by Rue Volley
Dead? Other ones?
The room fell quiet before the accented voice replied, "I don't know. If Hux finds out, my ass’ll be…"
I blinked away the memory. “And?”
“Huxley answers to the devil himself. They’re demons.”
“Demons? The devil?” I bit my lip and wondered what new level of chaos I’d gotten myself into. Standing up, I shook my head. “Maybe coming here—”
Zeke grabbed my wrist, his warmth and dominance sent a thrilling chill through me that trickled down my body and exited through the tips of my toes. “Don’t.”
I yanked away from his hold.
“All I’m asking is for you to hear me out. Okay?”
I sank back to the couch, pulling away from Zeke’s grip. “Go on.”
“Those guys are part of the largest angel trafficking ring in Hell.”
“Angel trafficking ring,” I repeated.
“Right.” He nodded. “Huxley has this connection…up in Ascension and Fallens are worth a fortune, forced into slavery here.”
I frowned as I thought about Sterling’s words when he’d pushed me.
“Now, you’re truly going to be special,” he said with a wicked grin. “One of an elite group.”
Shit!
“Wait.” I swallowed. “So, I’m not the only one?”
Zeke slowly shook his head.
“There are others here? For a moment, my heart swelled. Could there really be more out there like me? A pariah? An outcast? Someone who’d been ostracized? I thought back to my black wings.
He remained quiet.
The wheels in my head began to spin faster. “And you…Colton…Alejandro…are all…let me out of here,” I demanded as I stood up, rushing toward the door. Enough was enough.
Zeke shushed me as he leapt over the couch to stop me, my frame bouncing off of his firm chest. “You don’t get it. I’m not like them,” his voice rumbled.
“I don’t believe you,” I seethed.
He narrowed his eyes. “Well, maybe I don’t need your fucking validation.”
“Why should I believe anything you say? I’m sitting in Hell right now.”
“You’re valuable to them.”
“Why?” I narrowed my eyes. “Because I have a vagina?”
“Angel, you’re not like the rest, and they know that. You’re a carrier.”
“For what?” I frowned.
“For demon blood.”
“Demon blood? What does that even mean?”
“You’re the perfect equation, part angel with a hint of demon—it’s like a bonding agent. To them, you’re a narcotic and a possession. Lester thinks you’ll be their trophy slave.”
“Perfect”? That’s one word I’ve never heard since I’ve been in Ascension.
“Not happening. All of you are batshit crazy.” I shook my head and made another attempt for the door.
Zeke braced his hands against my shoulders, and I could tell his patience was wearing thin. “Is there anything different about you or were you one of Heaven’s stereotypical cherubs? Strumming a harp happily on cloud nine while fluttering your white wings.” He paused. “I didn’t think so. I can sense something about you. Darkness. Despair. Isolation. It draws me to you like a beacon.”
I shivered and swallowed down the bitter expression on my face, knowing it was a wasted effort.
“See? You do know.” He loosened his grip on me. “I can smell it on you. It’s like fear, but so, so sweet.”
“What do they want from me?” my voice was quiet.
“Whatever they want,” he replied. “To mark the innocent. Degrade you. Defile you. Debase you. Wear you down. You’re different than the rest; they want to push your limits.”
“And why do you care? What’s with all of the heroic effort to save me?”
The phone rang—an unwelcome interruption.
“Perfect timing,” I muttered.
7
Zeke stared at me as he pulled the cell from his pocket, his eyes flicking over to the screen. “Fuck.” He lifted the index finger of his opposing hand to his lips to shush me as he opened the line.
Instantly, the tone in his voice changed as if he were a chameleon. “What’s up, man?” he asked.
There was a round of colorful yelling on the other end of the phone as he pulled it away from his ear a few inches, wincing.
“Where the fuck are you? I’m at your house looking to beat your motherfuckin’ ass!” Lester shouted through the phone.
