by Laura Hawks
The piece he had was telling him nothing of where the other section was that he needed to make it whole. He swung and ripped out the trees, setting them on fire with a thought, furious at the fact the stone would not work for him. Xon’s fury pierced Clarissa’s brain and she softly whimpered.
Azamel heard the soft cry from her, removed his hands and therefore his extra push of power. Breaking away so suddenly was like tearing a piece of her soul and she howled out painfully. Her body convulsed wildly and she dropped the dagger as the burning, piercing sensation wracked every molecule within her. She stopped shaking and toppled over unconscious. The pain took its toll on her, ripped her insides apart in such a way that passing out was the only thing left her body could do.
“Fuck!” he cursed loudly and fell on his knees next to her unconscious form. He lifted her head, his fingers at her throat. Relieved as he felt a strong pulse, he carefully picked her up and carried her to the quarters he had given her. He laid her down gently on the huge bed as he lifted his hands and moved them over her body. The warmth emanating from them relaxed her and soothed the pain. Mel moved back and took a seat in the armchair next to the bed as he waited for her to become conscious once again.
Lost to the peaceful darkness, the pain pulled away from her, Clarissa was content to remain where she was, in blissful obscurity. No pain, no feelings of loss, no duties that she had to attend to. Nothingness enveloped around her and she let it, sank into it, giving herself over to the quietness. The tranquility called to her and she was content to remain in the idyllic surrounding, letting a euphoric feeling encompass her. Her exterior body remained still on the bed, her breathing even but shallow, lost to unconsciousness.
Her breathing slowed, she was calmer and her face was more relaxed. Mel used the opportunity to study her features. The strength inside her was palpable even in rest. He resisted the urge to probe inside her mind, not wanting to disturb her peaceful countenance yet he realized they had very limited time to secure the stone.
A conscience he did not think he had was speaking to him. ‘I want that stone, for centuries I thought it lost to me. Its power lures me even now, yet something is holding me back, preventing me from taking it as I always do when I yearn for something. I seek what I crave and I take it, yet I suddenly find myself in a precarious position. That which I long for is not necessarily that which I desired when I started this journey.’
The warring emotions within the executioner were both frightening and exhilarating. Unsure as to how to proceed, Mel stood up and walked to the door. He stopped, not being able to resist a last look at her. As he turned his head, he found her emerald green eyes upon him.
She had sensed his retreating presence and it pulled her out of her dark security, allowed duty and feeling to return. She watched his backside as he made his way to the door, surprised when he turned and she found herself starring into those pale baby blues once again. They were the color of the sky on an approaching storm, the peace just before the torrent rage of wind and rain. She gazed at him. A part of her did not want him to go, another needed to end this mission quickly and successfully before all of her was lost to him.
“Xon is very angry because he does not know where the stone went.”
Azamel was glad that she spoke and broke the awkward atmosphere that settled in the room. “How do you feel?” Immediately he felt stupid for even asking. He cleared his throat and continued a bit more gruffly, “You just fainted on me. I was not sure if my powers did that or it was the result of something else.”
Clarissa sat up and lowered her head. “Painful was an understatement on the warning. I sensed your power and I saw the demon better, felt him actually. Could feel the rage he had that he was not succeeding and it was taking longer than he estimated. I felt you pull back and it was like you were pulling me apart with the power you were withdrawing.” She raised her legs on the bed and wrapped her arms about them, huddled within herself as she tried to overcome the memory of it, almost still feeling the tentacles of pain that coursed through her.
“It was like you were pulling my essence? My soul even?” She shook her head. “Something that was me out of me.”
Azamel put his hands in his pockets to give them a place to be but also to stop him from doing something stupid, like take her in his arms and comfort her. He took a very nonchalant pose, hoping she bought the air of indifference he liked to keep around him. “That is one of the aspects of your powers that you need to learn. It is also the most dangerous. When your essence separates from your physical body, your body is vulnerable until your entity returns. You will need to make sure you are in a safe place. Sometimes the pain is almost unbearable.”
