His Seductive Target (Afterlife, #2)

by Nichole Severn

  “Do you remember what I said about you choosing her over me, Grayson?” Nika. A knee slammed up into his face. Then another. The world tilted to one side. His horns detached from the Deceiver’s side and he dropped to one knee. Stone bit into his nerve endings. Leveling his chin with the floor, he stared up into the monster’s dark eyes. Thick black talons wrapped around his wrists and removed Grayson’s hold from the Deceiver’s side. Silver blood coated his hands as Grayson fought for release. The angle was all wrong. He couldn’t get the right amount of leverage. Faster than he thought possible, the Deceiver released his wrists and plunged those talons between Grayson’s ribs.

  Agony washed over him, consuming, drowning, killing him from the inside. A scream ripped from between his lips. The beast howled in tandem as the power he used to keep his transformation strong drained from his body. Bone and muscle deteriorated as Grayson’s mortal form took control. Talons receded back into human nails. Armored bone nothing more than vulnerable skin.

  The Deceiver leaned in close and whispered into his ear. “I said I’d make you watch her die and I always keep my word.”

  No.

  “You won’t lay another finger on her.” The pain throughout his midsection disappeared. Rage exploded from behind his sternum, the urge to rip, tear, and destroy overruling every thought, but not because of the beast. He pushed to his feet, but the fire had taken his energy. He crumbled again. He wouldn’t give up. Couldn’t. Not until she was safe.

  “Let him go.” An unrecognizable voice laced with pure authority washed over him. He spun his attention to his left. Straightening a bit taller, Nika locked her white gaze onto the Deceiver. Strands of soft, blonde hair framed her face as she closed the distance between them. Features set in stone, he couldn’t read her thoughts, but instinct urged him to run in the other direction. He’d never seen a woman more beautiful, more addictive. And she was his. The Destroyer he’d feared. The Destroyer he’d fallen in love with. Hands curled into fists, she widened her stance. Ready for war. “You have two choices, asshole. Let us walk out of here alive with a promise you’ll never come after us again or find out exactly how much power I’m willing to expend on you. Which is it?”

  The Deceiver’s talons closed into Grayson’s side. His chin met his chest as he swallowed the second scream that clawed up his throat. He sucked in a deep gasp and connected his gaze with the demon slowly killing him. “Oh, God. I’m going to kill you for this.”

  “I choose neither.” The Deceiver clamped his grip harder and lifted his prey up overhead. The throne room blurred around Grayson as pain beyond imagination tore through his system. Harnessing every cell of remaining energy running through his veins, he braced for impact. He slammed into the stone at the Deceiver’s feet. His own bone, flesh, and muscle screamed.

  “No!” A burst of blinding white power exploded from Nika’s body. A glacier-cold river of energy sliced through the chamber, freezing the air in his lungs. He stared up at the black ceiling now turning ice blue and rolled onto his side. The Deceiver crumpled to the ground. She did it. She’d killed the Deceiver.

  Nika. Where was she? The thump of his uneven heartbeat filled the silence as he scoured the throne room. There. The dread wrapped along his spine disappeared.

  On her knees, she stared back at him with the crystal blue eyes he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about since he left her in the clearing. Exhaustion had carved heavy shadows underneath those beautiful blues and the second he got them out of here, he’d take her home to recover. He hefted himself to his knees, out of breath, mirroring her posture, and pressed his hands into his side. Blood loss was a bitch, but without power in his reserves, he couldn’t heal. Still, the urge to feel her skin pressed against his invigorated his muscles. He pushed to his feet and stumbled the short distance between them, his footsteps loud in his ears. Blood seeped between his fingers as he bent at the waist and offered her a clean hand. “Are you okay?”

  She nodded, but didn’t take his hand. “Is it over?”

  The Deceiver flipped over, calling their attention a few feet away. Blue patches of skin shattered along the bastard’s neck as he struggled to speak. Frozen puffs of air formed in front of his nose. Movements shaky, a large portion of his body had frozen solid. A deep laugh resonated throughout the chamber as the Deceiver smiled. “Your body...won’t be able to take it, Veranika Russo. No one’s can.”

