Assassin: Fall of the Golden Valefar (A Paranormal Romance—Book #6 in the Demon Kissed Series) (2 page)

CHAPTER TWO

Eric pulled his dark hood up to obscure his face. After
assassinating the leader of the Martis, he knew that their guard would turn the
city inside out looking for him. With Rome the way it was, burned with entire
sections torn apart so that a person couldn’t even walk down the street, he
knew they would never find him. There was no reason for him to leave the city.

Only a few short years passed since the night the gates of Hell
burst open and Kreturus, King of the Underworld, tore this land apart. It
didn’t matter that Ivy, the object of his desire, was not in the cities he
destroyed. At first, Eric had thought that the damage was isolated to the
eastern coast of the United States. He’d been there when the demon king
arrived, slaughtering to his heart’s content. But, the damage was not contained
to one region or one country. It was everywhere, a worldwide epidemic, an
apocalypse the survivors only whisper of. Speaking of it would only draw
attention to the horror surrounding them.

The humans preferred to act as if nothing happened, even
though there was much evidence to suggest otherwise. Entire sections of once
thriving cities had burned and crumbled. They remained in disrepair, without electricity,
shrouded in darkness. Each city was the same—New York, Paris, Rome, Los
Angeles, London—each metropolis failed to mend, failed to heal. Survivors
wandered the streets with fear in their eyes. It was not the daunting task of
rebuilding that frightened them.
 
It was
the gut-wrenching nightmares that woke them in the dead of night leaving them
covered in cold sweat. They left their cities in shambles because they didn’t
believe the war was over.

People were constantly on edge, glancing over their
shoulders waiting for the next attack. He couldn’t blame them, either. Eric had
lived through countless wars. He understood the fear in their eyes. The rubble
he walked through now was a burial ground. It marked the lives lost, the
absolute decimation of humanity and their inability to fight back.

Remembering that night, Eric pushed his hair back, eyes
narrowing—watching—always watching. The Valefar were everywhere. When Ivy
killed the king, her reign began rather reluctantly, but as the years passed
she found her way. The Valefar had been permitted to remain as they were, but
were forbidden from killing those who did not deserve it. A twisted smile lined
his lips. Although Ivy was their Queen, she was not one of them. She did not
think like the soul-sucking Valefar. They rationalized their actions, carefully
at first as to not draw the attention of the Queen, but over time, they had
grown careless. The Valefar returned to their old ways, killing for pleasure,
stripping away pure souls because it suited them.

The Martis should have slaughtered the Valefar, but they
failed to notice. They failed to do anything. Unlike before, the humans with
angel blood flowing through their veins remained silent, hidden. It was as if
they were waiting for something, plotting their next move. Silence was not a
good thing.

Eric shoved his hands in his pockets as he walked, golden
eyes searching the abandoned storefronts for signs of life. This section of
Rome was the first to burn. The emergency services came with all their trucks
and tried to stop it, so some buildings still stood, charred with great black
stripes of soot clinging to formerly pale walls.

The sun beat down. Eric wiped beads of sweat from his brow.
He knew where he was headed. The broken glass, burned wood, and busted-up road
were warning signs for people of a more peaceful disposition to stay away, but
Eric wasn’t like that. His black boots crushed the rubble under his feet. A few
others moved quickly, darting in and out of abandoned buildings. They were no threat
to him. Eric kept his head down and kept walking, passing landmarks and art all
blasted to bits.

A chill washed over him, despite the balmy temperature. Eric
glanced behind him without turning around. Looking into a piece of cracked
glass on the side mirror of an abandoned car, he could see a lone figure, small
and demure, in the distance. He didn’t change his pace or alert the figure that
he was aware of their presence. Eric continued to walk, but altered his path. If
he was being followed, he didn’t want anyone to find out where he was going. Turning
sharply, he moved down an ancient alleyway. The steps that rose to connect this
street with the upper one were smashed to bits. The buildings leaned close together,
nearly blocking the path. It looked as if they could fall at any moment. Eric
bounded up the stairs, jumping over the rubble. The path twisted and turned
until he was out in the open. He glanced over his shoulder. The small figure
that was trailing him was gone. Eric wanted to
effonate
,
but he still felt eyes on him, so he didn’t. He didn’t want to reveal his true
nature, and effonating would do just that.

