Darkness Brutal (The Dark Cycle Book 1) (34 page)

FORTY-FOUR

Kara chases after me as I leave the room. “Aidan, please, think about this.”

“If there’s still a chance to save her, I have to take it.”

She catches up to me as I stop in front of Sid’s door. There’s no way I’m sleeping in a room with any of the other boys. I need to be alone.

“They’ll kill you!”

I slip the key card in, and the latch clicks. I open the door. “That doesn’t matter anymore.” I walk into the dark room and toss the key on the TV table.

She comes at me, letting the door slam behind her. “Doesn’t matter? Are you kidding me?”

“I promised my mom that I would protect her!” It turns out that I was supposed to protect Ava from what was
inside
her heart more than what was chasing after her, but that doesn’t change my commitment to my promise.

“And how about what you said out there in the street, huh?” she says. “
I need you, Kara—
what the hell was that?” Her voice cracks, but her expression is all fire and indignation.

I move closer. “Kara—”

She glares at me and steps back. “Don’t you dare act like you can have it both ways. I’m a part of this now too, you know. Whatever happened between us, it’s
done
something to me. And you’re ready to just die—to rip my heart from my chest on a hope!” She chokes on her words and then releases a bitter laugh.

“God,” she says, “I wish I’d never met you—do you know how many times I’ve thought that? And you know why? Because I know how this will end. This
thing
”—she motions to the air between us—“will disappear once we’ve had sex and gotten it over with. Everything you felt for me will evaporate.”

My throat goes tight. “That’s not fair.” I do want her. And I know it’s not just because of the spell, but she obviously won’t believe me no matter what I say.

“Life isn’t fair,” she says, tears in her eyes now. “Believe me, I’m an expert at how unfair life is.” Her chest rises and falls, her sadness, her defeat, leaking from her like weighty mist.

And then she reaches down and pulls her shirt over her head.

I blink at her bare skin, her bra, confused.

She unbuttons and unzips her jeans, starts to peel them down her legs—

“Whoa, what’re you doing?” My confusion turns to panic, even as my body reacts to her standing there in her underwear: pink cotton panties and a green lace bra.

“I’m getting this over with,” she says.

“Kara, holy shit,” I say, stepping away as she moves forward, determination on her face.

She takes me by the waist of my jeans. “Come on, Aidan. Soldier up.” Then she tries to pull my shirt over my head, but I won’t raise my arms, so she moves down to my jeans again.

I whack her hand away. “Stop! What’s wrong with you?” The girl’s lost it entirely.

“It’ll be over quick, I promise.” She gives me a tight smile as she tries to unbutton my fly.

“Kara, please, this isn’t right.”

“I know. That’s what makes it so much fun.”

She reaches into my pants.

I jump back with a hiss of breath. “Stop it!” That was really not fair.

She releases a nervous giggle, then moves closer again. “Well, that part of you seems happy with the idea.”

I’m trying to back away, but I hit the wall. She presses herself against me and kisses me full on the mouth. Hot and unholy.

My breath catches, and my body reacts before I can stop it; my hands grab her, pulling her into me, fingers sliding down to her waist to grip her as she moans into my mouth.

The feel of her hits me strong, and I know I’m tumbling down, giving in, but suddenly I don’t care. I kiss her harder, trying to pour out my urgency, to rid myself of this rabid need, as her limbs cling to me, hands under my shirt, against my skin. I grab her hips and lift her up as I move to the bed and set her on it, pulling my shirt over my head, crawling over her, kissing her deeper, pressing her into the mattress. I touch her everywhere, trying to get more of her skin on mine.

My fingers find her bra, tug at it, needing to feel her, all of her. But I can’t break the connection, I can’t let go. I might stop breathing.

She slips the bra strap off for me and shivers, a tinge of fear leaking into my skin giving her away. But she doesn’t release me or pause, so I press closer and let my stomach touch hers. I wrap my hand around the back of her head, caressing her neck, and she melts again as we kiss and gasp and fall back into the oblivion of it all, the white fire of the connection, the blinding need we have for each other.

She tries to push my pants down, but I don’t want to go there yet. I shift out of reach, kissing her neck, her chest, her shoulders; I don’t want this to be over quick. And I know that as soon as her body and mine meet, it’ll be finished. I kiss my way down her body, her breasts, her belly. But as I go lower, she pulls me up, back to her lips.

Then she reaches down my pants again.

I pull back.

And that’s when I see her eyes. Glistening with tears.

“Please, Aidan,” she says, her voice full of emotion.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, hearing the impatience in my voice and wishing I didn’t.

“I just need you to take me. We can’t draw this out.”

Is she talking about sex or ripping off a Band-Aid?

