Unchained

by J. Lynn

  He smirked, grabbing two of the half-circle blades off the floor.

  “Oh, so you want to play hard?” Lily released the blades from her cuffs. “Getting a bit big for your britches?”

  Michael didn’t respond to that. Instead, he flew into a butterfly kick, bringing the blades down as he landed. Lily met him with a wild laugh. Blow after blow, they went after each other. Michael blocked a series of kicks and jabs that would have knocked a lesser man on his ass. He kept up with the moves easily, and even got a little cocky. “Come on, Lily, I’ve heard you can do better than this.”

  She sneered right before she turned on her heel gracefully, and with one powerful roundhouse kick, she knocked both of his legs out from underneath him. The blades flew from his hands on impact.

  She stood above him, smirking. “Never let your guard down.”

  He coughed, rolling to his side and staring up at her smug face. “Never let your guard down?” Moving lightning fast, he went for her legs. He snagged the edge of her foot.

  Unable to catch herself, she landed halfway across his lean body. But before he could react, she placed the sharp edge of the blade to the fragile skin of his throat. “Now what are you going to do?”

  He glanced at the sharp blade and then back to her bright, laughing eyes. Lily was strong and incredibly fast, but he had damn near a hundred pounds on her and a foot or more in height. Using the grappling skills Rafe all but beat into him and the advantage of strength, he locked his legs around her hips and rolled. He peered at her. “What are you going to do?” he taunted.

  She tried to kick out her legs, but the iron strength of his thighs pinned them to the floor. When she lifted her upper body to throw him off-balance, he quickly forced her back. “Well,” she sputtered, “apparently you are very adept at grappling.”

  He grinned. “Now you want to tell me I’m not ready? When I took you out?”

  “Well, shit.” She smiled. “You just might be ready.”

  Staring at her, he laughed. “That’s all I’ve wanted to hear.”

  She frowned. “Good. Now get off me.”

  He rolled off and sat cross-legged beside her. “I can’t believe I actually got one up on you. I’m kind of impressed with myself.”

  Slowly, Lily sat up and looked at him. “Don’t get too big of a head. It was only once.”

  “We could go again, but I feel bad about beating up on a chick.” He grinned, but it quickly faded as another reality settled in. “Shit. You know what I just realized?”

  “What?”

  “Some of those deadheads and minions will be females.” He shifted his weight from foot to foot. “Man, besides that deadhead in the stairwell that day, I’ve never hit a female in my life.”

  “Well,” she said slowly. “Don’t look at them as females, you know? And trust me, when the first one tries to rip out your intestines, you’ll get over it pretty quickly.”

  “Hopefully they all try that then. I won’t have such a complex.”

  Lily smiled. It seemed to Michael some of the tension had eased from her body. He watched her for a few seconds, wondering what it must’ve been like for her to grow up in this world. When he asked, he was surprised that she answered.

  “It’s hard to explain,” she said. “The Sanctuary became my family, you know? And all of this—the fighting and the craziness—is second nature to me. Some days nothing shocks me.”

  “And others?”

  She lifted her head, eyes large and somewhat distant. “Some days I wish I was you and no one had found me.”

  “I don’t know. Living and not knowing what I was? All of this would’ve been easier. I could have avoided years of feeling like there was something more I should be doing.” He laughed, shaking his head. “I know that sounds lame.”

  “No! No. It doesn’t sound lame. Did you really feel that way?”

  He nodded, relieved he was actually holding a normal conversation with someone. “I always felt like I was missing something, like a purpose.”

  “Wow,” she murmured. “I had no idea.”

  He started to respond but was cut off by an alarming amount of yelling. Lily shot to her feet, then headed toward the door. Nearly ripping it from the hinges, she threw open the door.

  Michael followed her into the hallway. The brightness of the corridor cast a harsh light on the scene before him. Farther down toward where the labs were, Lily had been brought to a standstill.

  Part of him wished he hadn’t followed her. He had seen a lot of bad things in his life, but…this was by far the worst thing he had ever seen.

