“You knew the lad,” he whispered into her ear. Veric’s boots squeaked; he stopped behind her. The overprotective nature was common.
My chair groaned, leaning back. The intimacy of his touch wasn’t lost on me either. Veric loved Korri, but she didn’t love him. He comforted her, but nothing sparked in her eyes when she glanced in his direction.
“If my brother has him…” He bowed his head. “Our families were…friends before the Sundering…”
Veric kept on talking, but my gaze narrowed on her. Why would she have knowingly lied? Even now, she held up the pretense.
“Morning Star lost a bet to my brother over three hundred years ago.”
“Excuse me?” I yelled to the agent. My chair snapped forward.
Belle spoke the name again. “Morning Star.”
“Angel, Lily, and Cain are all Morning Star Elioud. Doesn’t anyone read the bloody files? We ‘ave one for each of the Seven families.” Veric marched to Belle.
She gulped, her eyes both wild and wide.
He thumbed to her, but Veric glanced to me. “She’s one, too.”
My fingers pinched the bridge of my nose. “I missed that memo. Back up to this bet…I know what they all are, don’t care.”
“Cain is a victim and so are his sisters.” Tomas infiltrated my mind.
My teeth clenched against the fuzziness washing over my head. “Get out,” I shouted, and tossed my hands into the air. “Go.” My fists slammed onto the desk, and I slung the papers onto the floor.
No one listened. All eyes turned on me.
Veric said, “Not all demons are bad. Look at me, mate. I’m a Garland, and the head of the ABDA Elioud Extraction Division.”
I glared into his amber eyes. My fingers ached, the skin stretching and bone rising. “Tell me about the bet or get the hell out of my office.” I dropped my head into my hands, gripping and tugging my hair.
“They’re a bunch of conniving demons like their ancestor.” Mark glanced to Belle and grinned. “Except her.”
Belle shook her dreads at him. Man, he needed to work on his execution.
“Just because Lucifer’s blood runs through my veins doesn’t make me him,” Korrigan whispered. “We are not him. We don’t want to be him.” Wide, light-filled eyes released two tears. “We didn’t ask for this life.”
My heart pounded with each word she spoke. She reminded me of him, and the words were something he would have said. I must find Cain. Had to leave…had to hold him one last time.
“He’s right. I am one as well.” Tomas palmed his face and removed the goggles from the tops of his head. Before my eyes, his blue eyes blinked and turned amber. “I mentored them both, because they are my family.”
I sensed Hallo’s stare. She crept farther into the room.
“Cain wouldn’t tell me how he came to be in the Garland service, and Lily was far too fragile still.” He leaned forward. “I, too, would like to know more about this bet. My dear cousin died because of it.”
Why didn’t Cain tell me?
“Brother, look how you reacted.” Hallo halted beside Veric. “Look how I’ve reacted in the past. We saw the Seven Princes as enemies, but we have proof not all are evil right in front of us. Lucifer they are not. You see their light.”
“We’re not even talking about that, Hallo. I’m fine with who Cain is, what I’m not fine with are all the lies.” And whoever lost this bet. Whoever hurt him. I wished to read Hallo’s mind, though. Did we share the same suspicions about Veric?
Pale light beamed from Cain and Tomas, but Korrigan’s illumination blazed brighter than any Elioud I had ever met. She was right. Belles blinked at me; her heart was pure. My hand scrubbed over my face. The same light in their eyes was what attracted me to Cain. Like the sun, it became a sign of hope and renewal.
“Lucifer was Father’s most beautiful Archangel,” Hallowed said. “Is it any wonder that his children share his light?”
“I’m sorry,” I whispered through dry lips. Judgment was once my duty, but it was no longer my place. It didn’t answer my question either.
Tomas offered, “It’s possible Cain’s still in Arcadia, even Nova Scotia, but he’s not in Halifax.”
Hallelujah, if the sound of trumpets didn’t go off. I was going plum crazy. He gave me a quizzical glance, and I smirked. Veric, on the other hand, wasn’t ready to reveal his secret.
“Where is Petre?” I changed the subject. “What happened?”
