Assassin: Fall of the Golden Valefar (A Paranormal Romance—Book #6 in the Demon Kissed Series) (3 page)

She growled, “I don’t belong to anyone, asshole.” He
towered above her like a dark wall of muscle.
 

Mandor laughed, amused by her ferocity.
“All
the more reason to catch you, then.”
Without warning, he reached for
her, but Natalia jumped back on top of the bar. It wasn’t unreasonable for a
human to jump like that, but she didn’t have time to consider if her movements
seemed human or not. The Valefar was still after her. Mandor’s arm shot out,
reaching for her ankle. The thick muscles under his dark skin rippled as his
hand lurched forward to trap her, but Natalia altered her footing quickly and
kicked her heavy black boot straight into his face. The sickening crunch of a
broken nose was felt on impact.

Natalia bolted down the top of the bar, muttering, “Dick,”
as she passed Eric.

Mandor lunged for her, but the lithe girl slipped between
his fingers. She contorted her lean body, moving quickly through the caved-in
storefront and was out of sight before the Valefar could catch her. Mandor
cracked his nose back into place and turned toward Eric with blood dripping
down his face. Eric knew the Valefar was here for him, but he had no intention
of going. The bastard would drag him back down into the Underworld and there
was no way he was doing that. Not yet. It was too soon.

Eric moved toward the door, leaning hard against the frame.
The girl moved well. She didn’t hesitate. Natalia didn’t hold back. He nearly
laughed when she cursed at him as she ran down the bar. That girl was trouble,
he just didn’t know how much.

Mandor wiped the blood off his face with the back of his
hand, before saying, “The Queen summons you.”

“Tell the Queen to...” he was going to say something nasty,
but thought of Ivy and the words died in his mouth. He pressed his eyes closed,
and opened them again, staring at Mandor with a grin on his face. He could feel
the effonation burning under his skin. Unlike his fellow red Valefar, he had
more power than them. Call it a side-effect of being him, the only golden
Valefar. As his form shimmered, Mandor realized what was happening and lunged
at him.

Laughing, Eric said, “Tell the Queen to kiss my ass.”

CHAPTER FOUR

Eric didn’t need to be eloquent. He knew his message would
never reach Ivy’s ears. He also knew the time he had left was limited. There
were still several Tribunal members he needed to visit. A sadistic smile spread
across his lips as he moved through a pile of rubble. There was a voice in the
back of his mind warning him—no, telling him—that if he continued on this path he
would lose what he had. Eric scoffed, shoving his hands in his pockets. He had
nothing left. He had no one. There was no reason to breathe. His boot kicked a
patch of plaster that was still attached to a rafter. The impact shattered both
into tiny pieces. Displays of rage were fruitless. They did not calm him as
they once did. Instead, the residual effects of the emotion lingered in his
body, forcing him to act out later when he didn’t want to.

Eric had made his decision. His fate was all but sealed. Intentionally
taunting the Queen of the Underworld, the only person who had enough power to
destroy him, was cruel. Ivy was his friend and he knew what he was forcing on
her, but there was no other way out. The cravings were growing within him,
consuming him. There was more monster than man residing inside him. With the
curse constantly changing him, making it so he never had peace, he could see
the path he was on. There was only one way to get off, and that was death. He’d
be destroyed and the curse would end. There was one part of his plan that was
undetermined—Eric didn’t know if Ivy was capable of killing him.
 

Since he saw Ivy last, he had tried to kill himself several
times. Once he even sought out the Omen, the massive black dragon that
destroyed everyone who touched it. Eric didn’t touch the Omen—he stabbed the
beast—but to no avail. The creature snapped at him, biting his shoulder with
deadly teeth and swiping at him with razor sharp talons. The only thing the
creature managed to do was make its wound hemorrhage more, leaving a pool of
clear blood next to Eric. Beaten, but very much alive, Eric took the Omen’s
spilled blood and saved it in a vial. Magic that dark and powerful had no
effect on him, but he thought that he might be able to use it later. And he
did. The clear drops of blood were deadly to everyone, everything—except him.

