“Like what?” I ask listlessly from my position on the window seat. I pull at a crimson feather of my wing, straining my ears to hear anything from the total idiots on the beach.
“There’s an old jukebox down in the ballroom. Let’s go see what it has in it!” Brownie says, getting to her feet and smoothing her perfectly quaffed platinum blond hair as her blue eyes sparkle.
Buns joins her instantly, looking excited. “Sweetie, we learned some amazing dance moves in London, while we were trying to figure out a way to get rid of the Dominion Power angels.”
“OH!” Brownie chimes in. “You need to see this! C’mon, Evie!”
Brownie grasps my wrist, hauling me out of my seat, because although she’s a Reaper angel, like Buns, she’s strong, much stronger than a human. “Okay,” I mutter, feeling like I have to do something before I start crawling up the wall, which I can actually do now.
Brownie leads the way down the hall. The ballroom is located in the back of the house. Entering the large, gilded room, Brownie flips on the light switch to the rows of crystal chandeliers overhead. Beautiful, whitewashed, wood paneled walls with gilded, beveled edges face the opposing wall of French doors that runs the length of the room. Hardwood floors reflect the light almost as much as the gilt-framed mirrors that adorn the walls. Coven ceilings with painted frescos depicting angels at peace tower over our heads. Buns laces her arm through mine and walks with me to the other side of the room.
“It’s so beautiful in here,” I breathe, while she depresses a hidden panel insert in the back wall. A hidden door opens. Folding it back, it exposes a room filled with the most lavish items I’ve ever seen. An old phonograph stands on an antique table next to a not so ancient jukebox.
Looking further back in the room, I spy dresses of every cut, color, and style dating back at least a couple of centuries. Most of them are swathed in clear garment bags hanging along the walls.
“This dress would look so good on you, Evie,” Brownie says, picking up a silver flapper-style dress that looks like it’s straight out of the roaring 20’s. “It would go well with your gray eyes. How tall are you?” she asks, holding it up to me.
“Uh…five-nine,” I reply absently, still looking around at the trunks that line the walls, but I’m distracted from opening any of them when Buns gives a little squeal of pleasure next to me.
Coming closer to the jukebox, I peer through the glass front, seeing an eclectic selection of music from classical to solid gold oldies. “Zee said he hasn’t really used this house since the sixties…I think it shows. Oh! Look! Jerry Lee Lewis—Great Balls of Fire!” she squeals, plugging in the jukebox and watching it light up. Pressing buttons, the arm of the jukebox moves and a record drops. The pounding lyrics of the song belts out something about nerves shaking and brains rattling.
“SOCK HOP!” Buns says, grabbing my hand and pulling me towards the ballroom floor. Showing me dances that she must have learned in the fifties, I grin as Brownie joins in selecting songs by Elvis and ‘The Big Bopper,’ whoever that may be.
After dancing for an hour, I go to the French doors, opening all of them to get the cool breeze to filter in. Looking out at the dark sky I close my eyes, breathing in the damp, tropical air as the rain continues to pour down outside. Hearing another record drop, I wait to hear what Buns will select next. The haunting strains of a song I’ve never heard before begins to fill the room. Feeling butterflies taking flight in my abdomen, I know that it’s Reed who just wrapped his arms around my waist.
“Will you do me the honor of a dance?” Reed asks in a sexy tone that makes my heartbeat pick up.
“I don’t know…I’m angry with you,” I reply, turning around and looking at his perfect face that is now marred by a cut on his cheek and a split lip. Biting my own lip at seeing the marks on him, I raise my fingers gently to his cheek. He closes his eyes briefly as I rest my hand on his face. Then, taking my hand in his, he leads me to the middle of the ballroom floor. Feeling his hand rest gently on the small of my back, he begins to lead me confidently around the dance floor.
I follow him, surprised at how easy it is to dance with him to the soft, rhythmic music floating around us. It’s effortless…like a dream. “What’s this song called?” I ask, enthralled by the soulful, romantic melody.
