Dark Temptations: A Niall Horan Imagine

Chapter Twenty-Five: Betrayed

Here is another update for you guys! I wanted to get this posted this week, but school is a bitch. Anyways I've been working ALL day to get this book updated for you guys. I hope it was worth the wait! There is another double update. So stay tuned! 

Chapter Twenty-Five: Betrayed 

“Madness is like gravity. All it takes is a little push.”
— The Joker

Kensington, London 1864

Jakek de Quincey walked in the busy streets of Kensington in early daylight. He looked at his watch, and realised he was close to being ten minutes late. The bastard deserves a little wait, he thought. He turned the corner and crossed the second street where he met face to face with Roulette’s Coffeehouse. The scent of glass cleaner stung his nose as he entered the shop. The bell above the door jingled as he came in. Warm, freshly baked breads and black coffee filled the room. Jakek scanned the area for a heavily cloaked man in which his attire was similar to his own. There, sitting in the back with a hat upon his head was the one Jakek was ten minutes late for. Not that he cared. With a growing, unsentimental smile on his face, Jakek smoothly strolled over to the man and casually sat across from him.

You’re late. The man accused.
I hadn’t have anyone of importance to come to aid, I decided to take my time on this delightful morning.
You’re not very amusing. And if I can recall, you wanted to meet me here. Have you forgotten that proposition?
Ah, no I haven’t, Mr. Lightwood. Perhaps we should jump right into discussion shall we?
You know I don’t use that name anymore, Jakek, if I could politely ask of you not to say it anymore.
Why? Hiding from the Archangels again? You can’t stay away from them forever. They’ll eventually catch you and rip the feathers off your back the second they get the chance.
Afraid I’ll become like you, Jakek? An Abaddon? Hardly. The Archangels wouldn’t dare touch a feather on my back if they still haven’t gotten what they wanted. The man says with a smile.
This new information surprises Jakek. You mean you haven’t beared a child yet? It’s been over twenty years and you still haven’t—
And I don’t plan to. You know how rare they are. One hasn’t been conceived within the last millennia, what makes you and the Archangels believe I am the one who will create a Seraph? If they want one so excruciatingly bad, why don’t they ask Isaiah? I’m sure he’ll tell you the reason another one of his kind wasn’t created for the past thousand years.
Very funny, Mr. Lightwood. Jakek pauses, to watch the fury in the man’s eyes as he called him by his unused name once again. But I’m certain you are aware that my kind cannot enter the gates of your realm. You will have to provide a different solution.
Is that what your kind calls it? A realm? Have you been forbidden to say the name of the home of Our Heavenly Father? What else can you not do?
Wouldn’t you like to know, Mr. Lightwood? He says in a sarcastic tone.
No, I wouldn’t. But I’m sure the information is not sacred. What’s not to tell, Jakek?
Now you’re teasing. Jakek accuses as he abruptly stands up from his chair.
Don’t be so sensitive, Demon. It isn’t my fault that you sinned yourself to Hell.
No. It isn’t. But you will be damned if you don’t bear a child with your mate within the next one hundred years, I can assure you that. Jakek begins to walk away, leaving the Angel distraught.
You’re not going to get what you want, no amount of effort will ever get you there. The Angel warns.
Just wait. You’ll see.

