Desire

by P. T. Michelle

  Ethan chuckles and wraps his arms around my waist. “Good, ‘cause I’m always going to want to make you my own personal lollypop.”

  His comment makes my insides quiver. Smiling, I run my tongue along his collarbone, saying, “Mmm, you taste really good right here. I wonder if you taste different in other places…”

  Ethan groans and lifts me upright, his eyes blazing with heat. “Are you trying to drive me crazy?”

  I frown. “Why would you say that? I thought you’d love the idea of—”

  He shakes his head, a frustrated look on his face. “I have to go get Samson soon. Remember?”

  I smile and flip my hand. “Well, never mind then.”

  Strong hands flex on my waist. “Oh no. I’m holding you to that promise.”

  My eyebrows shoot up. “What promise? I don’t remember making any.”

  Ethan’s face reflects determination. “The next time I get you alone, I’m going to tease you non-stop. I’ll lick and nibble and kiss you from head to toe…”

  I feel my face drain of color. I know firsthand just how good he is at teasing. I shake my head quickly. “No, Ethan.”

  Pulling me forward, he whispers next to my ear, his voice full of merciless intent. “Be ready to want me desperately. That scar on your palm is going to be working overtime soon, Sunshine.”

  I involuntarily clamp my hand tight, thinking how easily his touch on my scar sends my hormones into overdrive. Leaning forward, I whisper back, trailing my fingers over his shoulder and down across the top of the sword tattoo gracing his shoulder blade. “You know…ever since you told me this tattoo is sensitive to my touch, it only makes me want to explore it even more.”

  Ethan hisses in my ear and grips my hand. Lifting it off his shoulder, he laces our fingers together and grunts. “Truce?”

  I give him a saucy smile. “For now.”

  Ethan chuckles the entire time we’re getting dressed in the backseat. While I tug on my shirt, he catches my elbow a split second before I ping him in the eye. Then he quickly diverts my foot from hitting a sensitive area as I shrug into my skinny jeans. Settling back into the seat, I offer an apologetic smile. “Sorry. Seemed like a lot more room a few minutes ago.”

  Shaking his head, he smiles. “It feels good to laugh. I wouldn’t trade this experience for anything in the world, Nara.” He drops a kiss on my nose. “Moments like this with you are priceless.”

  I’ve never seen him so laidback and happy, and I’m glad I had a little something to do with that. Once we’re settled in the front seat, he threads his fingers with mine and rests our clasped hands on his thigh, and then we drive out of the woods, heading back to Blue Ridge.

  He’s so relaxed, I realize now might be a good time to tell him what Michael said. That maybe he might be open to hearing the truth if his guard isn’t quite so high.

  Rubbing my thumb over his, I say, “Michael told me something else while we talked downstairs.”

  He glances my way. “He did? What did he say?”

  I take a breath and plunge on. “He said that Fate was being meddlesome, but that he wasn’t lying. You are the Master Corvus.”

  His fingers flex against mine and the car lurches forward, suddenly accelerating. “The Corvus inside me would know if he was the Master Corvus.”

  I watch the speedometer climb to eighty, then eighty-five. “Ethan, please slow down.”

  His hand cinches tight around my fingers. “It’s not true,” he says, raising his voice.

  I yank my hand from his and yell, “Slow down, right now!”

  Ethan shakes his head and blinks as if he’s shocked to hear me scream at him. Finally his foot eases on the pedal. We both breathe heavily and stare at the windshield.

  After several minutes of silence, he says, “I’m sorry I scared you, but what you’re saying can’t possibly be true. I would’ve known that Danielle lied to me and that she’d gone dark. I would’ve known that I created all the other Corvus out there. I would’ve known where they’re located. I would’ve known what happened in the past with the Order—”

  “That’s just it, Ethan. Something happened thirty years ago. Something that contributed to the Master Corvus forgetting who he is.”

  “But if I’m the Master Corvus, that means I’m solely responsible for all the Furiae that have been created.”

