The Beautiful Ashes

by Jeaniene Frost

  I looked away, staring at the online article that had shattered the last of my hopeful illusions. This whole time, I’d kept telling myself that if I found the weapon and saved Jasmine, I could go back to some semblance of my old life. I might not have had the greatest one, what with pretending more than actually living, but it had been my life to screw up or improve. Sure, once I was back, I’d have to avoid mirrors and move Jasmine and me from the WMU dorms to hallowed ground, but I could handle that. Eventually, I’d make new friends, maybe finish college online, get a decent job, and—

  And what? Go back to pretending that the dark, icy places I’d glimpsed were figments of my imagination? Hope that every new person I met wasn’t a minion in disguise? Even if demons hadn’t been behind the warrants for my arrest, what did I really think was going to happen if I saved Jasmine by decimating one of their realms? That the demons would call a truce and let my sister and me live in peace? No. We’d have to hide for the rest of our lives, and to do that, we’d have to leave everything and everyone we’d ever known behind.

  My head dropped into my hands. Adrian was right. Even if I won, I didn’t really win. The Archons did, but Jasmine and I were still screwed.

  “Is that what you really look like?”

  I picked my head up to see Costa staring at my computer, a half-eaten burger still in his hand. I glanced back at the article. My Facebook user pic was next to the part that talked about my abnormal psychosis.

  Was I still the smiling girl staring back at me? Right now, I felt decades older, but that wasn’t what Costa meant. I nodded, which needed no translation despite my Hound disguise.

  Costa let out a wry snort as he glanced at Adrian. “No wonder you’ve been having such a hard time, bro.”

  Was that a compliment? I looked at my picture again, trying to see it through the viewpoint of the handsome Greek. Okay, so I probably wasn’t as hot as I’d been with my blonde disguise, but my brown hair was thick enough not to need mousse, my eyes were a nice hazel shade and my mouth had a pouty kind of fullness. A guy I’d briefly dated had even called it lush.

  Then I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the screen. My hair looked like it had been styled by drunk witches, raccoons would be jealous of the dark circles under my eyes, and if my skin was any oilier, the shine would light up the room. I needed a hairbrush, concealer and lots of pressed powder, stat!

  Of course, that wasn’t possible. Even if it was, Costa would only laugh at the image of a Hound trying to primp. As for Adrian...the best makeover in the world couldn’t fix our issues. Only a broken destiny could, and while I still believed that was possible, Adrian didn’t. Not now and maybe not ever.

  “I need to see my sister.”

  Costa didn’t react to my statement, but Adrian froze in the middle of picking up a burger.

  “Ivy,” he began.

  “I so don’t want to hear it.” The words came out as a sigh despite my screaming on the inside. “You want me to embrace the suck? Fine, but I’m also finished with guessing if I’m weapon-hunting for Jasmine, or for you.”

  He dropped the burger and stalked over. “What do you mean?”

  I met his gaze without flinching. “You don’t want me entering the Bennington realm without the weapon, but is that because you’re worried about extra demon security? Or because you’re afraid that if I find out my sister’s already dead, I’ll stop looking for it and you’ll lose your chance at killing Demetrius?”

  Anger suffused his face, flushing his cheeks and turning his eyes into burning gems. “Is that what you think?”

  Costa glanced between us. “You two fighting?”

  “What’s the only thing you told me I could trust about you, Adrian?” My voice was flat from the weight of my desolate future bearing down on me. “Your hatred of demons. So I’m supposed to believe you wouldn’t string me along about my sister’s survival to keep me looking for the one weapon that can kill them?”

  Adrian’s hands closed into fists while he stared at me. The last time he’d done that, he’d grabbed me and kissed me, but something darker than passion seethed in him now.

  “Get your stuff,” he said in a voice that vibrated from barely controlled rage. “We’re leaving for Bennington tonight.”

  chapter thirty

  “This is a bad idea,” Costa said for the eleventh time.

