by BTKT
She glanced at Brody, who was staring out the window, a world away. Looking back at Jax, she said, “Why can’t Jenny be a Lumina?”
“She’s not qualified. They have to exhibit some characteristics of Heaven. It’s hard to explain, but you know it when you see it.”
“Maybe Brody sees something you don’t.”
Jax glanced in the rearview mirror and sighed. “Maybe. I’ll look into it, but don’t tell him.”
“He can hear you.” “No, he can’t. He has in earbuds.” They reached the Mephisto house and spent the rest of the afternoon eating cookies and watching The Sixth Sense with Mathilda and Hans, who laughed all the way through. Later, Sasha kicked Jax’s butt at Demon Slayer.
On Saturday, he took her skiing, and she was amazed at how much better she was than last time. “Must be Mephisto,” she said when they skied off the lift at Revelation Bowl, an area for more experienced skiers.
“I’m pretty sure it’s my expert lessons,” he said, skiing away from her.
She chased and was halfway down a black diamond before she realized she was on practically a vertical incline.
That night, Zee played the piano for her and she cried because it was so beautiful.
On Sunday, she got the grand tour of the mountain, the stables, Phoenix’s chopper shop, the gym in the old dairy, the tutoring rooms in the pink granite building, and, last, Jax took her to one of the Lumina cottages. A sweet, plump little lady named Tansy, who could be anybody’s grandma, lived there. The cottage was like something out of Disney, wee and quaint, painted outside in a soft robin’s egg blue, and the interior in butter yellow.
“It’s a lovely life here on the mountain,” Tansy said in a thick southern drawl, “but sometimes I hanker to visit Charleston, and
Denys takes me back. We go to Mirabelle’s and have shrimp and grits, then he takes me out to the ocean. Do you like the ocean?”
Sasha nodded. “I grew up in San Francisco and Oakland.”
“Pacific is nice, dear, but you can swim in the Atlantic. Maybe next time, you can go with us? I think you’d like shrimp and grits.”
“I’m sure I would.” She polished off another butter cookie. “What do you do here?”
“I’m like the Walmart greeter of the Mephisto Mountain. When we have a new Lumina or Purgatory, they stay with me for a while. I look after them until they feel at home. If you decide to come here and live with us, you’ll stay with me awhile. Would you like that?”
Sasha shot a look at Jax. Tansy was awesome, but if she was made to be apart from Jax, she wasn’t so sure she’d like that at all. “Let’s see how it goes,” Jax said smoothly. “Sasha’s just visiting right now.” “I hope you’ll stay. You’re very beautiful. Almost as beautiful as my sweet Reilly.” She turned her head and called out, “Angel, would you like to visit?”
Sasha stared when Reilly walked from the kitchen and smiled at her. “Hi, Sasha.”
“Hey, Reilly.”
The girl took a seat on the little chintz sofa next to Tansy. “I’m really sorry about what happened last week. I hope I didn’t freak you out too much.”
“It’s okay. I understand why you did it. Are you feeling . . .” Wow, not a good idea to ask a dead girl if she was feeling okay. “Is everything going okay for you here?”
“It’s getting better. I’m working on deciding what will be my job. I’ve narrowed it down to librarian and helping Key with his bookkeeping.”
“Do you like to read?”
Reilly nodded. “If I’m librarian, I can order whatever books I want for the library.”
“What’s the downside?” She wrinkled her nose. “I have to dust all the books.” They all laughed and visited a little longer before Sasha and
Jax left the cottage. That night, curled into him in her bed, she asked, “You like
it here, don’t you?” “Sometimes, I imagine I would like it if I wasn’t always so restless. Most of the time, the idyllic perfection the Luminas create only reminds me how one eighty it all is from who I am. Once, a long time ago, I went off and burned down a few of the cottages. Does that shock you?”
“No.”
“They weren’t mad, of course. They rebuilt and prayed for me while I served six months solitary on Kyanos.”
She wrapped her arms around him and they lay like that until they drifted to sleep.
