by Melody Raven
“I don’t want a new phone. I want to know if Samuel has tried to contact me,” she moaned. “You are cutting me off from him and I want to know why,” she demanded, even though she knew he would tell her nothing. If he hadn’t admitted anything the first hundred times she asked, he wouldn’t now.
She thought they’d bonded the previous evening. Sure, they weren’t best friends, but she thought they had at least come to an understanding.
He acted as normal as a handcuffed demon could act when she woke, suggesting they head out quickly before anyone picked up their trail, and Muriel had agreed. She had changed into the new jeans that the hotel staff had left outside the door and a simple, flowing blue peasant blouse as quickly as she could. She was ready to leave when she turned to check whether she had any messages from Samuel. On the nightstand sat a charger, but no phone was with it. Thus ensued the past twenty minutes of her screaming and Kier playing dumb.
What was he trying to do? Why would he want to cut her off from Samuel? He hadn’t called her in years, and Muriel was not planning to call him. Kier had merely removed the possibility of communication with Samuel.
Unless he knew something she didn’t. What if he knew something was going down and he wanted to keep her out of the loop? What if he figured out a way to kill her and wanted to cut her off from any possible allies?
“It’s time to go,” he said from beside her.
“Screw you. I want my phone back.” She sounded like a broken record, but damn it, she was not going anywhere without her phone safely in her hands.
Kier just shrugged one big shoulder. “Suit yourself.” In one swift movement, he stood and lifted her over his shoulder. Surprise caused her to hold him tightly for balance. She was bent over his shoulder, maneuvered so his bound hand wrapped around her thighs, leaving her own cuffed wrist at an awkward angle across her butt.
He deftly picked up the machete, still wrapped in his jacket, and Muriel’s bag. “What the hell are you doing?” she bit out through clenched teeth as he boldly walked into the hallway, carrying her like a caveman. His shoulder painfully pushed into her stomach, and she took some solace in the knowledge he felt it too.
“I’m doing this my way. I have been playing nice with you for far too long,” he said.
“What exactly does your way entail?” The elevator dinged and she sent up a silent prayer of thanks when it was empty. Even fallen angels could be embarrassed.
“My way entails whatever I want.” He emphasized the statement with a swift pat on her behind. “You have a great ass. Anyone ever tell you that when you had wings?”
Her anger officially reached its tipping point as she screamed at him and pounded on his back. The bastard didn’t even flinch, though she knew she had some effect because she could feel pain in her own back.
“Don’t make this any more of a scene. Someone might call the cops.” He abruptly dropped her to her feet as the doors opened to the lobby. “Now walk to the car like a good fallen angel or I will just carry you out. Understand?”
“What are you planning?” she asked, still not moving.
“I plan on leaving. Are you in or out?” He shot an arm out to keep the elevator doors from closing as he stared down at her.
“It appears that I don’t have a choice.”
He smiled down on her as he led her from the elevator. “Darlin’, didn’t you know? There is always a choice.” With that, he turned and walked her out of the hotel, proving himself immune to the daggers her eyes shot at him.
In the car, Muriel sulked. There was no other word for it. She couldn’t hide her unhappy expression even if she wanted to try. He had effectively taken her hostage, and she couldn’t even hurt him to defend herself. He was using her own vengeance plan against her.
“Keep going west. The key is in New Mexico. I’ll release you as soon as we can get to it,” she said, finally admitting defeat.
He eyed her suspiciously as he started the car. “What makes you think I want to be released?” he asked, though he still turned west.
“Why wouldn’t you want to get away from me?”
“I just kidnapped you. I can’t let you go already! I’m not through with you yet,” he said with a sideways grin.
She shook her head and rolled her eyes at him. She looked out the window at the passing scenery and refused to say another word to him—which lasted a whole ten minutes.
“Hey, Muriel, I know you’re pissed right now, but did you happen to notify the cops that I was kidnapping you?”
“What? When would I have had the chance?”
“That’s what I thought,” he muttered. “We’re being followed by a police car.”
Muriel whipped around to look out the rear window and, sure enough, there was a marked patrol car behind them. “How long has it been there?”
“About three miles and four turns. I didn’t want to say anything right away, but now I’m pretty sure they’re tailing us.”
“I don’t have insurance and this car is not registered under my name. Were you speeding?”
Muriel couldn’t see who drove the police car, but she could see that there were at least two people in it, a driver and a passenger.
Kier seamlessly moved through traffic, but every time he turned down a side road, the police car followed him. “I don’t speed.” He was completely calm, as if nothing was wrong.
As Kier moved the car off the main road, it became evident that their pursuers were no longer trying to be subtle. They closed the gap between the two cars.
“Do you have any idea what you’re doing?” she asked Kier. Demons had the ability to teleport whenever they needed to go somewhere, so they weren’t exactly known for their driving abilities.
He shot her a quick smile. “Well, I do watch a lot of action movies.” With that, he turned onto a highway surrounded only by the rich farms of northern Texas. As soon as the turn was completed, he slammed on the gas.
Muriel’s heartbeat pounded in her head as the cruiser behind them also sped up. “How are we supposed to outrun them? This isn’t exactly a sports car.”
