The Rise of Monsters: Angelus Book One

by Brianna Jean

  “She stays with me.” I let the finality sink into my voice. I wasn’t accepting challenges, and my decision wasn’t up for debate. She was in my room tonight.

  End of discussion.

  Cabe lifted her body tighter against his chest but walked toward the stairs, giving up the fight. I wouldn’t admit out loud that my hands were shaking, the fear and residual pain from her Transition still lingering in my system.

  I followed my brother up the stairs, Quint walking behind me and mumbling shit under his breath about how unfair it was that she got to stay in my room and not his. I wanted to smack him.

  We all entered my room, the only light coming from the floor-to-ceiling windows that made up one of the walls. Cabe walked Annalise toward the bed and hesitated, looking back at us. I ran a hand through my hair, feeling the shaved sides against the palm of my hand. I was stalling, unsure what to say to them now that I had gotten what I wanted.

  We’d never fought before this, aside from the random argument here and there, so this was unsettling for all of us. Cabe set her down on the bed, brushing a lock of hair out of her face. The black strands were all over the place, matted with grime and blood from the alleyway, but even still, she was stunning. Her normally tan skin looked pale and smooth in the moonlight, her cheekbones sharp enough to create shadows against her face. Her small nose softened her features a little but not enough to take away from the natural fierceness of her appearance.

  “She needs to be changed into something else,” Quint said from my left. He’d come to stand next to me, his eyes unfocused but still staring in her general direction. I scanned his face in the dark room. His ashy hair was a disheveled mess on his head, sticking up in all directions as if he’d pulled on it as he walked up the stairs. Guilt flared in my stomach, forcing me to hide my wince. I wasn’t helping the situation by barking commands, but I was also too far gone to stop it.

  A new wave of possessiveness had me walking toward the bed, closing the distance between Annalise and myself as I checked her over again, trying to see if she was in any pain.

  Not finding any obvious signs, I lifted my head and said quietly, “Cabe, get her clothes from my closet and get her dressed.”

  My brother nodded, his blue eyes bright in the darkness. I watched him walk away before looking back down at her and reaching for her wrist. There was a hair tie there, ready to be used. As smoothly as my big hands could, I pulled it off, desperately hoping that the small movement didn’t rouse her. Before I could stop myself, I gathered the hair around her face, pulled the remainder from underneath her head as gently as I could, and twisted it all into a messy bun on the top of her head. I took a deep breath when I was finished, my hands shaking, my heart and mind at war with each other.

  When Cabe walked back in with an outfit for her, I tried not to think about the fact that he would be undressing her and putting her in my clothes. It was too much, all of it.

  I needed a fucking drink.

  “I’ll be back up in fifteen minutes,” I began, my voice stiff. “I want the two of you gone when I get here.”

  Quint laughed a humorless sound, shaking his head. “Yeah, whatever.”

  I didn’t bother looking at Cabe before walking out the door and down the stairs, heading straight for the whiskey.

  What. The. Fuck. Happened?

  I couldn’t move. I opened my eyes ten minutes before, but all I could do was moan as I tried to force my stiff limbs into submission. My back was on fire, and my mouth felt like I had four teeth pulled just before the dentist performed root canals on four other teeth—without novocaine.

  Every time I tried to roll over, I bit my tongue to stop myself from crying out.

  I was in a strange bed in a gorgeous bedroom. Looking around me, all I saw was black silk sheets and fluffy pillows for what seemed like miles. The bed was huge and stupidly comfortable. Well, it would be if I could feel anything remotely like comfort.

  In an attempt to sit up, I remembered my wrist had been broken in the fight with the Demon.

  Wait.

  Did I fight a fucking Demon last night?

  My eyes widened at the thought. I looked around again to search for another person, someone to clue me in on what happened to me, but I came up empty.

  I was alone.

  Remembering my wrist, I tentatively put pressure on it. Nothing. No pain, no cast. In fact, I felt more strength in it than I had before I broke it.

  What the hell?

  How was that possible?

