Premonition of Peace (Her Immortal Monsters #3)

Chapter 3

three

MARCEL

The water from the showerhead pounded against my skin, the hot spray doing little to alleviate the deep, relentless ache in my bones. I leaned heavily against the cool tile, letting the water run over me, trying to will the pain away. Gods, it hurt like hell. Everything did at this point.

I tried hard not to show it, especially around Nat, but this shit was breaking me. Had been for a long time now. She had enough to worry about without adding my suffering to the list. In moments like this though, when I was alone, it was impossible to ignore. The mask I wore for her and for the world dissipated, leaving me vulnerable and exposed. It was getting harder and harder to push through the pain.

I loved Nat more than anything. She believed she could find a solution, but I knew better than to pin a single hope on that. She wasn’t the first to try and so far, luck was never on my side. This affliction—this curse—had no cure. My magic was eating my body alive from the inside out. I was dying, closer and closer to crossing the veil every day and I was trying like mad to accept it. But it was hard. So damn hard.

There was still so much I felt needed to be done, especially with Nathalie. She finally knew about my past, my sickness, about her mother’s manipulations. She knew about the way I had been forced into situations against my will. She knew the truth now. Which meant I finally could move past it with her. But to do that I needed time, and time was the one thing I didn’t have.

Letting out a slow, shaky breath, I braced my hands against the walls and steadied myself before I was ready to get out. Turning off the water, I stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around my waist. My reflection in the mirror caught my eye, and I pressed my teeth together, pointedly ignoring the man in the mirror. I barely recognized him.

A knock at the door pulled me from my thoughts.

I pulled on a pair of gray sweatpants that hung a little looser around my waist than normal. The knocking continued fiercely, and I sighed as I pulled my glamour around me, letting it settle over me like a sheen of oil. Uncomfortable, for certain, but familiar at this point. I’d worn it for so long, I didn’t even know how to fully feel like myself without it.

“Coming,” I called, lumbering for the door with stiff joints. When I peeped through the eyehole, I saw Nathalie standing there wearing dark jeans and a tightly fitted Nine Inch Nails t-shirt. I wasn’t familiar with the band, but that didn’t mean much. She enjoyed every genre of music, and I couldn’t keep up.

“Nat, hey,” I greeted, trying to sound less out of breath. “What can I do for you?” I lifted an arm to lean against the doorframe. My glamour shifted, showing the muscle I should have had in my biceps. Nat’s light brown eyes flicked toward it for a fraction of a second then back down, her cheeks turning a shade pink.

“Hey, Marcel, um . . . is August here?”

“No,” I said, my voice a little harder than intended. I fixed my tone before I continued. “I can tell him you came by?—”

She shook her head, a slight look of relief crossing her face when she cut me off. “No, I’m here to see you. I was just, uh, curious if he was around. There’s a lot going on with Sasha right now.”

“Oh . . .” I tried not to let the fact that she wasn’t here to see him please me too much. I wasn’t dumb. I knew I had a hill to climb, greater than the other guys vying for her attention. But I would be damned if I gave up before the grave took me.

She looked at me with an amused expression. “You gonna let me in or . . .?”

I stepped to the side, and she moved past me, giving me a hint of her jasmine and lilac scent. Closing the door, I followed behind her, unable to stop myself from watching the sway of her hips. It was impossible to forget what that ass felt like clutched in my hands as I pinned her to the shelves in her parents’ library, fucking her like I owned her. I did. Past tense.

The thought bothered me more than almost anything because I would give anything to own her again.

“What’s up?” I asked as we sat on the cushions across from each other. “Not that I’m not happy you’re here, but you look tense.”

And she did. There was a stiff set to her shoulders and a stormy look to her gaze that I couldn’t make sense of. She looked at me, guarded, as we sat across from each other on the couch. Repressing a groan, I uncomfortably adjusted in the seat.

“Nothing that we need to get into right now,” she said quickly, changing topics before I could speak. “We need to talk about your condition.”

“I’d rather not and say we did,” I retorted sarcastically, before sobering.

“You’re wearing a glamour,” she said.

