Domiel (17 page)

One question remained. She felt sick asking it, but she couldn’t stop herself. “You still love me … but will … I mean we’re still a couple, right?”

He took a deep breath, his brows coming together. “I don’t know, Lexie. I honestly don’t know.”

Chapter Eleven

Lexie had been with Domiel when Kelsey had connected with her, so there was no avoiding him. He’d insisted Kelsey meet him at a new location.

The tension that threaded through Kelsey’s body as she laid out her weapons on the hotel bed reminded her of an angry nest of disrupted bees. Her nerves were taut with anxiety, and Domiel’s looming shadow didn’t help. He’d watched her in silence as she’d carefully assembled the arsenal Domiel had materialized over the smooth tackiness of the comforter. After she’d finished, sitting in sullen reverie on the aforementioned comforter, she’d felt his stare like a physical caress down the length of her spine.

For the most part, she’d done her best to ignore him. Better to do that than face what she’d done to him; taken his trust and slapped him across the face with it.

Lexie hadn’t called with news of Samael’s condition. The last thing Kelsey should do was connect with her again. The demon would be on her ass with head-spinning quickness. And like a dumbass, she hadn’t asked what hotel Lexie and Azazel were staying at, so she couldn’t pick up the phone and call.

Somehow it didn’t strike her as a brilliant idea to call Samael’s hotel room, anyway.

For what seemed hours she’d done nothing but track the drops of rain that pelted the window of their room, sitting on the edge of the bed and contemplating her options. Domiel was right. This demon was corporeal somewhere; she just had to figure out where. The problem with that scenario was the knowledge that the demon could take her down the second he spotted her approaching. That was how she fought most of the time when backed into a corner. Eliminate the threat by taking them to the dream realm, or just like she’d done to Domiel, take them to only a level of the subconscious.

Then she’d be back at square one—fighting him in the dream realm, which wasn’t a fight she’d win.

After a few hours of contemplation, that was the only option she could embrace, other than turning herself into the Alliance, which would be the same as committing suicide. Never a fan of losing her life, she’d nixed that idea as swiftly as it had come.

“How will you find him?”

It disturbed her that Domiel was suddenly so agreeable about her decision to track the demon down. He hadn’t once told her she was making a mistake, when just hours before he’d told her it was a mistake to go after him alone. Not that she’d told him she was going solo. What could Domiel do that she couldn’t? His powers were no match for an incubus, so his presence meant little in the grand scheme of things.

“I’m not sure,” she answered honestly. She left out the part where he wasn’t going.

Domiel wrapped his fingers around her wrist in an attempt to get her to look at him. She pulled her arm out of his grasp, but she didn’t turn around to face him, keeping her gaze on the window. “You’re not alone, Kelsey.”

Beyond the thin pane of glass streaked with rainwater, lonesome buildings stood fast against a dreary sky. Although the storm raged on, the buildings looked strong enough to weather anything. She envied these silent sentries in the horizon. She needed to be as strong.
But they’re not empty inside.
“Don’t. This isn’t your problem. If you’d only seen what he did to Samael, you wouldn’t fight me on this.”

“You think you’re going alone? He wants you to do this, and you’re tripping over yourself to give him what he wants.”

She glanced down at her weapons laid out on the bed, but didn’t really see any of them. This nightmare had gone on long enough. “I need to end this. I can’t allow him to keep striking out at everyone I know. I should have done this a long time ago.”
Understatement of the year.

He palmed her cheek, gently turning her face up to his. The rigid set of his jaw, strong and masculine, begged to be touched. The scattering of whiskers he’d only begun to sport in the past few days added to his sexual appeal.

But it was his softly spoken question that stole her heart. “What can I do?”

Her answer was immediate. “Stay out of it.” Finding it difficult to push him away while looking into his golden eyes, she focused on the gray buildings again. His hand fell back to his lap.

“I can’t do that.”

His mission was to apprehend her, and Ambrose had upgraded the job into an assassination overnight. Somewhere along the way Domiel had turned into a friend. A lover. His concern and his tenderness seemed sincere, but could he be using those emotions as a way to keep his eyes on the prize? Would he willingly fail his first important assignment for the Alliance? “My assassination is beyond you now. You don’t need to keep an eye on me.”

