Page 13 of Ashfall
When I turn my head to the side, a male who appears to be in his late thirties, deep tanned skin from what looks like hours in the sun and messy blonde hair has decided to join me. I give asmile that doesn’t reach the corners before I face forward again. Not today, Satan, not today. He leans over and puts his hand on my shoulder, I bite the inside of my cheek to stop me twisting his hand in a way that he’d need it amputated. That would be a sure way of blowing the mission early.
I raise my brow turning to him as he leans over to speak to me in Russian. Excellent. I look up at him and shake my head and shrug, making his arm slide down my side as I say, “Sorry, I don’t understand.” Hopeful that gets him out of my kill zone due to an unfortunate language barrier. “Ah, you speak English. You're American?”Fuck sake. I strain to give him another small smile, the polite phrase offuck off, ready to roll off my tongue instead of using my elbow to eject his jaw from the hooks.
“Yes, I am, I'm here with my boyfriend.” My inner demon’s pacing like a caged prize-fighter, itching to get her hands on the idiot that stands before me. I’m being a reluctant referee - if she breaks loose, she's fighting dirty. “Your boyfriend leaves a pretty girl at the bar alone? Doesn't sound like a very good one to me.” A smile slowly creeps over his face, like he thinks he's charming me. Breathe, Nyx. Breathe. “I can look after myself.” Giving him one last deathly smile, just as the bartender comes back and apologizes profusely, looking flustered as she pours the drinks I ordered.
I go to grab the cash out of my purse, but the stranger holds out his hand to stop me, turning his attention to the bartender. “Put it on Volokov's tab - we'll get it.” Turning to wink at me. Bingo - he's here.
“Oh, you don’t need to do that, really.” I say as I try to hand him the cash.
“No, I insist. You can tell your boyfriend I took care of it for you.” His eyes give me one last once over before he heads over to the right side, the guards opening the gate to let him in without hesitation.
I grab the glasses and head back to Phantom, who's staring at me with a brow raised. “What the hell did he say to you?” Liquid spills as I thump the glasses down with a little more force than necessary, diluting mine with the mixer to reduce the bitter taste of the whiskey I had forbidden myself from ever allowing past my lips again. I press the earpiece so Adam and Blitz can hear me. “Nothing I couldn't handle. He bought these and said he added them toVolokov'stab.”
Phantom stones his expression, then presses his watch “Be on guard guys.” Adam responds a second later “On it, I’m gonna head over and look over the railing.” “Just going to the bathroom.” I add so we all know our positions.
I catch Adam already leaning over the railing with Blitz, who turns effortlessly, slipping into her role. She lifts her phone, snapping photos with him, playing the part of the affectionate couple with flawless ease. The device in her hands has been rebuilt and modified. The enhanced front camera sharpens every detail, ensuring clearer images, allowing us to provide intelligence something to work with if they need to clean them up later. I peel away next, heading for the sign marked as the bathroom. Pushing through the doors, I step into a dimly lit hallway running behind the bar. I stroll through it, my eyes locking onto three distinct sets of doors, each one a potential path forward.
The middle door sits in darkness, no light spilling from beneath, likely where the bartender disappeared earlier to grab bottles. I turn to the first door, its image illuminated - a dress. Women’s bathroom. Pushing it open to reveal a sleek interior. Black glossy tiles stretch seamlessly from floor to ceiling, their polished surfaces catching the faint glow of overhead fixtures. Even the cubicles are jet-black, blending into the walls like shadows. Keeping in theme, a row of vibrant purple lights lines the sinks, reflecting the neon like liquid fire across the surfaces.
I make sure my wig is secure before I leave, deciding to go the opposite way when I notice another door adjacent to the double ones I was about to exit. I scan the area, scoping out the domed camera in the middle of the ceiling. Pulling my phone out of my purse, I pretend I’m writing a long text, idly treading back and forth to slowly go behind the wall where the door is located, out of the camera's line of sight.
