by Jacey Ward
She’s not a woman; she’s Jezebel.
“You have exactly one second to spit out whatever bile you are dying to vomit.”
When her mouth curved into a smile, Dante felt his anger rise again, but with it, a seed of doubt. Her blue eyes shined deviously as she gloated.
“Arya took the book because she believes there is a spell in it that she needs.”
Dante grunted in annoyance.
“You’re really too much,” he muttered.
“She thinks it contains the Shroud of Protection,” Rowan continued, seeing that she was losing her audience.
“And I wonder where she got that idea,” Dante snapped, rolling his eyes in exasperation.
“You’re not asking the bigger question, Dante,” she replied. “The question is, why does sweet Arya need a Shroud of Protection? What is plaguing her so terrifyingly, that she would practically invite her own murder to deal with it?”
That is a good question, he realized, his brow furrowing.
“So speak up then, your time is waning quickly. What does she need a Shroud for?”
Rowan’s tongue slipped out to trace her bottom lip and she took a dramatic pause before answering.
“Her child is sick.”
The words didn’t make sense to Dante and he stared at her, uncomprehendingly.
She never told me she had a child.
“What’s wrong with her child?”
“The child has HID.”
Waves of static seemed to slide over him, a strange echoing filling his ears as he realized exactly what Rowan was saying.
“No,” he growled. “There’s no way.”
“It’s true,” she sighed. “But I’m afraid it’s too late for her now.”
Dante’s eyes widened and he ground his brilliant teeth together.
“What?” he hissed. “Why?”
Rowan shrugged.
“She’s been sick for weeks. A babe so small with HID? Her chances aren’t good. My vision says she’ll be dead by sun-up.”
Chapter 11
“Give it to me!” Circe growled, her voice low so as not to wake Jasmine who was asleep in her arms. “I will get it back to Dante. He won’t shoot the messenger, especially when I tell him why you did it. Arya, what other choice do we have? He’s going to find you sooner or later, and we better get ahead of this. There still might be hope for Jasmine!”
Everything Circe said made sense, but Arya could not send her best friend into the line of fire.
But what choice do I have? Her life or Jasmine’s?
She felt sick that it had come to such a choice and she protested weakly but she knew that whatever arguments she offered Circe would be overridden.
“This is not your problem,” she murmured. “I’ll go. You don’t need to be involved with this. Just please…stay with her. And…hold her?” she choked on her emotions with the last words, the image of her precious baby girl dying without her mother actually causing a burning tear to rip down her chest.
“No!” Circe ordered. “You’ll be killed on sight. There will be no negotiations. You stole the fucking Chasm of Guile. You’re as good as dead. At least I have half a chance.”
Arya slowly nodded miserably, knowing her friend spoke the truth, her eyes welling with tears again.
Jasmine lay lifeless in her arms and Arya could feel the toddler slipping away from her as the seconds ticked by.
“You’ll be safe here,” Circe promised, leaning down to embrace her best friend and the child gently. “No one will look for you at my place.”
Arya was sure she would never feel safe anywhere ever again.
One way or another, it will all be over soon, she told herself, gulping back the lump in her throat. Either we will be saved or we’ll be dead.
Circe rose, her face an expression of confidence which Arya knew she could not possibly feel.
“I’m Norse,” she reminded Arya. “No one fucks with us. Not even the overlords, okay? You don’t need to worry.”
Arya tried to smile through her tears, but it was obviously forced.
She squeezed Jasmine closer to her body and willed herself not to sob.
“You have to trust me, Arya. You got in too deep, but we’ll get out of this, I promise- “
“No!” Arya cried and Jasmine stirred slightly before falling back limply against her. “Don’t promise me anything except that you will be safe. If you sense danger, get the hell out of there. If you – “
“Arya, you know me. I’ll be fine. The next time you see me, I’ll be back – with a Shroud of Protection for our Jasmine.”
She didn’t give Arya an opportunity to reply, blowing a kiss as she flew out the door to the garage.
Arya closed her eyes, rocking her daughter gently in her arms as she kissed her softly on her damp head.
She didn’t need anyone to tell her just how close they were to the end.
It felt as if Jasmine was barely breathing in her arms, and with each jagged inhale, Arya’s own life seemed to be slipping away too.
She closed her eyes, holding tight to what could potentially be the final moments with her baby, her mind whirling with any last-minute ideas to save them all.
But she had already been down that road a dozen times.
There was nothing left to do but wait.
Wait for Rowan to find her.
Wait for Dante to kill her.
Or wait for Jasmine to die.
Chapter 12
Her head fell back against the cushioned recliner and her breathing became deep and even. Somehow, she knew she was in the room next to the one where Jasmine slept, yet the clouds swirled around Arya’s subconscious, creating another world. Her heartbeat raced as she realized…he was there.
“Why didn’t you just tell me?” he asked, his bizarre, multicolored eyes swirling hypnotically. “I could have helped you if you had just told me the truth.” His hands, cupping her face, slid upward into her hair as he drew her head forward so he could place a heated kiss on her forehead, a frustrated growl reverberating through him.