I shrugged, running a hand through my hair. “I always wear a glamour.” Especially around her.

“I need you to drop it so I can see how you really are.”

I stiffened. “I don’t think that’s necessary?—”

“If I don’t know how you’re progressing, I can’t help you, Marcel.”

My lips pressed together. I fought internally over whether I should drop it. She had a point, but . . .

“Please,” Nat whispered softly. “Let me in. I won’t judge?—”

“I’m not worried about your judgement.” I was worried about her pity. The way she looked at me the first time I’d dropped my glamour was burned into my memory, and I hated it. My sunbeam had a bleeding heart, even if she’d learned to encase it in steel. I didn’t want her to see me this weak. A mere shadow of my former self. A husk.

“Then what? I’ve already seen you . . .” She stopped as understanding crossed her features. “Marcel . . . it’s okay.”

“I don’t want a caretaker, Nat. And I don’t want you to see me as some broken thing you need to take pity on.” I wanted her to see me as a man. Her man, specifically.

“I’m not going to pity you, for fuck’s sake. Since when did giving a shit about someone equate to pity?”

“When I saw how you looked at me without my glamour.” There it was. Out in the open.

She got to her feet and crossed the space between us, taking the seat beside me. My body hummed at the close proximity.

“Look. It was a surprise. You can’t blame me for having a reaction,” she said, pausing for a moment. “I don’t look at you like you’re broken. That’s not what this is.”

“You sure about that?” The bitterness in my voice was thinly veiled.

Nathalie pinched the bridge of her nose, inhaling deeply. I waited for her retort, but it never came. Instead, she softened. “Does everything have to be a fight between us? I don’t want to do that anymore. It’s so fucking taxing and I don’t have it in me. I’m on your side. Why can’t you see that?”

All the resistance I had built up began to crumble. I didn’t have it in me either. “I know you are. Maybe it just feels like old times when we argue. When things weren’t as complicated yet. We were always pretty good at it,” I said softly, a slight smirk appearing. I winked at her, and I could see her frustration with me dissipating.

“You know,” she said, taking my hands in her, “you also used to let me have my way quite a bit too.”

I sighed deeply, knowing she was going to win this one. It was little more than a thought to drop the glamour. I tensed, waiting for her expression to change. For my heart to crack open and bleed all over us both.

“Well?” I prompted.

Nathalie leaned in close, lifting a hand to cup my cheek. Gently, she brushed her thumb beneath one eye—no doubt tracing the dark circles lining my face. “You look exhausted.”

“That’s not a very nice thing to say to someone who’s dying.”

She chuckled, accepting my attempt to lighten the mood. “You want me to be honest, or do you want me to coddle you?”

“Fair enough,” I said, taking a strand of her hair and twirling it around my finger.

“I won’t, you know.”

“Won’t what?”

“I won’t coddle you.” A small smile graced her lips. “You’re a pain in the ass, Marcel. I know you don’t want a caretaker, but you can’t stop me from trying to help.”

“Who’s the pain in the ass now?” I shot back, raising a brow. “Not taking no for an answer. So very like you.”

“You’re right,” she huffed, laughing lightly. “Arguing does feel like old times. Maybe that’s why we can barely be in a room together without fighting about something. Anything, really.”

“Remember what else we used to do?” She raised her brows in question. “ After we’d argue . . .”

It was a long shot. Not one I really expected to turn into anything. Just something to make her smile or playfully smack my arm. I wanted to feel a sense of normalcy with her. She shocked me by leaning forward, closing the gap between us. I’d wanted to feel her again for so long, but for some reason, I froze, not believing this was real. Soft lips brushed mine before she whispered, “You going to kiss me back or what?”

That’s all it took to snap me out of it. I groaned, leaning into the kiss. My free hand came up to knot in her hair. I fisted it tightly as I pulled her closer, expertly parting her lips with my tongue. Nathalie opened up, letting me in.

“Fucking finally,” I growled. Our hands unraveled and I reached for her hip, pulling her to me. Nat gave in, throwing one leg across my waist to straddle me. Her heat enveloped me. Home. I was finally home.

