The Beckoning of Broken Things (The Beckoning Series) (13 page)

The sound of voices grow
s louder, and Rafe saunters through the doorway, his arms around both women. When Amalia and Renata see Carlos, they rush over.

Portuguese flies back and forth.

Rafe whistles. “Good work, Engles. I’m impressed.”

“Really?” I say, overflowing with pride.

“Really. It takes a master to break a sorcerer’s spell. And, for one as skilled as Armando, it takes a master’s master. A true genius.”

“I’ve got great beginner’s luck. I hope I got his face right. No one seems to be complaining over there.”

“What Armando did was a very real looking illusion. When you restored him, DNA took over. Even you can’t alter a person’s true DNA. All you did was restore him back to fully human. Great work, Marissa.”

I bask in his praise for a moment before jealousy snakes its way into my heart. “So
, have you made a date with one of the women?”

“As a matter of fact,” Rafe begins, clearly pleased with himself.

I immediately interrupt him. “I really don’t want to hear any more. That’s enough. Just do your business. I don’t want to know about it.”

Rafe’s
reddish-blond eyebrows arch sky high. “I was going to say, as a matter of fact, no. If I were to screw one of those lovely ladies’, I’d be in trouble.”

My gut relaxes. “What kind of trouble?”

“They’d grow very attached to me. You know and have seen for yourself that I’m a kind of drug. That’s one of the side effects of being me, as you know. I was actually quite proud of myself for not just taking them both upstairs and doing them. Thanks for bursting my bubble.”

“You would have taken them both upstairs?”

“Yes. It may have been fun. But I’d have twice the trouble. Three times by the look of it.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’d have your jealousy and theirs to deal with. A whole lot of cat fights.” He taps my nose with his fingertip, then, shakes his head. “You can’t play this both ways. You refuse to have sex with me. I have needs and not just ordinary ones. I told you I’ve never had sex with someone I’ve fallen in love with. I’ve never been in love before in my life.”

I get a weird shiver in my stomach when he says this.
Has he fallen in love with me?

“
Instead, I’m going to have to find someone to fuck or else I might put you in harm again, and
that,
for me, is a no go. I’ll walk away from you first. And that would be one of the most painful things I could do.” He looks thoughtful. “Some people have used my berserker rage.”

“How so?”

“When a job is particularly…” His eyes move up and to the left as if he’s searching for the right word. “When a job is particularly intense…”

“Do you mean violent? Gruesome? Ghastly?
Deadly?” I interject.

His lips press into a line. “When the job calls for intensity, I’ve be
en caged for days. I’ll be fed and given plenty to drink, but no physical contact with another soul - no touch whatsoever. My food and beverages are pushed into the cage with a metal rod. The first couple of days are intense, but I can manage. By the third day, I can no longer sleep. All I can do is pace. Rage consumes me. I become extremely violent. All of the plates they pass through the bars will be smashed to bits. I shred the bedding. Shatter the glasses. Slice my hands with the glass shards. Anything for some relief. When I can break free from the metal cage with my bare hands, they put me to their own good use.” He makes air quotes around the last two words. “When I’m in that place and I have a job to do, I’m a trained, tightly controlled killer and an out of control berserker. I have a job to do and a reward to seek - relief from the rage.” His face is grim, serious.

I cock my head at him, wondering if what I’m seeing is disgust
- or if that’s merely what I am thinking. “That seems horrid,” I say softly.

“It’s a means to an end.
It’s a job. Nothing more. I’m paid handsomely when I’m done, with women, men, and money. Whatever flavor of pastime I want. Whatever currency I desire.”

My face squeezes into a frown. “I should steer clear of you.”

His face falls and freezes, like someone has flash frozen him. “If that’s what you want.”

The women are still consoling Carlos. I realize I’m in my own world right now with this deadly man. “You seem dangerous.”

“Not to you.”

I rub my neck, remembering what happened a short while ago
out by the garage. “That’s debatable.”

He winces. “That was a mistake. One that I will try my best to never repeat.” His eyes flick to the trio in the corner and back to me. “I do my job to the best of my abilities. I’m very good at what I do.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.”

His face takes on a new look of determination. “I’m trying to explain to you that it’s just a job.”

“A job in which people end up dead, no doubt. Tortured, perhaps. Disfigured. Maimed. Why are you telling me this, anyway? I could use your secrets against you, you know.”

“I know. I haven’t told you anything essential
that would harm me. This is just my way of…” He turns his head away from me.

“Your way of what?”

He leans close to me and brings his mouth up to my ear. He whispers, “It’s just my way of letting you in by telling you things I’ve
never
shared with another soul. I’m
trying
, you know.”

