Reborn Series Box Set (Books 1-3.5)

by S. L. Stacy

  Chapter 27

  “Siobhan,” Jasper says, peering at me through the gap between the wall and the door. He lowers the chain and opens the door the rest of the way. “I really didn’t expect to—”

  I slap him as hard as I can. Even so, he doesn’t flinch. He brings a hand up to the place where my hand connected with his cheek, but I think it’s just a reflex.

  “I guess I deserve that.”

  “Yes, you do.” I slip past him into his apartment. After a moment’s hesitation he closes and relocks the door.

  “So, what brings you here?” The question lacks interest, curiosity. He almost sounds bored.

  “I—” My reply catches in my throat. He’s wearing a black terrycloth robe tied loosely at the waist, exposing a strip of marble-hard chest and abs. My eyes linger a little too long on the bulge underneath his robe around the hip and thigh area. When I look back up at him, he’s smirking in satisfaction.

  I swallow hard before continuing, “I’m here to help you.”

  I don’t know how I expected Jasper to react to this declaration. Surprised? Annoyed? Even anger would have been better than the uncontrollable fits of laughter he lapses into. He’s laughing so hard he stumbles and catches himself on the kitchen counter. I watch him in stunned, pained silence until he eventually recovers himself. He gives a low whistle.

  “Sorry about that.”

  “You don’t sound very sorry.”

  “Aw, what, did I hurt your feelings?” His lower lip juts forward in a mocking pout.

  “This isn’t you.” I raise my voice in hopes that will steady it. “The army. The rebellion. Tonight.”

  “How would you know that? You said it yourself: You don’t remember me or us. Maybe I was always like this.”

  “That’s what Farrah said,” I tell him. Maybe he’ll back off if he knows he’s basically agreeing with his mother. “That you were always meddling, always interfering in others’ relationships. She said what you’re doing now is just an extension of that.”

  “She’s right. I’m a meddler. Always was, until I met…” He clamps his mouth shut, realizing what he was just about to admit.

  “Me,” I finish for him. “I saved you once. I can do it again.”

  Chuckling, Jasper wanders into the living room, turning his back to me. “You’ve been on Earth for too long. I didn’t think you’d be the type to subscribe to that clichéd female fantasy of saving the brooding bad boy from himself. I don’t want to be saved. I don’t need to be saved.”

  “Of course you need saving! You’re doing horrible things!”

  “Morality is relative.”

  “Killing isn’t!” I cry out. He glances back at me, eyebrows raised. It’s barely a response, but it lets me know he’s finally listening to me. “You tried to kill my friends. And Genie is dead because of you, Apate and Dolos. Because you didn’t give her enough ambrosia.”

  “Of course we did!” he scoffs, his blasé façade crumbling, but only for an instant. “Even if we didn’t, her death isn’t on our hands. She could have said ‘no.’ There were many instances when she could have backed out.”

  “In case you haven’t noticed, you’re kind of a hard person to say ‘no’ to.”

  “Am I?” A devilish smile creeps onto his face, his eyes glittering with something I can’t quite identify. It’s beyond his usual mischief and playfulness. Something deep, sinister and hungry. “Why does the girl always have to ‘save’ him?” he muses, the grin vanishing, although a dark yearning still smolders in his gaze. “Why can’t she accept him for who he is? Is he so unlovable?” Suddenly he’s towering over me, our bodies only centimeters apart.

  “You would have told me the truth about your plans from the start if you really thought you were doing the right thing,” I point out quietly. I’ve never hated more what the mere nearness of him does to me. I’m trying to maintain my self-control, but I can tell he senses it’s caving. He strokes my cheek with two seductive fingers before cupping my chin in his hand.

  “Do you think Good Jasper is going to make you feel like this?” he whispers. Before I can answer—not that I had any idea what I was going to say to that, anyway—he grinds his erection against me as he crushes me against his body, his determined tongue invading my mouth. I lose myself in the kiss for a minute or two, but then slam my hands against his chest and try to pull away from him.

