by Dara Kent
Panic washed over me. What if no one gets to her in time? What if I die right here, unable to help my baby sister?
I have to do something. I have to help her before I die.
Please. I cast my thoughts heavenward, praying sincerely for the first time in years. Please, God. Help my sister. I’ll do anything. Anything. Just help her. I know it’s too late for me. But it’s not for her. I know it’s not for her. Please. She’s a good person. The best. Exactly the kind that deserves to be saved.
Everything stopped between one heartbeat and the next, time itself seemingly frozen as a man appeared in front of my car. Before I could focus on him fully, he was beside me, pulling the driver’s side door open. Leaning in, he grinned. “I’m here to save your sister.”
I blinked, the man eluding my focus no matter what I did. For that reason, he formed more of an impression than supplying any real details. I knew he was beautiful, and yet something about him was chilling, setting off internal warning bells on every level.
“Save my sister?” I finally managed. “How? Are you an angel?” I decided to ignore the likelihood of my sister’s would-be savior being a figment of my imagination and went with it. I wanted to believe in angels and miracles in that moment.
Ignoring my question, he asked me one of his own. “Is it true that you would do anything to save your sister’s life? Because, if so, I would like to offer you a deal.”
His choice of words caused fear to shoot through my hope, addling it with holes, but I persisted regardless. “Yes. Anything.”
“When you die, you will belong to me. That’s the deal. Your soul for all of eternity in exchange for your sister getting to live.”
Not an angel then. Most likely a demon. Even that’s better than a figment of my imagination if it means Lily gets to live. I never thought of myself as the self-sacrificing type. Especially when it came to my sister. There’d been many times over our years together that I thought I might actually kill her with my bare hands. But I supposed things looked different at the end of your life. I only got a short nineteen years, but Lily hadn’t even gotten that being five years younger than me.
“No tricks. Lily is to be fully healed and gets a long, healthy life.”
The man chuckled. “No tricks, of course.”
I nodded slowly. “My soul for her life. Deal.” What are you doing? Your soul? That’s forever. But again, I couldn’t seem to bypass the urge to do anything to save my sister. Even sell my soul to a probable demon.
He leaned into me, his breath painfully hot against my ear. “They’ll come for you when I’m done here, I’m sure of it. I can feel them waiting to pounce on this opportunity. But no matter, you’ll still be mine in the end. I’ve lived long enough to learn patience.”
He snapped his fingers, and pain seared my left wrist, wringing a scream from my raw throat just as everything went dark.
I was weightless, warm, and content. A comforting, masculine voice curled through my awareness as I slowly fought my way back to consciousness.
“You’ve been marked by Lucifer himself, daughter of his blood, you and your sister both. But because of your selfless motives, you both will also be given a second chance.”
Confusion nettled, but I listened without comment, somehow knowing the rest would become clear momentarily.
“You will seek your redemption through the elimination of demons. Hunt them down and kill as many as you can. Upon your death, if you’ve done enough good in this world, then I will break your deal and reclaim your soul for Heaven.”
My left wrist became uncomfortably warm, and I squirmed against the slight pain.
It abruptly stopped, and I settled, waiting.
“You are now twice marked, once by Hell, and once by Heaven. Use your second chance wisely. Both of you.”
Both of us?
Knowledge filled me to the brim, like some kind of massive info drop directly into my brain.
Before Lucifer fell, becoming the King of Hell, and the bane of Heaven, he fathered dozens of children with human women. He’d cared and loved those children, in his own way, but his exile from Heaven twisted his emotions, ultimately causing him to want his descendants with him, despite the cost to them. He kept track of his bloodlines, watching and waiting. For when one of his descendants, no matter how diluted the blood was as the centuries passed, called for help, he heard, and he offered a deal. But of course, Lucifer never played fairly. While I lay dying, offering up my soul to save Lily’s, she’d done the same. We would both live because of our forefather, but he marked us as his, bound for Hell upon our deaths.