  Pitch black eyes lightened to brown as the Deceiver’s features and body relaxed. The frozen puffs of air disappeared. The god of this domain was dead.

  Relief spilled from Grayson’s lungs. His power ebbed, leaving him empty and used. And he’d bet his soul Nika was going through the same withdrawal. He froze. What would happen to his soul now? Isabel had said whoever killed the Deceiver would inherit his powers and all that he possessed, but the bitch had lied one too many times in his experience. Warmth crawled across his palm as Nika entwined her fingers with his. “Grayson, you’re bleeding. We need to get you out of here.”

  “I’ll survive.” Muscles protesting, he pulled her to her feet and into him. Right where she belonged. Hints of lavender chased the sulfuric residue from his system. He caught her gaze in his then traced his fingertips down her sharp jawline. So soft. So beautiful. And his. Forever. After everything they’d been through—chasing murderers, killing demons, and discovering her powers—he never imagined finding this kind of happiness. Hadn’t even been a fantasy. But now that he had it, he’d kill a thousand demons before he let her go. “You were amazing.”

  She smiled up at him. “So were you. Even if you scare the shit out of me sometimes.”

  “The beast isn’t that bad,” he said. “I may not like having that kind of power inside me, ready to kill everything in sight, but there’s one thing we agree on.”

  “Oh, yeah? What’s that?” Nika burrowed deeper into his side and pressed her head against his chest as though craving to hear his heart beat.

  “You.” Grayson dropped his mouth to the crown of her head and inhaled as much of her as he could. Her sweet shampoo dove deep into his lungs. The memories of almost losing her to the Deceiver wouldn’t disappear so easily, but her scent helped. “I would’ve spent the rest of eternity finding a way to kill that bastard if he’d taken you from me. No matter the cost.”

  “Well, now you don’t have to. He’s dead.” She exhaled hard then lifted her head to stare up at him. Her gaze slid to his mouth. His lips urged him to close the small distance between them, to taste her again.

  Heavy footsteps drove his attention behind them. Sorren, carrying an unconscious Isabel across his arms, headed toward the front door without looking back.

  He moved to go after Sorren, but a strong, feminine hand kept him in place. “What are you doing? Isabel needs to answer for the murders she’s committed.”

  “Let her go.” Nika stared after the woman who’d taken the two people she cared about most. Compassion swam in her eyes. “It won’t solve anything. Rachel and Reynolds aren’t coming back.” She slid her hand around his midsection, careful to avoid his wounds. “Besides, I think she’s about to get everything she deserves out there in the mortal world without powers.”

  Pulling her into his arms, Grayson held her close, his heartbeat pulsing in rhythm with hers. He rubbed small circles into her lower back. “You’re far more compassionate than I would be. How was I so lucky to find you?”

  “Luck had nothing to do with it,” she said. “The Deceiver sent you to kill me.”

  “But I didn’t. That’s what we should remember from this experience. I didn’t kill you and now I can take you home,”—he lowered his mouth to hers, a brush of skin against skin—“get you into bed,”’—another kiss—“and make up for all the stress I caused you.” His hold strengthened on her arms. Her breasts pressed against him, nipples reaching for him through her thin T-shirt. He slipped his hand under the hem of her shirt, to get a feel of her. Lean muscle and warm skin sent electric tingles through his hand. God, w
ould he ever get used to the way she made him feel?

  “Mmm. That sounds nice. So does a shower—” Her eyes shot wide. Every muscle in her body tensed under his touch. Her mouth dropped open as she arched her back into him. Her knees buckled and panic gripped a rock solid vise around his heart. Fingers locked into his shirt in a death grip, she shook from head to toe as she had after Isabel’s bite.

  “Nika!” He caught her before she hit the ground. Her agonized scream filled the chamber and scorched a straight path to his heart. A surge of darkness rushed through the throne room, invisible, but there. The Deceiver. The beast stirred, but wouldn’t rise. Not enough power. “No. I won’t lose you.”

  She stilled in his arms and his heart stopped. He shook her slightly, scanning her from head to toe. “Nika.”

