Immortal

by ML Guida

  There was a reason why she couldn’t kill him. God, she was a mess. “I don’t remember where he is. He said he would come get me after I kill you.”

  He snapped his fingers and a gold locket with a diamond cross appeared on his fingers. In the center of the cross was a red ruby in the shape of a heart. She’d seen nothing so breath-taking. “It’s…beautiful.”

  His face darkened. “This is a Heaven Cross. Christ blessed it. In the middle of the cross is a drop of his Most Precious Blood. Anyone tainted with evil will be compelled to tell the truth. It will drive you mad unless you take me to him.”

  He wrapped his arm around her waist and pinned her to him. Fear scurried up her spine. She didn’t want this thing on her and pushed his granite chest. “Let go of me.”

  “I’m sorry. It’s the only way.” He lifted the necklace and dropped it around her neck. “I will drive this evil from you. Hell can’t have you.”

  Agony sizzled into her skin. She screamed. “Get it off me. It hurts.”

  Scythe held her wrist. “No.” He kissed her forehead.

  Some of the pain diminished.

  “Hell’s evil is fighting it.” He brushed his thumb over her wrist, sending warmth through her. “Evil cannot win. Good will always triumphant. Trust in me. Trust in Him.”

  A growing heat formed in the pit of her stomach as if acid churned inside her. “My stomach.”

  He tightened his hold. “The evil is rebelling. Hang on to me and close your eyes. The pain will pass. I promise.”

  She had no choice but to trust him. The pain intensified, and she doubled over. He gently cradled her in his arms and each time she inhaled, his masculine scent filled her with peace.

  He recited something in a foreign tongue she did not recognize. Was it Latin? His words grew stronger and the pain in her stomach lessened. The necklace and cross cooled and warmth spread through her. She lifted her head. “Blade, his name is Blade.”

  He stopped chanting. His lips curled into a smile. “I knew you could do it.” He molded her close to him and his beard chaffed her cheek. “Say it loud and clear. Now.”

  The wind whipped around her, whirling her hair in her face. Her vision blurred. What was happening? She lifted off the ground, but he held her close and she knew she wouldn’t fall.

  “I’ve got you.”

  “I know.”

  She didn’t know why, but she trusted him.

  The howling ceased. She dropped onto the ground and stumbled. The fresh smell of wild flowers breezed over her, but she couldn’t make out the colors, just the silhouettes of columbine and daisies. Warm lights glowed from a cabin, but it was the man who climbed out of a chair that chilled her breath.

  “I told you to kill him.”

  The acidic voice stirred terror in her belly, but as fast it flared, the faster it diminished. She reached for the necklace and calmness washed over her. Scythe winked at her and she couldn’t help but smile.

  The outline of a man stood on a cabin’s deck. She couldn’t see his face, except for his glowing red eyes. Blade?

  He glared. “Get that abomination off your neck.”

  She didn’t want to rip off the necklace, but her hand clasped the chain as if to break it.

  “Leave the necklace on. Christ’s Most Precious Blood will protect you. Have faith.”

  She lowered her hand and looked, but he wasn’t looking at her. Who had said that? Was it inside her head or was someone else here? But she saw no one but the two frowning men.

  Miller moths fluttered at the porch light. She frowned. She knew this place. The glass patio door opened and a tall blond woman stepped outside. She pressed her body against Blade. Who was she? Her aura was muddy brown, but Heather knew the woman’s aura had always shone yellow, full of inspiration and intelligence. How did she know that? A name tugged at her mind—an S name—Stephanie, Shirley—a piercing bullet pain shot through the side of her head, and she rubbed her pounding temples.

  She clamped her jaw shut tight. Wait, a minute. Susan, that’s it.

  Blade held a plastic bag with black dust inside. “You want this?

  Her fear faded. Lust rose inside her, blocking out the agony in her tummy. The necklace grew hotter. She licked her lips. Every pore screamed to experience the high, the euphoria that drove away the pain, the fear, the guilt.

  “False. It’s a lie. Find yourself.”

  The same commanding voice slammed into her brain, but it was stronger, powerful.

  Blade shook the contents back and forth like a pendulum. “All you have to do is kill the bastard.”

  Ignoring the desire, she listened to the voice and shook her head. “No!”

