by Jus Accardo
He shrugged. “Let’s not be dramatic. What we have is a mutually beneficial relationship.”
“I don’t understand. I’m the terms? My grandfather died before I was even born.”
“My apologies.” He rounded the desk and settled into his chair. “Nasty curse the Darker family had on them. Nasty indeed. The women always died in childbirth. That Wells witch was a vindictive one, wasn’t she?”
“So he came to you to stop it.”
Valefar nodded. “And of course, I agreed—for a price.”
“Me?”
“Your mother, actually.”
“My—”
“I agreed to lift the curse over your family in exchange for the service of Joseph’s child.”
I felt sick. “He wouldn’t do that.”
“You’re underestimating the love the fool had for his wife—but you’re correct. He didn’t want to do it. He agreed—but with a clause.”
“Clause?”
“Little known thing about Darker genetics—they only seem to produce sons.” He waved his hand in the air. “Annoying, but true. He thought he was being tricky. Joseph agreed to willingly hand over his child—only if it was a girl. He never expected it to happen.”
“If we only have boys, how did he just happen to have a girl?”
The demon winked. “Stick with me, baby. I’ve got tricks you couldn’t imagine.”
The office seemed to be getting smaller. “Okay, so obviously Mom doesn’t work for you.”
“Joseph had to hand the child over willingly. Of course when she was born, he refused.”
“And you couldn’t just take her.”
He snapped his fingers, frowning. “Doesn’t work that way. There are rules—even for someone like me.”
“What do I have to do with any of it?”
“I was furious when Joseph double-crossed me, but I’m the kind of demon that can see the bigger picture. I could have dunked him right then and there, but I chose to wait until I knew the next generation was on its way.”
“Dunk him? You mean he’s—”
Valefar frowned. “In the river? Of course. Come on, now, you don’t strike me as dim. Where else would someone who’s gone back on his deal be?” He stood and came around to the front of the desk. “The Darker line owed me an employee. You were kind enough to supply me with one.”
For the first time in a long while, I had nothing to say. Speechless. No point to argue, no opinion to express. Just nada. I wanted to play with the big kids. Make my own choices and finally step away from the kid’s table.
I’d gotten my wish. And although I had a feeling this was the most monumentally stupid thing I’d ever done, it would save Mom. And that was all that counted. I couldn’t go head to head with Meredith on my own. She’d metaphorically spanked me like a prison yard bitch the last time we tried. When the enemy could simply snap her fingers and incapacitate you, you needed to pull out the big guns.
Valefar shooed me to the door. “We’re done here.”
“What about my parents?”
“All in good time, little demon. All in good time. Right now, though, it’s past your bedtime.”
With a snap of his finger, the room shimmied and stretched, then disappeared altogether.
A second later, I was back in my own room, on my bed.
“Lukas?” I was off the mattress and down the hall in a flash, panic rising in my chest. “Lukas, are you here?”
He rounded the corner as I came to the top of the stairs. “What happened? I—”
“Valefar. He must have sent us back here.” I made my way down the rest of the steps. The lights were off, the only glow coming from the clock above the DVD player. Everything was exactly how we left it. Including the hour. According to the clock, only two minutes had passed since we’d gone to the Shadow Realm.
“How did it go?”
Giving him the gory details wouldn’t really help. “He’s going to help us.”
“And?”
I shrugged. “And now we have to wait for Meredith to call.” I sank into Mom’s chair. “I’m sure she’ll leave us hanging—but that’s a good thing.”
“A good thing?”
I opened Mom’s top drawer and pulled out a thick leather-clad book. Thumping it onto the desk, I tapped the cover. “It’ll give us some time to figure out what Simon and Valefar meant about saving you. They both said there was a chance, and that it was right under our noses. All we need to do is find out what it is.”
He sank into the chair across from me and peered over the stacks of paper. “And that’s going to help?”
