The sweet dates they had, his heroism at saving her time and again, were all part of his guilt-driven duty. She knew that now. And every time it felt as though they fit perfectly together . . . it had all been in her head. It wasn’t real. She just wove a fantasy about him.
His heart was spoken for. And it would never belong to her.
Chapter 10
Daria trudged behind Jason, almost resentful that he insisted on holding her hand. Didn’t he understand that she’d been rejected? She didn’t want to hold his hand. She didn’t want to be near him at all. If it weren’t for the fact that she didn’t know how to get out of this hellhole, she would have already left by herself.
Suddenly, Jason stumbled. His hand slipped from hers and he gasped in pain. Daria froze, then waved her hands like mad, trying to find him.
“Jason!” Panic streaked her voice. God. Was he hurt? She’d been so wrapped up in her feelings she hadn’t even considered he might have been injured from the battle with Damien. She never used to be this self-absorbed. Daria could have kicked herself. What did it matter if he liked her? He had saved her life countless times.
She stooped down, circling her hands through the blackness, searching for him. “What is it? Are you okay?” she cried. She found his hand first and clutched it. Never had she loved his cold fingers more. “Are you hurt?”
Faint, shallow breaths answered her. She thanked her lucky stars and trailed her hands up. Then stilled. Something wet and sticky coated her fingertips.
“Don’t,” he whispered.
Ignoring his warning, she brought her fingers to her nose, picking up a strong metallic scent. Her other hand tightened on his arm and though blind, her eyes scanned the darkness for him.
“Is that . . .?” Her stomach lurched and her voice quavered. She couldn’t finish her sentence, afraid saying the word validated what she knew to be true. Her breath lodged in her throat, choking her with guilt. He was in pain because of her. Wounded because of her. And she had been concerned with nothing more than her stupid feelings.
“I’m fine,” he grunted, moving to stand.
She stood with him, tipping slightly without something to orient her body. Her hand remained on his arm, afraid if she let go, the darkness would swallow him completely.
“Does it hurt?” she asked when they began walking again. She supported his arm. Or maybe he still led her. She wasn’t sure which anymore.
He halted but didn’t answer her immediately. Then he murmured, “I’ll survive.”
She frowned at his flippant tone. Did he plan to protect her from his pains, too?
“We need to get you to a hospital. Because of me—”
“Daria,” he cut off. “Never blame yourself. I’m here because I want to be. I know the consequences.”
She stroked his arm, trying to form the right words. He might know the consequences, but she didn’t. Jason had always seemed invincible to her. Yet he wasn’t. After the banshees attacked, she told herself she would not let anyone else die because of her. But she had taken Jason’s protection for granted. Just because he wasn’t human, it didn’t mean he couldn’t die. He clearly bled.
After they got out of here, she needed to figure out what to do and not rely only on Jason’s help. Her chest tightened. If he died because of her, she would never be able to live with herself.
“This is far enough,” he said, stopping.
Soft, rustling noises floated to her ears and a dull light began to glow beside her. She squinted against the sudden onslaught of brightness. As her eyes adjusted, she made out the form of Jason’s hand, coated in blood, clutching the light.
“What is that?”
“It’s going to get us home.” As the light grew brighter and larger, he said, “Hold on to me.”
Immediately, she wrapped her arms around him. The blood drained from her head and her center of gravity weakened, giving her a floating sensation. Suddenly, the light blinded her and she buried her face in Jason’s chest.
Then came the never-ending fall. Again.
Daria opened her eyes to the elegant foyer of a large estate. Decorative molding in geometric patterns on the ceiling, combined with the dark mahogany hardwood flooring, gave the entire foyer the presence of greatness. She glimpsed a sunroom to her right and a curving stairway that seemed to climb to the heavens with an elliptical skylight on the ceiling.
“It’s impressive the first time you see it, isn’t it?” Jason mused.
He brushed aside a lock of her hair. His face had turned ashen gray, his weird black trench had disappeared, and his hair had once again returned to a short cut. She grabbed his hand and saw blood dripping from the black band on his wrist. She could have sworn the bands were wider when he had saved her from Damien.
“It will heal,” he told her before she even opened her mouth. Then he threw her a wry smile. “It probably already has.”
Footsteps approached from behind and a familiar voice called, “Welcome back.”
“Miller!” She jumped in surprise at the last person she expected to see. Glancing at the opulent surroundings, glimpsing a grand piano in the corner, she suddenly realized where she was. “Your place?” Daria didn’t give him a chance to answer. “Jason’s hurt. We need to get him to a doctor.”
Miller nodded and strode toward them.
“It’s nothing. Thanks for bringing me back.” Jason held out his hand where shattered chunks of crystal lay in his palm. “Sorry about the Baccarat.”
“I’ll put it on your bill.” Unperturbed, Miller eyed Jason’s wrist. “Along with the door.”
A cold sweat washed over her with the revelation that Miller was in on everything. “What—Miller—he—”
“Miller’s a witch,” Jason explained. “The oldest son of the House of Witches.”
