A Touch of Angel (Cocktails in Hell Book 5), page 5
“What?” I spluttered.
Alistair shrugged. “I’m game.”
“You have no idea what we’re doing!” I screeched.
“When the Devil and the Original Witch drags you out of bed at an ungodly hour, it’s bound to be fun, isn’t it?”
Lucifer’s lips stretched into a wide grin. “Indeed. Wear clothes you don’t mind getting ruined.”
Alistair’s brows hitched up at that, but a feral gleam of interest flashed in his eyes. “Two minutes,” he said and shut the door.
“Really?” I hissed. “You invited him?”
Lucifer snorted. “You allowed the man to live with you, so the more the merrier, right?”
“I did not allow him to live with me! He was living in a warehouse for crying out loud. I merely offered him a place to stay.” I hitched my robe tighter. “If I’m nice to him, maybe he won’t kill me. Or kidnap me and take me to Europe!”
Lilith shrugged. “Plus, he is suuuuuper pretty to look at.”
“Mom,” I groaned.
She laughed and flicked her fingers at me. “Go. Two minutes. Bring me a fastener, and I’ll braid your hair. Grab extra water and a towel.”
I blinked.
“It will be a tough day,” she said, not unkindly. Mom peered around me into the house. “Clara! Get your ass up. Violet needs your help today!”
Clara howled again, but followed it up with, “Yes, Mom!”
“We’ll be downstairs,” Lucifer said, gently pushing me back inside.
“Fuuuuuuck!” I screeched when I shut the door.
chapter
six
I plodded down the stairs like I was walking to my death, Clara keeping up inane chatter the entire time. She’d left Dave snoring in the bed, telling me how late she’d kept him up last night.
Alistair walked behind us both. I couldn’t see him, but I could feel him, and I didn’t like how his power teased my skin. Clara seemed oblivious to it, which bothered me. Why was I so sensitive to him and his presence when Clara only ogled him because he was hot and because she knew it annoyed me?
When we got to the bottom of the steps, Lucifer stepped forward and held out his hand. “Everyone grasp onto each other and don’t let go.”
A warm, calloused hand slid into mine. I started, only to see Clara grinning at me and making kissy faces over Alistair’s shoulder. Glaring at her, I ignored Alistair and turned to Lucifer.
Amusement glittered in his eyes. “Ready?”
Lilith took his hand, and seconds later, we stood in his pocket realm, the char marks still on the far wall from the last time.
Alistair sucked in a breath. I tugged my hand from his and stepped away. He ignored my rudeness and stepped into the middle of the ring. It wasn’t a ring, and Lucifer didn’t like me calling it that, but every time I came here, I got the shit beat out of me, so that’s what it felt like.
“This is amazing,” Alistair said. He looked different today. More rumpled. At ease. He wore a pair of black joggers and a white t-shirt that pulled against his chest, showcasing lean muscle and a trim waist. I, on the other hand, looked like a goblin.
I’d slapped on an old, stained pair of navy-blue sweats and a black tank top, pairing it with an old pair of comfortable Nikes and my ever-trusty potion belt. Mom took the hair band from my fingers and tapped me on the shoulder. I folded myself to the ground, cross-legged style, and let her try to tame my hair into a tight French braid. The scrape of her fingernails against my scalp relaxed me, and I watched as Lucifer pulled Alistair to the side, speaking softly to him.
I couldn’t tell what they spoke about, but I watched as the dragon’s face tightened with interest, the edges of his lips curving into a smile.
Maybe Lucifer was telling him how I get my ass kicked every time I come here. That would be hilarious to a murderous dragon, wouldn’t it?
My eyes watered as Mom tamed my hair into submission, tucking the tail back into the braid and pinning it with a few bobby pins from her own hair. She always wore hers up when she came here, too, but so far, she hadn’t had a lot of opportunities for it to come undone. Unlike me, who always left here burned, bruised, and tattered.