“He turned into a human. Korrigan attempted to sire him, but she failed when Jules blew up the train,” Nikolai said. “My brother is lost.”
Silence enveloped the room. Looking to my sister, she nodded in agreement to the one thought floating in my mind: Petre could not be dead. Hallo mouthed the words in agreement. Nikolai spun around and met Hallo. The spearing stare caught him by surprise, and he quickly averted his gaze.
“Belle,” I called, and motioned her forward.
Markos tilted his head and eyed us. We would need all the help we could get, and I trusted her like my family.
“Track down Fauna. Witches and warlocks are her domain. If anyone can trace Lily, it’s her.” I crossed my leg over my thigh and stared at my folded hands. “Wilderness is a good place to start.” Wilderness was a school she’d run prior to the Sundering.
Tomas shot me a pointed glare, and I sighed. If there had been even a small chance Cain was in Arcadia, I didn’t want to lose the opportunity to hunt down his ass. Once I knew he was safe, I would leave him be.
“She can track Cain. If I can’t find him first,” I said, and nodded to Belle before rising from my chair. “Fauna knows you, but don’t travel alone. Tomas, go with her.”
She scribbled the coordinates to the cove on a piece of paper and handed the note to Tomas. “Don’t leave him be. You were the one he sought, Dorian.” Aloud he added, “Mon ami, il vous aime. Vous êtes flamme pour sa bougie. Sans vous, il ne survivra pas.” My friend, he loves you. You are flame to his candle. Without you, he will not survive.
“Don’t take the human,” I yelled, and ran up the stairs, searching for my hat. Circumstances needed to stop changing. But I had a solid plan. As intriguing as Nikolai was, a living and breathing human would pose a problem. Fauna tempted humans, and the temptation served as a distraction we didn’t need. Markos likely already ran him through the ringer the moment he saw him.
I rushed back downstairs and cursed at my missing hat. Where had I lost it? I combed fingers through my hair. I liked my fedora, but enjoyed hiding behind the covering more.
“He refuses to leave my side,” Korri said, glancing toward Nicolai.
Veric’s jaw stiffened, and he inched a fraction closer, wrapping his arms around her tiny waist. I smirked at the reaction, but refrained from saying I would’ve preferred him to Korrigan any day. But the truth…I wanted Cain.
“Belle will accompany Tomas.” The faster everyone departed, the quicker I searched for Cain. My hands trembled at the thought of seeing him again. “Fine. Veric, Korrigan, and Nikolai will go with Hallo.”
“Sorry, mate, but I don’t take orders from you.”
Hallo snapped, “You don’t speak to him that way.”
I lifted my hand and cracked my neck. Korri stepped in front of Veric and hissed at Hallo.
Hallo rolled her eyes and pointed her finger at Veric. “He can undo you all. Don’t be such a wanker.”
I chuckled at the scene, especially because Korrigan was so small. Like we were watching a Chihuahua and a Great Dane.
Markos muttered, “Calm down, he doesn’t know who we are, Sister.”
A wide smile spread over my lips, and I rocked on my heels. The ABDA hadn’t told him? “Allow me to offer the formality Tomas neglected. This is Conquest better remembered as the First Horsemen. Markos, whom you’ve already met, is War, and Fauna whom you will shortly have the pleasure of acquainting is Pestilence.”
Veric stumbled backward. “Bloody hell that makes you—”
My hands folded in front of me, fingers dancing, and a smirk tilted my mouth. “Death.” I leaned on the desk and collected my thoughts. “Oh, and Petre is very much alive.”
“Bullocks.” Veric’s mouth gaped. “Pardon?”
“How do you know?” All three voices sounded together.
I eyed each one, while silently summoning my scythe and drawing from the swirling darkness no one else saw unless I wanted them to. “Because I am Death, in case you missed that tiny fact, the Fourth rider of the Apocalypse, and Petre von Baron, the former priest, bears my mark for purgatory, just like you, Nicolai.” The jeweled weapon flew into my hand.
Tomas jumped from his seat, and the others inched away. Feet shuffled and chairs skidded across the floor as Mark and Hallo’s laughter filled the room.
I pointed the weapon toward Nikolai. “His soul lives on, and I have not felt a call to retrieve him. Have you, Sister?”
