Her Black Heart (The Dark Amulet Series Book 2) (17 page)

CHAPTER

FORTY-FIVE

Ra’zael

Raz waited out in the bedroom. Julia had gone into the bathroom fifteen minutes ago. What was she doing in there? He’d grown stiff thinking about how it felt to be inside her. The angel knew he had a limited time to be with her. His instincts told him she wanted the amulet back for keeps. The actualization would destroy her, or worse—finally give Abaddon his hundredth female to complete his harem. With the last piece, he could rise to full power, be anything he wanted, and release the native beasts into this realm, turning them into evil humans. Earth would become Hell.

“Oh, Deus.” He would have no choice but to kill her, if that happened. Oh, who was he kidding? He’d have to ask a Warrior to do it.

Ra’zael was a Guardian angel not a Redeemer. What was Deus thinking, putting him in charge of this? He couldn’t fight for shit. He looked menacing with deep set eyes and a brooding demeanor but he wasn’t a lion, he was more like a declawed cat that thought he still had nails. Humans and demons were easy to put in their place, but other angels, Julia…no way. Now that he knew the truth of his origin, he couldn’t pretend to be something he wasn’t. He wasn’t equipped for this. At. All. He only hoped his female wouldn’t figure out she could run over him.

He stalked to the bathroom and twisted the knob. Julia spun around. Raz zeroed in on her mouth. The sweet taste of Taint reminded him of spiced rum. She parted her lips for his tongue. He broke his private oath to never kiss anyone again. They didn’t have much more time and he wanted all of her right now. Wrapping his muscular arms around her, he picked her up and walked backward toward the bed. They didn’t make it. He positioned her on her hands and knees on the floor. He lowered his jeans. She gasped when he yanked her pants down her thighs. With no time to waste, he plunged past her pink folds.

“Oh, God,” she whimpered.

“I. Need. You. Right. Now,” he said with each thrust.

“You have me.”

Raz didn’t hold back like he did on the train. He propped himself up on his hands. Julia’s arms gave out and he pinned her to the carpet with his hips, driving her hard. He was a mad scientist and she was his crazy experiment. Sweat beaded then ran down his back and made their bodies slick.

“Ra’zael. Oh. God!”

Her inner walls pulsed all around his cock. “Oh, Deus. Julia…oh, oh.” His orgasm surged forth. He shuddered over and over until nothing was left. As his breathing slowed, he rested his forehead between her wings.

CHAPTER

FORTY-SIX

Hazel

Hazel read the sign on the office suite door. “What are we doing here, Mom?”

“I’m worried about you.” Creases lined the older woman’s face.

“I told you, there’s nothing wrong with me. I’m not crazy.” Hazel exhaled loudly.

“Hazel…please, talk to the doctor. Humor me.”

“All right. If this will get you off my back.”

Genevieve led her inside the office. There was a small waiting room with four mauve chairs positioned along a wall and another wooden door across the cramped space. Her mother rang a buzzer on the wall under another sign that read:
‘At your appointment time, please push the button below.’

A woman’s voice came over an intercom system. “Are you here for an appointment?”

Why else would we be here?

“Yes, Genevieve and Hazel Stevens here to see Dr. Kaya Sato.”

“Her name is the only one on the door,” Hazel muttered. The door opened and an Asian woman about the age of her grandmother appeared. She smiled. The tiny woman’s perfume tickled her nose. The scent was White Diamonds or something equally as allergy-induced-asthma-worthy.

“Hi, I’m Dr. Sato, please come in.” She stepped aside to let them enter. “Have a seat.”

Hazel’s eyes traveled around the room. Two oversized burgundy leather chairs sat directly across from a desk. The doctor seemed to shrink from the enormous size of the desk. She clasped her hands and rested them on top. “What brings you here today?”

“As I explained on the phone,” Genevieve began, “my daughter has been…seeing things.”

“That’s not true.” Hazel glared at her mother then looked at the doctor. “I haven’t been seeing things.
Really
.”

“Yes you have. Don’t lie,” her mother scolded.

“I’m
not
.”

The doctor watched their exchange. Her lips formed a thin line. “Hazel, why don’t you tell me in your own words why you’ve come to see me.”

“First of all, I didn’t
come
to see you. I was dragged, no,
tricked
into coming here.” Hazel folded her arms across her chest.

“And second?” Dr. Sato asked.

“What?”

“Well, you said, first of all.”

Hazel glanced at the ceiling.
Seriously?
“I don’t need to be here.”

“Your mother is concerned about you.”

“She can be concerned all she wants. She never listens to me. I know what I saw. Hell, I’ve had full conversations with her.”

“With who?”

“You know who. I’m sure my
mother
filled you in on all the details.”

“I’d like to hear who, from you.”

“Why, so you can try to convince me that I sound nuts?”

“Do you think you’re, to use your word, ‘nuts?’”

“No.” Hazel rose from her chair and paced behind her mother. Floor to ceiling bookcases framed the door. Hundreds of hardbound and paperback books lined most of the shelves except for one. A glass angel figurine collection sat on that shelf. She focused her stare at one statue in particular. The wings were open but not fully stretched wide and the head tilted heavenward. “Do you believe in angels?” she asked the doctor.

“They’re a lovely thought.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“Hazel, don’t be rude,” her mother chided. Hazel ignored her, turned toward the desk to face the doctor, but found the petite woman had moved and stood next to her.

