by May Dawson
Olivia's eyes on mine were sympathetic. "I didn't get an invite yet, but I'm expecting one."
"You are?"
She nodded. "They might want me to testify about what happened. When my brothers came here. They charged Nimshi, and it's a fatal crime for a demon to attack a hunter."
"Isn't being a demon just fatal when it comes to Hunters?"
"Yeah," she said. "But this is a little different. All Hunters try to kill demons when they find them, but the death order would be like a... bounty. A point of pride among Hunters. Everyone would be trying to kill Nimshi."
"He's already dead."
"That's a good thing for right now," she said.
"I don't know how we're going to live without him," I said. "What if he is in the Far? That’s like the best case scenario. If my sister can't stay in the Far without losing her mind, he can't either."
I never wanted to show the guys just how hopeless I felt. I had to be strong. And yet for some reason, it bubbled up with Olivia. “I don’t know what we’re going to do, even if we find him.”
"I imagine, Ellis Landon," Olivia said, "That you'll march up to the gates of Heaven and tell them off."
"I don't know how to do that," I said.
"Yet." Her voice was full of confidence in me and in my boys that I didn’t quite share. Yet.
She swiveled and pressed a button on her laptop, bringing up her screen on one of the big monitors. A bleak-faced man stared down at us. "Let's talk about the members of the Council that you're about to outwit."
Olivia was a total optimist, but that was what I needed right now.
Chapter 6
That evening, a hard summer rain fell. It drummed against the floor-to-ceiling windows in the living room, washing them gray. The steady pounding seemed as hypnotic in its own way as the crackle and pop of the fire in the fireplace. I curled up with my feet tucked underneath me on the couch and an enormous bowl of my mom's homemade pasta, sauce and meatballs. I watched tendrils of fire.. Olivia had put a movie on, on the television mounted over the fireplace, but it was the flames that drew my eye. I couldn't focus on the plot of the movie.
I'd thought the boys would be tense, with our meeting with the Council looming in the morning, but they were in fine form, teasing each other and bantering and telling old war stories.
Even when Ryker left the living room and came back with the Pie of Doom held above his head, Levi and Jacob broke out in cheers.
The Pie of Doom turned out to be caramel apple with a streusel topping.
Ryker knelt by the coffee table to cut the pie and parcel out slices to all of us. He passed the first piece to my mom. "Thanks for feeding us dinner, Ms. Landon."
"Thanks for taking care of my daughter," my mother said.
She meant that innocently, but I still saw Jacob duck his head slightly to hide the faint, dirty smile that made his lips curl up. I wished I could reach past Levi and smack him, but then my mom would notice.
Ryker joined me on the couch again, offering me a slice of pie before he threw his arm over my shoulders. I curled into his side, resting my feet in Levi's lap, and set to eating my pie. Levi left his plate sitting on the coffee table and absent-mindedly began to massage the balls of my feet. I felt the last of the tension of the day ease away.
"I'm going to bed." Olivia stood from the couch, pulling her fleece blanket around her shoulders. "Good night."
"I'm going too," Mom said. She carried her bowl into the kitchen and then returned, hesitating next to me for a second. We used to hug good night, before Ash died, but everything felt strange now; I couldn't fall back into the same habits I had before things broke between my mom and me.
"What are you going to say about Nimshi tomorrow?" My mom asked.
"I plan to tell the truth," Levi said. "He was our half-brother, we were skeptical about him but we wanted to give him a chance, and he died fighting an angel to save our lives."
"They're going to love that story," Ryker muttered.
"It's safer than lying," Levi said.
"I wonder what happened to Zuriel," Jacob said.
I looked across Levi at Jacob, who had spoken as nonchalantly as ever. But wondering about the fate of his crazy angel dad was not a nonchalant thought. Jacob had cut his hair earlier, and his dark curls were close-cropped instead of wild like usual. He looked different, cleaner-cut and preppier, but still unbearably handsome.
My mom suddenly leaned over me, distracting me from Jacob. I hugged her back, awkwardly, since my feet were in Levi's lap and Ryker's arm was around me. Ryker shifted away.
