He Loves Me, He Loves Me Hot

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He Loves Me, He Loves Me Hot Page 23

by Stephanie Rowe


  “No! You’ll get roped in just like the Markku.” God, he wanted to let her go, and help her go back, but they’d both be lost if they did. “Becca. Look at me.”

  She ceased her struggling and met his gaze, her green eyes searching his desperately. “They’ll use her, Nick.”

  “They’ll try, but she’s resourceful.”

  “She’s an apprentice.”

  “Who took down a busload of assassins from hell.”

  “She’s trying to save her soul.” She moaned softly and gave in, collapsing against him. He tightened his arms and held her, drawing on her grief and her worry. “I suck as a mother. I can’t keep anyone alive or even a virgin. Why do people keep coming into my life when it’s so not a safe place to be?”

  “You’re too hard on yourself. I’m still alive, right?”

  She buried her face in his shirt. “Only until Satan realizes you manipulated him for your own gain.”

  “He’s not going to kill me. I won’t let him.”

  She lifted her face and looked at him. “You’re either arrogant or stupid.”

  “Or I’m right.”

  She sighed, and he felt her latch on to his confidence, needing to believe that there was hope. “So, how do we get back there without losing ourselves?” She pulled herself back from him and took a deep breath. “Sex twenty minutes before we went wasn’t enough to fight off her power.”

  He sighed. “I don’t know. Have sex while we’re there?”

  “If that’s the best we can come up with, we’re screwed.” She sighed. “I have to find a way to save Paige. I have to.” She walked into her kitchen and pulled open the fridge, resting her head against the freezer door for a moment before reaching inside.

  “We’ll find a way.” He walked in behind her, surprised at the homey kitchen with its peach-colored cabinets, floaty curtains, and tiled floor. It was soft and girly, nothing like the image Becca tried to project, which he was beginning to suspect had absolutely nothing to do with who she was inside. He sat down at the table as Becca set a bottle of water in front of him. “How are the Terrors?”

  “Having a party.” She sat across from him and took a drink of water. “Water helps me resist Satan’s orders. He and water just don’t get along, you know?” She pressed the bottle to her forehead. “I don’t have time to take any orders from him right now.” She looked at Nick. “We could go back at night, while the Penhas are sleeping. We were all okay until Rosemarie focused on us specifically.”

  Nick nodded as he twirled the bottle in his fingers. “If I can get the Markku out from under Rosemarie’s influence, they can subdue the Penhas. I seemed to have some sort of link to them.”

  She studied him. “And why is that, exactly?”

  He looked at her. “I was wondering the same thing myself. Maybe we should get an answer?”

  Twenty-two

  Nick noticed that Becca’s fade was slower this time, and the reformation in Dani’s condo took more effort than it should have. He reached out to her before he let go and felt the hum of the Terrors back in her body already, along with the pressure of the void from Dani’s room. Shit. They were running out of time for her. “Come here.”

  She looked at him for a moment, then sighed and walked into his arms. He felt her reach out for him, and he met her, wrapping his soul around hers. It wasn’t as intimate as it had been while they making love, but she was definitely letting down her barriers. “You’re getting better at letting me in.”

  “Don’t tell anyone,” she grumbled as she snuggled into his body. “I have an image to protect.”

  “Not a word.” He closed his eyes and they stood there, holding each other, and he felt the warmth of her energy much closer to the surface. Her worry. Her desperation. Her fears. He moved his lips toward her ear and whispered. “What are your Terrors?”

  She pressed her face against the bare skin of his neck. “Of being alone and empty. Of having no one care if I die. Of never loving someone, and then, if I do, of killing them. These images keep flashing in front of me, getting stronger and stronger as the Terrors get more powerful.” She paused. “What were yours, before I took them out?”

  He thought back to the Terrors that had nipped at his soul before Becca had extracted them. “Of not fulfilling my legacy.” Not that he understood that one. Or maybe he did. Ever since he felt the Markku at Rosemarie’s camp, he’d felt different. Like he knew what his role was. “Of…” he hesitated.

  “Of what?”

