by K.N. Lee
“I have a few questions before we get out of here. I know you’re hungry, but…”
“Go ahead. Sh…” She bit back the word “shoot.” Instead, she said, “Ask me anything.”
Prowling back and forth along the top of the Copley Heights building, Ace moved with predatory grace. He virtually vibrated with frenetic energy, like a tiger in a cage. “First off…do you have a name, winged-woman?” He paused in front of her, a slight smile on his breathtaking face. “I prefer to know the name of the women who save my lives with their flaming swords. I’m Ace. Ace Diamanté.”
“Diamanté. Are you Italian?”
He shook his head. “Mom’s Spanish. My dad’s French. In French, it means adorned with diamonds. Right now, it means stuck in a dark mine searching for anything with light. I don’t think there is any—except maybe you.” He reached out his hand.
Kara, seated cross-legged on the dirty white concrete, studied him. Finally, she lifted her arm. “Kara. Kara Falko.”
When they touched a sudden spark of electricity sizzled into her hand.
They both yanked their hands back.
His eyes narrowed to slits. “What kind of human flies and carries a flaming sword, huh? Answer me that. You’re a robot, right? One of those top-secret things the Chinese or the Russians built to spy on the United States, right?”
She shook her head.
“Human clone with super features?”
Again, she shook her head. How much should I tell him?
“Then what the fuck are you? Most humans don’t have wings.”
“Maybe I’m not most humans.”
His head lowered, and he pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m losing it, aren’t I? I’m going to need to be committed because now I’m hallucinating hot babes with wings, saving me from my other fucked-up hallucinations.”
Lifting his head, lips pursed, he studied her the way one might study a science experiment.
“I don’t think you’re losing it. I think we’re both searching for answers. Like…here’s my question for you…how is it you can see my wings and sword? Most humans aren’t supposed to be able to see them.”
He shrugged. “Maybe I’m not most humans.”
“Touché.”
His breath filled his cheeks and he slowly blew it out. He resumed pacing. “I took a chance on you. I figured if a winged-woman took a chance on me, well...that’s as far as I got. I thought maybe I was hallucinating my own survival strategy. I always took a keen interest in Nordic mythology in school,” he said with a self-deprecating laugh. “What red-blooded male wouldn’t fancy himself being saved from his own insanity by a gorgeous babe with hair like fire and wings? I still don’t believe you’re real and I’m not merely tripping hard. But I didn’t off myself. At least there’s that.” Rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger, he said, “Tell me what those dark demons are. They want to kill me.”
How much do I tell him?
She chewed on her lower lip before answering. “I don’t exactly know what they are. I know what their purpose is, however.”
“Enlighten me.” He came to a stop in front of her.
Hands on his slim hips, he afforded her an up-close and in-her-space view of his sinewy muscular grace. Dark hair covered his bronze legs and arms. His wild hair blew around him. Even though he stood before her, he seemed incapable of ceasing to move.
She thought about a science class she took in high school, where she learned about electrical fields like the Faraday cage, surrounding and containing charged particles. She wondered if an electrical field existed that could contain this man’s energy. Her attention dropped to his beautiful arms. She wanted to feel what those arms felt like, wrapped around her. He had the strangest effect on her. It made her heart beat wildly like a horse let free from the corral.
His right biceps bore a tattoo of a sword with wings.
She let her gaze rest there, buying a few seconds with which to calm her racing heart.
She extended her hand. “Help me up, please.”
With a mere tug, he had her on her feet, inches away from him. Gripping her hand, he studied her face, his head cocked slightly. He stroked her hand with his thumb, as his gaze lingered on her face.
The man was stunning. As if conceived by Michelangelo, he was, perhaps, the most beautiful man she’d ever seen.
His blue eyes held depth, speaking to having seen more than his twenty-plus years. His dark, silky hair, now mussed, framed his face with swirls and waves. A set of inked wings rested atop his collarbones.
“You like winged-things, huh?” She glanced at the ink, then her gaze slid back to his.
