That would’ve been wrong. Who knew if it was just because I was frustrated by the loss of Frick and Frack. But the thought of actually having someone to wrap my arms around at night would’ve been soothing. To have someone who would wrap their arms around me would have been amazing. Why was I even thinking that way?
I didn’t love her. Maybe if I repeated that for the next seven years, it’d be real by the time I died.
I felt like horse manure. Great. I ran up the stairs to my room. I needed more than just a few weapons this time. There was no way in Hades I was bringing her home without every weapon I could carry. If anyone tried to hurt her I’d never forgive myself.
I dug through the top drawer of my chifferobe to get all my weapons. I tried to decide what I really needed.
“Is she leaving?”
D was at my door.
“Yes.”
I grabbed my glock, something I rarely carried, and tucked it in the back of my jeans.
“What’s with the artillery?”
“Did you catch it? ’Cause I missed it if you did.”
“We both know it’s being nursed by the Deumos right now. They wouldn’t let a bantling like that wander for this long.”
“I don’t know horse-pucky. Kiri could be hurt again on her way home.”
I stressed the word again hoping D would get the point.
“Nye. What’s gonna happen?”
“I don’t know, but I can’t let her be harmed again.”
“What’s doin’?” Lars asked, stopping by the door.
It was a goddamn convention.
“Nye’s pet’s goin’ home.”
“Why?” Lars asked.
“Why would she stay?”
“Have you asked?”
“No. Why would I?”
Lars just looked at me and shook his head.
“What’s goin’ on?”
D looked back and forth between Lars and me.
“Nothin’ I s’pose.”
Lars clapped me on the shoulder and locked his eyes on me. I never knew blue eyes could burn into someone’s soul. I turned away ashamed and holstered two more guns.
“Don’t forget a few blades,” Lars suggested. “It’d be a shame for anyone to get hurt…again.”
“D, can I borrow your truck?”
“I guess. If you tell me what’s up with you and Lars.”
“Why is everyone talking all of a sudden? Isn’t this your downtime? Don’t you have an other waiting for you?”
“You want her, don’t you?”
“I want to get her home. In one piece. That’s what I want.”
“You’re cutting it close. It’s already eleven.”
“Dilana, go with Lars and Schmitty. I need time. Please, let me do this my way.”
“You gonna be back by tonight?”
“Yes. It’s a noon one. We’ve gotten quite a few this week. Gabriel will understand with us being undermanned as it is. Please don’t make me rush this.”
“Be back by tonight…or…or I’m going to Gabriel. He’ll remove a hundred etches and add twenty years, at least.”
“Oh shucks, D, if you wanna keep me around, just ask. Don’t make Daddy ground me.”
“She’s going to be safe, you know. They never attack normals until the mouth closes.”
I tore off back down to Kiri’s room. Blades in my boots and on my belt. A gun tucked into my pants and a holster for the other two. My leather fingerless gloves with their steel reinforced knuckles held tight to my hands.
I knocked on Kiri’s door.
Chapter 7
Damarion
“Now who needs to recover?” I asked as blood trickled down my neck from the Deumos’ barbs. That’s the problem with women. They can come so many times I had at least a dozen cuts on my neck and back.
“We can still take you,” Zuma said through swollen lips. “We’ll recover just fine.”
She reached for the leather pants she had been wearing. Nemesio was also moving more freely.
“The more you break us in, the easier it is to recover. Zuma, love, are you sure you wouldn’t prefer to stay? I can lead him.”
“Nemesio, when was the last time you left the cul-de-sac? I’ll do it.”
They both rose but Zuma crossed to me. Her hand glided over my head, then came forward to my chin and pulled me in. She kissed me and I felt her lips return to normal as her tongue danced with mine.
“We are drawn to you, Damarion. Even if we wished not to be, we couldn’t help it. I’ve hungered for this day.”
Her fingers traced my lips while she cocked her head to the side.
“Pity it must end so soon, but you are out of practice.”
”Are you trying to invoke my wrath?” I growled.
“Invoke or challenge you to become greater.”
“So I should just trust you to be my champion.”
“Right now we’re all you have for sure.”
Flopping in my chair I rested my forearms on the desk.
“Are we not to follow Pivane?” Nemesio asked.
“The clear head and strength I feel following our…sessions,” I groaned. “Tell me more than watching Pivane have sex. Do you know where he is?”
“Probably at a truck stop at the edge of town. There tend to be whores selling their wares to the drivers.”
“Selling? Where does he get money for that?”
“Food money.”
“He wastes money on whores while leaving me to choose between starvation or death by toxin buildup.”
“Don’t worry, I think he gets it back after he’s killed them.” Nemesio’s chipper reply made my blood boil.
“He’s leaving bodies!”
“No…well…no, they’ll show up when the mouth closes. At least, that’s what I think he’s doing with them. He reminds me of when I was in London,” Zuma mused.
“When were you in London?” I asked as I pinched the bridge of my nose and closed my eyes.
“The end of the nineteenth century. It was not a successful closing. Our Second had a human that followed him too much. I believe he enjoyed watching.”