  Eyes wide, she stared up toward the defrosting ceiling, non-responsive. The life in her eyes had dimmed considerably, the pulse at her throat dead. Panic gripped him as he laid her on the ground gently. Pain ripped through his midsection, but he pushed it back. He tilted her head back, opening her airway, and pressed his mouth against hers. He swallowed back the sob building in his throat and pushed air into her lungs. He fisted his hands over her breast and pumped five short compressions to jump-start her heart. Whatever power had attacked her system disappeared, taking Nika’s life with it, but he’d bring her back. He had to bring her back.

  Howls reverberated throughout the chamber. Demons. Shit. Without a ruler, the damned had free reign and would tear apart everything in their way to escape the hell they’d been sentenced to for eternity. He didn’t have the power to corral them. No one but the Deceiver did.

  Or the Deceiver’s replacement…

  “Come on, Nika. Fight!” He breathed into her mouth again and pulled back. No change. Her lips took on a blue tint. The compressions did nothing but jerk her body upward, but Grayson wouldn’t give up. Her lavender scent thinned and something inside shattered. “Please. Stay with me.”

  Studying Nika’s paling features, he exhaled hard. No. Every choice he’d made thus far brought her into his existence. Tracking down that serial killer, damning himself for eternity, using his credentials to get on her sister’s case. Even the Deceiver had played his part to ensure their paths crossed. They belonged together. He couldn’t let her go. He’d become too selfish. Desperation took control. There was only one thing to do. He didn’t have much time. The demons had penetrated the fortress. Any second now, they’d come through those doors. He and Nika needed to be gone by then.

  He lifted her into his arms. Her limp body pressurized the air in his lungs as he brought the mortal he’d fallen in love with close to his heart. Sweat slid between his shoulder blades as he stared up through the eye of the tower and into the burning heavens. The battle between demons faded as he focused solely on quieting his mind and heart. It’d been centuries since he’d sincerely prayed to the Father for help, yet he’d begged for assistance twice when it came to Nika. “You listen to me, you son of a bitch. I’m not losing her again. If I have to, I surrender everything I am, my future, and my very soul to Veranika Russo in order for her to live. I don’t care what you have to do or what I’ll have to do in return. You bring her back to me. Now.”

  “Then it shall be done, Grayson,” an unfamiliar masculine voice said.

  Oxygen taken from his lungs, he collapsed to his knees, careful to hold onto Nika as exhaustion overwhelmed his body. His vision blurred, but through the darkness, streaks of blue colored her blonde hair from scalp to tip. Her skin took on a bluish hue along one side of her face and neck. A sharp inhale between her lips took the weight from his chest, but her lips remained blue. Her body temperature rose, warming him from the outside in as her white eyes focused on him. Paler than her mortal color in most places and blue everywhere else, she gasped.

  “Nika.” It’d worked. She’d survived. He smiled down at her and brushed her now blue hair back away from her face. Memorizing her features all over again, he pulled her into him. Memory of the drawings he came upon in his research flashed at the back of his mind. The Destroyer. The legend was real. Wildly powerful, intelligent, and blue, she embodied balance and justice. Just like Nika. He tightened his grip on her, never willing to let her go.

  She shoved out of his hold and bolted to her feet. His hands grew cold without her skin pressed against them and his heart raced with the thought she might try to run. It took her a moment to shake the confusion clouding her white eyes. Taking in their surroundings, she studied him from head to toe. She squeezed her eyes shut as though pain still resonated through her veins. Hands clasped on each side of her head, she closed her eyes. “Why does it sound like I have a million voices in my head?”

  Not the first question he’d expected, but a good one. “Because you do. The Deceiver punished beings by taking their souls. Isabel was right.” Shock pulled his attention away from her for just a moment. “You killed him. His power went into you. You inherited those souls and his responsibilities.”

  “He turned me into the devil?” Disgust laced her high-pitched question. Her gaze slid to the Deceiver’s body a few feet away. Her eyes widened. She dropped her hands, stumbling back. Toward the edge of the eternal drop off.

  Pain ripped through his side as he stood. He took a slow, single step toward her, close enough to catch her if she fell over the edge. Lifting a hand out to her, he shut down the need to rip her away from the drop off. She was in shock. Understandable. Not everything made sense right now, but the demons at the front door wouldn’t give a shit. “I can explain everything, but we need to get out of here. You’ve been through a major transformation. You need to rest. And eat.”

