The Fallen (A Sons of Wrath Prequel) (16 page)

Need to get out! Have to get loose!

She screamed again and, against the thick numbness settling into her fingers, frantically twisted her wrists in the cuffs.

Let me go! Let me go!
Her mind bellowed. In a fit of futility, she finally broke into sobbing.

Light bled into the darkness and his massive shadowed form stood in the doorway.

She stilled, heart hammering against her ribs, breaths heaving, tears streaming down her cheeks. She couldn’t even wipe them away. Couldn’t hide the fact that he’d penetrated her defenses. Lifting her gaze toward the ceiling hardly managed to hold back the torrent of sobs itching to escape.

Her body felt light as he lifted her into his arms, relieving the pressure in her fingertips. His fingers ran across her nape, before he gripped her hair and tipped her head back to unhook her collar.

When light kisses fell against her throat, another tear escaped.

“I had to.” A sharp breath hit her ear. “But I promise never to leave you in the dark again,” he whispered, cutting her wrists free from the binds.

The gag fell away from her mouth, and he unfastened the spreader bar from her ankles.

Cold and trembling, Karinna wrapped her arms around him and buried her head in his neck, clinging to him. Didn’t want to let him go. Safe. Her breaths slowed and she closed her eyes.

In one inexplicable swoop, he’d become her savior.

The warmth of his skin and the pounding of his heart in her ear soothed as he carried her in his arms across the room. “Tonight, you’ll sleep in my bed. With me.”

CHAPTER 15

Arms stretched across the seat’s back, Xander sat in the rear of the Bentley limo, opposite Ian, and watched the small, embedded television. Melissa Knox spoke with special investigations reporter Ruthie James onscreen, about her husband and the cover up conspiracy that seemed to be surrounding
Hard Limits
.

With a sniff, Ian flipped the TV off and slid back in his seat. His lips puckered and tightened a few times as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Kill the bitch.”

Xander scratched his chin. “Think that’s a good idea? Could rouse suspicion.”

“What could rouse suspicion is if this cunt manages to get the FBI and the C-I-
cock-sucking
-A involved. I’d rather shut her up before it comes to that. I got enough shit on my plate.” He shook his head. “I’m having déjà vu all over again. These fucking people who just”—his lip peeled back—“dig and dig. Can’t fucking leave it alone.” His hand rubbed down his face. “No. Take her out. I’ll think of something. Make it look like she took off with her fuckin’ internet lover, if I have to.”

“You got the auction coming up?”

“I’ve crammed more money than I can count up the city’s ass, and still they want more. More. More.” Ian glanced toward the window, where the rain and empty park of Campus Martius made for an otherwise serene backdrop. “I paid for this shit. All these developments. All these businesses coming into this fucked city. Paid with
my
money. I should be a goddamn hero. Where’s my fuckin’ monument, huh?” He shook his head. “With Knox out of the way, everything will go back to business as usual.”

“Alright. I’ll do it.”

“Xander, I’ve been in this business for decades. One fucking fire after another. I can’t tell you how refreshing it is to have a loyal friend. You never fail me.”

I look forward to shipping your ass straight to hell.

“Just before you kill her, I want you to tell her you plan to fuck her daughter.” Ian chuckled. “Tell her you’ll take her whole fucking sorority up at State and have them trained as slaves by the end of the week.”

Xander nodded. “I’ll take care of her.”

***

Against the surrounding blackness, white volto masks crowded over Karinna, staring down at her. Faceless. Emotionless. All at once, hands reached out, tearing away her clothes, gripping her limbs, bruising, beating, and still they showed no emotion.

She opened her mouth to a silent scream. No one would hear her. No one would come to her aid.

A spray of red coated the mask in front of her. Tiny bright red drops against the porcelain white. The mask fell away to a black gap in the circle. Another mask jerked to the side before falling away, widening the black gap. Each fell like bowling pins being knocked and bloodied. The last dropped away, and from the surrounding darkness, Xander emerged, blood and sweat coating his bare chest.

Karinna’s heart kicked up at the sight of him. His strong arms slid beneath her body, lifted her, held her to his chest, and carried her through the blackness.

Karinna sucked in a sharp breath, and her eyelids shot open to morning rain pelting against the window across from her. She sat up in bed, looking around Xander’s room, but found it empty beyond herself.

Always gone when she woke. Like a dream.

That woodsy scent drifted to her nose, and she fell back onto the pillow, burying her head and sucking in the deliciousness. For a moment, she imagined that smell belonged to her, the rich masculine aroma that watered her mouth. She clutched the pillow and breathed him in, remembering that same smell clinging to his skin as he’d carried her to his bed.

Don’t.
She lifted her head from the pillow.
He’s not yours. This isn’t some fucking fairytale. Stay focused.

