by Mary Abshire
Chapter Four
The thirty-minute drive to his house was the quietest time I'd ever spent with him. I snuck a couple of peeks at him from the corner of my eye. He kept focused on the road and a strong grip on the steering wheel. His face and body held tension I wasn't used to seeing on him. He sat stiff, lips together, and with a stern expression. When we were friends in the past, he’d always appeared relaxed and he smiled often. Actually, he had a lusty look in his eyes every time he gazed at me, as if he saw through my clothes and imagined naughty things. I wondered if something had changed him, or was our departure truly that upsetting for him? I wouldn't have thought so since he still seemed to enjoy the company of other women.
He steered into his neighborhood and accelerated around the curves. The houses were all multi-level brick homes with big yards. It wasn't the modest cookie-cutter suburbia I'd lived in with Drake in Canada. A couple of inches of snow remained on the ground, but all the roads and driveways were clean. Security lighting shone on every house. From the outside appearance, I'd estimated each property was close to a million dollars. Jeremy had money, but I was surprised to see he'd spent it on such luxurious housing.
The garage door lifted as he pulled onto the driveway. My pulsed had calmed during the silent drive, but it spiked as we neared the end of journey. The three-car storage area accommodated his one vehicle with plenty of room to spare. He cut the engine and I inhaled a deep breath. Let the fun times begin.
From the SUV, I caught up to him at the entrance to his house. The garage door lowered with a soft hum. Jeremy entered the home, then strode down a hall. I followed him inside, but paused to shut the door. When I turned around, he'd vanished from sight. In a flash, a light from another room spilled into the hallway. I continued forward.
I passed two open doors before I reached a large dining room. Glass cabinetry lined up against one wall. A long rectangular table made from cherry wood filled the center. An extravagant chandelier hung from above. I passed through the room and continued into the kitchen where Jeremy was moving around. Before I entered, I paused to view the spacious living area on my left. The open-floor format reminded me of the small ranch Drake and I shared in Canada. A huge flat screen television had been mounted to the wall. Even with the big sofa, two recliners, tables, and a loveseat, there was plenty of room to accommodate more furniture.
The clank of a glass bottle gathered my attention. I resumed my course to the kitchen. Jeremy had set two bottles of expensive vodka and shot glasses on the counter in the center of the room. He faced the living room, arms spread and palms on the countertop, but his gaze was directed at me. Again, he looked calm yet tense. Perspiration had formed above his brows. The heat he’d been emitting since I’d jumped in the car with him seemed stronger than I last remembered. Thankfully, he’d set the air on in the car and in his house. So far, I hadn’t started to sweat, but my temperature was on the rise.
My heartbeat steadily increased while he watched me take a seat on a stool across from him. "Nice house." There, I’d done it. I’d broken the silence and said the first words. Kudos to me.
Jeremy twisted the cap off one of the bottles and it made a snapping noise. "It’s all paid for by the team."
As he poured the liquor into the glasses, I checked out the fancy kitchen. The color of the cabinetry matched the wood of the dining table. All appliances were stainless steel. Built-in ovens were located near a large stove. There was plenty of counter space for someone who enjoyed cooking.
The glass made a soft gliding sound as Jeremy pushed it toward me. Clear fluid almost spilled over the rim. He took his shot, then downed it fast. I looked at my drink and it appealed little to me.
Jeremy poured more of the clear fluid into his glass.
"Well, it looks nice, even if it’s free," I said, staying polite and holding true to my manners.
He tossed the liquor into his mouth, then swallowed. "I’m sure you didn’t come from…wherever you came from to compliment my house." He filled another shot.
The rudeness of his words and tone kicked my temperature up. Although my pulse was racing and my anxiety level was off the charts, I kept myself under control. Squeezing my hands together under the table helped.
He drank more liquor, then set the glass down and it clanked. "You look like shit."