He said simply, “I do.”
She longed to trace the wings with the tip of her finger, pausing at the pulse in the hollow of his neck. She took a step back, instead. FBI Training 101—never let an investigation be compromised by physical attraction. Not that this is an investigation.
“Right,” Ace said, as if agreeing with both her desire and her desperate need to not yield to it. “So, what were you going to tell me...about what you know about the demons?”
“All I know is, when a person is dying, common thought suggests you either go to the good place or the bad place. Apparently, there are other, worse places to go. They snatch the weak to go to the bad place.”
He let out a laugh and then resumed his pacing, throwing his hands in the air.
“Oh, this is perfect. So, you’re telling me I’m weak? You sound like my mother, comparing me with my corporate lawyer brother. ‘Why can’t you be more like him? Have more prestige...more power’,” he said in a mocking voice. “Because I want to be free, mom. I don’t want to be a caged beast in my isolated tower. I want to live.”
“I didn’t say you’re weak. I only told you what I know about the Drascatu, which isn’t much.”
He whirled to face her. “The Drascatu? What the fuck?”
She shrugged. “They’re called Drascatu Shadespawn.”
“I’m being chased by Drascatu Shadespawn. That makes it okay,” he said, sarcasm dripping from his tongue. “Okay, winged-woman, dig this. Here’s my reality. I see the world differently than my brother. I view colors and shapes and movement. I see it differently than my mother. I witness beauty and the soul’s longing. She sees two brothers and she holds them up to the light to determine which one is better...not merely different, but better. And I damn sure don’t look at life the same way as my UCLA football coach prick of a father. All he sees is victory, competition, and failure. I’m the failure.” His lip curled. “I’ve had to fight to be different. Every day I try to prove to my family, to my extended family, to everyone that it’s okay to not look or act like them. How is that weak?”
Kara took a step back.
He paused. “Sorry. It’s a hot button of mine to be told I’m less than.”
“I didn’t say that. I’m as confused as you are. You don’t seem weak in the least.” Kara pressed her palms to her temples. “This is so fucked up. I feel like a toddler sent to slay dragons or something.”
“Welcome to my world.” Ace smiled at her. “I’m starving. Let’s go eat. We can sort as we go.”
Kara’s tummy let out a growl. “Yeah. I can’t remember the last time I ate.”
The corner of his mouth quirked. “Well, you don’t look undernourished.” His eyelids lowered. “You look extremely nourished to me.”
He cast a long, leisurely gaze along the length of her body making her pulse quicken. His eyes paused at her full breasts before sweeping up to her lips.
Lifting his gaze to meet hers, he said, “Excuse my predatory gaze but you’re beautiful. I’m sorry to be such a jerk as to come on to you like this. I can’t help myself.”
She glanced at his shorts, now tented with desire. “Thank you for the compliment, Ace. But...”
Reaching for her hand, he said, “But now is neither the time nor place, rescuer mine.” He tugged her along the rooftop. Standing at the edge, he p
eered at a six-foot-wide crevice running the length of the building. “I know you can fly, and all, but here’s one of my favorite ways to descend life’s mountains. You ever rock climb?”
She shook her head.
He assessed her with a practiced eye. “You’ll do great. Hang onto the edge and lower yourself down. Position yourself in the crevice, legs-wide. Make yourself as flat as you can. Those kick-ass boots you’re wearing should do fine.”
She glanced down at the sturdy, supple boots which were part of her Valkyrie “human acceptable” attire. “Okay, got it. And then, what?”
“Wait for me.” He flashed her a cheeky grin. “I hope I still have some grip on the bottom of my Vans.” He lifted a foot to inspect. “Otherwise, we’ll have to hope your wings can unfurl in time. Ready?”
A thrill of exhilaration launched up her spine. They were about to do something illegal. If law enforcement saw them, they’d be arrested or taken in for questioning. As an FBI agent, she’d never do this sort of thing. Jaidon would never do anything like this. He’d want to find a stairway or an elevator or even call for a chopper.
