Kissing fate, p.6
Kissing Fate, page 6
As soon as I throw the pile of blood-soaked rags in the garbage, everything hits, and I need air. I barely hear Zane calling after me as I bolt out the door. I’m at the end of the dock in a blink and my breath hitches in my chest. I drop to my knees and dry heave as harsh sobs constrict my chest.
I grip the edge of the wood and glimpse myself in the water. My violet eyes nearly glow with tears and each one that hits the surface ripples my ugly cry even more.
Zane did that for me.
I wipe my face, attempting to get control, but it’s not happening. Not with the knowledge he’s given his life, his mind, and now his arm for me. So why the hell do I still feel uneasy?
I close my eyes and the image of him impaling my mother haunts me, followed by his powerful hands crushing my throat with that hateful glare as he squeezed the life out of me.
Heaven wedged doubt so far down in my soul that I can feel its poison spreading through me. Another tear drops into the water and a shadow falls over me. I stiffen as Zane’s reflection steps closer.
I wipe my face, pulling the shattered pieces back together before I climb to my feet and turn. He still is something to behold, like a knight right out of a dream. There he stands, with his shirt still unbuttoned and clinging to his sweat-kissed skin, his golden necklace gleaming in the sun, making him look like a fucking god. It’s unfair that even as pale as he is, he can still make the most attractive of men look homely.
Just the fact he came to check on me hammers my insides and another round of tears seeps out of the corner of my eyes.
He crosses and runs his good hand into my hair, pulling me to his mouth. His tender kiss melts me and hurts at the same time because I’m still questioning his loyalties.
I’m done wallowing in my confusion. I need to ignore that nagging voice that Heaven put into my head, because I want to trust Zane. I have a choice: let their poison cloud my perception, or let it go. That man choking me in Papa’s basement was their puppet, not this immortal kissing me as if I’m his entire world.
Mental chains inside me shatter as the freedom of choice rings through my soul. I choose Zane, despite what those bastards tried to do.
I break the kiss and push him away with renewed energy. “We still have work to do before we can focus on whatever is between us.” I wipe my face, focusing on winning this war. “Like you learning to conjure your scythe.”
“I don’t have the energy for that right now.” His thumb caresses my cheek as he searches my eyes, pleading for a reprieve.
That’s exactly what the angels are hoping for. For us not to be at our sharpest.
“Well, find it, because they already know they can’t pull you back into the Other. Mandy bought us some time by hiding your hand somewhere, but once they figure out where we are, they’ll be sending their worst to bring us into their control.” I bite my lower lip and stare him down. “You’re the one who said they won’t stop. So, suck it up, and let’s get to work.”
Kissing Fate Chapter 8
ZANE’S FACE IS RED with concentration as he stares at the staff in his right hand. He successfully conjured it from his necklace before the sun set over the mountains a few hours ago.
The report of gunfire makes both of us jerk and turn. We had parked ourselves in the burned-out husk of Paradise Cove to practice and prepare for a battle we both know is coming. Apparently, those in the house with firearms decided dusk was a good time for practicing on the gun range in the woods on the far side of the property, too. It really puts a damper on Zane’s ability to concentrate.
Zane’s brow creases in irritation after like the twentieth shot. “Don’t they know bullets won’t do anything to an angel?”
“No. But those with certain sigils carved in them or spells cast on the bullets can, so I imagine they’d rather be sure of their aim because missing could prove disastrous.”
His gaze swivels to mine. “How do you know that?”
“We should talk.” I lower to sit on the ground and pat the space next to me.
He lays the scythe out in front of him and joins me.
“A lot happened while you were gone.” I pick at a hangnail, trying to figure out how to word the things I’ve been keeping close to the vest.
He leans away from me, studying my profile. “There’s someone else?”
I laugh and shake my head. “No, Zane. There has been no one else.”
The creases of worry lining his forehead smooth out. But instead of relief, they are replaced by sadness. “You...waited for me?”