Eric continued walking until he reached the back of an old
tavern. A fallen statue crushed the front entrance to the bar, making it impassable,
but the back entrance off the alley was still intact and still in use. Eric
pushed through the door and walked to the bar. The room was dark, the way it
was before the demons attempted to take over. Since then, people were afraid of
the dark. Somehow, they thought light would keep them safe if the demons came
back.

Survivors still didn’t understand what happened the night
the gates of Hell swung open. They ascribed all sorts of theories as to what
occurred, but none were correct. None supposed an ancient demon, hell-bent on leaving
the Underworld and taking over this one, broke free to massacre the angels and conquer
their realm. No one thought such things were true, even after seeing demons
with their own eyes. They chose to create other explanations, things that they
could fathom—explanations that didn’t contradict their beliefs.

Eric leaned heavily on the bar, before sitting on an old
stool. Reaching up, he pushed his hood back. The barkeep nodded at him once,
and slid him clear liquid in a small glass. Eric reached out and grabbed it
before it went flying off the end of the bar. It would do little for him. Eric
already knew that, but the liquor in that tiny cup still burned as it slid down
his throat. If he drank it fast enough, he could feel a little of the alcohol’s
effects, but that was all. There was no way to lose
himself
in the bottom of a bottle. Besides, he wasn’t here for the alcohol this time. It
was a cover, a guise to check in on something—someone.

A few lanterns flickered in the dark room. Electricity was
never fully restored to this section of the city. Eric nodded at the bartender,
who kept his distance.
Smart man.
Out of the corner of
his eye, Eric could see two men talking at the other end of the room. They were
nursing drinks, as they spoke in whispers. Their hushed voices wouldn’t have
been heard by mortal ears, but Eric wasn’t mortal.

The round man had stubble on his jowls and his back was
ramrod straight. Gripping his mug so tightly that his hands shook, he leaned
closer, whispering, “That’s what they said. At least that’s the way I heard it.
Crazy, right?”
His copious eyebrows inched up to
accentuate his point.

His companion was dressed to be forgotten. He looked like
everyone and no one at all. There was nothing unique about him, but Eric had
seen him before. People like that needed to be watched closer. The man nodded
once, slowly, as if he couldn’t believe his ears. “Yeah, that’s…” he shook his
head, looking side to side, and then back at the fat man, “No bodies?
Nothing?”

The first man shook his head, “Nothing. There was nothing
at all, except a bunch of burn marks. That’s why no one’s out today.” He
gestured to the street, his hands moving slowly to not attract attention. The
room was filled with other men, having similar conversations. Eric heard every
word. The man continued, “They’re all hiding, waiting to see what happens. And
it wasn’t just us this time.”

“What do you mean?” he glanced around, leaning in closer,
hushing his voice. Eric recognized the tightness of his voice, the hesitation
to speak. Saying the wrong thing when times were filled with turmoil was like
dropping a spark on a pile of tinder.

The fat man’s eyes narrowed, “Russia, England, and France.
All of them.
And every single one—didn’t matter what kind of
guard they had—they all died the same way.”

His companion sat back hard in the booth, his face pale,
staring blankly.

Eric’s jaw tightened as he took in the information. His
ears burned like he could sense that something larger was at hand, but he
didn’t realize how closely at hand it was.

A pretty brunette snapped him out of his thoughts. The girl
didn’t seem to be much older than he appeared—eighteen, maybe twenty. She had
generous curves on her tall frame, with hips that melted into a pair of perfect
legs. Her long, dark hair was tied in a knot on the back of her head. Several
strands had pulled free, which were tucked behind her ear. The clothing she
wore clung to her body, accentuating every curve. She didn’t move like she was
aware of the perfection of her body, although she didn’t try to hide it either.

