by Mia Knight
The restlessness she had been trying to ignore reared its ugly head. She wanted to race, to tear something apart with her bare hands. Needs tumbled around in her chest and whispered dark temptations in her ear.
She stopped at a light. She opened her mouth to scream, to let her emotions go, but nothing emerged. The scream was internal and full of a sorrow so deep that if she released it, she would never recover. Loneliness and misery flooded her. The thought of going back to his house was unbearable.
Angel’s words drifted through her mind. I recognize another restless soul when I see one.
The urge to throw herself into the deep end, to clash with someone who was as primitive and raw as she was drummed through her. If anyone could match her dark recklessness, it was Angel Roman. One wild, dark soul recognized another.
Even as her conscience told her this was a bad idea, she slammed her foot on the gas. She and Marcus were just friends. He made that abundantly clear. It was time to move on.
She pulled up to Angel’s property and pressed the buzzer at the gate. There were at least ten cars in the front drive. Mickey pulled up behind her and flashed his lights. She was impressed he’d been able to keep up. The video monitor lit up, and Eli Stark stared at her with his cop gaze.
“What are you doing here?” Eli asked brusquely.
“I’m looking for Angel.”
“How’d you know where he lives?”
“He brought me here before.”
Eli stared at her for a long minute. She wasn’t in the mood to wait around.
“Is he here or not?” she snapped.
The video cut out, and a moment later, the gate began to swing open.
“Hallelujah,” she said and pulled up beside the fountain.
Mickey pulled up behind her and was at her door before she could close it. He had his gun out and reached for her arm but stopped when she gave him that look.
“What are you doing?” he demanded.
Eli opened the front door, and Mickey cursed.
“Carmen,” he said in a low voice, but she ignored him.
She walked toward the front door and would have sailed past Eli, but he pulled her to a stop.
“How well do you know Angel?” Eli asked.
“What do you mean?”
“How. Well,” he bit out.
She scowled. “Better than most. Why?”
Eli released her. “I hope you know what to do.”
She was too deep in her own drama to decipher his meaning. The mansion was no less breathtaking at night. The grand chandeliers gave off a soft, welcoming glow. She glanced at herself in a mirror in the grand entryway and was relieved to see that her inner turmoil didn’t show on her face.
She followed Eli between the double curving staircases to the massive living area, which was filled with men. Something was wrong with the massive backlit waterfall, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. She registered the silence and a small army of silent guards before she spotted a naked man pinned to the wall by two swords through his abdomen. His body was coated with blood, which trickled across the floor to the pool, which explained the salmon-colored waterfall. She thought he was dead until a dagger embedded into his pelvis. He screamed and jerked against the swords. There was the nauseating sound of wet flesh tearing as he tried to get free.
Angel stood about ten feet away holding eight knives, each about a foot long. He was back to being badass James Dean in black jeans and T-shirt. He shook his hand, which was dripping red. His gaze was on Eli, and he didn’t look happy.
“Didn’t the police academy teach you how to guard a door?” Angel asked.
“I thought you’d be happy to see this visitor,” Eli said.
She spotted five bodies floating in the pool. A quick glance around the room told her that Angel had been at this for a while. There were spectacular red splatters around the room that she was sure hadn’t been done by an artist. What the hell was going on?
“You think she’s going to stop me? I’ve been waiting for this,” Angel said with relish.
To punctuate his point, he tossed another dagger without looking at his target. The dagger landed in the man’s shoulder. His piercing cry made the hairs on the nape of her hair rise.
“I’m sorry, Carmen.” Angel spread his arms wide. “As you can see, I’m entertaining tonight. You should have called.”
“What did he do?” She was proud that she sounded calm despite the circumstances. Maybe her upbringing in the underworld was good for something after all.
“Does it matter?” Angel asked.
“Yes.” She knew he was dangerous. He was a Roman, but nothing could have prepared her for this. She felt as if she was coming out of her own skin. Everything in her demanded she turn around, walk out of the house, and act as if she never saw anything. Instead, she stood there like an idiot, waiting to hear his reason for torturing a man to death.
“This is Theodore,” Angel said politely. “Say hello to Carmen, Theodore.”
When the man didn’t speak, Angel threw another dagger. This one skimmed his calf. Despite the fact that the blade cut to the bone, the man didn’t move. Apparently, he was beyond feeling anything at this point. She felt a burst of relief before Angel threw another dagger. This one landed right over his belly button. The man jumped, maiming his body even more as he struggled against the swords holding him in place. Rivulets of blood ran down his body before he sagged dejectedly against the swords, which shuddered under his weight.
“Hi.”
Theodore’s resigned greeting sent chills down her spine. She fought the compulsion to rush to the man’s aid. She wanted to believe that Angel wasn’t a psychopath, so she waited.
“Theodore here likes to drug, rape and mutilate girls,” Angel said as he flipped a dagger nonchalantly. “His father is a powerful drug lord who manipulates the police and judicial system. He’s gotten Theodore out of a lot of charges. No one can stick anything to him. Yesterday, another body turned up. I decided to save the cops the trouble and take care of him.”
