He stands from his chair so quickly, I hardly see him move. He’s a lot sprier than he lets on. I take an involuntary step back when he approaches. “You are correct. I brought you here to be certain that the battle ends with death.”
“Does it matter to you if it’s mine or his?”
He’s practically in my face now. His breath is so putrid, I can barely breathe. It’s as if he’s spent the last millennia eating rotten tuna fish with spoiled mayonnaise. I try to keep from inhaling. “If it did not matter to me, you would not be here.”
I try to take in just enough air to speak. “Who is this common enemy we supposedly have.” I know I have lots of enemies. I didn’t think he would have any he couldn’t take care of himself.
Beelzebub spins abruptly and walks back to his chair. Without turning back, he says calmly, “It is my son.”
My eyes are blinking so rapidly, it’s as if I’m seeing him through a strobe light; but it’s the only physical reaction I’m allowing myself to have. I must have misheard him. “Did you say, your son?”
“One of them, yes.” He is back to sitting in his recliner.
I’m still blinking. “Why would you want to kill your son?”
He raises a brow. “I do not want to kill my son. I want you to do it.”
I’m being asked by the devil to kill his offspring. This is some kind of trap. “Are you afraid to do it yourself?” I sure as hell don’t want to do it if he’s scared to do it.
Beelzebub laughs. “Fear has nothing to do with. There are simply laws against such things.”
“Whose laws?”
Half of his mouth curls up in something close to a smile. “The universe is a mysterious place. There are some things that one simply does not tamper with.”
“What do I get in return?” I’m assuming I don’t really have a choice in this. He’ll find a way to make me do it, so I might as well be proactive.
“Excuse me?” His face darkens with anger.
I have to hold my ground. “If I asked a favor of you, you would expect something in return.” At least, that’s what all the stories say.
His calculating eyes stare at me for more heartbeats than I care for. Finally, he growls, “What do you want?”
“I want the djinn to stop murdering humans.”
A real belly laugh almost has him doubling over. “You expect me to stop murder? How am I to tame the basic animal instinct that lives in all beings? You ask for too much.”
I’m so angry that I feel blood pooling in my cheeks. I’m sure I popped several blood vessels and may start bleeding from my pores soon. “I meant I want you to stop the djinn who are murdering people because of me. The ones who are carving my name in innocent people.”
He sobers and the calculating look is back. “That is all you request.”
Uh oh. I’m doing something wrong, but I don’t know what. Shit. It’s not like there’s a rule book for bargaining with the devil. With a foreboding sigh, I say, “Yes.”
“Done.” With that one little word, I’ve become the devil’s hired gun.
Beelzebub sits back in his chair. “I am curious. Why did you not ask me to kill the djinn who are perpetrating these horrible crimes against humanity in your name? I would have thought your djinn nature would have required an eye for an eye. You did not ask for murder yet you agreed to perform it.”
It’s kind of convoluted in my head as well, but I attempt to explain it. “If I asked you to murder the ones doing the murdering, or even if I did it myself, others would just step in and take their place. If you stop the ones who are doing it with whatever means you use, I’m assuming you’re not going to just ask them politely to stop, that will discourage anyone else from trying to draw me out that way. I’m not happy with our bargain. It makes me sick to my stomach that I’ve agreed to kill for you, even if it is to save human lives, but if that’s the only way, then I will become a killer.”
Is that respect in his eyes? I don’t think it’s a good thing to have the devil respect you. “You are on the apex of a slippery slope, my dear Skye. I am going to enjoy watching you slide down it.”
I’m going to ignore that. “Who do I have to kill and how do I find him? And how do I kill him?”
Five minutes later, I know who, where and how. This is really going to happen. I’m going to commit murder. So much for being a doctor. Murder pretty much shoots the Hippocratic Oath all to hell.
“Are we done now?” I ask Beelzebub.
With a wicked smile, he says, “Yes.” Then, what I thought was solid ground under my feet opens and I fall.
Chapter 43 – Three Days
I expect to fall a great distance since the devil likes to terrify people, so it’s a huge surprise to have dusty rose carpet below my feet almost immediately. I’m in Mrs. Gregory’s sitting room. I still crumple to the ground on impact, but without any broken bones as I thought I would. I guess he figured I couldn’t complete our bargain if I lost my ability to walk.
Almost immediately, hands are on my arms and I’m being shaken. “Where the hell have you been?” Zane demands. Everyone else has crowded around us; the other faces in the room are just as frustrated, scared, angry and relieved as Zane’s.
Before I can answer, Zane pulls me into his arms. “Thank god you’re back.”
As much as I love his arms around me, I can’t breathe with my face so tight against his chest. I still have several layers of black smoke coating my lungs, so I need all the oxygen I can get. I push against his chest and after a moment, he lets me pull back. I’m so relieved to have gotten through the last fifteen minutes alive and am able to be in his arms again. Pushing my hair back from my face, he kisses me. Long and hard. I kiss him back just as passionately. It becomes difficult to remember there are other people in the room and oxygen is definitely overrated.
