by J. L. Weil
Q, Scarlett, and I used a portal to get Jensen to his bedroom. His roommates were probably all at the Pressed Cafe still celebrating… I hoped.
Tucked in bed and resting from his injuries, he slept soundly. I stayed in the shadows, listening to the steady beat of his heart, reassured by the sound. I studied his face, the downward turn of his sensual lips. He was alive. And if I had anything to do with it, he was going to stay that way.
He might be confused and disorientated when he woke up, but it was better than the alternative.
Chapter 4
I had a paper to outline for English 101, but it was a trivial task. When you’ve lived for as long as I had, things like papers seemed miniscule in the grand scheme of life. How many times could I write the same essay?
The downfall of not aging: I spent a lot of time in high school and college when I wasn’t in Hell.
Blurry-eyed, I grabbed my notebook, a pencil, and a to-go mug of coffee before trekking across the yard to Jensen’s. I would have rather used the portal from my room to his, but I didn’t want to freak him out.
A soul aligned with the edge of my vision, and I sighed. “I don’t have time for you. Give me a few hours and I’ll take you then.”
The little old lady nodded.
I bounded up the Westfalls’ white porch and rang the doorbell. Jensen answered the door, and my eyes drank him in. In jogging pants, no socks, and a black T-shirt, he stood in the doorway with a grin plastered on his lips. “Hey.”
My heart tripped.
Stupid heart. It was always getting in the way, and if I wasn’t careful, it would hurt not just Jensen, but me. “How was your night?” I asked, fishing to see how much he remembered. Although I had used a memory rune last night, I wanted to make sure it had taken. Healing Jensen had been a big no-no. It was against the rules, but when it came to Jensen’s well-being, I didn’t give a rat’s ass about the rules.
He forked his fingers through his hair. “Strange. Did we, uh, meet up at the Pressed Cafe?”
“Only for a few minutes. You weren’t feeling well. How you do feel now?”
“Better now that you’re here.”
There went my heart again, pounding against my ribs in triple time. I hugged the notebook against my chest, careful not to spill coffee on myself. “Are you always this nice to the new girls?”
He snorted. “Hardly. Actually, I haven’t had much time for girls between school and lacrosse.”
I followed him inside and up the stairs to his bedroom. The house was typical guy territory—worn couches, oversized TVs, and empty bottles on the coffee table. I tried to keep my mind off the fact that I walked alone with Jensen into his bedroom. The house again, like last night, was quiet. “Where is everyone?” I asked, taking a seat on the floor with my back against his bedframe. It seemed safer on the floor than on his bed.
He joined me, grabbing a book off his bed. “Who knows? Grabbing breakfast, hitting the gym, or nursing a hangover somewhere. They’ll be gone most of the day.”
“Oh, okay. So where do we start?” How about his lips, then his cheeks and his chin? my mind answered.
Gah. I would never finish this paper. Not that I really cared, but how would I concentrate when all I could think about was pressing my lips to his skin?
Jensen blinked as though he had been in a trance. “Uh, your outline. Did you bring it?”
For the next hour, Jensen occupied the center of my universe. I didn’t really need help with my English paper or my calculus problems. I’d written this paper a thousand times and could solve these equations in my head, blindfolded, and tied to a chair. I didn’t recommend doing math that way, unless you were into kinky foreplay.
One side of his mouth tipped up as he tapped his pencil on the pad of paper. “It is so weird that you showed up yesterday. I was literally thinking about you.”
“Really?” Not so strange when you thought about it. “Good things, I hope.”
A slow grin lifted at the corners of his sculpted lips as he angled his body toward me. “I swear this isn’t some cheesy excuse to hit on you. I’m not that douchey guy that gets a girl in his room and then makes the moves.”
“I know.”
“Good. Because I’m trying really hard not to kiss you.”
I was surprised by his boldness and cleared my throat. “Do you want to read this over and give me a few pointers? Make sure it’s not complete garbage?” I held up the paper between Jensen and his inviting lips.