  He snapped his fingers, and another dagger appeared in her hand. She clasped the hard handle. Was she imagining it or did the knife vibrate?

  “Stab him anywhere and he’ll die.” He lifted the bag higher. “And all of this will be yours.”

  Scythe’s cheek twitched, and he narrowed his eyes at Blade. “Don’t do this, brother.”

  The voice forgotten, she gripped the dagger tighter and jumped to her feet. “Forgive me, but I need it.”

  Scythe looked at her with pity. “You can fight this. For us.”

  “There is no us. Stop playing with my mind.” She couldn’t forget his kiss. The necklace and cross seemed to melt into her skin. A war went through her mind. A blinding headache gripped her. All she wanted was the pain to stop. She glared at Scythe. “If I kill you, the pain will go away.”

  “Tsk. Tsk. Dear brother,” Blade said. “Have yourself a situation here with your angel-mate?”

  “Angel-mate?” Heather lowered the knife.

  “Remember,” the same voice urged, but it was softer, loving.

  She stared at Scythe. She remembered kissing his lips, his calloused hands caressing her body, and his cock thrusting inside, giving her the most sinful orgasm she’d ever had. Her face reddened. But it wasn’t just the sex. He risked his life for her, saved her dog, and rescued her.

  Scythe lifted her chin, his fingers caressing her skin. “That’s it, fight it.”

  Warmth spread through her, and she wanted him to hold her, to kiss her.

  “Oh, I don’t think so.” Blade shook the bag.

  Heather studied Blade. With his sly grin, Blade reminded her of an addict about to kill for his next fix.

  “Don’t you remember who this man is?” he asked.

  “Blade,” Scythe warned.

  Goose bumps broke out on Heather’s arms and her hands turned clammy. The rough handle slipped through her fingers and fell onto the ground.

  “Don’t be an idiot, Heather,” Blade said. “He ruined your life.”

  Rosemary. He was talking about Rosemary. Scythe had something to do with her death. She snatched the dagger off the ground and aimed it at Scythe. This sucked. All of her memories had been creamed into a blender.

  “Still can’t remember, honey,” Blade sneered. “He’s the one who offed your precious sister. Feel like killing him now?”

  The memory slammed into her. “You bastard.” Without hesitation, she rushed Scythe, the knife raised high.

  “Shit.” Scythe grabbed her wrist and spun her around, slamming her back against his hard chest. He strapped his arm around her waist.

  “Let go of me.” She pounded her heels into his shins and stomped on his feet.

  “Ah, I don’t think you have enough to keep you busy, brother.” Blade tossed the plastic bag into the air and caught it. “Susan, this is the last bag of Xanadu.”

  Blade stared at Heather, a dark shadow fell across his face, his hot coal eyes burned brighter. “If you kill the bitch, you can have it.”

  “Bless it, Blade,” Scythe growled.

  Heather clasped the handle tighter. She wanted the bag. The drug was hers, but his strong fingers pried the blade out of her hand, then tossed it behind them.

  “You bastard! It’s mine.”

  Scythe clutched her shoulders and shook her. �
��Listen to me. You’ve got to be strong.”

  “Xanadu is mine, bitch.” Susan lifted her head high as if she’d already won the prize.

  Susan’s high heels crunched the leaves and twigs. She snatched a fat aspen log off the ground and gripped it with both hands. The glow of the porch light hit her face, revealing a jack-o-lantern smile. “You’re dead, whore.”

  Blade limped behind her, holding another dagger in his hand.

  Heather fumbled on the ground for a rock—anything, but her fingers slipped through stabbing pine needles. Fuck, Susan! Xanadu belonged to her.

  The cross burned her flesh, and she grabbed it, but it was red hot. “Ow!”

  Ignoring the agony, she gave into the lust. Xanadu was hers. She rushed toward the pile of wood stacked on the deck.

  “Heather, no,” Scythe called. “Get your ass back here.”

  Not listening to him, Heather ran a big circle around Susan who changed mid-stride and lurched after her. Heather darted onto the deck and rolled. A whisk of air flew over her head.

  “It’s mine, slut,” Susan said.

  Heather snagged a log off the pile.

  Hard clicks across the wooden deck stalked her. “Die, bitch!”

