Vein of Love (Blackest Gold Book 1) (29 page)

TENSLEY GLOWERED FOR
the fifth time at September following behind him. He stomped through a few dirty puddles and gazed at Abaddon’s manor where it was partly hidden by evergreen trees. Babylon was a dark place. Only demons of the highest class lived there, and it was mostly so that they could carry out their duties to Fallen with ease.

“That portal seriously doesn’t mix well with wine,” September muttered, massaging her stomach.

Tensley casted her a dark look. “You can’t speak a word about its location to anyone, got it?”

“I can’t believe it’s just sitting hidden at City Hall. I mean, it’s abandoned, good place to have it, but really? Just a few fancy Latin words and bam, it’s there!” September waved her hands. “It must get a lot of traffic.”

“High class demons have the ability to produce a portal anywhere, while the rest of us use that one in Manhattan,” Illya explained.

“Is there one in Brooklyn?”

“Shut up and focus,” Tensley snapped.
Like babysitting a bunch of children.
“And stay here.”

“Uh, no.” September pulled on his black jacket and they challenged each other with glares. “We’re coming in with you.”

Tensley ran a hand down his face and shook his head. “Hell no. If you come along, I’ll have to watch your ass too.”

“I can watch my own ass,” September said.

“She has a point, Tensley,” Illya said, the only one not about to burst a blood vessel. “Abaddon could have tons of familiars lurking inside, and we might not be able to take them all out ourselves.”

Tensley eyed him. “Fine. Illya, come. You stay here.” The annoying brat whined and complained as the demons left. September yelled something offensive, but he didn’t bother turning back.

The two approached the manor at godlike speed.

Tensley kicked the door open and found familiars already stationed and guarding the entrance.

“Well, good evening,” he hissed, swinging a leg up to push the first one backward. Illya had snapped two of the others’ necks already and cracked his knuckles as they scanned the entrance. The foyer was dark and gloomy, with granite floors in swirls of black and silver and old portraits on the walls. A grand staircase stood before them.

His adrenaline kicked in, something demons could easily summon, and he searched for the next round of familiars. They were dumb creatures, and didn’t know a damn thing about stealth.

“Tensley,” Illya said, and Tensley noticed the demonic glint in Illya’s eyes. Illya rarely harnessed his supernatural abilities, because he didn’t want to scare any nearby humans. Now, in Babylon, it didn’t matter. “I’m just saying this as a precaution–, but if Abaddon has been with Molly, he’ll be stronger than both of us. We have to think of a better plan.”

He better not lay a fucking hand on her.

Tensley scowled. “I know, Illya. That’s why I have this.” He yanked a sword from one of the dead familiar’s limp hands and grinned. “If I can kick your ass, I can kick his.”

Illya went to challenge that, but doors across the hallway opened and in walked four more familiars. Tensley grasped one by the hair and sliced the sword straight through his chest. The man disintegrated into ashes, and Tensley moved on to the next one.

Someone grabbed his shoulder and swiftly threw him into a glass table, which shattered beneath him. He groaned, rolling over the shards. Tensley looked up into the face of a smug familiar with brown shaggy hair and a ridiculous goatee. The familiar smiled as he approached, and Tensley reached for his sword, realizing a second later that it was across the room.

Fuck.

No worries. He would use his bare hands if he had to. He’d rip the familiar’s throat out—

The familiar paused, eyes wide and mouth going slack. Then he dropped to the floor.

September stood behind him with a bloodied sword in her hands. “Looks like you
did
need our help.”

“I could have fucking killed him with my pinkie.” Tensley rolled his eyes. “Illya, watch out for more familiars.”

Illya nodded, exhaling deeply.

Tensley jogged over and picked up the sword. “And watch
her
.”

September made a face.

Tensley stalked up the grand staircase into the poorly lit hallways, trying to listen for a sound from one of the rooms that might lead him in the right direction.

Then he heard her voice. Her soft, trembling voice.  A door was slightly ajar and he ran to it, pushing it open with both hands. There was a bed. A massive bed and two bodies. Molly stirred underneath Abaddon, tossing her head back and forth. Abaddon kissed her neck roughly and collarbone and rubbed his hand around her thighs and pelvis. His back faced Tensley and he had spread her legs apart, lying in between them. 

Tensley’s skin boiled. A balcony looked out onto a violent night storm and woods that went on for miles. Abaddon chuckled when Molly let out a small whimper.

Tensley squared his jaw and raised his sword. He was trying his best to be quiet and not acting on impulse to murder the disgusting beast.             

“You like it, don’t you?” Abaddon muttered, laughing afterward. “You want me to hurt you. Don’t lie now.” Abaddon slapped her thigh hard and she bit back her cries of pain.

Candles glowed and flickered, and the air was smoky with incense. It didn’t cloud his rage though.

“You want it rough now?” Abaddon’s fat fingers wrapped around Molly’s throat and squeezed.

Molly wheezed.

Tensley didn’t care about being quiet anymore. He jolted forward, thrusting the sword––only to have Abaddon speed out of the way and stand by the balcony. The French doors blew in the wind and the rain thrashed into the room.

Abaddon huffed wildly and wiped his mouth.

“You forget the laws, Abaddon?” Tensley hoped to give him a chance to fess up. Even then, he would still gut him. “Fallen’s seven laws, with number one being that if someone is engaged to another demon,
no one else
is to touch them.”

