The Demon Trappers: Foretold

by Jana Oliver

  ‘Does your love for Beck seem the same as you had for the angel?’

  Riley shook her head before Ayden finished the question. ‘This feels . . . real, you know? We’ve been through so much and yet when I’m with him I’m complete. It’s as if he holds all the pieces of me I’ve lost along the way. Ori was cool, but what we had was too surreal. Too perfect.’

  ‘Sounds like you’ve got your head on straight this time. So what’s the problem?’

  ‘I don’t want to screw this up.’

  ‘Love without risk?’ Ayden said. ‘It doesn’t exist. There are no sure outcomes. You do your best and hope not to get hurt too badly, and if you survive unscathed you’re doing really well.’

  ‘Been there, done that?’ Riley asked, studying her friend anew.

  ‘You could say that.’

  It was time to come clean. ‘I’ve got another problem.’ Riley let her gaze wander to the tent’s red silk as she explained exactly what was going on with her and Ori. How the angel was alive, how her new boyfriend wasn’t aware of her latest occupation: demon slayer’s apprentice.

  Ayden was frowning now. ‘You have to tell Beck everything. You can’t hide this from him. He has to know.’

  ‘But what if he can’t deal? He’s jealous of Ori and if he finds out I’m spending almost every night killing demons with the angel—’

  ‘He should know that now, before you commit more than your heart to this union.’

  It was sound advice, though it wasn’t what Riley wanted to hear.

  She’s right. Riley had expected Beck to lay out all his secrets; she had to do the same or their relationship would never survive.

  ‘Tell the masters as well, especially Stewart,’ Ayden advised. ‘You can’t handle this on your own.’

  ‘I’ve done pretty good so far,’ Riley replied, irritated.

  ‘You have, but now it’s time for back-up. Perhaps Stewart will know why the angel is doing this to you. He always sees the bigger picture.’

  Riley reluctantly nodded. ‘I’ll tell Beck tonight. Then . . .’ If he truly loved her, he’d be there for her. If he couldn’t deal . . .

  Hell might as well claim me now.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  That afternoon’s class was uneventful, an anti-climax to the whole Alan/Ori drama. Her ex was AWOL and the word was that he’d called in sick. Riley suspected his class transfer was already in the works.

  She actually felt bad for him. He’d never said his dad beat him, he just demanded the world bend to his will, probably because it wasn’t that way at home. Maybe Ori’s tour of Hell would do her ex some good. If not, at least they’d tried.

  I can’t save everyone. So far she hadn’t even figured out to save herself.

  When Riley left class she found a voicemail from Harper waiting for her on her cellphone. The news wasn’t good: Both his new apprentices were history. Lambert was gone because he’d smart-mouthed Harper one too many times and Fleming had been tossed out because he’d been the ‘mole’ planted by the television producer. The other message was Beck, inviting Riley to his place for the night. Though that invitation should have been greeted with considerable enthusiasm and seriously steamy daydreams, Riley went directly into a bad case of nerves.

  I have to tell him, but what if he loses it?

  Unfortunately, there was only one way to find out.

  Once Riley arrived at Beck’s house, she found her courage flagging even though she’d given herself a pep talk on the way over. After trading a kiss, they settled at the kitchen table. Riley tried to do her homework while Beck sat across from her working on his reading and writing exercises. He wore a clean shirt and she caught the faint scent of aftershave, evidence he’d been looking forward to an evening she was about to ruin.

  Just tell him. She opened her mouth than closed it, fearful of losing everything that mattered in her life.

  He caught her looking at him. ‘Yer too quiet,’ he said. ‘What’s goin’ on?’

  ‘Just doing my homework,’ she replied, hoping he’d accept that lie.

  ‘No, it’s not that.’ Brows furrowed, he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. ‘Tell what’s botherin’ you. That’s part of this whole goin’ together thing.’

  ‘Guys don’t talk stuff out,’ she replied, waving him off.

  ‘It’s the angel, isn’t it?’

  Riley slammed down her pen, upset that he could read her so easily.

  ‘Why does everything have to revolve around Ori?’

