“It was an accident!” Scarla rushed to Sophie.
Sophie held up her hand, stopping her best friend. “Yeah. But what the both of you did to me wasn’t.”
Chay stepped forward. “Scarla didn’t do anything. I did.”
“Oh, I know it was you who wiped my mind clean.” She pointed at him, her finger trembling from her rage.
“Chay blocked your memories because you couldn’t handle the guilt, Sophie.” Scarla insisted, her hands slashed the air for emphasis.
A sneer twisted Sophie’s lips. “I didn’t know you had a degree in psychology.”
“When we found you, you were hysterical, threatening to kill yourself,” Chay spat, contempt in every word.
“I tried everything to reach you. We didn’t leave your side for a week.” Scarla spoke with her hands as if waving them in Sophie’s face would better get her point across.
A week? A week! “And after seven days, you got bored and scrubbed my mind.”
“That’s not true!” Scarla shouted.
“Sophie,” Chay started, his tone angry, full of censure.
“I was pregnant. I was going to have a baby. You took that from me. I don’t even know if it was a little boy or a little girl. Ozzy killed my baby, and you robbed me from mourning him or her.” Vaguely she was aware of Sam returning to normal and the tension in the room draining away, replaced with remorse and fear.
“You don’t remember how bad you got. You swallowed an entire bottle of pills. I watched them pump your stomach. Then we got you home and you went into the garage and drank antifreeze! I watched them pump your stomach full of charcoal! Do you think that was fun!” Scarla screamed.
“You were determined to kill yourself and we were determined to save you.” Chay’s quiet words seemed louder than Scarla’s screams.
“Save me? Is that what you call it? It’s been two years since I killed Ozzy and Caleb. Two years since I lost my baby.” She ran her hand down her flat stomach, remembered the first flutter of life, and wept. “Because of what you did, I feel like it happened yesterday. Everything is still fresh and raw and oozing. Did either of you consider that? Any of you? Did you think what would happen when I found out?” She glared at the rest of the UnHallowed until tears blurred her vision. “When I remembered?”
“Sophie.” Voice soft, hands open, Chay came to her.
She leapt back, fist ready to beat the shit out of him “Do. Not. Touch. Me. And don’t think you’re helping me, ‘cause you’re not.” A thought struck her. “Oh God, my mom doesn’t know. She thinks Caleb died breaking up a fight. She doesn’t know I killed him. She doesn’t even remember she was going to be a grandmother, does she!” she snarled.
Chay’s hands dropped to his sides. His face a tight mask, no crimson in his gray eyes.
She spun away from Scarla and Chay to glare at the UnHallowed. “All of you knew this and did nothing! Nothing to stop them!” Kush, Riél, and Rimmon had the decency to bow their heads in shame. The rest, their blank faces gave their answer.
Her gaze whipped back to Chay. “Who else’s memory did you erase?”
“All the investigators and the prosecutors. Anyone that could’ve thrown you in jail. I saved you from prison.”
“And sentenced me to a lifetime of guilt.” Chay didn’t get it, he never would.
“So I should’ve let you get locked up for twenty-five years?” He snorted and shook his head, clearly deeming the notion absurd.
Sophie sighed, weary of it all. “A month, two months, even six months, you should’ve let me remember. You should’ve let me mourn.” She stormed around Scarla and Chay, and didn’t stop until she was back in her bedroom. She pulled out the same suitcase she’d arrived with two years ago and dumped what she could inside. Ten minutes later, she yanked open her door to find Scarla and Chay blocking her path.
“Move.”
“Not until you listen, Chay," ground out while Scarla sniffled and wrung her hands.
“No. I have no guarantee you won’t erase everything again. How do I know you haven’t erased something else! You fucked with my mind and I didn’t have a clue until… Wait, I did have a clue.” The itching in her head wasn’t new. “I remembered before and you kept wiping my memory. This isn’t the first time, is it!” she demanded.
Chay closed his eyes, heaved a sigh, and said, “No. It’s not.”
“How many times?” she said between gritted teeth.