Without another word, I left the stunned and wide-eyed guests gasping in surprise. My goal remained finding Cain and making sure he stayed safe, but I had not lied. Petre lived, and Hallo would find him. They were safe, her virtuous nature would protect them, and if I knew my brother, Markos would join them to shadow Belle. Now, there was a headache I didn’t need.
I glanced around the old neighborhood, and my feet pranced lively over the packed snow. Tomas had his assistant pull Cain’s files from the quaint Blood and Bread on Main Street. I made his last known address my first stop.
The high-rise was once an office building. Halifax had many buildings that’d survived and became housing for those who had lost their residences after the Sundering. Tomas eventually bought them for his workers employed at various businesses, making housing part of their salary. Those living there, I assumed, worked for one of the electric companies he co-owned with Petre.
I blinked, wondering what Cain did for a living, and stared upward at the charcoal windows lining the street. Some had balconies jutting forth. But he didn’t work at Blood and Bread, or the electric company; he had come from the other side of town the day of our meeting. I shook the thought aside and opened the door.
The lobby was empty; the attendant gone, evident by his sign. An elevator dinged in the foyer, but I didn’t trust the power grid and spied the emergency stairs. Heavy and metal, I hefted my shoulder against the cold door. The damp staircase reeked of mold and mildew.
Piss permeated in the stairwell. Paint chipped and peeled, but warmth radiated from the hissing floorboards. Various sounds echoed into the hallway and staircase. Graffiti painted the floor, ceilings, and walls.
The higher my legs climbed, the more the destruction lessened. A good sign, even if Cain still deserved better, but from what I understood of brothel life, a slum was high living in comparison.
I paused on the stairwell and clutched my pounding heart. The biggest mistake of my life was letting him go. After he kicked my ass, I should’ve shoved my tongue down his throat. Instead, like a coward, I sprinted away to lick my wounds and drowned myself in a sea of misery trying to forget him.
Cain was a Morning Star…Lucifer’s ilk. My head rested against the painted-stone wall. I didn’t care what blood coursed through his veins. “No, I sought any reason to let him go before snuffing out his radiance for good.”
What bothered me were his lies. Plus, he’d been abused, sexually. I tried to think of something else, concentrating on our short time together, and admitted him orchestrating my mind’s desire was hot. When Cain had made love to me, he’d etched himself into my soul. On some level, we’d connected in a way I had never experienced before him—a way I never wanted to experience with another.
But Cain still deserved love, and I found myself incapable of releasing the barriers of my heart. Old wounds resurfaced, bleeding, as if inflicted yesterday. I didn’t know how to let them go.
A sigh tickled my tight chest; I glanced into the stairwell and checked the address again—four more floors to go.
In a matter of days, Cain had changed me, and above all odds; he had made me want to change. Not for him. No. Love didn’t work that way, did it? I wanted to be a better version of myself for me.
Part of me was already halfway there, but like him, the past haunted me. Time to let it go. If I could figure that out, and he stopped lying, maybe we had a fighting chance.
My heart pounded, and sweat beaded on my forehead. I leaned my head against the bricks. On an exhale, I hissed air through my teeth. “C’mon, stop being an arse. You can do this. You can love again you sodden wanker, so pull your shite together.”
My legs bounded up the stairs, taking two at a time until reaching his floor. I glanced left and right into the long, straight hallway. The pep talk wore thin on my nerves, my body heavy. I shuffled closer, reading the numbers. Smack dab in the middle sat number six—Cain’s door.
I caught my breath and willed my heart to steady. No sounds or strange scents emitted, unless the slight odor of manure was odd. My hand lifted, and I stared at my trembling fingers as they curled into a tight fist. What would I say to him?
I rapped over the surface and paused, placing my ear to the door. Behind me, a door creaked, and I twisted.
“He’s probably at work.” A soft, feminine voice spoke.
I turned and blinked at the gray-haired woman, hunched over and gripping her door. I offered a warm and inviting smile. “When does Cain come home?”
“You’re not from Garland.” Her arms crossed over her chest, and she looked both ways.
