11. Where does this rollercoaster end? #2
I roll on my back, captivated at how the moon’s glow dances against each intricate design on the ceiling.
Textures speak a story of Gods fighting, falling in love, death, and birth.
My stare moves sharply over each one, unable to grasp their meaning.
These are beautiful. Is each room like this?
I think of Angie’s room, Alise’s, Alex’s, Ethan’s…
You’ll never know because you didn’t pass the awakening.
My mood shifts. What occurred earlier was disappointing, and despair stirs inside my stomach of not being able to find Rosie’s killer.
Failure seems motivated to define who I am, and each loss makes it much more accurate.
Annoyance rears her ugly head. Each pressing thought ends with more unanswered questions.
Worst of all, everyone in attendance witnessed the flames disappearing.
Thankfully cameras weren’t present. Unless someone secretly recorded it. “Fuck.” Something else to add to my list of embarrassments.
A bright light appears in my peripheral, humming in a soothing tune .
“Did you forget something, Angie, or do you miss me enough to turn down your dick appointment?” I chuckle, knowing her sigil magic.
“Her what?” My head snaps towards Ethan’s voice, capturing his spiteful scowl. Apparently, I don’t know shit.
“What are you doing here, and what do you want?” Quickly standing, I face him, but this dress leaves little movement in case fighting is required.
“Where is she?”
“You can’t barge into my room, demanding answers. Use the door like everyone else.” I must be crazy, enticing a killer who has little regard if I live or die. He squints, pulling a metaphorical hood over his head the way his features darken. The same leer he gave Holland appears.
“I won’t ask again. Where is she, Kyra?” he demands. My name rolling off his tongue not only sends fear into my legs, but chills down my spine as he stalks menacingly toward me. Prickles numb my feet, and I am unable to move.
“If you’re here to kill me, do it, but if not, and you’re willing to converse like civilized adults, use the door.
” I point towards my dorm room’s entrance, mustering my last bit of courage.
This bluff I’m calling is nothing more than that, a bluff, so if my guardian angel’s watching, please let him choose option B.
We engage into an unspoken hold for what seems like minutes. His leer penetrates mine in such a dark and entrancing way, speaking that he is not fond of being told what to do. The red tones of his eyes blaze around the tint of his golden hues, and my heart comes to a sudden stop.
Flames of hell swallow the heavenly halo, causing my chest to ache like he is intentionally squeezing my heart. A force wrapping around it and cutting the blood flow to my body. But if I fold now, he wins, and I’m not budging on this .
His mouth opens, and I cut him off. “Ethan, door.” Blood pulls from my face as his features transform into what can only be described as deadly. The right side of his mouth lifts sinisterly, his vision glazed with intent, and I find myself being the one breaking.
“If you’re expecting an obedient pet, you have no idea to whom you’re speaking with.” His hand flicks, and in an instant, I’m pulled towards him. My feet dangle above the ground, my pulse pounds against my ear, and our lips are only inches apart.
Trepidation peers back through his merciless gaze now that I’m eye level to him.
Sure, a few seconds ago, I was brave. Hell, some would even say daring, but in this moment, my heart falls into the pit of my stomach, fleeing for its survival.
“Kill you, you say?” he continues, stoking the flames engulfing my reflection. “That does sound like an appealing offer. How about we start slow? I can sever a hand…an arm…then a foot–”
“You’re sadistic.” I shy away from the visions he is manipulating.
“So I’ve been told, but you may have a chance of living past tonight.
Tell me where she is,” he growls, throat vibrating with a rumble.
It passes through my chest and into my stomach, trembling every organ, causing me to shutter.
His breath blows over my lips as I try to speak.
A taste of conviction and promises layered over a citric and cinnamon flavor.
Inadvertently, my tongue swipes along the inside of my mouth, tasting his sought-after promises and threats he plans on inflicting.
Stiffening, he trails the motion, pausing briefly before advancing towards my chest as though he hears its harmony.
I’m unable to breath against the frigid stare, surrounded by a hellish blaze.
The next words spoken either define me as bold or completely insane…and I’m banking on insanity.
“If you want an answer, you’ll need to knock at my door.”
He returns his vindictive stare, peering into the depths of my soul, and an unbelievable amount of energy spreads around us, tossing my blankets and knocking over the stand beside the bed.
