Touched by Death: (Sins of The Fallen book 3)

My lungs burn as I flee down hallway after hallway.

Behind me, Daemon’s dark voice disturbs the pounding of my heartbeat in my ears. They prick to hear his taunting threat. “There’s nowhere to hide, little witch.”

As I escape into the ballroom, my pounding footsteps on the expansive marble flooring echo loudly. Overhead, a domed ceiling that’s covered in detailed paintings of fallen angels and battles looms like a gaping, vast void. The maroon curtains have been tied back to let the moon cast streaks across the cold floor, and its ethereal glow surrounds me like a misty fog in an enchanted forest. I spin around, my hair flying around me, and look back at the large doors. There’s no sign of Daemon yet, so I dart left to hide behind one of the large marble pillars. Seconds pass and then the heavy creak announces his arrival.

With my heart in my throat, I close my eyes, cursing my hiding place. I’ll have no choice but to run again. But where? I look over at the windows again. All the other ones have been boarded shut except for these. I could break the glass and flee into the night. But what would I use? The room is void of items.

“I can hear your fluttering heartbeat, little angel.”

My hand flies up to my mouth to stifle the frightened whimper that threatens to give away my hiding place. Daemon’s heavy footsteps sound on the floor, followed by the soft rustle of his wings and his enticing, toe-curling chuckle. More footsteps follow, and Ronan’s voice sends my heart skyrocketing. “Let’s spread out.”

“What’s it like?” Daemon asks me with a hint of dark humor in his voice. “To be hunted like a helpless, pathetic little mouse? You’re trapped, Aurelia. There’s nowhere left to hide. No option but to step out from your hiding spot and submit.”

Fuck him. I grind my teeth, lowering my hand from my mouth.

A soft peal of feminine laughter drifts through the silence to stroke over my bare legs in a ghosting touch. “We’re gonna fuck you hard, little angel. Your tears won’t save you now—” Dariana is abruptly cut off, and the sudden, intrusive silence sends my heartbeat into overdrive. Hand on the pillar, I chance a look around the corner. Daemon scents the air once, twice, and then everything about him falls eerily still, like the last ripple on a glassy pond.

The others stiffen too, sensing the shift in the air. How the playfulness morphs into dangerous intent. “That fucker!” Daemon growls out. “I should have known.”

“What’s wrong?” Dariana asks carefully while Daemon walks deeper into the room, closer to where I’m hiding.

Panic holds me in its grip with deeply buried talons that refuse to let go. I need to run, but where the fuck to? I’m trapped.

“My father…” Daemon says, stopping and spinning in a circle while breathing in the air. His head snaps in my direction, and I startle with a gasp.

Darting my gaze around, I spot a nearby door that leads to the secret passageways. Without thinking it through, I make a run for it. In my panic, I tumble to the floor. My knees take the impact, but I’m too high on adrenaline to notice the throb that blooms in my kneecaps. I’m back up in the next second, running like my life depends on it.

Wrenching open the door, I escape inside, slam it shut, and slide the bolt into place just as Daemon’s weight crashes into the wood. With a yelp, I stumble back. The dark passageway is so narrow that I can’t stretch my arms out to either side of me. I tuck my wings close to my body, cursing the potion Lucifer fed me. Unable to conjure my fire magic, I resort to inhaling a deep breath. I focus my mind on the light. A flash of it explodes in the passageway, blinding me for a brief second before it settles back down. It’ll take me a long time to learn how to manipulate it properly.

I hold my hand up like a torch and glance behind me. Daemon drives his boot into the door, sending a cloud of dust into the air.

“Shit,” I whimper, turning back around and setting off down the hallway with no idea where these secret passageways lead. The walls feel as if they’re closing in, and my shaky breaths puff out in front of me in the damp, cold air. I swallow back a pathetic sob and move forward. Something soft scurries past my ankle, causing me to cry out and jump back against the damp wall. The light dims for a brief moment, descending the small space into darkness. My heart thuds heavily in my chest, each individual beat grinding out a tune of despair and unbridled fear. I focus on my breathing. Deep inhales. Deep exhales.

Pushing off the wall, I put more focus on the light to make it glow brighter. The shadows dart back in response, hissing and spitting in front of and behind me.

