Death's Redemption (The Eternal Lovers Series) (15 page)

“Woman,” he growled, not releasing her arm. “You’ve grown too accustomed to hitting me. No more. Do you understand?”

“Did you sleep with it?” She lashed out. And it so wasn’t what she’d meant to say. It really wasn’t. She wanted to rant and rail and tell him to piss off. Tell him anything, anything but asking,
Did you sleep with it?

He jerked, seeming astonished by her question. The firmness of his grasp didn’t let up an inch. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“You seduced it. What else did that devil tell you, eh? What else does it know about me?”

Mila had grown up almost on her own. She’d lost her gran and her mom to the demon when she’d been fifteen. They’d never had a chance to tell her everything, to teach her how to survive. But she’d learned, she’d figured it out. Even thought she’d been somewhat successful at it. And she’d grown careless and cocky because of it. Sixteen years on her own, she’d thought working with HPA would be possible. Feasible. That for once in her life she could use her gifts to make a difference. Not to hide it from the world, but to make her life matter. She’d been stupid taking such a high-visibility job, but she’d only been a freelancer, working on the side when they needed help with a cold case or serial killers. If she hadn’t helped that girl, if she hadn’t stepped in, made a scene at a bar, maybe things would be different now. She’d still be living in the basement of that wonderful Ms. Henley, who’d baked her chocolate chip cookies every weekend and been one of the few people she knew who still made her lemonade the old-fashioned way.

She’d lost so much. Everything. And maybe it was stupid to have done it, but somehow, without her even realizing it, she’d begun to trust this man. The man whose eyes had been pumped full of terror when he’d found she’d stabbed herself in George’s cave, the man who’d brought down that hideous deer just to make her eat something. It’d meant something, or at least she’d hoped so. Stupid her. Trusting was what always got her people killed. It was why they always scurried and hid like rats.

Mila had dared to live, and it had cost her everything.

Where there’d been coldness before, now his eyes seemed perplexed and at a complete loss.

“I did not have sex with the shadow,” he finally answered, so low she had to strain to hear him.

She sniffed. “It doesn’t matter.”

He dropped his hands, his look growing earnest. “What is this about, O’Fallen?”

Squeezing her eyes shut, she bit the corner of her lip.

“O’Fallen?”

“Will you stop calling me that!” And that was all she could say, because her eyes were starting to tear up; there was heat building behind them, and if she didn’t leave, he’d see it. He’d be witness to her misery, her fears, and she couldn’t have that because it showed weakness. Gave him something else to exploit.

“Mila!” he barked at her back, but she was halfway to the bank and she wasn’t stopping.

Jumping out of the water, landing gracefully onto a patch of grass, she ran. He might be faster than her, but she was plenty fast in her own right. Wind rushed through her ears as her legs chewed up the ground.

She’d barely contained her tears in front of him, but they were falling freely now. Trees passed in a blur. She knew it was only a matter of time till he caught her. This was never about running away, it was just about getting some time to herself.

Mila didn’t hear the snapping of twigs, or the rustling of leaves behind her. He wasn’t following.

Exhaustion claimed her. A settling in the bones type of weariness that made her finally stumble to her knees and drop to the soft grass beneath, crying. She released it. Everything. She had to, so she could move on.

One thing her gran had always told her: don’t try to outrun the pain or the past, let it come, let the tears flow, and then let it go.

This was her way of finally letting it go. The impossible wish that somehow she could roll back time long enough for her not to die, not to be caught by those vampires, that none of this had ever happened, the pain of being a monster she never wanted to be, of being stuck with a man she didn’t know, didn’t really like. Of all the crazy emotions that made her feel things her brain didn’t want. Pain, passion, lust, need, hate. That wasn’t her. Before this, she’d been a good person. Quiet and shy, but good.

Now she barely recognized herself. Who was she? A vampire? A shifter? What?

“Woman.” His voice was so low, so heartfelt, that the tears came harder.

Tucking her face into her knees, she shook her head, grateful for her long hair shielding her face. “Go away, Frenzy. I don’t want to fight anymore.”

“I did not have sex with that thing. You have to know that.”

Wiping a tear with the back of her hand, she sniffed and noticed he’d taken the time to redress. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t care.”