  ‘Because it does as long as he’s yer demi-lord,’ he replied, his jaw tensing.

  ‘I can’t undo that, Beck,’ she said. ‘It’s not a “Gee, I made a mistake, can I have my soul back now?” situation.’

  ‘I know that,’ he said, testily. ‘But I refuse to let that Fallen come between us.’

  ‘I’m not cheating on you.’

  ‘I never said that,’ he said, his voice equally sharp. ‘Somethin’s got you spooked. I trusted you with my problems – you have to trust me. It’s not just one way.’

  Riley rubbed her face in profound weariness.

  ‘Please let me help you,’ he said.

  His tone was gentler now, not as confrontational. He really cared.

  ‘I killed a Four last night. It was the one who almost took your soul.’

  ‘What?’ Beck blurted. ‘You shouldn’t have been anywhere near that thing. If it got into yer mind . . .’

  ‘And do what? My soul’s gone, Beck. The worst it could do was kill me.’

  ‘Why were you after the thing?’

  ‘I was hunting with Ori.’

  Beck took a long and deliberate inhalation, no doubt to short-circuit his anger. It wasn’t working as his fists were clenched now.

  ‘So what’s really goin’ on?’

  ‘He’s teaching me how to slay demons. I don’t have a choice in the matter.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘He said it’s because he owns my soul. He says I have to learn how to kill them to stay alive.’

  ‘Oh, sweet Jesus,’ Beck muttered.

  Now that the truth was out, Riley wanted to tell him everything.

  ‘He calls me out at night. One minute I’m sleeping and then I wake up somewhere else. My hand . . .’ She stared down at the offending palm. ‘That fiery sword he used at the cemetery? I have one like it, except it’s more . . . mesized. He said it’s an extension of his angelic power.’

  Beck’s mouth dropped open in shock.

  ‘Usually he’s right there bitching at me about how I’m not doing anything right, but last night he didn’t show up until after I’d killed the first Mezmer. He took out the weaker one.’

  ‘Yer sure yer not dreamin’ all this?’ he asked, sceptical.

  ‘It’s real, Beck.’ Too real.

  ‘Did he do this kind of crap with Paul?’

  ‘No, it’s just me.’

  ‘Damn that bastard!’ Beck stormed, slamming a fist down on the table, nearly knocking over his cup of coffee.

  Riley knew he’d never hurt her, but she still put some space between them, retreating to the picture window. The street was dark now, only marked by the occasional streetlight. Someone was rolling a trash can to the kerb.

  Behind her she heard Beck swear under his breath. ‘Why didn’t you tell me this was happenin’?’ he demanded.

  ‘I . . .’ She choked back a sob. ‘I was . . . scared I’d lose you just when . . . we . . .’

  There was a long silence, then a chair slid back and footsteps came towards her.

  Was he going to open the front door and tell her to leave? Tell her never to come back like he had the last time, but this time it would be for keeps?

  She tensed as Beck’s strong arms curved round her waist possessively and drew her back against him. His comforting warmth flowed into her, strengthening her.

  ‘Ah, girl, I’m not goin’ anywhere without you. No way some damned angel’s gonna break us up. No one in Heaven or Hell h
as that kind of power.’

  Beck was drawing her closer, not pushing her away. She’d been a fool to think otherwise.

  ‘No matter what happens, I love you,’ he whispered.

  He’d never used the ‘l’ word before.

  She wasn’t in Hell yet. She still had time to live.

  Riley turned in his arms and gazed into his rich brown eyes. All she wanted was for him to kiss her, touch her, make love to her.

  ‘I don’t want to go home tonight,’ she said, her voice quavering. ‘I want to stay here . . . with you.’

  Beck tipped her chin up. ‘You mean . . . you want us to . . . ’

  ‘Yes. I’m so scared, Den. The only place I feel safe is with you.’

  Their foreheads touched. ‘Same with me,’ he murmured. ‘But if we . . . It would change everythin’ between us. There would be no goin’ back.’

  She leaned away until she could see his eyes again. ‘I don’t ever want to go back to the way it was. I love you.’ I trust you.