You want him to be yours.
Lolita’s voice battled her own.
Stay with him. Make him yours.

No.

Frowning, Karinna threw back the blankets and slipped over the side of the bed, nabbing a shirt draped across the footboard.

On the bedside nightstand, fruit, vegetables, cheese and bread sat in a large spread. A carafe that smelled faintly of coffee sat beside a pitcher of ice water. The amount of food suggested he probably wouldn’t be back most of the day. Not even a week with the guy and she’d already begun picking up some patterns.

She crossed the room to the stack of books piled by the window. At the top of the stack sat the bible. Karinna opened it to a dog-eared page, upon which a passage from Matthew 13:38 had been highlighted:

He who sows the good seed is the Son of Man, the field is the world; and the good seed, these are the children of the Kingdom; and the darnel weeds are the children of the evil one. The enemy who sowed them is the devil. The harvest is the end of the age, and the reapers are angels. As therefore the darnel weeds are gathered up and burned with fire; so will it be at the end of this age. The Son of Man will send out his angels, and they will gather out of his Kingdom all things that cause stumbling, and those who do iniquity, and will cast them into the furnace of fire.

The bible fell from her hands, and she dropped to her knees, clutching her skull. Words danced inside her mind, like stars floating in her eyes, as Lolita’s voice chimed the passage relentlessly—the same passage her mother whispered in her ear at night. The same one Lolita whispered when she’d awaken from a nightmare. Darkness crept inside her head, blanketing her thoughts into a black void, while, as if in unison, Lolita’s voice echoed her mother’s.

Rocking on her knees, Karinna slapped her hands against her ears until, at last, the voices made way for silence.

***

The Knox mansion stood lit and stately, exactly as Xander had imagined. He’d watched her through the window most of the evening, doing whatever shit women did before going to bed, before the light in Melissa Knox’s room finally flipped to blackness.

Xander flew up to the window, lifted the pane, and climbed inside the dark room. His feet didn’t make a sound as he made his way across the plush carpet, to where she lay in bed with a black eye mask blindfolding her.

Mortals are expendable.

He tugged his dagger from his hip holster. She’d die anyway. Death by his hands would, at least, be quick.

The woman slapped her hand to her eyes and sobbed into her palm—an act that kicked Xander back a step, damn near made him drop the dagger. She sniveled and coughed.

His stomach tightened, as she turned to her side, facing him.

“It’s like you’re still here sometimes,” she whispered. “I can feel you.” A sniffle broke her words. “I’m so alone. With Jenny off to school, this house feels twice as big.” A moment of silence paused her words. “Things were never perfect between us. But more than anything, I wish I knew where you were.”

“Dead.” As soon as the words left Xander’s mouth, he lurched forward, clamping his hand across her mouth, as Melissa sucked in a snotty gasp and, lifting her mask, screamed into his palm.

Her trembling body wracked his hand. Wide brown eyes nearly popped out of her sockets. Within seconds, her fit of panic ended, and she lay, shaking uncontrollably.

Xander leaned forward. “Every day, we make choices that change our lives. If you scream again, I’ll slit your throat. Understand?”

Her brows creased but she nodded.

“Tonight, you will forget you saw me. You will forget about your husband. You’ll call off the search for him and you’ll never show your face on television again. You will leave this city by tomorrow afternoon and never come back. If you fail to follow these instructions, Jenny will disappear and you’ll never see her again. There isn’t a government agency in creation that will know where to track her. Is that clear?”

Her eyes filled with tears and her lip quivered against his palm. She nodded again.

“Do not fuck with me, or I will gut you where you lie.” His lip tightened. A year ago he’d have killed her without remorse. That’s how the game was played. Build loyalty. Follow through. With the auction so close, Ian had better things to do than chase after Xander’s kills. Two dozen Fallen brothers in one place on the same night meant a shit ton of housework for Ian—girls had to be prepped, cops had to be paid off, drugs and weapons deals had to be arranged. Still, though, if he happened to catch wind of Xander’s failure to carry out an order, Xander could pretty much guarantee his place on Ian’s top ten shitlist. “Your husband was a very bad man. Mothers, just like you, are crying themselves to sleep tonight, wondering what happened to their daughters—young girls your husband slaughtered for his own amusement.”

She shook her head, sobbing against his hand.

Xander hardened his grip. “Yes,” he said through clenched teeth. “Do not honor him with your sympathy. Sins must be paid. The angels reap what is owed.”

Her eyelids fluttered shut and tears spilled down her cheeks.

“Tomorrow. Leave. Or both you and your daughter will die.” He removed his hand from her mouth.

“Who …”—she sucked in a breath—“are … you?”

