Page 6 of Torn Between Two Worlds

Taking a deep breath, she walked to the bathroom. Washing her face would make the train wreck trail of makeup on her face go away and maybe a little of the redness to her cheeks from the wind chill and crying too. She turned the water on to an icy cold because Alcott would have hated that, and she wanted to piss him off, even if he hadn't done anything wrong.

Ciara stuck her hands in the water and splashed it onto her face, the cold hardly noticeable. She scrubbed under her eyes to remove the mascara and eyeliner that had smudged and jammed into her pores. Turning off the water, she looked into the mirror. Her face was done enough, the makeup and redness were gone, even if under her eyes looked a bit raw from her harsh scrubbing. All that was left were bloodshot eyes, and since Derrick had known, she had finally lost it and cried, she didn't need to look completely put together. Ciara pulled her hair back into a ponytail and walked back into her bedroom to pick up her purse and keys from the floor. There was no reason for Derrick to think she was so upset she’d dropped everything to cry. She needed to figure out a plan and hope Derrick would believe her sudden show of emotion was just being overwhelmed by change.

Seeing the book on the couch, she sat down and decided to read some more of it to see what she could learn about her new Guardian. Not that she had accepted him, but any information she could get may help her get rid of him as well. It was odd, Stryder was a minor character, and yet, he'd been pulled. She'd been under the impression it needed to be someone she emotionally identified with, and she didn't see that having happened with the few scenes Stryder was in. No, it had been something else entirely, or there would have been no Guardian. She cursed herself for her betrayal because she had thought about how sexy he must be and what it would be like to be consumed by a man like him. Sighing at her thoughts, she turned the page to find where she had left off.

He did look exactly how she had pictured him when she had fallen asleep dreaming about the book the night before. He was tall and built like the warrior he and his brothers most certainly were. His blue eyes matched hers, something she always thought would never happen, since hers were a freakish, almost demonic shade of blue. Go figure, it would be on a demon that she found a color match. But the intensity in them could set anyone's desires on fire. He had bedroom eyes, lust filled and so intense that he could burn a hole in someone.

She chuckled, Derrick had attempted bedroom eyes once, he'd ended up looking high, and instead of getting her into bed, he'd made her laugh. She somehow doubted Stryder’s rocky personality would lend itself to laughter.

Stryder's hair was a dark black and barely longer than a buzz cut, and he had the sexiest smile.Really, can smiles be sexy?She thought about the look he'd given her when she first walked in and swallowed.Yes, they sure could.

Unable to concentrate on finding the page where she had left off, she settled back into the couch and started over from the beginning. It was Demarcus' book. Death's apprentice book. Stryder was a demon, the byproduct of the Horsemen seducing and conceiving with some of the highest archangels that had existed. Lucifer had devised it so that there would be four angels to watch over the children. The young babes were to be a backup system so that once the Horsemen had started the Apocalypse, there would be demons strong enough to finish it. As an insurance plan to ensure his place on Earth when it was all over, he had sent the Horsemen to seduce and kill the angels once the children were born. The infants were then shipped off, each with a Horseman, to train and learn everything they would need.

Lucifer knew they would never actually be replacements for the Horsemen, but being raised by them would give them skills that could be both taught and shared through a DNA link to their demonic fathers. They could summon their fathers at will and allow the Horsemen to share their body for a time. The four brothers were nothing more than surrogates, pawns to keep the real Horsemen safe whenever a demonic force was needed to combat with Heaven.

However, Lucifer's plan wasn't foolproof, the angelic tie allowed the angels to call on the men to fight as well, to fight the demons they were raised with. Ciara assumed it would depend on the balance shift, without evil, the world would be doomed just as if there were no good. She made a note to ask Stryder more if she ever spoke to him because she couldn’t imagine the pain of having to turn on family and friends simply because a blood link compelled them.

The idea both intrigued and terrified her. A link so strong with something so evil meant Stryder and his brothers had to be laced with evil under their angelic looks. If that was the case, then what did it say about her if she had shown interest in such an evil character? How dark was he and just what crimes had he committed, would he commit?

