“Okay.” I move my violin to my other hand, somehow managing to hold it and the shopping bag together, and reach for the boy’s hand with my now-free one. “Let’s go find your parents.”
He nods and walks with me down the road—it’s narrower than I thought at first, more of an alley than a street. It’s colder in here, and darker, and I shiver as a strong wind blows by.
I hesitate and glance over my shoulder. Sofia’s friends told me to stay on the main street. But this boy needs help. Everyone else is too busy trying to get in their last bit of shopping before the stores close, so if I don’t help him, no one will. I stand straighter and continue forward, following him around the corner.
The moment I turn the corner, someone runs at me from behind and wraps their arms around me, holding a knife to my neck. His tattoos are red.
His rancid breath is hot against my face as he says, “Scream and I’ll slit your throat.”
Chapter Nineteen
Someone else—a woman who’s also a Red—runs forward and scoops the boy up in her arms. She has the same small build and soulful eyes as he does. She must be his mother. She also holds a knife, and she watches me closely, as if she’s preparing to attack if I make one small move.
“I don’t mean him any harm,” I say, hoping to reason with them. “I was just helping him find his parents. That’s all. I was trying to help him. Let me go. Please.” My eyes fill with tears, my voice shaking as I speak.
“Stupid, stupid girl,” the man mutters in my ear. “Drop your bags and empty your pockets. Now.”
I drop the shopping bag and my violin to the ground. My heart breaks as the case hits the pavement.
“Your purse, too,” the man says. “And any other coins you have hidden in your pockets. Don’t try to hide anything from me—because I’m going to check, and if you hold anything back, I promise that pretty little Gold face of yours that you’ll be sorry.”
I move to drop my purse to the ground, but before I can, someone else rushes into the alley—he moves so quickly that I can barely make out his features. All I know is that in seconds, the knife is no longer pressed against my skin, and the man and woman are splayed on the pavement, blood gushing from their necks and forming puddles around their twitching bodies. Seconds later, they’re still.
A rivulet of blood creeps closer to my violin, and I pick up both it and the shopping bag with my gown. The boy is huddled over his mom’s body, crying and begging her to wake up.
I look over at the man who did this—he’s standing against the wall of the alley, his arms crossed and a satisfied smirk on his lips. I recognize him instantly—the mysterious stranger who walked me home from brunch the first day I was here.
“You killed them.” I clench the bags to my sides, unable to keep the anger from my tone. “You murdered that boy’s parents right in front of him.”
He flips the knife in his hand and slips it into his belt. “All that trouble and I don’t even get a thank you?” he asks.
“You killed them,” I repeat. “They just needed money, and you took their lives.”
“Apparently, you need some education about how things work in the city,” he says. “Because you don’t think they were going to let you go after you handed over your precious coins, do you?”
I press my lips together, because yes, that’s exactly what I thought.
“You did think they were going to let you go.” His eyes twinkle with amusement. “Didn’t you?”
“Of course,” I say. “They just wanted money. Why wouldn’t they let me go after getting it?”
He peels himself away from the wall and walks toward me, his ice-blue eyes capturing me in his gaze. “Because, Adriana,” he starts, and I can’t stop the warm feeling that shoots up my chest at the realization that he remembers my name. “You’ve seen their faces. You know who they are. If you report them… they’d be killed for stealing from a Gold. Once they had everything they needed from you, they would have slit your throat and left you in this alley to rot—at least until the stench got so strong that someone discovered what remained of your corpse. Now they’re the ones who will rot in this alley—not you. So, you see, you should be thanking me.”
He’s standing so close that I can barely think. I can barely breathe. All I can feel is my heart pounding in my chest, beating so hard that I fear it might burst if it speeds up anymore.
He glances away from me to look at the child, who’s still crying over the body of his mother. “Go,” he tells him. “And make sure to remind your people what happens when a Red tries to steal from a Gold.”
The boy nods and runs away, gone in an instant.
I hold my hand to my neck, hit with the realization that I nearly died. I tried to help someone and almost died for it. If I had died, I would have failed my mission. I would have been cast from Heaven.
This man—whose name I still don’t know—he saved my life.
“What’s your name?” I ask. “This is the second time we’ve met… and I never got your name.”
His eyes flash with surprise, and he takes a step back, as if I said something wrong. “You don’t know?” he finally asks.
“No.” I laugh, although I feel guilty about it a second later, since the bodies of my attackers are still sprawled around us. This isn’t a time for merriment. “You never told me your name. How would I know?”
“No,” he muses. “I suppose I didn’t.”
“Well…” I prod, but then I wonder—is there a reason why he’s keeping his name secret? His jacket covers his tattoos, and he has incredible fighting skills. He must have gone through intensive training to learn how to fight like that.
Is he some kind of vigilante? Perhaps even a witch, able to resist the curse, who rescues people in need?
“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” I say. “Although, you did save my life. I would at least like to know your name.”
“Matthew,” he says suddenly. “My name is Matthew.”
“Well, thank you, Matthew,” I say. “For saving my life.”