“Is that why you think I offered to help? To keep an eye on my hit?”

“I can’t deal with this right now.”

“You’ll deal with it because you have no choice. I’m not giving you one.”

She knocked his hand away with a swipe of her arm. “Don’t change your ways now. Add another notch to your bedpost and move on.” It bothered her to say those words, but damn it, didn’t he understand what she was up against?

“Is that what you think this is?”

No. And that’s what scared her the most. The incubus would soon figure out she cared about Domiel, and then what would happen? He’d die. “Pretty much. You held out in the beginning, so bravo to you, but you eventually came around with a little provocation.”

She was deliberately trying to hurt him, and in doing so, turning the subject on its ass. She couldn’t look at him, especially not after what she’d just said. Maybe now he’d back off.

“What gives him power over you? What aren’t you telling me?”

Domiel was hitting too close to home, and the urge to tell him the truth was so very tempting. But how could she tell him about the possession, and the incubus’s part in it? That she’d held onto him, weak and needy? That he’d been there the day she’d been turned into a vampire—the day her entire family had been slaughtered? She was empty inside, and had been for as long as she could remember. Regurgitating those memories wouldn’t fill that gap in her soul, and involving him would only endanger him. “Enough.”

He whipped her around to face him, and this time he didn’t let go or allow her to pull away. The pupils of his eyes were tinged with red. “I finally understand, Kels. It wasn’t enough to know
why
Samael was giving everything up for Jade. I had to feel it for myself.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying you’re going to tell me everything, right now, because you aren’t going at this alone. I will not allow it.”

This was the second time she’d really recognized him as a threat, and the first time she realized she should have thought of him as a threat since the beginning. Just because he normally had displayed a sense of humor and an easy-going nature, he was fallen. A demon. She also knew he wouldn’t hurt her, and possibly he wouldn’t judge her.

It made her admission a little easier. “I welcomed him, Domiel. That’s why he’s back.”

* * * *

Jade rolled her shoulders and glanced around the hotel room. If Samael could go down this hard, any one of them could. It’s what all the assassins were thinking as they took up space in diverse places in the hotel room. Roger sat at the small desk by the window, checking emails on his laptop and corresponding with Ambrose. Rain pelted the window, a definite parallel to everyone’s moods.

Sven was talking to someone at the door. Who, Jade had no idea. A few minutes ago Sven had been lounging on the floor with his legs kicked out in front of him, flipping through the channels.

They were all avoiding the emotion none of them had any experience with—fear. Because, yeah, it was truly scary to think about fighting something you’d never seen, a thing you’d never been trained to fight against. How could you fight something in the dream realm?

The worst part was that Kelsey was the one instilling fear.

Jade couldn’t wake Samael. He lay on one of the double beds, pale and wounded. She couldn’t recall ever hearing of a demon being in a coma. They usually healed swiftly, with no scars visible from even the most heinous of wounds. His wounds had healed somewhat throughout the night, and yet his breathing remained shallow. He had dark circles under his eyes. Helpless didn’t begin to describe what Jade felt as she ran her palm over his arm.

“Jade, eat something.” Sven gestured toward a room service trolley loaded with a stomach-churning amount of breakfast stuff. Orange juice, greasy sausage, eggs over easy and scrambled, and some toast. She wanted none of it.

As she looked at Sven, she was jolted by the image of him helping wash her husband’s blood off her hands. Jesus, that vision would likely haunt her for life. It sure as hell wasn’t something that inspired an appetite. She shook her head. “No, thanks.”

Though she seemed melancholy on the outside, rage built inside, as stormy as the violent weather outside the window. When she got a hold of that bitch, she was going to kill her slowly. Hurt her bad. The thought of her best friend doing this to Samael pissed her off to such a degree, she had daydreamed about killing Kelsey with her bare hands throughout the day.

Obviously the Alliance had been wrong to believe Kelsey had recuperated after her possession. Kelsey had said she was fine, but something must have snapped to make her do shit like this. Nonetheless, the damage had been done, and Jade wasn’t the forgiving kind. Not when it came to Samael.

