Undone (The Reaping Chronicles Book 2), page 22
He studied her as he chewed, and she seemed to be studying him as well. The attraction was still there for him, and he wondered if she was still as attracted to him.
“I am,” she said in response to his thought.
“I told you before, Cecily . . . stay out of my head. You have no right to be in it to begin with.”
“That’s true. But, honestly, Lucas . . . I don’t know how to stop it. The Qalal side of me, sure . . . I can turn that off all day. No problem. But the angel side I have now doesn’t seem to want to cooperate. I think if I spent some time around you, or angels, I might be able to figure it out. Maybe it just takes practice. Since I don’t think any angels will volunteer to help me, that leaves you.”
“What makes you think I will volunteer? After all, you’re the one who did this to me.”
“Well, hey, hun,” Martha said to Cecily as she passed by again. “Can I get ya somethin’?”
Cecily pointed to my plate. “I’ll have the same, and a Coke.”
“You want yours rare, too?”
“I’ll take it with the blood still freshly pumping through it if I could get it that way.”
Martha chuckled, and her double chin jiggled. “This some kind of new fad diet y’all are on, or somethin’ like that?”
Cecily looked at Lucas, then back at Martha, and smiled broadly. “Something like that.”
“All right. Be back with your drink. Food will be just a bit.”
“Thank you,” Cecily said, then focused her attention back on Lucas. “So . . . you asked why you should volunteer.” Cecily waited for Lucas to respond. When he didn’t, she continued. “I never said you should volunteer. But I think we could help each other out.”
“I think you’ve done enough to help me, don’t you?”
Martha stopped at their table, and Cecily and Lucas fell silent. She placed Cecily’s drink down and then another for Lucas, nodded, and walked away.
Cecily leaned forward, placing her forearms on the table as she did. “I already told you; I can help you get to Javan.”
Cecily let her statement linger, waiting again for Lucas to respond. He couldn’t deny his desire to kill Javan, and there wasn’t anything he wanted more than to be the one to end him. “I remember.”
“Help me learn about these angelic abilities, and I’ll help you get to Javan.”
“Maybe you’ve forgotten, but these angelic abilities are pretty new to me, too. I’ve been part angel since I was conceived, but I’m just learning how to make use of what I have the ability to do.”
“I haven’t forgotten. But you have access to angels that will help you to learn. What you learn, you can teach me.”
“I still don’t know what’s really in it for me.”
“Your revenge.”
Martha returned with Cecily’s food and, seeming to sense they were in a deep discussion, she just winked and walked away again.
Lucas leaned toward Cecily. “What makes you think I can’t get to Javan and enjoy my revenge without you? Nothing will stop me from it, Cecily. I don’t need you.”
“Maybe that’s true. But I can at least help to clear your path to him. That’s got to count for something.” Cecily popped a fry in her mouth and began to chew it slowly, seductively.
“Very little,” he said, then watched as she smirked slightly and licked her lips. He was really trying to not think about his body’s reaction to her flirting, or the need to adjust himself as he watched her, but he’d bet she knew exactly what was on his mind.
“Okay, so . . .” she said, “we can always find other ways I can make myself useful to you.”
“I have someone for that, Cecily.”
“True, but I happen to know she’s not your favorite person, or angel, right now. That thought was coming through loud and clear when I came in here.”
Lucas shook his head and pushed the last bite of his burger into his mouth. After chewing it and chasing it with a drink of water, he wiped his hands and threw the napkin on his plate. He leaned back and smirked back at Cecily. “Regardless of what I’m feeling about her right now, you could never compare to Gabrielle, Cecily.”
Cecily took a bite of her burger, chewing slowly again, then sat back and studied Lucas before answering. “I never said I was planning on competing with Gabrielle, Lucas. Lovers are never the same. Some are better than others. Some have had a hell of a lot of practice and know all the right ways to please a man . . . or a woman. I fall into the latter category; in case you were wondering.” Cecily ate a fry and took a sip of her Coke, all while never breaking eye contact, then continued. “Why settle for vanilla ice cream when you can have the cake, too?”
