Devil of a Chance, page 5
Last night, though, last night there’d only been one figure. He, too, had horns, but there’d been no wings, and his outline had been different. He’d reached out to me, and I’d felt that same soft touch at my cheek. I wanted to believe it was Samazrael. The familiarity I had in the dream was exactly what I had right then. I’d never met him before; I was sure of it, so why was my mind telling me I knew him?
Because it’s Samazrael, you idiot. I rolled my eyes at my inner voice. What’s so wrong with that? Admit it. He’s sexy as hell, and you like him. Who cares if you’re dreaming about him? Besides, he makes you feel something. When was the last time that happened?
“It’s not a good idea,” I muttered to myself.
You’re the only one standing in the way. He wouldn’t keep coming back if he didn’t like the view. You can’t deny what you feel toward him is way stronger than with those other demons. There’s a reason for that, don’t you think?
I threw the bar rag over my shoulder and busied myself with work, ignoring the scolding I was mentally giving myself. I went about my evening, making drinks and chatting with the people at the bar. Needing to use the restroom, I stepped away for a few minutes and ducked down the hall. At the sink, I splashed water on my face, wondering why I was so flushed. It was warm in the bar, but not this warm. I brushed it off as a random blistering flash from my ever-present anger, or my mind incessantly drifting to Samazrael’s rugged, stern face, and left the bathroom. I was pulling the sleeves down on my shirt when I froze.
Samazrael’s intimidating figure blocked the hall, his sea-green eyes giving off a subtle glow in the dim lighting. A tic started in his jaw, and he breathed heavily in and out through his nose. I was going to ask him if he was alright when I realized his eyes weren’t looking at me. Or at least not my face.
Quickly, I dragged my sleeves down the rest of the way. In three long strides, he closed the distance between us, grabbed my wrist far gentler than I expected, and shoved the fabric back up.
I tugged my arm back, but his grip didn’t budge. The scars on my forearm were hard to see in this light. From the way he scowled, he saw them just fine.
“Let go,” I snapped, hating how weak my voice sounded right then.
He lifted his head, and his gaze pierced me right to my core. “No.”
“Samazrael,” I said, but he growled, and I clamped my mouth shut.
I waited for my anger to explode, but nothing happened. It remained tightly coiled in my stomach. I shifted closer, not sure what made me do it. I needed to be nearer to him. That’s all I knew.
His thumb gently caressed the sensitive skin near my wrist, and I tensed. A spike of white-hot fire shot down my spine. No one touched those scars. Ever. As if waking from a dream, I yanked my arm away with enough force to break Samazrael’s hold. I pulled my sleeves down so abruptly that one of the cuffs tore at the seam.
“Do you mind?” I snapped, the comforting peace I’d felt from him seconds ago turning into a raging inferno while I glared.
“What happened to you?”
“It doesn’t matter. It was a long time ago.”
“Matters to me.”
I crossed my arms tightly over my chest and took a step back. “Why? Why do you keep coming to the bar? What do you want?”
“Who said I wanted anything,” he replied quietly.
“Your eyes. Every time you look at me.”
He straightened, the glow to his eyes brightening for a second until they dimmed. “Tell me how you got those scars.”
“No,” I said, attempting to give him the same piercing glower he’d given me.
From the way his brow arched, it didn’t have the same effect. Letting out a heavy sigh, I edged around him and out of the hall and marched back behind the bar. I turned around to tend to the few regulars there and cursed.
Samazrael had followed me and stood there tapping his claws on the counter. Vick and Jerry were in their usual spots. I caught them glancing from Samazrael to me then back to the demon. Ignoring them, I asked Samazrael if he wanted another drink. He said nothing, but I plopped a beer on the counter in front of him anyway.
“On the house,” I said with a bright smile.
He picked up the beer and set it to the side. I did my best to pretend he wasn’t standing only a few feet away, watching me like he usually did from across the room. Absently, I rearranged liquor bottles and wiped down glasses that were already spotless. No matter what I did to keep myself busy, my eyes constantly darted back to Samazrael.
