by Dara Kent
She fell into step beside me, offering herself for me to lean on. I did my best to resist, but that only lasted for a moment or two before my forearm was on her shoulder for support.
Grunting under my weight, even if it was partial, Lily led me slowly toward our car, each step labored. “If I didn’t know you, I would have taken you for a regular human hunter.”
Ungifted hunters, or unmarked human hunters, trained like nobody’s business and were nothing to laugh at, but compared to the marked brand of hunters, they were playing in the minors. “Which is why I think I’m getting sick.”
“Do you want to go to the doctor? Or the clinic? Or … I know! Have Jensen work some warlock healing magic on you!” She grinned as if she’d found the solution to world hunger.
“You know I don’t like him messing with my innards. What if something goes wrong?” Okay, fine. There was a possibility I’d watched one too many witch flavored shows when I was a kid where spells had a host of side effects, making the cake not worth the bake. I was paranoid to let Jensen do anything on me unless it was an emergency. If I was bleeding out, go for it. Anything short of that, no thank you.
Lily rooted around in my jacket pocket for the car keys. “You don’t take advantage of dating a warlock nearly enough.”
Folding myself into the passenger side of our Leaf, I couldn’t help the smile that tugged the corner of my lips up. “Oh, I take advantage plenty.”
“He doesn’t use magic during sex.” She stuffed the keys in the ignition and cranked.
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” I muttered.
Lily’s lower lip jutted out into a pout. “You don’t get to say things like that without expounding.”
“Whatever.” I closed my eyes, drifting as Lily drove us home.
Staring at my bedroom ceiling with the covers tucked tightly under my chin, my thoughts turned to the situation with Jensen. With the snap of his fingers, or really, a couple of orgasms, we were back together almost like nothing happened. We’d been split up for two months, me determined to stay separated from him permanently, and I’d pushed all of that under the rug. How exactly did that happen? Did I ever actually want to be broken up with him, or had I fooled myself into believing it was the best thing in some self-fulfilling, self-destructive rampage? I did like to play the self-tortured twice-marked hunter often enough. Or that’s what both Lily and my mother claimed.
My door swung open, and none other than Jensen himself strode in. Nibbling my lower lip, I tracked the way he moved with such confidence, his body all smooth efficiency. The man also had charisma, most falling under his charming spell immediately. Even I’d fallen prey. I often asked him if it was a part of the magic that makes him a warlock, but I never got a straight answer, or rather one that made sense to me. It was a yes or no question as far as I was concerned, but Jensen didn’t give me a yes or no answer.
After toeing off his boots, Jensen slid into bed beside me. “Lily said you think you’re getting sick.”
My sister chose then to burst into my room, hands waving frantically. “Monica’s on her way over. They found Devon dead.”
Shock mingled with misplaced guilt twisted my gut. “What happened?”
“He was found tortured just like Tomas.” Sucking in ragged breaths, she dropped her arms, staring blankly at me.
I glanced at Jensen, attempting to ocularly communicate. The demons were searching for the weapon, regardless of its existence, just like we thought they might.
“No news about Pestilence yet,” he said.
Throwing the covers off of me, I reluctantly got out of bed. “Looks like we’re going to have to make a move with or without the full intel on Pestilence.”
Jensen nodded, his expression clouding over. “You need to rest up before you do anything though. You won’t do anyone any good if you’re sick.”
He was wrong. Even sick I would find a way to protect my fellow hunters. After all, who was to say Lily and I were any safer than the rest? Tomas had been the best of us, and he was dead.
A flash from my nightmare, Tomas bloodied and reaching for me, skidded across my mind. Shaking it off, I jogged down the stairs, ready to get down to business.
16
“It’s like déjà vu all over again.” Normally, if I said something like that, Lily would correct the redundancy, but the current mood of the room was somber. I couldn’t help it, though. Here the four of us were again in our living room, discussing the murder of a twice-marked hunter.
Monica’s features were pinched, her body tense. “Devon was in as bad shape if not worse than Tomas.”