As the warm air from his mouth lands on
the side of my face, I’m back to where we were when we were interrupted by the scream. A weird stirring mixes up my insides. “I didn’t ask you to,” I whisper back.

Rafe doesn’t move away. He keeps his head close to mine, as if drinking in this much contact is enough for now.
His cheek presses on mine gently, softly, much like a kitten paw. He strokes my face with his, making imperceptible little movements. The side of his face makes a small circle against mine. He hasn’t shaved for two days. His stubble scrapes against my tender flesh.

I close my eyes and shudder.
The contact is indescribably delicious. The touch of his skin seeps slowly down to my core, like warm, thick, honeyed heat. I inhale deeply, as if attempting to memorize his signature.
Copper. Sunlight. Some exotic spice. Blood. And the dark, damp, shadowed woods on a warm day.

“Do you have it captured to memory?” he whispers.

“What?”

“My essence.”

“Yes.”

“Good. I caught yours on the day that we met. Memorized it. Brought it to my heart and tucked it
there as a talisman. It’s like I knew everything would be okay from having met you.”

Something about this thrills me to no end.
It also makes me hesitant. Awkward. Shy. Tongue-tied. I don’t know what to say next. “Thank you,” is all I can manage to say.

“You’re welcome,” he says
softly and then leans away from me.

As before, I’m left with longing.
Come back. Touch me some more,
I think, but I dare not speak my desires out loud. Our eyes lock for one long, long moment. And I realize I don’t need to say a thing. He already knows.

Marissa can never find me here. I won’t allow it.

It’s so dark where I am I cannot see a thing. I’ve been here, what? A week? A month? A year? A lifetime? Mortals don’t get how much light shapes their worlds. When it’s absent, you plunge into a formless universe shaped by thought
, awareness, and sense. I have to use every faculty I own to move through this non-landscape - every faculty but sight. I don’t wear any clothes down here. I need my skin to be part of my sensing apparatus. Every piece of me has to remain alert, watchful, aware. This is my world. Mine. I command every square inch of it. I must continue to familiarize myself with the darkness, lest the darkness consumes me. I cannot allow that to happen. I must remain vigilant.

My skin tingles as I stalk through the darkness. Every hair stands on end, on high alert. Every ripple of air, every breeze,
every current, I sense it. Every cough, crunch of bones, vomit of stomach contents, every meal that the demons, devils and evil creatures consume - I hear and smell it all. I hear their grunts, snores, howls and whimpers. I hear their screams. I hear things that make my hair stand on end. I hear it but I cannot see it. I smell it but I cannot witness it. I sense it but there is no visual on what’s before me unless the demon is glowing for a brief second. Then it’s a snapshot of horror - horror that rarely fazes me before it extinguishes itself. That kind of light show instance seldom happens in here.

After capturing El Demonio’s power, I threw myself in here. It was impulsive to
seize his power. I’m glad I did it, though.
Oh,
God
.
Heady pleasure.
I sucked it up through every pore, every cell in my body. I searched his lair for hidden remnants and consumed those, too. It was intoxicating. I got so aroused all I wanted to do was plunge into Marissa and do her good and hard - for days.
Oh, God - to stroke that silken cauldron of light.
Whenever I think of her, I’m immediately hard. I reach down to grab my erection. Give it a few strokes.

After I absorbed all th
at power, I wanted to share myself with her. But then she was snatched away. Locked tight in a mental hospital by her aunt and sister. Mortals. Bah! They never cease to amaze me with their tiny brains. “Magic is all around them! Danger is around every corner,” I mutter. And they only see what their thimble-like minds will allow.

This feels good.
This is hot. Thinking about Marissa while pleasuring myself is incredible.
I’ve been doing it a lot in here. What else is there? My hand moves up and down along my rock hard shaft, imaging that I’m sliding along her satin folds, melted into her pillowy breasts, pressed against her sweat-covered belly, moving faster and faster until I shoot my release into the darkness. Groaning, I call out to her. “Oh, God! Marissa!” I know this release is only temporary. If I keep thinking about her, I’ll be hard again in a second. I can’t stop myself. I can’t contain my desire for her. More words emerge from my soul. “Marissa. I can’t live without you. I…I…I can’t live with you.”

Possessing
this much power has changed me. That’s why I cannot live with her. I may not be able to be around her without harming her. I’m changing every day, I can feel it. Power courses through me. My veins and arteries are reshaping to accommodate it, I know it. Sometimes when I rest - I never sleep anymore - when I rest, my body pulses with red heat. It’s like I’m viewing myself with a thermal imaging camera. Instead of a spectrum of colors, like most humans possess…blues and greens and oranges and yellows…my body appears pure shimmering red. I am not human. I am…I don’t know what I am. I only know I have changed. Am changing. Don’t know when the transformation will end.

