Death

Book Five of the
Devil's Roses

A novel by Tara Brown

Copyright 2012 Tara Brown

http://TaraBrown22.blogspot.com

Amazon Edition

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No alteration of content is permitted. This book is a work of fiction, any
similarities are coincidental. This book contains materials not suited for
people under the age of 18. All characters in this fictional story are based
entirely on the crazed mind of the author and are not based of any human. Any
similarities are by chance and not intentional.

This book is dedicated to my fans, thank you so much,
the interest and support has been amazing. I also must thank my husband and
children. You supported me even when I was in my writer’s frenzy.

Cover Art by Sweet N Spicy Designs

I have enjoyed writing this series and hope you’ve
enjoyed reading it as much.

Thank You Nick J (sexiest Proof Reader ever)

A special thanks to The Nators. Thank you all. Best
E-Friends an E-Girl could have!!!

Other books by Tara Brown

Cursed, Book One of the Devil’s Roses

Bane, Book Two of the Devil’s Roses

Hyde, Book Three of the Devil’s Roses

Witch, Book Four of the Devil's Roses

Born, Book One of The Born Trilogy

The Light of the World, The Light Series

A New Dawn- A Short Story

Vengeance, The Blood Trail Chronicles

Portland, Oregon 2012

Aimee

The heels of my boots click with every strike against the cold
soaked cement. The dank night air creeps in through my thin sweater. I shiver
and wrap my arms around myself and try to keep up with his pace.

I round the corner, staying across the street from him. I
don't want him to get too far ahead of me. The street is crowded enough that if
I wink people will notice. His outdated pleather jacket makes it easy to keep
him in my sights. I roll my eyes and snort. No one but an immortal would be caught
dead wearing pleather.

He turns down a dark alley. I grimace and wonder if perhaps he
is looking for his next victim. He doesn't glance behind himself. He's
overconfident. They always are. His kind always believes they are the strongest
animals in the urban jungle. Most of them don’t know about me. The ones that
have actually met me are usually in the throws of their own death.
Introductions seem like a waste at that point. As usual, his instincts lie to
him and allow for a false sense of security. He just doesn't know it yet.



I finger the platinum ring on my right middle finger with my
thumb. I have always loved the thin red line running through the middle of it
to the red rose. The ring is my mark. It is my badge. It permits me to follow
the man. It makes my brand of deadly force acceptable.

I wink my right eye, flashing in front of him. 
I smirk
at the flash of confusion in his eyes and grab his arm. He struggles for a
second but I lift him into the air, before he has a chance to change into a worthy
adversary. I shudder and gasp when my hands make contact with the warm fleshy
meat of his throat.

The sparks fill me and the air around us. The touch of his
skin makes every moment magnify, as my senses heighten from the feast.

He chokes and fights, but it's useless.

His eyes catch the ring on my finger, recognition and fear
spreads across his face.

"You're a Rose." He croaks. 


His last words.

“Stop!” A man's voice echoes through the alley.

The fire of the spark dies, taking my meal with it.

I growl and drop the dead man to the cold ground.

I hate ending my meal that way. I lick my lips, wondering if
my eyes still glow like molten steel. I have to admit, I think it looks cool.
The man in the alley probably won't.

I glance down the alley to where a policeman stands with his
gun drawn. I laugh inside at the way his hands shake with the sizable gun in
them.

“Stay where you are.” His voice never wavers, but I can sense
the fear coming off him. I realize suddenly his voice is familiar. Panic fills
me.

I look around for an exit as his steps fill the silent alley.
He squints, no doubt from the confusion over my still glowing eyes.

I smile, raising my hands, hoping to stop him in his tracks.
“Run his prints and you’ll thank me.”

He continues to walk toward me cautiously, assessing the alley
and the danger. “Get down on the ground.” He waves the gun slowly. I grimace
and bite my lip. I could steal his gun and knock him out.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. “Really, would you lie
on this street? This alley is filthy with germs and God only knows what else.”
I try to be funny. He's going to recognize me any second.

A gust of wind blows past him, bringing with it a scent like
laundry soap and deodorant. It's the subtle mix of windblown sea air that makes
me feel sick. I blink forcing a tear to slip from my eye.

I gulp and push down my feelings. I love Aleks, he is the
right choice. There is no doubt about that.

He looks at me in disbelief. “You, you’re the one? That's not
possible.”

I can see the raw emotion on his face. His lower lip trembles.

