by Dara Kent
I rolled my eyes. Me, stubborn? Please. Who do you think I learned it from?
Flashing me a million-watt smile, Jensen slipped in closer to me and my phone. “Hi, Iris. I’d be happy to fill you in on what happened with Riss and the demon.”
While Jensen chatted with my mom, I went to sit next to Lily on the couch, blankly staring at the TV screen.
She nudged me with her elbow.
“Traitor,” I hissed in response.
“Flower power!” She ducked away from me before my open palm could connect with the back of her head.
No matter how old I got, it was like I was fifteen again when both my mom and sister were involved. “Lily, seriously, are you ever going to outgrow the flower power thing? You’re twenty-four years old for god’s sake.”
“What? I like it. How many families all have flower names?”
“Yeah, exactly. The practically non-existent number should tell you something.”
“Whatever. You’re just grumpy because—”
“Because I got my ass kicked by a demon, and then I found out my ex put another tracking spell on me. Oh, plus my traitor of a sister got our mom involved. Yeah, those things might make me grumpy.”
Sometimes I wondered if I was the only one who acknowledged the seriousness of our situation. Lily and I were fighting for not only our lives but our souls. Meanwhile, my family, and Jensen for that matter, acted like we could have relatively normal lives. As if the demon-hunting gig was merely a dangerous job with consequences that wouldn’t affect us for the rest of eternity.
“Just forgive Jensen already. He means well.”
I snorted. “The road to Hell is paved with well-meaning intentions. In our case, that could end up being more than an expression.”
“He’s a good guy who happens to be slightly overprotective. He—”
“You say slightly overprotective, I say controlling. And by the way, let me reiterate, it was a shit move to tattle on me to Mom.”
Lily crossed her arms over her chest and glared resolutely at the TV. “It got the job done, so I’m not sorry. Plus, who are you to call anyone out on controlling behavior? Hello, pot, let me introduce you to kettle.”
“Whatever.”
We fell into a tense silence, broken when Jensen leaned over the back of the couch to hand me my phone. “Iris— I mean your mom said she expects a call later.”
Tilting my head back, I stared into Jensen’s mirth-filled eyes. It would be so easy to forgive him. It wasn’t like I would even have to apologize. I’d merely have to stop pushing him away. To let him settle back into the Jensen-sized chasm in my life.
No. I can’t. I can’t give in. If I do, he’ll just push my boundaries further next time. And there especially needs to be boundaries because of what you are. It’s for his own good, too. He could end up dead if he gets any more involved with your hunting.
“We’ve got to go.” Grabbing Lily’s arm, I yanked her to her feet.
Jensen snatched my free wrist, pulling me away from my sister and over the couch. I let out a muffled sound of protest as his lips smashed into mine.
Fuck. Where’s my mask when I need it?
I bit his lip hard, and he recoiled with a few choice curse words of his own.
Giving him a smug smile, I marched toward the front door. “Come on, Lily. We’re going now.”
Jensen’s lips pulled back from his teeth in a savage grin, blood welling up from where I’d bitten him. “Oh, come on, Val, you know I like it when you play rough. I just wasn’t expecting to need my safe word tonight.”
Notching my chin up, I continued our two-person procession toward the front door, slamming it behind us once we were out.
Lily stared at me with wide eyes and mouth hanging open. “Umm …” She cleared her throat. “Does he really need a safe word?”
I rolled my eyes. “Mind your business.”
“Oh my god! You guys are freaks! I knew it! I need you to tell me everything!”
There were some things I preferred not to discuss in detail with my sister, or anyone for that matter, and sex happened to be one of them. Lily, on the other hand, had decided to wait until she found her ‘true love’ before handing in her V-card, leaving her with a seemingly unquenchable curiosity about the topic.
Shoving my hands into my pockets, I trudged the few doors down to our condo. I wish I’d thought about the potential fallout of hooking up with someone who lives on the same block as me.
“You have to tell me!” Lily whined. “It’s why he calls you Val, isn’t it? I thought it was because you’re a badass hunter, but it’s because—”
“I don’t have to tell you anything.”