"Yeah, I know." I looked down at the drink in front of me. I used to enjoy drinking to ease my anxiety, and for fun. But I hadn’t had a drop of liquor since Drake had left.
"Blonde is not good with your skin tone."
"I know." I sighed heavily and met his gaze.
"You’ve lost too much weight."
"All right already. I get it. Thanks for the heartwarming 'glad to see you' after five years," I said with irritation in my tone.
The demon needed to work on his manners. We’d had our share of problems in the past, but that didn’t mean he had to treat me with such disrespect now.
Sweat trickled down the side of his face. He shoved the sleeves of his shirt up his arm, then poured more clear fluid into his glass. The snake tattoo I'd last seen many years ago caught my attention. Although I couldn't see the part wrapped around his muscle, the open mouth with white fangs and a red tongue near his wrist was visible.
He gulped the liquor. "Are you going to drink?" he asked as he filled another shot.
"No."
He set the bottle hard enough on the counter that I thought it would break. After he scrubbed an arm across his forehead, he tossed the liquor into his mouth. He set the glass down with a clank, grabbed my shot, then downed it.
"Slow down, Jeremy." I’d lost count of how many shots he’d had, but it seemed like a lot. Thanks to our demon blood, alcohol dissolved quickly in our system. The effects never remained long, so the strong liquors were better suited to give us a buzz. I imagined he had a good one going since he’d drank so much so quickly.
Glass still in his hand, he spun and threw it toward the wall behind him, near the window above the kitchen sink. The impact stung my ears and I flinched. Shards flew everywhere before they landed on the counters and floor with soft clinks. My heart started pounding. I considered running out the door. Contacting him had been a mistake.
"Five years, Jessie. Five fucking years." Perspiration rolled down his red face. He gripped the neck of one of the bottles. Lips pressed tight together, he lifted it as if he were going to throw it.
The stool scraped over the floor as I quickly rose from my seat. "I’m sorry. I’ll leave. Forget you ever saw me."
I hurried to get away from him. His emotional state was too out of control from me to deal with. I’d seen him extremely angry once before and his werewolf friend, Ryan, had to restrain him. He seemed worse now than ever and I didn’t want to risk one of us getting hurt accidently. I left the kitchen, then turned to head toward the exit in the front room.
"Jessie, wait!"
I stopped before I’d made it past the dining room. Breathing fast, I stared at the door in the darkened living area and debated if I should continue toward it.
"Just…wait," he said.
I spun around and faced him. He pushed the liquor bottle to the side, then braced his hands on the countertop. Head lowered, it appeared he was trying to calm himself.
"I didn’t come here to stir up the past," I said softly, then took a step forward. "I don’t want to upset you any more than I have."
He chuckled, then sniffled. "Why are you here?" In a blink of an eye, his expression had turned serious.
Given his state of mind, I’d feared making a bargain with him. Maybe if I gave him time to settle down, he would be more reasonable to work with.
"I can come back another time."
"No." He shook his head. "You’re here now. Sit and let’s talk."
I hesitated to return to my seat, but he had a point. Why not rip the Band-Aid off instead of waiting? I slowly made my way back, then sat on the stool across from him.
"So…" He straightened and crossed h
is arms. "What brings you to Pittsburgh to see me? Where’s Drake?"
I placed my hands together, slid them between my thighs, and took a deep breath. "He’s gone."
"Gone how? Where?"
I swallowed. "He left a little over three years ago. He got word the VETOV would consider negotiating with me, so he took off to Europe to try to talk to them."
"And you haven’t seen him since."
"No."
Jeremy shook his head. "That was a dumb move."
"Yeah, well…" I sighed.
"Have you spoken with anyone else? I’m sure he planned everything out for you. I would have."
"He made arrangements, but I was too scared to contact any of his acquaintances."
"I wouldn’t contact them. Their bloodsuckers."
"Yeah, I don’t trust any of them."
He snickered. "I told you not to years ago. You should’ve listened."