I take a step back, putting my hands out further. “Shane, just
pretend you never saw me. The medics will say heart attack.”

He shakes his head. “No, not you.” His face twists in pain.
“Anyone but you. Why?”

I blink as the memories of every second of our time together
crams into my brain.

Every touch.

Every smile.

I look down and swallow. “I have to eat, they make sense.”

He looks disgusted. “You’re eating them? How? They have no
marks. None of the others had marks.”

I let the moment of shame fill me. I make myself remember his
face the times I'd broken up with him. Broken him. I force myself to feel it
all. I deserve to suffer.

I know deep down if I let myself look I will find the girl
that wants to sit on the back steps of his house, listening to his dreams.

Instead I turn and jump onto the handrail of the stairs next
to me. I climb the fire escape as fast as I can. I can't wink. I'm feeling sick
and I can't possibly scare him like that.

I can still smell his fear but it has switched, it's a
different kind of fear. It's emotional. I would know that smell anywhere.

The damp night air fills with his screams. I feel tears
rolling down my cheeks as I try to block his desperate screams that consist of
one word, my name.

I sit on the roof and rock back and forth and all I hear is,
"AIMEE!"

I put my hand up to the old door and take a breath.

"Just come in, you pain in the arse."

I smile and open the door. His black eyes are mocking me. I
can see it all over his face.

"I need your help," I mutter and close the door to
his house.

He smirks and crosses his arms. His sarcastic shit-eating grin
pisses me off, but it doesn’t change things. I need him.

Dorian strolls across the hardwood floor silently in his sock feet
and leans against the marble counter. "Tell me everything, love." His
tight dark jeans and tucked in pale blue shirt make him look more European. The
worn brown leather jacket slung over the back of the chair next to him is his
attempt at badass American. I would roll my eyes at him but I can't. I need
him.

He smiles and my sex drive kicks into gear. His affect on me
is beyond annoying.

"Do you need me to help in anything that would require me
taking my shirt off? Or yours?"

I shiver and fight my rage. "I could kill you
Dorian."

He holds his hands up. "It's why I've maintained my
efforts to get into your pants. I think it would be quite the ride."

I scowl.

He chuckles and his accent gets thicker, "My pet, you
really are in a jam this time aren’t you? You've got some desperation, just,
right there on your cheek." He brushes a finger against my face.

I flinch away from him. "This was a mistake." I turn
to leave but he grabs me and swings me into his embrace.

He forces his lips on mine.

My fingers tingle, but I push it back. I need him alive. I
shove him, but his grip is intense. He drives his tongue into my mouth. The
sweet and perverse taste of him makes my legs quiver. He lets me go and I swear
I see stars for the smallest moment.

"That is how you should be kissed," his words are a
dark whisper, threatening me with more. My body wants to agree with him. I
can't hate him, not the way I used to. I'm not even convinced I ever could.

I cover my face and breathe. "If I ask you to do
something and not tell Aleks will you?"

He laughs. "That's all you have to say after a kiss like
that?"

I maintain my composure.

He rolls his eyes and nods, "Go on then, although for the
record I did just do something I won't tell Aleks about. Now if you want a
favor, I want one too."

I remove my hands and attempt a disgusted look. He flashes a
grin and walks by me, nudging me. He grabs a bottle of wine from the huge rack
and uncorks it slowly, as if he's debating.

I wish I could hate him, most of the time. The rest of the
time I have an inner conflict over why it is I want to rip his clothes off and
lick his naked body.

He smirks. "Are you thinking naughty thoughts about
me?" I do love the way he says naughty.

I growl, hoping anger will make my red face convincing,
"Can you?"

He nods and pours the whole bottle into a crystal carafe. He
swirls it over and over. He's making me wait on purpose. He walks around to the
cupboard and pulls out two large glasses. They're the size of crystal fish
bowls. "Well go on with it. What is it?" His dark eyes sparkle.
"Before I agree and all."

"I've messed up. I need you to wipe Shane's memory,
again."

He laughs. It's bitter and sarcastic, like his soul. "Oh
Aimee, you really have the most intense feelings for that boy? Don’t you?"

I clench my jaw. My hands tingle.

He glances at my hands and growls. "Keep it in your
pants, love."

I rub my hands on my jeans and take deep breaths. "It
isn’t whether I love him or not. It's who's right for me and who I won't
kill."