  “I saw you die.” He could still feel that anguish he’d felt when he’d had that vision of Becca dying in his arms while he was in the Chamber. He tightened his grip on her and concentrated on merging with her life force to support her, and to comfort himself that she was still alive and still with him.

  She lifted her head to look at him. “Why me? Why not Dani?”

  He shrugged, and brushed her hair off her forehead. “Those were the Terrors the Chamber selected for me. I don’t know why. Maybe Jerome already had dibs on the Terror of Dani dying.”

  “You think?”

  He looked down at her, into her green eyes. “I don’t know.” And then, because he couldn’t stop himself, he kissed her. The swell of emotion between them was instant, and he reveled in the connection between them as she reached for him with her body and her soul and everything that made her alive. He deepened the kiss and slipped his hands down to her butt to pull her against him, needing to get closer. Needing more. Needing her.

  “Nick?”

  They broke the kiss and turned their heads to see Yasmine standing the doorway to the living room, looking concerned. He felt Becca start to pull away, so he tightened his grip against her, until she relaxed back into him with a sigh of resigned contentment. “Hey, Ma. How’s Dani?”

  “Well, since Jerome got here, the bubble seems to have gotten a little less black. I really wanted to cut off his head with my chainsaw, but I think he actually cares about her.” Yasmine eyed them both. “What’s going on?”

  “We lost Paige,” Becca said, resting her head on Nick’s chest, her arms tight around his waist. “We need to go retrieve her.”

  Nick tucked Becca into the curve of his body. “We found Junior’s ma. She’s leading a team of Penhas and appears to have some hold over the Markku.” He didn’t miss the flicker of alarm on his ma’s face. “Oddly enough, I was able to order one Markku out from under her spell for a moment, and he called me his leader, said they were waiting for to rescue them. What do you make of that?”

  Yasmine paled. “I have no idea.”

  He rubbed his jaw on Becca’s head, warm and content with her soul snuggled against his. It made him feel calm. In control. Even though something told him his world was about to come crashing down, she gave him control. “Apparently, there are tons of Markku around. Was there a particular reason you and pa repeatedly told me that the Markku were extinct? That my life would be in danger if anyone ever found out I was Markku?”

  “Nick—”

  “No lies, Ma. I want the truth.”

  She glanced at Becca, then looked back at Nick.

  “I’m going in there after the Markku,” Nick said. “Anything you can tell me to help make sure I don’t get killed would be nice,” he said dryly.

  “No. Don’t go after them. They aren’t your responsibility.”

  He studied her, aware that she’d used the exact words that he’d used himself to describe how he felt about the Markku. “Oh, but I feel quite certain they are. What’s up, Ma?”

  She hesitated, then sighed heavily and sat down on the couch, dropping her head between her hands. When she looked up, she looked old for the first time Nick could remember. “Walk away, Nicky. For me?”

  He just looked at her, drawing on Becca’s calmness to keep his emotions under control. “No more secrets.”

  Yasmine pressed her lips together, then finally nodded. “As you know, your great-granddad was the leader of the Markku rebellion when they broke out of h
ell and he died protecting his people. But what you don’t know is that it wasn’t simply that he led the rebellion. He was their true leader, a role one can only be born into. Your pa inherited that position, and he was unable to deny it. He died trying to protect the Markku, and he didn’t want the burden. He and I decided we would never tell you the truth about who you are, and to hide you from other Markku so you would never have to give your life for something you didn’t care about.”

  He closed his eyes as a feeling of absolute rightness settled over him. I am their leader. Now he understood the restlessness that had crawled under his skin his whole life. His need for more, a need that no job for Jerome had been able to lessen.

  “You have a purpose,” Becca whispered.

  He opened his eyes and looked at her and smiled. “Yeah, I do. Got a couple, actually.”

  She narrowed her gaze at him, and he looked at his watch, not quite ready to go into detail. “It’s only seven o’clock. I think we should wait until after midnight to go back. Give Rosemarie time to go to sleep.”

  She gave him a look that made his groin tighten. “So, what do we do from now until then?”

