Beauty Awakened

CHAPTER TEN

SHE HAD SEEN a monster.

Nicola had beaten back the fear percolating inside her since speeding out of the parking garage long enough to pick up her sister from the hospital, ensure Laila was settled in at home, take a shower to wash off the lotion Koldo despised and walk the aisles at the nearest grocery. Fear she wasn’t supposed to entertain. But as she turned her car into her neighborhood to return home, it finally spilled over—and she couldn’t stop it. Or if she could, she didn’t know how. In seconds, she felt as though she’d downed the most toxic of champagnes, all of the possible side effects converging: light-headedness, upset stomach and ringing in the ears.

As her vision blurred, she parked at the nearest curb and leaned her head against the steering wheel, breathing with slow deliberation. I’m still dealing with the aftereffects of a concussion. That’s all. Surely.

Hopefully.

Either that, or Koldo had brought something nasty into her life.

But...no. He was a (famous) warrior to his very core. He was observant. He would have known if he’d ushered in something malevolent. And if he had, he wouldn’t have left her to fend for herself. He wasn’t the type to run. He couldn’t be.

He’d helped her when he could have remained invisible. Or whatever. He’d helped Laila when he could have washed his hands of her.

That left the concussion—but she wasn’t satisfied with that explanation. She had no peace about it. So...what if Nicola wasn’t hallucinating? What if the creature she’d seen had been real? After all, Koldo could arrive and leave in the blink of an eye, and he wasn’t a hallucination. Why couldn’t something else do the same?

So, if the warrior hadn’t led the creature to her door, then...what had? And what was it, exactly?

When she was younger, she’d heard little girls whispering together at school, afraid of the monsters in their closets. Until that moment, Nicola hadn’t known anything about such monsters. Her parents had never allowed her and Laila to watch TV, and they had carefully chosen every book they read. She’d been so wonderfully innocent in regard to the evils out there, afraid only of what her body was doing to her.

But of course, everything had changed after that overheard conversation.

She’d stopped sleeping. She’d looked for monsters around every corner—and she’d begun to see them. A furry, fanged monkey on her mother’s shoulder. Two on her father’s. One following Laila. One following Nicola.

The increase of fear and the constant stress had damaged her heart further. But after months of therapy and new medications, she’d managed to find a small measure of peace. Fickle peace, that is, that had come and gone. But she’d never seen another monster. Until recently.

The past few days, she’d seen two. One with Laila, and one at her work.

Maybe she hadn’t been lost to paranoia back then. Maybe the monsters had always been there, and she had simply shut her eyes. But now...now her eyes were open again.

Her stomach twisted into hundreds of little knots, the edges sharp enough to cut. And cut they did, making her cringe.

She couldn’t think about this now, she realized. Worrying—more than she already had—would violate Koldo’s rules. And besides that, she had too much to do. Laila was at home, waiting for her. Nicola had the chocolate her sister requested, as well as a few other necessities, like ice-cream sandwiches and chips, and the groceries were probably baking in the heat of her car, since Bucket had no working air-conditioning.

Deep breath in...deep breath out. She forced her mind to focus on calming thoughts. Laila, happy. Koldo, telling her those jokes he’d mentioned. She could even imagine what he’d say.

Why did the warrior cross the road?

That’s easy. To kill the guy on the other side.

A bud of amusement had her smiling.

Knock, knock.

Who’s there?

Donut.

Donut who?

Donut run from me, puny girl.

The amusement bloomed the rest of the way.

Her vision cleared. Her stomach settled. After checking the road and finding it empty, she motored forward. Her gaze snagged on the depressingly run-down area anyone with half a brain would have avoided. Most of the lawns were tall and filled with weeds—to hide the evidence of recent crimes, she was sure—and most of the houses had a few boarded-up windows. All of the houses had graffiti spray painted on the brick, hers included.

Police sirens could be heard throughout the night, every night, and she was pretty sure the neighbor on her left had a meth lab in his basement. But this was all she could afford, her parents’ house having been sold to pay a few creditors from their atrocious stack of bills.

Enough. Nicola had one hour before she had to clock in at Y and R Organic Market. A place she couldn’t afford to shop at, even with her employee discount. She planned to spend every minute with Laila.

Only, after she put away the groceries, she discovered her sister had moved from bed to the couch, empty food wrappers all around her as she slept, the TV playing an old episode of Castle. Nicola grinned. This was what she’d wanted for so long. Laila, here. Laila, relaxed.

