Beauty Awakened (Angels of the Dark) (18 page)

“Then I would love to,” she replied without a single beat of hesitation.

“Good.”

“On two conditions,” she added, blinking open her eyes.

He stepped back, increasing the distance between them. “And those conditions are?”

She gulped and shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “You have to bring us back on Saturday. We, uh, well, we have a double date.”

He’d known, but hearing the words from her lips caused every ounce of his earlier fury to return—times ten. “You’ll not be going on any date, Nicola.”

Her mouth fell open, snapped closed. “I already said yes.”

“And now you’ll say no.”

A moment passed in stilted silence.

“Is that so?” she said with a quiet fury of her own.

“That’s so. You must do what I say, when I say. Remember?”

She drummed her fingers over the counter. “You once told me to do whatever was necessary to remain calm. You once told me to do whatever was necessary to find peace and sow joy. Well, the date seemed like my best bet at the time. So which would you have me do? Please you, or save my sister and myself?”

He clenched his jaw painfully. It was just as he’d suspected—and no matter his feelings, he couldn’t take this away from her. “Very well. Go on your date.” The concession scraped his throat, left it raw and burning.

Perhaps, while she was out with the male, Koldo would return to the Downfall. Perhaps he would allow the Harpy to dance for him. Perhaps he would kiss and touch
the Harpy,
and forget everything Nicola had ever made him feel. He wouldn’t ruin the Harpy, and the Harpy wouldn’t blame him for her troubles.

Yes, that’s what he would do, even though every cell in his body rebelled at the thought.

“What’s the second condition?” he demanded.

She exhaled with force. “You have to take me to my job at Estellä every weekday morning, and pick me up every evening.”

Yet another blow he was unprepared to deal with right now. “You won’t quit?”

“No. I have to make a living.”

Was that all? “I’ll pay you to live with me.”

Again her mouth fell open. “No. You won’t.”

“I’m paying your bills. One is the same as the other.”

“Actually, no, it isn’t. I won’t be dependent on you for my future.”

Understanding took root, and it didn’t sprout a pretty flower patch. It had gnarled limbs and dripped with blood. She would allow Koldo to clean up her past, but she was afraid he would muddy up her future—the one she planned to share with another male.

“Very well,” he said stiffly. “I agree to your terms.” And he would do more than take the Harpy. He would take others. So many others! As many as it took to find someone who made him feel the way Nicola did. Or had. Right now, the only thing he wanted from her was distance. And, all right, an apology.

“Now I
know
you’re related to the guy in the park,” she said snippily. “You look just like him when you glare like that.”

Guy at the park? He didn’t allow himself to leave. “What guy?”

“Well, the demons were with some very scary people. People as tall as you, with bald heads, even the girl, and fangs and a terrible black mist that rose from their bodies. And the first one I saw looked like an older version of you.”

At first, he was too stunned to react. But as he breathed, his thoughts aligned and the shock gave way to dread.

His father
had
survived the bombing.

His father was here in Kansas.

His father, he thought, dazed—the vilest male he had ever encountered.

“Did any of them touch you?” he demanded.

“No. They just looked at me and smiled the meanest of smiles.”

He should be relieved, but his emotions were simply too volatile. His father had approached Nicola. His father could have harmed her in the worst of ways. He could have absconded with her, and Koldo wouldn’t have known what had happened to her until too late. But Nox hadn’t done any of that. He’d wanted Koldo to know of his return.

How like the man, to deliver fear before the battle. And there was no question there would be a battle. Nox was here for revenge. After all, Koldo had destroyed the male’s entire camp. His harem of lovers, both slave and free. The best of his warriors. The bulk of his allies. Now, he hoped to hit Koldo where it would hurt most. Destroying the first female Koldo had ever taken under his care.

Well, I won’t let him.
Koldo would have to find a way to strike first. To end this. Now. Forever.

He tugged Nicola to her feet. “Get your sister. I want you installed in my home within the hour.”

* * *

K
OLDO
FLASHED
N
ICOLA
and Laila to the living room of his ranch. “Look around,” he said, doing his best to mask his growing tension. Probably failing. “Change whatever you want. Eat whatever you want. I’ll be back.”

He hated to leave them so abruptly, without any more of a welcome, but his next task couldn’t wait.

As Nicola sputtered out a protest, he flashed to the cavern where his mother was stashed. This time, he didn’t hang around outside but stalked inside. With a single glance, he had the details memorized. Cornelia was dirtier than before, her robe stained with mud and blood, the hem frayed. Her short hair was matted at the sides. She sat in the corner of the cage, and there was a rat perched on her hand—a rat she was feeding a piece of grain.