He is pissed. The force keeping me suspended burns a trail across my neck, leaving a line of chilled bumps like a blade of dry ice pressed against it.
I shiver at his implication of slitting my throat.
Pressure builds around my vision, knowing he holds my life in the palms of his damning hands, and the force holding me squeezes tighter. No, if he plans on killing you, don’t you dare shy away. My thoughts stand firm even when my body wants to implode.
I find him glowering and prepare for the worst, but he scoffs, releasing me with agitation and walks off. I stumble, afraid to move more than that, and panic coats my palms in sweat as his steps reduce in the distance. My front door slams shut, and seconds pass before he knocks.
“Holy shit, that actually worked,” I whisper to myself. The door sounds again, this time more aggressively than the first. “Who is it?” I yell while advancing into my living area and withhold a laugh. I’ve already faced death and lived, so my adrenaline is shot through the roof.
“Open. The. Door.” Chills and heat race down my arms as vibrations pass through them.
I open it, still riding high on my accomplishment and not dying in the process.
“I despise waiting, and this will never happen again. Understood?” he says, leaning forward and invading my space.
I nod, pissed that my body betrayed me into submitting.
“Good, now let me in.” Another demand that of course I can’t reject.
We’re supposed to be working together, body. How about we stop doing what he says.
Ethan closes the door behind him, and that same sound emits a couple doors down the hallway. He shifts his gaze then takes an exasperated breath. “Where’s Angel?”
“Who?”
“You’ve escaped my wrath once tonight. I suggest not pressing your luck.
” His muscular frame towers over mine, swallowing my figure within the loom of his shadow, drowning me in the abyss of his dominating presence.
A vow etches into his expression as he takes me in fully, surveying my features and taking mental notes.
“Who’s Angel? Do you mean Angie?” I question, wishing like hell he’d step back. The heat of his body is wafting over mine, and the last thing I need is for me to enjoy it. Which I am. No, I’m not.
“Angie is short for Angel. Or did you seriously not know this?”
“Ohhh. Makes sense.” Shrugging off his implication of my intelligence, I continue, “Well, I don’t know where she went.”
He leans closer, matching my height, and his cinnamon and citrus scent takes refuge within my lungs. That vow mentioned earlier becomes clear as his eyes ache to punish me for wasting his time.
Twitching hands beg to wrap around my throat, based on how he peers at my neck, and a tsunami of heat spills over my thighs, tingling with a sensational urge from how close his hands are to them, not touching me, which I’m not accustomed to.
“I’m leaving to find her. When I return, I won’t be using the door,” he says, taking a step back and cutting me off cold turkey from the very essence of him.
“Okay,” I respond, speaking through half parted lips.
Something about him torments my soul, wanting to defy every command he issues, but my ovaries find this asshole attractive.
And until we find even ground, I’ll keep my distance.
“What’s your plan when you find her?” I regain my resolve, remembering how he threatened my life only minutes ago.
“Since she ditched her duties for…” He starts, but pauses as if the mere thought entices his anger.
“For dick?”
The thought trickled out before I could contain it, and now I’m once again under the mercy of his leer. It doesn’t help he despises cursing. “Kill the fay she’s with.”
“You can’t do that.”
“Are you going to stop me?” He raises a daring brow, and I swallow a thick lump lodged in my throat, following a nod, yes.
“Oh?” Ethan approaches again, withdrawing the air back from my lungs and suffocating me silently.
“How?” Tingles form over the sensitive skin of my lips, his scent melding within the citrus and cinnamon taste of his question, and I kick myself for not keeping my distance.
It’s like I can’t control my own body around him.
“I don’t know,” I whisper. I tilt my chin, meeting his sight when a surge of energy nudges me back until I feel the wall’s cold touch.
Placing a hand beside my head and damn near pressing his body against mine, he speaks, “I’d love to see you try.”
Lord, if you’re up there, I need every drop of strength you can offer. My guardian angel’s forsaken me.
Our eyes entrap one another’s, and my dress vibrates from my heart’s obsessive beating. His own matches my cadence, judging from the throbbing vein in his neck, and we wait for one another to break.
My voice is a mere whisper, “Plus, Angie made a Heavenly Oath. You can’t kill me tonight, or she dies.” I play my delayed trump card. The twitch of his lips shows he is not pleased with her doing this.