Kylie didn’t know what those words were supposed to mean but she let it go.
She wanted to ask what had happened to Liam’s father, but she’d already crossed the line with her mention of age. As one, they set the porch swing in motion and fell into a companionable silence. The sun gleamed off the bare expanse of Liam’s back as a thin layer of sweat covered his skin. His muscles rolled and flexed as he ripped a patch of stubborn weeds from their roots. Without warning, Kylie had to blink back tears. It was all so normal. This was the life she dreamed of having.
“Are you all right?” Delphine’s quiet question startled her out her thoughts. Kylie could see Delphine watching her out of the corner of her eye but couldn’t bring herself to look over at the woman.
Kylie swallowed past the lump in her throat. “I wanted this.” Her eyes fell closed at the admission and a tear slipped down her cheek. Reaching up, she swiped it away hoping Delphine hadn’t noticed. “I didn’t want fame or fortune.” Kylie swept her arm wide indicating her surroundings. “I wanted all of this. I thought life had been unusually cruel to me by forcing me to be completely alone. But, it seems death is a twisted bastard.”
Reaching over, Delphine took her hand. “Nobody really dies, Kylie. You simply step across a line most people can’t see. You didn’t become some ghoul. You changed addresses. Why are you convinced this isn’t real?” she asked nodding toward their joined hands.
Kylie chewed on her bottom lip. She wanted to say she didn’t know, but she did. She didn’t remember stepping across any line and the blank spot in her memory scared the hell out of her.
“Liam’s father was rich and powerful,” Delphine said, pulling Kylie from her doldrums. “I was this backwoods Cajun girl who should’ve never caught his eye.” Delphine appeared to turn inside herself as she spoke. “For too many reasons to count, he couldn’t offer me the normal respectable life most women crave, but I didn’t care. I just wanted as much of him as I could have.” She made a helpless gesture before her hand fell limply to her side. She stared at a spot on the horizon as if she was now the one who couldn’t look at Kylie as she made her confessions. “He ripped my heart out but I still loved him afterward. We don’t get to choose our fate, you know? Our path is set for us long before we’re born. Sometimes the choices you do have are no choice at all.” Delphine finally looked over at her. “So you choose the sin you can live with.”
Kylie didn’t know what to say. She had the strangest urge to ask if Delphine had buried the man in her back yard but she managed to hold her tongue. When Kylie didn’t respond, Delphine sighed heavily. “What I’m trying to say is—this is it for you, Kylie. This is your world now. There are no other options open to you. All you can do now is figure out what you need in order to live with what you’ve got.”
“I need to know how I died,” Kylie said before she could change her mind. A bright smile lit Delphine’s face. “That, I can do for you. I don’t know if Liam told you or not, but I have a special talent for preforming certain spells. It’s one of the many reasons folks stay away from this part of the swamp.”
To Kylie’s mind, Delphine’s practice of witchcraft explained a great deal. “He did not say as much, but I’m not surprised.” Realizing how her words sounded, Kylie added, “The spells part not the people staying away part. That’s just ridiculous because you’re a beautiful person.”
Delphine’s eyes danced with laughter. “Not really, but I appreciate the compliment. We’ll do the spell tonight,” she added with a firm nod. “It will have been exactly fourteen days since the last full moon. It’s the perfect dark moon for exploring the deepest recesses of your mind.”
“What are the two greatest loves of my life chatting about over here?” Liam asked, dropping down between the two of them. He draped his arm over Kylie’s shoulders. Delphine explained her plan to bring back Kylie’s memory while Kylie turned Liam’s words over in her mind. She didn’t want to read too much into them but she wanted to be the greatest love of his life. She wanted it with something so powerful it didn’t have a name. In that moment, she completely understood Delphine. She couldn’t think of single sin she couldn’t live with to be with him.
