They stopped their conversation as she walked in. Jason jumped to his feet. “How is she?”
“Clean. Naked.” She tried a reassuring smile that no doubt fell flat. “There was too much blood to save her clothes. So you two be gentlemen when you go up.”
Miller bolted out of his chair and had sped halfway down the hallway, when the phone rang. He flew back and grabbed his cell.
“You need to come over right now,” Miller barked without offering a greeting. Audible grumbling came from the receiver before he cut in with, “Candy’s wounded. We think it was Balthazar.”
In the sudden silence, Miller hung up the phone. He turned to Jason, searching for the right words. “I know you don’t want Alastor here.”
“Everyone needs to know,” was Jason’s reply. Miller nodded and left.
An uneasy silence seemed to settle between them, with everything already said yet so much left unspoken. The large room they stood in held little privacy, with rows of windows on both sides. Probably to give the residents a view of the lake. Or to prevent sneak attacks. Funny how her perspective had changed with her life on the line. Each day seemed bleaker than the one before.
“Who’s Balthazar?” Daria finally asked.
Jason stared at his feet, the picture of repentance. “Balthazar was the demon who killed Alice.” A raspy, bitter laugh rose from his chest. “The one I thought had died with her five hundred years ago.”
Tremors blasted through her body and she hugged herself to keep them under control. “You’re sure?”
He frowned and gazed past her shoulder to the hallway, his eyes seeing far into the past. “That dark form was Balthazar’s signature. I recognized the markings on his body.”
Daria stepped closer to Jason, suddenly wanting the warmth of his arms, the heat of his body, something to stop the shivers. “And Alice? What makes you think she’s alive?”
He shrugged absently. “Just a gut feeling.” His eyes focused on her nearness and he folded his arms around her. “Cold?”
She leaned her forehead against his chest. “Not anymore.”
Gut feelings didn’t exactly make for solid evidence, but if Jason thought Alice was alive, that was reason enough for Daria to worry. She didn’t lack confidence that Jason loved her. Rather, she worried Alice would come to take him away. No girl wanted an ex to show up. Especially one back from the dead.
His golden eyes peered down at her and his half-hearted smile pierced her heart. “It’s been a crazy night,” he admitted, tucking her hair behind her ear. “But you did great. I couldn’t have gotten Candy here without you.”
She didn’t do anything except follow his lead. Daria knew he said it for her benefit, to reassure her that they had things under control. Yet oddly, she had never felt things had gone awry until his reassurance, just now.
Jason had always stood steadfast and stalwart. A solid rock. Except now she saw some cracks. Balthazar, and the possibility of Alice’s resurrection, affected him more than he let on.
“You still love me, right?”
A bemused smile lit his face. “For years now. Did you think that Al—”
“Then stop trying to carry the world on your shoulders,” she chided. “Sure, I don’t like it that your last love interest might be hanging around. But what I hate even more is when you don’t tell me what you’re thinking.”
She led him to sit on the couch and held his hand in hers. With a patient smile and—she hoped—a fortified heart, she asked, “Now tell me what’s really bothering you.”
He laughed. “You’re starting to know me too well.” Jason leaned his head back on the couch and sighed. “I guess I started to wonder if it would be easier to kill them.”
Her heart thumped at his confession. If he didn’t kill, he could heal. If he did, she’d benefit, too. She stood at a crossroad, one filled with light and life, the other flooded with death and safety, not knowing which she’d choose.
When she saw the dilemma constricting Jason’s face in torment, she had her answer.
“The fact that you have to think about it at all should tell you what you must do,” she pointed out. His brows rose as she added, “Other people just kill. They don’t obsess over it.”
Daria leaned against him, glad this wonderful man had a conscience and a heart. With a quick laugh she admonished, “Just get over it. You’re not made to kill.”
For a moment, his body sat stiff against hers. Gradually, he relaxed and he threw an arm around her shoulder.
“What else?” she probed.
“I’m worried Balthazar will come after you.”
For her? That demon came for Jason. She was sure of it. But it touched her to know after everything that happened, her safety remained paramount in his considerations. He really did love her. Above all else.
“I have all of you protecting me. You don’t need to worry.”
Jason glanced out the window, his forehead creased in a frown. “The shield around the house isn’t impenetrable. There’s still risk.”
She needed a little more time. Just a few more hours and surely she’d be able to protect everyone. She’d never let anything happen to him, to any of them. If she had to sacrifice her life to protect her friends, she would.
Daria pressed her body closer, molding it to his, and breathed in a whiff of fresh laundry, soap, and a mild aftershave. If such a smell was all she could have for the rest of her life, she would be happy.
“As long as I’m with you, I feel safe,” she whispered.
He pressed a kiss to the top of her head and she smiled against him, feeling more loved than she ever had in her life.
Jason remained quiet for a while, seemingly content to continue stroking her hair. Then he murmured, “We’re going to marry even if it costs me my life.”
His vehement vow, a plea of despair as well as hope, sent shivers through her body. She didn’t want him under all that pressure. Marriage paled in importance to what she’d already gained.
