Beauty Awakened

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

THE FRONT DOOR of Nicola’s home swung open, the hinges moaning in protest. The two females marched inside.

“—almost killed me,” Laila was saying.

“No, I was protecting you,” Nicola retorted.

“Yes, but from what?”

Finally. They had returned.

Koldo rose from the couch, the only piece of furniture he’d left behind since he’d had no room for it. A little while ago, he’d sensed that Nicola was in trouble. But he’d flashed to the park and she hadn’t been there. He’d flashed to all the other places she liked to visit, but had had no luck.

He’d returned to her house, where he’d waited. And waited.

Now, relief failed to overshadow his anger. Where had she been? What had happened to her? He needed to know. Not because she was his charge. Not because he would be penalized if something happened to her. But because. Just because.

He searched her in a single glance. Her color was higher than usual, and worry glazed those storm-darkened eyes. Her hair was a mess, tangled and sporting several pieces of grass.

Nicola ground to an abrupt halt, and Laila slammed into her from behind.

“Koldo,” Nicola said, exasperation giving way to nervousness. She ran a hand down the length of her ponytail. “You’re here.”

A moment passed in silence. He wanted to demand answers, but he held his tongue. He would shout, and she would fear him, and that would only strengthen the demon toxins.

“You’re Koldo?” Laila asked, her tone incredulous. She had zero color in her cheeks, and fatigue dulled her eyes. “But you look just like—uh, never mind. There’s no way I can say that and not insult you. And I’m rambling. I’m sorry. It’s just that you’re so big and...well, never mind.”

He had been mentioned by name. He wondered what all had been said.

“Wait. Hold everything.” Frowning, Nicola turned in a circle. “I think I was robbed. My pictures are gone. And so are my vases and blankets and pillows. Everything but my couch.”

I can have a conversation without raising my voice. I can. A tiny human female could not anger him more than his mother and his father ever had. “You weren’t robbed. I moved everything to my house in Panama. Now, I want you sitting at the kitchen counter in the next two minutes. Or else.” He didn’t wait for her reply, just stomped into the desired room.

To his surprise, she dogged his footsteps, even caught his wrist. He could have easily tugged from her grip. Instead, he reveled in his first contact with her in three days. Far too long. He had to feel this soft, soft skin, and those hands—no longer cold, but warm—every day or he would not be content.

“Or else, what? And what’s going on?” she demanded. “Why did you move my stuff to Panama?”

He swung around and anchored his hands onto her waist. He lifted her up, swung back around with her as she yelped, and placed her on the nearest chair. There. He had her where he wanted her, the tattoo equipment on the counter and ready to use.

As he put the pieces of the gun together, he said, “I don’t want you living here any longer. It isn’t safe.”

She searched his face, and sighed. “Apparently, it isn’t safe anywhere.”

Not the reaction he’d expected. “Why do you say that?”

“We were at the park and several demons chased us.”

His instincts had been right. She had been in danger. And he had failed to protect her. He could have lost her. Stupid, foolish, unwise, ignorant man! Yes, that’s what he was. He should have searched more diligently. Should have done something. Anything. “Did they hurt you?”

“No,” she replied, and he was able to relax. “You told me to call upon the Most High, and I did. He sent in the troops. Whoever was closest, I guess, just like you promised.”

Thank You, Most High.

“Alleged demons.” Laila strolled into the kitchen. “All I saw were giants. And I’m the twin sister, by the way. Just so you know, I’m not quite as gullible as my darling Co Co. Sorry, honey,” she said. “I don’t mean any offense.”

Nicola offered a small though genuine smile. “I know. I also know that you’ll come to eat those words one day.”

“Demons are very real, I assure you,” Koldo said, opening the packages of ink.

“Yeah, and you’re a Sent One.” Laila anchored her hands on her waist. “Listen, you’re taking advantage of an innocent—humph!”

He’d dropped the gun and grabbed her, tugging her into the hard line of his body. With a final look at Nicola, who jumped from the chair, possibly to attempt to free her mouthy sister, he flashed to the roof of a training facility in Germanus’s realm of the skies.

The huge building was perched atop a mile-long cloud, the edges of that cloud dipping into an aqua sky, stars twinkling even during the day. Laila looked down, down, down at the earth so very far away, and screamed with bloodcurdling fear.

“Still think I’m taking advantage?” He didn’t wait for an answer but flashed the girl inside the building, to the room where Sent Ones were taught how to fight demons. Once there, Koldo remained in the spiritual realm, forcing Laila to open her inner eyes and finally see.