“Then what is this?” She felt his movement, felt his hot gaze boring into her skull. Knew that if she didn’t look up he’d just continue to stay where he was.

Gritting her teeth, she peeked at him. “This is me having my first freak-out since this all went down. Do you think for a second any of what happened has been easy on me, Frenzy? Knowing you don’t want the hassle of ‘saving me’”—she finger quoted—“that one second I feel the very life slip out of my body, and the next I’m waking up and nothing makes sense anymore. The world I thought I knew, the one I’d lived in for thirty-two years, no longer makes sense.”

His lips twitched, as if he were grappling with some sort of emotion, before finally huffing loudly and tucking a stray curl of hair behind her ear. “I’m as lost as you, woman. This isn’t easy for me either. I don’t know how to do this.”

“Do what?”

“Keep you safe.” His voice was whisper soft, the world felt suddenly pregnant with expectation. “All we do is quarrel, and it makes me…”

Rubbing her nose, she looked at him completely. “What?”

Running fingers through his hair, he shrugged. “I’ve been alone for years. I’ve not been around mortals for centuries.”

“But I thought you were a grim reaper? Your job is to carry souls of mortals to the afterlife, right?” She cocked her head.

Folding his arms across his knees, he nodded. “It is.” He sighed. “You want to know a truth, O’Fallen?”

It was on the tip of her tongue to remind him yet again that her name was Mila, not O’Fallen, but it really didn’t matter. They were finally talking and she realized she needed to hear these things, because if she was going to trust herself to this man, she needed to know why.

Just then an image came to her. Odd, because since her death she hadn’t had a vision. A part of her wondered if perhaps she’d lost her abilities since her monstrous ones had manifested themselves.

It was Frenzy. But he wasn’t dressed as he was now. In fact, he was dressed as if from a completely different era.

Wearing a navy coat that came to his waist with long tails that dangled to the backs of his cream-trousered knees. There were gold chains dangling from his pockets and in his hand he held an elegant-looking top hat. His shock of red hair was caught back with a black silk hair bow.

She had no idea which decade he was in, but it looked old. Very historic.

One thing she immediately noted about him. There was no hardness in his eyes. He was smiling, laughing even. Bent over a mantel, reading by firelight to a woman dressed in a provocative red gown with white lace decorating the tops of her modest breasts.

Her face was plain. Her mouth was a little too thin, her nose a little too sharp, and she was covered in freckles. The most arresting feature on her was her eyes.

Eyes eerily similar to Mila’s own.

Almond-shaped, with long fanning black lashes. Molten-amber colored. The way they stared at Frenzy, as if he was her world. Eyes were the window to the soul. You could read the truth of a person in their gaze. Whether they laughed often, or cried much. Whether they’d seen the worst of life, or were accustomed to the frivolity of wealth and good fortune.

The woman’s eyes sparkled, danced as they snaked down Frenzy’s fine masculine form. There was hunger, laughter, desire so sharp Mila inhaled a breath at the honesty of it.

Frenzy stared at her with the same level of need. While his beauty definitely outranked hers, he didn’t see her that way. To him, they were equals.

But then the scene shifted and she was no longer viewing the world through Frenzy’s eyes, she was in the woman’s.

It wasn’t often Mila could witness the thoughts of a ghost; generally she needed to be within the vicinity of the person to see their life. But it wasn’t usual for her to witness the past either. Only on rare occasions.

But Frenzy was an immortal whose past was intricately entwined with his future.

The woman’s name had been Adrianna. She was naked in a room with only a four-poster bed and white fluttering curtains. Moonlight sliced across her body. A dark shadow stood to the side.

Her porcelain skin gleamed as she writhed and moaned on the mattress, the masses of her dark hair the only coverings she wore draped across her breasts. She was waiting for her lover, playing with herself, getting ready for him. She’d convince him to marry her this time; she loved him. Soon her belly would be full of his child. He’d have no other option. He’d save her from being forced to marry the ancient Lord Abernathy.

Finally she spotted the shadow and jumped, springing to a sitting position, wrapping the sheet firmly around her body. “You scared me, lover.” Then relaxing, she spread her arms, dropping the sheet and running a hand down the vee of her breasts.