  Susan raised the log high over her head and swung. Heather blocked her thrust, but the log cracked. Pain rippled up her arm.

  She scooted away. She couldn’t stand unless she wanted Susan to split her melon open.

  Scythe hurried toward her. “Shit, I’m coming!”

  Blade blocked his path and laughed. “Oh, I think you’re going to busy with me, dear brother.”

  Chapter 19

  Uneasiness swept over Scythe. The darkness grew blacker as if someone in heaven had turned off the stars and the porch light dimmed, casting an eerie glow on Heather’s and Susan’s bodies, reminding him of the silhouetted naked woman on semi-trucks’ flanks. What did horny men call women fighting? Cat fight?

  Blade wielded a knife, then lurched at him.

  Scythe easily stepped out of his way. “Not feeling so hot, brother.”

  Blade wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. “Shut up.”

  The smell of roses and sulfur permeated the air—Heaven’s scent. Scythe relaxed. A slow smile spread across his face. The scent of roses grew stronger. Balthazar was losing. “Gee, what a shocker, Balthazar didn’t zap in here and heal your ass.”

  “I said shut up.” Blade wheezed, then toppled onto his knees and hung his head. “He’ll be here.”

  “I wouldn’t bet on it.”

  “Die, witch.” Susan swung at Heather, missing her by inches.

  His heart panicked. She had to be careful, damn careful.

  Heather’s foot caught on a chair and she sprawled out onto the deck. The pine log flew out of her hand and smacked into the porch light. Glass shattered. Scythe scanned the deck, but only ghostly moon rays shadowed the porch. Where the hell is she?

  A hard thump hit wood. A woman cried out, but he couldn’t tell which. “Heather,” he yelled. “Answer me, for Heaven’s sake.”

  Another loud wallop turned his stomach upside down. He clenched his fist tighter around the handle. A dark shape loomed over a crumpled shadow on the ground. “It’s mine.”

  The voice was thick, and it didn’t even sound human.

  The shadow lunged and the other shape kicked, knocking the shadow to the ground. Two black silhouettes rolled. Clothing ripped. The sound of punches and grunts turned Scythe’s gut into a triple knot.

  “I’ll fucking kill you,” Heather panted.

  “Take that, bitch,” Susan spat.

  Heather groaned. Scythe sucked in his breath. If Heather murdered her friend with her bare hands… No way. It wasn’t happening.

  “Who will have the last laugh now, brother?” Blade chuckled. He lifted his head and pushed himself off the ground. He faced Scythe.

  “Ladies, only the survivor gets the spoils.”

  “It’s…mine,” Heather growled.

  “Over…my…dead…body.”

  Shrieks, clawing, tearing, and hitting and slapping of flesh scraped Scythe’s frayed nerves. Shit, it sounded like two cats fighting.

  “Raphael!” he shouted. “I need you now.”

  The dead light stars remained motionless, watching him. Black clouds hovered near the moon and slivered over it, then blanketed the light. A cold breeze rustled the trees. For Heaven’s sake, Raphael, where the heaven are you?

  Blade snarled. “What the hell are you doing?”

  “Time’s up, brother.”

  He tilted his head. “Yes, your mate is getting ripped apart.”

  The triumphant in his brother’s voice fired every urge in Scythe to cut out his black heart, but he took a deep breath, keeping his feet planted. He refused to do it. Blade was his brother. Period.

  “Raphael, get your ass over here,” Scythe yelled again. What was he doing now? Going on a tour through Edinburgh Castle?

  “What’s wrong? You piss off the Archangel. Think he’s your pet dog to control?”

  “Something you don’t know, Blade. Michael plans to send the dogs out on you.”

  “Like I give a shit. It’s not like I’m fighting alone.”

  “Really?” He peered behind his brother’s back. “I don’t see anyone backing you.”

  Heather cried.

  Scythe’s world stopped. She was hurt. He lowered his knife.

  Blade leaped for him and sliced Scythe’s hand. Agony pierced Scythe again, and he jerked his hand. He dropped his dagger. He clamped his mouth shut. Stupid mistake. What was he thinking? Even wounded, Blade was still lethal.

  “Getting a little senile in your old age,” Blade said. “Sounds like your girl is losing.”

