Broken (The Voodoo Revival Series Book 3) Page 6

  Losing him wasn’t an option, but she couldn’t deny her desire for him. He took another step forward and didn’t stop until he crowded himself into her personal space. Angie backed up as he marched forward, but after a few paces, she ran out of room. Her back was flush against the wall and she had nowhere to run.

  Arlen was a man on a mission, each stride held purpose. His heated gaze raked over her, settling on the cleavage peaking out from her tank top.

  “Are you afraid?” he asked huskily.

  “Yes,” Angie whimpered.

  “Of me?”

  Angie shook her head.

  It wasn’t him that she was afraid of, never him. It was the possible consequences that had her quivering against the wall.

  “Good.”

  Arlen didn’t give her a chance to second guess anything as he swooped in and pressed his lips to hers. The kiss was sweet and gentle at first, but turned urgent and demanding with each tiny movement. Angie nearly came undone when he wrapped his arms around her and swept his tongue against the seam of her lips. He was all strength, muscles, and man, as he pushed all her right buttons. He knew how to work her body without needing direction.

  She needed no further prodding as she responded to him. Her lips parted, allowing him entrance. Arlen’s hands travelled down the length of her torso to grip her hips and pull her into him. He ground his thick manhood against her belly, forcing Angie to take notice.

  She was impressed. He had the hardware and seemed to know how to use it very well. His lips left hers and wandered down her neck to the junction between her neck and shoulder. She mewled as he licked and sucked in all the right places. The tiny noises of pleasure only fueled the fire that was raging in Arlen’s eyes.

  Angie had succumbed to the heavy fog of desire and couldn’t think of her reasons for why rushing into bed was a bad idea. The need for more of the man was overwhelming and the only thing she was focused on.

  Arlen tore his lips from hers and stumbled back several steps, allowing the haze to dissipate. Slowly, Angie came back to her senses and heat crept up her neck. Angie was afraid of the disappointment she might see in Arlen’s eyes. He probably thought she was easy and would use her before dumping her. She wasn’t the type that guys took home to meet their mothers.

  She couldn’t bring herself to meet his eyes.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have had more control,” he said, his muscles strained against his shirt as he regained his self control. Arlen’s arousal had become quite evident, but so had his shame.

  Angie felt sick. There was the tell-tale sign of regret written in his features that foretold the end between them. That look was the kiss of death and her mind reeled at the idea of them being over before they ever got a chance to begin.

  “It’s okay. My fault…” Angie crossed her arms in front of her chest and wanted nothing more than to hide away in the sanctuary of the bedroom.

  The pair were silent for a moment before Arlen cleared his throat and Angie was sure hers was about to close up.

  “Angie…” Arlen started.

  “I’m, uh, tired. So, I’m going to head to bed. Night.”

  She hurried, skirting past him and heading towards the room. She grabbed ahold of the door and turned to shut it. She caught a glimpse of Arlen, who hadn’t moved from his spot in the living room, but instead just turned and watched her as she went. His eyes were swimming with longing and sadness.

  The door clicked shut and she turned and leaned back against the frame. As soon as she was closed off and out of view, her eyes began to mist. Pressure grew within her throat as she fought to keep her composure and ward off the threatening tears. What was wrong with her? She finally met a guy who she could envision more with and at the drop of a hat, she’d throwing caution to the wind and practically mounting him.

  Pressure grew at the back of Angie’s head and she shuffled towards of bed. She only made it a couple steps before she froze at the images racing in front of her.

  Far off screams drew up the hair on the back of her neck. Blood spattered the walls and pooled along the marble floors.

  It was no longer Arlen’s bedroom. Shit. It was happening again.

  ***

  Panic forced her heart to pound within her chest. She wanted no part of the terror that was being played out before her eyes. She no longer had control over her movements; she was just a witness.

  Guttural screams tore through the space and she tried to squeeze her eyes shut, not wanting to see the terror, but was unable to. The small sitting space opened into a great hall and there was where Angie found the source of the cries.

  A young man was chained to the marble with his forehead against the floor and curled into a tight ball. Blood coated the ground surrounding him, but it wasn’t his. At least, not all of it. A girl, no more than fourteen, lay before him, lifeless. The open wound just below her sternum told Angie her death had absolutely not been accidental.

  Several feet away, a man paced seeming manic and completely out of his head. He was muttering unintelligibly to himself. There was a white metal crown perched proudly upon his head. His hair was as black as a Raven’s wing and braided, which reached to his lower back.

  Something about him was familiar to Angie. Although, she couldn’t tell exactly what it was.

  Angie’s eyes scanned the room and noticed two ornately carved chairs perched upon a dais. Deep green fabric peaked out from behind one of the chairs and without needing to investigate further, she knew it was another body. She wondered what had happened, though she didn’t want to see anymore of the gruesome vision that had captured her.

  “Wake up,” she whispered to herself while pinching her arm. It hurt, but it didn’t stop the floaty feeling she got when the scenes overtook her. She was stuck until it ended on its own.

  The sobs from the man on the floor had ceased, yet his shoulders still shook from his silent pain. Angie noticed his wrists were angry and raw like they’d been burned. She could even smell burning flesh.