  And with that last, regretful comment, I realize why he’s so freaked out. Only Ethan would completely ignore the implication that being the Master Corvus means he’ll have to face and fight Lucifer—a realization that terrifies me. No, instead he’s reacting with supreme guilt.

  I reach for his hand and fold my fingers around his. “Ethan, you aren’t the Master Corvus. You didn’t forget who you are. The spirit did. You didn’t create the Furiae. My guess is they’ve risen in numbers over the past thirty years because he’s forgotten and is running purely on instinct.”

  “It doesn’t change the fact I might’ve created some over the past couple of months, Nara,” he says, his hand going slack against mine. “So yeah, I’ve contributed. And right now the Corvus is inside me screaming ‘hell no’. I can’t hear him, but I feel his furious denial, his rage and his utter resentment over the suggestion. He doesn’t believe it. He trusts no one.”

  “Not even me?” I say, sadness making my heart ache.

  Ethan doesn’t answer at first, but then he squeezes my fingers, his tone softening. “He doesn’t trust your source.”

  My eyes widen. “He doesn’t trust Michael?”

  Ethan’s jaw muscle jumps. “Not anyone. Don’t ask me how I know. I just do.” Staring straight ahead, he murmurs, “I wish I could talk to Michael myself—to see what angle he’s playing, but I can’t even see the archangel.”

  A few seconds pass, as if he’s working through something while he drives, then his focus snaps to me. “What is this job Michael expects you to do?”

  I take a breath and gesture toward him. “He wants me to help the Master Corvus remember.”

  An utter stillness sweeps across his expression right before he pulls away and sets both hands on the steering wheel, tension stiffening his shoulders. “So, I’m an assignment?”

  “Of course not. I was just answering your question as to what Michael had to say about the Master Corvus. If you ask, I will always tell you the truth, Ethan. That’s a promise we made to each other. Remember?”

  “Why didn’t you tell me what he said this morning?”

  I gesture to him. “Look at your reaction. You were worked up this morning. I waited until I thought you were in a better frame of mind.”

  He shrugs as if my response doesn’t matter, like he’d already made up his own mind about my motivations.

  Great. This is turning into one of those “I can’t win” moments.

  “I hope you don’t mind if I just drop you by your car, then go. I don’t want to be late picking Samson up.”

  I check the clock on my phone. He has plenty of time to pick up his brother. I open my mouth to call him on it, but instead I just nod. Maybe he needs some time alone. “Whatever works best for you.” I can tell I’ve shocked him. He reacted exactly like I thought he would, which makes me glad I’d waited to tell him. This morning would’ve been a disaster.

  I glance over his profile, his face now a mask of impassiveness, and wonder how much of his reaction is the Corvus inside him, protesting with every spiritual fiber of his being. Then again, if the spirit suddenly believed he was capable of the Master Corvus’ powers right after he got this news, I’m not so sure I’d want to be within blast radius. Maybe I should count myself lucky the raven spirit inside him is even more stubborn than Ethan.

  Staring out the window at the burgeoning clouds threatening more snow, I wonder all over again what Michael saw in me all those years ago. Why does he think I’m the perfect person to lead the Master Corvus back to himself? So far I really suck at this job.

  Chapter Four

  Nara

  After Ethan
dropped me off, I ran some Christmas errands, then decided to do something constructive instead of going home and stewing in frustration.

  I drove straight to the cemetery.

  The blanket of snow over Freddie’s grave made it harder to find right away, but I finally managed to dig up the book on ravens I’d buried there for safekeeping.

  I plan to scour the book tonight once more on my own, then I’ll call Ethan over to look at it with me tomorrow. I know he needs some time to sort the Master Corvus stuff out in his head. Hopefully by then, he’ll be in a better frame of mind to help me try to figure out how the book ties into my role.

  My gut tells me there’s more to it than Michael has let on. One thing’s for sure; at least one demon is still out there looking for this book with the belief it holds the key to killing the Master Corvus—something Lucifer would definitely want to possess if it’s true.