“I didn’t want you to know about Jasmine. You’re a demon! What kind of father would you make?” she protested, confused but yet adamant about her defense.
“And you made a better mother? A thief who put the whole Deviant underworld at risk for civil war?”
She bristled and tried to turn her head away but he didn’t permit it, his hands gripping her face harder.
“No,” he snapped. “You don’t get to escape this time. I searched for you, whether or not you want to believe it. I came back for you, but you had moved. I was stuck in purgatory for a year and all I could think about was finding you. But when I finally found a way out, you were gone.”
She struggled against his hold but her efforts were futile.
Staring at him, she willed him to release her, but a traitorous part of her mind was thrilled to be in his arms again. How could I feel that way, she railed at herself. After everything I went through because of him. But as he lowered his mouth to hers, he paused, his irises searching her face.
“Why are you so angry?”
She shifted her eyes downward but he was relentless.
“Tell me!”
“I thought you abandoned me,” she whispered. “I waited – it seemed like forever. And I searched for you, but no demon I found knew where you were. I thought you had lied to me…and just didn’t want to see me again. Like I was just a challenge that you had conquered and then…laughed about. Turned your back on…” she paused, trying to drag in enough air to say the real reason she had avoided him after she had heard he was back in town. “…and I never wanted my baby to feel that pain.”
His lips met hers then, and the kiss was an explosion of pent-up emotions.
Deep and true, and without manipulation. And when she raised her eyes to look at him, she was immediately brought back to the night they met, the magnetic hold he seemed to have over her.
Dante swept her into his
arms and then they were on the floor, floating in nothingness, the dream a black fog around them, as they entwined themselves in each others’ arms and legs, suddenly naked and melting together.
He was inside her, on top of her, below her. She was riding him, her back arched, as he lifted his hips up to thrust deeper inside her, the connection they had experienced before coming back to her and creating powerful zings of pleasure and power to spiral within her.
“You and me from now on,” he growled, each thrust driving deeper than the last. “There’s nothing keeping us apart now.”
“You forgive me?” she breathed, bucking against him, taking his shaft further inside. “You understand why I had to do it?”
“No,” he replied, his thumb sneaking around to torture her clit, the fingers of his other hand digging deeper into her hips. “And I will never forgive you.”
Consternation filled her as she tried to arch off of him, but instead he whirled both of them over, taking the position of control as his hand fisted in her hair, his breaths becoming harsh as he finally had an angle to thrust even deeper within her. She moaned in pleasure, her body climbing quickly toward a cataclysmic explosion. She tried desperately to keep her mind what he had said to her in this make-believe world.
“But I did it for – “
“Shh!” he ordered, crushing her lips with his. His tongue snaked out to invade her mouth in time with the thrusts of his cock.
Arya cried out, her body skyrocketing toward climax. She tried to hold back, knowing she had to convince him, but he was determined to bring her to orgasm. Just like that, the memories of their one and only night together came flooding back to her. Her body responding to the thoughts of the many ways he had made her come that night.
“Just come for me, Arya,” he demanded.
But she couldn’t. Confusion filled her and suddenly, the crushing realization that she was dreaming crashed down on her.
Her eyes flew open, and it took a moment to orient herself, sparks of fire still sizzling through her body, in spite of the hard chair she slept on. Gasping breaths labored from her and her pulse roared in her ears as she whipped her head around, frantically looking for her daughter.
In the next room! She leaped up from the chair, her dream forgotten, as she ran toward the room. She tried to quiet her approach as she opened the bedroom door, in case Jasmine was sleeping. She could just make out her daughter’s toes on the tiny bed around the corner where Arya had lovingly placed her earlier.
She raced to her and stared down at her daughter.
“Jasmine?” she whispered. She ran her hand softly down the child’s face, trying to hold back tears as her heart broke for the small girl. She didn’t want to disturb Jasmine’s sleep, but she couldn’t stop herself from gathering the small child into her arms. Jasmine moaned softly, as if even that small movement pained her little body, and Arya’s world crumbled even further.
The tears flowed down her cheeks and fell onto Jasmine’s hair, the girl lost again in sleep. Arya held her daughter’s tiny body for hours, until she too dozed fitfully.
At one point, she shot upright, somehow aware that something had changed.
She shook the sleeping girl. “Please, baby, open your eyes!”
But the little girl did not respond.
A low wail escaped her lips, piercing into the darkened condo as Arya buried her face in the child’s hair.
There was a heartbeat, one which mortal ears would have been unable to detect, and Arya knew that this was it. The final moments with her daughter. She wept harshly as the reality of it hit her once again.
Oh, God, she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t let her go! The finality of her failure fell upon her shoulders with a crushing weight.
Circe had not been successful in her quest, it seemed.
Everyone you love is gone now.
“I’m so sorry,” she sobbed, her body trembling. “I am so, so sorry, my baby.”
Reality disappeared and Arya was floating above her body, watching herself cradling Jasmine.
They were both dead now, really,for all intents and purposes. Arya knew she couldn’t survive without her baby girl.
Their lives were over before they had even begun.
A loud crash startled her out of her misery. And there before her, Dante loomed. His fierce countenance caused her chest to ache.
