The Knight: The Original's Trilogy - Book 3

by Cara Crescent

  Her lips wobbled.

  “I’ll make you dance once a week at least. Make love to you every night.”

  She pressed her lips together to stop their trembling. Everything was going to be fine, damn it.

  “I’ll paint a thousand pictures of you.”

  “And I’ll make you talk about your problems.”

  He rolled his eyes. “You’re such a nag.”

  “Make you meditate with me.”

  “And bossy.”

  “And stick ice cubes in your armpits.”

  He chuckled. “We’ll be awful together.”

  “Terrible.” She nodded. Why did this feel so much like goodbye? Was she just being melancholy? She forced herself to meet his gaze.

  “Don’t cry.”

  “Never.” She sniffed and dashed away a tear.

  “Liar.” He leaned in and stroked his cheek against hers. Kissed her. She framed his face in her hands and slanted her mouth over his, delving her tongue in to taste him.

  Everything else she pushed away, the fear, the sorrow. Instead, she focused on his earthy, masculine scent infusing every breath. The taste of him. The prickle of his whiskers under her hands.

  “I want inside you one more time.”

  She reached between them and undid his belt. The button. The fly. She got up and pulled his jeans as low as she could on his thighs. “I’m sorry. This might be more uncomfortable for you than I thought.”

  “I don’t care.” His gaze raked over her. “Lift your skirt. Show me.”

  A week ago, she wouldn’t have been able to do this. She’d existed with an odd mixture of over-stated pride in being demure and embarrassment over her body. Now . . . .

  She unbuttoned the top of her dress, baring her breasts for him. Cupping them and tweaking her nipples under his gaze. Slowly, she undid the rest of the buttons and flipped the material back behind her.

  His breath hitched. Nostrils flared. “You shaved.”

  “Mm.” She rocked against him so her slit slid against his cock.

  “Jesus, I wish I could taste you.”

  She bit her lip, lowering her hand to dip her fingers in her pussy. She traced her damp finger around her nipple before lifting herself so he could suckle at her breast. “How’s that?”

  “Perfect.” He nipped her. “You’re driving me out of my fucking mind.” His cock twitched against her as if nodding in agreement. She took him in hand, stoking him while his mouth did wicked things at her breasts.

  “Put your feet on my calves.”

  She shifted her weight, wiggling off her flats and the soft pads of her feet flattened across the backs of his legs. A small smile flitted with her lips.

  “What?”

  “Your leg hair tickles.” She leaned forward, her cheek pressed to his and she fitted his cock to her slit.

  The hard, thick length of him filled her as she eased down. The hand on his shoulder slipped up to his neck. She placed the other on his chest, fingers splayed wide. She let her hands drag down his neck, his chest and lifted the hem of his shirt. Slid her hands underneath, and let the hem ride her wrists as she stroked up corrugated abs. Higher, she brushed her thumbs over his nipples. Gaia, she wanted it off.

  He pulled back. “You don’t have to . . . .”

  “What?”

  His gaze slid away. “You don’t have to touch my skin.”

  “Why wouldn’t . . .?” She put her hands back on his face and made him look at her. “Is that why you always tied me up? You didn’t want me to touch you?”

  He tried to look away and she angled herself back into his view.

  “I figured you’d be more likely to keep me in your bed if you didn’t have to feel all the scars.”

  “You make me so mad sometimes.” She hauled the hem up, over his head. The arms of the shirt twisted and pulled tight over his shoulders and across his neck. She dropped her gaze to take in all that hard muscle she’d uncovered.

  Jesus, she was killing him.

  She pressed up, balancing her weight on his calves, before easing down again. “You know what I feel?” She skated her lips over his. “Warm skin pulled taut over the bulge of hard muscle.” She rocked her hips forward. “I feel your strength. I feel you shiver when I move the right way.” Up, all that wet heat stroked over him, squeezing and clenching as if to hold him in. “I feel your chest rise and fall with each breath which means you’re still mine.” Down, her inner muscles fluttered in welcome in time to the shiver that shook the rest of her. “I want to touch you, Jules.” Her breasts dragged across his chest as she rose up. “I need to.” Those sweet nipples of hers jabbed his chest, seeking attention he couldn’t give.