  So far I haven’t noticed any more disturbed snow around the tree outside my window. The snow had already filled in where the demon who’d kidnapped me—well, Drystan, who’d been possessed by the demon at the time—had tried and failed to find Freddie’s book there, which is where I told him I’d hidden it. Thoughts of Drystan with his spiked mess of blond-streaked, light-brown hair and teasing smile flash through my mind. After everything that happened, I’m thankful we said goodbye on good terms.

  Nara?

  I jerk my head around, my fingers clutching the steering wheel tight. The voice echoing in my head had an accent that sounded just like…“Drystan?” I whisper. Nothing. Shaking my head, I sigh, knowing I conjured up his Welsh lilt calling my name.

  Did Drystan make it to London okay? Is he settling into his new life? Is he going to join his uncle’s group, the Order, and play a Paladin support role to a Corvus? Now that he’s probably already seen the Order’s headquarters in London, I have so many questions I want to ask him. Hopefully I’ll hear from him soon.

  The sudden trilling on my phone, its ring tone telling me it’s someone I don’t know, grabs my attention. I quickly answer, snickering at the idea that my thoughts could’ve prompted Drystan to call with his new contact information like he’d promised before he left.

  “Hello?”

  “Nara? It’s David.”

  “Oh, hey…” I’m a bit thrown that he’s calling me. It still feels awkward not calling him Mr. Dixon like I do in Spanish class, but for Mom’s sake, I make the effort. “David. Are you and Mom all done with the decorations?”

  “Yep, we finished up a couple hours ago. Actually, that’s why I’m calling. Are you home?”

  “No, but I’ll be there in about ten minutes. Why?”

  “While your Mom’s out grocery shopping for Christmas Eve’s dinner tomorrow night, would you mind if I stopped by to drop her present off? It’s a bulky box and I’d rather hide it at your house than bring it in with me tomorrow night. I can be there not long after you get home.”

  “Sure. No problem. See you in a bit.”

  Houdini nudges his big head against my thigh as I walk into the kitchen from the garage. I’m kind of relieved Mom’s not home right now. I know we need to talk about Dad, but right now my nerves are wound pretty tight over Ethan/Corvus stuff.

  I set my phone on the island, then lay the bundle of mistletoe on top of Freddie’s book. After Mr. Dixon leaves, I’ll put the book away and hang the mistletoe. The last thing I want is for my teacher to assume the mistletoe is for him and my mom. Ugh.

  I shake my head and take in the over-the-top decorated tree, and the holly and red ribbon adorning every bit of shelf space in the living room. The tree might be fake, but now I smell pine. Yep, Mom’s even put in a wall plug-in that’s spritzing the scent each time I move into its motion detector range. I step back out of its path to stand between the kitchen and the living room. Houdini sneezes then leans against my thigh. Rubbing my thumb on the soft spot between his eyes and down along his nose, I murmur, “Don’t worry. That plug-in’s magically disappearing tonight.”

  When my dog’s only response is to tilt his head like he’s desperately trying to understand me, I smile. “Never mind. Do you want to go out?” His ears jump up, right before he bounds to the front door. I laugh and grab his leash from the coatrack. “Come on. We may as well take care of this before Mr. Dixon gets here.”

  The moment I open the front door, Houdini jerks out of my hand before I can attach the leash to his collar. I call for him to stop, but this time he pins his ears to the side of his head and bolts after two rabbits. Tufts of snow kick up behind his big paws as he darts around the side of our house. A moment of worry sets in, but it’s freezing out, and Houdini has never taken off from my yard before when he’s been let off the leash. He’ll be back before too long. Sighing, I start to close the door when Mr. Dixon’s car pulls into the driveway.

  I wait while Mr. Dixon unfolds his tall, lanky frame from his car, then carries a wrapped box the size of a small microwave up the walkway to our door.

  “That’s definitely bigger than a breadbasket,” I tease, eyeing the huge white bow on top of the red box.

  The brisk air ruffles his short hair as he shifts the box in his arms. “Yeah, it’s a bit awkward.”

  Stepping out of the doorway, I gesture toward the tree. “You can put it under there.”

  He follows me inside. “I was hoping I could hide it. Your mom might guess what’s in the box. I want to surprise her.”

  I shut the door and stare at the box. “What is it?”

