Chapter Sixty-Two
Michael glanced over his shoulder, and the two men who’d been standing motionless and quiet behind the couch came forward. But Michael stayed where he was, affording Angel a respite from his draining effect on her.
So Angel pooled all of her willpower and forced herself to her feet. She prepared to fight, regardless of the motes of light swimming in her vision. If she was going down, she was going down swinging.
When they tried to flank her, Angel reacted, going low with a weak scoop kick to the man’s forward leg. He easily deflected it, keeping his balance. But in doing so, he adjusted his back leg, drawing it further out and giving her the opening she actually wanted. With much more strength, Angel swept in with a low cut kick to the backs of both of his legs, taking them out from underneath him. He went down hard on his back as his companion closed in on the other side.
But Angel’s blood was pumping now, feeding endorphins and oxygen to her heart and clearing her head. She looked over her shoulder and met the second man’s gaze just to give herself direction. Then she turned her body, spinning again with a reverse crescent kick that slammed into the side of her opponent’s face. His head snapped to the side, and his body leaned heavily in response. Angel used that momentum to strike from the other direction, knowing the impact would be that much greater.
She turned the other way and simply did the same thing again, but with her other leg, snapping his head to the opposite side so hard that he staggered several steps and hit the wall.
Angel hadn’t forgotten about the first man. She faced him just in time for him to go for her throat with an angry fist. She jerked back and used both of her arms to trap his at the elbow. Then she pulled her entire body downward, knocking him off balance. Next, she rose viciously, his arm still trapped between hers, and twisted away from him – until she heard the cracking sound that told her his elbow was broken.
Oddly enough, the man made little noise. He only gritted his teeth and gave a small growl, faltering back several steps.
And then Angel heard the clapping. It was slow and hard, and it drew Angel to a confused halt. The men she’d attacked straightened up and stepped away from her.
Angel turned toward Michael. He was applauding her. And it was distinctly clear to Angel now that the two men who were with him were under some kind of spell. She wondered if they were even human. I wonder if they’re even alive, she amended. It was like they were puppets. Puppets made of meat.
“Feel better?” Michael asked her as his men returned to his side of the room, taking up their positions behind him once more. Angel heard a terrible snapping sound and realized the broken elbow of the man she’d attacked had just repaired itself. There was no sign whatsoever that either of them were in pain or had even been attacked.
Both men came to a standstill like secret service agents, legs spread, shoulders back, hands clasped calmly before them. They watched her in silence, their eyes once more cold and devoid of emotion.
What the ever loving –
Michael shrugged. “I thought you might want one last go at flexing your muscle. You’ve always been a stubborn woman, so desperate for some semblance of control over every little thing in your life.” He smiled knowingly. “And since I will be taking that control from you for good, I wanted you to enjoy a final hoorah.”
Angel felt what little hope she’d had for escape quietly get up from the table, dust its hands off, and leave the room.
“I trust it was satisfying?” Michael asked, watching her closely, his smile enigmatic. And then he grew serious and stepped forward. “Now then, shall we get down to business?” His smile vanished, and his light gray eyes flashed with untold power.
Angel cried out as her body was lifted and thrown backward. She hit the wall hard enough to knock the wind from her lungs and send stars into her vision. She moaned in pain, closing her eyes against the sudden disorientation. But in that darkness, she felt Michael take hold of her hand and unclench her fingers.
“No!” she ground out through gritted teeth. She tried to pull away from him but she was being held completely immobile, every single inch of her body strapped to the wall by invisible ropes of warlock magic.
She felt the ring slide easily onto her ring finger, and she wanted to scream. How could her subjugation have been that fucking easy? But Angel’s brow furrowed when nothing happened. She found that despite the ring, she still hated Michael as much as she had before he’d put it on her.
Michael laughed, clearly amused at what must have been surprise showing on her features. She opened her eyes. He was mere inches away from her, his power holding her far enough off the floor that they were eye to eye. He showed her a small but satisfied smirk, his inhuman eyes giving off a slight glow.
