Page 18 of Touched By Death

While I expect him to laugh, he doesn’t so much as smile. Instead, he studies my face intently before sweeping his dark eyes past me to stare into the distance. After taking a sip of his beer, he puts it back down onto a coaster he pulled from beneath an abandoned glass. His movements are careful and measured, and I can’t help but notice the lethal grace in each shift of his muscles beneath his shirt. He looks at me, at my wings peeking up behind my shoulders. “They won’t leave you with a choice. This is Hell, remember? When we want something, we take it.”

Breaking eye contact, I mutter, “How could I forget?”

“Would it be that bad? To be with them again?”

It’s a question I’ve mulled over in my head. “I can’t watch him marry someone else.”

“I get it.”

“And if they marry, then what? I’ll be their thing on the side?”

“I’m not gonna pretend I understand the dynamics between you all.” He takes another sip of his beer while I curse the clogged feeling in my chest that refuses to go away. “So,” Dmitriy starts, his tongue darting out to lick away the froth on his lip. With a tip of his chin in the barman’s direction, he says, “What’s the plan? Invite him out to dinner afterward?” His voice drips with amusement, and his eyes shine beneath the dim lighting as I shoot him a look of disapproval.

“Very funny.” My eyes seek out the barman again and skate down his body, then back up to linger on the pulse point in his neck. The throb in my teeth as they elongate has my hand flying up to cover my mouth.

Dmitriy clasps my shoulder and gently squeezes it when I hurriedly take another sip of cider. “You’ll get the hang of it soon.”

I guzzle it down like it’s my lifeline, then slam the bottle back down and scan the room. Wooden beams run the length of the roof, a fire crackles in a fireplace near the back, and lone candles decorate each table. I let my gaze slide over each one before closing my eyes and inhaling a slow, deep breath. In my mind’s eye, shadows crawl out from between the gaps in the wooden flooring, a thick mist traveling along the ground and devouring everything in its path. It comes for me, chasing away the pain that grips my heart in a vice. The moment the cold brush of gnarled, crooked fingers with oozing, maggot-eaten flesh curl around my bare ankle, chaos erupts. Each candle blows out, and the flames from the fireplace spread across the floor, setting curtains and furniture alight.

Dmitriy chokes on his beer and jumps off the barstool. “What the fuck are you doing?”

The flames heat my cheeks, growing taller and fiercer, burning everything in their path—a vessel for mindless destruction. My soul feeds on the chaos and fear. Humans run left and right in their panic to find a way out, but the flames block the only exit.

Inhaling their exquisite screams, I jump off the barstool and home in on my meal near a window. He throws a chair at it, effectively breaking the glass and feeding the flames more oxygen. The curtain rod falls, and he ducks out of the way of the burning curtains.

“Jesus, fuck,” Dmitriy blurts, staring disbelievingly at the horror unfolding in front of us. “We need to get out of here.”

“What’s the hurry?” I ask, a small smile playing at the corners of my lips as the terror that clogs the air licks at my skin like a lover’s caress, promising pleasure and release. The blood in my veins thrums with power. Now, all I need is blood.

My meal helps as many as he can out the window before pulling a chair over, arm held over his mouth to protect him from the thick smoke. As he disappears through the window, I follow him, deaf to the screams and fear in the room.

Climbing out behind him, I land amongst the shattered pieces of glass in the grass and seek him out amongst the coughing, crying humans. I find him near the road, seated on the lawn with his head in his hands.

“What are you doing now?” Dmitriy asks. He sounds fed up with me, as though I’m an unruly child.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” I cross the grass, but Dmitriy stops me with a firm grip on my shoulder before I can reach the man I have my eyes on.

“I’m serious, Aurelia. What are you doing?” Gesturing vigorously behind him, his concerned eyes find mine again. “You burned the pub down within five minutes of entering. Why?”

I can’t explain to him why the darkness inside me craves destruction or understand why his doesn’t. Instead, I shrug him off and turn to make my way to the stranger with the dreads, but Dmitriy grabs my wrist and pulls me back. “Answer the question.”

My wings flutter behind me with unease as I scan the scene in front of me. Tall flames reach for the starry sky, and the air is thick with black smoke and coughing humans, some bleeding from scrapes and cuts. One woman collapses to her knees near the set of doors and releases a guttural scream that should horrify me. But a ripple of pleasure coils down my spine. I turn back to look at the man with the dreads, who stares off into the distance as if it pains him to face the terror in front of him.

Dmitriy grips my shoulder and shakes me. “What is wrong with you? What is this?”

“Wrong with me?” I ask uncomprehendingly. “We’re fallen angels from Hell. We don’t have morals, remember?”

With that, I shrug him off and cross the lawn with one goal in mind—drain the human. The blood in my veins quickens with anticipation, and my heart thuds heavily as I crouch down before him and clasp his stubbly chin. As soon as his blue eyes find mine, I channel my stirring magic to place him under a spell.

“You’re gonna come with me,” I instruct when his eyes grow hazy and distant. Then I take his big hand and lead him away from the burning pub toward the dense cluster of trees across the road.

Dmitriy calls after me, but I don’t turn around, too seduced by the darkness inside me that calls me forward, whispering my name from behind the shadows stretching out on the grass. Breathing in the scent of the night, mixed with the inferno, I stretch my wings out behind me. Thick smoke conceals our retreating forms from prying eyes, but the instinct to hide him from view and to secure my meal from other potential predators is still at the forefront of my mind as we enter the tree line.

Pushing him up against a thick trunk, my nose descends on his neck, and my hands mold against the grooves in the rough bark. A soft, satisfied moan rumbles in my throat at the scent of his iron-rich blood. My clit pulses as I drag my tongue over the curve of his chin to taste his tempting lips. I bite down, digging my nails into the bark. He begins to emerge from his daze, and anticipation thrums in my veins at the thought of his fear, how it’ll taste when I finally release him completely.

Letting go of the cold bark, I squeeze the outline of his dick. He’s hard, much to my pleasant surprise, and I groan into his mouth and tangle my tongue with his. “There’s a good boy,” I whisper, reaching for the top button and undoing it with a quick flick of my thumb. As I go to pop the next button in line, I’m suddenly wrenched off him and tossed to the damp ground.

Towering over me, Alaric bares his teeth with a feral hiss and puts his boot on my chest to keep me down. To say that I’m surprised would be a lie. I’m not.

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