Page 98 of Sleeping Redemption
Taking a look over my shoulder at the door at my back, I stared at the lock. He wouldn’t escape what was owed to him. My hand reached for the lock, I summoned my angelic strength, and I jammed the lock into place. The sound it made practicallyreverberated in my mind as I bent its components to prevent anyone from escaping before I could destroy Nico.
The image of the entity bouncing around like a pinball between mortals drove my spiraling madness further. St. Cassius had been child’s play compared to what I was willing to do to ensure an end to the demon responsible for my torment. Nico had escaped me centuries ago when he had too many exit points in an open village. Tonight would be like shooting fish in a barrel.
The loud banging against the club’s locked door from the outside would go unanswered as people outside attempted to gain entry. The first of the many humans inside the club with me attempted to leave. He was a young man, his cheeks flushed from the rising amount of body heat inside the room from all the moving bodies. His eyes dilated from a combination of alcohol and lack of lighting.
Tilting my head, I observed him with a coldness filling my gaze. It was like watching a rabbit trying to flee the jaws of a hunter’s metal trap. It was so cute, yet so pointlessly sad. As my eyes lingered over his face, I could damn near taste Nico’s essence all over him.
The poor soul tugged on the door handle to no avail. I stepped over to him, my hand trailing down his shoulder as my fingertips danced over his arm. The confusion in his eyes morphed into something I saw as sinister. My hand thrust up to his throat, his pulse erratic against my grip.
Feel his fear? Feels good, doesn’t it? It’s because he knows you’re trying to stop him. Don’t let him be a host.
My hand tightened, my face set in a neutral expression. There was no pity, no empathy, and sure as shit, no love lost for this one. The pulse beneath my grasp slowed, and the man’s hands clawing at my forearm did nothing to break my hold.
As the mortal shell began to falter, the tell-tale tingling between my shoulder blades appeared. My skin split at the two seams that gave way to my wings emerging. The ratio of black to white feathers aligned with my morality and sanity. Each decision turned another feather to an inky color at my back. One more feather darkened as the heartbeat of the man sputtered and then came to a halt in his chest.
A gust of black wind swirled around him and then slithered into the depths of the crowd of clubgoers. Opening my grip, the deceased man dropped to the floor in a heap.
“Ninety-nine humans in a nightclub, ninety-nine humans for me. Pick one out and snuff them out, ninety-eight humans in a nightclub,” I quietly sang in singsong to myself as my eyes began to bleed into onyx pools with only a pinhole of white light in their center.
With one dead body at my feet and my expansive wings on full display, my dramatics began to draw attention. It was quite a sight to watch as a tidal wave of panic crashed over the sea of people.
Extending my hand out in front of me toward the crowd all around me, my energy burned hot in the center of my palm. “Be still, my obedient little toys.” I spoke my demand with enough authority that my powers of persuasion began plucking at the human will of everyone in the room. One person at a time began to fall under my charm, the power I held over them becoming addictive.
Thanks to the intensity of my anger and fierce determination to put an end to Nico, I had enough energy to prevent the humans from behaving like a wild stampede of panicked animals. Holding onto their will was like having a series of tiny puppet strings attached to my fingertips.
Stepping forward through the masses, I slowly advanced to the center of the club, the tips of my wings caressing over a tear-stained cheek or two on the way. As I admired my power over these shells, these potential hosts to Nico’s existence, I examined every set of eyes with intense scrutiny.
One by one, I could see the shadow of Nico’s essence across them. He was here in all of them. Everything in my body told me he had already tainted them all. There was no logic to it. There was nothing telling me I was wrong. My mind was numb from my anger and suffering, numb from my diminished capacity and lacking awareness.
“Oh, you sweet lambs, don’t fear me. Fearhim. Fear his corruption. I will set you all free from his hold.” My voice was flat and void of emotion.
Despite the silenced voices around me, the upbeat music continued to play from the speakers, providing a contrasting soundtrack to my motives here. The multi-colored lights flickered in chaotic patterns throughout the space, and soon, I planned to add flickering lights of my own.
“Let us pray.” I slowly sank to my knees, pressing my palms together in front of me as I bowed my head. Closing my eyes, I reached out to the only higher power I answered to. Only Lucifer could bestow upon me the power required to enact my plan to wipe these humans from existence and end Nico’s reign.
I murmured my prayer out loud. “Lucifer, I am but your most loyal servant. I ask that you grant me access to your unholy power to free these souls. Let their curse of mortality be broken in your name.”
My face was solemn as I remained on my knees. I patiently waited for my prayer to be answered. There was a rumbling in my chest as a scorching power began to seep into my fibers. A satisfied smirk pulled at my lips. Ask, and you shall receive.
Let them taste the flames of Hell, my dark little vixen.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
The loss of Kinley’s warmth under my palm when she left the table hadn’t gone unnoticed. I knew she had been going through more than anyone ever should. It wasn’t fair what was done to her. Being an immortal being meant there was no limitation on the number of traumatizing events one could possibly endure.
My eyes followed her until Sylas spoke up.
“This was a bad idea.” He pointedly stared at me.
I refused to believe that getting Kinley out of her rut was anything but what she needed. Being stuck inside the loft for several more weeks was only going to breed more unrest and instability. Iknewmy sweet angel. Normalcy in the form of structure and expected outcomes was key to ensuring she was calm.
After several moments of tension lingering between us, Rook was the one to cut through it all.
“You two blokes going to have a pissing match here and now?” He dipped a French fry into the puddle of grease around the bottom of his burger before shoving it into his mouth.
My gaze shifted, looking to see if Sy was willing to bend in the slightest on this. When he sat back in his seat, I knew that maybe he was seeing reason after all.
Sylas drew in a deep breath before he finally spoke up. “When she comes back, we should consider calling it a night. We can try again another night.”
