Cursed Angels - Page 62

Probably just eighteen. Maybe nineteen, but they’re still kids. Blinking the emotion from my eyes, I stalk toward the back of the building, which is where our in will be.

As soon as we reach it, Mikaela taps the keys on the pad, and we’re alerted with a loud beep of the door being unlocked. My body is tense. My hands grip the knife so tightly I feel the indents on my palm.

My heart is racing a million miles a minute, but it’s the thought of seeing Archer again that steers me forward. There are steps before us. The rooms we pass bring back a torrid of memories, and I’m sucking in deep breaths to keep from falling into a dark corner of my mind.

A phantom pain stabs me right in the stomach, where the scar is still visible. The thick, dark slice where they cut me open and removed the one thing that made me a woman. The only thing I can no longer give Archer.

As soon as we reach the top floor, there’s another door which slides open when we near it, and we’re met with a deep blue office. At least, that’s what it looks like. The dark furniture is illuminated with a strange blue light.

“Ah, welcome, sister.” A voice has me jumping backward, slamming into Hunter’s tall frame. The woman who steps out of the shadows is the spitting image of Diana. Her steely glare is pinned on me, and I know immediately who she is.

I’m about to open my mouth when Archer appears from behind the door she just entered from, and I’m stunned speechless. His hardened gaze lands on me, and the vacant expression in his eyes causes my stomach to lurch and bile to burn its way up my throat.

“You’re just in time,” Rebekah utters with a grin. “We were celebrating our good news.” The woman settles in a chair behind her elaborate desk. Archer closes the distance between them, stopping just behind her.

“And what would that be, sister?” Mikaela spits out the word as if it’s a poison burning through her veins.

“Our baby,” Rebekah smirks, placing a hand on Archer’s. My mind goes blank, my throat closes, and darkness envelops me.

Chapter 30

Archer

I long to go to Mara. The pain on her face and the way she collapses causes my heart to rip in two. I can’t show weakness just yet though. My mind’s too much of a mess with the news that the Devil herself is carrying my child. I’ve always been so careful. I wanted to see the results of her test, but she’d sprung the fact that her sister was on the way here on me.

Apparently, she’s been watching her closer than I thought, and when Mara along with Hunter showed up, she knew it wouldn’t be long before they appeared in her office, searching to end her triumphant business — her words, not mine. For now, I must play the role of expectant father and hope Mara forgives me in the end.

“Oh, dear.” Rebekah peers over the table at where Hunter is bringing Mara back to her feet. “Well, she’s not a very good assassin if she faints at the drop of a hat. Whatever could be wrong with her? Not a maternal person?” Rebekah raises a malicious but well-manicured eyebrow in the direction of the woman I love. “Archer, why don’t you get everyone a drink to toast the news?”

Blowing frustrated air out of my nostrils, I retrieve a bottle of champagne located in a fridge in the office. Glasses rest on a shelf next to it, and I pop the cork and fill them. I hand the first one to Mikaela. With Hunter’s glass, I mouth “trap” to him. Mara shakes her head when offered, and I can see the wetness of tears around her eyes.

A child, the one thing she can’t give me, and the woman we both want dead probably has mine growing inside her. Can the world deal us anymore bad luck? Should we give up now? I pick up my glass and swallow down the bubbly liquid in one long gulp.

Rebekah coughs next to me.

“Are you forgetting someone?”

I pick up her glass and tip the contents into the sink then fill it with water before handing it to her. “I don’t think your sister has come here for a toast, and you can’t drink. Pregnant, remember? Or have you already forgotten?”

Rebekah bares her teeth at me in a snarl. “I’m the boss here. You don’t get to tell me what to do.”

“You’ve got my kid in there. I’ve got every right. I know just what you’re like with children, and this one won’t be another toy soldier.”

She shoves her water back into my hand and pushes past me to address her sister. “So, what was your plan then?” Rebekah questions with a tap of her designer shoe on the floor.

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