  The man, who she could only assume was a king, continued on his maniacal patrol which was interspersed with miniscule twitches that could only be seen by a close observer. There was something wrong with him.

  Angie moved behind the man kneeling on the ground, never catching a glimpse of his face.

  “You’re a monster,” the man whispered. “You better kill me too because I’ll kill you if you don’t.” His tone was cold and hateful. Angie knew the man meant every word.

  The king paid him no attention and his muttering grew louder as he became more agitated.

  Shoes clicked against the stone of the hall leading into the throne room. Hearing the coming visitors, the ruler swiftly moved and slammed the doors shut, barring them from entering.

  “They’re going to take the throne… must kill them. They want you dead,” His Majesty chattered away as he stalked towards the man on the ground. He was out of his mind, that much was clear.

  He drew his dagger from his hip and approached his chained captive, his intentions clear. Angie wanted nothing more than to close her eyes, but it wasn’t that easy. She had to watch.

  The ruler raised his weapon high and just as it began its descent, the vision dissipated and the bedroom came back into focus.

  ***

  Tears slipped freely down her cheeks and her limbs trembled with fear and pent up energy. She slid to the floor slowly wishing things had turned out differently.

  She’d never tell anyone aloud, but it wasn’t the first time since her kidnapping that she’d wished she hadn’t made it out alive. It had to be better than the near constant trauma the visions brought on. She didn’t want to live the rest of her life witnessing the worst that the world had to offer.

  Angie pushed her thoughts away and wrapped her arms around herself. Her insides felt like they wanted to run in every different direction. She was going to be sick.

  Angie scrambled to her feet and staggered towards the connected bathroom, just in time to emp
ty the contents of her stomach. It wasn’t elegant, but she wasn’t trying to impress anyone either by being ladylike about it.

  Chapter 10

  Arlen

  Being Fae had its perks, like enhanced hearing.

  Arlen was poised outside of his bedroom door, unable to force himself away from the spot. He had to know whether she was okay or not. She was silent, not moving for a long while and then he heard it. The telltale sound of tiny sniffles.

  He’d made her cry. Arlen was sure he was shit at being that person for anyone let alone the woman of his dreams. What did that say about him? He was only a week into their cohabitation and already he had her in tears.

  With a small thud, he could hear Angie sit roughly on the floor. She needed him and the knotted, nauseous feeling growing in his chest wouldn’t ease until she was okay again.

  “Angie?” He waited for her to answer, but the sniffling and ragged inhales didn’t waver. “Are you alright?”

  She stubbornly ignored him, something he couldn’t abide. So, he grabbed ahold of the handle and pushed the door open slowly, in case she was sitting too close.

  Angela was a mess. Moisture rimmed her red, puffy eyes and her nose had taken to resembling a cherry tomato. He’d heard her get sick, but none of that bothered him. She looked so damn beautiful even as she was falling apart that it was impossible for him to steel his heart against the siege that was Angela.

  He sat down next to her and pulled her into his lap. She didn’t resist as he lent her the comfort only he could give. Knowing that his time was running out only made him want to savor every second he had with her.

  “What happened? What did I do wrong?” he asked, afraid that her answer would be more than he could handle. He tried not to care, but being rejected by his mate would be the end of him.

  She shook her head. “Nothing. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be such a fucking mess.”

  He could hear the change in her voice as she spoke the lie. Above all else, Arlen couldn’t believe that she was actually apologizing to him. How had such a wonderful being become so twisted and ashamed? He tramped down the flame of revenge for the time being. She needed more than him to kick the shit out of everyone who had hurt her. She needed a shoulder to cry on. His shoulder, to be exact.

  “You’ve done nothing wrong and you don’t have to lie to me. What happened?”

  She wiped her cheek on her shoulder and brushed away the moisture from her other cheek. “You’ll think I’m crazy.”

  He cracked the faintest grin, “I promise I could never think you’re crazy. Trust me, I’ve seen crazy. The real kind. The ugly kind and that’s not you. I want your trust and your honesty, not your fear and tears.” He pushed her chin up so she could look into his eyes and know how serious he was.

  “Your eyes are beautiful. Just like amethyst.” She stared at him with eyes full of wonder like it was the first time she’d noticed the strange coloring.

  “And you’re changing the subject.”

  She sighed and her shoulders slumped slightly. “I had another vision.”

  It was well outside of his realm of expertise, but he wanted to ease her mind any way he could.

  “What kind of vision?” he asked.

  Angela rubbed at her arms as if she were cold. “They’re always different, and somehow, the same.” Her voice was low, just barely above a whisper.

  “What do you see when this happens?” Arlen probed.

  Maybe he could find a way to help her and ease the toll it was taking on her. She was so visibly shaken by what had occurred that he had to wonder if it was because of what had happened to her in captivity.

  “It’s always death and destruction, but its never the same scene twice. Sometimes, the people I see are wearing old clothes like they’re in the past and other times it seems like it’s happening right now.”

  Angela had a far off glaze to her eyes and Arlen knew she was replaying the whole thing in her head.