  How the hell was he supposed to leave her? Because he had to. Better to leave her alone in a world that was whole and healthy, than to steal a little more time with her and watch her wilt as the world dissolved into chaos around them.

  He slanted his mouth over hers. Maybe to shut her up before she cracked him wide open. Maybe because he needed to feel every part of her, too. She tasted divine, bitter sweet from the tang of her dinner mixed with her essence. She threaded her fingers in his hair, fisting the too-long locks as she lifted. The slight pain mixed with the drag and flex of her pussy around his cock had him shuddering. “Damn, I like that.”

  “I know.” She nipped his bottom lip. Sucked it into her mouth and swiped her tongue over the sensitive flesh of his inner lip. Her inner muscles clamped around him and pulsed out her orgasm. She wrapped herself around him, shuddering as she held him close.

  “Jesus.” She dragged him with her. His whole body tensed, his muscles straining against his restraints as he went over the edge. He squeezed his eyes shut as pleasure roared through him, making him feel boneless. God, he wished he could hold her. Wished he’d be there to do all the things he promised.

  What a joke. Here he was supposed to be the Destroyer, the soul to end all souls. And all it took was one sweet little butterfly to bring him to his knees.

  “I wish things were different, butterfly. I can’t even begin to tell you how much I wish I’d lived my life different.” He shook his head. “I hate that a decision I made three hundred years ago is making it impossible for me to be with you now.”

  She held onto him tighter, so tight he felt almost certain she could keep him from shattering into a million pieces. “Everything will be fine after the trial. I have faith.”

  Finally, the moment had arrived. Abaddon could choose good or evil. Life or death. Peace or war. To redeem himself or to spit in the goddess’ face again. The fate of two worlds rested on the shoulders of the one soul who hated both humans and angels as well as their offspring.

  The goddess pressed her hand to her belly. Maybe this hadn’t been such a good idea.

  Chapter 35

  Seattle, Washington

  Have faith.

  Julius stared out the car window. Humans lined the street and from beneath the hood, only able to see their colors, it looked like an angry haboob closing in on both sides of the car. The crowd, even the air for several meters up, was a murky brown with streaks of black and white and red. The crowd was passionate, angry and blood-thirsty.

  Harrison cleared his throat. “You’re not acting right, Crowley. What the hell did Lilith and Trina say to you last night?”

  He shook his head. “Not much of anything.” Just told me I needed to sacrifice myself to end a curse, which was a curse itself.

  Scott lifted a brown book off the seat next to him. “My father used to tell me whenever things got dark, there was always an answer in here.” He held the book out. The thing’s aura didn’t look much healthier than the crowd outside. When Julius didn’t move to take it, he gave it a little shake. “Even if there’s nothing in here for you, it might make the jury go easier if they see you holding it.”

  Julius scoffed. “No fucking book is going to change their minds.”

  “It’s a holy book.”

  “Yeah, well, in my experien
ce there’s not much difference between what’s holy and what’s cursed—they both cause blood and ash to be spilled.”

  “You’re right, he’s not himself today.” Scott tucked the book back into the bag. “Look, son, whatever you’re thinking of doing, get it out of your head.”

  Julius snorted. “The thing about vampires is that they are notorious for their survival instincts. We can’t commit suicide, Mason.”

  Except there was a vast ocean of difference between suicide and sacrifice.

  The car pulled to a stop. No one moved.

  Those were not peaceful protestors outside the car. That was a mob. The slightest perceived infringement would send them over the edge. Jesus. Now he wasn’t just worried for himself. He turned to the two males sitting across from him. Their auras rippled and flexed.

  Yeah, they damn well knew this wasn’t going to end well. Shit, he hadn’t saved their asses yesterday so they could be dust today.

  Harrison shook his head. “This is going to be a pain in the ass.”

