Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
Between one breath and the next, his wolf form dissipates, and a naked John stands in front of me.
I stumble again, the shock almost sending me to my knees.
John grabs me before I fall. My stomach tumbles, and my heart leaps.
I feel sick. On instinct as I expect a blow, my hands come up to protect my face and quickly I back away from him. What the hell…what the hell happened?
I look John up and down with incredulous eyes. A naked John.
Oh, hell.
I rub my face, and my skin weirdly prickles with awareness as I stare open-mouthed at the beautiful, naked hellhound.
I press my lips closed, unwilling to speak.
I don’t trust my mouth. It might blurt out every tangled, confused thought screaming through my head.
The emotions I’m feeling are nuts. Even now my eyes find his abs.
God was clearly biased when he made this man, because he is perfect.
Every sloping muscle, every hard ridge is perfect.
Perfect, perfect, perfect.
The words bounce around in my head. I try not to think about my scars and Bert. I’m obviously not perfect. It makes me sad for a moment until I remind myself that there is beauty in my scars, in my imperfection. Beauty in the knowledge that I’ve survived.
John might be physically perfect. Yet inside he is rotten.
I tuck my hands behind my back, as I am still liable to reach out and run them up and down that bumpy torso. What the hell is wrong with me? A beautiful face and I’m enamoured—enamoured by a monster. A man who has committed atrocities against me. A man that has ruined me.
I hate myself. There is something seriously wrong with my head. There is something fundamentally wrong with me.
I wrestle with my libido and gather my crazy thoughts together. The question is, what is John doing here? Where is Riddick? What the hell is going on?
“Where is Riddick?” I ask. “If you’ve hurt him…” John drops his sorrowful green eyes and rubs his temple.
With that one look…I know.
Bam. Everything clicks into place.
Betrayal, sharp and bitter, hits me in the chest.
My heart feels like it has been eviscerated. Riddick…Emma, you stupid cow, Riddick isn’t real. I close my eyes and rub my chest. God, it hurts. My shock is a ball of pain in my chest, it’s stuck in my throat.
Ha, I dismissed the truth when it was staring at me in the face when I first met Riddick and I noted that he looked like a colossal version of my pup.
Of course there was a resemblance…he is her brother. Of course he stayed in wolf form; it was never about being forced.
It was a disguise to manipulate me.
For a second I wilt, embarrassed by my obliviousness. How could I be so stupid? I let out a deranged laugh.
Riddick is John.
I continue to laugh. My manic, deranged laughter echoes around the bare room. My hands flutter to my mouth to try to hold the crazy in. I can’t trust myself. I survived this man. Yet, look at me…still being punished. I tug at my hair.
“What? Why?” Oh my God, Riddick is John.
“Why? Why?” I say again, more insistently.
His expression is grim. He prowls forward and takes my upper arms captive, stopping me from pulling at my hair, but his hold doesn’t stop me from pushing him away.
“Why?” Another push, warm naked skin. “Why?” Another push.
“Why? Why? You were my friend,” I wail. Now, like I have turned a tap, the tears come.
I’m angry, God, I’m so angry, and I feel so sad. So, so helpless. I bitterly laugh through my sobs. Has this all been some elaborate test? A joke.
“Riddick was my friend,” I whisper brokenly through my tears and my tight, straining throat.
John pulls me to him and attempts to gather me into his arms. I struggle a little more against him, but it’s useless.
His arm around my waist is like a manacle, shackling me to him.
My body sags into his warmth. I hiccup a sob.
Was I so transparent? Give me someone in animal form, even a hellhound, and I hand over my trust like an idiot. “Why?” I ask.
“I had to make sure,” John says, his voice rough, deep, agonised.
“Make sure of what? Why would you do this? Let go of me.” What the hell am I doing, taking comfort from this man? This monster. I finally push away from him. My breath shudders and another stupid tear, a rebellious tear, slips down the side of my nose. Gah, my eyes need to stop leaking.
My friend wasn’t real…Riddick wasn’t real. This entire time, was it all a sick game? “What? Tell me. Was it all a trick? A game?” I say mournfully. “Did I pass? Did I pass your fucking test?”
“You truly don’t know,” John says with a swallow, his evil eyes sad. No, how dare he, he doesn’t get to feel sad.