I meet his gaze and rolled my eyes. “I’ve been on one date since you died.” I shrug. “Holly begged me to go out on a double date with her and one of her boyfriend’s friends.” I shiver just thinking about the greasy goon who tried to kiss me at the movies. I nearly knocked him out. “It was a disaster. But that is not what I need to talk to you about.” I conjure his scythe back onto his necklace because I’m uncomfortable with it sitting within reach, as if the damn thing is calling for me somehow.
He cocks an eyebrow that I ignore. “What kind of disaster?”
I close my eyes and tilt my head back with a groan. “I broke his nose because he tried to kiss me, okay?”
Zane snorts laughter. “Really?”
“Yes. I heel-punched him right in the nose.” My lips twitch into a smile. “And I didn’t talk to Holly for a week after that.”
His guffaw echoes off the lake. “I wish I had been there to see that.”
“That’s not what I want to talk about right now.” I smack his chest lightly with the back of my knuckles. “I had a lot of training while you were gone.”
He’s still laughing. “I would have never guessed.”
He’s mocking me and I narrow my eyes. “I have a chemical engineering degree.” I spit out the least of my educational endowments.
His laughter winds down. “Wait. You went to college?” He sits back and studies me. “Why?”
“Well, to get a job for one, considering I had no idea how long I was going to be here. I needed to hold my own. As a matter of fact, Holly and I have a nice, cozy apartment in Portland.” I flip my hair over my shoulder.
“I was wondering why she wasn’t here,” he says, giving me all of his focus.
“She doesn’t know about any of this unless Alex and Faith called her. But I would think they’d want her as far away from harm’s reach as possible. I’m sure my phone has dozens of text messages from her by now, but my phone is in my car in Papa’s driveway.” I poke his chest. He’s the reason I don’t have it on me.
He nods, searching my eyes as if he’s trying to get a glimpse of my soul. “But getting a degree and a job isn’t what you want to tell me.”
“I’m supercharged.”
“No shit.”
“No, I mean angel blood supercharged.” I point toward the house. “So are Tom and Papa’s dad. Papa thought we should be fully prepared in the event the angels attacked, so he shared a bit of his power with us. And let me tell you, that was a bear to control.” I laugh lightly. “Someday I’ll have to tell you the stories of that training, but for now, you knowing is enough. Plus, I learned how to cast spells and read those ancient spell books. Raven is a phenomenal teacher. Although the one she taught me to stun an attacker didn’t really work on the griffin.”
His slow smile of appreciation warms the chill right out of my bones. “I was wondering what the hell you were doing,” he says. “But I just thought it was something Fate related.”
I smile. “And Kylee schooled me in sigils.” My smile fades at the mention of Kylee Andreas. “She made a book of every single sigil she ever ran across, along with what it does and how to counteract it. The book is probably still sitting on Faith’s coffee table unless she grabbed it on her way out. The sigil on your wrist was in that book. So, essentially Kylee saved you from the angels.”
His frown deepens, and he glances at his bandaged stump. “And here, all I learned in ten years is how to die horribly and kill without mercy.” He looks out at the water, haunted by his own thoughts.
“You were able to call your scythe,” I say, leaning into his field of vision.
He sends a sideways glance at me and then studies the moonlight dancing on the surface of the cove. Silence descends on us while he works whatever out in his head. “So, you were the one who threw me against the wall in Papa’s basement?” He slides his gaze to mine.
“Yes. And burned your hands when you were holding me on the ground in Purgatory.”
“So, you really could kick my ass from here to California and back.” Half his lips curl into a lopsided grin.
I finally allow a genuine smile to form, and his eyes nearly glow in the darkness.
“Come here.” He grabs my arm, pulling me into his lap.
This time I don’t fight him, especially not when he delivers a kiss that sends tendrils of heat through my body. I wrap my legs around his waist, locking them behind him. I can feel his hardness beneath me as our sensual tongue dance turns more insistent. I thread my hands into his hair and circle my hips against him.