  Luke and Danyal supported a man slumped between them; his head fell forward and blood streamed from his messy blond hair. Michael couldn’t even tell what the color of his shirt had once been. Soaked with blood, it had been ripped open, and strips of flesh hung from his bones.

  They took a step, and the thing lifted his face, letting out a howl that turned Michael inside out. The Nephilim was utterly unrecognizable. Deep cuts ran from his scalp down to his chin, exposing tissue and muscle.

  “Micah?” Lily gasped.

  The receptionist from the lobby hovered behind them with a cell pressed to her ear. Her normally manicured exterior showed cracks as she ran a hand over her tightly crafted coif. “I don’t give a flying shit who you are,” she hissed into the phone. “Or what dinner I’m interrupting! If you don’t get Dr. Winchester on the phone right now, it will be your job and your head!”

  “What happened?” Lily asked.

  “I don’t know,” Danyal answered, visibly shaken. “Luke found him.”

  Sandy flipped her phone shut. “The doctor is on his way. I’ll get Nathaniel.” She raced down the hallway.

  Lily followed them into a room. “Luke?”

  Luke guided the wounded man toward the bed. “Lily, you should leave.”

  She stood defiant. “What happened to him?”

  “I have never seen anyone this bad before.” Danyal grunted as he helped Luke lift the man onto the gurney. “I don’t know if he’s going to make it.”

  Micah moaned, prying one bloodstained eye open. “He…he did this to me.”

  Danyal moved to Micah’s side. “Shush, don’t talk. It’s going to be all right. The doc is on his way. He’s going to fix this.”

  “He did…this.” Blood trickled from his mouth.

  Lily leaned forward, but Luke grabbed her arm, swinging her away from the gurney.

  She pulled out of his grasp. “Luke, what the hell happened out there?”

  Luke cursed, rummaging through the cabinet until he found what he was looking for. He pulled out a box of needles and a bag of tranquilizer potent enough to take out a horse.

  Danyal stripped off the remains of Micah’s shirt, exposing what was left of him. Lily covered her mouth, stepping back into Michael. He steadied her, tried to be some comfort, but even he had to look away.

  Luke jabbed the needle into Micah’s arm as he whispered to him. Within seconds, the Nephilim drifted off into unconsciousness. Luke pushed away from the bed, closing his eyes briefly. When they reopened, his pale eyes found Lily.

  Call it intuition or a terrible sense of foreboding, but Michael placed his hand at the small of Lily’s back.

  “What?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

  “It was Julian who did this to him,” Luke said, never once breaking eye contact with Lily.

  Her face paled to the point that Michael feared she’d pass out. “No. He wouldn’t…” She turned to Danyal, who had retreated to a corner. “He didn’t.”

  Danyal peered up through his fingers. “It is true.”

  “I saw him do it, Lily!” Luke said, holding her gaze. “You should have let Micah kill him when he had the chance. Now look what’s happened to him. Your precious Julian did this. This is what you’ve risked everything for!”

  “That’s enough, Luke,” Nathaniel ordered coolly as he entered the room.

  “Enough?” He turned to him. “
Will it be enough when we carry Danyal back here? When we carry Lily? Will it be enough then? He’s a Fallen! This is what they do!”

  Lily tore away from them, storming from the room, her eyes glinting with horror and anger. Michael started after her.

  “Let her go, Michael.” Nathaniel turned to the receptionist. “When will the doctor be here?”

  She cleared her throat, her eyes fastened to Nathaniel. “Should only be a few minutes.”

  “Please make sure Lily is in her room. Lock her in if necessary.” He faced Michael. “You should leave,” Nathaniel ordered quietly. “You don’t need to see this.”

  It was too late for wiping this memory from his head. Staring down at Micah sprawled lifelessly across the gurney, he now saw firsthand the violence between the Nephilim and the Fallen. Never had he seen such utter destruction or so much blood. It pooled on the floor beneath the bed in such great amounts that Micah shouldn’t even be alive at this point.

  “Are you sure it was Julian?” Nathaniel asked as he placed his hand over Micah’s head. His intense stare met Luke. When the Nephilim nodded, he rose. “Where did this happen?”

