What I didn’t expect to find was Iona sprawled out on the forest floor, Moira’s boot planted on her sternum.
Chapter 8
“What part of mated male did you not understand the first time, blondie?” Moira snapped. Iona tried to sit up and Moira’s boot pressed down harder. Fire swirled in the depths of her blue pentagram eyes.
“Rys—what is she—” Iona only rasped half her sentence when Moira stomped again, forcing the air from her lungs as she ground her boot into the flimsy homemade shirt.
“Do not look at him. Do not speak to him. He is your nothing,” she growled in a voice that made the beast proud. “I don’t give a shit who you are, but you will not come between my girl and her men—”
“Moira.” My voice cut through the crowd like blades against paper. “Get. Off. Her.”
“She disrespects you knowing that he’s mated—”
“It is not her place to respect that bond. It’s his, and that is something he and I will deal with later.”
I could feel Rysten’s eyes on me. Sense his panic as I purposely didn’t spare him a glance. They’d turned my life upside down and inside out, but I didn’t grovel. I didn’t beg. If he wanted me, then it was on him to fix this. That didn’t mean I needed to ream him in public. This was no one’s business but our own.
Moira lifted her boot from the demon’s sternum and crossed her arms over her chest with a huff. Iona scrambled to her feet and dusted off her basic clothing, eyeing me with apprehension. “You have his brand…”
She was confused. Hurt. There was more than a little spite in her voice to cover it up. Envy too. I chose to ignore it.
“And he has mine, but that is neither here nor there.” I kept my voice clipped and my expression detached. After all, they weren’t here by happenstance. I had to play along, but that didn’t mean I had to be friendly. “Who are you and what do you want?” Her lips fell ajar as if surprised by my straightforwardness.
With a heavy sigh she readjusted her stance to a slightly more defensive posture. Her chin lifted and the self-importance of it all had me…bored and annoyed. I was so over the mean girl shit.
“I am Iona LeGrase, the Deadly Sin of Envy’s niece.”
I blinked as she extended a claw-tipped hand that had Moira stepping in front of me with a growl.
“If you so much as scratch her, goldilocks—”
“I think she gets the point.” I squeezed her shoulder causing Moira to turn her chin up. I shook my head once, and she furrowed her brows but stepped away. My best friend’s instincts were right not to trust her, but I couldn’t tell her that. Not if I wanted to find out the truth about who was after me.
“I’m Ruby Morningstar, and this is my familiar, Moira.”
“I’m also a legion and a banshee. I wouldn’t try anything if I were you,” she said with a purse of her lips.
Iona appraised her distastefully, a tendril of apprehension running through her before she said, “Welcome to the family.”
Swallowing down the painful emotions riding me, I lifted my hand to hers and clasped it. She was stronger than me, but for what she had in strength I made up for in fire. My palm grew warm as I let the flames play just beneath my skin. Not enough to burn her, but enough to feel the heat as she tried to crush my fingers.
A bead of sweat dotted her brow when she released me. I kept my expression cool. Civil.
“She’s only speaking metaphorically,” Rysten said with a piercing look in her direction. I lifted an eyebrow without looking at him and a slight blush darkened his skin. “The Sins, apart from you mother, never had children. Merula formed a very close relationship with Iona’s mother.”
“They were practically sisters before she died,” Iona added bitterly.
“I see…” The words hung there, not hostile, but not exactly friendly. I ignored Rysten’s eyes that pleaded with me to understand their complicated histories, just as much as I ignored Iona’s calculated gaze. At the end of the day I didn’t particularly care if we shared blood or not. Moira and Bandit were my family. The Horsemen were. This girl—she was a stranger trying to kill me. I needed to get closer to her, but I didn’t particularly want to understand her. It was easier that way.
“This is all fine and well,” Allistair interrupted, “but what are you doing all the way outside Rieka?” His eyes narrowed slightly as he took her in. I didn’t miss the way his posture remained stiff.
