True Intentions (28 page)

"I
was
trying to kiss you. That's what I was doing," he says, his voice as cold as ice.

I don't hold back any longer.

"I know
what
you are," I confess as I wipe his taste off my lips. I instinctively raise my voice, although it's not like anyone can hear me or come to my rescue now.

I'm screwed.

How do I keep getting myself into these situations to begin with?

Aren't there any cute,
human
guys left in California?

"Okay . . . I don't care." He leans back and cracks his knuckles.

"Why are you doing this, I trusted you?"

My eyes begin to burn; hot tears blur my vision.

Am I that stupid?

I should have never allowed myself to be alone with William.

I know better
.

I'm at his mercy.

William flexes his jaw. He doesn't reply to my "why are you doing this" question.

He simply watches me as if he's contemplating what to do.

Just make it as quick and painless as possible.

After everything that has happened in the last eight months, I'm not sure how much more pain I can handle.

"Do you know why I was sent here?" he asks, his voice cold.

"No," I whisper.

I knew
.

"I thought this was going to be simple. A quick in and out. But no! You had to complicate everything," he continues.

I repeat his last sentence in my mind.

He coils his hands tightly.

My pulse increases in response to his stress. I'm not sure I'm following what he's saying.

How did I complicate this?

He looks over the side of the boat.

"I wasn't sent here to kill you. I'm not a demon, although I'm beginning to wonder if it would have been easier. I thought this role would be a piece of cake. You should have found comfort in my arms, and then I would be able to keep you protected."

"Protected?"

"Yes, protected." He still won't look at me. "Believe it or not, I was sent here by God, not Lucifer."

"What?"

"God put me here to protect you. My job was to pretend to be one of them, that way I could find out how Lucifer would try to destroy you. I've been stuck here playing this crappy undercover role since November. But now, I can't keep up this charade. I refuse to keep lying to you anymore."

"Why?" My voice cracks through my stiff lips.

"Because . . ." he hesitates, looking for the right words. "I don't know."

Then he tries again. "Because . . . I've fallen for you. I don't want to be away from you."

I tug his arm, so he has to turn around and look at me.

With a shame-filled expression, he continues. "I expected you to be hurt after you broke it off with that guy of yours. But I let it happen 'cause it gave me an easy way into your life, and I couldn't break cover. Theo and Mallory set it up perfectly."

Mallory? Did he say Mallory?

"Mallory? Set what up perfectly?"

"Yes, your bud, Mallory. She and Theo set up your boyfriend. Mallory blackmailed him with the threat she'd expose your cousin secret to your mom if he didn't kiss her. Theo took pictures of the entire event, so she could convince you he cheated. Mallory was certain you'd break up with him. Then you'd be unprotected.

I can't find the right words to respond.

My heart aches.

Mallory?
She set me up, so I would break up with Sam? So I'd be destroyed? My best friend in the entire world would do that to me?

No, it can't be true . . . .

My head is spinning. I'm not sure where the truth begins and all the lies stop anymore.

"Why are you telling me this?" I demand, my eyes feeling grainy. Tears instantly form in the corners. I blink rapidly trying to stop them from spilling over.

He looks up. I can see the shame slowly disappearing from his face.

"I'm telling you this for
one
reason—I want to be with you. I don't want to lie to you. I want you to love me in spite of who I am. I don't want to protect you
from a
distance
any longer."

William runs his fingers through his hair and continues. "All I want is for you to look at me in the same way as you do at that Sam guy. The way you looked at him at the lake before you broke up."

My eyes widen in disbelief. "You followed me?"

William nods. "I was watching from the forest. I saw how you looked at him."

Memories flash in my mind from all that has happened since I met Sam. The Chicago trip. Mallory's letter. Breaking up and meeting William.

I put my head down to my lap hoping this is all a bad dream, and I will wake up soon.

He reaches out with his hand and touches my left shoulder.

"I just want you to know that I had nothing to do with Aiden's death. I wasn't involved with Lucifer then. God sent me here to go undercover after Aiden was killed, to make sure you were safe."

