She couldn’t believe it, but she said yes. What was in that cider?
If Jax had ever had a better day, he couldn’t remember. Sasha was beautiful, funny, and she never gave up. Watching her gain confidence, discover that she could ski like anybody else, that she didn’t suck, and seeing the pure joy in her lovely blue eyes—it was perfect.
After the third run, she became very brave. Too brave. She took it into her head to ski off the main run, through a narrow loop in the trees that wound back to the main. He followed, freaking when he saw her get enough speed that she couldn’t take a turn. She fell and tried to roll with it, but she crashed against a boulder at a weird angle, catching her leg in the twist of her skis. He heard the bone snap, knew she’d broken it even before she did.
With his heart in his throat, he nearly hit the boulder himself, he was so frantic to get to her. Hurrying out of his skis, he rushed to kneel next to her and yanked his gloves off so he could gently untangle her skis, poles, and legs.
She lay in the snow, her gold hair spilling all around her, blinking up at him, obviously scared and fighting back tears. “I think maybe you should go for the ski patrol.”
“Maybe not.” He concentrated carefully before he laid his hands on her, just where her left fibula had snapped. Slowly, the bone knitted back together. When it was done, he looked into her face and saw exactly what he expected. Shock. Amazement. And fear.
“How did you do that?”
He’d have to erase the memory, as soon as possible. She’d forget the break and the healing, would think she’d simply fallen. She’d also forget seeing his eyes if he took off his shades.
Tossing them aside, he bent low, slid his hands into her silky hair, and kissed her. She tasted like caramel—salty and sweet.
It was several heartbeats before she kissed him back, and it dawned on him she was following his lead, mimicking him—just as she’d done all morning. She was as much a novice at kissing as she was at skiing. Seventeen, almost eighteen, and she’d never been kissed.
He hated himself for being such a sap, but there was something about being her first kiss … innocent, fantastic, beautiful.
Kissing her, being this close to an Anabo, he knew for the first time how it might feel to be at peace. It was intoxicating. Impossible to move away. It took tremendous willpower to break the kiss, but he allowed himself to stay close and stare into her incredible eyes, the color of the sky at dusk, dark blue, lit from within by the light of her soul. She stared back at him without flinching, without judging. Just like in San Francisco, she saw what was in his eyes and had no fear. Curious, maybe confused, but not afraid.
“Jax, who are you, really?”
They were inches apart. “Who do you think I am?”
“I … I don’t know, but lots of things in my life are very strange right now, and I’m wondering if meeting you wasn’t just lucky coincidence, like I thought at first.”
“What if I told you I’ve been looking for a girl like you my whole life?”
“I’d think you’re either really corny, or you know something about me that makes me … uhm, different than other girls.”
He lowered his head until his lips were just next to her ear. “You’re Anabo.”
She stiffened and turned her head so they were nose to nose. “How do you know?”
“Knowing the Anabo is part of who I am.”
“Do you … is there any reason you have something against Anabo?”
He understood, then. She was worried he might take her to Eryx, if knowing who she was made him an enemy. “Because of what I am, the only girls I can be with are Anabo. Finding you is huge for me.”
She frowned a little. “So that’s the only reason you’re hanging out with me?”
“That’s the reason I approached you. I’m hanging out with you because I want to.”
They stayed like that, lying in the snow staring at each other, for a long time, until she whispered, “So Anabo is real?”
“Very real.”
Sasha kissed him again. She liked him, he was sure of it. If he stuck to the plan, would she like him more tomorrow? And the day after? Would she eventually fall in love with him? Could he ever love her the way he was supposed to?
He let his thoughts run wild, pushing forward to the day she’d accept him, claim immortality, and become Mephisto.
Like him.
Tearing his mouth away from hers, he scrambled to his feet and stared down at her, his breath coming sharp and fast.
She struggled to sit and blinked up at him, clearly confused. “Jax, what’s wrong?” Her gaze fell away, and she blushed. “It’s because I’m terrible at kissing, isn’t it?”
