Wicked Ruin (Se7en Sinners Book 3)

  “But I didn’t will it to,” I reply, stepping off the treadmill. It’s true. Yesterday, I was actually trying, and I felt like I was the verge of passing out. Today, I just wasn’t thinking about it, too consumed with other shit to notice my pace.

  “Maybe not consciously, but this…” He brings a hand up to gently flick my forehead. “…is a lot more powerful than you could ever imagine. The average human uses only a small fraction of their brain. Nephilim are able to tap into a much higher percentage, allowing certain abilities to manifest. Your brain was locked by your father. Pulling Adriel out of you must have undone whatever spell he cloaked you with.”

  I roll my eyes. I don’t care how nice Adriel seems to everyone else. I don’t trust her. Just the sound of her name makes me want to hit something.

  “Cool story, bro. Now can we get to work?”

  Reading my mind, or maybe just seeing the need for me to work on my fighting skills, Crysis leads me to the heavy bag. He positions himself opposite of me and holds it in place.

  “Do your worst, half-breed,” he jibes.

  I flip him off. “Um, don’t I get some gloves? Or tape at least?”

  “Will you have on gloves when you step outside Irin’s gates and have to fight for your life?”

  “No.”

  “Then you won’t have them on now. Mind over matter, Eden. Your brain is stronger, but so is your body.”

  I take a deep breath and let it out through my nose. “Whatever you say, sensei.” Then I punch the heavy canvas sack with all my might.

  Pain blasts through my knuckles, through my wrist, and up to my elbow.

  “Motherfucker!” I yelp, shaking my arm to stave off the ache.

  Crysis is on the verge of a laugh, and if I weren’t already hurting, I’d knock that smirk right off his handsome face. “Good. That’s good. A hit like that would’ve shattered your hand if you were human. Look at it.”

  I look down and find that while my fist is a good shade of bright red, it’s still intact. I could’ve sworn I had scraped all the skin off my knuckles.

  “See? You’re capable of more than you could ever imagine. Now just get a handle on your pain. Block it out, just like you blocked out the exhaustion while you were running. Don’t think of hitting the heavy bag. Think of crushing an enemy’s skull with your bare hands. That’s not your bones you hear cracking. It’s not you who is feeling that pain. Channel it—the rage, the fear, the resentment. Take it and use it to your advantage.”

  Unlucky for Crysis, I have enough rage, fear, and resentment for three lifetimes. Because after a few more hits with me biting down on the pain in my hands, I find my stride. And soon even he can’t hold the bag steady without feeling the impact of my blows. And that skull I’m crushing? It’s not one of an enemy. At least not an enemy to the rest of them. But anyone who threatens my happiness and peace of mind—anyone who thinks they can smile sweetly to my face then turn around and try to take what’s mine, is certainly not my friend.

  I don’t even realize I’ve drawn a crowd until Crysis calls for a break. Everyone regards me with expressions of shock and appreciation, nodding at me with esteem, even a few approving smiles. Everyone except for Adriel, who stands in the doorway of the gym, arms crossed over her chest. Her green eyes glow with something I can only describe as steely resolve, and her perfect pout is flattened into a tight line.

  Crysis follows my line of vision, then looks back to me. “We’re done for the morning.”

  “No.” I break my vengeful stare only to glare at him with determination. “More.”

  He shakes his head. “Not like this, Eden. You need to get your shit on straight.”

  “My shit is straight,” I snap. “I’m never going to learn if you keep handling me with kid gloves. You said so yourself—I’m stronger than I think. But none of that means jack shit if I don’t know how to fight.”

  Crysis looks away and shakes his head again. The Se7en take it as their cue to disperse and resume their own workouts. I guess a spat amongst Nephilim is none of their concern. Honestly, they probably wouldn’t mind if we ripped each other apart.

  “Fine. But no more of the heavy bag. You wanna fight someone? Fight me. For real.”

  I nod, but I’m inwardly nervous at the thought of going toe to toe with him. Crysis is light years ahead of me in strength and technique. He was raised by the Alliance, so he’s been a soldier his entire life. And now that he’s almost at 100% after being tortured by his own brethren, I’m pretty sure he could kick my ass in two seconds flat. Hell, yesterday he wasn’t even trying, and I saw stars a few times.