Eric moved into the inhabited section of Rome, swiftly
walking into a store and selecting a snack. He wasn’t hungry, he just wanted
something familiar. He waited his turn in line, like he wasn’t a deranged
monster and ordered. When Eric turned around, food in hand, he saw her. Arms
folded over her chest, pissed off, tapping her boot.

“Seriously?
You ditched me to
eat?” Natalia said
,
her head cocked to the side. Her
black shirt had a small tear in the side from climbing through the rubble. Her
long dark hair was down, flowing over her shoulders like spilled chocolate.

Eric paused. He wanted to feel something good—something
normal. He could let her stay. He didn’t have to be mean to her, not since he
wouldn’t be around much longer anyway. Would it hurt her? Would the curse still
condemn her to death if he was already dead? He didn’t think so. The power that
destroyed should die with him. Besides, pushing her away wasn’t working very
well. Eric glanced at her, his amber eyes sliding over her face as he bit into
a thin sandwich, “Maybe.” He smirked at her.

Natalia trailed after him out of the store on his heels. “You
are such an ass!” She stopped following him. Her legs felt like they filled
with iron, or maybe that was resolve. Either way, she wasn’t going to trail
behind him like a love-struck puppy. Her arms clamped down tightly over her
chest.

Eric turned, glancing at the swells of flesh hidden beneath
that tight shirt. His gaze flicked quickly to her eyes. Natalia didn’t notice
that he had trouble not admiring her curves. The softness of her flesh was
enticing, but he knew why he favored her—why he let her follow him. It was
exactly what Mandor said, she was his type. She reminded him of Ivy, of Lydia,
of a time when he was someone else—someone better. There was no harm in that,
right? It meant he could be near her and do what he wanted, but part of him
held back, pushing her away.

Part of him knew she was Natalia and very different. Her
body was taller, her curves were fuller, and her bite was harder. When Natalia
was mad, she let him have it. And by the look on her face, Eric knew she’d had
enough. This was a turning point. If he told her to fuck off, he’d never see
her again. His eyes slid over her body before he stepped toward her. Eyes
lowered, he looked up at her through his lashes, and held out the food. His
voice was soft, “Here.”

Natalia glanced down at the insanely expensive snack and reached
for it. Eric glanced up at her and smiled sadly. When her fingers brushed
against his, she felt something that unnerved her. Her crystal blue eyes looked
away, back down at the treat in her hands.

“Sorry about before,” he said quietly. “If they knew I
cared about you, they’d hunt you down. It was better to let them think that you
didn’t matter to me.”

Natalia glanced at him out of the corner of her eye.
He cared about her?
It felt like someone
dropped ice down her spine. She tried to act like it didn’t matter; she tried
to think this softness wasn’t him. This was the false Eric. This was the guy
that drove her crazy because he made her doubt herself. She nodded slowly, pretending
to be something she was not, “So that stuff you said, before? It was just a bunch
of crap to get me to leave?”

Eric stopped and turned to her. Natalia held the sandwich
loosely in her hands, her gaze meeting Eric’s. His lips wanted to move and say
two different things. He blinked slowly at her. It was like time was frozen. Finally
he said, “Something like that,” and they continued walking shoulder to shoulder
down the street. He watched her eat, and realized she must be hungry. He
wondered if her food stores had been depleted, but knew better than to ask her.
He’d have to go by her place and see for himself.

Natalia felt happy for a moment. The simplicity of walking
with someone and eating something that was once so common brought back a flood
of memories of happier times. Her dark lashes were lowered, her eyes looking
down as she spoke, “You make me crazy, you know that?” She shook her head. Eric
glanced at her, appearing apathetic, but she wondered if he was acting,
pretending like she was. She didn’t want to cause his mood to shift, but she
had to know, “You only seem to run hot or cold. There’s nothing in the middle
for you, is there?”

Eric grinned, “Hot?
When have you seen
hot?”
He tried to hide the laughter in his voice, but he knew damn well
that she hadn’t seen hot. He kept that part of himself hidden from everyone,
especially her.