“Hunting,” the girl answered, giving him only half her attention. The other half was on my Horseman. Rysten. The beast growled, warning me that if Iona didn’t keep her hands and eyes to herself that the not-so-friendly alter-ego of mine was going to deliver the warning in person. With a punch to the cunt.
“What do you mean by hunting?” Moira asked before someone else could cut in. Iona regarded her with enough animosity that I felt the need to step a little closer to my best friend.
“I mean that Hell is on fire and half the planet is in chaos, Rieka included. Lust crumbled first, and Greed wasn’t far behind it once the borders destabilized. The Sins went into hiding, leaving the rest of us to fend for ourselves.” Iona waved to the group of demons around her. “This is all that’s left of Sector Forty-Nine.”
I swallowed and refused to look away even as the guilt leaked in. She could be a liar about everything, but I knew first-hand how destructive the flames were when I lost control and destroyed my own tattoo parlor.
“Why didn’t you go to Inferna?” Allistair asked.
“It’s full,” she answered. “Lust was given the order to evacuate first and by the time the fire reached Rieka, it was too late.”
“Surely your aunt would have made room for you. Since you’re close enough to be family,” Moira commented. Iona looked like she just drank piss the way her lips twisted, and eyes brightened.
“She’s the leader of a province,” Iona snapped. “She doesn’t get to play favorites. Something you might know if you were from here.”
Funny how she didn’t seem this snappy about me being Satan’s kid until Moira threw her on the ground for kissing Rysten. I wondered how much of her being here was for me and how much was for him. I supposed we’d find out soon enough.
“I didn’t grow up with a silver spoon up my ass. Sorry if I don’t understand how it works.” Moira threw her hands in the air and I groaned.
“Moira, why don’t you go sit with Jax and see if you can get him to change back. I don’t think they’re going to attack us now...” I turned to Iona. “Are you?”
She gave me a flippant look but spoke clearly. “No. We never intended to hurt you. We just needed to make sure you weren’t here to mean harm.”
“Interesting way of showing it...” Moira muttered. I cleared my throat and she blew out a breath, stalking off towards the shaking enigma-hellhound.
“She’s got a point,” Laran said. “Holding weapons to us is not the best way to show peace. Even I know that.” The corners of my lips turned up as War slipped an arm over my shoulders. Iona looked anything but peaceful in the way she watched Moira leave.
“When Rieka burned, neighbors turned on each other,” she said slowly, her voice far calmer than the look in her eyes. “You were just as likely to be stabbed for the shirt on your back while walking down the street as you were to find someone that would help you. I won’t apologize for being vigilant when you’re this close to one of the two ways in and out of the Garden.”
“It’s still open?” Julian asked.
“It is. Only path not on fire that leads through to Inferna,” she answered, baiting us.
“Funny that, we’re headed there right now,” I said before anyone else could answer. If she was going to try to lure us, I may as well let her think I was naïve and didn’t see through the subterfuge. I’d been feeling out of my depth to a certain extent ever since we arrived in Hell, but bitches certainly made it feel like home.
I wondered how much of this was personal for her and how much was the unknown face that�
��s been following me since Portland, trying to kill me at every turn.
“I can’t guarantee you passage through the Garden, but if you’re here to fix this mess, the least I can let you do is stay through the night.” The creeping sensation along my spine had me on edge. I already knew not to trust her. I was walking into the viper’s nest with eyes wide open.
So why did it feel like there was something I was still missing?
“That would be great,” I said before I took the time to reconsider the decision. Sin said if I went along, I’d find my answers. No matter how much I hated the looks she continued to give Rysten, nothing was stopping me from searching for the truth.
Not fear. Not Rysten. Not even love itself.
“If we stay with you, do we have your word that you mean no harm?” Laran asked.
“You do.” Her voice resonated with a truth, but as we moved to pack up our camp, a sliver of emotion escaped through her nonchalance. I tilted my head to the side. It felt like...regret?
