“Legion…” I don’t know what I can say to ensure him that this is all I’ve wanted for so, so long. Even when I didn’t know him. Even when I didn’t think there was anyone out there in this vast, lonely universe for me.
He shushes me by brushing his thumb over my bottom lip. “I wish I didn’t have to do this.”
When he brings that thumb to caress his own lips, I plummet into a sea of darkness, speckled with flecks of silver stardust.
I jerk awake under a blanket of warm sunshine streaming through the heavy, gilt curtains. Panic fills my lungs, and I stifle a yelp when I realize two major things:
One: I’m nearly naked, with only my bra and panties on.
Two: Legion is sleeping soundly beside me.
My body feels…different. Not bad—not at all—but different. There’s a tenderness below, the kind that echoes with the remnants of a deep throb. I squeeze my thighs together, igniting a manufactured memory of wetness and warmth, and sigh, reveling in a whisper of phantom pleasure. I know we didn’t sleep together—that much is evident. The last thing I remember is the Dark king casting a spell to slow the progression of the Calling then…nothing. Still, I don’t believe Legion would rape me in my sleep, not when he’s had more than enough space and opportunity to do so in my captivity. And considering that he’s celibate, why jeopardize his vows for a lost cause with skewed morals and a dark destiny? He could have his pick of any female in the world—supernatural or no. I’m nothing. Not compared to everything I’ve been made aware of in the past week.
I swallow down a knot of illogical sorrow, and roll over to face his sleeping form. His face seems so peaceful in slumber. Vulnerable, calm. So different from his usual scowl. Even with his itchy disposition and aloofness, he’d be the kind of guy I could fall for. Like calls to like, and maybe my demons could find solace in those lost souls that seem to swirl in the depth of his eyes. But that would never happen, even if I wasn’t doomed. Even if I was just a regular girl and he was just a regular guy. I’m a little too lost at this point to ever be found. Even by him.
Without thinking about the consequences, without understanding my motives behind them, I reach out to stroke his jaw. It feels as strong and hard under my fingertips as it looks, and the short scruff that shades his face from cheek to chin is as soft as down. I fleetingly imagine what the hair would feel like brushing my face, my breasts, my inner thighs. Then I shake them from my skull completely. My thoughts are dangerous. Even the ones that don’t inflict harm.
With the need to relieve my bladder, I pad to bathroom on legs made of rubber. My limbs feel languid as if they’d been stretched taut. The effects of the magic, I tell myself. That’s the only explanation. A hot shower is indeed in order, and after yesterday, I may use every drop of hot water in this entire hotel.
With our plans to head back to Chicago today, I dress in a pair of jeans, a flannel and my white Chucks. Legion is still sleeping, so I take the liberty of ordering breakfast from room service. Oddly enough, there’s a knock at the door a mere ten minutes later. I don’t know if magic has anything to do with the prompt service, but I go to the door—
I’m two yards away from the entrance of the suite when Legion’s giant form is looms over me, blocking me from the door.
“What the…”
“What do you think you’re doing?” His voice is gruff from sleep and fury, and his eyes are as wild as his tousled hair.
“Opening the door for room service.”
My gaze widens when he takes a menacing step toward me. Gone is the man who just slept peacefully beside me. “That isn’t room service, Eden.”
I look at the door as if I have X-ray vision. “Then who is it?”
Without a word, he stalks over and yanks open the carved wood door, revealing Phenex and Toyol, both dressed in black leather. Fighting gear. They’d traded the garb for tailored shirts and slacks since we arrived. This must be serious.
“News from Chicago,” Toyol says by way of greeting, entering the room with Phenex on his trail. “There’s been some heavy angel activity.”
“Angel activity?” I frown. “What would angels be doing in Chicago?”
He nods. “We need to get back asap. Cain says they’re keeping an eye on it, but if things turn aggressive…”
“Any indication who? And what they’re seeking?” Legion asks, any signs of wariness gone.