“You’re suggesting I cheat on Gabrielle to be with you?” Lucas scoffed. “Not going to happen, Cecily. I might be pissed as hell at her, and I’ll even admit to being attracted to you, but I won’t cheat on her.”
“So, don’t cheat on her. You can still be with me, someone more like you than her, and have all the fun that comes along with my experience in the bedroom . . . or living room, or hell, outside on a trampoline for all I care. Whatever you want. I’m game for all of it.”
“So, now you’re trying to entice me with sex and suggesting I leave Gabrielle for you, instead of cheating on her?” Lucas chuckled. “Still not interested.”
Cecily smiled, pulled out a fifty and set it on the table, then stood with the rest of her burger. “Lunch is on me.” She started to walk away, and I couldn’t help but appreciate what I was seeing. Cecily definitely had a body any man would enjoy getting his hands on.
‘And . . . Lucas,” Cecily’s voice said in Lucas’ mind as she turned just before she walked out the door, catching him checking out her backside. ‘Don’t lie. You’re most certainly interested.’
Then she winked, turned, and was gone.
Chapter Forty-three
Gabrielle ~ It’s Not a Bad Thing
“Amaziah, we have to tell Lucas,” Gabrielle said as she paced the floor in the kitchen at her townhouse.
She wasn’t sure how long it’d been since she’d spent time in her Earthly home, but she asked to speak to Amaziah and Phalen there because she didn’t want Lucas to overhear their conversation if they had it at his house, and she didn’t want to have it in Heaven because of angels who might hear. Lucas’ decision about his choice between Light and Darkness being so pivotal to the outcome of the Great War was something that Amaziah wanted to keep as quiet as possible. While he didn’t think any of their brethren would take matters into their own hands and kill Lucas to try to eliminate him as a possible threat, he didn’t want to take the chance, either.
“I still don’t think we should, Gabrielle,” Amaziah said. He was sitting next to Phalen, the only other angel who knew the full extent of the decision Lucas faced, at the kitchen counter’s bar. “His thinking is still too volatile, and if he knows the severity of his role, it might tip him over the edge. His emotions and psyche are all over the place. You know this. If he were more stable, I would agree, but he simply isn’t.”
“It’s true, Gabrielle,” Phalen said. Her expression was strained. She was worried, that much was obvious, and she had plenty of reason to be. “Look at how he acted today. He loves you one second, and a minute later he’s cussing you out and seems to hate you. Give him an hour or two and he will probably ask you to marry him just to then turn around and get stabby. He’s not just running hot and cold . . . he’s bowels-of-Hell-hot and deep-space-cold.”
“That’s a bit of an exaggeration, Phalen,” Gabrielle said as she stopped pacing and braced her body with her hands on the counter, looking back and forth between Phalen and Amaziah. Deep down, she knew they were both right. His emotions and thoughts were too unstable. But the reality was that he might not get any better, and he deserved to know everything.
“It might be a slightly embellished description,” Phalen replied. “But it’s not that far off. You haven’t been sparring with him. Lucas is struggling more than you know with his anger. He always seems one kick or punch away from wanting to end me, and I’m not an enemy.”
“And, I am?” Gabrielle asked.
“No, sister. That’s not how I meant that. But, since you mentioned it, he doesn’t seem to be able to keep it straight in his head who’s on his side and his friend, and who isn’t.”
“That’s true, Gabrielle. He’ll be easily manipulated right now.”
Gabrielle sighed and leaned over the counter, resting on her elbows as she sighed heavily. “I know.” Gabrielle looked at Amaziah, who didn’t look nearly as concerned as she thought he would, which was puzzling. “What can we do to help him, Amaziah?”
“Well, I think the best thing to do is to continue to keep his role in the War to ourselves, and I believe we need to get him into new surroundings.”
“You’re still thinking Corstorphine?”
Amaziah nodded. “Yes. For him and the Daniels family.”