  He pushed a lock of hair behind her ear, his gaze remarkably tender. ‘I want nothin’ more than to scoop you up in my arms, and carry you to my bed.’

  ‘And then . . .’ she whispered, her heart beating faster now. What would it be like to feel his skin against hers?

  ‘Then I’d show you what it means to be loved by a Southern boy.’ His face filled with a sultry grin. ‘It wouldn’t be quick. No, it’d probably take all night.’

  For a second, Riley forgot how to breathe.

  ‘So if yer sayin’ that’s what you want—’ he began.

  She cut off his final words with a kiss, one nearly as possessive and needy as the one she’d given him at the bus station. He wrapped his arms round her and pulled her tight against him. Riley could feel his pulse quicken. When they broke apart, his eyes shone with unbridled desire.

  Beck swept her up in his arms. When she protested she could walk to the bedroom, he refused to put her down.

  ‘Why do you think I lift weights?’ he laughed, carrying her down the hall.

  He laid her on the bed, then stood to strip off his shirt. His muscles moved in unison as the garment hit the floor, revealing a patchwork of healing bug bites. Then he remembered his boots and parked himself on the edge of the bed to unlace them, grumbling under his breath at the delay.

  ‘I thought you had a lot of practice at this,’ Riley jested, trying to cope with her sudden case of nerves.

  ‘I do. Just not with you.’ The boots landed on the floor with pronounced thumps as she toed off her tennis shoes.

  Beck rolled over on the bed, caging her in his arms. The first kiss was hesitant. The second grew more bold and uninhibited. When she didn’t respond as he’d expected, he pulled back. ‘What’s wrong?’

  Lost in the heady rush of emotions, Riley had forgotten something important.

  ‘Ah, we can’t do this. I don’t have any . . . ah, protection.’

  ‘Already taken care of,’ he replied. ‘There’s box of rubbers in the nightstand.’

  She frowned up at him. ‘I thought you didn’t bring girls here.’

  ‘I never have, until tonight.’ He gave her his best bad boy smile. ‘I always knew you’d come after me eventually.’

  ‘You arrogant little—’ His kiss cut her off.

  Beck wasn’t feeling arrogant. He was way nervous. He’d been with a lot of women, but none of them was Riley. It wasn’t that she didn’t know about the loving, what happened between a guy and a gal, but this was her first time with him and he wanted nothing less than to erase her memory of that night with the angel. He wanted Riley to be his, alone.

  As she ran her hand though his hair, he leaned close, inhaling the scent of her light perfume. This was his woman, the one who possessed a heart of steel. She loved him unconditionally.

  He began with light kisses on her forehead and cheeks, savouring the ability to touch her so freely. He’d wanted to for so long, often sneaking glances at her when she wasn’t watching, thinking of what it would be like. This would be more than a meeting of the flesh; they were forging together their very souls.

  When the last pieces of clothing were removed, Riley’s nerves flared to life. Beck had been with so many girls. What would he think of her? Would he find her too fat or too thin or . . .

  As if he knew her worries, Beck placed a delicate kiss in the centre of her forehead. ‘You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen,’ he said.

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Without a doubt,’ he replied.

  At his urging, she shyly began to explore his body, running her hands down his back, encountering the scars his life had left behind. Her guy wasn’t perfect, not like the angel, but each wound told the story of his journey to her and that made her love him even more.

  In return, he seemed to know exactly where to touch her, as if they’d been lovers before. Kiss by kiss, caress by caress, he stoked the fire within her. She had never felt so true to herself as in this moment. This was the man she’d been searching for all her life, and she’d found him.

  As Beck leaned over to the nightstand, Riley closed her eyes. No matter what befell them after this night, they’d always be together, their hearts as entwined as their bodies soon would be.

  When he turned back towards her, he kissed her deeply. ‘Don’t ever doubt that I love you,’ he said, cupping her chin in his strong hands. ‘That will never change.’

  Beck’s taut body covered hers, alive and vital, charged with desire.

  And then they became one.

  Riley lay with her head against Beck’s bare chest, listening to his heart. Their joining had been full of joyous discovery, heady and passionate, the way it was supposed to be between lovers.