“No, Sasha, it was perfect.” She was perfect, a child of light. One in a billion. That he’d found her was amazing. That she was meant for him was a miracle. But in all his years of wishing and hoping to find an Anabo, he never once considered what had to happen for him to keep her. She had to become Mephisto, so the very thing that allowed her to be with him, he’d have to change. When it was over, when she was Mephisto, she’d be like him, always dogged by the dark side. The peace she knew now would be gone. How could he do that to her?
And yet, how could he not? His dark soul recognized the light of hers, craved it like a drowning man yearns for air. Every instinct drove him toward one goal—to claim her, keep her, make her his, and ultimately turn her to Mephisto. But instinct didn’t take into account emotion. He hadn’t considered, even in his wildest imagination, that he’d have any hesitation.
Still, looking down at her lovely face, her wide, clear eyes, he couldn’t deny he felt like a monster, set upon sullying the princess, dragging her down to live in the muck with him.
What the hell was wrong with him? He couldn’t get all mushy and emotional about this. There was a lot more to her becoming Mephisto than just his own redemption. They needed her. More Mephisto meant fewer Skia and lost souls. She also had the ability to produce sons and daughters who would grow up to be Mephisto. If he couldn’t pursue her for his own sake, he owed it to his brothers, to humanity, to follow through.
His elation completely gone, he grimly made himself set aside guilt and put on his shades, then he cleared her memory of the last ten minutes.
She blinked rapidly, her expression bewildered. Looking down, she touched her leg, then her lips before she turned her face up to look at him. “I just had the weirdest déjà vu. Like I forgot breaking my leg, and you healing it, but then I remembered.” She shook her head as if to clear it. “You said, ‘Forget all after you fell,’ and I did, until I didn’t.”
He was short of breath, panicky and confused. Why hadn’t she lost the memory? This had never happened before. “I … you …” How could she still remember? She didn’t remember him from San Francisco, he was sure. If it had worked then, why didn’t it work now?
“How did you do that, Jax?” She stared up at him with wide eyes. “Why did you?”
Great. They’d been together all of three hours, and already he’d screwed it up.
FOUR
SASHA WAS SERIOUSLY WIGGED OUT. JAX’S ABILITY TO HEAL her leg with just his hands made him extraordinary, but after he took off his shades, there was no doubt he wasn’t like other humans. Looking into his ebony eyes made her think about sad and scary things. Then he kissed her and she was so caught up in it, she thought only about how much she liked him, how perfect it felt to kiss him back.
Evidently, he didn’t feel the same way, and she was hurt and self-conscious. “Why did you try to mess with my head and make me forget? Was kissing me so awful, you wanted to erase my memory so I wouldn’t expect you to do it again?”
His brows raised above his shades. “Is that what you think?”
If she weren’t more wounded than confused, she wouldn’t have said it. “What else can I think? You freaked out, like you regretted it, like you wished you could take it back.”
Stepping closer, he grasped her arms and pulled her t
o her feet, instantly warming her in the freezing snow. “If I regret anything, it’s that you think I’m a freak.”
“I know you’re not like other people, but you’re not a freak.”
Dropping his hands, he stepped back. “I’m sorry, Sasha. I was hoping you and I … that we could maybe … look, I suck at this, okay? All I know for sure is that I like you and I won’t try to make you forget anything again.”
“Why should I believe you?”
He looked away from her, toward the ski run. “You probably shouldn’t.”
She waited to feel righteous … compelled to put on her skis, head down the mountain, and never look back. He was bad news, she was sure of it. Why, then, did she stay right here, staring at him and thinking he was absolutely irresistible? Why did her mind keep replaying lying in the snow, his warm body against hers? Maybe because it had been her first kiss. Watching him turn to look at her again, she wondered if it really had been as amazing as she remembered.
