Pure & Sinful (Pure Souls) - By Killian McRae Page 0,16
and her away. They emerged on the other side in a room that put a definition to the term “Goth Brady Bunch.” Blood-red paisley was the new black, and windows covered over in crimson crushed velvet curtains formed a public housing block for a nation of moths. They were alone, as best she could tell, though an undercurrent of chatter still filled the soundscape. Riona turned to the priest, and without another speck of hesitation, threw herself into his embrace.
“I was so scared you wouldn’t come,” she admitted as her grip tightened about him.
“I’ll always come for you, Riona,” he assured her, stroking her hair. “I’ll always do what’s right by you.”
And she believed him.
Until the dagger bit into her flesh.
Looking down, the pain the blade caused as he withdrew it from her gullet was nothing in comparison with that in her heart. She’d been fooled into believing him, believing that he could really change, believing that he might really care.
A scream shattered the night.
Riona fell off the couch, arms flailing. Cold sweat brought shivers. Her hand raced down to her stomach as she searched for the evidence of the wound. Clean fingertips alerted her to the truth. Working to slow her erratic breathing and come to, she realized it was a dream. A terrible, horrible dream.
But damn, even for the split second that Marc held her, how perfect it felt being in his arms.
The pounding on the door nearly did her in a second time. Her pulse spiked more than a high school kid near the punch bowl at prom. The clock on the wall claimed it was three a.m., and common sense told her it was much too late for anyone she knew to just casually stop by. Whoever it was wasn’t there to sell cookies, either.
“Hello?” The owner of the unfamiliar voice behind her door called out as she continued to bash the door loud enough to wake the dead. “Hello? I heard screaming. Is everything okay in there?”
Shit, the new neighbor. What a time for introductions. Riona knew that someone had finally rented the apartment across the hall and moved in a few days ago, but she was too busy prepping for the demon bust with workouts at the gym Dee owned to say hello. What a great impression she was going to make, sweaty and gasping and looking like she’d just been through hell!
Resolving to answer the door, and assure her neighbor that despite the midnight operatic performance, she was perfectly fine, then try to settle back down, Riona crawled over the floor before doing a gangly-walk across the room. Another round of pounding hastened her steps.
“Just a second,” she mumbled beneath her breath. As she turned the knob, Riona preempted her Good Samaritan’s inquiries by letting out a long stream of don’t-even-go-theres. “Hi, I’m sorry if I woke you up. Bad day, bad dream. I really usually don’t wail in the night and… I … didn’t want…Um…”
Why talk when you could gawk? If Riona had known that this is what the new neighbor looked like, she would have volunteered to be the head organizer of the Welcome Wagon.
The half-concerned, half-amused woman matched her in height perfectly. She wasn’t nude (sigh), but the little, purple-silk-and-lace nightie she barely wore would have gotten her arrested in some states for public indecency. It perfectly complimented a pair of violet eyes that beamed concern, and a blue-black head of hair, cut in a fashion that said “don’t fuck with me.” Riona was unable to stop her eyes from lingering on the unholy curves that a drop of water would pay good money to trail down slowly, but seeing the smirk on her well-intentioned neighbor’s face when her gaze returned skyward, she had not failed to take notice, but was in no way embarrassed by the attention or insinuation.
“Hi.” Oh, and a voice that was a perfect marriage of music and smoke. “I, um… I didn’t mean to introduce myself this way, but I heard screaming and I just wanted to make sure that everything’s okay over here. Did anything happen?” The neighbor’s eyes circumnavigated Riona, while inspecting the apartment behind her.
Riona blushed, or at least, might have if her face wasn’t already red from all the excitement. “Oh, my God. No, I’m so alone. Sorry! I mean, I’m sorry. I’m fine. It was just a bad dream. A really, really bad dream. If I woke you up, I’m...”
“No, no. That’s cool. It happens. Just thought, you know, better