A young trainee swung a sword of fire as two envexa darted from floor to ceiling, ceiling to wall. The warrior had wings of white with thin strips of gold, an indication of his warrior status. Joy-bringers possessed wings of solid white. The Elite, like Zacharel, possessed wings of solid gold.

Though fully grown, the demons were the size of ten-year-old boys, with thick humanoid bodies and skin as green as toxic slime. They had hooks rather than hands, and long, thin tails with barbs.

Laila trembled against Koldo, her mouth opening and closing, small gasping sounds emerging.

“They’re real,” he said, “and they’re evil. They roam the earth, stalking humans like you, and would love nothing more than to ruin your life and cut it short. And you have been letting them.”

“I—I—”

“Can overcome them, yes. I’m here to help you.” Taking pity on her, he flashed her back to Nicola’s living room and gave her a little push toward the hall. “You may go to your room now.”

“R-room. Yes. Thank you.” With her arms wrapped around her middle, she tripped her way around the corner. A door clicked shut.

“What did you do to her?” Nicola demanded, stomping forward and banging her fists into his chest.

As slight as those fists were, he barely registered the impact. “I proved that demons do, in fact, exist.”

“You should have eased her in. She had a tough day, and that kind of stress couldn’t have been good for her toxin levels.”

“Some people can be eased. Some must be shoved. Now we will return to the kitchen. I’ll tattoo your arms and you’ll tell me everything that happened at the park.”

“Wait. What? Tattoo my arms?” she squeaked.

He urged her forward. “For your added protection against the demons.”

A little dazed, she flopped into the chair. “I’ll tell you about the park,” she said quietly, “but first you’re going to tell me about this move. Then we’ll talk about the tattooing.”

“My home is fortified against evil.” He owned a cloud of defense, and that cloud now surrounded the property, acting as a barrier against the rest of the world. “Yours isn’t.”

“But—”

“No buts. I was attacked the last time I was here. That’s why I’ve been gone. I was recovering.”

A gasp slipped from her. “You were hurt?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, Koldo. I’m so sorry. I had no idea.” She placed her hand over his, a gesture of remorse, kindness.

A gesture that caused his blood to flash-heat to white-hot.

“It wasn’t your fault,” he said, his voice rough. He was responsible for his own distraction. “Now, what happened at the park?”

She propped her elbows on the counter, ending the contact, and he wanted to howl.

He was that needy for her?

Pressing his tongue against the roof of his mouth, he finished with the ink. He’d chosen a deep, rich red that, at first glance, would cause most people to assume she was bleeding. But he didn’t exactly care what other people thought. He wanted her tattoo to match his.

She was his charge, after all. There was no more to it than that.

For the first time in his life, he thought he tasted a lie and grimaced.

“These demons...” She shuddered. “They weren’t like the monkeys. They were worse. They were snakes! They slithered from the trees and on the ground and chased after us, and—”

“Snakes?” he interjected, his stomach twisting.

“With antlers! And fur! They cornered us, surrounded us, and that’s when I called out to the Most High, and He sent angels—or maybe Sent Ones. They had large blue wings. A blue like I’d never seen before, radiant and sparkling, almost like a waterfall of glitter. And their robes were the brightest white I’d ever seen.”

“Real angels.” He nodded. “Continue.”

“There was a battle, and then, boom, the angels had won, the demons were gone and Laila and I were able to walk out of the park uninjured.”

So. The serps had returned for Nicola the very day Koldo awoke from their poisoning. That couldn’t be a coincidence.

“You’ll never regret being inked,” he told her. “What I put into your flesh will protect you, as the angels protected you today, but it will also do what they can’t. It will strengthen you when you’re at your weakest. Let me. Please.”

“But...but...”

“Have I ever lied to you? Ever steered you wrong?”

“No,” she admitted softly.

He reached out and traced his finger along the curve of her jaw. “Let me do this,” he repeated. “Please.”

A moment passed. Finally, determination hardened her features and she removed her sweater, rolled up her shirtsleeves. “Very well.”

Relief and satisfaction collided, and he wanted to pound his fists into his chest. She trusted him fully, nothing held back. That was a first, and he would do everything in his power to earn what she’d bestowed upon him. “I wish I could tell you otherwise, but this will hurt, Nicola.”

“I had a feeling,” she said drily.

Before she could change her mind, he got to work. At first, as the needle pounded into her skin, she cringed and she gasped. Twice he almost stopped, but both times he reminded himself that this was for her good. This was necessary.

“Distract me.” Her voice was strained. “Please.”

“How?”

“Tell me...how you age. Or if you ever will.”

