Descent (Kissed by Death) - Tara Fuller Page 0,46
I’d just escaped. The sick truth was it was easier to face a bar full of savages than confront the truth in her eyes. I was a fucking coward. It was time to end this. We needed to find Tyler and get the hell out of here. I had to get her back where she belonged before I ruined her and she wasn’t welcome anymore. At the bottom of the stairs, the club was still in full swing, but then again, this was Hell. There was no closing time or limit on torture. It was a never-ending cycle that stretched out before me, dark and ugly.
It was my future. My forever. And for the first time in my afterlife…that bothered the hell out of me.
I shook off the hopelessness, pissed off that Gwen had forced me into wanting something I could never have. Ignoring the whistles and catcalls coming from the smooth-tongued succubi twirling around the dance floor, I pushed through the crowd. Coming down here without a shirt on, displaying my scars, wasn’t going to do me a damn bit of good. But then again, neither was seeing Red, half naked, with her flawless pearl-like skin begging to be touched.
A cold, dead finger slid down my spine, extinguishing the flare of desire inside me.
“Come back to play, reaper?” a familiar gravelly voice said behind me.
“Depends.” I turned around and flashed Mya my best grin. She smiled back at me with gray teeth and glowing eyes, tossing her long black hair over her shoulder. “I’m looking for someone. Think you could help me with that?”
She pursed her glossy lips and trailed a finger down one of the scars on my chest. I fought the urge to shove her away and played along.
“What’s in it for me?”
“The next time I’m through, I’ll bring you something pretty,” I offered. “What do you like, sweetheart? Blond, brunette? Devoted husband, college quarterback with his bright future freshly snatched away? Name your candy and I’ll deliver.”
A hungry gleam lit her eyes, and a wicked smile curled her lips. “Right now, I’m in the mood for a reaper. Sexy scars, messy hair, and violet eyes. Mmmm… I can smell it on you.”
I swallowed back the bile in my throat, feeling sick. “Smell what?”
“Your happiness,” she hissed.
Gwen. She wanted to take away what Gwen had given me. Rip open the wounds she’d worked so hard to heal. A week ago, I would have given it to Mya willingly. A week ago, I couldn’t have cared less about what some naive angel thought or felt. Now the thought of Gwen hurting for nothing made me nauseous.
“Give me a taste and I’ll tell you anything you want to know,” Mya said, her voice going high and needy. “I haven’t smelled anything that pure in ages.”
I swallowed thickly and fisted my blade, hating what I was about to do, even if it was for Gwen. For Tyler. For a million reasons that had nothing and everything to do with me. “A soul was brought down a few days ago. One that wasn’t supposed to be here. I want him.”
Her eyes grew wide as her smile slipped. “I…I…don’t know.”
“Ah…” I tipped her chin up, forcing her eyes to shift back to me. “See there. You, my dear, have one shitty poker face.”
“You’ll never get out of here with him,” she snapped, jerking away from my touch. “That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? You want to take him back.”
“He’s mine,” I said, simply. “I want what’s mine. His being here is a mistake. I don’t do mistakes.”
She laughed, a black, hysterical sound that gave me chills. “He belonged to Hell the moment that bumbling reaper friend of yours handed him over. You should cut your losses before you lose the other one. She really is quite pretty. She’s the reason you smell so delicious, isn’t it? I’ll bet she tastes even better.”
The thought of Mya touching Gwen turned my vision red. In one swift move, I pulled my scythe from my belt and shoved her back against a wall. I balanced my blade against her abdomen, keeping it out of view.
“Tell me where he is,” I growled.
She licked her lips, desire flickering behind her gaze despite the blade at her belly. For Mya, this was nothing more than foreplay. “Taste first.”
I thought about going the other route. Signing up for another round of pain. But the memory of Rok’s fists and blades, the tearing and breaking, was still too fresh in my