A huge grin formed on her face. “You trying to turn me into an outlaw, Ace?”
“Says the woman with the wings and flaming sword. Here. Take my hand. I’ll lower you off the edge and help you get steady.” Gripping her tightly, he helped her position herself in the crack.
She gripped the edge of the roof, dangling alongside the wall, her legs spread wide. She glanced over her shoulder. “That’s a long way down, Ace. Are you sure about this?”
“No. I see it as a calculated risk. I calculated this down-climb compared to other down-climbs I have done successfully, factored in the fact you bear wings...and... I think we’ll have some fun.” He positioned his legs wide and bent at the waist until his hands touched the concrete. He placed his hands wider then hers, but close enough to touch. “Keep a good grip, okay?”
“Yes,” she said, her voice shaky.
“I might not land properly. Then you’re going to have to jet to catch me.”
Her fingers clutching the roof, she stared at his upside-down head, peering at her from between his legs. “I’ll do my best.”
“Okay. Three....two...one...” He kicked out his legs. For a few seconds, he stood on his hands, his sleeveless top yielding to gravity to reveal his six-pack abs. Stretched in the air, he looked like a god. Then, he let his legs fall in a graceful arc.
As he fell into position behind her, she tensed, not wanting to smash her face in the wall.
Landing solidly, legs wide, he said, “Nice! Step one. Now you can lean into me and we spider crawl our way down.”
She nestled her butt into his hips. Spooning him this way felt intimate, like a meant-to-be moment.
“Okay,” he said. “Hold onto my wrists. When you feel me move my hand, you move yours, too. Same with the feet and legs. If it gets too hard, we fall and you fly.”
“Won’t I be putting a lot of weight on you?”
“You’ll keep your weight on your feet. Besides, I like to challenge myself.” He chuckled. “What better challenge than to down-climb with a woman who could kick my ass with a flaming sword?”
“You should see me handle an ax,” she murmured, savoring his warmth and nearness.
“I’ll keep that in mind. Anyway, if we fall, you know what to do.”
“I haven’t had my wings long.”
“Oh, great. Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”
Thoughts of Jaidon blew through her mind. Instantly, she stiffened. She couldn’t exactly shove the sneaker-clad seducer from the wall.
“You’ve got to relax,” he said.
“And you’ve got to keep this professional. I’m only here to help.”
“Uh huh.”
“I mean it.”
He let out a long sigh.
His breath tickled her neck, stirring her confusion. “Just...just…go.”
“So, I’ve got a strange relationship with death,” he said, as they inched their way down the building.
She scoffed. “Me, too. You go first.”
“As a seven-year-old child I started sensing decay and darkness, eating away at the edges of people’s souls. I knew when they were going to die.”
Each time they down-stepped, she rubbed against him. “Sounds like a good skill for the FBI to have.”
He chuckled. “Right. But not for a mere mortal, like me. Like, I’d be out getting ice cream with my mom and brother. I’d point at someone and say, ‘He’s dead, mommy’. She’d shush me and apologize to the person if they overhead me. My brother Marco slugged me in the arm, like he was embarrassed to be in the same blood line. Then my mom would read about the guy’s death, or see the news showing someone I tagged as dead had died, and she fucking freak out. Spanked me, like I’d done something wrong. Told me never to say things like that again.
“When Marco and I got to high-school—he’s one year older than me—he taunted me all the time to stay cool with his jock friends. He called me a mutant freak. I skipped school a lot. I hated being there, being around him. I was always in trouble.”
His solid thigh muscles worked against the backs of her legs. Their limbs moved as one, in synchronized fluidity.
“A few months ago, I was visiting my granny in the old folks’ home. I could see the whispers of death all around her. We said our good-byes and boom! Not thirty minutes later, she passed.”
“I’m sorry. Were you close?”
“She raised me more than my parents did. She understood me. I felt...still feel...alone without her. I gave up on life. I started cutting myself...experimenting...like practicing for the big one.”
