“You want some too, you fucking cocksucker?!”
Johnny raises a meaty fist to strike, but before the rage spittle from his tight lips has a chance to fall onto his knock-off Burberry sneakers, I’m already inside his head, rendering him completely helpless. I don’t even take the chance to feel around in there. It’s all black, empty—a cesspool of insecurity and malice. I want to cleanse myself of his mental bile as soon as possible. Being inside his useless brain actually makes me feel dumber.
“Put your hand down.” My voice is clear and imposing, devoid of alarm. Christian and the cunty crew watch with amazement as Johnny does exactly what I command. He stares straight ahead with wide, glassy eyes, unable to move under my compulsion.
“Now, turn and apologize to my friend Christian for being a micro-dick bigot.”
Just as I ordered, Johnny stiffly turns to Christian, his movements robotic. Unable to fight the compulsion, his voice wavers as he says, “Sorry for being a micro-dick bigot.”
Christian just stands there, speechless, looking from Johnny to me then back to Johnny. Normally, I wouldn’t do this. Hell, I’ve never flexed my mental muscles in front of people before. I don’t know if it’s the liquor, or my own jacked up self-awareness, but I’m sick and tired of being docile. I’m sick and tired of being scared. So many times, I could have fought back, and I remained quiet. Not anymore. I’ve been to Hell and back. What else do I have to fear?
“What are you doing to him, you fucking freak?!” Johnny’s main girl, Donna, yelps. My head whips to her so fast that it almost feels unnatural. Superhuman. And without thinking, I sink invisible talons into the soft, spongy tissue of her brain.
Holy shit.
Holy shit.
I’m holding them both. At the same time.
I’ve never, ever done this before. Shit, I’ve never even tried. And I can’t even freak the fuck out about it for fear that I’ll lose the connection. I quiet my own mental ramblings, take a deep breath and focus on harnessing my will into them.
“Shut your mouth.”
Red-painted lips instantly clamp together into a thin, angry slash.
“Sit down.”
She drops to the soiled floor, right into a puddle of spilled beer littered with soggy fries.
I turn my attention back to Johnny.
“Punch yourself in the face.”
The resounding crack of bone against bone is enough to turn my stomach, but I don’t falter, even when the rest of the girls cry out in shock. I know there are eyes everywhere. I should stop—I need to stop. But I don’t want to. His pain, his blood…they only seem to motivate me.
“Do it again. Hard.”
The whole bar seems to quiet in stupefied horror, making the crunch of shattering cartilage and tearing flesh that much more sickening.
“Now every time you get the urge to be a disrespectful little fuck boy, I want you to punch yourself in the face,” I demand. “Do you understand? Answer me.”
“I understand,” Johnny whimpers through the stream of thick blood gushing from his nose.
I nod once. Then I turn to the girls.
The scene has been burned into my mind for days. The way Lucifer commanded women without even saying a word. How they tore into each other’s flesh with terrifying glee. I was disgusted, horrified, physically sickened. But more than that, I was fascinated. How? Why?
Don’t, a small whisper echoes in my head.
But even that voice cannot coax me from the allure…from that intoxicating draw to power. I want it for myself. My entire frame is prickling. I’m literally itching with the need to feel that power in my veins.
“Eden…” I hear Christian call out. He’s beside me now, but I don’t feel his presence anymore. I don’t feel anything at all.
My lips part. I suck in a breath.
I can taste the poison words on my tongue, begging to be spoken. Venom so addictively sweet, yet fatal.
Don’t, the voice says again, louder this time.
It doesn’t matter though. My mind is made up. I’m already past the point of no return.
This is who I am. Who I was meant to be.
Who can stop me now?
I feel him before he steps into view. Even from yards away, his very presence puts my senses into hyper-drive, scrambling my thoughts and causing my jaw to go slack. And when he opens his mouth to speak, the rage that had fueled my vicious words just moments before are instantly extinguished into ash, allowing shame, remorse and, yes, fear to take its place. I can’t even make sense of why I’m here…why I’m doing this. I shake myself from the hold of my mind’s compulsion and take a step back, bumping into a pub table hard enough to rattle the empty glasses atop it.