  “What happened to me? Why am I blue?” Introspection transformed her expression as she examined her blue-tinted hands. A wave of power brushed against him and stirred the monster buried deep inside. Not her power, at least not entirely, but a combination of hers and the Deceiver’s, something he never imagined possible. “I feel like I’ve been jumped with a dozen car batteries. I feel evil—”

  “You’re not evil,” he said. No way in hell. Not his Nika.

  She locked those translucent white eyes on him. “I’m not me anymore. He turned me into a demon by transferring his power to me. That’s what he meant when he said I couldn’t handle it.”

  The sorrow coating her voice gripped his heart violently. He wrapped his hands around her arms, not able to dig into her flesh quite as easily as before. “Yes, the Deceiver’s power killed you, but I…” He’d brought her back to life. At least, his prayer had. What that meant, what that made her, he had no idea.

  “I can feel you inside me. One of the voices…it’s you. I’d recognize that voice anywhere.” She flexed her fingers one by one into the center of her palm. “He had your soul.”

  Grayson swallowed hard. He couldn’t read her expression, but answered honestly for the first time he’d met her. No more lies. No more hiding the demons in his closet. “Yes.”

  “I’m a monster.” She cocked her head to the side as she studied him, a disconcerting demonic trait. Her expression fell. White eyes darkened to black, her power ebbing from scorching hot to a low simmer. In his next breath, the intensity of heat coming off her skin forced him to take a step back. Tears welled in her lower eyelids. “I’m just like Isabel.”

  “No. You’re not.” Grayson took one step closer. “You’re nothing like her.”

  “You should’ve let me die.” A hot surge of power burst from her core. It slammed against him and he hit the ground hard. His midsection screamed in protest. The demons at the door dropped into silence. A new ruler was in town. Her spiraling emotions intensified then bottomed out. The amount of pure power radiating from her raised the hairs on the back of his neck. Flames engulfed the walls without prejudice as the structure shook. Ripples of energy called his own power to the surface. The stones beneath his feet cracked from tremors vibrating under him and he struggled toward her. His ribs protested each step, but his heart
pushed him forward.

  “Don’t follow me.” A circle of flames exploded at her feet.

  He reached for her. “Nika, no!”

  She vanished.

  Chapter Twenty

  Two days since he’d turned her into the very thing she’d detested most. Two days without him. The hollow ache beneath her sternum hadn’t let up. Even with the hundreds of voices in her head keeping her company. Had she really expected him to let her die down in the Underworld? She swallowed the sob stuck in her throat. No. And she would’ve done the same for him.

  Sunlight glinted off the cherry coffin as her sister’s closest friends and family gathered at the gravesite. Everyone except her. Her aunts, uncles, cousins, and parents cried openly, their Rachel lost to them forever, but she’d never have the opportunity to comfort the people who needed her most. Too dangerous. Until she had better control of the darkness that ran through her veins, all she could do was watch from afar. Her stomach churned. She could never go back. Grayson had changed everything.

  A breeze swept through the surrounding trees and brought with it a hint of earth and wood. Nika breathed it deep into her lungs and closed her eyes. Flashes of him pressed at her thoughts. Those jade-green eyes studying her from head to toe. His smile rocketing her heart into overdrive. She’d missed that smell. Missed him. The energy she buried deep inside stirred, power recognizing power, like recognizing like. He’d found her, but the ache she’d held onto the last two days refused to release. Because it wouldn’t work between them. No matter how many times she’d tried to get rid of it, the power she’d inherited only grew stronger and nothing—not even him—could comfort the disgust she held onto. “I told you not to follow me.”

  “As you may have guessed, I don’t really follow orders well.” Grayson’s presence warmed her from the outside in as he maneuvered to her side. His energy crawled up her arms and into the hole that’d been ripped into her heart and her muscles relaxed for the first time in two days. The voices echoing in her mind quieted with him so close. The headache pounding from inside her skull eased and she rolled her neck to one side. Oh, relief at last. Every cell in her body urged her to close the inch or so between them, just to feel his skin against hers again, but she held her ground. Things had changed between them the second she’d become the Deceiver. He had to know that. So why come back? “I know this is an adjustment, but—”