Page 28
Story: Love’s Ace
Chapter 28
Theo
G etting instructions on how to clean up dead bodies was the strangest thing I’d ever experienced.
I’d killed people before. I’d told Wren as much, so it wasn’t like I was ashamed of it.
When I’d done it, though, I’d left them in the street and banked on the fact that they weren’t good people, that I’d be able to get away with it because no one was going to give a shit about what happened to them.
We’d showered and slept, then spent the rest of the day at the house hoping that Erin was just as much of an asshole as I remembered. When I’d lived with him, no one had ever really come to bother us. If they had, Erin was usually too drugged out of his mind to bother opening the door. I was banking on the fact that not much had changed, because that meant we could wait until it was safe to head back to try and clean up the mess we’d left behind.
“I’m not coming to help.” Gethin’s voice came in loud and clear through the phone, and I glared in Wren’s direction. For someone he seemed to consider a very good friend, Gethin was extremely intent on making sure he never helped Wren with anything important.
I could understand, though—the vision of his shoulders, of those scars digging so viciously into his flesh was burned into the back of my mind.
The image of that happening to Wren because of me…
I had to swallow down the thought. I would just make sure it didn’t happen. That’s the only thing I could do.
He loved me.
Fuck, someone loved me. I didn’t realize that would be something I’d guard so fiercely, so violently.
I didn’t realize it was something I was willing to fight for.
Love had never been in the cards for me until Wren. I was still in disbelief that he’d even said it, that he really meant it.
I was even more shocked that I’d said it back without fear, without question, like I’d been incapable of doing anything else.
This had all been inevitable, from the second we’d met… It was still impossible to reconcile the fact that it had barely been a week with the way it felt like every moment of my life had started when I met him.
“I know, Gethin. You aren’t going to help. You aren’t going to come anywhere near us. You’re going to be a hermit in your graveyard forever. Got it. But what the fuck do I do about…” Wren’s eyes glanced around, and his lips pressed together for a second before he spoke. “So many pieces?”
There was silence on the other end of the call, and a sigh. “How many pieces exactly?”
“I…” Wren looked around almost helplessly.
They were everywhere . The people who had hurt me were everywhere , and I was beginning to wonder if it would be better to scrape up what we could and set the house on fire. My fingers trailed the length of his spine, and he sighed as he leaned back against me.
“Wren?”
“I can’t count. It’s a lot.”
“Fuck, I thought I was the one who was supposed to make a mess. Look… you might need to torch the place after you clean up. The cops might still look into it, but at least the people who matter won’t.”
The people who matter—the people who could hurt Wren.
Did cupids even have fingerprints?
“Helpful. Really helpful.”
“If you’d really wanted my help, you would have called me before you killed people. I know how to make someone suffer without leaving behind blood and bones, you asshole.”
It took me a second to realize Gethin had hung up, and another second to process what he’d said.
Fuck, he really was a killer, wasn’t he?
Wren shoved his phone into his jacket pocket and looked around, his mouth setting into a line.
“What do you want to do?” I whispered. His gaze swept around the mess he’d made one more time before he grunted and headed toward the kitchen.
“I guess we see if they have garbage bags? Get up as much as we can… torch the rest and watch it burn. Gethin was right. If we clean up enough, the only people who are going to care are the cops, and they don’t really matter.” He paused, and I could almost tell the question on his tongue pained him. “Did this asshole have any cameras around or anything when you were here before?”
The sting I was waiting for didn’t come. The sharp pain that fluttered to panic when I thought about the time I’d spent here with Erin…
Maybe it was because I could see Erin’s head on one side of the room and one of his hands on the other.
Whatever the reason, the pain wasn’t there. I wondered if Wren realized, as monstrous as the deed had been, it actually had accomplished what he’d wanted.
I hadn’t exactly had time to tell him when I’d been trying to bring him back to himself.
“Hey.” I caught his hand as he stood, turning him to me. “Thank you.”
He paused, his dark brows snapping together in confusion.
“For what?”
The corner of my mouth lifted into a small smile. It probably wasn’t a normal thing to thank someone for, was it? But… “For this? For what you did? For literally tearing apart the demon of my past and giving me his heart? I never thought I’d be able to step foot in this house again without breaking down or feeling like the world was going to fall apart. It’s…” I wasn’t sure how to explain it, to really put a weight or measure to what it meant. “Just… thank you.”
Wren shook from my hold so he could slide his hand along my chest and press his fingers to the space there where I knew that darkness still lingered—the space where the thread connected us.
The touch made him sway, but he didn’t seem to mind it as much.
Maybe I didn’t have to find the words for what anything meant, because I could see the reflection of my emotions in his eyes, in the softness of his smile.
“Always, Theo.”
Always.
Every time he said that word, something in me felt like it was melting, like it was changing everything inside me.
Every time he said it, something inside me wondered how I’d ever thought I was even breathing before I met him.
I pressed forward and brushed my mouth against his like I could seal the word with a kiss, let it travel down to add another strand to the thread connecting us.
Instead, he swiped his tongue across my lower lip and pushed me back.
“We should really handle this before we get distracted.”
This. This being my ex and his many, many pieces.
“Right.” I grabbed the garbage bags and tossed one to him. “Okay. Though… I really should be careful. You might not be in any database, but I’m very human.” I lifted my hand to wiggle my fingers. “Fingerprints.”
“We’ll take care of it.”
Did cupids have a connection with the police?
I was about to ask him when the words caught on the back of my tongue. Something felt wrong.
Off.
I knew Wren sensed it, too, because his hand instantly went for the bow on his back.
“Theo, you should—”
“I’m not going anywhere.” I snapped it out just as the front door burst open.