  Yet, my pride won’t let me back down, and I follow him into the ring. There’s no way I’m punking out with Adriel watching.

  Realizing I’m drenched in sweat, I strip off my hoodie so that I’m down to a sports bra and tank top, and approach the middle of the ring, my hands up to guard my face.

  “What the fuck is that?” Crysis drops his fists and stands straight up from his fighter’s stance.

  I frown. “Huh?”

  “Your neck, Eden. What the fuck…is that a bite mark?”

  Shit.

  I clutch my neck, my eyes darting around frantically, praying no one else noticed. “It’s nothing.”

  But if they didn’t notice, they surely heard. “Nothing, my ass!” Crysis shouts. “Are you fucking kidding me? Please tell me you’re not that stupid. You cannot be that hard up for dick that you would let him fucking take a bite out of you.”

  “Will you shut the fuck up?” I whisper harshly. Hand still shielding my neck, I scurry to where I tossed my hoodie and shove it back on.

  “No, I will not. You know…” He snorts, shaking his head. “I knew you were naïve as shit, but I never thought you were so blind that you’d risk your life. Maybe I was wrong about you being mentally stronger. Because all I see is you acting like a brain-dead gutter rat who would rather be beaten by her abusive boyfriend than be alone.”

  I nearly flinch at the sting of his words, my face burning hot. “Don’t pretend to know me. You don’t know shit about me, so please spare me the righteous indignation. I’m not the one who’s on the run from their own brothers after being caught for being two-faced.”

  “No, you’re just on the run from your own father after he made you then left you with a mother who didn’t want you either.”

  And that’s it. That’s the finishing blow to my already fractured heart.

  I knew Crysis didn’t like the idea of me with Legion—I get that. But for him to go there? What drives a person to cut someone that deep over a petty grudge? I did nothing to him. If anything, I’m the only reason why he’s here and still breathing, because Niko knows what he means to me. Meant to me. A friend doesn’t purposely try to hurt someone just for the fuck of it, just because he doesn’t like what goes down between two consenting adults. What Legion and I have is none of his fucking business. Better yet, I’m none of his fucking business.

  “Fuck. You,” I spit, turning to exit the ring.

  “Eden, look…”

  “Shut your fucking mouth. Don’t even whisper my fucking name. We’re done.”

  I march over and snatch up my iPod and earbuds. I can feel Crysis on my heels.

  “I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry.”

  “Fuck your sorry, and fuck you.”

  I turn towards the only exit, ready to escape this gym and this day. Even through the angry tears burning my eyes, I can clearly see a trail of fiery red hair retreating from the gym.

  Adriel heard and saw everything. And that hurts just as much as Crysis’s betrayal.

  “E? You ok? Open up or I’m breaking the door down.”

  Niko has been knocking on my door for the past five minutes. No doubt, he’s heard about what went down between Crysis and me. Shit, I wouldn’t be surprised if even Irin’s staff was buzzing about the ordeal.

  Fuck. Me.

  High school sucked enough. I hated being the topic of gossip
then, and I hate it even more now.

  “Come on, open up. I have food. And booze.”

  “I’m not hungry,” I call out, my voice hoarse from crying.

  I hate that I let myself break like that. I hate that I fucking cared enough about him to allow him to hurt me. I’ve been called every name in the book and didn’t give a damn about it, just like I didn’t give a damn about the person spewing the insults. But Crysis…I thought he was my friend. And when you grow up not having many of those, losing just one feels like a knife to the heart.

  “Well, I’m hungry,” Niko says. “Let me in so you can watch me eat and tell me how good I look doing it.”

  I chuckle, even though I don’t want to, but don’t respond.

  “Seriously, I will break this door down.”

  I roll my eyes and drag myself from the bed and across the room. “No, you will not,” I say by way of greeting, swinging the door open. “Irin would be pissed. She probably paid a fortune for it.”

  “Eh,” Niko shrugs. “I can afford it.”