He pours me a glass of wine and hands it to me. "If he
wasn't human, who would you pick?"

I suck in my breath and shake my head. "Not playing that
game Dorian. I made my choice. I don’t regret it. I love Aleks." My eyes
are welling and my hands tremble when I tilt the glass back. I drink the room
temperature spiced wine in gulps. I wipe my mouth and bite my lip to stop
myself from saying anything else.

"Do you ever wonder how much of your love for Aleks is
his spell?" His grin tells me he knows the answer to the question.

I sip the wine and watch him.

He drinks a large sip and nods. "I want you, Aimee. There
is no denying it. I wanted you from the minute I frightened you in the
elevator. I had to make certain you were good and scared of me." His eyes
flash to my hands. "Didn’t want you thinking you could do anything with
what I had given you."

I sip, taking it all in. "You hurt me and scared me on
purpose?"

He laughs. "You’re smarter than that. You know I did.
Now, if I can't have you the way I want you." He adjusts himself and
smirks at my disgusted face. "Then I want to know the answer to the
question of who? If the little bobby were immortal, would you choose him or
Aleks? Or would you rather I start taking my pants off?"

I laugh, "I don't have an answer to that question, but
keep your pants on in case one comes."

"I'm going to ask for something else in a minute and I'm
certain you won't want to give it to me." He leans in. The smell of him
makes my mouth water.

"I wouldn’t take his humanity from him." I say it
matter of fact.

He rolls his eyes. "Humanity shimanity."

"I need you to take his memories again. He saw me eating
today in an alley."

His eyes widen. "Tsk tsk tsk. Although, for all the
things I had rolling around in my naughty mind, that really is sort of lame. I
imagined you had been unfaithful or something delicious like that." He
looks at his fat leather watch. "There is still plenty of time you know.
To be unfaithful."

My phone vibrates, just in the nick of time.

His phone is already in his hands. "Oh dear."

I pull out my phone and see what he's talking about.
"Frig," I whisper.

"My sentiments exactly." He puts a hand out.
"Shall we travel together?"

I'm gone before he has the chance to touch me again.

My heels click against the cold cement. The rainwater makes the sound
echo between the narrow buildings. The cover of dark hides her from me, but
really nothing can hide from me. Not her. Not anyone. Not even me.

The cold air helps me shake off the feeling of Dorian all over me. I need
to kill him. I feel sick knowing I let him kiss me. I didn’t fight him the way
I could have. I never do.

I force my thoughts back to the task at hand. I don’t know if it's
another trap. I don’t even care anymore. I don't watch my back, ever. I don’t
look around me. I've become the same as the cocky immortal I mocked only an
hour before.

Death means so little to me. Some days it means freedom and others it
means food and if I'm really lucky, sometimes it means revenge. Either way, I
can't seem to care for the deaths that surround me. The only death I seem to care
about is the one I can't have. My own.

I round a corner and the smell of it is the first thing that hits me in
the face. It's sex and raw lust mixed with a little blood.

She's here. She's in the alley with me. She's feeding.

I swallow and play with the platinum ring around my finger. I twirl it
with my thumb. I don’t want to kill her but I don’t know what to do about her.

I don't change the way I walk. I let my heels click against the cold
cement. I let the sound of me fill the alley. She won't hear me. I know this.
We feed the same. In the beginning I saw nothing but the meal. In the beginning
I was obsessed with the meal. I never think on that time. I can't let myself.
It destroys the last few good things inside of me to let the bad ones take
over.

Wind blows past me, warm wind. My skin shivers. "Aleks," I
whisper. The feeling of him in the alley is all I need. I forget about Dorian
and Shane and remember where my heart is, and who it belongs to.

I know he is with the others, lining the rooftop above. I can only hope
they will stay away and let me handle it.

She is mine. Mine in fault and responsibility.

My fingers spark flashes of light that reveal the things I wouldn’t
normally be able to see. A ladder against an old brick wall. The glint of a
silver garbage can. A pair of men's leather dress shoes, twitching on the
ground.

In the flashes of light I can see her face. It's more beautiful than
anything in the world. She snarls at me like a wild animal. Her fingers pull at
him. He is well dressed. He will be missed by someone. A family perhaps.

She has done it again. Blood coats her beautiful lips.

"Oliver." I barely finish whispering his name and he is beside
me. His warm arm brushes against mine.

"He is dying, Aimee. Just do it." His voice is broken. Like my
heart. We all feel sick for what we have done to her.

