Soulmates

by Nadine Nightingale

  “For a guy who fought evil all his life, you sound pretty okay with the prospect of being some demon’s new boy toy.”

  He shrugs. “Who wouldn’t want to be the boy toy of Helen of Troy or Cleopatra?”

  Cleopatra and Helen of Troy? He clearly takes Dante’s Inferno too literally. I ball my hands into fists. If I have to listen to this crap for another minute, I’ll end up killing Alex myself.

  I stalk to the door, but he stops me. “Hey,” he croaks. “Where are you going?”

  I’d love to say to hell, but then I’d have to spend an eternity listening to his so not funny jokes. “Kitchen,” I mumble. “Fixing you some soup.”

  ****

  I found four boneless chicken breasts, onions, carrots, celery, and zucchinis in the fridge and decided to make chicken vegetable soup. I’m considerate like that. Not that he deserves my kindness after he kept the crucial fact that he’s going to burn in hell from me, but whatever.

  The meat is boiling, and I’m almost done chopping the vegetables, when my gaze drifts to Chelsea’s room. I really hope she stays gone, because she’d either call an exorcist if she saw Alex, or worse, alert campus security.

  Throwing the carrots into boiling water, I glare at my watch. Bonnie and Jesse should have been back by now. I’d texted them after leaving my room, and they assured me they were on their way. Isn’t it funny how when I start telling the truth, everyone else around me becomes a fucking liar?

  “Manda?” Alex’s voice echoes through the kitchen. I peek over my shoulder and almost chop off my index finger. Hand pressed against his ribcage, Alex leans against the door frame of my room. How he’s standing on two feet beats me.

  “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” I drop the knife and run toward him. “Are you insane?”

  A cocky grin on his lips, he shrugs. “I dated you,” he says, adding fuel to the blazing fire in the pit of my stomach.

  I put his arm around my shoulders and lead him to the couch. “What is it with you?” I ask as I help him sit. “Are you that eager to die?”

  He puts his feet on the coffee table and frowns. “Can’t blame me for not wanting to spend the last days of my life in bed, can you?”

  Low blow. Very. Low. Blow. Ignoring the pain his comment caused, I head back to the kitchen to throw the remaining vegetables into the boiling soup.

  He scans the apartment. “So, you really did it?”

  “Did what?” I ask, adding plenty of chicken stock to the water.

  “You know…going to university, becoming a boring student.” If I didn’t know better, I’d say he was disappointed in me. That would be stupid. He hated my old lifestyle.

  “Even have a normal job,” I announce proudly. Had, Amanda. You had a normal job.

  He throws his head back and laughs. “Are you fucking with me?”

  I stir the soup and give him a look. “Shut up and lie down, will ya?” I sound like a general. I guess I can always enlist in the army if they throw me out of NYU because I can’t pay tuition.

  “Whatcha cooking?” he asks as I put the lid on the saucepan. “Smells delicious.”

  I pour a cup of cold coffee and pull myself onto the kitchen counter. “Chicken vegetable soup.”

  Alex beams at me. “You remembered my favorite soup?”

  How could I ever forget? After I’d accepted a ride from the boys, and before Alex and I started screwing, he caught a bad cold—fever, dry cough, headache. He hadn’t been whiny about it like most guys, but his throat had become so sore, he started sounding like Mickey Mouse on crack. I’d taken pity on him and offered to prepare his favorite soup, which turned out to be chicken vegetable.

  “Sue me,” I snarl through gritted teeth.

  He rests his head against Chelsea’s pope pillow and sighs. “Why do you always have to be such a bitch, Manda?”

  I sip cold coffee and look over the edge of the cup. “Same reason you always have to be such a jerk. It’s in my nature.”

  A moment of silence passes, then he pushes his hands into the couch and straightens. “Can I ask you a favor?”

  I jump off the counter and walk toward him. “You can try.”

  Alex turns his head to look at me. “I know you don’t allow yourself to care about people, but when I’m gone, I need you to look after Jesse. Can you do that for me?” The sadness in his eyes is too much to handle.

