by Kat Colmer
Jonas’s fingers brushed mine. “We’ll sort this, Cora. We’ll find a way to rip my page from that blasted book and free you from this nightmare.”
His words did little to reassure me that we’d solve this mess, both the demon and the “potential for love” kind, but the resolution in his eyes—the unwavering promise in the gray-blue—had me reconsidering. Over the past six years, we’d tackled plenty of problems together. Yes, this was bigger than a broken car window or an unwanted move halfway across the world, but thanks to the journals, we had crucial knowledge. We were also better equipped to fight than the average person. Couple that with Jonas’s Protection Charm, and we might just be able to pull this off.
I took a calming breath and nodded.
Together, it was possible. Light-years from easy but possible.
Together.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Jonas
Cora and I spent the rest of Friday in the professor’s study reading through Richard’s notebooks to the point where my head spun with all the information, and my nerves were shot for fear Groth Maar would burst through the window and make a grab for Cora. I’d tried to convince her it’d be safer to do this at my place, at another time. She wouldn’t listen.
So it was well after six when we finally made it home.
Beth opened the door. “Did you get my text about dinner?”
I held up the bag of Thai takeaway Cora had made us stop for. I’d argued stopping anywhere was too dangerous, because damn if I wasn’t suddenly seeing people with violet eyes everywhere, but Cora would have none of it. Her exact words: “I refuse to be dictated to by demon scum.”
“Leave the door unlocked,” she said as Beth went to close it behind us. “Leo’s on his way.”
Leave the door unlocked? I fought my rising groan. Any other person would be dead bolting that sucker and wedging a chair under the handle if they had demon hellhounds after them. But not Cora. Hell no! That last stubborn kernel of disbelief would get her damn well killed.
My worry must have shown on my face, because she turned to me and said, “This is the ‘safe house,’ remember? They can’t touch me here.”
No, they couldn’t. Guess that was something to be thankful for. I glanced up the staircase as we passed it on our way to the living room. “Is Aunt Helena home?”
“No,” Beth said. “She dropped me home, then had to go back. There’s some drama with one of the cases she’s working on.”
“Good.” I deposited the Thai on the ottoman. “Because we have what you could call a demon problem.” I shot Cora a quick look. The lines around her mouth had softened a little. Not enough to make me think she’d forgiven me completely, but I was confident she wasn’t going to thump me one. At least for now.
“Yep. Looks like I’ve made it onto the Groth Maar’s hit list,” she said.
Beth’s eyes widened. “I’m getting the feeling you don’t mean the Top Forty.”
“No, we’re talking ‘dancing with devil in the pale moonlight’ kind of hit list.” Cora pressed her lips into a thin line as Beth’s mouth dropped open.
“But why?”
Because she’s rejected me. It still stung. No less than it had when the prof first announced it. I sucked in a breath, busied myself pulling plastic takeaway containers out of the bag, and waited for Cora to explain.
She didn’t. Instead, she mumbled something about getting plates and escaped into the kitchen. Brat.
Beth watched her slip out the door. “Someone please tell me what’s going on!”
“It’s…complicated,” I said, avoiding direct eye contact with her. “Wait till Leo gets here, then I’ll explain everything. To both of you.” Because I didn’t want to go over the awkward subject twice if I could help it.
Beth wrinkled her nose, my request not going down well. Like me, she wasn’t gifted with the patience gene. To her credit, she left it alone and asked a different question. “So you finally got hold of Leo?”
“Yeah. He replied this morning. It’s Friday. He always shows on a Friday.” Leo hadn’t missed a single Friday the entire year I’d known him. Whether it was clubbing, a party, or just takeaway in front of a new release, he always showed on a Friday.
Beth bent to get cans of soft drinks out of the plastic bag. “What geeky rock has he been hiding under the last couple of days?”
“Don’t know. He didn’t say. Just texted to say he was coming.”