Dear God, give me strength.
I hadn’t counted on Jensen being so forward. He should hate me. I had left without even a good-bye. I’d assumed it would be me trying to control my own hormones. Now I had to worry about his too.
He made a face as he skimmed my paper.
“What?” I tortured myself and glanced over his shoulder. My thigh brushed up against his.
“This is good. Really good. I think you should be tutoring me.”
I laughed. “Why do you seem so shocked?”
He tugged on the end of one of my curls, leaning closer and bringing with him his tantalizing scent. I wanted to inhale and soak him in. “I missed your laugh. I’d almost forgotten what it sounded like.”
All I could do was stare at his lips—oh, those perfect lips. The urge to throw myself at him threatened to become overwhelming. “Thanks.” I reached over him to grab my paper and our hands touched. A hot flush washed over my cheeks, spreading down … way down. A hundred fantasies unfolded, all of them involving Jensen and his god-sent lips.
When I came back here, I had told myself that Jensen was better off without me, that he had probably moved on. I had told myself when I left that it meant nothing to him.
I was wrong.
I could see it in his eyes. He remembered each moment we’d spent together just as I did. This might have been easier if the Fates had erased his memories.
“You’re cold,” he said, lacing our fingers together. His gaze studied our joined hands.
“I have the worst circulation,” I mumbled, not really thinking about anything but how incredibly warm his hands felt on my skin. My blood hummed, thawing my normally icy veins.
“Why can’t I stop thinking about you?” he asked in a husky voice.
His eyes were warm and hypnotic. Staring into them liquefied my artic blood. Heat flashed into his eyes as they moved to my lips. He was going to kiss me. My lips tingled in anticipation, and my heart kicked into hyper-drive. I shook my head. “Jensen, don’t. You don’t know what you’re doing. I’m not who you think I am—”
He kissed me.
Shit.
He moved ridiculously fast for a mortal. I didn’t even have a chance to react, or maybe I really hadn’t wanted to. I wondered in that instant how something that felt this amazing could be wrong. Why did I deny myself this simple pleasure because the gods deemed it so?
The brush of his lips was tentative at first, a gentle sweep against mine. My fingers curled and bunched against his shirt. I should have pushed him away and stopped the madness before it began, while I still had the willpower to do so. But at the first touch of his lips, I became helpless to do anything other than kiss him back.
A purr sounded deep in my throat that sent a shiver down my spine. His lips crushed against mine, and the sweet exploration turned to raw, breathtaking need. For a mortal, he kissed like he had a century of experience. His lips caressed mine, changing angles until they parted on a sigh. And then the kiss exploded. His tongue swept inside my mouth in hot demand, taking complete control.
My heart fluttered wildly as I turned into him, sending my fingers through his hair. A yearning so deep it frightened me spread from deep in my belly, shooting to the points that made my body ache. He deepened the kiss, our tongues dancing in a tango as old as time, sending my senses over the edge.
I didn’t just want a kiss. I wanted to possess Jensen. All of him: mind, body, and soul. I wanted him to think of nothing else, no one else but me, for as long as we both shall live. I
wanted to rune him—make him immortal.
That single thought snapped me out of the haze.
I would live forever, or at least what felt like forever. But Jensen … his years were numbered. He might only be eighteen, but by immortal standards, a human life was a blip. And I couldn’t turn him immortal. He deserved a normal life.
His stormy eyes churned with so many emotions, I couldn’t look away. “Your tongue is pierced,” he said in a daze. I couldn’t blame him. I had a hard time getting control of my own emotions. It was crazy how closely they were tied to my desires. My mind and body fought. “I don’t remember your tongue being pierced. What other secrets do you have?”
“You don’t want to know,” I whispered, not meaning for it to come out as an invitation, but a warning.
His voice was thick and warm against my cheek as he trailed a finger down my neck. “I can’t wait to uncover them all.”
I scowled. “Some secrets are better left buried.”
