They walked through the apartment and Riley became fascinated by pictures of Nicky with music legends, The Rolling Stones, Stevie Wonder, Madonna, Eddie Vedder, Prince, Lou Reed, Michael Jackson, and Elvis Costello all smiling at the new rock god. There were pictures of Nicky partying with Beyonce and Jay- Z, Lady GaGa, Kanye West, Chris Martin and Gwyneth Paltrow and The Black Eyed Peas. He turned to point out a photo of Nicky Sky with Bono and Green Day at the Superdome when he noticed Eli staring at the blood stained rug, his thumbs rubbing at his itching fingertips.
CeCe stood nearby biting her bottom lip, her hands clenching and un-clenching. She watched Eli curiously before moving closer to Riley who stood frozen, his eyes glued to Eli’s back.
“What’s happening?” She whispered anxiously.
“He’s there. Just watch him, make sure he doesn’t hit his head. When he goes down, he goes down hard. Try not to touch him, I think it brings him out of it,” he mumbled and moved to stand closer to Eli.
***
As Eli stared curiously at the faded blood stain on the rug, the chill in his bones started and the air left his lungs. The room went hazy, and the days moved backward at breakneck speed. He felt people moving around him, in reverse, coming in and out of view until finally, everything came to a bone-jarring halt. Eli felt a little winded as if he’d been running, his heart racing. The room came into razor sharp focus in shades of black, white and gray.
Nicky Sky rolled onto his side, from his place on the rug, just inside of the open door that led to the balcony. He sat up, looking around the room groggily. He was in a white t-shirt and snug fitting jeans, debris from a raucous party surrounding him. Outside, the midnight dark sky was split in two by the sharp crack of lighting. He rose slowly, touched a swollen red mark on his neck and flinched. He turned to walk out of the room, his back covered in bright red, his hair sticking to it in thick clumps. The smell of the room made Eli nauseous, the thick scent of blood and bile made his stomach turn. Nicky peeled the shirt off and entered his bedroom; Eli inched behind him. There was a woman sprawled across the bed, naked and immobile, her long blond hair hanging past her shoulders, covering her face.
Eli blinked and found himself in the bathroom as Nicky stripped and entered the shower, his head down, eyes closed, and water soaking his face. Slowly he reached up, and his eyes widened in surprise at the dried blood on the back of his hand. He looked at both hands, his face contorting as he opened his mouth to scream in horror. He looked at his feet as the bright red pooled and went down the drain. Stumbling out of the shower, he noticed the bloody footprints that led to the shower and screamed a silent scream of terror. Wet and naked, he jettisoned from the shower, slipping on the uncovered white marble, his ankle snapping, twisting at the most awkward angle possible. Eli winced in pain for him. Nicky’s pretty face twisted in anguish; he was yelling something, something Eli couldn’t hear, but the words were formed “Brittney” Eli mumbled out loud.
Something behind him moved, and Eli spun to see the blond get up, her face hidden as she contorted, and her bones moving beneath her flawless skin. It made his skin crawl to see it break down, moving crablike towards the bathroom door. It moved quickly, scampering from one side of the room to the other, the entire time, its features contorting, reshaping, the skin crawling as if a million centipedes were writhing just beneath the surface.
“Oh God.” Eli groaned, tears filling his eyes as he watched the thing approach.
Nicky was pulling himself up, tears in his big blue eyes; he seemed paralyzed with fear, as the thing moved closer to the room. It passed through Eli and he felt sick, loneliness, pain and pure rage riling in the creature. It paused for a moment, and Eli was sure if felt his presence the same way Nicky had at the funeral home, but it continued to move toward Nicky.
It touched his cheek, its mouth close to his neck, then it was biting him, a dozen needle-like teeth tearing the flesh at Nicky’s throat. He went down hard, his head slamming against the floor, his body rigid as it drank from him. Blood coursed from his neck in great tributaries, pooling on the floor beneath him. He began to cough bubbles of blood as he choked, his body suddenly shaking violently, but he didn’t fight. The little monster bit him all over, in some sort of frenzy; it seemed almost sexual as it rubbed its naked body over Nicky’s prone form, smearing blood across pale white skin. It was vulgar in a sick, visceral way. Eli heaved, tears filling his eyes but he didn’t move.
