Octavian's Undoing (Sons of Judgment) (26 page)

At the end of the evening, Daniel and Daphne walked her home.

“Thank you,” she said to the two. “I really had a great time today.”

Daphne smiled, moving in to give Riley an unexpected hug. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

There had never been any mention of doing anything the day after, but Riley wasn’t going to argue. She really liked the other girl and spending time with her had been so much fun. She couldn’t say no.

“Tomorrow,” she agreed.

With a wave, the two walked away and Riley let herself into the apartment. Her father was already in bed, or at least, the door to his bedroom was closed when Riley tiptoed to her room and slipped inside. She brushed her teeth and changed before climbing into bed. The last thought to pass her mind before she drifted into sleep was Octavian and if he was all right.

There was no avoiding it. By the second week reality had begun to creep into existence in the form of bills, an empty fridge and the need for a future paycheck. Like it or not, she needed a job and since it seemed like no employer wanted to call her back, there was no longer a choice involved. Besides, Octavian’s gift for his mother was sitting in the corner of her room and she needed to get it back to him, even if she was still on the fence about walking into Final Judgment and facing the man she wanted, but couldn’t dream of having. She wasn’t even sure it was possible to love a supernatural being. Realistically, what did she have to offer someone that had money, beauty and a limitless life span? Never mind the fact that it was all still so surreal.

Nevertheless, a job was a job and she needed the money.

Her father was absent from the living room when she left her room, dressed to hopefully get her job back. She had a suspicion that he was avoiding her. There were nights when she’d be in bed reading and she’d hear him scuffling around the apartment, always returning back to his room once he was finished. It irked her that he was upset when it should have been her. It irked her even more that she felt guilty for speaking up, for finally saying what had been eating at her for the last thirteen years. A part of her wished she could go back in time and stop herself from ever speaking, while another part was relieved it was finally off her chest. But really, what had it changed? The only thing was that she basically had the apartment to herself. Granted, she’d never had a golden relationship with her father, but at least he’d been there, a physical being wandering about to not make her feel so alone. Even with her newfound friendship with Daphne, she couldn’t help the feeling of emptiness that had begun to build gradually inside her like a ticking time bomb. There were nights she’d woken up, unable to breathe, like a crushing weight had settled on her chest suffocating her. Those were the nights she thankfully hadn’t scratched the life from her arm, so maybe it was a good thing. She honestly couldn’t think which was worse, waking up to blood or unable to breathe. More and more, she was beginning to question her level of sanity and wondered if she needed a doctor. Everything was clearly psychological. Maybe she really was crazy.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t the time to deal with that. She had bigger things to worry about.

She arrived at Final Judgment with Octavian’s gift bag in one hand and her purse in the other. She stood staring at the doors of judgment, at the flames and the tormented souls trying to climb out of the pit, and shuddered. Her stomach muscles tensed as sweat accumulated in her palms and slithered down her spine, despite the ankle high blanket of snow covering the world.

“Suck it up!” she scolded herself out loud. This wasn’t the time to get all squirmy. She needed to get her shit together and get to work, if she had a job to get back to.

Exhaling heavily, she squared her shoulders, straightened her spine and marched through the doors.

Heat rushed over her like a welcoming caress, drawing her into its comforting, familiar embrace as she shook off her scarf and unzipped her jacket. She stood on the mat and studied the place she hadn’t seen in weeks.

It was empty, except for a couple sitting at the table by the window. They had their heads together, smiling and chatting like any normal couple and Riley couldn’t bring herself to believe they weren’t human. They looked human. They looked real. But they weren’t. That much she was sure of when she tilted her head a fraction to the left, just enough to still see the pair from the corner of her eye and had she not known to expect it, she would never have believed that the man had blue skin and the woman purple skin, nor would she have believed that their skins were as leathery as their bat-like wings. Never mind the talons, jagged teeth and yellow eyes.

Definitely not human. But what were they doing there during the day? Had they missed their Demon flight back to Hell? She made a mental note to ask.

“You’re back.”

Riley jumped. She whipped around, her heart in her throat. “Magnus!” She clutched at her chest. “You scared the hell outta me.”

He gave her a smirk that was a few degrees south of frigid. “That term doesn’t really make sense. Hell’s there. You can’t scare it away, although I’m sure most people wish they could.” His literal take on it, as amusing as it was, was said in a tone that suggested she was an idiot. “Are you here to see Mom or Octavian?”

Both? Neither? She had no idea.

“Is Octavian around?”

As though her question amused him, his head tipped to the side and he snickered. “Yeah, he’s around. Can he see you? Probably. Should he see you? In my opinion, no.”

“You’re upset with me,” she murmured, hurrying after him as he turned on his heels and started for the kitchen. She followed him all the way into the staff room before he stopped and faced her once more. “But you can’t blame me.”

He scrunched his face up. “I don’t think I can be upset and not blame you.”

She took a deep breath. “Okay, look, I’m not even sure I get why you’re angry with me. I haven’t done anything.”

His eyebrow arched. “Don’t think so?”

“What?” she exclaimed, throwing her arms up and letting them drop back to her sides. “What have I done?”

