The Bound Angel (Sacrilege Rising: Book 1)

Chapter Twenty Eight

Mike rode as fast and as hard as he could. Horns blared and tires screeched as he raced through intersections without looking. Emma’s words echoed in his mind. Do whatever you need. The same words that had come from Meredith. And Allie. Almost identical. Different voices, but they were laced with the same husky, throaty need.

The city passed in a blur. He pumped and steered by sheer muscle memory. Something was happening to him, or around him, or to the people around him. He didn’t know what, but he was sure it was something.

Then again…

He’d chalked his first time with Meredith up to alcohol, maybe that’s what this was too. He was definitely teetering towards drunk himself, and Emma was much smaller. Maybe they hadn’t said the same exact words. Maybe they were just similar and only sounded the same in false memory.

He rode on. The burn in his legs kept his brain focused just enough to work through it. Someone had to know what was happening. It all started that night at the church, when that woman made everything go crazy. Lana said she was a demon. Lana would know. He had to find her.

He banked hard around a corner to the sound of screaming brakes and a blaring horn. A white sedan swerved out of the way at the last second. Almost there. His apartment was just a few blocks away now.

Meredith and Allie were virtually strangers before that night. Sure, he’d known them in an aware-you-exist sort of way, but not really, not in a way that would lead to this so quickly or so aggressively. It happened literally overnight. Something was off. He’d been ignoring it because the caveman in him said you don’t ask questions when scorching hot women came on to you. And Lana’s explanation made sense if he didn’t think about it too hard. But Emma was different. They’d been friends for years. They’d shared meals and late-night conversations about life, and had walked each other home after nights out. This time he couldn’t ignore it.

His bike clattered to the ground as he hustled through the doors and sprinted up the stairs. Lana would know. She had to. The door to his apartment slammed against the wall as he threw it open.

Lana was sitting on the couch polishing her armor, just like she always was. She took one look at Mike and asked, “What has happened?”

“Something,” he managed between panting breaths, “something is happening to me.” He could barely get a full sentence out.

As had happened so often lately, Lana was there in an instant. She put her hands on his shoulders while he stared at the floor, holding his knees, willing his body to slow down and breathe.

“Michael, talk to me. I can feel you coming apart.”

His head was spinning. It was too much to keep inside and too much to process on his own. “Emma. She threw herself at me. Like the others. It’s not right. I know it’s not.”

“What is not right? We have discussed this before. You-”

“No,” he interrupted forcefully. He’d never interrupted Lana like that before, and her eyes widened in surprise. “That’s not it. I’ve known Emma for years. She’s never been interested. And now all of the sudden she’s all over me? No way. Something’s wrong.”

Lana paused for a beat. “You are certain?”

He nodded. “You should have seen the look in her eyes. It was… feral.”

The angel clasped her hands together and turned away. “Then she has likely…” Her voice trailed off.

Mike looked up to see her shudder, and her head tilt to the side like she was working out a kink in her neck. Then she continued, slower this time. “It is possible she has hidden something from you. Something traumatic.”

“Like Meredith, you mean? A bad breakup?”

Lana nodded but kept her back to him. Mike paced back and forth down the short hall leading to his bedroom. Maybe it was possible. He hadn’t seen Emma much lately. Maybe she’d started dating someone. But a new relationship ending after just a few weeks wouldn’t have left her like this. She was one of the strongest women he knew. Leaving home on your own to start a life in a new country wasn’t for the weak-willed.

Mike shook his head. “That’s not it. There’s something else.” The words felt true as soon as he said them. For the first time in a long time, he was completely focused on this one thing. For once, there were no distractions. “There’s something else going on.”

“Well then, she could have…” Lana trailed off again. From behind, it looked like her whole body clenched in pain, before exhaling slowly.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, finally coming to a stop.

“Nothing. How did you feel when you were with her?”

He thought back. “A little drunk. Very turned on. Actually, that’s how it was with Meredith the first time too. We were drinking, and once I noticed her, in that way, it just sort of spiraled.”

Lana finally turned to face him, looking relieved. “Then there you have it. Two young, attractive people with common interests, unable to be honest with each other out of fear of ruining a cherished friendship. Not so uncommon a situation, would you agree?”