But her grin faded when she spotted two fanged monkeys perched on the top of the couch, both glaring at her, their fur raised aggressively. Like the creature in the hospital—in fact, the one on the left had to be the very one she’d seen—they had tentacles rather than arms, the appendages slithering around them like hungry snakes ready for a meal.

As a child, Nicola would have run screaming.

Only a few hours ago, she had burned rubber in her car.

Now, she would learn the truth one way or another.

Trembling, she marched forward and reached out. One of the creatures unleashed a shriek of rage, either to scare her off or to warn her that she was about to lose her hand. The other swatted at her with one of those tentacles, and the contact burned, leaving a red welt behind.

That meant...that meant the monsters were real.

Before she could panic, both creatures jumped off the couch and disappeared beyond the wall.

Her knees gave out and she sank to the ground, trying to steady her throbbing heart. Sweet mercy. What did this mean? And what she was going to do about it?

SHORTLY AFTER MIDNIGHT, Nicola closed her register at the Y and R Organic Market, and she’d never been so happy to finish a day. Not just because she was eager to return to Laila, but also because every coworker to cross her path had insulted her. For no reason! Every customer to come through her line had yelled at her. And, okay, yes, they’d had good reason.

The monkeys with tentacles had followed her. Them—and around twenty of their dearest friends. But at least they weren’t hovering around poor Laila.

Ten minutes after her arrival, the horde had congregated inside the market, crawling up the walls, along the ceiling tiles, dropping upon the shoulder of everyone she encountered, unbeknownst to them, and laughing and pointing at her.

She had screamed.

She had stared.

She had almost passed out.

But no one else had seen them. No one else had reacted. Well, not to the demons. They had reacted to her high-pitched terror fits.

About twenty minutes ago, the creatures had left the same way they’d come.

She wanted to talk to Koldo. And maybe climb him like a tree and hide up there in the upper stratosphere of Giantland where, hopefully, no one would be able to see her and she wouldn’t have to deal with this kind of stuff.

“Nicola, I need to speak with you in my office.”

The voice pulled her from her thoughts, and she turned to see her boss standing at the end of her stall. He was five-eight, with sandy-colored hair, hazel eyes and olive-toned skin. He would have been a decent-looking guy if not for his skeevy ways.

He was the type to massage the shoulders of every female he encountered, “just to help with the strain.” That wouldn’t have been so bad, she supposed, but he also liked to whisper, “Now, doesn’t this feel nice?” as he did it.

“Sure,” she said, and gulped.

The instinct to run suddenly rose from deep within her. To run from this place and never look back.

Oh, no, no, no. He was going to fire her, wasn’t he?

Only six other cashiers had worked this shift, and all quickened their pace, gathering their belongings and leaving the store. The front lights had already been turned off, but the parking lot was illuminated by several streetlamps, and she watched as the men and women entered their cars and drove away, careful not to glance in her direction.

Yep. Mr. Ritter was planning to fire her, and they knew it, too.

There had to be a way to change his mind.

Palms sweating, Nicola made her way to the back of the grocery, bypassing the oranges and apples. She needed this job just as desperately as she needed the other one. One paid her house payment, utilities and car insurance, while the other paid for food and gas. In this economy, she would have a difficult time finding another job with late hours and wages above the minimum.

Mr. Ritter’s door was propped open, and she forced her feet to take her inside. Run!

He was already behind his desk, reading a file. She stayed.

“Shut the door,” he said.

She reached back and tugged on the knob, and the thick metal swooshed closed. As always, the lock engaged automatically. The room was small, filled with metal cabinets and an oversize desk. There were two chairs. His, which was cushioned by a pillow, and hers, which wasn’t.

“Sit.”

As she obeyed, she said, “I’m sorry about my performance today. I’ll do better, I promise. And I won’t make any excuses.” How could she? I saw monsters no one else could see, Mr. Ritter. What could he possibly say to that? “I’ll just—”

“How’s your sister?” he interjected, at last looking up at her.

A shudder nearly rocked her out of the seat. A monkey had just appeared on his shoulder. It was smaller than any of the others, and far hairier, and it glared at her with the same hate-filled eyes. And as she watched, it...it...couldn’t be doing what she thought it was doing.

But it was. It was peeing.

“It” was obviously a “he,” and he was aiming at Nicola. Trying to...mark her? Like a dog with its territory?

She scooted as far back in her chair as she could, successfully avoiding any splatter. Mr. Ritter and his papers weren’t so lucky.

“I asked you a question, Miss Lane.”

How could he not know his shirt was now soaked? How could he not see the sogginess of the papers? How could he not smell that...her nose wrinkled...disgusting aroma? “She’s, uh, doing better. She’s home.”