  Adrian and I responded the same way we had to his other ten warnings—with stony silence. We were too busy playing our high-stakes version of “chicken” to let Costa deter us. Adrian was counting on me changing my mind about entering the world’s most dangerous demon realm, and I was betting he’d refuse to pull me through the gateway when the time came.

  We’d see who swerved first.

  “Obsidiana’s seen your ride, so you can’t drive this into town without every minion knowing who you are,” Costa went on, not giving up his attempt to talk sense into us. “This is a mint-condition, ’68 Challenger, so it’s gonna draw some eyes.”

  “We’ll leave it outside Bennington,” Adrian replied, the tightness in his tone saying he was still steaming mad.

  “And do what with the hulking demon lizard in the backseat?” Costa shot back, adding, “Sorry, Ivy,” as an afterthought.

  Adrian didn’t even glance my way. “We’ll hide her in something else.”

  Costa cast a dubious look over his shoulder. “It’ll need to be something big.”

  My lips tightened. “Enough with the fat-lizard cracks,” I snapped, hoping the hiss Costa heard sounded as pissy as I felt.

  “This is a bad idea,” Costa muttered once again. Apparently he was going for an even dozen.

  “The gateway’s inside the B and B, but your sister won’t be there anymore,” Adrian stated, not glancing away from the road even though he was now talking to me. “The spot where it’s located was swallowed recently, after Demetrius took over the realm. She’ll be in old Bennington. That and parts of New York got swallowed a long time ago, so that’s where his palace is.”

  “I don’t remember glimpsing a palace when I went through Bennington.” Then again, I’d been focused on showing Jasmine’s picture to hotel and motel employees, not on paying attention to what I thought were hallucinations.

  Adrian grunted. “It’s there.”

  Every realm I’d entered had had a grand structure, and Adrian hadn’t been wrong about his realm blueprints yet, but something about his tone made his surety sound more...personal.

  “You lived there before, didn’t you?” I guessed.

  His eyes briefly met mine before he returned his militant attention to the road. “For a long time, I ruled it.”

  Anger shot through me. Of course, he’d failed to mention that before.

  “You’re only a few years older than me, so it couldn’t have been that long, Adrian. Unless you were a toddler king.”

  “If I’m guessing right about where this conversation’s going, it’s time she knew anyway,” Costa muttered, giving Adrian a sympathetic look.

  “Knew what?” I asked curtly.

  Adrian’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. “I told you time moves differently in the realms. Once I was old enough to fight, Demetrius made sure I lived in realms where time almost froze to a stop so he’d have plenty of it to perfect my training. I might only look a few years older than you, Ivy, but I was born in 1873.”

  My mind froze while doing the math. Adrian couldn’t—just could not!—be over a hundred and forty.

  “No,” I croaked.

  Costa reached around to pat my head. “I know it’s hard to take in. When Adrian got me out and I realized fifty years had passed over here, I had trouble adjusting—”

  “How old are you?” I burst out before remembering he couldn’t understand me.

  “Costa’s seventy-three, or se
venty-four, I guess.” Adrian gave his friend a humorless smile. “Forgot your birthday.”

  Denial still had me in a fierce grip. “But Tomas’s family is still alive! We sent Hoyt to them so he could recover!”

  “Those were his grandkids, Ivy,” Adrian said, sparing another glance my way. “Didn’t you notice the old clothing his parents wore in the photographs in Tomas’s room?”

  I had, but I’d thought his family had just liked to wear more, um, quaint apparel.

  “You’re really a hundred and forty?” Call me slow, but I needed to hear him confirm it one more time.

  “Yes.”

  I angled my head so I could see him more fully, as if he’d look different now that I knew his true age. He didn’t, of course. Same piercing sapphire eyes, curving brows, high cheekbones, sensually full mouth and strong jaw, all making up a face that left gorgeous behind in the dust. Considering that face was on top of a body so built that it could make a superhero jealous, Adrian’s looks were unforgettable.