* * * * *
Anne glanced at the card and back at the steel-framed windowless door. Judging by the expensive card, she’d been expecting something much different. She wasn’t sure what exactly. Perhaps an office building or a cute antique shop, but a gothic nightclub hadn’t even made the top five. Yet, here she was. She’d tried to convince Mark to allow her to come alone on this one, but he’d taken one look at her slinky black spaghetti strap dress and staunchly refused. Hanging back, she watched as a few people showed an invitation to the man working the door before they were allowed admittance. She pulled Kieran’s card out her bra.
“Here goes nothing,” she said flashing Mark a quick smile. He didn’t return it. Instead, he eyed the darkened alley and eerie club with suspicion. While she had taken Jade’s advice and worn something sexy, Mark’s only concession had been to wear a jacket with his jeans. It would have to do.
Pasting on her best vixen smile, she made eye contact with the gigantic muscle blocking the club’s entryway. His gaze dropped to her six-inch “fuck me” heels before slowly lifting back to her face and his lips twisted with appreciation. The guy’s build reminded her of a bull. His shoulders spread the entire width of the door. He also didn’t have a neck. She imagined he threw a slow punch but it probably landed as hard as a hammer. He wasn’t her type but she could appreciate a well-kept machine. Mark grumbled something indiscernible under his breath and although she was unable to make out the words, she could read the body language. He was two minutes away from beating his chest. The pissing contest had begun. She held out Kieran’s card and the guard brushed his fingers along hers as he took it from her. He didn’t look at it.
“The cop stays outside.” His voice had a smooth Cajun tint taking her by surprise. She’d been expecting a deep rumble.
“No way in hell,” Mark said without missing a beat.
“I’m Justice,” the guard said, completely ignoring Mark’s presence. “Mr. Desdemona is expecting you.” His lack of concern over Mark’s ire could not have been more obvious. Mark had been dismissed. Anne read his intentions loud and clear. Mark wasn’t going in.
“He’s not coming in with me,” she reassured Justice.
“Oh, yes I am.”
“He’s not,” she repeated firmly making sure both men knew she was serious. As much as she appreciated everything Mark had done for her up until this point, she couldn’t allow his protective nature to keep her from finding the answers she needed.
The bouncer stepped aside and Anne managed to take one step before Mark snagged her arm. “I can’t let you do this.”
“Excuse me? You can’t let me do this?”
He huffed. “You know what I mean,” he said sounding desperate.
His concern wormed its way beneath her false veneer of bravery. Eyeing the large man standing inches away and waiting patiently for her entry, she decided a contingency plan wasn’t a bad idea. “If I’m not back in fifteen minutes then storm the building.” Before he could argue further, she pulled out of his hold and slipped past Justice who turned his head, keeping her in his line of sight as she went. He inhaled deeply as their skin brushed. “Delicious.”
Without looking back, she knew Justice was back to filling the doorway with his large frame by the way Mark growled. She didn’t doubt Mark would push his way inside if she didn’t make it out in exactly fourteen minutes and fifty-nine seconds.
An ominous low beat strummed from invisible speakers and multi-colored lights flashed so quickly, she worried she might have a seizure. Wearing black had been a good decision, she decided right away. Even though she was still not dressed to fit in, the dark coloration matched the goth style of everyone else in the club. Justice appeared at her side and for a moment, she would’ve sworn he materialized out of thin air. She started to as
k who was watching the door but decided she didn’t care. If Justice was with her then it would be much easier for Mark to burst in.
Clasping her elbow, he steered her through the crowd and her steps faltered. “Mr. Desdemona has a table waiting for you,” he explained. A half smile touched his lips and she realized she was staring. She quickly glanced away.
“I’m sorry. I feel as if we’ve met somewhere before.”
“Hmm, who knows? It’s a small world,” he said as he muscled his way through the writhing bodies on the dance floor until they reached a dark table located in the corner of the club. With old world manners, he helped her into her chair before standing with his back to her the same as he had done at the door.
“Are you guarding me?” she asked, incredulous.