“Any money he’s been eyeball-deep in some nerdy programming task or geeking off in an all night hack-a-thon. So important he couldn’t type a quick text.”
I raised an eyebrow. “What do you care?”
She shrugged. “I don’t.”
But it was obvious she did. Could be there was something to Cora’s theory about Beth having a thing for Leo? If I didn’t have so many problems of my own right now, I’d call her on it. As it was, it’d have to wait.
When Cora came back carrying plates and cutlery, I parked myself on the couch and pulled the lid off the Massaman beef. I was starving. The aromatic curry reminded me I’d only had a peanut butter sandwich all day.
I reached for a plate, but Beth slapped my hand. “Aren’t we waiting for Leo?”
“Make up your mind. Just a second ago you were having a dig at him and his hack-a-thons. Now you’re worried he’ll miss out on dinner?”
“Well, it’s rude.” Her face went all prissy and puckered, validating Cora’s damn theory more by the second.
I sighed and reached for the plastic lid to replace it, when movement at the door made us all look up. Beth’s gasp of shock was the loudest.
“Oh my God, Leo! What happened?” She was at his side and reaching for his nearly unrecognizable face a second later. The skin around his left eye and cheekbone was a palette of purple and green, his bottom lip cracked and swollen.
“Couple of guys worked me over after the club the other night.” He winced when she touched him.
“Sorry. Does it hurt?” Beth’s fingers hovered near his bruised cheek.
“It does if you poke at it.”
Beth scowled at him. “I told you those stupid T-shirts would get you beaten up one day.” Her tone was sharp, but the gentleness in her next touch made a mockery of her harsh words.
Guilt gnawed at me. If I hadn’t left him there alone with those two German backpackers… “Man, Leo, I’m sorry. I should have stuck around.”
“Don’t sweat it.” He crossed the room and did a shit job of hiding another wince as he lowered himself into an armchair. How badly had the bastards beaten him up?
Beth sat down cross-legged on the rug near Leo’s armchair. “Did you report it?”
“Yeah, but I won’t hold my breath to hear from the cops.”
Eyes fixed on Leo’s battered face, Cora sat beside me on the couch. “That’s two attacks in two days.” I could almost hear the cogs turning in her head. “Do you think they’re related?” she asked me.
Leo reached for a can off the ottoman. “Two attacks?”
“Someone tried to grab me in the martial arts school parking lot.” Cora glanced my way, took a breath. “We’re pretty certain it was a Groth Maar demon.”
Leo scratched his elbow with the rim of his can, then cracked his drink open, releasing a hiss. “What makes you think the guy was Groth Maar?”
“Creepy violet eyes. And strong,” Cora told him. “Too strong. Did you get a good look at the two guys who attacked you?”
Leo shifted in the armchair, winced again. “No. And I didn’t go gazing into their eyes, either.”
I turned to Cora. “You think the guys who did Leo over might have been Groth Maar?” It didn’t make sense. What reason did the Groth Maar have to harm Leo? He wasn’t a threat to them.
Cora took in my skeptical expression. “Okay, so maybe not. It’s only me that your s
tupid kiss has put in mortal danger.”
I waited for all the ones and zeroes in Leo’s head to drop into place as the meaning of Cora’s words sank in and it dawned on him that she was my third choice.
Nothing.
Not even a tweak of an eyebrow. Either he’d been beaten a little too hard about the head, or my attraction to Cora was more obvious than I’d thought.
When he did speak, he asked a question I wasn’t expecting. “It happened Wednesday night, right? During that storm.”
“What?”
“The kiss.”
So my words had registered. I shot a quick glance at Cora and cleared my throat. “Yeah. Why?”
Leo absentmindedly touched his thumb to his split lip and shrugged. “No reason. Just wondering.”
Between mouthfuls of rice and Massaman beef, Cora and I filled Leo in on events since Wednesday night and explained to both him and Beth what we’d learned during that morning’s visit to the prof’s place. They took it well, considering.