I adjust my bags, and Matthew’s eyes flicker to the one with the dress.
“Is that for the ball?” he asks.
“It is,” I say. “Are you going as well?”
He raises an eyebrow. “Are you asking me to the ball?”
“No!” I say, and I widen my eyes, realizing how horrible that sounded. Especially because I like the idea of possibly going with him. We may have only met twice—and both times in strange situations—but around Matthew, I feel… safe. “I mean, do you want me to ask you?” I continue. “Because if you do, then I suppose we could go together, although I think my cousin might be upset because she thinks I’m going in a group with her…” I trail off, realizing I’m babbling. How embarrassing.
“I’m sorry,” he says with a smirk. “I didn’t mean to get you excited. I already have a date.”
“Oh,” I say, my heart dropping. “Sorry. Of course you do.”
“No need to apologize,” he says. “If I didn’t have a date already, then you better believe I would go with you. I’m sure you’ll look beautiful in that dress.”
“Thank you,” I say, and my cheeks flush again. He must think I’m ridiculous. “And thank you again—for saving me. I don’t know how you knew I was here, but I’m in your debt.”
“It’s wasn’t difficult to spot you being led into that alley,” he says. “Most Golds don’t fall for tricks like that from Reds anymore. But when I saw it was you, I knew I had to do something.”
“Well, that was very generous of you,” I say. “To risk your life like that. I doubt many others would do the same.”
“I also doubt many others are as talented with a knife as I am.” He reaches for his knife, throwing it high in the air and catching it by the handle.
“True,” I say, and then I look around, realizing we’ve been casually standing here, chatting in this alley. Where two people lay dead. “What’s going to happen to them?”
I ask, motioning to the corpses.
“Someone will eventually find them,” he says. “Just like they would have found you, if those thieves had gotten their way.”
I shiver at the reminder that I could be dead in this alley instead of them—my soul possibly already condemned to fall from Heaven.
“Well… thank you again,” I say, although I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to thank him enough. “Like I said, I’m in your debt.”
“There’s no need for that.” He waves away my words. “Saving you was… my pleasure.”
He watches me intensely, his eyes studying my face—as if he’s searching for something in my features. My blood stills under his gaze, and I feel lightheaded and dizzy. I move closer to him, and he does the same, until we’re standing only inches apart. His eyes travel down to my lips, and my heart races with the sudden realization that he’s going to kiss me.
What surprises me more is that I want him to kiss me.
Somehow, we move closer together. Before I know what’s happening, his lips are on mine. I fall into him, my heart racing, wanting more. His lips are warm, and this feels so right.
But the kiss is short—sweet—and his fingers trail against my cheek, as if he’s memorizing every inch of my face.
I open my eyes, surprised by the sadness in his gaze. He’s looking at me as if this is the last time he’ll ever see me. But why? I don’t know what this is between us, but it feels like it’s only the beginning.
There’s so much I want to ask him. But then my foot bumps into something—the corpse of the man who tried to rob me—and I’m yanked back to reality. Where we’re standing in an alley where two people just died.
“My cousin’s probably getting worried about me,” I realize. “I’ve been gone for so long…”
“Of course,” he says. “I’ll walk you back to the street, where you’ll be safe.”
“Thank you,” I say for what feels like the millionth time today, and I allow him to lead me toward the street that’s bright with lights and bustling with determined shoppers. “We will see each other again,” I ask once we’re back to the street. “Won’t we?”
He doesn’t answer.
When I glance over at him to see why, he’s not there. I whip my head around, searching for him, but I can’t find him anywhere. He’s gone.
Why did he disappear? How did he even get away that quickly? And more importantly… what’s he hiding from me?
I might have thought he was just a figment of my imagination. But imaginary people can’t save others from murdering thieves. He’s real. And after that kiss—after seeing the way he looked at me—forgetting him will be impossible.
At least I know he’ll be at that ball.
And when we’re both there, I’ll finally discover who the mysterious Matthew is once and for all.
Chapter Twenty
Teresa and Marco are sitting in the living room when I get back. In the time that I’ve lived here, I’ve never once seen them hang out in this room. Which I suspect means one thing—they’re waiting for me.
They’re sitting on opposite sides of the couch, not looking at each other. Teresa has her arms crossed in front of her chest, her eyes angry. Marco seems calmer, and he sits up straighter when I come in. Something’s definitely up.
“Hi.” I look back and forth between them as I close the front door. “What’s going on?”
“Marco has a plan about how you can get access to the Watchtower,” Teresa says, her voice soft and eerily calm. “Sit down.”
I place the violin and bag with my dress on the ground and do as she asked.
“What’s your plan?” I direct the question toward Marco.
“After the announcement this morning about the upcoming ball, I had an idea,” he starts.
“A ridiculous idea.” Teresa scoffs. “There’s no way it’ll work.”
“Even if it’s ridiculous, I still want to hear it,” I say, and then return my focus to Marco.
