I rolled my eyes and rummaged through my things. “Why are you in this?”
He sat up straight. “What do you mean?”
“Why are you here? Why are you coming with us and helping us?”
“I thought it was pretty obvious. Because of you, darling.” He winked and I rolled my eyes again. “Okay, seriously, I don’t know.” His tone became quieter. “There are a few moments when I believe that whatever is happening to us has something to do with the darkness surrounding the world.”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “The bats and the feelings make me think the darkness is involved in our problems, I guess. But this world doesn’t bother me. I even like the dark. What I don’t like are these pains and the impression I’m missing something, that I’m still missing some part of me.”
It made sense. Though how could he not care that the world was drowning in darkness and every living creature was in the path of death?
The image of his possessed face as he killed his parents’ killer flashed before my eyes.
I approached him and, careful with my words and tone, said, “What happened when you killed those men?” At his raised eyebrow, I hurried on. “I mean, in the vision, you looked … not yourself.”
“One more question to which I don’t know the answer. Like you said, I wasn’t myself. The sight of my parents dead beside me was too much. I was out of control.”
Like when he had attacked me in my closet and almost strangled me. I don’t know if he could also read minds, but he looked up at me, regret flickering in his black eyes. “I’m sorry about the way I acted at your apartment. I was trying to get you out of there, safe and sound, and you were making it so hard. I don’t know what came over me.” His eyes were focused on mine, causing my breath to catch. “I’m sorry.”
I nodded. “It’s okay,” I whispered before disappearing into the bathroom. Besides dying for a shower, I needed to get away from the temptation of lying with him in that bed.
When I went back to the room, the temptation grew. Micah wore only jeans, which left his chest and chiseled muscles apparent. His tattoos sucked me in. He had a coiled snake on his left shoulder, four lines of Hebrew writing over his chest, and tribal drawings to the side of his abdomen, which spread onto his back.
I averted my gaze, my cheeks growing hot.
“Hi, darling,” he said, deliberately provoking me.
I stopped in front of the mirror to comb my hair. “It’s not that warm in here.”
“I know.” He chuckled, adding to my irritation. “I need your touch and thought being shirtless would make the deal more attractive. Plus, you would want me more.”
With my jaw practically on the ground, I turned to him. “Want you more? Are you insane?”
“No.” He sat at edge of the bed near me. That was when I saw his hands shaking. “Could you come here and help me?” he asked, his tone nicer but more urgent.
Disregarding his gigantic ego, I walked the few steps to him and extended my hand. Even if I wasn’t tempted, he needed me to become healthier. He grabbed my hand and, with one corner of his lips curling up, he pulled me closer, resting my palm on his brawny chest.
The cold shock spread from my skin to his before I could protest. For a moment, I forgot I was touching his body and relished the refreshing sensation that came with my healing ability. It was like a relieving twinkling sensation crawling under my skin, taking me over. Pressing my hand with his, he moaned, eyes shut and head tilted back.
The cold diminished slowly, until it was gone. Still holding my hand to his chest, he opened his eyes and looked straight at me—through me.
“Are you better?” My voice broke, my breathing uneven.
Nodding, he gripped my other wrist. He pulled me until I was standing between his legs, less than two inches from him. His gaze never left mine as he stood, brushing his body against mine. My heart skipped a beat.
He leaned into me, but I pulled back. He put his hand behind my neck. “You want this,” he whispered, his breath mixing with his scent, poisoning my mind.
“No,” I said, putting my arms against his chest to push him back. Who was I kidding? He was super hot and into me at this exact moment. Of course I wanted this. But, would I still think I wanted this when I saw Victor the next day? Until I met Micah, the Victor in my visions had been the only guy in my life.
Micah pulled me to him and leaned down. He wasn’t as subtle or gentle or slow as Victor was in my dreams. He was direct and rough and damned sexy. His lips brushed against mine, but a knock on the door made me jump back.
He grunted. “Who is it?”
“It’s me,” Victor said.