Beth put her fork down and frowned. “So the weird coil means Cora is a Loose Thread and now the Groth Maar, and especially this Elymas guy, want her dead. I get that. What I don’t get is why?” She looked at both of us expectantly. “Why is the third coil still there?”
I glanced at Cora. She was doing a good job of avoiding eye contact. When she made no move to answer Beth’s question I knew it was up to me. Fan-fricking-tastic.
Washing the remains of curry down with a gulp of drink, I braced myself. “The third coil hasn’t faded because…apparently…according to the prof, Cora and I have the potential for…” I cleared my throat. “Love.” There, I’d said it. Without choking on the word and somehow managing to pretend I was unaffected by Cora’s presence next to me on the couch.
“You and Cora?” Beth pulled a face and eyed me suspiciously.
In the armchair, Leo laughed, then winced as the action tugged at his cracked lip. “Of course,” he said and pressed the cool metal of the can against his lip. He wasn’t making much sense tonight.
“Hold on a second, if the two of you have…potential”—Beth grimaced—“then why is Elymas even allowed to think about wiping Cora out? I thought a Guardian’s mate was covered by his Protection Charm?”
I cocked my head at Cora. “All yours.” I wasn’t going anywhere near that question. As irrational as it was, her previous answer to it still stung.
Reluctantly, Cora looked up to meet all three of our expectant gazes. “I’m not covered by Jonas’s Protection Charm, because I have no intention of becoming his mate.” She skewered a chunk of curry beef with her fork. “My decision puts me at the top of the Groth Maar’s most wanted list, because as long as I’m alive there’s a chance Jonas and I might get it together and continue the Guardian line.”
“Uh-huh, because that’s what every eighteen-year-old couple is bursting to do: pop babies,” Beth said. “What a crock of shit.”
“These are Canaanite demons, Beth,” Cora explained. “Back then people married off their daughters at age twelve, and it was all about popping babies. If there’s potential for love, to them that’s as good as conception.”
A calculating glint flitted across Beth’s eyes. “And the two of you definitely have potential for love?”
Cora’s shoulders stiffened with her next breath. “According to the professor, yes.”
Beth pursed her lips. Her narrowed eyes settled on me, making me squirm on the couch.
“It doesn’t matter what the professor says about our so-called potential.” Cora’s gaze flickered my way, then landed back on Beth and Leo. “We need to work out how to get at the Book of Threads and break this insane curse, because no one and nothing is going to dictate who I will or won’t become involved with. Besides, I can’t imagine Jonas is too thrilled about ending up with me as his successful third choice.”
Choice. The damned word kept hounding me. Three sets of eyes swung my way, waiting for my response. I opened my mouth and…nothing. The “course not” remained stuck at the back of my throat. I wiped clammy palms down my pants, unable to force the words out.
Cora mistook my silence for confirmation. “I thought as much. So the only way out of this mess is to find the Book of Threads and get Jonas to rip his page out.”
Leo shook his head. “You just told us no one has managed to do it in three thousand years. So how are we meant to do it?”
Discarding her plate on the ottoman, Cora drew her legs up underneath her on the couch. “As far as I know, no one had managed to get away from a Groth Maar demon, either. Until yesterday.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Just because it’s never been done before doesn’t mean it can’t be done.”
Determination, that was what emanated from her. Potent, immovable determination.
“And how exactly do we do it?” If I knew her, she had already planned and executed the entire mission in that brilliant and stubborn head of hers.
Cora leaned forward, resting her forearms on her knees, eyes intent on us. “We bait the bastards.”
“What?” Beth asked.
“We bait them so we can follow them to their hellhole and hopefully the Book of Threads,” Cora said.
I didn’t like where this was going. “And we bait them how?”
“We give them what they want.” Hazel eyes met mine. “Me.”
That feeling? The one people describe as your stomach dropping out? Right there, my insides hit the leather couch at Cora’s words.