And he didn’t move a damn muscle, mostly. That tic in his jaw seemed to be getting worse. A couple of times, I caught his eyes dart to my arms, and I nearly hurled a glass at his head to make him stop.
I turned my back on him, hoping it’d help.
Too bad it didn’t.
Our eyes locked in the mirror hanging on the wall, and the rest of the bar disappeared like it wasn’t there. He stood directly behind my right shoulder, tall and strong. It wasn’t hard to imagine what his wings would look like, spread out behind him. His eyes glowed even brighter, and his mouth parted enough for me to see a hint of his sharp fangs.
With every second that passed, I kept expecting to finally feel fear creeping in that he was here to harm me like so many others in my life had been.
Samazrael wasn’t merely a demon from Hell. There was far more to him. He was dangerous. Deadly. I should’ve been running in the other direction.
Only I didn’t. I wanted him, and that want stole the air from my lungs.
His eyes flared, and he leaned forward, reaching for my shoulder. Inches away from touching me, a shadow passed through his eyes. With a snarl, he yanked his hand back, turned, and exited the bar.
The chatter of the customers filled my ears again. I spun around.
Vick and Jerry eyed me curiously.
“What?” I asked, refilling their glasses with whiskey. My hand shook while another heated flash almost had me almost tugging my sleeves up. I stopped myself in time, not wanting anyone else to see my scars tonight. Hank was the only other person who knew about them. Why did Samazrael get so angry about them? Flushed and trembling more, I poured myself a shot of whiskey and drained it.
“You know that demon?” Vick asked.
“Not really.”
“Uh-huh. It seems like he knows you pretty well.”
“Well, he doesn’t,” I told Vick. “Just passing through.”
Jerry hesitated, looked ready to say something about it, too, but I walked away, not giving him a chance.
The remainder of the evening passed with me in a daze. Pretending everything was okay was easy since I did it all the time. I took care of the final tab and watched the customer head for the door. Zane locked it behind him, and I did my closing tasks fast as I could. Hank commented on my rushing around like a madwoman and asked if I was alright. After assuring him I was, I headed home, unable to stop thinking about Samazrael and that look he’d given me right before that weird change came over him.
Later that night, while I laid on the couch, aimlessly flipping through TV channels, my thoughts were still on Samazrael. I’d never paid much attention to the demons who passed through Turquoise Falls, but it was hard to ignore this one when he watched me as he did. Those sea-green eyes of his reminded me of a lagoon, not that I’d ever been to one. His messy hair around those obsidian horns had been various shades of brown and amber, like whiskey. His horns had a little curl at the ends and were shorter than some others I’d seen. They didn’t stick up straight or lay down flat but were somewhere in between. There was a firm set to his jaw, and those sharp cheekbones completed his brutish appearance. He was covered in tribal markings that stretched to the underside of his chin and around his neck.
His eyes came to mind again while mine drifted closed. His face might’ve been blank, but the unbridled emotions in those irises were palpable. There’d been so much agony and anger, hatred, and disbelief—nothing about what I saw made sense. Nothing about what passed between us in that drawn-out few seconds did either.
Then again, nothing about the last week seemed to be real. Not from the strange attack in the bar or from Samazrael showing up. He was there for a reason; that’s what my gut told me. But why did he only show up after those assholes did? Maybe they weren’t merely thugs who were randomly hanging out in the bar. The idea that they were Demon Hunters passed through my mind, but that’d be ridiculous. Everyone knew how fanatical they were. Why would they even try to come to this city teeming with demons?
The better question was, what did they want from me? I was nothing.
Are you sure about that?
“Don’t start,” I mumbled to the voice in my head.
I am merely pointing out that you are not, in fact, normal. Or nothing for that matter. Stop thinking so damn little of yourself. You made it through your own Hell and survived. And now, something incredible is about to happen to you if you’d stop doubting everything for two seconds.
