The Devil's Due (The Earthwalker Trilogy Book 2)

by Jennifer Siddoway

  Two of his frat brothers were trying to pull me off him in the midst of things, but I just swatted them off like flies. He snorted blood onto the counter and flailed, struggling to break free. “Dude! Get her off me!”

  One of them came at me again and I snarled at him until they jumped back in fear. “Whoa! What happened to your eyes?”

  “His name is Caleb!” I whispered furiously as I held him on the counter. “And he’s more of a man than you’ll ever be. Got it?”

  “Alright, alright! Caleb, I got it! What’s wrong with you?”

  I released him with one final shove and picked my bag up off the floor, getting ready to leave. “Don’t ever speak to me again,” I spat. “And for the record, the next time a girl tells you she’s not interested, listen to what she’s saying and do not grab her like an animal.”

  At this point, a small crowd had formed to see what the ruckus was, and I immediately regretted drawing their attention to me. Quickly, I rearranged the glamor on my face and arms to remain “human” for as long as possible.

  “Screw you! You’re lucky I don’t call the cops for assault!” he threatened briskly.

  I snorted at his premise and told him, “Right, because I’m sure there is no underage drinking taking place here,” I told him coolly. “And I’m sure you’d love to recount how a freshman girl managed to knock you down a peg. Maybe I should call them myself and let them know you were harassing me. How about instead of that, I just agree to forget all this and you leave me alone. Capiche?”

  Matt swallowed hard and massaged the tender area of his jaw, looking nervously from side to side. Scowling at him, I took my bag and left, joining Caleb near the entrance after he threaded his way across the room towards me.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  I was still trembling when I responded, still riding the high off the adrenaline, “Yeah. I almost lost it there for a minute. Can we get out of here?”

  “Sure.”

  He took me by the hand and almost immediately, I felt like something was off. His aura wasn’t quite right and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up as my demon sense was triggered. It didn’t seem like him at all, and I was confused as why he would have followed us. A knot started forming in my stomach as I let him take me away to the back of the house where we could talk in private.

  “Caleb, is everything—”

  His lips were on me before I could ask him anything, wrapping his arms around my waist. I was so surprised at first I didn’t know what to think, but when he pulled away I was breathless and chuckled softly, “Hey.”

  “Hello,” he replied with a mischievous smile.

  “What was that all about?” I teased him playfully. “How did you even know where to find me?”

  “Well, I had to get you out of there somehow,” he responded cheekily.

  I frowned. “Caleb, what’s going on? You’re acting weird—”

  Before I knew it, he was kissing me again, but this time it was different. He was uncharacteristically aggressive and pushy — nothing like the way he usually was. I stumbled back in surprise and knew something was definitely wrong. I tried to push him off, but he just held me tighter, using the weight of his body to push me flush against the wall and forced his tongue into my mouth. This set off alarm bells all over the place because Caleb would never ever force me to do anything that made me the least bit uncomfortable. This person, however, was being almost violent and trying to will me into submission.

  This wasn’t Caleb, I was sure of it.

  Once I realized it wasn’t him, I bit down hard onto his lip and he pulled away in shock. As he reached up to touch his mouth, I grabbed hold of the mask on top of his face and ripped it off. Without the fleshy illusion to conceal her, the demon standing in front of me was not who I expected. A stunningly beautiful woman in a skin-tight dress stared back at me with jet black hair hanging down across her eyes.

  He aura filtered back to purple smoke and she smiled at me wolfishly. She wore too much eye makeup and her lips were painted black, above her plunging neckline.

  “My, you are a pretty little thing, aren't you?” the woman commented. “I can see why Lucifer is so intrigued.”

  I spat into the grass disgusted and wiped the taste of her saliva from my lips. When I glanced up at her again, my eyes began to see past the human glamor to her true form underneath. Her ears elongated on the side of her face, with the numerous piercings along the cartilage. On her forehead, hidden eyes dotted along her temples like a giant spider.

  Now I remembered the woman’s true identity from when I saw her in the Grove of Ancients — she’d looked different then.