Daria sat back and locked her hands behind his neck. “The love was all I needed.” She pressed her lips to his tenderly, conveying all the feelings she still didn’t have a chance to voice. She caressed him, her hands trailing across his jaw to his neck and shoulders. Their kiss was sweet and gentle, as though they had all the time in the world to explore each other, as though death didn’t knock on their door.
Jason lifted his head. “I love you. Nothing and no one, dead or alive, will change that.”
Tears stung her eyes from his declaration. She couldn’t imagine life without him anymore. If that was love, then she had fallen a long time ago.
“Jason, I . . .” Her cheeks heated.
He gave her a curious stare, waiting for her to finish her thought.
“I . . .” Her voice broke and she swallowed hard.
She didn’t get to finish. A rush of feet sounded on the polished floor just as a soft buzz came from another part of the house.
Miller burst into the room. “It’s Damien. He’s outside and hurt.”
Jason’s jaw hardened as he leapt to his feet. “I left my sword out there. And your shield prevents me from changing.”
Daria tripped in her hurry to stand. She grabbed his arm. “Be careful.”
He covered her hand with his and nodded.
“I’ll be right behind you,” Miller assured.
“No,” Jason rasped. “Stay here and protect Daria and Candy. Let me out but do not let anything get in.”
Daria ran to keep up with his long strides. She half-expected him to tell her to stay inside the house. But he didn’t, seeming to forget that she trotted behind. The crisp night air greeted them as they hurried to the gate.
Jason picked up his sword from the gravel. “Open the gate.”
No one moved. She supposed Miller wondered the same thing she did. Where was Damien?
An eerie silence spread along Sheridan Road. Unlit street lamps and the lack of passing cars left the dusky road desolate of life. Then with the whispering hiss of a newly lit match, the evening burst alive with a trail of fire scalding the asphalt.
A buzz sounded and the gate creaked open. With the opening measuring no more than a foot, Jason stepped outside. Another buzz sounded and the gate began to close. A chill entered the air. She knew that feeling well now. It happened whenever Jason was angry or when he needed to face an enemy.
For a second, she thought the shadows tricked the light. First the wristbands widened, the ominous black cuffs covering several inches down his wrist. A thin silver thread extended from the bands to the ground before vanishing. Then a black ripple encased his shoulders and arms, and flowed down to end into the hem of a long coat. A strong breeze broke through and pushed back his shoulder-length hair.
Fear scaled her arms and she rubbed them to stay warm. He had changed into the one who had first saved her in the alleyway, the one who left her witless from fright. Cold danger seeped into every step, his threatening presence creating what felt like an ocean’s distance between them instead of the few feet he now stood from her.
This form of his scared her, but it didn’t matter to her what form he took. He could turn into a killing machine. He could become a coward. He could change into the devil himself and she would still stay by his side.
Because she loved him.
Jason watched Damien blast a blazing fire between him and his attackers. His back faced the house and his hunched stance suggested he bowled over in pain. The enemies stayed beyond the flames. Some came as old, fat men with balding curls and floppy ears; others, rotting carcasses with putrid green pus oozing out from gaping orifices. Some appeared as winged skeletons. Their forms varied but all radiated evil.
No clear leader stood amongst the mishmash of demons, but he didn’t believe this throng had come on its own.
The crowd lunged for Damien. He raised his hands to the sky and the wall of fire burst to double his height. Sharp shrieks split the night and when the fire settled down, charred bodies littered the ground.
Jason pushed forward.
“I don’t need your help!” Damien bellowed.
If Damien hadn’t wanted their help, then he shouldn’t have called. Jason wouldn’t fault Damien for his pride, but this really wasn’t the time.
Malevolent eyes turned to the gate. They had seen Daria, and their insatiable hunger for her flesh and blood, their lust for power and immortality, made them reckless.
They ran for her.
Jason swung his sword high, cutting the leg off a demon. Damien launched a fireball his way. He ducked. Someone screamed behind him before the gate banged shut. Good. Now to focus on the attackers before them.
Jason ran to Damien, who glared at him. “I said I didn’t need your help,” he grumbled.
Several deep gashes cut across Damien’s stomach, evidence of mauling from razor-sharp claws. His black shirt helped to hide the injury and only the flickering flames revealed any blood, though he’d probably lost a lot of it.
Jason wouldn’t be able to heal him here. It would have to wait until they got inside. He scanned the crowd but didn’t see any creature capable of causing such severe wounds.
“A shadow.” Damien gestured toward the dark street. “I never saw the bastard’s face.”
Fear crawled up Jason’s spine. Had Balthazar left them and gone straight to Damien? When had the demon’s powers grown to such heights that even Damien could be injured? And if Balthazar truly lived, why had he waited so long to reveal himself?
The questions plagued his thoughts, but he didn’t have time to dwell. Behind the ranks of demons came a cry of death. He and Damien stiffened, preparing for another attack.
A flash of brilliant light broke the darkness and Jason relaxed. He placed his hand on Damien’s shoulder. “Your favorite person is here,” Jason murmured.
Damien spat. “I don’t need that asshole’s help.”
