The devils flower, p.21
The Devil's Flower, page 21
part #1 of The Eternal Beings Series
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Blaze and the handsome, black-haired man escorted Rosalie back down to the room in the cellar. The others stayed upstairs, presumably to act as guards.
Blaze flicked on a fluorescent light, which brightened the room considerably more than the single dangling bulb.
Under the brighter light, Rosalie could now see she was in a workout room. Weight lifting and exercise equipment lined the cement block walls. The source of the heady scent became clear—a build-up of sweaty, stale air in a room with no windows or air vents.
Blaze shoved Rosalie to the center of the room. The man walked over to Rosalie and regarded her with cool, gray eyes that she knew, too well, marked him as a neophyte.
"So, you're the beautiful Rose who's twisted Steele's mind into betraying his brethren," he said, his voice deep and gravely.
Too scared to issue a comeback, Rosalie stood stock still with her fingers knitted together to keep them from shaking.
"Well, he's a fool. He's weak. He allowed you to seduce him with your charm. We're doing him a favor by killing you." He circled Rosalie once as he spoke. "He'll thank us for it one day."
"Yes, Rose, especially when I tell him about the weapon you brought with you to slay him with," Blaze said, smiling wickedly and waving Rosalie's gun at her.
With a shaky voice, Rosalie said, "He won't believe you. He knows I love him."
Blaze's smile increased. "Does he?"
Rosalie's heart sank farther. She'd never gotten the chance to tell him how much she loved him, and now he would never know. Maybe he'd even believe Blaze.
Blaze looked from the man to Rosalie, a sly grin forming on her face. "Where are my manners? I haven't properly introduced you two yet. Rose, this is Luther, the new leader of the Canyon Beasts, Meloch's brother. Luther, this is Rose, the demon-slaying bitch."
Rosalie looked from Luther back to Blaze.
"You helped pull that trigger when you taught me how to shoot," Rosalie said. She didn't miss the flinch of annoyance that flashed across Blaze's face.
"The demon-slaying skill was already buried deep inside you, waiting to burst through all that goodness. The only reason I took you to the range was to see how much skill you possessed. I was very impressed, to say the least. From that moment on, I knew I had to stay close to you. You know the saying, 'keep your friends close and your enemies closer.'"
Rosalie didn't like the way Luther eyed her. She cringed and inched away when he took a step closer to her. He reached out, lifted her hair off one side of the front of her jacket, and pulled her to him. His other hand rested on the back of her head. Cold chills, like icy fingers, raked down her spine. Her shoulders tensed. His fingers in her hair turned into a fist. He pulled tightly. Rosalie shrieked in pain as Luther forced her to her knees.
"While this is all very amusing, and I can see where you're taking it, we don't have the luxury of time, Luther. We either kill her now, or risk a battle with Steele, which is inevitable anyway, but I'd rather fight him after she's dead and we're stronger."
Rosalie crouched, her hands pressed to the cold cement, her face inches away from the slime-coated drain in the floor. Luther pulled back on her hair; she looked up at two long, leather-clad legs.
"Get the weight bench and bring it here." Blaze said. "It will have to do as a sacrificial table. We don't have time to take her to the portal room. Unless you have one here in the store?"
Luther shook his head.
With a shove that flattened her on the cement, Luther released his grip on Rosalie's hair. She pushed herself into a sitting position. She'd never felt such a sense of hopelessness in all her life. Not even while her stepfather violated her had her life seemed so grim. Existence was about to end. Steele would think she came back to kill him. Would she even go to the Light Realm when she was dead? She hadn't fulfilled her fledgling duty. Maybe she would end up in the Dark Realm, or maybe her spirit would just cease to exist.
Luther grunted as he lifted the weight-loaded barbell off its supports. Metal scraped against cement as he pushed the bench toward her. Blaze pressed a gun to Rosalie's temple, grabbed her arm, and forced her to her feet. No sooner had Rosalie caught her balance, than Blaze forced her to lie down on the bench.
Realizing the futility of pleading, Rosalie set her mind to work searching for another way out of this mess.
"Do you have any rope in this place?" Blaze asked sharply.