“I don’t know what?” I scream at him. “I told you everything, God, I helped your sister. I had nothing to do with anything beyond that. Didn’t almost killing me satisfy you?”
“Demons lie—”
“I’M NOT A FUCKING DEMON!” I screech.
Silence as we look at each other. I shake my head and turn away from him with disgust; otherwise, I’m going to hit him. God forgive me, but I want to hurt him. The man is psychotic.
I rest my hand on the wall. The texture is sharp, jagged underneath my palm.
“Emma, think…your father was a demon. That means you are half demon.”
“No—that’s not true. No.” I shake my head. “That is not bloody true.” John takes my face in his hands. He gently cups my cheeks and brushes away my tears with his thumbs. “I don’t believe you,” I mumble.
“Please don’t cry.” He rests his forehead against mine.
My God, I can see the truth in his green eyes.
I am a demon…how did I not recognise that I was a demon?
To quote Sherlock Holmes, “When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.” What a bloody silly idiot I am.
I’m still that na?ve, stupid little girl.
Even after everything…I’ve yet to learn my lesson. I haven’t changed at all.
“I’m part…demon…I’m a demon? Am I evil?” I mumble.
“Being a demon does not make you evil, Emma. It makes you powerful. Power corrupts. Demons as a race aren’t evil, just as angels aren’t inherently good. You are a lovely person. A good person.” The hellhound continues to stare at me, into me, his green gaze intense. “Too good.”
“All this time…all this time I thought you were wrong. I convinced myself that you made a mistake in taking me.” My voice breaks.
“I thought you were stupid, blinded. I couldn’t contemplate how you could conclude that I was a demon.
My God, you were right.” I again push away from him.
With a self-deprecating laugh, I wobble away to the other side of the room and sag against the wall.
“Can I even use that word, ‘God’? Will He strike me down?” My eyes drift up to the ceiling.
Nothing makes sense in this world anymore.
I am bruised from the inside out.
“Why do you keep hurting me?” I whisper. “What have I ever done to you?”
“I had to determine what your involvement was in the murder of my pack. I had to ascertain that you did not know what you are. That you unequivocally told the truth.”
I shake my head and laugh bitterly. “Your conclusion?”
“I absolve you. You are innocent.” Oh, thanks for that, John, so kind of you to bloody absolve me. “You didn’t know, you genuinely didn’t know. Emma, how do you not know? Sam said your eyes went black when you stopped those vampires at the stables.”
Sam said that? I swallow down another bitter betrayal. Wow, they keep coming, don’t they? “Why didn’t Sam speak to me? Is everyone in on this?”
What a fool…I’m such a bloody fool.
I rub the back of my head against the wall as my brain struggles to line up all those little puzzle pieces together.
I frown and tap my lips with my fingertips.
“So…so you wanted to trick me? Force me to go all demon on you…to prove you right? You believed I was faking…” I rub the seal around Bert’s bag.
Was it all a setup? My eyes widen in shock, and I look at him in horror.
“Killing Arlo in front of me…the vampire attack at the house…the lack of a ward. The car crash, the kidnapping, all those questions…” My lips part with realisation.
“You killed all those vampires…to, what? Test me? Why…why would you do that?” I swallow, and my heart aches.
“I killed that vampire. His name…was Charles,” I husk out.
I grow agitated and my voice rises. “Those two vampires…did you set it up so those vampires would hurt Bob and Munchkin, to get a reaction out of me?” I tilt my head to the side.
“But…you missed it when I went after them. According to Sam, my eyes went black, and you missed it. So you set this up as an elaborate hoax…of fake torture. With your fake silver collar, so you could sit all back of the bus as Riddick and have a front-row seat to my demon unveiling. My downfall. See my reaction first-hand with no distractions. Were you expecting a James Bond-style villain speech? Well, you horrible evil bastard, are you happy that you are fucking right?” I hold my hands out.
“Aren’t I the most pathetic, worthless demon you have ever seen?
” I laugh bitterly. “I helped your sister, yet you tortured me. Not once, but over and over again. Riddick was my friend, and you used that against me. You used my love against me. I loved Riddick—”
My voice breaks on a sob. John flinches.