Unknown Place, Present Time

“So know that you have me, what you are going to do with me?” I whisper.
“More than you will ever be able to imagine.” Niall said in a low, seductive voice. He stood behind me, his hand on my shoulder as he caressed it. We stood in the middle of a large living area, a fireplace sitting against one wall was crackling with flames. I watched the flames spark, blocking out everything except for Niall’s touch. His palm slid down my arm and clasped my hand into his.
“Name three.” I dared him. I felt his smile as he leaned down to kiss my hair.
“How about I just show you?” He murmurs into my hair. “Take your shoes off.”
I obey. With his other hand, he slides down the strap of my tank top, and off my shoulder. He repeats the same on the other side, and runs my top over my head, dropping it onto the floor.
“One,” he says. My heart beats fast in my chest. I don’t know how far he’s going to go, but I can’t find my voice to speak. Niall slides his thumbs into the hem of my jeans and tugs. He sends them down to my feet and orders me to step out of them. Pushing my jeans to the side, Niall swiftly turns me around and suddenly his lips are on mine. My arms reach up around his neck, pressing myself against him. Niall’s hands run over the clasp of my bra, quickly undoing the clip.
“Two,” he smiles against my lips. The straps of the bra slide off of my arms and onto my feet. His soft lips return to mine and I am grabbing the hem of his shirt and pulling it off of his head. My hands run through his soft, blond hair, playing with each strand. With his mouth not leaving mine, he guides me towards one of the huge, plush couches and lies on top of me. Niall fingers the seam of my panties. A tingling sensation fills my stomach and I can feel myself becoming flush with our body heat.
“Keep still,” he says, stopping my body from wriggling underneath his from excitement and curiosity. Suddenly, Niall reaches into the back pocket of his jeans. The room was dark, but from the light of the moon, I see something glint in Niall’s hand. My smile disappears as I realise what it was. Engraved in the handle of the platinum blade was an L. I’ve seen this knife before…but where? It seemed like a thousand years ago. My ecstasy was quickly replaced by a growing fear.

“N-Niall… why do you have that?” My voice was quiet. Niall smirked.
“More than you will imagine, remember?” Niall looks down at the knife in admiration. “Beautiful, isn’t it? Like you,” he says. I don’t answer. My voice had been stolen by my dismay.
“You want to know a secret?” He whispers. I stare at the platinum blade, I was lost for words. “Well do you?” He said in aggravation. His knee dug into my inner thigh — hard.
I yelped, “What is your secret?” I choked back my developing sobs. He grins from ear to ear and tilts his head.
“It was made just for you, Y/N,” he slides his index finger on the un-sharped edge of the blade. “Do you want to know what number three is?”
I vigorously shook my head no, my cheeks damp.
“Hmm…I think you should.” He places the tip of the knife just a few inches above my belly button. I stiffen under the freezing blade.
“You know, I wanted to have a mini you and me. He would be right here. But, you are just so stubborn,” Niall clucks his tongue in disapproval. “Don’t you want to have our baby, Y/N? Someone to call our own?”
I wanted to admit, yell even, that I do want to have Niall’s kids. I mean, I did. I wouldn’t ever let a psychopath become the father of any kids I bear. Just the thought angered me into a million pieces.
“Answer me,” he growled.
“No,” I said, barely audible.
“What?” He seethed.
“N-No!” I yell in his face. He chuckles.
“That’s too bad. We would’ve made great parents. I would have named a girl Jenny or Jennifer, or a little boy, Tyler. But I would have let you choose the names. Men are horrible at that. Wouldn’t you say?”
“Y-you’re not scaring me, Niall.”
“Am I not? Well lets see. Where should I cut you first?”
I swallowed hard. This was it. I haven’t fully accepted that I am going to die in less than a minute. My life, everything flashed before my eyes.
“Here?” He drew a straight line across my neck lightly with the tip of the blade. He then moved the blade in a vertical line from my forearm to the inner side of my wrist.
“Or here?” The blade slid across the underside of my stomach where a C-Section would be performed. I close my eyes, waiting for this all to be over. I feel the blade tracing patterns all over my body. Suddenly, the blade is gone.
“You know what, I’ll let you choose.”
My eyes flutter open. I looked at him, confused.
“Please, don’t do this,” I pleaded.
“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t,” he demands.
“B-because. I love you! Just don’t…please…”
He deciphers this. His expression becomes careless when he looks down at me again. “Not good enough.”

He raises the knife and the last thing I see is blood—my blood— splattering his face.