Jensen grimaced, pushing his hand through his hair. “He was just a kid.”
While not technically a child anymore, Devon was young, having just turned eighteen a short few months ago. Being a Nashville native, born and raised, the rare bird that made him, we shared some of the same hunting grounds. Travel for him before legal adulthood was complicated. Especially since his parents had no clue about his twice marked status or that he’d been hunting demons since the age of twelve. Even younger than Lily had been.
Drumming my fingers along my thigh, I considered. “First Tomas, whose home base was Tennessee, and now Devon, whose home base was also Tennessee. Was there a connection besides that?”
Lily nibbled on her thumbnail. “I don’t like that at all. It’s a little too close to home.
My chest constricted, and I turned to Jensen. His eyes darkened as they swept over my features, and I knew what he was thinking. He was worried about my safety the same way I was about Lily’s. “How long until you think the demon will have news about Pestilence?”
“Hard to say.” He inched closer to me, his nostrils flaring. “You should let me put a protective barrier on your condo.”
My face contorted to contain my laugh. “Lot of good that kind of thing did for your condo. Those Ratta demons came bursting right through your windows.”
Jensen glowered. “I had to take the barriers down when I summoned the demon.”
“Mmm-hmm …”
Lily jiggled her foot, her anxiety palpable. “You mean we don’t currently have that?” She glared at me. “Seriously, why do we not have that?”
I flicked her forehead once before she could lean back out of my reach. “Because we shouldn’t rely on warlock magic. It’ll make us complacent and sloppy.” What I didn’t say, which by the knowing glint in my sister’s eyes she already knew, was that I didn’t want to rely on Jensen because he might not be at my disposal at some point. Like during a two-month break-up for instance.
Turning to Jensen, Lily stuck out her lower lip, whining, “What, you can put a tracking spell on Riss without her permission, but you can’t seal us inside our home in a nice, little, protective bubble without full consent?”
“I need resident participation.”
“Nope,” I said.
Lily delivered me a smug smile. “Well, I’m a resident here, too. Bills come in my name and everything. I would be delighted to participate in raising a protective barrier around our condo.”
My nostrils flared. “You will do no such thing.”
“You’re not the boss of me!” Lily countered, her eyes flashing.
“We need a plan,” Monica interjected. “We can’t sit by and let anyone else get mutilated the way Tomas and Devon were.”
Glaring at Lily, I silently made her a promise that our conversation was not over. “Anyone have any ideas?” I lifted my palms up. “Because I got nothing.”
Monica leaned forward, attention locked onto Jensen. “If there was a Hell marked at the scene, do you think you could track him?”
Jensen straightened, his lips curling up ever so slightly. “Since a Hell marked is technically human, yeah, I’m pretty sure I can.”
Seriously? We were not getting him any more involved with our hunting business than he already was. Next thing I know he’ll be wanting to accompany me everywhere I go as backup. Nope, nope, nopity, nope. “Hey, now. I�
�m sure we can track down anyone we need to on our own.”
Monica stood, her dark gaze sparking. “But why make it that much more difficult when we have a warlock’s magic at our disposal?”
I slapped my hand against my forehead. “Et tu, Brute? We don’t need him.”
“You can cut the crap, Val,” Jensen grated, the muscles in his jaw jumping. “We’re back together. A couple. Doesn’t that mean we’re supposed to be a team?”
I scowled. “In theory.”
“Which part is supposed to be a theory? Huh, Val? The part that we’re back together or that we’re a team?”
Grimacing, I tugged on my hair as I rapidly thought up excuses and rejected them. The truth was, just because we’d gotten back together, I wasn’t magically cured of my fears in regard to our relationship. Nothing had changed on that front. However, I had a feeling if I mentioned that little factoid to Jensen, especially now, he wouldn’t take it well.
Jensen slapped his hand against the arm of the couch. “It’s taking you an awfully long time to answer the question. What? Can’t think of a believable lie to save your ass?”
