Vengeance (11 page)

What? What the ever-loving fuck?

The angel of death actually laughed at her. At her! “Oh, didn’t you know your guard here is one of Rico Cruz’s brothers?” Giving her a condescending grin, Seth actually scoffed at her. “He has eight. This one is one of the illegitimate ones, but very much a part of the inner circle. If you didn’t know, I would hazard a guess that you’ve pissed Rico off. Or perhaps he’s just here for his cousin, Father Emmanuel. But I am willing to bet, given he was the one to walk you to the door, he’s here to pay me for the contract I originally declined.”

“All of the above,” muscle man responded while she gaped at both of them, talking as if she were the underling, the hired fucking help.

May repeatedly mashed down the button in a fury. Son of a bitch! This was all a setup. And she had walked right into it. She hadn’t gotten this far by being this stupid. How had Cruz managed to get someone inside her organization? Pierre was going to pay for this shit. He was the idiot who’d found the man in the first place.

“In that case,” Seth responded nonchalantly, stepping to the side, “do come in. Oh, and May? You’re men won’t be coming to your rescue. I’m afraid your son’s men have sent them on to their eternal rest.”

Funny how the monsters of childhood looked so small and insignificant as an adult. Madam May Brown looked more like an aged doll trussed up in a chair next to the skeletal Father Emmanuel Cruz. The priest had passed out minutes before May had rung the doorbell, his face grotesquely swollen in shades of red, purple and blue. Michelene knew his chest and stomach area were probably the same shades. Azriel had given him quite the beat down, pounding the man over and over again, all without breaking a sweat or displaying any outward sign of the rage that was now evident all over the man’s disfigured face.

Michelene was surprised to find she didn’t feel anything for these two people besides disgust. Even the anger was gone in light of their current predicament. Maybe it was because she had Azriel on her side, but Michelene’s fear was gone. Neither person would ever be in a position to hurt her again. Neither would live much longer.

“Let me do this, Michie,” her brother pleaded, but handed her his prized machete nonetheless. “You don’t need to do this.”

Nothing could be further from the truth; she very much needed to do this. But how like Pierre to try to protect her when he couldn’t. He’d always tried, but never was quite able to save her. She didn’t blame him; it wasn’t as if he didn’t carry very real scars of his own.

“This is my battle.” Smiling, she stepped into her brother’s embrace. It took only a few moments before Azriel was there, gently removing her from Pierre’s hug.

It was way over protective, but it made her smile, that warmth she always got whenever he did something like this spreading all over her body.

“She’s my fucking sister,” Pierre snarled at Azriel. “I’m nothing like my parents.”

“She’s my everything,” Azriel responded calmly. “And no, you’re not, but she is still mine.”

“It’s okay.” Michelene laid a hand on her brother’s chest, but quickly removed it at Azriel’s low rumble of a growl. “Azriel is just very territorial, and I like it.”

Pierre didn’t smile back, but at least he didn’t argue. That had to be a good sign.

“The priest is mine,” Azriel announced, changing the charged atmosphere in the room to one of vengeance. Each of them there wanted it, but only she and her lover would extract it. He looked at the man who’d come in with her mother. “You can bring a part of him back to your family, but the body needs to be burned here in the house. I want him and May identified as Michelene and myself.”

The man nodded, then gestured toward May. “The contract must be fulfilled.”

How odd that Azriel had turned down the contract to kill her mother because he’d been more interested in getting to her. How ironic her mother would die with his assistance anyway.

“I told your brother no,” Azriel said. “I meant it. I won’t be the one killing May—Michelene will. You will pay her and tell your family it’s done. I trust you have the money on you?”

“I do,” the man affirmed. “As long as the bitch is dead and the fingers aren’t pointed in our direction.”

More than fingers would be pointed at the Cruz Cartel’s direction. Tough luck for them all of this would be recorded, and it would be released after some creative editing. The family was about to find themselves in a world of hurt.

“Don’t be stupid, Michelene!” May hissed, defiant to the last. Michelene supposed it was brave in a way that the woman who’d given birth to her didn’t even try to beg, wasn’t attempting to bargain her way out. Instead she was counting on familial bonds to save her. That was just too funny. Instead of struggling against her bonds, she tried to negotiate. “I have powerful friends. You and your lover will be hunted. The last four years will look like child’s play.”

“Your friends are soon to become my friends.” Pierre’s voice was positively gleeful. “And I promise, my long-lost sister and I will stop at nothing to make no stone is unturned in finding your murderer.”

The look that crossed May’s face was almost comical. Disbelief, mixed with hatred with a healthy dose of fear thrown in. Reality had slammed home; there would be no saving herself.

“I’ll haunt your fucking dreams,” May hissed. “I promise you, my spirit won’t leave you in peace.”

“You’ve haunted my dreams for far too long.” Michelene felt calm, centered. Pierre’s machete no longer felt as heavy as it first had. “It’s time I exorcised you.”

“Wait! Michel—”

One swing. It only took one. The blade cut through the front of May’s neck like a heated knife through butter, lodging in the bones in the back of her neck. May’s eyes were wide with disbelief, an expression of pure terror forever etched on her face. Michelene was going to love remembering her mother like this. Azriel had to help her work the machete out of the bone. But it was all over. Done.