My eyes scan upwards, and I notice there’s no camera facing this area - interesting. It’s a large grey door with curtains shrouding it, pulled back by purple ropes that keep them tame. I scan it from top to bottom when I notice the large V in the middle, lit up in the same style as the bathroom signs. I reach my hand out to test the door, fingers freezing when I hear that same voice from earlier. “Alone again, beautiful? I’m starting to think you're trying to get away from that boyfriend of yours.”Showtime. I turn around, faking a stumble and press my hand to the door, and it opens slightly. “I got lost trying to find the bathroom.” Giving him a shy smile. “Well it’s certainly not that way, I don’t think you'd like what happens if you accidentally wandered through there, pretty girl.”
One punch, I can allow myself one? “My bad, I think I’m a little drunk!” I giggle and go to move around him when he side-steps to block me. My fake smile drops, sore from trying to keep it unnaturally plastered to my face when I look at him. He doesn't realize it should be me he doesn't want to be stuck in this corridor with. “Is there something you want?” I ask, while he drags his eyes over me, stopping short at my legs and then back up to stop at my breasts, making my eyes roll in annoyance. His hot breath hits my face as he leans in closer to speak “What's your name?” I take a small step back, swaying him into thinking I’m as frightened as he likely wants me to be.
“What does that matter?” my voice rattles, but it’s not with fear - it’s the demon getting excited she's one step closer tospilling some blood. “I like to know the names of the girls I fuck.” He's quick for his size, he's at least 220 pounds and towering over me. But he's just not quick enough. I land a punch to his gut, then grab the hand that touched me earlier and snap it at a warped angle. His “Bitch!” screams against my ear, causing the drum to rattle. I shift to get both hands around his neck, ready to snap it, but then I feel the cold threat of metal against my inner thigh, instantly making me pause.
“I was going to be gentle with you, but not after the little stunt you just pulled.” He presses his forearm against my throat, enclosing me into the wall whilst tracing the blade up my thigh with his good hand and towards my waist. “Turn around.” he seethes through gritted teeth, and I know he’s likely fighting back tears. “Fuck you.” I spit out. A gun I can handle, but a knife? It's harder to get away from when you're so close. I reach down slowly to grip the blade whilst still staring into his eyes, but just as my hand touches his skin, the arm against my throat is twisted, a sickening crack echoes from his shoulder against the muffled sound of music, the knife he was holding a second ago whips across his neck, blood instantly pouring from him.
I slide along the wall as the hot liquid ejects onto the front of my body, moving out the way so I’m not covered in it. Sighing, I lean down whilst mockingly shake my head, staring into the stranger’s withering eyes, hoping his last thought is regret for ever trying me. I'll need help dragging his ass out this hallway. I straighten to see which of the guys helped me out. “Than—” my words die off, caught in the presence of the night-cloaked predator before me. My breath stills as our eyes lock, a storm raging within the depths of his ocean-colored gaze, wild, and untamed.
“Hello, Malyshka.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
nyx
FIVE YEARS AGO
Icollapse onto my bed in the base with a heavy flop. God, I’m exhausted. Training has been relentless lately. Hours spent staring through the scope with night vision have left my eyes struggling to focus. We’re in the middle of a two-week refresher course while we’re off deployment, keeping our skills sharp. I don’t mind it, really. It’s not the drills that are wearing me down, though - it’s Nocturne. He’s been tiring me out more than the damn scope training. But truth be told, I don’t mind that either.
I step into the shower, giving myself a quick scrub, my hair twisted into a messy bun. After brushing my teeth, I step out of the bathroom, only to catch sight of a shadowy figure perched on my bed. I smirk. “Shouldn’t you be in your own room Noc?” Turning, I let the towel slip down my body, my gaze locking onto those scorching blue eyes in the mirror - watching him, watching me.