“It’s for research.”
“Maybe you should try a little bit of hands-on research instead of interrogating me and watching The Princess Bride for the billionth time.” Jamming my key into the front door, I bustled in, Lily hot on my heels.
“Jensen is your true love though, and I want to know what’s possible in the sex department. I mean, most people make it seem as if kinky sex is only for short-term relationships or hook-ups, and not—”
Shrugging out of my leather jacket, I sighed heavily. “Everyone is different, Lily. You have to experiment to find out what you like. And Jensen is not my true love. There’s no such thing.”
She scrunched up her nose. “I don’t think that’s one hundred percent true. I’m a bisexual virgin, and I know I like both girls and boys, yet I haven’t technically tried either.”
Rubbing my throbbing temples, I scowled at her. I didn’t miss the fact that she’d ignored my denial of Jensen and all things true love. She was getting to be as bad as our mom. “Sexual orientation is not the same as discovering what you like in the bedroom. Some things you have to try to figure out if you like them or not.”
“But—”
“I need some sleep.”
Pivoting, I dashed up the stairs, making it to my room before she could follow. I turned the lock and sagged with relief against the door. Between a demon getting the best of me tonight, and my unplanned interaction with Jensen, I had a lot to think about, and I wanted to be left alone to do so.
4
I knew the status quo—that Lily and I were fucked—but healthy doses of denial combined with bravado, snarky attitude, and just a touch of the oh so dangerous emotion of hope, propelled me through my existence. I had vivid and clear memories of my life before I was twice marked, but those times were brightly painted masterpieces that belonged to someone else. I was irrevocably changed that day on the side of the road, and I despised being reminded of it. I didn’t need to think about a life that could have been. One that didn’t include knowledge of demons and angels, and quite possibly would have allowed me to be truly happy, even if it was fleeting.
Underneath it all, as much as I hated to admit it even to myself, fear constantly simmered. I’d already lost so much … I couldn’t deal with losing everything. It was Lily and me against the world, with a cheering section made up of our mom. We were lucky in that sense. How many mothers would take both of their daughters becoming hunters by force in stride the way she did? Certainly, it had taken proof in the form of coming face-to-face with a demon before she believed us not to have lost our minds, but even still, she handled it better than most would.
Then there was Jensen. The warlock who had chosen to not only move to Nashville, Tennessee shortly after we migrated there, but into the Harpeth Trace condos several doors down from my and Lily’s residence. I’d been unable to resist—or avoid—him from practically day one. But the truth was, I was always looking for reasons to break it off with him. There was no need for me to add any other essential people into my life that could be ripped away at any moment. Sure, he was less likely than the average human, but the sooner I cut him loose, the better we would both be.
Plus, what business did I have getting involved in any kind of romantic relationship when my focus needed to be on killing the denizens of H
ell? My time was limited before I shuffled off from this mortal coil, and if my kill tally wasn’t high enough, well, Hell would be getting a new resident. Lily and my mom didn’t accept my excuses to push Jensen away, insisting that I simply had to believe in good things, and they would follow. I wasn’t like them though; I couldn’t believe in fairy tales. Life is disappointing. Fact. It doesn’t matter if you believe it or not. Fact. No amount of positive energy is going to change anything. Fact.
“Another.” I motioned to the empty shot glass in front of me, obviously needing more liquor to wash away the pensive lean of my thoughts. It would do no one any good, least of all me, to contemplate the disastrous state of my life. It was never going to change.
Benny eyed me warily, his grip tightening on the bottle of Don Julio Blanco in his right hand. “Um … maybe you’ve had enough?”
I narrowed my eyes. “Remind me why I hired you again?”