Clarissa peered up at him, with an almost a pitiful look. “It never hurt like that, ever. A friend told me I convulsively shake and that my eyes gloss over. It comes over me sometimes with other things or even people.” She thought about the first time she touched him but said nothing about that as she continued, “With the dagger, however it comes usually whenever I concentrate. It never hurt before. Nothing like that had ever happened previously.”
“I wish I could tell you that it would not be painful but that would be giving you false expectations. I only shared some of my powers with you, the ones you needed to strengthen your own. That was a mere pittance of the abilities that you could have or the ones that you will need to cope with. It will take practice and time which we don’t have. I-” he spoke through gritted teeth, the thought of being close to her both excited and scared him. “I can teach you, help you build your strength.”
She heard the gruff tone and stood up, anger infused her. “Oh please! Do not bother! I would hate to be more of a burden to you than I already am. Obviously I have taken up a lot of your precious time as is.” She lifted her chin defiantly. “Your demon friend is looking for me. Let me out of here and I will go deal with him and then you never have to see me again. I won’t be this hindrance on you any longer!”
Before she had a chance to blink Mel had her by the throat, her toes dangled a foot above the ground. His eyes flashed red and the demon inside of him reared its head for a split second before he masked it. She caught a glimpse of his evil side as her eyes widen. Mel’s voice was so low it was almost demonic, “Do not push me! You have no idea who you are dealing with and what I can do to you. The loss of your family will be but a flutter compared to the eternal pain and anguish I am capable of giving you. I am helping you out of my own free will, out of a noble wish to not let evil roam freely. Do not ever try that with me again.”
Her eyes widened and then narrowed. Her hands clamped around his still around her throat, cutting off her air supply slightly. There was a part of her that just willed him to take her life and get it over with. The fact he knew about her family, about her heartache infuriated her further.
She kneed him so hard, she was sure he would never increase the spawn of his existence by creating off-spring. His grip lessened for a moment. She was not sure if it was out of surprise that she would dare such a thing or if she really did hurt him. With were-wolf speed, his hands still encircled by hers, she twisted and flipped him over her shoulder onto the floor before he even had a chance to blink. She straddled him and pinned his arms down, using his weight against him. Growling, low and deep, inhuman, she snarled. “Your offer to,” She spat out the next word, “help was offered with disdain. You wanna kill me, do it. You think I am scared of the anguish as a result of the loss of my family that you know nothing about then you’re wrong. Anything is bliss compared to what I live through on a daily basis.”
His eyes became a deeper red then she ever saw before, something she did not think possible. Her heart raced with fear but she would not give in to it, she would not give in to him. He was momentarily winded and just stared up at her. ‘Fuck me, I forgot how strong a were can be.’ He twisted his body around, let her fall on her back then pinned her with his body. She squirmed but she could not move other than growl insults at him. Her e
yes were flashing, the anger and aggression bled from her.
“Will you stop? How is this helping? I am getting up now. If you still want to leave then go, find him yourself, get killed, that makes no difference to me, sweetheart. You think I care about your death? You know nothing.” He tried desperately not to think about how soft her body was beneath his and the way his traitorous body was responding to her.
All of her despair and hatred for living when everyone was gone just poured through every pore of her body. She squirmed as she tried to fight him, attempted to get him off of her and became more frustrated when she could not.
“You started this! Why should you care anything about me, much less my death?”
She managed to free an arm and beat upon his chest, trying to dislodge him. Her body wracked with fury and bitterness, all of which she held in for so long, now came out in torrents. His last words about not caring whether she lived or died weakened her. Tears slipped down her cheeks as she continued to try and free herself. Yet she knew she was not really putting any strength into her attack as she gave into feeling his hard, strong body pressed against hers.
