Izobel rolled her eyes pulling away from him. “Yes, I do.”
Abel swallowed hard, his mouth falling open like he wanted to say something but couldn’t quite form the words. He dropped his head shaking it back and forth. Eyes shut against the consequences he courted just for thinking it.
“You could run.”
“I thought you said there was no point?” she asked.
“On your own, you don’t stand a chance,” he scoffed. “But with John… with me there to protect you…” He left the rest hanging in the nether between them.
Izobel’s annoyance disappeared in a puff. That he would even offer that told her so much. She touched his cheek, sliding her hand over the rough texture of his five o’clock shadow.
“This will work. You know how I know? Because the price is so high. Your plan will work. We’ll make it through the ritual and we’ll go from there. You don’t have to leave your home for me, Abel.”
Izobel sat there stunned and a little dizzy. You see, she believed love existed. She just never thought anyone could ever feel it for her. Afraid of the disappointment when people proved her right, she ran from every relationship ever offered. In one foolish notion, he made her a believer. Izobel didn’t know what to do with that.
“Then let me help you. It’s bad enough you insist on doing it. You shouldn’t have to bear this alone.”
She didn’t have a reason to tell him no. Izobel was sick to her stomach with the idea of this. To kill a man with a blade coming at you didn’t phase her one bit. He made that choice. He forced her hand. But to hunt down an unsuspecting person and cut their heart out was a heavy matter indeed. She couldn’t just hand the deed off to Abel either. She’d never be able to live with herself.
Izobel came to her feet. She needed some distance. There wasn’t anything different. The shapes were all the same. The colors matched, and still, she could not keep her bearings in this conversation. Every synapse begged her to end this before it got too deep. She knew the awful truth. You can only tread water for so long. Eventually, everyone drowns.
She just couldn’t walk away. Everything about him felt like home. So many thoughts forced her to make a decision. She went right back. Pushing him back against the bed, she climbed onto his lap.
“You can’t avoid every conversation with sex,” he gasped between kisses.
“Wanna bet?” she asked rolling her hips.
62
Chapter
Conner paced. He should have been here an hour ago. A shard of nail whipped through the air. It was a horrible habit to chew his nails, but he did it every time he was stressed. A twig snapped in the distance and Conner whirled toward the sound.
Kye stumbled through the trees hunched and in pain. The worst of it healed over his trip. His slurping shirt told the tale of their horror. A few broken ribs didn’t want to set right. He pressed his hand over the spot trying to hold them into place. Nothing sucked more than having to re-break a bone that had healed wrong.
A glance of the state of his shattered face and Conner knew exactly what happened. “You let her live didn’t you?”
“You said it yourself. We need pups,” he snapped, reminding Conner of their last fight. Yeah, Kye was still pissed Conner tried to talk him into bearing a child to please his father. “I mean who am I to snuff a potential just to make my father smile.”
“Don’t be such a bitch. I was right and you know it. It would solve all our problems,” Conner scolded poking at one of the deeper cuts on Kye’s chest. Conner slid out of his leather jacket and laid it over Kye’s shoulders.
“I won’t be him.” Kye shook his head, eyes welling with tears.
“I know, Kye.” Conner said compassionately.
The photograph he was given even looked like his mother. They had similar eyes. Delicate and beautiful as a China doll, not to mention docile and obedient as any slave. Was it just a long line of men who saw their end coming, and had no way to stop it? Was Eito a scared little boy forced to carry a stranger through this life in return for a son? Kye could see how such hatred built up between them. The details were so evident it would certainly happen to him. That’s why he was so scared of the prospect.
An epiphany struck him like a meteor falling from outer space. He had to break that circle. Kye grabbed Conner’s arm.
“Come with me,” he begged.
Conner’s shoulders sank. He would fallow this man into hell and back again if that was where he wanted to go. But damn it, he had an obligation to his brothers. Conner’s mouth fell open with his answer.
“I can’t stay here anymore, Conner. I can’t.”