“Mind if we play?” he asks smoothly, those sparkling silver eyes taunting me under the dim bar lighting. He looks from me to Christian then to the scene before us—a wannabe gangster with a broken nose and his hoard of horrified whores.
“We?” Even in my state of shock, I don’t miss the word. One demon is bad enough. More than that…trouble.
Right on cue, Cain and Toyol step out from the crowd, coming to stand on opposite ends of the pool table. Legion is facing me from the other side, his brothers to my left and my right. I’m locked in. They’re all wearing their usual assassin black, and while there are no weapons to be seen, I don’t doubt they’re armed to the teeth.
Christian stands frozen in place just a yard away from Legion, his eyes wide and his lips slightly parted. Poor guy. He just wanted to take a girl on date, play a few rounds of pool, maybe even spring for a kiss. He has no idea what he’s walked into. It was a mistake agreeing to go out with him. But the thought of sitting in that huge, new apartment alone, frankly, scared me. I’d be a sitting duck. And while Lucifer may not want to physically hurt me, I can’t say I’m all that convinced that he wouldn’t resort to other methods of torment to get what he wants. Methods I’m not sure I’m strong enough to resist.
Which makes me nothing more than a selfish asshole who put an innocent human in the crosshairs.
And that makes me no better than the Devil himself.
There’s no question that Legion could singlehandedly disintegrate this entire building within seconds if he wanted to. And now that I’ve done the unspeakable and revealed myself, would he?
“So…can we?” he asks at the same time Christian snaps out of momentary shock. He rushes to my side, carefully brushing past Cain who sneers at him with amused contempt.
“Eden, are you alright?” he questions, grasping my shoulders. He studies my dazed eyes, searching for signs of harm, but I can’t see anything past the man whose quicksilver gaze is the only thing anchoring me back to humanity. Funny how days ago, I just wanted to remember. Now I can’t seem to forget.
“She’s fine,” Legion snaps, the edge in his tone causing me to blink from my trance.
I force myself to look at Christian. “Yes. I’m fine.” I don’t know what else to say. How do I explain? How do I undo all the wrong I’ve inflicted?
There’s a commotion from across the pool table as Johnny’s slow, convoluted mind begins to piece together what’s just happened. He licks his lips, tasting blood, then looks down at his disoriented girlfriend sitting in a pool of wasted beer, a good bit of his blood and, judging by the stench, her own urine.
“Wha…what the fuck?” he stammers, regaining the use of his faculties. He looks to his left, taking in the beast of a man whose eyes remain locked on mine. Next to Legion, Johnny looks like an overweight toddler. Still, even with his blood staining the front of his shirt and his girl crying in her own filth, he, unfortunately, doesn’t sense the real danger surrounding him.
“Hey you, I’m talkin’ to you,” he calls out, his wild glare pinned on Christian and I. “What the fuck did you do, you crazy bitch?”
At that, Legion flinches, just slightly. Just enough for me to know that Johnny’s life is dangling by a single, frayed thread.
“You’re dead.
Both of you,” Johnny threatens, fists clenched at his sides. “You’re fucking dead!”
He only manages to take a single step before Johnny is face down on the pool table, his blood oozing onto the green felt. His arms are stretched behind him, both wrists trapped inside of one of Legion’s palms while his other hand is pressed into the back of Johnny’s meaty neck.
“Get off me, asshole!” Johnny screeches. He struggles with every ounce of his might, but Legion is unmovable. Hell, he doesn’t even break a sweat. Instead, he trains his glare on Christian, his eyes sparking with sterling fire.
“Take her home.”
I shake my head. “No. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Leave. Now, Eden!”
His words cut right through the boisterous room, and slice right into my head. The echo of his command rattles my skull in a way that is both slightly painful, and impossible to resist. I step forward, my limbs moving on their own accord.
