21 Shades of Night, page 400
I took a deep breath and pushed myself from the bed. Ben was still downstairs, probably stretched out on my old couch. I had no way of knowing if he'd found sleep before I had, but I couldn't stop myself from walking across the room and unlatching the old lock that kept it sealed. In the dead of night, the creak of the ancient wood echoed through the house. I left it open and shut off the light before finding my way back to my bed by memory. As I lay my head against the pillow, my heart beat hard inside my chest, wondering if what I had done was enough.
It wasn't long before I heard his footsteps on the stairs.
I held my breath as I waited, wondering what my next action was supposed to be, wondering what he expected from me. He made it to my doorway, but I couldn't look at him. Without speaking, I pulled the covers back, staring at the silvery-white expanse of sheet between me and the edge of the bed.
He climbed in like he'd been there all his life and I forced myself to find his eyes. He looked at me, the pale moonlight etching his face with deep shadows and bright highlights. I took in every inch of his face, searching for some outward sign of what had happened in the past few days, but in his eyes I found only hope.
He was the same.
Inching closer, I rested my hand against his cheek, interrupting the shades of moonlight that played there. He tilted his head and kissed my palm without breaking eye contact. I let out the breath I'd been holding since I'd first found out about the strange creatures that walked next to us without ever showing who they really were.
In all the world, there are but two truths: that which we know by day and that which finds us in the night. Here, with the quiet serenade of the wind in the trees surrounding us, I looked across the pillow at Ben and I knew then, that for me, he was both.
* * *
Continue the Mythos of Cimme series with book two, Tracer.
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About the Author
CJ Flynn is an author, farmer, and mother. She has been writing for most of her life, and has used her skills professionally in writing technical documentation, online articles, and marketing. Her first love has always been fiction.
After moving back to begin a small family farm in her home state of Ohio, CJ left behind the technical and marketing writing to focus solely on her fiction. The Mythos of Cimmeseries is her first published fiction work.
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BENEATH THE BROKEN MOON by SARAH MÄKELÄ
CLOSE LIAISONS by ANNA ZAIRES
TAKEN BY THE BEAST by KRESSLEY & HAMILTON
NIGHT HAWK by J.E. TAYLOR
ROOK by JC ANDRIJESKI
THE LOST QUEEN by ANGEL LAWSON
A PRESCRIPTION FOR DELIRIUM by NOREE COSPER
REAPER by K. DE LONG
PURGATORY by SUSAN STEC
FORBIDDEN LOVE by TERRY SPEAR
THE WOLF, THE WITCH, AND THE WASTELAND by JACQUELINE SWEET
KNIGHTS OF STONE: MASON by LISA CARLISLE
HUNTER UNDONE by EDEN ASHE
SOUL TIES by LJ SWALLOW
WOLF IN EXILE by AMBER ELLA MONROE
AWAKENED by LAXMI HARIHARAN
HIGHLANDER’S KISS by JOANNE WADSWORTH
THE WATCHER’S DAUGHTER by CJ FLYNN
DARK WINGS by SKYLA MADI
DESIRING DEATH by C.P. MANDARA
WITCH OF THE CARDS by CATHERINE STINE
DARK WINGS
BY SKYLA MADI
Copyright © 2013 Skyla Madi
Violet Ashton is an exemplary angel with ninety-nine kills under her belt.
Nothing could make her underestimate herself until she's sent to hunt down Death, one of the Four Horseman of the Apocalypse. Or as Violet knows him–Lucas Cross, her ex-mentor and ex-lover. Defining the line between what her job requires and what her heart wants is the hardest decision she's ever had to make.
Lucas Cross is an angel turned demon.
The only thing he had to worry about was helping his brothers end the world, that was until Violet blew into town. From the moment he saw her again his normal self has fought hard to keep down the demon that desperately wants to kill her. Torn between love and hate, Lucas is determined to push all of Violet's limits.
The feud between the Never Dark realm and The Underworld is at boiling point and if Violet can't complete her mission Earth will pay the ultimate price.
DARK WINGS © 2013 Skyla Madi
All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.
Chapter 1
Collide
*
Violet
MY HEART RACES in my chest and I’m powerless to control it.
There it is. Sequin Nightclub.
My fingers tremble against the steering wheel of my SUV and I swallow hard. My old stomping ground. I pull the emergency brake and wait. When I was human, Sequin was the ‘it’ spot. It was the most luxurious nightclub this side of Concave City. I glance up at its dirty exterior and cringe. Things have changed since my last visit. Colors have dulled, wood has decayed, and the crowd has… downgraded, for lack of a better word. I try not to judge the pathetic, little humans sauntering down the sidewalk in their tiny clothes and cheap leathers, but they make it incredibly difficult.