Luther bolted from the room, leaving Rosalie alone with Blaze, who sat on top of Rosalie, straddling her hips. The cool barrel of the gun brushed against her neck.
"Shame it has to end so soon. We could have so much fun together, Rose." As she spoke, Blaze pushed open the front of Rosalie's jacket, then slid a cold hand under Rosalie's shirt and began a slow, sensual journey upward toward her breasts.
Rosalie willed her racing heart to slow. Maybe she could make use of the other woman’s actions, twist them to her advantage, and stall. But could she? Seduce Blaze? Even though the thought turned her stomach, the ploy would buy her time. But then, what happened once Luther returned? He’d surely want in on the act, too, and Rosalie didn't think she could go that far.
"Poor Steele will never have the pleasure of making love to you." Blaze played with the lace on the edge of Rosalie's bra, then she slipped her hand all the way inside and grabbed a mound of flesh, while the other hand still held the gun to the side of Rosalie's face.
Rosalie stared blankly into her attacker's frosty eyes. She couldn't bring herself to act, to go along with the idea of seducing evil, even to stall . . . but then she felt Blaze's lips on hers, forcing hers apart.
Rosalie wrapped her arms around Blaze, and kissed her with as much false passion as she could summon. She tangled one of her hands in Blaze's hair and slid the other down her back, hoping to find a weapon concealed in the waistband of her leather pants, where Steele kept his hidden.
Blaze's lips trailed to Rosalie's neck, then to her ear.
"I know what you're doing, angel," she whispered, "and as much as I wish we had time for a threesome, we don't."
Blaze raised herself off Rosalie. One hand rested on her hip, the other hand cradling the gun. "It would have been hot, though."
With a sly smile, she un-straddled Rosalie as Luther came back into the room.
He got to work immediately, securing Rosalie's wrists to the barbell supports and her ankles to the bench legs.
Once Luther bound her securely, Blaze knelt on one side of the bench, Luther on the other.
"Blaze." Rosalie yanked frantically at her bindings. "Don't do this."
Blaze laid a cold hand on her cheek.
"I know, angel, you want more," she said in a mocking tone, "but there isn't time."
With a frustrated groan, Rosalie looked past them both, to the grime-coated, ceiling light.
"Get on with it." Luther's gruff voice sounded agitated.
"Patience, Luther."
Blaze pulled a long, black dagger out of her boot, then placed it on Rosalie's chest, the tip of the blade pointing toward her chin. Rosalie's heartbeat quickened. Her fingers curled tightly around the metal bars to which Luther had bound her. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Blaze reach inside her jacket and pull out two tiny glass vials hanging from a cord around her neck.
Blaze held one apart from the other. "This is a single drop of your blood. I took it on the day of your car accident, when Lithium and I found you, before we got you back to the lodge.
"We only need two more items from you, angel, and one you are about to offer us". Blaze sat back on her calves and expelled a fake, heart-wrenching sigh. "I can just imagine the look on Steele's face when he shows up here with Lexie and sees your dead body. He'll blame himself for the rest of his existence. He loves you more than he's ever loved anyone, Rose."
As hard as she tried, Rosalie couldn’t stop the tears from escaping. They puddled at the corners of her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. Quickly, Blaze snatched one up with one of the open vials.
"Thanks, angel. Besides your last dying breath, which we will soon have, and the drop of your blood, a single tear shed for love was all we needed." Her smile was sickeningly sweet.
How could she be so stupid? Rosalie knew the three things a demon needed to gain eternal life, and in her moments of heartache, she'd forgotten.
"Let's get this over with, Blaze," Luther said, constantly scanning the doorway.
Blaze exchanged her smirk for a more formidable look. "Right. It's time."
Blaze placed the dagger at the neckline of Rosalie's white cotton top. Rosalie stopped breathing as the blade cut through the fabric, all the way to the hem.
Luther grabbed the two pieces of material and flung them open. He gasped as his gaze fell on her rapidly rising chest. She would have been bare to her hips had it not been for her lacy white bra.
With both hands on the hilt of the dagger, Blaze positioned the point over Rosalie's heart. No one breathed as she lowered it, denting the skin on the top of Rosalie's left breast.