  He charged and slashed Scythe’s shoulder. The dagger cut deep. Agony tore through Scythe. His arm hung useless at his side. Scythe clenched his fist and swung. He hit his brother square in the mouth, and Blade flung backward.

  “Now, who’s old,” Scythe muttered. His hand shaking, he ripped the blade out of his shoulder and threw it onto the ground. Pain throbbed, and he grimaced.

  The clouds moved and a glowing light shone on Blade. He rubbed his jaw. “Should we try this the old-fashioned way?”

  Scythe braced himself. “Let’s do it.”

  Blade circled him. “You don’t stand a chance.”

  “Quit stalling,” Scythe heaved. Pain pulsed through him, but he wasn’t done yet.

  Blade threw a punch and smacked him in the jaw. He staggered and blood flowed in his mouth. He righted himself then jabbed a right hitting his brother smack in the stomach. Blade bent over, holding his gut. Scythe knocked him flat on his back.

  Covering his nose with his hand, Blade clamored to his feet. “You will pay for that one.” Blade roared and charged. An angry bull elephant, he hit Scythe hard, flattening him to the ground. His shoulder slammed onto a jagged rock. Scythe lost his breath and bit back a groan.

  Blade landed on top of him. He pounded his fists into his face. Blood seeped into Scythe’s mouth. His eyes swelled shut. He arched his back, but only lifted Blade into the air. Blade slammed back down on to his chest. Scythe sucked in his breath. Blade grabbed his hair and smashed the back of head onto the ground. “I will bash your brains into angel gore.”

  Somehow power surged through Scythe and he shoved his brother’s hands off his head. His head rang and his vision blurred, but he swore there was a dark silhouette of a man behind him. Michael or Raphael? Fear bore into him. “Who are you? Say something.”

  “How about I’m killing you and then your mate?”

  “Hello, Blade.”

  The last voice Scythe wanted to hear. “Michael.”

  Blade jumped off him and whirled around. He darted to his feet and put his hands up, his palms facing Michael. “Stay away from me.”

  At least he had the good sense to fear Michael. No one, no one wanted to tangle with the Dark Angel.

  Scythe struggled to sit, nearly pass
ing out from the pain. “Where’s Raphael?”

  “Momentarily detained.” Michael stepped closer toward Blade. “What’s wrong, Blade? Not big man on campus anymore. Where are your buddies?”

  Blade backed away. “They’re-they’re coming.”

  “Really? Doesn’t look like it. Your teammates left you holding the ball.”

  More female shrieks echoed a few feet away.

  “They’re getting on my nerves.” Michael snapped his fingers. The fighting ceased, but Scythe could sense Heather’s heartbeat. She was alive, but unconscious. He sighed. At least, Michael hadn’t killed her.

  Scythe stared at Michael’s hand. He clutched the sword Excalibur. It had once been King Author’s sword, but Michael only let him borrow it. Excalibur had always and would always be his. Blue rays gleamed from it, giving off an eerie light. Unlike human paintings, Michael had ebony hair not blond. Tonight, he wore no shirt and had on black leather pants.

  He pointed Excalibur at Blade. “You’ve been a royal pain in the ass.”

  “You locked up Raphael, didn’t you?” Scythe forced himself to stand. He swayed. “How could you?”

  Not taking his eyes off Blade, Michael shrugged. “You had your chance and failed. Blade deserves to be punished.”

  “You mean killed?” Scythe asked.

  “It’s because of you, she’s dead,” Blade screamed.

  Scythe winced. The pain in his brother’s voice hurt as bad as his shoulder. He had to make one more ploy to convince Michael not to kill his traitorous brother. “You’ve cheated.”

  “Cheated?” Michael narrowed his eyes. “I don’t think so. Time’s up.”

  “But you locked up, Raphael,” Scythe said. “You can’t do this.”

  “Ah, yeah I can. What can I say? You lost. I won.”

  Michael approached Blade. His heavy footsteps stomped out Scythe’s hope.

  “You’ll be sorry if you kill me,” Blade cried. “It will be all out war.”

  Scythe glanced at his brother. Was he out of his mind? Michael loved nothing better than killing demons. His favorite pasttime.

  “I’m already sorry I let you live this long.”

  Scythe stumbled into his path.