I knew they felt bad, but Mom and Lucifer were trying to get me to let loose of the internal lock I kept on myself. That’s what they called it.
I called it my salvation. Controlling my powers didn’t come easy to me. In fact, I found it impossible to do. Once they came out to play, they took me over, and I felt like a prisoner in my own body. I became ruled by power, emotion, anger, and hate. Hating anyone in the ring, besides maybe Alistair today, was impossible, so I apparently kept an unintentionally tight lock on them. Before this, I couldn’t access them at all unless driven to rage. Now, it was way too easy to access them.
I felt like Lucifer was too careful with me. When I told him so, he didn’t get angry about it, only said he’d kill me if he unleashed himself in order to get me to cooperate. He was probably right, but it didn’t help me.
Clara let me use her as a pinata. I tried to pull my punches with her, too, but she went all rage vamp on me every time I tried, which always scared the shit out of me and ended the way she wanted. With her usually on fire and bleeding.
The ring looked the same as it always did. An open area about the size of a football field with a line down the middle. For a while, all I had to do was get past Lucifer and try to cross the line.
It hadn’t gone well.
“We’re going to do something different,” Lucifer said. “We’ve tried everything, and Violet has yet to fully access everything she’s been gifted with.”
I narrowed my eyes. How would he know what I had or didn’t have?
“Today I propose we let Alistair take over her training.”
“What?!”
Clara snickered. Mom’s eyes glittered, but she stayed quiet.
“No,” I said flatly.
Alistair stepped forward. “It’s a good idea.”
“You hate me, and you want to kill me, and now is the perfect time to make it look like an accident!”
Mom covered her mouth with one hand.
Alistair’s eyes narrowed. He held up a finger. “One, I don’t hate you. Two, I haven’t decided if I want to kill you or not. And three—” he held up a third finger, “It won’t have to be an accident, because I am allowed to kill you if I want to. You destroyed an entire nest of dragons. By ancient rite, your death belongs to me.”
I glared at him. “Still. You suck.”
Clara hooted with laughter.
“Be that as it may,” Alistair said, “Lucifer is right. You don’t know me. You aren’t attached to me. The people you love most stand in this room—”
“BFFS FOREVER!” Clara yelled, her voice echoing off the walls.
He gave her a withering look. “And you are afraid to hurt them. If your powers are anything like Lucifer hints to, he and I may be the only ones who can force you to access them.”
The door opened from behind us. Lucifer gestured for whoever it was to come in.
“Ooh!” Ellie exclaimed. “Nice braid, Lilith! Can you do mine?”
Mom patted the floor in front of her, and my foster mother practically skipped over and plopped herself down. She gave me a happy wave and a smile that faded when she saw Alistair. Her brow furrowed.
“Who’s that?” she stage whispered to Mom.
I ignored them. “This is a bad idea.”
“It’s a great idea,” Alistair said. “Now come, Violet. Let us show them what you can do.” He held his hand out.
Ignoring it, I stood and stomped to the middle of the ring. “Do your worst,” I muttered.
Alistair prowled toward me, shadows seeping from his skin. I swallowed hard, steeling myself for his first blow. When he stood a few feet away, all he did was stare at me.
“Come on. Do something.” I did the come here motion with my fingers just like I saw in the movies.
“No,” he said mildly.
I looked over at Lucifer who wore no expression, only watched us stare at each other like morons.
Clara clapped and hooted at us. “Show us your tits!” she yelled.
A snort escaped me. Even Alistair seemed amused. Clara was good for a lot of things, but she was best at being wildly inappropriate.
A string of Mardi Gras beads hit me in the face. “Lucifer,” I snapped, “stop encouraging her.”
“I have nowhere to be,” Alistair remarked. “It’s your move, Violet.”
“You’re a terrible teacher,” I muttered.
He shrugged a shoulder. “I’m not here to teach you. Not yet. I’m here because Lucifer asked me to be. And I find you fascinating.” He stepped forward and over the boundary. My heart thudded in my chest as he walked behind me and around. “You seem perfectly … normal. You look like a human.” His gaze scraped me raw. “Unremarkable.”
