by Deena Remiel
“Swift and permanent, as in dead?” Serena looked horrified, and quickly sought the shelter of his arms once again.
“Sweetheart, the Brethren vanquish evil. That is our main goal. Some of us protect against it, some of us heal those who have suffered from it, and some of us send it back to the depths of Hell, where it came from. This is who we are and what we were created for.”
“I know you spoke of this before, on our trip here. But I hadn’t given it much thought since. It’s a lot to take in Raphael, you must admit. My mind wants to keep on denying the reality that you are an angel and immortal, that there are others like you, and that you fight against evil.” She blew out a resigned breath. “I’d prefer to just think of you as Raphael, some hunky dude that has the hots for me.”
“You think I’m hunky?”
“Yes. Yes, I do,” she remarked, clearly with unabashed conviction. “And I know you have the hots for me. You’ve as much as told me so.”
“You got me there, Miss Smug,” Raphael considered. “Why don’t you keep on thinking of me as just some hunky guy, then?” He bent toward her, raising one hand to sift through her golden mane, and cupped the nape of her neck. “Don’t think about what I am.” He placed his lips a breath away from hers and whispered, “Or what I do.”
Her eyes fluttered closed. “Feel me, Serena. My body melting into you, in tune with you, needing you. Nothing else matters, nothing.” He’d completely lost all sense, all reason, when she’d run into his arms. He needed her as he’d needed no other before. His lips sought home in the sweet spot behind her ears, in the gentle curve of her neck, and on the creamy slopes of her breasts.
It took all the strength she had within her to hang on to him and her own sanity as ardent fires licked across her sensitized skin. She’d only ever felt this way in her dreams—never for real! When Serena could take no more, when she thought her world would shatter into a million joyous pieces, she took his face in her hands, and kissed him, whispering against his lips, “Nothing else matters, Raphael.”
She showed him where home really was.
Chapter Sixteen
Clothes were peeled and strewn about the hallway in passionate haste and desperation. Raphael slammed their bodies against one wall, and she slammed them into another as her hands frantically explored uncharted territory, and her lips sealed them together. They crashed down upon a settee at the end of the hall. Quite clearly, this first time would not be slow, or gentle, or any of those clichéd descriptions of lovers’ first times together.
As one, they spun out of control, taking turns having the upper hand in their passion play. Dominating and submitting in turn.
Serena pinned Raphael’s shoulders to the back of the settee as she straddled his lap and raised herself above him in triumph. This act, while something she’d yearned for, shouted a big “fuck you” to her attackers. She had something to prove. They may have taken away her future, but she still had the goods. I am desirable, and I still have physical needs that can no longer be denied. And she wouldn’t deny them, not anymore. Raphael’s eyes had darkened to near black, and his chest heaved. His skin gleamed with sweat, and he looked hungry for more. He grabbed hold of her hips and forced her to stop what she knew his body ached for.
“Serena, are you protected?”
She panted furiously, her body flushed with unbridled fervor. “Yes, dear God in heaven, yes! Completely and irrefutably. Now, no more talk,” she commanded. She grabbed both hands and, wrapping them around her waist, she impaled herself on a more than willing and ready Raphael.
Her back arched, sending golden tresses cascading down like a waterfall. They teased Raphael’s legs, and his body trembled. Serena’s frenetic pace turned them both into a nuclear reactor. No time for emotion, only explosive combustion. Release came strong and fast. Serena collapsed against Raphael’s chest for a moment, struggling to regain her breath and her dignity. Satisfaction appeased a small part of her, a part she didn’t know, but was this really the way she wanted it to be for their first time—brutal, rough, and vengeful? Shame and guilt engulfed her.
She quickly eased herself off of him. “I need to shower before Kemuel gets back.” With barely a backward glance, she ran to her bathroom.