Kill me. Just go ahead and kill me. It’s over now anyways. I’ve lost…everything.
“Give her to me,” Dante ordered, striding toward them, his steely eyes locked on hers.
“No!” she protested, shaking her head. “No! She’s my baby!”
“Arya, give her to him.”
Circe appeared at his back, her amber eyes pleading with her friend.
“He’s not going to hurt her.”
Arya began to sob as Dante gently raised Jasmine into his arms, his eyes studying her face. The pain in his gaze was unmistakable as he pressed her close, a low murmur escaping his mouth.
“Light six candles in a circle,” Dante ordered the Valkyrie. “Do it fast. She’s about to slip away.”
Circe jumped to obey and Arya sat weakly, watching and listening.
The chant grew louder from the demon’s mouth and when Circe had finished, he sat inside the protective circle, rocking his daughter in long, rhythmic movements.
“Close your eyes and focus your healing on her,” Dante instructed, but it was an unnecessary order. Both she and Circe had already started a prayer circle of their own.
Clasping hands, they waited, and outside, the grey light of dawn tried to break through the horizon.
There was an urgency in Dante’s words now and Arya forced herself to maintain control, the tiny flame of hope within her threatening to snuff out any second.
Concentrate! This is your daughter’s life, you need to stay strong!
Suddenly a blast of frigid air shot through the condo, snuffing out the flames of the candle. Dante remained motionless, his eyes closed and his jaw clenched hard. The strain was evident on his body, but what he was straining for or against was a mystery. Then, without warning, his eyes opened wide and he held Arya’s panicked gaze.
It hadn’t worked! He couldn’t do it!
The scream which wanted to erupt from Arya’s lips died there as her mouth parted to stare at him in disbelief.
Circe clenched her hands tightly, their eyes meeting in horrified shock as Dante’s head bowed in exhaustion. His chin reached his chest as his arms sagged, little Jasmine’s body still gripped tightly within them.
No! Nooooo…
At once, the candles reignited and the wicks danced higher than before.
“What’s happening?” Arya choked, racing across the hardwood toward her daughter, but Dante’s head shot up, his growling voice and piercing gaze stopping her in her tracks.
“Stop!”
With great resolve, she paused, her eyes fixed on the tiny body of her child.
Come on, baby. Wake up. Show us you’re okay. Please, Jasmine. Please!
Slowly, Jasmine’s chest began to rise and fall visibly, her breaths no longer shallow and choppy.
“It’s working!” she choked. “She’s – “
The girl lifted her head, blinking several times.
“Mama?”
“Yes, baby! Yes, I’m here!”
Arya leapt into the middle of the protective circle, uncaring of how Dante felt about it, scooping her daughter into her arms.
“Look at me,” she whispered to Jasmine. “How are you feeling?”
The toddler nodded, a wry smile forming on her rosebud lips.
“Hungry. Ice cream?”
“Yes!” Arya gasped, her face soaked with tears. “You can eat ice cream for the rest of your life if you want.”
“Really?”
Arya laughed and sniffled, her eyes falling on Dante’s unsmiling face.
Her own beam faded slightly, and she cleared her throat, reluctant to release Jasmine.
“Baby, go with Auntie Circe. I think she has ice cream for you.”
“I’m a model,” Circe scoffed. “I have sugar-free sorbet.”
Arya gave her friend a pleading look and Circe sighed.
“Come on, rug rat,” she called. “Let’s go find you some ice cream.”
Jasmine stood, slightly unsteadily to her feet and followed Circe into the kitchen, leaving Dante and Arya alone.
“Thank you,” she murmured as soon at the pair was out of earshot. “I – thank you.”
She didn’t know what else to say and she found it impossible to meet his eyes, her heart sick with what she had done to him.
“No,” Dante said flatly. “That’s not good enough.”
Arya’s mouth trembled slightly but she forced herself not to cry. Jasmine was safe now and that was all that mattered. There was no longer a reason to cry for anything.
She deserved any punishment which Dante decided upon. And in the demon world, that included death. She held her breath as she decided that as long as Jasmine was out of harm’s way, she could accept death if there was no other way. She wouldn’t die happily, but at least she now knew that Dante would take care of their daughter.
“I know,” she told him. “It’s not good enough. But I am here, ready to accept my penance.”
She lifted her eyes and stared boldly at him, seeing the infuriated pain in his eyes. His fists clenched, as if he had to hold himself back from raising a hand to her.
“I’m ready to die.”
Chapter 13
Dante swallowed back the harsh accusations he wanted to throw at her, the disbelief and hurt that she had kept his daughter from him all this time. He studied her face.
Fuck! I want to be angry with her, he fumed. He needed to release some of his pain and frustration.
But when he studied her, he saw the buried pain, the years of worry, the toll that being a single mother had taken on her. She had done everything in her power to keep their daughter safe. Yes, she had fucked up royally by turning to Rowan instead of himself, but he tried to hold back that hurt.
If he had been in her place, would he have done the same? He realized that she hadn’t known that he would come back eventually. She probably thought he had deserted her on purpose. Of course she thought that. He hadn’t been able to tell her differently back then.