Mike considered. When she put it like that…

“Then alcohol is introduced. Lowered barriers, combined with our bond, smoothed the way. Nothing out of the ordinary.” She sounded relieved, but Mike noticed she was sweating. Was it hot in here? The air conditioner was running full-bore, the plastic window blinds clattering against each other as they fluttered next to the window unit.

Her explanation was certainly plausible, in a general sense. But it didn’t fit. It just didn’t. One night they drank too much at her apartment, and he had to crash on her couch. Nothing happened then. Another time she stayed over so late watching movies that she didn’t feel like walking home, and he insisted she take his bed, alone. There were all those nights at the bars.

“No,” he decided. “Emma and I have been drunk together before and nothing like this happened. You should have seen her. She was out of control.”

“Michael,” Lana continued. Whatever had been bothering her a minute ago seemed to have gone away. Behind her, the day’s remaining light streamed through the window, making her blue eyes sparkle. As always, they reminded him of the first warm day of spring after a long winter. “It is very possible, likely even, that you…” A strangled, choking noise came from her throat and cut her short.

There was something in those usually-comforting eyes that was suddenly… off.

“Lana, what is it?”

“Nothing,” she snapped, and now she looked angry. The standing lamp in the corner flickered. “Stop asking me that.”

He took a step back. “Hey, it’s okay.” Her reaction was making him nervous. “It’ll all be okay. Right?” If Lana was scared of something, then he should be downright terrified.

She took a deep breath. “Yes. You are right. I am sorry. These last days have been trying, and I am tired.”

Mike exhaled. He didn’t realize he’d been holding his breath. “No worries. I get that. Why don’t you sit down?”

“I am fine.”

“Okay, then there has to be another explanation.” His focus hadn’t wavered, even if Lana wasn’t her usual self. This was about Emma. His friend. He couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d been trying to get him drunk. She guilted him into that first drink at the bar, kept ordering more, and convinced him to do that last one before they left. Then she made another at her apartment. She didn’t usually drink that much. In fact, she never drank that much. He thought back to their lunch at the pub right after the fire. Something was off then too, but he’d brushed it off. He wouldn’t make that mistake again. He owed her that.

“There’s something happening. I know it. What do you think?”

He got the impression Lana would have been content to let him work through it on his own if he hadn’t asked for her input. She opened her mouth to speak, closed it, then began slowly. “Emma is a close friend, yes?”

He nodded.

“It is possible my… connection to you has… somehow…” She kept pausing between words. He looked at her closely. Sweat was beading on her forehead. Her face was furrowed in concentration. “Caused her to…”

She doubled over and wretched, one hand clutching her stomach, the other holding the wall for support.

Mike rushed to her side. “Hey, whoa,” he said as he tried to help her balance. “What’s up with you?”

“I told you,” she snarled, “I am fine.”

“It’s me,” he continued quietly. “You can talk to me. Something is clearly bothering you. Tell me.”

Through the window, the sky was changing color as the sun sank beneath the horizon. It was an hombre of oranges and reds with smears of purple creeping in. When Lana straightened, scarlet light reflected off the silver ring on her collar.

It had been a long time since he’d given the collar much thought. He spent plenty of time thinking about their situation, of course. Nightly mental practice sessions made sure of that. But the collar itself, the catalyst of their relationship, had faded from his focus.

Now it drew his attention. That single band of black fit snugly around her neck. One continuous loop. Seamless, flawless, smooth. Free of blemishes and inconsistencies, except for the silver ring at the hollow of her throat. Now it glittered crimson.

“Lana,” he said. His voice sounded different, somehow. Deeper. Fuller. It almost seemed to echo, like he was standing at the center of an empty cave. “Tell me what’s happening.”

Time slowed. Then it stopped. The clattering shutters fell silent, but he couldn’t look over to see if they were still moving. Lana was staring off into the distance. She was straightening from whatever had just come over her, but moving slowly, as if she was underwater. Motes of dust hung in the light streaming through the window. Mike’s mind was moving just as slowly, like wading through mud.

Then something clicked, and he took a good look at Lana. His angel. Her long, blonde hair shimmering in leftover daylight. Her lean, athletic body. Sun-kissed skin. Clear eyes and a perfect smile. She was a California fantasy, and now he couldn’t help but notice how little she was wearing.

A drumbeat pounded in his chest as thunder rumbled in his ears. Something deep inside him stirred again, stronger this time, the strongest it had ever been. In an instant, he was rock hard. He drew breath and began to speak. Whether it was to comfort her, or to press on with his questions, or to take her up on an earlier invitation, he wouldn’t know until it came out.

