Deal With the Devil

by Evangeline Anderson

  “The third bite—the bonding bite.” Diego gave me a look of mingled frustration and disgust. “That’s how a vamp binds you to him. Only with an incubus, it’s a bond that can never be broken except by death. Don’t you get it, Luz? You exchange blood with him again, he’ll own you until you die.”

  “Wait a minute!” I protested, as Diego started to drag me down the steps. “Just wait a minute, goddammit, and let me think!”

  At last he was really getting through to me. I remembered how adamant Jude had been about wanting to exchange blood with me again at least one more time. I had asked if three was the magic number and he’d given me some vague reply and changed the subject. Had he been hiding something from me? It seemed likely, especially when I added that to the fact that his eyes turned red when he was aroused or angry, and he could read my mind—maybe more than he’d originally let on. Plus, hadn’t Rosie said something about Jude and I being bonded? Maybe she’d assumed the third bite had happened last night since I’d given Jude my virginity.

  Could it be that Diego was right?

  No, I can’t believe it. It can’t be true. Jude wouldn’t hide something like this from me. He loves me and I love him. But my faith in him was definitely shaken. So much so that I allowed my brother to pull me several more feet down the sidewalk without any resistance at all.

  “I just…can’t believe it,” I said, but my voice lacked conviction. “Jude isn’t like that. He’s gentle and kind and patient…”

  “Sure he is—until you exchange blood for the last time. What do you think, Luz—that he’s gonna tell you the truth and scare you off before he gets you for good? This is one seriously scary motherfucker we’re talking about. Why do you think the other vampires don’t want anything to do with him?”

  “He…he told me he had a disability that made them not like him.” Even to my ears it sounded weak.

  “A disability, huh? That’s what he calls feeding off your worst thoughts and feelings and controlling the minds of everybody around him?”

  “I don’t know, okay?” I glared at Diego. “I don’t know but I’m sure that Jude can explain all this when he wakes up.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure he can too only you’re not gonna be around to hear his damn explanation.” Diego started pulling me to his car, which he’d parked in the large semicircular driveway that skirted the front lawn.

  “Stop! I can’t just take your word for it—I have to at least give him a chance to explain.” But my brother kept pulling me inexorably toward his car. “Diego, I love him—really and truly love him. I’ve never been able to say that before about a man, can you understand that?”

  He must have heard the pleading in my voice because he stopped dragging me and just stood there. “Luz,” he said at last. “Okay, I’m not saying never talk to him again and I’m not saying don’t give him a chance to explain. But let him explain over the phone or something. You have to get away from his territory—away from his influence. So you can listen with a clear head.”

  “I don’t know…” To say I didn’t want to leave was an understatement. But I was also no longer completely certain that I knew the real Jude, either.

  “Come on, Sis—you know what I’m saying makes sense.”

  “I should at least go back and tell Rosie where I’m going.”

  “Who the hell is Rosie?”

  “She’s Jude’s maid—and she’s a were, too. She trusts him,” I pointed out.

  “Probably because he’s got total control of her mind by now. Why else would a were work for a vamp?” Diego demanded.

  At last I gave in. “Fine. But I’m calling him as soon as it gets dark. And you’ll see—he’ll have some kind of rational explanation for all this…this nonsense.”

  Diego put up his hands. “Hey, it’s not like I don’t want you to find love. Even being with a vampire is probably better than being alone all your life.”

  “How nice of you to make that concession,” I said dryly.

  “I’m just saying—maybe they’re not as bad as we were always taught growing up.”

  Diego’s sudden sympathy for the fanged set surprised me so much I actually allowed him to lead me to the car without a backward glance at Jude’s house. “Would this new tolerance for the sunlight challenged happen to do with Gavin, the vamp who bit you?” I asked, as I slid into the passenger seat of his tricked-out low-rider.

  “Yeah, well…he’s a decent guy.” My brother blushed again and I stared at him in growing comprehension.