As often as it seemed like he plucked the thoughts right out of my head, it was surprising he was clueless sometimes. Then again, he could be willingly ignoring what he didn’t want to acknowledge. “I don’t want to fight with you right now, Jensen.” There, complete and total truth.
Lily’s eyes flashed with annoyance even as her mouth stretched into a saccharine sweet smile. “Yeah, the rest of us are kind of sick of you fighting, too.”
I stuck out my tongue at her, ever the mature older sister. “I’ll tell you what I’m sick of … you not minding your own business.”
“It is my business.”
“No, not the part—”
Monica slid in to stand in front of Lily, temporarily blocking my view. “Emotions are on high. Hunters, our friends, are dead. I get it. At this point in the game, we need to use every available tool at our disposal whether we like it or not.”
She was right about all of it. Also, Lily and I had been bickering more than normal. It wasn’t just my stamina as a hunter that was off. There was a chance, although a minuscule one, that I was being completely insufferable since Jensen and I had split two months ago. Even though we were technically back together, I hadn’t worked through all the issues with him yet. For one, the tracking spell violation.
Opening and closing my mouth several times, I bit back my words. Now is not the time to bring up the tracking spell again. After sex would be better when Jensen has his guard down. Or possibly during sex? Raising my eyebrows, I gave my boyfriend an evil grin. He frowned.
“How about it, Jensen?” Monica’s voice broke into our stare-off.
He ran his hand down his face, scratching at his scruff. “Um, how about what?”
Shoulders slumping, Monica hefted out a long sigh. “Track the Hell marked? Will you do it?”
“I’d be happy to help.” One side of his mouth tugged up, exposing a dimple, causing me to scowl.
It’s okay. If you find the Hell marked from outside of the bar from the other night before Jensen gets a chance to wow anyone with his magic, then we won’t need him anymore. Even if the Hell marked wasn’t involved with Devon’s torture like he had been with Tomas’ he was a good lead.
“All right then. Do you have the time now?”
Shit. Why, Monica, why? You’re not supposed to ask him to do it now. You’re supposed to say later, or tomorrow, or even next week.
Lily popped a piece of gum in her mouth, chewing loudly. “Maybe Riss should stay here since she’s not feeling good.”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “Not a chance in Hell.”
She grinned, letting me know I played right into her plans. “I’m driving!” She grabbed the car keys off the table as she scurried toward the garage.
“Shotgun!” Monica called, jogging after her.
Great. I’d be stuck in the back with Jensen. Hadn’t I woken up lamenting his absence? Now I was pissed off at him again. All it took was being reminded of the tracking spell issue, another dead body, and being forced to let Jensen use his magic to help us.
“Don’t think I’ve forgotten about the tracking spell. I still want it off. Just because we’re back together doesn’t mean I changed my mind.”
He flung his arm around my shoulder, his chest rumbling with unappreciated laughter. “Oh. That’s what this is about.”
“Duh.” It wasn’t completely but let him believe that if it caused him to let his guard down. He was more pliable when he wasn’t on the defensive.
“I’m still not taking it off.”
I shoved away from him. “We’ll see, asshat.”
“Now, is that any way to talk to me after I worshipped your body with my tongue yesterday?”
Sometimes I wondered if I would even like Jensen if not for our ridiculously pleasurable sex life.
I stalked to the car, flung myself into the backseat, and waited for the show to get on the road.
17
Anger had been my constant companion for the last few days, and even when other emotions seeped to the forefront, anger still simmered within, boiling my blood. I wasn’t sure if it was the sudden death of Tomas alone, or if it was the loss of a friend combined with all the minor things shifting within my life that culminated to form the perfect cyclone of animosity. It didn’t matter.
I did know for certain that when I leveled up to rage, it was because of the scene that lay before me. A concrete box, four walls, one door, no windows, a wanna-be bomb shelter, covered in Devon’s dried blood. The images painted in crimson were chilling, and I couldn’t help but picture what happened there, the pain Devon must have endured in his last hours before his young life was cut viciously short.
