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There were crowds of people surrounding him, but the only presence he cared about was that of the woman next to him. Her dark eyes peered into his with a mixture of confusion, adoration, and thankfulness. She understood he had saved her, brought her back from that glimpse of death she had seen, even though she did not understand how. The blood covering his face was her's, and somehow only enhanced his beauty. This was Damien, her Damien, God's Damien. The Deliverer, the Beast, the Antichrist. A god in his own right.
Her eyes glanced around at all the servants and she felt pride bloom in her chest. Only now did she understand this sense of loyalty that had been growing inside of her. Some part of her past self knew he would save her one day, and that is all that mattered.
His hands grasped her face and the world fell silent. As his fingers moved to hold her cheeks, her mouth fell open in silent reverence. His beauty was astonishing. His very aura screamed power and she felt her knees start to buckle when their eyes clashed yet again. His arm curled around her back to catch her and his somewhat sinister smirk knew exactly what he was doing to her and everyone around them.
"Let's go, Simone." And with those words, he pressed play on the world. Movement was everywhere as everyone stood from their kneeling position. Ann and the hounds moved toward them as Detective Shay stood and wiped away a tear.
"Yes, where to Master Damien?" Ann's voice was a whisper meant only for Damien’s ears.
"Take me to Amani." The distinct command in his tone sent a shiver down Simone's spine, and his keen eyes did not miss it. Ann bowed her head and gestured to the car, the perfect countenance of a faithful servant.
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He is attempting to get his foot loose from a rock that has snagged his shoe when he hears the familiar hum of an approaching car. The dirt he had been so purposely pushing away now starts to cave in and his efforts become reckless. The fear of Lyons returning to put a bullet through his head instead of his side eats away at his brain.
The rock at his foot gives way as he hears doors slam shut. His hands grapple with the ground in an attempt to stand as his legs push off the ground erratically.
Then he's running, a panting, dirty mess of scratches and a miraculously healed side that somehow still tugs on his skin. He hasn't even made it out of the clearing when he hears footsteps behind him and a voice calls out. He ignores the part of his brain screaming at him to listen, to take a breath and listen to that voice that he longs to call his name. He doesn't.
"Amani." The voice cuts through his brain like the knife in Greta's side. It is both too loud and too quiet, jumps around his skull like a scream but moves through his body like a whisper. It is seven voices and one. The pain is hell, but the voice is heaven.
His head whips around and his body isn't fast enough to follow as it crumples beneath him. His eyes barely follow the pale skin and blue eyes as they crash into his body. Strong arms encase him and suddenly he is back to the day Damien first saved him. With surprising clarity, he can feel that same duty that comes with realizing someone has saved your life. A debt settles over his shoulders, yet he knows he will not mind paying it off.
"Amani..." The voice, Damien's voice, is gentler this time. Simply a comfort to the gasping man who does not understand how he is alive and in his friend's arms. "Amani, breathe." He can't help but listen. His entire body relaxes in the familiar warmth of his best friend. Two softer hands settle on him as a pair of lips is brought to his forehead, a silent confession of 'thank god,’ despite the irony.
Amani's eyes fluttered open and met a pair of matching brown eyes and contrasting blue ones. His shaking hands grasp at Damien's face and he cannot explain the urge to kiss him, his feet, hands, neck, and every other part of his wondrous body. The blood on his face is no distraction from his beauty and only enhances the undeniable pull to kiss away the trace of pain in his eyes.
"You're alive.." there's both relief and question in Simone's voice. Amani let's out a half-hearted chuckle, still breathless from the intensity of every emotion wafting through his body.
Damien's eyes transform from this strange mixture of pain, relief, and love, to nothingness. If Amani tries hard enough, he can remember seeing the very same look after Damien’s suicide attempt. Damien pulls his hands away from Amani and stands with a grace that he may have always had, but it's so much more noticeable now. Ann and some of her men are standing only feet away, and the older woman's smile has dropped off her face.
"Yes, he is." Damien starts walking toward her and the dogs that had stood beside Ann only an hour before are now surrounding and circling her. "Care to explain Ann?" His glare promises death, and he doesn't want to think about why Ann's men suddenly point their guns at her. "Or should I reiterate how I don't like being manipulated." His hand is at her throat faster than she can even think of an answer.
Ann struggles, she will die if the power wishes it, if Damien wishes it. But she does not want to die with Damien thinking she was anything other than loyal. Her eyes are pleading, for she can't get a word out. A part of her preens at the attention, exhilarated he is already showing such command over his abilities. Behind them, Amani is scrambling toward Damien, this isn't her fault.
"D-Damien wait!" His hand goes to Damien's wrist as the man picks Ann up off the ground, only to drop her as soon as their skin makes contact. "She didn't kill me, what is this about?"
"She lied to me, said you were dead." He sends a scathing look towards Rutledge and smirks as she shrinks back. "No doubt in order to manipulate me into killing John." Ann opens her mouth to defend herself, but Damien's glare shuts her up with little resistance.
"Hey, hey, Damien." Amani puts both of his hands on the man's perfect face, feeling almost unworthy of touching him. "Look at me, please." Damien tears his eyes away from the women as she waits with bated breath. For all she knows Amani could say she was lying, he sure as hell wasn't a fan of hers.
"She wasn't lying." Amani takes a steadying breath and Damien simply quirks an eyebrow, waiting for his friend to continue. "Lyons killed me, shot me in the side and then buried me in that pit with Sister Greta." He paused to lift up his shirt, hoping the faint feeling of a scar wasn't his imagination, "I don't know how or why, but I woke up not long ago and it felt like I had enough air in my lungs to last years and more strength that I have ever possessed. Okay? I thought I was dead, no doubt she did too." Damien's eyes soften and Ann lets out a silent breath of relief. Her men lower their guns and the hounds relax into a comfortable position next to Damien and Amani. Damien's hand is kind but firm as he cups Amani's face and the love in his eyes seems almost out of place with the blood upon his skin.
"I'm so fucking glad you're alive Amani." His voice is as breathless as Amani feels and shakes his body like no other. Damien catches him in a hug like it's his instinct. Amani's breath on his neck is hot and sends a pleasurable shiver down Damien’s spine. Simone's hands are on the back of their necks and her tears fall over their heads. Ann and the rest of the company look down as if witnessing a divine event they all know they are unworthy of. This time, it is Amani's voice that breaks the silence.
"Can we go home?" He sounds almost like a child, and neither Simone nor Damien know exactly which home he is referring to, but they both smile as Simone casts a glance toward Damien.
"Of course, let's get you two cleaned up." And both of the man's servants smile at the prospect of being taken care of by their savior.