Daria gasped. “Like with the broom and pointy hat?”
“No, like with the sleigh and reindeer. Of course with the broom and pointy hat!” Miller bellowed.
Daria winced, looking at her coworker with new eyes. All these years, she had worked with a witch and apparently not any old witch, but an oldest son and likely heir to great powers.
“Bathroom’s around the corner.” Miller jerked his head to the right.
As soon as Jason stepped away, Miller grabbed Daria’s arm. His eyes missed nothing as they raked over her face. She squirmed under his scrutiny.
“You’ve been crying. Did Damien do something? What happened?”
She stared in the direction Jason had gone and merely said, “Alice happened.” She swallowed and met Miller’s gaze. “I’m an idiot, aren’t I?”
The ache in her heart was a throbbing reminder. It had to go away eventually, though. They barely knew each other. There was no reason to get hung up over the guy. Sure, he had saved her a few times and was great company, but it wasn’t meant to be. His undying love for Alice had already lasted beyond five hundred years.
Daria didn’t begrudge him his dead love. She envied them.
“It’s not what you think.” Miller spoke low. “You shouldn’t compare yourself with her. You two are nothing alike.”
Brick by brick, she fortified her heart. There were benefits to being alone. She couldn’t have kisses or cuddling anymore, but she wouldn’t feel as if someone was trying to carve her heart to pieces, either. They could be friends. A lot of people did that. Not too hard, right? She’d have to look at that gorgeous face and body, listen to how he wanted to take care of her, and occasionally feel his arms around her . . .
Her breath choked. God. That would kill her if the monsters didn’t get to her first.
She collected her emotions and shoved them into a corner of her heart in an attempt to get her feelings under control. Solitude suited her. Had suited her since she was sixteen. Kind of like an ac
cessory in my closet.
She couldn’t let other people see how close she was to breaking, how the appearance of Jason’s affection and its sudden absence could push her over the edge. Get it under control, Daria. She sucked in a deep breath, filling her lungs and slowly letting the air out through her mouth.
Her breathing evened and she felt confident enough to respond with a cold, “I think his feelings were made very clear.”
Miller blinked his big eyes at her and she felt badly to have made him the target of her attitude.
“Dar—”
But he didn’t get a chance to finish because they heard Jason’s footsteps. She avoided their eyes, wondering if she should ask Miller to take her home. Somehow the gesture seemed childish. Maybe she could hitch a cab.
“I’ll take you home,” Jason said, as if reading her thoughts.
“You guys really should stay here,” Miller said, following them to the front door. “It would be safer.”
“No,” Jason replied quietly without turning around. “I don’t want Daria with anyone but me.”
The brick wall around her heart shook, his words an earthquake threatening to topple it. Don’t listen. You’re just a homework assignment. He doesn’t mean what you think he means.
Instead, she deflected, “Look, I’m really tired and—”
“And what?” Miller snapped. “You think things will just go back to normal? That everyone is going to take a break from killing you while you get your beauty rest?”
Daria flinched. She didn’t know what to think anymore. She just wanted to sink into a tub and then go to bed. Sleep could give her a few hours of blessed peace. When she woke up the next morning, maybe she’d have an answer for her breaking heart, how to fend off the creatures after her, and how to make sure no one else got hurt.
Miller turned his anger on Jason. “What are you going to do about Damien?”
“Nothing.” Jason seemed unfazed. “He has the right to marry her. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to allow it. Let’s go.”
Actions, not words. That’s what Damien said to me. Unmoving, she stared at Jason’s back. Damien had missed something in his assessment. He’d forgotten about motivation.
Did Jason stay for guilt and duty alone?
Daria shot Miller a quick glance. At least her coworker had given her another option. If she really had to leave Jason, she could still come here for shelter. If she lived that long.
“I can stay with Miller if that’s easier.” Though she didn’t want Miller hurt either, if his home provided a greater degree of safety for everyone, then why not?
Jason froze and a sudden chill entered the air. He turned around slowly, stiffly. When his eyes locked on hers, she wondered if this was how John felt that night in the alleyway. Petrified. Frost washed over her and she wanted nothing more than to rub her arms and regain some warmth.
In one step, Jason was by her side. He gazed down at her, the intensity and heat of his golden eyes burning her, melting away the polar atmosphere. Her legs grew weak. If he kept staring at her like she was the first meal of a starving man, she’d give him whatever he wanted.
He raised his hand to touch her cheek and then let it fall, bunching it into a fist by his side. “Would you rather stay with Miller?” he whispered hoarsely.
God, he was killing her. Anguish paled his face. She could have run over his dog and then squashed his heart with a big-rig and he couldn’t have appeared more tortured.
The brick around her heart crumbled, turned to dust by his smoldering eyes. She suppressed a sigh. So much for guarding herself from getting hurt. And so much for not falling for him, too fast and too soon. He already had her wrapped around his little finger and she couldn’t refuse him anything.