“No, but they think we could be dealing with the Seraph.”
The Seraph? According to bits and pieces of history lessons from Legion and Phenex, the Seraph were the most powerful, most deadly of all the angels. Phenex was not one before he fell. But Legion had mentioned the word more than once when referring to his past. If he was one of the seraphim… then he was once an archangel.
My mind is saying holy shit, but it just feels wrong. Sacrilegious.
A deep scowl carves itself into Legion’s face as he considers Toyol’s words. Even as he stands there, arms crossed over his chest, I can see the ominous power vibrating his frame. “Pack up. We leave in ten minutes.”
“What of the Dark king?” Phenex asks. “We have unfinished business pertaining to the deal you made.”
“Later. We need to get home.”
His declaration is final, and the two turn and leave without further question, leaving me alone to face a demon with uncontained rage brewing in his eyes.
“Be ready,” is all he commands before turning around to stride to the bedroom.
No mention of last night. Not that I would expect one. Not that anything could have happened.
I take a deep breath, releasing the uncertainty, and follow him to the bedroom to pack my things.
The ride back to Chicago seems like racing towards an impending death.
I’m glad to get back…home?…but I can’t deny that I enjoyed living it up at The Broadmoor in Colorado Springs. The room service, the lavish digs, the break from Cain’s constant scowls. Plus, I liked meeting people that sorta knew who I was. I didn’t have to hide that I was different. I didn’t have to pretend that I was normal for fear of being deemed some troubled weirdo. Gabriella didn’t balk at my appearance or try to give me some backhanded compliment by calling my look “edgy.” Shit, she probably has more ink than I do. And for a queen—the queen of the Dark—I think that’s pretty fucking awesome.
I fidget in my seat, trying to get comfortable after riding for the past three hours. While I think Legion and I had fun while listening to my (amazing) playlists on the way to Colorado, going back to that easiness just doesn’t seem right. Not with so much anxiety over the Seraph showing up in our city. Not with his aggravation so palpable that it chokes me. Not with my insides still pulsing to a foreign, riotous drumbeat.
“You did well these past few days,” he says suddenly, offering seven of the ten words he’s spoken to me since we started our journey home.
“Did I?”
“You did. You handled yourself with the queen when I was left incapacitated and couldn’t protect you. You didn’t back down from the king. I think they appreciated your courage. Admired it, even. I wouldn’t be surprised to find that that’s why they agreed to help us.”
“For an extremely steep price. I honestly don’t think it was worth it, either.”
“It’s not your price to pay. I made a vow to you, and I intend to keep it.”
I turn in my seat, staring daggers at the side of his head. “Not my price to pay? L, you’re choosing to die for me. Don’t you think I should have a say in it? Considering that I wanted to make that choice, and you shot me down?”
“I’m not just dying for you, Eden. I’m dying for a cause much greater than any of us. I’m dying for mankind. I’m choosing to trade my life so that you, and people like you, may have a chance to actually have one for a change.” One hand on the steering wheel, he scrubs a hand behind his head. “I’ve roamed this earth for longer than your eldest ancestors have been alive. If this is what will send me back to Hell, I can’t imagine a m
ore noble cause.”
“Fuck nobility.” The words are spit from my lips before I even have a chance to stop them.
“What?”
“You heard me. You’re going to give up for one human life? One selfish, insecure girl who can’t control her emotions? That’s disappointing. I thought you were stronger than that—smarter than that. How stupid would it be for you to waste all you’ve done for your cause, all you’ve done for the Se7en, for someone who twists souls for the fuck of it. I’m not worth it, L. You know that, I know that, and so does everyone else. Yet, it’s ok for you to play martyr, not me. Right? That’s bullshit.”
His voice is level, calm, despite my brash tirade. “Your life isn’t bullshit. Not to me.”
“Well, you’d be the first,” I reply flippantly. “If you knew what I’ve done, the pain I’ve caused, you’d think otherwise.”