I reached into my pocket and retrieved my badge before flipping it open “I’m…” Lover, boyfriend, or friend? With my other hand, I scratched my head, reaching for my hat. “I’m Special Agent Dorian Fox with the Arcadian Bureau of Demonic Affairs.”
Her face brightened, and she opened the door a little wider. Large warm eyes crinkled at the corners. “You must be Cain’s Dorian. He’s told me all about you.”
I returned her smile and added a nod. I wanted to be his.
“Wait a moment, and I’ll let you in, dearie. I have a key here somewhere.”
My cheeks flushed at her pet name, and I chuckled. Who called Death dearie?
She closed the door, and keys rattled. “He’ll be home any minute now. I’m Jan.” She worked the locks.
My heart thudded. “You mentioned Garland. Has anyone else come by?”
Jan nodded and scowled. “Yes, but I sent those men away. They scared me. Had a big G on their uniforms.” She started toward her apartment.
Did she send the anonymous tip to Belle? My brow arched. Behind me, her door shut. I stared into his dark flat, inching inside, and closed his door. A deep breath filled my lungs, and Cain’s smoldering scent hit me at once. But I resisted the urge to roll myself against the walls.
Light filtered through the windows, and I glanced around, my eyes quickly adjusting. Pictures lined his white walls. Some were of his sister, Lily; some I didn’t recognize, but Angel’s photo hung too. Volumes of battered classics packed his bookshelves, and sheets covered the lived in furniture. The level of cleanliness didn’t surprise me either.
I removed my coat and hung it on the hook by the front door. I placed a hand on my revolver, nestled on my hip. Jan said strange people came looking for him, but Markos said he was safe. Neither of those truths sat well in my stomach. More lies or Cain decided to evade everyone. I stroked my chin and studied another photograph. Despite his stated age, his caramel eyes reflected youthfulness, innocence.
Where was the logic? None of this made sense. His departure or the need for secrets didn’t make for good judgment either. Snooping—not beneath me—I bee lined for his bedroom.
T-shirts and long sleeved shirts filled his closet; no signs he was planning to flee. His dresser held different bottles of cologne. Sniffing each one, I found the smoldering scent I had come to crave. My stomach tightened, the wooded fire hit my nose, and my groin stirred with life. If I closed my eyes, I would see him…see us wrapped in a warm embrace. A t
ouch of my lips served as a remembrance of his fierce kisses. My hand ran over my heart, and the emptiness there led only to a grimace.
“Get a grip,” I mumbled at my own distractions, and spun around. Bottles clattered at the sudden movement, but I ignored them, like the emotions reeling around me.
Loving again would end in pain and eternal agony. I had mislaid my heart to another before, vowing never to allow its loss again. Leading purgatory didn’t exclude me from prison. Earth became my own hell; the ones I loved condemned me.
Cain’s bed appeared slept in, but I resisted wrapping myself in the covers. My eyes closed, centering myself instead. If I were he, where would I hide my secrets?
The bed squeaked as I sat and reached underneath. Nothing there. Gold lettering flickered in the soft light. Two leather-bound books rested on the nightstand. Cain’s journal and a Holy Bible, but Father’s divine words didn’t pique my curiosities.
A better man would have left the second book alone, but I was neither better nor a man. No larger than a pocket and the writing inside was etched in a tiny, neat scripted hand. It had to be a diary of sorts. Dates marked each entry, and I thumbed to the last record and flipped to seven days ago:
Well, I finally approached Dorian. The kicker was I didn’t realize he was the tracker until it was too late. The past seven months came rushing back when I saw him. All the dreams and fantasies resurfaced, along with the bitter angst of our original meeting. Bit by bit, he buried me with his thoughts and secrets. I swam in his mind and memories, but found no reason for his behaviors.
Seven months wasted on a dream…time to move on with my life, find another way to save Lily, and find Angelica. We are few and almost the last of our kind.
“Kind?” The last Morning Stars. Had Boric managed to trim them down to a handful? No wonder he wanted Cain back if his goal was to control the remaining six families. Of course, it was an assumption. I slapped my face. The idiot sought their keys. My fingers rubbed over mine. At least I held the real key.
Altered: A Beyond the Brothel Walls Novel Page 16