“Okay,” Gabrielle said. “Let’s see if we can convince them all to disrupt their lives even more.” Gabrielle shook her head and blinked back tears that were starting to gather in her eyes. She was so tired of hurting Lucas and the Daniels family. She might not be the one directly hurting them, but it was due to her that they’d experienced all the pain they had over the last several months.
And knowing that sucked.
Amaziah came around the counter and pulled Gabrielle into a hug. “It’s not a bad thing for them to go to Corstorphine, Gabrielle. This will be a disruption for the better.”
“How can you be so sure, Amaziah?” Gabrielle asked as she closed her eyes and let him soothe her, resting her cheek against his chest.
Amaziah squeezed her a little tighter. “I just am.”
Chapter Forty-four
Javan ~ Holding a Grudge
“God, it reeks down here,” Javan said as he scowled and crinkled his nose while following Som deeper into the cave. The stench of death hung heavy in the damp air, and the rock walls glistened slightly with moisture from what little light that was reaching this far past the entrance. Before long, they’d be too far inside and all light would cease to aide them along their path, but Javan and Som didn’t need the help—they were of the Dark, so they were able to see fine, regardless.
Som harrumphed. “Well, I don’t think Naamah cares what you think about how her home smells. And I suggest you keep it to yourself if you have any hope of her telling you something valuable.”
This time Javan harrumphed. “She likely won’t, anyway. She’s never liked me.”
Som chuckled as he stopped in front of Javan and turned slightly toward him. “No one likes you, Javan.”
“Fuck off and get moving, Som.”
Som smirked and began walking again.
They’d come to see Naamah, the mother of demons—not the ones who were the Fallen, but the ones who were conceived on Earth by her. She’d birthed hundreds of demons every year for thousands of years, and apparently was still keeping that pace even now. It was no surprise that her home smelled like death, considering she lived off human blood, the decaying bodies of humans and animals, and rotting food, but nothing had prepared Javan for how bad the stench was, and he struggled to keep the bile in his stomach from rising.
They turned a sharp corner of the cave, making the area now void of light. The further they went, the less airflow was available, making the funky smell of the air even more pungent. Javan coughed as a way to keep from gagging, and Som laughed.
“For such a fearsome demon, Javan, you sure have a weak stomach.”
Javan sneered, though Som wouldn’t have been able to see him since he was still walking ahead of Javan. “Again, Som . . . fuck off.”
Another fifty or so yards in, and Javan could begin to see a faint amber glow. The more steps they took, the more prominent the glow became until they finally reached a vast room within the cave. The walls were draped in multiple colorful fabrics and the amber glow Javan could now see was coming from dozens of torch lamps scattered around the space. Ottomans of various sizes and colorful fabrics that were in designs that definitely spoke of being inspired by India’s vibrant decor were dotted around the room, as well. The only other furniture in the room was a king-sized bed adorned with more colorful blankets and pillows, and a small bar next to it. The feel was more plush and relaxing than Javan imagined would have been shared with such putrid odors.
Naamah was nowhere to be seen.
Javan scowled, inhaled deeply, then took a satisfying, full breath—the first he’d taken since he entered the cave. The smell that had him almost retching his guts up was gone. Now, all he could smell was incense burning somewhere in the area.
“Thank God for small favors,” Javan said in barely more than a whisper.
“I will only ask you once, Javan, to not speak of God in my home or presence.” A sultry female voice said from behind them.
Javan turned to see Naamah sauntering their way from a second opening into the room. She was tall and slender, her black eyes matched her hair that was cut in a short pixie style, the color contrasting her creamy, white skin and red lips. Her facial structure was that of a classic American beauty and, had they been living in the nineteen-fifties, her looks would have fit in perfectly.
Javan smiled, not from being at ease, but in appreciation of her beauty. “No disrespect intended, Naamah. It’s just a figure of speech.”
Naamah stopped in front of him, looked him up and down once very slowly, then her mouth quirked up in a smile. “Pick a different one.” Naamah gave her attention to Som. “Som . . . I’d say it’s good to see you, but since you brought him,” Naamah said as she tipped her head toward Javan without looking at him, “I can’t say that it really is.” Naamah looked back to Javan without her smile. Now she was glaring at him. “Why are you here? You know I don’t like you. And you know why.”