I come to a fork in the tunnel and make a swift decision to turn right. The air grows colder as whispered, ghostly voices slither down my spine. Sweat beads on my neck, and strands of my long hair stick to my skin.

My hesitant yet rushed steps slow. Up ahead, on the dirty ground, is a metal tray with pillar candles.

Four in total.

The flames barely flicker, as still and calm as the chilling silence in the air. I walk closer, unable to take my eyes off that tray of candles. The sinister whispers grow louder, while imaginary hands reach through the walls to grapple at my arms. Torn nails scratch and claw at my exposed skin.

I come to a stop in front of the candles and peer down with my heart in my throat and a potent taste of fear on my tongue.

“Go back,” a voice of reason whispers in my ear.

I pay it no attention.

Not when my gaze snags on the door to my left. With a thick swallow, I reach for the handle and push down. The hinges creak loudly in the thick silence.

Peering inside the dark, gaping space, I hesitate. A whisper of cold air greets me as I step over the threshold and shine my light over the small space. Photographs of me cover every inch of the walls. Photographs of me chained naked with my wings bound.

Pushed up against the wall sits a small wooden desk. To the side is a mattress with crumpled, dirty sheets and a pillow that’s been tossed to the floor.

Moving closer to the desk, I pick up a notebook. Angry, scrawled handwriting litters every page, like the rantings of a madman.

Then there was her. A fucking angel amongst demons.

At first, I planned to kill her to hurt him. To take away his forbidden secret obsession. But now, I want it all. I want my revenge. I want her.

I flip more pages while my heart continues beating out an erratic rhythm inside me. Whoever my stalker is has stayed here, right under our noses. Maybe he’s still here? Inside the house?

Placing the book down with trembling hands, I turn, only to let out a scream. Warm hands clamp down on my shoulders, and Dmitriy hauls me close. “What the fuck is this place?”

For a brief moment, I cling to his T-shirt and hold him close. Then, as I peer up at him, fear claws its way up my constricted throat. I shove him off and stumble back. “How did you know about this place?”

Confused, he opens his mouth to speak, but I cut him off. “It’s you. You’re the stalker.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“You’re the fucking stalker, Dmitriy,” I all but scream as my hands fly up to fist my hair. He takes a step toward me, but I dart back onto the mattress, the soft fabric sinking beneath my weight. “You kidnapped me.”

Watching me uncomprehendingly, he starts to speak, but then his attention gets diverted by the notebook on the desk. Walking past me, he picks it up and scans the pages. As he flips through it, the rustling sound disturbs the silence. I contemplate making a run for it, but something keeps me rooted to the spot. His eyes flick to the photographs on the walls, and he turns in a circle, taking them all in. “We need to tell Daemon.”

When he turns to me, I press back against the wall. “Don’t come any closer.” Images of the masked stalker assault my mind in the ensuing silence that chokes my shaky plea.

“Aurelia?” Dmitriy whispers, stepping closer, but he stops when I whimper. “You don’t think I did this, do you?” He points at the photographs. “You’re not accusing me of stalking you, right? That’s not what this is?”

“Why are you here?”

“Why am I here?” His lips purse, confusion written all over his face. “I saw you turn down this hallway.”

“You just happened to be around, lurking in some secret passageways?”

“The fuck?” he chokes out before a short burst of harsh, incredulous laughter rips from his lips. When he looks at me, all traces of humor evaporate like a morning mist. With a jab of his finger in the direction of the wall, he says tersely, “I did not do this!”

“Then who, Dmitriy? Who else knows about these passageways?”

“Everyone!” he shouts. “Everyone knows. It’s what the servants use to get around.”

“The servants?”

“Have you never wondered why you never see them?”

Tears spring to my eyes the longer he glares at me. The truth is that I have wondered.

“Have you forgotten that Lucifer is my uncle? While my father and uncle despise each other, they are civil enough. I know this house like the back of my hand, and so does Daemon.”

“Why would you use the passageways?”

“I was tracking you. Do you think Daemon would take kindly to me being around you? Especially after sex? Come on, Aurelia. You’re an angel. You know better. Males are the most possessive right after a claiming.”

I look away but then squeeze my eyes shut when I’m met by hundreds of photographs of myself. “I want to get out of here,” I whisper into the silence.