Only one way to find out. Closing the distance between them, she bent her neck to look up at him. “Will you kiss me again?”
“If you’ll let me.”
She reached up, slid his shades from his face, and dropped them to the snowy ground.
He rested his hands against her shoulders and looked as though he was at war with himself before he pulled her toward him, bending his head until his mouth was close to hers. “Remember, you asked,” he whispered, right before he settled his lips against hers.
Just like before, his taste was the same as his scent—sweet, tart, and spicy, like mulled wine, spiced cider, hot tea—everything warm and wonderful.
But this kiss wasn’t like the first. Not sweet. Not gentle.
Maybe he wasn’t the boy next door, maybe he wasn’t even a real boy, but holy smokes, did he know how to kiss. This wasn’t his first rodeo. His hands slid into her hair to hold her head, angling her so he could deepen the kiss. His lips were so warm— almost hot. She stepped into him, her arms sliding beneath his jacket, around his back to cling to his red sweater.
“I never knew kissing could be this incredible,” she murmured against his mouth. The first one was perfect, but there’d been no open mouths; he’d not been so close that she could feel his chest rise and fall against her.
“It’s you, Sasha. You’re incredible.”
Her body took on a will of its own, pushing against him, aligning with his, trembling. Beneath her palms, the muscles in his back stretched and moved when he lowered his hands from her head and wrapped her up in his arms. He broke the kiss and pressed her head to his shoulder, resting his cheek against her hair. “I don’t know why you asked, but I’m glad you did.”
She sighed, standing there next to him, inhaling his scent, and admitted she’d hoped it wouldn’t be good, that kissing him wouldn’t be amazing, that she had thought so only because it had been her first time.
Instead, she didn’t want this to end. “Tell me who you are, Jax.”
“Are you afraid?”
He had the strangest eyes she’d ever seen, he could heal with the touch of his hands, and he could make people forget things, but not once since she’d met him at the top of the lift did she feel afraid. The opposite really. Being with him the past few hours had made her feel everything in her life wasn’t so depressing.
“You’re not answering. Does that mean you are afraid?”
“No. Should I be?”
He kissed the crown of her head. “Never, Sasha. Never, ever be afraid of me.”
“Has this ever happened before? Someone not forgetting?”
“You’re the first. But really, honestly, it isn’t something I do very often. I fixed your leg so you wouldn’t have to start school in a cast. I kissed you because I wanted to, and I took off my shades so I could see your eyes better. I don’t know why I couldn’t make you forget, but I swear I’ll never try it again.”
She wanted to believe him. “I should let go of you and walk away.”
His lips traveled across her face, kissing her forehead, her nose, her temples. “Yes, you should.”
She didn’t.
They stood together, arms wrapped tightly, listening to the wind through the pines while snow fell softly all around. This was one of those moments in life she knew she’d never forget.
He moved his head so that his lips were close to her ear. “Run, Sasha. If you can do it, run like hell and don’t look back.”
Her breath came in short little gasps. “I don’t want to run.”
He kissed her again, holding her so closely, her heels lifted from the ground. She felt his desperation, knew that whatever was happening wasn’t a simple guy and girl thing. It scared her, but she felt so alive and in the moment, she was hyperaware of everything around her—a bird calling from overhead, the soft crunch of snow at their feet, the way his body moved beneath her palms, the taste of his mouth, even the warmth of his breath.
When he lifted his head and looked down into her eyes, she nearly drowned in the emotions rolling over her. His eyes made her feel like she was someone else, as if she knew things it was impossible for her to know.
“You didn’t run. Does that mean you’re going to give me a chance?”
“If I do, will you tell me who you are? Why your eyes are so different?”
“I’ll tell you.” He released her and stepped back. “Just give me a week and I’ll tell you what you want to know.”
Part of her wanted to know right this minute. Another part didn’t want to know ever. But she nodded anyway and said, “Will you tell me how you know about the Anabo thing?”
