Terry stared at her. “I didn’t call you a demon.”
“No? You asked me if demons lie was appropriate for what I said to him.” She wagged a finger at him. “That is calling me a demon. For fuck’s sake, I was an angel once.”
“Christ, Armen, that isn’t what I meant,” he replied, his voice just above normal speaking tones. “I mean, I didn’t mean for it to sound that way . . . Oh, to hell with it. You’re pissed at me and you have every damn right to be. I’m an ass, okay?”
“You’re an ass, all right. And I told you not to use His name in conjunction with mine.”
“Jesus Armen Christ!”
She crossed her arms over her chest again. “Oh, now you’re being juvenile.”
“Am I? Really? I’m not the one who has an issue with His name being used with mine.”
Armen growled and glared at him. “See, I knew this would happen.” She waved a finger, pointing at Terry and then at herself.
“You knew what would happen?”
“This . . . what we’re doing, arguing because you threw my past in my face.” She motioned with her hand again. “This is why I didn’t want to get close to anyone, Terry. This is why I didn’t want to tell you about myself. I told you I didn’t want a relationship. You just had to kiss me, didn’t you?” She balled her hands into fists and hit her thighs to stop the tears from coming. If there was one thing in the world Armen hated, it was being vulnerable, and boy, had she opened herself up for that one.
He lurched forward, grabbed her by the arms, and pulled her close. “This is what a relationship is, regardless of whether or not it’s a friendship, Armen. You can’t hide for the rest of your life from the entire world. This is a part of life.”
“Well, I don’t like it!” She tried to free herself from his grasp. “Let go!”
“No.” He tightened his grip. “I am not going to let you run and hide from this.”
“Who says I’ll run and hide?” She raised her tear-filled eyes to him. “And you can’t dictate my life. He gave me free will, too.”
Terry just shook his head. “I’m not trying to dictate your life, but for a Grigori, I’d think you’d know more about human nature than you seem to show.”
Armen lowered her head and the well of tears fell. “I was a bit different than the others, besides being the only female.”
Terry moved his hand to her face to wipe the tears from her cheek. “That was mourning hundreds or thousands of years old that came out in the room next door, wasn’t it?”
She nodded, but kept her head low.
“My God, Armen, why couldn’t you mourn for your only son before that?”
She slowly raised her tear-filled eyes to his. “I didn’t have time, nor did I have closure like you had today.” She nearly choked on the words. “They cast me into the Darkness before I could blink. You call it Hell. Well, you don’t cry in Hell. You don’t feel in Hell. It feeds off you if you do, and it drains you down to nothing, until you’re just another poor soul, trapped there for eternity without hope until the End. That’s how they keep you—barely a shade without hope.” The last lines fell into a whisper and she lowered her head once more.
Terry sighed. “Then what you did for my mother . . . . Shit, Armen.” He pulled her to his chest and held her in his arms tightly. “You and I have a unique relationship in that we tend to like to argue with each other, and it works for us. I love that you argue with me. I love your stubbornness. I love it when you giggle, and that I am one of the few people who can make you do so. I love your strength. And I love that you’re an intelligent, beautiful woman who can dissect anything and kick a demon’s ass all at once.”
She laughed.
He ran his right hand up her arm and to the back of her neck. “I made a mistake. I’m sorry. Really, truly sorry. I’m only human.” He ran his left hand up to her shoulder. “You have eons ahead of me, Armen. You’re not as likely to make those mistakes.”
“That’s not true. I haven’t been human all that long. And you weren’t something that I can use against you.”
“I promise you I will never use that again.” He leaned forward. “He played me like a jealous boyfriend, and I fell for it. I’m not happy that I fell for it.”
“Neither am I,” she said softly.
“I know.” He pressed his cheek against hers.
“You really need to learn how to distinguish their tones.”
“I know,” he repeated next to her ear. “My father said the same thing.”
She pulled back to look him in the eye. “And you need to trust me, more than you say you do.”
He nodded, then lowered his head and looked into her eyes. “Will those deep blue eyes forgive me?”