  “I don’t know,” Danyal answered.

  Michael had forgotten about him. He looked over and saw the detective had his head in his bloodstained hands.

  Before Nathaniel could respond, Sandy returned. “Nathaniel?”

  He inclined his head sharply, not missing the dire tone in her voice. “Don’t tell me.”

  She looked stricken and afraid. Stray hairs had come undone, and her fingers twitched at her side. “I went to Lily’s room,” she said. Her nervous glance bounced off Nathaniel and Micah. “She’s gone.”

  Luke went rigid.

  Michael’s stomach dropped. He turned to Nathaniel, praying his suspicion wasn’t spot-on. “She wouldn’t.” He glanced down at Micah. “No, she wouldn’t.”

  Nathaniel met his stare. “Lily would. She went after Julian.”

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Lily raced through the downpour, slipping over the rain-slicked roofs and down ledges. Nothing could erase the image of Micah’s torn body.

  Let me take care of Micah? No. No. No.

  Had he done this for her? Oh God, she was going to be sick.

  It didn’t matter that she suspected Micah. He hadn’t deserved that. No one deserved that.

  She stumbled, then fell. Sliding down the slate roof of an old factory, she caught herself at the last moment. Lily hauled herself up, huddling against an awning as her world came crashing down.

  Not Julian. He couldn’t have done this. Ripped the Nephilim to bloody shreds, and for what? You shared your suspicions with him. He had offered to take care of him. What did you expect him to do? No! She had given him…everything. And her heart—oh God, she had fallen in love with him. Now she realized this? Now?

  It couldn’t be true, but it was. Luke had seen it, and he would never lie to her, no matter how badly he hated Julian.

  Lily pressed her fist to her mouth, smothering a scream.

  She had defended him, intervened when Micah would have seriously injured if not killed him, and she…loved him. She saw Julian dangling Micah over the rooftop. Remembered his beautiful face twisting into a near hideous snarl as Micah tried to slip his dagger into his chest. What had she done? She had grabbed the dagger and tossed it aside.

  She opened her eyes, staring at the dark sky as rain poured down her face.

  Why aren’t you like them?

  Who says I’m not?

  His snarling face was replaced by the one who touched her so tenderly. Held her in his arms, made love to her, and coaxed her slowly into his world…into loving him.

  She launched herself off the awning, landing on the next building. Lightning crashed overhead, and thunder echoed off the steel around her. The storm was nothing compared to what she felt inside.

  Within minutes she landed on the balcony of her apartment. She had left in such a rush, she hadn’t grabbed her keys or anything. Thunder boomed overhead as Lily threw the small white chair through the reinforced glass door. It shattered into a dozen large shards. She unlocked the door, paying no attention to the piece of sharp glass that caught her hand and sliced it open. She didn’t even flinch. In fact, she welcomed the hot sliver of pain that cut through the haze of a different kind of raw hurting.

  Lily stepped into her apartment; the soaked shirt clung to her skin, and her hair curled around her face. Each step she took left little puddles of water and blood behind. She left the balcony doors wide open.

  In no time, the familiar awareness shifted through her. With her back to the door, she closed her eyes against the onslaught of sorrow and rage.

  “Lily?”

  Her shoulders stiffened at the deep sound of his voice.

  “What’s happened? I could…sense something is wrong. You’re hurt.”

  She inhaled a ragged breath. With her heart imploding into useless mush, she faced him. His shirt clung to his stomach, following the supple ripple of flesh and hard muscle of his chest. Rain dripped from his thick eyelashes, and his eyes burned brightly.

  Could something so beautiful be such a monster?

  She saw Micah’s battered body. Saw the way Luke looked at her. She remembered Nathaniel’s warnings. He is a Fallen. Never forget that.

  “Julian.” The pain, the deep sense of regret for what she had to do was visible in that one word.

  Julian noted the shards of glass. “Lily, what happened? Are you okay?”

  “You know what happened.” She held up her hand. “Don’t come any closer.”

