Chapter 193: Chapter Eleven

Kyra

His blond hair looked soft, his blue eyes so penetrating that I couldn’t look away even though I was petrified. It was all too much, not because I didn’t believe it.

Quite the opposite actually.

My parents were obsessed, and I do mean obsessed, with mythology to the point that they made me visit both Greece and Egypt every year. The odd part was that we only ever went to the same places.

And when I asked why we kept repeating the trip the look on their faces was always the same.

Helpless and fearful.

I exhaled softly, not sure how much to say or what to do. Obviously I couldn’t go back to my apartment, not with demons lurking. Then again, wasn’t that what Timber was?

Part of me wanted to call my mom to say something had happened, but what would that even accomplish other than telling her that all the mythological stories they read me growing up were partially right?

“I think—” My voice didn’t sound as shaky as I thought it would. “You should start talking.”

Timber’s eyes narrowed. “You’re not screaming.”

“Would it make you feel better?”

He smirked, just slight enough to catch it before sobering. “If it was my name, absolutely, but if it was shrieking and then beating me with a pillow, probably not so much.”

“I’d probably use something sharper.”

“Noted.” He sat down on the couch while Tarek sounded like he was beating pots and pans in the kitchen. What made that much noise to cook? Wrangling a live cow?

“So…” I was afraid to touch him, to sit too close. “You’re a demon.”

“We’re just gonna rip that band-aid right off.” He hung his head, and for the first time since knowing him, he seemed, not just uncertain, but ashamed.

I reached out and slid my hand onto his thigh. I don’t know why I did it, but I had this compelling need to touch him, to comfort him.

He tensed and then instantly relaxed as he placed his hand over mine and squeezed.

As if things couldn’t get any weirder, something flashed in my line of vision, Timber smiling, wearing some sort of Egyptian-looking hat, and gold so much gold, it was everywhere.

~“Find me,” he whispered.

“Find us,” I’d whispered right back.

And then pain, so much pain, like my heart was being ripped in two. ~

“Are you okay?” Timber asked softly, “You just paled.”

“No,” I frowned. “Yes. I don’t know. I’ve always had very insane dreams like I’ve lived another life or maybe just watch way too much TV.”

“It’s probably the first.” He wasn’t helping. “Some of the greatest minds can’t even conjure up the shit I’ve seen.”

I scooted closer. “Oh yeah? Like what?”

“Ahhhh, she wants me to scare her more?”

“No ~she’s~ just curious.” I rolled my eyes. “Plus I think I’m kind of stuck with you now, aren’t I?”

He winced. “Until we can get demons to stop hunting you, figure out why you smell like sunshine, and why I can literally taste colors when I’m around you, yes. Stuck.”

“You taste colors?”

“Not… usually,” he said slowly, his blue eyes blinking up at me. “But with you, it’s like I can taste and feel everything, which you should know, for a demon is basically like being given the best gift.” He shuddered. “Demons aren’t born, they’re made, a race that was once the Creator’s greatest army, cursed to roam the earth they tried to take over, tried to destroy.”

“Wait!” My mind was reeling. “I thought demons were fallen angels.”

He shrugged. “Some are, but that wasn’t always how it was. The angels see what the price is for insubordination, and all they have to do is take a peek at our lives, what it’s like to be without a soul, without ever feeling satiated or full, and they shudder to think of the day where they want forever and are never free.”

My throat clogged up as I watched pain flicker across his face. “You mean you’re never full? Ever?”

“Just like liquor doesn’t do the trick, nothing works, and after centuries of being this way you just get used to being in constant pain. It becomes your companion right along with bitterness.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You shouldn’t be,” he said quickly. “Because I asked for this. I just don’t remember what caused me to seek it.” He stopped himself. “To ask for this curse, some nights I wonder if I was tricked, other times I remember myself begging for a soul so I could just feel ~something~—anything, and then when I was given one, I felt it all, including the person’s last terrified vision of me as I devoured her whole, so don’t be sorry. I am the monster you fear. Don’t romanticize what isn’t there, Kyra.”

My stomach clenched. “Devoured?”

“Eat,” he clarified. “I consumed her blood, sucked her soul from her cold lifeless corpse, and I killed her so I could live.”

I was shaking, I couldn’t help it. Timber scooted away like he knew I needed space and then sighed. “I know you want to ask if it was worth it, to borrow someone’s soul, to finally feel full, to feel whole. It wasn’t. I didn’t know at the time but you can’t just steal a soul that doesn’t fit. That’s not how creation works, so it was a cruel trick of the goddess I sought out. I would have a worthless soul in my body with memories of torture and terror, and I would still be a monster. It wasn’t until Hope, the last remaining Elf princess—” I sucked in a sharp breath. “—started restoring my race that I’ve felt even an ounce of peace.” He looked down at the tattoo wrapping around both of his hands now.