“How can I forgive you? I’m no angel. Not anymore.” She lowered her gaze and stared at the stone floor.
Terry slipped his fingers beneath her chin and raised her head. “You’ve always been an angel to me.” He slid his hand to the back of her neck once more and pulled her into a kiss. Then he rested his forehead against hers. “I love you, Armen. I know you don’t want to hear it, but I do love you. I have for some time now.”
Armen threw her arms around his shoulders, knocking him back and onto the stool behind him. The motion took him completely by surprise. He wrapped one arm around her waist to catch her and the other hand shot out to grab the counter to stop them from falling off the stool. His lips brushed against hers, and it was all she needed. She returned his kiss fiercely, biting his lower lip. He ran his hands up and down her back, traveling into her golden hair, back down to cup her ass, and he pulled her onto his lap.
Sean’s voice traveled down the stairwell from the study: “Everything all right down there?”
Terry jerked his head away from Armen and cleared his throat. “Fine, Dad.” He looked at Armen. “Damn, I feel like a teenager.”
She laughed and moved forward to kiss him again, but he stopped her. “Not a good idea right now. House full of guests.”
Armen pouted, and he chuckled.
“No, really, it’s not.”
“One more kiss?”
Before long, he had to push her away again.
“My, aren’t you the little devil,” he said and froze. “I didn’t mean—”
She threw her head back with a laugh. “It’s okay, Terry. I’ll accept that.”
He breathed a sigh of relief. “Lucky me. Come on, we need to get upstairs.”
She slid off his lap and stood waiting for him, trying to figure out what happened and why she felt so damn happy. Had she really spent so much time in the void that she couldn’t even recall what emotions were like? Apparently so. In Gehenna, they learned to turn off emotion, or wither into nothing as Hell sucked away their souls.
And that was all before Samyaza had Sariel pull her from the Darkness and gave her demon flesh.
When Terry got to his feet, he leaned over and gave her a peck on the cheek, took her hand, and they headed for the stairs.
“So, will I get to see that lovely little hidden tattoo of yours anytime soon?”
She lifted her shoulder and flashed a smile as she stepped through the doorway. “Maybe, if you’re a good boy.”
He let her go up the stairs first and slapped her ass at the top of the stairs. “I thought women liked bad boys.”
She hopped into the study with a burst of laughter and abruptly turned. “Good boys can be bad when they want to.”
He looked at her curiously. “Oh, got it.”
“I wonder about you sometimes.” When she reached the doors to the study, she heard the chatter and laughter of people coming from the two front rooms as she checked her face in the mirror. She turned to him. “Why are they so cheerful?”
He slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her close. “They’re celebrating my mom and the life she lived.”
Armen smiled faintly. “That’s what they’re supposed to do.” Her eyes welled with tears.
Terry reached up to w
ipe a tear from her cheek and he nodded. “It’s what she would have wanted.”
She looked up at him, into his green eyes. “Terry, I’m so sorry about your mom. I wish I could have changed it.”
Terry shook his head. “Don’t. It’s not your fault.”
She knew he spoke the truth. “Come on, I think there are more people who want to welcome me into your family.”
He laughed.
She led him through the kitchen, and Sean appeared in the entry before they reached it. He eyed them both.
“Everything all worked oot?” He headed for the counter with an empty tray. They both confirmed all was well, and Sean smiled as he set the tray down. “Guid. Noo, allow me to properly thank the lovely lady before you parade her off to the rest of the clan.”
Armen chuckled and held out her hand.
Sean shooed her hand away and pulled her into a hug. “Thank you again. It’s wonderful to have finally met you.” Armen could only nod and smile when he stepped back, holding her hands in his. His eyes met Terry’s. “Your mither would have loved her.” Sean leaned forward. “She thanks ye too, for saving me, by the way.”
Armen nodded once more. She wondered if Sean could hear his wife’s voice, since she knew he could hear His.
“And for saving her, too,” he added, his eyes focusing intently on Armen’s.