“Pavane. It’s by a composer named Gabriel Faure,” he replies, gazing into my eyes. “It reminds me of you…beautiful and haunting, filled with grace and elegance…and a hint of sadness…longing…” he breathes near my ear, causing a tumult of desire to rush through me. His masculine cheek brushes against mine, sparking every fiber in me to attune to him.
“Is that how you see me, Reed?” I ask, continuing to follow his elegant movements around the floor.
“You have so many facets, Evie,” he replies, his eyes growing dark with desire as he lifts his head to look at me. “I thought that I could never love you more than when you were a fragile, brave girl just beginning to change into an angel. You were so courageous then, you took my breath away,” he says, gently steering me in the hypnotic dance. “But then you began to change and with that evolution came power…power like I never expected…strength and intelligence…flawless beauty…” he smiles, his eyes seeming to touch every inch of my face. “In all the years that I have lived, the time that I have spent with you has been the most exquisite…and this moment, our first dance, I will never forget if I live forever.”
“I still can’t believe you’re real,” I whisper, leaning my face against his shoulder, hearing his heart beating strongly in his chest. “I love you.”
“And I, you,” Reed whispers back as the final strains of the song fade to silence.
Lifting my head as we come to a stop in the middle of the room, I smile while the breeze lifts my hair and pushes it toward my face. Another record drops as my eyes widen in reaction to the sweet, sticky scent that assails my nose.
CHAPTER 3
Nicolas And Simone
Tensing in fear, a growl escapes me as I react to the scent of the Gancanagh carried to me on the tropical breeze. Reed’s charcoal-colored wings shoot out of his back, tearing his white Oxford shirt away as he steps in front of me, shielding me from the French doors. My eyes go wide, seeing the lacerations on Reed’s back. He has at least two, huge, black bruises on his ribs, multiple contusions and that’s just what I can see from this angle.
“Eaves,” a familiar feminine voice calls from somewhere outside in the darkness. “It’s me. Don’t freak out—”
“Molly?” I breathe, trying to step around Reed, but he continues to block any attempt I make at getting a clear view of what’s beyond the French doors.
“You move and you die,” Zephyr growls from the darkness.
“Whatever you say, aingeal,” Molly replies, and I can hear the cheeky grin in her tone. “I just have some intel to impart to my friend and then I’m out. Nice place you got here. I’d ask you if it’s been on MTV’s Cribs, but I doubt you’d get it.”
“Molly,” I say again, closing my eyes and trying to calm my racing heart. “It’s okay, Zee. She won’t hurt us.”
“No, it’s not okay, Zee.” Reed says, still in a defensive posture. “This is the friend that helped lure Evie away from us in China.”
“I remember you,” Zephyr says in a growling tone.
“’Twas me all right,” Molly replies, parodying the accent of the Gancanagh. “But, I’ve since had a reversal of fortune, ye might say. ’Twould seem dat wi’ Evie on da outs, I’m deir number one pawn ta get her back…except I’m no one’s pawn.”
“It wants pity, Reed,” Zephyr says, sounding disgusted.
Molly hisses, “Don’t make me have to touch you, angel, because I’d enjoy having you as my slave.” She sounds like she’s close to losing it. “Evie has been my friend since second grade—she’s the only family I have left and I’m not going to let them change her into a Gancanagh if she doesn’t want to be changed. So you can either let me talk to her or you
and I can get better acquainted.”
Low growls sound from Zephyr and Buns. “ZEE! Please don’t hurt her—Molly, please don’t threaten the seriously lethal angels—everybody be cool!” I say, putting both my arms out, motioning to Buns to stay back because I can see that she didn’t appreciate Molly’s threat to her angel.
“IT shouldn’t have any problems keeping cool,” Zephyr replies, referring to the fact that Molly’s basically undead and therefore ice-cold to the touch.
“That’s original,” Molly says, and I can hear her rolling her eyes in her tone. “I’m cold and smelly. I’ve heard that before so maybe you should get a new playlist of insults.”
“Reed, please let her in. I need to hear what she has to tell me,” I plead, feeling overwhelming sadness for Molly.