“I feel like you’re leaving part of the story out,” I whispered.

He didn’t look up. “Why’s that?”

I gulped. “Everyone is walking on eggshells here. They look at you like you’re dying and they can’t fix it, and minutes ago that tattoo was only on one hand.”

He choked out a humorless laugh. “Caught that, did you?”

“I know we barely know each other…” I whispered. “Maybe talking will help?”

“Talking makes it true,” he snapped and then stood and paced in front of me. “The tattoo started growing a few days ago, after one of my nightmares, a memory actually, and when I met you, it…” He stopped talking.

“It what?”

He crossed his arms and faced me. “It grew.”

“Grew?”

“I didn’t stutter.”

“How?”

He gave me an annoyed look. “The brightest immortals in the realm are in this house, and even they don’t know. Angelic power doesn’t even know—or maybe Cassius does and he just refuses to interfere, damn angels and their inability to do anything except watch.”

I gaped. “A real angel?”

He gave me another sigh of annoyance. “In this very house, we met the Vamp, you saw the fangs, an angel, a dark one—both human and angel, a goddess, an elf, a werewolf turned angelic Watcher, long story don’t ask, and…” His lips turned into a thin line. “A fluffy puppy.”

“Heard that.” Tarek growled as he came back into the room with a turkey panini and the largest glass of wine I’d ever seen. “Eat up!”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “You’re a dog?”

“Real cool, Timber, make me look like the sad puppy one more time and I’m biting you in the ass—literally.”

Timber rolled his eyes. “You’d like it too much. I have a fabulous ass.”

“The fact that you stare at your own ass depresses me.” And then he eyed me. “You’ll have to forgive him. It’s been at least a thousand years since he’s been laid.”

I didn’t miss Timber’s wince.

Or the sexual tension that erupted around us.

“Okay…” I cleared my throat. “So for the record, you’re not an actual dog.”

“Werewolf.” Tarek grinned and then shrugged. “But if you want to get technical, Mason, my brother, is the King of the pack and of the earth, watches over all the shitty little humans, no offense.”

I held up my hands. “None taken.”

“Anyway, anyone want to watch a movie?”

“Dibs!” Mason came barreling into the room. “She has to watch ~King Lion~!”

Tarek groaned.

“Nope,” Serenity followed him, had they all just been eavesdropping? “She’s had a stressful day. She gets to watch ~Beauty and the Beast.~ Plus…” She eyed Timber. “It might help her be more understanding.”

Timber gritted his teeth. “I’m nothing like the beast!”

“Grumpy, yells more than he should and has poor manners, hmm…” Serenity tapped her fingers against her mouth while Timber mumbled something under his breath and sat down again.

I was starving, so I let everyone bicker while I ate and tried to wrap my head around all the information.

Slowly but surely Timber seemed to relax as he rolled up the sleeves to his black button-down shirt, revealing powerful forearms and the gorgeous inky branches as they seemed to pulse around his body almost imprisoning them in their chaotic beauty.

Someone turned the volume up on the TV, grabbing my attention. The rose in the glass case lost another petal. I’d always hated that part of the story, like some sort of countdown.

I remember crying about it when I was little.

My mom had to console me with cookies, and when I finally did calm down enough, she said that love surpassed time and one day I would understand what that meant, that even the magic of the rose couldn’t keep Belle away.

And if anything it was just a reminder that time was running out and that you should tell those you love that you love them the minute you feel it, and say it often.

I smiled at the memory. Both my parents were a bit odd, but I remembered that day fondly because it was one of the first days my mom had made me believe in something bigger than myself.

I sighed and looked over at Timber’s arm.

And then I thought about what he’d said, his nightmare triggered something and now it was growing at a rapid pace. I obviously wasn’t helping.

And then it hit me!

“IT’S JUST LIKE THE MOVIE!” I shouted, earning everyone’s attention as I jumped to my feet and then grabbed his arm.

He hissed out a curse and then smiled sadly at me. “I wish that was true, that I just need someone to love me and all will be well, this isn’t a Disney movie, Kyra. Remember, I’m the monster not the prince.”

The sadness in his voice almost undid me as I knelt in front of him. A memory blossomed, one so fuzzy I couldn’t focus, and it had me almost dizzy.

I’d done that before.

I’d knelt for this man before.

My eyes shot to his. Golden flecks pressed through the blue of his irises, and then the red overtook again.

I ran my hand down his forearms and shook my head. “I could be wrong, but I think, I think the tattoo is a countdown.”

Behind me, Tarek chuckled. “To what? His death? The end of the world?”

Timber went completely still and whispered. “Cursed to repeat until the souls find one another, cursed in a prison of darkness and shame for daring to take what wasn’t mine. Cursed.” He swayed forward and then in a voice that sounded eerily familiar whispered. “Find. Me.”