Ouch.
“And yet positively fascinating.” He stopped in front of me. “You hide your power signature with incredible skill. For all intents and purposes, you appear to be a Brewer. But I could tell from the first moment I saw you that something other lurks under your skin. Why won’t you let it come out and play?”
“My power doesn’t play. It kills.”
“Debatable,” Alistair remarked. “Perhaps it hasn’t found someone it wants to play with.”
My heartbeat sped up. A thin trickle of sweat ran down my back, and I hadn’t done a single thing yet.
“Perhaps,” Alistair murmured, coming so close I could smell the sea on his skin, “it would like to play with me.”
“IS IT GETTING HOT IN HERE OR IS IT JUST ME?” Clara shouted, breaking the spell between us.
“Don’t flatter yourself. I don’t play.”
“Obviously. No one has taught you how.” He tilted his head, his amber eyes studying my face. “You have sad eyes, Violet. You’ve seen things others have not, and you hold those experiences deep within your veins. To survive, to thrive, you have to learn how to let them go. Keep them in your heart and never forget them, but learn to relinquish them. We are not the sum of our parts. We are earth and air, fire and water, sun and stars.”
Darkness began to glitter around us, his power shadowing around the room. Shadows teased my ankles and calves, floating around me to tease the curls slipping from my braid. “We are the salt in the sea, the brine in the waves, the sand beneath our toes, the howl of a wolf, the cry of a raven. We are whatever we want to be, Violet, and you hold yourself back. I sense a deep well of power thrumming inside you, and you force it down. You’ll never master it or yourself as long as you suppress who you are.”
Anger began to beat inside my veins. Who was he and what did he know about me? Nothing. He was no one and nothing. Just another male coming into my home to threaten me.
“Good,” his eyes glittered. “Take that anger and hone it.”
“Shut up,” I snapped.
His shadows teased my braid, loosening the hair band until it floated away. My hair floated around my head in riotous curls. He reached out a finger to toy with one, but I stepped out of his range.
“Don’t touch me.”
“You want me to touch you.”
“Don’t put words into my mouth. You know nothing about me.”
He took another step toward me, night-kissed power flowing from his hands. “I see more than you know.”
Golden power began to leak from me, flowing from my skin into the shadows, the color a deep shimmering sunrise mixed with glittering ebony. I felt my hair lengthen, my skin tightening and pulling against my bones.
Alistair sucked in a breath. “There. Ah. There you are.”
My teeth pulled back from my lips. “Stop coming toward me.”
He didn’t. “What are you going to do about it?”
Tears leaked from my eyes. “Stop. Please.” My power was a burning volcano inside of me, threatening to spill forth at any moment.
“Embrace who you are. You will not win this war without doing so. Those people out there want the best for you.”
“And you?” My voice sounded hoarse.
Alistair was so close now, we could brush noses.
“The only thing I want from you is the truth.” He reached out a single finger and touched me in the middle of my forehead.
Magic exploded between us.
chapter
seven
Black and scarlet magic poured from my hands, the gold drowning in the colors of night.
Alistair withstood it like a bulwark in the ocean. My power blasted against him, pouring over his skin like acid.
I tried to pull it back, but I couldn’t. It was always so eager. Once I released it, I lost control. There was no way for me to put the genie back into the bottle.
Alistair took a step forward, his face a mask of concentration. A second later, his hand whipped out, and he pushed my magic away, sliding it away from him.
I gaped. “How—how did you do that?”
“Stop talking.”
I snapped my mouth shut.
“Look inward. Find the seat of your power. Speak to it.”
I snorted.
Alistair’s warm hands gripped my shoulders. “Speak to it. Magic is sentient. I know you know this. We all sense our power as something always listening.” He sent a thread of power spiraling through my veins, cool and foreign, but my magic stretched like a cat when he touched the pool inside me.
