Ignited

by Laurie Wetzel

  This wasn’t supposed to happen. That damn old woman was only supposed to keep Mads from leaving. I didn’t mean shoot her.

  Mads and I were supposed to talk. I was supposed to make her sign that contract.

  The Acquisitioner’s words float through my mind: According to both Heaven and Hell, Madison does not exist. If she does not exist, neither side will claim her soul.

  If I fail . . . if I can’t save her . . . I’ll lose her forever.

  I tilt my head to the ceiling, calling on the God I’ve ignored since my death.

  “Spare her. I know you don’t know who she is, but I promise you, she’s important.”

  I pause, realizing just how true the words are. What she does goes beyond me. It affects all of us. I don’t give a damn about them, though—only her and I. To keep her, I’ll do whatever it takes.

  I take a breath, and this time, I speak from my heart. “Do this for me, and I will change. I will fight for her. I will stop ignoring the way she makes me feel. I’ll stop denying that she makes me—a demon—feel the wondrous emotions you gifted me when I was mortal. She doesn’t deserve the curse I placed upon her. Please. Please help her.”

  I stare at Mads for what seems like an eternity. Relief finally fills me as the rhythm of her heart steadies. But she’s far from safe. There’s still a gaping hole in her stomach, and her blood pools around us.

  If, by some miracle, I’m able to save her, I will spend eternity making it up to her.

  . . .

  Her body stabilizes when the wounds finally close. I carry her back to the bedroom and gently place her on the bed. I lie down beside her, keeping my essence inside her. I hold my breath, both watching and feeling for any signs of duress.

  There are none.

  I don’t know how she got those wounds on her arm and back, but they’re gone now too. They must have happened while I was here in Georgia the first time, digging into her life. Those wounds looked painful, however she got them. For some reason, I’m more relieved they’re gone than I am that the gunshot wound has closed.

  I first noticed those scars when I was watching her at the clothing store. I wanted to immediately go find MJ and beat the crap out of him for failing to keep her safe. Then she stepped out in that lacey white dress, emerald eyes shining and a smile so full of joy . . . She looked more beautiful than I’ve ever seen her before.

  The happiness on her face distracted me. It distracted me for so damn long, I nearly missed my opportunity to take her away tonight. I finally snapped out of it when she went to the bathroom at the bar and said those three words with his name at the end. I knew it was time to finally take her.

  But this . . . this wasn’t supposed to happen.

  I didn’t know she was unconscious until we arrived back in Atlanta. I thought maybe she used her ability and went to that bridge she took me to. I knew she couldn’t stay away forever, so I waited. I never expected her to be possessed. Somehow the demon took her soul when we were in the Veil.

  Who is this demon? How can she possess Mads? The demon knows about Mads—she knew what would happen if I touched Mads with the blade. How does she even know about the blade?

  But most importantly, what connection does she have to Mads? There has to be something linking them for Mads to trust the demon enough to let her possess her.

  The only surefire way to keep Mads away from that demon and all the others is to force her to sign the contract. But if I do that, then I hand her—and myself—over to someone who is as bad as all the demons combined.

  I don’t know what to do anymore.

  I tuck a strand of hair behind Mads’s ear. She came so close to death. . . to slipping away forever. She’s unconscious again. It will take her some time to return to me.

  I wish she were merely sleeping. I love watching her sleep. It’s the only time when she’s content and I’m free to admire her. Watching her now . . . it’s easy to forget the peril we’re in and allow myself to fantasize that we’re together in all the ways I want. Maybe, if I save her, we can still have that.

  I push more of my essence into her, searching for whatever is preventing her from waking and coming back to me. No matter what I find, I’m not letting go. I’m never giving up on her. I will hold her until I see her magnificent eyes open again.

  My essence returns to me with no explanation. It’s as if Mads is choosing to remain where she is—wherever she may be.

  I crack a smile. Even unconscious she’s stubborn.