  Before Nick could suggest they do a little work to get rid of the Terrors, the condo vibrated, gold bubbles exploded from the wall, and Satan leaped into the room, wearing a hand-tailored custom suit of Italian descent. His hair was slicked back, he was freshly shaven, and his wingtips were so shiny they looked like they were actually mirrors.

  Satan’s eyes were glowing, and he was not the same leader of hell they’d last seen curled up Iris’s chair in tears. Either Satan had recovered from a broken heart in record time, or he was trying to delude himself.

  Nick reached out and caught a faint hint of misery, and he knew what the answer was.

  Like it should be a surprise that Satan overcompensated about something.

  “Rivka!” Satan danced across the room and grabbed Becca’s hand, which was all he could reach since she was still entwined around Nick. “I have answer! I have solution! Is that not wonderful news! You do not have to depend on elf to stay sane and alive! Most excellent news, no?”

  Becca tensed against Nick, and hope cascaded off her body. “What is it?”

  “Is quite simple!” He beamed at them. “Since my man-friend has proper energy assimilation to help you fight off Terrors, we connect you to his life force long enough for you to cleanse them, and then you come back to me. Is good plan, no?”

  “No!”

  Satan spun around in surprise as Yasmine leapt to her feet. “Who are you, little mortal woman of perky breasts?”

  “Nick can’t support a Rivka. They will both die.”

  Satan frowned. “I do not like people who contradict me. My reputation is dicey already, despite my last three hours of harvesting all the souls I previously released, in a heartless and cruel fashion which they deserve. See? Even you challenge me. I punish you for it, no?”

  “Satan,” Becca interjected. “Don’t.”

  He spun his head toward her. “Why not?”

  “Because she’s a healer. I need her to show me how to break free of the Terrors once I have the light in my body.”

  “You do?” Satan looked at Yasmine, who didn’t look at all afraid. “Substantial disappointment for me. I suppose you shall live, but do not tell anyone that I permitted you to challenge me, or I shall cut out your tongue and hang it above my office door. Yes?”

  Yasmine’s eyes flickered with darkness. “Nick can’t support her.”

  “Yes, he can. My researchers say he can, and they are always correct, because if they are wrong, they die painful death.” He turned back to Becca. “You shall repeat the process you did before, and this time I support you and we hook your life line to my man friend. Then, you heal yourself. Then we bring you back to me. Most excellent plan, no?”

  Becca stared at him, too many thoughts whirring through her mind. Hope for herself, fear for Nick’s life, fear that she would never be able to go back to Satan after being free of him, fear of what Satan would do to Nick if Satan realized she didn’t want to go back. She glanced at Nick, who was looking thoughtful. How could she get that close to him and then let it go? She had to.

  Nick looked at her. “Let’s do it. A brief connection won’t risk my life, I’m sure.” He touched her cheek. “It will buy us time.”

  “Yeah, until tomorrow night when Dani’s time is up.”

  Nick’s grip tightened. “I’m not giving up—”

  “Nick. A word with you,” Yasmine interrupted. “Now.”

  He frowned at her tone. “What now?”

  She eyed Satan and shook her head.

  “He can’t do it,” Jerome said from the doorway. “The Council experimented on Markku, using them to support Rivkas. The Markku died after a week, and so did the Rivka, even after they restored the Rivka to Satan. Nick can’t do it.”

  Satan was studying Jerome carefully. “You are Council, no?”

  Jerome looked at him. “Yes.”

  “You were part of the Rivka experiments?”

  Jerome looked surprised. “You know about them?”

  “Satan knows all. I have most excellent spy network. I was most curious to see whether Rivka could break free of me, so I watched experiments with much interest. I was quite pleased with results. Where do you think the Council got all their Rivka subjects?”

  Becca stared at him, and Nick felt her sense of betrayal. “You offered up your Rivkas to be killed?”

  Satan spun to her. “Only the inferior ones, of course.” He brightened. “Oh, most excellent reminder. Let us try this with your apprentice first to see if she lives. Then if she does, we will know if it works. Where is she? I love expendable Rivkas.” He turned around, searching the room. “She is here, no?”