Several pathways opened up before him. Outcomes wove themselves into existence under different parameters and possibilities. It didn’t take them long to boil down and congeal into two distinct outcomes. Neither of them were all that attractive if he was being honest with himself.
Both Johnny and Abel were so star struck with newfound love they were both willing to let the pillars of the castle crumble, why should he bow and scrape to spend his life chained to the Merrick name.
Conner balled his fist in Kye’s shoulder-length auburn hair. He kissed him gentle in deference to the bruises leaching back into his skin. They embraced.
“I’m yours, Kye.”
63
Chapter
The music thumped with a heavy beat and ominous measures. She sidled up to the bar. Leather pants fit her like a second skin. Silver silk clung to her modest cleavage. Her long black hair pulled back in a severe ponytail. Her electric blue irises stood out with an assist from her smoky makeup and pale lips.
She was well aware of the man down the bar checking her out. Izobel put a little vamp into her stature just for him. The bartender leaned close to hear her order of Vodka and cranberry juice. She turned to face the dance floor, rubbing colored salt and a mixture of fragrant oil and herbs between her fingertips. Her lips moved with the chant of magic.
Izobel’s lips pulled up in a venomous smile when he moved toward her through the crowd. It didn’t take him long to move on her. Then again, she supposed, he didn’t really have a choice. She laced her trap with the brightest lures.
He looked just a little star-struck. Magic will do that to you. Dark eyes and the hair to match was slicked back from a high forehead. Thin brows arched over a pointed nose and thick full lips. He had just a smattering of bristles at his sides and chin. Handsome enough to temp even her. His smile didn’t hold a candle to Abel’s, though. His suit looked expensive.
“You’re the most gorgeous thing in this bar,” he said. His accent was thick and lyrical.
“Thank you for noticing,” she said tipping back her drink.
“Do you dance?” he asked leaning against the bar.
“Exceedingly well,” she answered.
“Well, then you’ll have to show me,” he said holding out his hand.
Izobel took it and his arm twitched with a jolt of the mark biting into him. The spell hooked into every part of him, spilling up his spine into his brain. He froze for just a moment and then the world crashed back in, flooding him with the minutia of detail.
Righting his falter, he led her out into the throng of gyrating people. Izobel took in a halting breath. Suddenly she didn’t want to be here. And she hated herself a little for it.
Zoe’s life depended on how this night was about to end. Not to mention Johnny. She may not have started this road for him but she wanted to give him this. She wanted it for Abel.
They broke the line of people weaving in between lovers and friends. There was no going back now. Izobel steeled herself for the next part of the sacrifice. She’d killed before. Hunting was another matter entirely.
***
Abel raised his knuckle to knock. Thought better of it. Turned around and sighed, chin falling to his chest, eyes closed. He didn’t bother knocking, just barged into the room words falling from his lips loud enough to quiet any objection. Abel found he didn’t need to worry a
bout it. She wasn’t here. The room was dark.
Abel flipped the light on to be greeted by the Grimalkin she let follow her about. Abel didn’t trust it. Oh, the creature belonged in every way to the Sparrow. But that was a give in, Izobel was that spellbinding. He didn’t doubt the loyalty to her. But werewolves are territorial by nature.
“Where the hell is she?” Abel asked.
The furry leviathan purred loudly, and gave a single, ringing, “Meow,” in answer.
Lace and silk dotted the creaking wood floor. She hung wind chimes near the window. They hummed and tolled delightfully. Izobel sure liked her plants. A bag sat on the bed with a notebook on top.
He eyed it, pacing back and forth. Abel peered around the corner to see if anyone was in the hallway. No one there. No excuse to leave it where he’d found it. He could admit to curiosity and want for a peek into her mind.
Abel huffed out an annoyed breath and snatched the thing. He flipped through the pages marveling at the little drawings of vines and sacred geometry spirals. There were even a few pressed flowers and leaves shuffled in among the pages.
