There was nothing I could do to comfort her. The best thing right now would be to get away from her so she can heal and move on. Hell, I shouldn’t have even come to her home in the first place. With a roar of rage and pain that had Nikki sliding down the wall until she was tucked into the corner, I stalked out of her home and sprinted down the street.
I needed to find somewhere dark and private to ride out these emotions until I could change back again.
NIKKI
How long I stayed curled up in the corner like a child, I don’t really know. There was no whirlwind of thoughts running through my mind and no connections being made of all the things I’d found out recently.
In my mind, there was simply nothing.
Because all the space was occupied by the repeating visions of the man I knew as Cade, turning into a terrifying beast and standing before me, apologizing for what he had done, for what he was.
Skin darker than the space between stars, darker than the corner in your room that seems to haunt you at night, teasing the presence of a monster you can’t see. Skin lined with red tattoos that traced across his body in intricate patterns that would be almost beautiful if it weren’t for how they all led to his chest, now a bloodied mess.
But the eyes, the yellow eyes with black slits for pupils, were like a cat’s or some creature from a horror movie. Why did I feel like I could still see Cade behind those eyes? That was impossible. Although he was in that monster somewhere, he was no longer Cade.
And never would be again.
In the afterlife, he came to me.
Had I fucked theDevil?
Eventually, I lifted myself to my feet, my arm shaking as I supported myself against the wall, my body burdened and heavy with dread and confusion. Lurching forward, I stumbled into the kitchen and dropped to my knees, searching the cupboards, barely keeping the contents of my stomach where they should be. There had to be something here, something I could numb my mind with. Because after the period of emptiness, all the thoughts were coming back now, each fighting for a position at the front and demanding to be sorted.
Hell exists. Heaven and Hell. My father was a bad man. He went to Hell. He met Cade there. What of the man who killed him and threatened me? Was he even human? Did Cade know who he was? Should I keep trying to find the murderer? The truth always comes out. If this was the truth, I didn’t want it. But I needed to find justice. For who? Me? My father? I never even knew him.
I sobbed, biting the inside of my cheek to stop the sound.
Did anything even matter anymore?
With a sigh of relief, I wrapped my fingers around the dusty glass neck of the whiskey bottle. I hated whiskey, which was why the gifted bottle after my graduation from the academy remained untouched in the cupboard. But right now, I needed something,anything,to stop the thoughts. I didn’t want to think or feel, and when I cracked open the lid, I ignored the smell that made my nose scrunch as I raised the bottle to my lips and tookhalf a dozen grateful mouthfuls of the liquid.
Barely avoiding dropping the bottle, I leaned back against the opposite cupboard and coughed against the burn in my throat. Apparently, aging cheap whiskey does nothing to improve it.
I drank. Not caring that I hadn’t eaten in a while and that my aversion to dark spirits meant my tolerance was low. I simply kept drinking. After a short while, the press of the cupboard handle in between my shoulder blades was nothing more than a memory, and my eyelids started to droop.
Eventually, I’d pass out, and then tomorrow, I would have enough whiskey left to keep me numb until I made it to the liquor store, thankfully within walking distance. I had the urge to drive to the graveyard to see my father because I wasn’t sure if I wanted to scream at the ground and simply hope his spirit in Hell below his rotting body in the soil could hear me or if I wanted to punch at the gravestone until my knuckles bled. Maybe I’d take my new best friends, in the shape of bottles of numbing goodness, with me and continue this stupor.
How long could I go on like this?
It didn’t matter.
I couldn’t even think about dealing with this shit now or any time soon.
I had just enough awareness left to put the bottle down before I dropped it, as my vision slowly grayed from the edges, moving inward until the entire room felt like it was rolling around me.
Maybe I’d choke on my vomit and die while unconscious.
Then I’d see Cade and Hell, and he could explain to me why he ruined my life.
CADE
Frank was fed up with my attitude before the phone call had ended. He usually treated me with a certain level of humor, being as I was younger and, therefore, arguably more immature than him. Granted, I had called him when I already had too much shit going on in my head, and I’d practically shouted at him when he tried to make small talk.
All I needed to know was when he was next at the fight club.
Tonight.
Since the horrific encounter with Nikki yesterday, I hadn’t slept, eaten, or rested at all. It had taken hours for the emotions to get to a point where I could stabilize them enough to change back into my human form, and I hadn’t tried to keep inside the howls of agony and heartache that escaped my already aching throat. The wound on my chest had almost healed, although I was now left with scars that vaguely resembled a pentagram and looked as though I’d been attacked with a rusty sword over it.These scars wouldn’t go away, not even in my human form. They would be there to forever remind me of my betrayal and that I could never go home.
