Damien's Promise: A Dark Romantic Suspense (VENGEANCE Book 1)

by Vic Tyler

  “That’s awfully optimistic. I might be able to think ahead of some people, like Jura, but I don’t know if I can ever out–think you.”

  “That’s why we practice. So you can learn my idiosyncrasies and use them against me.”

  My nose scrunches up. “You make it sound so ominous.”

  He smiles, and his eyes flicker with the orange reflection of the flames next to us. “It’s the smart thing to do.”

  “It’s just a game of chess.” I roll my eyes. “Not life or death.”

  He doesn’t say anything else, mysterious as always.

  After we finish cleaning up, we talk. I excitedly catch him up on everything that’s happened over the past couple of weeks at school with Jenny and my other friends and at home with the deviants.

  When I stifle a yawn, he orders me to go to bed, and I pout.

  He’s been so busy it’s hard to tell when I can see him next, but he promises we’ll talk again soon.

  “Before I go,” I say, reaching into my pocket. “I wanted to give this to you.”

  He looks curiously at the little wooden oval that I drop onto his palm.

  The outside is smooth and flat with a shakily scripted ‘W’ etched on it, made from African Blackwood. No matter how much I practiced carving it out, I couldn’t get it to look elegant and clean.

  The inside of the pendant is a coffee brown color with beautiful black swirls from the Bocote wood I procured months ago. A braid of my thick, dark hair encircles the empty space, encased behind a thin sheet of polycarbonate plastic.

  “I know you probably don’t get lonely, but in case you do, you’ll always have a piece of me with you.” Even though I try to keep my voice steady, my self–consciousness seeps through.

  God, I probably sound so needy and egocentric.

  The only reason I can look directly at West is because he’s still staring at the locket. I didn’t want to assume he’d wear it, so I didn’t put it on a chain, although there is an eyelet for it.

  A nervous, high–pitched laugh stutters out of me. “That’s polycarb, by the way. It’s pretty much bulletproof, although I’d prefer if you didn’t test it.”

  The silence draws on, making me feel more awkward by the second.

  “I’ll get going now,” I mumble as I stand.

  I nearly jump when he stands too, and we walk to the door without a single word.

  Before I slip through the secret entrance, West suddenly cups my head with a gentle touch as he presses his whiskery face to my forehead.

  My heart pounds from the surprise. It’s a soft, leathery kiss, and his beard tickles me, but I don’t move.

  Partially because I’m stunned but also because I’m busy etching it into my memory. This is the first West has ever been so affectionate.

  “Thank you,” he murmurs so quietly I almost didn’t hear him.

  There’s a melancholic tenderness in his expression that makes my heart ache a little bit.

  I nod, hesitating in the doorway.

  I want to hug him, but I don’t know if I should. Maybe he’d find it too emotional and awkward.

  After saying good night, I replay what just happened repeatedly in my head as I walk absentmindedly down the hallway and up the stairs.

  My face still itches from where his beard touched it, but I don’t scratch it.

  I should’ve hugged him.

  As I turn the corner, I slam into something massive and firm and stumble back. Something wraps around my arm, stopping me from falling.

  Rubbing my flattened nose, I blink to find Kaden steadying me with a boyish grin on his face. “Whoa there.”

  He’s been busy over the past couple of days since he got here, so I haven’t had many chances to talk to him. It seems like he’s working harder than any of the Twelve normally do, and he’s out all the time.

  I’m eager to get to know him. He can tell me all about New York and the east coast, along with what his friends in the eastern faction are like.

  Helping me stand upright, he chuckles. “You walk so quietly I couldn’t tell you were there. Maybe someone should install mirrors for these corners.”

  I laugh, imagining those domed lids in the convenience stores hanging on these elegant walls. “Then how would I sneak around at night?”

  He arches an eyebrow. “And where are you sneaking off to?” He eyes the staircase where I just came from. “Or from?”

  “Hmm,” I murmur. I was going to go back to my room, but I don’t want to tell him I came from West’s. “I’m heading to the Twelves quarter.”