The outside scenery flashed by in a blur. The cruiser was mere inches from Muriel’s bumper. Kier deftly swerved around a truck in front of them to buy a few more feet of space.
“Why aren’t their lights on?” he asked as the car reached speeds that caused Muriel’s head to spin.
“You should buckle up,” she squeaked out.
“I don’t think I’m in danger.”
“No, but I’m buckled in. If we wreck, I don’t want you to go flying out the windshield while still attached to my arm.”
“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, but there was no time to do anything, as there was a car in both lanes of the two-lane highway. Kier swerved onto the shoulder to avoid a collision, and the change of traction caused the car to slide dangerously.
Muriel closed her eyes and waited for the impact of the car rolling over.
Have to keep her alive. Have to keep her safe. It was the only thought that raced through Kier’s mind. He tried to appear calm, but he could not think of a good way out of this.
Car chases were an art form. A skilled driver could lose a tail anywhere, but he was not a skilled driver, nor was he just anywhere. He was in the middle of nowhere. There were no narrow streets he could escape down or buildings he could hide behind. There were just miles and miles of open farmland and straight, unbending roads.
He knew this was no normal police chase. For one, there were no sirens blaring behind him. The other giveaway was that the two people in the cruiser were not radioing for backup. With his sharp vision, he could see there were two men in the car, but the passenger was talking on a cell phone instead of a police-issued radio.
Oh, and the small fact that the woman sitting next to Kier had a price on her head big enough to entice every demon on the continent to drop what they were doing to look for her. Odds weren’t in their favor.
Kier clenched his jaw as he steered t
he car back onto the road, just barely keeping control of the vehicle. The road was relatively clear now, but he knew it was only a matter of time before he would be driving on the dirt again. It was unavoidable at these speeds.
Her car was dependable enough, but it wasn’t made for high-speed chases. He had to assume that her engine would fail before the newer-looking police cruiser’s did. His eyes darted over the flat farmland, seeking any way out of the chase.
They went over a bump in the road, and in the two seconds that their car was air-bound, Muriel’s hand tightly clasped over where his rested on the gearshift, as though seeking reassurance.
Have to keep her safe.
Part of him knew that if she died, he would as well, due to the binding spell, but it was more than that. He didn’t want her to hurt anymore, physically or mentally. He had known enough of her pain to last him a lifetime.
As they approached more cars, he held her hand tightly as he swerved onto the gravel and dirt shoulder again. He just barely controlled the car once they were clear of the law-abiding traffic.
“Shit,” Muriel whispered.
He looked farther ahead and his mind echoed her sentiments. Two cars formed a roadblock about half a mile up the road; a lone woman stood out in front of the cars. Faced with very limited options, Kier put even more power on the gas. “Hold on tight,” he yelled as he aimed right for the center of the makeshift roadblock, where there was a small gap. It was the best chance they had to make it through, and Kier was going to take it.
The woman who stood directly in front of the oncoming vehicle didn’t seem worried at all. She stood confidently until the last possible moment. When Kier was just ten feet away from her in the speeding Ford, she held up one arm, palm facing out. The impact on the car was like hitting a brick wall. The front end was completely smashed, and the momentum had the trunk end of the car rising off the ground until the vehicle stood straight up, balanced for a few seconds on the front bumper alone before gravity took hold and the car tipped on its side with jarring impact.
For a long second, Kier couldn’t move. Broken glass and the smell of hot metal assaulted his senses. The knowledge of imminent danger roused him to action. They were surrounded by enemies and trapped out in the open.
“Muriel, we need to move,” he croaked out, only then realizing how much his chest hurt from the impact. When he looked to Muriel, she was unconscious; her head limply rested against the broken window that was now right over the concrete of the highway.
“Give us the girl,” a man’s voice shouted from the road.
Kier growled deep in his throat. No one was taking her from him.
He tried to open his door, but at some point during the crash, it had jammed shut. He slammed his elbow into the driver’s side window, punching it until the already broken window was wide enough for him to squeeze through, though this had the unfortunate side effect of raining broken tempered glass over him and Muriel.
He looked back to Muriel and tried to think of the best way to safely lift her out of the car when the gunshots started. Three loud explosions of gunpowder echoed in the car as they tore into the windshield. Kier instinctively lunged toward Muriel to cover her body with his.
At the sudden intense pain in his right shoulder, he held back a groan of pain. Without taking a second longer to think, he wrapped his arms around Muriel the best he could with the cuffs and lifted her out of the wreckage.
As soon as his head emerged from the now busted window, more bullets rained down on them. He shielded Muriel with his body, but knew he wasn’t a good enough shield. He needed shelter.
Running was their best bet, giving their attackers a moving target. Holding her close to his chest, he took off as fast as his demon speed would allow in his injured state but quickly realized that there was no cover. Just fields.
“Drop the girl and you can live,” said the same asshole from behind him.
More gunshots; this time one hit him in his thigh. Muriel cried out in pain and he knew she felt the same pain as him. Apparently it was enough pain to wake her. Fresh anger filled him and he knew his eyes glowed with fire. “Fuck off,” he screamed back, not sure and not caring whether his pursuers could hear him.