I’m not sixteen anymore. If for some reason the universe ends tomorrow, I want to know what it’s like to be with Zane and not in that oh-so-innocent waking in his arms crap we spouted out ten years ago.
Zane groans under my lips as if he reads my intent. His hand slides from my hip, up my body until he cups my breast through the leather corset I am still wearing.
I have an advantage. His shirt is already unbuttoned, and with a handful of his hair, I pull his head back far enough for my lips to capture his throat. I run my tongue up the line of his neck until I reach his earlobe. Gently, I nibble, chuckling softly at the noise of contentment coming from his mouth.
“I dreamed of this,” he whispers. “You in my arms. For years, it was the last conscious memory before I faded into the black. You. And those bastards somehow erased you from my mind.”
He grips the back of my neck and turns, laying me out on the dried moss as he lays the bulk of his weight on me. He winces when his bound arm knocks against the ground, but he shifts and uses his elbow to prop himself up. The hunger sparkling in his eyes matches my own.
“I’d like to—”
A throat clears at the entrance to the cove.
Zane looks up with guilt written all over his face, as if we are still teenagers and have been caught in this compromising position. He rolls off too quickly and yelps as he puts weight on the stump of his arm.
“I’m sorry for interrupting,” Mandy says. “But we have a problem.”
I climb to my feet and offer Zane a hand in getting to his.
“What’s the problem?” he asks, clearly annoyed at the interruption.
“The angels are coming.”
I wave my hand in Zane’s direction, and the scythe pops back into existence. Zane grabs it as I launch into a run toward the cottage and whatever hell the angels have decided to deliver.
Kissing Fate Chapter 9
I CLEAR THE WOODS, with Zane and Mandy following closely behind. Holly is just getting out of her car when I see a shadow approaching her.
“Holly!” I yell, but it’s too late. A silver glint swipes across her throat, and even in the darkness, the plume of blood that spurts out from both sides of her neck is clear enough for my vision to go as black as that jet of life juice.
Zane’s father stands in the light with a deadly grin.
The Book of Fates on my wrist dings. “No!” I bellow and send every ounce of power toward him. Like a steamroller at warp speed, the power that Papa gave me rolls across the lawn, smashing trees and cars before it slams his father into the trunk of an ancient oak tree.
I hold him against it as I advance, crushing him with each stomp. My veins burn with rage.
Zane bolts ahead of me with the scythe raised in his hand. The growling yell that fills the space seems to calm my fury to a manageable level. When he approaches his father, he slows long enough to swing the scythe like a baseball bat. It slices the bastard’s torso in half and his rotted intestines spill out.
I turn to Mandy. “Take him to Hell.”
She grins and bows. “With pleasure.”
Holly’s glazed eyes stare sightlessly at the sky and the wail that comes from the door echoes my feelings. I fall to my knees and take her already cooling form into my arms, rocking her as tears spill on her upturned face.
Nana slides to a stop and before I can tell her it’s too late, she presses her healing kiss on Holly’s forehead and then looks at me. “Bring her back,” she says.
I haven’t brought anyone back to life since I was Death and Fate all rolled into one. I close my eyes. “Bring me her spirit,” I whisper.
The air shimmers and one of the newer reapers stands near, but she doesn’t have the light I expect.
“They got her before I could. It’s like they were waiting. Like they expected bloodshed and death.”
I am stunned and furious at the same time. My gaze jumps to the tree and then back. My stomach drops. “Did Mandy get through?”
She glances at the ground and shakes her head.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” I cry and hop to my feet, spinning around in a circle as more people pile out of the house. “Papa, we need that barrier!” Zane had been on the money. Those bastards sent his father to do their dirty work.
Another gunshot rings in the distance and we all spin toward the shooting range. When four more shots ring out in quick succession and the lights in the shooting range flicker and die, I’m already running.
