Only One I'll Have (UnHallowed Series Book 4)

by Tmonique Stephens

  “Um, what the hell what?” Pilar turned to the mirrors. Her lipstick was smudged, and a few wisps of hair had escaped. Not too bad considering how flustered she truly was. A nest of butterflies had taken flight inside her stomach at first sight of the behemoth of a man called Kushiél. What kind of name was that? European? Asian? Whatever, it was exotic. Kushiél. How would it roll off her tongue? How would he roll off her tongue?

  All of this traveled through her brain as she applied a fresh coat of lipstick and smoothed her hair. Behind her, Amaya folded her arms and tapped an angry toe to a tune only she could hear. Pilar had no idea what set Amaya off. Actually, she did, but didn’t care. Offering Kushiél a job was good business, and she wouldn’t run her business on someone else’s morality, even if Amaya was her bestie.

  Finished touching up her lipstick and hair, she faced Amaya. “Girl, you’re too cute. I knew once you found the right guy you’d put more effort into dressing up. And that guy of yours, Bane, is a hot one.” Not as hot as Kushiél. “So is your husband, Dina, right?”

  Dina grinned and nodded as she leaned her hip against a sink. Pilar didn’t go around comparing herself to other women, because there weren’t many who could compare, it was a cattiness she didn’t subscribe to, often. Dina was seriously beautiful with a laidback casualness most women couldn’t achieve. It was refreshing to be around someone who was obviously comfortable in their own skin, just like her and Amaya. “So, are the guys really brothers? ‘Cause they are not alike.” She washed her hands.

  A stall opened. Conversation hit pause as the woman washed and dried her hands, then left. Dina locked the door behind her.

  “What’s the business proposition?” Amaya gritted between clenched teeth.

  No reason not to spill. It wasn’t a national secret. “I think he’d make a great product model.”

  “Product model?” Dina moved back into her position by the sink.

  “Yeah.” Pilar demonstrated with a pantomime. “He holds up one of my products, a photographer takes a couple of pics, we put it in an ad on my website and some print ads, and I make some money. See, nothing nefarious.” She flicked her wrist and gave a casual shrug.

  “I invited you here to meet my family and to network, rub elbows with the mayor and a few council members, not to recruit Bane’s brother to be half naked in one of your adult catalogs.” Amaya glared.

  Pilar threw up her hands, more than a little annoyed. “I didn’t know he was your future brother-in-law when I made the offer, Amaya. I mean really, how was I supposed to know?”

  “So, you walk into any place, see a half-attractive guy, and make him an offer?” Amaya snapped.

  Pilar took offense and dropped a fist on her hip. “Half attractive? Are you two blind? I know when you fall in love you’re only supposed to have eyes for that guy but really, ladies. Kushiél is the hottest thing on two legs I’ve seen in a very long time. Especially with that wicked scar and those tattoos.” And the body. Black pants molded to hard thighs. Crisp white shirt was a dramatic contrast to the tailored ebony jacket defining impossibly broad shoulders. The open collar hinted at a chest she wanted to pour warm caramel on and lick off at her leisure. His hair, shaved on both sides, yet loose with those hot as fuck tatts on either side. Whew! She fanned herself while Dina broke into a shit-eating grin and Amaya fumed. “Fine. Didn’t mean to rock the boat. I’ll rescind the offer.” But if he wants to do me—I mean it—all bets are off.

  Amaya sighed, and she came closer. “I don’t mean to be a bitch, b—” The lights went dark.

  “Really! A government building and they can’t pay the electric bill,” Pilar snapped, a scream a second away. She hated the dark. Hated. It.

  “Pilar, don’t move. Stay where you are,” Amaya ordered.

  “Where the hell would I go?” Pilar felt around the counter for her purse, panic nipping at her. Breathe and find your phone! Finally, her hand brushed against it.

  Amaya whispered, “Dina.”

  “I see it,” Dina replied.

  See what? The darkness was absolute. Fingerprint ID unlocked Pilar’s screen to a watercolor pattern screensaver that had enough light to separate the darkness and ease the tightness in her chest. Now, if she could find her flashlight app. She swiped her finger twice to find the correct screen.