“Go sit down, baby,” Azriel softly murmured, kissing her forehead. “I’ll be with you in a moment.”

There was blood on her dress. She loved this dress. There’s no way she could take it to the cleaners. What an absurd thought to have given the circumstances.

It was all so surreal. Pierre threw a sheet over their mother’s body. Did he think the sight would upset her? It didn’t. Azriel was speaking in low, hushed tones to the Cruz man, but she couldn’t make out what was being said. The man nodded, then handed her a thick manila envelope. She had no idea where it came from. Although she took it, she didn’t bother opening it. There was no way she could look away from Azriel. Transfixed by the way he moved fluidly, almost like a dance. Slapping the priest awake, he set about slicing him with a KA-BAR, each time in a place that wouldn’t kill the man. Leisurely he worked him over. When Emmanuel screamed as the knife pierced his flesh, Azriel would pause, waiting patiently until the screams subsided somewhat before starting again.

The Cruz man and Pierre simply waited, each of them watching quietly as she did. Odd how no one in the room seemed at all fazed. With each slice, Michelene felt as if Azriel was cutting out the horrors of her childhood. The blood coating the man was washing away the degradation of her recent past. It was all so cleansing.

She had no idea how much time passed, but eventually, Azriel ran out of non-lethal places to cut. Instead of putting him immediately out of his misery, Azriel stabbed into his gut, twisted the knife, then yanked it out. Stepping back he watched as Emmanuel screamed, helpless to do anything as his life slowly ebbed away. All the while there was no visible expression on Azriel’s face. He could’ve been carving a ham rather than a man.

The priest was near the end, the light in his eyes slowly fading. Still he managed to open his mouth to croak out his final statement of insanity.

“You could’ve saved me,” he babbled through the blood sputtering from his mouth. “You calmed my need for—for younger girls. Only you could cure me. Only you.”

Weird. All this time he seriously believed
she
was the cure for his sick desires?

His words, however, finally broke Azriel’s mask. His face became picture of horrific fury.

“She belongs to me!” With what had to be superhuman strength, Azriel buried his KA-BAR into the top of the man’s skull.

There was a wild beauty about this place. The jungle came right up to the edge of civilization as if threatening to reclaim all of the land. The air was heavy with the perfume of exotic flowers, a constant threat of rain and the stench of third-world humanity. Michelene loved being out on the balcony at night. Besides, she had the perfect view of the Cruz compound, specifically Rico Cruz’s study. It was fun watching the entire compound raided and looted by the Colombian army. Rico was barricaded in the study, staring at a gun in his shaking hands.

There was no way out for the poor bastard. Word was rampant he was behind the killing of Madam Brown. The brother who had actually been present at the beach house had been killed in a shootout with authorities at the Texas border, and more than thirty million in uncut cocaine had been seized. Buyers were out for blood. Underage whorehouses had been raided and closed down in four countries, all of their client lists in the hands of law enforcement
…
and newspapers. There were powerful politicians, crime bosses, millionaire sex tourists exposed by the failure of the Cruz family to guard their identities. The army was the least of Rico’s worries.

Just as Rico put the gun to his mouth, she felt Azriel’s presence behind her.

“You look sexy when you’re all smug and self-satisfied.”

Mmm, how good his arms felt around her.

“I’m finding vengeance makes me all hot and bothered.” So did feeling his lips on her neck.

The night breeze caressed her bare thighs as Azriel slowly raised her dress up over her hips. Eyes closed, she concentrated on the sensation of soft cotton sliding up her skin, the air licking her thigh, her bare cunt. There were no panties to bar the path of his hands as they glided to the front of her pelvis, then dipped down to her pussy.

Oh God, his fingers never failed to drive her crazy when he toyed with her clit like that. Back arching, she opened her legs wider in invitation.

“You’re not going to watch Rico work up the courage to pull the trigger?” he teased, nipping her ear playfully. “I think it’s about to happen—the troops have made their way to the study door.”

There was no way she could answer with words, not when he’d begun to enter her from behind. Shaking her head vigorously to indicate her answer, she bent forward, bracing her hands on the railing. What mattered right now wasn’t whether or not Rico would take his own life. The only thing she cared about was the two of them together like this. The rest of the world simply didn’t exist.

“Michelene?”

“Damn him! Why did he stop?

“I don’t care if he blows his head off or not!” she pouted, pushing back against him. The friction was pure bliss.

“Why?” he insisted, pressing down hard on her clit.

Oh fuck, oh fuck she was seriously going to come, and they had barely started.

“Because he doesn’t matter! Please, Azriel, I need you!”

But as usual, he wasn’t to be deterred. “Why doesn’t he matter?” he pushed, the pressure inside her growing ever stronger. The miniscule amount she was able to move by pushing her pussy back on his dick was not nearly enough. She needed more. And he knew it. “Tell me and I’ll give you what you want; what you need.”

“Because he can’t hurt me!” Although she understood he needed to know she trusted him to always protect her, now was a really rotten time to bring it up. “No one can hurt me. I have you.”

“Good girl.”

With that he slammed into inside her with ruthlessness that was her Azriel. And he was truly glorious.

The End