Assassin: Fall of the Golden Valefar (A Paranormal Romance—Book #6 in the Demon Kissed Series) (13 page)

CHAPTER TWENTY

Eric didn’t go looking for Natalia later that night. He
kept to himself, trying to decide what to do with the girl. She was dead if she
had any feelings for him. He was having difficulty resisting her pull. It was
like she was a black hole and there was no escape. Thoughts of Natalia flooded
his mind when they shouldn’t. It was like he was losing control and he didn’t
like it. It put her at risk. And not only that, it could derail the rest of his
plans. The consequences of that were far worse. Eric knew the end of his life
was near. Things were changing too fast. The curse was morphing, changing him
more rapidly than ever before. Horrible things were coming and there was only
one way to stop him. His mind was set, but Natalia. That was the problem…
Natalia.

The day after he killed Thomas passed. Eric felt no
remorse. There was tension in the air during daylight hours that was normally
absent. The people whispered, wondering what could kill such a wealthy man. They
thought that if he failed to escape the monster, then so would they. Those
words haunted him, like a dark sign of things to come.

It was night by the time he headed for the bar. His
thoughts drifted to Natalia as he walked through the abandoned streets. Inky
black shadows, due to the lack of moonlight, made this section of the city seem
more nefarious than usual. When he closed his eyes he saw her. It was like he
could still sense her soft skin brushing against his lips. There was something
about her. Eric craved her like nothing he’d ever known. It was an abnormality
for him.

Eric rolled the little vial between his fingers. It was
nearly empty. Gazing at it in his hand, he watched the clear contents swish
back and forth, before pocketing the potent liquid again. Normal people
wouldn’t risk putting something like that so close to their skin. One drop of
that clear liquid killed, leaving only a golden residue in its wake—but Eric had
already tried a drop or two on his own flesh. The only thing it did was hiss
and
evaporate
. Eric looked down at his hand. A spot on
his wrist, a little circle of gold, marked where he’d dripped the vial on his
arm. Eric rubbed his wrist, trying to erase the mark, but it wouldn’t budge. There
were two of them—twin golden circles that were side by side—like a tattoo.

Eric sat at a counter in the bar, sipping a liquid that did
little to ease his pain. If he downed the whole bottle, it might burn his
throat for half a second before the effects wore off. The curse decimated Eric,
alienating him from everyone, keeping him from feeling anything good without
destroying someone else. In the short time he’d spoken to Lorren, the other
angel who used the Stone, he found some comfort.
 
Being trapped in Hell seemed like a much
better cost than what was thrust upon Eric. But, he shouldn’t complain. Ivy’s
curse was much worse, and she seemed to adapt. If she had everything to do over
again, he knew she would make the same choice—she’d choose the curse and
destroy her own life to save everyone else’s.

At one point Eric had been the same way, but now, after
centuries upon centuries of unending pain... He shook his head, slamming his
glass on the bar. He’d become too dark and twisted. The reasons for his
assassinations weren’t to end his misery, they were to illicit a response to
stop him before it was too late.
Too late for everyone.
He could feel it inside of him and knew it had to be stopped.

Eric had ignored Ivy’s requests to come to her in the
Underworld. He couldn’t admit it to her; he couldn’t tell her how the darkness
was consuming him, making him a million times worse than when he last saw her. It
would be too hard, too horrible.

Before he turned, he felt eyes on his back.
Natalia.
Her voice was soft, uncertain. “Where’ve you been,
friend?” She glided next to him, long hair flowing down her back, a soft sway
to her hips, and slid up onto the stool next to him.

Natalia went looking for Eric. He left her the other night,
and it’d been over a day since they talked—since they kissed. She didn’t want
to act like a head-case, but she felt so different with Eric. Instead of
leaving her empty, she felt—almost happy. And that was just a kiss. She
wondered what more would do, but was too worried to find out. What did it mean?
Nothing ever made her feel that way, and she’d been alive long enough to know. Those
emotions were tossed away in her childhood, centuries ago. It was long before
she realized what she was.

