Ruined

by Jus Accardo

“I’m serious.” I crossed the room and knelt in front of her chair. It was impossible to miss the way she tensed, shrinking away as though I might try to take a bite out of her. I adjusted, rocking back a few inches to give her some room. “You’re worrying me.”

  That got her attention. She rose from the seat and moved closer to the door. “I’m worrying you? Really?”

  I stood. This was better. A fight I knew how to deal with. “You know what—”

  She held a hand up. Some of the fear in the room dissipated and I fought a grin as the gray quickly turned to all crimson. How many girls—hell, people—would hold their shit together after what had just happened? Sam was strong, but it wasn’t until that moment that I realized how strong. She called herself a coward, so ashamed of her darkest fears, but obviously she didn’t see things clearly.

  “I’m going to ask questions. You’re going to answer. We clear?”

  I nodded. The truth. It was something I feared and revered. On one hand, it might make her stay away. That’s what I wanted. To shield her from the thing that lived inside of me. On the other hand, even though it was selfish and irresponsible, I wanted to find some way to keep her in my life. That alone proved what a bastard I was. If I cared about her at all, I’d never look back.

  “That man that attacked us—his eyes were—” She took in a shaky breath as a spike of fear rose from her shoulders. Not a clouded smoky gray, but a dark ash color. Terror. “Was he human?”

  Again, she caught me off guard me. Here Sam was pulling the short straw of crazy—and doing it with a straight face. “No.”

  If the answer surprised her, it didn’t show. In fact, she seemed oddly vindicated. “If he wasn’t human, what was he?”

  “A demon,” I said without hesitation. There was no point in sugar coating things. Sam was a big girl and she was in over her head. It was only fair to let her know how far. The quicker she accepted it, the easier it would be to get to the bottom of this shit.

  “A demon,” she repeated, starting to pace. The set of her shoulders turned rigid and worry creased her forehead. “You’re saying that man—”

  “It wasn’t a man, Sammy. It wasn’t a he. It was a demon.”

  She stopped pacing and whirled on me. “This is insane…”

  Might as well let her have all of it. “It’s all connected. I think the attack at your apartment, and all the others, were related to what happened on the Huntington campus. You’re under attack, but I don’t believe it’s just one person.”

  She froze, her expression a mix of bewilderment and fear. “You just— A demon— No. Just, no. You can’t possibly know that for sure!”

  “I do—”

  “You’re insane.”

  Time for blow number two. I reached into the pocket of my coat and pulled out the bracelet I’d taken from the demon’s apartment. Setting it down on the table, I took a step away. “You lost that the night you were attacked, didn’t you?”

  Six deep breaths. I watched the rise and fall of her chest, and the flutter of her eyes as she pinched the bridge of her nose. The ashen cloud swirled frantically above her head. She crossed the room and stopped a few feet from the table, eyes glued to the delicate red-and-black leather jewelry on its surface. Picking up the bracelet, Sam held it as though at any moment it might come alive and take a chunk out of her. “I—where did you find this?”

  “I think it was the apartment of the one who attacked you on campus. Or, at least, it was staying there. I picked up more than one scent.”

  Sam was pale. She backed away from the table and sank onto the bed. “How did you find that?”

  “It doesn’t matter. What matters is, we’ve got a big problem. The one who attacked you wants you dead, Sammy. I don’t know who, and I can’t figure out why, but I know what we’re up against, and it’s not pretty.”

  “What we’re up against? You mean the men who tried to throw me off the cliff? Is it the mob or something?”

  I knew Sam’s breaking point, and it was obvious she was closing in on it, but I needed to tell her the truth. “They were demons. Same as the thing that broke into your apartment. The attack at Huntington, the cliff, and I’m willing to bet my right hand, all the others, too.”

  “Demons,” she repeated. “You’re telling me demons are after me. Trying to kill me. That right?”

  “I know this is hard to accept, but—”

  “No. No. This is easy. All makes tons of sense. Demons. Demons want me dead.” She rolled her eyes and ran both hands through her hair, pausing for a moment to tug at the roots. A nervous habit. With a determined nod, she stood. “Let’s go.”

