The demon before me stumbles, and for reasons I can’t even begin to understand, I move to help him. I only touch his arm for a moment when he jerks away from me.
“Touch me again and I’ll rip out your throat,” he threatens. “Even like this, you’re no match for me, made angel.”
His arrogance makes me want to growl, but I don’t. He can talk big all he wants, but it doesn’t change the truth.
“You should get those wounds treated,” I say, holding back my annoyance. “Maybe they’ll heal then. I can show you to medical.”
“Yeah, sure. Can’t have me dying on you guys yet, right?” he mutters.
Arsen’s pace is painstakingly slow, but I hold my tongue as I let him lead the way into the base. Once we’re inside, I wordlessly take the lead. I periodically check behind me to make sure he’s still following as I lead him to medical. Before we get a chance to slip into the room, Divya catches sight of us from down the hall. She picks up her pace and meets up with us.
She gives Arsen a quick once over, and then she opens the door for us. “I’ll take care of his wounds,” she volunteers.
“I can do it myself,” Arsen snarls.
“You’re in no condition to be doing something like that,” she insists.
Arsen tries to growl, but he ends up wincing in pain instead. I have the urge to force him inside of medical, but he finally starts moving again on his own, so I don’t. The place is pretty empty at the moment. Since we haven’t been on many hunts recently, no one’s been here. We do get a few looks from the medical staff though, which isn’t very large, maybe five people in total. All hunters have some medical training, but the medical staff itself doesn’t go out on missions. They watch Divya lead Arsen to one of the cots lined up in the room. Divya puts the privacy curtains up, hiding us from the staff’s questioning looks.
“Sit,” Divya instructs as she looks at Arsen pointedly.
I’m surprised with the way she’s handling him. She’s talking to him like it’s no big deal, like he’s not a demon at all. She’s almost treating him the same way she treats her fellow hunters. However, there is an underlying impatience she has with Arsen that she never has when she’s working with other hunters. I suppose that’s the difference.
I glance at Arsen when he hasn’t sat down. Divya pushes one of the curtains aside and exits. Arsen and I stand waiting in an awkward silence until she returns. When Divya comes back, she has a cart full of things like disinfectant, gauze, pills, needles, and thread.
“You need to take off your coat and shirt,” she says.
Arsen still doesn’t move.
“Do you need help?” She’s posturing him like he’s a child.
I’m trying to read the expression on Arsen’s face, but there’s nothing there for me to read. He stares at Divya for a moment before giving in. I notice his hands shake as he unzips his coat, and then I see burns on his hands too. Seriously, what happened to him?
He drops his coat on the floor, and I pick it up so it won’t be in the way. Then he goes for his bloodstained shirt. As soon as the material is lifted just above his chest I wince and Divya gasps. Arsen throws the shirt onto the floor, allowing us a clear view of the bloody wound on his chest. It’s in a strange state. It looks fresh, but it doesn’t appear to be bleeding profusely anymore. It looks like someone rammed a steel bar into his chest or something—multiple times. There are various puncture wounds mostly pocking the left side of his chest.
Divya quickly collects herself and asks, “Do you know if you have any debris stuck in your wounds?”
“There’s nothing stuck in there,” he says. “It just won’t heal.”
“Any other wounds I should be worried about besides what I can see right here?” she asks.
“No, but if you want to make sure, I can take off my pants too.”
I have to wonder if he said that because he’s trying to be funny. It’s hard to tell since I can’t detect a hint of sarcasm in his voice.
Divya comes forward and inspects his largest wound, the one on his chest, first.
“Well,” she says after inspecting the wound from the front and the back, “it appears your wound has either healed some on its own or it’s not as deep as I thought, because it doesn’t pierce all the way through and into your lung. That means your heart is safe. Stitches would be a good idea though since you appear to be healing so slowly.”
She gently touches his burned neck. He hisses in response, shying away from her.
