by Julie Kenner
I swallowed, stayed perfectly still, and tried to gauge the distance between me and my stiletto, still forlorn in our unkempt yard.
He lifted his eyes to mine and I saw both rationality and regret. “I remember that one,” he said. “I don’t think I remember them all.”
“Jesus, Eric.”
“Yeah,” he said. “I could certainly use His help right about now.”
I managed a smile, though I wanted to cry. “Will I do?”
He looked at me, his eyes dark and unreadable. Then he turned and righted the chaise lounge that had been knocked over in the fight. He sat on it, the movement casual, but his expression far from it. “I’d give anything,” he finally said, “to keep you away from this.”
I flinched, even though I understood the sentiment. He wanted to protect me. To protect my memories of him. I got that. Understood it. And yet there’d been a time in our lives when we’d been everything to each other, and even the worst secrets had been shared.
Or at least I’d thought so.
Without a word, I sank into the chair next to him. “But I am here,” I said, “and I’m not going away.” I reached over to take his hand. “Let me help, Eric. Bring me in. Don’t push me back. Bring me in before it’s too late.”
He said nothing.
As for me, I pretty much wanted to scream. Instead, I relied on my toddler-wrangling skills, counted to ten, and tried a different tack altogether.
“Her,” I said, and saw his head tilt toward me with interest. “The demon said you weren’t supposed to tell her. That he didn’t want to invoke her wrath. Who? Who is she?”
“I don’t know,” he said, looking at me dead-on. “I swear.”
And the horrible, awful truth? I didn’t believe him.
The man I’d once trusted with my life. With my soul. With my body and my secrets.
My first love. My soul mate.
I didn’t trust him.
And I swear the pain of that realization pretty much ripped me to shreds.
I saw the flare of anger flash in his eyes and knew he’d seen my disloyalty. I cut my gaze away, ashamed. “I told you, Katie. I don’t know. I’m not in control here, or had that little fact escaped your attention?”
“You are,” I said, believing that with all my heart. What I didn’t know was how long he could keep control.
So far, I’d seen only small signs of the demon. Bursts of temper. Unnecessary risks.
I shivered, remembering how he’d almost killed a human recently. Granted, the man had attacked him, but Eric had lost control. He’d reined it in, but that didn’t change the fact that he’d gone wild in the first place.
That encounter had been my first clue, actually. My first glimpse of the blackness within.
“What have you learned?” I asked.
He climbed to his feet, then dusted off his pants. “Not enough.”
“Dammit, Eric, look at me.” I got up, too, shifting around so that I was right in front of him. “You promised me you had a plan. You didn’t need help figuring this out, remember? That’s what you said.”
“I said I didn’t want help,” he said, his voice like ice.
I flinched, but forced myself not to show it. To lose my emotions in objective practicality. “Then what’s the plan? What do we have to do to get you back? You. Free and clear.” I drew in a ragged breath and cursed myself for the tears that threatened. “Dammit, Eric, I need you. You have to know how much I still need you.”
“Oh, Kate.” He pulled me close and held me tight, his touch so familiar it made me want to cry. I clung to him, guilty that I still wanted him so badly, and yet absolutely certain I would feel equally guilty if I didn’t.
“It’ll be okay,” I said. “Forza managed twice, right?” I said, referring to the fact that, in his youth, the demon had been bound inside Eric. There, yes, but impotent.
At least, that’s what I’d been told. When Eric was a small child, Forza had locked the demon up, deep inside of him, where it had remained dormant until Eric had unwittingly set it free when he’d used Cardinal Fire to destroy a demon we’d been hunting deep within the catacombs under the city of Rome.
At the time, I hadn’t understood how we’d not only escaped from an army of demonic minions, but had also managed to destroy the High Demon who’d tortured and killed the other ten members of our team. A demon who’d been intent on becoming not only corporeal, but also invincible.
I’d been fifteen, Eric almost seventeen. And though neither of us knew it, what happened in the vault that night would color our lives forever.
Afterward, we’d been separated for debriefing. Father Corletti and our alimentatore Wilson had asked me the usual array of questions, and I’d assumed that Eric was in the boys’ dorm receiving the same careful going-over. As it turns out, it had been a little more complicated than that. Wilson had given Eric the Cardinal Fire as a weapon of last resort, and he’d broken about a thousand Forza rules when he’d done so.
The Cardinal Fire, I’d later learned, destroyed the demons in the chamber with us. But because the demon inside Eric was shielded, it wasn’t destroyed. Instead, the bindings were, making the demon free to move, to grow, to thrive.
So whereas my debriefing had been tape recorders and paperwork, Eric’s had been candles and ceremonies and a dozen priests chanting from ancient texts, calling upon the power of God to bind the demon once again.
It worked. The demon retreated.
But this time, not as deep.
This time, the demon waited, biding time for the opportunity to come forth. And opportunity had knocked when Eric had died when Allie was only nine, his soul and the demon’s essence thrust into the ether, still bound together. And it was the demon who had led them back to Earth to now reside in another man’s body.