  Kaden seems nice, but I still don’t know him that well.

  Besides maybe Turan and Damien, no one knows about West’s and my secret fireplace chats. I’ve never told them, and I doubt West has too, but they’re both pretty sharp, so I wouldn’t be surprised.

  “To see Damien?” A strange glint in Kaden’s eyes gives me pause.

  Now that my nose doesn’t feel funky anymore, I take in a deep breath.

  Kaden smells clean but not in the way Damien does. Damien smells like soap and Damien.

  But Kaden doesn’t seem to have a distinct smell. He smells more like a hospital. Kind of like bleach.

  Damien’s reaction to Kaden when we first met flashes through my mind.

  Well, Kaden’s going to stay with us for the next year, so it’s better not to give the newcomer any ammunition to tease or harass Damien. He gets enough of that from everyone else here.

  “Nah,” I say nonchalantly, shrugging sheepishly. “I wanted to talk to Kitty about some boys at school.”

  Kaden’s pale eyes study me like he’s trying to unravel my words.

  I’d say I’ve gotten to be a pretty good liar. Not that I’m bragging about it, but I’ve learned some tricks since I spend so much time around all these sharp, intuitive people.

  Don’t get me wrong! I don’t do it often, but sometimes I need an extra guilt–free cheesecake after studying for a hard exam.

  “You can always come to me for advice.” Kaden chirps with a wide smile. “I know what teenage boys are like, first–hand.” He winks. “They’re pretty simple.”

  I giggle. “These boys are a little different.”

  He smiles warmly. “How so?”

  I pause, angling my head thoughtfully. “Well, I guess it’s more like you’re different.”

  He mimics my head tilt. “What do you mean?”

  “You endured the Blood Trials, didn’t you?” For some reason, I was under the impression he did. He just gives off a familiar vibe to Damien, Kitty, and Jura that I can’t quite put my finger on, and he looks about their age. Not to mention, he must be important if he came to train here. “Don’t deviants stop going to civilian schools by then?”

  I’m starting to feel stupider by the second. Maybe it was just presumptuous of me. Or is it different for the other factions?

  Kaden doesn’t say anything immediately. The smile on his face doesn’t change, but his eyes seem sharper as he studies me.

  “You’re right,” he finally responds, perking his head back up again. “Funny you know that.”

  I startle when I see Damien suddenly appear from around the corner, a couple feet behind Kaden.

  He’s expressionless, but I can tell he’s tense.

  I resist sighing. He and Kaden aren’t going to get along very well, are they?

  “Adriana, what are you doing here?”

  “I, uh, was going to see Kitty.” My words stumble clumsily out of my mouth. I almost said the truth, but I remembered the lie I just told Kaden.

  “It’s late,” Damien says flatly.

  “Oh, is it?” I laugh, playing dumb. “Didn’t realize how late it got. I should go sleep since I have school tomorrow.”

  “I’ll walk you.” Damien keeps his eyes on me. “I have to go see Isla anyway.”

  My eyebrows stitch together worriedly. “Are you hurt?”

  “No.”

  That’s all he offers, and Kaden looks at me with
a smile.

  To my surprise, he lays his hand on my head and softly ruffles it.

  Behind him, Damien stiffens.

  “See you later,” he says cheerfully.

  I blink and nod, waving goodbye as Kaden passes me to go downstairs.

  Only when Kaden disappears from sight does Damien relax.

  “Come on.” He motions with his head. “It’s past your bedtime.”

  I pout and jokingly argue, knowing I’m being childish. But Damien doesn’t seem to be in the mood, although he smiles and gives appropriate responses.

  It’s just as hard to see Damien now as when he was in Phoenix, which sucks. West must be keeping him busy even though he’s probably tired. Maybe I should ask West to give Damien a break.

  When we arrive at my room, I invite him to come in.

  A flash of doubt crosses his face, which doesn’t recede much when I explain that I want to give him something.

  It’s as good a time as any to give him his locket.

