by Mary Abshire
She threw another punch at his face. This time she smacked his eye.
“Fuck!” he yelled.
His response came swift. He swatted his hand and hit her cheek. The sting of the slap rang in her ears. When she saw his fist coming she thrust her arm up, blocking him.
“Bitch!”
She bucked, trying to throw him off. He aimed his fist straight at her face. She turned at the last second, missing the hit. But she couldn’t avoid his other balled hand heading for her eye. The hit knocked her head back.
“That’s right, bitch!”
Tiny blades sliced away at her head and spread to her nose from the blow. Stunned and in agony, she was slow to respond. He slid down her body and then between her legs. As if she’d been given a shot of adrenaline, she jerked upright, screaming and swinging her arms at his head. Fury rang in her voice and burned in her throat. She got two hits in before he started blocking himself. She managed a third smack to his nose when he lowered one of his arms. But then he threw a punch to her ribs. She gasped in pain, clutching her abdomen and curling onto her side.
“Fucking whore!” he spat.
He ripped her dress open and then grabbed her underwear. His fingers dug into her flesh before he tore her panties. Struggling to breath, she kicked her legs. This was not happening. She was not going to let him rape her. He grasped hold of her hair and then thrust her face first into the ground. Cool grass pressed against her. She couldn’t breathe and tried to push herself up. He was behind her, pressing his groin against her ass. Fear snaked through her and she screamed with every ounce of energy she had, but the ground muted her voice. Then she heard a thud. Not even a second later, the weight on top of her was gone.
She turned her head and filled her lungs. A few feet from her, Andrew was sitting on Harold. Andrew raised his hand. In it, he gripped the switchblade. He stared down at Harold with fierce rage as if he were an angry bear ready to rip apart his prey. The knife swished into place. In one swift swing, Andrew buried the blade into the side of Harold’s neck. Dark fluid spilled out around the wound and from Harold’s mouth.
Andrew panted as he sat on the dying man. Harold’s eyelids stayed up and his mouth hung open. Blood continued to ooze from the wound. Andrew crawled off the man, but his gaze never wavered. On his knees, he stayed close to Harold and watched as if he were waiting for something to happen.
Emily stared in shock. She’d witnessed Andrew stab the man in the neck. He’d actually done what he’d said he would do.
A dark shadow sprang from the body on the ground. Andrew jerked in surprise. He quickly brought his hands together and caught the dark mass. In a split second, a whoosh of black ash the size of large snowflakes appeared in place of the shadow. The particles fell to the ground and disappeared while others floated away in the wind.
Emily shivered. She stared at Andrew with wide eyes. She’d wanted answers and she’d got them. The truth scared her more than the Exorcist and every horror movie she’d ever seen.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Andrew huffed as he kneeled next to the dead body. Sweat trickled down the sides of his face. He’d run as fast as he could to get to Emily. Her screams sounded worse than nails on a chalkboard. When he’d heard her cries, he’d sprang into action. Thank God he was athletic and quick on his feet.
The demon hadn’t seen him coming. Rage consumed Andrew when he saw the demon holding Emily to the ground. Andrew shoved his foot in the demon’s face and then threw him off Emily. Instinct took over and he knew what he had to do. There wasn’t any thought or hesitation. The demon had to go. He’d shoved the blade into the demon’s throat. Game over. His first kill wasn’t so difficult after all.
Movement on the other side of the dead body caught his attention. Emily pushed herself to her hands and knees. Her dress had been torn and hung open, revealing her ripped dark panties. She looked unsteady, out of sorts, and above all, frightened. Thank God he’d arrived when he had. If he’d been a minute later… He didn’t want to think about it.
“Emily,” he said as he rose.
She sat on the ground and continued staring at him. He stepped over the body to move closer to her. She widened her eyes. He reached for her and she scurried backward on her hands and bare feet. When she bumped into the car she stopped.
“Stay away,” she said in a hoarse voice.
