One Apocalypse (The Dark Side Book 4)

by Kristy Cunning

  See? Would it kill them to all be this sweet when I’m awake?

  They mustn’t have been far behind me, because the nightmares never came, even though I accidentally fell asleep from exhaustion while waiting on them to return.

  Gage and Jude are nowhere to be seen, and I get up when Ezekiel and Kai start rousing from sleep.

  I creep out, even though I hear a small, disappointed groan from behind me that makes me smile. I smile because that disappointment stems from missing me already. At least that’s what I tell myself.

  I move through the hallways as I go phantom and change into my sexy devil girl costume. When I turn back whole, I’m reminded of how much more sensitive my entire body is.

  It’s not because of the brutal beating. The most recent progress has left my body’s senses heightened in all ways.

  I can’t wait to show them my new level of awesome…and hope they don’t ask me how I did it.

  With any luck, Ezekiel and Kai didn’t notice the bruises that are still tender and decorating my—

  “What the hell happened to you?” Jude asks in a quiet voice, startling the shit out of me as I leap like a cartoon cat and go stiff as a board.

  My eyes dart over to find him casually propped up against the wall of the adjacent hallway, eyes on me like he’s been waiting to find me.

  “Sheesh. Don’t scare The Apocalypse! I could accidentally blow this place up,” I say on a staggered breath, putting my hand over my pounding heart.

  His eyes stay on me, a neutral, flat look in his gaze as he remains silent and stoic.

  “H-how did you know I’d come this way?” I ask him when he doesn’t bother saying anything for an awkward amount of time. “Did you level-up enough to see the future? Is that a thing Death can do?” I ask a little hopefully. “Because that would be totally helpful.”

  His somber expression never changing, he comes up, grabs my wrist, and rips the red glove down my arm to reveal all the bruises there.

  He quickly does the same to the other, and then bends over to tear down my stockings, revealing all the bruises I thought I’d so cleverly hidden. I stay still as he finishes, and I swallow the knot in my throat as he studies them.

  I don’t even want to see the ones on my torso. I hope he doesn’t know about them. That’s the spot that took the brunt force of the archangel smiting.

  Jude stares at me with some impatience, and…something else. Not love, but…is that concern? Death gets angry, not worried.

  “I leveled up,” I tell him, smiling to help lighten the mood, but his expression never wavers. “I didn’t want you having to witness what I presumed it would take to level up again. It gets harder every time, but…I think I maxed out, at least for now, if that makes it any—”

  I shut up real quick when he shoves my chest and knocks me against the wall, caging me in as he bends to be eye-to-eye with me.

  “I don’t know what’s worse: Knowing you can slip off to level-up without us having a clue what you’re up to, or watching it happen before our very eyes and not being able to do anything about it,” he says with that steady, quiet tone, while he keeps his hands on the wall on either side of my head.

  “I don’t understand all this any better than you do,” I say softly, clearing my throat. “I’m guided by instinct and determination right now. It’s like I’m on a dark and twisted adventure run, and while the rules and regulations are vague, the quests are obvious.”

  My babbling cuts out when I see not even that rambling tangent can piss him off.

  “I think I’m more freaked out by a calm Death than an angry one. Can you do some ranting, glaring, and typical routines of frustrated tics?” I ask, deciding I don’t know what to do when he’s being…less hostile.

  Nothing changes. He keeps staring like he’s waiting on me to say whatever it is he expects to hear right now.

  “You intentionally provoked us today so you could be dismissed, didn’t you?” he asks as though he simply needs confirmation.

  “Am I truly that transparent?” I ask on a groan.

  My eyes widen as he spins me, and my breath catches in my throat as he rips my underwear away. When he kicks my legs apart, I dart a look to the hallway, finding Kai blocking the entrance to us, his back facing us.

  “Is this more punishment?” I ask as I swallow around a lump in my throat.

  “Just shut up and take me,” Jude says almost angrily against my ear.