I wasn’t sure what I was expecting, but the sight of a human woman with crimson eyes running into the room wasn’t it. She snarled, all sharp teeth and black nails. Wren raised his bow at the same time someone else charged into the house.
This wasn’t an Enmity—it was a man, standing tall, with dark hair pulled back into a tail and violet eyes sharp and alert… and then going wide when they landed on Wren.
On Wren’s chest.
On the thread trailing from it, and straight into me.
“Wren? What the—” The woman he’d chased seemed to notice her pursuer was distracted, because she whirled and swiped at him, and I realized I was seeing exactly what was happening to me unfold before my eyes. Her shoulders snapped back, and the wings that sprang from her skin came in a burst of crimson and black fluid. She stumbled and snarled, and the loss of balance was enough that the cupid in front of her raised his bow.
When she dove for him again, Wren moved forward to help—and when Wren moved, I moved.
I should have realized it was all a mistake. I’d grown used to the way I looked—the black nails, the red swirl in my eyes.
But the cupid…
The cupid had no idea what I was, what Wren had done.
He fired an arrow, but it wasn’t at the woman in front of him—it took me square in the shoulder and tore a snarl from my chest that made my vision go white.
Wren screamed in pain, in fury . And I felt that spark in my body again—that darkness trying to leap from me to him. Now that it had found a pathway, it seemed eager to return to his chest, to eat away at him from the inside out.
I didn’t know if I could bring him back from it again, I didn’t know if I’d be able to keep him safe if he lost his head—not when there was another cupid here and they were trained to kill everything trying to ruin us both.
There was really only one option.
I took a deep breath and let go. If I took all that darkness into myself, it wouldn’t need to go to Wren.
I felt it before I saw it—the black crawling up my arms, sinking beneath and swirling in my veins. I tried not to, but a scream tore from my chest, tapering off into a growling roar that sounded completely inhuman.
It was better this way. I was built for this. Some part of me wondered if I was always supposed to become this.
And Wren…
Well, Wren didn’t have to worry about what would happen if my darkness truly tainted him.
I charged forward, throwing myself at the creature on top of the cupid before I completely lost my mind. The best thing I could do would be to fight for Wren, to make sure he was as safe as possible. And maybe, if I completely lost myself, he’d find a way to explain it to the asshole who’d shot me.
When I heard a scuffle and Wren letting out a low, snarling curse, I realized that wasn’t happening.
They were fighting .
I was sure there were some kind of horrible repercussions for a cupid fighting another cupid. I couldn’t remember if I’d heard him mention it, or if it was something that I’d read… but I was sure of it.
The word stop was caught somewhere in the back of my chest when the woman in front of me snarled and swiped at me again, sending a streak of pain across my body that echoed the agony as the cupid Wren was fighting cut his arm with a knife.
I had to try to block out what he was feeling—every blow he took was one that made me want to pivot, to forget my quarry so I could protect him.
I had to trust that he could handle what was in front of him so I could make sure to take care of what was behind.
It was the only way we were going to get out of this… and if I had to, if I could kill the thing I was fighting while I still had my mind about me, I could turn on that feathered bastard too.
Rip the wings from the spine.
Tear apart anything that hurt Wren.
Wren .
Even as my vision narrowed into a crackling focus of fury and darkness, somehow I could still remember his name. I snarled it as I struck out, grabbing hold of the woman in front of me and throwing her into the wall, filling the room with the splintering sound of crumbling plaster.
I screamed it when my fingers found her stomach and I started clawing into her skin like I meant to find the woman that she’d been so I could pull her free from the monster she was becoming.
Because that woman was still there—I could see it in her face.
Could see it in her eyes.
If there was a way to save me, there was probably a way to save her too.
It didn’t matter. She was a threat .
Her claws tore into my shoulder at the same time another arrow grazed my thigh, a white hot sear of pain that I ignored. And then I saw it—the moment her gaze focused on my chest, on the bright light spilling from it… I remembered how furious the sight of the two men made me back in the alley, and I snarled. When she grabbed hold of the red thread and pulled, Wren screamed .
My vision blurred, and the burst of strength that spilled through me felt better than any drug I’d ever taken. My hands found her throat and squeezed—squeezed until my fingers were covered in black blood and she was limp on the ground.
One more body in the room.
I whirled around to see a frenzy of feathers behind me.
Wren fighting. Wren bloody.
Wren, weaker than he should have been because the line between us seemed to make me stronger while it broke him down.
And like the cupid could sense it too, he grabbed the thread and pulled.
Wren’s eyes went wide, his face pale, and he crumpled.
My vision went black, and I pounced.
Feathers.
Feathers and blood and screaming. I couldn’t think around the rage pouring through me, couldn’t taste anything but copper on my tongue and the need to make sure that anyone—anything—that touched my soulmate was torn to shreds, to nothing. To blood and bone, shards and feathers and nothing .
I didn’t realize he was dead until I felt a hand on my shoulder.
Not Wren, because Wren was still on the ground.
Whoever it was, he was tall, and his eyes were such a pale violet they seemed almost clear.
Prismatic.
And they widened when they trailed down to Wren.
To the thread between us.
I’d kill him too .
I’d kill anyone I had to if it meant I could keep Wren safe.
When I swung at the stranger, he caught my wrist, and the strength of his grip was paralyzing. His light brows drew together, and he used his free hand to pick a bloody feather from my fingertips.
“You’re lucky you’re tied to him, beast.”
His voice was cold, then his hand was on my throat. He squeezed, and the air went out of me.
He squeezed, and my arms still tried to work, to strike out at him.
To keep him away from Wren.
When his wings suddenly sprang out in a burst of white light so bright I was blinded, I felt my knees give out. There was one word on my tongue.
Just one.
Wren.