By Monday, she was pretty sure she was going to need a sedative to get ready for Jax’s leaving. She thought more and more about staying with him and his brothers, becoming immortal and accepting Jax as her eternal mate, but something held her back. She’d accepted what they did, even saw the necessity of it. That they were sons of Hell seemed less important than the unique ability she had to redeem one of them and give him a chance of Heaven.
She was so over the moon about Jax, she couldn’t imagine ever feeling like this about anyone else.
She thought about her mom, and wondered and worried, but she’d had no more e-mails, no phone calls, nothing at all to let her know how she was. On the way to school, she asked Jax if she could see her mom if she stayed with him, and he said no, that she had to cut all ties to the outside world. That freaked her out a lot, but it still wasn’t the reason she hesitated.
School started, and she went through the motions, becoming more anxious as the day passed, aware that finals began tomorrow and Christmas was three days away. The Mephisto were close to finalizing the plans for the Skia takedown, and once they did that, they’d take Bruno and his lost souls, and they’d be done. Jax would go back to the mountain, and Lucifer would clear her memory of what he was and what he’d meant to her. She’d only remember him as a guy who went to school with her for a while. If she asked, Lucifer would also take away Anabo.
Later in the afternoon, Amanda stopped by her locker and asked if she was going to the game that night.
“I’ll be there. Do you want to sit with me?” “I’d like to, if it’s okay.” “Of course it’s okay.” “How is the family?”
“They’re fine,” she lied. She hadn’t talked to any of the Shrivers since last Thursday.
“I thought I’d hear from Brett, but he hasn’t called.”
“You should be glad.” She swung her backpack over her shoulder. “I’ll see you tonight, Amanda.” She realized as she walked away that Amanda was hinting to go home with her, which pissed her off. She didn’t want to hang with Sasha—she wanted an excuse to go to the Shrivers’ house so she could see Brett.
No one knew she wasn’t living there now, and she hoped they never would. After the holidays, she’d be in Russia and it wouldn’t matter, but for now, she didn’t want anyone asking where she was staying.
None of the Shrivers had called since she left, so she was surprised to find Chris waiting for her outside the school. It made her sick to see his shaded eyes, so she said hello and tried not to look directly at him.
Ironically, he asked, “Where are you staying?” “Does it matter?” “I’m here because Mom wants to know if I can stay with you, wherever it is.” “No, that’s not possible. There’s no extra room”—boy, was that a whopper of a lie—“and I’m a guest, so it’d be rude if I brought you home with me.”
“Are you staying with Erin or Rachel?”
“No.” She sighed and stared at the University of Colorado printed on his hoodie. “Melanie can’t kick you out, Chris. If she really does it, go to the cops.”
“I’d rather go with you.” “Pretty bad at the house, huh?” “It’s terrible. Dad’s funeral is tomorrow, in case you wanted to know.” She didn’t, and made no reply. He reached inside his hoodie pocket and withdrew an envelope. “The FedEx guy left this for you. Mom told me to use it for an excuse to see you.”
It was from her mother. She took it and kept her gaze on his hoodie.
About to turn away, he hesitated. “I wish I hadn’t believed him.”
“I know. Me, too.”
He shrugged. “But it’s not like God ever did anything for m
e. So Eryx doesn’t, either. Same lie, different name.” He walked away without saying good-bye.
She started to call after him, then didn’t. He was as lost to her as if he were dead.
Looking down at the envelope, she wondered why her mother would mail a letter, instead of e-mailing. She tore it open and inside was a passport and two plane tickets—one from Telluride to Denver, and the other from Denver to St. Petersburg, Russia.
Dear Sasha,
I’ve made arrangements for you to come to St. Petersburg for Christmas, then to stay here with me until it’s time for you to attend university. I’ve already enrolled you at school, and let an apartment in an old, beautiful building. Bring just one bag, and I will buy what you need when you arrive. I sold your father’s ring to a collector, and it has saved us, so I hope you’ll forgive me. I’ve also found a buyer for the painting who wants to give it as a Christmas gift, so I need you to FedEx it to me as soon as you receive this letter. I will see you soon.