  Amaya grabbed her arm and yanked her deeper into the bathroom. She stumbled, couldn’t help it in the high heels, and twisted her ankle. Annoyed, she was about to yell at Amaya, except the person digging their fingers into her skin couldn’t be her when last she saw, Amaya was positioned on the opposite side of the room, near the exit.

  “Let her go!” Amaya commanded.

  If Amaya wasn’t holding her… Pilar opened the app, flooding the bathroom with a wedge of bright light and twisted around.

  Fear choked off her scream. Terror wiped Pilar’s mind clean for precious seconds while she tried to process the monster holding her. It appeared human, but it was wrong, very wrong. The eyes were too far apart, the nose one flat slit, the chest concave instead of convex, as if it had no ribs. The skin was wet and deep blue as if permanently bruised. It was her height and thin with no muscles to speak of. If that were the case, why couldn’t she pull free? What she saw couldn’t be real. The darkness had come alive and seethed in undulating waves. It wasn’t real, couldn’t be.

  Its jaw slid open and two rows of teeth protruded. Her phone clattered to the tile and a scream ripped from her throat, her cry mingling with others coming from outside the bathroom.

  “I said, let her go!” Amaya crouched as if prepared to fight, her friend Dina was next to her with a sword glinting in the light cast from Pilar’s phone.

  Where did she get a sword? The random thought skittered across Pilar’s brain.

  An arm banded around her neck and yanked her into something squishy. The thing molded to her shape. Vomit crawled up her throat. She was gonna blow, which wouldn’t free her from this nightmare because this couldn’t be real.

  “We are not alone, demon, and you will not leave here alive.” Dina edged closer, her sword leading the way. Screams penetrated the bathroom walls. The building shuddered as if from a massive blow. Amaya and Dina shared a quick glance and refocused on the thing behind Pilar.

  “I will release her in exchange for the both of you.” Its voice was wet and reedy as if spoken through a damp filter. And dear Lord, the smell of it. A pinpoint of light appeared over the last stall and quickly expanded into a spinning, rainbow orb. It was beautiful, throwing off a kaleidoscope of color in the dark bathroom, which shouldn’t have been possible, she reasoned, now fixated on the shiny object instead of the monster at her back. Lulled, she sagged into its embrace, her muscles no longer under her control.

  Run, Amaya! Get away!

  Something smashed into the bathroom wall. Mirrors, sinks, brick, and mortar, all caved inward. The room divided into two sections. Amaya and Dina in one section with the exit, Pilar cut off in the other.

  “Can’t return emptyhanded,” it whispered in her ear and left spittle behind. She struggled to break free, at least she thought she did. In her mind, she was kicking ass, going down swinging, just how she imagined she would if anyone had the audacity to mess with her. Because she was unfuckable.

  But she wasn’t. This thing at her back was gonna take her somewhere and kill her. This was how she was gonna die brutally. She had no doubt. The creature didn’t conjure images of kindness and mercy. And her body… He’d leave it in some ditch, never to be found.

  She wasn’t religious, but as the saying went, “There are no atheists in a foxhole.”

  “God, give me strength,” she murmured, and found the strength she needed to raise her foot and reach for her heel. A five-inch weapon. Her favorite pair of Saint Laurents. She clutched it, brought it up fast, and struck hard at the arm around her throat.

  Suddenly, she was free with nowhere to go. She scrambled beneath half a sink and clung to the plumbing, her shoe still clutched in h
er fist. Water spewed from the wrecked toilets and anything else with a pipe. Three feet of it surrounded her and a monster stood in front of her. Nothing else could describe it. It was seven feet of a gelatinous mass with tentacles lining the sides. Every alien abduction movie she’d seen streamed through her mind. Caught in IMDB hell, she lost the power to scream.

  A tentacle wrapped around her ankle, cold and clammy on her bare skin, and suddenly, she found her voice. She screamed and kicked. That didn’t stop her bare foot from sinking into its soft body. The tentacle tightened, digging into her flesh.

  The rainbow orb opened and a man in a suit leaned out. “That’s not one of them.”

  The tentacle thing chirped out a sound and tugged on her leg.

  “I don’t care if she was with them. She’s not one of them!”