When he didn’t speak, she asked, “I unnerve you, don’t I?”
If he didn’t stop her last night, she didn’t know what would have happened. After
that, Eric darted, and she came back to her senses and tore apart the house
looking for his book, but it was gone. There was no trace of it. She wouldn’t
kill him without it. She didn’t want to believe what she already knew—the
immortal that possessed the book was guilty. Eric was immortal, but he wasn’t
an angel. She still thought there was a chance for him. That he wasn’t the
person she was looking for.

Her teeth caught her bottom lip, tugging on it slightly. Eric
glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. Her long legs were crossed at the
knee. She leaned forward, toward him, her head tipped sideways with her dark
hair spilling over her shoulders. “That’s why you didn’t come back last night. It
was me, wasn’t it?” She swallowed hard. Eric could hear it. Her pulse raced as
her heart thumped loudly in her chest. Slowly, Eric turned to look at her. “You’re
spooked because I liked it, right?” she asked.

When Eric tried to hurt her, Natalia acted like she wanted
it, because she did. There was a part of her brain that was drawn to him, to
his need to inflict pain. She understood him better than he knew. They were two
sides of the same coin. She just couldn’t tell him.

Eric’s eyes slid over her face, lingering on her perfectly
smooth pale pink lips, before answering, “Things can’t be like that with us. That
was a scratch compared to what I normally do, and I don’t want you dead.” His
voice was sincere, soft.

“But, Eric, I—”

“No, Natalia. This can’t be. Why can’t you see that?” There
was a plea in his voice, like he’d come undone if she said the wrong thing.

Natalia’s gaze lingered on his face. He didn’t understand
what she was. Part of her wanted to tell him, to see what he’d do. That was the
crazy part. She swallowed hard, forcing back the surge of insanity. “I see that
you’re worried about me, but Eric—you can’t hurt me.” She reached for his hand,
sliding her palm over his. His skin was smooth and warm. Eric sat perfectly
still, fighting the instinct to rip his hand away and yell at her. The girl had
no sense of self-preservation.

“Eric,” she spoke his name like a caress that was far too
intimate to be spoken at a bar. It was the whispered hush that lovers use when
no one else is around. Eric felt heat rising within him, his skin growing
hotter.

Jerking his hand away, Eric realized his heart was racing. She
completely ensnared him. He wanted her. He wanted to taste her, feel her, and
know her in way that made his breath catch. But it couldn’t be. The best thing
to do was to stay away from her.

He stood; ready to leave and said, “I see it in your eyes,
Nat. I’m not redeemable. There’s nothing here,” he gestured between them,
“there never can be.” He leaned closer to her face, voice deepening, eyes
gleaming like twin fires, “I’m not a lover you’d want. I take what I want, fuck
it and leave it behind, half-dead. And that’s when things end well. There’s
nothing loving. Me and you, it just can’t be.”

She swallowed hard, feeling his warm breath on her skin. His
lips were close enough to kiss and she wanted to taste him again. Just for a
moment. But she wasn’t foolish enough to try. Not now. Not when he was like
this. Eric closed his eyes, ready to look away, when he felt her warm hand on
his face, pulling him back. Her head tipped back slightly.

She looked him in the eye, “Eric, things don’t have to be
this way.”

Eric paused looking into her blue eyes. Natalia’s beauty
was blinding at times. This was one of those times. His mind was telling him to
leave, to walk away, but he couldn’t. His gut reaction was to slam the girl
into the wall and storm out. Instead, he allowed her fingers to caress his
face, watching her as she did it. Several moments passed, or maybe none at all,
but Eric felt weak. He knew he’d give in and let her have her way if he stayed
like this. So, he grabbed her hands, taking both of them in his fists. He
yanked her face toward him. Dark hair swayed behind her as she came to a stop. They
were nose to nose.

“Yes, it does. I’ll kill you, Natalia.” His voice was
seductive and threatening at the same time. Natalia’s heart felt like it was
going to rip out of her chest. Her breath caught in her throat. It felt like
she couldn’t breathe. Eric sensed all these things, but he didn’t stop
speaking. “I’ll make you cry out, beg for mercy, and not give it. I’ll use you,
taking pleasure in your pain until your soul leaves your body. That’s what I
truly am.”

“No,” she whispered trying to pull away, but Eric wouldn’t
let her. There was more she wanted to say, but he wouldn’t listen.