It was gone so fast I almost thought I imagined it.
Almost.
Chapter 9
Epona’s side brushed against me reassuringly. On her back sat Bandit, gnawing his way through the straps. He wasn’t the biggest fan of the other demons and given that he wore the devil’s mark, they weren’t fans of him either.
Not that it stopped him from snapping at anyone that stepped a little too close to me or the horse. He seemed to be growing an attachment to her, one that I hadn’t expected given her massive size. She was a gentle soul, though, which was strange given whose familiar she was.
A cool hand pressed against my elbow as a slim arm hooked around it. The scent of peppermint floated over me as Moira leaned in to whisper, “I don’t trust her.”
“Me neither,” I muttered, trying not to pay too much attention to how closely Iona walked beside Rysten. Jealousy. Territorialism. Call it what you want, but the green-eyed monster was not a pleasant feeling when it chose to visit.
It helped that every time Iona got close to touching him, Rysten stepped a good three feet to the side to dodge her.
“Something’s off about that one,” Moira continued. “She didn’t lie earlier, but I don’t think she was telling the full truth.” I stumbled when my boot hit a rock and Moira caught me easily. I grinned at the way her small frame held the brunt of my weight without breaking a sweat. She’d always been strong-willed, but now she had the body to match it.
“What makes you say she wasn’t lying?”
“I can tell,” Moira said evasively. My eyebrows inched up my forehead and she chuckled under her breath. “Ever since I transitioned, things have been...different. There’s power in words, and I can taste it. Lies taste bad.”
“You never talk about what happened,” I said. It was my way of prodding, but just a little. If she wanted to talk, that was her choice; the same as if she chose to be silent.
“It’s still happening,” she murmured. I paused, the eerie tone of her voice had my skin prickling.
“What do you mean?” I said slowly. Moira stopped, and because we were at the back of the group, no one minded one bit. She looked up at the night sky. On Earth it would have been a hazy blue-grey that was too murky to discern much of anything. Here, it was more saturated, and the sky shone like navy paint splashed across a canvas. The stars popped like glittering gems against the darkened atmosphere.
“Our lives changed the day Allistair paid your bail. We’ve had a lot of ups and some pretty low downs. I’ve been kidnapped, drugged, tortured, imprisoned, and starved to a certain extent when Bandit and I had to share any food we found.” My mouth went dry and I wished I’d never asked now, but I opened up the door for her to speak. I needed to hear what she had to say. “I think if we only looked at the bad things, people would wonder why I’m still with you. Why I chose to stand by you all these years. Why I chose to follow you into Hell. But you know what? The same thing could be said about you with me.
“I remember the day you stood up to Brayden Patterson for me. He wouldn’t stop throwing rocks and you slugged him in the face so hard his nose was never straight again. Neither was your right index finger.” My hands flexed as I remembered the impact. “You’ve fought people for me. You’ve risked yourself time and time again. You’ve been teased and tormented, and if we’re both being honest, that night in Pandora’s Box never would have happened if I hadn’t insisted on taking you out alone because I don’t like to share.” I opened my mouth to refute it, but a slight finger rested on my lips telling me to shush. “We’ve hurt each other by association, but we’ve also completed each other in ways that no one else understands. You wanted to know why I don’t talk about what happened? About my time with Le Dan Bia, about my transition, about being branded—the thing is, I’m still living it. Every day with you, I am preparing for the next horror I might face. I’m terrified that one day these close calls will be just a little too close, and I’ll lose you like that.” She snapped her fingers, and it reverberated in my bones. “So, I don’t talk about it. I prepare. I practice when no one is watching. I listen to the things people don’t say. I watch the world around us. Because our lives are still changing, and until it stops, I have no intention of pausing to think about what has happened and letting it distract me. The second I do might be the second someone strikes and then all the talking in the world won’t matter if you’re gone. Being angry won’t matter if you’re gone, because all I’ll have is myself and my own resentments. And that’s the worst place to be.”