  It chirped again, some gibberish bullshit she couldn’t understand, the tone in the earsplitting range. Flinching from the pain, she held onto the pipe and covered one ear with her shoulder, the other with the hand holding her shoe.

  “All right, but you’re telling Aiden. Toss her into the orb.”

  “No! I’m nobody. You don’t want me!” Against her will, the tentacle thing dragged her from under the sink. She held onto the pipe, but not for long. Her strength gave out. Dragged through the water, she nearly drowned. Now, she was hung upside down like a side of beef. “Don’t do this! Please don’t do this!”

  “Shut up or I’ll sew your lips together.” Orb guy sneered.

  Chances were she was dead either way, so… “Fuck you.” She said a silent thank you to her trainer for the five-minute planks he forced on her four days a week, and brought herself up to eyeball the bastard that captured her.

  Yep, it was every nightmare come true, but she was pissed and didn’t have time to scream. She planted nine hundred dollars’ worth of her designer heel into what resembled an eye socket. Its blood splattered on her hand, burning her skin. She dug it in deeper. It let out something that sounded like a scream and dropped her. Ass first, she landed in water. Tentacles reached for her again, she swiped at them.

  “Hurry it up! We can’t hold the UnHallowed off much longer!” Orb guy clung to the edge of the orb.

  Pilar scrabbled backward as the creature lumbered toward her.

  “I’m not going with you! Kill me here, ‘cause I’m not leaving with you!”

  “Fine. Kill her, let’s get out of here,” orb guy ordered.

  To her right, the bathroom wall crumbled. She covered her head and ducked beneath the sink again, praying a chunk of cement brained it. Instead, a body hurdled through the opening and landed with a bone-rattling thud. She caught the glint of a sword vanishing inside the belly of the nightmare. The sword yanked free and the squishy mass was flung into the rear wall. The orb vanished, throwing the entire room into the inky darkness.

  “Are you hurt?”

  The darkness was absolute, yet she knew that husky, raspy voice. “I-I don’t think so.” Her hand ached from where the tentacle thing’s blood splashed on it. That wouldn’t stop her from clawing her way out of here.

  “Are you sure?” he commanded.

  “How the fuck would I know? Now get me out of here before I drown.” The water was up to her neck.

  An arm circled her waist, and another hooked her legs. He scooped her out of the water and ordered her to, “Hold on.”

  “What’s happening? What’s going on?” She punched his shoulder. She may as well have punched a mountain. “Kushiél, you tell me right now, what the fuck are you doing? How are you going to get us out of here?”

  “How do you know it’s me when you can’t see?”

  “Your voice.” I’d know it anywhere.

  He grunted, mumbled something under his breath and ordered, “Duck your head.”

  She obeyed and buried her head in his chest, because she wanted to live, desperately. He moved fast and slammed into something, the rear wall she suspected from the impact transferred from him to her. He wasn’t hitting a wall. They were hitting a wall, first one, then another.

  The impact was sharp, the shockwave reverberated through his body into her, though not nearly as vicious as the first. He didn’t even flinch. Rubble pelted her, pinged off her head, along with a cloud of dust choking her lungs. She dug deeper into his chest, melding with him. It was then she noticed her cheek rested on his bare skin and not a linen shirt. He was warm and alive, more alive than anything, anyone she’d ever met. And by force of his will, she was still alive, because of Kushiél.

  Light filtered from somewhere. Pilar looked up, followed the curve of his chest, the strong column of his neck, to his unflinching jaw. She wanted his attention, a fraction of it, to say…thanks. Yeah, thanks, as if that one word was enough.

  A massive chunk of marble broke free from overhead. She couldn’t get the scream out fast enough for a warning. Kushiél went down to one knee. He curled himself around her body, protecting her with his own.

  “We’re gonna die!”

  “Not today,” he said, his eyes locked on hers. She didn’t catch their color in the convention room, too many lights, too many people to get closer to him in polite company. Plus, he’d worn the most obnoxious shades indoors, at night, but they were gone now, no doubt lost in the commotion. His eyes were midnight green with metallic gold flecks with lashes that were straight and long and utterly gorgeous. A world lived in his eyes, vast and mysterious, dark and deadly. A world she never wanted to visit, not even as a tourist.