“You’re really into this, I see.” Now my irritation is impossible to hide. How did I not notice her emotions? I wish I could shut my hormones off for ten minutes so I could
not
be an ass about this, but it’s like I have no control over any of it.

A tear slips down her cheek, and my stomach clenches.

“It’s fine.” She touches my bicep, but I feel her fingers shiver.

I roll onto the bed beside her. I stare at the ceiling, wishing it had a map on it that explained the female psyche. “You started it, you know.”

“I know, because I want this. I do.”

“You sure have a weird way of showing it.”

She rolls toward me, laying her head on my chest, curling against my side. “I want you so bad, Aidan. But it’s like the scars inside me won’t let me just take what I want.”

Cold awareness falls over me. How could I forget, even for a second? Now I definitely feel like an ass. I bring her closer, her skin warm against mine. The hum from our connection is like a bee in my head, distracting me.

“I’m sorry,” I say.

She kisses my chest. “I know. I thought if we just dove into the pool . . .”

“You mean the frozen lake?”

She laughs softly. “Something like that.”

I turn my head and put my lips to her hair. “I think we both knew this is how it would be.”

“I want so badly to be someone else for you,” she says. “Someone less broken.”

“Kara, you’re the one I want.”

“But you need someone strong. You need power to save your sister.”

“I wish that you could see what I see inside of you. You
are
strong. But it should’ve never been your job to fix this. That was put on you for all the wrong reasons.” I close my eyes, trying to wrap my head around what comes next and decide if I’m willing to drag her in even further. “I would be trying to save Ava either way. You know that.” I need to be there at the end of it all. I need to see the final moment when our hope dies, or I’ll never be able to rest.

“But you’ll be so vulnerable.” She runs her fingers along my torso.

I lean closer and take her lips with mine, but I pull away when the fire sparks for a second, not wanting it to control me again. Then I fold her hand in mine and kiss her fingertips. “Let’s just lie here. I want to enjoy this.” I squeeze her into my chest. “You fit so perfectly against me.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispers.

I run my palm over her soft hair. “I’m not.”

It’s quiet for a second, until she says, “You’re a pretty good kisser, you know that? You gave me Jell-O legs.”

I can’t help but grin. “Really?”

“You must practice a lot. It was like Olympic-training good.”

“Well, since it’s all I’ve ever done . . .”

She goes still for a second, then rises up to look at me. “What?”

“I’m a virgin, Kara.”

She covers her grin with her hand. “Ohmygod.”

“Howl it up, Chuckles. I had you fooled. You thought I was a player.”

She laughs again and rests her head back on my chest. “Amazing. You’re like a rare fossil.”

“That’s me. The last of my kind.”

“And to think I could’ve been the first.” She kisses my chest again. “I would’ve felt so special.”

“You are. You’re mine.” I kiss her temple, and we lie in silence, melting into each other, and then somehow we begin telling stories of what we wish our lives could’ve been until we’re kissing again, touching each other gently, resting in the space we’ve created, just the two of us. And when we feel the urgency grow, we both stop and pull the covers around us, snuggling.

She lets me touch the scars on her arms, telling me about the night she put them there. I hold her wrists, running my thumbs across the old wounds, and tell her how glad I am that she failed, how alive she made me feel that night when she kissed me after the party, and how I wish she could look inside me and feel it, too.

I decide to peel back more of my own wounds, the pieces of me I never show to anyone. Ever. But somehow I know that it’s her I’m supposed to tell. I let the whole story come, about my mom, about the things Fiona did and how they terrified me, how her sadness was like an infection. About the night when everything turned to blood as the spell was worked and the wolflike demon marked Ava and grabbed my mom by the throat before it ripped her heart from her chest. That was the moment my life became night, the moment death’s shadow became my constant companion, the moment I became a man.

Kara grips me tight, shivering.

Then silence falls. Both of us are lost in our own thoughts. I lose track of time and place as I think about the last few years and the next few. My life and my possible death.

Kara’s energy clings to me like a guard against the darkness. It’s protective and full of warmth. And as it sinks into my skin, I feel myself open up to it, as if she’s diving into me and me into her. And I’m at peace after everything; finally I’m in the right place, in the right moment, the home I’ve been searching for all this time. Love.

And I know, from this moment, I’ll never be the same again.

FORTY-FIVE

I wake up on fire.

I try to scream, but nothing comes. No air fills my lungs. Just heat and torment. I’m empty. I’m becoming ash.

“Aidan,” says a calm voice. I want to be calm; I want to escape these flames.

“Aidan, open your eyes.”

Through the pain, I hear that it’s a man’s voice. Familiar.

I manage to create a sound through the heat in my throat. “Help.” But I can’t open my eyes. I’m scared I’ll see flesh melting from my bones and that my eyes will burn up.