But there was a game being played, already in progress when we entered the arena. Heaven, taking every opportunity to thwart Lucifer, rewarded Lily and me for our selfless deals by giving us a second chance. We were marked as theirs as well, under the condition we hunted demons on their behalf. We were the perfect warriors, having latent abilities—no longer latent apparently, thanks to them—that made us stronger, faster, and more durable than the average human. Plus, because of whose blood ran through our veins, Lucifer wouldn’t simply dispose of us for killing his subjects. He would let us play the game, watching and waiting to interfere again. It seemed to amuse him.
Others had come before us. So many others. More than I could count. But I wasn’t shown their fates, therefore I didn’t know if any were successful in making it to Heaven instead of Hell. All I could see was that they died painfully and in turmoil …
Jolting up, my gaze immediately locked with my sister’s, who was sitting next to me in the snow outside of my car.
“What did you do?” I demanded, even though I already knew.
Bewilderment danced across her face. “Me? I bargained to save your life. And now I’m twice marked or something.” She blinked rapidly. “None of this is real. It can’t be.”
I stared down the line of my body, not even a spec of blood marring my ensemble. Flicking my gaze to my left wrist, I ran my thumb over what appeared to be a fresh tattoo. It was a black starburst filled in, surrounded by an outline of a second circular star. Two stars. Twice marked.
Glancing back up at Lily, I swore under my breath. “This is real. I know you feel it in your bones, too.” I tapped my temple. “I know you also got the brain download of everything. And we haven’t just been twice marked … we’ve just been doubly damned.”
A losing battle. Pawns in a war we didn’t sign up to fight but would anyway because we had no other choice. I could see it all clearly. Lily and I lived, but our lives had been sacrificed all the same. No matter who won in the end, we were already lost.
3
Coming to instant awareness, I sat straight up, nearly smacking into Lily’s hovering face. She staggered back with a squeak, muttering to herself about how she should have known better.
“What the hell happened?” I rubbed my temples, a lingering headache throbbing there. A shadow of a memory flittered through my mind, dissipating immediately.
“I’ll tell you what happened. You got sloppy, and then you got your ass kicked,” an achingly familiar voice practically growled.
My eyes widened briefly before narrowing at my traitorous sister. “You brought me to Jensen’s?” It came out as a question, but I already knew the answer. Now that I had a chance to notice, I recognized the worn-in, black leather couch situated on the maroon area rug directly in front of the massive TV screen. I’d spent many hours cuddled on that very same couch while watching movies and doing … other things.
Lily waved her hands wildly back and forth in front of her while shaking her head. “No. Nope. He showed up right after that demon got a hold of you. Which, by the way, was not a Gemini as it turns out. Mine was. So totally not my fault because where is the other one? But yeah, yours was something else.”
Swinging my gaze around, it landed on the man in question, Jensen Blackwell, aka my on-again-off-again boyfriend, who was currently in off status for exactly the thing I suspected he’d done tonight. His
large frame leaned against the entranceway to his tiny kitchen, both his stature and presence combining to shrink the space around him. Faded jeans and a rumpled T-shirt clung to his lean, muscular body, his dark hair artfully disheveled, and his angular jaw covered in a day or two of scruff, showcasing his sensual, full lips.
Fuck me. Did he get more attractive since the last time I saw him?
Jensen’s ice blue eyes met mine with challenge. “Yeah, I did it again. And I won’t apologize because it saved your life.”
“Saved my life?” I scoffed, pulling myself to my feet. “I highly doubt that.”
“Weeell …” Lily interjected. “He’s not completely wro—”
“This is between me and him, Lily. Stay out of it.”
“Whatever,” she muttered, flopping down in the spot I just vacated and grabbing the remote off the floor. The TV blared to life a moment later.
I stalked across the room, fists balled at my sides. “Where is it, Jensen? Where did you put the tracking spell?” And when for that matter? It’d been two very long months since we’d seen each other in the flesh. Had he been keeping tabs on me the entire time? My eyes slid shut briefly, already knowing the answer. Son of a bitch. He’s been magically stalking me.