Natalia looked over at him, “Then what’s this?” She laughed
lightly, shaking her head. “
Awh
, I’m so screwed. You
only have two modes:
I hate you
and
I hate you more
!!” She wasn’t entirely
kidding, and didn’t expect him to respond the way he did.

His voice was deep, his eyes gazing at the little lines in
the pavement. “I just want to protect you, Nat.”

“From what?” she stopped talking, her heart beating with a
deep rhythm that scared her.

Glancing up at her, he asked, “Isn’t it obvious?” His pulse
thundered in his ears. What was he doing? Eric knew he shouldn’t go down this
road with her, but he couldn’t stop. Maybe he was selfish. Maybe it was because
he’d be gone soon, but he dropped his guard. He put away his barbed words and
just enjoyed walking with her, hearing her voice and responding the way he
would have if he was still himself, and not the desperate monster that crawled
under his skin.
“From me.”

“I already know what you’re capable of. I’ve seen it.” This
was the man that confused her. There was
a softness
in
his voice, in his eyes that didn’t belong there.

“Natalia…” he stopped walking. She took another step before
turning. Her lips were parted like she was surprised. He ran his hands through
his hair. “You don’t know all of it.”

His voice was so shaken. It felt like someone pulled all
the air out of her lungs in one tug. “I don’t need to. I know enough to see
that this part of you, this—whatever it is—is something that you keep hidden. I
just don’t understand why.”

Eric’s lips parted, as he looked at her, trying to find the
right words but there were none. Finally, he answered, “Because it’s the least
of me. It’s deceptive. It’s not who I am.”

“It’s what you could be.”

“No,” he shook his head, his eyes even more haunted than
they were before, “it’s what I was, but I’m not that man anymore. He’s gone,
Nat. The guy that saved you a few years ago is gone. It doesn’t matter what I
want. If the same situation happened today—“

She held up her hand, her face pinching in anger, “Don’t
say it. You know damn well that you’d do the same thing!”

Sadly, Eric shook his head, knowing in his heart that he
wouldn’t. “That’s what you don’t want to see. That’s what you can’t admit—that
I’d let them have you—I’d watch them destroy you.” Eric’s chest felt
hollow,
like he’d spilled his guts and now he was empty. There
was no good man left inside of him.

Natalia stepped toward him, “If you think that, then you
don’t know yourself anymore.” He started to interrupt, but she held up her
hand. “I know you’re a lot more fucked-up than most people, but Eric… that’s
not who you are.”

Maybe she was right. Maybe she could tell how hard it was
for him to keep hold of his old self. The blood-thirsty sadistic side of him
was warring within him even then. He wanted to take her, hurt her, make her cry
out and bask in her fear, but Eric kept his hands in his pockets. He wouldn’t
touch her. He’d never touch her.

He asked the question that plagued him, the one he dreaded
answering,
“
Then who am I?”

Natalia saw the softness in his eyes, vulnerability as rare
as a kind word was spread across his face. She felt pulled to him when he was
like this. Whatever was happening to him, she could feel him at war with
himself. He was too hard on himself to see what he truly was, but she knew. And
that’s why she hadn’t acted yet. She breathed deeply, shaking her head as if
she were astounded he couldn’t see it. “You’re a good man who has done a lot of
bad things.”

Eric let her words sink in. His tongue wanted to slash at
her and say things to make her retreat, but he kept his mouth shut. He wished
he knew what she was thinking when she looked at him like that. There was sadness
in his gaze, an uncertainty that she wore like a mask. It was only present when
he was kind to her, which was rare. But right then, in that moment, he couldn’t
ignore the ache in his chest anymore. Turning away, he started walking again,
Natalia at his shoulder. “So much more than you know.”

