The Hunter's Queen (ICS Book Two) - Wattys2017

Chapter Thirty-Six - Nicholas the Death Bringer

Nicholas the Death Bringer

Fuck this.

Nicholas' hard gaze fixated on the stone wall of his room, his hunched form shaking as he sat in the dark on the edge of his bed. His bandaged hands hung limply between his knees. Agonizing pain coursed over his broken body, cold sweat beading on his skin. He didn't make a sound, raising a cigar to his lips.

That fall should have killed him.

He'd replayed that moment a thousand times. For a human his fall from the tower was a death sentence. Taking a deep drag of his cigar he let the smooth smoke fill his lungs, watching the grey wisps curl into the air by moonlight. Nicholas didn't know what pissed him off more, the fact that he'd lived or that he now suffered in pain.

Damn it.

Raising his hand he stared at his palm, wrapped tightly with gauze, the stark white tinged with blood. The soft bandages coiled up his arms, over his torso and down his right leg. It felt as if he were suffocating in them.

He clenched his fist, the newly healed bones protesting. At least his hands were healing. The witches had done what they could, but parts of him remained damaged.

Cursed.

He didn't need some damn witch to confirm his fears. He could feel the curse spreading over his body like a disease. And with it came pain. It hindered his healing, left him weak. He'd seen this curse before, in Bane. Nicholas knew his body would never fully heal, that the pain would haunt him. He would always feel broken, half alive. Wrong.

As if being cursed with immortality wasn't bad enough.

Mystics.

Always fucking mystics. He despised them. Vile creatures, every one of them.

Flashbacks from his childhood assaulted him. Lifeless eyes staring at him from among the rubble that was once his home. He gripped his head, forcing back the memories. Ignoring the pain in his body he stood. Wrapping the sheet over his waist he limped over to his bureau, snatching up a bottle of whiskey. Uncorking the bottle with his teeth he spit the cork out with a grunt and took a long drink.

There was no point in allowing the past to creep up now. What was done was done.

"You should be resting."

With a scowl Nicholas glanced sideways. Jasper was leaning against the bedroom door, hands in his pockets.

"Didn't even notice you," Nicholas muttered.

Jasper smirked. "You're slipping."

"No shit."

"You look like crap by the way," Jasper mused.

Nicholas gave the demon a death look. "Watch it."

Raising a brow the demon looked him over. "So you are cursed then?"

Nicholas motioned to his bandaged body. "What do you think?"

"Maybe this Evelyn can lift her curse?" Jasper said softly.

Nicholas gave a short bark of laughter. "Why would she? After what I did?"

Jasper shrugged. "This one seems different. From what I've heard she's good-natured-"

"You forget she shot you."

Smiling, the demon shrugged. "Actually, I find that rather amusing. And besides, she was trying to save her mate. To her we were the enemy."