Chapter 18
Seraphina
Ismooth my new white dress down over me, all the strange emotions I’ve been struggling with giving way to a giddy sort of happiness.
Somehow, between his hands, and his tongue, and his fingers, stroking my back…
I’ve fallen so fully into his trap that I’m starting to wonder if it really is a trap, after all.
I find myself believing it isn’t.
If it is, though, it’s a beautiful one.
I leave the bedroom, a wide smile plastered on my face, but freeze when I see Damien’s expression. His face is livid, his eyes flash dangerously. My happiness crumples. Has he already realized his mistake? Has the inevitable moment when he’ll cast me aside already arrived?
Without a word, he grabs my arm and pulls me outside the house to the car. The driver’s waiting there, as usual. I don’t even know his name—he’s always been a shadowy presence, on the other side of the tinted glass.
Damien practically throws me into the back of the car.
I expect him to follow me in, but instead, he walks around to the other side, opens the driver’s door, and whips out a gun.
A scream of surprise escapes my lips as he pulls on the trigger without so much as a word.
The driver crumples, and he slides the man out of his seat, leaving him bleeding out on the driveway.
I’m shaking when he returns to me, opens the door again and drags me out.
“Why… what…” I breathe.
In horror, I take in his bloodied shirt and his fierce expression.
I just have time to catch a glance of the driver’s corpse, his eyes unseeing but a look of surprise etched into the lines of his face, before Damien pushes me into the passenger seat, buckling my seatbelt around me.
Then he takes the driver’s place and pushes down on the gas pedal so hard that I’m whipped back against the seat.
I wait for him to slow down, but he only goes faster, weaving in and out of traffic at a terrifying pace. I clutch the sides of my seat, willing my panic to ebb enough to allow me to speak.
“Was he the rat?” I manage at last, my voice coming out in an unsteady spurt.
“Don’t know.”
He continues to drive at a maddening pace, and I find myself shutting my eyes, certain that we’ll crash.
“You… don’t know?” I squeak. “Then why did you kill him?”
“What I do does not concern you,” he growls. “Stop prying or so help me, I’ll whip your ass right here, on the side of the road.”
It’s been a while since he’s spoken so harshly. A lump rises in my throat, and I try desperately to swallow it.
A stifling silence settles between us. He seems to be lost in thought, and I have no desire to see him carry through on his threat. I know him well enough by now that I have no doubt he would.
Just when I thought I’d emerged from the darkness, I’m spiraling again. I did something wrong. I know I did. Otherwise, why would he be so angry?
When I glance up at his ferocious expression, though, I sense something else underneath the anger. Fear.
He’s afraid. But of what?
The thought that Damien of all people is afraid sends a pang of anxiety to the pit of my stomach.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
He throws me a furious glance, and I realize I’ve just disobeyed him. I’ve pried, and now he’s going to punish me in plain sight of all the passing cars. But I don’t care. Suddenly, I’m seething at the thought that he’s locking me out, that he’s in danger and not telling me.
But for once, he doesn’t make good on his threat. “I’ll deal with you later,” he merely scowls, and presses even harder on the gas pedal.
It occurs to me then that his fear is the reason we’re driving so fast. Has he discovered that someone is after us? Are we running from someone?
Could it be Angel? Did they track us down? Are they going to bury me alive again?
All else melts under the cold horror that rises up in me. I once thought of myself as brave, but just the memory of those five hours trapped in a coffin are enough to make me fall apart.
A terrified sob bubbles up from my throat before I can help it.
Damien quickly looks at me, and there’s no anger in his eyes anymore. He’s reading me, like he always does, and he clutches my hand, nearly crushing it in his. “I will not let anyone harm you. Do you hear me?”
I nod, trying to force my body to stop trembling.
I’m no longer afraid of his crazy driving. If anything, I hope he’ll go even faster. I understand now, as he leaves the highway, threading his way through tiny roads before making his way back into traffic, that he’s doing his best to lose whoever it is that’s following us.
I notice he’s wearing an earpiece, and soon he starts to talk to someone, Logan, I assume. I can barely hear his words over the roar of the engine, and I can’t hear Logan at all. I listen, attempting to piece together the puzzle, but my attempts leave me more confused than ever.
“Okay, so, Noel. No word yet on Aaron? You don’t think they’re working together?
