Bound to the Fallen (Prophecy #2)

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Bound to the Fallen (Prophecy #2) Page 30

by Stevie J. Cole


  Raven laughed at my naivety and one of her eyebrows rose. “I’m just trying to help you find yourself. I can spot someone whose personality fits the submissive category from a mile away and you, my dear, sweet girl,” she paused as she looked me up and down again, “would be such a shame to waste the potential you have.” She smiled devilishly at me, “You only look like a vanilla.” Raven held her chin and studied me. The eerie feeling the coldness of her eyes gave me caused my stare to falter. I caught a glimpse of a white butterfly tattooed on her wrist as my eyes drifted to the floor.

  Keeping my head bowed, I glared up at Constance from the corner of my eye.

  Constance’s face was beyond pale. She brought her hands up to her mouth, cupping them over most of her face momentarily as though she were trying to hide some horrific scene from her sight. As soon as she brought them down she verbalized the panic she was feeling inside.

  “Okay, I’m absolutely freaked out here. This,” she waved her hands around wildly in the air, “yeah, this just is not for me. You do what you want, Brooke, but don’t you dare tell me about any more of this shit right here! This is just waaay too intense and kinky for me.”

  I searched the room for Ashley but didn’t see her.

  “Where’d she go?” a twinge of panic coated my voice as I asked Constance.

  She pointed to the back of the room. “Over there.”

  Following her finger, I saw Ashley handing the whip, and the sub, back over to Raven.

  Constance placed her hand on her hip and stared at Ashley. “Hmmm… wonder what Colton would think of all this. Pre-tty sure he’s got himself a freak-a-leek, a very experienced freak-a-leek.” Constance crossed her arms over her chest as she looked at me. “Your office is completely fucked up, you know that, right? I just can’t believe that these…”

  Her words faded into the music. I stood there in the middle of the dungeon, surrounded by more BDSM paraphernalia than anyone could possibly imagine. Several scenes were being played out all around me. The loud music was interrupted every so often by moaning, screaming, and the sound of whips cracking.

  I watched Ashley walk back in our direction and my view of her was momentarily blocked by long, blonde hair passing in front of me. My gaze followed the back of the blonde-headed woman. That walk seemed so familiar, so seductive and certain. The woman had on tall red high heels and what looked like a pleather bra and thong. I stared at her and as soon as she turned sideways, I recognized who she was.

  A large swell of anger consumed me and I grabbed Constance, my nails clawing into the flesh of her arm.

  “What the… owww!” Constance yelped.

  Tightening my grip on her arms, I almost screamed out, “Amy Moore!” as I pointed across the room at the blonde.

  “What the hell? That’s the slut that cornered you in the bathroom, right?”

  I just stared in absolute disbelief, watching as Amy bent over the edge of a couch. The man behind her raised his hand back and slapped her ass hard, her body moving across the arm of the couch from the force of his hand. Reaching back, he spanked her again, her mouth opening as she let out a loud moan. The man jerked her up and she ran her hands insatiably up his body. He pushed her back down onto the couch, and she spread her legs as he pressed his body on top of hers. He began biting down her body and pushed her bra to the side as he sucked her nipple into his mouth. Her hands were all over his body while he moved against her, yanking her hair, spanking her thighs, her ass, slamming her arms back behind her head and pinning her down as he kissed all over her.

  It reminded me all too much of Gavin.

  “What’s wrong with her?” Ashley asked Constance, pointing at me.

  “Well, Gavin’s old screw buddy’s here,” I heard Constance reply, but my eyes were still glued to Amy, burning the image of how sexually brazen she was into my head.

  If that’s what Gavin likes…

  “Huh?” Ashley must have seen what I was looking at because she let out a nervous laugh. “Oh! Shit!”

  Constance grabbed my arm. “Let’s go, why do you want to watch her?”

  “Do you think that’s how her and Gavin — ” I stopped myself midsentence.

  Constance drug me through the maze of chains and leather clad people toward the exit. “No, ma’am, we’re not gonna do this.”