My eyes went wide, and I ran to the door and propped it open. Victor sloped against the doorframe, his face white and his breathing irregular.
“Oh God, what is it?” I reached to him, passing my arm around his waist and helping him in.
“Pain,” he whispered between gritted teeth. I helped him sit on the bed.
Micah stood before the window, still shirtless, fuming and pacing, not looking back.
“Did I interrupt something?” Victor raised his eyebrows, glancing from Micah to me.
“No,” I exclaimed, hoping I wasn’t blushing.
Victor extended his hand to me. “Please, could you help me?”
Without answering, I took his hand in mine and almost fell on my knees when the warmth took over me, sending strong feelings to my core. God, he was so weak!
In the depths of healing, I heard Micah murmur, “I’m gonna take a walk.”
Victor ended up taking more of my energy than I realized. After the healing, I plopped down on the bed beside him, sleepy.
“Thank you,” he whispered, glancing sideways at me. “Does it hurt you?”
“No.” At least, I didn’t feel anything. “I’m just a little tired.”
He looked around. “Where’s Micah?”
“I think he left.” I stood up and walked to the window. A minute ago, I had been in Micah’s arms, ready to kiss him. A shiver ran up my spine. God, Micah was impossibly hot and dangerously sexy. If only my heart didn’t belong to Victor—the Victor from my visions. I glanced at the guy before me, wishing he was the one he would never be.
After a few tense moments, he spoke, “Tell me more about your visions.” His voice was low and unsure. “About me in your visions.”
I leaned against the cold glass window. “Why do you want to know?”
“I was wondering how different your Victor is from me.” He glanced up at me, his sea-green gaze sweeping into my soul. “Was he a good friend? Or more?”
“Well, I’m not certain.” I wanted to hold his stare, even if it made me dizzy and confused. How could I talk about him to him? “We were best friends, companions, buddies. And we also acted like boyfriend and girlfriend, most of the time. I mean, we were jealous of each other’s past. I burned inside the few times we talked about your former girlfriends.” I saw his lips twitching as if they wanted to curl up in a smile, but it never came. “We kissed a little, but we never made out. So, I’m guessing we weren’t more, like you asked.”
“Do you like him?” he asked. When I frowned, he rephrased, “Do you love him?” I averted my gaze and didn’t answer, but I guess my silence was the answer. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.
I glanced back at him. “For what?”
“For not being the one you wanted me to be. It would have been nice to be the one you hoped for. It would be nice to have a friend again, to have someone to care about.”
What to say to that? I compelled myself to be still and keep my mouth shut.
Unfortunately, unlike Micah and my dream Victor, he didn’t seem one bit into me. I wouldn’t be the one falling on my knees and begging for his love. With his stoic and reserved personality, I would look like a clown, or worse, desperate. All I needed was to run to him and cry on his lap. That would be fantastic.
I glanced
at the alarm clock beside him. “It’s getting late,” I said, willing my voice to sound firm and strong.
“Yeah, right.” He stood and walked to the door, where he paused and looked back at me. He had to make my pulse race even more? How unfair. “Good night.”
“Good night.”
Once he was gone, I threw myself on one of the beds, hugged the pillow, and forced myself to think about ponies and cute puppies so I wouldn’t cry.
God, these three men—two real and one fictitious—were going to kill me.
22
The air inside Victor’s car was heavy and tense when we got on the road again the next day. A few times, Morgan tried to initiate a light conversation, but none of us gave him much attention. We only stopped twice for gas and to stock up on food we could eat in the car since our plan was to arrive in Wichita later that evening. We’d meet Brock, the other priest, sleep a little, and head to Cathedral Rock the next morning.
During each stop, I thought I was going to have a heart attack. We saw sinister figures. Everyone looked scared and wary, surrounded by poverty and destruction. Each gas station and store was protected with gates and metal doors. It was a pain to get in, and almost as hard to get out.