  “Stop,” I grunt against his mouth. I turn my face away, feeling his lips graze my cheek instead. He grabs my wrists and squeezes, hard, to still my thrashing. I struggle feebly against him.

  “You’re…hurting…me.” I put all my might into breaking free, but at the same time he releases me, and I trip backwards. I rub my wrists, holding them to my chest protectively. My pale skin is red where Jasper held me.

  “I’m sorry. I…” Jasper stares at my hands and blinks as though emerging from a daze. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  “I guess everyone’s right. You are a monster.”

  I stomp past him and around the divider partitioning off his bedroom. In my wrinkled cocktail dress and with dry but tangled hair, I crawl on top of the bed, shoving a pillow under my head. I shut my eyes.

  “You still want to stay here?” Jasper’s uncertain voice comes from somewhere at the foot of the bed.

  “I’m too tired to go home,” I say into the pillow. “Just don’t touch me.”

  “I won’t.”

  The mattress rolls as he gets in beside me. I drift off to sleep more quickly than I thought I would. The next time I open my eyes, the red crystals of the digital clock on the nightstand blaze three ten in the morning. Jasper sits up in bed, hugging his legs. His skin is ghostly white in the streetlight filtering through the blinds, his hair hanging in his face and swaying as he rocks himself back and forth. He looks like a drug addict in withdrawal.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask, sitting up.

  He must have been crying, because he sniffs and wipes at his eyes. “I’m sorry about earlier. You’re right—I wasn’t always like this. I’m not this monster. I swear. Please help me, Siobhan.” I brush strands of his hair out of his face so that I can look at him. “I accept your help. I don’t want anyone to die. I didn’t want…Genie…”

  I scoot closer to him and take his hand in mine. “I’ll help you. Let’s just get some sleep, for now.” He nods and curls up in the fetal position under the covers. I cradle his head against my chest. We fall asleep like this.

  ***

  The rest of the weekend is a blur of bare skin, tangled limbs and blood red satin sheets.

  At night I let myself forget why I’m really here and the questionable things Jasper has done, surrendering myself to him completely. After each time we make love I crash, lying spent in his arms, and I wake up a few hours later only to find him looming over me, his erection urging my thighs apart once again.

  During the day, we make meals together, cuddle, talk—almost like a normal couple. Spending this time with him has helped me realize there’s something else between us—something that could transcend each of our faults, our mistakes, our darkness. Something that would only become stronger and more real if I can show him what it means to truly love someone.

  Late Sunday afternoon I’m still cocooned in bed when Jasper brings over two steaming cups of black tea. I accept mine and sniff its pungent vapors in playful suspicion.

  “It’s ambrosia-free,” he assures me. I sit up, propping my pillow between my back and the headboard, and Jasper perches on the edge of the bed at my feet. “Just so you know: You only need one more dose of ambrosia to become as fully Olympian as you can possibly be. Only one or two drops needed. But it’s up to you.” I shake my head as I take a sip of tea. Jasper sighs. “That’s what I figured. Let me know if you change your mind, okay?”

  “I won’t,” I insist. “Thank you for respecting my choice.” I jab him playfully in his back with my toes. “I feel like we’ve just had a breakthrough.”

  He gives a shy,
fleeting smile, looking as though he’s about to say something, but then changes his mind, instead blowing on his tea.

  “What is it?” I press.

  Jasper sets his cup on the nightstand and stretches out on the bed beside me. “So what I’m offering isn’t…it isn’t at all appealing to you?”

  “What are you offering me?”

  “The chance to rule beside me on Olympus.” He reaches up and tucks a section of my hair behind my ear. “To be my queen.”

  I straighten up, almost sloshing tea onto myself and the sheets. “I thought we were trying to get past this, Jasper. You told me you wanted my help.”

  “But I don’t know what you want from me.” He whispers this fearfully, like a little boy who knows he’s in trouble. Until this moment I’ve been unable to pinpoint what he reminds me of, with the mood swings and the tantrums, but now I can see him clearly, behind the wicked smirk and the black holes of his eyes: the child still struggling within him, who doesn’t seem to know right from wrong or understand the consequences of his actions.