  The three of us stopped on our way out and thanked Raven for her hospitality.

  The drive home was a complete blur to me because the only thing I could think about was that Amy Moore may have been right when she told me I was too timid for Gavin. I knew I had to do something.

  Chapter Thirty-four

  Gavin

  August 2, 2014

  I parked my car a few blocks away and walked in the direction of the club.

  Slowing my pace as I approached the crosswalk, I noticed a man dressed in a suit leaned against a building on the corner opposite the club. It seemed as though his gaze was locked onto me, studying me. He was a Guardian that had been placed to ensure we followed the rules. I was certain he had a more specific reason to be here.

  I’d never seen so many cars lining the streets and wasn’t sure how I felt about that number of people coming into this club. Raven was getting a little too lenient with her invitations and it made me worry that someone would discover the dark side of this club, the true reason behind Raven’s little parties.

  The faint bump of music came through the thick metal door as I approached the front entrance. I knocked and waited for the door to be opened. The sound of a car passing by caught my attention. Turning around, I saw Amy’s Mercedes pull into a parking lot across the street.

  The door to the club opened and the loud, heavy music playing inside flowed out onto the street. I stepped inside and Raven shut the door behind me.

  “Back so soon?”

  I glared at her.

  Her eyebrows arched. “Well, aren’t we in an ominous mood tonight?” She escorted me down the long corridor. “I’m guessing you’re not here for the party tonight? Just here to get your weekly fix?”

  My face remained expressionless as I answered her. “I’m on call. I’ve got to make this quick. I don’t have time for the formalities.”

  Raven turned right down the hallway.

  I was surprised when I found the blonde who’d serviced me the last time walk past. By now, she should have been dead. She was dressed in a tight leather leotard with a keyhole cut into the top, making her cleavage hard to ignore. Her hair was pulled up into a tight ponytail and I noticed the mark of a white butterfly on the side of her neck. Her eyes met mine; they were completely dull and lifeless. She reached out, her hand grazing across my chest as I walked by.

  Raven laughed and looked over at me. “You can take their soul away from them, but not the memory of you. Even the immortal part of them craves you. No wonder you drive those mortal women mad.”

  We reached the end of the hallway, stopping in front of the door. “Who turned her?” I asked, not bothering to conceal the agitation in my voice.

  Raven hesitated. Her dark lips pursed and a maniacal glint shone in her eyes. “Why, I did.”

  Sighing, I expressed my displeasure with her.

  “What? What is it, Gavin? It’s a gift. I don’t know why you get so angry about it.”

  Raven’s hand reached for the handle. I seized her wrist, snatching it from the door. My hand closed tighter around her delicate bones as my glare intensified. “A gift? You think this darkness is a gift?” Anger seethed within me. My breath deepened as I continued to glare at her.

  She jerked her wrist free from my grasp. “I do. It’s better than the alternative. It’s life, isn’t it? I gladly welcomed it over the nothingness of death.”

  “It’s a damned curse, Raven. At least in death they have eternal rest. There is no rest for us, ever! No end!” My voice boomed down the hallway. “Do you have any idea how long an eternity of this hell is? Your two-hundred years is not
hing compared to eternity. You’re still learning the torment this life really is!”

  Her eyes narrowed and she brought her face close to mine. “You don’t know, Gavin. You’ve never been on the brink of death. The concept of death is unfathomable to you. The fear – knowing you are moments away from dying.” She closed her eyes tightly and pulled her lips in. “The cold feeling that begins to creep across you, the weakness that falls over you. Your inner voice keeps screaming at you to just fucking breathe, to fight it, but it’s all you can do to keep your eyes halfway open. I could feel every part of my body shriveling up. Death is painful, Gavin. The worst pain you could ever imagine. I gladly welcomed this alternative.” Her eyes glanced down to the butterfly marked on her wrist. Her finger traced over it as she softly said, “I begged for it.”

