
He’d never stopped being the man his father had made him, he realized. And he never would.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“SENT ONES, CO CO. Sent Ones,” Laila whispered as Nicola tucked her into bed.
“I know.”
“Demons, Co Co. Demons.”
“I know, sweetheart. But we don’t have to fear them, and Koldo assured me they won’t be able to hurt us.” And now, having witnessed what happened in the park, her confience in Team Good was untouchable.
“How did I not know they were out there? Why could I not see them?”
“Your eyes were closed. Now they’re open.”
“I...I...I’m not sure I can deal with this.”
Nicola remembered when they were little girls and Laila had tucked her into bed after she’d seen her first monster. How gentle and patient and kind her twin had been. “You’ve always been the strong one. You’ll find a way.”
A soft, humorless laugh left a sense of sadness behind. “You always thought that. You always thought I was strong. But, Co Co, it was you. Always you.” Laila stuffed her ears with the buds from the iPod Nicola had given her for their last birthday. She’d scrimped and saved for months to afford such a little piece of technology.
Sighing, Nicola kissed her sister on the cheek and left her to her rest. Not knowing what else to do, she explored Koldo’s home. Awe continually struck her, and she felt as though she had entered a fairy tale rather than a third-world country. The house itself was built of pine, and smelled rich and clean, but the furniture was what really stunned her.
There were velvet couches and chairs, ornately carved tables. Glass figurines, and bowls filled with diamonds, sapphires, rubies and emeralds as big as her fist. There were tapestries on the wall, and plush carpets on the floor. And that was just the living room!
Koldo really was loaded.
The kitchen boasted gold-veined marble countertops, copper pots and pans hanging from a sterling silver rack, and a large refrigerator that blended with the cabinet woodwork. Nothing was out of place. Not a speck of dust had settled onto the surface of the hand-carved table.
There were four bedrooms. Laila had claimed the one closest to the kitchen, and Nicola picked the one at the far end of the hall. There was a huge monster-size bed in the center, the rails draped by sheer pink lace. Pink? Lace? In a warrior’s home?
Had a female decorated?
Nicola bit the side of her cheek, fighting a tide of jealousy. The comforter was a lighter shade of pink, but no less brilliant. And this must have been where Koldo had wanted her to stay because the blankets her mother had sewn a few weeks before the car crash were folded and resting at the edge.
A bejeweled ceiling fan whirled slowly overhead. A mural of the heavens had been painted on all four walls, with a bright sun in the right corner, shining upon clouds of every size and shape.
At the left was a large bay window overlooking a thriving grove of orange trees. And behind the lush green leaves and plump pieces of fruit, she could see several mountains and even a volcano blowing thick smoke through the air. There were three breathtaking ponds, with fish that jumped up and cleared the surface.
Nicola stood there, amazed by the beauty, watching as the sun set on the horizon, reds and pinks forming, creating the perfect contrast to the lush greens and blues of the sloping land. Birds sang.
How long would Koldo want her to stay here? She’d thought...hoped...well, it didn’t matter anymore. Koldo hadn’t wanted her to go on the date—a wonderful sign—but she’d gotten so angry she’d insisted. How silly. Especially considering the fact that she’d only accepted the date because he’d disappeared those three days.
Now he was back...but she was stuck.
What was she going to do?
A rustling of clothing behind her had her spinning. Koldo stood a few feet away from the bed, with his head down and his hands clenched. Strands of hair stuck to his face and chest, both dark and light. Dirt streaked his skin. He had bite marks on his hands. His breathing was deep and even, but he was using too much force, as if the hold he had on his calm facade was tenuous.
“What’s wrong?” All thoughts of the dating disaster left her, and she raced over to him. “Were you attacked again?”
Silent, he just sort of fell back into the plush chair behind him.
Worry filled her as she crouched in front of him and rested her palms on his rock-hard thighs. Heat radiated from him, enveloping her, and she shivered for a reason that had nothing to do with temperature.
“Talk to me,” she prompted. “Please.”
Golden eyes beseeched her to...what?
She’d never seen him like this. So torn up. So tortured.
