“Don’t waste your time looking. He would never want a cold bitch like you!” Neal’s malicious hiss slapped her across the face.
The pain expanding in her chest made it impossible to breathe. Because what Neal said was so true—when it came down to it, Aethan didn’t want her.
The glass rattled on the table where she dropped it. Echo slipped off her stool and hightailed it out of there to the staff restroom. She locked herself in a cubicle, unable to control the hot tears spilling down her face. When she heard the door open several minutes later, she bit her lip to silence her sobs and prayed it was a staff member.
“Echo?”
The low cadence of his voice seeped into her, made her want to open the door and hurl herself into his arms.
She pulled her feet up onto the toilet and buried her face in her knees. Hoping he wouldn’t hear her, hating that the locked door would be no barrier for him.
She didn’t want him to see her like this. Broken.
He rapped on her stall. “Echo, open the door. Please.”
She didn’t answer. A few more minutes passed and she heard the click. The door opened. She didn’t look up, keeping her face hidden. His leather rustled as he crouched in front of her. A hand brushing over her hair made the tears come faster.
“Don’t hide from me, please. It kills me to see you like this.”
Her head snapped up. “I’m not hiding. I need a moment to myself. Can’t I even have that?”
His face darkened.
She didn’t care that he was hurting, too. He’d brought them to this moment because he was too damn stubborn to listen. Releasing her knees, she stepped around him and left the cubicle. The cold water she splashed on her tear-ravaged cheeks did little to hide the damages. She tore paper towels off the dispenser and dried her face. And glanced up to find him watching her in the mirror above the basin, his expression grim.
“Elytani is not my betrothed. You know this.”
“It changes nothing. She is like you. She’s what you need. Not me.” She tossed the used paper towels into the overflowing trashcan and walked out.
He followed her. His scent a torture of what could have been. She had to get out of this place and away from him.
“Echo, wait.” Kira stopped her as she passed her section and a group of people. “Before you go, a reminder, don’t forget about Saturday—ugh, never mind. I’ll text you.” She glanced over Echo’s shoulder. “Aethan? Nice. Thanks for putting him in his place.”
That caught Echo’s attention. “Put who in his place?” she asked, but Kira merely smiled and danced off.
Echo turned to Aethan, her stomach knotting as she waited for him to answer.
A heartbeat passed.
“If you’re prepared to talk to me—” His hard gaze pinned hers. “Then it better be something important. Like us.”
“There is no us.”
***
No us?
Aethan refused to accept that. His jaw compressed so tightly, it was a damn miracle his teeth didn’t shatter. He saw her into the Range Rover, waited until she belted up, before slamming the door shut. He circled the hood to the driver’s side and, moments later, tore through the street, ignoring the irate honking and squealing of tires.
If he didn’t find a way out of this mess that was their life, the outcome was guaranteed. Michael’s words gnawed at his brain like a bloodthirsty parasite.
‘Mate with her to keep her safe or she will ascend to the Celestial Realm.’
There was no way. No way would Michael leave Echo on this cursed realm, unmated and thereby unprotected.
***
Andras stared at his reflection in the new, ornate mirror in his chambers and tugged at his long, brown dreadlocks. Perfect, he smiled. Uncanny to see his brother’s reflection instead of his own, but as much as he hated the fucker’s face, he had to put up with it, for now. Because now the glamor remained longer, unlike in the bar. He would have had the prophesied one but for one thing. The damn glamor wore off far too soon and the binding hauled his ass back to the Dark Realm.
Still, nothing mattered but the victory he could almost taste.
Excitement stirred in him as he left his chambers and headed for the outer caverns. He wouldn’t miss this shithole. He neared the place that marked his confinement to the Dark Realm and hesitated.
The binding barrier usually hauled him back to his chamber if he dared to cross it. An excruciating experience that he continued to test, hoping to weaken the incantation.
Until he took Lazaar’s blood.
Smiling, he passed the barrier and entered the dank cavern without a single stir in the spell. Secure in the knowledge all was well, Andras made his way through the tunnels.
Soon, it would all be over.
He took the potion from his pocket. Three drops, that sniveling little oracle had said. He didn’t even care that someone had released her. As long as he had what he wanted. He took four, to keep the glamor bright and energized. Then he opened a portal and stepped into the tunnels leading to a passageway near the surface of the mortal realm. He came to a solid wall. A touch and the concrete barrier moved.
The moment Andras sauntered into the crypt, he smelled the human. Mortals as minions were far too irresistible with the delicious light of their souls burning in them. However, he had to put temptation out of his mind, for now. Most important, he had to get the girl before someone else claimed her.
Bael followed orders well. Maybe he’d keep him when he ruled the realms.
The demon strode over to him. “He has news,” Bael said and nodded to the minion.
The human’s vacant brown eyes stared at Andras as he spoke. “The girl was in the bar. There was a clash between a blue-haired man and another over her—”
“Enough.” Andras touched the human’s mind, seeing the events for himself. “Are they still there?”
“Yes.”
Andras shimmered and flashed from the crypt back to the Peacock Lounge. Humans, he snorted, were such creatures of habit, made his job of hunting them so easy. First the alley in Chinatown and now the same bar.
