by Jus Accardo
Her tongue slipped between my lips, so soft. So barely there. I closed my eyes and sighed. Contact. A physical connection. Sam was my lifeline to sanity. It was true what she’d said. We were more than stolen moments and forbidden touches. But I wanted her. All of her.
Her tongue skated across my bottom lip, then traced the top, tasting. The sensations were electric—the feel of her so close, the scent of her all round me. She tasted like home to me. Sam tasted like forever. Screw heaven and hell. Fuck Heckle and anyone else who stood in our way. The universe made her for me. Not for them. Not for Azirak. Not to be a pawn used to tip the balance in either direction. There would be no saving anyone who tried to remove her from my life. From my future.
It took more control than I thought I possessed, but I pulled away, hands still tangled in her hair. “Let’s get moving.”
The cabin Heckle told us about wasn’t hard to find—a simple log shack with stacks of firewood surrounding the entire perimeter like a crude wooden fortress wall. “This is it?” Sam asked, sounding unimpressed. “I was expecting something more…”
“Grandiose?”
She laughed. “Yeah, maybe.” Fingers threaded through mine, she took a deep breath. The smallest ribbon of pink, of hope, swirled around her shoulders. “Time to get this over with.”
The walk up the path was strange. With each step, the temperature grew warmer. The closer we came to the shack, the more different it looked. They were subtle changes at first. The color of the wood lightened. The stacks of firewood became less defined. The overgrowth of vegetation took on hints of off-season color and changed their shape.
By the time we were halfway up the walk, the small wooden shack had transformed into a stately white manor with a perfectly trimmed lawn and blooming foliage. The snow that had coated the ground everywhere else was gone. Here, it was summer. The trees that were bare and lifeless moments ago now thrived with color and life.
Sam stopped just short of the door and surveyed the plot. “I feel like someone just slipped me some acid.”
“No shit.” I banged on the door. “If he answers the door in a speedo, we’re out of here.”
We waited, but no one appeared. I pounded again. This time the door creaked opened, but there was no one in sight.
“’Cause that’s a good sign,” Sam said. I started forward, but she grabbed my arm and wrenched me back. Shaking her head, she said, “Um, did you miss that movie?”
“What movie?”
“The one where the door conveniently opens, the guy walks inside, and is never heard from again?”
“What the hell movie was that?”
“I dunno,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Like, every horror movie ever made?”
“I thought it was usually a stacked blonde bouncing up the stairs in skimpy clothing when she should be running down in sensible shoes?”
“Either way,” Sam said, trying to hide a grin. She hitched her thumb toward the door. “Never a good sign.”
I bit back a laugh and pushed inside. Sam stayed close. I would have preferred she wait outside, but that wasn’t going to happen unless I handcuffed her to the railing.
Hmm. Handcuffs.
Fuck. Mind in the game, Jax.
The hallway was long, lined with white marble and gold trim along the ceiling. Light fixtures hung down, one every eight feet or so, resembling feathers. Every so often a breeze would blow through, ruffling them and making odd shadows dance across the walls.
“Obviously the outside is, um, a little deceiving. I feel like there’s a Doctor Who joke in here somewhere,” Sam said. She ran her hand along the wall, tracing a circular pattern.
“Doctor who?”
She stopped walking and stared. “Seriously?”
“I take it I should know what that is?”
“We are officially over,” she said in mock disgust. “Finished.”
There was another door at the end of the hall, this one painted gold. Gaudy as hell. It, too, opened when we neared, but this time I hesitated. “Kick me to the curb later,” I told her as I nudged it open a little more with the toe of my boot. The room beyond looked empty. “Right now, we need to find Michael.”
“And why, might I ask, are you looking for me?”
I turned and Sam jumped, letting out a squeak. “Jesus,” she said, grabbing the wall for balance.
“Nope,” the man answered with an amused grin. “Though we were BFFs back in the day.”
“What is it with you people and popping out of nowhere?”