  I lay back as the remaining events began to trickle into my mind. The Demon, the horrible ticking noise it made. I felt its hands squeezing my throat even now. I genuinely thought I was going to die, but then the Demon was thrown off me by someone…

  Someone with blue eyes.

  Quint had also been there. Seafoam too.

  That’s when the pain started.

  I sucked in a breath as I remembered it all—as I relived it. The horrible flames, the needles in my gums.

  Well, that explained the aching muscles in my back and the pain in my mouth. But I still had nothing to clue me in on where I was and how I got there.

  “You’re in my room,” a voice said from the shadows in the corner of the room.

  I let out a startled gasp and whipped my head toward the intrusion, noticing a long sofa that sat facing a wall made up of large floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the city skyline. Next to the sofa was a huge chair—almost like a love seat—facing the same direction, with a man sitting in it. It looked to be a separate sitting area within the room. He was looking away from me in the bed, but I could make out his strong features and dark hair.

  Seafoam.

  How did I not notice him before?

  I was out of sorts, out of my element, but now that he’d spoken, I could feel him as if he were standing right in front of me.

  “What am I doing in your room?” My voice was hoarse from all the screaming I did…some time ago. I had no idea how long I’d been out, but it was still dark outside, so it was either still my birthday or the night after.

  Based on the pain I was in and the fact that I passed out, it was safe to assume it had been a full twenty-four hours.

  My stomach rumbled, agreeing with my assumption. I was starving.

  “The Transition takes a toll on the Human body, and you needed a place to heal and rest,” he stated firmly, not even bothering to turn around, as if I understood what the hell he was talking about. He continued without clarifying, “So I brought you in here to do just that. Your internal wounds were healed by magic, the broken wrist and torn vocal cords, but the weakness and lingering wounds on the outside are still very much there.”

  I guess that was how my wrist healed, but…magic? Too much, too fast.

  I looked around the room again before replying. It was baking in darkness, but I could make out the lightly painted walls, probably white or gray. The plush black carpet on the floor. A dresser to the right, a TV mounted on the wall in front of the bed with an entertainment center underneath. All the furniture was black and bold with heavy gold accents.

  The room was masculine and classy. Neat and tidy. But there wasn’t a single thing in the room that gave away any hints about the man who lived in it. No pictures or mementos, just random paintings and photographs of New York City on the walls.

  It almost made me laugh, how different he and I were. I had album posters littered all over my walls, while his were nearly bare. The whole room lacked personality.

  “And now what?” I asked boldly. I wanted answers, and I’d get them. If not from him, from one of the others. I had little doubt in my mind that the other two guys were around somewhere. I could feel them like I now felt Seafoam—I knew that Quint and Blue Eyes were downstairs, walking around. Which was weird as fuck.

  “Now,” he spoke slowly, drawing out the word. I hated that I was tempted to lean forward and hang on every syllable. Even his voice was fucking sexy. “You tell me how much you know about
what happened last night.”

  He still hadn’t moved or turned around, just kept looking out the windows, staring at the striking view in front of him.

  “I think you already know the answer to that.” I tried to move off the bed as I talked, using my weak muscles to help me sit up, but couldn’t move much farther than to lean my useless body against the headboard. “You’re the one who accused me of not knowing anything about ‘what I was’ in the alley the other night, so there’s your answer.”

  He sighed, shaking his shadow-darkened head. “I was hoping to be wrong about that.”

  “Well, you weren’t.” I let out a bitter laugh. I was getting sick of the games these guys played. Showing up at my house in the middle of the night, leaving invitations to parties, only for those invites to lead me straight into the arms of a Demon. I had a feeling that they set me up, that they wanted me to get attacked by the Demon. It was odd though, because I didn’t feel like I was in any real danger. I did, however, feel like I was out of the fucking loop. Like I was the only one who wasn’t in on the big secret. I wanted them to just come out with it already. “So? Want to enlighten me, oh Dark One?”