“How about we skip past this part,” he crossed his arms over his chest, his muscles rippling delectably, “and you tell me what you saw while you were out because that demon was searching for something in your mind.”
I quirked an eyebrow. Ah, that’s why he’s claiming he saved my life. Probably true since he most likely used magic to yank it out before it could do any real damage, but there’s no fucking way I’m admitting it. “It was in my head and I’m not a vegetable? I call bullshit. That’s not the MO of any demon I’ve ever heard of before.”
“You’re calling bullshit on me?”
“Mmm-hmm, yep. I don’t think it actually got in at all. I think you just want to play hero so I’ll forgive you.” Twice marked were naturally resistant to demon mojo of any kind. Not completely impenetrable, although pretty close to it. For the demon in question to have gotten in, and so quickly, it was powerful. Given enough time, it would have ripped through my skull, leaving nothing but mush behind. Jensen knew it, and I knew it, but I was going to stick with denying the entire incident.
A low growl of frustration escaped him. “It was stomping around in your mind, and we need to figure out what it wanted. And if it found it.”
Shit. Did it get away after he yanked it out? Is that why he doesn’t know? And more importantly … does that mean I lost another set of blades?
Closing the last little bit of distance between us, I poked my index finger into his chest. “No. I’m not going to let you redirect my focus. Where is it this time? Spit it out.”
His lips pulled back from his perfect, white teeth into a feral smile. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
My body vibrated as anger swept through my veins, heating my blood. I wanted to yell and scream. To punch him. To shake him hard enough that it rattled some sense into his thick skull. To kiss—
No. Through gritted teeth, I ground out, “Yes, I would like to know. Which is exactly why I asked!” My chest heaved as I sucked in shallow breaths, my heart thrashing against my ribcage. The man infuriated me like no other.
He brushed a calloused thumb along my jaw. I snapped at it, causing him to withdraw.
“Come on, Riss. Don’t you think it’s about time we made up?” His demeanor suddenly softened and warmed, his pupils dilating as his gaze swept up my body, letting me know exactly what he had in mind for our reunion.
Our sex life had never been a problem. It was everything else about our relationship that got in the way. Jensen Blackwell was a powerful warlock from a long line of powerful warlocks. He’d put some distance between himself and his family because he didn’t see eye-to-eye with them about how his life should go. Unfortunately for me, he picked up some bad habits from them before the separation. Like his idea that it was okay to use magic on someone without permission as long as it came from a place of caring.
The tracking spell in question was a magical brand burned somewhere on my skin that let him know where I was at all times. It also let him know if I was in distress. Then he’d portal in to save the day like he did tonight. My issue was that I wasn’t anyone’s damsel in distress. What he was implying about my abilities to take care of myself was unacceptable and different from merely helping. Help, yes … saving, no. One was fine, the other not. I couldn’t seem to make Jensen understand the difference. Or to grasp the concept of boundaries.
Jensen reached for me again, and I flung his hand away before he could make contact. He huffed out an annoyed sigh. “Don’t you get it? If I hadn’t put the tracking spell on you, then who knows what would have happened tonight?”
“I’ll tell you what would have happened. Either I would have woken up and kicked some demon ass, or I wouldn’t have. I risk my life every time—”
“Yeah, I know you risk your life every time you go up against a demon. You and Lily both do.” Running a hand through his hair, he flicked his gaze away, the muscles in his jaw jumping. “Riss, please. Can’t you see that I’m trying to protect you? You and Lily. If you don’t care about your own wellbeing, then you—”
“Oh! Oh no you don’t! Don’t you dare try to use my sister to guilt me. Don’t you ever try to do that again!” I shoved at him. “You’re pulling out all the stops tonight, aren’t you? What’s next, huh? You going to tell me how much you’ve missed me?”
