Page 42 of Touched By Death

Dmitriy laughs disbelievingly. “He’ll never listen to me.”

“Make him listen.” The sharp note punctuating each word makes him pause, the smile on his face falling away. “If you don’t,” I warn. “Aurelia could be lost out there…” I wave a hand through the air. “God only knows where. Forever.”

Chapter Fifteen

AURELIA

Fumbling in the dark for hours and grasping at the icy, damp concrete walls, had left me exhausted. No light reaches this place, and my eyes never get used to the dark, no matter how many hours pass.

I sit pressed against the damp wall with my legs drawn up to my chest, trembling like a leaf until I finally succumb to exhaustion. I wake sometime later when a cold touch to my cheek rouses me from my slumber.

Scrambling back like a startled mouse, I stare at the hooded figure in front of me, his face hidden behind a black mask. A single candle flickers in the corner, the light barely enough to see by. He cocks his head and seems to study me. As I frantically pull my skirt back down to hide my panties, panic seizes me when I realize my wings are tied together and a chain around my ankle secures me to an iron hook on the floor.

“What the fuck?” I blurt, the chain rattling as I fly forward to tug desperately at the clasp around my foot. “What the hell?”

When I attempt to conjure a flame to keep him away, nothing happens. My magic is gone.

I look back at my stalker, and he takes a single step closer as if to test my reaction. Not a second later, I bare my teeth with a feral hiss, and he pauses again. Intrigue oozes off of him like heat waves in summer. I wish he would say something. Utter a word. I need to hear his voice.

Another hiss slips from my lips in warning when he takes yet another step closer. My fingertips itch with the need to conjure a flame, but nothing happens, no matter how much I try. And with my wings tied tightly behind my back, I’m truly at his mercy.

Crouching down in front of me, he studies me for a long moment before tentatively reaching a gloved hand out and touching my ankle. Every muscle in my body seizes up, and a loud, animalistic, vicious growl climbs up my throat.

Fingers pausing, his dark eyes peer back at me from behind the mask. My lips twitch as I continue snarling with my teeth bared, like a feral animal he’s caught. When he slides that gloved hand higher, I kick out at him.

He’s faster, ripping his glove off and throwing a flame at me. He keeps it suspended midair, dangerously close to my exposed neck. The searing heat licks at my skin while he holds his hand out and smooths his other one over my ankle once more. Higher and higher, his gloved fingers travel, until the tips graze my upper thigh.

The snarl in my throat dies when he squeezes my leg. “Don’t fucking touch me,” I whisper viciously, cutting him down with my glare despite the fear that’s slowly drowning me.

Shutting my eyes against the heat at my neck—the necklace of flames he threatens to brand me with if I don’t behave—I wait for his gloved hand to slide higher. To take what he desires. But it never comes.

When I open my eyes, he’s still staring at me from behind that mask, seemingly riveted by my face. Just as fast, the flame dies out, and he darts away from me, hovering near the lone candle in the corner. His long robes graze the floor with every small shift, dragging across dirt and debris.

“Who are you?” I ask, though I know I won’t get an answer.

From a pocket in the robe, he pulls out a knife, and I let out a whimper as he takes slow steps closer. Rocks crunch beneath his leather boots, and the sound sends my heart ricocheting in my chest. Icy dread winds tightly around my throat. I try not to stare at the knife but when the sharp blade catches the glow of the candle, my eyes fall to it.

I scurry back when he’s halfway across the small space, panic skittering across every bone in my body. There’s no escape. It’s just a square room with a door that I can’t reach. There’s not even a fucking window. Nothing.

“Please, no,” I cry out, kicking out again and forcing him back a step before crawling away. The chain pulls taut, preventing my escape. Sobs climb up my throat, clawing at the tight canal, when the heavy thud of his footsteps sounds behind me.

Close. Too fucking close.

Crouching down behind me, his gloved hand encircles my throat from behind, and he dives down to breathe me in. I try not to cry. I try not to break. But when the cold mask brushes up against my neck, a sob wracks through my chest.

A rumble I recognize as a satisfied masculine sound dances across my skin, carrying top notes of curiosity and base notes of anticipation. Releasing my hair, he grips a small section and saws it off, the sharp blade cutting through the strands with ease.

As he rises to his feet, I hold my breath, not daring to slump with relief until his footsteps fade.

Please, leave.

At the sound of a familiar creak, I slowly look over my shoulder. No sooner have I scanned the room than a surprised gasp escapes my lips.

He’s gone.

DARIANA

I sneer at a passing angel that’s dressed in nothing but underwear as I enter the crowded living room. Like a fucking hawk, I seek out Daemon, who sits on the couch with equally scantily dressed girls on each thigh.

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