Michael stood about six feet tall, and had dark hair and a long, angular face. There was a mist around him, similar to the emotion I saw on people, only thinner and just a single color. White. He eyed me head-to-toe, then turned to Sam.
“It is strange that you should come here to seek me out, of all people, but I welcome you all the same.” He gestured to the door. “Please. Come in and sit.”
“It’s not a social call,” I said, leery. A demon shows up to your house and you invite him in for brews and bullshit? No.
“I’m quite sure it’s not. Your kind would hardly partake in social activities with mine.” He turned to Sam. “And it would appear you have much more interesting company.”
He led the way, and we followed him into the room. Sam took a seat on the large white wraparound couch, while I stayed by the door. I didn’t trust him, but I was confident that I could grab Sam and bolt if needed.
“Bel Heckle told us where to find you,” she started.
“Ahh,” Michael said, sitting and folding both hands in his lap. “How is Abel these days? Still trying to control the universe?”
From his tone, he and Heckle weren’t on the best of terms. My hackles rose immediately. Why the fuck would he send us here if he and the archangel were in the middle of a pissing match? Then again, it seemed everyone who knew Heckle wasn’t thrilled with him. Myself included.
Sam held up her hand. “I take it you know what it is?”
“I do,” Michael said with a smile.
She ran a thumb over the cuff. “Heckle said you might be able to remove it?”
“There’s a possibility I can help you remove it.”
“A possibility,” I repeated. “Either you can take it off, or not.”
“Fakori cuffs are powerful. The cuff is at the mercy of the controller’s will. Normally they cannot be removed by anyone other than the individual who placed them.”
Every second we spent humoring this freak was another second shaved from Sam’s life. “Normally, but not always?”
Sam was doing a better job keeping her cool than me. Every muscle twitched, and each nerve was on fire. Azi stirred. It didn’t like Michael to begin with, and his irritating banter only made things worse. I didn’t know how much longer I could keep it together.
“Yes or no?” I snapped, determined to get this moving.
“I will attempt to help you—but make no promises.”
Finally. Some good news. “And what do you want in exchange?” I didn’t need Heckle’s warning. There was no way this was happening out of the goodness of his heart.
“You’re assuming I want something. Why?”
“Nothing in life is free,” I countered. I wasn’t interested in playing games, and neither was Azi. “Just spit it the fuck out and get on with it.”
Michael tilted his head. His eyes went from me, to Sam, then back to the cuff. “And what will you do with the Pure if the cuff is removed and her life is spared?”
“If you’re asking if I plan to use her power, then the answer is no.”
“I know all about you, Jax Flynn.” He leaned a little closer. “And my old friend Azirak. A demon royal. Do you expect me to believe you have no intention of using the Pure to gain dominance for your side?”
“Yeah,” I growled. “I do.”
Michael turned to Sam, studying her. “I believe you,” he said after a minute. “But the demon does not share your restraint. It will use her. And because of
her love for you, she will allow it.”
“I’m not on either side,” Sam fired back. “I would never—”
“Aren’t you?” Michael stood and began to pace. “It is obvious that you don’t have a clear view of things.” He stopped and turned, pinning her with a cold stare. “Not of yourself. Not of Heckle.” He turned to me. “And not of him. Before I consider helping you, you’ll have to do something for me.”
I folded my arms and snorted. “Like I said…”
“I don’t require a trade, demon. Not yet. I simply ask that you see the truth and understand the situation, because what happens from here is monumentally important.”
“Important, how?” Sam asked. She was engrossed in the angel’s words, but I wasn’t fooled.
“Do you accept my proposal?”
“You haven’t told us what you wanted us to do,” I said, taking several steps closer to Sam.
Michael smiled, a lopsided grin that made Azi uneasy. “All I am asking is that you two observe. Watch and learn the truth.”
I looked from him to Sam, then back again. He was being purposefully vague. “The truth about what?”
“Yourselves, of course.”