  She’ll wake at some point. I’ll wait. She’s gonna be pissed—to say the least. I can only imagine what her emotions would have stirred up if I hadn’t compelled that ability away. She would have given away our position for sure.

  I look down at her and frown. I don’t like compelling her. Part of me wishes I had never figured out that touch is the key. From this moment on, I will compel her only to keep her safe.

  Before her, life was just easier when I compelled everyone around me. No one could stop me from getting what I wanted—girls, money, liquor. It didn’t matter. It was all mine. More importantly, compelling everyone was my way of making sure no one got too close. Even as a demon without feelings, I guess I’ve always been that scared, pissed-off kid.

  But Mads called me on it. Last Saturday over the phone, she said I’ve made my life a lie. She was right. Deep down, I’ve always known my life was shallow. I like that she challenges me—a demon—to be a better person.

  If we’re going to have a future together, it can’t be one built on manipulation and lies. When she wakes, I’ll tell her everything. I’ll give her the truth he won’t. Maybe then, finally, she’ll understand I love her more than he does.

  Chapter Fifty-Nine

  Maddy

  “I love you, MJ.”

  I see a smile spread across my face as I look at my reflection in the bathroom mirror. For some reason, it’s such a relief to say those words.

  I have this strange feeling I missed my chance to tell him I love him. But I haven’t. MJ’s waiting for me at the table. I can go tell him right now.

  I turn to dry my hands, and there, standing behind me, is MJ.

  “MJ,” I say with a nervous laugh, “what are you doing? This is the ladies’ room.”

  But he just stares at me, his eyes wide and his mouth open. He must have heard me—he heard me say I love him. We gaze at each other for a moment, then he smiles and wraps his arms around me.

  My heart swells. I feel this sudden, overwhelming desire to hold him closer. I don’t know why, but it feels like an eternity since I’ve seen him.

  “Let’s go dance,” I say.

  MJ leans back, smiling down at me, looking at me with so much love that I never want this night to end.

  “We are dancing,” he says.

  We’re suddenly on the dance floor. Music fills my ears, and we’re swaying.

  Everything is covered in fog. It’s hard to see through it, but we seem to be the only ones here. I don’t even see Dad’s band. But then where is that music coming from?

  “Where are my friends? My father and his band?”

  “I sent them all home. I didn’t want to share you anymore.”

  I smile and rest my head on his chest, grateful to be alone with him.

  But with each revolution, this odd feeling grows inside me—like I’m missing something. Something important. I hold MJ tighter and try to ignore it, but I can’t.

  I break away from MJ, shaking my head. “This is wrong. I shouldn’t be here.”

  But MJ just wraps his arms around me again, continuing our dance. “Nothing is wrong, Maddy.”

  I close my eyes and lean into him, wishing I could just lose myself in this moment. But from somewhere deep in my mind, I hear words I said earlier today to Sissy in the mall: I feel like I’m dreaming, like this isn’t real. I feel like I’m actually somewhere else—somewhere bad—and I created this happy scene to cope with it.

  Again, I push away and stop dancing. Panic fills me.r />
  “No. I mean it. Something is wrong.”

  MJ touches my face. “We’re together. I love you, and I know you love me too. Stay here. Stay where I can keep you safe.”

  “No.”

  I start marching back to our table, but the dance floor never ends. I stop and spin around. Every direction is dark.

  “Where are we, MJ?”

  “We’re together,” he says, pulling me back to him. “That’s all that matters.”

  His essence picks up inside me, working to calm my rising panic. Once again, we begin to move, dancing to a song no one is playing.

  This isn’t real. It can’t be.

  This is a dream.

  I did this. Something happened to me—something bad—and I created this to cope.

  My heart aches so deeply that tears stream down my face. MJ wipes them away.

  “Don’t cry, Maddy,” he begs. “Please.”

  I stare into his hazel eyes, memorizing his face, feeling as if this is the last time I’ll see him. The tears fall harder.

  “I’m sorry, MJ. I have to go. I love you.”