  As soon as we enter, I go to my bedside drawer to get his gift.

  Unlike West’s, I added a thin leather cord to it. Because… I want Damien to keep a piece of me with him all the time.

  The cord’s a little on the longer side, and my face heats up when I think about the locket lying right over his heart.

  Damien is cautiously but curiously looking around, and the realization that we’re alone in my room together hits me.

  He looks puzzled when I hold out the locket, and his fingers brush against my palm when he picks it up, sending jolts of electricity across my skin.

  Like West, his face is impassive as he studies it. First, the large, clumsily scripted ‘D’ on the front and then the lock of hair inside.

  I mumble my little speech again, and Damien closes his fingers around the locket, squeezing it tightly.

  When he looks at me, his face softens with a genuine yet solemn smile.

  It makes me wonder if I did something wrong. Why do both these men find it so sad when I meant for it to be happy?

  “Thanks.” My heart skips when he slips it over his head. His long fingers pick it up as he looks at it again, but I can’t tell what he’s thinking. “It’ll be a little piece of home.”

  My pulse races, thumping in my ears. I giggle, giddy and nervous.

  “Yeah, for whenever you’re away.” My smile splits widely. “But you’re home now.”

  When his expression neutralizes, a heavy sinking feeling twists my stomach.

  “Adriana,” he starts slowly. “I’m going to New York.”

  My heart stops. “What?”

  The muscles in his jaw tick. “I’m West’s representative for the factional exchange.”

  No. He can’t be.

  “Did he tell you to go?” I burst out.

  My chest feels like it’s going to explode.

  He’s leaving? When he just came back?

  Squeezing my eyes shut, I anxiously rub my forehead. Think. Think. “I’ll talk to West. I’ll tell him —”

  “Adriana.”

  Something in Damien’s voice makes me freeze. My body feels heavy with the words he hasn’t said yet

  Don’t.

  Please don’t say it.

  “I’m going because I want to.” He exhales heavily. “I need to.”

  “Why?” It hurts everywhere. Not just my heart. Everything hurts. “Why are you leaving me again?”

  My voice whines and cracks, making me angry. I hate that I sound like a kid.

  His eyebrows twitch as his jaw clenches. Sighing, he runs his hand through his unruly black hair.

  When he looks at me again, there’s a resolve in his expression that I already know I won’t be able to break.

  “It has nothing to do with you, Adriana,” he says firmly. “If I want to be taken seriously, I have to go.”

  The pressure builds up inside my head.

  What?

  If he wants to be taken ‘seriously’?

  “To become the Cardinal?” My voice rises, aghast. “To kill West?”

  When he doesn’t answer, a sob escapes me.

  No. No, no, no.

  My trembling hands reach out and clutch his shirt, and I bury my face in his chest, trying to hide the tears burning my eyes. “You can’t, Damien. You can’t kill him. Please.”

  He gently but firmly wraps his hands around mine, trying to tug me off him. “You don’t understand, Adriana.”

  “What don’t I understand?” Tightening my grip, I look up. His face is only a couple inches away, and even through my teary blurred vision, I can see the agony and confusion plaguing him. “I know neither of you has to die. I know you don’t have to kill him. I know he wouldn’t ever kill you. And I know both of you lived thinking you have to do this, but you don’t. I know you don’t.”

  His hands tighten around mine. “We do.”

  “Please, Damien,” I beg. My cheeks are streaked with hot tears. “Don’t leave me. Don’t kill him. For me. I can’t bear to lose either of you.”

  Suddenly, Damien’s arms crush my body to his, knocking the wind out of my lungs. The heat of his breath sears my scalp as he buries his face in my hair.

  “I’m sorry, Adriana.”

  He’s hugging me so tightly that it hurts, but this pain is the only comfort against my heart breaking.

  “Damien,” I sob, his name repeatedly falling from my lips. “Damien, please.”

  He shudders with a shaky, silent breath, squeezing me tighter for a few more moments before he finally lets go.

  Pulling away, he deflates, looking defeated, unable to look me in the eyes.