He reaches a hand for her arm but she snarls and pulls away. She holds
the dying man in her arms, like a child holding a doll. Her tragically
beautiful face is much altered from the face I have grown to love.

Oliver takes no nonsense off of her. He reaches in and grabs her thin
arm. He shakes her free of the dying man in the suit. She is gone before the
man in the suit hits the ground. I bend down next to him. I wrap my fingers
around his bare wrist and let go of the control I hold so tightly.

The cool air sparkles with life and light, his life and light. I gasp
pulling him in. He fills the tiny void where my hunger sits. I haven’t eaten
this much since Lydia found me and locked me in that room to eat. His life is
separated from him and I let him fall back onto the cold wet concrete. He will
be a tragedy of the city. I slip his watch from his other wrist and take his
wallet from the rumpled pants that feel suddenly loose. His soul took up more
space than he would have ever realized.

I turn and look up into the night's sky. Atop the buildings I see their
eyes, watching me. I can't stop my eyes from looking for his. His beautiful
white blue eyes. He doesn’t smile or even try to. He knows about Dorian. He
knows me better than anyone. He glares and then he's is gone.

I watch as the other eyes vanish one at a time.

The last face I see is Dorian's. He stands where Aleks had been.
"It's done. Now you owe me and I will collect."

I flinch. "Thanks."

"He was a mess. Wandering the city in uniform. I took him home and
told him to go have some fun, he needed it. I told him to take one of the girls
he used to date and have a blast." He grins. "See you later."
His voice is filled with promise. I shiver and wink. I try to ignore the regret
that has me more full than my meal.

Lydia's kitchen table feels small with the group that is there. Missing
Sam and the kids has become a fulltime job.

Our silence is heavy and painful in the house. It almost always means
someone has died or lost control of what they are.

"
Where is she
?"
Lorri storms into the room. Her blood red boots slap the floor.

Lydia shakes her head. "You have no right to do that here, Lorri.
You may not take her from my home."

Lorri scowls. "Don’t tell me what I can and cannot do. This mess has
to be cleaned up." Her harsh eyes land on mine. "You know the
rules."

I nod. I have no defense beyond my love of her.

I have no defense beyond my blame in it all.

Lorri's manicured finger is in my face suddenly. "You fix this. You
have two weeks. Tristan and Ophelia and Giselle are all running out of
time."

She is gone.

Lydia's eyes are on me. I can feel them.

I glance back. "I'll go talk to her."

Lydia shakes her head. "No. Leave her be. She needs to calm down.
Annabelle will take care of…"

I wink out before she finishes the sentence. I choose home instead of
him.

I wander town, looking in the windows of the houses. The lights inside
show everything. The love and warmth they all have. The normalcy that exists in
a place like this cuts me like a tiny knife. All I see is a place something
like me won't ever be part of. I get lost in the clicking of my boots and when
I look up I am in front of my house.

I instantly feel like I did the first week I was changing. I could feel
the changes but had nowhere to go. Everything has changed and I still feel like
I have nowhere to go.

I can see shadows moving around inside. My father and sister are there in
the house.

I walk up to the front lawn just as the door opens.

I freeze.

"Love you too, Daddy." Alise steps out of the door. A group of
people follows her out of the house. The last person closes the door.

"He seems better hey?" A voice cuts into me. I can't flash. I
can't breathe. I am a lawn ornament.

"Aims?" His voice still hurts me.

I look at them walking down the stairs. Blake and Alise are hand in hand.
Behind them walk Shane and Jessica Morgan, holding hands. She was his
girlfriend before Alise and him dated. Before he and I dated. Before. She must
be the girl he remembers dating that Dorian told him to go find to have fun
with.

I remember watching them together. I had always wished I were her. I
wished I were popular Jessica Morgan, holding hands with Shane. Watching him
play football. Before, when I thought he was the love of my life. Seeing him, I
have to convince myself he isn’t.

Now I am the only one who remembers we dated. I am the only one who
remembers anything. Well, Blake and me. I smile awkwardly. "Hey."

They're dating again.

Jessica is dating Shane again.

I have to keep repeating it to believe it.

Maybe she's the girl in O's vision.

The girl he's happy with.

Alise points to the house. "Careful, he has a cold." She looks
around. "How did you get here?"

I am frozen still. "I walked." Blake laughs.

"From college? Dude." She rolls her eyes.