  Something flickered in his fathomless eyes. “Lily?”

  She lowered her head. Her chest rose and fell with every painful breath, and her fingers curled. “How could you do that to him?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Don’t lie to me!” she screamed. All the anger and pain bubbled over. She took a step toward him. “How could you do this? I trusted you!”

  Julian raised his hand. “Lily—stop for a second. Tell me what you think I did.”

  “You ripped Micah to pieces!” She shuddered, and the daggers slipped from her cuffs. She watched as his gaze narrowed upon her hands, then returned to her face. “You tore the flesh off him! Did you do this for me? Because I suspected him?”

  Julian didn’t flinch. He met her wild stare with his own. “Don’t do this, Lily.”

  There was no apology. No excuse—nothing. It felt like her heart had shattered all over again. “I have no choice. You left me no choice.”

  “I will not fight you.”

  Her eyes drifted shut briefly. She turned cold and numb. Duty, she told herself. You have your duty, if not your heart or sanity. “Then you will die.”

  She flew at him. He stumbled backward, caught off guard by the intensity behind each kick and blow she delivered. The edge of her blade etched across his chest. A bright red line blossomed and bled through his damp shirt.

  But he did not attack. Julian blocked what he could, but Lily moved like a whirlwind. Her jabs were quick and precise. Another red line inked down his cheek.

  “Fight me!” she screamed at him again.

  “I will not hurt you.” He blocked her swing.

  “You already have!”

  He flinched again, as if her words wounded him more than the edge of her blade. As Lily attacked, she thought of nothing but the blinding pain and shame she felt for trusting him, for loving him. Her thoughts were an irrational mess; her eyes brimmed with tears she refused to shed. And, my God, it had been Micah instead of her who ended up like Anna.

  Julian knocked her arm away as her blade skated across his chest once more. “Stop this, Lily!”

  She hit him with a double kick, slamming him into the wall. “I loved you!” she shrieked as she brought her right arm down on his chest.

  Julian froze. Those bright eyes caught hers; his hands fell to his side. His beautiful face constricted. “Lily,” he whispered
.

  She faltered. She couldn’t catch her breath as she stared into those eyes. Lily saw him the first time he had saved her from Baal. Images of Julian carrying her back to the bedroom flashed before her. Kissing her, slipping inside her, and how he held her as if she were the most precious thing in the world. The way her heart swelled when she saw him, or the way her pulse quickened when he said her name so softly. She couldn’t move.

  Somehow she still loved him.

  Her arm trembled. There were mountains of reasons why she should kill him, especially when he made no move to defend himself. It would be easy. It wouldn’t be the first time she had killed a Fallen. That was all he was to her now—another Fallen that must be dealt with.

  Oh God, she couldn’t do it. Because deep inside her, some twisted part of her still loved him. A scream of frustration tore through her, and her arm dropped.

  Julian pushed off the wall, capturing her slender wrists. “Lily, please stop this.”

  The worst thing was for him to touch her. It reminded her of too much. She tried to pull away. When that didn’t work, she used a side kick, but Julian flipped her around. He grabbed both of her wrists in one hand, wrapping his other arm around her waist. “Damn it, stop this!”

  Lily struggled fiercely, desperately needing to get away. Even now, her body responded to him, her heart ached for him. It made no sense, but she could feel the turmoil inside of him. The pain he felt.

  She kicked out, and a plant crashed to the floor. Lily managed to get her feet against the wall, but Julian knocked down her legs with one powerful sweep of his arm. She yelped and swung her elbows into his sternum.

  Julian groaned. “Lily, knock it off!”

  She attempted to jab him in the stomach again, but he jumped out of the way and flipped her around so that her back was against the wall. He pulled her arms above her head. Pressing the full length of his body against her, he pinned her there. “Stop it!” he snarled inches from her face. “I don’t know what the hell you think I did!”

  He was crushing her, or at least that was how it felt to her. Maybe it was just a wild mix of emotions that were crushing her. “You know what you did!”

  “I didn’t lay a hand on your precious Nephilim!”