Her penmanship was an inky scrawl tucked into the nooks and crannies left to it. Folded pages fell onto the bed. They weren’t from the book. Different paper. He looked closer at them. The first page was different writing, cramped and compact. It urged Izobel to give up any ideas of what she had in mind. The cost was too much to bear.
The next few were diagrams of incantations and drawings of symbols. The last page was yet more warnings and doomsaying. Though he supposed the final argument was enough to sway him. The words human sacrifice underlined several times and decorated with a half-dozen exclamation points.
And there it was, the ugly cost. He wasn’t sure why he’d ever let himself be swayed by the promise of magic. The universe just doesn’t work that way. It’s supposed to be balanced. That’s the hope we hold on to. There are those that still have it in them to hope for better things. That inclination had been slapped right out of Abel’s mouth more than a time or two.
He wouldn’t talk her out of this. But he damned sure wouldn’t let her carry it alone either. Abel closed the pages back into the book and walked down the hall. He poked his head into Johnny’s bedroom. They were cuddled together on the bed. Johnny read aloud from a battered paperback. Zoe played on her phone. She looked up.
“Where’s the Sparrow?” he asked Zoe but it was John who answered.
“She went into town. Why?”
Abel frowned.
***
The door exploded outward and they stumbled out into the alley the kiss growing between them. Izobel’s eyes snapped open with the guilt and fantasy of Abel. It just popped up out of nowhere, sudden and surprising.
Her emotions were a thick soup. Not even hardy, just hard to swallow. She chased the thought. Where it began was an obsession borne of revulsion of the situation she found herself swimming in. She would do it. She would do it because no matter how she did the math her sister was more important than her victim.
Yes. Whatever his degree of innocence, he deserved that classification. Izobel accepted fully that her deeds were monstrous. But sometimes the world needs a monster. They get things done.
They slammed into the brick wall on the far side of the alley. Another rocket of Abel detonated falling like confetti around that frame. Something about him was magnetic. He was a sharp spike that melted and dripped warm over her skin.
The fingertips pawing at her lent her mental gymnastics a grounded element. She was a fan of all five of her senses. He ground his hips, mouth drifting over her chin and down her throat. But it didn’t match the highlights of Abel’s touch.
It was jarring, ripped her out of that flow. He was insistent. Ready to dive into her. Controlling. He grasped so hard it left bruises in his wake. There is such a fine line between holding and hurting.
Her dying enthusiasm pushed him toward an edge and added a sharpness to his handling. He grabbed a handful of her hair and yanked her head back. Izobel hissed. Her pretense fell away. The Sacrifice bit her throat, burying his teeth in her flesh.
Torn apart by blunted blades hurt like a bitch. Izobel wrenched back and forth trying to tear free of his grip. The pain focused her down to tunnel vision. Her arms burst free, but he clamped down around her hips.
Izobel shoved the palm of her hand at his chest. A glancing blow, but it did the trick. Low vibration disrupted his heartbeat and sent pain pulsing through him. It bought her a few inches as he shuddered. He recovered fast. His backhand sent her stumbling toward the brick ledge etched down the length of the building at her back.
***
Abel got out, shutting the truck door and crossing against the light. The thump of the club could be heard all the way on the other side of the block. A long line wrapped the front of the building. Purple and green lights set against the coal-black sky reflected off the slick metal of the cars parked on the opposite side.
Lavender and linen, her scent danced on the air just as graceful as Izobel moved. He followed it down the block. People minded their own business as he passed. Still, he was sure to keep his head down.
***
Izobel came up and he was gone. The alleyway had an eerie stillness. The vibration of the club rattled her bones. Without taking her eyes off the mouth, she lifted a piece of two by four off the ground. He was fast she’d give him that. He had a punch that landed like a ton of bricks.
His last hit left her reeling. Blood dripped from a cut above her eyebrow. The lights were a little too bright and oversaturated. She swallowed her thumping heartbeat and moved down the alley with deliberate steps and a wary eye.