But when the man stepped into moonlight and she got a good look at his face, she knew it was not Frenzy. The features were blurred and hard to make out, but the hair was blond, not the fiery red of her fallen angel.

Then he was upon her and there was blood. So much blood…

Jerking, Mila’s eyes opened wide and she stared at Frenzy with her heart trapped in her throat. He was talking, saying things she could hardly understand. Hand trembling, she planted her palm against her breast, feeling the echoing beat of fear and Adrianna’s adrenaline still pumping through her.

“…Do you understand now?”

Pinching the bridge of her nose, mouth tasting dry and parched, she shook her head. She’d not caught any of what he’d said. His hands were on her shoulders and he was looking at her strangely, eyes roaming all across her face.

“What’s happened?”

Her eyes jerked to his. “What do you mean?”

“I was talking to you, but it was as if you weren’t there. You were staring through me and now your pulse is beating out of control. Did you see something?”

Uncanny how he’d jump to that conclusion. He barely knew her. How much could she trust him?

“Tell me,” he softly urged.

There were few times in her life when she’d shared a vision, and even when she did, she didn’t give a complete accounting, only what needed to be known. This wasn’t even a future she’d seen, but a past.

A past involving a woman with her eyes. A woman he’d obviously adored, a woman who’d maybe loved him back, but loved more what he could do for her. She bit the inside of her cheek.

Shrugging out of his grip, she took a step back, tucking a curl of hair behind her ear. Something about the two visions she’d seen made her think this woman had meant a lot to Frenzy. In all likelihood, she could be the very reason why he was now so hostile to mortals.

His lover had been brutally executed. Garroted. She squeezed her eyes shut.

“You can tell me.” He said it again, so softly. So gently.

And it made her angry.

Furious.

Mila had always prided herself on containing her emotions, letting few see how she really felt. Because revealing too much made a person vulnerable. All her life she’d been running, forced to keep one step ahead. She’d screwed up so bad. Ruined it all because she’d allowed a moment of weakness in. But since dying, she’d lost her ability to remain neutral, to keep a lid on it. What she felt, she did, and she couldn’t stop herself.

“Leave me alone,” she hissed. “Just leave me alone.” She didn’t need his sympathy or understanding. Why was he trying to change the way they played this game now? She knew where she stood with him.

Whether he copped to it or not, he was her captor. Point. Blank. Period. He wouldn’t help her die. All her life all she’d done was run and hide. And now death would be more of the same.

He looked as if she’d smacked him. Nose curling, upper lip pulling back, it was obvious she’d pissed him off.

Well, good.

So was she.

“I’m tired of all this shit!” she screamed. “Tired of running, tired of this life. Why keep me like this? You coming to me, trying to gain my sympathy; stop it!”

She tried to turn away from him. To run off again, it was fruitless and pointless, but it was all she knew.

“I’m not trying to gain anything!” he snapped. “You think I wanted this? I didn’t. But we’re stuck together.”

“Why won’t you just leave me to die? You don’t have to stay here. You don’t have to keep me safe. Just let me go, Frenzy. Let me go.” Her eyes burned, but she’d be damned if she cried again.

She was done being weak, done feeling sorry for herself. Holding her head high, she challenged him, never blinking or swerving from his cold, hard gaze.

“You’d love that, wouldn’t you?”

There was no point in answering; he obviously wasn’t wanting one anyway.

“Grow up, O’Fallen. This is the real world.” He gestured around the empty field. “This is it. It doesn’t get better. There is no white knight to rescue you. Death doesn’t come for us all.” His smile was pure malice, full of teeth and sarcasm. “Get one thing through your fool skull right now: you and me, we’re in this together. I didn’t get a choice in this matter either. You were the last person,” he emphasized, “in the world I would
ever
have wanted to tie myself to. But I’m mature enough to understand there is no getting out. We either fix this, or we make our eternity a living hell.”

His words shook her, brought the blasted tears out. Because he was freaking right. And she hated that he was. Hated that if she said otherwise it would just be her acting like an immature little baby. No matter how much she wanted to go back to what she once was, that night with the vampires had happened.