  “Go? Go where?”

  Her eyes were wide. “The police. These bastards tried to kill me. The cops need to know about that. You said you know where one of them lives. They can pick him up.”

  “Sammy, you’re forgetting an important fact.”

  She just stared at me.

  “The man that attacked you wasn’t a man. It was a demon. Going to the cops won’t do anything. Something tells me the government hasn’t started issuing demon-hunting tools to the local police.”

  “Forgetting for a second that I’m actually going to ask this out loud, why would a demon—I’m sorry, demons, plural—attack me?”

  “I really don’t know. Most feed on pain and violence, but there’s plenty of that to go around. There’s no reason to hunt any one particular human to get it.” I hesitated. “Honestly, I’m really not sure what we’re up against. When I was at the apartment I found three other bodies.”

  She paled by the minute. “Bodies—”

  “They’d been there a while.”

  “As in, dead? Corpses?”

  “Yes.” I frowned.

  “So, I have an entire demon army after me?”

  Motherfucker…

  The demon in the bathroom of the dive bar said something about being a soldier. “We’ll figure this out. I promise.”

  She squared her shoulders and said, “And you? You seem to know a hell of a lot about this shit. That thing called you Son of Cain. And your eyes…” Some of her color returned. “Next you’ll tell me you’re some kind of chosen, once-in-a-generation demon slayer? Is that right?”

  I waggled my eyebrows. Inappropriate timing? Yep. But I wanted to lighten the mood. Besides, she brought it out in me. “Would you think it was sexy if I said yes?”

  “Yeah. You’re a regular Buffy—or would it be Angel?”

  “Angel was a pussy. I’d be more of a Spike. He was a true badass.” I sighed and nudged her back. “The truth is…” God. Did I really want to go through with this? Lay all my cards on the table and hope it didn’t scare the shit out of her? Once I went through that door there was no turning back.

  “Jax?”

  I squeezed my eyes closed and silently counted to ten, before opening them and turning to face her. I needed to see her reaction. “I’m one, too. A demon—partially, anyway.” Azirak stirred, fighting for control. “I’m cursed. I’ve got this thing living inside me. Azirak. This—”

  Sam fell back against the wall and slid to the floor. The expression on her face nearly broke me in two. Fear and pain, mingling with the almost bitter taste of betrayal, filled the small room.

  “This isn’t happening.” She let her head fall between her knees and covered the top of it with her arms. “I’m asleep. Having another nightmare.”

  I stayed where I was even though every impulse screamed to gather her into my arms and hold her until this all went away. In another lifetime, maybe that would be possible. In this one? It was nothing more than a fantasy getting in the way of the cold, hard truth. “I wish that’s what this was. I wish I could tell you that you’ll wake up tomorrow and it’ll all be a dream, but it’s not. This is some serious shit, Sammy, and for whatever reason, you’re stuck in the middle of it.”

  She uncurled, shaking her head from side to side slowly. “His eyes,” she whispered. Her face paled. “I couldn’t figure it out
at the time. Why they looked so familiar.”

  “Familiar? What are you talking about?”

  She didn’t look up at me. “I buried the memory when we buried my parents.” Her gaze rose to meet mine. There were tears in her eyes. “It’s all real.”

  “Sammy, what memory?”

  “My parents. The man that killed them—”

  I took a step toward her but she flinched and I froze. She couldn’t mean… “Are you saying a demon killed your parents?”

  She nodded. “Yes.” Then a second later, shook her head. “No—I think so? I’m not sure what I’m saying because what I’m saying is insane. But I remember his eyes. They were the same bottomless void.”

  It all made sense. For her to have believed what I told her about a demon, there had to be a reason. “Sammy—”

  “I was knocked over the edge. You jumped and grabbed me and broke my fall. A fall that should have killed us both. And the car. At the bottom of the river. I would have drowned. And your eyes…” There was so much pain in her expression. A flicker of betrayal and a ton of hurt mixed with a hint of fear. “You’re like the others? A demon?”