Abel swung around the corner and caught sight of her. He jogged closer, sighing in relief.
“There you are.”
Izobel spun lifting the club. Her expression crumbled into a mixture of mild annoyance.
“What are you doing here?” she demanded, relaxing.
“I came to try one more time to talk you out of this,” he said exasperated. She wouldn’t come closer so he went to her. “I know what it’s like to destroy your life to save someone else. I know what it does to you. I know exactly why you got to do it, damn it. I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”
“You have the worst timing,” she snapped glancing around their surroundings.
He showed genuine concern, even reached out to touch her chin. “What happened to you?”
“He’s here somewhere!”
Abel’s shoulders fell. “We need to think about what we’re doing here, Sparrow.”
“I don’t have time for your second thoughts and guilt-tripping, Abel. This has to be done.”
“I know my kid brother. He wouldn’t want anyone else to die for him. And I know Zoe wouldn’t risk losing you for a little bit of suffering.”
Izobel stopped. Tears shining in her eyes she closed them, her expression showed the fight against her guilt.
“My sister is all that matters.”
“We’ll make it work another way.” Abel touched her cheek.
That was the kind of thing she liked most about him. That shining hope he clung to. He was a believer. Fate looked kindly on people like them. He was sure of it. Even after all he’d seen. Matter of fact, that, made him hold on all the tighter to the idea.
Isn’t it funny how the one thing you’re searching for is often what others see first about you?
Izobel hung her head. She didn’t want to do this. We have to live with ourselves at the end of the day. No one else’s opinion mattered but yours.
They could run. Lock her up on the full moons. It meant a life of playing her sister’s keeper but Izobel would take that deal any day of the week.
The Sacrifice intruded in the lull and intimacy of their moment by colliding with Abel from behind. A flash disappeared as the knife plunged deep into Abel’s side. He roared, throwing his head back. Abel grit his teeth. Abel brought his hands together and drove them into the Sacrifice’s shou
lders once and then again a little bit harder the second time.
Careening off the bricks at his back Abel hurled two rabbit punches to the guy’s kidneys. He held back. Abel came here to stop her from killing him, not to do it for her. He’d tousled with his fair share of Folk, even a human or two and he’d give it to this guy, he could take a hit.
The jagged slice beneath his ribs mended together and shrank with every second. The pain lingered. Hooking into his brain, Abel had to push past the stunning ring of its clarity. The sacrifice pressed his advantage, tearing the knife free. His skin tore with the blunt edge. That’s the bitch of rapid healing. Metal and bone stayed inside the wounds. A jarring sensation it left him stunned.
The Sacrifice changed his grip and sliced across Abel’s chest. Abel grit his teeth and tipped forward. He leaned into the hook. Sloppy though it was it did its work against the Sacrifice.
The knife clacked, bouncing, it ended up several feet away in the debris littered near the trashcans. Izobel dove for it. She came up with an empty can just to drop it back at her feet and try again. Her hand closed around it and she tried to take a step at the same time. Not in these heels.
Abel stumbled with his cross. The glancing blow spun the Sacrifice and Abel used the momentum to wrap his forearm across the guy’s throat. Leaning backward he clawed at Abel’s grip.
The knife went in with zero resistance. So light, it didn’t feel real. The sacrifice glanced up and he was just as surprised as she was. The moment passed with pomp and circumstance and then she took in a deep breath just to blow it free a moment later. Her grip tightened on the hilt and she dug the blade deeper.
He was dead. Whatever else that meant she needed the foci first. She would deal with the rest of it as it came. Her hands shook. Her eyes were wide and just a little haunted. And that expression right there is why he came to stop her.
Life is a sacred thing. Abel knew first hand we all have a price we’ll sell it for. And hers looked an awful lot like the ones he’d made his choices for. He was all too understanding to her plight. He knew what you lost in the deal.
Aching Silver (House of Wolves Book 1) Page 23