CHAPTER FIVE

Eric spent the rest of the day with Natalia and left her at
sunset. The pain that carved his body into an evil man, was assaulting him. The
effects of Julia’s blood couldn’t tide him over. He needed more. It made him
blind to the fact that Natalia seemed to have somewhere to go. She practically
ran into her house to get away from him. He assumed that his mood was returning
to fowl, so she wanted to part on a good note. He had no idea Natalia wasn’t
that innocent and it would blindside him later.

Natalia slammed the door behind her, breathing hard. She
didn’t understand. How could Eric be like that? How could he be so sweet one
moment and murderous the next? She banged her head against the door. If she didn’t
find that damn book soon, she was screwed. The fabled book had the list she
needed, and it would confirm his identity if Eric had it. Part of her wondered
if she was a moron, following a deranged lunatic around for all these years. It
didn’t matter how hard she searched, she never found his book, his notes to
himself so he would remember who he was and what he’d done. It was an artifact
that only the oldest angels maintained.

Her lips pulled into a crooked grin. Eric was no angel. Not
anymore. That’s why it took so long for her to find him. And whether she wanted
to admit it or not, she was attracted to him. Everything about him was
enticing.
The curve of his muscles, the angle of his jaw, the
color of his eyes.
Her stomach clenched thinking about it. He was her
type through and through. Every ounce of him made her
want
to feel his skin beneath her hands and taste his lips. Sometimes she looked at
him and wondered if he was thinking the same thing. The longing in his eyes
undid her. He made it difficult to think, and if Eric continued to act like
this, she was screwed. Not only did it mean she was attached to him, but it
meant that she’d been wrong all this time. It meant she’d tracked down the
wrong man. Natalia put her hands on her head, pressing hard, trying to crush the
doubt that was growing around Eric.

_____________

Eric walked the streets for hours, trying to subdue his
pain, but his feet still took him to the darkest place in the city—the place
that would sate his burning desire for blood. It was a location where Valefar
lurked and Martis were glaringly absent. Ivy had told them, warned the Valefar,
that they could only prey on the wicked, and technically, this place was
wicked.

Carina’s stood in front of him. It looked like a smashed up
hotel, but it was so much more than that—it was a place where Rome’s men could
play with women any way they wanted. The more nefarious the act, the more
likely it was to be found here.

Carina’s was a brothel that sprang up after the war, and
there wasn’t anyone who wanted to shut it down. Places like it kept the streets
safer at night, and made sure those who had a taste for pain weren’t out
stalking helpless prey. They gravitated toward one of the brothels instead, and
Carina’s was the largest and the most accepting of their needs.

Pain seared through Eric’s body, blistering under his skin.
His fists clenched tightly, and he knew that it would ease soon. Pushing
through
a door that lie
in the debris as though it
fell from the sky, Eric passed through and moved underground, emerging in a long
dark hallway. He edged forward in complete darkness until he came to a cellar
door and rapped his knuckles on it.

The door cracked open flooding the alcove where Eric stood with
smoke and music. A large man with tanned skin and dark eyes looked at him,
saying quickly, “She won’t have you here again. Not after last time.” He pulled
the door open and Eric walked through. Carina’s was filled with the scent of
blood… and sex. He nodded at the man, letting him know he heard his warning.

The room was vast, filled with people sitting on chairs,
leaning on tables. Music wafted through the air, playing some tune from long
ago. No one seemed to notice that the décor was ancient, like a mid-nineteenth
century whore-house with flocked velvet wall paper the color of dried blood. Long
drapes stretch from the floor to ceiling, and thick tassels covered everything with
ornate fringe. The fringe was on the couches and the uniforms—if you could call
a corset and a barely-there panty a uniform.

It was stiflingly hot. Smoke clung to the dark ceiling in a
hazy cloud.

Eric approached the long bar that ran the length of the
room. Behind it were mirrors that stretched high making the room appear twice
as large. Gas lamps flickered dimly. A girl in a corset moved with ease over
the lap of the man next to him. At one time, that would have been enough.
But not now.
Eric needed so much more. It had grown into a
necessity, coming here, to this place where screams rang out and pain was lost
in pleasure. This was part of the reason he couldn’t stand the sight of himself
anymore. He knew how far he’d pushed the girl last time he was here, and the
warning at the door let him know it was too far. There was a twisting in his
gut, but he needed more. Convincing Carina to give him another girl was going
to be difficult, but necessary. For some reason, this place had not attracted
Ivy’s attention, and he needed to keep things that way for a while longer.

