Chapter 4
4
Ramone
Present Day
It used to irritate me when people didn’t believe I was real, but now, it was my greatest trick. Banishment was hard on me; however, I’d found my way around the inconveniences associated with such a consequence. I was flourishing under the veil of secrecy being trapped here afforded me. I could do whatever I wanted.
Fulgere Industries was more profitable than ever, even with the burgeoning competition. People still didn’t know what I was, of course, but they were slowly learning who I was, as we’d gained minor international recognition. It brought more business.
So far, I’d refused all requested interviews. That had the interesting effect of making the public more intrigued along with the zero-photography policy I’d instituted. No one outside my inner circle knew what I looked like. Anyone without prior approval attempting to infiltrate my fortress swiftly met “natural causes.” My life and business were an iron fortress buttressed by heavy security, steel will, and more than a touch of magic.
While I sat in my office staring at the luscious vase of silky gardenias, I wondered if I should switch to crimson roses. I’d let Samantha go a while ago, despite keeping tabs on her. I still thought about her, but as I’d felt the separation between myself and Kiara widen, I couldn’t get the woman off my mind and went as far as to visit Savannah, Georgia multiple times. I’d wanted to learn more about her, unable to figure out the draw I’d felt. I discovered she had a tragic past, the loss of someone she loved, much as I had. Was that something that contributed to the connection I felt with her? I wasn’t certain. The result was I’d managed to add even more trauma to Samantha’s world and bring debilitating trauma to Kiara’s.
In the end, I behaved uncharacteristically when I’d sacrificed myself for Kiara. If I’d persisted on my path, I’d have killed her whether I’d intended to or not. She loved me, but she loved Ilya more. That alone was destroying her. Her destruction was beautiful and oh so very sweet, but over time, I couldn’t ignore what I was doing to her. Neither could Ilya.
Kiara was gone and neither of us could get to her if we wanted to. From a human perspective, she was dead. We knew where she was, but we couldn’t reach her.
I’d also failed my wife. Other than not providing Samara with the safety she’d deserved; Kiara was the second biggest failure of my life. I did not want to add Samantha to my list.
The punishment of being banished from all other realms and being trapped where I was, while harsh—was justified. Even I could see the necessity. I couldn’t go to the Fourth Realm where my estates stood or home to the Second Realm, where I owned a penthouse.
The Second Realm also housed some aspects of my business, but I had others taking care of those things in my absence. Victor, Lucian and my father, Julian, had decided, under consequence of execution, I was permanently banished, and some others supported that decision.
Crushing an ivory blossom in my hand, I pushed my chair back from my desk. My phone rang and I grabbed it in annoyance just when my office door swung open.
Ilya nodded at me as he strolled across the thick carpeting, heading straight for the whiskey. I flung the wilted gardenia flower in the trash can.
“What?” I barked at him, before pinching my nose. He was interrupting my brooding.
Ilya didn’t acknowledge my greeting.
“Can I help you?” I bit out. I tossed my phone back onto my desk without checking to see who’d called.
“No,” he answered, laughing. “It's too late for that.”
Ignoring his sarcasm, I tried again. “Why are you in my office?”
Ilya poured a drink and made himself comfortable in one of the cushioned chairs facing my desk. “Have you spoken to Alastair?” I shook my head at his question, on guard now because I could sense something was wrong. He and Alastair weren’t all that fond of each other.
He straightened his cufflinks, and I could see he was deep in thought, the mannerisms and micro expressions I knew all too well after hundreds of years as clear as day, rippling across his features. He was lit up like a gaudy neon sign.
I moved closer to my desk and rested my elbows. “I haven’t spoken to him in a while, I’ve been busy.”
“His woman found and translated the diary. She’s a bit more than any of us expected. She’s clearly not a source, but she is gifted.”
I regarded him for a moment. “You’re not going to take her, are you?” Ilya was talking about a diary that Kiara’s mother had kept, full of secrets, spells, and a version of a treaty between the different realms. It had been lost, but Alastair’s wife, Devane, had a gift for locating lost books.
Ilya choked on his drink, an incredulous look crossing his face. “Fuck no. Why are you asking?”
Shrugging, I said, “It hasn’t stopped you in the past.” We’d fought for a long time over Kiara, both of us vying for her. I wouldn’t put much past the man who’d entered my office.
He bit his lip and glanced at his lap before meeting my eyes. “This. This is why I’m here. Have you noticed anything unusual lately?”
“What do you mean?”
“Your moods, Ramone. My moods. We’re fucked. That damn wine was cursed,” Ilya spit out. “I’ve run diagnostic testing.” While Ilya specialized in software writing, he also fancied himself an investigator.
My jaw tightened and then twitched as anger prickled over me while I stared at the demon sitting in front of me.
“What are you saying?” I asked when I was able to speak. What he was suggesting was that we were under the control of another entity. Nothing and no one would tell me what to do—I was already under enough restrictions and wouldn’t allow for any other restraints.