He took a step forward and then crouched. “Emily, please.” He held a hand toward her.
“Don’t touch me!” She shrieked and drew her legs close to her chest. “Don’t. Please. Don’t come near me.”
He looked at his palm, then his other. Soot covered both of them. The ashes of the demon clung to his skin. He shot his gaze to her. Had she seen it? Did the demon dissolve when he touched it?
He wiped his hands on his jeans. “He’s gone. He won’t hurt you or anyone ever again.”
Her breaths were heavy and her eyes remained wide. Seeing her so frightened and hurt tore his heart apart. He wanted to help her, to hold her, to let her know she was safe. If only she’d let him touch her.
“I won’t hurt you,” he said, calm. From his crouched position, he fell forward onto his knees. “I promise. I won’t hurt you.”
She stared at him as she held her legs close, hand locked over her wrist. Her eyes slowly returned to their normal size. She looked past him at the dead body. A tear streaked down her cheek.
“I didn’t know that’s what it would be like. I haven’t done anything like this before,” he said.
Her silence concerned him. She’d been injured and nearly raped. She’d watched him stab a man and destroy a demon. If she remained sane, she was one hell of a strong woman.
“You killed … it,” she said.
“Yes. The demon is gone.”
She unlocked her wrist and pointed at him. “Show me see your arm.” Her voice sounded scratchy. She must have screamed hard enough to damage it.
Without asking, he knew which arm she wanted to see. He rolled up the sleeve before he crawled closer to her.
“Stop there,” she said.
He halted near her side and extended his exposed forearm.
Her breathy became heavy again. “It’s gone.” She cried and buried her face in her knees.
His bare arm looked normal, but strange now that the writing had disappeared. He had no idea when the next name would show up.
“I never lied to you, Em,” he said, hoping to ease her mind. “I told you the truth from the very beginning. You didn’t want to believe me.”
Her sobs made his heart weep. He wanted hold and comfort her so much. He inched closer, dragging his knees over the ground. She sniffled and tried to calm her breathing. He stopped moving when she lifted her head.
She made a throaty noise as she wiped her face. “You need to get rid of the body.” Makeup had smeared down her cheeks. She looked at him with the saddest eyes he’d ever seen. “I don’t want to go near it.”
He nodded in understanding. “Right.”
It had to be difficult for her to realize the truth. He didn’t know if she’d seen a man killed before or not. Without a doubt, he figured she hadn’t ever seen a demon destroyed. She’d said she didn’t believe in heaven or hell. If she’d seen the demon she would likely change her mind. Maybe she struggled to accept the truth.
He stood slowly while she continued to wipe away tears. As much as he wanted to comfort her, he knew she had to work through this on her own. He walked over to the dead body on the ground.
Emily rose with shaky legs. She took a few steps away from the car as she grabbed her hair and held it behind her head. Andrew thought it strange how she was concerned about her locks until she hurled. She bent over and more fluid came shooting out. Feeling nauseated from watching her, he turned away. He’d rather deal with dead body disposal duty than puke.
He gripped the handle of the switchblade and yanked it out of the man’s neck. More fluid spilled from the wound. He wiped the blade on the man’s shirt as be
st he could and then tucked the knife back inside. After he slid it into his pocket, he picked up the man’s feet. He dragged the carcass toward the tracks. Emily continued to retch.
Andrew pitied her for what she was going through. If she’d only believed him days ago, maybe tonight wouldn’t have been so rough. On the bright side, the demon was dead and now she knew he hadn’t lied to her.
He tugged the body over the first tracks. The head clunked on the thick wood. He hefted the body over the next set of rails. The dead weight wasn’t easy to move, but he had bench-pressed one hundred and fifty pounds before. If blood hadn’t been pouring from the neck, Andrew would’ve carried the guy.