  The Black Widow, I thought to myself nervously.

  “I don’t know your name,” I told her honestly. “But I recognize you from the Grove, is this your human form?”

  “Asmodea,” she introduced herself shortly. “Aidan said you were clever, I can see now that he was right. Not many creatures would recognize me in the Mortal Realm. I'm assuming you know why I'm here?”

  I cleared my throat and swallowed hard before asking, “Is this another test?”

  “Not quite, it’s more of an informal greeting. I like to size up my opponent before meeting them in battle.” It was an insightful way of doing things, but I didn’t say anything. Instead, I scowled at her from across the grass. “You know, I don’t see much of Michele in you,” she commented briefly. “I keep expecting to see pieces of her now and then, but always come up disappointed.”

  I raised eyebrow curiously, never once letting down my guard and asked, “You knew my mother too?”

  “Of course — the raven-haired beauty that managed to seduce my brother. Lucifer is not easily unsaddled. A woman who can do that would be capable of great things. However, Lust is not Aidan’s sin, it’s mine,” she bragged.

  “You’re the Lady of Lust?”

  In retrospect, the association should have been obvious, her hyper-sexualized clothing and the way she carried herself throughout the crowd. She was like a peacock preening her feathers and putting herself on display for all to see, enjoying the way their eyes would linger.

  “Indeed,” she agreed with me. “But it’s not about that for him — it’s about control.”

  “Yeah, I’ve noticed.”

  “There have been a few times he’s forgotten himself. A woman distracted him, and he’s never made that mistake again. One guess who it was.”

  I sneered at her, feeling a begrudging sense of pride. “If you think my mother was impressive, then you clearly don’t know me. I was raised to be a fighter, and I will not go down easily.”

  Asmodea smiled, resting her hand on the curve of her waist and said, “Just because we haven’t found your true sin yet, doesn’t mean we won’t. It’s in there, we just have to dig a little deeper till we find it. I’ve been watching you, dear, and if you think that you’re untouchable then you’re woefully deceived. I’m the sin of Lust, remember? You have a boyfriend now, or did you think that escaped my notice?”

  An insidious fear crept into my heart when I realized she was right, tainting the very thing I was trying to protect. I never thought they’d be able to use him against me, but he was mortal now and that changed everything.

  “So that’s it? You’re going to poison my relationship and take that away from me as well?”

  Asmodea chuckled, looking back at me with cold, black eyes. “Would that I could, darling, but it doesn’t work like that. Caleb is not your typical man, he’s careful in his behavior and not prone to acting on impulse. You yourself are more of the same. Furthermore, you’re in love with him — that makes things more complicated. Once that happens, it isn’t Lust anymore — it’s Love. It’s not about using them for physical pleasure, it’s about giving yourself to them. It’s about making yourself vulnerable and open to rejection by offering them everything you have. At this point getting you to sleep together is null, there’s nothing to achieve. I’ll have to come at you sideways.”


  Could she be right? I wondered. Am I in love with him?

  “It’s probably for the best,” she mused. “I prefer it to be a challenge. I do look forward to playing with you, though. It’s been an age since I’ve could really stretch my legs! Just know, however, this is personal for me and once I’ve sunk my claws in there will be no escape for you.”

  With a puff of smoke, Asmodea left, and I was standing there like an idiot. Her presence at the party tonight made me see how I’d completely lost perspective. It was time to get serious.

  My shoulder ached where the mark was carved, so I sat down on a bench beneath the tree and thought about what to do. I was getting stronger by practicing with Jessica, but that was only physical. Without another demon training me, how would I learn to control my powers? I worried I was too susceptible to being won over by the dark side and didn’t trust myself. Still, I didn’t see there was another way — this could NOT happen again.

  Just then Lacey came out tripping over her own two feet with a smile on her face. “Wynn! There you are!”

  Her hair was messed up from dancing and hanging down across her shoulders. “Hey, are you going to be all right there?” I questioned with concern.