“I’m going to be sentenced again,” I groaned.
“Probably. You have been rather sloppy,” Zuma said flippantly, then straightened up. “I’m sorry, Yahweh. I didn’t mean…”
I put my hand up to stop her. She was right. I had been sloppy. Pivane was just the latest mistake.
“You said I was being poisoned? But you’ve also said by not taking you, I’m weakening myself. Which is the truth?”
“The duty of a Second is to keep you strong. To inform you of our purpose or insolence. Has he once come to you about any of us?”
“Who is not loyal to me? You all listen and follow my direction.”
“He has never encouraged us to come to you. Take you by force if need be. In many instances, he holds us back. Not allowing us into your room.”
“If it were not for Zuma distracting him, I could have never come to you the other night when you were so…tired.” At least Nemesio had learned to never use the term weak around me. Obedient. The way she should be.
“Damarion,” Zuma said with all earnestness. “By not informing you, he allowed you to be poisoned. Much like a person who sees someone cutting up a mushroom for their soup, but doesn’t inform them it will kill them.”
“Am I that bad of a Yahweh?”
“He is like many Yahweh I’ve known,” Zuma explained. “I do not find you weak. As a lover you are great. I know why the Princess cares for you. It grieves me that my feelings for you are what they are. I fight them every day for I am loyal to the Princess. If I was not forced to worship you by my station, I believe I’d still feel the same.”
“Who else in the house can I trust?”
“All of us are loyal to you,” Nemesio replied.
“Who buys the food?”
“Pivane. He beat me last time I tried to get some money.”
“Shall I kill
him now or later?” I growled.
The mere thought of another man laying a hand on Nemesio had me wanting to shed the blood of my enemy.
“You know he’ll just be replaced,” Zuma said. “The Prince probably has a hundred trained and lined up to take over for him.”
“Even if he’s replaced maybe in the few weeks it takes for him to mature and get to full strength—”
“My apologies Yahweh, but you cannot kill Pivane.”
“Why not?”
The two females turned and gave each other knowing glances.
“Two reasons. The first is it would take us months to get you strong enough to take him down unless you are able to heal quicker than most.” Nemesio said. “As long as you stick to how often you come to us.”
“Fucking the two of you more often is not a deterrent. What’s the second reason?”
“The dictate states the next one is to kill you. It’s their first duty. They are to challenge your superiority. Unlike our death, a male is not to be overthrown. Right now, he’s going for a slow enough death I assume so there will be no need for a second to arrive because the mouth will expire soon.”
“I thought I could kill anyone I wanted?”
“Not to be rude,” Zuma started. “But you also thought drinking the juice of ramen would do more for you than eating my pussy.”
“Right, all I’ve learned is a lie. And I can’t even punish the asshole that did it.”
“With your approval, we could go to him,” Zuma suggested. “Tell him we’re a reward for his loyalty. Then he’ll suspect nothing. These creatures he’s lain with cannot prepare him for what we’ll do.”
“You’ll lead,” I ordered my new ally.
Maybe I was stupid for trusting her, but at that point I had no choice.
“It’ll be my pleasure.”
I stood and cracked my back.
“Damarion, may I be so bold as to ask you, were you born in Hell or on Earth?”
“Zuma, I was born on Earth. A normal for twenty-six years.”
“How did you end up in Hell?”
The two of them stared like children at a TV screen.
“I killed myself.”
* * * *
Kiriana
“Time to go already?” I asked, feeling somewhat disappointed as I looked at Nye with his large black leather coat, heavy boots, and broken-in jeans.
“You could have kept the clothes. You didn’t have to change.”
“It’s okay. The less souvenirs the better.”
The thought I’d never see Nye again was hard enough.
We walked to the foyer. His hand slid on to a panel and the doors opened as if it had two doormen. Stepping outside was like leaving a fairytale. The magic of his world was gone as we walked into the barn. A half-dozen vehicles were lined up. Nye headed for the black pick-up, but I went for the motorcycle.
“Is this an Indian?”
“Yes. I picked it up years ago. When I first became Frozen, we used horses. Guess I never got over the feeling of the wind in my face. It runs like a dream.”
I straddled the soft, leather seat, reached for the handles, and gripped tight.
“Vroom-vroom.”
That made Nye laugh and come up behind me.
“You would need a helmet and longer pants.”
“I’ll dress however you want,” I said as I turned my head and realized he was leaning closer than I had thought. “You wanna dress me?”
A blast of heat hit, followed by a cold gust. I pulled my leg over the seat and sat sidesaddle. He stumbled back and rested against an electric blue muscle car.
“What makes you more nervous? That I like you or that I’m white?”
“You don’t like me. It’s Stockholm syndrome or somethin’.”
“Fine. If it’s some Nightingale Stockholm thing then…then when you leave me, I won’t want to see you again, right?”
“Probably,” he said, looking at his feet. “I only pray you don’t have nightmares. If you do, though…when they stop is when you’ll not want me.”
“What if I don’t have nightmares?”