  “You just stick tight between me and Harrison,” Scott advised. “We’ll get you up to the courthouse and Trina and Lilith will take care of the rest.” He leaned over and opened the car door.

  The noise from the crowd became deafening. The car jostled as Scott and Harry got out. Maybe they spoke to him, but all he heard was the crowd and their cries for his ash.

  “We’ve gotta keep moving,” Scott yelled into the car. “It’s not safe.”

  Julius took a deep breath, forcing himself to battle the fear threatening to overwhelm him and slid across the back seat. He didn’t think it was possible, but as he exited the car and stood, the volume of the crowd grew. Its animosity washed over him, and for a moment he froze. It was like standing alone on a sandbar facing a tsunami. Any moment now they would crash down on him, an unstoppable force whose sole purpose was his destruction. He couldn’t fight them and they were unforgiving and single-minded in their purpose.

  This is what they wanted him to sacrifice himself for? These people?

  Have faith.

  He shook his head. Not for them. For Kat. For Scott and Harrison and the others who would support Kat when he was gone.

  “Keep moving.” Scott took hold of his arm and propelled him forward.

  Give in gracefully. Better to ensure Kat’s survival and peace among the races than try to fight them all. All he’d do is taint Kat’s memories of him.

  Ahead, the crowd jostled Harry as he tried to clear a path for Julius and Scott. The crowd was going to kill them, too, if given half a chance. Julius’ breathing became even shallower. He was going to lose his shit soon. His survival instinct was screaming for him to fight and now his loyalty to those he cared for was screaming the same.

  He had to end this before the people he was doing it for got hurt.

  “Harrison,” Julius shouted. He waited until Harrison looked back. “I’m sorry.”

  Harrison shook his head. The colors of his aura rippled, dimmed, and flared bright as his eyes widened.

  Julius rammed his shoulder into Scott, launching him into the crowd. He charged Harry, throwing his shoulder into Harry’s stomach and bucking him into the now frenzied mob. With his handlers out of harm’s way, the people overtook the remaining guards.

  Hands grabbed. Clawed. Punched. Julius’ instincts overwhelmed him and he fought back. It was a losing battle. He knew it would be, for every human he put down, ten more took his place. It was an endless sea of enemies.

  He clawed at the hood, trying to find the closure, wanting to feel air on his face one last time. The crowd pounded him and he was thrown to the ground.

  “Don’t let him get the hood off!” someone screamed.

  Julius found the zipper but the damn thing caught in his hair and he couldn’t force it open enough to squeeze through, not being pushed around and punched like he was.

  Suddenly he was airborne. Many hands held him aloft as he rode the crowd. He twisted and bucked, his survival instinct forcing him to try to gain his freedom.

  He heard Scott nearby over the screams of the crowd demanding his release.

  “Ash, ash, ash,” the people shouted.

  A rope tightened around one of his ankles and pulled him upside down above the mob. They were throwing things at him as he hung there and all he could do was wait.

  Kat had changed Abaddon. He’d chosen to sacrifice himself to avoid war. He chose not to use his gifts as the destroyer, but instead allowed the humans to abuse him. He’d chosen sacrifice, which satisfied her curse. Now the question was, would her other creations allow it?

  The goddess leaned forward.

  Chapter 36

  Kat stared out at the frenzied mob, wishing she could block out their calls for ash. They had him hanging by one foot from the rope of a flagpole. Hauling him higher. He wasn’t going to make it into the courthouse for trial.

  “What are they trying to do?”

  She turned and searched the faces behind her, looking for an ally. The Scenter was here. And Senator Dorset. There were militarized police and other humans standing guard around the raised dais. Lilith was shouting at Dorset and . . . Trina. Trina’s gaze met hers. Her eyes widened and she came over.

  Kat motioned to the crowd. “What are they doing?”

  “Kat, you shouldn’t have come.” She shook her head. “If we step in and save him, all hell is going to break loose. We have to let the human police get him out of there.”

  She shook her head. “But they won’t. They don’t care—”

  “Look.” Trina turned her around and there were police pushing through the crowd. Some volleyed tear gas into the crowd to get them to back up.

