by Raquel Lyon
Her body arched into mine, and I gripped it snugly, pressing her tighter to my groin as I ground against her. Then, when the movie failed to stick its nose into my business, I upped the ante and slid my hand up her thigh and under the silken fabric of her dress, eager to reach the soft warmth of what I knew lay underneath. Heat surged through me as I tugged at the lacy fabric my fingers met, but before I could get to the good stuff, Sophie tensed.
Her hands pressed against my shoulders. “Stop.” She panted. “Connor, stop.”
I looked down at her pinched expression. “What’s the matter?”
“What is with you tonight?” she asked.
“Isn’t this what you want?”
“Of course it is. You know that. But one minute you’re saying we should talk, and the next minute you’ve ruined my dress. What’s going on, Con?”
I fought to regain my composure as I stood up and turned from temptation. Sophie was right. I’d lost it, and this was totally not the moment to be caught with my pants down. What mattered most was getting through whatever was coming and ensuring we all came out the other side unscathed. Everything else would have to take a back seat.
“I’m waiting,” Sophie said.
I stepped back to her with my head bowed. She was leaning against the bench with her arms folded across her paint water-splattered dress. I unfurled them and linked her hands in mine as I took a calming breath.
“I’ve been lying to you.”
“Do you think I don’t know that?”
“No, but—”
“It’s nice to see you finally admitting it.”
“You have to understand what it’s been like for me.”
“How can I, when you insist upon keeping me in the dark?”
Just spit it out, you sissy. “Every minute of every day that I’ve been back, I’ve been plagued by flashbacks, nightmares, visions—you name it. I’d hoped they would diminish with time, but these past two days have proven they’re here to stay. It’s the Devil’s doing. I’m sure it is. I’m still his pawn, and he keeps twisting the screw, hoping I’ll break. But I’m not going to let him win. I have to live with the things I’ve done; I know that now, and I can only beg that you’ll forgive me.”
She tugged my hands. “Connor, I knew what I was getting myself into when I joined this family. I said goodbye to normality a long time ago. I don’t care how many demons you had to kill to come home. You did what you had to do. All I care about is that you’re here. And that maybe if you stopped bottling things up and talked about them, they wouldn’t weigh so heavily on your mind.”
“I don’t need a therapy session, Soph. I need the Devil to stop fucking with my life.”
“Then stop letting him. Shut him out,” she said. “Maybe Beth knows a spell—”
“A spell can’t change the past.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Let me tell you, then.” The slam of a car door momentarily disrupted my train of thought, and I left Sophie to walk over to the window. “There was a time while I was away that I had help.”
“So? Everyone needs help sometimes.”
I looked down to the driveway where our visitors were bundling their luggage into a waiting taxi, and then scanned the grounds. All seemed clear of trouble. So far, so good. I turned back to the room. “From a woman.”
Sophie stiffened. “A woman?”
“Yeah. She’s downstairs.”
“Oh? Why?”
“Because she was already mixed up in the thing the Assembly needed help with when I got there, and… well… She didn’t remember me, and then it all got a bit weird, and I had to tell her.”
I returned to the bench, but Sophie’s brow furrowed as she moved to avoid me. “This woman… What’s her name?”
Here we go. “Now don’t get mad—”
“Her name, Connor.”
“She’s just a friend, I promise.”
Her stare was unwavering. “Tell me her name.”
I almost whispered it. “Charlotte.”
Sophie stilled, and her skin appeared to pale—if that were possible considering the lightness of it under her freckles. “I knew it,” she said. “This is what you’ve been hiding from me, isn’t it? And there’s really only one reason I can think of why that would be.”
“Soph…”
Her eyes narrowed. “You slept with her, didn’t you?”
“Soph…”
“Didn’t you?”
With a possible son out there somewhere, I could hardly deny it, but I couldn’t look her in the eye when I admitted it. I lowered my gaze and slowly nodded.
“I see,” she said after a second’s pause. “And are you trying to say that the Devil made you do that?”
“No. At least, I don’t think so. I wish that could be my excuse, but the only one I have is that I wasn’t in my right mind. I’m so sorry I betrayed you. If I’d known you were waiting for me, I wouldn’t have looked twice at another woman. How angry are you, on a scale of one to ten?”
“Angry? Let me see. You went against my wishes, and against Seb’s orders, and disappeared for two days without either of us knowing where you went. Now I find that you spent that time with a woman you’ve been dreaming about for weeks and yet denied any knowledge of—when in actuality, you do, in fact, know her intimately. Why would I be angry?”
“I get it. You’re a ten. And you’ve every right to be.”
“No. I haven’t. We don’t live as a human family does. What kind of person would I be if I employed double standards? But it doesn’t stop me from being pissed at you anyway.”
“I’ll understand if you can’t forgive me.”
Her voice remained strained. “There’s nothing to forgive. At least, not for that. It’s the lying part I can’t stand. You should have told me.”
“I’m sorry.”
Silence hung in the air, until it was broken by the crunch of tyres on gravel as the taxi drove away.
Sophie’s anger lessened as I watched her digest everything I’d said.
