Summon Lyght(40)
The water would have gone cold long since in any other shower, so it was past time he finished and went to meet his fate. Despite his concern over the circumstances, he was hard as steel with anticipation.
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Kassie cried for a long time after Lyght disappeared. How could she have done something so awful? He must be so disappointed in her. For someone who'd never been able to really do anything right, she'd sure done a bang-up job of corrupting an angel!
How could she have been so selfish? She, of all people, knew the consequences of putting personal feelings and wants ahead of others. She'd watched Samantha's father do it for two decades and observed the havoc it wrought in the lives around him.
And poor Lyght! What agony he must be going through! To have his whole mission endangered by a lowly slut must be killing him. He'd never want to see her again.
With that thought uppermost in mind, she dragged herself from where she'd slumped to the floor in her guilty grief and went in search of the bathroom and a shower. At least her body could be clean even if her conscience couldn't. Besides, washing away Lyght's smell and touch would make the lack of them easier to bear. The fewer reminders the better. Even as she told herself she could survive, she knew it was a lie. Without Lyght, there was no life for her.
Self-preservation prevented her from acknowledging the truth and allowed her to return to the small routines of daily life and her search for the bathroom. What she found was even more unadulterated diamond opulence in the form of a sunken tub big enough for several adults, and a huge steam shower. Her hands couldn't resist the thick white towels that proved soft as clouds.
Sheer willpower let her ban the thoughts that warred for presence in her mind, images of Lyght in the middle of all that indulgence with her. If she gave space to the wishful thinking, she would fall back into defeat, unable to pull herself out of it again. In some distant future she might be able to think of him without crippling grief, but not likely.
The temptation of the tub and a long soak proved stronger than her willpower and she searched for a way to draw a bath. She finally conceded defeat and stepped back, unable to find any sort of faucet or any other mechanism to fill the tub. As soon as she moved back, water began to run soundlessly into the giant diamond cistern from some hidden access point in the bottom.
Kassie waited and watched in amazement as steaming water rapidly rose to the perfect level within only a moment or two. The water stopped rising and a small tray filled with tiny bottles of scented oils slid from a recess in the side of the tub. She looked through the bottles and quickly chose lavender.
Resolutely, she pushed her guilt away long enough to sink into the luxurious scented water and lean back with a sigh. The rest of the world, and the pain it could inflict, seemed so very far away as clouds of lavender steam carried her imagination off to where nothing could ever hurt her again.
Maybe it was the memory of being hurt, or some other errant thought, but her mind immediately flew back to the time she'd spent in that rodent's nest of a nightmare. A fresh wave of guilt threatened to drown her, sucking at her limbs like quicksand on steroids. There were still people back there in that horror and God only knew when they might find some relief from the whole thing.
Tears surged and rolled down her cheeks. Somehow, she had to find a way to get the others out of that hell. No one should ever have to live that way and she wouldn't be able to live with herself if she didn't find a way to help them. She had to stop those men from doing to others what they'd done to her. No doubt Lyght's powers were the only thing that kept her from dying of her injuries and the mental damage she'd borne. That she'd welcomed him, hungered for him, so soon after was unfathomable to her. Only the necessity for his mission had permitted it, she was sure.
She was probably the last person Lyght would ever want to see again, after what she'd done to him, but maybe, just maybe, she could get him to listen to her. She needed to talk him and the other archangels into rescuing all those other people.
With a purpose in mind, she quickly finished her bath and dried off with a sinfully decadent towel. The adjoining dressing room held every sort of garment she could possibly want and then some. Formal gowns suitable for dinner with the Queen of England hung alongside casual sundresses and tank tops. She settled on a close-fitting stretchy tee with faded jeans and a pair of comfy leather clogs.
Somewhat presentable, she searched for a way back into the main compound, driven by a sense of urgency to find help for the other prisoners. How could she have waited so long to think of them? Just one more fact proving her selfish depravity. Finally, she found it—a broad corridor that left the diamond house and led, she hoped, back to the common area.