The girl sat down hard next to him. A tiny cup
came
flying down the top of the bar. She plucked it up
before it flew off the end, and knocked back the contents. Slamming it down on
the bar top, she turned to Eric, “Where the hell have you been?” Her eyes were
blue, cold and lifeless—haunted, like his.

Eric was leaning over the bar with his head in his hands, pretending
to ignore her. “What do you want, Natalia?” Eric snapped, intentionally mean. He
was aware of his curse, of what it would do to her if she got to close to him. He
was never making that mistake again.

She grabbed his shoulder, and turned him toward her. Eric’s
eyebrow shot
up,
surprised she had the guts to shove
him. Her pink lips smoothed into a flat line. She hissed, “Don’t talk to me
like that. For three years, I’ve known where you were, and we’ve helped each
other out, and then you disappear without warning.”

She released him, seething, angry and relieved at the same
time. It would have been three years wasted, had she lost track of Eric. He had
a way of falling off the grid and totally disappearing. This time, no matter
how hard she tried to locate him, he was simply gone. Waiting, befriending him
like this, was a risk, but she needed more time.

Try as he might, Eric reacted without meaning to. It was
hard to control
himself
around her. She brought out
his worst. His hands flew up, shackling her wrists like vices, squeezing
tightly. He leaned close to her face, never taking his gaze from her icy blue
eyes, “I can talk to you however I want. And keep your fucking hands to
yourself,” he growled before shoving her back slightly, tossing her aside.

Natalia’s jaw locked. She burned holes in the side of
Eric’s face, but he didn’t turn to look at her. “You’re a jerk, you know that? There’s
only one person around here who gives a rat’s ass about you, and you...”
exasperated she paused, trying to find the right word. Maybe she pushed him too
hard this time. Touching him was off limits, but she did it anyway.

Eric cut her off, finishing her sentence, “I’ve been
telling you to stay the fuck away, but you don’t listen.” Their eyes locked for
a moment.

Natalia’s gaze was defiant, her pink lips pulled into a
thin line, her arms folded across her chest. This was the Eric who hid from
her, the one she wanted to destroy.
Patience.
It won’t be
much longer
, she thought to herself.

She leaned in, eyes narrowing, her words taunting him
further, “You’re all bark and no bite.” Her nose was nearly touching his. Every
curve of her body was corded tight. She wanted to fight, but she felt something
else at times, and she wanted to crush it. She cared about him, and she
shouldn’t. It didn’t matter what his current actions were, they didn’t make up
for his past. Her lips were nearly touching his, and curled into a smirk,
“You’re all smoke. No fire. No flames.” A single, perfectly dark brow arched as
she said the last word.

Something inside of Eric snapped. Reaching up behind her,
he grabbed the hair at the nape of her neck. Yanking her closer, he pressed his
face to hers and spoke the soft threat into her ear, “Yes, my dear Natalia, and
smoke kills faster than fire. Never forget that.” He released her, and turned
back to his drink. The girl looked shaken, but no one intervened.

Natalia knew something was wrong with Eric, but she
wouldn’t leave him alone. Hell, everyone knew something was wrong with Eric. It
washed off of him in waves that screamed,
Stay
the fuck away
, but she didn’t. She had her reasons, reasons she made sure
Eric didn’t know.

Ignoring his vile tongue and actions, she said, “Have you
heard? That’s why I was looking for you.” When Eric’s eyes glanced back at
hers, she could see he didn’t know what she was talking about. “There’s an
assassin. Someone is killing off the world’s leaders, one by one. Over the past
three nights, three have died, maybe more. The only remains were golden marks,
burned into the ground.”

