I catch a glimpse of Darling’s pink-tinted cheeks in the rearview mirror. Now that I’ve let myself actually look at her, I find that she’s skipped the dark liner and heavy, pale makeup. Even her dark hair is simply styled in short, natural waves. Her bold green eyes and her freckles are on full display, and…she’s pretty. Not sexy. Not glamorous. She’s a pretty girl and I realize that I don’t want to stop looking at her.
“Um, well. It’s just that you guys are really, really good looking. I mean, prettier than most women. And you dress so well. Plus, you look nothing alike.”
I have to bite the insides of my cheeks to keep from laughing. Oh, I’d love to fuck with her and just go along with it, but this poor girl has been through enough.
“No, he’s not my lover. He’s my older brother.”
“Older? Weird. He seems younger than you. Not in a bad way, but… I don’t know. He acts like everything is exciting and new. And you…you act like you’ve seen and done it all, and now you’re just bored.”
“Our Father was a bit strict,” I explain truthfully. “I rebelled and faced the consequences. But Michael was always the good one. So he’s been quite sheltered up until now.”
Darling’s reflection makes a face. “Aren’t you two a bit old to still be controlled by your dad?”
I smile. “I couldn’t agree more.”
“So how old are you? Twenty-five? Twenty-six? It’s weird how you guys look so young yet act and talk like you’re eighty.”
It’s an effort to keep a straight face. Eighty is ancient to her. I wonder how she’d react if she knew we were much closer to eight billion human years.
“Speaking of age,” I begin, changing the subject. “Didn’t you say you had a birthday coming up?”
She leans in closer, filling up the space between the backs of the passenger and driver seats. The hair rises on the back of my neck. It’s not that I haven’t been this close to a female in months, considering I’ve fucked and fondled anyone that even remotely resembled Eden. But this feels more…intimate. And for the first time, I’m not aching to get away from that feeling or wanting to push her away. It’s nice, actually.
“Yeah. Day after tomorrow. I honestly never thought I’d be spending it thousands of miles away from home with two guys I know nothing about. But I guess this beats spending it on a bus. Or getting passed around at Butch’s club. Or dead.”
I don’t understand why, but the thought that she’d rather spend her eighteenth birthday on the road with two strangers just to avoid being raped or murdered makes me uneasy. Maybe a little sad. My gut twists with an unnamed feeling as I bite back the need to say something, do something.
“We’ll be in Vegas by your birthday. You’ll be able to spend it under the bright lights of the strip.”
“Yeah,” she nods, her voice going hollow. Her gaze dips down and immediately I want to take back whatever I said to snuff the light from her eyes.
“Something wrong?”
She shakes her head but says, “I don’t think I’ll get to see much of the strip. Or anything else for that matter.”
I frown. “I doubt you’ll be forced to waitress twenty-four hours a day.”
Darling lifts her narrowed eyes to find mine in the mirror. “Um, I won’t be there to waitress. I thought I mentioned that.” She fidgets behind me and her lips twist with uncertainty.
“I don’t believe you did,” I say flatly, already thinking the worst. “Enlighten me.”
Darling swallows before sucking in a breath. “Casper owns a brothel. And he agreed that if I work off my brother’s debt there, he’d let him go. I know, I know…it’s stupid and immoral. But what else can I do? I have no skills, barely an education. My brother is all I have left. I have to do whatever I can to help him.”
It takes everything in me to keep from stopping this fucking car right here on the highway and turning around.
“You’re selling your body.”
“That’s all I have to offer. And it’s not like I’m going to do it forever. Butch told me that Casper agreed to a year. And considering my…situation…I may be able to earn even more than expected.”
“Your situation?”
The blush of her cheeks is undeniable, even in the dark. “I’m…uh, a virgin. I heard that some guys would be willing to pay to be a girl’s first, so hopefully it’ll work in my favor.” She tries to smile in a show of faux confidence, but I don’t miss the tears rimming her eyes. She’s scared. “For my birthday, I’ll be giving my virginity to a stranger.”