Our mouths clashed as we came together, unable to get close enough, to breathe in enough, to devour enough—I nipped her bottom lip. She pulled my top one between hers then sucked on my tongue. I groaned.

Nathalie’s hands cupped my face, sliding backwards to run through my hair. She pulled at the strands, giving me a bite of pain. I didn’t complain. It was a different kind of pain than what I was used to. A kind I welcomed.

Our lips broke apart, but I continued sliding my lips over her jaw, down her neck. I inhaled her deeply, my hand on her hip tightening.

“Do you have any idea how much I’ve missed you? Missed this?” I whispered. Then, before she could respond, I sucked on that patch of flesh just below her ear that drove her wild. My sunbeam moaned, her body going taut against me.

“Yes,” she breathed.

“No, I don’t think you do.” I bit her neck, making her jerk in my lap. Her center pressed against my cock—seeking friction. Times may have changed. I may be worse than ever before, but I knew all her buttons to press. “If you did, you would have caved to me sooner.”

“I almost did,” she sighed, swaying her hips back and forth. “But I was so . . . hurt? Angry? All of the above.”

“And now?” I licked that spot on her neck, and she shivered.

Nat sighed and leaned back, putting her weight on my legs as she created enough distance between us to look at me. “I’m tired,” she admitted. “Tired of fighting, of pushing you away. I don’t want our last moments together to be angry words and?—”

And there it was. The mood killer. Nathalie had already pulled herself away, physically and emotionally, working on how to fix things. Preparing for the worst. My hand slipped out of her hair. I put a finger to her lips, shushing her. “I’m still fighting. There’s still time.”

Her face crumpled into a grimace. “We’re running out of time, Marcel. There’s no amount of glamour or witty remarks that can change that.”

“There really aren’t any options, Nat,” I told her without an ounce of hesitation. “I’ve lived with this for so long now that I’ve thought through everything more than once. But I’m open to suggestion.”

I was dying and I was fucking screwed.

But I would fight that losing battle till the end. For life. For her .

“I thought about trying to turn you into something else,” she said, her eyes straying from mine. “But turning into a vampire or a werewolf is out of the question now. And taking blood from a demon would likely kill you too. You’re too weak.”

I tried not to react like I’d just been punched. No guy wanted to hear how weak he was, especially not from the woman he loved. Even if it were true.

Not that I believed that idea would have worked to begin with, but there was no need to say it. “So that can be marked off the list. Any other ideas?”

“Not really,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m still digging for an answer. If you had told me earlier . . .” She let her voice trail.

Should’ve, would’ve, could’ve—none of it helped us now. But I knew my sunbeam, and her inability to separate what could have been from where we were.

I shook my head. “You’d have been sacrificed by your mother and none of this would’ve mattered in the first place,” I said, my tone firm. “I don’t regret what I did to protect you. I just want the chance to make it up before . . . just before.”

I couldn’t say it. Not yet. Not to Nathalie.

Silence settled in the room and Nathalie tried, but ultimately failed, to hide her terror. It would have warmed my heart if it weren’t so very real for us both.

Try as I might, my hourglass was nearing its end.

“I visited Carissa the other day,” she said suddenly, breaking the quiet, “and she attacked me. Not in a Carissa way either. It was super weird, honestly.”

I stiffened as concern and frustration mingled within me. “You should’ve taken me with you,” I said, my jaw clenching. “I could’ve?—”

Nathalie cut me off, smoothing away my concern tracing my lips with her finger. “It’s fine. I had August with me. We left before it got too bad.”

My jaw clenched. I knew she was involved with him. I didn’t like it, but I understood it. That he was there for her, protecting her, helping her—it hurt. It should have been me. Maybe I should be happy that she’d have someone when I left, but all I could bring myself to feel was bitterness. I wasn’t that good or kind or pure. Nathalie was mine, but banging on my chest and making my displeasure known would only make her shut down more. “I’m happy you had him with you.”

“Are you?” she asked, raising her brow in question.

“No. But I can concede it’s better than going alone.”

Nat snorted. “I suppose I should give you points for trying.”

“I’ll take what I can get when it comes to you,” I said, squeezing her hip. The warmth of her beneath my palm calmed my soul.