“We’re all sinners, Eden. Some of us just sin differently than others.”
I let his words go unchecked and resort to staring out the window, as flat, brown earth and deadened grass whiz by—such a contrast to the rich emerald greens of the Broadmoor grounds. Gray clouds hang low above us, threatening the frostbitten, barren land with icy sustenance. The car’s silence is deafening, so I flick on the stereo system and scroll down to a playlist labeled, “Dark Days.” It’s the one I listen to when I’m feeling particularly emo.
“Why did you block her number?”
I don’t need to ask him whom he’s talking about. Sister. Just the name echoing in my skull clouds my eyes with unwanted emotion.
“She would have never let go. She would have never given up on me. I would have had to lie to her every day, and shit…I’m so tired of lying. To her. To myself. She would have felt responsible for me, as if she did something wrong, and I can’t handle her guilt. My guilt is one thing, but hers…”
“You love her.”
I glance at him, wondering if he can hear my heart breaking. “Yes.”
“I wouldn’t have faulted you, you know…if you spoke with her.”
I shake my head. “It would have given her false hope.”
“There’s nothing false about hope, Eden,” he says, his voice trembling with a nostalgic timbre, as if he once had felt, tasted, and held hope in his palms. “It can be blind—foolish, even—but it’s never false. Not if you truly feel it in your heart.”
“And your heart?” I ask, remembering the cold void in his chest when my cheek lay against it under the shroud of night.
“Sometimes it feels too much. Other times it feels nothing at all.”
His words are empty, a ghost that sweeps through the small space between us. It taunts me, daring me to challenge it with my own human fragility. I don’t believe that he is devoid of feeling, considering all that he has made me feel in the span of mere days. But the trivial, overly sensitive side of me worries that those feelings may have nothing to do with me. And that…hurts.
A quiet settles within the car, and I fill it with my own torturous thoughts. What has become of us? I don’t hate him. I don’t particularly like him either. He’s broody, reticent, and stubborn as hell. And if I’m really being honest, downright frightening. But there’s also a side of him that’s compassionate and—dare I say—kind. And he’s fiercely protective and loyal. All those times when I was broken and vulnerable, he could have taken advantage. But no. He’s been maddeningly, annoyingly virtuous.
To my relief, we turn into a gas station to fill up. I’ve had to use the restroom for miles, but I couldn’t stand for my mortal needs to be yet another burden.
“Where are you going?” Legion questions when I hop out the car behind him.
“Bathroom.”
He opens his mouth to protest, but I wave him off. “It’s either going to happen in there or on your leather seats. Your choice.” When he closes his mouth, I assure him with, “I’ll be quick. Promise.”
Keeping my word, I hurriedly relieve myself and make my way back into the mini mart, deciding to grab a couple of drinks and snacks for the road. I spot the Arizona Ice Tea and smile. Maybe this’ll smooth things over. I can’t stand for us to spend the next thirteen and a half hours in silence. I’d rather him bitch and moan at me than have to ride beside him, pretending not to notice every time those silver eyes shift to me behind his dark shades.
I spy Legion’s broad back, dressed in a worn leather jacket, at the front of the store. He must’ve come in to pay while I was in the bathroom, probably just itching to give me the side eye for leaving his sight. Tough. He can’t play bodyguard and babysitter forever.
“Well, if you’re done being Mr. Doom-and-Gloom,” I tease, coming down the potato chip aisle, “I have a little surprise for—”
“Eden, don’t move.”
The dark tone of his voice stops me in my tracks. That’s when I notice his hands raised at his sides and the eerie quiet of the mini mart. I look to my left to see a man with a gun trained on Legion’s head. To the right, there’s another man, also holding a rifle as long as my arm.
Ice tea and soda slips from my fingertips, spraying sickly sweet liquid at my feet.
“The girl comes with us,” the man to my right says. “So much as flinch, and my associate will splatter your insides all over the lotto tickets.”