“I’ll find something to soothe your burns,” she says. “Maybe it’ll help you heal faster.” She glances at some painkillers she brought over. “Do painkillers do anything for you?”
Arsen shrugs. “Don’t know. Never had to take any before.”
Divya picks out some pretty hard-core painkillers and hands them to Arsen. He takes them and swallows immediately. Things go quietly after that. Arsen finally sits down on the cot, and Divya starts cleaning him up. Except for when she does something that hurts, Arsen doesn’t protest and lets her work. I’m amazed at how hard Divya is working for a creature like him. Does she feel compassion for him? Why else would she be doing this for him? I wonder what I would’ve done if she hadn’t showed up.
I leave since I’m only in the way by this point. Then I go back to thinking. Arsen wouldn’t tell me how this happened to him. I didn’t mention the oracle to get a rise out of him. A part of me really suspects the oracle. But why? Angels don’t torture. Even the bloodletting in the Dregs, isn’t about torture. It’s a necessity, something that must be done to keep demons under control. What Arsen endured, and what he is enduring, is that necessary? What good did it do?
I hope the confidant gets here soon. The oracle said he’d send her back in his place. Perhaps she will be able to shed some light on what happened here.
I STAYED UP, hoping the confidant would show. It’s really late now though, and I’m finally about ready to call it quits and go to bed. I’m not going to get much sleep at this rate, but some sleep is better than none. At least, that’s what I tell myself.
A bright energy begins to envelope the base, catching my attention. Maybe the confidant has returned.
I stand up in time for Confidant Valor to walk through the front door. I let out a sigh when I see her. She seems perfectly normal. She’s standing with that same indomitable presence I’m used to. She’s garbed in her silver armor, and she looks like she’s ready to pick up where she left off.
“Rynne,” she remarks. “Did you stay up to greet me?” She smiles. “I’m flattered, but it’s rather late. Don’t you need some sleep?”
“Welcome back,” I say. “I’m too wound up to sleep right now, honestly.”
“Wound up?”
“A lot has happened. I’m sure the oracle told you.”
She nods her head slowly. “Cassius did talk to me, but now I would like to hear what you have to say.”
“There isn’t much,” I say quietly. “You weren’t gone that long. I was everywhere the oracle was, so my report wouldn’t be any different from his.”
She raises an eyebrow. “Are you sure about that?”
I stare at the floor. “Well, I guess… Did the oracle tell you about Arsen?” I ask.
“What do you mean?”
“He arrived at the base all burned and bloody. He came back some time after the oracle left for Ilenima.”
“Is that right?”
I keep my eyes trained on the floor as I continue, “The oracle came back. Tasia was a mess, so he did something to her white diamond to calm her down. She asked him where Arsen was, and he just said that Arsen would be along. He didn’t say anything about Arsen coming back in the state he did. Honestly, he didn’t say anything other than he told Tasia she has to command Arsen every step of the way. He was in a hurry to get back to Ilenima.” I finally look up at Confidant Valor, meeting the vast expanse of dark blue waters in her eyes. “I was hoping he told you something more. I don’t understand what’s going on.
”
The confidant glances around the lobby. “What makes you think anything is going on other than the prophecy?” she asks.
“The details are what I’m confused about,” I say. “Arsen was able to disobey Tasia when we went to hunt down a demon named Uden, and then the oracle told us all to go back to the base when we failed to complete our mission while he stayed behind with Arsen.”
“You think Cassius is the one who did this to Arsen,” she concludes.
I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think that was the case, but I also know it’s completely out of place for me to say something like that. It’s bad enough I think it. Cassius is the oracle. He is the one closest to God.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“There’s no need to apologize, Rynne. Arsen doesn’t have many fans, but Cassius probably hates him most of all.”
Hate. Angels aren’t supposed to hate.
“I know what you’re thinking, Rynne,” she says softly. “Cassius would deny that it is so, but he hates Arsen. I know he does.” She searches my eyes. “How far do you want to go?”