  So was this revelation. He hadn’t just spent his childhood and teen years living with demons. He’d spent nearly a century and a half with them. No wonder Demetrius had referred to Adrian’s working for Zach as a “little rebellion.” It barely registered next to the staggering length of time he’d lived in the realms as the demons’ prophesied savior.

  I understood then, more than I ever had before, the absolute assurance that Demetrius, Zach and even Adrian had that he couldn’t avoid his destiny. How could a few weeks of being attracted to me compare with thirteen decades of being groomed to betray the last Davidian? It’s not like Adrian was trying to kick a recent bad habit—he’d literally spent a couple of lifetimes training so he could bring about my doom!

  And I’d pretty much done everything I could to help him, I realized with a scald of self-recrimination. Even now, I was insisting that Adrian take me to a realm where his demonic foster father and a few hundred of his closest evil friends waited. A realm Adrian had admitted he’d once ruled over, and where he could now return as the conquering betrayer.

  All I needed to do was slap a bow on my ass to make myself the perfect, too-stupid-to-live sacrifice.

  “Having second thoughts, Ivy?”

  Adrian’s voice broke through my crushing musings. His accent was as darkly alluring as ever, but it was a demon accent. When I met his gaze, those gemstone-colored eyes held their usual mixture of brooding danger, but who was his veiled violence aimed at? The girl he was destined to destroy, or the demons he’d told me he intended to take down?

  After all, they wanted the weapon, too. I’d bet Demetrius and the rest of them would consider the minions Adrian had killed as acceptable losses if he delivered the slingshot—and me—to them in the end. What if all the times Adrian had saved me were just so I’d willingly lead him to the powerful weapon that his demonic brethren needed? What if all his claims to care about me were only so I’d run headlong into my own betrayal? In short—what if the only time Adrian had been telling me the truth was when he told me not to trust him?

  “Yes, I’m having second thoughts,” I said hoarsely.

  “Tell me she said yes,” Costa muttered. “Because this—”

  “Is a bad idea,” I finished, though only Adrian understood me. “Costa’s right. Let’s stop off somewhere. I, ah, don’t feel so hot all of a sudden.”

  Adrian shot a suspicious look my way, but my stomach gurgled as if in agreement. Either he heard it or decided not to push me, because he turned off the highway at the next exit.

  I drew in a deep breath, trying to force back the clenching in my gut that came from fear, anger, and a very real sense of betrayal. Despite all his warnings, I had trusted him. Hell, I’d done more than that. The rest of my ancestors might have been drawn to Judians out of compassion or the belief that darkness could be overcome by light, but I’d allowed myself to fall for Adrian, making me the stupidest Davidian to ever walk the earth.

  My teeth ground together. Fine. I might have been the most gullible person in my ancient, illustrious ancestry, but that ended right now. I’d make sure my sister was alive and if so, I would find that weapon. I’d just do it without Adrian.

  But first, I had to find a way to get away from him.

  chapter thirty-one

  Adrian rented only one room at the Motel 6. We had enough money and Archon-blessed oil for more, so I guessed he intended us to just grab a few hours’ sleep before we hit the road again.

  The single room worked for me, but for different reasons. I’d come up with a plan. Not a great one, but I couldn’t think of anything else in the short time I had. Adrian parked around the back of the hotel to hide my monstrous disguise from other guests, and once I’d been hustled inside the room, he followed his usual protocol. That meant drawing the drapes and then sprinkling the interior with holy oil to render the room temporarily hallowed.

  I waited until Adrian took his turn in the bathroom before I wrote on the little pad of paper every hotel room seemed to have. Then I handed it to Costa, hoping my Hound disguise didn’t somehow screw up the words he saw on the page.

  Need to talk to Adrian alone. Give us a couple of hours?

  Relief washed over me when Costa nodded, then crumpled up the page, tossing it into the trash.

  “Gonna go clear my head, bro,” Costa called out, grabbing some money from the duffel bag. “I’ll be at the bar next door.”