“I…I don’t want to go,” I manage to stutter. But even as I say the words, I’m turning towards the door, Christian right at my side with a guiding hand on my arm. “I don’t want to.”
“Go now. Go home.”
The intensity of his command is not as jarring, but I still can’t defy him. And judging by the way Christian’s grip tightens around my forearm as he makes a beeline for the exit, maybe he feels it too. Shit. What is happening? Demons aren’t supposed to be able to bend the wills of humans. Which is exactly why I was created. And if that’s true, how is Legion doing it right now?
I feel instantly sobered when we hit the icy sidewalk, the bone-chilling fresh air like a splash of water on my face. There’s a cab waiting at the curb that Christian leads me to. When we’re both safely in the backseat, the driver takes off without even asking where we’re going.
“Do you know those guys?” he whispers, trying to tame the excitement from his voice.
“No,” I lie.
“But they knew your name, Eden. And the way you made that thug punch himself in the face, and how you made that girl sit on the dirty ground…whoa. What was that? I’ve never seen anything like that before in my life!”
Although he’s whispering, Christian is practically jumping up and down in his seat. Nothing I could say could logically explain what happened. Fuck. This isn’t good. And if there was ever a good time to use my gift, it’s now. Not only to save my own ass, but to spare him the knowledge of an underworld that was not designed for the faint of heart. Ignorance isn’t just bliss, in this case. It’s absolutely necessary for his survival.
“Hey, Christian. Look at me.”
He shifts his body on the cramped, musty backseat, the cracked leather crunching beneath us. Intense moss green eyes twinkle with excitement. He’s so distracted by the night’s occurrences that his mind is completely open to me, and I slip in without him detecting the intrusion. He doesn’t even flinch.
“Forget what you saw tonight.”
I think to go a step further, and imbed an illusion in his head, but I’ve never gone that far. And now’s not the time to test the limits of my abilities. Especially not with someone like Christian. Someone good and kind and normal. Some other jerkoff on the street may be a different story for a different day.
When we arrive in front of my sister’s building, I stop Christian before he can open the car door.
“I can take it from here. Thanks,” I insist with a tight smile.
“You sure? At least let me walk you up.” There’s a touch of hope lighting his green eyes now.
“I’m fine, promise. It’s late, and all I want to do is crash.”
He has the decency to save the persistence and nods with understanding. “This was…fun. Sorry we didn’t get to play pool. Maybe we can give it another shot?”
“Sure, that sounds fun,” I find myself saying. And I almost mean it too.
“Great. Your sister has my number. Sleep well, Eden.”
Like a true gentleman, he doesn’t take off until I’m safely inside the building. Luckily, Sister gave me my own key earlier, or I would have to figure out how to sneak in without disturbing her and Ben. However, when I quietly shut the door to the high-rise apartment, I find that it’s empty. Hmmm. Maybe Christian was mistaken about them coming back here, which is both a relief and a disappointment. It would have been nice to have someone home, even if I did have to fall asleep with my headphones on and my music turned up.
I’m exhausted from exerting myself mentally, yet still wired, so I rummage through the kitchen in search of tea bags. What was that with Legion? And what happened after he made us leave? I don’t think he would hurt a human, even a shitty one, but I’m not sure what he would do if provoked. Shit. I don’t know anything about him, to tell the truth. And if the legends are true, hurting innocents isn’t outside the realm of possibilities.
I can’t think like that. I can’t believe that the man who held my body tight and kissed away my nightmares would ever go that far. He may be demon, but he is angel by nature. He was not created in sin. He was rebirthed in it.
I have to believe that light still exists within him. I’ve seen it before in his dazzling eyes born of stardust. I’ve felt it in his touch—gentle and reverent—so at odds with the brusqueness he allows the rest of the world to see. I’ve basked in the warm glow of his dimpled smiles while his heart hummed me a lullaby, my cheek pressed to his chest. That is the man I know and had grown to care for. And no myth…no ancient tale…should change that. What may or may not have happened a dozen centuries ago should not dictate what I feel right here, right now.