Stepping closer, his boots sink into the mattress, and he corners me against the wall. With an almost impossible gentleness, so in contrast with how the masked stalker forced himself on me, he strokes his fingers through the tears on my cheeks. “It pains me that you have so little trust in me.”

“I don’t trust anyone anymore,” I admit, opening my eyes.

A muscle tics in his jaw, and with a final sigh, he steps away and musses up his hair at the front. “You’re smart.” His dark eyes find mine. “You shouldn’t trust anyone but yourself.”

As urgent footsteps sound in the hallway, I swipe at my cheeks. “I don’t even trust myself. Not while the shadows are with me.”

“They always will be.”

“You should go,” I tell him when he scans the photographs. “Escape while you can.”

Dmitriy looks at me, and I decide to trust the vulnerability that shines through the darkness that peers back at me.

“They’ll come to the same conclusion I did if they find you here.”

With a shake of his head, he replies, “I’ll face my cousin if it makes you feel safer.”

“They’ll kill you. Contract or no contract.”

“Do you believe I did this?” he asks, turning his body to face me fully. “Because if you do, I’ll stay.”

“Why are you doing this, Dmitriy?” I ask, a hint of urgency sneaking into my tone. “Why won’t you run?”

As he stares at me from across the dark room, I hold my breath. There’s something in that intense look that strips me bare. Then, as if he makes his mind up, he crosses the room in three strides, grabs my face, and puts his lips on mine.

Everything stops.

Every fucking thing.

“From the moment you entered my world,” he whispers against my tingling lips, “you turned it on its axis. I don’t understand what it is about you or why you make me feel this way. But know this, I’ll wait. I don’t care how long it’ll take. One day, my cousin will accept me into the fold. And when that day comes, you better be ready for me.”

Then he’s gone, exiting the room and blending with the shadows. Tears bead on my lashes, and I bring my fingers to my swollen lips where his kiss lingers, whispering secrets to my aching heart. I’m so confused.

I don’t get to give it any further thought because Daemon, Alaric, Ronan, and Dariana stumble into the room and draw to an abrupt halt. Eyes scanning over the walls, Daemon curses, all thoughts of the chase gone.

“Shit,” Ronan says shakily, turning in a slow circle. His eyes find mine as I tremble on the mattress. “Are you okay?”

Am I?

Casting a quick glance at the doorway, I swipe my tongue across my bottom lip, tasting the remaining dampness of Dmitriy’s kiss.

Ronan kills the distance between us and hugs me to him while Daemon and Alaric inspect every inch of the room.

My eyes lock on Dariana, who clenches her jaw. The worry in her gaze tells me she’s scared for me. The lengths my stalker is willing to go to secure his need for revenge. Our enemies are mounting, and it’s only a matter of time before something happens to shatter our illusion of fragile safety.

I know. I’ve been there before.

“Babe…” Ronan’s voice steals my attention. He cups my chin and presses his lips to mine, replacing the memory of Dmitriy with his own biting kiss.

I let him taste me. I let him push me up against the photographs and growl into my mouth.

“What do you think?” Alaric asks Daemon as he rips down a photograph and tosses it to the floor.

Daemon grinds his teeth so tightly at the sight of me bound, naked, and chained that I worry he’ll damage his teeth. When he finally speaks, his voice drips with spine-chilling evil. “He better pray someone else gets to him before I do because I’m his worst fucking nightmare. No one hurts my angel and gets away with it.”

“Can you pick up on anything?” Dariana asks, looking away from me.

“He’s not been here for a while. His scent is faint but familiar.”

“Familiar?”

Daemon turns, and his eyes cruise over me, lingering on my bare thighs where his father’s dried cum marks me. “He’s masking his scent on purpose.”

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Daemon takes one final, long look at the room. “I’ll inform my father. He’ll have this room scoured from floor to ceiling for evidence.” His dark gaze lands on me with the charged air of an inbound storm. “Take her upstairs, scrub her clean of my father, and tie her to my damn bed.”

Dariana clears her throat. “Last time we tied her to a bed, she escaped.”

“Good point,” he muses, and I stiffen when a cruel smile unfurls on his lips. “Take her downstairs and throw her into one of the cellars.”

“What the fuck?” I blurt, eyes wide. “The cellars?”

“Welcome back to Hell, little angel.”