"Aiden? Lucifer had something to do with Aiden's death?" I spit out.

William nods.

"Lucifer found out Aiden had the gift. That's why Lucifer had him killed in an
accident.
Lucifer didn't know Aiden had a twin sister. That's why God sent me here to make sure they didn't realize Aiden wasn't the only one with the gift. Then Sam discovered you and
practically obsessed over you
," William says in a disapproving tone.

"Sam's feelings for you were easy to read. Lucifer put the pieces together and—"

"Lucifer had Aiden killed?" I interrupt. I have the sudden urge to throw up. Just the idea that Satan killed my brother and father because of this
so called gift
makes me sick.

It all makes sense. The guy who checked Aiden's pulse must have been sent by Satan. Duh . . . . He was making sure Aiden was dead. That's why he never checked on anyone else in the car. All he cared about was making sure Aiden didn't survive.

I'm unable to control my emotions any longer. Tears pour down my face.

"I . . ." my weak voice trails away. I want to tell him I'm on an empty gas tank emotionally. I don't know what I feel any longer. I'm torn. But I can't tell him that. This situation is already complicated, why make it worse?

Instead I finish with, "I need time alone."

William doesn't say another word. He climbs into the driver's seat of the Malibu and turns the ignition.

Chapter Thirty-Seven - Entrapment

The closet is dark. Sam can't even see his hand in front of him. He hears the bedroom door creak open and footsteps shuffling on the bedroom carpet. He strains to distinguish between multiple noises. It sounds like two sets of shoes. Questions flood his mind. Is there someone else here with William?

Crap.

He had hoped William would be alone. He instantly visualizes Ava entering the bedroom with William.

Maybe to give up her virginity . . . .

He shudders. If she is here, that's a costly complication. William will use her as a shield.

The immortal flesh on the back of his neck crawls. The last thing he wants is for William to use Ava as a pawn in this mess. And there's another issue to consider. Even if he could kill William with Ava present, the killing of an immortal is not something he wants Ava to witness. He remembers a movie in which a girl witnessed a violent act performed by her father. It caused permanent scars on her psyche, and she ended up in a mental institution for the remainder of her life. Could witnessing such violence cause permanent scars on the girl he loves—the girl he is willing to die for?

As he attempts to relax through deep breathing, Walter enters his minds. Ava witnessed Sam beating Walter's face in. Maybe she is a hell of a lot stronger than he is giving her credit for.

Without warning, the footsteps stop, and the bed squeaks as if someone just sat down. Sam suppresses his desire to crack open the closet door and peek. A sweat droplet rolls down the side of his face. The closet is extremely warm, and Sam's anger isn't helping any.

Sam closes his eyes, trying to remove the vision of Ava burned in his memory and focus on the task in hand.

He hears more footsteps on the carpet. He leans forward to place his ear as close as possible to the closet door. It's impossible to tell if the steps are from a male or female. He waits for voices, but then the stereo is turned on.

Shit . . . .

The music playing is from the 1990s. It's a band called Nirvana. Not exactly the type of music a guy would choose to set the mood for sex. Sam growls at the thought.

I can't wait to destroy him, to rip his head off
.

Typically, all the dark angels get along without much conflict. Once in a while, two angels will be working on the same human, but that is very uncommon. There are plenty of humans to go around. In the rare circumstance there is an irresolvable difference, Lucifer has the final say. He leaves no room for negotiations.

Sam's mind immediately jolts back from his thoughts to the voices coming from outside the closet. With the stupid music playing, he can't tell if either voice belongs to a female. But one thing is for certain, there are definitely two of them. Each voice is different.

Sam reconsiders his game plan. Once he leaves the closet, he will have to attack William with upmost speed. As he runs his plan through his mind, he can't help but think about how much he misses Ava. The last few weeks have been pure torture. Not just because of the isolation, but because he can't be with
her.
He longs for her as a junkie does for their next high. Sam isn't certain how much longer he'll be able to stay away from her.