  He left before Adrian could argue. Or maybe he wouldn’t have. When Adrian emerged from the bathroom, his expression was serious and water clung to his hairline, as though he’d splashed some on his face while he was in there.

  I sat on one of the double beds, suddenly finding it hard to look him in the eye. Knowing what I had to do didn’t make doing it any easier.

  “I know you’re not really sick,” Adrian stated, his gaze searching mine as he came nearer. “Just upset. Is it from finding out my real age, or because I used to rule the Bennington realm?”

  “Both,” I admitted. A surge of anger made me able to look at him fully. “After the new section was swallowed, was it your idea to restore the bed-and-breakfast on this side so minions could use it like a Venus flytrap?”

  That must have been how Jasmine had been taken. None of the other Bennington hotel employees had recognized her picture. How simple it would’ve been for Mrs. Paulson to make all records of Jasmine’s stay at the B and B disappear. Add in more minions on the police force to take care of any snooping family, and it was the perfect setup for funneling humans into the demon realm.

  “No, that was Demetrius’s idea,” Adrian replied, sitting on the bed opposite mine. “But he’s not alone. Demons have rackets like that all over the world. Hotels, guided tours, boat rentals, chauffeur services...any business that gets people alone and vulnerable, there’s a chance a minion’s planted in it.”

  “And nobody cares.” My snort was bitter. “People like Jasmine disappear every day, and the world shrugs because she’s not their sister.” Pain sharpened my voice as I added, “Or daughter. Minions killed my parents, too, didn’t they?”

  Adrian sighed before running his hand through his hair. “Probably. They’d be considered too old to be decent slaves, and if they were making waves over her disappearance, their having an ‘accident’ would be the simplest solution.”

  I stared at him, silently daring him to look away. “Then I showed up making more waves, but I’m young, so they tried to make me a slave instead.”

  “Yes,” he said, his gaze boring into mine while varying emotions flitted across his features. Disgust, anger and the most telling of all. Guilt.

  “You did that to people, too.” My accusation filled the space between us, creating an invisible barrier that seemed to grow with every second.

  “Yes, I did.” Something too bitter to be a smile twisted his mouth
. “I told you, for a while, the demons had convinced me that humans were no better than they were. Just more hypocritical, because on this side, human slavers, murderers and oppressors were called dictators, kings and presidents, if they did it to enough people. Only the humans who did it to just a few were called criminals.”

  “Our race has issues,” I acknowledged, still holding his stare. “Doesn’t excuse what you or the rest of them did.”

  “No, Ivy, it doesn’t,” he replied, his voice very soft. “And I see the faces of everyone I harmed whenever I close my eyes. That’s why I started working for Zach. Every person I save feels like washing a drop of blood from my hands, but deep down, I know I’ll never even the score. Some things can’t be atoned for, and all the lives I’ve saved will never restore the ones I’ve taken or ruined.”

  I wanted to believe the regret resonating in his tone. Wanted to trust the pain etched on his features, or the look in his eyes that seemed to urge me to revile him for all the things he reviled himself for. But Jasmine’s life—and mine—hung in the balance, so I couldn’t trust him. He’d told me that enough times, and this time, I’d believe him.

  I looked away and forced out a shaky laugh. “I don’t know about you, but I could really use a beer. Aren’t there still some that didn’t get used for target practice in the trunk?”

  He didn’t say anything. I sneaked a glance at him. Adrian still sat exactly as he had been, his elbows braced on his legs while he leaned forward. The only thing new was his frown.

  “After everything I just said, your response is to start drinking?”

  More than a hint of disbelief tinged his tone. I scrambled for a convincing reply and found myself answering with the truth. Part of it, anyway.

  “You might want to keep stewing over all the horrible things in your past, but I want to move forward. Right now, that involves getting a drink.”

  A slight snort escaped him. “Guess there are worse ways to move on with our lives.”