“Only two,” Scarla whispered. “But you weren’t ready to remember. It was too painful for you.”
“And now it’s not!” Sophie screamed.
“You’re stronger now. You weren’t then.” Scarla cried, real tears rolling down her cheeks.
“Yeah. I am stronger. Strong enough to tell both of you to go fuck yourselves.” Sophie would like to think she shoved both of them out of her way, but the truth was, they moved.
Dragging her suitcase behind her, she power walked out of Maximum Effort and into the afternoon sun, a single thought crowding her mind.
What now?
~~~~~
“You had no right!” Chay snarled the second he exited the shadows and had the Reaper by the throat. The UnHallowed had cleared a path for him. Not even Sam had a word of protest.
The Reaper shook Chay off as one would brush lint from their clothing. “I have every right. The woman isn’t long for this earth. She will not make the transition with her mind divided. To leave her such would doom her to purgatory; a ghost forever seeking answers to unvoiced questions.”
If Chay had blood in his veins, it would’ve run cold.
“What do you mean, ‘She’s not long for this earth’? What kind of crap are you selling?” Scarla snapped.
Daeden shrugged. “Don’t believe me, the results will be the same.”
Scarla’s sniffles were the only sound in the room. Kush patted her shoulder in an awkward attempt to comfort her. She pushed him off and went to Riél, who wrapped her in his arms and let her cry on his chest.
The Reaper had no reason to lie. Fuck! The hurt in her cornflower blue eyes, it would take millennia for him to forget it. No, longer. He betrayed her. They all did, but it started with him. Faced with her pain, he took the cowards way and removed it, because he hurt seeing her in so much anguish. Shit! He couldn’t have screwed up worse if he’d purposely tried.
But it wasn’t too late. It couldn’t be. Chay turned to the Reaper. “When?” His tone had all the warmth of a tomb.
Daeden gave another nonchalant shrug. “For that, I have no answer. I only know the when after the death has occurred, but I would say soon. Your friend doesn’t have much time.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
So, this is what it looks like up close. The Cruor lay on top of the bar in the basement, casually tossed there like an afterthought. Amaya had no idea who brought it here. No idea who to thank for its presence and curse for their lack of precaution.
She was dumbstruck the first time she saw it on the roof in Vegas, not so much now. Its stunning presentation hadn’t diminished. She guessed shedding blood over the object put things in perspective. Plus, the empty bottles of scotch, whiskey, and vodka lined up like dead soldiers next to the portal to Hell didn’t lend reverence.
Had the binge happened before Siberia? Or after? Not that it mattered. They’d won the day and deserved a toast. Would’ve been nice if they’d waited for her to join in.
That wasn’t fair either. According to her phone, three days had passed since Braile had saved them. She’d spent thirty-six hours unconscious. And woke alone. The entire house was empty. Strange since it was one in the afternoon on a sunny day. Then she remembered the light blasting them and smiled. An image of all the UnHallowed at a Tigers Game, eating hotdogs and drinking flat beer, traipsed through her mind. They’d sit in the upper deck, nosebleed seats where those with wings could stretch them.
Her shoulders flexed and she had a moment of phantom limb syndrome. She’d stared at her unmarred back in t
he bathroom mirror. There wasn’t a single trace she’d had two additional appendages sprouting from her shoulder blades. She never appreciated the wings. They were cumbersome and had a mind of their own. Given time, she would’ve, but it wasn’t to be.
Then she’d noticed her eyes. They were a lovely jade color that she had never really noticed due to the gold thunderbolt dissecting the pupils, and then the rim of gold after her burial mound transformation. Now, that sign of divinity was gone, leaving ordinary human eyes behind.
A strange hollowness gutted her as she stood feet away from the Cruor. Though she did feel heavier, weighted by cement shoes, when it should’ve been the opposite. To be honest, she felt as if she’d lost Braile all over again: First when he left her in Michael’s care. Second, when she discovered his death. Third, when she woke an hour ago, more alone than she’d ever been.