  At that, he chuckled and stood up. He moved toward me with lethal grace as I watched from the bed. His tall frame was perfectly balanced, wide shoulders, thick thighs. I couldn’t see everything, but I was still able to see the cut jawline and sharp cheekbones, the outline of his plump lips. He dripped swag and confidence all over the floor with every step he took. He was beautiful, even in the darkness.

  I watched from my place on the bed, my eyes not giving anything away. If he thought he could intimidate me, he was a damn fool. He was torn about something, though I had no clue what it could be.

  Or how I knew that in the first place. Ugh.

  “Let’s get you downstairs.” He stopped at the edge of the bed, looking down at me. God, his eyes. In the nearly black room, I could only see the brightness of the green in them, making him look like a villain.

  He was the kind of villain whose team I’d willingly join, just for one night alone with him.

  “Downstairs to what? Why can’t we just talk here? Tell me what I need to know, and then I’ll be on my way,” I pushed. “I have no interest in being here longer than necessary.”

  “Get up, Annalise,” he ordered, ignoring my questions. I stayed still on the bed, glaring at him. Challenging him. He sighed. “I’m not giving you answers until you get your snarky ass out of this bed and downstairs where I can talk to you with my brothers present.”

  Brothers. Interesting. They didn’t look related. Blue Eyes and Seafoam could pass as brothers, but even then, they were yin and yang. Dark and light. Soft and hard. But Quint looked nothing like them.

  “And if I go downstairs, what happens then?” I asked, deciding to play. My stubbornness clearly riled him up; I could feel his frustration as it dampened the room. I had to hide my smirk.

  His eyes were so bright I could see nothing else. The darkness concealed the rest of his face, but the green of his eyes was enough to keep my undivided attention.

  “Coffee, a meal, and answers,” he stated, refusing to give me anything else.

  It was enough though—I’d get more information if I went downstairs with him.

  I could do that.

  I didn’t reply. Instead, I just slowly pushed my body from the headboard and scooted toward him. He tensed at my closeness, forcing me to hide my smile again. Fucker didn’t want to touch me.

  I wished I could’ve said the same. My body, even beaten and broken, ached for his touch. Somehow, I knew he would be able to help me sort out the mess that raged within me.

  Everything felt different. My skin, my hair, my teeth, my hands. I felt powerful and whole while at the same time, confused and shattered.

  I didn’t want him to know how affected I was by him, didn’t want him to know that I craved his touch even though he was still a stranger. Deep inside, I knew he didn’t feel like a stranger. He felt like the missing part of me. Like I was breathing new air since I met him.

  This couldn’t get any fucking weirder.

  Using my weakened legs, I got myself to the end of the bed and wiggled down until my feet hit the soft carpet. My shoes were gone, thank god. Those heels would do nothing for me now.

  It was then that I noticed my clothes were different than I had on last night. Now I wore a man’s T-shirt and loose sweatpants that were rolled at the waist and ankles, clearly too long for my short frame.

  “Hmm, these must be your clothes,” I pointed out, looking up into his gorgeous eyes. “What do you think? Should I keep them? Make this my new regular attire?”

  I was baiting him, using his reaction to gauge what kind of situation I was in. He didn’t seem flirty or playful like Quint, but he also wasn’t soft and secretly sentimental like Blue Eyes. No, he was surrounded by a glass house.

  He allowed people to see him, feel like he was there with them, when in reality he had them blocked out in every sense of the word. I understood that life, I knew the strength it took to keep people at arm’s length, to never really connect with another person. I lived it every day.

  For some reason, I wanted to send a knife through his house. I wanted to watch as it exploded into a million pieces at my feet.

  His eyes narrowed to slits as he took inventory of my body, his breath coming out just a little quicker. So he didn’t hate me wearing his clothes; maybe a small part of him liked it? But I knew he wasn’t going to admit that.

  “Let’s go, Annalise,” he finally replied with a small roll of his eyes before walking out of the room with tense shoulders and a stiff back.