“Simon’s brother Charles started this. From the dates, I’d bet it wasn’t long after you got re-trapped in the box and Simon was killed. It categorizes and lists every Otherworlder he ever crossed paths with.” I opened the book to a random page. “All the Darkers since have added to it. It’s like an Otherworlder encyclopedia.”
“You think something in there will tell us where to look?”
We were running on time fumes. In less than six hours, Lukas would be pulled back into the box, and I would lose him forever. This was my last chance to save him. “If there’s something out there that’s got the power to help you, it’ll be in here.”
…
I slammed the book closed with a heated snap. All night and we still had nothing. I wasn’t a pessimist by any definition, but I was seriously starting to doubt we’d find what we were looking for in time.
On the couch across the room, Lukas had his nose buried in a book. Every once in awhile, I’d glance over and catch him watching me with an odd smile on his face. He meant what he’d said about going back in the box. He didn’t want to—he’d miss me—but he was at peace with it. He felt he deserved it because of what he’d been planning to do to his father.
“We’ve only got a few hours left,” I said, voice low. If someone else had said it in a similar situation, I would’ve been tempted to slug them. Stating the obvious was a serious pet peeve. But I felt compelled to say something—and that was all I could come up with. I slammed my hand down on the desk and kicked at the chair.
Lukas stood and came to the edge of the desk. “Jessie, you did all you could.”
“I guess no matter how hard I tried, this was inevitable.”
“What was?”
“My family is cursed.”
“Not anymore. Didn’t you say Valefar lifted it?”
“That’s not what I mean. In love. We’re cursed in love.”
“Why would you say that?”
I shrugged. “Simon loved your mother. They had to die to be together. Grandpa lost Grandma not long after Mom was born—even with the deal he made. Mom fell in love with someone she could never really be with. And now—” I sucked in a breath, unable to continue.
His lip twitched.
I wouldn’t say it. The “L” word. The worst four letters strung together to make the most evil word in all history. The best thing about Lukas, though? I didn’t think I had to say it. He knew how I felt without all the stupid words and mushy, overdone sentiment.
“If it hadn’t been for the box, I would have never met you.” Leaning across the desk, he cupped the side of my face and smiled. “I know this is hard for you to understand, but being here, the time we’ve had together… Knowing that the perfect someone for me was out there—it makes it all worth it.”
“How can you even say that?”
I was leaning forward now, so our faces, our lips, were just a fraction of an inch apart.
“I would have been nothing more than dust and bones long before you came into the world—yet I wasn’t. I got to find you.” His lips brushed mine once and he pulled away. “I got to know you. How could I regret that?”
I couldn’t stomach the acceptance in his eyes, so I looked away. Scanning the room for something else to focus on, my gaze found yesterday’s mail. A bill from Citibank, an ad from the local food store—and peeking out from the bottom, something that lo
oked like a postcard.
Sliding the flyer and bill to the side, I picked up the small card. It was decorated with a scantily clad bimbo in a string bikini strolling across the sand. When I flipped it over, the bottom dropped from my stomach.
Sorry I didn’t give you a heads up before I left. I got called on a last minute job that turned into a vacation op. Neck deep in senoritas and margaritas–wish you were here.
-Love Paulson
The postmark said it was mailed two days ago from Cancun, Mexico. Two days ago, Lukas and I had been standing in Paulson’s living room—with Paulson.
“What’s wrong?” Lukas stood.
I wanted to say the postcard was a fake. How hard was it to forge someone’s handwriting? I did it all the time. Or maybe, Paulson had been on vacation and had the hotel he was staying at mail it for him. Maybe they’d forgotten and mailed it late.
But all that aside, Paulson would have mentioned being in Mexico when I’d seen him. He’d been trying for years to get Mom—and me—to go away with him. Strictly on a platonic level, he’d say to Mom, even though we all knew that was crap.
I handed Lukas the postcard. He skimmed it several times before setting it down. “You think it was Meredith?”
“Had to be. When we first met back at the school, she told me she could look like anyone she wanted.”