  I avert my gaze, choking back the lump of emotion crawling up my throat. “What were you thinking, striking a deal with hell, Alex?” Seriously, what the fuck had he been thinking? Leaving Jesse to deal with the aftermath of his choice, forgetting there are people who care about him—that’s so not the Alex I know.

  He reaches for my hand and threads his fingers through mine. “Please, Manda, I can’t leave this world not knowing Jesse will be taken care of.”

  In this instant, the levee holding back all the anger and wrath inside of me breaks. “You have to know he’ll be taken care of? Why didn’t you think about your brother before you bargained with your fuckin’ soul, Alex?” He opens his mouth, but I’m not done yet. “You know what’s funny? All this time I thought I was the most selfish person to ever walk this earth. I’ve been wrong. ’Cause nothing I’ve done beats what you did to the people who love you.”

  His malachite eyes are darker than ever. “Are you done?” I could yell all day at him and never be done, but before I get a chance to keep going he says, “You think this was easy for me? I’m a goddamn hunter, Amanda. Selling your soul to the other side is about the worst thing my kind can do. Make no mistake.” He meets my eyes. “I hate myself for what I did, but I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

  Alex might be the only person on this planet who can detonate a bomb inside my soul with a single sentence. I’m ready to hit him in the face, but the door swings open, and Bonnie and Jesse walk in just in time to save Alex from getting another shiner on his right eye.

  “What the hell?” Jesse barks, glaring at his brother. “Why aren’t you in bed, man?”

  Alex rolls his eyes. “Would you relax, li’l bro? I’m not dead yet.”

  Keep up the attitude, and I’ll change that.

  Bonnie pushes past Jesse and puts the grocery bag on the coffee table. “So,” she says, giving jerk-face the once-over. “You’re the infamous Alexander Remington, huh?” She extends a hand. “Well, it’s not a pleasure to meet you, but I’m glad you aren’t bleeding all over our apartment anymore.”

  Alex’s expression says I-can-see-why-the-two-of-you-are-friends and smirks. “And you,” he says, shaking her hand. “Must be the best friend.”

  She throws her curls over one shoulder. “In the flesh.”

  Jesse walks over to me. “Seriously, what the hell is he doing up when he should be in your bed?” He sounds so not amused.

  I cross my arms. “I don’t know. But you better take him back before I do the demon a favor and send his sorry ass to hell before his time is up.”

  “You fought?” Jesse’s gaze drifts from me to Alex. “Again?”

  “She started it,” Alex mutters.

  Something inside me cracks, and I lunge forward, ready to beat the fucking crap out of Alex. Too bad Bonnie wraps her arms around my hips and holds me back. “Whoa. What the hell, Amanda?”

  I glare at Alex, who grins like the Cheshire Cat, and struggle to free myself. “Let the fuck go, B.”

  “See,” he says to his brother. “That’s exactly what I’m talking about. Zero self-control.”

  I narrow my eyes at him. “Oh, that’s rich, coming from a hunter who’d rather go to Disney World than find a way to save his goddamn soul.”

  Alex’s face turns to marble. “Why the fuck does everyone think I need saving?” He sounds really pissed. “I made my choice. Now I’m gonna live with the fucking consequences. Do I make myself clear?”

  There it is again, the tedious urge to rip his head off.

  “Why don’t we all calm down?” Bonnie suggests, her arms still wrappe
d around me.

  Jesse rolls his eyes. “Trust me, B, you’re preaching to the choir.”

  If I wasn’t so fucking mad, I’d ask my best friend since when she became okay with Jesse, a hunter, calling her by her nickname, but I got more important things on my mind. I shoot daggers at Alex. “Know what? I don’t give a shit about your choice. I’m a witch. I don’t do free will.”

  “What are you saying?” Alex asks, jaw clenched.

  “Yeah,” Bonnie whispers. “What are you saying, Amanda?”

  I blow out some anger and step back. “I’m saying I don’t care what he wants. I’ll get his sorry ass out of this deal if it’s the last thing I do.”

  Jesse straightens and beams at me. “Does that mean—”

  “Your brother won’t go to hell, even if I have to fight Lucifer himself.” That said, I stomp to the bathroom and slam the door.