  Oh yeah, I affected him alright. He was barely holding it together. His energy was mixed with hate and lust, swirling around me like a lazy tornado. He hated me, for some reason, but he also wanted to fuck me.

  Interesting.

  I looked down at my hands, seeing the ink I had done on the outside of my left wrist, just above a four inch rose that started on my hand and stopped just before the quote began.

  A not-so-gentle reminder to myself that I was strong and bold, but I was also broken and dangerous.

  I wanted to shatter his house just to prove that I could. I wanted to get a rise out of him; I wanted to see what that anger turned into when lust got involved.

  I could always recognize a compatible sexual partner. I’d had enough incompatible ones to get annoyed and make myself a system. I knew the signs of a solid performer, and this guy was showing every one of them.

  He’d be a good fuck. Rough and mean, he’d push every one of my boundaries, down to the final thread.

  Just how I liked it.

  I stood on shaky legs, laughing openly. This was going to be fun.

  Well, not the walking part...that shit was gonna suck.

  But once I got down there? It was on.

  I walked gingerly to the door he exited through and turned right toward the stairs that sat just outside his bedroom. I followed the delicious scent of…bacon? Who was cooking bacon at this time of night?

  They deserved a kiss. Or a blowjob. I was down for either.

  Taking my time, I took in the dimly lit hallway around me. Navy walls, white furniture, it was all very sleek. When I hit the bottom of the steps, I looked around, shocked. A humorless laugh bubbled out of my mouth just before a snarl took over.

  Of course these fuckers owned a goddamn penthouse. They were rich.

  My ghetto ass did not belong here. I was going to eat that bacon, get my answers, then get the hell out of Dodge. Hopefully before I gave into my strange desire to fuck one of them. Or all of them.

  “Pup is awake! The party can begin!” Quint came barreling down the short hallway toward me in nothing but gray workout shorts, his ashy hair even sexier at this time of night. I fought the urge to drool as I swiftly took in his glorious body. Abs on abs on abs. Yum.

  I immediately recalled the other night when someone was invisible in my room. It w
as him, it had to be. He used the same nickname, which clearly he wasn’t going to give up any time soon.

  It was him—I felt the same energy rolling off of him now as I did then. Bestia picked up her head at my thought, just now making a reappearance. I wondered briefly how she shifted back into her animal form but I couldn’t think beyond my shock. My whole body had gone tense, not sure what to do with my memories from last night.

  She…turned into wings?

  Hoping to take advantage of this opportunity, I opened my mouth to ask Quint what happened last night, but before I could even get a word out, he wrapped me in his big ass arms and lifted me off the ground, swinging me in a circle. I laughed once before pain lashed through my torso, reminding me how sore I was.

  Holy fuck.

  I wanted to scream against the pain, but I also felt every inch of contact our bodies made. My skin burned and tingled where Quint touched me. His chest against mine, my hands resting casually on his naked shoulders.

  “Put me down, asshole, I’m broken, remember?” I bit out between clenched teeth. I was in pain, yes, but the longer he held me, the more I itched to wrap my legs around his waist and find the nearest wall for leverage.

  He looked up at me, his eyes dancing with mischief. “I think you like a little pain with your pleasure, Princess. Bite me if I’m wrong.”

  I laughed out loud. Fuck, he was good.

  And he was right.

  “Oh, I’ll bite,” I whispered softly before leaning down and placing my mouth at his ear. “But let’s be real, you’re the one who truly craves the pain. I’m the one that will be dealing it out—I’ll be the one getting off on your screams.”

  I felt him smile against my shoulder as I put my tongue on the base of his neck, licking a hot trail up to his ear before biting down. He groaned, and I felt his dick jump in his very loose shorts right against my thighs.

  Yeah, I had him.

  “Hmm, little baby has claws,” he responded in a dark husky voice. “Should I tell you where to scratch?”

  I pulled back to look him in the eye before making a show of bringing my gaze to his full lips. I tilted my head down so our mouths were almost touching. “I don’t need direction; you’ll bleed the same from any spot I choose. It’s all about how deep I sink my claws.”