  A few of his chest hairs tickled her nose, so she smoothed them down with a hand. That earned her a pleased hum from Beck.

  ‘You’ll stay all night, right?’ he asked.

  Riley nodded, snuggling closer to him. Nothing in this world was going to pull her away, except maybe the angel. That possibility she didn’t want to consider.

  If she wasn’t moving from Beck’s bed, she’d better call Stewart. When she said as much, Beck pulled on a pair of sweatpants and headed down the hall. A short time later he returned with her phone. As she dialled, he retreated to the bathroom.

  Coward. Not that the Scotsman would be upset by this change in their relationship, but still . . .

  ‘Master Stewart. Atlanta Guild,’ the master’s tired voice announced.

  There was no point in shading the truth as he’d see right through any white lie. ‘Hi, ah, it’s Riley. I don’t want you to worry about me, but I’m staying at Beck’s tonight.’

  ‘Lots of homework, huh?’ he said mischievously.

  ‘Ah, yeah.’

  He chuckled into the phone. ‘I’ll not be worried if yer with him. Just be adult about it and take the proper precautions. Ya don’t need a wee bairn this soon.’

  Riley’s cheeks burned in embarrassment. ‘Got it.’

  ‘Good night ta ya, then.’

  As she set the phone on the nightstand, Beck returned, settling on the edge of the bed. When Riley relayed the public service message, trying hard to imitate the Scotsman’s broad accent, he laughed at her pitiful attempt.

  ‘I didn’t think Stewart would be upset. He knew we were in love a lot sooner that we did.’

  In Beck’s hand was a flat white box of about two inches square. When she gave him a quizzical look, he opened it, removed something, and then set the box aside. Resting in his palm was a silver band, interlaced with ivy leaves.

  Riley’s breath caught.

  Beck shifted the ring to between his thumb and index finger, admiring it.

  ‘It’s too soon to ask you . . . to . . . ah . . .’ He groaned and shook his head. ‘I’m not doin’ this right.’ The hand holding the ring was trembling now. ‘This is my grandmamma’s wedding ring. She and my granddaddy were married for over forty-five years.’

 
‘That’s a long time, Den.’

  ‘Yeah, and they never stopped lovin’ each other. I miss them so much.’ Beck took a slow, deep breath. ‘A few days before my gran passed over, she gave this ring to me. She said that the ivy means faithfulness, and that when I found the right woman I should give it to her. I want you to know that this isn’t a one-night thing for me. I’m in this for the long haul.’

  ‘Same here,’ she murmured.

  He reached for Riley’s right hand and then hesitated as if there was one last hurdle to overcome. He took a very deep breath and let it out slowly. ‘Will you wear my ring so all the world knows yer mine?’

  Beck wasn’t asking for her hand in marriage, but it was so close he might as well be. Riley was deeply touched; she struggled to find the right words.

  ‘Yes,’ she began. ‘I’d be proud to.’

  With a pleased smile, Beck slid the circlet on to her right ring finger. It fitted pretty well. The band wasn’t shiny and new, but that didn’t trouble her. This symbol of love had endured for over four decades. That Beck would want her to have it revealed the depth of his commitment.

  ‘Looks good on you,’ he said, smiling wider now. ‘I know it’s not fancy, but maybe someday you’ll do me the honour of . . . well, movin’ it to the other hand.’

  Yet again, he’d captured her heart.

  ‘That could happen,’ she said, touching his face fondly.

  He grasped her hand. ‘I’ve never given this ring to any other girl before.’

  Wow. ‘You’ve blown me away, Den.’

  ‘That was the whole idea.’ He gently laid her back on the bed, threading his fingers in hers. ‘I don’t know how long we have together, but I want to make every day count.’

  Tears bloomed. ‘You’re an awesome man, you know?’

  ‘Only when I’m with you.’

  To Beck’s profound relief, the angel had not summoned Riley during their first evening together. He knew that respite wouldn’t last and he wasn’t sure how to handle the problem. Actually, he did. He wanted to tear the angel’s wings off and bury his steel pipe deep in Ori’s chest. Despite that desire, he had to know what was really going on.