“That’s good.” His tone lowered, and so did his gaze, landing on her breasts and staying. “That’s very good.”

Nicola’s hands curled into fists. “Was that all you wanted to see me about?”

A moment passed before he remembered she had a face. He leaned back in his seat and folded his hands over his middle, his expression stern. “Your performance today was subpar, but you know that. You angered several customers by ringing up their items two or three times—”

“But I always fixed the mistakes.”

“Nevertheless,” he continued smoothly, “I’m sure you’ll soon be asking me to take some time off to spend with your sister, and as you know, we don’t have anyone who can take your place. I’ll need to hire someone new. And if I hire someone new, why can’t that person just take all of your hours?”

A tide of dread washed over her, followed quickly by an intensified urge to run. But why run? she wondered now. The threat had already been issued, and this was her chance to offer a counter. So, once again she stayed put.

“I can promise that I’ll never have another day like today.” From now on, she would ignore the existence of the monkeys. That’s what the therapists had told her to do as a child, and it had worked. Right? “I won’t be asking for any days off, you have my word.”

The monkey began hopping up and down, screeching, and she had trouble distinguishing Mr. Ritter’s next words. “What if your sister gets sick again? What then? What if you get sick again?”

“It won’t matter. I’ll work.”

Lips pursed, he reached out and traced a fingertip over the photo of his wife and three children. “How badly do you want to keep this job?”

“Badly,” she said, leaning forward. “Is there something I can do? Take extra hours? You name it!”

His hand fell to his side. He grinned.

The monkey went quiet—and he, too, grinned.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” Mr. Ritter said, a disgusting gleam flickering in his eyes. “I want you to start by telling me how you’ll use your mouth on me, and end with how you’ll bend over my desk. Then I want you to do it.”

A moment passed in silence as her mind processed what she had just heard. He hadn’t... He couldn’t have... Oh, but he could, and he had. “You don’t have to fire me. I quit.” She stood and marched to the door. The knob held steady when she twisted. Anger mixed with frustration as she barked, “Let me out. Now.”

“I rigged the lock. I hope you don’t mind.” Smiling, Mr. Ritter pushed to his feet, walked around the desk. The monkey jumped to the floor and followed him, the pitter-patter of clawed footfalls resounding. “I’ve wondered what you’re like in bed, you know.”

She tried the knob again, but again, it held. Fear squeezed the air from her lungs, expunging all other emotions. She was trapped in this small room, and no one was out there to hear her cry for help.

“Let me out, Mr. Ritter.” There was a tremor in her voice, one she couldn’t hide. “If you try anything, I’ll fight you. You’ll be punished.”

“I want you to fight. Not that it’ll do you any good. But no...no, I won’t be punished. That I promise you.”

Heart pounding, she rounded on him. The action left her dizzy, but she managed to remain on her feet.

He was so close he had only to reach out to pinch a lock of her hair between his too-thin fingers. “I told everyone I planned to fire you tonight. Tomorrow, if the cops come knocking on my door, I’ll let them know you offered me your body to stay on, and of course, in a moment of weakness, I succumbed. And oh, the sick things you let me do to you. Afterward, though, you were still fired. Horrible of me? Yes. But deserving of your malicious lies about rape?” He tsked under his tongue. “No.”

Rape. The word echoed hollowly in her mind. This was why her instincts had wanted her to run, she realized, not because he’d planned to fire her. Why, why, why hadn’t she listened?

“N-no one will believe you.”

“Won’t they?” He inched ever closer to her. “I know what I’m planning to do, but even I believe me. See, you told me you fell at the hospital and banged your head. I’m guessing you have bruises from that. What’s a few more? How will anyone be able to tell the difference?”

The doctors would be able to tell the difference. And she was sure the authorities would be able to tell the difference...but what did that matter right now? By the time they discovered the truth, his awful deed would already have been done.

The fear magnified, opening welcoming arms to panic. Can’t yield to it.

Must fight. Nicola swung out a fist, intending to punch him in the nose and buy herself a few minutes to find a weapon, but he jumped out of the way, avoiding contact. Before she could swipe out another fist, he kicked out his leg and knocked her ankles together. She jetted backward, her skull hitting the door. A sharp pain wrung a gasp from her, even as pinpricks of light dotted her vision, and she slid to the concrete floor.

Another concussion? she wondered distantly.

Grinning all the wider, Mr. Ritter bent over her. “I put a camera in the women’s bathroom, you know. Your panties have always been my favorite.”

His image swam, blurring with that of the monkey. The creature was once again preparing to pee. Somehow, she managed to find the strength to turn her head and bite Mr. Ritter’s ankle.