  An outraged roar ran through the crowd, growing in volume.

  “Where’re Harrison and Scott?”

  Trina came to stand next to her as they scanned the crowd. “Shit.” She turned to address Senator Dorset. “Get our men out of there.”

  “What, your daemons?”

  “Two DDC agents, one of whom is human. I knew better than to trust you. Your man’s gonna die out there, too, if you don’t do something.”

  “Who?”

  Trina smiled. It wasn’t the warm smile of friendship, but one that sent chills down Kat’s spine. “Scott Mason. How do you think your constituents will react to your incompetence?”

  Dorset’s lips thinned and he waved over two cops in full assault gear. “Go get Mason out of there.”

  “Forget it. My men will get both of them out.” Trina signaled to Duncan and James, who took off, vaulting over the railing and into the crowd.

  Both, Kat thought. She said both. Not all three. “He was promised a trial.”

  Trina turned and met her gaze. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears and that more than anything else brought home what was about to happen. How far out of their hands Julius’ fate was.

  “It’s been obvious from the start he’d never make it there.” She covered her eyes with her hand. “I’m sorry, Kat. You weren’t supposed to be here. Tonight would end the same no matter what we did. This isn’t just about the humans. He has to satisfy the goddess’ curse. He has to sacrifice himself to gain peace. Now I have to make sure we don’t lose anyone else.”

  She turned to Lilith, but she was arguing with Dorset. Trina moved away, shouting orders to the coven.

  Her gaze searched the others, looking for anyone else who could help. Her gaze lit on the Scenter. The woman was grinning. She must have heard everything. She was enjoying this.

  All the anger and the hurt came bubbling to the surface. Kat took the three steps that brought her in front of the Scenter. “You think this is funny?”

  “I’ve never been so entertained.”

  Kat pulled back her arm and let it fly. She hit the bitch right in the nose, a satisfying crack punctuating the punch. “That’s funny.”

  The Scenter lunged for her, but one of the cops grabbed her, preventing the attack.

  Someone in the crowd che
ered and she turned to the scene below. Why wasn’t Julius fighting? He embodied The Hanged Man—dangling from one foot, the other leg crossed behind his knee, arms hanging, hooded. Sacrificing himself so there could be a chance of peace between humans and daemons.

  “Why did they leave the hood on?”

  No one heard her. The crowd was screaming, throwing things at Julius as they hoisted him higher. The coven was spreading out, surrounding the mob below.

  She covered her lips with a trembling hand. He hated the hood. It made him feel claustrophobic. Why didn’t he at least take off his hood?

  Something zipped past overhead and pinged off the flagpole Julius hung from before falling into the crowd. Someone held the object up and a cheer rang out.

  Arrows. She turned and looked up. The shooter could be anywhere above them. What sick psychopath came up with arrows? Someone who knew a daemon could survive bullets, but not wood.

  Julius had saved them, damn it. He’d sacrificed himself for them all yesterday but none of the humans knew that. He’d go down in their history as a monster.

  Hooded.

  While they took pot shots at him.

  “Kat, come on.” Lilith put her arm around her shoulders. “You don’t need to see this.”

  “No!” She jerked away. “I’m not leaving. I don’t want him to be alone.” Not here with all these people chanting for his ash and no one on his side.

  Someone shoved against them and she almost went over the edge of the dais.

  “Back off!” Lilith tightened her grip around her. “Trina!”

  Kat tried to pry loose. “Take the hood off, Lilith. Please. I know you can.”

  Lilith’s gaze remained on Julius. “Trina!”

  Another arrow zipped past, followed by three more. Her breath caught. Shuddered out when they flew past Julius.

  “The hood, Lilith. Magic it off.”

  Why was Lilith ignoring her? It was a simple spell. He hated the damned thing. He shouldn’t have to die with it on. She didn’t know why she was so focused on that. They were going to shoot him. Kill him. All she could think of was how he shouldn’t have to wear that fucking hood. “They should have to look at him. See him.” She needed to see him.