"You don’t need to remind me," I said, annoyed. His rudeness started to irritate me again. If he continued to belittle me, I’d quickly walk out the door.
He lowered his arms, then poured vodka into the remaining glass. "So you’re on your own."
"Pretty much. I contacted an old friend of mine in Indianapolis a few weeks ago."
"Oh?" He set the bottle back on the counter. "Who did you talk to?"
"Kyle."
"The old lover." He half chuckled before he drank the liquor. "How did that go?" He set the glass down.
I took a deep breath. "Not well. He’s dead now. And so is Dani."
I stared deep into his eyes, waiting for some sympathy or compassion. Like so many times in the past, it wasn’t there.
"Humans can’t be trusted. They’re vulnerable."
As if I didn’t know that.
"So you need help—money, a safe place to live…"
"No."
He scrunched his brows. "You don’t need money or a place to live?"
"I can take care of myself."
He laughed and poured another drink. "How’s that working out for you?"
Frustration on the rise, I stiffened and crossed my arms. The demon always had a way of setting my anger into motion. That part of him hadn’t changed.
After he swallowed more vodka, he shook his head. A grin started to form on his face. "I had a feeling you’d show up one day." He tugged a stool from under the counter, then sat. "So, why are you here? It must be important since you don’t need money or somewhere to stay."
For a moment, I reconsidered asking for any help from him. The look in his eyes and his delightful expression proved he knew I needed him. With that knowledge, he could require a hefty price. I hated bargaining with him. Mood turning bitter, I looked at the vodka bottle and pondered taking a swig. The liquor would at least calm my nerves.
Jeremy must have noticed I was thinking about drinking. He filled the glass, then slid it toward me. I looked at him, then the shot. He watched me with a hint of a smile.
I lifted the drink, then tossed the fluid into my mouth. After I swallowed, my throat started to burn and the urge to cough besieged me. I covered my mouth with the back of my hand. The alcohol increased my temperature as it passed inside me. It had been so long since I’d had a drink of something strong that I’d forgotten some of the effects.
Jeremy poured more vodka. "I missed our days of drinking together. We had some good times." He set the bottle upright.
I stared at the glass. "You know I wouldn’t be here unless I needed your help. I’m putting your life in danger by coming here."
"Yeah, well…" He gave a casual shrug with one of his shoulders. "I’ve always had a soft spot in my heart for blue-eyed half-demons."
I almost chuckled. Almost, then I grabbed the shot and downed it. The fluid warmed me again.
"In case you’ve forgotten, I’m quite capable of handling any vampires," he said.
"The skill is a handy one." I nodded.
He chuckled. "Nice choice of words." He crossed his arms. "Now tell me what I can help you with."
I breathed in deeply. "I want you to help me find Drake."
The amusement on his face disappeared. "Seriously?"
"I don’t know if he’s alive—"
"He’s been dead for several centuries," he interrupted, and I paused.
"I need proof he’s still here or…not. No pictures. No videos. I need to see with my own eyes if they destroyed him, or if they’re holding him hostage. If they are keeping him against his will, then I want him freed. And if they did destroy him…" I paused to gather more air. "I want them extinguished. And if by all means possible, I want to send their souls to Hell."
Jeremy stared calmly at me, then he rose. He started pacing. "Let me get this straight. You want me to help you find your old lover, whom I despise. And if he’s been burned to ashes, you want me to help you get revenge." He stopped to look at me.
"In a nutshell, yes."
He chuckled as he grabbed the bottle and filled the glass. "Not only am I risking my life, I would be putting others in danger."
"I realize this." The notion of harm to other people bothered me greatly and I vowed to minimize the risk as much as possible. But ultimately, I realized someone could get hurt, or worse.
He took the shot fast, then set the glass on the counter. "Then you know this will cost you."
I lowered my gaze as I nodded. "I know."
He rubbed his hand over his mouth, then scratched his cheek. "What do think? Should I shave?"