  I have no idea what’s gotten into him, nor do I mind when he grabs my hips and quickly pushes inside me. My head falls back on his chest, as his grip on my hips gets tighter.

  All those super sensitive senses are really happy about this right now. Really happy.

  This is the first time I’ve had him…just the two of us…well, sort of. Kai’s not watching us. He’s simply watching out for us.

  Turning my head, I grab the back of his neck, and he hungrily kisses me as he thrusts with abandon. It’s just as brutal and exciting as I imagined it would be.

  He pulls out of me abruptly, and I start to argue, when he turns me around, lifts me up, and picks right up where he left off. Now, however, he can devour me more thoroughly.

  My fingers tangle in his hair, and I ignore the bite of pain from my aching, bruised and battered body, as I revel in Death’s touch.

  It’s intense. Just like him.

  It’s savage. Just like him.

  It’s unrelenting. Just like him.

  I break the kiss, burying my face against his throat, when the orgasm tears through me without much warning or build.

  He only gets that much more desperate, chasing his own, as his strokes get wilder and more erratic. Trapped between his body and the unforgiving wall, being taken like a wild animal in Hell, it’s the best way we could have had our first solo moment.

  My body grows more sensitive and hungry, and then…

  My heart hammers against my chest when I feel that telling moment cresting, our souls just barely brushing up against one another. They both snap away from each other as a cold sensation washes over me, and Jude’s hips still inside me as he blows out a breath.

  Even though I’m physically sated and have no right to complain, a hint of disappointment slices through me as he kisses his way down my neck.

  I thought it was about to happen.

  That moment where...I just knew he loved me. But he held back.

  Still, it’s closer than I would have believed. He never acts like he cares quite that much.

  He holds me to him as he shakes against me, panting for air, and I wind my arms around his neck, content to be held.

  Kai blows out what sounds like a breath of frustration.

  “Sorry. Were you waiting your turn?” I ask, smiling as Jude grunts against me, muttering something about not being able to hold my attention for very long.

  Kai glances over his shoulder and winks at me. “If he’s already finished—”

  “Already?” Jude bites out. “Stop making it sound like I was a minute—”

  A heavy banging sounds out, as though someone is beating a gong on a loud speaker. All of Hell quakes, and Jude hugs me to him as we all look upward.

  “One of you know what that means?” I ask, not liking the sound of it.

  “It means I’ll have to get a raincheck,” Kai grumbles as he siphons out.

  I go phantom, changing quickly, as Jude grabs my hand. I don’t know how they know where we’re going, but I’m happy someone else is leading the way, because I certainly don’t have a clue which direction the gong is coming from.

  We land in a room full of snakes slithering all over the floor, and I leap in Jude’s arms…and slap the floor, because he doesn’t catch me. He’s in the process of tucking himself back in his pants, and we’re surrounded by serpents and Hell people.

  I squeak out a sound when a cobra rushes between my legs and snaps at me, but when the floor around me pulses with a ring of purple fire, all the snakes closest turn to ash, bringing me immedia
te satisfaction.

  Jude pulls me from the ground, brow furrowed.

  “Was your fire purple?” he asks very seriously, as though he’s certain he was seeing things just now.

  “Mwahahaha,” I tell him, grinning broadly.

  He doesn’t look even a little bit amused, and he abandons me with Gage, who is already dragging me against his hard body, while the other two follow Jude to where everyone is gathering.

  “Lamar said he found something. We’re meeting up with him once we figure out what’s going on here,” Gage tells me as he tugs down one of my purple gloves, inspecting the minor damage to my arms.

  “I’m healing rapidly. Please don’t be mad. A girl’s gotta do—”

  “We’ll talk about it later,” he grumbles, pressing his forehead to the crown of my head as he blows a warm breath of exhaustion into my hair. “I liked it better when you were only turning whole long enough to get fucked,” he confesses.