Well, that answered that question. “You can hear her.”
Sean gave her a big smile. “It’s ma gift. Noo, go on, Terry. Take her to the rest of them.”
Terry took her hand and tugged, but she pulled him back. “Wait,” she said to Sean. “You said that He still loves me. Is that true?”
Sean’s smile widened. “Of course it’s true, dear. When does a father ever stop loving his child?” Sean took her hand again and patted it gently. “We’ll discuss it when we dinnae have a house full of folk.”
“Come on, Armen.” Terry tugged on her arm again. “Let’s join the crowd.”
She let Terry lead her out of the kitchen, her mind going a million miles a second at the revelation that He still loved her—her Father. She supposed it wasn’t so far-fetched. But why flesh? Was she on the path to salvation? Was this life her chance at redeeming herself, her soul? Perhaps she was here to work out her issues with Him, to prove her faith in Him. But her faith was different from a normal human’s faith. Much like Sean, who heard His voice, she didn’t have to rely on mere faith to know He existed. Armen had been in His presence, had bowed before Him and stood next to Him. She had once been in the Kingdom of Heaven and knew its glories before coming to Earth to watch over man.
What am I missing?
Terry led her around and introduced her to everyone, where Uncle Seamus greeted her with another big bear hug. She squeaked before he set her on her feet again. Armen met almost the entire Armstrong clan, and for the first time in her life of being flesh, she felt the warmth that radiated from their laughter and closeness as they held one another and reminisced about Lucille. When she looked up at Terry, he smiled and didn’t look quite so aged any longer. He looked down at her, still smiling, and brushed his fingers gently across her cheek, and then he leaned over and kissed her temple.
At last, Armen didn’t feel quite so alone in her flesh.
The after-wake lasted until mid-evening with a tipsy Sean hugging everybody at least five times apiece until his brother finally got him to sit down. They’d had an actual wake prior to the funeral. Armen wasn’t sure what this one was other than a party to remember her. Seamus and his wife planned to spend the rest of the week with Sean; they’d arrived a day before the funeral to help around the house, which made for a very grateful Terry and Armen because of the leftover mess. Demons were a messy bunch—all that damn ash; it was a wonder they didn’t sneeze their heads off or choke on the dust. Sean had swept it into a pile, but hadn’t disposed of it before they left the room.
Then there was all the blood in the master bedroom. Armen wouldn’t let either of the men near the room until she collected what she considered useless evidence—orders from the captain—and cleaned the room herself. Who Brian thought he was going to convict with the evidence, she didn’t know. But Brian couldn’t handle anything outside of routine, which was another reason he didn’t like her, so she didn’t ask questions.
She was nervous about being in Terry’s house alone with him after the funeral. Despite what happened earlier, and the fact that she now felt like she was a part of something, Terry scared the hell out of her. The idea that a man could love her knowing what she used to be was completely incomprehensible to her. Ezerah’s father hadn’t known she was Grigori. The horrified look on his face when Gabriel had killed their only son was enough to tell her how he would have felt about it. He wouldn’t even look at her when they took her away; he’d just turned his back. Customary, but no less hurtful.
When Armen and Terry arrived at his house late that evening, Armen retreated directly to her room, telling Terry she was exhausted from the whole day and she was going to try to get some sleep. Terry only nodded when she looked briefly in his direction. She shut the bedroom door, undressed, and crawled into bed. Not long after, she discovered she truly was exhausted and fell asleep. At least she wasn’t lying to Terry when she said it, and she turned over on her side, pulling the covers up to her ear because she could hear Terry rummaging around in his room.
Armen felt pressure against her body and she struggled to wake up, stuck between worlds, still dreaming. Not again. She opened her eyes in her dream realm to find a woman sitting on top of her, pale blue skin, hair stringy and black, and eyes as dark as an eclipsed sun with fire around the edges of the solid black iris.
“Banshi. Get off me.”
Her dark blue lips curled up in a sadistic grin at Armen’s recognition. She leaned forward, hovering over Armen’s face.