I’m such a freaking basket case. How cruel could life be sometimes? The sex had been amazing, but all the while, rather than feeling wonderful and excited, she angrily fixated on the fact that even the most mind-blowing sex could never hope to accomplish what she truly wanted for herself. She hadn’t thought her life could or would ever be irreparably scarred by anyone. But one lethal kick too many changed everything, and killed any chance of her ever conceiving or carrying a child.
So now, here she sat, huddled on the floor in a steaming shower after having had the hottest sex with the hottest man alive, the man of her dreams, knowing she could never make beautiful children with him. I’m so ashamed of my childish behavior, that I allowed this to happen in the first place, and that I used Raphael in such a manner. She muffled her anguished sobs with her fists.
***
Raphael sat splayed across the settee. What the hell just happened?He knew this much, his and Serena’s lovemaking was near lethal. Why did she run away right after? Something had triggered her duck-and-run reflex, just like with the cookie and their first kiss, and he had no clue what it could have been. She couldn’t have been feeling regret about what they’d shared. She’d been mostly the aggressor, and damn, but that surprised him. He scratched his head. Women! Even after a thousand years, they were still all the same. And he hadn’t gotten much better at reading them either. They all had split personalities. But nobody ever remembered to tell the guy when they switched!
Despite all this, he had evolved after these many centuries and learned a thing or two. He had learned that when women ran, they really wanted you to follow them. So, he figured that she had really wanted him to go after her and find out what had gone wrong. First, he gathered up the crumbs of clothing carelessly tossed about the hallway. He made a beeline for her bathroom. As he approached, he heard the shower running and something else as well. Something that he guessed Serena thought it would mask.
A keening, soft and low, filled with pain, anger, sorrow, and resentment flooded his ears. As he touched the handle of the bathroom door, his knees buckled from the waves of raw emotion emanating from behind it. He could barely breathe from the blow that it delivered to his gut. Typically, Brethren were able to feel the very emotions of those they were personally connected to and know their cause. Raphael, being handicapped at the moment, could feel her emotions but couldn’t discern their origins. Tears stung his eyes and flooded down his cheeks. What on earth had he done to her? No, not him. That much he could tell. Something else had torn her apart. Maybe the realization of her brother’s death had really kicked in? Maybe she missed her father? There’s only one way to find out.
He opened the door and entered a bathroom that had seemingly transformed into a foggy English morning. As thick as pea soup, yet he could see her vague form through the glass doors of the shower stall. She appeared like a huddled mass curled up on the floor. He walked over, opened the door, and what he saw nearly shattered his heart. Serena crouched in a fetal position, head wrapped protectively in her arms. Raphael sat down beside her, shifted her folded body to his lap, and cradled her like a precious babe. As time went by, she tensed.
He gentled Serena off him just enough to see her weak attempts to hide the tears still falling.
“What a pair we make, huh?” he joked, swiping at his own lingering tears. He reached out to wipe away hers.
“Yeah,” she sniffed solemnly. “What a pair.”
“What is it, Serena? We just made the most incredible love. So what’s wrong?”
“Oh God, Raphael! You call that love we made?” she scoffed, and he winced from the dagger she thrust through his heart. “I’d call it rough, hot and heavy, needful sex. As amazing and incredible as it may have been, there was no
thing loving about it. I can’t make love anymore. That would mean commitment and a promise of a future, neither of which I can give you. I’m so sorry I hurt you. This never should have happened!” Tears sprung anew.
“Oh God, you’re attached, aren’t you? You have someone, and I helped you to be unfaithful. That’s it, isn’t it? Oh my God, Serena, I’m so sor—”
“No, no, it isn’t that at all. I’m as free as the wind,” she uttered callously. “Probably will be for the rest of my life.”
“So what is this all about? Hmm?” he asked, relieved to hear nobody claimed her for his own, but perplexed at her cryptic comments and behavior.
“I’m sorry. I…I’m not ready to tackle this right now with you. I’m having a hard enough time coming to grips with it as it is, let alone saying it aloud to anyone. Please, let it be for now.” Serena detangled herself from his lap, let the hot water rain over her, and left the shower stall to towel off.