A snapping sound echoed across the room. Ilya’s crystal tumbler displayed a deep crack tracing from the base to the lip. Blood from the palm of his hand trickled between his fingers, mingling with the leaking alcohol. He sat there, allowing the mixture to drip against his thigh. I noted the lack of panic for the immaculate charcoal gray suit he was wearing. It often seemed nothing scared the man more than to mar his appearance, and here he was, ruining his clothes.
“While we were busy fighting and chasing after a dream, someone was working against us.” His eyes glowed red when he noticed the broken cup. “Guilt. We’ll be no better than the lesser demons if this continues,” he snarled. “Humans are supposed to be merely toys.”
My head buzzed. Blankly, I watched the man stand up and deposit the cracked glass on a tray. He then took a handful of tissues, attempting to clean himself up.
“Matthew knows everything, as much as I do.” Ilya’s mention of the archangel irritated me. It was his own damn fault the divine creature knew anything to begin with. “The curse appears to work in accord with the small matter of a magic source having to choose their mate rather than the other party choosing the source.”
“Kiara switched back and forth between the two of us,” I remarked. “Matthew has yet to darken the doors of my office.”
Ilya scoffed. “I doubt he will.” He then smirked. “She chose me in the end.”
“She’d still be here if she truly had,” I shot back.
He waved his hand at me, dismissing my words. Ilya was the one who’d made a deal with Matthew to manipulate time and send Kiara back to before she’d cursed herself to forget all of us, planting himself front and center for her to choose. The result was Kiara remembering again, and the angel gaining east coast territory. It was never a good idea to manipulate history.
There was also the small matter of my little darling slicing her boyfriend’s face from brow to chin, marring the model-like features he wielded like a weapon, after setting his bedroom on fire. She’d left after that, willing her own heart to stop and moving to another plane far out of reach of beings such as us. It filled me with a perverse pleasure, seeing her handiwork on his flesh.
“I don’t know what to do about that,” he said, deep in thought.
As if he had any power over it. “Move on. I have.”
Well, mostly I’d moved on. My gaze wandered to the bouquet at the corner of my desk. Sweeping my arm across the surface, the vase fell into the waste basket with a loud thud. “If you figure anything out, let me know.”
Ilya huffed. “If your bloodsucker best friend gives you the diary or anything else, let me know. I’m certain the disgusting creature will be contacting you with his findings.”
My gaze snapped to his. It was odd Alastair hadn’t mentioned these developments to me, but vampires had their own way of life that operated on the outskirts of my own. He was my friend, but he rarely showed up at our parties.
The demon stood up again, rubbing his pant leg. “Glad I have an excellent laundry service.” He tossed me a withering glance. “Someone should’ve destroyed that damn diary.”
“Why didn’t he?” I asked. I was thankful he hadn’t; I wanted to see it for myself.
Placing a hand on the doorknob, he glanced at me. “His wife objected. We would’ve never have known had Alastair had his way.”
The door shut and I was alone with my thoughts. Was it guilt that caused me to let Kiara go? I’d had deep, strong feelings for her. I was unable to love her the way she deserved and desired, although I’d tried. The love I’d had for my wife Samara had seemed all-consuming, and I would’ve slaughtered babies to keep her safe, had I been present. It was just what couples did for each other in the Second Realm. What I’d felt for Kiara was not that type of love. It was likely I wouldn’t have lied to her as much as I did, if it had been. Neither relationship matched what I felt for Samantha. No, this feeling was entirely new.
Ilya, on the other hand, just may have loved the little flame-girl. I hadn’t spoken to him about it much. I’d uncharacteristically agreed I would take my leave and I then allowed him to exact vengeance, sending me into a sort of purgatory state, a soul coma. She’d been promised to him before birth, he’d reminded me. I’d seemed to have forgotten that minor detail in my pursuit and if he’d attempted to remind me, I wouldn’t have listened anyway. Plus, I’d been following my father’s orders.
Events over the past thirty years, since Kiara’s birth, had changed everything and there was nothing I could do about it.
Staring out my office window, I watched cars sitting at traffic lights, the dots of red and green flickering on and off in the darkness. They were merely ants, and I held the magnifying glass. There was no reason they should dictate my actions or the direction my life took. Humans were our playthings, as Ilya had said.
I swiped my suit jacket from the hanger in the closet and closed my office. My executive assistant, Violet, stood up as I pounded down the hallway, pushing away from the front desk. I flicked my wrist, forcing her back down in her seat without touching her. “Stay,” I ordered her. She was the most annoying type of witch—tricky, untrustworthy, and she knew too much. I kept her close where I could watch her easily.
My driver opened the car door, and I slid inside, tapping out a text to my dear friend, Alastair. He should’ve let me know; he should have been the one to deliver the news instead of Ilya. What did he think he would have to gain by withholding such pivotal information? Ilya had a point, if the diary had been destroyed, we would’ve been at even more of a disadvantage.