The clouds grew darker and thicker as we approached the city. Morgan had contacted his friend, Brock, and arranged to meet him in the pub of a local motel. As we drove up, I noticed that despite the rest of the city being dark as night and dirty as a trash bin, the motel was quite nice and well illuminated, and had the security system—cameras and alarms on each corner. We parked and got out, stretching our legs. At the reception desk, a girl in a pink mini dress, who looked more like a hooker than a receptionist, batted her lashes at Micah as she gave him keys for two rooms. I didn’t know I had such rage within me—only Victor and Micah had ever awakened such feelings in me.
With unwelcome jealousy surging through me, I hoped my long nails scratched Micah’s hand as I took one of the keys. “This is my room. If you three don’t want to share one, then ask for another one.” I walked away, assuming the guys would follow. If I’d heard the receptionist correctly, their room was on the second floor, while mine was on the first. Very far away. I needed space.
“What did you do to her?” I heard Victor ask Micah. But if Micah answered, I didn’t hear it.
“We meet in one hour at the pub,” Morgan yelled at my back.
I waved them off and hurried to my room. Enough of the guys—I wanted to be alone.
A series of images flashed before my eyes. The girl dying right in front of me, burned by the acid rain. The attack from the bats on the street. My experiment on the chemistry lab spilling and burning through the table. And old woman dying and leaving her grandson alone. Sarah screaming while a hooded man chased her. The bats invading my apartment. The gods throwing Black Thorns at each other. Imha torturing me.
“Nadine!”
I sat up in bed and sucked in a sharp breath. A book fell from my legs to the floor.
What?
A knock echoed on the closed door. “Nadine? Are you there?” Victor called.
Shaking the numbness from my mind, I turned the lamp on the nightstand beside me on, jumped off the bed, and rushed to the door.
I threw it open and found Victor standing outside, all dressed up in neat jeans and a button up shirt.
He frowned at me. “You were sleeping?”
Was it that obvious? I ran a hand over my hair, trying to comb it with my fingers. “I must have fallen asleep while I was reading.” I glanced to my wristwatch. “Holy shit, I’m late.”
“Yeah, that’s why I’m here. To check on you.”
Of course. Why else would Victor come see me.
I stepped back. “I’ll need a few minutes to get ready.”
He advanced into the room with me and closed the door. “Okay.”
I stared at him. Didn’t he get the hint. “And you’re gonna stay there.”
“To make sure you don’t fall sleep again.”
I rolled my eyes. I was up and moving. It was obvious I wouldn’t fall asleep again, but I wouldn’t argue with him about that. Instead, I gave him my back and went to my bag over the second bed and started looking for something more suitable to wear in a pub.
Thank God Micah was the one who packed my bag, because he had grabbed about four dressy outfits. I pulled out a dark teal halter dress with a short hemline and a wrap-up silver stiletto.
“Hell no,” Victor said from behind me.
I turned around and found him closer than I expected him to be. “Excuse me?”
“I just came from the pub and let me tell you, the public in there, which is ninety percent male, doesn’t look too respectful. You’re not wearing that to go there.”
I gaped at him. I couldn’t believe his audacity. Who did he think he was telling me what I could or couldn’t wear. Now I was determined to pamper myself up, just to irritate him.
“You don’t get a say in it.” He snatched the dress from my hand. I exhaled out loud. “What the hell? Give me my dress.”
He leaned closer, his blue-green eyes too close. His lips … too close. “Not a chance.”
Anger filled my core and, with closed fists, I pushed him. “What the hell, Victor? Why are you acting like that?”
“Like I have a common sense?”
I snorted. “Common sense? No, not even close. That’s more like—” I shut my mouth.
He narrowed his eyes at me. “Like what? Say it.”
“No.” I retreated a step.
Stubborn, Victor reached out to me and grabbed my wrist. “No, now say it.”
“Nope.”
He growled. “Nadine …”
“Let me go.” I jerked my arm, but his hold was firm. “Victor, let me go.”