  “I had so much fun! We should do this every night!” she slurred happily.

  She reeked of alcohol, but was so darn cute I just put my arm around her and helped her over to the sidewalk. My sisterly affection kicked in, wanting to protect her and insisted, “Come on, let’s get you home. I’ve got some Tylenol in the medicine cabinet, it will help with the hangover in the morning.”

  She nodded while pulling out her phone and flipping through her contacts.

  “I’m gonna call Phil,” she announced suddenly.

  I quickly grabbed the phone away from her and cried out frantically, “NO! Friends do not let friends drunk dial.”

  Lacey groaned, reaching feebly for the electronic device, then vomited noisily on the ground. “Ugh, you’re no fun.”

  I sighed, pulling back her hair and supported her weight on my shoulder. “Someone’s gotta keep you from embarrassing yourself.”

  “Thanks, I just miss him a lot.”

  “I know but, Lacey, this isn’t like you. What’s going on?” I asked her, disappointed.

  She nodded in agreement and wrapped her arms around my shoulder as we hobbled down the road. “You’re right. Can we go home?”

  “Sure.”

  A few blocks later she cleared her throat and said, “Thank you for doing this. I found something out today I probably shouldn’t. But now that I know, I can’t pretend it didn’t happen.”

  I nodded, trying to be supportive. “Sure. What did you find out?”

  She groaned, swaying deeply into me as she tried to regain her balance. “Well, I have this friend who is getting her degree in social work. We thought it would be funny to do a broad search on our families, just to see if there was anything there. I didn’t expect to find anything, it was just being silly.”

  “Isn't that illegal?” I asked her in astonishment.

  She looked away guiltily and conceded, “Technically yes, but that doesn’t matter right now. Wynn, I got a hit!” she told me excitedly. “Twenty-two years ago, when my mom was still in high school, she put a child up for adoption.”

  “What?” My eyebrows raised in shock as I weighed that information in my head, clicking my tongue in thought. “She probably wanted what's best for them.”

  “Sure, whatever,” she continued, brushing that information aside. “I’ve always been the mother hen, taking care of my younger siblings and it was exhausting. I always wanted an older brother to talk to. Now that I know I have one, I did a little more digging and was able to find a name.”

  “A name? From where?”

  “From his birth certificate.”

  I groaned. "Oh, Lacey, you didn't.”

  “Yes, I did. I've always wanted an older brother, and now I have one. His names Antonio Martinez, he's twenty-three. I'm trying to find an address so I can contact him, but there haven’t been any hits on his social security number.”

  “Lacey, what are you doing? If it’s a closed adoption, then you’re banned from contacting him.”

  “Maybe Mom is, but I'm not,” Lacey responded with a grin. The words flowed out of her as she rambled on in a drunken slur.

  “LALALALALA!” I sang as I clamped my hands over my ears. “I'm sorry, Lacey. I love you, but I can’t listen to you while you incriminate yourself.”

  “Your dad's a lawyer, right? Do you think he'd be willing to help me out?”

  “No way! He works in Real Estate, not Family Law!”

  There was an uncomfortable silence as she walked along beside me, nearly tripping over her own feet. I knew she was heartbroken and confused, but I didn’t know what else to tell her. Carefully, I began to clear my throat and took a tentative step towards her, hoping what I was about to say wouldn’t make the situation worse. “Lacey, if anyone understands a mother’s lie, it’s me, but in this particular case she had her reasons.”

  “He’s my brother, Wynn,” she told me sadly as we stumbled down the sidewalk. “I want him in my life, I have to find him.”

  The way she spoke about him, I could sense the passion in her voice — the urgency she must be feeling. I remembered going through that myself when I was trying to find Nadia. If Ryan hadn’t been willing to drive me to New Orleans, I would have done something drastic too. For all the times Lacey had been there for me, this was my chance to return the favor — she needed me.

  “Okay then I’ll help you, but you need to prepare yourself for the worst, because I didn’t.”

  “I will,” she agreed with a sigh.