He didn’t say a word only kept his eyes straight ahead and intimidated the crowd with his size. A hush seemed to fall over the room as a lone blond man made his way in her direction. His black tailor-made business suit and red tie made everyone else in the building seem underdressed but in an odd way. The suit didn’t do him justice. He was too powerful to be contained to any certain style. A path cleared in front of his every step as if no one dared to get too near. She knew without having to be told that this was Kieran Desdemona. This was a man not to be trifled with. The type of man you went to if you had a problem. The lights shimmered off the gold strands in his hair and his blue eyes held hers as he crossed the room. Although his expression never changed, she could feel his satisfaction over her being there. Almost as spider would a fly that landed in its web.
She was so captivated by the sight of him that when her guard bowed before leaving them alone, she only found it to be passably odd. He chose a chair, placing his back toward the wall and facing the crowd. She wondered if he expected an attack. She kept her gaze locked on his, half in fear he would strike as a snake would if she did not. Up close, she realized the reason she’d been able to tell the color of eyes even from across the room. They were luminescent, not in a way it was immediately apparent, but there wasn’t a doubt in her mind he was not human.
“Since you’re here, I’m going to assume Jade called you.”
He didn’t smile but she had a sneaking suspicion he found her words amusing in some way. “I am aware of your problem, if that is what you are asking?”
She nodded. “I tried speaking with Madame Curion to find out what she told me sister before she died, but she threw agrimony at me while ranting about the devil.”
He did laugh then. It was a low, deep, almost deadly sound, which caused chill bumps to form on her skin. “Agrimony is not going to save her. She merely treated her hardwood flooring to a much needed shine.”
“Do you know what she told Kylie about the demon tormenting her?”
He tilted his chin slightly as he answered. “I do.”
Excitement caused Anne to sit forward in her seat. “Could you tell me? I think whatever she said to my sister set her on the path to her death.”
His eyes searched her face as if accessing her determination. After a moment, he sighed. “It was all drivel.”
“None the less,” she said urging him on.
“Very well,” he said sounding resigned as he leaned forward, bracing his elbows on the table. “She told Kylie she was one of the cursed seven. A female born for the sole purpose of becoming part of the seventh ruler of hell’s harem.”
Anne’s brows drew together in a frown. “And how did she come to this conclusion?”
“It was a combination of Kylie’s description of the demon that was tormenting her and the theory of the sevens. On Kylie’s seventh birthday, both parents were slaughtered. Their sacrificial blood opened a doorway between the worlds allowing Kylie to see the parallel universe housing the souls of the dead. At seventeen, the one obstacle standing in the way of Kylie coming here, where the mouth of hell resides, was removed by the death of her aunt. Madame Curion went on to predict, by following the line of this theory, Kylie would have the final hurdle removed standing between her and her intended at the age of twenty-seven—her life.”
“Did Madame Curion tell her how she could prevent this from happening?”
Kieran gave her another short nod. “She was to have a gold cross blessed by a priest and then wear it around her neck for protection. However, as I said, it’s all drivel. Demons are not known for their patience. I assure you, had Septem wanted your sister he would not have waited twenty years to act.”
Pulling the cross out from inside her shirt collar, she showed it to him. “It was my mother’s necklace,” she explained. “Kylie must have worn it to keep her safe.”
His eyes flickered over the charm and his mouth turned up in one corner in a sardonic smile. “Miss Trace, you cannot walk two feet without tripping over a cross in this town. It’s certainly not going to stop someone as powerful as the seventh ruler of hell. Not that it matters, since it was all a lie.”
“I don’t understand,” Anne said, sounding lost even to her own ears. “Our parents did die when Kylie was seven and that’s when her claims of speaking to the dead began. Our aunt did die when Kylie was seventeen and Kylie did die at twenty-seven. According to her journal, Kylie was being terrorized by Septem. All the things Madame Curion told Kylie added up to the truth.”
“All coincidences,” Kieran said without hesitation. “Liars lie, Miss Trace. It’s what they do and they are good at it. Madame Curion gets paid to sound as if she knows exactly what she’s talking about. She listens, then preys upon people’s memories and fears.”
“So, that sweet old bus driver really did kill Kylie? Why would he do such a thing?”
Kieran relaxed in his chair and eyed her carefully. “I did not say as much.”
