Wicked Kiss by Michelle Rowen
I fall to my knees, reaching out to grab James’s arm, hoping to shake him awake so we can get out of here. I’ve survived whatever the hell that was and I’ll be damned if I’ll let anyone hurt my brother. He’s always been there for me and I’d give my own life to save his.
To save him from our own mother, who doesn’t care if we live or die.
“Good,” Kara says, smiling again. “It’s done.”
“What’s done?” I grit out.
“You’ll kill them for me, my darling. Every last one who’s ever done me harm or stood in my way.”
“I’ll kill nobody for you. I dig up your dead bodies, but I don’t make them dead.”
Her expression hardens. “You’ll do exactly as I say now, child. Stand up.”
I stand up as if there are strings attached to my shoulders.
Her eyes are so cold they freeze me in place. “You’ve made me very angry, Adam. You made me sacrifice my favorite son. You’ve made me sacrifice you.”
“Sacrifice?” I frown, confused. Frightened. “But I’m still here. I’m still breathing.”
“I wanted to protect you because I loved your father. You took that from me. You gave me no other choice. I take revenge toward those who’ve done me wrong. You’ve now done me wrong, Adam, my sweet. So now you will kill my enemies one by one without hesitation, without question. And tomorrow, when I’ve ensured he’s forgotten all about his little visit down here, you will kill James. You will kill him as your punishment so you have no one left alive who cares for you. No one who wants to help you. Do you understand me?”
I stare at her with horror. “Mother, no...”
“Say it, Adam. Say it!”
Just as the ashes wrapped around my throat, now something invisible tightens in their place, leaving me cold and empty and unable to fight. My mind fogs—the past unclear, the present hazy, the future entirely at her command. “Tomorrow I will kill James. For you, Kara.”
She smiles again. “That’s my good boy.”
I will do whatever she tells me to. I have no choice.
No choice.
She’s damned me every bit as much as she’s damned my brother.
Chapter 34
Snap!
Both Bishop and Kraven let go of me at the same time and staggered backward. It had all been so real. As if I was Bishop, experiencing every painful emotion, every horrible thought. I felt his fear, his disgust and his inability to resist whatever dark magic his mother and her friends had performed on him.
Symbols drawn in blood. The darkness and evil in the ashes rising up and taking him over, clouding his memories, but leaving him conscious enough of what he was doing. Just not why he did it.
“It was supposed to be me,” Kraven whispered. “But that selfish, murderous bitch didn’t care in the end, as long as it got done. She made me forget being down there with them, but now I’ve seen it. I’ve seen it all.”
Bishop’s expression was stone, but there was something in his eyes that worried me. What he’d been forced to remember, forced to see, had unhinged him. I reached for him, hoping to lend him some sanity, but there was no spark of energy this time when I touched his skin. He looked down at where my fingers curled around his wrist, his expression grim.
“Wasn’t sure when that would stop working. Guess it’s tonight.”
“Bishop, no.” Guilt lanced through me. “I shouldn’t have done it. I shouldn’t have done the memory meld. It must have messed this up.”
“I think it’s just a coincidence and was bound to happen sooner or later. But my mind...” He pressed his hands to either side of his head and swore under his breath. “It’s getting worse by the minute.”
Kraven had gone silent, watching us from the shadows as if we were complete strangers. “How long do you have before you lose it completely?”
“Don’t know. Not long.”
The demon’s expression was guarded, untrusting. “I don’t know what to think right now. How do I know if any of that was real? Maybe you’re lying to me, trying to manipulate me.”
I shot him a look. “I guess that’s something you’re going to have to work out for yourself. But if you ask me, it was real. Totally real. And if there’s somebody you should hate, it’s your mother.”
“Believe me, I’m way ahead of you on that one.”
“What happened wasn’t Bishop’s fault. And it wasn’t your fault, either. You thought he killed you of his own free will to get some sort of Heavenly reward. Well, guess what, James? You were wrong. And for a hundred years you’ve hated the one person who would have done anything for you.”
He just stared at me bleakly before turning away and going into the church without another word.
“So he chooses avoidance when faced with the truth,” I muttered. “Not a huge surprise.”
“I need to talk to Connor,” Bishop said, his voice hoarse. “I can’t get sidetracked by any of this. Not now. If what he said about your father is true, then we need a plan in place to deal with it.”
He was right. The many problems between the brothers weren’t going to be fixed in a few minutes. Even with the truth about Bishop still playing like a movie in my head, I knew I had to stay focused.
“This isn’t over yet, you know,” I told him. “None of it, so don’t lose hope. You can still be fixed.”
“There’s no fallen angel who’s ever been welcomed back to Heaven.”