Howling, he ripped from her hold. Blood instantly coated her tongue. Good. She’d taken a hunk of skin and muscle.

Temples throbbing, she pulled herself up and spit whatever was in her mouth at the monkey, causing him to lurch away. “I won’t let you do this.”

“You won’t be able to stop me.” He leaped on her, shoving her back down, staying on his knees to straddle her waist. The monkey laughed and pointed at her, just as his friends had done earlier.

“No!” she screamed, bucking to dislodge him. Failing. “No! Stop!” She punched and punched at him, nailing him in the shoulder, the chest and the side, but weak as she was he was able to withstand the abuse and eventually catch...her...wrists....

“Gotcha.”

And he did. He had her, and worked quickly to tie her arms over her head and latch her to the door. Though she could barely draw in a breath, though her heart was fluttering painfully and her vision was dimming, she contorted her body to kick at him. He soon had her legs corralled and her ankles tied to his desk, leaving her stretched out, open to attack.

Tears beaded in her eyes. She’d lost, she realized. As easily as that, she’d lost. And—no, no, no—she was going to pass out. Any moment now, she would fade, utterly vulnerable, even more helpless.

“Now, now,” he said. “I’ll make sure you enjoy yourself. There’s no reason for you to be upset.”

“I said no!” she gritted out.

“And I said oh, baby, yes.” He began unbuttoning his shirt.

This wasn’t happening. Was it? This couldn’t be happening. Could it? Her boss, a man she had known for three years, had not just threatened her, bound her with his necktie and rope. He wasn’t stripping. And she wasn’t fighting for every breath, holding on to her state of awareness with every fiber of her being.

“The things I’m going to do to you...” He discarded the cotton with a shrug of his shoulders.

“Please, don’t do this,” she pleaded.

He ignored her words, looking her over. “I’ll be very careful with your clothes, so that there’s no sign of a struggle.” He reached down, tugged her shirt and bra over her breasts, baring her to his view, and licked his lips. “Well, well. I never expected you to be so pretty here.”

The tears cascaded down her cheeks, burning. “Please.” The room was growing darker by the second.

“Hmmm, I do like when you beg.” He unsnapped the waist of her jeans, slowly lowered the zipper.

“Why are you doing this?” she whispered, fighting sobs. Darkness...so much darkness...

“Because I want to. Because I can.” She heard the slide of his zipper.

A ferocious bellow suddenly ripped through the entire room, scraping at her ears. Mr. Ritter stiffened—just before his weight was thrown off her.

Boom!

Nicola blinked, light returning. She saw her boss across the room, plaster and dust forming a cloud around him.

“I grant you battle rights to the demon,” a familiar voice snapped, and then Koldo was leaning over her, cutting her loose, righting her clothing. His big, strong hands were gentle, comforting. “But the human is mine.”

He was here.

He had saved her.

The sobs finally battled their way free, and she threw her arms around his neck, holding him as tightly as she possibly could.

“Are you all right?” he asked in a soft voice.

She tried to reply, but she was choking, gasping, and couldn’t work out a single word.

He lifted her against his chest, anchoring her with one hand and righting the chair she’d vacated with the other. He placed her in the seat and tried to straighten, but she maintained her grip.

He knelt in front of her and cupped her cheeks, forcing her to face him. “What was done to you, Nicola?”

Somehow, she found her voice. “He...he...tried to...was going to...”

A hard gleam in his eyes as he said, “But he didn’t?”

“Not yet.”

“I know you gave me rights, but I will bow to your desires. What would you prefer I do?” an unfamiliar male asked. “Capture or destroy?”

“Destroy,” Koldo replied, and with the word, whatever tether he had on his control must have snapped. He straightened, every inch of him vibrating with aggression, and stomped over to Mr. Ritter.

One punch. Two. Three. Four. There were no pauses. No stopping to issue a taunt. Koldo simply unloaded, his fists pounding into her boss’s face. Blood sprayed in every direction. The sound of breaking bone echoed.

The brutality of the act stunned her. She’d never seen such focused rage.

Her gaze slid in the other, unfamiliar man’s direction. He was the same size as Koldo, and sweet mercy, he was beautiful. So blond and tan and, wow, he had some big baby blues. But what truly snagged her attention were the huge, feathery wings arching over his shoulders and swooping all the way to the floor.

He was...an angel?

I grant you battle rights to the demon, Koldo had said.

Angels fought demons. Right? So...yes, he had to be an angel.