If it were possible to freeze someone with just a look, Magnus had the talent down to a science. His brown eyes were twin chips of black ice as they bore down on her with hatred that felt like a physical slap. “You hurt my brother. I don’t need much more reason than that. I’ve killed people for less. I don’t have much in this crappy existence, but I have my family and I’ll be damned if I let some stupid human hurt one of them.”

“That isn’t fair.” Her voice came out small, barely a whisper. “I didn’t ask to be thrown into all this. I didn’t ask to fall for a guy that isn’t even human. It just happened and I have no idea what I’m supposed to do next so if you have some magical guidebook, I’d love to borrow it.”

“You want advice?” He closed the space between them so she had no choice but to crane her neck back to peer up into his thunderous expression. “I want you out of Octavian’s life, Ms. Masters. I want you gone, and you’ll learn very quickly that I always get what I want, because, unlike my brothers, I have no qualm getting my hands dirty to accomplish it.” He searched her face, every rake cutting into her as though he were using a scalpel. “Which is why I’m going to offer you a chance to walk out of here alive. Tell me what it will take to make you disappear willingly or I take matters into my hands and you won’t like the outcome.”

Riley paled, the spit in her mouth turning to ash. “What?”

“Name your price, Ms. Masters.”

Riley shook her head incredulously. “Are you trying to buy me off?”

His smirk was like razorblades. “Exactly.”

The rage was blinding. Riley couldn’t even register it rearing its head until the sharp crack of skin meeting skin splintered the room and her handprint blazed crimson across the left side of his handsome face. Her palm burned, her wrist hurt and she was trembling from head to toe with anger and shock, but she stared hard into his shadowed eyes.

“How dare you!” she hissed through tightly clenched teeth. “You can’t buy me, Maxwell. I care about Octavian, probably more than is wise considering the situation, but damn you if you think you can turn what I feel into something cheap and dirty.”

He moved with such speeds that she never saw his hands coming until they were shackles around her upper arms and she was shoved back into the wall. She cried out, not from pain, but from the disbelief of the attack.

“Everyone can be bought, Riley.
Everyone.
It’s just a matter of the cost.”

Furious, she planted her fists against his chest and shoved. It didn’t do much except sprain her wrists, but it felt satisfying all the same to see the flicker of surprise in his eyes. “Not me! Now get your hands off me.”

He did. His hands fell away and he took two full steps back. “You said fall.”

Breathing hard, Riley shoved off the wall and glared at him. “What?”

His head tipped to the side as his eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “You said, you never asked to fall for a guy that wasn’t human.”

“So?”

“Did you mean it?”

“Mean what, you psycho?”

A ghost of a grin touched his face, transforming him into the guy she’d first met. “Have you fallen for my brother, Ms. Masters?”

Heat crawled into her cheeks, making the back of her eyes burn before she quickly averted them. “That isn’t any of your business.”

“On the contrary. I’m making it my business. Yes or no?”

“I don’t know,” she confessed. “I’m still trying to figure that out myself.”

He made a quiet humming sound of interest. “He’s in his room.” He walked to the door, hands in his pockets and paused on the threshold. He glanced back. “Figure it out quickly, Ms. Masters. If you go up there, you’ll be giving him hope and if you take that away, I’ll make you beg me for death.”

Shaken, Riley stayed where she was for several long moments trying to regroup her scattered emotions before willing her wobbly legs to carry her out of the room.

The kitchen was empty. Even Gorje was missing which would have seemed odd on any other given day, but made no impression on her as she moved quietly to the door leading upstairs. Her fingers, damp with sweat, slipped around the knob as she tried to grip it. She wiped her palms on her jeans before prying open the door and slipping through. Her feet made no sound as she followed the corridor to the stairs. The Archangel, Michael, glowered down at her in all of his divine wrath. Riley tried not to make eye contact as she hurried up to the second landing. From there, it was purely guesswork and a lot of relying on her memory to navigate the winding hallways to the familiar set of doors.

They were closed firmly. She wondered if she should make her presence known, after all, she was walking into another person’s living space. But before she could weigh the pros and cons of what she was about to do, her body had already made up its mind. Her fist knocked. Riley cursed her hand, cursed the anxious ripples racing through her and the need driving her. The ache was a physical force compressing her from all sides.

“What?” came an annoyed response from the other side.

Having made it that far, she turned the knob and eased her way inside.

No one was there at first glance. The room appeared dark and empty. For a moment she wondered if she had imagined the voice in her desperation, but then she spotted him, a dark figure reclined on the bed under a patch of pale light spilling through the sheer curtains hanging over the window. He was so still, one arm tossed carelessly over his eyes. He was fully dressed right down to his boots. But it was the sight of him, the painfully beautiful shape of his body that had her heart taking an involuntary leap in her chest. Her breath caught as she fought to control the sandstorm of sensations bearing down on her, choking her with the indecision of what to feel first. There was just so much, most of it relief at finally being near him again. The suffocation she’d felt the last few weeks melted away the longer she drank him in and was replaced by a deep-seated longing that made her want to weep, to crawl into bed with him and beg him never to let her go again.

“Magnus?”

Riley stiffened, her feet forming roots into the hardwood floor.

“Don’t be a jackass,” he muttered. “I can hear your breathing.”

Numb from the brain down, Riley couldn’t think of a single thing to say, but her mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water.