Chapter 5
“I-I need to go.” I blinked slowly before getting up and practically running from the house like a drama queen. Staying would have tempted me further. So much emotion churned inside of me that I needed to find a way to release it. A quick sweep of the neighborhood confirmed what I already knew. No souls lingered about—bad, sick, or dark. Oh well. Guess that meant I needed to go looking for trouble.
Sometimes, it was more fun that way.
I went immediately to my bedroom, taking the stairs two at a time to quickly change. Throwing on a pair of leather pants and a cropped black jacket, I then zipped up my boots. It was time to give my dagger a workout, and all of this excess energy inside me I needed to burn off. I had to get out of here—away from the enticement of Jensen. I needed to escort some souls out there to Hell, and one in particular I looked forward to hunting.
The leather felt cool against my flushed skin, an unusual sensation to my normal bone-chilling body temp. Maybe Talon was onto something I never considered. The duster still went a bit too far for me, but damn if leather didn’t work for him.
I sent a quick text to Scarlett, asking her if she wouldn’t mind babysitting Jensen for a few hours while I took care of some reaper business.
What? You think I have nothing better to do on a Saturday night? she replied.
Do you?
Two seconds later my phone chimed. You’re in luck. I’ll be there in a few minutes.
She wasn’t fooling anyone. Neither of us had anything going on. Pathetic, but the life of an immortal wasn’t as glamorous as one might think. Use the portal.
She was at the library studying. Is there any other way?
I rolled my eyes. Not for immortals. I stuffed my phone into my jacket pocket. It was kind of convenient, carrying human technology.
A moment later, the mirror in my room shimmered, and Scarlett stepped through it. Her red hair was tied up on top of her head in a messy bun, and she wore lounging pants. “Tell me we have something to eat?” She strolled into my room—comfortable here—and plopped onto my bed.
“Um, I think there is leftover pizza in the fridge.”
“Perfect. This stakeout biz always gives me the munchies.” She stretched across the bed and plucked the remote control off my nightstand. “Wow. You look hot.”
I tucked my dagger into the tight back pocket of my pants. “I owe you.”
She pointed the TV remote at me. “Don’t think I won’t collect, ho. I’m so envious. I want a hot mortal to drool over.”
“Yeah, yeah. Summon me if you sense anything suspicious. You should be able to see his room from my window.”
With the remote still in her hand, she air saluted me. “Aye, aye, Captain Bossy Pants. Go get you some souls.”
“Some days I hate you,” I grumbled.
Her laugh followed me as I walked through the portal. I came out on the other side by the alley of the Pressed Cafe. This was the last place I’d seen the dark soul.
I walked to the parking lot and took a deep breath. Anger grew inside me as the memory of seeing Jensen lying on the ground bleeding played through my head on a loop. The image was burned into my mind, along with intense fear. It was a feeling I never wanted to experience again.
If I lost him before I got a chance to tell him how I felt, it would haunt me for eternity.
I shook my head, refusing to let the dark thoughts consume me. Blind anger made me sloppy—the very last thing I needed when dealing with Mason. He was tricky. I needed to get on his level—to think evilly.
A moment later, a soul approached me. Oh yeah, I’d prepared to be a soul-collecting maniac.
Within an hour, I’d already escorted three souls to Hell—not bad, but also not astronomical by any means or world-record setting. But it did feel good. Sometimes souls found me, but most of the time, I sought them out. One of my abilities as a reaper enabled me to track them.
By the time I headed back to Raven Circle, I managed to bag and tag three more souls. My hands shivered, and I felt positive that the snot in my nose was frozen. I rotated my neck, easing the muscles. Nothing out of the ordinary had happened, just another run-of-the-mill soul gathering.
Maybe I had spoken too soon.
The first stirrings of unease hit me as I rounded the last dark corner. Jensen’s porch light lit up his house, glowing like a beacon. There, on the side of the house, I saw the shadows move. “Bastard,” I murmured.
Just when I thought my night was coming to an end.