There was so much more she needed to know in order to understand how this had happened. How could she have formed a link with someone based on a few quick sentences? Stryder seemed to still be a two dimensional character. He was handsome, a ladies’ man and a real charmer, who most assuredly had a tragic past, he could really be the hero of a romance novel when it was his turn.

Still, odd though. Even as she’d slept the night before, it had been Stryder she had dreamed about. She'd dreamed about him fighting across a modern war field to get to her and stop her from marrying the enemy's commander to stop the war. A silly girl’s dream, but it made for good sleeping.

She must have fallen asleep reading the book. When Derrick came home, she heard the faint click of the door and felt him not so gently shake her shoulder to completely rouse her from her nap.

“Hey, sleepy. On our very limited time together, you aren’t allowed to crash out on the couch with some book called,” he reached over and grabbed the book from where it must have fallen beside her, “Death's Delight, at three in the afternoon.”

Groggy, she rubbed her hand over her eyes and pushed herself to sit up. In his hands, she saw a pint of Cold Stone and made a puppy dog face at him. He laughed and handed it to her.

“Banana with Snickers chunks, think of it as a peace offering for waking you up, leaving you after we've been so great together and keeping you from your book.”

She laughed, shook her head and took the tub. “No dice, ex-boyfriend. How about for keeping me from my book and for waking me? But for leaving, oh no, you need a better peace offering than just this, bud.” She had to scrunch her face up to keep the comment lighthearted and ignore the disappointment rolling around in her head over the reality of him leaving. He really was leaving, and she wasn't as comfortable with it as she had been before.

“Oh really, darling?”

She chuckled at the horrid nickname. Ever since she had made him watch aMary Tyler Mooremarathon in high school, he had called her that when he was teasing. He loved watching her cringe, and she almost liked the nickname—ten years later.

Playfully shoving him off the couch, she stood up and took the tub of ice cream to the freezer, amazed that she had any ability to walk away from her comfort food on a day like today. “Oh yes, I have a plan for us, a much better way for us to spend our time.” She laughed at the hungry look she saw in his eyes when she turned around. “Mind out of the gutter, Derrick. Not that I'll lie and say my body couldn't use a comfort screw, but we aren't going to be that couple. We broke up, and sadness and loneliness, or not, we are not crossing that line.”

He nodded his head, the fire dimming in his eyes, and he shifted them down as he walked to her. A pit formed in her stomach, she had no clue what was coming, but his body language said it wasn't something she would like to hear.

Derrick took her hands in his and finally raised his eyes to meet hers. Her breathing slowed, caught in her throat over the fear of what he might say.

“I know we thought we had another night or two, but tonight is our last night. Tomorrow, I have to spend the night in the hotel to get to my plane in time. We live too far from the airport, and the driver they have set up won't come this far in the middle of the night.” He sighed. “I know we decided this is best for us. I just really did think we would get married one day. I guess it's a good thing this opportunity came up, and we realized we were more about safety nets than fiery passion, huh?”

Blood pounded in her ears, and the tears she had tried to shake off before fell again. She felt Derrick put his arms around her, wrapping her up against his warm body, trying to comfort her. She shook him off, untangling his arms because she didn't do comfort, because she didn't cry.

Damn you, Alcott. She didn’t cry, earlier had been a slip. She didnotcry. Not anymore, not since her parents death. The situation was all just so overwhelming, but she wouldn't let him comfort her. That would be a slippery slope to changing the decision that had already been made. She was already so close to asking him to rethink it because of her fear of having to face everything alone.

She sniffled loudly and quickly wiped the few tears from her face. “No, this isn't the time to cry. I'm sorry, Derrick, it’s just so much to take in. Ignore it.” She offered him a shaky smile. “How about I tell you that idea of mine and make this the best last night in an American apartment ever?”

He laughed and shrugged. “Sure, lay it on me, darling. How awful could this really be?”

She grinned back at him and wiggled her eyebrows, some of the sadness from earlier slipping away. “How does watching a nice, cheesy, kiddy movie, eating the ice cream, and then something just for you after sound?”

Hunger returned to his eyes, and she shook her head, laughing again.

“Down boy, I meant I would cook a nice, big, juicy steak and mashed potatoes for our last meal together.”

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