“Sweet Azel,” she whispered and drew in a breath.
Armen turned her face away from the demon’s mouth and struggled to push her off. Banshi held fast, having the upper hand on fighting in this realm. Fighting in another plane of existence was completely different from physical reality.
She tried to push her off again, but she just didn’t have the strength. Why did she feel so weak?
The demon pressed her cheek against Armen’s. “Come, my sweet Azel, do not struggle.”
“Get off me,” Armen shouted and kept pushing. She had no power other than to turn her head to keep her mouth away from Banshi’s.
The demon giggled. “I do love this realm of the human mind.” Her lips moved against Armen’s flesh, and she flicked out her tongue and drew a line up Armen’s cheek. “If they only knew its vulnerabilities.”
“Banshi, I’m warning you.” Armen’s impatience and anger grew. She’d had about enough of it all. Someday, she’d like to get a full night’s uninterrupted sleep. Before the demons, her nightmares were of the life she had lived before her flesh. They were of things too gruesome to tell any human. Things that would make Terry turn tail and run, even as strong of mind and body as he was.
Imagining how nice it would be to see the demon fly off the bed, Armen worked her right arm loose and hit Banshi upside the head. The demon tumbled off the bed and hit the floor. Armen scrambled from the bed and stood to face the rising demon bitch who had invaded her dreams.
“Holy shit.” She looked at her open hand, closed it, opened it again. Okay, visualizing is the key. I can do this.
“So you choose to oppose me, do you?” She pushed herself off the floor and glared at Armen from the other side of the bed, a twinkle in her eye at the thought. Armen knew she rarely got a fight and relished in it when one presented itself. “I have already made the call, my sweet. You are mine now.”
Terry. Given his Scottish lineage, he was sure to know what the call from the ban-shidh meant: Death had come. Armen looked at her indignantly and placed her hands on her hips. “You’re not even the real ban-shidh and had no right to make that call. You are not taking me, not to
night.”
Banshi stepped around the bed. “Oh, yes I am.”
“Well, Sariel already tried and he’s now dead . . . or no longer exists. Give it your best shot.”
Banshi’s tattered dress flowed behind her and wrapped tightly around her body, holes showing the flesh beneath. The dress was a shade or two lighter than her skin, making her look like the frozen dead wrapped in gauze. Her hand shot out, torn and tattered rags from her sleeves whipping through the air furiously and wrapping themselves around Armen’s right arm in a tight embrace. Armen fought against them and they tightened, but then she twisted her arm around the cloth and yanked Banshi forward. When the demon fell into her, Armen threw a left upper cut. Banshi flailed backwards, landing hard with a loud thud. The house shook as though an earthquake hit. Armen stood, wearing only her underwear and a white tank she’d gotten from Terry, ready for the demon with her fists in front of her.
Banshi slowly pushed herself up from the floor and wiped her lip. Blue liquid smeared down her jaw and she scowled at Armen.
“A blue-blood, I see,” Armen said. “I’ve killed many of you.” She lowered her head, but her eyes remained on the demon. “It was fun.”
“Perhaps so, but you were not flesh then.”
“In case you forgot, this is a dream, which means I’m not flesh right now.”
“True, but what happens to your body here will happen on the other side as well.” Banshi lurched forward, grabbed Armen by the shoulders, and threw her to the floor too fast for Armen to react. Once on her back, Armen threw her legs up and kicked a charging Banshi in the stomach, sending her reeling into the wall. Her strength surprised not only the demon-wannabe-fairy woman, but Armen as well.
Banshi peeled herself from the wall, leaving a gaping hole behind. Armen got to her feet. The demon walked across the bed and dropped down to the floor. She crouched low, her head down, not moving at all. That worried Armen.
Banshi let out an exasperated sigh. “You are making this difficult, Azel.”
“Tough shit,” Armen replied and took a few steps back to make room.
Dusk of Death: an Armen Leza, Demon Hunter novel (Armageddon Trilogy Book 1) Page 13