  “No, Maddy. Just stay. I can’t keep you safe if you leave. I can here. I can love you. And you can love me. But only if you stay.”

  “I want to stay,” I say. “I do. I don’t know what’s happened to me, and I feel like . . . if I leave, I might never see you again. But I can’t stay here. Staying here is giving up. I can’t do that.”

  “Living isn’t giving up,” he pleads.

  Tears pool in his hazel eyes as he stares at me with such despair that I step away.

  “I’m sorry,” I say. “This isn’t real. You’re not real.”

  Then I close my eyes, ignoring his desperate pleas. I have to concentrate and wake myself up.

  I can do this.

  As the fog lifts and I feel myself awakening, I hear someone take a breath beside me.

  “Are you okay?” A familiar male voice cuts through the darkness.

  I blink, adjusting to the light. Although it’s dim, it’s still a harsh contrast. A room begins to take shape, and foggy memories stream forward of being someplace new. Someplace dangerous.

  I turn, and Justin’s lying beside me in bed.

  Chapter Sixty

  Maddy

  I jump up, putting the bed between me and Justin. With the quick movement, my head sways. I grab the mattress for support.

  Slowly, Justin gets out of bed on the other side, surprisingly giving me space.

  As my head clears, so do my memories. I begin to piece them together. Justin took me from the bathroom at the bar. My soul went to Hell, and the masked demon came back with me to help me escape. I remember her fighting Justin and knocking him out. She left and I ran. I made it all the way to the living room, but the old woman shot me.

  Oh, God. She shot me.

  My hands fly to my abdomen. There’s a gaping hole in the center of my dress, and the lace is stained with dried blood. There’s dried blood all over my skin too. But I don’t see the wound.

  “I healed you,” he says softly. “You’re fine now.”

  I collapse, sitting on the bed. Nothing is fine.

  Part of me wants to go back to wherever I was with MJ. But I can’t. I can’t go back to that dream, and I can’t escape this reality.

  There’s no point in running now. In the best-case scenario, the masked demon will perhaps return and help me escape again. In the worst, I’m on my own until his compulsion wears off, if at all. MJ, the other Protectors, Elizabeth—they have no way of helping me.

  Tears well up, and my vision blurs, but the tears won’t fall. I can’t cry. The house should be quaking from a storm matching what I feel inside me. But he’s taken that from me. My emotions are prisoners, just as I am.

  Suddenly Justin’s standing in front of me. I flinch as he moves to touch me. He stops.

  “I’m not going to hurt you, Mads. Never again.”

  In a flash, his words ignite a fire inside me that I wish could burn around me.

  “You expect me to believe that?” I hiss. “You do nothing but hurt me. You are a cold, cruel monster. I remember every single horrible thing you’ve put me through!”

  “Do you want me to erase those memories from you?” He doesn’t even hesitate. And he says it so plainly, as if asking whether I’d like some ice cream.

  A shiver runs through me as I answer him with silence.

  “Thought as much,” he replies. “But don’t worry. I won’t do that—not unless you force me to. Your memories are part of what makes you, you. As infuriating as you can be sometimes, I’ve grown accustomed to you.”

  I hold back the desire to laugh. He thinks he knows me. I don’t even know me. Every day, I slip farther away from who I was as I become someone unrecognizable.

  But as I look into his soulless eyes, I see how sure he is of himself—and me.

  “When I heard the gun go off and saw you lying there, covered in your own blood, I thought I was too late. I thought I’d lost you.”

  My stomach quenches as phantom pains fill me. I try to ignore it.

  “Yeah, well, don’t act like you did me any favors by healing me.”

  “You don’t get it, Mads,” he says, shaking his head. “I thought I lost you. I took you to save you, and in the first couple hours, I nearly lost you. Forever.”

  His voice carries that same something the masked demon’s voice carried when she told him not to use the blade on me.

  “You’re unclaimed, Mads,” he says, his words heavy. “Neither Heaven nor Hell know of you. If you die, there is no peace, no afterlife, waiting for you. Just eternal nothingness. If even that.”