“What a stupid fool I am…did you have a good laugh? Have I finally passed your tests, or are there to be more? Now that you have your answers…am I expendable? Like the vampires? Are you going to kill me like you did those vampires? Didn’t you think to ask Arlo?
Before you chopped his fucking head off, but no, you didn’t, did you?
As you got it into your head that I was the mastermind…
ha, I forgot it’s always the overlooked blonde who is the evil genius. ”
“I’m sorry—”
“You’re sorry? No—no.” I raise my eyebrows and point a shaking finger at him. I rock on my toes. “You don’t get to say that. You don’t get to say sorry because you got caught.”
“Emma, when I was with you as Riddick, our time together was genuine. What I feel for you is genuine.” What? His beautiful green eyes plead.
The man is nuts.
I wipe the tears from my face with my dirty hands. “Genuine? You wouldn’t know genuine if it slapped you across the face. You are so full of shit. You don’t have any feelings for me, not without an ulterior motive.” I turn away from him. I can’t look at him; the man is pure evil.
“I still want the angel to heal you.”
I huff and laugh bitterly. My sanity is fraying.
“Oh, how very magnanimous of you, let the angel fix your mess.” I look at the honey-eyed guy tucked away in the corner by the door.
Has he been here this whole time? “Will you do it, will you be able to heal me?” The angel’s eyes widen.
Yeah, I worked that shit out hours ago. The angel nods.
I huff. “Thank you,” I say with gritted teeth.
“If your magic can put everything back, I’d appreciate it.
” Sorry, Mr Hanlon, I know you were looking forward to the reversal surgery.
“Just the internal stuff, not the scars.” I glare at John. “If you can, please don’t remove the scars. I’ve. Earned. Them,” I bite out.
“I can unlock the rest of your demon powers—”
“My powers? I have blocked demon magic?” I interrupt the angel, staring at him incredulously.
Oh wow, there is more to come? Well, isn’t that just dandy.
The angel nods and narrows his eyes. “Yes, it looks as if they bound them when you were a child. It’s a normal thing to do—children are by definition difficult. It’s a simple but strong binding.”
“Will I hurt anyone?”
“That would be unlikely,” the angel replies softly. I want to say, “Well then, let the bitch out.” I barely hold my tongue. I want to scream, and cry, rage at everyone, at the world. My head is rattled, my stupid heart is in pieces. I’m going through the motions of dealing with this shitshow.
Demon, demon, demon.
The word rattles around in my head, festering. How could I have not seen this? It has been in front of me this whole time. Now the honey-eyed angel is going to heal me, oh, and yeah, release my demon powers.
Ha, demon powers. Bloody hell.
Will my eyes go black like Arlo’s, will I have scary teeth? Sharp, jagged things that will fill and poke out of my mouth? This is a nightmare.
A nightmare I’m going to have to embrace. John wanted to see, he wanted to see a monster.
Well, looky here, he has created one.
“Aren’t you worried that I’ll want revenge?” I ask John.
“No.” Ha, he is so sure. Yet recently he was convinced that I was something evil hiding behind a human mask.
Perhaps I am? I don’t know anything anymore.
What was up is now down…my whole life, my entire identity has been turned on its head.
I’m no longer that elegant human girl, no no, I’m half demon.
“No, you are right—I don’t want revenge. I didn’t want to be hurt in the first place,” I whisper.
I nod politely to the angel. His hands glow gold. “Okay, I’m ready.” I don’t want John here watching, but I don’t have the strength to ask him to leave.
“You might need to sit.” We both look at the metal chair.
I cringe. He shrugs, and his glowing hands come closer and closer towards me.
He gently takes hold of my face. His enormous hands cradle the back of my head, and his thumbs rest on my cheekbones.
I blink up at his honey eyes. We both ignore John’s growl.
The small hairs on my arms and the back of my neck rise and my skin tingles.
I shiver. Is this what magic feels like?
Does everyone feel tingles and warmth? It’s nice.
“So much damage, so much pain,” the angel murmurs as his golden magic twists and sparkles through me. “This is a lot of healing to do at once, I didn’t realise…you need to sit down—” They are the last words of his I hear as I crumple into strong, waiting arms.
Blackness.