Angel indicated a camera on a tripod she hadn’t noticed until then.
“I’m taking some shots for his father to remember him by. He’s the one who taught Theodore how it’s done. It appears the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.” Angel shrugged. “They’re into torture porn. I thought it would be poetic justice for him to go out the way his victims have. Our families go way back. Unfortunately for Theodore, his father’s in a maximum-security prison right now, so he won’t be able to able to help.”
Angel walked up to Theodore, who began to whimper. He placed his elbow on the hilt of one of the swords protruding from Theo’s chest. The man let out a god-awful scream that raised goose bumps all over her body.
“I think Lucifer’s onto something with ancient weapons. Gavin ran Steven Vega through with swords. It inspired me, so I got some of my own.” He scanned her. “You look fancy. Hot date?”
She swallowed hard. “Not anymore.”
He shook his head ruefully. “You took your sweet time coming to me. It’s been almost a week.”
He called to one of his men who had a camera. Angel gave him directions to take shots from different angles and asked Theodore to turn his head this way and that for lighting and effect. The sound of Theodore’s whimpers made her feel sick. Theodore was a rapist and killer who was getting his just desserts, but… but it wasn’t right. She shivered and found Eli watching her. She remembered his comment when she entered—I hope you know what to do. He didn’t agree with what Angel was doing, but he didn’t stop it. Did he think she could?
“Angel!” she snapped.
“What?”
His dagger landed in Theo’s eye socket, which knocked his head into the wall with a sickening thud. Theo’s head flopped forward. Blood slid from his mouth and pooled on the floor in front of him.
“I’m sure he’ll die any second now. I have some other guests, but I can postpone it if you want to do something?”
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br /> She averted her gaze. “End it, Angel.”
“Why?”
“Because you’ve made your point.” She turned back to see that he had a cluster of knives in his hand like a steel bouquet of death. “Finish it and we can do whatever you want.”
“Whatever I want?”
“Yes.”
The only sound in the room was of the soothing waterfall. Her legs quivered as she waited for Angel to decide. She imagined that Theodore was praying for death since it was clear that Angel wanted to draw this out.
Angel didn’t drop eye contact as he pulled a gun from the small of his back and shot Theodore without hesitation. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Theodore go limp and swallowed bile. Angel tossed his daggers on a white couch and strode toward her.
“Take the final pictures,” he ordered his men before he jerked his head at her. “Upstairs.”
She hesitated before she turned to follow. Mickey looked horrified, but he didn’t intervene. Angel jogged up the ostentatious staircase while she followed more slowly. Her mind was suspended in numb disbelief over what she just witnessed. As she reached the top of the stairs, she saw a hallway extending in both directions. She wandered past closed doors and paused in the doorway to a massive master bedroom. She could hear the shower running. She sat on the bed and stared straight ahead.
The water shut off, and a minute later, Angel walked out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist. The whiplash he got from Hell left a dark scar on his otherwise unblemished body. He stopped in front of her and skimmed the back of his knuckles down her cheek. She didn’t react. The fingers slipped under her chin and tilted her face up. She focused on a water droplet that slipped from his hair and traveled down his face.
“Carmen.”
Their eyes collided. The cold began to fade as his manic energy reached for her, rousing her own. He kissed her. He went deep and opened his mouth. She copied, and his tongue stroked hers. She expected him to taste bitter with the metallic bite of blood. Instead, chocolate and mint filled her senses, seducing and enticing her. Contradictory, like everything else about him. He pushed her on her back without losing her lips. Water dampened her thin lace dress as his naked body imprinted on hers. His skin was hot, almost feverish. His hands were greedy and rough as they moved over her.
She felt as if she was in free fall. Her mind whirled with need and fear. She couldn’t get her bearings or think straight as the feel of him seeped into her starved soul. She raked her nails down his naked back. He grunted in approval and dragged her dress over her hips. She felt her thong snap and then a thick dick burrowed between her legs. Her eyes flew open, and she ripped her mouth from his.
“Angel!”
“I don’t want to hear it,” he growled as he tugged on the cups of her dress, freeing her breast, which he took in his mouth.
“I…” she gasped as he sucked hard, sending a thunderbolt to her pussy. “Angel, no!”
His head snapped up. “What?”
“We’re not doing this.” She tried to wriggle out from under him, which wasn’t happening without his permission. She could feel his cock pulsing between her legs. She came here knowing that he would fuck her silly, but she couldn’t follow through, not after witnessing Theodore’s death.
His eyes were narrow slits of heavenly blue. “You said we could do whatever I want.”
“Yes, but I have to agree.”
“What the fuck are you playing at?”
“You’re high on the kill, and you want to fuck.” She couldn’t suppress her shudder. “You can get another girl. I just needed you to end it.” She tried to wriggle out from under him, but he wasn’t moving.
“You played me.”
She stilled. The lack of inflection made her heart race. Stripped of the façade, Angel was just as imposing as Gavin. Even more so because she didn’t know his limits.