Raphael stood, more puzzled than before. He took advantage of the running shower, and while absently cleansing himself, racked his brain for a possible reason for her distress. Why did she make a distinction between sex and making love, clearly branding what they had done together as base and loveless? Why did she build walls around her heart, suggesting that she’d be alone the rest of her life? And why were her words tinged with bitterness and self-loathing? He kept coming up empty. Until she chose to share her secret with him, he’d be at a loss and he couldn’t help her. As he stepped out of the shower, he heard the doorbell ring.
“I’ll get it!” He heard her voice call out.
He hurriedly threw on his pants and T-shirt while running from the bathroom yelling, “Serena, no!”
***
She nonchalantly flicked her damp hair behind her shoulders, having gotten her act together at this point, and looked through the peephole before opening the door. As if it had been electrically charged, Serena flung backward into the foyer’s dividing wall and slid down. She scrambled to flee as Raphael came charging down the hall.
“Serena! What in God’s name…?” He went to reach for her but she kept scrabbling and merely pointed to the door with a shaky hand.
“He’s found me!” she whispered in a frantic hush and ran.
Chapter Seventeen
Raphael looked through the peephole himself and saw a swollen, beaten face. Bull. He could barely see Kemuel beside him, but if Serena had peeked through, she would have seen Bull first as well. Damn! He’d told her Kemuel would bring him back. She must have forgotten. He should have gotten to the door first.
He turned to see where she went, but she had scrambled away somewhere deep in the house, he figured. He opened the door and stepped outside.
“Take him to the garage,” he barked. There was no way he wanted Bull anywhere inside the house, planting seeds of fearful memories for Serena everywhere she looked. As they walk toward the garage, Bull spat blood by Raphael’s feet.
“You ain’t getting nothing from me, assholes. You hear? Nothin’! And there ain’t a damn thing you can do to me that’s gonna break me either! How’s your little bitch of a girlfriend, eh? She gonna be good and dead soon. Pow pow!” His hands mimicked a gun.
Raphael grabbed Kemuel’s sword and cracked him across the face with it so forcefully that Bull’s body did a complete three-sixty. Knocked out cold, Kemuel hoisted his limp body under his viselike arm.
“Nicely done, brother.” Kemuel turned his attention to the limp form under his arm. “I told you to keep you’re fucking mouth shut, asshole! Sorry, Raf. He would have been dead long ago, but I knew you really wanted to see him first.” Kemuel headed off to the garage. Bull had been lucky to get away with just a crack across his head. Raphael had had to use all of his restraint to keep from killing him right there on the spot.
“Yeah, thanks. I’ll be there in a few minutes.” Raphael walked back inside the house, conflicted. Punching Bull’s lights out had been a mere tease. He wanted him good and dead. He wanted to be the one to do it, too. And he knew he would enjoy it. This is so not who Raphael the Savior is, ever. What have I become?
“Serena! Where are you?” Raphael didn’t like playing this dark game of Hide and Seek. “You can come out. Bull’s not here, sweetheart. Serena?” He eventually stumbled upon her in the study with a letter opener gripped in her white-knuckled hand, and her body in a stance clearly ready for a fight. He inched his way toward her as he entered the room.
“Give me the letter opener. Bull’s not in the house. He can’t hurt you. We have him tied up and in the garage. Come on, sweetheart, give it over.”
She wouldn’t at first, but after a while, tentatively reached out her hand to give it to him. She let out her breath and leaned against the enormous oak desk behind her, closing her eyes.
He drew her into his arms and tried to send even the weakest pulse of comfort surging down the threaded connections between them, but nothing came. Curiously, the threaded connection grew stronger by the hour. If only his blasted healing powers could do the same!
“I’m sorry,” she responded quietly. “I knew he would return, but I freaked out when I actually saw his face. I’ll never forget his face, as long as I live. And I’ll never forget what he’s done to me.” A silent fury simmered in Raphael’s belly.