Overcome by hopelessness, Rosalie closed her eyes tightly and concentrated on the sting as the blade sank into the first layer of skin. She felt something thick and warm trickle down her left side. She smelled the metallic scent of her own blood mixed with the scent of steel from Blaze’s weapon of death.
The dagger broke through the next layer of skin; she grunted with the pain. For God’s sake, why didn’t Blaze just shove the damn blade in all the way and get it over with? Rosalie pried her eyes open, but tears blurred her vision. She could barely make out Blaze and Luther, hovering over her, their lips moving rapidly. They spoke too low for Rosalie to hear, but she realized they were chanting, their heads bowed, their eyes shut, both of them gripping the dagger's hilt.
Rosalie lowered her gaze to the dagger, piercing her skin. The sight and scent of the blood and the overwhelming sensation of dying made Rosalie's eyelids shut, and she knew she would never open them again.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Darkness and agony embraced Rosalie. Her chest felt as though someone had ripped out her heart, and searing, hot pain filled the cavity where it used to be. She knew of only one place she could be—the Dark Realm. The cold numbed all of her—except her anguish.
She heard the sound of wings beating in the far distance. The flapping grew louder, distracting her from her pain. The blackness turned gray. Voices, as familiar as her own, surrounded her. She felt pressure on her wrists and ankles.
Then, the most beautiful of all voice yelled out her name. She felt a soft touch on the side of her neck and heard another familiar voice say, "Her pulse is strong. I think she just passed out."
To her right, she heard the sounds of struggling. The voice calling to her sounded closer now, so close that she felt a refreshing, cool breath on her face. Shimmers of warmth spread through her body, replacing the cold. Her eyes fluttered open.
"Rose."
A bright light haloed Steele's head. Two gleaming, silver pools of torment filled his eyes. He had come for her, just in time to watch her die. A soft moan slipped through her lips as she tried to speak.
"Steele."
Steele lifted her head and cradled her against his shoulder. Rosalie felt him sigh, and his movement brought such pain, she screamed and flinched back from him. A quick glance told her the dagger still protruded from her chest. The sight made her sick, and she fought a wave of dizziness. The blade hadn't made it all the way to her heart; Rosalie held onto that thought, to the light of hope it brought, as Steele grabbed the hilt. He tossed the knife over his shoulder, and she heard the blade hit the floor.
Steele stared down at her with tortured eyes.
"It'll be all right. I'll fix it," he said softly as he smoothed the hair on her forehead.
To her surprise, he lowered his face to her chest. His lips were as soft as rose petals on the fiery, wounded flesh, but a rough, prickly feeling edged the delicate touch. She felt his tongue probe the gash, working its way up and down as he healed her from the inside out. She found his shoulders and gripped the leather with tense fingers, clenching her teeth, squeezing her eyes shut as she waited. The noises in the background receded, until there were only the two of them, alone in the room.
After several moments, Steele raised his head to look at her. Relieved of most of the pain and brain fog, Rosalie saw his face more clearly now. The skin under his eyes formed dark, shallow grooves, deepened since she'd last seen him. She let her gaze trail down his straight nose to his parted lips, and then farther down. A dark, scruffy beard—a couple weeks' worth of growth, at least—covered the lower half of his face. In her eyes, it only added to his toughness, and she loved him that much more.
She lifted a weak hand and with her thumb, wiped away the small bit of her blood smudged on his bottom lip.
Steele grabbed her hand and held it to his face.
"You crazy girl," he said at almost a whisper. "You almost died."
"She will yet." Blaze. "She'll never be safe as long as I'm alive."
Rosalie tore her gaze away from Steele's and let her head fall to the side.
Blaze stood close to the door, immobilized by the gun Lexie pointed at her—Rosalie's gun with the poison-coated bullet. Near Blaze, Luther lay in a puddle of blood, multiple bullet holes scattered across his chest and a submachine gun on the floor beside his body. Something clicked in Rosalie's head; the firing of the machine gun must have been what she'd thought was the sound of wings beating.
"That can be fixed," Lexie said. She sounded like her old, normal, tough self. "Let me send her back to Hell, Steele. You heard the bitch; Rose'll never be safe as long as Blaze lives."