“I was a little boy once, a child to my parents.” Now, he and his mother looked to be the same age. “I matured normally, like a human, until reaching the age of thirty. After that, my appearance remained the same. And as long as I live, my appearance will stay this way.”

That was true of most supernatural races. The Nefas, however, aged to fifty before stopping. He supposed it was because the vileness of their deeds rotted their souls, and rotted souls produced rotted flesh.

Koldo was glad the characteristics of the Sent Ones were stronger than those of the Nefas, allowing him to have hair, diffusing the black smoke.

“So...one day I’ll be an old lady but you’ll still look like a young, virile Viking?”

A Viking? That’s how she saw him?

And...she was right about the age thing, he realized. He’d never given the notion any thought because he’d never imagined himself with a human. But there was a way to prevent such an outcome. Zacharel had tied his life to Annabelle’s, ensuring she no longer aged. But if one died, the other would immediately follow. Koldo couldn’t make that same commitment to Nicola. He would have to share a piece of his tainted soul, and that he would never do.

And why should he bother sorting out his feelings on the matter now, anyway? She was interested in another male.

“Yes” was all he said, and left it at that. “Is there anything else you’d like to know?”

Nicola sucked in a breath as the gun glided over a sensitive tendon. “Will you do this to Laila?”

“If she will allow me.” He leaned back, studied the etchings. The scripted numbers began at her elbows and coiled all the way to her wrists.

161911213327.

219113215122231.

2209131520825418.

“Done,” he said, pleased.

Nicola’s head tilted to the side as she looked over the red, swollen flesh. “Is that some sort of code?”

“It is.”

“And what does it mean?”

“That you are protected by the Most High, and His strength is yours.”

“Very cool.” She traced a fingertip over several of the numbers. “There’s something so mesmerizing about each one, isn’t there? Almost as if they’re alive, holding my gaze captive.”

That’s because they were, on both counts. “The next time you see a demon, simply stare at the numbers as you’re doing now.”

“Stare? Really? And that will...what?”

“Save your life.”

“Well, all right, then.”

The cinnamon and vanilla scent of her wound around him, melding with his skin, claiming his attention. “Nicola?” he rasped.

She glanced up at him, licked her lips. “Yes.”

Whatever he’d meant to say, he forgot. He found himself stalking around the counter, standing just in front of her, between her legs. His hands tunneled through her hair, the strands soft, silky, tickling his skin.

She closed her eyes and leaned into his touch.

He wanted to kiss her. But he couldn’t. Not again. Every time he neared her, the desire grew. He wasn’t sure how he would react if it grew any more.

Throw her down and take her? Kill the man she actually wanted?

“Will you move to Panama with me?” he asked.

She licked her lips. “You’ll be there with me?”

“Yes.” He dared anyone to try and pry him away.

“And you’ll be happy to have me, even though I have nothing to offer you?”

Nothing to offer him? She was the gentle touch he’d always craved. The acceptance he’d never before had. And when she looked at him, he never felt as if he was a nuisance, as if he was beneath her. He felt...empowered.

But all he said was “I’ll be happy.”

“Then I would love to,” she replied without a single beat of hesitation.

“Good.”

“On two conditions,” she added, blinking open her eyes.

He stepped back, increasing the distance between them. “And those conditions are?”

She gulped and shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “You have to bring us back on Saturday. We, uh, well, we have a double date.”

He’d known, but hearing the words from her lips caused every ounce of his earlier fury to return—times ten. “You’ll not be going on any date, Nicola.”

Her mouth fell open, snapped closed. “I already said yes.”

“And now you’ll say no.”

A moment passed in stilted silence.

“Is that so?” she said with a quiet fury of her own.

“That’s so. You must do what I say, when I say. Remember?”

She drummed her fingers over the counter. “You once told me to do whatever was necessary to remain calm. You once told me to do whatever was necessary to find peace and sow joy. Well, the date seemed like my best bet at the time. So which would you have me do? Please you, or save my sister and myself?”

He clenched his jaw painfully. It was just as he’d suspected—and no matter his feelings, he couldn’t take this away from her. “Very well. Go on your date.” The concession scraped his throat, left it raw and burning.

Perhaps, while she was out with the male, Koldo would return to the Downfall. Perhaps he would allow the Harpy to dance for him. Perhaps he would kiss and touch the Harpy, and forget everything Nicola had ever made him feel. He wouldn’t ruin the Harpy, and the Harpy wouldn’t blame him for her troubles.

Yes, that’s what he would do, even though every cell in his body rebelled at the thought.

“What’s the second condition?” he demanded.

She exhaled with force. “You have to take me to my job at Estellä every weekday morning, and pick me up every evening.”

