Read Online The Company of Darkness by Lisa Olsen - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Lisa Olsen
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proper kiss goodnight, long enough to make her really wish she could stay for a week, but it was time to go.
“I love you and nothing’s coming our way.”
They traded texts all the way home, and more than once he surprised her with his sense of humor. Slowly but surely, Ethan was opening up, remembering what it was like to be a regular human being. Cady felt like the night was a real turning point for their relationship, not just because of the sex, as awesome as it was, but because of what they’d shared about their pasts, their hopes for the future.
When she finally locked herself inside the empty apartment, she texted him a final goodnight, knowing it’d be hella hard to get up in time for work in the morning if she didn’t get to bed soon. She tucked the leftover food in the back of the fridge behind an ancient milk carton so Ian wouldn’t eat it all when he got home, but not before snagging a fortune cookie from the bag. Tearing open the cellophane, she bit into the cookie, pulling the paper fortune out of her teeth to read – May you have great luck .
Smiling all the way to her bedroom as she munched the cookie, Cady started to dream about the future. Ethan would get rid of Ash and things would settle down for him at work. Sure, he’d have to chase demons the next time one came their way, but that could be weeks or even months away from the sound of things. She’d keep working her respectable job, and maybe sign up for some community college courses now that she had a regular schedule.
Best of all, she’d get to see Ethan more and more, as soon as he got over his paranoia about the Company. Rikard would move on to whatever new bit of violence he was assigned to and she’d tell Ian to piss up a rope the next time he asked her where she’d been all night. They could make this work, she could feel it in her bones. May you have great luck. Things were definitely looking up.
* * *
Darkness.
There was no light, no sound, no stir of life. In the nothingness there was a sense of peace, but Ash gladly gave it up to dream. It was all he did as of late. In dreams he could almost remember the taste of her, the smell of her hair, the thrill of her laugh, the soft perfection of her skin. His muse. His goddess divine.
His ruination.
But for his obsession with her flawless beauty, he would be free. Free to feed instead of caught like an insect trapped in amber. Free to rend and tear, to savor the rapture of quivering flesh and spilled blood. To revel in the corruption of the innocent, the debauchery of the wicked, it was all the same to him. It all lay beyond his reach, made impotent and small in his organic prison. Forever denied the pulse of life.
And yet he loved her still. Craved her in the deepest, darkest corners of his soul. For Asherik had a soul now, he was convinced of it. Otherwise how could he feel such torment over his sins?
In dreams, the faces of his victims taunted him. They were free now, but he was not. They tormented him with knowing looks and jeers, no longer viewing him with fear or love, not even pity. Dreams such as these were unbearable, but Ash endured them for the bright shining moments when she would appear.
Never quite there, always out of reach. The occasional scent of hair or softness of her voice would waft to him, and for that fleeting moment, he was whole. Sometimes he could sense others, bound as he was, but they didn’t interest him. They slumbered, deaf and dumb, unaware. Perhaps that would have been a kinder prison to endure. There were times when Ash might have prayed for such oblivion if only he knew who to pray to.
And then it happened.
Her cry pierced the darkness, calling him like a siren’s song. He could feel her there, his senses on overload, breathing her in with every fiber that remained of him. If he’d had eyes, Ash would have wept for joy.
“I guess
“I love you and nothing’s coming our way.”
They traded texts all the way home, and more than once he surprised her with his sense of humor. Slowly but surely, Ethan was opening up, remembering what it was like to be a regular human being. Cady felt like the night was a real turning point for their relationship, not just because of the sex, as awesome as it was, but because of what they’d shared about their pasts, their hopes for the future.
When she finally locked herself inside the empty apartment, she texted him a final goodnight, knowing it’d be hella hard to get up in time for work in the morning if she didn’t get to bed soon. She tucked the leftover food in the back of the fridge behind an ancient milk carton so Ian wouldn’t eat it all when he got home, but not before snagging a fortune cookie from the bag. Tearing open the cellophane, she bit into the cookie, pulling the paper fortune out of her teeth to read – May you have great luck .
Smiling all the way to her bedroom as she munched the cookie, Cady started to dream about the future. Ethan would get rid of Ash and things would settle down for him at work. Sure, he’d have to chase demons the next time one came their way, but that could be weeks or even months away from the sound of things. She’d keep working her respectable job, and maybe sign up for some community college courses now that she had a regular schedule.
Best of all, she’d get to see Ethan more and more, as soon as he got over his paranoia about the Company. Rikard would move on to whatever new bit of violence he was assigned to and she’d tell Ian to piss up a rope the next time he asked her where she’d been all night. They could make this work, she could feel it in her bones. May you have great luck. Things were definitely looking up.
* * *
Darkness.
There was no light, no sound, no stir of life. In the nothingness there was a sense of peace, but Ash gladly gave it up to dream. It was all he did as of late. In dreams he could almost remember the taste of her, the smell of her hair, the thrill of her laugh, the soft perfection of her skin. His muse. His goddess divine.
His ruination.
But for his obsession with her flawless beauty, he would be free. Free to feed instead of caught like an insect trapped in amber. Free to rend and tear, to savor the rapture of quivering flesh and spilled blood. To revel in the corruption of the innocent, the debauchery of the wicked, it was all the same to him. It all lay beyond his reach, made impotent and small in his organic prison. Forever denied the pulse of life.
And yet he loved her still. Craved her in the deepest, darkest corners of his soul. For Asherik had a soul now, he was convinced of it. Otherwise how could he feel such torment over his sins?
In dreams, the faces of his victims taunted him. They were free now, but he was not. They tormented him with knowing looks and jeers, no longer viewing him with fear or love, not even pity. Dreams such as these were unbearable, but Ash endured them for the bright shining moments when she would appear.
Never quite there, always out of reach. The occasional scent of hair or softness of her voice would waft to him, and for that fleeting moment, he was whole. Sometimes he could sense others, bound as he was, but they didn’t interest him. They slumbered, deaf and dumb, unaware. Perhaps that would have been a kinder prison to endure. There were times when Ash might have prayed for such oblivion if only he knew who to pray to.
And then it happened.
Her cry pierced the darkness, calling him like a siren’s song. He could feel her there, his senses on overload, breathing her in with every fiber that remained of him. If he’d had eyes, Ash would have wept for joy.
“I guess
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