Finally, the thing stopped when Nicky lay completely still, a gaping wound at his throat, his body covered in tiny holes. It crouched on his chest, a curious look on its face. It touched Nicky’s mouth and he immediately began to vomit, his body purging itself of everything. It watched this with something like fascination, before turning Nicky’s face, pulling his jaw open. It leaned closer, so close that they were nearly kissing, and vomited something vile and dark red into Nicky’s mouth. He coughed, his body seemed to vibrate, fighting against it, but the thing held a clawed hand over his mouth. He convulsed, unable to breathe or lift his limbs. He was paralyzed, Eli realized, not yet dead but very near. Then suddenly, he was still. The thing stood slowly, watching him with a look of appreciation and wonder, and then it walked out of the room, passing through Eli as it went and the room went black.
***
“Det. Cain.” He was on his knees, CeCe kneeling in front of him, holding his face in her hands.
“Eli.” It took a moment before he could speak or focus. He was having trouble breathing for some reason.
“Take your time. Breathe, slow deep breaths,” she said, and he realized she was cradling his head against her chest. She smelled of honeysuckle, lavender and vanilla, her tone was soothing as he regained his ability to breathe.
He stood slowly, his legs shaking.
“I need to get the fuck out of here.” Riley draped one of Eli’s arms around his shoulder, and CeCe took the other, together they helped him out of the apartment and to the elevator where he slumped against the wall, his eyes closed as he tried to forget that awful little - elf? Fairy? Hobbit? What the hell was it?
He didn’t speak until they were in the lobby and he had gained some semblance of his composure. As they crossed the lobby at an advanced clip, the doorman waved absently telling them to have a good night, his face blank, eyes vacant.
“Thank You.” CeCe brushed his cheek with the tips of her fingers. The doorman blinked and yawned as if he were waking from a dream. He watched the three of them curiously, but said nothing.
Eli stared at her as they continued to the parking garage. When Riley jogged ahead of them to the car, Eli grabbed her arm, pulling her aside.
“I don’t know what kind of shit you’re getting me into, but I think I just saw your friend killed by a vampire elf,” he whispered angrily. She looked at him strangely.
“What?” She was stunned, his grip on her arm was like banded steel. His eyes flashed bright blue for a moment and she felt her pulse race.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She spoke in a hushed whisper. “What did you see?” He looked up to see Riley staring at them and let her go.
“What I saw was some fucked up shit,” he grumbled and walked away, his head pounding. Riley continued to walk, staying ahead of Eli and CeCe, not wanting to intrude on whatever was going on between them. She trotted after Eli, her shoes making no noise as she approached.
“What happened? Was it an accident? Did he kill himself? What happened?” She stood in front of him, blocking his path. Eli moved left and she moved with him blocking his progress.
“Talk to me.” She placed her hands on his chest, right above his heart and looked into his eyes. He stared back his jaw clenched, and the garage became an inferno in seconds. She was in his head, reliving the memory as if she’d been there, tears streaming from her eyes as energy pulsed beneath her fingers. The heat was unbearable; the fluorescent bulbs began to explode over their heads in rapid succession.
Riley ducked, and covered his he
ad as sparks and glass showered over him. The heat reached such an intense level that windows in the cars parked nearby begin to crack, car alarms sang to life, until they reached a deafening chaotic cacophony. Riley moved out of the garage in an attempt to avoid being burned by the falling sparks and looked up to see headlights and lights exploding throughout the four story parking garage. There were surprised shouts and yelling as the building lit up like the fourth of July.
“What the fuck-” Riley mumbled.
CeCe began to shake, her body racked with uncontrollable sobs, but she was unable to stop, she couldn’t tear her eyes from Eli’s. Her face contorted in misery as the demon elf came to the forefront, massacring her friend. She made a noise that was somewhere between a sob and a scream, her knees giving out, and she finally released Eli’s gaze as she sank to the ground. He took a shaky step back; his head throbbed to the point of blindness. He closed his eyes and knelt before her.
“What did you do to me?” He asked.