After a long haul, Andrew finally reached the river. He looked over the edge and a wave of stench hit him. Nose wrinkled, he stepped back and resisted the urge to barf. Not wasting any time, he rolled the carcass over the edge. The dead body rolled down the ravine until it splashed in the water. Holding his breath, he watched the body float downstream several feet before it disappeared in the water.
Andrew returned to the Jeep to find Emily sitting in it and the engine running. He climbed into the passenger seat.
“Are we going back to the hotel?” he asked.
“Yes.” She shifted the gear. “I need to scrub…” Her voice cracked. She cleared her throat. “Clean up.”
He reached to touch her shoulder and she recoiled from him.
“Please don’t,” she said.
A wave of grief flowed through him as he lowered his hand. “I’m so sorry, Em.” He didn’t know what else to say.
She drove through the wooded area with the lights off. The bumpy terrain seemed worse than the night before, but maybe it felt that way because of his queasy stomach. After she reached the main road and found it clear, she switched her headlights on.
For the longest time she drove in silence. His concern for her remained strong. He clenched his hands to keep himself from touching her. She looked like a zombie staring straight ahead. She had pale skin and dark streaks on her cheeks from when she’d cried earlier. They passed near a light and he noticed one of her eyes was puffy.
“Did he hit you?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Shit. I’m sorry.” He hated that he hadn’t been there sooner. He’d carry the guilt with him for a long time.
“Where were you?” she asked.
“I was on my way. I went to get something to eat at the chicken place. When I checked the phone for the time, I noticed it wouldn’t come on. I remembered seeing the red light flashing earlier.”
“The battery,” she said. “Didn’t you charge it?”
“I didn’t take it out of the bag when you came by earlier. I wasn’t thinking about it. I’m sorry, Em.”
Feeling like a total idiot, he looked away from her. Some angel he was. The one person he cared about had nearly been raped trying to help him. Sure, he’d eventually stopped the demon, but it didn’t make the situation any better. The damage was done.
“I never wanted you to get hurt,” he said, staring out the window. “I never liked the idea of you risking your life.”
She cleared her throat. “It’s done. I don’t want to talk about it.”
He turned his attention to her. “If I could change things, I would.”
Her lip quivered. She blinked and a tear fell from her eye. She quickly wiped it away.
“I feel sick again.” She lowered her window and cool air rushed inside the car.
“Do you want me to drive?”
“No. I’ll make it, but I will need you to do a favor for me.”
He twisted to face her. “Name it. Anything.”
“When we get to the hotel, I’ll give you the keycard. I need you to get a pair of jeans and a shirt for me. I don’t want to walk in like this and attract attention.”
“I’ll get clothes for you.”
They reached the bridge to cross the river. Emily remained silent as she drove over it. He continued to check on her through quick glances. She seemed calmer, but when she sniffled or wiped her face, he knew the storm was still swirling in her head. Her composed façade was only skin deep.
“Do you want to talk about anything?” he asked.
She made another clearing sound in her throat. “What I’d like to do is take a very long hot shower, then sleep. I’m still processing everything. When I’m ready to talk, I’ll let you know.”
He sighed heavily. She was smart and trying rationalize things. That’s what women did, even Troy agreed. He’d give her time.
The hour on the dash showed 11:38 when she reached the hotel. She pulled into the lot behind the building instead of going through valet. Lights shined bright over the various idle cars. The area looked quiet given the late hour. City life in Pittsburgh didn’t compare to Chicago’s nightlife. She parked the car in the first available spot.
“I’ll need a pair of shoes too,” she said as she reached between the seats. She hefted her purse.
“Is my bag still in the back?”
“Yeah, so is my computer case.” She handed him the keycard.
“I’ll take them both up.” He pushed opened the door. When she grabbed his arm, he stopped.
Bent over the seat divider, she rubbed her fingers over his skin. “It’s really gone. Like it was never there.”
“Crazy, huh?”
Her lip quivered as she returned to sitting upright. Damn, he hated to see her so distraught.
“Em—”
“Go,” she said and looked away from him. “Hurry back please.”