She spotted Koldo and cursed. “Can’t you just leave me alone?”

“Your precious lover is stalking my woman.”

“I have no lover,” she spat.

“Oh, but you do. My father, the man you’ve pined for all these years, thinks to strike at me.”

Cornelia stiffened as she absorbed his words. The moment she accepted them as truth, she actually tossed the rat at him, the creature screaming along the way. Koldo caught him, set him down and watched as he scampered away.

Your first mistake was assuming she had a heart, little guy.

“Cruel even to your pets,” Koldo said.

She trembled, visibly fighting to keep her temper under control. If he wasn’t mistaken—and he had to be mistaken—there was a gleam of regret in her eyes.

“I thought he was dead,” she whispered.

“As did I. We were both wrong.”

Watching him intently, Cornelia stood on unsteady legs. “If he’s after you, you’re doomed. He’s crafty, and there’s nothing you can do to stop him.”

“I can kill him.”

“And that worked so well for you before?” she mocked with a hard laugh. “Especially now that you have a woman, did you say? I’m surprised one can actually stand to look at you.”

His woman. That’s what he’d called Nicola, wasn’t it? He would have to better guard his words, for the human was not his, not in that way, and now, she would never be. She had chosen another male. And Koldo couldn’t really fault her—even though he was still so angry he could tear this cavern apart rock by rock. She would be better off with one of her own kind.

“You should probably say goodbye to her.” Cornelia traced her fingertip along the bars beside her and grinned happily. “He’ll do the most horrendous things to her, and he’ll force you to watch. But you share his blood—maybe you’ll like that, huh?”

Koldo punched the cage so forcefully the reinforced steel bent backward.

Cornelia paled, backed away.

He
had
been forced to watch such behavior while chained inside Nox’s tent, and he had vomited every time. Had even tried to behead the man the first hundred times he was allowed to walk freely through the camp—and he had always been disciplined for his efforts. He would never—never!—enjoy watching such treatment.

“I protect what’s mine,” he gritted out. “But you protect no one. Did you witness such events when you were with him, huh,
Mother?
Did the two of you discuss it while you were snuggled in his arms?”

“Shut up!” She changed course, stomping forward. When she reached him, she gripped the very bars he’d harmed and attempted to shake them.

“I bet you did. I bet you were eaten up with jealousy when he turned his attentions to another.”

“You know nothing about me!”

“I know you’re exactly like him, a pretty face hiding rotten bones. And just so you know, I
will
kill him before he hurts the girl.” He should shut up. He should leave. His temper was overtaking him. If he wasn’t careful, he would erupt. But his feet felt anchored in place. “You’ll help me. Not because you love me, but because you want him to suffer for abandoning you. Isn’t that right?”

She popped her jaw, some of the anger leaving her. “I do want him to suffer.”

“Then tell me. What are his weaknesses?”

“You spent the most time with him. You should know.”

He should, shouldn’t he? But then, to him, Nox had been the pinnacle of strength, an unstoppable force. Koldo had been surprised to deliver the deathblow, especially from a distance.

Should have chosen up close and personal, as I craved
.

Then, he should have taken the time to identify all of the remains. But he’d assumed Nox had been burned to ash—had wanted to believe it so badly.

Mistakes, he realized now. He wouldn’t make another.

“Will you help me or not?” he demanded.

Cornelia lifted her chin, haughty despite her circumstances. “I will not.”

“Not even for a human?”

“Oh, I’ll help a human. Any but yours,” she added.

Koldo tried to calm his raging nerves. A thousand times these past few weeks, he could have killed this woman. But he’d never even bruised her.

As a child, he’d only ever wanted her love. Offered freely. And when it was clear he wouldn’t be getting that, offered through bribes. Yet time and time again she had rejected and denied him.

In that moment, peering into her defiant, hate-filled face, his restraint vanished. His control finally snapped. He’d had enough.

For once, she would know the pain he’d experienced at her hands. For once, she would understand the depths of betrayal. For once, she would fear the things Koldo could do to her.

“Let’s see if I can change your mind, shall we?” He withdrew a razor from the air pocket at his side and flashed into the center of the cage—the only way in or out. “I look like my father, even though I despise him. I think it’s only fair that you look like him, too, since you’re clearly still in love with him.”

Her eyes widened, and she backed away from him, as far as she could possibly get. “You wouldn’t dare,” she cried. “My hair has only just begun to grow back.”

Her words merely proved how little she knew about him. “Just like you wouldn’t dare to take my wings?”

She leaned toward the left, then darted to the right, trying to avoid him as he closed in. “You disobeyed me. You had to be disciplined.”