“You know, my heart broke the day you died,” she said, “and it stayed broken until the moment I found you huddled under that cloth in the mill. Having you back here made it whole again. I tried so hard to make things right, and I literally went through Hell to get you your memories back, but after that, you started drifting away. I thought it was me. That you blamed me for everything you’d gone through.”
“How can you say that?”
“Quite easily. I blame myself every day. You wouldn’t have died if it wasn’t for me. But if you’d have told me the truth about what was going on, I might not have felt like you were trying to punish me.”
I took hold of the top of her arms and gazed down into her eyes—now filled with more sadness than anything else. “Aw, Soph. You should know I would never do that. Why would you even think it? I wasn’t punishing you; I was punishing me by staying away from you. I just felt… feel so guilty about betraying you. I don’t deserve your love.”
“You didn’t have to lie.”
“I thought it best that you didn’t know, that somehow I could make it all go away.”
“And you’re obviously only telling me now because you can’t hide it any longer, because your girlfriend’s downstairs.”
“She’s not my girlfriend. I love you, Soph, not Charlotte.”
“You brought her home to meet the family.”
“I brought her home to keep an eye on her.”
“Why would you need to do that?”
“There’s a woman…”
“Another one?”
“Yeah. Only this one wants me dead.”
“Why?”
“No idea, but she’s slowly carving a path through everyone I know to get to me, and she’s on her way here.”
“Here?” Her eyes widened. “Are you sure? Does Seb know?”
“He’s already putting the word out.”
She shucked from my hold and took a step towards the do
or. “I’d better go and see if there’s anything I can do to help.”
I snagged her arm. “Wait! I need to tell you everything.”
“There’s more?”
I swallowed the lump in my throat, and my heart clenched with the thought of the extra pain I was about to heap on her, but it had to be said. I had to tell her everything. “Charlotte has a child. I think it’s mine. But she doesn’t know that.”
I caught Sophie in my arms as her knees buckled. Her mouth opened but no words came out. It seemed like forever before she took a breath and pushed me away as she straightened up. She walked wordlessly to the workbench and braced her hands against it.
“You need to tell her the truth,” she said. “Be straight with someone for once in your life, please, Connor. She deserves to know.”
“I agree”—I nodded—“and I will tell her, if the child is found alive when this is all over.” Sophie’s puzzled expression as her head slowly twisted round told me I needed to elaborate. “He’s missing.”
I’d hardly got the words out when the sound of an explosion outside rang through the night air. I ran to the window. An orange glow flickered between the silhouettes of the trees, and when I narrowed my vision at the source, I saw why. At the end of the driveway, flames curled up into the sky.
Chapter Twenty-Five
I ran back to Sophie and scooped her into my arms. Within seconds, I’d bolted down the stairs and burst through the living room door. The sound of it slamming against the wall halted the conversation of a fresh group of men.
Arta’s dark head turned, and he grinned his boyish smile. “And here’s the man of the moment. I hear you’ve got yourself in somewhat of a pickle, cuz.”
“To put it mildly,” I said, lowering Sophie to her feet.
“This is Mac, Will, and T.J.,” Sebastian said. “Colleagues of mine.”
Not wanting to waste time on a meet-and-greet, I nodded my head at them quickly and said a simple “Evening” before facing Seb again. “She’s here.”
His brow creased as his gaze snapped to Sophie, then back to me. “Who?”
“The woman, and whatever army she’s brought with her.”
“Already?” he said. “How do you know?”
“Did you not hear the explosion?”
“Sounded like a storm coming.”
“You got that right. The kind of storm that starts with a taxi being blown up.”
Seb lowered his head, jaw clenched, and I could tell he was thinking about the demise of our recent guests. His body stiffened as he sucked a breath through his nose, then looked back up. “Where?”
“Looks like it was just turning onto the road.”
He took a calming breath. “Well, that’s one consolation, I suppose. Hopefully, it means the protection is holding out.” Then, like a pro, he sprang into action. “Arta, find Marissa. She’s probably in her room. Get her to safety.” He addressed his colleagues next. “Men, scout the perimeter. See what you can find. Sophie, where did you say your brother was tonight?”
“Todd? He went to the arcade with Paul,” she said. “Should I call him and tell him to come home?”
“No. No, he’ll be safer there.” Seeing the panic fill her eyes, Sebastian grasped her shoulders and fixed her with a concerned stare. “Supes are much less likely to attack in a human public place.”
She nodded in agreement, but I wasn’t convinced she believed him. Given the tally of bodies so far, I wasn’t sure I believed him, either. But if I was right about being last on the list, and the fight had come to our doorstep, the likelihood was that it was already too late to worry—not that I’d be telling Sophie that.
“I’d ask you to hide if I thought for one second you’d listen,” Seb said to her, “but can I at least suggest a disguise?”
“Don’t worry about me,” she said. “I’ll be fine.”
I lowered my gaze at the sight of their lips meeting. I might be second in line when it came to Sophie’s affections, but that didn’t mean I had to like it. Dousing my green-eyed monster, I went to rouse Charlotte.