Mom
It was a strange note, almost cold, and a million things chased through her mind, all at once. How did she get a passport, which looked real? How had she fixed it so Sasha could be in Russia? Mom didn’t know she had papers now. Why hadn’t she e-mailed, or called, to give her a heads-up? And most confusing of all, why had she agreed to sell the painting? What about Eryx? Had he given up trying to get it? Was he the one who wanted to buy it? The thought made her go cold.
“What’s that?” Jax asked, walking toward her.
She held it out to him and he took it, reading quickly. Then he looked up at her with the strangest expression on his face.
“She sold the painting.” “I guess she was desperate for money, Jax.” “Yeah. I guess.” “Will we mail the fake?” He nodded. “We can’t risk letting the original back into the real world, where Eryx might get his hands on it. I’ll get a Lumina to take the fake to FedEx as soon as we get home, and she’ll have it day after tomorrow.” He handed the tickets and the letter back to her and went around to the driver’s side of the car.
She got in and looked at him, noticing his jaw was clenched. “At least now I don’t have to make up a lie about the birth certificate.”
He didn’t speak. “Jax?” “Go find Brody so we can get out of here.” “Please, Jax, can’t you—” “Now, Sasha! Do it now!” If he wasn’t so upset, she’d tell him she didn’t appreciate getting yelled at, but he looked like he was either ready to have a seizure, or to start crying, so she got out of the car and went to find Brody, who was probably hanging out with Jenny in the photography room.
It was a strange note, almost cold, and a million things chased through her mind, all at once. How did she get a passport, which looked real? How had she fixed it so Sasha could be in Russia? Mom didn’t know she had papers now. Why hadn’t she e-mailed, or called, to give her a heads-up? And most confusing of all, why had she agreed to sell the painting? What about Eryx? Had he given up trying to get it? Was he the one who wanted to buy it? The thought made her go cold.
“What’s that?” Jax asked, walking toward her.
She held it out to him and he took it, reading quickly. Then he looked up at her with the strangest expression on his face.
“She sold the painting.” “I guess she was desperate for money, Jax.” “Yeah. I guess.” “Will we mail the fake?” He nodded. “We can’t risk letting the original back into
the real world, where Eryx might get his hands on it. I’ll get a Lumina to take the fake to FedEx as soon as we get home, and she’ll have it day after tomorrow.” He handed the tickets and the letter back to her and went around to the driver’s side of the car.
She got in and looked at him, noticing his jaw was clenched. “At least now I don’t have to make up a lie about the birth certificate.”
He didn’t speak. “Jax?” “Go find Brody so we can get out of here.” “Please, Jax, can’t you—” “Now, Sasha! Do it now!” If he wasn’t so upset, she’d tell him she didn’t appreciate getting yelled at, but he looked like he was either ready to have a seizure, or to start crying, so she got out of the car and went to find Brody, who was probably hanging out with Jenny in the photography room.
---
As soon as she was gone, Jax pulled his cell from his pocket and almost couldn’t dial, his hands were shaking so badly. When Key answered, he said, “Is the fake ready?”
“Andres finished Friday night and it’s been curing ever since. I’m planning to contact Eryx later tonight, tell him we located it, and ask what kind of favor he has in mind. Not that we believe a favor is actually on the table, or give a damn one way or the other. It’s only an excuse to appease him so none of his people will hassle Sasha. He should have the fake by tomorrow morning.”
“Give him the painting, or don’t. It doesn’t matter now.” “Why? What’s happened?” “He knows Sasha is Anabo.” The call was silent for a while before his brother asked,
“How?” Squeezing his eyes closed, fury overwhelmed him. “Katya sold her out.”
---
The ride home was tense and awful, no one saying a word. Jax was so stiff, she thought he might break right in two. Brody stared out the back window, and Sasha looked ahead at the road, which was difficult because it was snowing so hard. It had started in the higher elevations that morning and hadn’t let up all day, blowing into giant drifts against houses and fences.