I stared at her and couldn’t find words.
Certainly not one’s like hers. Moira didn’t talk because she existed in an eternal state of fight or flight. Our lives were dangerous, and she was absolutely right that we hurt each other by association, but she was also right in that I wouldn’t change the pain if it meant not knowing her. She didn’t talk about it or let herself feel it because we were still living it.
And to her, not feeling it meant that she was better equipped to keep it that way.
Bottling emotions was never my thing. I was the kind that let it all out and got over it, but not Moira. She held it close and locked it up tight, turning it into fuel to do and be better, and in the end…she exploded.
Today wasn’t that explosion, but the building of it.
She gave herself a foundation built on spite and hope and guilt and love. She crafted herself into the perfect disaster. Wild. Passionate. Disruptive.
I wrapped my arms around her shoulders and pulled her close, knowing that one day soon, in the right collision of events, she would go bang—and nothing would hold her together then.
“I love you, Moira,” I muttered into her shoulder.
“I love you too. That’s why I don’t like this.” It didn’t take a genius to know what she was talking about. “Her timing is too convenient. Rysten thought she died like three thousand years ago, and now all of a sudden she makes an appearance?” Moira scoffed. “Puh-lease. This bitch is here to drive a wedge. Which is why I lost my shit when she tried to kiss him, again.”
I froze and both my eyebrows shot to my hairline. “Again?”
“He pushed her away the second time,” Moira said. “But the fact that he told her he was mated and she still tried that shit...I just couldn’t stop myself. I’m tired of all these petty bitches. You won’t go beast mode on them, but there’s nothing stopping me. I’m no one.” She shrugged her shoulders with a wicked smile on her lips.
“You’re not no one—” I argued. She threw her head back and let out a loud, obnoxious laugh that had half the masked demons turning to look at us.
“Oh, babe, I’m no one, but that’s fine by me. Being your familiar is more than enough responsibility.” She patted my back. “Means I get to do all the fun things, like pick on the Horsemen because they can’t do shit about it.”
I snorted. Of course, that would be a perk to her.
“They’re not the only ones you’ve been picking on lately...” I st
arted, letting my voice trail off while tilting my chin towards Jax.
“That’s because he’s a dick.” Her forehead went tense as she purposely stared straight ahead.
“Uh huh.” I threw my arm around her shoulder. “So are you. Your point?”
She spluttered for a second, grasping for a response. I cocked an eyebrow, fighting a smile and her cheeks blushed pistachio. “I choose to be a dick, thank you very much. He wouldn’t know how to be nice if it bit him in the ass.”
I snorted. “You keep telling yourself that.”
“I’m serious—” Moira said loudly, elbowing me in the ribs for cracking up so hard. A heavy arm landed around my shoulder, edging between us. “What the hell?” She jumped away from the intrusion. “Famine, I’m not all about your incubus cooties, man. Save that shit for Ruby and a closed door.”
“Mind if I cut in here?” Allistair asked, his lips brushing over the tip of my ear as he leaned into me.
“Just help yourself.” Moira rolled her eyes and he flashed her a wink as she moved up ahead to give us room to talk.
“You handled yourself better than I expected,” he said quietly, the overt flirtatiousness slipping from his tone.
“Oh?” I asked. “And how did you think I would handle myself?”
“I wasn’t completely sure Iona was going to make it out of that alive.”
Was that a ghost of a smile?
“I’m not that petty,” I snorted, blowing a sweaty strand of hair away from my face. “Besides, I meant what I said. This is between me and Rysten. How Iona acts isn’t my business.”
He nodded silently, watching them up ahead of us, the same as I did.
“You’re wise for one so young.”
“She’s not the first bitchy ex I’ve dealt with. I doubt she’ll be the last.” But I wished she was. I wished it more than anything. Ever since puberty I’d been dealing with women like this. It’s a devil-damned miracle that I had Moira.
Brimstone Nightmares (Queen of the Damned Book 4) Page 8