  Raven opened the door, her eyes wild with anger. “Now, I have a party to host.” She abruptly turned her back to me and walked away, her heavy steps echoing down the hallway.

  Walking into the room, I pulled the door shut. There was only one girl this time and she was laid out on the couch, her legs draped over its arm. She glanced at me briefly before redirecting her gaze up toward the ceiling.

  I cocked my head as I curiously stared at the woman. She lacked fear. I flattened the front of my shirt out and said, “Stand up.”

  She lazily pulled her legs from the arm of the couch and placed them, one at a time on the floor. Her hands found the edge of the couch and she pushed herself up. She was frail, appearing as though death had already wrapped his fingers around her throat and begun to suffocate her.

  “You chose to come here?” I asked. It was a question we were forced to ask and each time I asked it, I despised it more.

  “I did,” she said softly.

  I walked toward her and knelt in front of her. Her eyes met mine and they already looked hollow. The pale green coloring of them was listless.

  “Why did you come here?” I asked.

  She held her wrists up in front of her and I noticed long scars covering her entire arms. Clean, straight scars from the edge of a knife marked every inch of her flesh.

  “I’m hoping that maybe you won’t hold up to your end of the deal and you’ll just kill me.” She bowed her head and then cut her eyes up at me. She pleaded, “Can’t you just kill me? Isn’t that what would happen eventually anyway, if I stayed long enough? I’d eventually die, right?”

  The ones that longed for death always bothered me. The idea of longing for eternal darkness struck something inside of me, reminding me of my own fall from grace.

  Running my hand over the top of my head, I said, “You would, yes, eventually. What I choose to take from you wouldn’t cause you a physical death, but what the others take, that will kill you.” I saw relief flood her face, but the relief was fleeting and quickly replaced by rage.

  “Why can’t you do it? Are you not powerful enough?”

  The insult enraged me, my arms flinched at my sides and I lunged at her. My voice bellowed against the concrete walls, “I am powerful enough to do whatever I so chose, without me none of this would even exist. My fall from grace was what bore this immortal darkness. I am the creature all of the legends, all of the myths are based on. I am sin, temptation, desire, and immoral pleasure.” My rage subsided. My fingers uncurled from my fists as I continued, “You don’t appreciate life?”

  She laughed. “Life? What life? I’ve never had a family. Never had a home. Never had friends. I sell my body to earn money that I can buy my drugs with. I get beat by random men, I’m abused. My body’s eaten up with disease…” She stopped speaking and forced a large smile, exposing missing teeth and inflamed gums. “I can’t even smile without people judging me.” She held her gaze on me as she stated, “I wake up in hell every day, why not just cut the agony short and let it be my soul that experiences hell. Just let my body rest.”

  A part of me pitied the woman standing before me begging for death. It didn’t seem fair that some people walk through their life, as short as it is, and never experience what it’s meant to be. I knew all too well what it was like to trudge through hell each day of your existence, to be tormented by demons of your past, to be controlled by your desires, addictions, and weaknesses.

  “I’m not even good enough for you to kill, am I?” she asked and hung her head to her chest. Her arm flung up and methodically rubbed her shoulder.

  My stare focused on her through the dimly lit room. I had only asked a handful of people the question I was about to ask her. “Do you long for death, or do you long for a new life?” I took several steps in her direction.

  Her face was expressionless. Confusion clouded her eyes as they moved to each part of my face, trying to understand what I’d just asked her.

  “I said,” the growl in my voice trailed off as my hand clutched the back of her head, bringing my face toward hers. “Is it death you want, or a new life, woman? You have but a few moments before I change my mind, and death will be your only option. Your soul will be damned and I can assure you what you’ve described to me pales in comparison to the tortures that await you.”

  Her hands pressed against my chest, attempting to force me away. She looked at me, her eyes still frantically searching my face for an explanation.

  “What are you?” Her hand touched the side of my face; her fingers ran across my lips and down to my chin. “I don’t believe you’re evil. You’re too beautiful to be wicked.”