“Yes, you can,” the voice says, reading my thoughts. “You only have to try. Just for a moment. The pain is only in your mind, Aidan. Breathe. Just breathe.”

I struggle, wondering if the voice is right, if the fire isn’t real. But how can this torment that’s tearing me to pieces only be in my imagination?

“It’s the purification,” the voice says, “but it’s passing through you now that you’re not a part of the process any longer. You can breathe. I promise you.”

I try to push the flames away. I try to take a breath. In and out and in. I breathe.

I find air for my lungs that doesn’t singe or taste like ash. A few more breaths and the pain fades, settling to a dull ache. My eyes squint open. No fire. No ice. I’m in a hotel room. The air still.

And the memory comes back to me in a rush: Kara taking her clothes off, kissing me . . .

“You’ve been awakened,” the voice says.

I turn toward it—

“Eric,” I say.

What the hell is Eric doing in my room?

“I’m here to lead you through the awakening,” he says, reading my thoughts again. His usual expensive suit is now a plain shirt made of rough, off-white material and a pair of brown pants. His hair is several shades lighter, almost gold, and a little longer. His skin is white, and his face is scruffy from several days without a shave. There’s a scar on his jaw, running down his neck, and what appear to be burn marks on his chest at the opening of his shirt. He looks like someone from a long time ago.

I just saw him a few hours ago when we checked into the hotel, and he didn’t look at all like this. “But . . .”

“You’ve allowed the key to connect. You are returning to Origin, becoming the Bringer of Fire.”

The way Mom described me. The Assyrian tablet.

“I don’t understand,” I say, feeling like it’s suddenly hard to breathe again. “How do you know all this? What’s happening?”

“I’ve been watching over you.” He bows his head a little, like he’s trying to look submissive. “My name is Azri’el. I’m one of The Brethren.” I open my mouth, but he quickly answers the first question that pops in my head. “The Brethren are within the order of angels. We watch over earth and Creation. At times we’re charged with watching over a soul’s life here.”

“You’re an angel.”

“Not as you’re thinking of them right now. I’m a type of angel. My kind don’t fight against the demons, we only exist on this plane within humanity. In the past, you’ve called us many things: the faire folk, Sleagh Maith, or sometimes elves.”

I release a nervous laugh. “You’re a little tall to be an elf.”

“The legends have changed much over the passing of time, until my Brethren were all but forgotten. Now demons fill the tales of old. Most humans don’t realize The Brethren exist at all, choosing only to recognize the messengers of the Lord, or the archangels.”

I’ve only seen regular angels before, when I’ve seen the side of good. And now I barely see them at all.

“You have seen us,” he says, again hearing my thoughts, “but you don’t recognize us, because we live as you do, on the physical plane, and we have ways of hiding ourselves from certain kinds of humans, like you. Those angels you’ve seen exist on the same plane as the demons, warring and keeping the balance, and at times carrying the Spirit of God.”

“But they don’t keep a balance,” I say. “I’ve only seen a handful of them in my entire life. And I see demons almost every day.”

“Because angels are much more powerful than demons, and recently the soldiers have begun slipping away, going to the higher realms to prepare for the next Cycle. In this hour, in this world, it is only me and my Brethren left here to hold the front lines. And we are only keepers of Creation, not warriors.”

I shake my head, amazed and frustrated by what he’s saying. “But why? We need them!” Now more than ever.

“You were born, and it changed the balance. Demons rule here in this Cycle, so the angels had to leave as you grew and became more powerful. Now that you’ve come into your true self, they will have gone almost entirely.”

“What?” The angels are gone. How is that possible? It’s true I never see them. I always thought they were keeping a low profile. Apparently they were keeping no profile at all.

“It is the agreement. For now. You’ve been born, and the scales have shifted. Still, your birth was as HaShem willed it. You represent a formidable force on this plane with your strong connection to the Ruach Elohim. Only human, yet full of more power than the highest angel—if you can allow yourself to tap into it. This is why He sent me to you, among others.”

“
God
sent you?” Why would God choose me?

“He chooses the willing,” Eric says.

“What’ve you done with Kara?”

Eric moves to the side and motions to the bed behind him.

Kara is there, twisted in the sheet, sleeping. With her arms around me.

Me
.

I stare at myself, at Kara, her arm draped over my chest, my chin resting on her head. I look at my bare skin, so pale against hers, violet in spots, like I’ve lost oxygen. There are dark circles around my eyes. It looks like . . .

“Am I dead?” I ask, nearly choking on the question.

“Yes,” Eric says. “In a way.”

I stare at my body and see that it’s only my shell.

I’ve heard people tell stories about after they die, how it’s like they’re outside of their bodies, looking down at themselves—

“No.” This can’t be happening. This isn’t how it was supposed to be.