He lifted his gaze to mine again, his eyes glistening as they filled with remorse. “I did … do miss you. So much.” He shuffled closer, his breath intermingling with mine, and his voice breaking low. “Come on, Val. You need to understand. I only track you because I worry. And I worry because I love you.”
Don’t you dare fall for his crap again, Riss. Don’t you friggin’ dare. He’s working you over. He knows exactly what to do to get what he wants from you. He’s a master manipulator. Even the switch from Riss to his nickname for you, Val, is carefully deployed. It’s such a stupid nickname, and yet he’s totally Pavlov’d you with it. Val equals warm, fuzzy feelings. He wants to remind you that he calls you Val because he thinks of you as his Valkyrie, strong and powerful. And while you’re pruning under the associated praise, and also thinking of all the intimate times he moaned that name, he’ll slip past your defenses.
But … he does love you. There’s never been any doubt about that. And the nickname isn’t new. Maybe I’m just not communicating my side well. Perhaps if I just—
No! See. This is what he does. He does whatever he wants and then he manipulates you into forgiving him. He’s never going to change. He’s never going to compromise.
But … you don’t compromise either. A relationship shouldn’t be all or nothing. You have issues of your own. Issues that you expect him to live with when you refuse to accept his. That hardly seems fair.
No! He’s making you doubt yourself again. You don’t even want to be in a relationship. Never did. He manipulated you into that, too. Look away from him! Don’t let his baby blues suck you in! Don’t think about how amazing it would feel to let him hold you right now. Don’t—
“Val?” Jensen cupped the side of my face. I fought to not lean into the caress. “Please forgive me.”
Swaying toward him, my gaze darting to his full lips, I internally groaned. The man has some kind of super-powered pheromones, I swear. I lose all resolve when I’m within ten feet of him.
Sensing my weakened state, like a shark scenting a gushing, open wound, he ensnared my lips with his. I sank into the kiss, letting his tongue dance fiercely with mine, warmth blooming—
My phone vibrated against my ribs, blaring to life from the inside pocket of my jacket. Breaking away from Jensen, I fumbled to answer.
“Hello?” I breathed, not bothering to look at the caller ID.
“Riss!” My mom’s worry pierced my eardrum. “Are you okay?”
Swiveling on my heels, I glared at the back of Lily’s head. “You told Mom?” I hissed.
Without turning around, she lifted her hand to give me a middle finger salute. It was her way of telling me that she had indeed let our mom know because it would cause an immediate halt to the drama developing between Jensen and me.
“Chrysanthemum Rose Wilde, don’t you dare ignore me! Your sister told me a demon got the best of you and I’m worried sick!”
Hanging my head, I turned back in Jensen’s direction in time to catch his smirk, which he quickly covered with a cough. He knew how much I hated my full name. Who names their kids Chrysanthemum Rose and Lily Daisy? Especially with the last name Wilde attached. I’d gone by Riss for as far back as I could remember … because, seriously, it had been cruel and unusual punishment to expect me to learn to spell that monstrosity. I still screwed it up every now and then. Luckily, it was only required on legal documents.
“Mom, listen, whatever Lily told you was most definitely an exaggeration. I’m fine.”
“Mmm-hmm. I want to talk to your Jenny.”
I scowled. Exactly how much had Lily managed to communicate to her while I’d been distracted by my dastardly ex? “He’s not mine anymore, Mom. We broke up.”
“I want to talk to your Jenny,” she demanded again.
My mom simply would not accept the end of my relationship with Jensen. Somewhere along the line, she concluded that we were meant to be, and she considered him the son she never had. For his part, he played along with her ridiculousness, even tolerating it when she called him Jenny, something no one else would ever think of doing.
I sighed. Once my mom got something stuck in her head there was no point in arguing with her, although I still did often enough. “There’s no need to yell. You’re already on speakerphone and Jensen can hear you.”
“Oh, good.” Her tone changed when she addressed him. “Hi, Jenny, sweetheart. Since my stubborn daughter doesn’t want to explain what happened tonight, I’m going to rely on you to tell me the details.”