Would’ve been nice to have a feather in remembrance. I shouldn’t complain when I still have the sword. The empyreal sword was the first thing she spotted when she woke. It occupied a corner of her bedroom, seeming to claim the spot for its own. It was better than nothing. She reached for it, and no longer worthy of the privilege, stopped short of touching the weapon.
She walked behind the bar and found enough Bacardi to fill a tumbler. She sipped her drink and ran her hand over the surface of the Cruor. No hesitation. She’d fought and bled and saved the world. The right to touch it belonged to her as much as it did anyone else. Room temperature, which meant it was cool beneath her palm. The metal around the interior, slightly irregular, the symbols carved deep. The interior was warmer and vibrated ever so slightly. It was alive—dormant—but alive.
“I’m hanging you on my bedroom wall where I can keep an eye on you.” Once she found a hammer and some nails. It might be against the Archangel manners handbook to turn this into a decoration, but she didn’t give a shit since none of them could be bothered to help them during the battle against Taige. It was her victory trophy. She’d damn well earned it.
She moved back upstairs, to the main floor, her gaze studiously avoiding the shadowed corners of the house. She hadn’t thought of Bane since she woke. Took a lot of effort, but actions speak louder than words. If he wanted to be here, he would’ve. Her heart ached. Why did the men she loved always leave? Did she have some secret repellant fused to her DNA?
She blinked away the tears. Crying over a man was the last damn straw. She scrubbed her eyes yet one damn drop squeezed past her knuckle. Shit!
Guess Bane’s love went the way of her wings, she thought, moving through the living room.
“What the?” The sight of water peeking through a crack in the heavy curtains in the living room pulled her up short. She yanked back the blinds and opened glass doors that weren’t there three days ago. She stepped onto a patio with a pool that also wasn’t there three days ago. And if that weren’t enough, Bane rising out of the water like Aquaman topped the cake.
Water ran down the ridges and grooves of his chest and abdomen highlighting every muscle on his body. And then she got to his cock.
Ohh.
It was not the first time she’d seen him naked, but this was certainly the most memorable. She licked her lips and absorbed his magnificence.
He came up to her and pulled her into an embrace that should’ve been smothering, instead, she held on as if he was the lifeline on a sinking ship. She chose this moment to realize, she was that sinking ship.
Her sob couldn’t be denied and neither the hiccup that followed or the tears. He picked her up and took her to the water. He sat low on the middle step with her on his lap and the water up to her waist, lapping against them.
He didn’t say anything as she made a fool of herself and cried on his shoulder. “I thought you’d left.”
He peeled off her top.
“I woke and you weren’t there.”
He unsnapped her bra.
“You weren’t anywhere, so I thought you’d left me.”
He tipped her chin up. “Never.” His lips were gentle upon hers, yet laid a claim she couldn’t deny.
Her arms twined around his neck, yet he pulled away. “Do you like your surprise?”
She angled her head and studied the pool and the wrap around deck with an outdoor kitchen. He’d recreated one of the pages she’d dog-eared in Home and Garden, down to the curtain draped pergola lounge area with the fire pit and lighted walkways, lined with perennials.
“I love it.”
“Good.” He lifted her off his lap, give both her nipples a quick suck that left her achy for more, then stripped her soggy sweatpants and panties from her body. Before she could react, Bane had her tossed over his shoulder as he took them into the middle of the pool. Carefully, he eased her into the water. “Can you swim?” he asked while he helped her float on her back.
“No pools in the inner city to learn. Plus, it was never my thing. I dog-eared that page in H and G because it was pretty. I never thought to actually have a pool.”
“Your wings are gone. But diving is as close as you’ll be to a similar sensation of being weightless and free.”
She found her footing and stood in the five feet of water. “That’s why you did this? So I could fly again?”
“Of course. I’d do anything for you. Only you. You are the only one I want. Will ever want. Just. You.”
She had to tell him, couldn’t contain it any longer. “That’s why I love you. I don’t care that you’re an UnHallowed. I don’t care that you’re a demon. From the first moment I met you, you’ve always had my back. Even when you left me, I hated it, but I knew why and I can’t say I wouldn’t have done the same if placed in your position.”
A smirk tweaked his sensual lips and he leaned in for another kiss.