“It is. You must die before you can come back again. Your body must be re-created. That was the fire you felt—your soul and your spirit and your flesh being made new.”

“What the hell does that even mean? None of this is possible.”

Eric, or Azri’el, or whoever, steps over to stand at the window and gazes out at the city lights. “Your soul and spirit are with me, outside of time, while your body is being healed and brought back.”

“But Kara and I didn’t have sex!”

“Kara merely needed to touch your soul. She didn’t need to physically connect—you were all thinking too much like humans. Not all things are flesh. More is spirit than you know. Your intimacy grew over days and became fully recognized in a moment of connection.”

We connected. Intimacy didn’t mean what I assumed it meant—what we all assumed it meant.

“So I can save Ava now,” I say.

Eric tilts his head, looking sympathetic. “It is possible you can destroy the demons sent to collect her, but there is more to it than that. They desire her for a purpose. And she is not a child of Adam.”

“I know.” At least I think I do.

“You know a piece of the story.”

A bitter taste fills my mouth. “My mom was some otherworldly whore.”

“She was in pain,” he says, his brow furrowing, like he’s not happy with how I said that. “It led her to make a deal with a very powerful demon.”

“But why?”

“She wanted to see your father again, desperately. And the demon took advantage of that. It needed something from her and knew a desperate witch was a useful witch. So it told her that it would grant her wish if she would allow five men into her bed whenever they asked, until she became pregnant—this is very common.”

Common?
It’s disgusting.

“Witches will often trade sex with the demons they call up for favors. Most often the demon takes on a benign form when it becomes corporeal so the witch doesn’t realize she’s having sex with a hideous beast from her worst nightmare. Instead he or she looks like the loveliest form in the human imagination—whoever the witch wishes to see.”

“So the demons trick them.” Just the idea of what these witches were falling into bed with sends shivers through me. I’d seen hundreds of demons. None of them were remotely human looking.

“Just as your mother was tricked. And even after she agreed to what they wished, she was never able to see your father in the flesh as she wanted. The demons manipulated her and only gave her a dream of him. But she still owed her end of the deal.” He comes closer, a pleading look on his face, like he needs me to understand what my mother was going through. Why he cares about her, I have no idea. He’s an angel—aren’t they supposed to despise evil things like witches?

“But then she became pregnant,” he continues. “She knew the child wasn’t normal, and she realized what she’d agreed to—she just didn’t know how to stop it. But there was a light in her life that she hoped would prove her growing child’s salvation.” He nods toward me. “You.

“She made a plan to meet the demon who would come on the third year for her daughter—to meet it and sacrifice herself, creating a blood protection spell over her two children. What she didn’t realize was that it would only work to hide one of her children. For you, as a human, the sacrifice has kept your power invisible to the other side for the most part. It held the demons back from seeing what you truly were. It wasn’t until the night of the full moon when the demon bit you that I realized your power was about to be awakened—it had shown itself to the other side of the Veil. That was also the night your mother’s ghost returned to the beach, perhaps as a counterweight to the darkness beginning to surround her children.”

“You were the one who protected my sister on her sixth birthday, weren’t you?”

He nods. “Yes. I was the one sent to guard you. Both of you. You were both put under the same covenant when your mother sacrificed herself.”

“But isn’t Ava evil?” Saying it aloud makes me ill.

“Evil surrounds her, and she chooses to delve into its power, but no, she is not herself evil. It is what she does, not who she is.”

“I don’t understand the difference.”

“The difference is her choice.”

Hope sparks again. “So I can still save her.”

“It isn’t that simple, Aidan. She has free will.”

I squint at him, wondering if he knows more than he’s saying. “Has she already chosen darkness?”

“Not yet. That comes at the time of rebirth.”

“Tomorrow.”

“For your sister, yes.” He motions to me. “And soon you will choose as well.”

My head jerks back in surprise. “Me?”

“Yes, we all must choose. Soon you will come to your time of choice.”

“But . . . how?”

He turns to face the bed, looking down at my body. “You will awaken in a moment, a new creature, still human, but with a resurrection form—the form of Origin that was meant for all humans before The Fall. An Adam, if you will. But you will not be finished with your transformation until your power seal is broken and you make your choice. You won’t have to do anything. You’ll know when it’s time.
The demon’s energy will be what flips the switch. You’ll feel the breaking, and then you merely let it do what it wants to do.
Your heart will grab hold of the path that will decide which side you will finish on in the end.”

“What do you mean
the end
?”

“The end of all things.”

“I don’t understand.”

He moves closer. “You will. But it’s time to go now.” He reaches out like he’s about to place a finger on my head, but then he pauses. “My spirit will remain with you until you have awakened fully. Remember, you’ll know when it’s time.”

He gives me a sad smile and then touches his finger to my temple, sending white across my vision.

And I catch fire once more.