“Will you get off her so she can tell us what the hell happened?” Brielle gripes.
Breaking the kiss, Zane leans his forehead against mine and whispers. “All I knew was that you were scared. Wherever you were, whatever you were doing, you were scared. That has been tearing me apart.”
“Skye, are you okay? Do you have any medical needs?” Roman asks over Zane’s shoulder.
I look up at him and I see the worry and concern from Zane’s face mirrored on his. I shake my head. “No, I’m not hurt.”
“Then where the sam hell have you been?” Mrs. Gregori demands. “You’ve had my grandson pulling his hair out for three days. We’ve had to lock him in here. It’s all we could do to keep him from going on a rampage.” By the looks of him and Roman, they either tried to kill each other or they did go on some sort of rampage. I’m not sure if I want to know which.
It takes me a moment to grasp what Mrs. Gregori just said. I turn to her, confused. “Three days? But, I’ve only been gone a few minutes.”
Stunned silence fills the room. Then they start looking at each other as if they’re debating my sanity. Zane is the first to speak. He pulls me up from the floor and leads me to the couch. “Skye, you’ve been gone for three days. You disappeared into the veil and that was the last we saw of you. We thought you decided to stay there; that you stayed with Malik. We haven’t been able to get ahold of him, either.” Accusation and jealousy are ringing clear in his voice. “Or worse, that the djinni you met before got to you. Roman has been trying to access the veil, but hasn’t been able to.” He glowers in Roman’s direction.
My mind is still reeling about fifteen minutes actually being three days, but I have to remedy his jealousy. “If I had decided to stay with Malik it would have been because he’s my brother.”
“What?” Brielle says, sinking into the nearest chair. “You and he aren’t…weren’t…”
Zane wasn’t the only one that was jealous. She thought I ran off with Malik, too. I shake my head and smile even though my mind can’t wrap itself around what I’ve put them all through. “No, he is truly my brother.” I’m glad someone in the room is happy now. Zane se
ems a little relieved, but not satisfied yet.
“Where have you been?” Roman asks. He looks exhausted. I wonder if he’s slept at all in the last few days.
From Zane’s haggard face, I know he hasn’t. “Please tell me you weren’t trying to take on the djinn by yourself.”
I shake my head. I can’t believe I’m about to say these words. “I was making a deal with the devil.” I feel like a bad, made for TV, horror movie.
The room becomes silent and still. If there were crickets around, this would be the perfect time for them to start chirping. Finally, Mrs. Gregori says, “You mind repeatin’ that?”
As the adrenaline from the last few minutes fades, the full weight of what I’ve done hits me. It’s with a much softer and much more scared voice, I say, “I made a deal with the devil. He’s going to stop the djinn from killing in my name.”
“And let me guess, all you have to do is give him your soul,” Brielle says dryly. Obviously, she doesn’t believe me.
“No, I have to kill his son.”
Brielle starts laughing. “You actually expect us to believe that bullshit? Why would the devil need you to kill his son?”
I shrug. “He said there’s some rule of the universe that says he can’t do it himself.”
“So you’re going to track this guy down and kill him. Just like that.”
I sigh. “No, it’s not going to be quite that easy, but I am going to kill him.” At least, I’m going to try. Chances are about fifty-fifty of who’s going to kill whom.
“Does she have a fever?” Mrs. Gregori asks. “Zane, put your hand on her forehead.”
He starts to lift his hand, but I bat it away. “I don’t have a fever.”
“Hank, you ever hear anything as crazy as this?” Mrs. Gregori asks her husband.
Hank, who is seated across from his wife, has been staring at me with hooded eyes since I appeared. Instead of answering his wife, he says, “How does one go about killin’ the son of Beelzebub?”
I’m trying to decide if he’s taking me seriously or not. I think he is. “The first thing I have to do is summon him.”
Brielle snorts. “Are you going to stand naked in a pentagram under the full moon and chant something to lure him to you?”
She’s getting under my skin now. “Actually, I plan to be fully dressed,” I say acerbically. We glare at each other until Hank clears his throat. “Zane, Brielle, take them on out of here. I want to speak to your grandmother.”
Zane and Brielle give each other funny looks, but we all stand and leave the room like children being excused from the dinner table. Zane closes the door after us. It only takes a moment for raised voices to carry out into the hall. Brielle grabs Zane and pulls him to the library and they get into their own little dispute. I don’t want to intrude on either argument, especially if they’re about me, so I walk to the elevator and press the button. I lean against the cage while I wait. I’m too emotionally exhausted to climb the stairs.
Roman follows me. “Are you really okay?” he asks.
I nod. I’m a terrible liar, though. I’m trying to be brave, but I know what’s coming and I’m going to need a lot of luck on top of my bravery. Beelzebub says all I need is my fire, but it can’t be that easy. I still have to get close enough to the guy to use it and I think he can hurt me a lot before that.