Finding the warrior and the girl were no longer there was a disappointment, however, it didn’t deter Andras.
Scanning, he found whom he wanted in the back room. He strolled into the locker room. The human male was changing his clothes. His rage, a thick red haze that surrounded him, was palatable. Inhaling, Andras let the negative energy fill his psyche and caught the scent of the male’s embarrassment.
Oh, so perfect. A human failing that always worked to his advantage. “You aren’t going to let them get away with that, are you?”
The human spun around, rapidly zipping up his jeans. “Who the fuck are you?”
Andras glanced around the poky little room, with chipped lockers and mismatched chairs. “The warrior shoved you against the shelves, didn’t he? Messed you up? No, not good at all.” He could smell the alcohol and see the bits of glass still in the male’s hair.
“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.” The human brushed him off and pulled on a dry shirt. Andras touched the male’s thoughts with his mind and smiled. “Come now, Neal, I’m here to help you.”
Neal scowled.
“You’ve wanted her for a long time, haven’t you? You can have her, if you agree to a little proposition I have.” Andras tugged at the annoying dark dreadlocks hanging into his face.
The human narrowed his eyes. “What’s this got to do with you?”
Andras smiled. “You want the girl and you want to avenge yourself against the warrior, correct?”
“So what if I do?”
“I have a fail-proof way. All you have to do is say yes.”
He saw the male contemplate his words. The darkness of revenge, of hatred, filled the human’s psyche. “If I help you, then she is mine?”
“But of course,” Andras lied. “I want the warrior dead. What better way than to use the girl to get him. Once it’s over, s
he’s yours. Agreed?”
Neal smiled, eyes bright with malice. “Count me in.”
“Wonderful.” Andras grabbed hold of Neal’s mind and took over, so much easier when they forfeited free will for greed. His sire should be proud of him. The old bastard would see soon enough, that he, Andras, was the better choice than that fuckhead loser, Lazaar, to inherit his Sin.
CHAPTER 28
Echo avoided the kitchen the next morning, when she’d heard male voices there, and wandered over to the library instead. She missed the solitude her apartment gave her. Bob offered a small measure of comfort but it wasn’t the same. The moment they took care of the demon who was after her, she’d move back—she halted. The reality of her situation hit her hard. She could never go back to her normal life, ever. She would have to be protected. Always. That meant she’d have to live here for the rest of her life, and see Aethan every day, knowing he’d never belong to her.
Echo stumbled through the french doors and into the freezing cold. She wrapped her arms around herself against the blistering winds and walked blindly into the garden. The vibrant colored leaves beneath her feet soon gave way to damp ground as she trudged on. The smell of moss and decaying wood drifted to her, and Echo found herself in a dark canopy of trees.
She’d stopped, unable to go on, waiting for the pain to ease, when she saw a tall figure heading toward her, a sword in his hand. Her flighty heart pounded like mad until she saw the wild black hair.
She greeted the Archangel as if coming out of a long sleep. “Hello, Michael.”
She hadn’t seen him since the day Aethan had introduced them in the study. He stopped, sheathing his enormous sword in the scabbard strapped to his back.
“Eshana.” He came closer. A light touch of his hand on her cheek and warmth seeped into her, banishing the cold.
A moment later, something warm, settled across her shoulder. Her jacket. “T–thank you.”
He nodded, his gaze studying her face. Those shattered eyes saw everything. She would bet her last dollar on it.
She shifted nervously. “I’m going for a walk.”
“All right, I’ll join you.”
She didn’t want company, but how did you say no to an archangel?
“Just say no.”
Her eyes jerked to him as an eerie shiver ran down her spine. “Please don’t read my thoughts.”
“I won’t if you promise to talk.”
They walked in silence while Echo chewed on her lip, trying to figure out how to ask this man—archangel—about what she wanted to know.
Speak to him, like you do with any other, she decided.
He spoke then, his voice soft, compelling. “There are many choices in life, Eshana. The ones you make at this moment will have the greatest impact on your future. You need to think carefully.”
“Yeah? Well, I chose, and mine didn’t turn out so well, did it?”
Michael glanced at her, the wind whipping at the strands of his hair.
“Did Aethan tell you about the Celestial Realm?”
Why was he asking her about Heaven? “No. Should he?”
“There’s something you should know.”
“What more can there be?” she asked, stopping. She shoved her hands into her pockets and searched for her stones, only to discover she’d left them in her room. Her fists clenched as she stared at the Archangel. “Bring it on, then. Let’s pile it all on the little human.”
Michael ignored her outburst, but something shifted in his wild blue eyes. “As long as you’re mortal and remain on this realm, demoniis will always come after you because of what they think you represent: Freedom for them. Your destiny is to journey to the land of the angels.”
“You mean I need to die?” she asked, shock filling her. No matter how much her life sucked, and it did most times, she wasn’t one to give up so easily.
But you did with Aethan.
She pushed that thought aside. Didn’t want to go there again.
“No,” Michael’ said. “You are a descendant of an angel. Your heritage allows you entrance. It’s the only place demoniis can’t get to you.”
“Why didn’t Aethan tell me about this?”