“Not that way.” Koldo flashed to just in front of her and latched on to her upper arms. It was their first contact since he’d carried her out of the depths of hell and brought her here. She was thinner, practically skin and bones, reminding him of Laila. Laila, the very image of Nicola. But that didn’t soften him, either, and wouldn’t stop him. In fact, it made him far angrier.

“Your only goal was to make me suffer,” he said, shaking her. “Why?”

He shouldn’t have asked. He regretted the question immediately, and knew it revealed the hurt he’d never been able to shed.

“I couldn’t allow you to turn out like him,” she said, and all the fight vanished from her. She peered up at him with more of that hatred. “I should have known it was a useless cause.”

I’m nothing like my father!
“So you despised him.”

“Yes,” she hissed.

“Yet you slept with him.”

“Yes! All right? Yes. I could tell you he tricked me. I could tell you it was a moment of weakness. What do you want to hear?”

His grip tightened as he gave her another shake. “The truth.”

Utterly calm, she said, “You were a mistake. That’s the truth.”

With her words, she ripped a scab off his heart, and the wound bled into his soul. “You’re right,” he said, wishing he were emotionless. Instead, he was so torn up inside he wasn’t sure he would ever be able to put himself back together. “I was a mistake. And now I’ll show you why.”

He pushed her face-first into the ground, held her down with a knee in the center of her back and, while she screamed and tried to fight her way free, removed every strand of her hair, until he scraped her scalp clean.

The sound of a woman screaming, the sight of her struggling, caused so many terrible memories to rise. But even when he closed his eyes and shook head, the images wouldn’t leave him.

He’d never stopped being the man his father had made him, he realized. And he never would.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

“S
ENT
O
NES
,
C
O
C
O
. Sent Ones,” Laila whispered as Nicola tucked her into bed.

“I know.”

“Demons, Co Co. Demons.”

“I know, sweetheart. But we don’t have to fear them, and Koldo assured me they won’t be able to hurt us.” And now, having witnessed what happened in the park, her confience in Team Good was untouchable.

“How did I not know they were out there? Why could I not see them?”

“Your eyes were closed. Now they’re open.”

“I...I...I’m not sure I can deal with this.”

Nicola remembered when they were little girls and Laila had tucked
her
into bed after she’d seen her first monster. How gentle and patient and kind her twin had been. “You’ve always been the strong one. You’ll find a way.”

A soft, humorless laugh left a sense of sadness behind. “You always thought that. You always thought I was strong. But, Co Co, it was you. Always you.” Laila stuffed her ears with the buds from the iPod Nicola had given her for their last birthday. She’d scrimped and saved for months to afford such a little piece of technology.

Sighing, Nicola kissed her sister on the cheek and left her to her rest. Not knowing what else to do, she explored Koldo’s home. Awe continually struck her, and she felt as though she had entered a fairy tale rather than a third-world country. The house itself was built of pine, and smelled rich and clean, but the furniture was what really stunned her.

There were velvet couches and chairs, ornately carved tables. Glass figurines, and bowls filled with diamonds, sapphires, rubies and emeralds as big as her fist. There were tapestries on the wall, and plush carpets on the floor. And that was just the living room!

Koldo really was loaded.

The kitchen boasted gold-veined marble countertops, copper pots and pans hanging from a sterling silver rack, and a large refrigerator that blended with the cabinet woodwork. Nothing was out of place. Not a speck of dust had settled onto the surface of the hand-carved table.

There were four bedrooms. Laila had claimed the one closest to the kitchen, and Nicola picked the one at the far end of the hall. There was a huge monster-size bed in the center, the rails draped by sheer pink lace. Pink? Lace? In a warrior’s home?

Had a female decorated?

Nicola bit the side of her cheek, fighting a tide of jealousy. The comforter was a lighter shade of pink, but no less brilliant. And this must have been where Koldo had wanted her to stay because the blankets her mother had sewn a few weeks before the car crash were folded and resting at the edge.

A bejeweled ceiling fan whirled slowly overhead. A mural of the heavens had been painted on all four walls, with a bright sun in the right corner, shining upon clouds of every size and shape.

At the left was a large bay window overlooking a thriving grove of orange trees. And behind the lush green leaves and plump pieces of fruit, she could see several mountains and even a volcano blowing thick smoke through the air. There were three breathtaking ponds, with fish that jumped up and cleared the surface.

Nicola stood there, amazed by the beauty, watching as the sun set on the horizon, reds and pinks forming, creating the perfect contrast to the lush greens and blues of the sloping land. Birds sang.