So broken.
“Koldo.” What else could she say?
He leaned back, his head thumping against the wooden arch. “I...did something. Something terrible. It was deserved. I should be thrilled with the results, but...but...”
What could he possibly have done to cause this kind of reaction? “Tell me.”
He scrubbed a hand down his face. “And watch hate fall over your features, too?” Like Laila, he laughed without humor. “No.”
The strands of hair floated from him and into the air, twirling to the ground. He likes jokes. Tease him. “You gave someone a mullet, didn’t you?” she asked with a small smile.
He closed his eyes, pushed out a breath and lifted his arms up and back with fierce force, punching a hole in the wall. The sharp boom jolted her.
Such a reaction... Had he actually given someone a mullet? “Koldo—”
“I’m sorry,” he croaked, focusing on her. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
Okay, so maybe not a mullet, but his doom and gloom definitely had something to do with the hair.
“Make me forget,” he pleaded. “Just for a little while. Tell me a story.”
She would do anything to bring him peace. But what could she tell a centuries-old warrior to entertain him? Oh, I know! “One time, a girl in my class called me and Laila freakazoid Frankensteins because of the tubes coming out of our clothing—and I know, I know, it’s a very original name, but I digress. It made Laila cry. Notice that I said Laila. Not me, just so we’re clear. I did not spend twenty minutes in the bathroom, leaning against a very unsanitary toilet, sobbing so hard snot was bubbling from my nose.”
The slightest measure of pain faded from his expression, and he ghosted his hand over the line of her jaw. “What happened next?”
She shivered as she said, “You have to guess what very polite, very mannerly thing I did to pay the little wench back.”
“What?”
“Guess.”
“You, hard-core punk that you are, called her a very naughty name.”
“Nope. I punched her in the face and broke her nose. No one calls my twin sister a freakazoid Frankenstein and gets away with it. Let that be a lesson to you. You might want to write that down and circle it.”
He barked out a laugh. A very rough, very hoarse laugh, leading her to believe he hadn’t laughed in years. If ever. And she had been the one to bring him to that point, pushing him past his upset, drawing him out of miry darkness and into light. And oh, he was beautiful like this.
So badly she wanted to rise up, crawl int
o his lap and kiss him. Just press her lips into his, taste him, relearn him and offer comfort in another way. But after their fight...
“Another story,” he said.
“I’ll give you a question instead.” And probably sound needy, but she didn’t care. “Do Sent Ones date?” Obviously they kissed, but...
His brow furrowed, as if the change of subject confused him. “Some do.”
Don’t do this. Don’t press. “Do you?”
“No.”
Oh. The very disappointment she’d denied crashed through her. “Never?”
“Never.” He looked at her, really looked at her, his golden gaze boring deep. His arms lowered to his sides. His hands gripped the fabric of the chair, as if he had to force himself to be still.
To keep from punching another hole in the wall—or from doing something else?
“If I told you I had tortured another Sent One,” he said, “would you think I was a monster?”
Would she? “Did you?”
Silence.
Yeah. He had. And he’d felt the action, whatever it was, had been deserved. Wasn’t that what he’d said a moment ago? But still he regretted it, whether he realized it or not.
“What I’ve learned over the years is that people shouldn’t be defined by a single mistake. Everyone messes up,” she said. “You have to forgive yourself and move on.”
He ran his tongue over his teeth. “What makes you think this was my first mistake?”
She sighed. “You’re missing the point, Koldo.”
“Doesn’t matter. Whatever the point, I can’t forgive myself.”
“You can. It’s not a feeling, but a choice—and then acting on that choice. And I know I’m supposed to be the one seeking joy, but it’s clear you need it, too. I think your unwillingness to let go of this, whatever this is, is as much a toxin as what the demons cause.”
Another round of silence.
Well, wisdom hadn’t worked. She would try humor again. “I mean, seriously. All the best therapists on TV say that focusing on the past causes stagnation. And diarrhea.”
He barked out another laugh, then quickly sobered. “Did you ever do anything to hurt—” He pressed his lips together.