CHAPTER THREE

Eric steeled his gaze as he listened. The girl explained
what she heard, leaving out nothing. The old men at their little table were
silent, straining to hear Natalia as she spoke, retelling the latest news.

Natalia continued, “They aren’t saying much. I just
happened to hear because of my dad’s old connections. One of them checked on me
the other night,” her cold gaze glared at him, biting the words off, “while you
were who-knows-where. He told me to get ready. Something’s coming. He said it
was too much like what happened a few years ago. Ya know, things happening
without explanation.” She shook her head, her long dark hair swaying side to
side.

Natalia tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, her thin
fingers smoothing it in place. When she spoke, her voice was strained, pitched
higher, and much softer than usual, “Eric, everything is already decimated. There’s
barely enough food now. The city is still in ruins. People can’t take this. I
can’t take this...” her voice broke off. It was odd for the girl to show
vulnerability. After everything she’d been through, he hadn’t heard that hitch
in her voice since he met her.

Eric’s gaze narrowed. He was naturally suspicious, life
made him that way, but something in her eyes told him that she wasn’t toying
with him. She was afraid. Shit. He watched her sweep away a stray strand of
hair, and when those icy blue eyes met his, he wanted to comfort her. She never
asked for help. If she felt like this, something spooked her. How bad would it
really be to take her in his arms and hold her? What was the worst thing that
could happen if he grew attached to the scent of her hair, and the feel of her
skin against his?

His line between cruelty and compassion was blurred. Ivy had
told him to start over and make a new life for himself. But he couldn’t. The
curse that condemned everyone he cared about to death kept him isolated. There
was no one to confide in, no one to trust, and Eric felt himself slipping away,
becoming someone more savage—more desperate every day. As the curse increased
his pain, so did Eric’s thirst for malice. It wasn’t enough to wound anymore. It
wasn’t enough to
sate
his pain for more than a
moment. As each new sun rose, Eric lost another piece of himself. He could
barely remember the man he’d been, the one that Lydia had fallen in love with.
The one that would have done anything to save her.
Now he
was more like the Valefar that murdered her.

Eric knew he had to stop, and there was only one way to make
sure he never tortured another soul again. Natalia trailing around after him
would only get her hurt. Eric wished things were different, but they weren’t. This
was his life, and she had no part in it. He’d have to increase things with her
a few notches to get her to stay away.

Natalia watched Eric’s amber eyes. He seemed so
cold,
and intentionally cruel to her. While she tried to
provoke him, bringing this nasty side of him out, she also knew there was more
to him, and she tried to ignore it. Nothing he could say or do would repair the
damage he’d caused. And all this time, she sat in front of him and he didn’t
recognize how much she looked like her mother.

Natalia was always on edge, waiting for things to explode
between them. To her, it seemed like Eric hated everyone and everything, but
there was one action that didn’t jive with that persona. She couldn’t
comprehend why he saved her. Natalia kept telling herself it was due to
ignorance, that if he knew who she was, he’d kill her without blinking, but
somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew that wasn’t it. Eric was more
complicated than he let on.

Before he had time to say anything, Eric looked over his
shoulder, sensing something—a stirring in the air. It was strange, but since
Ivy shoved his soul back into his body, he could sense things. He didn’t know
if it was Ivy, manipulating him, or that he could feel another Valefar
effonate
.
Either way, trouble was coming
and
he wanted her gone.

“It’s nothing you have to worry about, Natalia.” Her pale
blue eyes met his, lost and haunted. He saw her as a frightened girl because
that was what she wanted him to see. Eric had no idea.

“Go home,” he snapped. He didn’t like the weakness that
crept into her voice, so he bit off the last words, hoping she’d take them like
a slap in the face.

Natalia’s gaze turned to steel, eyes narrowed. She leaned
closer to him, her hair falling over her shoulders. She breathed through
gritted teeth, “Go home?
Seriously?
The world’s going
to Hell and that’s all you have to say?” Before she could ask anything else,
Eric turned away, slid a few golden coins onto the bar—enough for his drink and
Natalia’s—and stood up.

