chapter 12
Heather decided to enjoy a rare day off by soaking in a bubble bath with a glass of wine and then reading a book. She had seen Tiffany yesterday and knew what today would be like. So she decided to spare herself the trouble of nagging her sister for not having changed clothes or eating. She wasn’t due to see her mother again for another few days, and she didn’t have to dance tonight, so she was free.
She ran the water as hot as she could stand it, adding bubble bath that smelled like lilies. Making sure she had her fluffy bathrobe handy for getting out, she undressed and sank neck deep into the steaming water.
Uri filled her thoughts.
His assertions of being an archangel, sent here to help her fulfill her destiny were absurd. She was angry that things had to be this way because she felt like she had finally met someone that she could like.
They had a connection, the heat told her that. She could feel his nearness, even if she couldn’t see him. The flame in her belly told her.
The physical comfort that she got from being near him was another connection. Last night she had almost fallen asleep, immediately after telling him her life’s story. She couldn’t sleep after thinking about that stuff, much less talking about it.
And he’d enjoyed watching her dance. Her ballet. He’d preferred it. Heather liked that.
She closed her eyes, and remembered that first night, in private room number two. He had hummed Swan Lake while she danced for him. She could tell from the look on his face that he enjoyed it. That memory was quickly becoming a favorite of hers, something that she would lock away and save for dark times, to pull out like an old note, to finger and re-read until it was worn and frayed around the edges.
She wanted to dance for him again.
Heather finished washing and stood from the tub, drying her body with a towel. She wrapped herself in her robe and went to choose a book from her shelves.
Trying to decide between Paradise Lost and On Nature, a knock at the door interrupted her.
She opened the door a crack, then wider, as a smile formed on her lips. “Speak of the Devil and imps appear.”
Uri stood in her doorway, a funny smile on his lips. When she opened the door wide, he came inside her living room. “Were you thinking of me?” He looked proud of himself.
Shyly, she answered. “Yes.”
His eyes took on a hungry look that rocked Heather to the core. Like a predator, he advanced, his athletic build coming closer. “You are all I’ve been thinking about, Heaven.” In an instant, he was on her, pushing her against the wall behind the door. “I want you.” He kissed her.
Her senses overwhelmed, Heather kissed him back. His cool, wet tongue was in her mouth, warring with hers, as if her very soul was at stake. She moaned into his mouth, eliciting a primal growl from him.
His hands went to the belt of her robe, and yanked on it, roughly. His fingertips brushed the robe off her shoulders, in one chilly stroke. His hands were all over her, lifting her against the wall by her rear, pulling her against his arousal. Her hands slipped under his tee shirt, feeling the hard planes of his chest, scratching with her nails in her desire.
She was surrounded with the essence of Uri, the feel of him, the smell of him. She breathed deeply, inhaling the burnt smell.
Shock opened her eyes, as she realized she wasn’t kissing Uri at all. She tried to push him off her, but this one was too strong.
“Stop.” She mouthed against his mouth, still insistently kissing hers. Heather recognized him, the dichotomy of the cool touch and burnt smell. It was Damien’s frigidity. Not Uri’s spicy warmth.
“Damien! Stop!” She pushed against him, with all of her strength but realized it was in vain. She was no match for him.
She closed her mouth, biting the tip of his tongue, causing him to finally retreat. He looked at her with a smirk on his face.
She watched stunned, wrapping her robe around herself tightly, as Uri’s golden features melded into something truly horrifying, before morphing again into the dark handsomeness of Damien. His eyes were the last to transform, fading from the scaly red evil into the black orbs of apathy.
Tears sprang to Heather’s eyes as she realized exactly what Damien was and why he'd seemed so evil to her.
"Yes, Heaven. I am." His voice was smug. "It's a relief, actually, to not have to pretend anymore." Damien advanced on her, pinning her to the wall again, this time completely against her will. His cold body rubbed against hers.
"My entire existence, I've been blamed." His tongue snaked out, licking Heather's neck, before slinking back inside his mouth, which covered her neck in cold open-mouthed kisses. He spoke between contacts with her neck. "I've been blamed for bad luck." Kiss. "For war." Kiss. "For disease." Kiss. "Famine." Kiss. "Bad dreams." Kiss. Each clammy press of his lips to her skin sending a shudder throughout her body.
He raised his head, and looked Heather squarely in the face. "I used to be like Uri, you know. But then He got mad at me, and threw me down, and now, I can't have anything good." His hands were on Heather's hips, and she squirmed under his touch as his icy fingers slowly made their way up her rib cage, cupping her breasts.
Heather gasped at the icy contact. "Damien, please."
Damien's eyes caressed her lips. "I want something good, for a change. I want you." His gaze locked on hers. "I will have my Heaven." Giving her breasts a hard squeeze, he released her abruptly, stepping back. "One way or another, willing or unwilling, I will have you."
Heather found the strength to open the door, wide. “Get out, Damien.”
He sauntered past, slowly, antagonizing her with his movements. “See you later, Heather.”
Fingers shaking, she locked all of the locks on the door, then moved her wingback chair in front of it, feeling incredibly vulnerable. Expelling wracking sobs, she sank to the floor in a heap.
Damien was the devil.
She knew this, as sure as she knew that her sister was addicted to meth. She knew it as sure as she knew her mother would never be the same again. She knew it as sure as she knew she would never see her dad or her brother alive again.
She knew it as sure as she knew Uri was an angel.