“I’m ignoring you and going to sleep.” Grabbing another pillow to put under my head, I punched it a few times to get it right, laid back down, and scrunched my eyes shut.
After a while, I dozed, the noise from the TV drifting to the background while my breathing steadied and my body relaxed. Maybe tonight, I’d actually get a decent night’s sleep. I wasn’t sure how much time had passed when I awakened, coughing harshly. I sucked in a breath only to gasp and sputter. My eyes burned from the thick smoke filling my apartment. A fire alarm screeched, and I rolled off the couch, fighting to get air into my lungs. Squinting and staying low, my brain caught up with what was happening, and I crawled for the front door.
Outside my door, panicked screams filled the night. Fumbling for the deadbolt, I turned it. When I tried to pull open the door, it wouldn’t budge. Yanking on the handle with two hands did nothing except leave me in a gasping, cursing heap on the floor. Heat pressed in around me, and I scrambled to get away from what I’d thought would be my escape.
I barely made it to the couch again when my front door exploded inward.
My scream came out as a hoarse croak, and I buried my head under my arms. A second explosion sent flames rolling into my apartment, burning everything in their path. Debris fell around me, and a heavy beam pinned my legs.
Grimacing from the impact, I laid there stunned.
What are you doing? Get up! You have to move!
Jolted from the screaming of my inner voice, I pushed at the beam but wasn’t strong enough to shove it off. Flames crept closer, and the smoke was making it hard to think straight. I was going to pass out any second now. Probably for the best. The last thing I wanted was to feel those flames eating me alive. I shut my eyes, the immense heat a crushing weight. The fire had to be all around me. Bracing for the pain, I scrunched in on myself the best I could and waited.
When no pain came, and I was still somehow conscious, I frowned. Maybe I had passed out, and this was my brain trying to keep me from reacting to how bad my death was. Or I was already dead. Peeking an eye open, I tried again to scream. Flames were eating away at the sleeves of my shirt and my pants, but it didn’t hurt. Why didn’t it hurt?
A crash sounded from behind me, and a figure appeared in the flames. “Ashmielle!”
Samazrael? It had to be him.
A rush of relief flooded me, and I attempted to call out to him. He walked through the fire without pause. When he sank down beside me, the fury in his now solid black eyes was comforting in ways I didn’t stop to try and understand. His face had shifted, his brow furrowed, and his fangs far longer than they’d been at the bar earlier that evening. Growling ferociously, he grabbed the wooden beam with his elongated claws and threw it off my legs. I cursed at the sharp pins-and-needles pain, hoping they weren’t broken. Black, leathery wings burst from Samazrael’s back, surrounding me and blocking out the flames. With no effort at all, he scooped me into his arms, tucked my head against his heated chest, and took off through the ceiling. Fresh air hit my face, and I breathed it in gratefully.
His wings carried us away from the apartment building, which was now engulfed in flames. He landed on the sidewalk, where most of the other residents were gathered. Carefully, he set me on the ground, studying my face. His eyes drifted lower while he tentatively touched my shins. I winced, but I wasn’t as hurt as I thought I should be.
Weirder still was when I noticed that despite parts of my clothing having been burned away, the skin beneath wasn’t burned.
“What?” It was like the fire hadn’t touched me at all. “What’s happening?” I whispered.
Samazrael drew attention from the people around us, and he rolled his shoulders, flashing fang at them until they glanced away.
“How did you know?” I asked quietly. “Samazrael?”
Sirens approached, and he took a step back, his wings already fluttering, ready to take him into the sky. He seemed torn between staying and going. His head twitched, and snapping his jaws at me, he took off into the darkness, the gust from his wings flattening me to the sidewalk.
And all I could do was watch him fly away. How had he known where to find me? Or that I was in trouble? I yelled his name, hoping he’d come back, but he was gone in seconds.
Cursing, I sat on the sidewalk, wondering why I wasn’t dead.
Still, think you’re nothing?
I scowled, not acknowledging the words at all.