I open my mind to her.
I need to know she’s alive and well.
Marissa.

Daniel?

I’m growing darker. I…I…stay away from me. Don’t find me. Please.

What’s going on?

I’m getting darker by the minute. All this power. All this…

I quickly close the bridge between our minds.
She must not sense me. If I allow too much access, she’ll know I’m becoming a freak of nature. A dark force. A deadly force.

I’d been searching for Marissa for my entire lifetime and didn’t know it. I didn’t know until I met her.
I was immediately captivated. She’s the one. The one I’ve been waiting for. My equal. My one true match. Her powers are greater than she knows.
Hell, she even claimed Chiara.
I tried. I trained and I tried. And Marissa, this untrained Light Rebel…I double up with bitter laughter.
This untrained Light Rebel claims what I trained my entire life to claim.

I was afraid she wouldn’t accept me. I bound our souls, just as my father did with my mother.

As if he read my mind, my father’s voice booms through the darkness. “Daniel? How are you faring in your dark world?”

“What do you want,
Father?
” I speak to him coolly, calmly. He’s been doing this lately. Throwing his voice down here. I don’t ever let it get to me. “Having a hard day, are you? Need some sort of pep talk?” And then I immediately begin my search. He’s locked me down in my dark world. I have no idea how he did it. He’s not as strong as I am. But he must have left a breach. Every sorcerer worth their salt stitches an opening into their spell. If an enemy is skilled enough to find it, the person who cast the spell will know. They’ll know and take swift action. The same kind of swift action I’m going to take against my demon asshole father.

“Nothing. Just checking on my son, that’s all.” He laughs.

I can’t wait to crush his head. To cave his skull in. To carve his eyeballs out of the bony sockets with my fingernails. I have to keep him talking. Have to keep the conversation going so I can find the breach. “What’s doing in your world, Father of Darkness?”

He laughs again. “That’s you
r never-to-be offspring’s title, not mine, dear boy. I am beyond darkness. I am infinite power. Didn’t you hear that I consumed El Demonio’s power?”

He’s such a dick. He goes around telling everyone that he consumed it. He has no idea that I possess every scrap of it. “I’m scared,” I answer offhandedly. I’m moving swiftly through the darkness. My hands
are extended, and I’m searching, seeking his intended mistake.

“You should be. You have no idea what I’m capable of.”

“Ooh. Enlighten me, Dad. Let me know what a badass you’ve become. I don’t see how you could get any worse.”

His voice turns into a snarl. “You know nothing, boy. You don’t know the kinds of injustices I’ve faced to become who I am today.”

Searching, searching, searching…
there…is that a ripple? A tear?
My heart begins to pound. Excitement surges.
Is this it? Is this the breach?

A tiny shape lights up. It’s all sharp teeth
, gaping maw, red eyes, and stomach cavity. I bat it away and its light extinguishes. It’s nothing but a firefly demon, resting like a bat in a cave until I woke it up. “Tell me, Father. Tell me how you’ve suffered. Tell me what happened to you that caused you to force my mother to leave and hide from you.” I hear nothing. More nothing. Still nothing.
Shit. That one scared him away.

Marissa told me my mother’s alive somewhere.
Good. I hope she’s safe. I love my mom.
She was a good mom. She had to live with a lot of abuse, living with my father. He thinks he’s a ladies’ man. He was always stepping out on my mom. Secretly, I’ve always been glad she escaped despite the soul-binding. Sure, their souls are still bound, but he can’t find her. Only thing is, I can’t find her either. I miss her sometimes.

Another bitter laugh escapes my throat.
What was I doing when I bound my soul to Marissa’s without asking permission?
That’s unheard of. No one has ever done that before as far as I know. Even my father asked my mother before they bound their souls, when he seemed to be a kind and decent man. That’s a far more sacred vow than a simple, foolish human marriage. It lasts throughout time.
That’s a binding that can only be undone if…
I quash that thought. It doesn’t matter that there’s a small clause that allows for the undoing. I may be the only one who knows that clause.
What lives with me, dies with me.
“Ha!”

Eyes closed, eyes open, I can’t tell, I continue searching for the breach, that tiny tear that will allow me to leave this place of darkness.
And then what?
I can’t imagine what I will do. I keep my sights focused on one thing and one thing alone - to escape this place and put my father to rest for once and for all. And I pace. And I listen to the darkness. The only thing that keeps me from being absorbed into this world is Marissa. She is the heartbeat that keeps me alive.