Samuel led them through an abandoned office building until they reached what used to be a break room. Muriel hadn’t been paying attention to the road, so she had no idea where they were. They had driven about an hour. They were probably still in Texas, but pretty close to the New Mexico border.
Once inside the makeshift doctor’s office, Muriel saw a fit, middle-aged man waiting for them. Judging by his bag of equipment and stethoscope around his neck, he was the doctor. Muriel had never been to the doctor in the five years she’d been living among humanity, but she was pretty sure that most of them didn’t wear leather chaps and steel-toed boots.
She would have protested him treating her, but it hurt to speak, so she figured beggars couldn’t be choosers.
Kier was no beggar, though. “Does this guy even have a medical license? We can just take our chances at the hospital.”
His leg was better but it still hurt to walk on. Making it worse, Muriel leaned on him more than she would’ve liked and the added weight put pressure on his wounds. Even so, that pressure was still less than the ache in her chest.
“Well, you should have thought about the possibility of her getting injured when you bound her to you,” snapped Samuel.
It was just Kier, Samuel, the biker doctor, and her in the room, so Samuel was not holding himself back anymore. “I swear to God, the second I get those cuffs off her, your head is going to be rolling on the ground at my feet.”
Muriel felt the blood rush from her face at the thought. “It’s me who did it. Not him,” she defended weakly.
“Damn it, Muriel. How hard is it to not talk?” said Kier in response to the shot of pain.
In response, she lightly punched his bicep and raised an eyebrow, silently saying, “You don’t want me to express myself physically.”
His lips curled into a subtle smile at the threat.
Samuel obviously missed the playful undertones. “Don’t you talk to her like that, demon!”
The doctor cleared his throat. “I was called here for a reason?”
“This is Muriel, and the monstrosity she’s attached to is a demon. Those handcuffs linked them together somehow so they can feel each other’s pain. She might have some broken ribs and he has a few bullet wounds. We need to help her get better as quickly as possible and get the cuffs off. If we can’t get the cuffs off, we need to help the demon with the pain.”
“It’s nice to know you care.” Kier smirked, which earned another annoyed look from Samuel.
“Okay,” said the doctor. “I see that you like to aim high.” He turned to Muriel. “I’m James. I gather that it hurts to talk?”
Muriel nodded.
“How did she get hurt?” asked James.
“Dumbass over there had his telekinetic witch crash our car,” said Kier.
“Theory number two is that the demon did it,” shot back Samuel.
“It’s theory one,” said Muriel. “Well, not the dumbass part.”
“Stop talking,” said Kier and Samuel in unison. She could see the guilt pass over Samuel’s face at the confirmation of how she was injured.
“How did you even know where we were?” asked Kier. Muriel had wondered the same thing.
“A witch did a locator spell. We were just getting to the hotel you had her at when we saw you shove her into your car. We followed until we could push you into a roadblock, but you were supposed to stop, not go plowing into it.”
James interrupted. “Muriel, I’m going to apply pressure to various areas around your ribs and back. On a scale of one to ten, rate the pain.”
As the doctor’s hands started slowly to torture her, Kier did the talking, or screaming depending on the level of pain. “Fucking ten! Get your hands off her!” was the signal of the end of the test.
James stood back. “Well, the good news is that only one rib is broken. Normally, a good few weeks of bed rest would be the best medicine.”
“We don’t have a few weeks,” said Samuel.
What the hell does that mean? I don’t really have any plans coming up. It was disturbing how rapidly her life had changed in the last few days. She expected Kier to ask, but he remained curiously silent.
“Well, there’s not much that I can offer. I’m only human. He, however,” he motioned to Kier, “could cure her in a heartbeat.”
Kier snorted at the implication as Muriel paled. “It will be a cold day in Hell before she drinks any more of my blood.”
“What the hell do you mean by ‘more’?” asked Samuel.
Muriel’s panic rose as she shot an accusing look at Kier. “He doesn’t know?” asked Kier, honestly shocked.
“Know what?” said an even more agitated Samuel.
She’d never been able to bring herself to admit just how thoroughly she had been defeated that night. Samuel and Ava had been trapped by the demons when Muriel located the small exit they could sneak out of. She promised them she could handle the demons on her own, knowing Samuel had to survive no matter what happened to her. If Ava had not been there, he certainly would have stayed and fought, but he was driven by the need to get his mate to safety.
She didn’t mind dying for Samuel. Besides, her self-sacrifice would result in her getting her wings back.
Samuel and Ava had already been far out of hearing range when the truly savage beating began. They never knew how close she had been to the death she craved.
Then Kier had crushed her.
The defeat made her embarrassed and bitter. Pride was hard enough to get used to, but the idea of wounded pride was a shattering blow to her psyche. She couldn’t bring herself to tell Samuel the full extent of her failure. As far as he knew, she’d barely made it out from the demons alive. Her unscathed appearance was curious, but Samuel was too grateful that everyone was alive to ask how Muriel survived. Instead of confessing what happened, she said her abrupt good-byes and set out on her own.