  As promised, he has food and booze, and somehow, he looks gloriously handsome in a navy blue button up and slacks, all perfectly tailored to his lean yet muscular body. Meanwhile, I’m still gross in my workout clothes.

  Niko enters the room and sets down the tray of food and drinks. No wine today. He’s gone straight for the scotch. The good stuff too.

  “What’s all this?” I question. It’s barely early afternoon.

  “This is letting you get me drunk so you can take advantage of me.” He uncovers the domed plates, revealing cheeseburgers, fries, and macaroni and cheese. Trans fats and comfort food. I could kiss him right now.

  Still, I retort, “I can’t eat that, and I damn sure can’t drink that. I have weapons training with Cain.”

  “Not anymore, you don’t.” He plucks up a fry and stuffs it into his mouth. “Some super-secret Se7en thing. Besides, you need a day off.”

  “A day off? I’m not even on the job yet.”

  “Well, I need a day off,” he shrugs.

  As much as I want to pretend that Crysis’s words didn’t get to me and that I can dust our fight off my shoulders, I have to admit that hiding out with junk food and Niko’s easy personality is more than tempting. Plus, I am starving.

  I snag a couple fries of my own in resignation. “What super-secret Se7en stuff?”

  “I don’t know. But they all disappeared to their section of the house. Not even the staff is allowed entry to that hallway. Must be serious.”

  Strange. And kinda disheartening. The Se7en saw what went down and heard every word, meaning that Legion heard every word. I had expected him to check on me, not that I’m not grateful for Niko. But in a way, I’m glad Legion didn’t come. I was embarrassed in that gym. I was humiliated and demeaned. I don’t want to show that weakness to anyone, especially him.

  As if knowing where my thoughts are headed, Niko cracks open the bottle of scotch and pours us each a few fingers worth. I take my offered glass and sip. The searing burn is soothing to the lump still caught in my throat.

  “Wanna talk about it?” he asks, taking a swig of his own drink.

  “Nope.”

  One stiff nod. “Ok.”

  We take our plates to the bed where we sit and eat and avoid talking about anything of substance. Niko woos me with stories of his home, Skiathos, and what it was like to grow up as the little prince of the Dark in his older brother’s shadow.

  “Compared to Dorian, I was a spoiled, entitled little shit.”

  “Noooo,” I jibe. “Not you!”

  “You laugh, but if you knew half the shit I’d done, you may never speak to me again.”

  I shrug. “We’ve all got skeletons. I’m no angel.” I shake my head and chuckle. “Well, only half angel.”

  “You honestly don’t give yourself enough credit, E. Yeah, you’re a bit rough around the edges, but it’s not your fault.” He lays a hand on mine, his skin cool to the touch. “And it doesn’t make you desperate or stupid to want to love and be loved. It makes you human. Something I only got a taste of. And let me tell you, I’d trade anything—anything—to have that once again, even for just a moment.”

  “Thanks,” I reply with a solemn half smile, determined not to cry again. I take a cleansing breath. “Now pour me another glass. It’s our day off.”

  Two burgers, a pile of fries, a heaping mound of mac and cheese, and a bottle of scotch later, we’re laying on our backs, side by side, staring at the ceiling.

  I made Niko tell me everything about him, from how his one and only true love was sent to change his heart so he could one day save Gabriella, to the twisted shit he did to impress Lucifer and get in his good graces.

  “He told you…about Legion,” I utter. “Didn’t he? He knew what would happen if he was unleashed on the world a second time.”

  “He didn’t have to.”

  “You think he has it in check? I mean, he doesn’t seem like a murderous beast that wants to wipe out mankind. To me, nothing has changed. But then sometimes…I don’t know. It’s like he’s not there. Like he’s dead inside. I know he’s different, but I just don’t know how different.”

  “Does he love you?”

  I turn to face him, my brow furrowed in surprise. “What?”

  “Do you think Legion loves you?”

  I turn back to look up at the ceiling, if only to hide my reddening face. “I don’t know. I don’t even know if he’s capable of it. But when I’m with him, and he holds me so tight to him as if he’s afraid I’ll slip away, and I’m filled with an overwhelming sense of peace and safety, I think to myself, “this must be what love feels like.””