Sam attempts to regain focus. He needs to think about his strategy instead of reminiscing about the past. Yet every time he tries, his thoughts lead him back to Ava.

As long as he leaps from the closet and makes sure he jumps on William, and not Ava, he should be okay. It will take precision, but once William's neck snaps, it will be over.

At least that's the plan.

Sam cracks his own neck then flexes as he prepares to launch. His breathing becomes more rapid as he waits in the darkness.

William and his visitor talk once again.

Sam puts his hand on the closet door and leaps out in one, quick motion. He is not prepared for what he finds.

Chapter Thirty-Eight – Face to Face

Instead William and Ava standing in front of him, there is an olive-skinned male and another, young male with long, straight, brown hair. Each is wearing a costume.

The olive-skinned male is dressed in vampire attire, and the long-haired male's outfit resembles that of a motorcycle gang member. Neither is human. He is outnumbered, two against one.

Not the odds for which he'd prepared.

The angels both stare in surprise, and, once they realize Sam is one of them, they immediately jump into fighting stances.

"I have no beef with either of you," Sam says. He holds his hands up in the air in a non-confrontational, surrendering gesture.

"Who the hell are you? What are you doing here in William's room?" the olive-skinned male says with a growl. He remains in an attack pose.

Even with the music playing, Sam can hear the sharp gasps one of the males makes as he exhales.

Sam quickly surveys the room looking for a possible escape. One small window and the bedroom door are the only way out. Of course both these options are on the other side of the bedroom, and there are two males between Sam and the exits. He needs to act fast if there is any chance of making a getaway. More drops of sweat roll down his back.

Sam sprints toward the door, leaping over William's queen-size bed. As swift as he is, he's not swift enough. The olive-skinned male tackles Sam in midair. Their bodies slam into the carpet with enough force the furniture shakes like there has been an earthquake. A ceramic lamp falls off the large dresser and breaks into three, large pieces as it hits the floor. Sam struggles to get from underneath the dark angel. He throws a punch, which knocks the olive-skinned male off balance. The other male rushes to his friend's side and slams Sam's head into the floor. Then he grabs a handful of Sam's hair and throws him across the room. Sam smashes into the drywall, leaving a large hole from his shoulder. The vibration shakes the entire bedroom. Sam presses his back against the wall. He grunts in pain. His ears ring. He feels as though he's inside a running blender.

He bends forward, leaning on the bed with both hands. It doesn't help the dizziness. The two men move toward him, perspiration dripping down their faces.

"I'm going to ask you one last time. Who are you? What are you doing here?" the olive-skinned male demands as he leads their advancement.

"Screw you."

The men smile at each other, then rush at Sam simultaneously, knocking him flat to the ground. As soon as he goes down, the punching begins.

* * * * *

Sam awakens to his hands handcuffed behind his back. He is lying face down on the floor of a HUMMER. He spits out some of the carpet fibers he that had stuck to his lips. The long-haired male is driving, and another male is in the passenger seat.

It's not the olive skinned male he fought with earlier. The passenger is blond.

Sam's restless movements from the backseat grab the passenger's attention.

He turns his torso to investigate. Sam's eyes widen.

Impossible,
he tells himself.
It can't be . . . .

Sam thinks back to what he had told Ava at the lake. There was only one person he had been wrong about in his early days as a dark angel. The story of the boy that had taken assassination pre-payment then bailed now plays in Sam's mind like it was yesterday.

Sitting in the passenger seat is the boy who couldn't pull the trigger. The dark angel sent to destroy Ava is the boy Sam had been wrong about two centuries prior.

"I see you're finally waking up," William says and then smiles at the driver. "I thought you sedated him, Vlad. Did you give him an Aspirin or Versed?"

Vladimir laughs at his friend's comment, unaware Sam and William have met once before.

William refocuses his attention on the backseat. "So, Sam Perry, what brings you to my neck of the woods these days?"