Where were they?
His skin itched like
he was covered in ants. Last time that happened there were Valefar nearby, but
he didn’t hear voices outside and no one came in. Eric glanced around the girl
as her irritation turned to anger.

He turned to walk away, but Natalia was on his heels. She
said, “What’s wrong with you? I’m talking to you and you zone out and walk
away. Eric, what the fuck is wrong with you?” She reached for his arm, jerking
him back. Every muscle in his body tensed as he looked at her. She was tall
enough to look him in the eye, and her icy eyes were pissed. Good.

He shook her off, “Listen. The only reason you’re following
me is because I kept that thing from killing you.” That thing was a demon, and
it had the girl in its clutches years ago, ready to strip the flesh from her
bones. Eric reacted without thinking. He saw more horrors that night than he’d
seen in his lifetime, but seeing this girls’ flesh stripped from her bones
wasn’t something he wanted to add to the collection. He acted fast, decimating
the demons that were on her. His words now were cruel, intentionally cold,
“That was an accident. I should have let them have you. I’m no hero, so stop
following me around.”

She stared at him while he spoke, anger burning in her
eyes. Eric wondered if she was even listening.

He was so deranged
.
Why’d he have to bring that up?
It was the only action she couldn’t
account for. It made no sense. Natalia’s head cocked to the side, “Whatever,
Eric. You lost everything, and so did I.
How
...”

Eric interrupted, leaning into her face, his voice low,
“Lost everything? You think I’m like you?” Not glancing away, she swallowed
hard. Part of her wanted to say
yes, we
are the same
, but she bit her tongue. Anger flashed in Eric’s eyes, “What
the fuck is wrong with you? Since then, you’ve seen who I am—what I am, but you
keep acting like there’s more. There is no more! This is it. I’m a deranged
fuck who revels in pain, and given the same opportunity to save your ass, I’d
stand by and watch them slowly skin you!” His voice echoed through the bar. No
one spoke. No one dared a glance at him. It was so quiet that the only sound he
could hear was Natalia’s angry breaths.

Her eyes narrowed as he spoke, her lips opening
slightly,
ready to verbally accost him, her slender fingers
balled into fists. All eyes in the bar were on them, but no one would
interfere. Natalia understood that she was on her own from the moment her
family was slaughtered. There was no one to help, no one to protect her. When
Eric came along she saw something in him. That night he saved her, and kept her
safe. She didn’t know why and never pressed him. Even after the smoke cleared,
after they saw what was left of her city, Eric didn’t leave her. He taught her
to fight, so she could protect herself. He found a place for her to stay,
safely hidden within the rubble. During that time, she saw flashes of someone else,
not the hard-ass, nasty prick who was standing in front of her. It was like he
was living a double life.

The words he now spoke so callously fell from his mouth and
pricked her skin like barbs. He wanted her to believe him, but she didn’t. There
was something about him that made her think that he was more than he appeared. Eric
wasn’t just some lost jackass who happened to have a moment of glory. He was
glory, concealed by sharp words and disturbing actions. Why couldn’t she let
that go? He said it was a mistake. Why couldn’t she just believe him?

Before she had time to think, Natalia’s fist flew directly
at Eric’s jaw. She wanted to make him stop talking. She wanted the Eric who
helped her back, because if that’s who he really was, she knew she had the
wrong guy. But that part of Eric remained hidden, tightly concealed beneath
layers of scorn. Before her knuckles connected with his jaw, Eric’s hand shot
up. He caught her fist like a baseball, and held on tight.

He crushed her hand, twisting her wrist, pulling her closer
to him. “
This
is who I am.” His eyes
met hers, burning. Natalie gasped, feeling the pain spreading through her hand,
the bones threatening to crack. Eric’s lips were so close to hers that she felt
his breath, “There is nothing more.”