  “When did they begin?”

  She inhaled a shaky breath and didn’t answer him right away. He would sit and not ask again until she was ready to answer him. Her lip quivered, but she didn’t break down. She was a tough woman and so strong. She had to be to live through everything she had. Her blue eyes turned to his.

  “It started after they took me. After they did…things.” She let her voice trail off as she became lost in her thoughts again.

  “It’s okay, you don’t have to tell me,” he assured her. He knew how it felt to have demons waiting at his back for signs of weakness.

  He’d known pain, the kind most didn’t live through.

  Arlen sat there with her while she remained miserable and statuesque. She needed a break from her life, something that would just make her happy.

  He began to think of things she’d like. Arlen knew very little about his mate and Maya wasn’t around to ask. He’d done a small amount of research and learned the essentials like where she had lived and worked before she’d been kidnapped.

  She’d been listed as a missing person by her boss at Delmonico. Taking her somewhere like that for dinner would be out of the question. It was best for all involved if Angela stayed a missing person. He needed something meaningful and low key.

  Her previous place of employment kept nagging at him though. Maybe if he couldn’t take her out on a proper date, he could bring the restaurant to her? The wheels in his head began to turn, pulling a tentative plan together that he sincerely hoped she’d love it. It might have been the only such date they’d ever get.

  Chapter 11

  Angie

  Her companion had been planning something, but he wouldn’t give her the slightest hint as to what it could be. Butterflies had morphed into pterodactyls which were swooping madly in her gut. If he was with her, she knew he’d keep her safe from the insidious things who wanted to hurt her. Her heart on the other hand, wasn’t as safe.

  Arlen entwined his fingers with hers and gave her a gentle tug. She followed without resisting. Arlen’s eyes danced with excitement and his happiness was hopelessly contagious.

  Swinging the apartment door open, he led her into the hall and even held the door for her. Color her impressed. No man had ever done something so sweet for her. She’d grown up way too used to dating douchebags. She was a magnet to boys who wouldn’t even pay for her portion of a meal, so the small gestures were almost enough to make her misty eyed.

  “Where are you taking me?”

  “You’ll see,” he said with a wink.

  Their footsteps echoed down the long hall. They made their way towards the stairwell. Arlen pushed the door open and held it as he waited for Angie to pass through. She couldn’t help feeling a bit giddy. And she was absolutely considering the tiny trip a date. He was into her if his past actions were any indication…and her feelings for him were growing by the hour.

  Angie was falling hard and fast, yet it was different from anything she’d experienced before. It just felt right.

  She didn’t ask where he was taking her again. She was okay with letting him have the moment.

  Arlen followed her into the stairwell and slipped in front of her. He mounted the steps, taking them two at a time. She scrambled after him with unsure footing as he tugged her along. His legs were so much longer than hers that she had a hard time keeping up with his pace.

  Halfway up, she came down wrong and her foot slipped off the step. Arlen caught her with her face mere inches from destruction.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, helping her back upright.

  She nodded, shocked into silence by his speed.

  “I’m sorry. I forget sometimes that I need to slow down with you.”

  She got the distinct impression he was talking about more than just running up the stairs, though he didn’t elaborate further.

  He swung the door open and ushered her out onto the rooftop. Angie froze when her eyes landed on the surprise he had waiting.

  A small two-person table was set with a picni
c basket waiting to be explored. Her lips parted as her jaw slackened and she swung around to look at most incredible man she’d ever met.

  “You did all of this?” she squeaked.

  He nodded. “Dinner isn’t even the best part. I thought you might appreciate the view.” Arlen tipped his chin towards the ledge of the building.

  Angie was hesitant, despite wanting to see it. She was afraid of height and even more afraid of admitting it to Arlen. He seemed so fearless and unshakable and she was afraid of everything, even her own shadow.

  “Do you not like it?” he asked. His expression was unreadable but she was sure she’d witnessed a small glimmer of disappointment before he slipped his stoic mask back into place.

  “Yes!” she rushed out. “It’s just…it’s wonderful,” Angie corrected herself before she could confess to her phobia and shit on all his hard work and efforts.

  Angie shuffled forward, taking tiny steps as she went. Nearly ten feet from the table, she saw the view he had mentioned and she stopped.

  His building was tall enough that it had an unobstructed view of the river and Algiers Point. The cityscape shimmered with lights from homes and businesses. It really was a city that never slept. The breeze carried the earthy scent of the muddy Mississippi River and the coming rain.

  It wouldn’t be long before the skies opened, but she prayed it was long enough for them to enjoy their evening.

  “Woah.” She sighed, awed by the stunning view.

  “So, you like it then?” He sounded hopeful as he stepped up next to her.

  Arlen straightened, looking regal and ethereal as his violet locks caught the light just right. He was a magnificent specimen of a man and Angie found herself studying his features as if she’d never seen him before.

  The corner of his mouth upturned slightly; he’d caught her gawking like a prepubescent girl with her first crush. Angie looked away quickly, hoping he didn’t think she was a creeper. Her cheeks heated with the rising blush. Thank God it was dark out.