  “You enjoyed it, didn’t you? Don’t try to pretend you didn’t,” I said, when he started to protest. “I know what it feels like to get bitten. It’s not the horrible, painful experience you think it’s going to be at all. It actually feels good—admit it.”

  “It…wasn’t so bad,” he mumbled, keeping his eyes forward and concentrating fiercely on his driving.

  I was beginning to wonder about my little brother. “Diego,” I said quietly. “Is there something you want to tell me?”

  “About what?” He looked at me uncertainly.

  “About how it felt to let Gavin bite you. About how you’re the biggest, baddest alpha around but you never seem to have a girlfriend.”

  “I’m not a fucking mariposa, if that’s what you’re asking. I mean, like I would turn gay for a bloodsucker? Please.”

  “I think you’re protesting a little too much,” I said, making sure my seat belt was securely fastened as he blew through a stoplight. “You can tell me, Diego. You know I won’t judge you and I won’t tell the rest of the family either.”

  “I said I’m not gay so just drop it, okay? So what if I let him…I mean if it felt good when he bit me? It’s no big deal.”

  “Okay, we’ll drop it. But maybe you can see where I’m coming from now,” I said.

  “Yeah, I could—if Jacobson was a normal vamp.” He shook his head and took a corner way too fast, making me glad I’d buckled up. “But he’s not, Luz, and you’re in danger every minute you’re with him.”

  “I still can’t believe that,” I said, but my stomach was rolling with uncertainty, making me regret the eggs and bacon I’d shoveled down.

  “I know you don’t want to.” Diego put his hand on mine and squeezed briefly. “I’m sorry, Sis.”

  “Me too,” I said and suddenly I was seeing the golden August afternoon through a haze of tears. Oh God, what if Diego was right? What was I going to do?

  Chapter Twelve

  “Luz, where are you? Rosie said you left without any explanation. Are you all right?” Jude’s deep voice was extremely worried and I felt a warm rush of love for him all over again. He cares. He loves me. But I had to push the warm fuzzies aside and get to the bottom of this mess before I let myself get too carried away. So I took a deep breath and got right to it.

  “Jude, are you an incubus?”

  I was hoping for an incredulous laugh or an instant denial. What I got instead was a long, long silence. Then he said, “I’d better come talk to you. Are you at your apartment?”

  “Yes, but I really don’t think—” But I was talking to a dead phone. He’d already hung up.

  “Well?” Diego, who had refused to leave me alone, glared at me from his spot on my couch.

  I shrugged. “He’s coming over. He wants to talk in person, I guess.”

  “So he can control you better.”

  “Diego, for the last time, he’s not controlling me.”

  “Yeah, whatever you say. But I’m staying right here just in case.” He crossed his tattooed arms over his chest and lounged back on the couch.

  “Fine, do what you want.” I was irritated at my little brother’s overprotective alpha instincts but there was obviously no budging him. Plus, I was secretly a little relieved he was staying. What if there was some truth to the rumors he’d heard? Why hadn’t Jude just denied them right away and put my mind at ease? Please don’t let it be true, I thought, staring at my apartment door and remembering the way Jude had pushed me up
against the wall beside it and pleasured me until I couldn’t think straight. Please.

  In a surprisingly short amount of time there was a quick double knock at the front door. I started to go get it but Diego beat me to it. He opened the door and there was Jude, with a very unhappy expression on his face. He towered over Diego but my brother was used to being the shorter man in almost any given situation so he didn’t back down a bit.

  “It’s okay, Diego—let him in,” I said when it was clear the alpha-male staring contest was going to go on all night if I didn’t break it up.

  Growling low in his throat, my little brother stepped aside and Jude walked in and went straight to me.

  “Luz,” he said, “Please believe me when I say I didn’t want you to find out this way.”

  I felt suddenly numb. “Then it’s true? You actually are an incubus? But…but I thought they were just fairy tales.”

  “All fairy tales have their basis in reality, I am afraid. With my people it happens to only the oldest and purest bloodlines—sometimes one is born with…extra abilities.”

  “Like the ability to suck down pain and fear the same way you suck down blood?” Diego demanded, coming over to us.