“No, you won’t.” The words leave my lips before I can bite them back. She’s a virgin. And she’s talking about giving her body away to some faceless, pathetic john, referring to her most precious gift as a situation, a mere afterthought. She thinks she has nothing else of value to give, so she’s offering the one thing she can never get back.
Fuck. I don’t how that makes me feel, but fuck.
“Huh?”
My hands are tight on the steering wheel. “No. You won’t,” I repeat with a certainty that I have no business exuding. But I know that Darling won’t be cashing in her V-card to just some lowly stranger paying for a few moments of manufactured love and acceptance. Her first time will be spent getting raped by Casper or whoever will be in charge of her immersion into prostitution. He’ll call it her audition—a tryout to ensure her pussy is good enough to sell. And when her fear and naivety prove frustrating or even exciting, he’ll pass her to the next “judge” and then to the next, until the whole crew gets a taste of the young new prospect. The blood of her sacrifice will have long dried, and the initial pain of her tearing innocence will be replaced with soreness from hours of abuse. She’ll try to pretend that the tears running down her cheeks and onto the pillow are mere tears of pleasure, but they will be birthed of mourning. For what was to be cherished would be stolen from her. It would be used, discarded, and forgotten, much like she’s probably felt her entire life. And that…that’s just too sad a thought for even me to accept.
She sniffles but doesn’t let on that she’s crying so I don’t acknowledge it. Instead Darling slaps on a pained smile and switches the subject.
“If I tell you something, will you promise not to get mad?” she asks, her voice raw.
I shoot her a skeptical brow through the rearview. “What?”
“It’s not bad, not really. But just promise me you won’t get pissed off, ok?”
A snarky response is on the tip of my tongue, but I swallow it down. I don’t have it in me to be callous towards her. Not when I’m basically chauffeuring her to a fate worse than death.
“Sure.”
Darling chews her lip nervously before taking a steeling breath. “I lied.”
“About?”
“About what I saw when I looked at you. I said I couldn’t see yours or Michael’s souls. But I did see something.”
And here we are.
The moment when her savior will be forced to become her worst nightmare.
I don’t want to hurt Darling. She is not deserving of my wrath. But if one human girl whom no one will miss or search for must die in order to keep my secret, thus keeping Eden safe, I’ll do it. I’ll kill this little wilted flower before it’s even had a chance to fully bloom.
“You may be the most beautiful man I have ever seen,” she soldiers on, unaware that she will never see the age of eighteen. “But there’s a darkness that veils you. It clings to you, almost as if shielding you. Sadness. So much sadness and pain. You wear it like armor.” She makes a sound and shakes her head. “Kinda like me with the black makeup, I guess. We protect ourselves the best way we know how. Because isolating ourselves by wearing that pain is a helluva lot better than giving someone else the ability to hurt us.”
Then Darling does something that nearly makes me swerve into the next lane. She touches me. It’s just her small hand on my shoulder, but it’s there. Her heat seeping through the fabric of my jacket and whispering over my skin.
&nb
sp; I don’t know how long it’s been since someone was brave enough to do that. Even the women I’ve fucked…they’d admire me from a safe distance. They’d eagerly offer their mouth and their slick, warm holes. But they never touched me, as if they knew one wrong move and I’d break every bone in their hand with a simple flick of my finger. And that was the way I wanted it. That was the way it had to be.
Until now.
I hadn’t realized how much I had craved contact until this very moment. And for the first time in a long time, I want to touch someone back.
“I hope you don’t mind me asking, but…did someone break your heart?”
I don’t answer. Instead, I swallow through an unexplained tightness in my throat. Fuck. My tie must be too tight.
“I know I have no right to ask,” she continues to combat my silence. “And it’s not like I have any experience at all with relationships, but I thought it—”
“It can’t,” I finally say, my tone low.
“What?”
“I said, it can’t.”
“What do you mean, it can’t? Are you saying your heart can’t be broken?”