Her pink lips parted, ready to say something, but she never
had the chance. Eric looked up into the doorway and recognized the man standing
there. Dark skin, black eyes, with a body built like it was made out of steel.
Mandor.
He hadn’t stood in front of the Valefar for years,
but he knew they were tracking him. Eric had managed to evade them. The tricks
he learned kept them guessing, making it impossible to find him. But somehow
they found him.

Eric released her hand, hissing in her ear, “Leave.
Now.”

He backed away from her, but Natalia didn’t move. She
glanced over her shoulder and stared at Mandor, not knowing who he was, then
back at Eric. There would be bloodshed and he didn’t want the girl involved,
but she just stood there, in between them.

Natalia glared at Eric before turning to leave. She glanced
up at Mandor, giving him a cold glare, as she tried to shove her way through. But
Mandor didn’t move. He laughed softly at her. It was like a butterfly trying to
push a mountain lion aside. He underestimated her just like everyone else did. When
they looked at Natalia they saw a slight girl, not a dangerous creature that
shouldn’t exist. Natalia remained demure, letting Eric and Mandor think their
assumptions were accurate. Now was not the time for corrections.

Eric ignored her, turning back to the bar, trying to access
if there were more Valefar outside. He wanted to make sure she was safe, and
the best way to do that was for it to appear that they weren’t together. Glancing
at her over his shoulder, he watched Natalia try to exit, pushing her way past
Mandor, but the Valefar didn’t move. Shit.

Mandor glanced at Eric, deep voice booming, “Your tastes
don’t change.” He
grinned
a bright smile at Eric, but
there was malice behind it. There was always malice when it came to Valefar.

Eric’s expression remained unaffected. He glanced at
Natalia, his eyes tracing her face and sliding down the curves of her body in a
completely carnal way. Heat rose to her face, making her blush, which seemed to
piss her off. Eric grinned and she looked away, back at Mandor blocking her
path.

The heat still burned in her cheeks. What the hell was
that? Eric never looked at her like that before, and she certainly didn’t
expect to respond that way. Natalia glanced at the man blocking her path
wondering what was happening, wondering what he wanted with Eric. She didn’t
want to leave. Eric was her kill, and she wouldn’t just hand him over to be
slaughtered by someone else. But Natalia had seen Eric fight and knew it was
more likely that he’d win.

Eric leaned against the bar, folding his hands casually and
replied, “She’s not with me.”

Mandor, smiled, amused. Reaching for the girl, he took her
by the shoulder. Natalia tried to shake him off, but he tightened his grip. “Is
that so?” Eric nodded. Mandor smiled, his eyes drifting over her curves, “So,
you wouldn’t mind if I took her with us, used her like the Queen’s sister, and
tossed her aside?” Natalia stiffened. She heard the stories of the Queen’s
sister. She knew Eric’s involvement in that as well. Her mind was reeling. She
couldn’t show them what she was capable of. Not here. Not now. It would blow
her cover and screw everything up. The only chance she had of killing Eric was
if he didn’t suspect her. This Valefar was about to force her to reveal a
secret she managed to keep from Eric for three years. Rage shook her body, but
they only thought she was trembling. They saw her as an insignificant piece of
ass.

Eric’s golden eyes were hard, lifeless. He locked onto her
gaze, forcing his tongue to say the words frigidly, “Like I said, she’s not
mine, so I don’t give a fuck what you do to her.” He turned his back on them,
gesturing for another drink, but the bartender was out of sight.

Natalia’s eyes burned, but Eric didn’t look away as he
spoke. This was the bastard she knew—the man responsible for slaughtering her
mother. Rage ignited in every muscle in her body. Without warning, Natalia was
in motion. She transformed from the poor little victim to a fierce fighter,
trying to hold her body in check so her power wouldn’t give her away. Natalia
fought the way Eric taught her. She twisted in Mandor’s grip, while she blocked
his hands, keeping her body out of reach and freed herself.