“But your friend seemed to know you. He mentioned something about the last time he saw you.”
“There are ways around that. Any third-rate psychic could give her that information. Or a demon.”
A demon.
Lukas didn’t get it. “But why would Meredith help us find the box?”
“Sonofabitch! They played me,” I whispered, falling back into the chair. My head was spinning like the Tilt-a-Whirl at the local fair. “I’m such an idiot!”
“I don’t understand.”
“I knew that summoning ritual had to be performed at Simon’s grave. I knew it. The things he used—the name and my blood?” If there was an award for biggest screw up ever, I was a prime candidate. “I walked right into it.”
“Walked right into what, Jessie? What are you saying?”
“It was a set up. He was the one she was talking about. The one who gave her the spell in 1882. Valefar’s been helping Meredith all along.”
Chapter Thirty-four
Three hours left…
I was still stewing over my own stupidity when the alarm went off. Meredith had called close to six a.m. and instructed me to meet her at eleven with Lukas, the box, and the other Sins. We’d fallen asleep on the couch going through Mom’s book again. And again.
I slipped out of the office and made my way upstairs. We had three hours ’til we needed to meet Meredith. She’d set up shop in the old Morgan House—a bed and breakfast on the edge of town that closed three years ago because of a fire. It was good luck. I knew the layout of the place fairly well. We’d gotten rid of a few ghosts from the fire over the years.
There was still a chance to make this all work. I had Greed, Gluttony, and Sloth plus Lukas—she had Lust, Pride, and Kendra, AKA Envy. There was still a chance to save Kendra and the last two people if we could put the Sins back into the box before the time ran out. And Lukas…well, I still had no idea what to do.
Digging into my closet, I started yanking out supplies. Obviously, the traditional stuff wouldn’t work in this case. Fairy dust, fire, binding spells—I had a feeling those things would only make Meredith giggle with a case of the tickles. But under all that power and insanity, witch or no witch, the bitch was still human. And humans, no matter how powerful, had their frailties.
I pulled out the gift Dad sent for my sixteenth birthday. Shiny and new—still in its antique case. Most girls my age would’ve gone for the potpourri or lavender incense to calm their nerves—but not me. The smell of new steel was comforting.
It smelled like home.
Once I was dressed and heavily armed, I pulled the last item from the closet. An old book of wards Kendra had given me a few Christmases ago. Meredith could work some pretty badass mojo. Anything I could do to negate even a little bit increased our chances. Sure, Valefar had agreed to help free my parents—no matter what game he was playing, he couldn’t go back on his word—but that still left the last three Sins and their innocent rides to deal with. And of course, the queen of crazy herself, Meredith. Something told me Valefar wasn’t going to do any extra work.
“It’s almost time to go,” Lukas said from the doorway.
Moving to my desk, I picked up the chalcedony crystal and stuffed it into my pocket, then pulled out a black Sharpie and opened the book. Tapping the page, I handed the marker to Lukas and pulled my shirt forward.
“You need to draw this on my back.”
He flushed a little, but didn’t question. There was a small pop as the cap came off, and the slight whisper of marker on skin. The cool felt point was an epic contrast to the fiery tips of his fingers as both glided across my back. Round and round, I could almost picture the intricate design taking form. He was an artist and I was his art.
After a few minutes, the tip of the marker lifted, leaving only the warmth of his fingers. They retraced the design, skimming feather light across my back from shoulder to shoulder. Up the back of my neck, then down my spine.
A shiver ran through me, and I tried to turn around, but Lukas stopped me. “Wait,” he whispered, voice sort of hoarse.
The tip of his finger went to work again, this time in specific patterns. Letters. The first one was easy. It started behind my right shoulder.
I
A few inches over, the next.
L
“For the first time,” he whispered. “I feel no regret.”
O
I closed my eyes to keep the tears from spilling. This wasn’t fair. I wanted more time with him.
V
E
“Lukas…” I didn’t want him to finish. It’d only make things harder.