Sighing, even as a torrent of power flowed from me, I did as he asked, even though I’d already tried this before when Lucifer and Jude had suggested it. The magic ignored me like a toddler who wasn’t ready for bed.
“Hi,” I said inside my head.
The power stilled for a brief second, curious.
“I’m Violet.”
Images flowed through my mind, one after the other. I gasped at the intrusion and tried to shy away from the truth, but it gripped me with an iron mental hand and forced me to see the truth.
It said nothing, but I felt the truth all the same.
My magic thought I hated it. I’d spurned it at every turn, suppressed it, leashed it, and forced it down every single time. I had no choice but to do it, but how could I make it understand it was for my, our, safety?
“Show it,” Alistair whispered. His eyes were squeezed shut, but his grip on me was gentle. I didn’t like that he was sharing this with me, but he was the first one who’d ever gotten me this far. But if I did this, he would know who I was.
He would know everything.
Would it be so bad?
I had planned for it anyway. Eventually. But eventually was too far away. I felt a sense of impending doom hanging over our head at every turn. So far, we’d had it light. There were challenges, but nothing had happened so terrible we hadn’t recovered from it.
“Let go of me,” I whispered.
“No. The thread will break.”
“Alistair,” I pleaded.
“Show me,” he said through gritted teeth. “Embrace your truth.”
The first image I remembered spilled through my thoughts accidentally. Me, held in my mother’s arms, ripped away by Michael and tossed into Hellfire. Alistair gasped, his grip tightening. A tear ran down my face, and the thoughts overflowed, bubbling up from me without my permission, and so I let go, allowing the floodgates to open, showing my power, the essence of who I was, why I’d done what I’d done and how much it hurt me to do it.
Azrael plucking me from the fire like a bug from a glass of water, secreting me away, and raising me in secret with Ellie. How much we moved from city to city, country to country, avoiding any of our own kind. His training and his seal on my power while I was young, his warnings.
Max and Samael, and Lucifer stepping in to make me his Guardian.
The magic recoiled, stunned as I was, and lay still for a brief moment. Then, it brushed against my mind one more time, as if to ask for permission.
I hesitated.
Alistair threaded his magic with mine, burying into the depthless pool of my being, and they rose together. Magic, pure and bright spilled from my skin. Antique gold, mixed with a glittering ebony thread. It wrapped around Alistair, curious as a crow, teasing his skin and lifting his hair as it curled around him.
It liked him. The thought of it sent a lurch in my stomach.
But as soon as it finished, it curled over me, warming my skin at first—the unexpected heat of a sunrise—before it burned.
I screamed, Alistair losing his grip as the heat crackled against my skin. A bonfire lit me from within, and I was helpless to resist.
“Violet!”
A concussive boom of power burst from me, throwing both of us apart.
I had no arms, no legs, no limbs, nothing. Floating through the universe, I was a speck among the stars, a blip of time, a tiny hurtling rock.
I was nothing.
No one.
Free.
I am sorry.
The thought appeared in my mind—a fragment of thought. Not from a person. From a presence, stronger than I would ever be.
I didn’t know.
I had no eyes, so I couldn’t cry. But I could still think. I had no choice.
Use me. Mold me. You can create, destroy, liberate. You have the power to do anything. Merely ask, and it shall be yours.
Confusion.
Violet. It’s always been yours. All you had to do was ask.
I hesitated. I—I will.
I have changed you. It was … necessary.
Changed?
I am sorry, it said again.
Pain. Heat. Agony. A choked cry came from my parched throat.
“Try not to move her,” an ancient voice said.
“What did you do?” another hissed.
“What the ever-loving fuck?”
I knew that voice.
“Clara?”
“Yes.” Even she sounded sober. “I’m here. I can’t … touch you right now. It would hurt too much.”
“Hurt.”
“No shit,” she whispered, tears thick in her voice.
A cooling rush of magic filled my veins. “Don’t move, Violet.” Ellie’s cool palm rested on my hip.