The winged male picked up speed as he chased the monkey—the demon—through the room, his image blurring. He swung two menacing swords, papers floating from the desk to the ground. Files scattered, and furniture was toppled over. Finally, though, his blades slicked through the monkey’s fur—right across his throat. The head separated from the body, and both toppled to the ground. Black mist rose from the pieces...pieces now sizzling, burning to ash.

Ash that danced through the air, curling up, up and away.

He tossed the blood-soaked swords behind him, and as they vanished, frowned at Koldo. “Hey, that’s enough,” he said.

But Koldo continued.

Mr. Ritter was too busy dying to weigh in with his opinion.

The winged male threw his arms around Koldo’s middle, trapping him against his chest. Koldo jerked free and spun, his expression cold and menacing, his teeth longer and sharper than she’d ever seen them. He clearly intended to bite the other man, perhaps even to rip his head off.

Somehow, he caught himself in time. Just before contact, he shut his mouth. But he was moving too quickly to stop altogether, and his cheek slammed into the other guy’s chin, sending him stumbling backward. When the blond straightened, the two faced each other.

“You can’t kill him,” the blond snarled. “I did us both a favor.”

There was something about his voice...something that caused Nicola to flinch. A purity she’d never before heard. A compulsion to believe him, whatever he said.

“I know,” Koldo spat. “But I can hurt him.”

“You’ve done that.”

“Not enough.”

Otherworldly blue eyes narrowed with determined calculation. “Fine. You finish with the male, and risk ruining us all, and I’ll take care of the female.”

A second later, Koldo was standing in front of her, yet he’d never taken a step. His heat quickly enveloped her, and his comforting scent followed suit. “You won’t touch her.”

The blond nodded as though disappointed, but he couldn’t hide the twitching of his lips. Clearly, he was now amused.

He leaned down and wrapped his big hand around Mr. Ritter’s neck and lifted him off the floor. Her boss was unconscious, his face nothing but blood and pulp. His eyes were swollen shut, his nose flattened against his cheek, and his lip slit in multiple places.

“What are his crimes?” the blond asked her.

Koldo reached out and placed his hand on her shoulder, offering comfort.

“He videos girls going to the bathroom,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around her middle. At least she could cross concussion off the list. Her eyesight was fine, her stomach calming. “He tied me up. He touched me. He was going to... Was happy about...”

A growl erupted from Koldo. Those too-sharp teeth were once again bared. His nostrils flared with his every breath, and his muscles knotted, seeming to expand. “You will give him to me and walk away, Thane.”

“Hardly,” the male—Thane—retorted. “I told you. You’ve done enough. I’ll take him to the human authorities.”

Nicola studied Koldo more intently. He might skirt the edge of savage right now, but his image was her lifeline to sanity. He wore a long, white robe, just like the other guy, but there were no wings stretching from his back.

He couldn’t be an angel, then. So...what was he? And why wasn’t he covered in Mr. Ritter’s blood? There wasn’t a single crimson speck on him.

“I can’t allow you to break Zacharel’s golden rule,” Thane added.

“I will gladly break the rule,” he snarled, every word edging closer to murderous.

“Koldo,” Nicola whispered. She didn’t want him in trouble over this.

Instantly the warrior spun back to face her, flickers of concern in his golden eyes. “Yes?”

“I want to go home. Will you...please open...the door?” Her chin began another round of trembling, not from tears, not this time, but from cold. Despite the warrior’s heat, ice was crystallizing in her veins, shock giving way to a heavy realization. After this, her life would never again be the same.

“He somehow locked the office from the inside,” she added, “and I couldn’t get the door to budge.”

Rage contorted his features, but his voice was tender as he said, “I’m sorry I wasn’t here sooner.”

“Please, don’t be—” She pressed her lips together, and her heart skipped a beat as she remembered the words she’d offered to Mr. Ritter.... Please, don’t do this.... Yet he had spurned her. Laughed.

“I’ll take you home,” Koldo replied, and she almost slumped over with a new tide of relief.

“Thank you.”

“Find the proof of the cameras,” Koldo told Thane, “and make sure the authorities learn of his crimes. All of his crimes. If he isn’t locked up by morning, make no mistake, I’ll return and finish what I started.”

“Of course. By the way,” the other male said, “Zacharel just spoke inside my head.”

Koldo nodded stiffly. “Mine, too.”

“So you know we’re free of each other.”

“And that the girl is now my charge. Yes.”

She was?

“Makes sense,” Thane said. “You know when she’s in trouble.”

He did?

Koldo popped his jaw.

“Until the next battle, warrior.” Thane spread his wings and catapulted through the air with Mr. Ritter clutched at his side.