  My chest rose from the large breath I drew in. “I am all the legends, whatever you want me to be. An angel forced to become a vampire, a demon, a damned soul. Those are only names mortals have given to beings they can’t quite comprehend.”

  “Have you ever been human?”

  “Never. I watched this world come to fruition. I walked this earth when the first blade of grass grew, but never have I been mortal. Even angels have free will and some of us… chose to give into the temptations of mortals. I believe some refer to us as fallen angels, personally I think it’s much more pleasing to the ear than vampire or demon, don’t you?”

  Her eyes widened as she tried to fathom what I was saying. “Can you make me one?” she asked.

  “An angel? No. Angels can’t be created from darkness – but demons can.”

  “Then what is my other option besides death?”

  “Immortality. A damned soul forced to wander this earth for eternity and feed upon the wicked. You’d become part of the darkness, part of the myths.”

  My hand felt along her neck. “Some parts of the myths have truth within them,” my voice faded to a whisper and my lips found their way to her flesh. “Your decision was death — but I choose which part of you dies.”

  Pulling her skin between my teeth, I slowly bit down, applying pressure to the tender part of her neck. Her hands pushed at my shoulders; the harder I clamped down on her the more she squirmed. When she felt my teeth finally crunch through her skin and puncture her jugular she let out a loud howl.

  The woman cried out, “Life! I chose life. I don’t want to die!” She balled her fists up and beat them against my body, the strength she had was surprising.

  Removing my face from her neck, I swallowed back the bitter taste of her blood. The thickness of it trickled down my throat. “Don’t fight me,” I warned.

  My mouth found her neck again and I syphoned the thick liquid from her veins. I could feel her heartbeat accelerating from the pain, and as a result her blood gushed into my mouth in spurts. Her body gradually leaned into me from her diminishing strength.

  Her head fell back against the wall, her cold body convulsing against mine. She was able to mumble, “Please –” and then went completely limp, her fists releasing the material of my shirt she had balled up.

  I held her body tightly and carried it to the couch, laying her down and looming over her lifeless figure. My fingers wiped her blood from the corners of my mouth. I brought my wrists up to my lips to bite down, but stopped. I didn’t wa
nt to leave any visible evidence so I bit the inside of my mouth instead. Placing my mouth over hers, I allowed my blood to seep into her mouth. I widened my mouth over hers and pulled in a large breath, the coldness of her departing soul coursed through my being. When my breath felt empty I rose from her and sat on the couch.

  My hand rested over her sternum, waiting on a pulse. As expected she inhaled deeply, her back arched up from the couch and a loud, agonizing moan escaped her. I felt her pulse quicken and steady itself. She frantically clawed at her skin, trying to tear it from her. Loud, torturous screams bled from her throat at full force.

  “I’m on fire! My skin’s on fire!” Her chest rose up as her body contorted from the intense poison bleeding through her veins.

  “The pain should subside shortly. Your body’s still dying, it’s confused.” I rose from the couch and headed toward the door. “Remember, you asked for this,” I said coldly as I glanced back, watching her writhe on the couch.

  “What have you done to me?” She let out another agonizing and strained scream.

  “Given you over to the darkness,” I said as I pulled the door open and left the woman to herself. On my way to the entrance I grabbed a half-naked woman passing by. “Bring Raven here,” I said.

  “Yes, sir,” she replied.

  I placed my back against the wall and crossed one leg in front of the other, palming the pendant hanging outside of my shirt. What I’d just done – the pity for that woman I’d just let overcome me should have been the first sign to me that I was losing control. It had been centuries since I’d turned someone. Taking a person’s soul is not near as degrading as feeding from their blood. A fallen angel’s ability to drink in a soul was what differentiated us from the rest of the demons damned to this life of torture and constant night. I was letting mortal emotions cause me to make eradicate decisions. I felt eyes on me and glanced up to see Raven coming toward me.

  “What do you need?” she groaned. It was evident she was still agitated with me from our earlier encounter.

 

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