They watched demons annihilated, one after another from behind, with the bursts of light the only evidence of the intruder. Blood stained the ground until it flowed like red rain. It disappeared until the next deluge replaced it. Arms and legs splayed everywhere. And as Jason stood as merely an observer, he wondered if he was still culpable, maybe even guiltier, for doing nothing.
He heard a gasp behind him, spun around, and realized it was too late. “Don’t look!”
Daria’s hands pressed against the bars as she gaped with ashen lips at the killing, her face white and her eyes wide with horror. He didn’t want her to see this part of his world, didn’t want her burden to grow even greater.
Miller tugged at her arm but her hands tightened on the gate.
“Please stop looking,” Jason begged.
Her vacant eyes focused on his with a faint flicker of recognition. Then she blinked and tensed. Her lips parted in a strangled scream. Peeling her fingers from their death grip, her entire body shook as she pointed into the street.
But Jason already knew. Beside him, Damien cursed.
Alastor strode to them, his hair shortening to its human length, his long black trench fading into the night as though never there. Only the glowing sword in his hand remained, blood dripping down its length from tip to hilt.
His brother shot a brief glare at Damien before turning to Jason. “Better fix him up. If he dies, I won’t get to see his face when the auspicious one chooses me.”
Damien reached for Alastor but Jason gripped his shoulder. With a murderous growl, Damien shrugged off Jason’s hand and hobbled to the house.
The street lamps had come back on and in the distance, Jason heard the hum of approaching vehicles. The chirp of crickets added to the chorus and soft flickers showed fireflies had reclaimed their nightly vigil. As if everything were back to normal.
“Aren’t you going to thank me?” Alastor asked, hands shoved in the pockets of his khaki slacks. Now wearing a sea green polo that brought out the blue in his eyes, Alastor didn’t look as if he needed appreciation from his brother. Instead, he eyed Jason closely, perhaps measuring his resolve, or weighing his soul.
Then Alastor smirked. “Now’s your chance, little brother. I am unarmed and you can claim your prize. Kill me and you will have the auspicious one. I know you want to.”
Jason stared at his hand, suddenly realizing he had raised his sword at Alastor as he neared. What am I doing? He didn’t want to kill his brother. Never had. Was it a reflexive move? Had Alastor’s threatening presence left him defensive? Or had his powers really taken over, eager to reach their full potential?
Killing Alastor might solve all his problems. He would rise as heir to his House, he could marry Daria, and life would be perfect, right? Jason almost laughed at the thought.
He could no more stop loving Daria, than stop breathing. Without her, he preferred death.
Yet Jason could not kill his brother. He would never be able to live with the guilt of destroying his family for the one he loved. And he had no doubt Daria would not want him to.
Jason dropped his arm. He sighed. “Thank you.”
Alastor stared at him, lips curling back in a snarl. “You disgust me,” he hissed.
Silently they returned to the house, where Damien still waited outside the gate. From the way Daria backed up as they neared, Jason wasn’t sure Miller was going to let them in at all.
“My guts are about to fall out,” Damien complained, holding his stomach.
But Daria had turned toward the lake. “Let them in,” she cried, her breath quickening. “Something’s out there.”
Chapter 17
As soon as the gate closed behind the
men, Daria ran toward the house. Something waited out there. And she wouldn’t feel safe until she was back in the wood and stone confines of Miller’s mansion.
Her feet crunched on the gravel drive. In the horizon, small green speckles of light glowed. The lyrical tinkling of rain drowned out their footfalls. She glanced up at the sky, wondering if perhaps the weather had changed to a Chicago storm. The sound became louder and nearer, but the skies remained clear. She paused, squinting at the lake, trying to gauge why the bright green dots seemed to become even more vivid and grow closer.
“The house,” Miller urged with a nudge on her arm, but she remained mesmerized by the lights. They were no longer dots now, but had elongated, the looming radiance of an alien form.
A deafening thwack came from above and Daria recoiled, jumping back in alarm. She raised her eyes to the sky and saw a salamander-like man flail mid-air. Its translucent green skin glowed in the dark and its bulging black eyes rolled back in its head. Squealing and shrieking, its amphibious toes desperately clung and clawed the air, before it stopped and its lifeless body fell. The air around the house flickered for an instant as Daria stared at her surroundings with new, horrified eyes.
Another creature landed yards above the house, only to be zapped by invisible electricity before hitting the ground. Light flashed as the energy killed one creature after another. The monsters stayed back, surrounding the perimeter of the property.
This had to be the protective barrier Jason spoke of. The creature hadn’t clung to air, but tried to grab onto the dome surrounding the house. From what she could tell, the protection extended the circumference of the home and sealed the entire area above. Anything that touched it was electrocuted. That would explain why Jason needed Miller to open the gate. But why could she touch it and stay unharmed?
A strong hand clasped her upper arm and Miller tugged her toward the house. She staggered once but followed obediently, unwilling to remain outside where dozens, maybe hundreds of pairs of gleaming black eyes watched her with blank stares. Yet she felt their intention, the urge to slake their thirst with her life. She shuddered from the thought.
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