“We’re only getting started, Angel. Remember, you wore that ring for ten years and nothing happened then either. That’s because it’s not even part of the ritual. I only needed it to lay the trap.”
What trap….
“The perfect circle, love? Did you think that was just for fun?”
The perfect circle…. Angel thought of the ring of dead bodies on the map. Her apartment at the center. The blood drained from her face as she put the pieces together in her mind.
“Blood had to be spilled,” he told her, his eyes roving over her face to her neck. “Everything had to be arranged with precise care.” His eyes wandered lower, raking across her chest. “And I knew that to protect you, Voronin would unwittingly oblige me in my machinations. I contrived each delicious death, Angel.” He dropped his gaze to her waist, seeming to want to take all of her in. “I manipulated every single act of bloodshed. Until at last, the circle was drawn.” He looked up again, catching her eyes with his. “The trap was laid. And finally, all I had to do was wait for you to transport one last time.”
The circle, Angel lamented. The damn circle… it even reminded me of him! And I still didn’t see. I never would have guessed.
“When I spoke the words of the spell that locked the trap into place, I needed to be holding a ring – one that had touched the object of my desire,” he explained to her. “And that was why I had to take it back from you all those years ago. For what it’s worth, I’ve wanted to return it ever since. I like seeing it on you, Angel.” He placed his hands on either side of her head and leaned forward to whisper his next words across her lips. “Like a brand marking my property.”
“Fuck you, Michael,” she hissed, desperate to throw something in his face – anything.
But Michael simply smiled as if he’d expected nothing less. “I promise we’ll get to that, sweetheart.” Then he glanced at her arms where they were stretched helpless and bound at her sides. “Now, you don’t have a scythe mark like mine, and you’re not a warlock, so this marriage calls for a little creativity.” He leaned in again to whisper. “I bet you didn’t know that Withered could create other Withered, did you? And you, with all that warden training.” He shook his head.
As she watched, his fangs became more pronounced, growing longer and sharper. She froze, unable to look away; it was horribly fascinating. “All it takes is a little evil, the ever necessary exchange of blood, and a whole lot of dark power.” He laughed. The laughter grew and began to echo off the walls. When he spoke again, his voice had taken on new dimension. “It’s going to be one hell of a honeymoon.”
With that, he kissed her. His lips slammed down onto hers with brute force, sending rivulets of pain and revulsion through her. She would have bucked against him if not for the bands of magic strapping her so securely to the wall. As it was, she cried out against him, but he simply swallowed the sound as he brutalized her tongue and his teeth tore at her lips. When tears brimmed her eyes, Michael broke the kiss and pulled back.
Angel cried out again though, this time in fear. Michael’s eyes were now solid red from corner to corner and they flickered at their centers as if they were literally on fire. Angel’s blood stained his lips, adding to his hellish appearance.
“Semper mea, aeternum mea, tantum mea,” he said. His voice had further altered, growing so deep his words vibrated the foundations of the apartment. It sounded like there was more than one of him, and his copies were everywhere, speaking the same words he was, echoing them back at him in that same demonic tone.
Angel shivered violently as he continued.
“Sanguis sanitatum, sanguin sacris….”
The weakness was back, stealing over her and sending her head swimming. She made a helpless sound and her head dropped backward. She no longer possessed the strength to hold it up.
Michael moved in at once, his strong arms pressing into the wall to cage her in. His lips continued to give voice to his evil spell, speaking his terrible words a mere breath away from her mouth. She felt those words brush past her lips, stinging like needles.
“Tantum mea, aeternum mea, semper mea.”
She felt the crux of it then. It was unlike anything she had ever experienced. It was wrongness, and it was moving around her, sliding along her skin, trying to find a way in.
No… No!
Michael laughed one final time, then he thrust his fingers through her hair, pressed his body against hers, and sank his fangs into her throat. Angel let loose with a piercing scream that filled the room and spilled into the universe beyond.