We protect them? What for? Look at them. They’re so… insignificant… in the grand scheme of things.
Sighing, I stare long and hard at the club, analyzing its purple and pale walls. They’re weathered, coated in a thin layer of dirt. Even at midnight, I can tell just how neglected the club has become. I mean, surely it’s a tear down now?
For the briefest moment, the dazzlingly pink ‘SEQUIN’ neon sign I’ve been avoiding catches my attention. Its bright, blinding light projects against the building, making its obvious neglect look more, well, obvious. Yep. It’s definitely not what it was back in its heyday. Now that I think about it, this is a bittersweet moment for me. Bitter because it reminds me of a simpler time—a time I miss—and sweet because, once it’s gone, I can finally forget that life. Every time I come to Earth it won’t remind me of what I had…
… Of what I lost.
“Shit!” I jolt forward, sitting upright as he steps out from the nightclub and into the light.
Shards of glass stab into my heart and blood drains from my body at the sight of him in his crisp, black suit. I don’t believe it. What they told me is true… he is here.
He is one of them.
I watch, paralyzed, as he lures a scantily clothed woman into a nearby alley and I cringe as her ass pops out from underneath her micro mini skirt when she bends over in front of him, seemingly to pick up something she has “dropped”. I clench my jaw. If she’s looking for her morals, she definitely isn’t going to find them underneath the sole of her white pumps.
Who wears a bright, purple, latex skirt and a bikini doused in sequins to a club, anyway? Is that what counts as attire these days? Maybe it does. Maybe things have changed in the years I’ve been absent.
Where have I been? Humans call it Heaven. We call it the Never Dark. It’s an alternate universe the human brain can’t even begin to comprehend. Hell, I still don’t understand it. All I know is, I was human once and then I died. After my death, I was chosen to become an angel, to protect the earth and all of its inhabitants. Why? Shit. I’d love to know the answer to that one too. All I know is, one day I’m a weak human with more baggage than an airport cargo bay, and the next I’m kicking ass and saving humanity as an angel.
Yup. An angel.
Don’t get it twisted though. We’re not the biblical guardian angels that protect humans or guide them through the rough patches of life. That’s fictional. We have better things to do than lead you to your soulmate. There’s a war going on. A war that threatens to rip the human world apart. To prevent it, we hunt the things that go bump in the night. Your worst nightmare couldn’t come close to the horrors I’ve seen. No, I’m not talking about vampires. They no longer exist. Angels destroyed them all decades ago, every last sparkly one of them, and you’re welcome. The things I hunt are much more lethal—things that pose a threat to humanity as a whole. Take tonight for example. The handsome fellow with the broad shoulders who leads that woman into the alley? That’s Death.
No. Not that Death. We have no quarrels with Dave, his long black robe, or the big, sharp scythe he drags along with him. This Death, the one in the alley fifty yards from me, is deadlier.
Much deadlier.
Ever heard of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse? Yep. He’s that Death. Normally, we don’t have any problems with them, either. They end the world when its time has come and that’s how things go. The problem is, he’s much, much too early. It’s 2016 and the world isn’t scheduled for a restart until the year 3000. Unfortunately, I was handed the task of finding out what he’s doing here and to “kindly” ask him to leave. If he doesn’t comply, I’ve been ordered to kill him. Easier said than done, of course.
He smooths the palm of his hand over the small of her back as she straightens her spine and gingerly presses against him. With a smirk, he guides her deeper into the alley. Grimacing, I pull the tasteless, over-chewed piece of gum from my mouth and stick it in an empty ashtray concealed in my car door. I let them flirt and scowl from a distance, just waiting for the right time to attack.
Then his smoldering brown eyes meet mine and my heart stutters as something knots deep in my stomach, catching me off guard. Shock seizes my muscles and twitches at my lips, but I don’t dare to let it register on my face.
This isn’t supposed to happen.
He isn’t supposed to see me, at least not yet.
He’s as beautiful as I remember and my stomach turns at the thought of thinking something so wrong.
His short, black hair—once kept in a clean crew cut—is messy, like a woman has just run her hands through it. I inhale through my nose as he watches me intently with his dark, brown eyes. Can he see me as clearly as I see him? Can he hear my heart race over the loud thrum of the club’s music? He runs his wet tongue along his bottom lip and I swallow hard as something hot and wild settles in my core.
Of course he can.
My ability to see well in the dark makes it easier for me to see him smirk as he cocks his head to the side and studies me curiously. The both of us knew this moment would come, the moment we crossed paths again… I just didn’t expect it to happen so soon.