“You’re no normal fallen angel, Bishop.” I actually smiled at that as I pulled him closer to me. What I’d seen had been horrible, but it had set my mind at ease about him being evil. “Seriously, you’re the most abnormal guy I’ve ever met in my life.”
His lips twitched. “Thanks. I think.”
Bishop went back into the church, but I stood out there for a few more minutes trying to breathe. Trying to stay calm. Trying not to get overwhelmed.
Yeah. Good luck with that.
It had been exhausting, but if there was one thing I’d done right tonight, it was to show Kraven and Bishop the truth. What they’d do with it after so many years of bad blood between them, I honestly didn’t know.
As I turned toward the door to go back inside and join the others, something caught my eye. Somebody was walking along the sidewalk on the other side of the road without sparing a glance toward the church.
It was Roth.
Despite our many issues, my heart ached for him. It was only last night that Cassandra had been lost to the Hollow—torn right out of his arms.
Is this what he’d been doing ever since? Walking the city all alone?
I needed to talk to him, to tell him to come back to St. Andrew’s to be with people who cared about him, who might be able to help him with his grief.
Before he turned the corner up ahead, I started after him. I was about to call out his name when a hand clamped down on my shoulder.
A scream caught in my throat and I spun around to face...Jordan.
“Hey,” she said, her brows drawn together. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“Uh...I need to—”
“You’re just going to leave me here with the Three Stooges? By the way, for three hot guys, they are seriously weird, and not just because they’re all supernatural. If you’re leaving, so am I.”
Roth was getting farther away and I couldn’t let him out of my sight. I grabbed Jordan’s arm and started walking fas
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“I need to talk to Roth.”
The demon was fifty yards ahead of us and moving fast. “Doesn’t look like he wants to talk to you.”
“I need to help him.”
“From what I’ve heard tonight, you need to be a little more concerned with helping yourself.” She glanced to the left to see the outline of downtown, including skyscrapers and office buildings. The glow from the sign on the side of the massive St. Edward’s hospital lit up the night.
“Thank you for your opinion.”
Her gaze tracked behind us and there was something about her expression. Something wounded and lost.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“He’s close.”
“Who’s close?” Then I grimaced. “Are you talking about Stephen?”
She inhaled sharply. “Who else? He’s around, Samantha. I can feel it.”
I hesitated, knowing this was a dangerous subject to get into with Jordan. “It was rough for a couple days there, but I honestly don’t think he’s going to try to hurt you again, if that’s what you’re afraid of.”
“I should hate him.”
“You have every right to feel that way.”
Her arms were crossed tightly over her chest and I couldn’t help but notice her eyes were now glistening. “I’m not like those girls who are into guys who treat them like crap. I see it all the time, some of my friends are so pathetic when it comes to loser guys who obviously don’t really love them. They cheat on them, hurt them, treat them like garbage, borrow money from them and never pay them back...and yet as soon as the guy texts, they’re all excited again. Pathetic.”
“I have to agree.”
“I’m not like that.”
“Trust me, Jordan. I don’t believe you’re like that, either.”
A tear slipped down her cheek and she angrily wiped it away. “Then why can’t I hate him?”
My heart twisted. “I guess because real love’s not that easy to destroy.”
“That’s really stupid.”
“Yeah, it is.” I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “But you need to prepare yourself. Things aren’t going to get better for him. His soul is gone. He’s a gray—possibly the last one in the city. If the guys find him, it’s their mission to kill him. He’s a threat and he can’t be helped.”
“There has to be a way,” she whispered.
“I wish there was.”
She looked directly at me as we continued to walk. “Do you really mean that?”
I nodded. “I really do.”
And then I slammed right into Roth’s chest.
“Following me?” he asked when I realized what had happened.
He’d stopped walking, turned around to watch our approach, and I hadn’t noticed a damn thing since I’d been discussing Jordan’s love life, which was, quite possibly, even more complicated than my own.
I searched his face, my heart pounding hard. “Roth, I’m glad you stopped. You need to come back to the church. The guys are worried about you.”
“What about you, Samantha?” His face twisted into an unpleasant smile. “Are you worried, too?”
His tone could easily be described as the opposite of friendly.
“Actually, yes. I am. Look, I know what happened last night was horrible. It was hard for all of us. But you need to—”
“Shh.” He pressed his index finger to his lips. “Do you hear that?”
I stopped and listened. “Hear what?”
“Me not caring about your opinion. But thank you for attempting to give it to me anyway. Do you think you can fix everything with a few words? You’re a teenager, barely out of diapers. You could never understand how I feel. And I don’t really want you to try. Okay?” His cruel grin stretched. “But I am really glad you followed me, even if you brought a friend. Won’t matter in the end, I suppose.”