Lexie defended her! Rosalie couldn't believe her ears. She looked at Steele. He had to decide whether Blaze lived or died, and Rosalie could see the inner struggle on his face.
"Just hold her there, Lexie."
Lexie let out a breath, clearly frustrated. Blaze looked at her smugly.
"Give me a reason, bitch." Lexie goaded Blaze. "The barrel's pointed right at your black heart, so I wouldn't look too smug if I were you."
Rosalie tried to sit up. Steele slipped an arm around her shoulders and helped her into a sitting position.
"You lost some blood. Don't get up too fast."
"What are you going to do with her?" Rosalie nodded toward Blaze.
"Lithium's on his way. He can deal with her."
She nodded again. Yes, let Lithium deal with her . . . she and Steele had enough to handle.
"Is the pain gone?"
"Yeah." The worst agony had eased, anyway, and that was all he needed to know. "I thought I was dead. I can't believe Lexie got you here so quickly."
Steele grabbed Rosalie's jacket.
"Not quickly enough," he said as he zipped past the newly formed scar.
"So, what now?" Rosalie asked.
Steele got to his feet and bent to retrieve the rope Luther had used to bind Rosalie to the bench. "We wait for Lithium."
* * * * *
Steele walked over to Blaze. She wore such an amused expression that Steele had a difficult time looking at her. She'd been a sister to him, a mom, at times even a bedmate, but most of all, a best friend. Rosalie had survived her ordeal, and although he had the upper hand, he couldn't bring himself to kill Blaze. Not this time. But if she ever provoked him again, he wouldn't think twice. He would spare her now, for Lithium's sake, but there would be no second chances.
"Put your hands behind your back." He sounded as tired as he felt.
With an amused laugh, she did as he asked. "What's the matter, Steele, great leader of the Fallen Ones? You seem to have lost your passion for the kill."
He ignored her as he bound her wrists. Once he had her secured, he searched her for weapons. This seemed to amuse Blaze even more, and she spread her legs nice and wide. But Steele had no intention of playing along. He ran his hands lightly over her upper body, to her waist, and then went straight to her boots. He found a small gun and a knife in the first boot, stuffed them in a jacket pocket for safekeeping, and then moved on to check the next boot.
"Oh, come on. You know you want to run your hands up the inside of my thighs. It's not like it would be the first time now, would it?" She smiled seductively, raking her gaze down his body.
Steele tightened his jaw. Fighting a mixture of anger and hurt, he shoved her, pushing her to the floor. Then, with a final look of disgust, he turned away, no longer able to stomach her presence.
"Maybe next time then, huh, baby?" Blaze said.
Steele ignored her and refocused his attention on Rosalie. Judging by the look on her face, he had a little explaining to do.
* * * * *
Lexie looked at Rosalie, and for once, Rosalie thought Steele’s sister didn’t seem pleased to see her in pain.
"Don't listen to her, Rose. She's just trying to get under your skin. Oops, wrong choice of words," Lexie said, confirming Rosalie’s suspicion that Lexie was on her side.
Steele gave his sister a look, and Lexie ducked her head, grinning sheepishly. Rosalie tried not to show any reaction, but Blaze’s statements had bothered Rosalie. Was the crazy bitch telling the truth? Did the club share girlfriends? Rosalie put the thought to the back of her mind—for now.
Steele's search of Blaze turned up more weapons. He checked the gun's magazine for ammunition, and then he held it out to Rosalie. "Here, take this. You might need it."
"What a good shot she is, too. After all, she was taught by the best." Blaze taunted from her position on the floor. She leaned back against the wall, her legs stretched out in front of her, one crossed over the other.
Rosalie thought she looked too comfortable.
"Oh, and did I mention how yummy she tastes?" Blaze flashed her signature sly smile and licked her lips.
Rosalie gasped.
"But you already know that, don't you, Steele, or haven't you gotten that far yet?"
Rosalie watched breathlessly as Steele bit down on his lip. Was he angry with her or with Blaze and her goading? Blaze worked to get on his last nerve, and Rosalie could see he was about to snap. She wanted him to stay as calm as possible, so she snapped her mouth shut and took the gun.