“Yes.”
She shakes her head, not buying my bullshit. “That’s silly. I don’t know much about the world, but I know that anyone can be heartbroken. Even guys who look like you.”
“I can’t.”
“And why’s that?” she says on an exhale, rolling her eyes.
And then I let her have one more kernel of truth, from one forgotten soul to another. “Because I have no heart to break.”
Chapter 4
Somewhere between Colorado and Utah, I finally give up the wheel and give into exhaustion after driving for almost a day straight. It’s frustrating as fuck to admit that my body must succumb to sleep just as a human does, but for the first time in months, my mind quiets long enough to allow my eyelids to rest. And then…I dream.
At first, it’s the same dream on a constant loop, as if some unseen force is punishing me for my weakness by making me envision the one person I can never have. And in my dream, she chooses him—Legion—every single time, leaving me to dissipate into oblivion. Then I’m forced to watch them live out their days in bliss, always on the outside, never able to make contact. However, this time, as I’m banging on the invisible barrier that keeps me from breaking through, she turns. She turns and looks right at me, yet she can’t see me. But she knows someone’s there. She remembers. And not just the narcissistic prick who tricked her into going to Hell. Not the sadist who made her watch live rape and torture over fine wine and gourmet meals. She remembers me. The man who held her broken, shivering body when her visions of Legion tormented her. The man who wanted to show her the world and give her only the very best, most beautiful things because to him, she was the best, most beautiful thing.
She remembers me.
I jolt awake as if I’ve just received a shot of adrenaline to my chest. Michael peers over at me, taking in my wild-eyed stare and slack jaw.
“Sleep well? I thought you were dead.”
I scrub a hand over my face as I gather my wits and remember that we’re in mixed company. “Don’t be absurd,” I rasp, sparing a quick glance back at Darling and finding her expression expectant. “Where are we?”
“Almost there. You’ve been asleep for hours.”
I look out the window, noting the dry, flat earth without even a dusting of frost. We must’ve stopped because Darling has changed and Michael has swapped his button-up shirt out for something more casual. That only makes me feel grimier and I run my tongue over my teeth, frustrated at my disheveled state. This living like a human shit is highly overrated.
We decide to switch drivers since Michael hasn’t a clue where we’re going. Luckily, he and Darling were able to navigate the way this far with GPS, but once we hit the city, traffic will be a whole different beast. It’s after nightfall by the time we see the first of many casinos in the distance. The sight is like a mirage in the desert, and although a cruel fate lies beyond, Darling could not be more enthralled by the bright twinkling lights and the palpable energy that vibrates all around us.
“Wow,” she gasps, her face glued to the window. “This is unreal!”
I smile at her youthful exuberance through the rearview. I don’t even bitch about smudges. “I take it this is your first time in Vegas?”
Darling nods, refusing to take her eyes off the neon-lit hotels and casinos looming over us. She points to a screen that’s showcasing Britney Spears, then in the next blink, she’s gesturing toward a roller coaster. “This place is amazing! Why would anyone ever leave?”
“Because they’ve run out of money,” I answer.
Michael isn’t too far off, if not even more excited than Darling, and I honestly can’t blame him. We’ve been driving for twenty-four hours straight, and the need to stretch our legs and breathe in some fresh air has us all anxious.
“Lucie, was that a…man?” he asks, pointing towards a seven-foot tall drag queen who could be a dead ringer for Rihanna. “And look! An all-you-can-eat buffet!”
I admire his enthusiasm although I don’t share it. I can’t. Gambling, gluttony, promiscuity, addiction… there’s a reason they call this Sin City. Because it’s my city. It’s a natural hot spot for depravity, and that means it is teeming with demons. Which is why I made it a point to stay far away from Vegas, along with other major cities. Yet, here we are, pulling up to a five-star resort in a Bentley, just asking to be seen. And there’s nothing I can do to even conceal our identity without emitting a supernatural bat signal that’ll attract every otherworldly creature within fifty miles.