  He took the brunt of the blow and grunted. A grimace twisted his already deformed upper lip. His gaze sank into hers, and for a second—the time between blinks—red circled his irises.

  “Are you all right?” Please, God, let him be all right.

  He lunged to his feet. She noticed they were inside some type of anteroom filled with spare chairs and tables. A cracking sounded overhead, she craned her head up.

  “Don’t look,” he ordered. It was already too late. The entire ceiling rushed toward them. She screamed. “I said don’t look,” he muttered, gaining her attention. “Close your eyes and don’t open them until I give you permission, and stop distracting me.”

  Distracting him? It’s bad form to curse your rescuer because that’s exactly what she would have done if his words hadn’t nullified her will, tearing at it with invisible claws. She didn’t fight it, sensed she couldn’t win. Instead, she sidestepped the urge to obey and focused on the soft abrasion on her cheek from his chest hair and the strength in the arms holding her. A wave of dizziness slammed into her and she slumped in his arms.

  Another impact passed through him and into her. He grunted, a deeper, harsher sound that worried her. She wanted to comfort him, praise him, as much as she wanted to curse him, but her lips wouldn’t move. None of her would. The tension in her body leeched away, leaving a false sense of euphoria.

  A gust of air ruffled her hair and cooled the sweat from her brow. They were outside, finally. Clean air filled her lungs as the sound of fabric ripping caught her attention, which was louder than the sirens. Closer. “What was that?” she mumbled, her tongue thick in her mouth. She fought the lethargy with all she had.

  He sighed, clearly annoyed. “Sleep.”

  The pressure in her brain increased until she felt weightless, suspended, yet had a sense of flying. Of freedom. She didn’t want to sleep. Fuck you, I’m not sleepy. Her eyes peeled open a fraction to see the Little Dipper and stars, so many stars she’d never stopped to notice because she’d never taken the time to see the sky.

  And then she caught sight of…wings? It couldn’t be real. Wasn’t possible. Just like she wasn’t flying. All of this was a hallucination. A piece of rubble rearranged her brain. Soon, her mind would unscramble, and everything would make sense—the monster, the rainbow orb, and the wings.

  Still, they were wide and leathery by the sound they made, though she couldn’t guess at the color. And they were, “Beautiful,” she slurred.

  His head jerked
around and his eyes…his eyes weren’t midnight green anymore. They were red—blood red.

  I should scream. She had the urge but couldn’t generate the energy and didn’t want to. She’d much rather float.

  “Where do you live?”

  Not telling you.

  He chuckled and the pressure in her brain was a scalpel to her temple. “You don’t have to tell me. I got it from your mind.”

  Great. You can read my mind.

  “I don’t make it a habit. Human minds are weak, and needy.”

  Hate you.

  “Good,” he mumbled and then glared at her. “How are you still awake? How are you still fighting me?”

  What are you?

  The red faded from his eyes and filled with a modicum of warmth making them seem human again. “Someone who’d never hurt you.”

  She believed him. After all, he’d saved her.

  Pilar tucked her head into his chest and closed her eyes. She realized none of this was real. A knock to the head created this fantasy and she wasn’t going to fight it. Right now, she was probably in an ambulance on the way to a hospital. In a few hours, she’d wake to beeping machines and tubes in her body, and pain. Possibly lots of pain.

  Nope. She’d rather be in his arms, surrounded by his muscle and his scent. Whatever cologne he’d splashed on his skin, the shit was amazing. Wonder if he’d let me lick it off him.

  She’d passed out because a familiar creaking had her eyes opening. How did he get into her house without setting off the alarm? He was in her bedroom, uninvited. He lay her in the center of her king-sized bed, amidst all the accent pillows and unnecessary fluff she loved. His hands lingered, pulling away slowly from her shoulders and legs. He leaned over her, moonlight slashed across his harsh features from the partially closed blinds. If this wasn’t a fantasy and if she had the energy, she would reach up and seize his mouth in a kiss.

  He cupped her face with rough palms. “Sleep. When you wake, this night will be a foggy memory of dancing, drinks, and a taxi ride home. You will forget what happened, and you will forget me.”