Tightening his grip, Eric said, “Look at me. See it in my
eyes. I’m telling you the truth. I’ve killed every woman who’s ever loved me. Each
and every one died horrifically. And the ones that were just toys, something to
fuck to pass the time
… ,
” his heart was racing, the
memory of Jocelyn fresh in his mind. “I’ll kill you. It’s a fact, not a
threat.” He released her and turned to leave, throwing money back on the bar
top. The coins clattered loudly, shocking Eric back to reality. Every ounce of
him wanted her. How did this happen?

Natalia’s jaw
hung
 
open
as Eric spoke. She couldn’t wrap
her mind around what he was saying, but part of her knew it was the truth. He
was dangerous. He was death. But so was she. Natalia jumped to her feet,
following him outside. She yelled at his back in the darkened alley way, “Eric,
wait!” He couldn’t walk away. Natalia wanted to scream. She was so close and
everything was going to be lost because she couldn’t control her lust, her
thirst—for him! She tried to compel him to stay, but her charms didn’t work on
him. Normally, she could hold a man in place with her gaze alone, but Eric was
wild, and defiant. Like her. She needed him. She wanted him.

Eric stopped. His hands were in his pockets, his head
hanging between his shoulders. Her pulse was pounding in her ears when he
turned back and looked at her. It drove her crazy when he looked at her like
that. He didn’t speak, but he didn’t have to. She could see it on his face, in
his eyes, and every inch of his body. “I know you don’t want to be what you
are. I can see it, but Eric...” she paused carefully choosing her words, “if
you’d let me, I could help you.”

“If you think there’s help for me, you’re already dead.” Eric
turned away from her, and continued walking. His form was absorbed by shadows
as he disappeared into the night.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Natalia pushed through the wooden door to her home, alone. Eric
was beyond cryptic tonight. She threw her jacket on a chair and crossed the
marble floor, rounding the collapsed staircase, and going straight into her
room. She pulled back the painting, pinning the velvet so she could see his
whole face.

The strong
lines of his jaw, the
smoothness of his cheek, and the beauty of his face wasn’t
what drew her
to him. It was his eyes—his haunted eyes. They were like pools of gold,
endlessly beautiful and equally deadly. They burned with such intensity that
she often had to look away. After all this time, she knew what he was. She was
certain of it. The compulsion to follow him, the desire to be with him grew
louder and more pressing. It was difficult to ignore. It was impossible to
leave him alone.

He was distracting her from her task. There was one thing
she needed—one thing she wanted—and she hadn’t been able to get her hands on
it. Natalia was so close to the book last night before he left. She held it in
her hands, eager to read the pages, but the pages disappeared again when Eric
left. It was like he was the only one who could retrieve them. She pulled apart
her bedroom, remembering he went into the rubble to get it, but there was
nothing—just crushed house, torqued iron, and enough dust to build a shopping
mall. She’d been so close!

Natalia pulled at her hair as she flopped back onto her
bed. “What the hell is wrong with me?” She was speaking to no one, not
expecting an answer. She lay on her bed, facing the ceiling for a while. In all
honesty, she had every expectation of heeding Eric’s warning. It didn’t matter
what his kiss did to her. It didn’t matter that she craved the kind of
attention he gave her. She was going to stay away from him. Failing to do so
would decrease her life expectancy severely. And Natalia was a survivor. She
wanted to live.

Nat rolled over onto her stomach. Her eyes went wide. Was
that his book? It was! Eric’s massive book was
laying
on the dresser. She stared at the fat binding, startled. It wasn’t there a
moment ago. She sat up in her bed, looking around, wondering if he was there.

“Eric?” she called his name, waiting to hear his voice, but
she was alone.

Natalia sat still, staring at the book from across the
room. Eric was so secretive, but he must have pulled it out and left it for
her. Why would he do that? He knew she could read his
script,
his code that he was so sure was unbreakable. Hesitant, she got up and padded
across the room to the book.

This was her chance. She would know for certain what
happened. If this was the book of legend then Eric was the man she was looking
for. There was only one way to find out. Heart racing she reached out and
touched the book. Her heart hammered in her chest like it might harm her. Part
of her thought Eric might
appear,
that this was a
trick. She slid her fingers over the cover feeling the smooth worn leather.
When nothing happened—when Eric didn’t appear and rip it out of her hands—she
cracked the cover open and began to read.