  He’s in pain, but he’s still doing this. Mistakenly bound to what he thinks is his duty and obligation.

  But if he goes through with it, he’ll regret it. It’ll weigh on him. It’ll be a burden for him to forever bear.

  I might lose him.

  I might lose Damien.

  My hands gently cup his face, and his gaze slides to mine as I tiptoe, the confusion unmistakable as I lean in and kiss him.

  Neither of us close our eyes, and his widen, remaining round even as I pull away and steady myself on my feet.

  “Damien —”

  A torrent of emotions floods his face, and all the muscles in his body tighten. Turmoil radiates from him, thickening the heavy aura around us.

  I panic in equally intense confusion, and when I reach out, he immediately steps back.

  I freeze from shock before the pain blows through my chest.

  So this is what rejection feels like.

  His mouth is slightly slack, like he can’t believe what just happened, and his crystal blue eyes are wildly large as they search mine with absolute agony like his world is crashing down.

  Maybe it is.

  Did he really just see me as a sister?

  Did I ruin the very foundation of our friendship?

  “Damien.” My voice shakes weakly.

  His hand tentatively rises to his mouth, still in disbelief, before sliding farther up and raking his fingers through his hair, gripping a fistful of it.

  Closing his eyes, he takes a deep breath. “Shit.”

  He whips away from me, wiping his hand over his face.

  “Damien,” I squeak. “Please. I–I really like you. I have for a long time. And–and I care about you. I don’t want to lose you. Or West.”

  When he turns back around, his expression is simmering with barely restrained anger.

  “You can’t just kiss me because you want something from me.” He exhales in frustration as he squeezes the bridge of his nose. “You shouldn’t be doing that at all. Jesus. Did Kitty put you up to this?”

  “No!”

  When I take another step forward, he instantly moves back. My heart aches painfully, and my expression must show it because his fills with guilt. But he doesn’t come any closer.

  “No. I’m serious. Damien, I —” I swallow hard. “I like you. M–maybe I even lo—”

  “Stop,
” he cuts in harshly, holding up his hand. “No, Adriana. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  All my words vaporize into thin air.

  I don’t know what I’m talking about?

  The indignation sets in. “What’s that supposed to mean? You don’t know how I feel.”

  “You’re fifteen, Adriana,” he says like that’s enough of an explanation. “You’re —” His voice falters. “You’re too young. You’re emotional. Hormonal. It’s just a… a crush.”

  Anger starts to boil in my veins, burning me from the inside out. “And you know better? What do you know about how it feels like to like someone? Have you ever liked anyone?”

  He opens his mouth to answer before shutting it with a snap. “No, but that’s beside the point.”

  “Then what, Damien?” I scoff. “Are you just trying to dismiss my feelings, so you don’t have to deal with them?”

  His mouth opens again, but nothing comes out. For the first time ever, he looks dumbfounded and lost.

  “If you don’t feel the same way, you can just say so.” The backs of my eyes start to burn, but I refuse to let any tears fall this time. “But I’m serious, and I know what I want and who I like. So don’t you dare tell me otherwise.”

  After a long moment of silence, he exhales, rubbing his face. “You’re right. Sorry. I shouldn’t have. I —”

  He stops, and the silence that follows tears me apart.

  Looking up, Damien clenches his jaw, his gaze steady and hard.

  His voice evens. “I’m sorry, Adriana.”

  Even though I knew it the moment he stepped away from me, hearing those words shatters my heart.

  My knees even wobble, but I keep myself steady.

  “I care about you, but —” He falters. “But not like that. You’re… You’re like a little sis—”

  “No!” I clap my hands over my ears. “Don’t. Don’t say it. I’m not your sister, Damien. So stop trying to see her in me.”

  His face flashes with pain. “I —”

  But he doesn’t finish his sentence. He doesn’t know what to say.

  The room fills with silence.

  “I’m going to go,” he finally says quietly. “I think it’s best that I leave.”

  I nod without another word, and he swiftly turns and walks away.