Roman reaches up and pushes a loose strand of hair off my cheek that escaped my bun. “You really did make a pact with Beelzebub, didn’t you.” It’s a statement, not a question. I think he believed me the first time I said it. “Whatever you need, I’ll be there. The last three days without you have been unbearable.”
While he speaks, he moves closer to me and is now in my personal space. I can’t seem to push him away, though. The closer he gets, the more I notice his scent; that deep, masculine scent that gets my heart racing. I notice that the t-shirt he’s wearing has to stretch to its fullest to cover his broad chest. I notice how his stubble makes him even sexier and I wonder how it would feel against my skin. Especially the skin between my thighs.
I’m so caught up with how he’s affecting me, I don’t realize he’s going to kiss me until his lips are practically on mine. What the hell am I doing? I put my hands on his chest and I push him. Hard. I will not be ruled by his mark. “No.” I catch him by surprise and Roman stumbles backwards. That’s when I notice Zane standing with his arms tight across his chest, anger radiating from him in waves large enough to drown in.
He felt everything I was just feeling.
Chapter 44 - Rivalry
“Zane…” I begin, but he puts a hand up to keep me from saying more.
“Just give me a minute,” he says between gritted teeth. Turning to Roman, he punches him in the face. “I warned you to stay away from her.”
Roman recovers well. He wipes at his bloody lip and says, “What bothers you more? That I didn’t stay away from her or that she found it so hard to resist me?”
I close my eyes, not wanting to see Zane punch him in the face again. I hear it, though. When the sound repeats over and over, I force my eyes open. How the hell am I going to stop them from killing each other?
“Jesus, Skye, do enjoy watching this?” Brielle asks. Without waiting for a response, she gets in behind Roman and kicks the back of his knee. He goes down immediately. Zane tries to take advantage of the situation, but a well-timed push from Brielle has him sprawled on the floor as well. “What the fuck do you two think you’re doing?” she growls. “You,” she points to Roman, “get over the fact that she’s screwing my brother.” She turns to Zane. “And you need to get over the fact that there are obviously some residual feelings from their past life, not to mention he’s marked her like a dog pissing on a tree.” That’s a lovely visual. “It’s what she wants now that matters.” Now she turns to me. “You. You need to decide who the fuck you want and stick to it. These two idiots are going to kill each other if you don’t, so get your head out of your ass and make up your fucking mind. Or maybe instead of worrying about your sex life, you should figure out how the hell you’re going to get out of this even bigger mess you’ve managed to get yourself into.”
She’s right. I know that. I need to stop letting Roman get close to me. I would be giving him far too much control over me if I simply give in. I need to be stronger. “I did choose,” I say in a voice that’s shakier than I thought it would be. “I chose Zane.”
“Great, then quit mind fucking Roman before you actually fuck him for real,” Brielle snaps. “I don’t know what it is about you, but you have my brother wrapped around your finger and I’m not going to stand around while you crush his heart into tiny pieces.”
“Brielle, back off,” Zane says, as he stands up and wipes his bloody nose with the bottom of his t-shirt.
“No,” I say quietly as I walk to where Zane is standing. “You’re her brother; she should be looking out for you.” I grasp his t-shirt and pull it over his head. He only hisses once as the neck rubs against his face. When it’s off, I ball it up and use it to wipe the blood away. His cheek is a nasty purple color and his nose is bruised as well. “Is it broken?” I ask Roman.
He looks hopeful. “Let me take a look.”
Zane’s eyes narrow. “It’s not broken, so get the hell away from me.”
Brielle rolls her eyes. “Grow up, Zane. Roman, see if his nose is broken. If it is, set it or I’ll break your nose.” That should have sounded childish, but the fact that she’s dead serious helped carry it off.
I step back and let Roman in front of Zane. He presses on his nose in a few spots before dropping his hands back to his sides and stepping away from him. “I don’t think it’s broken. If it is, it’s a hairline fracture and will heal without permanent disfiguration.”
He didn’t need to sound so disappointed. “Thank you for checking.” I grasp Zane’s hand and tug him towards the elevator. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
I don’t miss his smug grin at Roman as the elevator doors close.
“Was that really necessary?” I ask.
He chuckles. “Probably not.” Leaning towards me, he puts his hands against the elevator wall on either side of my head as we start to ascend. His face sobers. “Jesus Skye, you put me through hell these last few days.” If his lips weren’t bloody, he would be kissing me.
I put my hand on his cheek. He has his own three days’ worth of stubble on his face. “I’m sorry. Honestly, to me it only felt like fifteen or twenty minutes. Beelzebub must be able to manipulate time somehow.”
He sighs and looks down at the elevator floor. “Three days. For three days I felt everything you were feeling. Anger, fear, determination. Everything.” He looks back up at me. “But what tore me up the most is getting you back and feeling what I felt downstairs.”
Marked (The Secrets of the Djinn #1) Page 21