He bent to pick up his shades and slid them back onto his face. “I’ll tell you everything.”
While they stood there staring at each other, a terrifying scream carried across the mountains in an echo, startling her. “That sounded like … someone falling.”
His expression grim, Jax nodded toward the run. “Let’s go.”
Ten minutes later, when they reached the base, she saw a crowd gathered close to the cluster of buildings that made up Mountain Village. Skiing to the edge of the group, Sasha asked a woman if she knew what happened.
“Someone went off Devil’s Ridge. The ski patrol just radioed that she broke her neck.”
A tremor of premonition slid down her back. “Who was it?”
“A senior at Telluride High. Reilly O’Brien. So sweet, such a great kid. It’s awful.”
Sasha heard a familiar voice and turned just as Brett and East skied to a spot several yards away. They were grinning, and she stiffened when they knuckle bumped.
“What’s wrong?” Jax asked from just behind her. “Did you know Reilly?”
Turning around, she leaned close and whispered, “No, but she’s the reason my cousin ditched me up there. He skied after her, and she was looking over her shoulder at him like she was afraid. Now look at him. He’s smiling.”
“Are you saying you think he had something to do with her accident?”
Sasha looked up at his mirrored shades, at her distorted reflection. “Would you think I was crazy if I said yes?”
Jax took her to a nearby restaurant, and they were eating dessert before he finally coaxed everything out of her. She told him about her mom being deported, about the Ravens and Alex Kasamov, about meeting Mr. Bruno, and about what Brett had said to her on the way up the mountain that morning. The idea of her sitting down to dinner with a Skia scared the hell out of him, but he kept calm. She trusted him, and he needed to protect that, but he also needed to protect her. He would tell her as much as possible without revealing anything that might scare her off.
He decided to start with Anabo. “So what you’re wondering is if Brett thought Reilly was Anabo, and if that’s why he maybe pushed her over the edge.”
“I know it sounds ridiculous, but he believes this Eryx guy is where it’s at. He said he gets credits if he gets people to join, so maybe he thought he’d get credit if he killed somebody he thought was Anabo.”
“Why would he think that about Reilly?”
“I don’t know. Maybe she was scared to death of Mr. Bruno, like I was afraid of Alex Kasamov. Alex said that was why he suspected about me.”
Jax knew Reilly wasn’t Anabo. He’d seen her around town. So had his brothers. She was gorgeous, and if she was Anabo, they’d have known.
“Or, maybe Brett hit on her,” he suggested, “and she blew him off and he was pissed enough to kill her. Maybe he didn’t mean to shove her off. Maybe he didn’t do it at all.”
“You’re right. I’m jumping to conclusions, I guess, because I’m still so freaked out about what happened in San Francisco.” She dropped her gaze to the table, a world away. “It doesn’t seem real. I don’t know how they could hate me enough to want to kill me.”
Jax was still worried about his inability to clear her memory, mystified that it had worked before but not today. “You say you passed out and when you woke up, it was early morning and they were gone. If they meant to kill you, why didn’t they?”
“I think they must have thought I was dead.”
“And no one checked to make sure?”
“It seems stupid, now that I think about it. If you’re going to kill somebody, then leave her alive, she’s an eyewitness, right? Why weren’t they worried about me going to the cops?”
“Maybe because it would be your word against theirs. You said you had no wounds, no bruises.”
Her expression became more confused. “I don’t get that, Jax. I didn’t dream it, wasn’t hallucinating or anything, because when I woke up, there was blood all over the floor, and those rocks …” Her eyes widened. “I did dream about it last night, but it was weird, like dreams usually are. All the Ravens froze in place, and this guy showed up, out of nowhere. He stabbed Alex, then he heal—” She stopped and stared at him, seconds ticking by before she finished. “He healed me.”
Jax took another bite of cheesecake, pretending not to notice her pause, or the way she was looking at him. “What did the guy in the dream look like?”
THE MEPHISTO COVENANT Page 8