Eric felt Carina’s eyes on his back before he saw her
approach him. Her gnarled finger was in his face before he could turn around. “NO!”
she was shouting in Italian, “There is no room for you here. Even we have
limits.” Her hair was plaited down her back in a long blonde rope. A blood-red
corset pulled her waist in while it pushed the swells of her breasts up high. Every
woman who worked for her wore the same corset, a scrap of fabric that barely
covered anything below the
waist,
and a sheer black robe
over it.

Eric’s eyes didn’t leave hers. He knew she was a
Valefar,
he’d seen her stealing souls once when she’d gotten
sloppy and drained a Martis. Their souls had lingering effects that made
overindulged Valefar chatty. That night Eric put a shroud on her mind. It made
her unable to recall him, his face, his voice, if another Valefar asked about
him. It protected him, and made sure no one hunting him would find him here.

“Carina,” he purred, leaning back against the bar,
stretching out his perfect body, “if Jocelyn doesn’t want to play tonight, give
me someone bolder.” His posture was confident. He knew what happened to the
girl before Carina answered. Going too far in a place like this only had one
meaning.

Her dark eyes widened, her face pinched, “Jocelyn is dead! You
went too far last time you were here! None of my girls consent to anything
without my approval now. It’s your own damn fault, Eric.”

Eric’s arms folded over his chest. If it came down to it,
he could kill the old woman, but he didn’t want to tip his hand. She didn’t
know what he was capable of. She still thought he was mortal. The incantation
he had used addled her mind and made it harder for her to realize that he was
an immortal, like her. And no other Valefar could wield such magic to make vast
quantities of riches the way he could.

Nodding at her, Eric withdrew a large wad of cash from his
pocket. “I’ll pay triple. Give me your best girl, you set the rules, you leave
the instruments.”

The woman’s eyes narrowed on the cash. Natalia was right. People
were growing more worried and those who had money had power. Greed overcame
Carina’s sensibility. If she was going to lose another girl, it had to be worth
the price. Eric was ruthless. When she found Jocelyn’s body the next morning,
she couldn’t believe what he’d done to her. But Valefar have no grief, just
shock. She was shocked to find someone who was more twisted than she, and it
drew her to Eric, making her lust after him when she knew she shouldn’t.

Carina shook her head, demanding, “Pay ten times higher, if
you want my best girl. I will not have you destroying what I took so long to refine.
Do you have any idea how long it takes one of these girls to recover from what
you do to them? It’s been months since you were here last and it’s taken that
long to replace Jocelyn. I won’t have you do that to me again. That’s the
price. Pay it or get out.” Her eyes narrowed to slits as she watched Eric,
expecting him to leave. Asking ten times the normal rate was the equivalent to
asking for a house. A night with one of her girls wasn’t cheap. It took too
much time to teach them to endure the acts done to them. Her patrons paid in
full, for the entire evening before ever stepping foot into a room.

Eric’s lips formed a thin line as she spoke. Jocelyn was a
mistake. He thought she could handle it, she’d told him that she could. He
remembered her wide brown eyes filled with fear. When he left, she was alive
and breathing. This was the first time his heinous acts killed one of her
girls. The guard at the door eyed him, waiting to see what he would do. Around
him, Eric could feel the divine screams transpiring down the hall, behind
locked doors. It was the way things were. The girls were trained to be able to
bear an incredible amount of pain, for which they were well paid. It was more
than trading sex for cash, it was flesh for gold. Every last piece of that girl
would be his to do with as he pleased until morning. It made surviving the
nights more bearable. It gave him the control he needed.

Eric glanced to the side, eyeing the corseted girl’s moving
through the room. “Which one?” he asked.