Michael and Darling are still oooohing and ahhhhing even after we’ve unloaded and are being ushered to the lobby to check in. I will admit, Livéd is spectacular. I should know. I own it. That information wouldn’t be public record, of course, but it is the only resort and casino on the strip with a mystical ward around it. No demons allowed, just like at The Saint Hotel in New Orleans. So for at least one night, we’ll be able to breathe.
The woman at the front desk beams as we approach, as if she can smell the wealth coming off Michael and I. However, when she spies Darling, she purses her lips and directs her greeting only to the males. That just won’t do.
“I need suite 999…” I peer at her nametag, “Teresa.”
Teresa frowns with confusion. “I’m sorry, sir, but you must be mistaken. There is no suite 999.”
“You have one. It’s a secret penthouse that only one person can access outside of select staff.” Teresa opens her mouth to interject, but I soldier on. “And no, you’re not going to ask for ID because if you knew your job, which I’m assuming you don’t, you’d know there is a biometric scanner behind the desk that will give me access. And do you know why I have access?”
Teresa is so stunned that it takes her a minute to realize the question was for her. “Oh, um…no, sir. I don’t.”
I move in close and utter only for her ears, “Because everything you have is solely because I willed it so. You see, Teresa, I don’t just own this hotel, I own your soul. I do hope you’ve been staying out of trouble ever since you ran over that poor homeless man with your car six years ago. You begged that night. I can make you beg again, if you like.”
She straightens as I back away, taking her nerve with her. A single tear escapes her eye.
“I’m so… I’m so sorry, sir,” she stammers, her voice trembling. “I’ll get those keys ready for you right away.”
She works furiously to get our room ready despite her shaking hands. However, I’m not done with her yet.
“And Teresa? I want you to personally arrange for our best masseuse and nail and hair technicians to come up tomorrow morning and service Ms. Darling, along with any of her other grooming. And if she is anything other than absolutely dazzled, heads will roll. Specifically, your head. Understand?”
Teresa nods, trying and failing to contain her terror. “Yes, sir.”
“Splendid.”
“Is…is there anything else I can help you with?”
I smile, a pretty little balm over her wound. She shivers. She doesn’t know whether to be frightened or aroused.
“We’ll manage for now, love. But when I call, you come. And I will call.”
I turn away from her without another word and lead Michael and Darling to a separate elevator bay. They’re quiet behind me until we step into the car and I press the only button on the panel. No numbers, just a single black button.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Darling asks meekly. “I know you wanted to lay low. What if someone finds us here?”
“They won’t,” I reply with an edge of finality.
Michael sidles up beside me. “999?” he whispers.
I pull out the special key cards designed only for my suite—black with three red digits—and turn it upside down. “Didn’t want to be too cheeky.”
The doors slide open to reveal a massive suite draped in shades of crimson, black, and silver. Two floors, three bedrooms, three and a half baths, a living area with a 75” television, a fully stocked kitchen and bar, a game room with a pool table and movie theater, and a balcony with a private pool and Jacuzzi. Yet, even with overwhelming opulence at his disposal, Michael is anxious to shower, dress, and get downstairs to enjoy the casino and clubs.
“You’re not seriously considering going alone, are you?”
I lean against the doorjamb of his bedroom while Michael finishes dressing. It wasn’t too long ago that Michael was considered my fiercest adversary. He was the one who imprisoned me in Hell at Father’s command, and he was only too happy to do so. I used to hate him, not because he was the general of God’s army. But because Michael was the ultimate brownnoser. He embodied everything that repels people from religion. He felt his unshakeable faith made him superior, when in reality, it made him weak. There was life beyond the narrow scope of his beliefs, and he was denying himself of uncharted pleasures. And now that he had freed himself from the shackles of his ignorance, he wanted to experience as much life as he could. And normally, I would be delighted to be his wingman.
Such Violent Delights: A Holiday Paranormal Romance Anthology Page 25