Amaya held him at bay and waved a finger in his face. “But no more leaving me behind. I walk by your side or not at all. Agree?” She held out her hand.
He wrapped his calloused fingers around hers and drew her in for a kiss that split her heart wide open. No lust, just passion layered with unconditional love. Amaya drank it in, absorbed all of it and wanted more, needed more of Bane. For the first time, the hunger she’d carried since her birth had an outlet. The hunger to belong, truly belong to a person, to know that person was their home with all that the word entailed, implied to be true.
For the first time, she didn’t hide what he did to her, or what she wanted from him. She wrapped herself around him, held on as tightly as she could, and let him feel the depth of her love.
His hand glided down her back, leaving goosebumps in its wake, to join his other hand palming her ass. He gripped her curves in his strong hands and had her riding his shaft.
He growled, low and long, and tunneled his fingers through her hair, his fingertips sinking to her scalp, angling her head, taking the kiss deeper. He dominated her mouth with each stroke of his tongue.
She bit his tongue. He nipped her bottom lip.
“Now. I want you now.” She arched her back. The movement thrust her nipples up and he sucked one into his mouth. Each pull of his mouth, each rock of his cock along her clit pushed her closer to the edge. The orgasm crashed upon her in successive waves, each larger than the last until she hung limp in his arms.
Lips pressed to her temple, his murmured words were lost in the post-orgasmic haze. Next thing, her ass was on the edge of the pool and Bane was between her legs with her thighs on his shoulders.
His tongue parted her folds and pressed against her entrance, circled her opening with lazy flicks. Her nails scored his biceps until he lapped her pussy with long, slow licks. She gripped his hair and squeezed her thighs around his head.
“Stop teasing me,” she panted.
He nipped her inner thighs, adding a sharper edge to the pleasure, then kissed the tender flesh. Her core blossomed for him. “I won’t be rushed.” He sucked on her clit, robbing her of speech. Now, he went at her sex, like a man enjoying his last meal, with reverence, savoring each lick, suck, and plunge
of his finger into her drenched depths. She could tell by his tight grip spreading her wide, his groans as he slurped her juices, and his throaty chuckles as she lost her mind.
~~~~~
Bane carried her pliant body to her bedroom. He wanted her on all fours, and that’s exactly what he got; Amaya with her ass in the air, her post-orgasmic pussy wet and open for his cock. She was more than ready for him with all that trembling pink flesh, begging to be fucked. She looked back at him, her eyes glazed from her second orgasm until her gaze dipped to his cock and she licked her lips. She wanted a taste and didn’t that make him harder, nearly derailing his intention to go balls deep inside of her heat. Definitely later she could use him as her personal lollipop. Right now, she was his living wet dream.
Only his.
Something primal rose up within his chest. He needed to claim her, mark her in some indelible way as she’d marked him from the moment he set eyes on her. Not ownership, but a bond they both recognized, accepted. They belonged to each other, completely. Absolutely. Crazy. He wasn’t an animal, yet that’s exactly how she made him feel. Wild. Feral. Free.
“Bane,” she whined and reached between her legs to play with herself.
Hell. He drank in the sight and fisted his throbbing cock. No more thinking!
He rubbed himself against her slickness, coating the tip with her juices. Her fingers twined the sheets as she arched her back and rocked. Inch, by blissful inch, she took him inside her sweet body. His eyes slid closed from the pleasure of watching his length vanish. He gripped her hips, thrust deep, and found home. This is where he belonged, lost in her tightness, loving, fighting, whatever the cards dealt for however long they had.
His balls tightened and he had to fight not to explode. Slow, that’s what he planned. He wanted this session to be a languid exploration of each other’s bodies, wanted to draw out the passion until they were both mindless. Well, he was mindless now.
His hips pistoned, bringing him deeper into her heat. She cried out, said something that got lost in the sheets, and rocked back on each down stroke. Her pussy was a vice around his cock. He drove into her, their skins slapping, their groans harsh. He reached around to strum her clit.
Only You (UnHallowed Series Book 3) Page 20