“I’m sorry,” she choked, slowly rising to her feet. She moved sluggishly, her legs weak and her vision blurred. She started walking aimlessly, her legs unstable; her head felt as if it would explode from the pain then she felt herself falling before she blacked out.
***
He was cold. This place was cold and still, the only sound the gentle brushing of the wind against the linen curtains that surrounded the silken pillows upon which he rested his aching body. The room smelled of exotic spices and he could hear the crackle of a fire somewhere but the warmth never reached him. He rolled onto his side in a ball trying to preserve his body heat when someone entered the room.
He opened his eyes and sat up startled, a rush of terror and panic overwhelming him. He absently clutched his chest and heard the tinkle of bells. Looking down he saw that he had bracelets around his delicate wrists, bracelets with dozens of tiny golden bells that sang with every movement of hands that weren’t his. He was confused for a moment, staring at the delicate fingers and noted that the bracelets also had a small loop made into them, loops that looked as of something was supposed to be laced or hooked into them. He stared at the places where the metal had been worn down, the shine dulled from multiple uses and frowned. These were slave bracelets, he thought. He was a slave.
A shadow moved beyond the curtain, a hand slowly moving up to part the thin material. He swallowed hard and waited as a man came forward, his face stern but familiar. He smiled, but it didn’t reach his midnight eyes and a new chill went down his spine. He hated this man, not just hate, he wanted him to die a painful and humiliating death. The man wore a long besht, a robe with a stiff collar embroidered in gold, his hair was thick and curly, and his face, which once had been handsome, was set in a determined scowl as he stared into the darkness.
“Calie, come to me.” He spoke in a deep, authoritative tone, in an old ancient form of Arabic, yet he understood it clearly. Before he knew what he was doing, Eli felt himself rising from the bed. No, he thought, this wasn’t his dream, this was someone else’s dream. No, not a dream, he realized when his feet touched the cool stone floor.
This was a memory. This was Her memory. Somehow, Eli had fallen into Doc’s memories.
He felt himself moving around to where the man stood waiting, his eyes on the bells that jingled at his ankles with each cautious step. She came to stand before the man, her eyes on his feet which were covered by gold slippers that twinkled in the dim fire light. She felt the warmth of the fire here, warming skin that had been covered in gooseflesh. She was only a few inches shorter than this man, but he was built like a wall. She, on the other hand, was slim, malnourished and sick. The man looked past her to a table laden with untouched food.
“Why do you not eat? Is the lamb not to your liking?” He asked, his tone laced with concern.
“It is fine,” she mumbled. He went to the table, leaning over and inhaling, before turning to look at her. She avoided his gaze, knowing he smelled what she had dozens of times since she’d come here. They had put horse dung in her food again. It was the servants, the one’s he’d trusted to care for his most precious plaything, and yet again they had failed.
He called to his guard, who entered without looking upon the woman standing at the foot of the bed. They never looked at her. They were not allowed to lay eyes on her. Those who had dared to look upon the face on the King’s obsession, had paid with their lives. As would the servant responsible for her care. She used to feel bad for those poor souls, but now she felt nothing. Their misery was over, her misery would never end as long as this man lived.
The guard received his order and left as quickly and as quietly as he’d come, his eyes never even drifting in her direction.
“Have you been washed in preparation for service of your king?” He asked, a smile playing across his lips. He touched her hair, letting the dark silken strands slip through his fingers. One hand moved down the front of the silken crimson robe she wore. Stepping closer, he released the tie and pushed it off of her shoulders, watching it fall to the floor. He tugged at the gold chain around her waist, pulling her forward so he could inhale the perfume of her skin.
“Yes,” she whispered in a tired husky voice. He leaned forward, his lips brushing hers and Eli could feel her revulsion and the subsequent relent as she succumbed to the kiss. It would only be worse if she fought him. He pulled her closer, crushing him to her as he sank his fingers into her hair. She remained limp in his arms, even as his swollen cock pressed into her. She cringed but remained still, compliant as he ran his hands over her body.
“I would give you the world, if only you loved me. I would make you my queen,” he said, his brow furrowed in pained desperation. “Tell me that you are mine, that I have your heart, my sweet little goddess,” he begged. He stroked her cheek, but she remained silent. She didn’t have to say anything, it didn’t matter what she said, and he would never let her go.