People do fall in love in a few days. You know when it’s right. I knew he was right for me.
“How could you not?”
Because you’re perfect. Everything I’ve ever wanted. Say it, Kiriana! Say it out loud. What’d be the point?
He went to a set of lockers and pulled out a helmet and a pair of torn up jeans.
“These will be a little long for you, but they should be fine in the waist.”
I pulled them over my shorts and the legs went all the way past my feet. I caught a glimpse of a knife handle on Nye’s belt.
“Nye?”
“Yes.”
“Would you please come here? Don’t be scared.”
“I’m not…what the heck?”
I snatched the knife from his belt and smiled at him.
“I won’t hurt you. I just need to cut these.”
The blade was sharper than I had expected, and the denim melted away like butter.
“You shouldn’t just grab a blade from someone,” he said as I passed the knife back to him.
“I wasn’t sure you’d give it to me. I’m still your prisoner.”
“Have I denied you anything?”
“A trip to the hospital, but I’ve forgiven you for that.” And a roll in your bed, which I haven’t forgiven. Damn those whispers.
“You’re too kind.”
Once astride the bike, I wrapped my arms around his waist and pulled myself to him.
“Are you ready?” he asked, and I realized there were radios in the helmets.
“Are you?”
“Where’s your home?”
“The square.”
His leg pressed down hard as his hand revved the engine. The vibrations between my thighs were not helping quell my desire for him. I clung tighter and my hand went under his jacket. The road whipped past me. My head rested against his back and I realized I wasn’t clinging from fear. As I released my hold a little, I slid my fingers into his belt loops. His left hand slid to hold mine.
“You’re slipping.”
“No, I’m not. Just changing my grip.”
His hand went back to the handlebars. My thumbs latched on to the belt loops, while my fingers fell between his legs. The palms of my hands were firm against his thighs. He liked that, or at least a part of him did.
“Kiri…”
“Yes.”
“What are you doing?”
I pulled myself closer to him.
“Do you mind?”
“I’m…I’m…not sure…what you mean.”
“How does it feel?”
He pulled into a park at the edge of town and parked the bike. We both took off our helmets.
“I’m sorry I pushed. I’ll hold on to your waist, okay?”
He just looked at me and didn’t respond. His eyes didn’t tell me anything about how he was feeling. What he wanted from me.
“Do you want me to walk from here?”
“I’ll never see you after I drop you off. Ever.”
The pain was growing in my gut. Losing him was hitting me hard and fast, knowing I’d never have him hold me, kiss me. I was searching for something in his tone, praying for him.
“I know,” I said softly, looking down at the helmet. “That’s your choice. I wouldn’t turn you away if you came to my door.”
His fingers glided under my hair, and a shiver flowed through me, not from him, but from anticipation. Afraid any shake would make him pull back, I did all I could to hold still. But then my heart started to pound out of my chest because he brought my lips to his. The firmness of his kiss was everything I’d wanted it to be. My helmet fell from my hands, thumped to the ground, and rolled away from us. I clutched his shoulders, pulled myself up so I was straddling him, and wrapped my arms around him. I licked his lips, but he wouldn’t open them for me.
Pulling back, he looked at me. H
is fingers stayed entangled in my hair, while his thumb stroked my cheek. His eyes were filled with sorrow. My head turned into his hand and I could feel the calluses on his palm. He released his grip on my head and the back of his hand caressed my cheek and pushed my hair back. Shivers ran up and down my back. His hand was warm; he wasn’t ashamed of touching me. He curled some of my locks in his finger and tucked them behind my ear.
“I don’t want you to go,” I pleaded softly. “Just one night Nye, could you give me one?”
His fingers glided over my stomach then around to my sides. His eyes were locked on his fingers as he watched them explore my torso.
I was afraid to speak. I wanted him to feel me. I wanted him to know that it was okay, I wouldn’t pull away from him.
He hesitated as he touched my ribcage right below my breast. Then he traveled south. A finger grazed over the bronze button of the jeans. I could feel him trembling.
“I need to get you home.”
“I don’t want to go home.”
I placed my hand lightly over his and could feel the scars on his knuckles. I just wanted to pull his hand to my lips and kiss it.
“You need to go home. We can never be.”
Those words brought a dagger to my heart, piercing it, the blood filling my chest and causing a pressure against my ribs. Our voices were so low, like fighting whispers on the wind. My eyes were filling with tears. If I didn’t do something soon, I’d be a bawling mess.
“Fine. You want to get rid of me, fine. Just fine.”
I crawled off the bike and grabbed my helmet. Angry, I put it on. I jumped on the back of the bike.
“Go. Go, goddamn it!”
Nye stepped on the gas and the bike roared to life. My hands held onto the back of the seat. My fingers locked. Tears streamed down my face as we went through the last three miles of town.
“Kiri…”
“Shut up!”
“I just…”
“Don’t!”
I hoped he couldn’t tell how hard I was crying. Shit. We’re right by the gas station before the square. Whether he knew I was crying or not, I was not going to let him see it.
“Which side of the square?”
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