Abaddon hummed, as if beginning to sing a melody. “I remember.” His chin rose. “I just think Ms. Darling deserves a well-bred mate for her offspring—me. Not some young, weak, middle-class prick.”

Tensley’s hands shook and he rolled them into iron fists. “
I
will be her husband.”

“You haven’t even marked her yet. Turning you a bit soft? You shouldn’t wear your weaknesses so openly, Tensley. Don’t parents discipline their children on this anymore? You have to control it or she’ll be the one controlling you. Tell me…is it father like son? Or brother like brother?” Abaddon laughed, glancing over at Molly. Her chest faintly fluttered and a cloth half concealed her eyes. A strange sensation began to throb in his chest. A corset hugged her torso so tightly, she looked smaller than usual.

Tensley’s nostrils flared.
That damn bastard.

He spun, marching full force towards the redhead beast. “If you so much as—”

An elbow jabbed at Tensley’s face and he was thrown back, up against the wall. With the intense emotions clouding his judgment, he couldn’t concentrate.

“I’m stronger than you, and a higher class,” Abaddon said, thick fingers wrapped around Tensley’s shaking throat.

Tensley thrashed his body once, trying to escape. His sword dropped to the ground. He squared his jaw.

Abaddon beamed. “You know what’s perfect? When you die, no one will truly know what happened. Molly will have always been mine.”

Tensley paused. It all made sense now. “You never told Fallen about her.”

His eyes glowed with pride. “If I told him, he would have gone after her himself or denied my pursuit. She should’ve been
my
betrothed! I deserve her. Fallen thinks he knows how to rule, but if I gained the daemon, I could overthrow him. Make a better society for us.” Abaddon leaned so close, he could make out the small hairs on his face.

Tensley’s chest was full of fire and his hands were unclenching and clenching.

Only one thought raced through his mind.

He’d kill for her.

Tensley’s forehead slammed against Abaddon’s and he went stumbling back. Tensley kicked up his sword to his hand and gained his feet in a rush. Abaddon punched Tensley first across the cheek and then square on his mouth. Tensley tasted the raw blood and he spat, growling.

“Weak boy, she hasn’t even been giving you strength,” Abaddon commented, strolling around him like he was a king and Tensley a servant. “You don’t want to hurt her or just not interested?”

“Shut up.”

“Why haven’t you?” Abaddon voice was harsh, almost angry that Tensley hadn’t. “It’s our right—we are beyond those humans, those daemons. We are the superior race. We have the right to anything we please.”

“I’d stop talking. Might want to keep your energy.” He breathed slowly.

Abaddon cracked his neck and worked his shoulders. “You have to control yourself. Or she’ll be the one controlling you.”

Tensley threw his entire body forward, a snarl leaving his lips. Abaddon dodged his attack and Tensley ended up sliding across the floor to the balcony. His sword was underneath Abaddon’s foot, reflecting onto the ceiling.

Abaddon slyly smiled. “Give up; you’re outmatched. She’s—”

And then Abaddon froze, seizing up. Tensley furrowed his brow. Slowly, Abaddon shifted and revealed Molly, legs trembling as she stood.

“I bite,” she choked, cradling her abnormal angled wrist.

Pure, raw panic plagued Tensley’s chest as he jolted forward.

Abaddon spun and gripped her by her forearm. She flinched, but Abaddon yanked her forward and stabbed his sword deep into her abdomen. “You bitch.”

Molly gasped, swaying on her feet and she collapsed in front of them, her hands frantically searching for something to grasp.

Tensley’s heart seized and all he saw was bloody fucking red.

He sprinted, kicked his sword off the ground, into his grip and drove it deep into Abaddon’s chest. A horrifying shriek left Abaddon’s twitching lips.

“She’s my fiancée,” Tensley hissed, his breathing battling to take over Tensley tightened his grip on the sword in his hand and drove it deep through Abaddon. He made sure the angle was just below the ribcage, using so much force to shatter a bone in hopes of piercing organs. The bastard deserved to suffer. A horrifying shriek left Abaddon’s twitching lips.

He jabbed it deeper, and Abaddon gasped. He gave a final twist before pulling the sword out and dropped him. Abaddon’s limp body hit the floor with a loud thud. “Prick.” Tensley heavily breathed out, running his bloody fingers through his dark, wet mane.

He spun.

Molly was a motionless heap on the marble floor, blood spreading across her middle and streaking down her legs.

Tensley raced over and collapsed next to her. He shook her limp figure. A corset hugged her torso so tightly that she looked even smaller than usual, and she wasn’t breathing. The heavy weight in his chest throbbed violently as panic set in.

“
Molly
.” He patted her cheek, terrified to find it so cold. “Molly, don’t.”

Don’t you fucking die on me.

He flipped her over and saw the threads skillfully woven back and forth on the corset. He ripped it apart, lace and threads fluttering to the ground. Her ribs expanded back to their natural shape.

“Molly?” He nudged her bruised, blood-splattered cheek with his knuckle, noting how his hands shook next to her still frame.

Too still.

Dipping his head, he pressed his lips to her bare shoulder blade. “I need you.”

She gasped.

He abruptly sat up.

Molly gasped again, sucking air in greedily as Tensley rubbed her back, relieved.
If she died
––

A heart-wrenching sob tore him from his thoughts, and he lifted her up. Red marks and bruises lined her body, blood pulsing from a stab wound under her ribcage. Her bra was torn away, exposing her full, supple breasts. Big, pearly tears trickled down her face and over a cut, bleeding lip.