______________

Eric had too much trouble leaving Natalia. He was getting
attached to her. No, it was more than that, so much more than an attachment. It
wasn’t just that he liked the look of her. It wasn’t that her body curved just
the way he liked. It was her. It was Natalia. He was trying to warn her away,
but the more he tried, the more attached the girl seemed to get. He needed to
warn her off once and for all, so he left his book on her dresser. Part of him
hated the idea of letting her read it. Eric didn’t like his life and that book
contained the good and the bad. It was his notes to himself. They contained the
most hideous acts he’d committed, and the most noble. He shook his head, his
golden hair falling into his eyes.

If she didn’t stay away after reading that, she never
would. There was no woman in her right mind that would trust him after reading
its contents. Not after reading with her own eyes, seeing it written by his own
hand, how much he reveled in pain—how much it soothed him to hear a woman
scream and beg him for mercy. It twisted him from what he was, hardening him,
making it more difficult to hold onto any scrap of light that might have been
left within his soul.

After all this time, Eric finally accepted that having a
soul didn’t keep him from becoming a monster—it only made it easier. The
cravings of his soul, the desire to put back what was broken beyond repair,
spurred him to do things he never thought he’d do. There was no redemption, no
absolution for someone like him. Every day only led to darker paths, with more
blood, more pain, and more suffering. It was these things that gave him
pleasure, and although Eric knew it was evil, he couldn’t stop.

He waited as he usually did, in the man’s bedchamber. The
desire to feel blood on his hands consumed Eric. Natalia had left him in such a
state of lust that every animalistic instinct he had, came rushing forward. It
was earlier than he planned, but this murder would sate him. He’d be able to
repress the lust that was compelling him toward the girl, at least for a little
while longer. Eric couldn’t resist her, and he knew if he was foolish enough to
take her, the most compassionate thing to do was destroy her. His logic felt
flawed, but he could no longer understand why. Thoughts like these should have
sickened him, but they didn’t. They seemed logical now, necessary.

The door
creaked
 
open
. Two men in suits came through,
ear-pieces wired to their heads like robots. Eric spoke a word, disabling the
security equipment before killing the men. When the second man finally fell to
the carpet, dead, Eric moved them out of sight. This was the bedroom of the
most powerful man in the world. He knew there would be more guards, more
security. He knew this assassination would be more difficult, but it was
necessary.

The door was still
wide
 
open
when the President strode into the
room, followed by two additional guards behind him. Eric had to act quickly and
destroy all three at once. He closed his eyes and called on his powers before
they saw him. Without a sound, Eric cast the shadows at the three men, looping
them around and around their torsos like snakes. Before he had a chance to
finish his spell, one of the guards managed to fire his weapon. The gunshot grazed
Eric’s arm slicing it open. That shot would bring more guards upon him in
seconds. Eric’s heart raced, but the thought only made him more determined to
finish what he started.

Commanding the shadows, he ordered them to constrict,
crushing the men. The air was forced out of their lungs, rendering them mute. Eric
basked in their agony, feeling life by life being squeezed away. That was the moment
he craved. It was that moment he needed, and he wanted to draw it out. But,
something inside of him refused to allow him to do so. These men had done
nothing wrong, at least as far as Eric was concerned. They were a means to an
end. They had to die for him to get what he wanted, and he wanted it so badly,
so desperately that he’d do anything. This was the final straw, the catalyst
that would cause Ivy’s wrath to come crushing down. It was too important to
ignore. The angels would not allow Eric to go unpunished. He was forcing Ivy’s
hand. It was the only way.

With a final devastating squeeze, Eric heard their ribs
crack as the life was crushed from their limp bodies. He quickly retracted the
shadows. The entire act took less than a second, and they were no more. Stepping
towards the lifeless bodies, Eric extracted the vial. Three drops fell, one for
each man.

As the drops hissed, he fled—effonating out of sight—but he
wasn’t fast enough. More guards appeared in the open doorway with their weapons
drawn. Eric’s eyes locked with the barrel of the gun. A shot was fired directly
into his stomach before his body disappeared, taking the bullet with him.