He huffs out a laugh. My eyes take the opportunity to roll over him. He’s dressed in all black everything – his special ops gear – from the tight fitted shirt all the way to his cargo trousers and boots. He radiates lethal power, but somehow it always seems to draw me in. I’ve never really felt the appeal ofa man in uniform. But on Noc? The uniform is downright sinful. Heart blooms beneath my skin, causing a slow and treacherous blush to creep its way up my cheeks. “My instincts led me here, and judging by what I see, they weren’t wrong.” His dark and predatory gaze rakes over me, like he’s deciding the best way to devour me. And God, I know he will. He leans back, adjusting himself at the waistband, then resting his muscular forearms on his knees. On the outside, he looks controlled, but I can see the tension coiling beneath his surface.
The towel lies forgotten on the floor between us. I’ve got him worked up, and he knows it. “Instincts? Is that what we’re calling your impulses now?” I smirk, turning to meet his stare head-on. This man – an Adonis carved from raw power, all six-foot-five of brutal, commanding muscle, makes my heart hammer and my thighs press together in anticipation. He holds my gaze and speaks, low and rough. His demeanor morphing into something primal. “I’ve had a long day, and since you like testing my patience, Brodie. Get on your knees… and crawl to me.” His words steal the breath from my lungs. Every last one.
Realization slams into me - I would do anything this man asked me – anything at all. I’ve been hooking up with Noc for a year, since I was twenty-one, and he was twenty-seven. I first laid eyes on him at the base; he came highly recommended as a key figure in our special operations task force. He supports training as our mission to counteract the threats to western society grows. He climbed the ranks relentlessly, committing himself to the cause the moment he was eligible to join the military. Once, he told me his father wanted a better life for him, and started his training when he was just a kid – just like my parents had with me. That shared history was what first got us talking, forging an understanding few others could relate to.
He was tasked with those of us looking to progress into special operations, crafting bespoke training sessions meantto sharpen our precision. And on that first day? I failed spectacularly. Normally, I was solid with a rifle, but every time he spoke, his words faded into static, drowned out by my fixation on his eyes. They reminded me of the ocean during a storm - wild, untamable, and impossible to look away from. He straight-up asked if my profile had been fabricated, considering how good I was on paper. I like to remind him of that every time I dominate a session, especially when the final scores roll in. Whoever loses, has the task of sneaking into the other's bedroom. As you can tell, I won the latest round.
I sink to my knees, slowly, and deliberate, as if the entire world is holding its breath along with me. Then, I do exactly as he commanded. I crawl to him. My movement is fluid as I channel my inner feline, making my body pliant, my bones lax, my approach a prowling dance. My gaze never veers, it’s locked onto his.
I stop between his spread thighs, the heat radiating off him like a thunderstorm on the verge of breaking. His inked hand reaches out, fingers curling around my throat. A tease. A promise. He presses just enough to remind me who's in control. “I think I need to teach that mouth of yours another lesson.” he murmurs. I feel the shiver before it happens, it’s electric, crawling up my spine. His lessons are my favorite. They make me want to be a brat every chance I get.
“I think you should,” I whisper, tilting my chin up in defiance. “I don’t think I’ve learned since last time.” His fingers tighten, just a fraction. Just enough to make me exhale sharply. The growl that rumbles in his chest goes straight between my thighs, a smile tugging the corner of his lips. It's sharp, knowing, and dangerous. His other hand lifts, fingers brushing gently through my hair, tucking it away so he can take in every inch. I’m mesmerized by him. I trace the lines of his battle-hardened face, a man who has seen more horror than most will in an entirelifetime. The weight of it lingers in the sharp edges of his jaw, in the tension resting beneath his skin. But here, at this moment, I want to make him forget. For now, it’s just us.
The world beyond this space ceases to exist, fading into background noise. His storm eyes lock onto mine, piercing me with silent words unspoken between us. “Noc,” I whisper, restless beneath his grip. I shift, impatience curling through me like a slow burn. My hand glides down his chest, hard lines and sculpted muscle beneath the stretch of black fabric. I trace his belt, running a nail over the buckle, and I tug just enough to make my intent clear. Still, he only watches me. I arch a brow, challenging him, daring him to act. His smirk breaks free as he tightens his grip around my throat for one final, teasing squeeze before his hands slide down, gripping the backs of my thighs.