Yet another blow he was unprepared to deal with right now. “You won’t quit?”

“No. I have to make a living.”

Was that all? “I’ll pay you to live with me.”

Again her mouth fell open. “No. You won’t.”

“I’m paying your bills. One is the same as the other.”

“Actually, no, it isn’t. I won’t be dependent on you for my future.”

Understanding took root, and it didn’t sprout a pretty flower patch. It had gnarled limbs and dripped with blood. She would allow Koldo to clean up her past, but she was afraid he would muddy up her future—the one she planned to share with another male.

“Very well,” he said stiffly. “I agree to your terms.” And he would do more than take the Harpy. He would take others. So many others! As many as it took to find someone who made him feel the way Nicola did. Or had. Right now, the only thing he wanted from her was distance. And, all right, an apology.

“Now I know you’re related to the guy in the park,” she said snippily. “You look just like him when you glare like that.”

Guy at the park? He didn’t allow himself to leave. “What guy?”

“Well, the demons were with some very scary people. People as tall as you, with bald heads, even the girl, and fangs and a terrible black mist that rose from their bodies. And the first one I saw looked like an older version of you.”

At first, he was too stunned to react. But as he breathed, his thoughts aligned and the shock gave way to dread.

His father had survived the bombing.

His father was here in Kansas.

His father, he thought, dazed—the vilest male he had ever encountered.

“Did any of them touch you?” he demanded.

“No. They just looked at me and smiled the meanest of smiles.”

He should be relieved, but his emotions were simply too volatile. His father had approached Nicola. His father could have harmed her in the worst of ways. He could have absconded with her, and Koldo wouldn’t have known what had happened to her until too late. But Nox hadn’t done any of that. He’d wanted Koldo to know of his return.

How like the man, to deliver fear before the battle. And there was no question there would be a battle. Nox was here for revenge. After all, Koldo had destroyed the male’s entire camp. His harem of lovers, both slave and free. The best of his warriors. The bulk of his allies. Now, he hoped to hit Koldo where it would hurt most. Destroying the first female Koldo had ever taken under his care.

Well, I won’t let him. Koldo would have to find a way to strike first. To end this. Now. Forever.

He tugged Nicola to her feet. “Get your sister. I want you installed in my home within the hour.”

KOLDO FLASHED NICOLA and Laila to the living room of his ranch. “Look around,” he said, doing his best to mask his growing tension. Probably failing. “Change whatever you want. Eat whatever you want. I’ll be back.”

He hated to leave them so abruptly, without any more of a welcome, but his next task couldn’t wait.

As Nicola sputtered out a protest, he flashed to the cavern where his mother was stashed. This time, he didn’t hang around outside but stalked inside. With a single glance, he had the details memorized. Cornelia was dirtier than before, her robe stained with mud and blood, the hem frayed. Her short hair was matted at the sides. She sat in the corner of the cage, and there was a rat perched on her hand—a rat she was feeding a piece of grain.

She spotted Koldo and cursed. “Can’t you just leave me alone?”

“Your precious lover is stalking my woman.”

“I have no lover,” she spat.

“Oh, but you do. My father, the man you’ve pined for all these years, thinks to strike at me.”

Cornelia stiffened as she absorbed his words. The moment she accepted them as truth, she actually tossed the rat at him, the creature screaming along the way. Koldo caught him, set him down and watched as he scampered away.

Your first mistake was assuming she had a heart, little guy.

“Cruel even to your pets,” Koldo said.

She trembled, visibly fighting to keep her temper under control. If he wasn’t mistaken—and he had to be mistaken—there was a gleam of regret in her eyes.

“I thought he was dead,” she whispered.

“As did I. We were both wrong.”

Watching him intently, Cornelia stood on unsteady legs. “If he’s after you, you’re doomed. He’s crafty, and there’s nothing you can do to stop him.”

“I can kill him.”

“And that worked so well for you before?” she mocked with a hard laugh. “Especially now that you have a woman, did you say? I’m surprised one can actually stand to look at you.”

His woman. That’s what he’d called Nicola, wasn’t it? He would have to better guard his words, for the human was not his, not in that way, and now, she would never be. She had chosen another male. And Koldo couldn’t really fault her—even though he was still so angry he could tear this cavern apart rock by rock. She would be better off with one of her own kind.

“You should probably say goodbye to her.” Cornelia traced her fingertip along the bars beside her and grinned happily. “He’ll do the most horrendous things to her, and he’ll force you to watch. But you share his blood—maybe you’ll like that, huh?”

Koldo punched the cage so forcefully the reinforced steel bent backward.