He didn’t even know how many there were. There had been two in the cruiser chasing them, the telekinetic who had totaled Muriel’s car, and at least one other driver who had contributed to the roadblock.
Another bullet went through his knee, and his weight crashed to the hard earth. He landed on his good knee, Muriel still clutched close to his chest. He tried in vain to push himself up through the pain, but it was no use. The bullet had torn through something that was apparently necessary for standing.
One look at Muriel’s tense expression and he knew that the same agony he felt shot through her as well. They were surrounded and immobile. In other words, they were dead.
As he heard them approach, he gripped Muriel tighter. Her eyes revealed her pain, but her face remained calm. “I’m sorry,” she whispered as guilt flickered behind her lashes.
He was amazed. He had single-handedly destroyed her chances of becoming an angel ever again and he had done it with a smile. She should feel completely justified at his pain. She should revel in it, not regret it.
“I’m not.” He had to admit, if her face was the last thing he ever saw, his death wouldn’t be half bad.
“Drop the girl and step away,” said the man again.
Muriel’s eyes widened. “Samuel,” she whispered. Then louder, “Samuel! Don’t shoot!”
Samuel? Fuck.
“Muriel, are you okay? Has the demon hurt you?” asked Samuel.
“Don’t shoot him anymore!” She spoke loudly, but Kier could feel the toll that the effort put on her.
“Lower your weapon,” Samuel said to his partners.
Kier shuffled his weight around to face the infamous Samuel.
He didn’t know much about the man. He had never cared enough about the apocalypse to find out more than the basics that every demon knew. It was prophesied that Samuel must live to prevent the premature apocalypse, and before finding out about his supernatural destiny, Samuel had been a high-level black-ops agent for the government. A lost soul from Purgatory was sent to watch over him after the prophecy was first revealed; after protecting him for the summer, she fell in love with him and now they fought against the apocalypse and Azazel together.
Oh, and the small fact that Muriel had gladly given up her wings for him.
That irked him more than he would’ve liked to admit. Was the lost soul the only one who had developed feelings for this Samuel? Had Muriel’s feelings for him clouded even an angel’s judgment?
Like Kier, Samuel was tall, with dark hair and brown eyes, but that was where the similarities ended. Samuel was loaded with muscle that came from a rigorous and brutal workout regimen. His skin was a light bronze, a combination from various ethnicities and lots of sunlight. If needed, he could pass as Arabic, Latino, or African-American. Ideal for a former spy and mercenary.
“Why can’t you stand? Did the demon do something to you?”
He was really hung up on the demon thing. Muriel opened her mouth to speak, but Kier knew that the pressure on her lungs hurt. “You just crashed her car and shot at her two dozen times, you idiot. Did you ever stop to think that the problem might be you?”
Samuel’s eyes narrowed and he gripped his gun tighter, though he didn’t raise it. “I’m bound to him, Samuel,” said Muriel. “Whatever happens to him, happens to me.”
“God damn it!” Apparently Samuel was only now concerned with the three bullet wounds that gushed blood from Kier’s torso and leg.
“Now he gets it. Fucking moron,” muttered Kier, earning him a soft punch on the arm from Muriel that hurt him much less than the pain they both felt from her moving her arm. “I’m worried about those ribs,” said Kier in a tone low enough that only she could hear.
“I would be more worried about convincing Samuel n
ot to kill you. Play nice,” she warned.
Kier looked over to GI Joe. Fat chance of that ever happening.
Suffering from three bullet wounds and a couple broken ribs in the middle of nowhere would’ve been preferable to the hell that Muriel was currently in the middle of.
She was the only thing keeping Samuel and Kier from murdering each other, and she was already tired enough from her wounds. Playing referee to their bickering was positively exhausting.
After Muriel convinced Samuel that Kier couldn’t be hurt without suffering the pain herself, he called off his men—well, two men and one woman—and quickly helped Muriel into the police cruiser to get medical attention.
The ride had been full of quiet tension. Muriel didn’t know the people with Samuel and did not want her secrets out in the open. She promised him that she would tell him everything as soon as they were alone.
Samuel spent most of the ride on the phone trying to locate a doctor used to the ways of the supernatural. One who wouldn’t run screaming when they saw Kier’s rapidly healing wounds and the handcuffs that caused Muriel to share his injuries.
She knew that he also shared the constant ache in her chest. Because it hurt her to talk or take deep breaths, Kier answered all the questions directed at her, usually with sarcastic or rude comments. He wasn’t winning over any friends.
Samuel led them through an abandoned office building until they reached what used to be a break room. Muriel hadn’t been paying attention to the road, so she had no idea where they were. They had driven about an hour. They were probably still in Texas, but pretty close to the New Mexico border.
Once inside the makeshift doctor’s office, Muriel saw a fit, middle-aged man waiting for them. Judging by his bag of equipment and stethoscope around his neck, he was the doctor. Muriel had never been to the doctor in the five years she’d been living among humanity, but she was pretty sure that most of them didn’t wear leather chaps and steel-toed boots.