If only it were that simple.
After making sure the apartment is locked tight, I take my tea to my bedroom. My bedroom. Never in my life have I ever had something so lavish to call my own. I didn’t even have my own room until Sister and I got that rundown apartment together, and even that was more closet than bedroom. And now I have square freakin’ footage, with baseboards and trim and all that shit we’d see while watching HGTV. And yeah, it’s not technically mine, but I sure as hell am going to enjoy it like it is. I’ve lived my life waiting for that other shoe to drop…waiting for something to be snatched away from me. I learned never to get comfortable, because everything was temporary. And my very existence…it’s temporary as fuck. So I’m going to enjoy this little piece of happiness, even when I know it can be plucked from my grasp at any moment.
I’ve just slipped out of the boots and sweater dress and traded them for leggings and a loose, oversized tee when there’s a knock at the door. I freeze. It could be Sister, but she would have most likely spent the night with Ben. Or maybe it’s Legion. Then again, he wouldn’t knock. And it’s not some random social call either. It’s late as hell and the doorman would have called.
Shit.
Another knock, and I’m reaching for my purse. I don’t take out the gun, but I slip my trembling hand inside it before slowly exiting my room. If this were someone that intends to harm me, they wouldn’t waste time with knocking. Especially not the type of enemies I seem to attract.
Another knock, and I peek through the peep hole.
And I sigh with relief.
I set my bag on small table nearby, feeling silly.
“Hey,” I say after swinging open the door. “Did I forget something?”
Christian flashes a boyish grin and shakes his head, causing blonde waves to play against his forehead. “No. But I did. You.”
Then I’m staring into the dark barrel of a gun that smells oddly sweet, almost sickeningly so.
Like the scent that tainted Phenex’s blood after his thigh was sliced open to the bone.
Like the burning rope that bound my arms and legs in that damp, cement prison.
Honeysuckle and sunshine.
Angel venom.
Christian? Sure. Why-the-fuck-not. Everything else in my life is a sham.
You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.
“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” I say aloud.
Christian steps forward, forcing me into the apartment. He kicks the door closed, his gun still trained between my eyes.
“I don’t want to hurt you, Eden. But I will. Give me a reason and I will.” His voice is different…colder. Even his eyes seem darker. The nice guy act was just that—an act.
“And what reason would warrant this?” I question, my voice level. I should be afraid, but oddly enough, I’m not. More annoyed than anything. Normal, my ass. But what did I expect? There’s never been anything normal about me. I’m just pissed I wasted a good dress on a fraud.
“Put your shoes on,” he demands, ignoring my question.
He starts walking towards the hallway, causing me to step backwards until we reach my bedroom. I find my sneakers and take my time slipping them on, giving myself a moment to collect my bearings. And while he’s looming over me, that gun just inches from my face, I fling out my invisible hand, reaching, reaching, reaching for the connection of his brain. But my mental grasp closes around static. I cast my reel once more, again meeting fuzzy, unintelligible white noise.
“Something wrong, Eden?” Christian smirks, reading my narrowed glare.
No point in lying. If he knows enough to show up with a weapon infused with angel venom, then he knows what I am. “Why can’t I read you?”
“Because I’m not letting you.”
Not letting me? How…? “And that’s possible?”
“For me, it is. Now stop trying to fuck with my head and get your shit. We’ve got somewhere to be.”
He instructs me to grab my coat and keys, but when I go to gather my purse, he stops me.
“You’re more liable to shoot yourself than anyone else. And you damn sure aren’t shooting me. Leave it.”
Fuck. How the hell…? It hasn’t been out of my sight the entire evening.
I’m completely defenseless. Suddenly, my annoyance has morphed into something else entirely. Panic.
“And where are we going?”
“To meet someone.”
“And this someone…what do they want?” Keep him talking, Eden. Talking is good. If I’m talking, I’m still alive.