It was so unfair. He had to know what he was doing to her with that hurt expression of his. Yet she saw no guile or manipulation. Just pained patience, waiting for her decision to leave with him or stay with Miller. It was a losing battle. If she forfeited and gave her heart free rein, she knew she’d fall faster than a rock off a cliff. Except she didn’t know what lay at the bottom of the canyon.
Daria stepped into his arms and he held her as though she should have never left his embrace. She pressed a quick kiss on his lips. “Let’s go home.”
Miller rolled his eyes and opened the door for them. “You two really need to get a room,” he grumbled.
They ignored him, hurrying toward Jason’s car.
“Just think about it,” Miller insisted.
Jason nodded. “Thanks again, Miller.”
Miller’s initial smile vanished as his brows furrowed. “When is Alastor coming?”
Daria glanced at Jason in question. Who was Alastor?
“He arrived this morning.”
Miller nodded. “My door is always open for you guys.”
“Thank you, Miller,” Daria said. Impulsively, she reached out and gave him a quick hug before jumping into the car with a little wave good-bye. As Jason drove away Daria looked back, awestruck, toward the immense estate, her first view of the impressive exterior. An English manor with a limestone façade and brown shingles rose up from acres of manicured lawn. She could barely take it all in—gabled rooftops, rectangular windows like the castles of yore, three chimney tops, and at least three balconies. With its high turrets, Miller’s house resembled a castle far more than a mansion.
Reading the street signs, she realized they were in Winnetka, and suddenly understood just how much money Miller had. A few minutes later she and Jason were on the road back to downtown and more average, less impressive scenery. The gentle rush of wind and the hum of the engine calmed her frayed nerves.
They didn’t say much on the drive. She sat in the passenger seat, arms folded over her chest, huddled into a little ball against the leather upholstery, content with the silence for company. Though her mind was anything but quiet.
They’d all said her maturation date was nearing. That would be when the monsters came for her. An involuntary shudder traversed her body. She had to figure out what to do these next few days.
First, she needed more information. “Why didn’t you want to stay at Miller’s?” Daria asked.
She barely heard Jason sigh. “His house sits on three intersecting lines of energy. It’s an apex of power for witches. He—we could definitely protect you there.”
“But?” she prodded.
“They would know and lay siege. It would turn into a virtual prison.” He glanced at her quickly before turning his eyes back to the road. “That’s no way to live. Alice already lived cloistered in a castle so she was used to it. There’s no way you could stand not stepping outside.”
Daria narrowed her eyes and turned to the window. Now he was comparing Alice to her. And finding me wanting. Jealousy surged through her. What was so great about Alice that he couldn’t let her go after five centuries? Perhaps Alice was sweet, gentle, and kind. But so am I.
“Tell me about her.” Daria tried and failed to keep the surly tone to a minimum. It was masochistic to ask, but she wanted to know.
His hands tightened on the steering wheel for a second before loosening his grip. He said nothing at first, just drove in silence. Interminable seconds trickled by.
“She was an earl’s daughter,” he began softly. “A lady of breeding. She never talked out of turn, never said anything unkind.” His brows knitted as though a new contemplation had come to mind. “Alice was educated and trained to make a good political marriage.”
What was he trying to say? That she talked out of turn and said mean things? Not a lady, either. Her parents weren’t nobility of course, but who was these days? Daria glared at him in disbelief. Was he even listening to himself? If looks could kill, he’d have roasted alive already.
As if he read her mind, an amused
smile touched Jason’s lips. But his eyes remained focused on the road. “She understood the danger she was in. Her father also had other soldiers. Protecting her was easy,” he stated.
If it was too damn hard dealing with her, then he was welcome to leave. Daria huffed in indignation and turned to stare out the window. She wanted to strangle him.
“You two must have spent a lot of time together. You seem to know her really well,” she remarked bitterly.
“I began protecting her when she was a child.” Jason inhaled a deep breath. “If John hadn’t tried to kill you, I wouldn’t have shown myself.”
The handle of the armrest surrendered to her anger, as her tight grip whitened her knuckles and her nails dug into the leather. He was willing to show himself to Alice but seemed to regret letting Daria know about his existence. Anonymity would have been better for both of them. Then she wouldn’t be sitting here, fuming.
The smile on his face widened. “Alice needed me. You two are so different.”
“I got that!” she snapped. The sharp words cut between them and she bit her tongue. Bile rose to her throat. She was sure smoke shot from her nostrils and out her ears. Damn it! She hadn’t wanted Jason to know he upset her like this.
His hand covered hers, his cold fingers curling around to nestle in her warm palm. “Why all these questions about Alice?”
“I was just curious,” she mumbled in misery.
Silence descended within the car and they said nothing more as they entered downtown. When he parked along the curb of her building and shut off the engine, his hand still hadn’t strayed from hers.
She felt him lift her hand and press her fingers to his lips. “Are you done being angry with me?”
Daria turned to him with narrowed eyes. So he had noticed. Some of the heaviness in her heart disappeared to know he wasn’t as dense and clueless as he seemed. That he at least bothered to ask.
Blood In The Stars Page 13