“He refuses to let you go. Had you chosen to stay with him, you could have lived your human life here before journeying to the Celestial Realm. But you can’t live unprotected here, and he won’t tolerate another near you.”
“Are you kidding me—what kind of solution is that? Choose to live with Aethan or meet my maker early?” She glared at Michael. But her eyes shifted to the huge sword strapped to his back, her skin growing clammy despite the warmth of her jacket. “I just wanted normal. Instead, I got handed the crappiest deal ever.”
“There’s one advantage or disadvantage to this,” Michael said. “If you choose to go to the Celestial Realm, you won’t retain your mortal memories.”
He hung that incentive over her head like damn bait. It was no longer a choice of stay or go, but remember or forget. With anguish rolling through her like a living entity, his offer was exactly what she needed. But at the thought she’d never remember Aethan, her stomach twisted.
What was the alternative? Could she live here and see him with someone else?
No. She’d never accept him with another woman. God, she was tired. She only wanted a little peace.
***
Aethan walked out onto the terrace as night strolled in, accompanied by icy winds saturated with the salty scent of the sea. But his mind wasn’t on the weather.
Echo slept in the room next to his, but she might as well have been in another wing of the castle. He hadn’t seen her in days, not even a glimpse, and it galled him that he’d had to ask his butler for her whereabouts.
Now she’d gone to spend the day in the city because it was Kira’s birthday. All he could think was she’d use any excuse to avoid him. In frustration he lashed out, punching the stone balustrade bordering the terrace. The pain didn’t register, but the cracks spidering through the concrete drew his attention as dust and bits of rubble rained to the ground.
The agony from his shattered knuckles finally made itself known. He flexed his fingers, warmth surrounding the broken bones as healing took place and the split skin knitted.
He sighed, lifting his eyes to the darkening skies. Gods, he was losing his mind. He needed to do something, keep his mind occupied. Or else he’d go over to the oracle’s and haul Echo back—yeah, the way things stood between them, not a good idea right now.
“The cathedral on East Side,” Blaéz said from behind him.
He pivoted to the Celt. “What about it?”
“Found something there yesterday. You’ll want to see this.”
Blaéz dematerialized.
Perfect. This would give him the distraction he needed. Aethan followed. They took form behind the cathedral, near a small grove of trees. Aethan looked around the place then finally at the stone angel, where he first saw her. Pain unhinged him. He fought to breathe again, forcing his mind back on the job.
Blaéz led the way farther into the copse of trees and through a small gate into a cemetery.
“Why the hell didn’t I think of that?” Aethan looked around the cemetery shrouded by tall trees. It was the perfect hideout.
“Because it’s too obvious,” Blaéz said, leading him to a crypt. “And your head’s not screwed on right.”
“Asshole.”
The Celt’s mouth lifted in a parody of a smile as he willed the heavy door to the tomb open. The thing groaned loud enough to wake the dead. As they entered, the musty smell of decay, merged with stench of sulfur, nailed Aethan full in the face. The crypt door creaked and slowly closed, sealing them in total darkness. It took Aethan only a second to readjust his sight.
Stairs led from the landing down into the bowel of the crypt. Fresh footprints marred the dusty floor. Cobwebs hung in tattered threads overhead.
“This has to be one of the fuckers’ hide-outs. We need to find out who’s usi
ng this place. Where does it lead?” he asked Blaéz.
“Beneath the foundation of the cathedral. Through there.” Blaéz nodded at a point on the wall that was now broken. “I’ve been keeping an eye on it, but nothing so far.”
Aethan’s mind raced. “Think it’s him? The one after Echo?”
“Hard to say. Let’s go.” Blaéz turned back toward the door. “We don’t want him picking up our scent here.”
They materialized back at the castle. The winds howled around them as they stood on the portico.
“She can smell them,” he told Blaéz. “Says each has an underlying scent that’s different. That’s how she knew the one at the bar the other night wasn’t the same one who tried to take her through the portal, even though they looked the same. The one at the bar was who killed her friend.”
If he took Echo back to the crypt, she’d know if that hiding place belonged to the demonii they searched for.
But thoughts of her widened the chasm in his chest. He couldn’t move. The weight of his despair crashed through his walled barriers. He sat on the balustrade, his head slumped to his chest, his eyes squeezed shut.
How the hell was he to go on without her?
“You could try,” Blaéz said, sitting beside him. “I don’t normally interfere when visions are involved, unless a life is at stake or harm to an innocent. But if you don’t claim her, you will lose her,” Blaéz told him. “And I don’t mean that metaphorically.”
Aethan’s eyes snapped open.
“Ask her about tomorrow night.”
Blaéz’s words made little sense to him. What the hell was going on tomorrow night? Aethan pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled roughly.
Fuck all this. If Fate chose Echo for him, then they’d better make damn sure nothing happened to her. Because if it did, there’d be hell to pay.
***
Echo shivered, tucking her hands into the pockets of her cashmere coat, an extravagant present Damon had given her last winter. She still hadn’t been able to reach him. Calls to his cell went unanswered, and now she was running out of time. She’d go to the loft tomorrow. She had to see him.
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