  Something inside me shattered. She was looking at me like I was responsible for the most horrific moments of her life. It was worse than any hunger pang the demon could inflict. “I am a demon,” I said softly. “But like I said, it’s not the same. I’m more…complicated.”

  “Tell me,” she said. The gray smoke around her head lightened, but didn’t dissipate. “Explain to me how you’re different from that black-eyed thing that just tried to kill me. Please,” she begged. “Tell me how you’re different from the monster that killed my parents.”

  The desperation in her voice swept me away and the words came before I could give them any thought. “I could break you. Snap your bones like they were nothing more than twigs. Hell, part of me wants to because it’s what the thing inside me feeds on. Fear. Anger. Rage. Violence… Those are the only things that keep it calm. Under control.” I stepped close to her, and when she didn’t pull away, bent low and cupped the side of her face, letting my thumb trail lightly along her bottom lip. “But I won’t. That’s the difference between that thing and me, Sammy. I won’t hurt you. I would never hurt you.”

  Except I had. Hurt her. I’d hurt her in ways I could never take back. The gray around her darkened until it was solid black. Confusion. She let her head fall forward into her hands. “I need to think.”

  “What you need is to pay attention. These things slaughter people for food and fun. They’re ruthless and without conscience and there is nowhere on this earth you can go to run from them if they want you dead.” Although the revelation about how her parents really died was raw and I hated glossing over it, there was no time to break down now. This was bigger than just a single demon.

  She didn’t move. Didn’t pick her head up or budge from the floor. It almost looked like she’d stopped breathing. A moment later, she lifted her gaze to meet mine. “Fine. Show me.”

  “Show you?”

  Sam uncurled and stood, squaring her shoulders and taking a step toward me. “Your demonic powers. Show me what you can do.”

  “You want me to— How am I supposed to do that?”

  More of the gray faded. “Should be easy. Smite something. Pull a rabbit out of a hat.”

  “Smite something? I’m not God, Sammy.”

  She waved offhandedly and stood, coming several steps closer. “Whatever. I’m sure there’s something impressive in your demon arsenal.”

  “It doesn’t work that way. This thing inside me? It’s dangerous. I can’t drag it out to do magic tricks.”

  She eyed me. “You just told me you weren’t dangerous. Make up your mind.”

  Shit. Everything with her was so much fucking harder. Twisted in a way I couldn’t possibly unravel. “I’m not dangerous. Not to you.”

  “But you are dangerous? To other people?”

  I wasn’t sure how to answer. Now that she might be on the verge of turning away for good, the truth burned a hole in my gut. But other than the demonic secret I’d kept, I’d never lied to Sam. “Yes,” I said. “Sometimes I’m dangerous to other people.”

  She pushed past me and bolted out the door. I didn’t stop her. She needed to be alone to process all this shit? Fine. I’d give her the illusion of being alone. Grabbing my coat, I slipped from the room, locking the door behind me.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Sam

  By now, someone had to have seen the broken window and called the landlord. The only reason the old man agreed to rent to me was because I swore I’d be no trouble. Forget wild parties. Having a guy show up and attack me, then bust up the place, defined trouble.

  So instead of going home, I took a cab to Kelly’s. My aunt had left this morning for some weeklong bingo retreat, so I had the house to myself. I kicked off my shoes, curled into a ball on the couch, and closed my eyes.

  Bad idea.

  My father’s death had been quick. A broken neck. But my mother’s death… The man—the demon—had played with her. The sick sounds of pleasure, laughing in amusement as my mother begged for mercy, were impossible to tune out. I’d heard everything. Seen everything. It was all coming back.

  My strange attacker. My parents’ killer. Jax…

  And what about Jax?

  Demons were all bad guys, right? That’s what folklore and religion said. They went around causing chaos. Eating babies, stealing virgins, murdering parents. The look in Jax’s eyes when he faced that other demon had been deadly. Rage so primal that it gave me chills. But he wasn’t evil. He couldn’t be. All he’d ever done was take care of me. When I was at my worst, he pulled me from the darkness. Time and time again, Jax had been there.