“As I was saying,” he continues. “Next week, Ezekiel is holding the ball where he’ll choose ten new concubines to live with him in the Watchtower for a year. Obviously, this ball is a good chance for you to meet him. As Golds who live in the city, it’s customary for us to go, so we’ll all be attending regardless. But the ball is only for one night. We need you to have access to the Watchtower every night. So I started thinking—what if you didn’t attend as a guest? What if you auditioned to be a concubine?”
“What?” I gasp, unsure I understood correctly. “You want me to be one of Ezekiel’s concubines?” I say the word in disgust, a shiver running down my spine at the prospect.
“See?” Teresa glares at Marco. “She thinks it’s as ridiculous as I do.”
“No.” I shake my head. “I mean… on one level, it makes sense. I’ll have access to Ezekiel that I wouldn’t have otherwise. But isn’t he known for killing his concubines? Won’t I just be putting myself in danger?”
“He doesn’t kill every concubine,” Marco says. “The ones he likes survive.”
“He’s not going to like me,” I say. “I’m here to kill him.”
“Which is why you’ll have to hide that from him until you figure out exactly where the Flaming Sword is and devise a plan to end him.”
I press my lips together, saying nothing. The thought of putting myself in such proximity to Ezekiel terrifies me. If he finds out who I am before I’m able to kill him, I’ll fail my mission for sure.
But I also see Marco’s point. That sword is hidden in the Watchtower. I’ll have a much better chance of locating it if I live in the Watchtower myself.
Marco must be able to tell that I’m considering his idea, because he continues. “You’ll need to get Ezekiel to trust you,” he says. “It’s been done before, by previous concubines who survived. Sometimes, it seemed like Ezekiel even cared for them.”
“Demons aren’t capable of love,” I tell him. “Lust, yes. Obsession, perhaps. But not love. A creature that evil can’t truly experience love.”
“Perhaps not,” he says. “It would explain why Ezekiel has never found a queen. But you don’t need him to love you. You just need him to trust you. If he trusts you, he’ll be more likely to reveal where he keeps the sword. Once you figure that out, come to Teresa and me. We’ll figure out what to do next from there.”
“It’s not a bad first step,” I say. “Assuming, of course, that Ezekiel doesn’t kill me first.”
“You’re here to kill him,” Marco says. “There’s no getting around the danger that accompanies such a mission.”
“True,” I say.
“You’re not actually considering this?” Teresa stares at me, her eyes wide.
“Of course I’m considering it,” I tell her. “It’s the most solid plan any of us have had so far. Unless you’ve thought of something better?”
“I don’t think you understand,” Teresa says. “When Ezekiel kills his concubines… it’s brutal. Sometimes it’s for the simplest things. If he doesn’t like something one of them does, he snaps his fingers and incinerates them on the spot. You’ll be putting yourself in harm’s way every single day. Not just yourself—you’ll be putting Adriana in harm’s way. I will not let my sister be murdered because her body was the one chosen for you to possess. No way. Not happening.”
“I’m sorry,” I tell her, because I truly am. I don’t want her to lose her sister either. Just like I don’t want to fall from Heaven if I fail. “But what if I wasn’t in Adriana’s body? Then would you think the plan was a good one?”
“I don’t know.” Teresa shrugs. “But it’s irrelevant, because you are in her body. Unless something happened and you’ve been given permission to be released?”
“No,” I say. “And you know that it’s in my best interest to protect her. But this plan is the best we have right now.”
“Perhaps,” Teresa says. “But no one will believe that you’re serious about auditioning.”
“Why’s that?” I ask.<
br />
“Because no Gold has auditioned to be a concubine since Ezekiel’s original selection.”
Chapter Twenty-One
“How’s that possible?” I look to Marco for confirmation, because he seems to be the one who’s able to think more logically.
“It’s true,” he says. “Like we told you earlier, the main reason that women audition is because it’s the only way for them to rise in status. If they’re already a Gold, why would they bother?”
“Because they want to be chosen as queen?” I ask.
“People accepted long ago that Ezekiel wasn’t going to choose a queen,” Teresa says. “Golds auditioned in the original selection because they wanted to be royalty—being the queen was the only rank higher than being a Gold. But he killed every single one of them. After seeing the bloodbath of the concubines, no other Golds have taken the risk. Why would they, when we already live a life of luxury and comfort?”
“So if I audition, it will cause quite the stir,” I say.
“That’s an understatement,” Teresa says. “You’ll be singled out from the start. If you’re chosen, you’ll stand out even more—which I worry will make it even more likely that you’ll be killed.”
“Or it could work to her advantage,” Marco points out. “Ezekiel loves a good show. It would hardly be interesting if he killed the only Gold to audition in half a century.”
“If she gets chosen,” Teresa shoots back. “Over a hundred girls auditioned last time, and only ten of them are selected. The odds are not in our favor.”
“She’ll get chosen.” Marco snorts. “Adriana’s beautiful—more beautiful than many of the girls Ezekiel’s chosen in the past. But most importantly, she’s a Gold. I can’t imagine him not being intrigued by a Gold auditioning to be a concubine.”
Demon Kissed (Cursed Angel Collection) Page 6