"Night." My mom smiled at us all brightly. I hoped I hadn't hurt her feelings as she turned and headed down the hall; she had taken to sleeping in Ash's room. It made me feel better to know that neither of them was alone.
"Good night," we all chorused.
Olivia, who had just carried a stack of our bowls into the kitchen, stopped at the base of the stairs and looked at us all.
"What?" Jacob asked.
"Nothing," she said. "Make sure you get some rest."
"What else would we do?" Jacob asked. "Just going to finish the movie."
Olivia shook her head faintly, as if she didn't want to think about what else we could do, and then headed upstairs.
"I don't know what happened to Zuriel," Ryker said. "But I'm sure we'll cross paths in the Far someday."
"I think he's gone." Jacob shrugged, as if that were just fine by him.
Ryker glanced over at Levi. Something was unsaid between them. Levi ran his thumbs down the soles of my feet, making them arch, and then gently pushed my feet off his lap. He stood. Ryker quickly kissed my cheek before he stood as well.
"I'm going to clean the kitchen," Ryker said.
"I'm going to help." Levi shook his head. "Your mom's a good cook, but she's as messy as you, Ellis."
"Sorry." I crinkled my nose at them.
"You guys are as subtle as a brick," Jacob told them.
Ryker shrugged, as if to acknowledge the truth of this, and then the two of them headed out of the living room for the kitchen.
I lay down across the couch, settling my head in Jacob's lap. He took my hand in his playfully, kissing my knuckles—which were cracked and blistered from training—and then resting my hand on his broad pecs.
"You're not even pretending to watch the movie," he chided me, since I was looking up at him. I gazed up at the strong jaw and chiseled cheekbones and those lips that were so often set in anger but were so sweet when they were pressed against mine.
"My attention span is not there today."
"Never is," he said. "It's going to be all right, Princess. The Council wants Nimshi, but they can't have him."
"I'm worried about him," I said. The Council couldn't get to him, but that was for the worst of reasons. When I imagined Nimshi meeting Samael again, being strung up like Samael had strung up Jacob, I wanted to cry. The only worse thought was the possibility that Nim had blinked out of existence when the Final blade tore through him, and that we could never bring him back. But I couldn’t believe that.
"Me too," he admitted. "I try not to think about it. Not when we can’t help yet."
"And about Zuriel?"
"That wanker can rot in Heaven's Hell, if they have one, for all I care."
"You sure do hold a grudge when someone stiffs you with the bill."
Jacob began to play with my hair, drawing his fingers through my curls, which tugged on my scalp and sparked desire in my body.
I let my eyes drift shut. "Zuriel was ready to kill Nim when he thought you were dead."
"He was always ready to kill Nim."
"You know what I mean. He was upset."
"And then he was ready to kill us himself."
"We don't know that."
"I'm pretty sure the angels didn't appear because he wanted to give his son a stern talking-to." His fingertips brushed against my scalp, massaging slow circles.
"I wish our families weren't so compli
cated."
He brushed his hand over my forehead, petting my hair back. "At least we have each other."
I smiled faintly. "Because that's so simple."
"I think it is." He leaned forward, sliding one arm under my shoulders. I opened up my eyes and slipped my arms around his broad shoulders, letting him pull me up and into his lap.
His lips met mine, and I felt his fingers tangle in my hair as he held my head still, his hand possessive and comforting all at once. I felt his hardness beneath me through my shorts, and I rested my hand on his clean-shaven, spicy-aftershave-scented cheek.
"How can you think about anything but surviving the Council tomorrow?" I asked softly.
"I have to," he said. "We've made our plans. We're going to be honest with them. And then whatever else comes our way, we'll figure it out."
"All we need's our wits," I echoed, since he had said that to me before.
"Everything else is just details," he affirmed. "So for now, we just have to get some rest. Worrying won't make tomorrow any easier."
"Maybe we should blow off some steam to distract ourselves."
He quirked an eyebrow at me. "That's what Ryker and Levi and I were doing in the dojo earlier."