While Eric tried to forge a new life, the demon inside grew ever stronger. So strong, in fact, that the binding rituals used twice before no longer worked. I still held out hope that we’d find some obscure procedure. Some heretical incantation. Something, anything, that would lock back inside the demon that I’d played a part in making stronger.
Because I had indeed played a part—a key part—in accelerating the demon’s attack on Eric. After all, I was the one who’d used the Lazarus Bones.
I wasn’t proud of the way I’d played God that night, but I couldn’t deny what I’d done. After only recently learning that Eric had returned in David’s body, I’d been faced with the horror of watching him die again, made worse because I’d played such a vivid role in his demise. Because I’d been the one who killed him.
I’d killed him because I had to. Because he’d begged me to. And I’d done it in order to prevent a demon from moving in and taking over his body.
Ironic, I thought, now that I knew there’d been another demon inside him all along.
I shivered, remembering that night. The way that bitch Nadia had believed she’d won. The way the blood had flowed out of Eric as death approached.
At the time, I’d only just gotten Eric back, and the thought that he was gone again had ripped me apart.
But I’d had the means—I’d had the Lazarus Bones—and so help me, I’d used them. I’d brought him back. Or, as Father Corletti would say, I’d provided the path for Eric to follow back to life.
And he had, guided for a second time back to corporeal life by that demon inside him.
And in returning to the body—in again using that demonic trick—he’d given the demon within a little bit more power.
Father Corletti had told me I didn’t cause a demon to be inside Eric, and I knew that was true. But there was no denying that I’d helped the demon gain strength.
That was something I’d have to live with forever.
As if sensing my need, Eric pushed me back and looked me in the eye. “It’s going to be okay,” he said.
“I want to believe that,” I said. “Even more, I want to help.”
“You do help,” he said. “Knowin
g you’re there. Knowing what I’m fighting for. That’s more help than you can know.”
I started to shake my head, to argue, to insist that I had to do more, but he brushed his finger against my lips and shook his head, silencing me. He reached up and twisted a stray strand of hair around his finger, then leaned in closer, the warmth of his breath teasing my lips until those lips actually touched mine. I gasped, and so help me, I opened my mouth to him.
He groaned, accepting the unspoken invitation and deepening the kiss.
I melted against him, my fingers knotting in the material of his shirt, every ounce of me desperate for what we’d once shared, longing for the time when we’d truly been partners and he wouldn’t shut me out.
Except . . .
I pushed gently away, peering into his eyes. Because I knew now that such a time had never really existed. Not to the extent I’d once believed. I’d opened my life and my heart to Eric—my partner, my lover, my best friend—and I’d assumed that he’d done the same.
He hadn’t.
He’d kept secrets from me. Secrets that—if I’d known—might have spared us the danger now lurking inside him.
I closed my eyes and bit my lip, wondering if, had I known, I would have had the strength not to use the Lazarus Bones. Would I have been able to stand there, with Allie looking on, and let her father die?
So help me, I didn’t know. And that made me wonder what I would do tomorrow or the next day or the next. What would I do when the demon finally burst free and I had to make the hardest choice of all?
“Katie,” he said, his voice cracking. He pressed his hands to my shoulders and his lips to my hair. I closed my eyes, taking some strength from him, but that was all I would take.
I told myself that was all I wanted to take. But that, of course, was a lie.
“Don’t push me away, Katie.”
“I’m not the one pushing,” I said. I turned in his arms. “We need to fight this thing, Eric. We need to fight it together.”
“Except we’re not together.”
I shook my head, not willing to let him go there again. “I love my husband, Eric, and nothing is going to change that. I love you, too. But we’re in a different place now, and you know it. So don’t try to lessen what’s between you and me by lashing out against Stuart.”
“Fine.” He nodded. “Fine. You help. And maybe we’ll figure it out before it’s too late.”
I angled a glance at him, hating myself for suspecting that he was lying, saying what I wanted to hear so that I’d shut up and go away. “Do you know . . . I mean, have you got any idea how long—”
“How much time I have? How long I can fight back the beast?” I winced from the harsh edge of his voice, but nodded. “I don’t know,” he said. “Probably not long.”
I drew in a breath, tried to digest that information. “You don’t patrol with Allie anymore,” I said. “Not without me.”
“You’ve been enforcing that rule for a while. What?” he added, apparently catching my surprised expression. “You think I hadn’t noticed?”
“Fair enough,” I said. “But she doesn’t go to your apartment, either.”
I braced, expecting a fight, but all I got was a simple nod, and that gesture of acquiescence scared me more than anything. Because it set out in sharp relief what we both already knew. The demon was coming closer. The battle was taking its toll. And he didn’t want his daughter anywhere near when and if the beast finally burst forth.
We stood silently, both of us acknowledging that unspoken truth, and as we did, I heard a car pull into the driveway, followed by the steady churn of the garage door mechanism kicking into gear.
“You should go,” I said, then exhaled in frustration as he crossed his arms over his chest and parked himself on a chair. “Dammit, Eric.”
“What? Are we through here? You don’t want to discuss strategy? A plan? Research venues?”
