The Endings #14

Name: Lisa Collicutt

Title of manuscript: The Devil’s Flower

Description:
A runaway, Rosalie Lockwood finds the Fallen Paladins motorcycle club lead by twenty-year-old Darkstar. She is quickly accepted into the fold. Soon after, it is revealed that she is the one they fear—the one who bears the mark of the one who will destroy them and their kind.
Rosalie is a fledgling—called to destroy all neophytes: half-human, half-demons, as is the charge of all half-human, half-seraphs. Darkstar’s neophyte brethren are reluctant to believe that Rosalie’s sudden appearance is a fluke and begin to mistrust her. Darkstar insists she can trust him and if necessary, he will kill his fellow neophytes.
By now Rosalie can neither deny who or what she is, nor her deep love for Darkstar. The only way to prove to the neophytes that she’s not the killer they fear is to save their souls. But in order to do that, she must become soulless herself.

Last 491 words:
Later that evening, after a mild protest from Rose, Darkstar snuck her away from the party, telling her he had a surprise for her.

Blindfolded by Darkstar’s hands, she was led to a dimly lit corner of the garage. When he released her, her eyes flew open and she gasped. In front of her was Jade’s glossy black Harley. The only art was the name, Jade painted on one side of the gas tank.

“It’s yours,” he said, his tough voice edged with rare excitement. “Of course I’ll buy you a new one, but I thought this would be good to practice…”

“I don’t want a new one.”

Rose was staring at the new-to-her bike. She knew how hard of a decision it would have been for Darkstar to give it to her. It would mean she’d be on the road almost every day, riding her own motorcycle, living dangerously like the rest of them.

She twisted her neck to look at him, her fingers stroking Jade’s name. “I mean, it would be silly to let this perfectly good bike go to waste. I love it.” And she did.

“I can get Patch and Thorne to give it a custom paint job,” he suggested thoughtfully.

She shook her head. “Maybe they can paint my name on the other side of the tank instead.”
Smiling, he nodded. “Get on. See if it fits.”

From the bottoms of her feet to the tips of her fingers, it fit her like everything else of Jade’s—like it was made for her.

“Can I cry now?” As she said it, she blinked releasing a tear from each eye.

Darkstar straddled the seat behind her, sliding his arms around her waist. Rose leaned against him, resting the back of her head on his shoulder, perfectly content.

“You know, most girls would have wanted all new everything.”

“I’m not most girls.”

“No you’re not. You’re my delicate Rose. And I love you.” He breathed the words against her neck, working his way to her eagerly awaiting lips.

Rose twisted the upper half of her body until their faces met. “And I love you.” Darkstar’s hand had worked its way under the front of her t-shirt, flattening out on her stomach. “But I’m not so delicate.”

Their cheeks brushed lightly together. His lips lingered a fraction from hers. “You’ll always be delicate to me. And I’ll work extra hard for the rest of my life to keep you safe, because I can’t imagine being in this world without you.”

“We’re special,” Rose whispered against his lips. “Blessed of the Seraphim.”

“It doesn’t get more special than that,” Darkstar breathed back.

Unable to bear the delay any longer; her hand found the back of his head; her fingers tangled through his hair and their lips melted together.

And as Eloa promised, two souls, destined to share a lifetime and beyond, began the rest of their long, human lives together.