I crinkled my nose at him. "I didn't mean like that."
"I know." He rested his hand on my thigh. Too high on my thigh to be accidental.
My back arched, just slightly, giving me away. "You need to stop doing that in public places."
"Did you think it’s ever an accident?"
"I think that whatever the Mythos says, you've all got a bit of the devil in you."
His lips parted in amusement. "Sorry."
"Doubtful."
"You're right. I'm not." He kissed my neck, and I leaned my head back, letting his lips sweep up the side of my neck to my ear. Each kiss sent a pulse of pleasure straight to my core. His hand delved between my thighs, over my shorts, and the sure movement of his strong fingers made me squirm on his lap.
"Do you want to talk about Zuriel?" It was my last-ditch effort to talk about what must be on his mind. Even though I was currently being driven half-wild with lust.
He gave me a perfectly deadpan look. "Was I giving off a vibe that I wanted to talk about my daddy issues right now?"
"Not exactly, no."
He looped his arm around my waist, sighing, and I leaned my head against his shoulder. We snuggled together, with our lust forgotten for a second. I had effectively killed the mood. Bringing up deranged angels will do that.
"I can still feel you," I said, shifting slightly on the rock-hard mass I could feel through his jeans.
"Despite your best efforts."
"Sorry."
"It's fine. You made it very clear in the past that, in lieu of therapy, you would be harassing me to talk about my feelings. This is just a particularly egregious example."
But even though he said that, he fell silent. His chin rested on top of my head, and those hard, tattooed arms were wrapped around me, and I felt safe and secure, at least for the night. I wished I could make him feel the same way.
"What's going on in that busy brain of yours, Princess?"
"I wondered how you really feel about Zuriel."
"You mean besides wanting him to rot in Heaven-Hell, if that's a thing?"
"I figured there was probably more than that."
Jacob shrugged slightly. "I don't want it to matter. I mean, I don't want him to matter to me. But it does create a certain amount of angst when your father tries to kill you."
"Yeah, I imagine."
He shook his head. "And then when I think about how my mother may have let demons rape her to save me. Christ. And then hid me in England because I reminded her..." He trailed off. "Like our story wasn't fucked-up enough, huh?"
“We don’t know that she hid you for any reason beside to protect you.” I pressed my palm to his jaw, hoping to comfort him even though I knew my words wouldn’t be enough. He rested his hand against mine, holding my palm against his face, and then turned to kiss my palm fondly. He wrapped my fingers in his, and our hands, knit-together, rested on my lap.
"But here's the thing. My father may not have loved me, my mother may have left me with guilt that I can never repay." His voice was low and bleak. "I may have been raised by people who despised me. But do you want to know how I feel now?"
"Desperately." I said it lightly, like I was exaggerating for comedic effect, but it was the truth.
"You repeat this to anyone, and I'll finally make good on all those threats and spank you." He said softly, turning his lips into my ear. His low, husky voice made me squirm with desire, imagining his hands on my body, but I knew that no matter how he stoked my lust, he also needed me to keep his secrets.
"Of course."
"Well, I'm going to do that anyway." His caressing hand rubbed across my hip, and then brushed over the curve of my ass slowly, almost reverently. "One of these days."
"Focus," I said.
"For a long time, I just wanted to have someone who loved me. Someone I could love. Not that I thought about it in quite that way. I thought maybe if I came to the states, if I found Wendy, my brothers, I would find what I was looking for. But then things weren't that simple. I had to get to know them..." He trailed off, shaking his head. "I tried to fight this life. Tried to fight the way I wanted you. As if I could start over somewhere else, free from demons and blades and magic, and it would suddenly be easy."
"But it's never easy," I said softly. Love, like magic, was hard work.
He kissed my forehead affectionately. "But here I am. I have you. I have my brothers. And we might be a fucked-up crew, but I'm happy."
He cocked his head to one side, as if he hadn't realized that before. Then he said, "Yeah. I want to rescue Nimshi and get to know my little brother, and I want to Final Blade the demons who hurt my mother. But even if life isn't perfect, I'm happy."