Y
“Shh.”
O
U
I turned to face him. He knew how I felt about the “L” word, so he’d found a way to tell me without actually speaking it. “You’re going back in the box.” A stupid thing to say in the middle of my first, hot, semi-naked moment with a guy, but it was the elephant in the room. The big-with-bells-on, stupid, death row elephant.
“I know. But, I’ve accepted it. You need to do the same.”
I closed my eyes and leaned into him. “Kiss me.”
With a whisper-light touch, his lips brushed mine then pulled away. For a moment, I was sure that was it, that he was done and would leave, but a few seconds later, his warmth returned, and my world exploded.
He spun me around and lifted me onto the desk, hands everywhere all at once. I let my shirt fall to the floor, oddly uncaring that I was sitting up in my room, kissing the hottest guy in existence—also someone technically old enough to be an ancestor—in nothing more than my black sports bra and favorite monster mashing jeans.
Fingers skimmed my bare arms from shoulder to wrist, then back again before trailing up my neck to tangle in the long strands of my dark hair. These kisses were different than before. Greedy. Laced with anger and passion and need. The intensity of it all scared me a little, but more than that, it drove me higher than I ever thought possible.
I wrapped both legs around his waist in an attempt to pull us closer together. No space. I wanted nothing between us. Suddenly, my jeans, his clothing, it all felt too restricting. I made a move to tug at the edges of his T-shirt, but he stopped me, instead capturing my wrists in his hands and tucking them away behind my back.
“No,” he breathed, lips against mine. “Just be still.”
I obeyed, a sharp thrill shooting like electricity through my entire body. I expected him to do the honors himself, but instead, his hands circled my waist again, fingers digging into the skin. I gasped—not in pain, but surprise—and nipped at his bottom lip.
“Just be…” he inhaled sharply, fingers flexing as I trailed a line of kisses down to the hollow of his neck. “…still.”
“We could…” I managed. “I want to…”
Heart hammering to match my own, Lukas tensed in my arms.
A moment later, an unwelcomed chill blew through the room. The scorching heat and tingles faded all too fast, and I realized he’d moved away.
When I opened my eyes, he was gone. Out the door and already making his way down the stairs.
I started to follow, but a flash of white caught my eye. Something folded—a piece of paper on the edge of the desk.
Unfolding it, my breath caught. In astonishing detail, a sleeping version of me was captured on the paper. One arm tucked under the couch pillow, the other wrapped around a large book. Several strands of hair lay across my cheek while the rest blanketed my bare shoulder. Lips slightly parted as if mid-whisper. The girl looked so young. So innocent. There was something powerful on that page. So deep. Was this how Lukas saw me? This delicate thing that looked so fragile? So breakable? At the bottom of the page, scrawled in elegant cursive, it said, My Serenity.
The paper slipped from my hands and fluttered to the ground.
Chapter Thirty-five
One hour left…
Rene Morgan and her husband opened the Morgan house the year I was born. Up until the fire several years ago, it was one of Penance’s only tourist draws. Apparently, some big travel magazine had done a spread on them. Now the formerly beautiful three-story Victorian was a pale, hollow ghost of its glory days.
We were about to start up the walkway when Lukas doubled over.
“What is it?”
He sucked in a deep breath and glared at the house. Straightening, he said, “We have to hurry. Time is short. The box is preparing to call us back.” With a quick glance at my bag, he started forward again. I followed.
I raised my hand to knock, but thought twice. This wasn’t a social call. The lamiae hadn’t knocked when she’d sent them to snack on us.
Adjusting my backpack, I turned the knob. Unlocked. Not a shocker. I stepped through the door, Lukas on my heels. There were a few candles lit around the room—witches lived for candlelight for some reason. They cast odd, dancing shadows on the wall that seemed to follow us with each step we took. I took a breath through my mouth in hopes it would help with the stench. The air was thick with dust, and the place smelled like burnt plastic and mold. It made my eyes water.