He grasped her face, his fingers biting into the tender flesh of her cheeks as he forced her to look at him.
“Say you love me. You want me, do you not?” She stared at him, and forced her mouth to move though the pain.
“Yes, I love you. I want you, my king,” she said, her tone flat. He released her face, his hand moving to roughly cup the soft curls at her apex. He forced a finger inside of her, the pain sharp and unyielding as he sought a true answer to his question. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from screaming out.
“Your body does not lie as easily as your mouth.” He bit. He forced her back, grasping her wrists and holding them over her head. Eli could feel the bracelets cutting into her already raw wrists as the small hoops were fitted on hooks secured to posts at the foot of her bed. She didn’t make a sound when he did the same to her ankles, pulling her body until she was spread eagle and exposed. Her body was taut, pulled and stretched until only her toes grazed the cool floor. She had become familiar to this humiliation, she had become accustomed to much more in the time she been here.
“I see I must prove to you again, that you are mine and mine alone,” he mumbled. She said nothing when the “king” dropped his own robes, exposing a toned muscled body of a soldier. He was already hard, his eyes dark and sinister as he approached. Roughly, he grasped one full soft breast in one hand just before forcing himself inside of her. The pain was abrupt, intense and she could not help the whimper that escaped her as he began to thrust into her body. He continued to thrust into her with a ferocity that would leave her weak and bleeding when he was done. She refused to scream as he tortured her already sore and tired body. Instead, she bore the agony in silence, unable to stop the tears that flowed freely from her eyes as she prayed for death to claim her.
***
Eli woke as a pain ripped through the pit of his stomach. He was panting and drenched in sweat, his heart aching. He rose from the guest bed slowly, his body hurting all over, and stumbled down the hall to his bedroom. The cool wood of the floors felt good on his aching feet and the warmth from th
e heater took the sweaty chill from his bare chest but his head still throbbed from the fireworks earlier that night. Only now his chest hurt with an ache he had never experienced before.
Pushing the door open, he stared at her, tossing in her fitful sleep. He and Riley had gotten her to his house after she’d passed out in the parking garage and put her into his bed. Riley had undressed her, but now Eli stood looking at her in her pale yellow bra and panties, if that’s what you wanted to call them. She’d kicked the covers off, her body kissed by moonlight. Easing into the room, he tiptoed to the bed and covered her, and brushed a stray curl from her face. She looked so vulnerable and peaceful, her brow slightly furrowed, her lips pursed in an angry scowl.
He stroked her cheek and she flinched, then relaxed into his touch. His heart ached at the thought of what he’d just experienced. She’d been raped, that was why she was so closed off. She had been hurt and damaged and from the way she spoke, the nightmare had been a prolonged experience. He took a deep breath and shook it off.
As surreal as the dream had been, it had also been vivid and detailed. He’d felt the bracelets cutting into her wrists and ankles, the pain as the self-proclaimed king had forced himself into her. The dream had been like an Arabian fairytale gone bloody.
“What did they do to you, Doc?”
He sat on the edge of the bed; his intention was to lie beside her, until he saw the silver chain glinting around her neck. He touched it, pulling it from the covers to look at the pendant that dangled between his fingers and shook his head.
“Okay,” he thought, “Now, you really have some explaining to do.”
***
She awoke with a start; the sun was beaming down on her from the wrong direction. She sat up, disoriented and looked around her unfamiliar surroundings. The room was large, and decidedly masculine. The floors were a polished hardwood stained black, the walls a pale shade of slate, trimmed in bright white. She looked at the dark mahogany furniture, a dresser with silver pulls, a black leather chair in the corner, and the dark wood and leather headboard. The pictures on the wall were all black and white landscapes, all with the same black wooden frames. A flat screen television was mounted on the wall above a fireplace which faced the bed, and was housed in the wall that shared a pristine white door. She was beneath a fluffy down comforter in the prettiest shade of teal blue she’d ever seen. Lifting the covers, she realized that someone had undressed her; she wore only her bra and panties. Lying back against the pillows, she closed her eyes and tried to block out the memories of the night before. She needed to talk to Jonas; they had a rogue on their hands.
The First to Fall: A Fallen Novel (The Fallen Series) Page 11