Clarissa’s rage did not affect Mel much. After all, he was used to displays of violence and hatred. However, when tears ran down her cheeks, it completely unraveled any semblance of control he had. Making an inhuman sound, he grabbed her hand, pinned it to the ground then dipped his head down taking her lips in a brutal kiss. Mel’s action was nothing more than a violent display of his inner turmoil, an attempt to punish her for what she was doing to him, the lack of mastery he had over his body when it came to her. His tongue thrust against her mouth, forced hers open and dueled with hers in an age long dance.
Clarissa was about to throw more insults at him for making her feel so much when all speech was halted as his lips pressed against hers, his tongue invaded her mouth brutally and yet, it was exquisite. Her body betrayed her, all anger, all heartache dissipated in that moment. Mel had thought to punish her with such a forceful display and yet it only made her body cry out for more. His other hand roamed over her body, gripping flesh as his mouth continued to assault the softness beneath him. His original thought process backfired on him, for as soon as he touched her lips, his body roared to life with such force that he shook from it as he drank from her lips with a hunger that bordered on insanity.
The gem’s custodian moaned softly against him and wondered what she was doing. Her mission, duty, destiny all faded away into nothingness as he took up every emotional space she had with his body roughly pressed against hers. She could feel him hard against her hip and she knew this show of force was just that, a show.
Her body, stiff at first, softened, leaned into his and fueled the raging lust he already felt. As Mel ground his hardness into her hip, he deepened the kiss. His one hand massaged her scalp while the other moved to cup her breast, the tip already hard under his fingers. He growled deep in his throat at her eager response, berated himself for the stupidity of what he was doing yet unable to stop. Her scent enveloped him, invaded his senses and stirred his desires.
She tried to understand all that was happening and how her body seemed to respond better than her mind. She left her arm still plastered to the floor before her hand slid to his back. She could feel his corded muscles as they flexed against her, touched her body and set it aflame. Lust, desire ripped through every shred of her being. His hardness tantalized and teased her. She could feel her own juices pooling between her legs in response, her stomach clenched in anticipation and promise of what was to come. He took her breath away with his kiss, her body shivered to the sound of his growl, responded to him in ways she never dreamed possible. Her nipples taut, strained as her entire being gave in to the feelings he elicited from her, feelings she did not think she would ever have and for this one moment in time, she relinquished herself to this pleasure.
Her compliance urged him on. Mel kneaded her breast before he flicked his thumb over the hard tip, satisfied as she arched into his hand. Slowly he ground his hips against hers, let her feel his hardness, the intense force of his desire for her. He wanted to devour every inch of her soft, lush body until he was sure they were both sated and spent. Releasing her lips, his tongue trailed down her neck, dipped into the curve of her collarbone.
Azamel nipped and suckled on her flesh, tasted her soft skin. Resting on his elbow he moved his hand down the nape of her neck to her back, pressing between her shoulder blades as he lifted her chest to his waiting mouth. His lips closed over a hard nipple, sucking on her through the thin fabric of her shirt. The deep moans escaping his throat rippled over her flesh as his teeth scraped over her taut tip. His breath became as erratic as hers and his head swam from the intense pleasure.
Clarissa could not help but squirm under him, rubbing herself against his hard body she almost swooned from pure ecstasy. Intense, erotic, blissful, none of these adequately described the feelings that radiated throughout her, burned her skin and boiled her blood. She hissed in air, gasped as he touched her body that was rapidly becoming extremely sensitive to his. She arched herself into his mouth, guided by his hand on her back. Shifting slightly, she let him peruse her body for all she could manage was to clutch onto him. Emotions swam through her and she delved into feeling only this moment, only him.
Closing her eyes to the intensity, her mind brought up the vision of his desire for the stone. The guardian’s eyes snapped open as comprehension dawned on her. Despite how erotically wonderful this felt, his body against her, her body begging for his, she knew, she knew that he was using her to get the gem. Everything in that moment fell into place and she wanted to weep at the realization. But she would not give him the satisfaction.