His eyes gained a different gleam, one I was sure wasn’t real. Then he took a large step toward. I backed up, until my legs hit the bed and I had nowhere to go.
Victor loomed over me. “I won’t,” he said in low voice. “I don’t want to.”
He wrapped his arms around my waist, pulled me against him, and covered my mouth with his.
God, I had dreamed of this moment so, so many times. Yet, this Victor wasn’t my Victor, was he? In truth, right at this moment, I didn’t care. Despite the anger I felt a second ago, all I wanted now was to kiss him back.
And I did. His mouth was sweeter than I could have hoped for, his tender lips eagerly moving against mine, his tongue exploring my mouth as if it were a new, rich land to be discovered. One of his hands traveled up my spine until his fingers knotted my hair. The other hand went down, cupping my hips. Oh, and I was over him too, my hands already under his shirt, exploring his lean, hard muscles.
He pulled my hair back, making me tilt my chin up. Startled by how avid he was, I moaned. In my dreams, I had believed he would be gentle and calm. Very different from this Victor. And I loved every second of this one.
“By the way,” he breathed in my ear, “you’re so, so beautiful.”
With his tongue, he traced a line down my neck to my collarbone. He bit it, scorching my skin, using his hands to press me against him. I felt intoxicated by his scent, by his touch, his breath.
I unbuttoned the top part of his shirt, pulled it over his head and threw it on the floor. Then, he tugged on my sweater. I closed my eyes and prepared myself for this moment. I had been naked in front of a guy only once before, and he had been too drunk to really care. This time was going to be different. With my eyes still closed, I raised my arms so Victor could pull my seater off.
A stab hurt my chest, and tingles spread over my skin.
When I opened my eyes, I wasn’t in the room with Victor anymore.
I was at the pub, watching over Morgan, Micah, and Brock. What the hell? What was I doing here? A ghost-type vision now? Was this a sick joke? Please, I wanted to get out of here, to get back to my room, back to Victor’s arms.
But I couldn’t leave. An intense feeling in my gut made
me approach and observe them. I pushed Victor and his sizzling touch out of my mind.
The trio discussed something, their serious conversation interrupted by a chuckle or two. However, there was something strange going on. Whenever Micah or Morgan weren’t looking, Brock glanced to a corner in the back of the pub. I frowned, and because I had a feeling I was supposed to find out whatever it was, I went to the back of the pub, behind the stage. I found a corridor with dressing rooms, restrooms, and storage doors. I followed the corridor to the end to a door that led outside. I opened the door and froze.
For a moment, I couldn’t register what I saw.
But I knew: demons. Dozens, maybe. Large, nasty creatures with pointed teeth and crippled bodies, slobber dripping down their slanted mouths, sharp claws where fingers should be. Bats hovered over them, silhouetted by the dark skies.
My stomach hit the floor, and nausea made me lean against the doorframe.
What were they doing here?
One of them, clasping a sharp spear, entered the back door and ran down the corridor. He met three humans who halted and opened their mouths to scream. Before they could emit a sound, the demon held his spear high and stabbed their hearts, deft and fast. Their bodies crumpled to the floor, and he stomped over them without losing his focus.
I screamed. Thankfully, I was a ghost here.
The demon stopped at the pub’s door at the end of the corridor and spied from it. Brock glanced at him. Relief showed in his features, then he nodded toward Morgan and Micah.
The blood drained out of me.
“Hurry,” a disembodied voice whispered.
The whole image disappeared—the demons and bats outside, the dead bodies in the corridor, Brock nodding at Morgan and Micah—gone.
“Nadine!” Victor held me in his arms, seated on the bed. The worried look he cast over my face touched me. I took a deep breath and counted while my pulse slowed and my breathing grew easier.
I couldn’t believe this was happening. I couldn’t believe I would have to walk away from Victor, from this amazing moment, but if my vision was right, Morgan and Micah would be attacked soon. And the demons would also come after us.
The Everlast Series Boxed Set Page 16