She looked down at her husband, pulling back the comforter to check one of the nastier wounds on his chest. When she peeled away the bandage she saw red, ravaged skin. She carefully smoothed the bandage back in place, gritting her teeth.

Like everyone else in this hellhole of a room, she had to be patient. Wait for Samael to wake up, see if he could identify his attacker. Not one of them wanted to go after Kelsey, but if she was the one who’d done this…

Roger’s cell rang. Jade looked up with heavy eyelids as he spoke quietly.

Roger flipped his cell shut as he got up from his chair. His white button-up shirt was wrinkled, his jacket having been ditched because of all the blood on it. “Azazel and Alexia will be here in five minutes.”

Jade wanted to curl up to Samael’s side and sleep, but she didn’t dare relax her vigil. His body couldn’t take much more, and she’d be damned if she’d leave him vulnerable. She adjusted her weight on the hard hotel bed and smoothed Samael’s hair from his forehead. Never having seen him so weak, she wasn’t sure what she could do other than sit by his side. She recalled a time he’d thrown snowballs at her just before they had infiltrated a vic’s house together. She’d thought his playful side had been reckless. She’d do anything to go back to that time and see his smile again.

It amazed her how much she took for granted on a day-to-day basis. The acidic grip of regret had held her tight for the past few hours. Her biggest regret was her decision to go rogue against the Alliance. Yes, her friend had needed her help, but she’d gone against her boss’s and her husband’s wishes to do so.

Then there were the simpler regrets—not taking advantage of the time she and Samael shared. Not telling him she loved him more often. She bent down and kissed his temple, rectifying that last regret with a few simple words.

Could he hear her?

There was a solid knock on the door, and Roger let Alexia and Azazel in. Azazel came in first, marched straight to Samael’s side and grasped Samael’s shoulder. He then reached down and moved the comforter to access Samael’s wounds. Azazel’s black T-shirt didn’t hide the bite marks on his wrist. Just more regrets to deal with. He didn’t speak to her, and she didn’t expect him to. Not after what she’d done to him.

“How is he doing, Sven?”

Sven picked over the breakfast she’d refused. “He’s hanging in there. His wounds aren’t healing very fast, and we can’t wake him.”

Azazel slipped the comforter back in place. Jade lowered her gaze, shamed by her own behavior. Normally she took pride in her actions, however insidious and insane they may be to others.

When Azazel grasped her hand and squeezed, she took a deep breath to keep tears from falling. Even though she’d screwed him over, he understood she was hanging on by a thread. She welcomed the strength he offered, wishing for the world that she could take back what she’d done to him against his will.

“Kelsey didn’t do this.”

Apparently Lexie hadn’t reached the slippery slope of regret just yet. The rage Jade had kept bottled up roared to the surface, begging to be let out. She let go of Azazel’s hand and turned to face Lexie. She’d known Lexie would start this bullshit all over again—had anticipated it. “What the fuck do you know about it? You weren’t even there.”

Lexie, surprisingly weaponless—at least to the naked eye—squared off behind Azazel. “I’ve spoken to Kelsey and Domiel. There’s a demon framing her, and they believe he’s an incubus.”

Jade left the bed for the first time in four hours, her muscles aching from being solitary for so long. “She was knifing him in the chest. I
saw
her.” She waved her hand to indicate the others. “We all saw her.” Roger stepped in front of her, because he knew she was about to take Lexie to the floor.

“She was trying to stop him from inflicting wounds on himself. She connected with me and told me all of it. Samael was being controlled by the demon. Kelsey would never do this.” Lexie ignored Azazel’s attempt to shut her up, and stepped around him. “You
know
Kels didn’t do this.”

There was a time Jade would have said the same thing, and she’d done it not hours ago. But that had been before she’d witnessed Kelsey mutilating Samael with her own eyes. “Samael was going to assassinate her, and I would totally understand if she wounded him to get away, but look at him! He hasn’t even cracked a fucking eyelid since the fight. It’s been nine
goddamn
hours!”

Alexia stood her ground. “Kelsey didn’t do this.”