He backed away beneath her solid stare. “The Reaper.”

Xander slipped out into the night.

***

Karinna lay on her side, curled in the heavy blankets of Xander’s bed. Gossamer beams of moon’s light drifted between the opened drapes. The bible passage had stuck with her most of the afternoon.

The cotton pillow captured Karinna’s tear as she lay in her bed, across from her sister’s, watching Lita’s emotionless reaction to their father slamming into her body, as he’d done every night that week. Anger swirled in her gut at the thought of Lita allowing him to break her as he had. Unlike the first night, years ago, when she’d put up such a fight, their mother came bounding through the door, attacking him like a mother bear should. Only took one severe beating for the wretched woman to turn her cheek, to argue with Lita the next morning and pretend the most horrific robbing of innocence hadn’t taken place the night before.

Now Lita took him without so much as a whimper.

His fat belly jiggled each time it railed against her body, sending billows of nausea up into Karinna’s throat.
Kill him
. Her fists curled into a ball.
Gut that belly open and watch the hog bleed
. He’d chosen Lita for one reason—no one would ever believe her. The God-fearing man never sinned.

She buried her face into the pillow as he reached his climax and pulled out of Lita, collapsing his large, sweaty body against her back. He never looked her in the face during the act.

Fucking coward.

“Now you’re daddy’s good girl again. Your sins are forgiven.”

Sins.

She’d snuck out of the house earlier in the night to get high with Mike Trombley—an act that actually pissed Karinna off, until their father caught Lita sneaking back in through the window and promised punishment.

He left the room and the silence prevailed. Sweet, blissful silence … broken by Lita’s sobs.

“Lita,” Karinna kept her voice low. “Are you okay?”

No answer.

Karinna pushed herself to a sitting position, cringing at the sight of her sister curled into a ball, trembling as she wept. “I’m making you a promise, Lita. The next time he comes for you, I’m going to kill him.”

Her sister rolled her head to the side and peered at Karinna. “How?”

“Painfully.”

The click of the door startled both girls, and Karinna fell back onto the bed, covering herself with the blanket. As always, their mother crept into the room and knelt beside Lita. She stroked her head and spoke the words of the bible.

Parable of the weeds.

The words angered Karinna. She didn’t want to wait for the reapers. Their father, like a weed, strangled the life out of Lita. Her zest had begun to wane in recent weeks. Her mood, like a storm cloud, looming without the rain.

He needed to die.

Karinnna rolled over and faced the door that Xander had, once again, locked. Pangs of hunger churned in her stomach, and she clutched her growling belly, trying to ignore the waves of nausea.

When light bled into the slowly darkening room, she shot up.

Xander stood in the doorway. “Come with me.”

The strangeness left her frozen in place.
Come with you?

His dark silhouette reached out a hand, and Karinna climbed from the bed and took cautious steps toward him. He closed his fingers around her wrist when she slid her hand into his and led her down the stairs.

Gaze wandering, she took in the paintings and sculptures she’d had only seconds to marvel when she first arrived. Shadows flickered on the wall as they descended, the source only becoming clear when they reached the bottom of the stairs.

The soft glow of candlelight filled the dining room as he led her to a long table. Thick carved wood had Karinna guessing the furniture must’ve been about as old as the house itself. She dragged a finger down the smooth varnished surface until they came to a stop at the opposite end, where two filled plates had been set.

Xander stood behind one of the placements, and she frowned at his usher for her to sit but complied. Once he’d scooted her closer to the meal, he took his own seat at the head of the table beside her.

A million different explanations swam through her head. The coffee, bagels and fruit … sure. Anyone could figure out her favorite breakfast after two days.
This, though?
No way. He’d have to have watched her for a long time to know her favorite Vegan Soul dish—a special treat she only indulged every few months or so, a special request that only the ladies who owned the restaurant had any knowledge of.

Gravity gave way to a floating sensation, only disappearing when she glanced over and caught the weight of his stare.

“Not hungry?”

Karinna bowed her head. “I find it a little disconcerting that you know so much about me. And I know so little about you.”

“Something you want to ask me?”

She shook her head. Much as she was curious to know why, out of all the pages of the bible, that particular one had been creased, or why he knew where she lived, her real name, her favorite coffee shop and her favorite special request indulgence, she didn’t ask.

He took a bite of the catfish tofu, and his brow furrowed, as if he couldn’t decide whether or not he liked it.

Karinna stifled a laugh. “Sometimes, food isn’t about taste. It’s about experiences.” She smiled at his raised brow. “My … sister had always been big on cleansing her body. So she’d get on these health food kicks sometimes. We met up at this restaurant a few times a week for a while. I didn’t care for the food. But being with her. Laughing. Felt like I was cleansing my soul.”