Brennus had found Molly after I escaped him in Houghton. He had Finn, his brother, change Molly from a human girl into a Gancanagh by biting her and then sharing his blood with her. They wanted Molly to use as a pawn to make me come back to them, banking on the fact that I would try to help my childhood friend. But, there is nothing I could do to help her. She is a Gancanagh with a thirst for blood, and toxic skin, which she uses to control the will of her victims. Anyone she touches will become her slave—anyone but Russell and I. We are immune to the touch of the Gancanagh. It is one of the reasons why Brennus finds me so appealing. He can touch me and I won’t become his slave who will follow any order he gives me.
“Evie,” Reed says, shaking his head sadly, “she’s not your friend anymore.”
Putting my hand on his arm, I manage to get him to look at me. “Listen to me. Molly offered to bite me, to break Brennus’ contract and set me free just after the Werree attacked me.”
Both his hands go to my upper arms as he straightens his posture and looks into my eyes. “Why didn’t you let her do it?” he asks, looking outwardly calm, but I can tell that there is a fire being lit inside of him, knowing I could’ve returned to him sooner.
“Because Brennus would’ve killed her if she did. He promised to torture and kill anyone who bit me and freed me from his magical contract,” I reply.
“She is evil now,” he says without a hint of doubt.
“She’s always been like a sister to me and that is just as strong in her,” I reply, watching his brow pull down in a frown. “Please, hear her out.”
Reed pauses, looking reluctant. “Molly…please come in,” he says, not taking his eyes from mine.
“Awesome,” Molly says, before strolling into the ballroom. “Nice pad, Eaves.”
She’s dripping wet from the rain, leaving a trail of water as she stops several feet away from any of us. Buns and Brownie stay well back from her as Zephyr trails her in, training a seriously hostile automatic weapon on her.
“Thanks,” I say, trying to take a step toward Molly and not being able to budge because Reed is still holding both my arms. “Reed,” I murmur.
“You can hear her from here,” he replies calmly.
“What happened to him?” Molly asks, pointing at Reed.
Looking back in Reed’s direction, I pale, seeing his chest for the first time. He has a deep, claw mark running from his left shoulder to his right hip and a definite bite mark from a tiger etched into his side. It’s healing, but it still looks painful.
My eyes drift to his face, which flushes with color as he mumbles, “You should see him.”
“Forget it, I don’t really want to know about your kinky, angel things,” Molly says, waving her hand as if to erase the last exchange. “I’m here to let you know that Brennus has gone off the deep end. It’s lunatic fringe time,” she says, looking at my face. “Finn has been filling me in when he can, but I haven’t been able to see him in a few days.”
“What do you mean, Mols?” I ask. “Aren’t you with them?”
Shaking her head, she says, “Finn sent me away from the estate before you opened the compact that Casimir gave you. He knew that the Fallen would retaliate, succeed or fail, and he wanted to protect me. He also knew that if the angels succeeded in getting you back, I’d be toast. Finn knew they kidnapped Leif so he would bite you to break the contract. That put my life in jeopardy,” she says. “Brennus wouldn’t hesitate to torture me in front of you to make you do whatever he wants you to do, but I’m not gonna let him do that to us.”
“But…Finn loves you! Brennus couldn’t do that to his brother…” I trail off, watching her shake her head.
“He’s too obsessed to let you go, Eaves. He is insane now. I hope he never gets you back because…it’ll be gruesome. He was never such a tyrant before, not like he is now. He’ll kill anything that shows the least resistance to his will, now. Finn and I won’t be seeing each other for a while after this…not until it’s over,” she says, looking like she’s in pain. “So, I’m on my own...well, not really, I’m as rich as sin now, thanks to Finn. He said he’ll find me when this is resolved.”
“I’m so sorry…” I trail off when she holds up her hand.
“Don’t say you’re sorry. You never had a chance…not after Alfred gave Brennus the portrait.” I cringe, thinking of the portrait painted of me depicting the Goddess Persephone.
Russell was against me modeling for it. I should’ve listened to him.
“When will they mount their attack?” Reed asks, trying to get specifics.