So, what the fuck is Aaron doing? Do we have his position?
How far away is he? Noel, I mean. Have I lost him?
Is the tracker Vincent installed on his car still working?
Who the fuck told him? No one knew about that church.
What’s going on? Okay, listen to me. I want the place beefed up with security.
Get me a team of security guards. At least a dozen around the house.
He won’t be able to get in. How long will it take to manage that?
One week? Are you fucking kidding me? She’ll be dead by then. ”
I can’t help but gasp, and he glances at me, seeming to regret his thoughtless words.
“Shit. Of course I won’t let anything happen.
You know what, man, I’m going to have to deal with this myself.
Only way to get anything done around here.
Yeah, okay. Tonight, a motel. Yeah, get me somewhere discreet.
Once we’re absolutely sure he’s not following us, I’ll take her to the house.
I just paid two million for that place. Not about to let that shithead prevent us from moving in. ”
He hangs up, spews a string of curse words under his breath, then squeezes my hand again. “Don’t worry, darling. Nothing will happen to you. I’m right here. I’ll protect you.”
I nod, willing myself to believe his words. “Why does he want to kill me?”
Then I wince, remembering Damien’s threat to whip me if I pry.
But his only reaction is to look at me even more gently, before tearing his eyes away and fixing them once more on the road.
“He wants to see me suffer. I killed his best friend. I killed Elias. The two of them had some idiot scheme all worked out. They’d hide you away, and force me to help them take over Angel in exchange for giving them your location.
Instead, I killed Elias and found you without their help.
It took me eight months, but there’s nothing I won’t do… when it comes to you.”
He kisses my hand.
“Now Noel wants revenge. I’m not a bit worried, though. If you weren’t here with me, I’d go out right now and face him. But I have to find a safe place for you first.”
“Please,” I gasp. “Please don’t leave me.”
“I won’t,” he assures me. “Not yet.”
He kisses my hand again, and I force myself to try to be content with that promise.
I know there’s no point in insisting. Still, the idea that he would go out to face that killer, endangering himself, because of me, angers me even more than it terrifies me.
But I grit my teeth, unwilling to force him to deal with all my conflicting emotions when he has enough of his own.
“What about the rest of Angel?” I ask. “Are they after me too?”
“I doubt it,” he answers. “I blew up Gabriel with a bomb.”
He smirks when he notices my shocked expression.
“We can assume he’s dead,” he continues. “I shot Lazarus, and Elias too. That leaves Noel.”
“And Aaron.”
“Right.” Two deep frown lines appear between his eyes. “Aaron.”
He appears to turn his entire attention back to the road, but the silence between us is uneasy. At last he breaks it.
“I have no clue about Aaron. Maybe he’s dead. Maybe he’s abandoned ship. I have no fucking clue.”
The twitch in his jaw tells me he’s thinking the same thing as me.
“We won’t worry about that now,” he continues after a beat. “No use borrowing trouble. Noel is the one after you. He’s the threat for now. We’ll figure out Aaron later. Don’t worry, my darling,” he adds in a soft voice. “I’m going to take good care of you. I always will.”
I rest my head against the hand that’s still clutching mine, and before I know it, his warmth lulls me to sleep, despite his speeding and the knowledge that we’re being hunted.
__
I wake up a while later. Night has fallen, the car is parked in a gravelly lot, the door on the driver’s side is open, and Damien is nowhere to be found.
I barely manage to stifle a scream of terror. Have they found us? Have they taken Damien off to kill him? Are they going to kill me next? Or did he desert me?
That last thought is the worst one, but a second later, my own door is opened, and I crumple in relief at the sight of him. My husband. He lifts me up, but stops in surprise as he takes in my expression.
“What happened?” he asks urgently.
I collapse in his arms, sobbing with happiness. “I thought… I thought you were gone…”
“You’re a very silly girl,” he growls. “Come on.”
He leads me to a building that I recognize as a motel, and unlocks one of the doors. We enter a small room, entirely made up in stuffy chintz, and he lights the dusty table lamps. Then he carefully draws all the curtains, locks the door again, and pushes the heavy dresser against it.
“That should do it,” he mutters, then turns to face me. “Clothes off.”
I blink at him in confusion.
“Take your clothes off. And don’t make me ask again.”