She lifted her head. “Here I stand.”
“Damn it, woman.” I closed my eyes for a few brief seconds, allowing a sliver of humanity to slip through. God, it burned, nearly slicing me in half as my Angel blood roared with anger at the weakness. Strength and weakness, could not co-exist, not for long. Eventually my angelic blood would destroy what humanity I had left.
I’d felt it since the beginning of time.
I knew.
One day.
It would no longer be possible.
This was not that day.
“Twelve.” I sighed. “I will save twelve.”
Eva bowed her dark head. “Thank you, Cassius.”
“Do not thank me.”
“I will always—” She took a step forward and held out her hand. “—thank you, when you show the weak mercy.”
I took Eva’s hand without thinking and was nearly brought to my knees as the emotional connection she offered burned through our palms. She had no idea what her touch did to me—what it made me crave.
“Earthquake,” I whispered again, this time the ground beneath us split down the middle. I pulled Eva into my arms and envisioned the docks. We landed with a thud against the wood.
People scrambled about mindlessly as the ground shook and then the volcano erupted into the sky.
It would be the ash and the gas that would destroy the people… the heat alone… I refused to think about it.
“You promised,” Eva reminded me as she stepped into the boat and waited.
I glanced at the pier.
“You.” I pointed to a young boy. “Where is your family?”
“I—” The boy’s face was spattered with dirt and blood. “They got trampled, sir.”
“Then come,” I instructed. He stepped into the boat. Eva embraced him and offered a warm smile.
“Eleven more to go, Cassius.” Eva said.
“Irritating Vampire,” I grumbled, as, with each life I saved, the darkness receded, restoring my humanity.
Within five minutes I had another eleven.
All children.
“Let’s go.” I waved my hand in the air as the water carried the ship to safety.
When I turned back to glance at the once Great City, it was to see Sariel hovering over the volcano, his eyes sad.
Clouds spread around his wings, and then a large being descended next to him.
“The Angel of Death,” Eva whispered linking her hand with mine. We watched as his black feathers descended slowly covering the city until all was blackness.
And then…
It rained red.
Cassius
THE SCREAMS OF PEOPLE I’D killed seemed to lessen the farther I walked into my house. It had always been a safe zone.
Quiet.
Where I conveniently forgot all the blood that was on my hands.
My heart, stupid muscle that it was, refused to stop slamming against my chest as perspiration collected around my temples. My knees buckled, my vision blurred. It wasn’t a heart attack, I at least knew that much.
No, it was more like deep rooted fear.
Fear she would find out before I had my chance to convince her of… of what? That I wasn’t as cruel of a bastard as she’d originally thought? That I loved her beyond what logic told me? That my entire being felt like it had been waiting—for her? So close to blurting out the truth—telling her everything.
And then what? She’d laugh in my face. The words about burst from my lips, but I knew no matter what I said, if my actions didn’t match them, the outcome wouldn’t be in my favor.
I was doing a damned horrible job of even getting her to see me as a friend—and as a lover? Something told me I was going backward when I should have been going forward.
Agitated, I clenched and unclenched my fists as I made my way through the dark house. I hadn’t returned since that fateful night with Sariel, not sure why, maybe because this house, this haven reminded me of who I was, and I was trying desperately to be anyone but that person.
I flipped on the nearest switch. Light flooded into the large living room. A place I’d spent many years sitting in, reflecting, reading, shutting out the world because as much as everyone would love to believe that I adored passing judgment on immortal and human beings alike, it wore on me. Half Angel meant that although I was damn good at what I did, I still ached for something more.
“This is…” Stephanie did a circle of the room, her eyes most likely taking in the floor to ceiling book shelves filled with dusty reminders of just how old I really was—manuscripts flooded the large oak desk, ancient scrolls were tossed onto the floor beneath it. A coffee maker older than Genesis sat in the corner near two large purple-cushioned chairs. The bay windows overlooked the lake, and large black velvet curtains were pulled back with gold rope, revealing the beautiful view. “So not what I expected.” She picked up a book and frowned. “You have an original copy of Pride and Prejudice?”