How long would Koldo want her to stay here? She’d thought...hoped...well, it didn’t matter anymore. Koldo hadn’t wanted her to go on the date—a wonderful sign—but she’d gotten so angry she’d insisted. How silly. Especially considering the fact that she’d only accepted the date because he’d disappeared those three days.

Now he was back...but she was stuck.

What was she going to do?

A rustling of clothing behind her had her spinning. Koldo stood a few feet away from the bed, with his head down and his hands clenched. Strands of hair stuck to his face and chest, both dark and light. Dirt streaked his skin. He had bite marks on his hands. His breathing was deep and even, but he was using too much force, as if the hold he had on his calm facade was tenuous.

“What’s wrong?” All thoughts of the dating disaster left her, and she raced over to him. “Were you attacked again?”

Silent, he just sort of fell back into the plush chair behind him.

Worry filled her as she crouched in front of him and rested her palms on his rock-hard thighs. Heat radiated from him, enveloping her, and she shivered for a reason that had nothing to do with temperature.

“Talk to me,” she prompted. “Please.”

Golden eyes beseeched her to...what?

She’d never seen him like this. So torn up. So tortured.

So broken.

“Koldo.” What else could she say?

He leaned back, his head thumping against the wooden arch. “I...did something. Something terrible. It was deserved. I should be thrilled with the results, but...but...”

What could he possibly have done to cause this kind of reaction? “Tell me.”

He scrubbed a hand down his face. “And watch hate fall over your features, too?” Like Laila, he laughed without humor. “No.”

The strands of hair floated from him and into the air, twirling to the ground.
He likes jokes. Tease him.
“You gave someone a mullet, didn’t you?” she asked with a small smile.

He closed his eyes, pushed out a breath and lifted his arms up and back with fierce force, punching a hole in the wall. The sharp boom jolted her.

Such a reaction... Had he actually given someone a mullet? “Koldo—”

“I’m sorry,” he croaked, focusing on her. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

Okay, so maybe not a mullet, but his doom and gloom definitely had something to do with the hair.

“Make me forget,” he pleaded. “Just for a little while. Tell me a story.”

She would do anything to bring him peace. But what could she tell a centuries-old warrior to entertain him?
Oh, I know!
“One time, a girl in my class called me and Laila freakazoid Frankensteins because of the tubes coming out of our clothing—and I know, I know, it’s a very original name, but I digress. It made Laila cry. Notice that I said
Laila.
Not me, just so we’re clear. I did
not
spend twenty minutes in the bathroom, leaning against a very unsanitary toilet, sobbing so hard snot was bubbling from my nose.”

The slightest measure of pain faded from his expression, and he ghosted his hand over the line of her jaw. “What happened next?”

She shivered as she said, “You have to guess what very polite, very mannerly thing I did to pay the little wench back.”

“What?”

“Guess.”

“You, hard-core punk that you are, called her a very naughty name.”

“Nope. I punched her in the face and broke her nose. No one calls my twin sister a freakazoid Frankenstein and gets away with it. Let that be a lesson to you. You might want to write that down and circle it.”

He barked out a laugh. A very rough, very hoarse laugh, leading her to believe he hadn’t laughed in years. If ever. And
she
had been the one to bring him to that point, pushing him past his upset, drawing him out of miry darkness and into light. And oh, he was beautiful like this.

So badly she wanted to rise up, crawl into his lap and kiss him. Just press her lips into his, taste him, relearn him and offer comfort in another way. But after their fight...

“Another story,” he said.

“I’ll give you a question instead.” And probably sound needy, but she didn’t care. “Do Sent Ones date?” Obviously they kissed, but...

His brow furrowed, as if the change of subject confused him. “Some do.”

Don’t do this. Don’t press.
“Do you?”

“No.”

Oh. The very disappointment she’d denied crashed through her. “Never?”

“Never.” He looked at her, really looked at her, his golden gaze boring deep. His arms lowered to his sides. His hands gripped the fabric of the chair, as if he had to force himself to be still.

To keep from punching another hole in the wall—or from doing something else?

“If I told you I had tortured another Sent One,” he said, “would you think I was a monster?”

Would she? “Did you?”

Silence.

Yeah. He had. And he’d felt the action, whatever it was, had been deserved. Wasn’t that what he’d said a moment ago? But still he regretted it, whether he realized it or not.

“What I’ve learned over the years is that people shouldn’t be defined by a single mistake. Everyone messes up,” she said. “You have to forgive yourself and move on.”

He ran his tongue over his teeth. “What makes you think this was my first mistake?”

She sighed. “You’re missing the point, Koldo.”

“Doesn’t matter. Whatever the point, I can’t forgive myself.”