She had no idea how he navigated through the mists. Coupled with the snow, it was zero visibility.
When they finally arrived at the house, Deacon was there to open her car door, holding a ginormous umbrella over her head while she walked to the front entrance. Inside, Mathilda was waiting, clucking at her, following her up the stairs and down the long winding corridors to her room. She had hot cocoa and a roaring fire waiting, and asked all about her day. Sasha answered automatically, not paying close attention, her mind on Jax and his over-the-top reaction to her mother’s letter. He’d known she would leave. She never wavered from it, so why was he so upset? Maybe because it was getting closer, and the tickets were a real reminder that their time was just about up.
“I always speak my mind, so ye’ll forgive me if I say it’s a tad strange how calm you are about leaving.”
Turning from the fire, she blinked at Mathilda.
“So you’ll do it, then. Leave Master Jax and the brothers, to go back to yer life.”
“I have to be with my mother. Surely you can understand that. You’ve been here over a century because your daughter was taken from you.”
“Drink yer cocoa, dearie.” She took her coat and hung it in the small closet, then went to smooth the bed that was already military straight. “I know he comes in at night and sleeps here with you. I also know he’s a gentleman. A child of Hell, with all that pull of the dark eating on him all the time, but he comes in here and looks after you without no touch like a man touches a woman.”
“How would you know?” “I’ve been looking after these lads a long, long time. I know when they’re needing, and Jax is strung tight as an archer’s bow.” She fussed some more with the bed. “But he’ll stay that way, because he knows to touch you would be to keep you here forever, and he wants you to stay because you love him.”
“I know.”
Mathilda went to stoke the fire. “Ye’re a child, yet, so you don’t know anything at all about love, or men. Not but what you see on the movies, and the television, which is all made-up stories.” She finally stopped her constant motion and took the chair on the other side of the fire, her long skirts rustling as she sat. “Drink that cocoa, Miss Sasha, so ye’ll warm right up. I’ll bring some fresh-made oatmeal cookies after a while.”
She sipped the cocoa to make Mathilda happy, but she wasn’t in the mood, and her stomach had begun to hurt.
“Have you seen the wee box he keeps, with his mother’s memory inside?”
Sasha nodded.
“He’s got another, just since yesterday. Last night, while you were in the TV
room watching your show, he went out and came back with a box like a heart. I’m a nosy woman, always was, so I went in there just a while ago and looked in that box.” Mathilda held out her hand, palm up. Sasha leaned over and saw a ring. A man’s ring. A familiar ring.
“Go on,” the housekeeper said, “pick it up, look at it, and you’ll see it’s just what you think. It’s your papa’s ring, isn’t it?”
Holding it between her fingers, she looked at the inscription inside, written in Russian, so worn it was hard to read any longer. My heart, My life ~A. It was given to the last tsar by his wife, Alexandra. Dad’s great-grandfather had been a Russian count who had escaped the revolution to live in exile in Paris, and took with him some of the tsar’s personal things for safekeeping, in hopes he’d return to Russia and give them back. Of course he didn’t, and as years passed, he sold the pieces, one by one, to make enough money to feed his family. His youngest surviving son left Paris and went to America, taking the last of the pieces with him, which he sold to buy land in Minnesota. He kept this ring, and gave it to his son, who gave it to his son, and now Sasha was holding it in her hand because her mother had sold it to a collector. Who was Jax.
Tears hanging from her lashes, she looked at Mathilda.
“He sent one of the Russian Luminas to buy it from her, and paid enough so she could get all that was needed for you to be with her.”
“How do you know, Mathilda?”
“I packed Boris’s bag, and he told me what he was about, going to Russia. He returned last night, and Jax went out to buy the box. He will give it to you when you leave, so you can keep the ring for your son.” Mathilda dabbed at her eyes with the corner of her apron. “He wants to love you, but he doesn’t know how, doesn’t think he’s capable, so he does these things to make you happy, in hopes you will love him. He knows you’ll leave, but he hopes . . . oh, he hopes.”