Benny was a sweet kid, twenty-one years old, and emotionally barely out of diapers by my estimation. Tall and lanky, bronzed skin, soulful, dark brown eyes, and a set of dimples in his baby face to boot. He did well behind the bar of my eighties-themed bar Wilde Stallions, where he served libations several nights a week. That’s how it was done in Music City. With an oversaturation of talented musicians, they worked for tips-only when performing at live venues, needing a job to support their music habit. Some eventually got lucky, but most didn’t. I did my best to support my employees, but the bar business had taken a huge hit during the pandemic, the recovery slow, and I needed to keep food on my table as well. The demon-hunting job didn’t pay top dollar … or at all.
“Because I begged you.”
What? Oh, yeah, why I hired him. Focus, Riss. Snorting, I tapped two fingers against my shot glass. “Yes, yes, you did. And don’t you forget it.”
Benny leaned forward, dropping his voice. “I’m serious, Riss. You’ve had more than your usual tonight. Maybe you should slow down, have a glass of water at least.”
“Fill it up, Benny. I mean it.”
“Are you at least going to take off your mask, or are you going to keep lifting it to drink and putting it back? It’s kind of weird.”
I sighed heavily. “If I close my eyes, I could probably convince myself that you’re my sister.” Ripping my mask off, I flung it on the bar. “Fine. I don’t care anymore anyways.”
“The pandemic is over,” Benny offered. “There really isn’t a need for—”
“Just give me the damn tequila and go, Benny. I’m not in a good mood tonight, and I don’t want to say something we’ll both regret.” Snatching the bottle from him, I resisted the urge to douse myself with alcohol before shooting more. I was a bit of a germaphobe before the virus, and now every day was a battle to not don a hazmat suit.
Hesitating only a moment, Benny scooted down to the other end of the bar to start breaking down his station. It was the close of the night, and only me and the staff were left. The manager was on sight in her office, so without any pressing business, I was there simply to get drunk. After about twenty minutes alone in my room with my thoughts earlier, I’d hopped out my second-story window and called a taxi to my East Nashville bar. Lily was going to be surprised when I stumbled home at sunrise.
“Riss.”
No nickname now, huh? What’s your new game going to be? Snatching up my mask, I quickly hooked the loops around my ears before spinning around on my stool. “You’ve gone into full on stalking mode, I see.” Narrowing my eyes, I shot Jensen a death glare. Both of him. Huh. Maybe Benny was right about needing to call it quits with the tequila tonight.
“If looks could kill,” Jensen muttered, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I can feel your death glare even from behind that thing.”
“You’re meant to.”
“Hey, Jensen!” Benny hollered from the other end of the bar. “Long time no see!”
I didn’t miss the unspoken part of “Glad you’re back.” Because everyone loved Jensen. Especially when it came to dealing with him over me. Apparently, I was intimidating despite my best efforts, so I’d given up trying.
Leaning close, Jensen’s breath fanned across my cheek, his lips skimming the shell of my ear. “We need to talk. In private.”
I shivered, my tequila-addled brain failing to remind me why I should be mad at him. Then an errant thought sprung to the forefront of my mind, causing slight panic to surge. Was my mask up or down on the bar when I picked it up? How long ago was that part of the bar wiped off? Fuckity-fuck-fuck. I put a contaminated mask back on my face and it’s all Jensen’s fault! That’s so much worse than not wearing a mask at all. Oh, god—
My breath hitched as adrenaline surged, my world spinning out of control. I swayed on the barstool, clutching at my chest. I’m infected. It’s too late. I’m going to die. I’m going to die and go straight to Hell for all of eternity.
“Hey, hey, hey.” Jensen’s hands slid up to grip my shoulders firmly. “Look at me, Val. What’s going on?”
No. No. It’ll be fine. Pestilence is gone, and the virus went with him. You’re not contaminated. It’s— Unless— What if …
I tugged at my mask, locked in indecision, my thoughts muddled and laced with unbridled fear. Fuck. Why am I like this?
Blinking rapidly, I stared up at Jensen, the concern in his eyes all-consuming as he hovered close. But I wouldn’t … couldn’t let him or anyone else know how bad it was for me. How it was easier to deal with live demons than the ones within my head. As if to prove my point, flames erupted in my peripheral vision, serving as a blazing sign of my current instability.