“I’m not there. I had to pick up a delivery from Styx I forgot about. What do you mean she’s gone? She was still chained to the wall when I left.” His eyes flicked over to me.
Wait. I looked around the room. Not there? Where are we?
“I gave you ‘splicit instructions to not let ‘fuck you’ out of your sight. This is why you don’t get trusted with shit,” he whined. “I haven’t paid for her yet.”
A pause.
“Awwww, shit!” Lester continued. “The bitch took off with the stack of paperwork. Jacob’s gonna chop off my dick and serve it to Hux!”
Zeke looked up at me, his gaze locking with mine. “I haven’t seen her, I swear.”
“You’d better get your ass over here after Styx to fuckin’ help out.” An audible click sounded through the phone.
I crossed my arms and gestured toward my surroundings. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on yet? Who owns this house?”
He swallowed. “I’m guessing you wouldn’t believe that I’m more like you than you think?”
I remained quiet and shook my head left and right.
“Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up.”
I remained still. “The truth.”
An air of frustration manifested on his face as he clenched his jaw. “It’s pretty damn simple. I freed you, and I’m trying to help you. Take it or leave it.” His words were firm, and I knew I wasn’t going to divulge more answers from him…yet.
Silently, I nodded.
He led the way down the hall and toward a door on the right, bracing it open with his palm in order to allow me to walk through first. I refused with my feet firmly planted in the doorway.
The bathroom was dark and depressing, much like the rest of my surroundings. I was still surprised that unlike Lester’s apartment, it wasn’t messy. No broken glass. No crumpled napkins. No droplets of orange nicotine dripping on the walls.
“What makes you think they won’t find you here? It should be easy if it’s your house.” I leaned against the edge of the counter. “Or are we breaking and entering now?”
“It should be easy,” he paused, “if any of them knew this was where I really lived.”
I furrowed my brow.
“I don’t lead a simple life...” His mouth hung open for a second longer than necessary, and I knew he was going to end the statement with my name, but he couldn’t.
Still reluctant, I hovered near the doorway. He maneuvered around cupboards and drawers, pulling out a boxed toothbrush, gray towel, miniature bottle of shampoo, and a flowered disposable razor. Zeke knew the location of every item. It wasn’t his first time in the home—I was certain.
“A flowered razor? So, I’m not your first charity case.” I raised an eyebrow. “It’s interesting you people shackle me to a wall, but you’ll trust me with a blade.”
“‘You people’? I’m not holding you hostage, remember?” His tone was bitter as he walked out of the bathroom with an elongated sigh. “It’s all yours, your highness,” he muttered as he walked by, turning around at the last second. “And for the record? You’re the first ‘charity case’ I’ve ever brought here. The rest?” He slammed the door. “Fucking forget it.”
I was officially alone.
Staring at my reflection in the cracked glass, I barely recognized myself. My right cheek was tinged green and purple from Lester’s hit, my lower lip swollen, and colorful smears of mud and makeup decorated my skin. With a sigh, I rubbed my face, realizing how dir
ty my hands were, grime caked under my fingernails and around my cuticles. The razor caught my eye. I picked it up and thought about breaking off the plastic in order to hold the blade to my wrist, ready to spill my own blood, to end it once and for all. The truth was—I didn’t know if it’d ever truly end. I was already in Hell, and the last time I died I’d wound up in Ascension. Was there anywhere else I could go? My hands shook and I sobbed, knowing I couldn’t go through with killing myself…or if it were even possible.
Calm down, Genesis. Just take a shower.
After locking the door, I braved the coldest shower of my life, trying to wash away the filthy memories of the past few days, but one thought continued to surface to the forefront of my mind. Zeke. Thoughts of his eyes. Thoughts of the stubble on his face. Thoughts of his strong arms. Thoughts of his voice. All of it left me forgetting that I was shivering under a stream of icy droplets.