“I don’t know, but it’ll be soon. Brennus is as impatient and demanding as a two-year-old. I do know a few things, though. Don’t expect them to go easy on you, Eaves. Playtime is over. All the fellas know that they’re allowed to bite you. Brennus thinks that it will help to subdue you because he is aware of how powerful you’re becoming. He said if you’re trippin’, then you’re less of a threat.”
“But that’s a huge risk for him…someone like Eion has a hard time stopping once he bites…he could drain me before Brennus can stop him,” I say, feeling ill remembering how I felt the last time I was bitten.
A gnawing ache of hunger begins and if I can’t find any animal blood to satisfy the blood lust, the horrific hallucinations follow soon after. Anyone else bitten by the Gancanagh wouldn’t feel this type of pain, because the Gancanagh’s skin drugs him. Only Russell and I would feel the pain intensely.
“Well, I guess that’s the risk he’s willing to take. He did warn them not to share their blood with you. He wants you as his sclábhaí, his slave. No one else will be your máistir but him,” she says as she shivers. “But he’s not sure he wants that anymore. He swings between killing you slowly, refusing to turn you as you die by degrees, and waiting until the last possible moment to turn you, if you beg him and tell him you love him.”
My legs feel numb with fear, hearing the plans Brennus has for me. If one of his men bites me, but doesn’t turn me, I will be in so much pain I will be praying for death to arrive…but it won’t. It will just be intense pain, unless I beg Brennus to end that pain for me…to share his blood with me. He may even refuse me at that point. He may just leave me in intense pain—forever.
How long will I have to endure that kind of pain? I wonder, feeling like everything is coming to an end. All my hopes of staying with Reed seem so feeble and naïve.
“Tell us about their forces, weapons, how will they strike?” Reed asks, his face going blank. He’s in war mode now.
“They’re having problems…” Molly trails off, and I can see that this is difficult for her. Her loyalties are divided. What she tells us can ultimately harm Finn. “Your angel army has been wreaking havoc on the Gancanagh forces. They’re actively hunting all of us now…them and your buddies, the Fallen.”
“He made you targets,” Zephyr says, referring to Brennus.
“You think?” Molly replies sarcastically. “But, it’s okay…I’ve actually acquired a taste for fallen angels. I figure they have it coming, since they have my soul.”
“Brennus is having a hard time mobilizing his forces. Moving them without detection is difficult, even with money,” Reed says i
n a meditative way. “A surgical strike would be easier and quicker. Grab and go.”
“Or bite and go,” Molly replies. “But, I wouldn’t count on Evie being the only objective. He wants revenge. He wants blood and retribution. You took something that belongs to him and no one gets away with that in our world.”
“What are you saying?” I ask, feeling nauseous.
“I’m saying you can’t be a martyr in this one, Eaves. Don’t even think about going to him,” she says, watching my face and reading it like a book. “You can’t barter yourself for them—or me. Those days are over. The only way your friends will be safe is if he’s ended. Even if he makes you his queen, and that’s a big if, they all die.”
Zephyr scoffs, like the threat of the Gancanagh getting him is minimal. “He is deranged.”
“Now you’re getting it,” Molly replies, checking her fingernails.
“Will he send his men or will he be comin’ himself? Do we need to start huntin’ him?” Russell asks quietly, from the doorway of the ballroom. Startled by how stealthily he came in, I glance at him and my jaw falls open. His face is bruised and swollen from his fight with Reed; one eye is almost completely closed.
“Russell,” his name escapes my lips as my stomach clenches. He ignores me, watching Molly.
“I don’t know. Maybe you should get some more men…unless this isn’t the position you intend to defend,” she says, tilting her head like she’s assessing us all. “You don’t seem like you plan on being here when he makes his move.”
“How old are you?” Zephyr asks suspiciously.
“Nineteen and a half, but I had brothers growing up and they played every combat game known to man,” Molly replies. “It was kinda freaking me out that you allowed me to get this close to you. I was thinking that this was amateur hour with a neon sign that blinks: VICTIMS HERE. But, you’re not lame, are you?”
“Oh, there’s zero lameness here, sweetie,” Buns replies, smiling derisively at Molly.
Incendiary (The Premonition Series (Volume 4)) Page 4