But before the words formed, her gaze flicked up to him. They stared into each other’s eyes. Hers were desperate. Then resigned. Then something else. Something primal.

Mike stumbled. When he caught his balance, Lana was back to normal. Except for the look in her eye. Any trace of friendliness was gone. Now he was staring at a predator.

“Oh, Michael,” she purred. “You could not just let it be.”

“What do you mean?” He sensed the change in her demeanor as much as he saw it. An instinctual awareness of danger that had kept the neanderthals alive when they were hunted by sabretooths. A feeling in their gut that made them fear the things that stalked in the shadows, honed over hundreds of thousands of years of evolution.

The hair on the back of his neck stood up.

“You could not simply enjoy a good thing.”

Chills raced down his arms, and he took a step back.

“The things I have done for you.” Her voice was low and husky. “Any other mortal would have thrown himself at my feet with gratitude.”

“Lana? What’s going on?”

“You asked me what was happening.” She chuckled. “Excuse me, commanded that I tell you.” She fingered the collar around her neck. “What an inconvenience this has been.”

“You’re freaking me out.”

“My master has spoken.” Her mouth curled into a smile that chilled Mike’s blood. “And I must obey.”

The sun finally fell below the horizon. It cast the room in dusk’s shade.

Lana took a step toward him, and there was a sensual lilt to her hips that wasn’t there before. The standing lamp in the corner flickered again, but this time it didn’t stop. The stuttering grew brighter, and brighter still, until it was so bright Mike winced and shielded his eyes. A long hissss came from the faulty light and sparks flew from the bulb. It was followed by a snap-crack, and the light blew out, leaving an afterimage of blue and purple smeared across his vision.

Lana took another step forward. Her shoulders were back, drawing his attention to her chest, and she carried herself with a confidence that matched the predatory gleam in her eyes. The shadows in the corners of the room seemed to move. They swirled like black paint being stirred. Then they grew longer. They stretched toward her, reaching and flowing in rhythm with her movements. They wrapped around her like smoke, obscuring, hiding, until she was as much shadowed outline as tangible person. She lifted her arms as she continued her steady approach, hands reaching upward, head tilting back, fingers gliding through hair like she was washing in the shower. In their wake, blonde turned to glossy black. It changed in streaks at first, and then all at once, until her hair was dark as midnight.

Her white shift, pure as untouched snow, disappeared in the shadows, like it was melting away. When the smoke parted, a little black dress was in its place.

Lana took in a long, satisfied breath, and moaned, “Mmmm.” Her outline shuddered as she exhaled. “Finally.”

Mike caught a glimpse of pale skin. An outline of long hair being shaken out. A silhouette of curves. All the while she advanced. One slow, stalking, sensuous step after another.

She moved like a cat, bunched muscles flexing in an easy rhythm. He retreated further down the hall, backing away while keeping his eyes on the figure that had been Lana. He couldn’t see anything besides the shifting, writhing shadows and the figure of a woman at their center. The living room and hallway behind her were swallowed by darkness. Then he was in his room, and there was nowhere left to go.

Together, they stopped. A pair of eyes opened in the dark, like sapphires floating on oil, bright and clear and blue. They had always reminded him of warmth and comfort, like summer lake water, or a clear sky over an open field. Now they looked cold. They made him think of glacier ice.

Something was wrong. Seriously, dangerously wrong. He pleaded for the one person that had kept him grounded through this entire ordeal. The person he’d turned to each time he thought he was losing his mind. The woman, warrior, angel, that had kept him company when he was alone. His friend.

Mike asked the darkness, “Lana?”

A different woman stepped out of the shadows. Where before she glowed with a sun-kissed tan, her skin was now pale and bright as moonlight. Braided golden hair was now layered and wavy and black as a starless night sky. A lithe frame of lean muscle was replaced by sensual, spellbinding curves. A mouth he’d always wanted to kiss, he now wanted to stuff.

Mike recognized her from the church all those nights ago and began to tremble. Her little black dress left nothing to the imagination. He wanted to run. He wanted to pin her down. He needed to flee. He needed to hear her moan his name.

“Little mortal,” her voice dripped like honey and caressed his soul. She closed the final few steps between them and placed her palm on his forehead.

“My name is Liliana. I am the Dark Lady.”

The world unraveled.