I wound the thin, charcoal-colored towel around my frame and stepped out of the shower, my hands quaking and my lips blue. Surveying my surroundings, I weighed my options. There was a robe hooked over the back of the door, and my dingy white dress was in a pile on the floor. After hesitation, I wrapped myself in the scratchy material, tying the sash around my waist. Angel, no more.
I leaned against the back of the door, feeling guilty about my tone to Zeke. As I rehashed our conversations, it seemed as if he were legitimately trying to help me, but I wasn’t ready to trust anyone. At that point, I didn’t even know if I could trust myself.
That was a conundrum. Furrowing my brow, I decided it was time for a change, and I was going to take a leap of faith.
Quietly, I opened the door and walked down the hallway, the rough carpet thin beneath my feet. When I reached the entryway to the living room, I held my breath.
Zeke was standing in front of the living room window with his cell phone perched between his shoulder and his ear. His jacket was draped across the back of a chair, and a familiar deck of cards was on the edge of a coffee table. Through the thin material of his gray t-shirt, I could make out the defined muscles on his back, his sculpted traps bridging their way to his neck.
“I get it, Lester. I get it better than anyone else you know.”
A pause.
“I already told you I don’t know where she’s at, and I’d come by after Styx.”
Zeke’s posture went rigid from Lester’s reply, and I wondered what he said. In turn, he threw the phone across the room and it splintered into a shower of plastic and metal to the floor. “Fuck.” He rested his forehead against the glass and I studied him. It was evident he was troubled, and he’d taken risks to save me, a stranger. I’d been less than thankful, and it was time for an apology.
A stack of paperwork was on strewn on the edge of a desk aligned with the wall, and I froze. The names of angels I’d met while I’d dragged my feet in Ascension littered the page. They’d disappeared from my world. It was the natural progression, wasn’t it? I’d assumed they’d been assigned their fate, but the paperwork on the table explained otherwise. Some of the names had a stamp next to them that read, “RESCUED” near his signature. He wasn’t lying. Zeke wasn’t associated with Lester. As much as I didn’t want it, my walls were crumbling and my guard was falling.
The paper was filled with names, including my own; however, the space next to it was blank. As far as he knew, I hadn’t been saved. Zeke still didn’t know my identity.
With cautious steps, I continued across the room in the unfamiliar setting. Oddly, it was the safest I’d felt in days. I picked up the deck of cards from the table and toyed with the corner of the box, searching for the right words to say. My vocabulary failed me. Zeke was close enough to where I could smell his aftershave, the masculine, scent of spice and woods inviting. Instead of talking, I reached out with shaky fingers and rested my hand on his shoulder, the heat from his flesh greeting my icy fingertips through the material as a shiver emitted, melting me from the inside out.
He spun around and I instinctively pulled back. Immediately, he let the tension out of his shoulders. “Didn’t know you were there.”
My teeth instantly began to chatter as the coldness embraced me again.
He let out a slow, deep breath. “Sorry ‘bout the water. It’s Hell. All the jokes about everything being hot here—not necessarily true.”
“Stop apologizing.” I bit my lip, keeping the recently found paperwork out of the conversation. “You risked more than I realized to save me.”
The expression behind his eyes looked sad, and I wanted to take it away.
“You know, if you want to run, I won’t try to stop you.” He glanced toward the door. “I’m not here to hold you captive.”
“Well, damn. I forgot my tennis shoes.” I glanced down at my feet with a half-smile. “Guess I’m not going anywhere.”
He smirked and I could tell from his rigid posture the phone conversation with Lester was still weighing on him.
“Let’s play a game.” I looked up at him and dumped the deck into my hand. In my best attempt, I tried to shuffle the cards in the same fancy manner he did, but I failed as a few fell to the ground. “If I draw a red card, tell me something about you. If I draw a black card, I ask you a question about you.”
He adjusted his stance, the defined muscles on his forearms a persuasive form of distracting me.
I cleared my throat and blinked. “And if you draw a red card, I tell you something about me. If you draw a black card, you ask a question about me. Simple, right? Black? Questions. Red? Facts. We take turns.”