  “A crock pot,” he says, a hint of a smirk tilting his lips.

  I hold back an instant desire to snicker at such a strange gift. Clearing my throat, I keep my face as straight as possible. “Oh, I don’t think she’d guess that in a million years.”

  He shrugs, his amusement melting into a smile. “There’s another gift inside—that’s the best part of the present. I want her to be surprised, so yeah, I’d like to hide it. Maybe in your garage behind a storage box on the shelves?”

  I lift my hand toward the garage door in the kitchen. “Go for it.”

  I follow him out to the garage and pull down a big plastic storage box to hide the gift behind. Once he places the gift on the shelf, I slide the box back into place, covering it up.

  As we enter the kitchen once more, he asks, “Can I get a glass of water, Nara? Been running around all morning and haven’t even had time for lunch.”

  “Sure.” I turn from pulling down a glass to see Mr. Dixon’s standing there with a butcher knife in his hand and murderous intent in his eyes.

  The glass shatters across the floor, but before I can take more than one step, he rushes me. Shoving me against the counter, he presses the sharp edge of the knife against the side of my throat.

  I instinctively claw his hand, trying to pull the knife away, but he’s just too strong. He doesn’t budge. As pinpricks of pain radiate from my neck and fear shoots through me, my phone starts to ring on the counter. Ethan’s ringtone. He must sense I’m in danger. My phone continues to ring and ring.

  “No one’s going to help you. Least of all that Corvus. I’ve made sure to let some of Lucifer’s demons know there’s a Corvus here in town. They’ll be coming after him soon enough.” David’s voice is harsh and grating, so unlike his usual pleasant one.” When my eyes snap to his, his tone turns almost conversational. “It’s been a while. What did the demon call you that night at the school?” David tilts his head, sifting through memories, then gives me a cold smile. “Ah, yes, little bird.”

  As soon as he says “little bird” I know which demon has possessed my mother’s boyfriend; the same demon that took over an evil guy named Drake so he could attack me during the school dance. All because the demon wanted Freddie’s book.

  My heart beats harder. I keep my attention on him and hope the mistletoe I set on the book is completely covering its blue edges.

  Only this can’t be him, can it? I shake my head in confusion. “He…he obliterated you that night. I saw it happen. You’
re supposed to be gone…” I trail off when another option occurs.

  David’s face contorts in anger. “Being jabbed by that Corvus’ sword hurt like a motherfucker, but he didn’t just send the Lucifer demon—that Inferi—who’d taken over my body to Under. Your boyfriend’s sword also separated my soul from my body when he killed me, allowing me to take over any body I want now.” He glances down at Mr. Dixon’s hand fisted around the knife, then pushes the blade even closer. “Your teacher getting it on with your mom gave me perfect access. I just had to wait until that other Inferi stopped sniffing around here before I slipped into good old David’s lanky frame. Who knows…maybe I’ll stick around and see if your mom is cougar material.”

  “Don’t even think of going near her,” I say, baring my teeth at the demon.

  He chuckles, then the pain in my neck sharpens and a slight metallic taste fills my mouth. I’d been right about the other option; during their fight at the school dance, Ethan’s sword had sent the Inferi inside Drake’s body back to Under. But apparently Drake had been possessed too long by a Lucifer demon and his human soul had been fully corrupted. Ethan’s sword had killed Drake, turning his soul into a Furia—a single demon bound to Lucifer’s will and doomed to roam the Mortal world.

  My fingers dig at David’s wrist, and I try once more to pull the knife away from my throat. This time, when I tighten my fingers and grip his skin, David glances at my hand in annoyance, noticing my hold on him for the first time.

  “Stop screwing around!” he bites out. “I want that raven book you stole from me. And you’re going to tell me where it is. Right now.”

  I jump when Houdini throws himself against the front door. Vicious snarls and frenzied defense mode barking alternate between scratches on the door. He smells the demon in our house.

  During a split second of silence, a text comes through on my phone, drawing my attention. The second David follows my line of sight, instant recognition of the book’s edge underneath the mistletoe sparks in his eyes.