Demons? No. Shit—humans.
“I can’t let you do that,” Legion retorts, his voice deadly calm.
“Oh yeah?” the asshole with the assault rifle says. He’s nearly as big as Legion—a trained fighter. I can’t see much of his face but a shock of blonde hair peeks out from underneath a black skull cap. “Well, considering that I have guns trained on your associates outside, as well as surrounding this building, it’d be wise of you to reevaluate your priorities. Your job is done, demon. She’s our concern now.”
“See, that’s where you’re mistaken, human,” Legion spits. “If she had been your concern from the beginning, we wouldn’t have had to step in to protect her. So…if you’d like to see another day of your miserable, pathetic existence, you’ll lower those guns, and walk the fuck the away.”
The man barks out a laugh, maybe from fear, or hysteria, or both. “Immortality has made you arrogant. Let’s see how cocky you’ll be when I send you back to your maker with a hole in your head.”
There’s a shout in the distance, from outside, and then…all Hell breaks loose.
With one swift movement, faster than any of us can see, Legion is behind the gunman on his left, his hand pressed on his trigger finger. With his human shield, he trains the weapon of the guy with the rifle as he dives and rolls behind the hot dog counter. Legion lets off at least half a dozen rounds before whirling the gunman around and snapping his neck like a twig with a sickening crack.
“Come on!” he roars, plunging for me, as the guy with the rifle returns fire.
It’s all too familiar. All too close to that scene just a little over a week ago. But this time, I won’t scream. I won’t cry. I won’t vomit from fright.
Two more human gunmen enter the store, spraying wild bullets in our direction. Legion swiftly whirls me behind him, shielding my body with his as he unsheathes twin 9 mills from behind his back and squeezes off round after round with only an Icee machine as cover. He hits them both in the head with precise aim. More file in, armed to the teeth. We’re outnumbered…by a lot. And after putting down five more, we hear the click-click-click that seals our fate. We’re out of ammo.
“Stay behind me,” he whispers harshly, holding me at his back. We’re crouched down, half crawling our way through broken glass and shell casings. My knees and hands are bleeding, but I don’t feel the pain. Cocaine-like adrenaline races through my veins, stilling all urges to scream or cry. We have to get out of here, and the prospect of doing that alive is looking pretty grim.
We round a corner and nearly collide with a human strapped with what looks like a machine gun. Legion knocks his arm to one side before he can squeeze the trigger, and pummels his face with a fist
, causing blood to spray from his nose. It happens in a split second, but it’s enough time for him to swipe the man’s gun and put a few bullets in his friend just a few feet away. Without even pausing to look, he turns and aims right over my shoulder, popping six more into the chest of an approaching assailant without even blinking.
He moves with the quickness of a viper and the stealth of a panther. If I didn’t know any better, I would think he’s part animal. A man this tall and this broad should not be as agile and graceful as he, but he’s not a man. Not even a little bit.
Our path littered with dead bodies, Legion scoops me into his arms and runs out of the mini mart. There are more corpses out front, thanks to Phenex and Toyol. It’s a mystery how no bullets hit the gas pumps and blew us all to bits.
“The Alliance,” Toyol shouts at our approach. His Katanas gleam with bright red blood, dripping from the blades like warm strawberry syrup.
“More will be on their way,” Phenex adds. He looks as poised and elegant as he always does. I can’t imagine him in combat.
“Let’s get the fuck outta here,” Legion barks, setting me down to toss me into the car.
“Is she hurt?” Phenex questions, spying the blood on my hands and legs.
“I’m fine,” I assure him. The cuts are superficial. I can clean up with just a First Aid kit. Plus, most of the blood isn’t even mine.
Legion jumps in the driver’s seat, and speeds off, loose gravel kicking up behind us. He doesn’t even look at me until we’re miles away.
“Are you okay?” That voice again…tinged with dread and ice.
Born Sinner (Se7en Sinners #1) Page 22