The firetrucks and ambulances arrived shortly after Samazrael left. I was helped onto a gurney even though I kept insisting I was okay. The paramedics checked me out all the same. I didn’t miss the astonishing glance they exchanged when I didn’t have a single burn on me. The only injury I had was bruising from where my legs had been crushed. I explained what happened inside, and the woman shook her head, muttering it was a damned miracle my legs weren’t broken.
“You’re one lucky chick,” she mused. “You should still go to the hospital for smoke inhalation. Just in case.”
“Really, I’m okay. I don’t want to go.”
Her lips thinned. “Please don’t make me argue with you. Better to be safe.”
I sighed but sat back down on the gurney. I stared at the apartment building out the back of the ambulance. The flames were still raging, and black smoke billowed from the windows. Damn. I didn’t own much, but what little I had was inside. None of it probably survived.
“Ashmielle!”
I spotted Hank running to me. He hauled himself into the ambulance and wrapped me in a bear hug.
“I’m alright,” I assured him. “Really.”
His eyes danced over my charred clothing. “How?”
“It’s a long story.”
“One you can tell me at my place. Until you find a new apartment, you’re bunking with me. No arguing. Gave me a heart attack, girlie.”
I puffed out my cheeks, thinking of a way not to be more of a burden to him, but gave up. The paramedic said we had to go to the hospital first. Hank said he’d meet us there, gave me one more hug, and climbed out of the ambulance. I watched the chaos out the back windows once I was on my way to the hospital. I just lost everything and somehow survived a fire that should’ve killed me. I waited for the adrenaline to wear off and panic to set in. I’d been in terrible situations before and was really good at keeping my shit together until I knew I was safe. Then I’d fall apart. But no tears came this time, not even anger.
The only thought I had while the paramedics drove me to the hospital was if I’d see Samazrael again.
Chapter 5
Samazrael
I landed a few miles from Ashmielle’s apartment, snarling at the voices screeching at each other inside my skull. Slamming my hands to my ears, I bellowed for them to shut up. The few people nearby scattered at my outburst. The humans who stayed stared at me, some obviously under the influence of some drug or other. Flashing my fangs, I took off into the air again, flying until I reached the outskirts of the city.
Crashing to the sands, I continued to snap my jaws and snarl, but the voices went on.
Why did you save her?
Should’ve let her burn, yes, she should’ve burned!
That’ wouldn’t work; she can’t burn. She’s his daughter. We should’ve slit her throat. Killed her!
No! we had to save her. Protect her. We can’t spill her blood, or Lucifer will kill us.
We can’t break our oath!
I buried my hands in the sand, resting my head on the ground, unable to hear myself think. Around and around, the voices went. With my eyes shut, I pictured the fire and how it started. The men who did it were dead in an alley. I’d been too late to stop the flames from spreading, but they’d never harm another person. Their souls were already in Hell, preparing to face their punishment for eternity. I’d overheard them talking about ensuring if she really was who they thought she was while I perched on a rooftop near Ashmielle’s place. If she didn’t die in the fire, they planned to snatch her off the sidewalk. Anyone else who perished in the fire was merely collateral damage to them. They’d laughed about taking innocent lives, sick bastards. I’d dispatched them, only afterward realizing keeping one of them alive would’ve been helpful in understanding who kept targeting Ashmielle.
Shit. I thought I was going to be too late. If Ashmielle was a human, she’d be dead.
But she wasn’t. She was Lucifer’s daughter, and the flames hadn’t touched her. How had she gone her whole life not realizing she was different? That beam should’ve crushed her legs. Demons weren’t invincible, but it was damn hard to wound us and leave scars.
Like the scars on her arms?
I snarled again, remembering those jagged lines crisscrossing her forearms. There’d been a few deeper ones, too. The one at her right wrist upset me the most. Had she done those to herself? She hadn’t wanted me to see them, that much was evident from the daggers she glared at me. What occurred after that moment in the hall was what left me reeling. I hadn’t merely been surrounded by her pulsing aura.