Cornelia paled, backed away.

He had been forced to watch such behavior while chained inside Nox’s tent, and he had vomited every time. Had even tried to behead the man the first hundred times he was allowed to walk freely through the camp—and he had always been disciplined for his efforts. He would never—never!—enjoy watching such treatment.

“I protect what’s mine,” he gritted out. “But you protect no one. Did you witness such events when you were with him, huh, Mother? Did the two of you discuss it while you were snuggled in his arms?”

“Shut up!” She changed course, stomping forward. When she reached him, she gripped the very bars he’d harmed and attempted to shake them.

“I bet you did. I bet you were eaten up with jealousy when he turned his attentions to another.”

“You know nothing about me!”

“I know you’re exactly like him, a pretty face hiding rotten bones. And just so you know, I will kill him before he hurts the girl.” He should shut up. He should leave. His temper was overtaking him. If he wasn’t careful, he would erupt. But his feet felt anchored in place. “You’ll help me. Not because you love me, but because you want him to suffer for abandoning you. Isn’t that right?”

She popped her jaw, some of the anger leaving her. “I do want him to suffer.”

“Then tell me. What are his weaknesses?”

“You spent the most time with him. You should know.”

He should, shouldn’t he? But then, to him, Nox had been the pinnacle of strength, an unstoppable force. Koldo had been surprised to deliver the deathblow, especially from a distance.

Should have chosen up close and personal, as I craved.

Then, he should have taken the time to identify all of the remains. But he’d assumed Nox had been burned to ash—had wanted to believe it so badly.

Mistakes, he realized now. He wouldn’t make another.

“Will you help me or not?” he demanded.

Cornelia lifted her chin, haughty despite her circumstances. “I will not.”

“Not even for a human?”

“Oh, I’ll help a human. Any but yours,” she added.

Koldo tried to calm his raging nerves. A thousand times these past few weeks, he could have killed this woman. But he’d never even bruised her.

As a child, he’d only ever wanted her love. Offered freely. And when it was clear he wouldn’t be getting that, offered through bribes. Yet time and time again she had rejected and denied him.

In that moment, peering into her defiant, hate-filled face, his restraint vanished. His control finally snapped. He’d had enough.

For once, she would know the pain he’d experienced at her hands. For once, she would understand the depths of betrayal. For once, she would fear the things Koldo could do to her.

“Let’s see if I can change your mind, shall we?” He withdrew a razor from the air pocket at his side and flashed into the center of the cage—the only way in or out. “I look like my father, even though I despise him. I think it’s only fair that you look like him, too, since you’re clearly still in love with him.”

Her eyes widened, and she backed away from him, as far as she could possibly get. “You wouldn’t dare,” she cried. “My hair has only just begun to grow back.”

Her words merely proved how little she knew about him. “Just like you wouldn’t dare to take my wings?”

She leaned toward the left, then darted to the right, trying to avoid him as he closed in. “You disobeyed me. You had to be disciplined.”

“Not that way.” Koldo flashed to just in front of her and latched on to her upper arms. It was their first contact since he’d carried her out of the depths of hell and brought her here. She was thinner, practically skin and bones, reminding him of Laila. Laila, the very image of Nicola. But that didn’t soften him, either, and wouldn’t stop him. In fact, it made him far angrier.

“Your only goal was to make me suffer,” he said, shaking her. “Why?”

He shouldn’t have asked. He regretted the question immediately, and knew it revealed the hurt he’d never been able to shed.

“I couldn’t allow you to turn out like him,” she said, and all the fight vanished from her. She peered up at him with more of that hatred. “I should have known it was a useless cause.”

I’m nothing like my father! “So you despised him.”

“Yes,” she hissed.

“Yet you slept with him.”

“Yes! All right? Yes. I could tell you he tricked me. I could tell you it was a moment of weakness. What do you want to hear?”

His grip tightened as he gave her another shake. “The truth.”

Utterly calm, she said, “You were a mistake. That’s the truth.”

With her words, she ripped a scab off his heart, and the wound bled into his soul. “You’re right,” he said, wishing he were emotionless. Instead, he was so torn up inside he wasn’t sure he would ever be able to put himself back together. “I was a mistake. And now I’ll show you why.”

He pushed her face-first into the ground, held her down with a knee in the center of her back and, while she screamed and tried to fight her way free, removed every strand of her hair, until he scraped her scalp clean.

The sound of a woman screaming, the sight of her struggling, caused so many terrible memories to rise. But even when he closed his eyes and shook head, the images wouldn’t leave him.

He’d never stopped being the man his father had made him, he realized. And he never would.