  Answers. I needed answers.

  But where did you go to research demons? Asking Jax was out of the question—for now. Then I knew. Who was the best person to ask about the devil?

  God.

  It was close to 9:00 a.m. by the time I reached Saint Vincent’s church. Double mocha latte in hand, I climbed the narrow stairs and pushed through the ornate double doors as a knot formed in my stomach. The cavernous room was empty, lit with a thousand tiny candles along either side. The rows of polished pews sat like soldiers, lined up and waiting. It hadn’t changed at all.

  The floor was carpeted, but I still heard each step as my feet carried me farther inside. Clomp. Clomp. Clomp. It’d been thirteen years since I’d been in this church. Thirteen years, three months, twelve days. Not a day went by that I didn’t think about it. The day they put my parents in the ground.

  The memories flooded back despite my best efforts to shelve them. Sitting in the front row with Aunt Kelly, staring at the two large boxes containing my parents’ bodies. The kind but scripted words the priest spoke as half the town looked on. The white and blue flowers covering every inch of the altar. My first glimpse of Chase and Jax, who’d been seated beside Rick several pews behind.

  “Can I help you?” A man’s voice broke the spell.

  I turned, thankful. Memories of that day only led to thinking about the events that made it necessary. There’d been more than enough of that today. Coming down the aisle toward me was a tall, white-haired priest. “I, ah, was hoping I could talk to someone.”

  The priest smiled and gestured toward the confessional at the back of the room. “Confession starts in an hour, but I have a few moments if you’d like to beat the rush.” He winked. “It gets crazy in here. Yesterday we had to pull apart two elderly women.”

  Huh. A priest with a sense of humor. That would definitely help.

  “No, nothing like that. I actually had some questions.”

  He stepped back and slid into the nearest pew, sliding down to make room. “Oh?”

  I followed suit and took a deep breath. “Demons.”

  “Ah. We all have our demons. Drugs, violence, sex—”

  “Um, no.” God, I felt like a moron. “I mean, like, real demons.”r />
  His expression changed. “I see.”

  I wanted to run from the building and never look back, but I needed answers. “Are they real? Demons, I mean.”

  His right eye twitched, and it was plain to see he was trying to cover up a smile. “Do you believe yourself possessed?”

  Okay. Now he was making fun of me. “Of course not.” I shifted in the seat. What I needed was an excuse. “I’m an intern over at the Harlow Journal,” I lied. “I’m helping with some research.”

  His eyebrows rose. “On demons?”

  “There’s this whole demon worship thing going around some of the college campuses along the Eastern Seaboard. I’m trying to get some basic information about lore and stuff.”

  He thought about it for a moment, and just when I was sure he’d dismiss me as a liar, he frowned and said, “As sure as there is a God in heaven, there are demons. Yes. I believe them to be real.”

  “And they’re all evil, right?”

  He leaned back in the pew. “Evil is a relative term. Are people truly evil?”

  “Um, is that a trick question?”

  He smiled. “There’s no handbook. Much of these things go on faith. I don’t believe there is black or white, only shades of gray. Demons exist to tempt us into evil. Angels exist to tempt us into good. Who’s to say the right angel couldn’t tempt a demon? Or vice versa? I believe they’re the subtle whispers we hear in our daily battles with morality. ”

  “So they’re not fanged, drooling monsters?”

  He glanced over his shoulder, then turned back to me. “Not all of my brethren would agree with my beliefs, but no. I don’t think so. In fact, it’s my opinion that you wouldn’t even realize if you walked into one on the street.”

  “So you think they’re here. Out there walking around?”

  He hesitated, then sighed. “There are many stories, mythology if you will, depicting the path of demonkind after God cast them from heaven. Some believe they reigned in hell, while others insist they were cursed to walk the earth for all eternity.” The priest leaned back, a mischievous look in his eyes. “I met a man once who insisted he was one of the first cast aside, and sat in place of honor in hell, at Lucifer’s right hand. Whether it was true or not is a mystery, but he spun an intriguing tale.”