Dr. Sato regarded her with a kind expression. “I take it you do?”

Tears welled in Hazel’s eyes. She tried not to cry, she really did. Her head nodded. “I do,” she whispered.

“Sometimes we want to believe something so badly we think we are seeing what we want, but it isn’t there.”

Hazel sighed. “Uh uh. Amalya’s real.”

“She was a real person, yes, and she died in a horrific way, but—”

“You never answered my question. Do you believe in angels?” Hazel stayed where she was even though the woman had invaded her personal space. This discussion she wouldn’t back away from.

“Yes. I suppose I do.”

“Amalya’s an angel. Although, she isn’t like what you would think. Her feathers are black.”

“Feathers?”

Hazel splayed her palms out. “Her wings?”

Dr. Sato nodded. “Oh, of course. What does she say to you? Say she’s doing here?”

“That we shouldn’t see each other…that it’s not healthy. See, she’s not supposed to visit with people from her past.”

“Sounds like good advice. No way my sister would’ve said that,” Genevieve interjected.

“Not helping, Mom. Anyway, I told her, technically I’m not from her past, because we never met before she died. So it’s—”

“Amalya was troubled for as long as I can remember,” Genevieve cut in.

Hazel rolled her eyes. “Do you blame her? I see how Grandma treats you. I can just imagine what it was like growing up with her for a mother.”

Her mother’s jaw dropped. “You don’t know what you talking about, Grandma was a great mother.”

No. She wasn’t
, Hazel mouthed at the doctor and shook her head. “She’s cold and you know it. Picks at you constantly. I was relieved when she moved to Florida.”

Her mother had the nerve to act surprised. “How can you say that?”

“It’s true.”

The room fell silent. During the quiet, the doctor returned to her chair behind the desk. Genevieve refused to look at anyone. Instead, she played with her dark hair.

“What else has Amalya told you?” the doctor asked.

Hazel couldn’t tell if the doctor was actually interested or playing along with what she thought was a delusion. “That my mother would never believe that she’s an angel and that she’s as stubborn as a mule. In fact, Mule was her nickname for my mother.”

“Is this true? Is that the nickname your sister gave you?” the doctor asked.

“Yes. But that doesn’t prove anything.”

“You’re right and I didn’t say it did,” Dr. Sato replied. “Did you ever share this information with your daughter?”

“No,” Hazel said. “She’s hardly ever talked about her sister and when she did, she certainly didn’t tell me about that.”

Her mother kept her mouth shut.

The doctor leaned back in her chair. “Hmm. It seems the two of you have some issues to work out. I’m also interested in hearing more about your grandma and that relationship.”

Hazel sighed. “Look, I realize that you may or may not believe my aunt is an angel and honestly, I don’t care. Can I go now?”

“If that’s what you would like. But I’d like to speak to your mother privately before you go.”

“I’ll be out in the waiting room.” Hazel left the room but didn’t completely close the door; she wanted to hear what this woman had to say to her mother. She opened and let the outer shut to fool them into thinking she’d gone down to the car to wait or something.

“Mrs. Stevens, I believe your daughter is suffering from brief reactive psychosis. I would need to see her a few more times to diagnose her properly. This sort of thing can occur after a major stressful event or trauma. Have there been any recent deaths in the family or among her friends?”

I’m not psychotic.

Hazel covered her mouth with her hand. She wanted to scream.

“Not that I know of. I mean, none in our family.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, did your father pass away?”

“Not recently, if that’s what you’re getting at, Hazel was about eight or nine.”

“Is there a history of depression or mental illness in your family?”

“No.”

This is ridiculous…let’s go
. Hazel stepped away from the door and left the suite for real this time. She wandered down the hallway toward the bank of elevators. A mirror hung on the wall between the them. “You’re not crazy,” she said to her reflection. “What you saw was real.”

“Hazel, who are you talking to?”

She clutched the space over her heart. “Jeez, you scared me, Mom. Don’t sneak up on me like that.”

***

The atmosphere inside the car on the ride back to her apartment was laden with tension. After a while, Hazel broke the silence.

“I’m not psychotic.”

Her mother blew out a breath. “You
were
listening…thought so.”

“Well, you were talking about
me
. Don’t even think about taking me back there.”

“You have to look at it from my perspective. You sound crazy. My sister is dead. D-E-A-D.”

“I know, Mom. I never said she wasn’t. But I’m telling you, she’s an—”

“Angel. You said that. How
did
you know she called me Mule?”

Hazel sighed heavily. “How many times do I have to tell you? She told me.” Silence filled the car again. A tear rolled down her mother’s cheek. “Why are you crying? I hate it when you cry. I don’t know how to act.”

“It’s…is there something I did wrong? That caused this?”

“No,” Hazel said. “This isn’t about you. Can’t you, just for once, have a little faith? Not everything has to have a reasonable explanation.”

A sob escaped her mother’s throat. “You know I love you honey, and we can get through this. Together. Whatever this is. Or for however long it takes.”

Hazel laughed. She hadn’t meant to, but she couldn’t help it. “I love you too. But what will it take for me to prove to you Amalya’s not a hallucination, that she’s real?”

Her mother’s only response was to cry more. Hazel wondered what was behind her mother’s reluctance to believe her or least humor her without thinking she was crazy. Something was stopping her. Was there some dark secret from the past she’d like to keep buried? She had to find Amalya again. Good thing Hazel had learned the general area where her aunt lived.