“You don’t have to explain yourself. God knows, you have every right to feel and act the way you do. Like Emma said, it’s going to take time to find yourself again.”
“Yeah well, I’m not used to that,” she grumbled. “In the past I didn’t have time to feel. I had to pick myself up and move on or the family suffered. This is all new territory for me. It’s like I have too much time to think and be angry, and it’s no good for me. I feel like I’ve lost all control of my emotions.” She peered up at Raphael. “I’m not stable, Raphael. The sex, the anger and rage, the running. I don’t know who I am anymore. What I’m sure of is that this is not me.”
“You have unresolved issues with your attackers and what they did to you. When you do resolve them, you’ll be fast on your way to being yourself again. I promise. Monica Rainchild is coming today. She’ll help you through this.”
“Unresolved issues. You bet your sweet ass I’ve got unresolved issues. Thank goodness she’s coming. She’ll be a huge help.” Serena looked at the clock on the wall. “You know, it’s nearly lunchtime. Do you think you could make us some lunch while I go clean up in the bedroom and bath?”
“Sure thing.” He brushed a kiss across her forehead. “Soup and sandwiches sound good to you?”
“Sounds perfect.” She smiled sweetly.
***
They walked arm in arm as far as the kitchen, where the house branched off to the sleeping wing. Serena dropped the sweet smile act as soon as Raphael turned into the kitchen. As she continued down the hall, the simmering fury heated to its boiling point. Knowing Bull lingered so close sent her mind spinning off in dangerous directions, and she acted on those dark, malevolent impulses. After tidying up the bedroom quickly, she stopped by the study. She had a mission and nothing left to lose.
“Going out for some fresh air!” she called out to Raphael in as wholesome a voice as she could feign. “I’ll be right back!” She didn’t wait for a response.
Opportunity had knocked on her door, literally, and now she would take advantage of it. She strolled over to the garage and opened the door without hesitation. “Hello, Kemuel.” She batted her eyes. “How is our guest doing?”
“Hey, Serena. He’s a royal pain in the ass, and if he keeps it up much longer, I’m gonna have to get tough on him. You really shouldn’t be here, though. You don’t need to see this. Does Raphael know you’re here?”
“He knows I went out,” she evaded.
“Come to visit me, lover?” Bull taunted. She ignored him. Kemuel lifted his arm, fist ready to inflict a punishing blow, but she stayed his hand.
“Kemuel, I’d like to talk to Bull, alone.”
“No way, lady. Are you nut
s?”
“Is he secured? Can he harm me physically in his present state?” she argued logically.
“Well, no. He’s got Brethren shackles on him, so no, he can’t do shit.”
“So the only thing he can do is talk, and his words can’t harm me. That’s all I want to do is talk. We have some loose ends to tie up. Please?” She counted on his good sense being no match for her mesmerizing eyes.
“I’ll be right outside the door. Five minutes, Serena. Whatever you have to say, you got five minutes.”
“Thank you. I appreciate your flexibility.”
“Yeah, well, I can’t see Raphael being too happy about this, but it’s your game. And as for you….” He turned to Bull and gave him a punch across his face before walking out of the garage. Bull cursed and gave a sinister, defiant chuckle.
“So you finally realized you couldn’t live without me, bitch?” Bull spat more blood on the ground. “You missed my body lying on top of you, whore? Dr. Chappo got it all wrong. He don’t know a goddess from a Jezebel. Aren’t you the least bit curious why I want you dead, Jezebel?”
“Shut up,” Serena ordered coldly and in a voice unfamiliar even to herself. She brandished the letter opener hidden in her shorts pocket, walked up to Bull, and placed the point of it right on his manhood. He sat up a little taller. She looked him straight in the eyes and shivered to see in them what she knew to be pure evil.
“You see, there you go, teasing me with rough foreplay. And I bet you’re not gonna follow through. Just like my mother, a Jezebel. You ain’t no goddess.”