“I don’t know what you mean,” I state.
“I wonder if you know why Cassius hates Arsen so much. I wonder if you want to know.”
“I don’t know about hate, but I know that Arsen killed the previous confidant.”
“That is correct. Confidant Leo.” She brushes a few strands of her strawberry blond hair out of her face, and then she lets out a little puff of air through her full lips. “Aside from his mother, Leo is the only one Cassius has ever loved. No, even that isn’t true. Leo is the only one Cassius has ever loved. To this day it kills him to be separated from Leo.”
“How can you say that?” I ask. “He’s the oracle. He has a love for all things deserving of love. I’ve never heard of him being cruel. I’ve never heard of him hating. It’s not the angel way. It’s not God’s way.”
“You know Cassius is only the second oracle we’ve ever known, don’t you?”
I nod.
“Shirene was the first oracle. She was wise, and she brought order to Ilenima as she was chosen by God to do. Shirene announced that all following oracles would be of the same bloodline. She said that was God’s will. Cassius being her only heir obviously became the next in line to take up the title and duty of oracle. When his mother died, he took her place.”
“Right. I know all of that,” I say.
The confidant continues, “Cassius is very different from his mother. Shirene was never one for showing much in the way of emotion. Angels are supposed to love. They’re supposed to be compassionate, and she was, but she never loved on a personal level. She was order, and she was law. Cassius, on the other hand, was always driven by emotion. You might say I’m wrong, and most probably would, but I’ve known him since he and I were children. He always did what his mother expected of him, but there were often times when he would make an emotional decision rather than a rational decision.
“I am more like Shirene. I see what needs to be done, and I do it. Cassius always drove me crazy because of his emotional instability. He was never good at commanding. He was never good at decision-making. He and I never got along for that reason among many others. We still don’t. However, we’ve learned how to deal with each other. And in a strange way, our differences do make us stronger.”
Is she saying this emotional instability would cause him to harm Arsen like that?
Confidant Valor sighs. “Rynne, do you think the oracle can be swayed by darkness?”
“I know angels can. There have been angels that have fallen, but if he’s the oracle, ordained by God, I don’t see how that’s possible in his case,” I reply with the only correct answer to that question.
My palms feel sweaty. This is making me nervous. Why is the confidant talking like this so openly? More importantly, why is she talking about this with me?
She looks at me seriously and says, “Then do you really think the oracle, hand-picked by God, could do something so merciless to a creature that couldn’t even fight back?”
I don’t answer.
She smiles. “I wonder.”
THE PAIN OF MY heart getting ripped out of my chest flashes through my body. I’m trembling, lost in a pain that won’t end. I can’t see anything.
I sit up abruptly, my chest heaving as I open my eyes. Sweat drenches my body, I’ve got stitches in my chest and back, and patches all over. Where am I?
I look around and see a couple humans glance at me through half open curtains. I’m sitting on a cot in what looks like some kind of hospital. Hunter base. Right. I’m in medical.
I place my hand on my forehead and brush my hair back along with the sweat on my brow. My body doesn’t seem to be hurting anymore. So that’s something. I look down and inspect my wounds. I pull the stitches out of my skin, and my skin smooths over perfectly. Seems I’m healing normally again, too. That’s more like it.
All the fussing that human did over me was unnecessary, but she did it anyway. I shake my head.
I gingerly touch the front and back of my neck. No pain. The skin of my palms is completely healed and smooth too. No trace of what Cassius did to me is visible anymore.
Guess all I needed was a good night’s sleep.
A twinge of pain shoots through my chest as my mind relives Cassius ripping out my heart. I crack my neck instead of grabbing at my chest like I want to. As fast as the sensation comes on, it disappears.
Swinging my legs off the cot, I get ready to stand when my favorite made angel walks in. He’s coming right for me. I automatically bare my teeth. What is he doing here?