A cool draft swept over my skin. I reached into my back pocket for my dagger, carefully creeping up the driveway. The porch light flickered before burning out completely. A dark senseless mass floated toward me, bringing the arctic air with him. It squeezed my chest, but I was used to the cold. For humans, it could be paralyzing.
Gotcha.
I extended my dagger, the matching runes glowing on my arms. The thing with dark souls: they sucked the essence out of everything. The grass turned black, leaves and flower petals withered, even the sounds of twilight faded.
The black mass that had once been Mason charged at me. I sent a stream from my dagger straight at the dark soul. It zeroed in toward the dark form, but at the last second, he managed to evade the beam and slipped through the exterior walls of the two-story house and into Jensen’s bedroom.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
Chapter 6
I despised dark souls with a burning passion. Their ability to walk through walls was damn inconvenient. I needed a portal and fast.
Casting a beam from my dagger, a swirling mass appeared. I only had to envision where I wanted to go, but the thing with air portals was you had to be fast. I jumped through the portal and into Jensen’s room. My body pumped with adrenaline as I acclimated to my surroundings. His room froze like an icebox—crystals formulating on the windows. My gaze went to Jensen—who watched me with wide-eyed shock—and then to the swirling dark mass hovering near the ceiling.
“Are you okay?” I asked. I’d forgotten to engage my invisibility runes. Nothing that couldn’t be fixed with a little bit of memory erasing, regardless of the fact that I absolutely hated using runes on Jensen. But what choice did I have?
“Uh. I think I’m having a nightmare,” he mumbled, shifting as far to the edge of the bed as he could. He eyed the swirling mass with suspicion and a touch of fear. A wiser mortal would have been scared shitless.
“I’ve been living in this nightmare for two years.” I rotated my dagger in the air. “Shove off, Mason.”
The soul dived.
Jensen tried to roll out of the way, but he wasn’t quick enough, and my heart halted. His gunmetal blue eyes grew large, shock and pain refracting inside them. It was never a pleasant experience to have a dark soul pass through you and even worse if you were possessed.
I was furious.
Mason didn’t possess Jensen, as I feared he would, but only passed through him, sucking up some of his energy.
He would pay for that.
It wa
s no walk in the park having a dark soul invade your personal space, even if only for a few moments. Once again, I felt conflicted with the decision to give chase or to stay with a distraught Jensen. My eyes bounced between Jensen and the window. I sunk against the wall, trying to pull my heart out of my stomach where it had dropped. I couldn’t leave him, not without repairing the damage I’d caused. It was because of me that the dark soul tormented Jensen.
He wanted revenge.
And one day soon, Mason would get his chance. I was done putting Jensen’s life in the crossfire of this two-decade-long feud between Mason and me. It was obvious that after years of hunting the dark soul on my own, I needed help. And only one reaper I knew of could get the job done. Hell’s favorite. It was time to call Talon.
But first, I needed to deal with Jensen. I angled my head to the side, wondering how to handle this. The expected way was for me to rune Jensen and blank out his memories of everything he saw here tonight. I didn’t know what stopped me. Maybe because this was the first time Jensen was seeing me. The real me. I’d always been curious what his reaction would be to learning who I was.
Would he be repelled? Would he be scared? Would he accept me?
“What the Hell was that?” Jensen gasped, staring at the spot where the dark soul had disappeared. His palm pressed to his heart as if it ached.
“It was a dark soul,” I answered. “A disgruntled Valkyrie that has it out for me.”
“A Valk-a-what?” he asked softly with a wary gaze. “I’m not dreaming, am I?”
I shook my head. “Afraid not, but I can make this all go away, if you’d like.” I didn’t know why I’d even given him the option.
He raked his fingers through his already rumpled hair. “I’m not entirely sure what you mean by that, but I’d rather hear what you know about this before I decide.”
Fair enough. “How do you feel?” His coloring was greyish and his expression pinched, as if he was fighting to stay lucid.
His hands rubbed over his face before he dropped his head back against the wall. “Like I might either pass out or throw up. Maybe both. I’m trying really hard not to embarrass myself in front of you.”