The details of the deal Devon made with Lucifer was not something I was privy to, but the fact that he was twice marked told me all I needed to know. He’d called to God for a selfless reason, but instead met with the first fallen angel, his ultimate reward the same damnation Lily and I both had been given—to become one of the twice marked. None of it was fair. If I hadn’t cast my voice Heavenward on that fateful night, I would be dead, but my soul would be safe.
My fists balled at my sides. What’s the point to all of this? None of it makes a damn bit of sense. Is Devon burning in Hell, or resting in peace in Heaven? I shouldn’t have to wonder about such things. Death is tough enough as it is for those left behind. And what about Devon’s parents? The twice marked world that Devon lived in was unknown to them. Why did they also have to suffer for something their son shouldn’t have been punished for?
Standing beside me, Lily’s small frame shook, her teeth chattering. I put my arm around her, pulling her into a side hug. “You okay?”
She grabbed my hand as I went to pull away, squeezing it tightly. “I don’t think I am. It’s horrible—horrible that it happened to Devon.” She swallowed audibly. “But I can’t stop thinking what if it was me or you? Is that bad? I mean, he’s the one who died, and I can’t stop thinking about myself.”
Monica strode to the corner, lifting a blade I hadn’t previously noticed. “This was found … with Devon’s body.”
With recognition came the burn of bile pushing up my esophagus. “It’s one of mine.” I’d lost many of my custom steel blades over the years, but I’d never had one show up at the scene of a murder before.
Monica set it gingerly down at her feet, shuddering. “It means something. It’s a message of some sort.”
She was right. There was no way it was a coincidence that one of my blades was used to torture and kill a twice marked, specifically someone I knew. “What kind of message is it if I don’t understand the meaning?”
Jensen paused his slow perusal of the bloodied room, catching my gaze. “You lost a set of blades the night that demon got the best of you in the alley. The blade left behind could mean two things. One, he plans on targeting you next, or two, he wants you to kn
ow he’s involved.”
Either was possible. Demons sometimes locked onto a perceived victim if they got away, and the demon from the alley might be working his own side agenda. Or he was gloating about getting away that night. Whatever the reason, it was a clue I was being taunted or baited. What the demons expected my reaction to be was anyone’s guess. Even after years of dealing with Hell’s denizens, occasionally their twisted logic was beyond my comprehension. The invitation from the Hell marked also factored into the puzzle. Could it be that they thought to threaten me into helping them find the weapon? Were they telling me more twice marked deaths would come if I didn’t help, therefore their blood was on my hands—or technically blade?
Lily tugged my hand, stirring me from my inner musings. “I don’t care what you say, Jensen’s putting the strongest, most badass protection magic on our condo he can muster.”
My mind conjured an image of Lily’s bloodied and broken body splayed in the center of the room, my blade protruding from her chest. Dread oozed from every pore in my body, my pulse surging with adrenaline. “Yeah, okay.” Even I wouldn’t put my stubbornness ahead of Lily’s safety.
Jensen cleared his throat. “I need everyone out of the room for me to work the tracking so I have as little interference as possible.”
The three of us shuffled to the door, the heavy metal swinging open with a clang as it hit the concrete behind it. Jensen spun me to him before I could manage my exit, his arms wrapping around me tightly, his breath fanning across the top of my head. He didn’t say anything, giving me his comfort in his steadying presence alone.
After pressing a soft kiss to my temple, he released me. “I love you, Val.”
Yanking his head down, I briefly smashed my lips to his before slipping from the room and closing the door behind me. I loved Jensen for some inexplicable reason. Because, yes, when I attempted to pull our relationship apart, I usually ended up questioning everything, aside from the sex that is. What was it about him that pulled me in, causing me to seek him out in a way I never had with any other guy before? Or maybe that was the way it was with love—the heart wanted what the heart wanted, no explanations. After all, it couldn’t be easy for Jensen either. I knew I drove him every bit as bat-shit insane as he did me. There was no way he didn’t question why he put up with me. Any sane person would. Or maybe that was just it. Love makes us all a bit insane.