“You’re awake,” he says as he opens the curtains all the way. “And it looks like your wounds healed.” He glances at the stitches and bandages I threw to the side.
I growl at him. Why is he talking to me? He should know I want nothing more than to bleed him out. I would have killed him before if it wasn’t for Tasia. He would’ve died that night.
“You need a shower,” the angel remarks.
“Are you saying I stink?” I ask sarcastically, feeling more like myself as I say the words. I already know I do. It’s been a rough couple of days. A shower would be nice.
“I’ll show you to the showers,” he says, ignoring me.
“You’re too kind,” I sneer.
I hop off the cot and onto my feet, feeling as good as new. I don’t really feel like following the angel, but what else am I going to do? My options these days are pretty limited.
I follow the angel in silence down one of the base’s many halls where I hear running water. Once at the entrance, I see the showers are split into two separate rooms. The right side for women and the left for men, according to the signs.
I catch a familiar sweet scent in the air, like honey. I can still smell it clearly even though she just took a shower. My beast is addicted to that smell.
Tasia.
Sure enough, she comes out of the women’s washroom with damp hair and wearing fresh clothes. She pauses when she sees me and her angel. She goes to her angel and gives him a big hug and a light peck on the lips.
“Good morning,” she says.
The way she’s looking into his eyes with complete adoration makes my blood boil. My beast is growling in my chest so fiercely that the sound almost escapes my lips. Almost.
Once Tasia pries herself off of her angel, she looks me up and down with one quick sweep of her eyes.
“You look like crap,” she says.
I smirk. “Thanks.”
She narrows her eye at me and frowns. “What are you doing with him, Rynne?” she asks.
“As you pointed out, he’s in need of a shower,” the angel informs.
Tasia gives me a sidelong glance. Then she glares at me. “Don’t ever try anything like what you did back in New Jersey ever again,” she threatens. “And don’t lay a finger on Rynne.” She storms up to me and holds her finger under my chin. I find the gesture amu
sing, but I don’t say or do anything as she storms past me.
I watch her go without protest or comment. My beast whines inside of me as I gaze at her back. I watch her until there is nothing left to watch. Her hate for me is unbearable.
When I finally turn my attention back to the washroom in front of me, I see the angel left me standing at the entrance by myself. I didn’t even notice his presence shrink away. Tasia makes me hopeless in more way than one.
Well, the angel did what he said he was going to do. He led me to the showers. Guess I’ll take advantage of this hospitality then. I silence my beast as I walk into the men’s showers. They’re open, no individual stalls. Most of them are being used. Guess this is a popular time to use the showers. The showerhead next to the made angel is available. Just my damn luck. I strip off my pants and go to the showerhead beside his. I think he might protest, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t seem to care at all that I’m standing beside him. Naked. He doesn’t even bother to look at me. I can’t figure this angel out. What does Tasia see in him?
I let my eyes linger on every inch of his naked body. He’s good-looking to be sure. I already knew he has a handsome face, though it’s not something I’ve wanted to admit. I’ve never seen him with any facial hair, so it’s easy to see the defined lines of his jaw and chin. His lips are perfect, full but not too full. The kind of lips I like to kiss. He’s rather lean, but he’s toned. It’s a unique build compared to his polar bear. It’s like the human side of him doesn’t fit the animal much at all. But there must be something that links him to that animal, or else it wouldn’t have manifested when he was given angel blood. If the situation wasn’t what it is, and if he were still human, I’d want to try him out myself. My beast growls because that realization doesn’t make us feel any better. I may find him attractive, but the one my beast wants more than anything is Tasia. It’s not simple attraction with her.
The angel finally looks my way. He looks at me head to toe, similar to what I’m doing—except he does it quickly.
I smirk. “I know I’m hot, but don’t you have a girlfriend?” I say.
The Pull of Destiny (Undying Love, Book 2) Page 26