  “Let’s get you upstairs, I think you’ve been going pretty hard and should probably sleep it off.”

  She nodded drunkenly as I opened the door for her and wrapped my arm around her waist to support her weight against my hip. When we made it up the stairs, I found a large cardboard box sitting on our doorstep.

  What’s this?

  I checked the tag and saw it was a package from my father addressed to me. I couldn’t help but smile as I brought it, and her, inside. We made it to the room just in time for her to pass out on the bed and snore loudly enough that I could hear her across the hall.

  I sighed, setting the box down on my bed and opening it with a pocket knife. As I opened up the lid, all I found was a three-ring binder with a note from Dad.

  Wynn,

  This was all I could find on Garrett. I’m not sure if it will help,

  but there is a DVD with some home videos as well.

  XOXO,

  Dad

  DVD? The home video would have to be at least thirty years old, I thought to myself doing the math inside my head. He must have converted it from the VHS tape just for me. Thanks, Dad.

  Slowly, I picked the album out of the box and flipped it open to the first page. It wasn’t heavy or laden with pictures like the ones I’d seen before. On the inside cover was a picture of my uncle.

  He was handsome, with short, red hair gelled back into a mohawk. His ears were pierced as well, with wide gages so you could see through them. Mom always said I looked like him, though I couldn’t find a resemblance there myself. We both had red hair and pale skin that had been cursed with freckles, but that’s where the similarities ended. He was tall and had broad shoulders, where I was overwhelmingly average. He had dark brown eyes, and mine were fiercely green.

  There was, however, something oddly familiar about him. I’d never seen his likeness and yet I recognized it on a spiritual level. My mind didn’t recognize him, but my soul did. I chuckled nervously to myself and flipped to another page. I scanned through a couple of documents, mostly from when he was in foster care, though it was void of a high school diploma.

  That’s right, he got sick, I reminded myself sadly. Mom had got him out of the home he was in when they refused to get him treatment. That’s about when she got accepted to sc
hool in Paris. I wouldn’t have remembered that if the tickets had not been added, one for her and one for him. It got me choked up when I saw they were only booked one way. She knew he wouldn’t make it back ...

  I swallowed hard and turned the page to view a few more pictures of his past. Dad had been right, though, it wasn’t much. I chuckled when I came to the DVD and pulled it from the plastic case to put in my computer. After cueing up one of the videos, the link opened on my desktop. Over some starting static and the low-definition fuzziness, the 80’s fashion – I could hear Mom and Dad talking outside the frame; listening to them it sounded like they were teenagers. The screen panned left to where a skinny, red-headed boy was seated at the table, grinning indulgently. I recognized him from a few pictures I had seen and knew it was our uncle.

  I’d always heard about the family resemblance between the two of us, but now I saw exactly what they were talking about. “Do we have to do this, ‘Chele?”

  The moment I heard him speak, I felt my blood run cold — it was the same voice which had rescued me from being trapped inside the car. “Use the back door.”

  Mom’s voice brought me back to the video as the film kept on rolling. “Of course, we do! I never get to see you anymore. Come on, blow out the candles!”

  Garrett shook his head and laughed, placing his hands on the table as he leaned forward to follow her instruction. As he breathed out across the cake to put out the store-bought candles, my parents both cheered along him happily. “Yay! Happy Birthday!” Mom laughed off screen.

  There was no sign of his foster family, no celebration except the three of them. Still, the moment was as precious and memorable as any of mine had been. My red-headed uncle just shook his head smiling and tried to swat away the camera. “Come on, Michele. You know I hate those things, get the camera out of my face.”

  The video ended with him staring back at me from across the table in that foster home and tears of joy started streaming down my face as I realized it was him. He was the one who came for me that night when no one else did. Garrett was there for me even though we had no connection with each other. I recognized his voice immediately and felt an outpouring of love in his direction, knowing his presence had always been there, I just didn’t know it. That kind of connection was exactly what I’d been hoping for, that transcended life itself. He kept loving us and watching out for us even after he was gone.