“You can. It’s not a feeling, but a choice—and then acting on that choice. And I know
I’m
supposed to be the one seeking joy, but it’s clear you need it, too. I think your unwillingness to let go of this, whatever this is, is as much a toxin as what the demons cause.”

Another round of silence.

Well, wisdom hadn’t worked. She would try humor again. “I mean, seriously. All the best therapists on TV say that focusing on the past causes stagnation. And diarrhea.”

He barked out another laugh, then quickly sobered. “Did you ever do anything to hurt—” He pressed his lips together.

“Hurt who?”

He cleared his throat. “Where’s your sister?”

Nice dodge. But as upset as he was, she allowed it. “Sleeping in her room.” Nicola stood, held out her hand. “I know what’ll make you feel better. We’ll go to the kitchen and I’ll fix the most mediocre meal you’ve ever had the pleasure of tasting, since my specialties are cereal and microwave dinners. Meanwhile, you can give me another lecture.”

“I don’t lecture. I teach.” He placed his hand in hers, his calloused palm causing goose bumps to rise. He paused for a moment, never allowing her to help him up. Then, he shook his head as if he’d just made a decision and tugged her down.

Yelping, she tumbled into his lap and her ponytail slapped him in the face. She put her hands on his big, strong shoulders for balance—and lost her breath as he meshed his lips into hers.

Oh, sweet mercy. Just like last time, her bones instantly melted. It didn’t matter that he was too rough at first, then too soft; he branded her, claimed her, delighted her. And his taste, oh, his taste. It was decadence, pure and simple, like the summer and the winter, the spring and the fall, every season, every day, carrying her straight into eternity.

She wrapped her arms around him, holding him close. He groaned, and then...
then,
he figured out exactly how he wanted to kiss her, and the pressure evened out. He tilted his head, deepening the contact. Taking, giving. Demanding, beseeching. Owning.

It became more than a kiss, and on some level, it scared her. He was giving her something precious. And she was giving him something precious right back. But she didn’t know what that thing was—her trust? A piece of her heart?—and wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

What would happen if she fell for him? If she gave him everything?

Would he welcome her softer feelings? Or run from them?

Whatever the answers, they scared her, too. All she knew was that every point of contact reminded her that she’d never experienced anything like this—and probably never would again. How could she? He was the light in the darkness. The harbor in the storm. The hope she needed in the middle of the war.

There was no other man like him. He was one of a kind. And she wanted him to find as much pleasure with her as she was finding with him. She wanted to be what he needed.

To delight him, and not disappoint him.

His hands roamed the contours of her back...then lower. He caressed and he kneaded and...and...she was consumed, shaking, needy. Gasping, desperate. And he was...shaking, too, she realized, as affected as she was, his fingers rough, a little desperate, and the knowledge shattered her.

“Koldo.” Frantic, she tunneled her fingers under the collar of his robe. The fabric ripped away with a simple touch, granting her skin-to-skin contact, the sizzle of his flesh heating her up. And when his muscles jumped underneath her touch, as if seeking closer contact, the heat got worse—and a thousand times better. He was so soft, so hard, so...exactly what she’d always craved without ever knowing she craved it.

“Nicola,” he gasped out.

“More,” she demanded, the word escaping of its own volition. She continued to rip at his robe, finally baring the full breadth of his chest.

Sweet mercy. He. Was. Magnificent!

Bronzed and toned, stacked with muscle and sinew, chiseled by the hand of a master artist. His chest... That stomach rippled with iron bars... That perfectly dipped navel. A scar here, a scar there, but still, nothing about him was flawed. He’d been honed on a battlefield, every mark a badge of strength.

She kissed his neck, and his head fell against the back of the couch, allowing her better access to him. She kissed his shoulder, his collarbone, reckless in her bid to show him just how deeply she accepted him, whatever he’d done, whatever the future held. His grip tightened on her hips, and she lifted to once again fit their lips together. He moaned into her mouth, and took over, dominating her in the most amazing way. And she was...she was...

Struggling to breathe,
she realized, trying to suck in a single gasp of oxygen but failing. Her mind fogged.

“Nicola?” he demanded. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m...okay...will be...” No, no, no. Not this. Not now. She would ruin the moment—maybe even his feelings for her.

He tugged his robe together, the material somehow repairing itself. He cupped her face in his big hands. “Inhale slow and easy, all right? Now exhale just as slow, just as easy.” His thumbs traced her cheeks, his skin so hot she could have been pressed against the sun. “That’s the way. In. Out. Yes. Good girl.”

A minute passed. Then two, three, before she finally regained her composure. And then she kind of wished she hadn’t.