  “We do feed on emotions as well as blood—that is true enough,” Jude admitted. “But—”

  “But nothing, you hijo de puta,” Diego growled.

  Jude turned to him, his eyes beginning to glow red. “You should be aware that I am fluent in sixteen different languages and one of them is Spanish. You should further be aware that I do not appreciate being insulted.”

  “Oh, I’ll do more than insult you.” Diego’s eyes began to turn wolf gold. “You’ve been messing with my sister—I’m gonna fuck you up good, cabrón.”

  “Stop!” I stood up and got between them, putting a hand on both of their chests. “Stop it right now, both of you. Diego,” I said, turning to my brother. “Let me talk to Jude.”

  “For a minute.” He stepped back, still growling. If he had been in wolf form his hackles would have been raised and his ears would have been flat against his skull.

  “Jude,” I said, turning to my lover. “I just…I don’t know what to think.”

  “Think that you love me as I love you.” He took my hands in his. “Why does this have to change anything?”

  “Because you lied to me.” I pulled my hands out of his and took a step back. “I’m sorry but I have to know the truth. Can you read my mind? I mean, really read it and not just pick a few random thoughts off the top of my head when you’re touching me the way you told me?”

  Jude looked very unhappy. “I do have to be touching you to get anything but yes, I may have downplayed my abilities somewhat. My telepathy is something I’ve grown used to concealing. It…makes people uncomfortable if they know I can tell what they’re thinking.”

  “No shit—wonder why that is?” Diego muttered sarcastically.

  “Shut up, Diego,” I said, but my heart was sinking. I turned back to Jude. “Is it true that after we exchanged blood a third time we would be bound together forever? Uh—bonded, is that the word?”

  He nodded unhappily. “It is. But I swear I was going to tell you before we bit each other tonight.”

  Diego made a face. “So he had you biting him too? Fucking kinky vampire assholes.”

  Jude eyed the fang marks on his neck. “It appears that you have recently let one of us ‘vampire assholes’ bite you as well, friend. Hypocrisy is scarcely an admirable trait, despite your fear for your sister.”

  By now Diego’s face was as red as Jude’s eyes. “I’m not your fucking friend. And I let him bite me to find out what you are.”

  “You wouldn’t want to give me the name of your little fanged informant, now would you?” Jude took a step toward him, his eyes coal red and his fangs extended. “I do not appreciate those who spread untrue rumors about me to others.”

  “But that’s the thing, friend,” Diego spat. “What part of all this is untrue? You just fucking admitted to every damn thing he told me. You don’t have a leg to stand on.”

  I opened my mouth to defend my lover…and shut it again. Diego was right. Everything he’d told me about Jude was true. The boogieman was real and I was dating him. Hell, considering he’d apparently been about to tie me to him for eternity—or however long it was that vamps lived—I was practically engaged to him. But while I stood there, mute with misery, things were escalating at an alarming pace.

  Jude took a step forward and reached for Diego. Diego threw a punch but Jude caught his fist and held it immobile in midair, a look of concentration on his face.

  “Gavin,” he said, looking into my brother’s eyes. “Your lover who told you lies about me is called Gavin and he is of the Clan of the Bat.”

  “He’s not my lover.” Diego struggled to free his fist but he might as well have been trying to pull his hand out of solid concrete.

  Jude raised an eyebrow. “Oh no? Then why did you allow him to pleasure you with his mouth before he bit you? I believe you thought it was the best blowjob you’d ever had. Or am I wrong?”

  “Of course you’re fucking wrong! I’m not fucking gay!” Diego swung with the other fist too but Jude just caught it in his other hand. His eyes gleamed with rage but his voice was light and sarcastic.

  “Is that right? Because I believe allowing another male to service you sexually is the very definition of homosexuality.”

  “Stop!” I couldn’t bear this anymore. Couldn’t bear to see Jude stand there and expose my brother’s darkest secrets the same way he’d exposed mine.