Kier didn’t have the same qualms as she did. “When she was trying to save your sorry ass five years ago, demons beat the shit out of her until she was within an inch of her life and then forced her to drink their blood as an added humiliation. That way they could ensure that she would never get back into Heaven. You seriously never even said thanks?”
“Kier, stop,” pleaded Muriel, but she could see by the stricken look on Samuel’s face that the damage had been done. “Don’t let him get to you, Samuel.”
“Is he telling the truth?” The silence in the air was answer enough. “How could you have kept this to yourself?”
“It’s not like it’s your fault. Don’t let him make you feel bad. He’s the one who forced his blood on me, so technically he’s the only one who should feel guilty.”
Apparently that was the wrong thing to say because Samuel immediately turned around and punched a hole in the drywall behind him. As he tore his hand from the crumbling drywall, he screamed, “I swear to God, demon, that will be your head one day!”
Kier was unfazed. “I’m shaking,” he dryly replied.
“Only a coward would hide behind a woman.” Samuel was dead serious as he said the words, not realizing how hurtful they were to Muriel.
Before she even spoke to defend herself, Kier stepped in. “This demon isn’t hiding behind anyone. A pissed-off fallen angel kidnapped me and used a spell to suck away my soul. Feel free to remove the handcuffs.”
“What does he mean by stealing his soul?”
“Not stealing as much as destroying.” As if there was really much of a difference. “As long as he’s attached to me, his soul is degrading.” She decided to leave out the part where Kier apparently didn’t believe it was working and was using the bond as an excuse to try to get into her pants.
Samuel calmed down upon hearing this, but he still muttered, “That’s the stupidest thing I ever heard.”
“Well, things weren’t quite going as planned. I was going to cut him loose before we, um, ran into you.”
“She doesn’t need you bitching at her,” asserted
Kier. “We’re out of here. Are you giving us a car or am I stealing one?”
“Kier, would you just cut him some slack for one minute?”
“No. He’s been nothing but a dick to me. He shot me, broke your ribs, and accused me of hiding behind a woman to protect myself. I’m still not sure who should be more insulted by that one—you or me. So, please, let’s go and find some other way to heal you. You can’t possibly consider these people friends.”
~~~~~
Samuel was prone to rage. He knew it and everyone around him knew it. The amount of self-restraint required to keep from punching the demon in the face was monumental. His fist still hurt from punching the wall, yet he couldn’t stop his fingers from clenching in anticipation of feeling the demon’s smug-looking face crunching under his knuckles.
He was a protector by nature. He joined the military to protect the country, and now it was his sole job to protect the world. He couldn’t stand this cocky son of a bitch telling him that not only had he failed to protect Muriel but that he was the reason she was in pain.
He’d never been close to Muriel. She never allowed it. He saw her in brief glimpses throughout his life in times of heightened danger but never spoke to her until the demons came for him five years ago.
He’d known nothing of the underworld, demons, angels, and various other supernatural beings before Muriel. She had protected him through the darkest parts of his life. Even more than that, she’d brought him Ava.
Ava was unlike anyone he had ever met. She knew no fear for men or demons alike and had a staunch moral code. Sure, her moral compass hadn’t always pointed true north, but she made up for it.
Ava had been born in France two hundred years ago during the French Revolution. She had little but was resourceful and smart enough to con and thieve her way to a modestly comfortable existence. At least until she was murdered in her own home by a business owner who was threatened by her sway over his customers.
For her ambiguous nature, she was sentenced to serve two hundred years in Purgatory, assisting the angels in whatever they needed until she proved herself worthy of redemption. Muriel gave her one last mission. Protect Samuel.
Ava protected him, but he protected her as well. Together they traveled the world, researching the meaning behind the prophecy that had brought them together.
Muriel had come to him shortly after Ava had been sent, worried that Samuel and Ava alone were not enough to fight off the demons coming for them. She had been right.
After killing the human who had been sent after him, Muriel had been rendered mortal herself as punishment, though this never seemed to bother her. She was convinced that she would soon be back in Heaven.
Once again, Muriel had saved him when Ava had been taken. Muriel had begged him to let Ava go and keep himself safe, but he knew that he couldn’t go on without Ava. She was his soulmate. Muriel helped him save Ava but had never been the same after that mission. He only saw her once after that night when, a week later, she knocked on his door to say good-bye, refusing to offer any explanation.
He knew that as long as he was being hunted, he couldn’t stay in one spot for long. He made sure that he could contact Muriel by phone and email and let her go.
He assumed she was searching out some way to gain back her status as an angel. It had never occurred to him that she needed his help. He had never considered that she could be driven by vengeance. It seemed like such a human emotion.
It was too much to take in. He couldn’t allow himself to accept that her pain was his fault.
“Muriel, I need you to be straight with me. Do you want my help?”
“Samuel, I really don’t know if you can help me. I was about to release Kier anyway and then I was going back to my life,” she maintained.
“What about the prophecy?” he asked. The demon stiffened at the question. What did he know about it?
