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My brothers can take care of business back at the compound.
“Keep your eyes on the crowd. I’ll be in my office.” The club’s enforcer, a seasoned man with thick knuckles and a penchant for keeping a level head gives me a stiff nod. “You got it, Boss.”
I’m clocking out for the evening, kicking my feet up on my desk, and getting stupid drunk. I haven’t tested the limits of my liver in far too long. Tonight seems like a great night to revisit some dangerous levels.
I push off the railing and that’s when it happens.
Lucifer’s spawn walks into my club and I’m nearly on my knees.
“God, what have I done to piss you off tonight?”
That invisible crown on her red head is gone and in its place is a virtuous halo I know is a farce and wedding dress.
I take a swig of my twenty-two-thousand-dollar whiskey hoping the splash of red on that white silk is paint and not what it looks like.
The wrath of all the gods chases the she-devil inside my club. For the first time in my life, I want to fall to my knees and start praying. For mercy, for the end of my life. Just take me already. Hallucinations are the first sign of me losing my shit, right. It’s finally happened. Maybe one too many times chasing death and it wants to toy with me a little before stealing me away.
“Just end it now and put me out of my misery already.” I push the backs of my thumb and forefinger into my eyes but when I open them again she’s still there, the fury of hell surrounding her in its warm hug. Her beautiful eyes shoot shattered glass into my heart.
“Asena.” Her name is a ghost of a whisper off my lips. The stench of blood, her cries, and the contorted expression of grief on her face…every last memory I spent months suppressing claws its way to the surface, and with them the thirst for revenge dries my tongue, forcing me to swallow and cough. It took me months to force myself to bury the desire to see her family rotting in the ground. Only with the help of my new brothers did I leave behind the hunger to storm the Titan palace to kill its corrupt king.
“Wait for a better time,” Ares had advised before patching me into the brotherhood.
That was four years ago.
And now, I feel the Universe tapping me on my shoulder and whispering,death is ready for your body count now.
Rage’s brother looks up at me from the first level and I signal the new patch for them to let her through.
Gloriously beautiful. I can’t believe what I’m seeing. Even when she’s mad, with all that red hair surrounding her face, she appears celestial. A fallen angel.
The sting of her flat palm across my cheek brings me out of my reverie.
Flames of fury lick over porcelain skin.
“JohnfuckingHark. If I had a gun, I would put you in the grave where you belong, you deceitful bastard. Imagine my surprise when my one-time dead lover walks onto the evening news. Undead.” Her voice rises with furor. She looks ready to take aim, this time with the balled fist.
“Asena.” I tilt my head to the side in greeting. I see the tremble in her hands. The deep green shooting through her otherwise blue eyes crackle with energy. The itch to see her other hand lash out. I relish the idea and hope she has it in her to try. The first time was an amazing jolt of sensation. More than I have felt since the night her daddy tried to kill me.
Her lips are shaking and pale, bloodless. Something has her pissed off and scared. I take responsibility for the first, but not the second.
Her breaths turn ragged. “How the hell are you still alive, Hark?” Her throat works down a stifled cry of anguish. I don’t need to hear how she feels at the sight of me. It’s all over her pained face. Those pretty eyes are bloodshot and her voice can barely be heard over the music it’s so weighed down by grief. And then there’s the dress. And I know for a fact she didn’t put the blood there by herself no matter how badass and tough she wants to come off.
I move us to a more secluded area. The shadows dim the back part of the club and I don’t stop until we are both bathed in darkness.
I spin her around and pin her to the wall. I lean my weight into her, the bar of one arm across her chest. Grabbing her hands with my other, I anchor them over her head and I level my face with hers.
“Whose blood is that, Asena?” I don’t see the point in playing catch-up. I need to know if badges are about to storm my castle.
A light dusting of freckles peeks out from layers of bridal makeup that has smeared in places. Black liner trails in long slashes under her eyes as though she’s been crying.
For me?
Her lips clamp closed, eyes narrow and if I were anything close to weak, I’d almost feel the daggers she’s shooting at me.
“So much hate, Princess,” I tsk. “What did I ever do to you but pop your cherry? Tell me whatever you think it is I need to hear, and then leave.” I need her out of here and to forget she ever found me. All the work I did to bury the rage of her father putting a bullet in my chest threatens to take over the longer I inhale her sweet scent.
If I let that happen, the body count will be staggering.