  “I want you to choose me.” It’s what I’ve really wanted all along, this selfish yearning my conscience has kept restrained in the back of my mind. Yes, I want to protect my friends, protect Earth, but when I presented him with this ultimatum, deep down I wanted him to prove his love for me by choosing me over Apate and Dolos, over their mission.

  He casts me a confused sideways glance. “I am choosing you.”

  “No, I mean—I want you to choose me.” I lie back down on the bed and put my head on his chest so that I don’t have to look in his eyes. “If you really want to be with me, you have to let go of this plan to build your army here on Earth and overthrow Zeus. You have to find another way—”

  “Siobhan, I—”

  “Or just give it up. Stay here, with me.” I lift up my head and meet his gaze resolutely. “We can have a relationship. We can be normal.”

  Jasper smiles, but sadness and regret tug down the corners of it. “You can’t really be asking me to do this. We’ve been planning this for eons. It’s my time. It’s my turn to rule on Olympus. Siobhan, I—I want you by my side, more than anything, but if you turn me down, I’m still going through with it.”

  And there it is. I finally have my answer. I can’t say I’m surprised, but hearing him say it still stings. After all of his hyperbole about “getting his wife back” and my being “the love of his life,” it’s still not enough. His lust for power consumes him, not his love for me—if you can even call it love. I don’t know what Psyche was to him, but Siobhan Elliot is his possession, his chosen one, his prize to flaunt before his kingdom if he overtakes the thrown. Ours is a dark, delicious fantasy, but nothing more. It’s like grasping at the tendrils of a dream upon waking—one moment you’re on the cusp of something incredible, but when the fog of sleep clears you can barely recall what that incredible something was—and if you do, it’s not the same. Reality sets in.

  My fog lifts.

  “I should get going,” I mutter, sitting up and sliding off the bed in one fluid motion.

  Jasper reaches out as if to stop me, his fingers brushing then sliding off my arm. “Now? We should talk about this.”

  “Our chapter meeting starts in fifteen minutes,” I explain without looking back at him. “I’m going to be late.”

  There’s a pause, and I can feel him frowning at the back of my head. “I’ll drive you.” He gets up and goes to his closet to get a shirt. I go into the bathroom, splash my face with cool water, and slip back into the dress I wore to the dance. It’s not business formal, but I hope it’s better than barging in wearing panties and my lover’s Rolling Stones t-shirt.

  As we’re idling in front of the sorority house, Jasper takes my hand before I get out of the car.

  “So we’re okay.”

  No. “We’re okay,” I assure him. He leans over for a loving, closed-mouth kiss. I force a smile when it’s over. “See you later.” I get out and close the door.

  “I love you,” he calls out the window and pulls away from the curb. I steel myself before walking into the house, even knocking lightly on the door before cracking it open.

  “It’s just me,” I announce before coming in. The words echo off the walls back to me. “Where is everybody?” I mutter, taking out my phone to double check my inbox, but I don’t have any emails or texts saying chapter has been canceled. I don’t hear showers running or footsteps pacing frantically upstairs; the entire house is quietly poised, as if it’s waiting for something to happen.

  “Victoria?” I call out anyway, the heels of my shoes on the hardwood floor sounding especially loud and intrusive as I explore the living room, even peeking into the kitchen. “Tanya?”

  “The girls aren’t here.” Farrah’s cool, calm voice behind me sends a chill down my spine.

  “O-oh,” I stammer as I whirl around to face her. “Are we having chapter somewhere else?” My voice squeaks at the end of the question.

  Farrah’s laugh is as close to a cackle as I’ve heard anyone come to in real life. “I sent them away. I realized that, if you’re really not going to help us, then I really have no use for you. And killing you is just too much fun.” She backs away from me a step at a time, keeping her icy jade gaze fixed on me, and I instinctively lunge forward, my fingers curled and reaching for her slender, pretty neck—

  —but instead I collide with an invisible barrier that sends me crumpling like a rag doll to the floor.