  It suddenly occurred to me that he’d know all along—all the ugly, awful details of that night fourteen years ago with Engle. He must have seen them in my head when he touched me. But he’d made me slit myself open and spill my guts for him anyway, made me relieve that old, awful horror and despair. And all because he liked my taste—not the taste of my blood or the taste of my sex—the taste of my pain.

  Pain. That was what Jude had been feeding on the whole time we’d been together. With my fucked-up past I must have been like an all-night Vegas buffet for him. No wonder he wanted me with him forever—I would never completely get over the things that had been done to me so Jude would never run out of nourishment. And any time he wanted a little more he could just go digging around in my head for it and urge me to “talk about it” until he got what he wanted.

  “You sick bastard,” I said, my voice trembling.

  Jude looked at me, obviously surprised. “Luz—”

  “No. Shut up and let my brother go. Now.”

  He did what I said, letting go of Diego’s fists and sidestepping when my brother charged him. “Please listen to me. All is not the way it seems—just let me explain.”

  “You used me and lied to me. I’m not interested in any more of your fucking explanations. Get out.” I pointed at the door.

  Diego was suddenly right beside me. “Rescind his invitation.”

  “What?” I looked at him.

  My brother gestured in frustration. “You had to invite him to come in the apartment in the first place. Just take back your invitation and he’ll have to leave.”

  “Luz, no.” Jude shook his head but I was already speaking.

  “Jude Jacobson, I rescind your invitation to my apartment.”

  Jude walked rapidly toward the door although it was apparent he didn’t want to. He opened it, took a step outside and turned around to face me again. “Please, hear me out,” he begged, his voice hoarse with emotion.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t want to hear anything else you’ve got to say.” I could feel tears building in my throat and stinging my eyes. I was about to bawl and I didn’t want him to see me do it.

  “Please.” Jude dropped to his knees in the doorway and leaned forward as far as he could, his hands held out in a beseeching manner. It looked almost as though he was pressing against an invisible barrier. “Please, beloved,” he whispered. “Don’t turn me away—we are pledged t
o each other. I love you.”

  I started to cry then, I couldn’t help it. “Just go,” I somehow managed to say between sobs. “Please, Jude, there’s nothing left to say. Just go away and leave me alone.”

  “Very well,” he whispered and I thought he might be crying too. But before I could be sure, he was gone.

  “Hey, sweetheart. Your brother tells us you’re not feeling too good lately.” My mother’s voice on the phone sounded sweetly concerned. I wondered, as I always did, if she was just pretending or if she really cared about her black-sheep daughter.

  “Hi, Mom. Yeah, I’ve been a little, uh, under the weather,” I said cautiously.

  I wasn’t sure how much Diego had told her—the less the better as far as I was concerned. I couldn’t ask him because he wasn’t taking my calls at the moment—probably because he was chronically embarrassed at the way Jude had outed him the last time we’d seen each other. I wished he would pick up the phone even once and hear what I had to say. I wanted him to know that I still loved and accepted him—the way he had loved and accepted me for years when I was a non-shifter. But it had been a week since I’d talked to him—a week since that awful last visit from Jude—and by now I figured Diego would call me when he was good and ready and not before.

  Meanwhile, though I was monitoring my own incoming calls pretty closely, Jude had only called me once. I had let the call go straight to voicemail and sure enough, he’d left me a message. “Luz,” he said, his voice filled with pain. “I will never stop loving you.” And then he’d hung up.

  I had played the message multiple times and cried every time. It had been a wretched week—the week from hell. And talking to my mom wasn’t exactly making things any better.

  “I was hoping you’d like to come by this Thursday for dinner,” she said, breaking my train of thought. “We never did get to celebrate your first shift and that would be the perfect time.”

  “Geez, Mom, I don’t know,” I hedged.

  “Everyone will be there. And I’m going to bake a cake.”

  “A cake? What kind of cake?” I couldn’t help asking. Mom’s cakes were legendary. Rich and dense and topped with homemade buttercream frosting, they melted in your mouth and made your taste buds do the happy dance.