“And I thought the other demon was a jerk.” Jordan eyed Roth with distaste. “Color me wrong.”
I frowned. “You’re glad I followed you? What are you talking about?”
“He said you’d follow me.” Roth shrugged. “And here we are. Right where I said I’d bring you.” He turned around in a slow circle. “Okay, she’s here. I did what you asked. Let’s get on with it.”
I suddenly realized where we were. It was a grocery store—or at least, it used to be. It had closed down, the sign broken, the parking lot a large expanse of concrete and dark emptiness.
I’d seen this place before—it was in my vision.
My throat tightened. “What’s going on? Who wanted you to bring me here?”
A lone streetlamp still worked and cast a long shadow as the figure approached from the darkness. Other lamps along the street were broken or flickering.
“Beautiful star,” Seth said, a smile wide on his face. “You’re here. I’m glad.”
Part of me relaxed at seeing it was only him. The other part didn’t relax at all. Just the opposite. Especially after him having a starring role in my after-death experience. “Seth...what are you doing here? You know Roth?”
He raised an eyebrow and glanced at the demon. “It’s a very recent development, but yes.”
I scanned the length of the fallen angel. His clothes were dusty and torn, just like usual. His beard seemed even thicker than the last time I’d seen him, the night we’d been at Ambrosia. The strange marks on his arms I’d noticed before had grown even darker and larger. They also trailed up his throat now.
“Um, who is this dude?” Jordan asked, scrunching her nose.
“This—this is Seth,” I said. “He’s a fallen angel who’s been in Trinity a long time. Seth, this is Jordan.”
“Charmed,” Jordan said as insincerely as possible. She eyed Seth as if he was something she’d found stuck to the bottom of her shoe. “Can we wrap this up? I really want to get back to my car and go home. I suddenly feel the need to have a long shower.”
“Seth, what’s going on?” I asked. “You never stick around very long to answer my questions, but I have a lot of them. Why did you want Roth to bring me to you? What do you need to tell me? Have you seen something that might help us?”
“Help,” he murmured. “Yes, that’s what this is about. I’m glad to see you’re better now. All fixed. All improved. Much more useful to me this way.”
A churning had started inside me. There was something going on here. Something worse than it seemed. Why couldn’t I figure out what it was?
Probably because of the one thing I’d always valued most about myself—my ability to be a realist. Even now that I knew that there were strange and magical things in this world happening all the time all around us, I refused to totally accept it. I needed proof. Needed evidence to support the data.
I thought I’d be a writer one day. Maybe a nonfiction one where facts counted more than fantasy. But that’s where my head had been for seventeen years. And right now, it wasn’t doing me any favors.
I had to think beyond what my eyes told me.
Right now, it had to be my gut I listened closest to.
“I dreamed about you,” I said, my mouth dry. “When I was dead for twenty minutes. My unconscious mind conjured you up in particular—all clean and well-dressed and totally sane. Why you?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Seth replied.
“That makes two of us, hobo guy.
“You’re not going anywhere,” Roth told her.
She gave him a withering look. “You really are a jerk, aren’t you?”
“You have no idea.”
“What’s your deal, anyway? Are you working for this weirdo?”
“You could say that.”
I frowned at Roth. “What does that mean? If you know Seth, why wouldn’t you bring him back to meet the rest of the team? He could help Bishop—they’re both fallen angels with souls to deal with.”
“It’s strange, really,” Seth mused, stroking his beard absently. “Almost funny.”
I tensed. I’d decided to listen to my gut and right now it was telling me something very important. Seth didn’t sound all that crazy tonight. And Seth always sounded crazy—except in my dream.
I looked directly at him. “What’s strange?”
“Why did you assume I was an angel?”
I tried to say something immediately in reply, but faltered. “Well, you told me you were.”
“No. I never said anything like that at all.” He cocked his head, studying me. “You made assumptions based on your dealings with the other angel, the one who occupied your thoughts so much that you barely even noticed me.”
“I sensed your soul.” I frowned, trying to remember what had been said during the first couple of meetings with Seth outside of Crave.
“They’re tricky things, souls. Meant to be a punishment far worse than being destroyed. Humans were meant to have souls. I had a soul when I was human, before I went through the transition and never had a problem with it because it was natural.” He touched his chest. “This one, though, that they seared into me, has always been a challenge. But it’s also been very motivating.”
Seth had been on the streets long enough that there was no helping him with a touch, as I’d been able to do with Bishop up until tonight. His mind had been permanently messed up, his punishment for falling from...Heaven.
Or so I thought.
“Show me your imprint,” I said as firmly as I could. Some things I had to see to understand. To believe. Even when my gut was shouting at me that I already had more than enough proof to know what he really was.