  I get to my hands and knees, breathing hard and glaring at her. Hef has materialized next to her, a ball of orange fire in his brown hand. I swipe my fingers through the air in front of me, and the cage crackles, a translucent ripple running through it that distorts their figures. Hef tosses the fireball casually at the entertainment console, and it goes up in flames.

  “Goodbye for now,” Farrah says just as the fire licks the floor between us all the way up to the couches, which are consumed instantaneously. The fire spreads impossibly fast, like the floor and furniture are coated with gasoline. Farrah and Hef meander away from it and out the front door as though they’re going outside for an evening stroll. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I know this is a ridiculous and ostentatious way to kill someone, but as the room fills with smoke, fear and panic dispel any rational thought. I lay down on my stomach, gasping as smoke infiltrates from above—I can’t get out, and the flames can’t get in, but my enclosure apparently doesn’t have a ceiling. I’m getting breathless and woozy as I fumble my phone out of my purse, scrolling frantically for Jasper’s name through bleary eyes. When I find it, I text one word:

  help

  I drift in and out of a sleep-like state. Maybe I should just let myself slip into blissful unconsciousness. Maybe it’s supposed to be this way. I wasn’t supposed to come back, so the universe or some force has been conspiring to make things right, regain balance…

  “Siobhan!”

  I hear his voice, but it sounds dream-like and faraway. Two arms pick me up and shake me gently but urgently.

  “Siobhan, snap out of it!” With every desperate word, Jasper’s voice becomes louder and clearer. “What happened?”

  My eyes flutter open, meeting his blue ones. Those beautiful, deep blue pools that pull me under like the current of the ocean. Mmmmm…

  “Stay with me!”

  I peer at him from under heavy lids.

  Despite Jasper’s pleas, the first thing to really jar me back to my senses is the clean, smokeless air now reaching my nostrils, flowing into my lungs. I open my eyes wider. The room has gone back to normal—the fire quashed, the furniture unscathed.

  “The fire—” I say in confusion, but before I even realize what’s happened, Jasper has flipped me around so that my back is molded to his front. One of his arms has snaked around my waist while the other is lodged under my throat, where it’s pressing into me bit by agonizing bit, suffocating me.

  “Son.” Farrah appears, pink and golden, into my line of sight. “Ho
w nice of you to join us.”

  Jasper’s breath is hot against my ear as he hisses at me.

  “You must think I’m a fucking idiot.”

  Chapter 28

  “No,” I gasp. I try to get more out, but instead just open my mouth and gag under the pressure of his forearm against my throat. There’s a flutter of white cloth and feathers, and then my fellow executive board members file into the room and form a circle around me and Jasper. They’re clad in billowing white robes with long, dangling sleeves and hems that kiss the floor.

  A feather brushes my skin. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the black down of Jasper’s own wings. I keep waiting for him to drop me and make a run for it—he might be able to catch my sisters by surprise and bolt out the door. Then I see the tip of one of Victoria’s brilliant white wings send a quiver through the invisible enclosure wrapping around the outside of the circle. Jasper wouldn’t make it very far.

  Victoria cradles one of the stones we found in Farrah’s room in her hands. It glows red like a hot coal, yet she doesn’t flinch. Farrah takes two steps back to join them in the circle.

  “First we must reaffirm our pledge to Nike,” Farrah announces. A few mouths open, no sound coming out, eyes glancing uncertainly between me and Jasper and back to Farrah. “Now.”

  The first few words of the oath start off shaky, but soon the voices of the sisters of Gamma Lambda Phi blend together in unison, crisp and solemn:

  “Sisters we gather,

  In answer to the call,

  To fulfill our destiny

  As guardians this side of the wall.

  “Where the fabric wears thin,

  And our enemy’s at hand,

  We must thrust him back

  Into his own land.

  “We honor our legacy

  And before the night is done,

  Sisters past, present and future

  Will unite as one.”