“You’re being an ass,” I said, but I didn’t have time to elaborate because Allie came barreling out of the kitchen and into the living room. She hit the brakes, skidding to a stop in front of the couch and turning toward the door, probably noticing the back porch light. That was all it took. Her high squeal of “Daddy!” rang through the house, and she jumped onto the couch, vaulted over the back, and threw open the door.
“Hey, baby,” he said, standing up and catching her as she launched herself at him.
“What are you doing here? It’s like the middle of the night.”
“It’s not like it at all,” I said. “It is the middle of the night.”
She rolled her eyes. “Mom.”
“I’m just saying.” I saw Stuart and Eddie in the living room, their heads swiveling in unison toward the back porch. A flash of something harsh crossed Stuart’s face, erased in an instant by a now-familiar political smile.
“David,” he said, nodding curtly as he stepped onto the patio. “Timmy asleep?” he asked me.
“At Laura’s. I was in her kitchen when we saw someone moving in the house,” I added. “Or thought we did.”
A muscle in Stuart’s jaw twitched as he turned to face Eric.
“I don’t need to break and enter,” Eric said, taking a step closer to me. “I’m welcome.”
Considering the level of testosterone flying around, I decided this was a good time to send Allie up to bed. “But it’s the weekend!” she protested.
“And a good thing, too. Considering how far in the toilet your grades are, you need the weekend to study.”
“But—”
“Go on,” Eric said. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
I could tell she wanted to argue, but one of the benefits of having her father dumped recently back into her life was that Allie tended to be on her best behavior around him. Which translated into a quick nod, a good-night kiss, and a hassle-free departure.
Stuart waited until she disappeared from view before rounding on Eric. “Did you come to patrol? To warn us about an imminent demonic threat? To avert the apocalypse?”
“I came to talk to Kate,” Eric said evenly.
“It’s after midnight,” Stuart said. “And last time I checked, Kate’s cell phone worked just fine.”
“I wanted to talk to her in person.”
Stuart took a deep breath, then nodded, as if he was thinking that one over. Honestly, I didn’t much like the look of whatever he was thinking, and when he took a step toward Eric, I casually placed myself between the two of them. “Let’s be clear,” Stuart said, moving in close and putting a possessive hand on my shoulder while he stared down Eric. “Kate’s my wife now. And this is my house. I’ll admit I was a little freaked out when I learned the truth about you—about all of it—but I came back. I came back,” he repeated, “and I swore I’d fight for her. For my family. So don’t think I didn’t mean it.”
“If it’s a fight you want,” Eric said, “I think we can work something out.”
“Eric—” I said, my voice low and my tone fierce.
But Stuart didn’t need my help. “Do not,” he said. “Do not come onto my property and play games with me. I respect that you love my wife. I get that you two have a history beyond anything I can imagine. Most of all, I understand that you lost your family and that you want time with your daughter. I understand it, I acknowledge it, and I even support it. But not like this. You do not show up at my house in the middle of the night to meet clandestinely with my wife. You don’t disrupt our household. And whatever personal problems you may have because you landed in some other guy’s body or because some badass demon wants to pull your chain, you deal with those somewhere else. Not here. Not in my home.”
He took another step closer to Eric. “Are we clear?”
I tensed, waiting for the explosion, but it didn’t come. Instead, Eric kept his eyes on Stuart, as if taking his measure, and for the first time finding Stuart adequate. He nodded, short and curt, before turning to face me. “Tomorrow,” he said. “We patrol.”
“Tomorrow,” I acknowledged, then watched as he moved through the dark to the side gate, Stuart clutching tight to my hand.
“I don’t want him in my house,” Stuart said after the gate swung shut.
“Inside,” I said, opening the back door and leading Stuart in before locking it and resetting the alarm.
“I mean it,” Stuart said. “He isn’t welcome here.”
I glanced automatically toward the stairs, but saw no evidence that Allie was snooping. “He’s the father to my daughter,” I said, keeping my voice low as I led him into the kitchen. “I’m not sleeping with him.”
Stuart winced, but had the grace to look chagrined. “You love him.”
I closed my eyes. That one, I couldn’t deny. And when I looked again at Stuart, I didn’t see anger or jealousy. All I saw was frustration, and that directed not at me, but at himself.
“Oh, God, Kate,” he said, sinking into one of the chairs around our battered Formica breakfast table. “I’m sorry. I trust you. Hell, I even pity you. Not exactly the typical interaction with the former husband we’ve got going here. But I gotta be honest. He terrifies me.”
“He’s not taking me from you,” I said.
“That’s not what I mean.” He pushed the chair beside him out with his toe, and I sat down, facing him, and knowing exactly where this was going. “There’s a demon inside him, remember? You’re the one who explained it to me. Or have you forgotten?”
“Of course I haven’t forgotten,” I snapped, though at the moment, I regretted my decision to be quite so forthcoming.
“He’s dangerous, Kate.”
“He won’t hurt me.”
“Maybe,” Stuart acknowledged. “And maybe not. But what about me? Or Timmy? And even if he doesn’t physically hurt Allie . . .” He trailed off, leaving me to draw my own conclusions.
“I’m working on it,” I said. “He’s working on it.”
Stuart looked at me, his eyes seeing more than I wanted. “Whatever you’re doing,” he said, “do it faster.”