Obeying her wishes, he left her in the Jeep. He stopped at the back and gathered her computer case and his bag. After shutting the trunk with a thud, he headed for the hotel.
The night had turned out a success, but at a steep price. Emily’s pain was severe. Though she was trying to deal with it, he feared he might lose her friendship. He felt guilty for her injury and ordeal with the demon, but he couldn’t take the full blame for her struggling to face reality. He’d never lied to her. Bottom line, if he’d never asked her for help, then things would be different. Somehow he had to make amends. Better yet, he needed to find a way to help her deal with her situation. He owed it to her.
He walked in the back door of the hotel and headed for the elevators. The front desk attendant lifted his head as Andrew walked by, but he promptly returned to whatever he was doing. After rounding a corner, Andrew waited for one of the two elevators.
His thoughts returned to Emily. He didn’t have money to offer her. All he had was himself. And who was he? Some angel sent back to Earth to kill demons. How could that help her?
The elevator arrived with a ding. Andrew stepped inside and punched the button for his floor. During the ride up, he returned to his previous question. How could an angel help her? What do angels do? They save people. They protect people. They encourage people to do good things to get to heaven. They…
The ah-ha moment came to him. She had a colored aura. Her prior actions prevented her from going to heaven. But what if he could help her change that? He’d gladly help her get to the kingdom above. The question was how.
The elevator stopped on his floor. He strode out with a new game plan. He was going to find a way to help change her soul’s resting place. And he had a good idea how to do it. Now, he had to find a way to convince her and ultimately, the council.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“The bathroom is all yours,” Andrew said as he strolled out shirtless and with a clean pair of jeans. He had a small towel around the back of his neck and his damp dark locks were in a sexy state of disarray. Dying young and healthy definitely had its benefits.
Emily set the hand towel full of ice on the table. Pictures of her with Troy and Libby were spread out before her. She’d been holding it on her swollen eye and reminiscing the past while she’d been waiting for Andrew to clean up. She’d let him go first since she planned to stay in the bath for a while.
She rose from her seat. A sh
arp pain ignited as she placed pressure on her ankle. Not only did her body ache from her blistered toes, sprained ankle, and the punch she’d taken to her gut, her head hurt from thinking too much. Her brain hadn’t turned to mush yet, but it was getting there. What a night. What a week. What a nightmare she was living in. She winced as she took slow, wobbly steps.
“Do you need help?” Andrew tossed the towel on his bed as he hurried toward her.
She paused and held up her hand. “Stop, I’m not crippled. I can make it on my own.”
The man had a good heart and his intentions were in the right place, most of the time, but she wasn’t a mistress in distress for him to save. Well, maybe some distress, but she could do things on her own. She always had and would continue to do so.
His shoulders slouched a tiny bit as a look of defeat came over him. “Can I at least get you some Aspirin or liquor? Maybe a wrap for your ankle?”
Andrew’s persistence made her head ache more. “No liquor. I don’t want any of that around.” She’d puked up enough alcohol earlier that she wanted to avoid all of it for a week at least. “Can angels heal?”
“No.”
She limped forward and he moved to the side. “Then ice for my ankle will have to do. I already took some pills for my headache.”
She paused to collect the pajamas she’d laid on the bed. She wanted to curl up in the fleece clothes under warm blankets and sleep, but she had to clean off the filth from her body and any lingering prints from the demon who had touched her. Bile crept up her sore throat as she thought about the demon. She was going to vomit again if she kept thinking about him, or it. Hell if she knew what to call the thing.
She closed the door in the bathroom before she set her clothes on the counter. The smell of Andrew’s shampoo hung in the air. Steam continued to cloud the top of the mirror. He’d set his shaving supplies, stick of deodorant, and toothbrush near the wall and away from her mess spread around the sink. As she moved closer to the tub, she spotted a small pile of used towels behind the commode. In a hurry to get off her tender ankle, she removed her jeans and shirt and then carefully stepped into the tub.