“Saddle up, sweetheart. It’s show time.”
She blinked at me twice before recognition dawned and she shot to her feet. “Sorry, did I nod off?”
“Little bit. You good?” I asked as she swayed and I caught her.
“I’d be better in bed.”
Choosing to presume that I’d imagined the glimmer in her eye, I steadied her and noticed Sophie watching us intently. I dropped Charlotte like a hot coal and cleared my throat. “It’s time to fight, not sleep. Let’s roll.”
I’d barely taken a step before the floorboards above our heads shook. Dust dropped from the ceiling, and I wafted it away from my face. “Shit. So much for the protection, bro. I guess they got through.”
“It would appear so,” Seb said. “Wait here. I’ll check it out.”
And before I could stop him, he tripped from the room.
The very second he left, an ear-splitting crash resonated behind me as the living room window exploded. Charlotte threw her arm up to cover her face and drew her weapon as she ran towards the sound, while I grabbed Sophie to shield her from the shower of glass flying through the air and pulled her behind the sofa.
“Stay down,” I ordered.
I bobbed my head up to see over the upholstery, immediately before a demon slammed into the cushion on the other side. It was a mystery to me what kind of demon he was, but Charlotte appeared to be on top of things and was already racing towards him. He rolled to the floor with split-second timing to avoid the stab of her knife, which buried into the seating instead of his chest. She tugged it back out as he ran from the room, and when she chased after him, I turned back to Sophie.
I cocked a brow with mild surprise that she’d taken Seb’s suggestion as she raised her snout at me. But, as I was trying to decide whether the look in her vulpine eyes was one of concern or anger that I’d brought trouble to our doorstep, our ears simultaneously caught the crunch of footsteps over broken glass.
I pressed a finger to my lips.
“I smell a little foxy!” a voice said. “Come out, come out, wherever you are.”
Sniffing the air, I smelled something too: something old and rotten and seeking a meal of fresh blood to pump some colour back into its cheeks.
Not if I had anything to do with it.
The voice grew louder as it continued to goad us. Then a foot appeared from around the sofa, followed by another, and I looked up to the bared fangs of a vamp smirking down at us.
I jumped to my feet, but Sophie was quicker. She darted past his legs and narrowly missed the hand that swooped down to catch her. The vamp twisted and hissed his annoyance at the sight of her brush vanishing through the doorway.
Idiot. Was he really stupid enough to turn his back on the real enemy?
It took less than a second for my arms to wrap around his neck and rip his head off.
I waited around long enough to ensure he turned to dust before following Sophie, but when I entered the hallway, there was no sign of her—or anyone else alive, for that matter. Dead? Sure. A demon lay sprawled across the bottom of the stairs with his chest full of holes from Charlotte’s handiwork, but where was she? And where were Sophie and Seb? I kicked the body to confirm its demise as I stopped to listen for clues, but the only sound I heard was the wind whistling through the open front door.
In the space of a couple of minutes, the Towers had turned into the fucking Mary Celeste. No way was it over so soon. A couple of half-wits and a bump on the ceiling did not equal an invasion. There had to be more of the enemy… out there… somewhere, and I was late to the party.
I left the light of the house behind and paused at the top of the entrance steps to search the grounds, then tensed as I spotted two figures approaching from the left. I pulled in my vision to seek their identity, and immediately relaxed at the sight of Mac and Will jogging up to me.
“Find anything?” I asked.
“Nada,” Will said.
“Where’s T.J?”
“Went to check the south side. Haven’t seen him since,” Mac answered. “Seb?”
I shrugged. “No idea. Might still be investigating the first floor. Couldn’t hear him, though. Weird. Stay here. Watch the house. I’m going to take a look around.”
Leaving the two men guarding the front door, I broke into a run and took off down the driveway with my senses on high alert for any sort of clue. The fact that my nearest and dearest had all gone AWOL bristled my fur, and I would have felt far happier if I’d seen pockets of fighting taking place around me, but my luck was out. I made it all the way to the end without a single sign of anyone: good or bad.
When I reached the taxi, I almost wished it had stayed that way.
In the distance, sirens wailed and grew louder with each passing second. A passer-by must have alerted the authorities to the explosion, and the last thing we needed was a bunch of humans sniffing around, when beneath the smell of burning fuel was the unmistakable aroma of vampire. They’d be lucky to survive past sunrise. But I couldn’t worry about that now. I had a family to protect.
My nose crinkled as I examined the blackened wreckage. Though flames still licked at the interior, it was already completely destroyed. I stepped over a twisted door lying on the ground and saw a charred corpse hanging from the opening it had left. Burned beyond recognition, the position of the body bore witness to it being that of the driver.
Another innocent victim dead because of me.
As I rounded the vehicle, the lack of passengers slowly registered and my brows drew together. Impossible. Surely, the others couldn’t have escaped the explosion, could they?
A nervous churning welled in the pit of my stomach as I turned from the scene with visions of a flesh-eating demon devouring the rest of the bodily evidence as a possible explanation for their absence. It eased slightly when I spotted a more welcome sight.