“Will you, though?” she asked quietly. “You know I’m with him and?—”

“It fucking kills me to say this, so know that now. I love you more than anything in this world or the next. You are the reason I’m fighting. I would give anything for a future with you, even a future where that other fucker exists in your life too. I know he makes you happy, and as much as I loathe that you need more than just me, your happiness matters more. I recognize that you’re trying to move past what broke us, and it’s about damn time?—”

“Marcel,” she said flatly.

“My point is, I fucked up. I broke us. You put the pieces back together without me, so I don’t get to say how they should go. I wasn’t there. I wanted to be. My heart always was. But your reality was that you were alone, and if this is the consequence of that—so be it.”

“I’m not doing it to punish you.”

“I know,” I answered with a smile I didn’t feel. “You’re a lot of things, but you’re not vindictive.”

We were quiet for a minute, but it wasn’t awkward. It was easy, it always had been between us. In many ways I missed this just as much as every other part of Nat. What I felt went far beyond fucking her. It was a little dark and dangerous and obsessive. I wanted her body. Her thoughts. Her silence. Everything. She was my peace, and so I’d give anything to have even a part of her.

It was more than I deserved after all I’d done, but I wasn’t the noble sort. If she wanted me, I was hers. Period.

“What did you really come here for?” I asked, rubbing circles with my thumb into her side. “While I won’t complain, I know it wasn’t for this,” I added, giving her a squeeze.

She heaved a deep sigh. “I have a question for you, and I need an honest answer. Please.”

Her tone was serious, and I brought my eyes back to hers. My eyebrow raised expectantly.

“Why did Kat try to contact Morgan Le Fay?” she asked, her gaze steady, seeing straight through me. “And don’t lie again. I know you did last time.”

Her question was unexpected. Enough so that I paused stroking her skin, having to consider my answer.

“Nat, that’s not my story to tell. I’m sorry.”

As much as I loved Nat, I loved Katherine too. In a totally different way, but I wouldn’t betray her trust if I could avoid it. In the viper’s den, she had become my best friend. For as long as I could, I’d protect her, and I’d guard what she entrusted me to know.

“Marcel, something bad is going on. I know it,” she said, her voice firm. “And I have a hunch that Kat’s efforts with The Morrigan is why.” When I didn’t say anything she continued. “People are dying. I need to know what she’s gotten herself into.”

“Nat, I swore I wouldn’t tell a soul. What kind of man does that make me if I break my word?”

Nathalie pressed her lips together, understanding but not letting it go either. “If I’m right, either Kat’s next on the hit list, or I am.”

Her words dropped deep into my stomach, weighty and overwhelming. I’d protect Kat as my best friend and I’d fucking kill for Nat, die for her. Anything. I grabbed my bottom lip between my teeth and bit punishingly hard. Fuck. It felt like betrayal, but for this?

If what she said was the truth, then vows be damned.

I wouldn’t put either of them at risk.

“She wanted to find out how to bring back Prudence,” I confessed, and Nathalie reeled back in surprise.

“What?” Her brows puckered in surprise. “Why would she want to do that?”

“Prudence wasn’t just her best friend, Nat,” I said, slowly. “Prudence and Katherine were together.”

“Together?” It took a second before understanding crossed her features. “Oh . . . oh . . .”

“She was the love of her life. Still is, really.”

A long moment passed as Nathalie processed what I’d told her. A brief look of sadness appeared before she covered it up. “Gods. No wonder she never forgave me.”

“What has she gotten herself into?” I pressed. “Why did you ask about that? And why do you think you might be targeted next?”

Nathalie sighed heavily, her shoulders slumping further. “You’re better off not knowing. It’s just going to stress you out.”

“Are you serious right now? No. Don’t do that,” I demanded, my voice hardening. “I just spilled Kat’s most deeply guarded secret, and I did it to protect you both. I deserve to know.”

Nathalie measured me with her gaze, then nodded. She shifted her body, and moved to stand, offering me a hand up. “Fine, but you’re going to need to put some pants on. Nothing about what I’m going to tell you leads to sexy time.”