She let her anger and her sexual frustration build and she used her wolf strength to push him back. Once he was off of her she rolled to a standing position her arm outstretched, her palm up in a stay back gesture. “Nice move,” she growled. “I know you want the stone but I am not that easy of prey.” Clarissa caught her breath and slowly stood fully erect. “I admit I did not see that coming.”
Azamel skidded across the floor as she jumped up and assumed a defensive position. Frowning at her, his mind gradually registered her words and actions. Rage, blinding in its intensity clouded his mind as he realized what she accused him of. Slowly he rose to tower over her, his demeanor suspiciously calm as he addressed her, his harsh breathing all that betrayed of his inner turmoil. “You think that was all an act, a way to get you to give up the stone?”
He had to use every bit of self-control to not snap her neck right there as disappointment overwhelmed him. Mel thought for the first time in as long as he could remember he would feel the pleasure of another, feel the warmth of someone that knew what he was and not have it matter to them but it was all a lie! His body shivered at the effort it took to keep from ending her life. “You are the blindest person I have ever met and given my age, Sweetheart, that speaks volumes. You want to get yourself killed? You don’t want my help? You just got your wish.” With a wave of his hand, Mel sent her back to her home in New Orleans.
Only when she was gone did he liberate the violent storm that raged inside of him. He needed to unleash the tempest that she had caused so easily. Mel flashed to his dungeon and the chamber of wicked creatures he had captured through the eons. He grabbed the whip from the demon torturing the sick fuck they threw in here a century before. Shock registered on the guard’s face before he left in haste.
The look on the executioner’s face promised dismemberment to any stupid enough to cross him at this moment. He let loose his fury at the demon hung from chains, his body released the rage he felt towards Clarissa on the creature sent here for his crimes against humanity. The beating and torment continued as the floor became stained in the creature’s blood and Mel’s sweat. After what seemed like forever Mel stopped, his limbs ached from the exertion, his lungs burned. With dead eyes Mel looked at the creature that had peeled the skin from his victims and laughed whi
le he ate it in front of them, now limp from the punishment he received at the executioner’s hand. Unable to dredge up sympathy for him as Mel remembered why he was originally brought here. He tossed the whip aside and left the room, instructing the guard to get rid of the mess made of the being inside.
Azamel flashed to his room and into a shower, trying to wash the scent of Clarissa away. Afterwards, he felt more in control of his emotions. The dead stoicism has returned and he wandered towards the grand hall deep in thought. So lost in his plans he subconsciously found himself in the room Clarissa had used. It drew him like a magnet, a strong pull to something of her, even if it was just the lingering essence of her presence. In pure frustration, Mel rubbed his hand over his face before he looked up to notice her backpack still on the floor. He growled deep within his throat as he looked up at the ceiling out of sheer frustration and cursed. “You are the cruelest fucking bitches every created.”
He continued to rant at the Fates for their constant intervention as he picked the bag up and was immediately assaulted by her scent. Mel’s body reacted instantaneously and that set him off on another round of expletives about body parts that appeared to have a mind of their own. Sighing finally at what he had to do, Mel first checked to be certain the dagger is still inside. ‘Why would it not be? If it were not, it would only give her another reason to call me a user and liar, so best to be sure.’
Making sure the backpack was secure and the dagger sheathed inside, Mel traced Clarissa’s essence and frowned as he sensed her back in the jungle. Hating the bad feeling that washed over him, Mel teleported to the jungle to materialize by her side and in front of the ugliest mother fucking demon he had seen in a long
Chapter Four
Clarissa jumped back when Azamel who suddenly appeared beside her, ready to attack this new threat. When she realized it was him, she was stunned. She had felt betrayed by him when he sent her to her apartment in New Orleans, surprised he even knew where her home was located. She had collapsed to the floor and wept softly once she comprehended what he had done. She failed yet again.