I leaped up. “No way in hell! Are you out of your mind?”
“Jonas is right, Cora. That’s insane.”
I could have hugged Beth for agreeing with me. I turned to Leo for another vote of support, but one look at his contemplative expression and… “Don’t tell me you’re entertaining this crazy-ass idea?”
He shrugged. “At least hear her out. She did beat off that demon last night.”
Yeah, only just. I shoved an unsteady hand into my hair and stopped short of tugging. “Fine. So talk.” But I knew I wouldn’t like it.
Cora didn’t waste any time. “They’ll want to keep their existence hidden, so they’re unlikely to strike in a public place. That means someplace quiet, deserted.”
“There’s no way—”
“Just listen!” she cut me off, eyes blazing. “When they come, I’ll call for backup.” She angled those hazel eyes up at me. “That’s you, Jonas. They won’t be expecting you or your black belt. And you have the Protection Charm. Two points we have in our favor.”
That was meant to make me feel better? At this point I had no proof the Protection Charm even worked, and my black belt hadn’t seen a workout in almost a year. Unable to stand still any longer, I stalked up and down the length of the couch. “And then what?”
“We beat them into retreat, and either Leo or Beth follow them to wherever it is they are hiding. Simple but effective.”
I stopped mid stride. “No, I… No.” Not worth it. Way too dangerous.
“It could work,” Leo said, as calm as the fricking ocean on a dead-still day. I was ready to throttle him. This was Cora and my sister we were talking about.
“No.” How many times did I have to say it? They all ignored me.
“You really think it could work?” Beth asked Leo.
“Is anyone listening to me? I said no!”
Beth kicked my leg. “Get your head out of your ass for a minute and think about it. It’s dangerous, yes, but Cora makes a good point; they won’t be expecting two Karate Kids, so this might just work. Your other option is for Cora to move in permanently, because the only safe place for her is her Guardian’s home. I can’t wait to hear you explain that to Aunt Helena.” She cocked an arrogant eyebrow at me, knowing I was cornered.
“Jonas.” Cora’s voice brought my gaze back to hers. “You’ll be there with me. We’ll be all
right.”
The trust in her eyes was my undoing. There wasn’t much I wouldn’t do for her.
“Well, I’m in,” Leo said.
“So am I,” Beth echoed.
They all waited for my response. Like I had a fricking choice. “Fine. But we use every spare moment to train.” Because I needed it. Cora was relying on me, and this was one time I couldn’t afford to stuff up.
Heat pressed down from the midmorning sky, beads of sweat gathering on my forehead. The grass beneath my bare feet was a dry, coarse woolen blanket. Eyes trained on Cora, I gulped lungfuls of air and tried to ignore the throb in my side where she’d just landed a sharp blow with her elbow.
“You’re holding out,” she said. Breaths labored, we circled each other. “You’ve been holding out the last three days.”
It was Tuesday, fourth day of training, our backyard the dojang, the scorching sun our unforgiving adjudicator. Saturday had been a refresher, no real hand-to-hand combat but enough to make Beth realize martial arts wasn’t like riding a bike—you couldn’t just hop on after three years without practice and ride off into the sunset. Sunday we taught Leo some basic self-defense techniques. He’d surprised us by picking up the moves like he’d learned them in a previous life, only tripping twice over his own feet. Monday my muscle memory kicked in. And today Cora was putting it to the test.
However, this wasn’t like the sparring sessions I remembered. She came at me hard, an angry edge to each kick and strike. She’d climbed on that edge Friday morning and had kept us both there ever since.
Her anger was understandable, justifiable even. I was to blame for this situation, which was why guilt stopped me from going at her with everything I had. And why I’d spent most of this morning with my ass on the grass.
Eyes sharp, movements controlled, she was in her element. The girl may not feel quite at home in a bikini, but put her in a dobok, and she commanded everything in a hundred-meter radius. I almost didn’t mind getting my backside kicked by her.