Kara inhaled sharply, but said nothing. Instead, she focused on moving her palms, moving her feet, sensing Ace’s next move so she could follow.
“She was my one ally. I thought when you...when you tried to save me, to help me...” He shook his head, his hair tickling her cheek. “Never mind.”
He stayed silent for a few steps, his muscles working against her, with her, practically through her.
“And those fucking Drascatu. When I gave up on my life, they started stalking me. They’re everywhere. I can’t get a moment’s peace. Can you see the top of my right hand?”
She glanced at his hand, noting the thick scar starting between his forefinger and middle finger, and coiled around to his inner arm at the wrist. “Wow! That looks vicious.”
“Yeah. One of those Drascatu did it. They get inside people and use their bodies. They commandeered a guy with a switchblade. The scar spirals around to the inside of my arm and continues to my elbow. It’s what happened when I tried to resist being dragged into their pit of soulless infinity.” He shuddered.
The shiver rippled through her.
“I had to fight for my life. I thought I was going down. The end. No mas. You’d think, given my mood, I’d want to join them. Fuck no. Not them. I kind of thought whatever guiding consciousness there is—God or whatever—he or she was fucking with my resolve to die. Testing me. Helping me decide whether I was serious. So somehow, some way, I managed to escape. But then I thought I’d bleed out. I have a friend who works in the emergency room over at Sisters of Mercy. She was able to get me in, pronto.”
Kara nodded. A prickle of jealousy stirred in her gut. She drop-kicked it from her mind. “How close are we to the bottom? My legs are starting to shake.”
“That’s called Elvis syndrome. Relax into your heels. Or lean into me.”
She did a little of both, encountering his rigid erection. A sharp inhalation sucked into her lungs as thoughts of Jaidon competed with her present situation.
He chuckled. “See what you do to me? You’re lucky I take safety and consent seriously or I’d be fucking you on the side of a wall like Spiderman.” He let out a laugh. “This is torture.”
“You’re lucky our lives are in the balance right now or I’d elbow you, hard.”
He groaned. “Spoil sport.”<
br />
They proceeded in silence for several minutes.
Her awareness remained on his hard length pushing into her butt with rhythmic intensity. Finally, they touched the ground.
He pressed into her, nuzzling the side of her face with his nose. “You’re an excellent climber.”
“Thank you,” she breathed.
“And I suppose I should tell you one last thing before releasing you.”
“What’s that?” she murmured, eyes closed, enjoying his heat.
“Right when I was about to be dragged into hell, I heard a voice saying ‘watch out for the winged bitch’. And now you’ve appeared.”
“And you think I’m a winged bitch?” Her hands propped on her hips.
“I think you’re a lot of things. And I sense death all around you.” He took a long deep sniff of her. “You’re not planning on dying anytime soon, are you?”
Kara stiffened. “I sure hope not. I guess we’d better stick together for the next few days and see what happens.”
She wished she could take back her words. Nothing good could come from yielding to Ace’s seduction—there was too much she didn’t understand. Then again, maybe it would keep him safe until the full moon.
She hoped upon hope that, if her body lying in the hospital at Sisters of Mercy survived and her two selves synchronized…she prayed Jaidon would understand. She could make up some plausible explanation as to why she let herself be seduced by Ace Diamanté, a common criminal…couldn’t she?
Not in a million years.
8
Nighttime began to fall hard, along with a curious, thick fog smothering the city. Kara’s vision, however, was clearer than ever. The benefits of being a Valkyrie. She scanned the street for signs of dark Drascatu or law enforcement.
“How we managed to get down the side of a building in downtown Boston without being spotted or, worse, arrested is beyond me. Maybe this fog served as some kind of assist?”
“Beats me. It sure is odd, though,” Ace said. “Both the not getting caught part, as well as this fucked-up fog.”
“Let’s not assume we’re safe, though. Come with me.” She grabbed his hand and took off, heading toward a near-by alley.