  “Awww, that’s beautiful as shit, E,” Niko muses, a smile in his voice. I reach over and pinch his side and nearly break a nail against the hard muscle. He laughs when I jerk my hand back. “But in all seriousness…if he loves you, he’ll always come back to you. Even when it feels like you’ve lost him. He’ll find his way back to you.”

  I scoot closer and lay my head on his shoulder. “Old guys are so wise.”

  “Old? I’m an infant compared to the dinosaur you’re fucking.”

  I can’t argue with that, so I just laugh. I laugh until tears spring from my eyes. And this time, I don’t mind them.

  I know I drift off to sleep, but I don’t remember it. All I know is that when I wake up, my head is pounding and the room is dark. Shit. I better not have slept the day away. I promised Sister I’d come back to see her. I hate not following through, plus I wanted to get more information about the skin graft.

  After dragging my ass out of bed, rinsing my mouth out, and taking a much needed shower, I go in search of my first priority: water. I hate to say it, but maybe that asshole, Crysis, was right. I need to hydrate.

  After gulping down a gallon from the kitchen, I roam into what I’ve deemed the ballroom to find Lilith and Andras sitting at the bar, a half a dozen magazines, a laptop, and a couple iPads in front of them. Andras is scribbling something on a pad of paper while Lilith holds up two fabric swatches.

  “Hey,” Andras calls out without looking up from his notebook. “Come here; we need your opinion on this.”

  I look around. There’s no one else here.

  Lilith and Andras both turn and face me at the same time. It’s like they share a brain.

  “Yes. Please tell us which one would work better for the party,” Lilith chimes. “We can’t decide.”

  I walk over tentatively. Before today, I wasn’t sure if I even existed in their eyes.

  “Um, sure,” I say. Lilith holds up the shimmering swatches. “They both look like gold to me.”

  “What?” she scoffs. “Clearly this is Honeycomb, and this is Anjou Pear.” She holds them up to my face so I can get a better look.

  “Oh. Well…this one?” I say pointing to the more metallic of the two shades.

  “That’s what I said!” she exclaims.

  “This isn’t Vegas,”
Andras grumbles. “Gold doesn’t have to be gaudy.”

  “It won’t be,” Lilith retorts. “I’m going for old Hollywood glam with a touch of goth.”

  I scan the books and samples sprawled out on the bar top. “This is all for the party?”

  “Yes!” Lilith nods enthusiastically. She sets down the fabric and begins an online search for stemware.

  “You do realize that this is a party to—I don’t know—trap a horde of killer archangels?”

  “We’re aware.” Lilith looks up from the laptop and paints on a tight smile that doesn’t meet her clear, blue eyes. “This might be our last chance to do something like this. I know it’s silly, and our time should be invested in about a billion other things, but if our time on this planet is limited, I think we should make the most of every single second.”

  Her solemn expression, the sadness in her voice…she doesn’t believe they’ll survive this. Words escape me, so I simply nod. I hadn’t even considered how scared they must be, which is saying something considering I can’t imagine them being afraid of anything. And while Lilith and I have had our differences, I can’t deny that she was once my friend. Even if it was all a ruse on her end. I cared for her. And if I’m being honest with myself, I don’t want to see her dead.

  “Besides,” she perks, turning back to the laptop, “wait until you see your dress! You’re going to look so stunning, no man or beast within a fifty mile radius will be able to keep their eyes off you.”

  “She’s right, you know,” Andras adds. “The dress is amazing. And with your newly unveiled Nephilim blood—” He scents the air as if he can smell the essence racing in my veins, “you’ll be downright irresistible.”

  I shiver. I can’t imagine a bunch supernatural creatures sniffing around like I’m their dinner. I hadn’t even thought about that, and now that I have, I’m kinda freaking out about it. Maybe that’s why the Se7en have been so distant with me. At least I hope that’s the only reason.

  “It looks good,” I remark, not sure how to respond. “You guys are doing a great job.”