  He reaches out, running his fingers through my hair, but I’m too stunned to even feel it inside or outside of me. Of all the things I’ve learned about myself.

  Unclaimed.

  Nothingness.

  “That’s why there’s a contract—it’s a claim on you. It gives me the rights to your soul. I took you because I planned on making you sign it,” he says, still caressing my hair.

  This is it, then. I can’t move. I can’t breathe. I’m powerless to stop him this time. My blood drains from me as if he has already pierced me with the feather pen.

  “But I don’t want you to sign it. Not anymore.”

  I stare at him in disbelief. He stares back with an expression I’ve never seen on his face before.

  Silence lingers between us.

  “Why not?” I finally whisper.

  He bends down so we’re eye to eye. “Have you ever been to the circus, Mads?”

  My eyes widen in surprise.

  I don’t know if he actually expects an answer, but I cautiously nod. I’ve gone twice—once with my family, another time as a school trip. Both were happy memories. I cling to thoughts of my family and friends, doubting I’ll ever see them again.

  “My mother took me to the circus when I was young,” he says. “There was excitement. Danger. And everyone was happy. It was a rush I’d never felt before. My favorite part was the lion tamer—seeing the most feared jungle animal be tamed by nothing more than a whip and a chair. As I watched on, I envisioned joining the circus myself.” His mouth forms a small smile, but there’s also a hardness to it.

  I can’t stop myself from thinking of Justin as a little, innocent blue-eyed boy. As JayJay. But was his father already hitting him at that young age? Is that why he wanted to run away and join the circus?

  “When the show was done, I snuck away from my mother and found my way backstage, to part of the circus the public isn’t supposed to see. I came across the ringmaster, lion tamer, and the lion in its cage. I was hiding behind some props, and I wanted to rush up to them, ready to join the circus right then and there. But I stopped when the ringmaster picked up the whip and slashed the lion tamer across the back.”

  I wince, not expecting this turn in the story. I feel a memory of a sting on my back that I know he feels too. I look down at my arms and suddenly notic
e the scars are gone.

  I kept them to remember. He took them back.

  Justin grimaces. “The lion apparently hadn’t performed to the ringmaster’s standards. It didn’t act ferocious enough. The crowd wasn’t as scared as he wanted them to be. He threw the whip down to the tamer and ordered him to whip the lion. Whip him until he roared. Whip him until he bled. Whip him until he learned who was boss. And he did. I saw every lash.”

  My heart sinks, thinking of that scared little boy witnessing such horror—not unlike what he himself endured at the hands of his father.

  “After, the ringmaster left,” Justin continues. “I couldn’t believe it, but the lion tamer reentered the lion’s cage. I expected the lion would eat him—tear him to shreds for what he did. But he didn’t. Instead, the tamer held the bleeding, broken lion and cried.

  “So I got out of my hiding spot, walked up to the cage, and just stood there in silence. He looked up at me and said, ‘To love someone, sometimes you have to hurt them to save them from being hurt by others.’ You see, neither the lion nor the tamer had any control over their fate. Only the ringmaster.” He pauses. “I never understood what he meant until now.”

  His eyes bore so deeply into mine that I can’t help but lean away.

  “I know I’ve hurt you, Mads. And I know I’m supposed to make you sign the contract. But if you do, then you’ll be the lion and I’ll be the tamer.”

  My lips quiver. Terror builds inside.

  “Wh-who is the ringmaster?”

  Justin gently places his hand on my cheek. I cringe as his essence enters me again.

  “He’s known as the Acquisitioner—he acquires souls for the Devil. He’s the leader of the Fallen. He wants to use your abilities to assure himself as the new ruler of Hell. But I will do everything I can to stop that from happening. I want us to be together—see the world. I want to make you happy.”

  His thumb strokes my cheek. “I need to know, is there even a remote possibility you could ever love me like you love him?”

  Instantly I think of MJ and how I’ll never get to tell him I love him. I whimper. I don’t mean to—it just happens.