“I’m mortal now. There is nothing I can do to protect you,” she said with a sadness poorly hidden behind her eyes. It was a familiar sadness for him. It was the sadness of a former soldier who no longer had the ability to fight during a battle raging around them. How had he never seen this before?
But in this case, the sadness made no sense. “Not that prophecy. The new one. The one that says that you’re going to kill Azazel.”
The demon closed his eyes and rubbed his face in exasperation as Muriel’s jaw dropped. “What are you talking about?”
She has no idea. “You didn’t know.” Samuel turned to the demon. “But you did, didn’t you?”
“I was recently informed,” he said, not denying anything.
“You knew and didn’t tell me?” she asked the demon. If Samuel didn’t know better, he would’ve thought that Muriel was hurt by the omission.
“Can we have this conversation in private?” said the demon.
“No. Tell me now.”
Samuel could tell that her rage simmered just beneath the surface.
“Fine. Even if I had told you that you were wanted, what’s the difference? You knew that demons were after you, so you were already on guard. And I didn’t know until last night when I talked to Teryn, so I couldn’t have warned you before we were attacked.
“If I had told you, there are only two things you could have done. You could run, refusing to even attempt to murder the most dangerous demon who ever existed and live out the rest of your mortal days in relative peace, or the other option. You could actually choose to fight the bastard. What are the chances of surviving that? Believe me, I was doing you a favor.”
“You don’t think I could?” She squared her shoulders, readying herself for a fight.
“You can’t set foot in Hell without bursting into hellfire! Sure, there are ways to get around it. I’ll supply you with as much demon blood as you want to turn your soul so black that you will walk into Hell and not even feel the heat. But is that really what you want?”
They stared each other down in silence. Samuel felt as though he were intruding on a private conversation. James must have agreed as he silently left the room. Samuel didn’t blame him. He didn’t want to be dragged into talk of the apocalypse and prophecies either, but he wouldn’t back out of the room like a coward. Muriel is—well, had been—his guardian angel, and he was sticking with her.
“Who says that she has to go into Hell to kill him? Demons leave Hell all the time.” Samuel knew that it was a pointless question. The prophecy didn’t give much detail, but it explicitly stated that the king would be killed in Hell.
“Azazel likes the power of being king, but he knows the risks,” said the demon. “Demons want him dead to steal his throne and angels want him dead to weaken the power of Hell. To protect himself, he’s hardly left in three centuries. If he knows Muriel is coming for him, I doubt he’ll be leaving anytime soon.”
“What did the prophecy say?” Muriel wrapped her arms around herself best as possible with the handcuffs, but Samuel didn’t know whether she was cold or just uneasy with the revelations. The demon moved in closer to her, and Samuel wasn’t sure whether he did it subconsciously or on purpose. Was it possible that something could be going on between the two of them?
He brushed the idea away. Impossible.
“As usual, the prophecy was vague. It says that the fallen angel with demon blood in her would break into Hell and kill the king.” He chose his words carefully, not wanting to spook her any more than possible.
“I guess there aren’t a lot of fallen angels around right now?” she asked, already knowing the answer.
“A few, but you are the only female,” said Kier. “I’m telling you, don’t feel forced. Prophecy or not, you aren’t a soldier anymore. You can go wherever you want. Do whatever you want. You don’t have to martyr yourself for this.”
The words were spoken intimately into Muriel’s ear. Once again, Samuel couldn’t shake the feeling that they were a couple of lovers as opposed to mortal enemies. But he noticed that the demon had left out a key part of the p
rophecy. The part where the fallen angel was brokenhearted as she forced her way into Hell.
Was it possible that Muriel would let her heart get broken by this demon? The thought disgusted Samuel.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Two hours later, Muriel and Kier were alone again in a motel room. Samuel was escorting her and Kier to find the key to release him, and the caravan had stopped for the night. It was past time to let Kier go. He’d turned her life on its axis even before she had found out about her higher calling.
The prophecy. She was supposed to kill Azazel. In Hell. It didn’t get much more intense than that.
Kier was right. It was a suicide mission. She was a good soldier. She knew how to fight and how to shoot and how to kill demons as efficiently as possible. But this was different.
This was walking into their home turf. There would be thousands all around her. Sure, most of them wouldn’t mind her killing the king, but she would be a threat to all demons if she had the ability to walk among them in their realm.
Threats needed to be exterminated.
That was assuming she even got into Hell, which was a whole other obstacle. Only dark beings were allowed in the Hell dimension, and angels were decidedly light. For her to fight for the light, would she really have to sink down to a demon’s level?
“Stop thinking so much,” said Kier softly, breaking her out of her trance.
“I have a lot to think about,” she defended.
His lips tightened and she could see he wanted to say more. He told her to run. He told her to screw the prophecy and live her life the way she wanted.
It was so tempting. She wasn’t a soldier anymore. She had been kicked out for doing her job and barred from ever reentering the angelic ranks when he had forced his blood down her throat with no consent from her. She’d never done anything wrong. She never deserved the punishments doled out to her, but she never questioned it.
Binding Fire: Paranormal Romance (Bad Boys of the Underworld Book 3) Page 9