“Sounds simple enough,” he forced away a smile as he looked at the few cards that’d fluttered to the ground, “but I’m trying to figure out when the tables turned.” He raised an eyebrow.
“Someone told me that’s another conversation for another day,” I replied, my heart beating hard in my chest as I handed him half of the deck. The closer I stood to Zeke, the more I was drawn to him. My inhibitions were dwindling and about to be come snuffed.
“Someone once told me ladies first.” I pulled the three of hearts from the deck and held it up so he could see it.”
“A fact,” he said, thoughtful. “You’re beautiful.”
“That’s not a fact about you,” I replied.
“Okay.” The humor faded from behind his eyes. “I know you’re beautiful.”
“Yeah, I’m sure the bruises are sexy.” I felt a rush of crimson tinge my cheeks pink as I averted my eyes.
He reached out and touched my lower lip softly, a flurry of butterflies flitting against my stomach. “Which one of them did this to you?” his voice was low.
“Does it matter?” I replied.
He cleared his throat and pulled a card from his deck. “Ace of diamonds.”
My voice was fragile, “I lied to you.”
8
He scrutinized my expression, waiting for me to explain.
“I know exactly how you feel.” With as much bravery as I could muster, I was about to unveil a secret—something I hadn’t done with anyone else, not even Cade. It was a risky move. I turned around until my back faced him, lowering the top of the scratchy robe far enough to where he could see the permanent nubs of black beneath my scars.
Glancing over my shoulder at him, I waited for his expression of repulsion, words of disbelief, or shrieks of of horror, but none of them happened. Instead, he reached out and gently ran his fingers over the flesh, careful not to cause me any pain. My eyes burned with tears that someone was willingly touching the disgrace on my back and not trying to harm me.
“Jesus. Do they hurt?” his voice had lost its edge.
“Not anymore.” I swallowed the lump in my throat before tightening the robe around my frame again. “Can I ask you something?”
He looked at me and didn’t reply. “You’re not holding a black card.”
I ignored his attempt at humor. “How many have you saved?”
“More than I care to disclose,” he said.
�
�Why do you do it?”
“Repentance. There’s a lot of regret in my past.”
I swallowed.
He maintained eye contact with me as he pulled the next black card from his stack. “What are you thinking about right now?”
There was something about standing near Zeke that made me want to crawl inside of him and figure out what made him tick. It was as if he stoked a fire within me, and it was becoming more difficult to deny that only he could maintain the flames. Another dose of honesty was about to get me in trouble. “I should say I’m thinking about escaping, but it’s not true. Instead, I can’t help but wonder what you’d look like without your shirt on.”
Zeke set the deck of cards on the table and reached down to lift the thin material over his head in a slow gesture, letting it fall to the ground.
His pectorals were defined and the corded muscles of his stomach taut, rippled beneath his olive-toned skin. I caught myself staring as my heartbeat thudded in my chest and a matching pulse fired between my legs. Blinking away the cloud of lust that permeated around me, I pulled a red card from my deck, not glancing closely enough to read what suit or number it indicated.
“I’m wondering when you’re going to bolt for the door,” he said as he pulled a red card from his deck, holding it up in front of me.
“Why would I bolt if I wanted to kiss you?” my voice was a soft whisper and my words surprised myself. Did I just say that out loud?
“Isn’t that a question?” He arched an eyebrow.
I shook my head left and right. “Does it matter?”
Zeke licked his lips, and everything in the room fell silent. The drab grays, depressing darkness, and lifeless colors were muted, replaced with a bright light and a flame that burned within me.
The sound of my slow, shallow breaths was loud against the otherwise quiet of the room.
Zeke took a step toward me and held up the last card he’d chosen. He was inches from my face, and his spicy scent intensified as I looked into his eyes. He held the glossy surface of the card lightly against my cheek, the cool surface sending a shudder through me as he trailed it down my jaw and over my lips.