He did know why, and he was surprised that she was willing to be in the same vicinity as him at all. Last time they’d seen each other, she’d almost died—something she blamed Javan for, even though it wasn’t really his fault. “I need some information and I thought if anyone would have the knowledge I seek, it would certainly be you.” Flattery never hurt, especially where Naamah was concerned.
Naamah moved past Javan and Som and sat on one of the ottomans in the room, then motioned for them to do the same with a gesture of her hand. The motion and expression on her face were both born of boredom, and that wasn’t boding well for Javan.
Once they’d settled on two seats, Naamah spoke again. “What is it you’d like to know?”
“I’ve recently come in to the possession of the Book of Barabbadon.”
A single brow raised on Naamah’s perfect face. “So I’ve heard. And . . .”
“And even though I have it, I don’t know when I can use it. I thought, since you’ve been privy to information throughout the years, that you might be able to shed some light on when I can use it?”
“I see. And why should I share this information with you, Javan, if I have it?”
“Honestly, the only reason you should is if you want Darkness to win the Great War. If I have the ability to use the Book, it’s almost guaranteed we will.”
“Almost guaranteed?” Naamah asked as she shook her head. “I don’t think I like the sound of that, Javan. Because, if the Book fell in to the hands of our foes, I bet the angels and Yahuwah would be certain of their chances of victory.”
Javan ground his molars together and his pulse pushed faster, harder through his veins. He hated being at anyone’s mercy, and it made it even worse that Som was there to witness it. He needed his allies to remain certain of his ability to reach his goals, whether they liked him or not. He needed Som to stay firmly in his corner, and any doubt that could be sown in his mind would eventually lessen his loyalty.
Javan concentrated on calming himself. Once he did, he leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees to make himself look as relaxed as possible. “That’s exactly why I need to know when I can use it, Naamah. Once I do, and since I know without a doubt I can keep it out of their hands, we will have what we need to win. If they had the Book, it wouldn’t help them at all. It will only help Darkness get a better advantage over them—an advantage you know we need.”
Javan noticed what he thought was a shift in her expression, and he hoped his words hit the mark. “What would be better for us, Naamah, to have the power the Book can offer when the final battle in the Great War begins, or to not have it and take our chances with what we now have at our disposal?”
Javan waited for her to answer, watching as she took her time to consider what he was saying. After what seemed like a few minutes had passed, his leg began to bounce from impatience, and he fought to keep from grinding his teeth again. Finally, she rose and made her way to a bar. She gathered three glasses and poured a claret liquid into them from a decanter, then she brought them back and handed Javan and Som one before sitting again.
“I see the merit in your argument, Javan.” Naamah took a long sip from her glass before continuing. “But like I said . . . I don’t like you. And I certainly do not trust you. I won’t ever make that mistake again.”
“I’m sorry for what happened before, Naamah. Truly. I never would have met you had I known I was being followed by the angels that were hunting you. You must know that I wouldn’t have put you in that kind of danger. Especially with your ability to increase our numbers.” Javan let his words sink in for a moment before continuing. “In addition, you’re a wealth of information, Naamah. Everyone knows it, even the angels. You’re far too important for me to have intentionally risked.”
“Flattery will not help you now, Javan. Your words are sweet, but your intentions make them sickeningly so.”
So maybe flattery didn’t help when it came to Naamah. At least not when it came from Javan. “It’s not meant as flattery, Naamah. It’s simply the truth.” Javan tipped his glass back, downing half its contents before wondering what he was drinking. He winced when he realized it was human blood. Of course, it was . . . he was being served by Naamah, after all. It wasn’t that Javan was opposed to ingesting human blood, he just never acquired a taste for it. He’d much rather have bourbon pass his lips than plasma, blood cells, and platelets. He lowered the glass and waited for Naamah to either answer or remove his head. Unfortunately for Javan, either scenario seemed equally possible.