Those warm golden eyes met mine, and his lips slowly parted in a smile. It was the most magnetic smile I'd ever seen, Jacob grinning at me widely without the usual arrogance or guardedness.
I kissed him. I couldn't resist that smile.
He wrapped his arms around my waist, kissing me back hard. When our lips broke apart, he said, "Of course, you could indulge my kinky side and make me really happy."
"Tu impetibili," I told him, and he laughed, a rumbling laugh that I felt through our bodies so close together.
Ryker and Levi were talking softly back in the kitchen, and then I heard the clink of beer bottles and the sound of the doors opening onto the covered deck as they went outside. The door latched shut behind them.
His breath was soft against my hair. "This isn't public."
I ran my palm over his hair, which felt bristly now that it was cut so short. "I don't know. They subtly-as-a-brick left us here to talk about your feelings, you know."
He rolled his eyes. "You know what I think about that, Princess."
"That you'd rather not have any?" I asked archly.
He moved suddenly, playfully, wrapping his hands around my waist. He tossed me down on the couch, then pinning me there with his jaw propped on his hand, his elbow by my shoulder. I smiled as his fingers brushed across the naked skin just above my waistband, brushing my tank top out of the way.
"That my feelings are less interesting than fucking you."
I ran my hand over his hair again. "It's not really fucking though, is it?"
His golden eyes, intent on mine, widened slightly. Then he grinned, as if I'd caught him.
"No," he admitted. "It's not really. I can't get away from my feelings. Not when it comes to you."
As much as I was overheating with lust, I couldn't seem to shut up. I wondered if that drove Jacob crazy.
"Not that I mean to ruin the moment by being cheesy." I crinkled my nose at him.
He pulled my tank up an inch higher. He slid down the couch so he laid on his abs, his big arms folded beneath him, to kiss the band of skin he'd just r
evealed.
"It's nice," he said.
"It's funny to hear you, of all people, use the word nice."
He lifted his face briefly to raise an eyebrow at me, and then resumed kissing his way across my abs. That certainly felt nice. I rested my fingers in his hair, caressing his scalp as his lips seemed to trace every inch of my body.
His breath was a flutter across my skin when he whispered, "Nice is beginning to grow on me."
I took his broad shoulders in my hands and pulled him up toward me to kiss his lips. Warmth bloomed in my chest. Jacob hadn't believed in nice not that long ago, after everything he'd seen and experienced.
Jacob wrapped his arm tightly around my waist as our lips met. His mouth was hard, his lips narrow, but that didn't keep his kisses from being tender. He kissed my bottom lip, drawing it into his mouth. I felt my fingers tighten on his shoulders.
He pulled away, tugging my tank top over my head. I raised my arms so he could yank it away. His eyes wandered my body, the two of us soaked in moonlight that made our skin pale in the silver light, and for a second I could see us as if from a distance: the beautiful boy with the short, dark curls, his aristocratic face lit with affection, and the girl with the long dark hair and the tentative smile and her arms raised over her head. Then he leaned forward and kissed the curve of my breast, and I snapped back into the moment. There was nothing but the sensation of his hand pushing away my bra, his palm against my nipple. My back arched, and he kissed the base of my throat.
Then he rolled backwards off the couch. I caught the mischievous flash of a smile across his face, those golden eyes bright in the dim light. He pulled me with him. I gasped in surprise just before I fell off the couch too. He caught me against his body as he sprawled on the carpet.
I pinned his elbows to the ground with my hands, pushing back to straddle him. "That was rude.”
"Oh, you haven't seen anything yet," he teased. He stroked his hands over my back and down to my hips. His thumbs hooked under the waistband of my shorts and pushed them down. I rocked back and forth, my thighs against his hips, trying to help him get my shorts down.
I rose up on one knee, to pull my shorts off, but Jacob's hand wrapped around my ass cheek and squeezed tightly. I made a face of surprise, my mouth an O, and he grinned in response. I could feel each finger of his, warm and distinct against my skin. I gave up on my shorts and ground my hips down against his.