Chapter Twenty-Four #2
Again, he spun us, his grin so wide it looked like it might split his face so he could swallow me whole.
That was when I realized exactly what he was doing.
General Altair was slowly taking us out of the crowd, bringing us towards a single black door.
Now panicked, I looked around, catching Azazel’s furious face in the distance, his shoulders shoving into people as he made his way to us.
Then I was being pushed into a dark room, my back crashing into a wall.
The door slammed behind us, a large hand grabbing my arm and forcing me deeper into whatever stars-forsaken place this was.
I wanted to argue. To fight. To do anything, but what?
He’d realize who I was, and then I’d sentence both Altair and I to torture.
So I let him drag me, my heart racing and tears prickling my eyes.
“Don’t worry, this will be a quick one, Jen.
I just can’t help myself,” His liquor-soaked breath fanned across my face as he pressed me against another wall, his chuckle vibrating against my chest. “If this works, I’m going to marry you, okay?
You don’t have to worry. We’ll kill Elise and Adam, then I’ll fuck you until we have a hundred more heirs running around. ”
A gag crept up my throat, bile rising in my stomach.
Abruptly, his weight was gone, the sound of bone cracking so loud it made me cringe. Again and again, pounding could be heard, but there was no light. No way to see anything. Silently, I scooted down the wall, hearing as the snapping turned into fleshy thuds.
“Who’s there?” I asked. Had the general beaten whoever hit him? Or was the perpetrator winning? Would they rape me instead?
“It’s me.”
“Oh, thank the stars,” I cried out, standing and searching for Azazel with my arms.
“I wouldn’t touch my hands. Let’s go before the fucker wakes up. Take my arm instead.”
Not needing to be told twice, I reached out and grabbed his arm, letting him guide me through the maze of darkness.
“How did you know where he was taking me?”
“This is always where he goes during parties. He fucks and drinks his way through the entire thing while my mother hosts. Honestly, I didn’t even consider the possibility that he’d pick you.
I’m so, so sorry. Did he hurt you?” We were at the door far faster than I thought we’d be, light shining into the space.
Now undistracted, I took a second to look at the area, realizing it was some sort of hallway.
“What is this place?” I asked, letting him pull me out of the room and back into the ball. We didn’t stop to dance, keeping to the walls as we rounded the space.
“It’s an old servant’s room. He uses it for sex. Now answer my fucking question. Did. He. Hurt. You.” Less of a question and more of a demand, really.
Before I could answer, we arrived at another door, Azazel gently guiding me inside. He lit the space with tech, locking the door behind us. Ah, a bathroom. Like the rest of the house, it was dark and oversized, adorned with so much silver it looked like it glowed.
“I’m fine. He didn’t get the chance to do anything,” I mumbled, feeling oddly bare.
“Were you not going to even try to fight back?” he asked, his eyes wide and wild.
“If I would’ve tried, our cover would be blown and the mission would’ve been ruined!”
“Fuck this mission! You can’t keep putting everything and everyone else above yourself!”
“I don’t do that. And, like I said, I’m fine.”
For his part, Azazel only growled, turning towards the basin and summoning water for his bloody hands. Remarkably, the rest of his clothes were still immaculate.
“How’d you stay so clean?” I asked as he wiped away the thick, red blood.
“Warded the second I swung. I was lucky he was horny and drunk, or he probably would’ve killed me.” He muttered something unintelligible under his breath, scrubbing harder.
“I think you should know something.” He glanced at me over his shoulder, brown eyes furious and mouth pushed into a thin line. Sighing, I said, “Your father propositioned me. Well, Jenna. He said he’d marry me—her—if it worked. He talked about fucking her until she produces—”
“Heirs. Yeah, I figured he’d eventually do that.” Grabbing one of the black towels from the metal hook, he dried his hands. I watched as he tossed the rag and gripped the edges of the basin, dropping his head.
“Do you want to talk about it? It must be a lot to wrestle with the fact that you might no longer be the one who inherits all of this.” Reaching out, I gently touched his back, hoping to soothe him. Instead, I ignited his rage.
He spun, letting out a sharp, humorless laugh.
“You think that’s what I care about? Not being the Altair heir?
I couldn’t care less! He tried to fucking rape you!
He put his hands on you! If I could, I’d rip out his intestines and wring his fucking neck with them!
But if I kill him now, every fucking ward in this place will shatter, and we’ll be caught in seconds! ”
Closing the remaining few inches, he grabbed my face, his grasp gentle despite the fury that left his body shaking.
“No one can touch you. I need you to know that. I won’t ever let anyone hurt you. Not if I’m there to stop it.” His forehead pressed into mine, his eyes closing.
I wanted to argue, to tell him it wasn’t his job to keep me safe.
But I couldn’t. Because fuck, I wanted him to.
I couldn’t explain why, but I could no longer deny that I was happy to have Altair stepping in front of me and holding me.
I was grateful for the peace he somehow brought.
After a lifetime of taking care of others, I thought then that I was finally ready to let someone take care of me.
Wrapping my arms around his neck, I pulled him in, hugging him tightly. He immediately held me back, tucking his head into my shoulder. We stood like that for a few moments—hours—days—years—I wasn’t sure. Because it sure felt like forever.