  I pat his hand, leaning my head back on his shoulder, relishing this semi-sweet moment of affection. Though, they’ve all gotten noticeably more affectionate.

  I think Jude’s incident brought us all closer, even though I didn’t start noticing it until after he woke up. My attention was solely on him for those horrifying hours, worrying about pain…that he apparently wasn’t feeling.

  I can’t go through that fear ever again.

  Yet, I can’t defeat Jahl without my horsemen, because they represent a huge chunk of power The Apocalypse needs to be considered whole. Hence the reason they’re The Four Horsemen of The Apocalypse.

  “You must be thinking too hard, because there’s literally smoke pluming from your ears right now,” Gage states in a somewhat amused/concerned tone.

  I dart a look at the reflective black stone next to us, and my eyes widen when I see he’s not joking.

  “I feel like that should be embarrassing,” I note. “Tell me what you figure out. I’m going ahead to meet up with Lamar.”

  I go phantom and zap out before he can argue, mostly because I’m still irked by the almost-love confession I feel robbed of and need some bestie time with Lamar before the guys come in with their serious faces and demanding agendas.

  Lamar is in the room, oblivious to me, even though he rubs the back of his neck and looks around. Sometimes he senses me, and sometimes he’s not sure if he senses me or not.

  He returns his attention to the stack of open books on the table, and he reads over them very carefully, lips moving silently to the foreign languages.

  I take a seat right next to him before I abruptly appear, and he yelps as he leaps back and falls out of his chair. I smile down at him as he makes an indignant sound and hops to his feet, dusting his clothes off, and returns his ass to his chair.

  “I hate it when you do that,” he says in a dry tone.

  “I know. So, listen. Jude almost did the I-love-you-soul-blending thing—”

  “You don’t have a soul. You have a destructive core,” he reminds me, brow furrowing as he seems to strain his attention to say that much, while he reads very eagerly.

  I glance at the hieroglyphics that look like a lot of bird and sun symbol gibberish to me.

  “Well, my destructive core feels soothed by their dark souls and there’s an intimate, internal exchange—”

  “Shhhh,” he hisses, his attention solely on the books.

  “Aren’t you supposed to be my biggest fan or something?” I ask as I arch an unimpressed eyebrow at him.

  “Right now, I think I’m your biggest source of information,” he tells me as he slides the book in front of me. “This is one of your journals, and though the language is ancient and dead, the pages prove it’s one of your most recent writings. I found it hidden in…never mind. Just read.”

  I stare at him like he’s an idiot.

  He blinks at me like he’s just realized he’s an idiot.

  “Oh, right. Your languages are limited—”

  “Just read it to me, Lamar,” I groan, not needing a reminder that I’m so much less amazing than the old me.

  He clears his throat and starts running his finger along the lines from right to left.

  “Roughly translated to make sense in English, it says, ‘If the second trigger is ignited, it’ll be useless in combat with Jahl. There will be an implosion within the confines of the Pure Branch—”

  “The what?” I ask, confused.

  “The Pure Branch is the name of the cage that holds Jahl. Some say it was created by the creator…if you know what I mean,” he tells me in a conspiratorial whisper, as though there’s a name that can’t be so much as muttered down here.

  I nod like it makes perfect sense, and prompt him to continue.

  “Jahl can’t be destroyed by one more pure than impure—”

  “What does that mean?” I ask when he reads that line like it’s paramount above all other information.

  He looks me directly in the eyes. “It means no pure champion ever stood a chance, and only a being as tainted and untainted as yourself could ever hope to wage a war and glimpse a victory. We’ve theorized this, but this is just more proof that we’re right.”

  “That sounded incredibly drawn out. So in other words, they should have designed their champion a little more like me,” I state as I glance down, wishing I could read this shit myself.

  “Only without a destruction sequence,” he says as though that’s his only argument on the matter. “If one such as you had wielded two weapons—good and evil—then possibly…”

  He grows quiet, reading ahead without sharing with those of us who can’t read gibberish.