Carina shook her head, “No games, Eric. You’re in or out. And
you can only use this,” she held out a small silver tack. He took it, rolling
the small pointy thing between his fingers and looked up at her like she was
crazy.

“You can’t expect…” but she cut him off.

 
“I do! And you will.
If you want to stay and play at my house, you follow my rules. This is your
only instrument, so you won’t kill this one.” Eric looked up at her, her eyes
were flaming fury, “You expect me to lock her in a room with you with anything
more?
After last time?
No. This is it. That’s all you
get,” she snapped. “Make a decision. It’s this or nothing.”

The room was crowded. Patrons lined the walls and filled
every chair. Carina was a business woman and Eric knew this was a transaction
that she didn’t want to make. The smart thing would have been to walk away, but
Eric was so overwrought with pain that he couldn’t think. It seemed to be
getting worse, and he didn’t know why. Every part of him ached. Nothing sated
him anymore, only this.
Only sex and blood.
He could
have pulled a girl off the street and forced himself on her, but Eric didn’t
want to draw attention to
himself
. Here, in this
place, he could do what he wanted, take what he needed, and be gone. Ivy could
not find him.

Eric glanced at her with narrowed eyes, “Fine,” he growled,
taking more money from his pocket and thrusting it at her. Before she could say
anything else, he added, “And it’s enough for two girls. I’m paying ahead for
next time.
Same rate, Carina.
And if you don’t give me
what I want, I’ll take you.”

The woman laughed like he was flattering her. She snapped
her fingers after taking Eric’s money, smiling at him like he was a thoughtful
boy. “Take me? How sweet. Tell me,
Mr
… Are you ever
going to tell us your last name?” There was a playful smile on her face, her
hip cocked out to the side as she looked down at him. She couldn’t remember why
she didn’t know his full name, why she hadn’t insisted when it was a normal
part of the transaction. But she didn’t feel the need to know, and he’d never
told her.

Eric shook his head, arms folded across his chest, “No.”

Carina couldn’t sense that Eric had placed a spell on her. It
was so minor that she couldn’t tell it was there at all. Certain things about
him just felt forgotten, and she didn’t mind. Like his name.

Carina rolled her eyes, “Sasha will be your consort
tonight.” She turned to the barkeeper and nodded. The man tossed her a golden
key with a plaque hanging off of a red tassel. “Room three. She’s already in
there, waiting like usual.” Eric’s eyes watched her as she turned away, his
gaze falling to her bare hips as she walked away to help another patron.

Eric passed through the crowded room quickly, navigating
his way around throngs of people. A guard stood blocking his way to a hall with
golden numbers on the doors. Eric showed his key, and was promptly stripped of
his shirt and shoes. They patted him down, removing all his weapons so that the
only thing he had left was his tack. When they were done, the guards stood
aside and let him pass.

The hallway appeared to go on and on forever, with an
infinite number of rooms for an infinitely perverse population. Each side of
the hall was lined with doors, each door boasting a golden number. He knew what
he’d find on the other side: A corseted woman, chained in the room and the only
instrument he was permitted to use on her was the push pin in his hand. Fuck. He
wanted a knife, but that was what he used last time. What the hell could he do
with a pin?

As Eric padded down the hall he noticed the wallpaper was
the color of dried blood. Part of him thought that Carina did that on purpose. She
had a nasty sense of humor, which would be expected since she owned a place
like this. After the war, people had seen things they didn’t know how to deal
with. Some couldn’t. Some sick bastards just needed to feel warm blood sliding
over their skin.
 
It became normal at
some point, like it was normal to him. The blood and pain was robbing him of
who he was, but he couldn’t stop. He needed it. He needed the girl on the other
side of the door to scream out. He needed to feel her blood on his hands and
see the fear in her eyes. Eric passed door number one. He could hear faint
screams from the other side. Closing his eyes, he savored the little release it
gave him. The second door was silent, but as Eric approached door three, he
could feel the fear crash into him, setting his groin on fire.
She must be
gagged
,
he thought as he passed the door
and stopped in front of number three.