I gave him a quizzical look. How could ask me such unimportant questions when we were in the middle of a serious matter?
"I…I don’t know. It looks good on you."
"You think? Doesn't it make me look older though?" He sat on the stool.
I shook my head, disliking his pettiness. "So what if it does? It looks fine on you."
"So you like it?"
I tossed my hands up. "Yes. Yes. Can we get on with negotiations, please?"
He grinned and slowly dragged his gaze down to my chest. I rolled my eyes. It was only a matter of time before his naughty mind would start working.
He slid his hand over the counter, then lifted my hand. "Married?"
The heat from his touch instantly spread up my arm. I withdrew my hand from his and placed it back in my lap. "No. We couldn't make it official."
He dragged his arm back. "Good." He tapped his hands on the table, one at a time, as if he were performing a drum roll, then he stopped abruptly. "Okay."
Dread began to blossom within me. How much would I have to sacrifice to save Drake, if he could be saved?
"I can help you, but this not only risks many lives, it will require me to give up my career and go into hiding."
I hadn't considered him having to leave his job. "Can't you just say you're injured and need time off?"
"No, it won't work," he said with single shake of his head. "But it's okay. I'm financially sound and I've had plenty of time to prepare."
Prepare for what? I wanted to ask, but I was more focused on the bargain we were making. Leaving his career was a big deal, regardless if he had plenty of money to live off of. He enjoyed the rough sport. What would he do without it?
"Are you willing to walk away from it all?" I asked.
He leaned over the counter. "Honey, for you, I will gladly leave it in the dust."
My breathing stalled. I had a feeling the price for my deal had just increased.
"Thank you," I said softly.
Sitting upright, he inhaled a deep breath. "In return for helping you, I want you to move in with after we complete this task of yours. I want you to bond with me spiritually and I want two children from you. If neither are a male, then we will continue to try until one is produced. But no more than five. You will live with me and help raise our children. After their thirteenth birthdays, you may choose to leave. Those are my terms, whether we find your lover walking this earth or not."
My heart pounded fiercely as I stared at him. Live with him.
Give him children. I wanted to cry. I had no idea what spiritually bonding met, but I imagined it was something similar to marriage. What he wanted me to give up in exchange for his help was beyond anything I'd thought he'd ask for. I'd considered he'd want sex, and I had been willing to give him that. It was just sex, after all. But to bear his children… I never considered he'd ask that.
I swallowed hard. "Jeremy, you're asking—"
He crossed his arms. "Lives could be lost. We could die. Think about the dynamics involved just so you can see with your own eyes if your lover is being kept against his will or fried to a crisp."
"Fuck, Jeremy, do you have to be so crude?" Gloom took hold of my voice and my heart. Tears built in my eyes.
He placed his palms on the countertop, then leaned over it. "I'm being straightforward with you. I always have. You're asking for people to risk their lives for you. I'm asking you to live with me and give life for me. I think this bargain is very fair."
"What if I can't give you children?"
His lips twitched. "I don't think that will be a problem."
"But what if something is wrong with me?"
"Then we see doctors and find a way."
"But—"
"That is the deal," he said, voice elevated.
My breaths were coming fast as if I were hyperventilating. I needed air. I needed time to think. I needed to get away from him if only for a few minutes to calm myself.
"Where's your bathroom?" I asked.
"Down the hall you came in," he said with a tilt of his head. "First door."
I strode through the dining room, entered the hallway, then found the restroom. I flipped on the light, then shut the door. Anxiety and desperation consumed me. I couldn't hold back the tears. They streamed down my cheeks. I rushed to the sink and turned on the faucet. Again, I labored to breathe. I gasped and sucked in gulps of air, but none of it offered me relief. My heart ached with sorrow and from pounding so hard. How could I give him what he wanted in exchange for helping me find Drake? Live with him and bear his children? What if we saved Drake? How could I honor my agreement with Jeremy if we freed Drake? There had to be another way or other options.