  “What does it say?” I ask, annoyed by this point.

  I came for girl talk, and instead, I get Jahl talk.

  “They came to the conclusion too late, which you already know. The most important part is that you knew it long before they did. Long before the champion even went against Jahl, according to this dating here,” he says, pointing at some sketchy marks that make no sense. “You studied it a lot more intensively than they seem to realize, because you were preparing yourself for this decision.”

  “I was?” I ask, leaning forward. “It seems like I already know that,” I add as I sit back. “Have we talked about this already?”

  “I honestly don’t know. The information has been overwhelming, even for me. I’ve been let in on critical, high-level things so often lately that it’s staggering to try to keep up with all of it,” he confesses, sounding as exhausted as I feel. “There’s just not enough time in the short days before this battle has to conclude, and it’s starting to take its toll on me.”

  Lamar’s words grow quieter toward the end once he becomes absorbed by the very distracting journal entry. I’m happy I don’t have to remind him I’m sitting here before he starts sharing what he’s learned again.

  “The second trigger is mentioned a lot in these journals. Manella said Lucifer doesn’t even know how to activate it or where you put it inside you. It was something he helped you design for yourself, with a reserve of power, but I half wonder if you didn’t use it to reset yourself and come back stronger. You’d have had to give up something very powerful, and that’s the only thing I can think of that could make up for all you’ve gained,” he tells me.

  “My purple flame came at the price of avoiding flipping the trigger that will officially end the weapon and cost me my one shot at living?” I ask incredulously.

  That doesn’t sound like something the old me would do just to have hotter fire.

  “Purple fire?” He stops and looks over at me in confusion, so I let a small orb of fire form in my hand.

  His eyes widen and he leans way back.

  “It’s really purple. And it’s even hotter than it was. Did you already level up again?” he asks in stunned disbelief.

  “I’m on a time crunch. Drastic measures are required. Seriously, though, what’s the point in being hotter if I can’t destroy him without risking destroying—”

&nb
sp; “If you pull your main trigger, it won’t be enough unless you weaken Jahl substantially first,” he says, eyes flicking to mine. “Lucifer isn’t wrong about that. Everything I’ve read supports his many objections and arguments. All of his arguments. Manella has filled me in on every counterstrike Lucifer will have against this course of action.”

  “So it really is pointless to fight Jahl?” I ask, sitting back and feeling oddly disappointed.

  He slants his gaze toward me, smirking.

  “It was. Unless you really did give up that second trigger for a lot more power so you could defeat him without blowing up yourself and your boys inside the Pure Branch. The secondary trigger was pointless, due to the location where the fight has to take place. If he’s out of that cage, it’s useless to fight him no matter how powerful you get. It really will be the end of all.”

  “So…I traded the secondary trigger for pretty fire? That still doesn’t make much sense.”

  “Your fire, Paca, can burn hotter than hellfire, the eternal flame, and purifying fire all combined if I fear the heat from such a small bit. It’s possible you intended to burn away Jahl’s impurities until it ceases to exist. But it’ll have to be after you’ve weakened it. Jahl is a quickly evolving manifestation that learns and adapts too easily because it has single-minded goals. Strike too soon, and it could find a way to defend itself.”

  “No pressure, right?” I ask as I drop my head to my arm. “So…what you’re saying is there is a point to this fight, and I do stand a chance, so long as I time everything perfectly—”

  “Oh shit,” he says suddenly, staring at the pages in disbelief.

  I’m scared to ask, but…

  “What now?”

  He stands abruptly and goes to the door, peering around, and then he chants something that seemingly creates a burst of energy, which visibly wavers around the room.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Ensuring this conversation stays private,” he says as he takes a seat again, fingers running over the page very rapidly, as though he’s quickly rereading to ensure he’s understood correctly.

  I think.

  I have no choice but to speculate, because he’s certainly not in any hurry to clue me in.