Chapter Twelve
Sam
“Ourselves?” I looked from Michael to Jax, confused and uneasy.
The angel gave me what I supposed he considered a reassuring smile, but it was all tooth and had the opposite effect. It reminded me of Alice in Wonderland’s Cheshire Cat. Full of secrets and ulterior motives. “You have questions. I can feel them. Surely you want answers.”
“Just like that?” The tone of Jax’s voice said he wasn’t buying it, and I couldn’t say I blamed him. The deeper into this we got, the less clear it became who we could trust. It seemed everyone had their own agenda. “No one else is willing to give us these answers, but you are? Bullshit.”
Michael sighed. “Just like a demon. Untrusting and crass.”
I caught Jax’s gaze, silently pleading for him to ease up. This might be my only chance to get the cuff off. Maybe get some answers, too, like why I had been able to link us. Maybe I could figure out how to undo it before our combined emotions caused something catastrophic to happen. “What is it you want us to do?”
“Go on a journey, so to speak.”
“A journey?” Jax asked, suspicion tainting his voice. “Where? We don’t have time—”
“Not really a where, but a when.”
“When,” I repeated. Time travel? Was that what he was implying? Maybe living out here in the mountain air had short circuited his brain.
“Several whens, actually,” Michael said. “In order to understand the situation in which you currently find yourself, and those who wish to control your power, you must first understand your place in the scheme of things. Both of you. You must fully understand that each choice you make from this point potentially carries the weight of the world.”
The weight of the world? I couldn’t even manage to wash the dishes or pay the cable bill on time. “And what do we have to do, exactly?”
“Simply sit down and close your eyes. I will do the rest.”
I looked at Jax. Brows lowered in a scowl, he narrowed his eyes at our new friend. I knew just how he felt. I wasn’t thrilled with this idea, either. But this was the condition. If we didn’t do it, Michael wouldn’t help us remove the cuff. If the cuff wasn’t removed, it would kill me. Jax hadn’t admitted it outright, but I knew. Killing Malphi would be impossible. He insisted Azi would fight him, but the truth was far worse than that—the demon would never allow its mate to be killed. That meant Chase would never take the cuff off—or worse, he’d use it as a bargaining chip like Heckle said. I could feel it, getting tighter around my skin, constricting to suffocate out everything that I was.
No. This was our best chance. And if in the process we got answers to some of the questions Heckle refused to answer? That would be a bonus. “Okay,” I said. “Okay, we’ll do it.”
I waited for Jax to argue, but he simply took a seat next to me, the rock that he’d always been, and slipped his hand into mine.
“Now what?” he asked.
“Now,” Michael said with an eerie grin. He snapped his fingers. “It’s show time.”
A rush of panic rose like a tidal wave inside me. Out of nowhere, my eyelids grew leaden, and I felt as though my head had gained twenty pounds. It was far too heavy to keep up. I let it fall back against the cushion, and there was a sudden flash of white before everything went dark. Moments later, the light returned, but I wasn’t on the couch with Jax anymore. Michael was gone, too.
I was alone.
“Jax,” I called, worry bubbling up in the pit of my stomach. “Jax, where are you?”
There was no answer. I turned in the other direction and found myself in a familiar setting. Kelly and Rick’s houses sat twenty feet away, side by side, but something about them was off. Newer, I realized after a moment of staring. Less worn than they’d been yesterday. The Flynn house was the same horrible shade of mustard yellow it’d been when I’d moved in with Kelly. They’d repainted it blue when I was fourteen.
While I didn’t want to move forward without Jax, the chances of me finding him standing still were slim. I hurried across the street. It was dark out, and the stars shone bright and clear from a cloudless sky. Judging from the trees and flowerbeds, it was sometime in the late spring or early summer. Next door, Kelly’s rose bush was in bloom. She’d loved that smelly thing and had been crushed when the mailman backed over it six years ago.