“Get everyone inside,” I order, and then twirl my finger and point to Papa. “Set your force field to kill on contact,” I add.
He nods and gathers Holly’s limp body in his arms, and heads for the door, with Nana and Faith huddled together.
I focus on the woods, slowing down. My hope that Steve Williams is using the enhanced bullets is low. He’s much more practical than that, and normal bullets won’t do a damn thing to a ghost, as Zane so accurately pointed out.
I trade a glance with Zane as we match stride for stride together. A part of me wishes he would have stayed in the safety zone Papa is creating. “We can’t go charging inside after this. Papa’s barrier kills, mortal or otherworldly, so we have to be very careful.”
I cross into the open clearing and there stands Zane’s father with that smile I want to burn off his face. The angels must have intercepted Mandy. They were the only ones that could have repaired the damage Zane did before sending him back to do their dirty work.
Zane’s father has Agent Williams on his knees, with a gun pressed to Steve’s temple. The click of an empty magazine sounds, and Steve yanks away from his grip, sweeping Zane’s father’s legs from beneath him, before he rolls out of the bastard’s reach.
I envision an electrified net made of metal anchored into the ground around Zane’s father. It forms over him as quickly as a sandcastle being demolished by a giant wave, trapping him underneath.
He thrashes and hisses as the net delivers just the right amount of electricity to cause excruciating pain. As we walk by, Steve reaches out, catching Zane’s leg. We both gasp, and so does Steve Williams.
That’s when I see the spreading red on his shirt and the top of his jeans. We missed it earlier because he was bathed in the shadows. He opens his mouth, but blood bubbles up, gagging on whatever warning he’s trying to give us. He had already been shot before we got here, and touching Zane relieves the pain of the bullets shredding his insides.
Zane and I trade a glance before he crouches down and leans the scythe on his shoulder in order to take Steve’s hand. There is a softness and compassion in that motion that tightens my throat. He is ensuring the least amount of suffering given the current circumstances.
I conjure the only thing that will guarantee Zane’s father will never come back from the dead to create more devastation. Two deaths in a matter of minutes are two too many.
Heaven’s blade shimmers into existence in my hand. The blue glass of the knife reflects its own light, making the clearing brighter than just the moonlight. I grip the smooth handle, with the blade facing down. All it takes is one nick from this knife to snuff a life right out of existence. Faith used this blade on Lucifer himself. The devil’s death somehow made me possible, and I am glad I possess such a powerful weapon.
His father laughs as he stares up at me. He has no knowledge of what’s coming and all I can hope for is it isn’t painless. I hope he feels the ultimate destruction in every cell. I hope being erased from existence comes with a dose of agony before he ceases.
I glance over my shoulder at Zane, and he nods. I know he wants to inflict more pain on his father. Hell, I do, too, but because I can’t deliver him to Hell like I want, I opt for a more permanent erasure.
I crouch down and smile. “I wouldn’t be so cocky right now.” I hold the blade over his stomach and slam it down through one of the netting holes, careful not to touch the electrified metal. The tip of the blade breaks through the skin of his stomach just enough to draw blood and invoke Heaven’s blade’s wrath.
Before he can react, I pull the blade out and step away, sending the knife back to my ultimate hiding place. One that only I can tap into. It is just as secure as Kylee’s arsenal of ancient weapons in her house in San Diego, mostly because she helped me create it and safeguard Heaven’s blade with the most powerful sigils.
His father still laughs, but the joke is on him. I smile. “You are done.”
His maniacal cackle turns into a curdling scream that echoes through the woods and across the lake. If I had my way, I’d make sure they heard his scream in Heaven itself.
I turn and put distance between myself and the effects of the blade. Neither Zane nor I need to be knocked out by the explosion. I’m not leaving us vulnerable for the angels to swoop in and take over our bodies. And I’m certainly not leaving Steve’s body, either.