The skank he’s with follows his line of sight, but her pathetic human eyes can’t see well enough to know what he’s looking at. Smiling, she flicks her long blonde hair over her shoulder and places her hands on his chest. Her lips move as she talks and trails her manicured fingernails down his fine, black suit. With a kiss on his jawline, she drags them back up and caresses his tie in her hands. When he doesn’t respond, she leans closer, her lips barely grazing his ear. Again, he doesn’t acknowledge her. Why would he? Those dark eyes only see me.
Exhaling, I reach over and grab my gun that rests on the passenger seat. I open the chamber and double check the sulfur bullets. Twelve. Twelve is enough. They won’t kill a demon of his level, but they’ll leave a nasty bruise and give me plenty of time to get my threat across.
I open my door and slip from the car. Cool air whips at my face and it’s so beautifully refreshing. I savor it as I clip the gun into its holster on the back of my catsuit with the rest of my gadgets. It’s mandatory that all field angels wear the required uniform. I refused to wear it in the beginning and as a result, I had my ass handed to me by a low level demon. It hurt, to say the least. Since that night, I’ve worn one to every mission. You see, the catsuit is designed for speed and protection. Having it skin tight helps me move faster and prevents it from snagging on foreign objects. It also makes me feel like a superhero… which is pretty damn cool.
I slam the door shut and stalk toward him. He doesn’t run from me like most demons do. Instead, he faces me front on and chuckles, exposing his perfect white teeth. His evil grin punches me in the gut and my ribs clench my heart.
This is a job. He isn’t the same person he used to be.
The girl finally spots me and takes a step forward, shielding a quarter of Death’s body with her own. She looks younger up close, much younger than I originally assumed.
I stop within ten yards of them, my legs shoulder-width apart. Death smiles wickedly as I raise my arms above my head and tighten my ponytail, draping my bright red hair over my shoulder.
“I was wondering when I’d see you again, Violet.” He says, his voice deep and husky.
It vibrates through the air and clings to my suit, tickling me all over. Oh, how I’ve longed to hear it again.
The skank turns abruptly to face him. “Who the fuck is she, Noah?”
At least he’s smart enough to use a fake name. I cringe at the pitch of her irritating voice. It’s high and whiney, like a chirping bird in the early hours of the morning.
“Who the fu—”
Ugh. I draw my dart gun and shoot the girl in the neck. With a quiet gasp, she crumbles to the cold, dirty floor and I return the gun to its holster.
“You’re such a buzzkill,” he groans, running his fingers through his hair.
My fingers twitch at his movement. This is a lot harder than I thought it’d be. Seeing him… right here… in front of me.
“Why are you here?” I demand, clenching my jaw.
“I could ask you the same thing.”
I narrow my eyes at him as he bends down and strokes the girl’s cheek with the back of his finger. I ignore the pang of jealousy that tears through my chest at the sight of his gentle touch. A long time ago, I knew him personally.
I knew him before he became Death…
…before he was torn in two.
Back when he was Lucas.
Just Lucas.
An angel.
My mentor.
Lucas was the one who recruited me, who taught me everything I know about demons and how to kill them. What I am now is because of him and I owe him everything.
I stare at him. Even though he’s a demon, he hasn’t changed in the slightest. He still has those gorgeous high cheekbones, a jawline to die for, and big brown eyes. Lucas is every attribute I love in a man. He is my weakness.
Lucas straightens himself and steps over the unconscious girl at his feet, forgetting about her and whatever they planned on doing together. I tense as he steps closer and he notices, acknowledging my edgy movement with a flare of amusement deep in his irises.
“You’re as beautiful as I remember, V. Not that I expected anything short of perfection.”
V…I flinch. V was Lucas’s nickname for me. It’s something he’s called me from the beginning, something I once detested, but eventually fell in love with. That nickname brought me immeasurable happiness once…now it brings me nothing but pain. Who does he think he is, anyway? Using old nicknames and mannerisms against me? That’s low, even for a demon like him.
“You’re wasting your breath.” I state, frowning.
He looks me up and down with a compellingly hungry stare and my lips part, letting out a rush of air. I know the look all too well, only now it’s amplified. I’m not going to lie, he both exhilarates and terrifies me…but it’s not worth the risk. A demon is never worth the risk.
Lucas’s stare lingers on my breasts for a second too long and I clear my throat, garnering his attention. Our eyes lock and his glisten dangerously.
“Come home with me, Vi. For old time’s sake.”
I purse my lips. I don’t know what bothers me more…the fact he didn’t pose it as a question or the fact he thinks there’s still a chance we can fool around. Is there a chance? My heart races in my ears, begging me to hold him in my arms. How long has it been? It feels like an eternity has passed since the night I saw him last.
I can’t muster the courage to speak, so I shake my head. Chuckling inwardly, a cocky smile spreads over his face. There was a time when he only had to bat an eyelid at me and I’d jump him, but now it’s different. Now he’s another thing entirely.
“We were good together…once.” He states, stepping closer.