I crept up to the Flynn house and stepped onto the porch. The door was open a few inches. I moved to slip inside, but something at the corner of the house caught my attention. A small dark haired boy was making his way into the backyard. I decided to follow.
He walked around the house, then settled on the picnic table between the two houses. I held my breath. He was looking straight ahead, but didn’t seem to see me. It made me braver. I held my breath and moved closer, stopping right beside the table. To be sure, I waved my hand in front of his face. Nothing.
The little boy pulled something out of his pocket. A small green thing. A turtle. He placed it on the table, then folded both feet beneath him and looked over at the house next door. Kelly’s house.
How had I not realized it right away? Jax. This was Jax. I’d never known of him having a pet turtle, though. At first I assumed it was before I’d come to live with Kelly, but movement in the window upstairs next door squashed that theory.
Jax sighed. “That’s her, Harvey,” he said, still looking up at the window. “Mrs. Merrick’s niece. She moved in today, after they buried her parents.” He looked down at the turtle as it slowly crawled across the table. “She’s like me and Chase. An orphan.”
The turtle got close to the edge, and Jax gingerly picked him up and set him back in the middle before resuming his inspection. “I met her today. Sorta. We didn’t talk or anything. She was sad. I liked her, though. She’s different. A lot like me.” He sniffled then let out a long breath. “Only not bad like I am. I heard what Dad said, Harvey. That I shouldn’t be allowed to live.” Another sniffle.
Jesus Christ. What the hell kind of person says something like that to a child? Jax never spoke much about his parents. He said he didn’t remember them, and that Rick had been the only father he’d ever known. After they’d died, he and Chase had been sent to live with Rick. The pain in his voice was far too much for a young boy, and the look in his eyes, a familiar spark of self-deprecation, made my heart hurt for him.
“I don’t wanna be bad, Harvey. I want to be her friend. She’s alone. I can tell. So am I,” he said. Fat tears gathered in the corners of his eyes, spilling over to roll down his cheeks. “But Dad said I have to. I’m bad and I don’t have a choice.” He sniffled once more, then swiped his eyes with the heel of his hand. A twist of determination showed in the hitch of his lip.
He stood and climbed onto the table, taking one last look at the window
of my bedroom before glancing down at the turtle crawling across the surface. It had ventured close to the edge again, so I assumed he’d pick it up and place it back in the middle of the table as he had before. Instead, he lifted his leg high. “I’m bad and I don’t have a choice,” he repeated, bringing his foot down hard onto the turtle. The scene was sickening. Crushing bits and a wet, wrong sound mingled with his crying.
I gasped, surprised by the sudden brutality of it. A second later, it all vanished.
Chapter Thirteen
Jax
“Sammy?” I tried again. No answer. If anything had happened to her, I would rip that bastard’s wings out feather by feather, then cram them up his ass one at a time.
Everything had gone dark, and when I was able to see again, I was in an unfamiliar living room. There were bright red flowers on all the tables and pictures on the mantel. I picked up the one closest to the edge. A blond woman and bald man, both smiling. I’d never seen them before. I set it down and moved to the next. The same couple, still smiling, only in addition there was a small dark-haired girl. Like them she was smiling, but there was a haunted look in her large brown eyes. I would have known it anywhere.
I would have known her anywhere.
In the picture, Sam was several years younger than when I met her. Four, maybe five years old. I didn’t know much about her parents, but seeing them together in the picture, I was struck by the lack of resemblance. From the color of her hair to the shape of her face, there was nothing similar.
“What are we supposed to do, Toni?” a man’s voice said.
I turned toward the sound and found that I was no longer alone. The same couple from the pictures now sat side by side on the couch behind me.
“Nothing, Paul,” the woman said. Her eyes were red-rimmed and swollen. “I had the lawyer double check the paper work. It’s ironclad. There’s nothing they can do to take her.”
The man wasn’t placated. He stood and began pacing, fingers knotted and fists shaking. “I’ll kill them, Toni. If they come and try to take her back, I’ll—”