Whipping my mask off, I spun back to the bar and grabbed the bottle of Don Julio, my hands shaking as I poured another shot, downing it immediately. Even not chilled—like I preferred—the liquor left a pleasant burn in its wake, somehow dousing the hallucination of flames, and convincing me a few more shots were exactly what I needed to calm myself.
“Planning on drowning your emotions?” Jensen grated.
Ignoring his comment, I lifted the glass to my mouth and tipped it back. Jensen had lost the right to comment on any of my life choices when he became my ex. It didn’t matter if what he’d done had saved my life, or if it was kind of sweet when you looked at it through the lens of our world. I had no business hoping for any kind of happily-ever-after. We lived in the real world, not a romance novel.
“Val,” Jensen rumbled, my name sounding like a curse.
And back to not so subtly using his term of endearment to remind me of … everything. But it won’t work. I’m not falling for his tricks. “I’m busy. You know where the door is.”
Jensen grabbed me by the shoulders and spun me back around to face him. His nostrils flared as he fought with his temper. I was well aware that as much as he pissed me off, I had the same talent with him. But who didn’t like a good fight? Especially when it ended with—
No. Don’t even think about it. Stupid tequila is trying to make my clothes come off. Not acceptable.
“Tomas is dead.”
I blinked, my mind reeling from the abrupt change of topic. “What did you say?”
“Tomas is dead.”
Tomas McReeves was a twice marked badass who made the rest of us look like we were playing in the minors. In his prime, he was only a few years older than me. We struck up a friendship a few years back when our paths crossed, mostly because being twice marked was rare and we understood each other in a way neither the Hell or Heaven single marked could. It was the kind of bond one might share with another when you’re stuck in a foxhole together fighting the same battle. Or at least I imagined that was the case.
“H-How?” I sputtered, still trying to process that someone or something had taken out Tomas. He had always seemed invincible to me even if I knew such a thing was impossible. “And wait … how did you find out before me?”
“Lily sent me to find you.”
Seriously? She knew how pissed I was about the tracking spell and she still as
ked him to use it to track me down. “Traitor. She’s lucky she’s my flesh and blood.”
Jensen pulled me to my feet, and I awkwardly stumbled into him. “Come on, let’s get you home. We can talk about everything there. This conversation isn’t for everyone’s ears.”
I prodded him in the chest, the edges of his face blurring as I stared up at it. “Where is it? Huh? Where’s the tracking spell? Don’t think I forgot about it. Because I didn’t. And I want it off. O-F-F,” I drawled out. Or I’m pretty sure I did since I couldn’t tell by my ex’s reaction. He merely slid his arm around my waist, supporting my weight. “My coat. I need my coat.”
“Benny,” Jensen called down the bar, “have you seen her coat anywhere?”
Benny shrugged. “Not sure I saw her come in with one.”
I blew raspberries at him. “Of course I did. It’s cold out.”
Jensen chuckled. “It’s sixty degrees out, Val. Chilly, maybe. Cold? Not so much.”
“Still jacket weather. I’ve lived in the south for a long time. I’m not used to the cold anymore.”
Lily and I had been living in Nashville for quite some time. Between meeting Jensen and acquiring the bar when I killed off the previous demon owner, it was a convenient home base. Wilde Stallions brought in a moderate-income and didn’t need my constant attention, which gave me time to focus on my life’s purpose. Lily did freelance photography on the side, which also was booming in Nashville with artist headshots and other music-related jobs. After leaving our mother behind in Pittsburgh when Lily turned eighteen, we’d lived in half a dozen cities before accidentally putting down roots in good ole Music City. But maybe it’s time we move on again.
Jensen turned us toward the door, half dragging me beside him. “Benny will put your jacket in the office if he finds it.”
Benny nodded. “Yup.”
“Fine.” I didn’t want to admit it, but I was beginning to think I didn’t wear a jacket. Ugh. Why is tequila such a good idea until it isn’t? “And I’m just letting you take me home because it’s easier than calling an Uber or taxi or waiting for Benny. Don’t read too much into this.”