“Get off, Angel.” Her voice wavered, betraying her nerves.
Like a predator sniffing out easy prey, he planted his fists on either side of her head, caging her.
“What are you going to do if I don’t?” he whispered.
“Scream.”
“You think my men will help you?”
Probably not. She glared at him. “You’re not so butt ugly that you can’t get another woman.”
“We put this off long enough.”
His face was hard and carnal as his hand skated down her body. She bucked as his hand slipped between her legs. She gasped and reached down to grab his thick wrist.
“Wet, but not enough,” he said.
He stuck his fingers in his mouth. Her breath left her lungs as she watched his eyes close. When they opened, they were a shade darker.
“You’re perfect.”
He sat up. She panted as his penis rested against her stomach. The towel was gone, and he looked like the warrior he was, ripped and ready to fuck. His body was rigid, veins pulsing and muscles rippling. The killing urge was still on him. His mood saturated the room, flooding her body with a fight or flight response. Her mind was full of a strange buzzing noise that interfered with her ability to think. Her body was electrified while she was intimidated and confused as hell.
“You came here for this,” he stated.
She opened and closed her mouth.
He leaned down until his face was inches from hers. His good looks could deceive anyone into believing he had a heart of gold instead of one dark as sin.
“The moment I saw you, I knew we would end up here,” he said, his lips brushing hers as he spoke.
She quivered beneath him.
“You came here so I could give you this.” He rubbed his cock against her pussy. “What’s the problem? I know you’re not squeamish about blood or kills.”
His head dipped, and he kissed the corner of her lip and then trailed his mouth to her neck. She stared up at the ceiling and tried to block out the physical pleasure. His hips moved against hers. The urge to spread her legs and take him warred with the urge to protect herself. If she fucked him, it would be over. But… something in her knew if she did that, it would change something fundamental in her. Something Lyla mentioned about Gavin cheating, about him pouring his darkness into whores slipped through her mind. If she played the whore and absorbed Angel’s darkness, would she come to crave it even more? Would she become an addict for what only he could give her?
He nuzzled her throat. “This necklace is in the way.”
Her eyes opened as he tossed the necklace on the mattress. She stared at it as he stroked her.
“What do you want, Carmen?”
The tidal wave of emotion she’d been trying to hold at bay swamped her. “I want to be happy,” she whispered.
“What will make you happy?”
“I want my life back.”
The sob caught both of them off guard. Grief gripped her heart and squeezed with a vengeance. She was dimly aware of Angel’s cheek brushing hers as he lifted his head.
“Carmen.”
She frantically flapped her hands in front of her face, but that didn’t help one bit. “I-I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“Fuck.” Angel rolled and settled on his back beside her.
“I-I—” she stammered and tried to get a hold of herself. “I want…”
She didn’t know what the fuck she wanted, not anymore. She didn’t expect to be lucky enough to have two great loves in her life, but with Marcus, she’d begun to believe she found someone who understood her eccentricities. That belief had been destroyed tonight, and when she visited the one person she thought would understand her, she realized she wasn’t ready for his level of dark. Her instincts had been right all along. She didn’t want to get involved with a crime lord. A part of her still wanted the white picket fence and a little Nora of her own. She wanted a man to go on the road with, a man to laze on the beach with. That wasn’t Angel or Marcus, which left her with nothing. She had no safe place, nowhere to lick her wounds. Tonight had shattered her
delusions and made her face cold, hard facts. She was well and truly alone.
“Why did you come here tonight?”
His calm tone made her peek at him. He lay beside her, as naked as the day he was born, hands folded on his stomach. She wanted to get the hell out of here, but that might incite him to chase, so she lay beside him, her shoulder touching his.
“I came to have raw, dirty sex,” she admitted.
“And you cried instead.”
“I wasn’t expecting you to be playing with a human for target practice,” she grumbled as she swiped at her eyes.
“He broke it off?”
His words raked at her. “Pretty much.”
“Bound to happen.”
She blew out a breath. “Yeah.”
“How’d he do it?”
She sat up. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
He grabbed her arm. “That’s the least you could do for crying in my bed.”
She glared at him. “I kneed a potential business partner in the nuts.”
He stared at her for a few beats and then, “Why?”
“Apparently, he’s going to be the next powerful man in the city, and since that’s what I go for, I should know my place, which is at his feet.”
There was a lot of activity going on in his eyes, but he didn’t speak.
“Marcus told me to leave.”
His grip tightened. “He didn’t beat that guy’s ass?”
“He didn’t care what he said.” She let out a shaky breath and stared at his ripped body. “Maybe we should still fuck.”
“I’m not into women with blotchy faces.”
She let out a weak laugh. Somehow, the laugh transitioned into sobbing.
“Fuck.” He pulled her down and tipped her against his side.
She buried her face against his chest and cried her heart out. She was lost in a sea of emotion. The feel of his skin and his steady heartbeat were the only things that kept her from losing touch with reality. She clutched him while his fingers moved through her hair. When the tears ceased, she lay slumped against him with her head throbbing.