  “She’s on a mission,” Becca said. “Not here.”

  “Retrieve her. What could be more important than sacrificing herself?’

  Becca ground her teeth, offering up the only excuse she knew Satan would accept. “She’s losing her virginity.” Please let that be a lie.

  Satan’s eyes widened. “Oh. Most sacred time. We must not disturb her.” He reached out and set his hand on Becca’s arm, then frowned. “The Terrors are strong. How are you not screaming yet?”

  She shrugged. “I’m stubborn.”

  “Stubborn and soon to die,” Satan said. “Come, we must do it now. Man-friend, prepare yourself. We do the switch now.”

  “No!” Yasmine jumped between them. “I won’t let you. Nick, Pa believed his destiny as the descendent of the leader of the Markku was to protect all Markku, and he felt that the Rivkas fell under that cloak of protection, since they were the next round of Markku. So he volunteered for the Council’s experiments, hoping he could help get the Rivkas out of hell.” She lifted her chin. “The Rivka drained him dry, and he died within a week.”

  Nick stared at his ma in stunned disbelief. “But he said he was poisoned by the Council. That they arranged for him to die because he was a Markku. That’s why he made me promise never to tell anyone I was Markku.” Becca burrowed against him, and he tightened his grip on her, reaching out for her, for her honesty and integrity. He felt her respond to him, welcoming him, and he clung to it greedily, needing her.

  “He didn’t want you to have the burdens of being Markku,” Yasmine said. “He felt he had no choice but to stand up and protect his people, and he wanted you to be free of that. So he cut you off from your people, and I agreed.” Her voice grew hard. “I won’t let you make the same choice your father made. If you volunteer, you and Becca would both die. I won’t lose my son as well as my husband.”

  “You are descendent of Treat Fontaine?” Satan asked slowly, his eyes gleaming with interest. “Of Hale Fontaine?”

  Nick drew himself up, not liking the calculating look in Satan’s gaze, not quite able to dismiss the years of dire warnings from his ma and pa about what Satan would do to him if he found him, the descendent of the man who br
oke the Markku out of hell. “Hale was my pa. Treat was my great-grandpa. They were good men.”

  “Ah.” Satan did a slow walk around Nick, assessing, while the tension in the room thickened. Nick felt Becca’s heart racing against his, but her gaze was steely and calm, and he drew on that control as well.

  Satan laid a manicured hand on Nick’s shoulder, then his mouth curved into a delighted smile that revealed gorgeous white teeth. “You still have my life force inside you. Interesting. That must be why my researchers knew you could support my Rivka.”

  “I have my own life force,” Nick said.

  “Don’t touch him,” Yasmine said. “Or I will kill you.”

  “Kill me? Hah. You cannot kill the leader of hell. You made me laugh with great mirth. I respect good bluff. You amuse me.”

  Yasmine spun on her heels and marched out of the room.

  Satan turned his back on her and faced Nick and Becca. “I am most interested in you, Fontaine offspring. I think my Rivka will learn much having you be her life force. I have grand ideas for your future, so try not to die, but if you must, I see you in hell, I am sure.” He leaned in, sniffing Nick. “You do not smell Markku. Must be healer blood why I did not recognize you. Most interesting disguise. Hale Fontaine is smart man, mating with healer to keep offspring hidden.” He stepped back and clapped his hands. “Rivka, let us begin. You have only about twenty minutes until you die from Terrors, so we must start.”

  “Wrong choice.” Yasmine stepped into the room, cradling something in her arms that Nick couldn’t see clearly. There was some sort of cloth draped over it. “My daughter and my son will not die for you.”

  Satan sighed and turned to face her. “You are much annoying. What daughter?”

  “She’s in your death blister.”

  “Oh, is that your daughter? Is she here?” He lifted his head and sniffed. “She is! I wish to see this blister. How very excellent!” He turned to head down the hall toward the bubble, and then Yasmine whipped the cloth off and settled what looked like a modified machine gun on her shoulder.

 

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