Anne rubbed her temples between her hands. It was all so confusing. They were talking in circles. “Jade sent me here because she said you would tell me the truth of what happened to my sister, but I haven’t learned anything other than finding out Madame Curion is a liar. Do you even know who really killed her?”
“Yes,” he answered without hesitation and sounding matter of fact.
“Then who?” Anne asked a bit desperately.
Kieran leaned forward holding her stare. His luminescent blue eyes seemed to swirl with an unnatural light. “What is it worth to you to find your sister’s killer?”
“Everything,” she answered immediately.
The legs of his chair screeched across the floor as he stood. His wide frame caused Anne to feel small and alone. Tucking his tie back in his jacket, he smoothed his lapels. “I’ll be here when you mean those words, Miss Trace.”
Anne started to argue she did mean it but the words lodged in her throat as he lifted his eyes to her once more and the irises no longer swirled blue but red. Her lungs ceased to work and she stared transfixed at the sight of him until he simply disappeared. One moment he was holding her gaze steadily and the next he was gone.
Justice materialized at her side startling her and she wondered if anyone in the room with her was human.
“I’ll see you to the door, Miss Trace. Trust me when I say you have no desire to remain here alone.”
* * * * *
Kylie stood in the center of the hundreds of lit candles wondering what she’d agreed to do. For some reason, she’d almost been expecting to be dancing naked under the moon while tossing wild berries in the air or something similar. Surrounded by candles, chanting and ointment as she was, she felt very exposed and alone. Liam and Delphine had taken up spots which she explained best helped call to the dark moon or something similarly odd. Delphine had already fussed at her several times about her lack of focus but she felt stupid.
“Concentrate, Kylie,” Liam whispered and she made a concerted effort since he was the one to ask. She didn’t want to let him down. This had been her idea, after all. It was just out of her element. She was used to séances not hoodoo Voodoo magic. She was trying so hard to concentrate, her thoughts ended up being louder than anything
else in the room. It took her a minute to realize one of the voices she was hearing was not her own, but another familiar voice instead. It was the young Goth girl she’d worked with at Madame Curion’s. Once she acknowledged hearing it, the young girl’s face became clearer as well.
“There’s this man. I do some work for him on the side and he owes me. Tell him I’m calling in a favor. Be sure to tell him everything you told Madame Curion. He can help you.” Kylie nodded at Jade’s words as relief rushed over her. Finally, someone was listening to her.
The scene changed and Kylie was sitting at a tiny wooden table with a cup of coffee resting at her elbow. She found the bright sun and foot traffic outside the window ridiculously interesting as she attempted to avoid the gaze of man sitting across from her. In spite of the fact he was wearing a tailor-made business suit, she was even more frightened of him than she’d ever been of Septem.
“I’m being harassed.”
“Then you should call the police. I do believe that is typically what humans do under those circumstances,” he answered. Humor tinted his words and Kylie didn’t miss the insinuation he did not fall under the human classification.
“I’m being harassed by a demon,” she clarified. “I don’t think the police can protect my soul from getting dragged into hell.”
“Your soul cannot be stolen from you, Miss Trace. It’s the only thing in the world, which truly belongs to you. You can lose it through your actions or use it to barter a deal but it cannot be stripped from you.”
Despite her fear, a shot of annoyance ran through her. “That doesn’t really help me solve anything. Don’t get me wrong, I’m extremely relieved to learn Septem can’t simply steal away with me, but still… The knowledge doesn’t keep him from spending the rest of my life tormenting me. I don’t think I can withstand that.”
He ran the pad of his thumb over his bottom lip as if lost in thought. His eyes met hers and Kylie’s skirted away again. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t seem to hold his stare.
“There’s only one thing strong enough to get rid of a demon once it has its sights set on you,” he said after a moment. Kylie felt her heart drop at his ominous news. If she was going to have to go on some crazy quest to retrieve some long lost artifact as they did in the movies then she was screwed, because she was too broke to go anywhere and wasn’t a lover of nature in general. She almost laughed as the picture of her hacking her way through the brush with a machete flashed across her mind.
Pure Hell (Seventh Level Book 1) Page 10