  Chapter 12

  Tang kuei, rehmannia, and peony—Bonnie and Jesse got me everything I need. Emptying the Chinese herbs into the mixer, I stare at the pig liver on the counter. Bonnie bought the disgusting thing. Said her coven has used it since the dawn of time to increase red blood cells. I don’t know about the blood cells, but I can testify to the increasing urge to puke caused by looking at it. I pinch my nostrils together, grab the liver, and throw it on top of the herbs.

  They say good medicine tastes bitter, but when I push the On button, and the stuff merges into a thick merlot liquid, my stomach threatens to erupt. I’d feel sorry for Alex—who actually has to drink the stuff—if he hadn’t acted like a jerk a few minutes ago. It’s a good thing Jesse hauled his butt to my room before I came out of the bathroom. Only God knows what I’d have done had he provoked me some more.

  “Can I talk to you?” Bonnie says, testing the waters. She has firsthand experience when it comes to my short temper, and after the performance I gave—almost jumping down Alex’s throat—she probably lives by the “better safe than sorry” motto.

  I keep my eyes on the mixer. “Sure. Shoot.”

  She leans against the counter, crosses arms and legs, and gives me a dubious look. “You promise not to kill me?”

  “I’ll try my best.”

  She doesn’t really buy it. I can tell by the way one foot rocks back and forth. “I know you were pissed at Alex, but”—she draws a deep breath—“are you aware of what you did back there?” She points her head at the living room as if the play is still being performed.

  I cock a brow and sigh. “Yeah, B. I’m aware of what I did.”

  She leans closer. “Really? ’Cause you didn’t just swear to Alex you’d get him out of an unbreakable deal, you also planted a whole lot of hope in his brother’s heart.”

  What’s wrong with her? Wasn’t she the one who gave me a pep talk yesterday? “What happened to ‘the Amanda Bishop I know would move heaven and hell?’”

  Bonnie massages her forehead. “I meant every word. But two things.” She holds her index finger up. “One, you can’t save someone who doesn’t want saving.” Her middle finger flies up. “Two, what happens to Jesse if you can’t keep your promise? Did you consider that when you announced you’d fight Lucifer himself for Alex’s soul?”

  A sharp pain jolts through my ankh tattoo. I never saw it like that. Never considered what my promise would do to Jesse. Fuck, what is it about Alex that turns off every rational thought? It’s as if every time he opens his mouth, I’m blinded by the overwhelming need to prove him wrong. Been like this since Jesse asked me to join them for a drink and Alex said I probably had somewhere else to be. Of course, I’d sided with Jesse, and we all know how well that turned out.

  “At least tell me you’ve got a plan,” Bonnie murmurs.

  I switch the mixer off and frown. “It’s not exactly a plan.”

  She raises her brows. “Then what is it?”

  “A place to start,” I say, pouring the stinky liquid into a glass. Gram’s grimoire is our best shot. If there’s a way to fix Alex, it will be in the book.

  “You really wanna do that?”

  Do I want to go to Salem and face my annoying-as-hell sister? Hell, no. But I can’t just let Alex be hauled to hell, can I? “We’ll hit the road as soon as Alex feels a bit better.”

  “God,” she moans. “You really must lo—”

  I silence her with a look. “Don’t even think about saying that out loud.”

  She holds her hands up. “Whatever. I just hope you know what you’re doing.”

  Me too, B.

  ****

  Loaded with soup and the stuff from the blender, I kick my door open and move toward Alex. He’s not happy to see me. I’m not happy to be here either.

  Jesse sits next to him, but the second he lays eyes on me, he gets on his feet and retreats to the door. “Try not to kill each other.” His gaze drifts from me to his brother. “Okay?”

  I put the bowl of soup and the glass on the nightstand and fake a smile. “I’ll be on my best behavior.”

  “Alex?” Jesse grumbles, giving his brother a look.

  He rolls his eyes. “Just get outta here, man.”

  That’s what Jesse does, but not without shooting Alex one last warning glance.

  Wordless, I adjust the pillows and help Alex sit up. “Hey.” Jerk-face flinches as I let him down. “How about being a bit nicer? I am a dying man, remember?”

  I could smother him with one of the pillows and no one would ever know. The thought conjures up a smile, but I push it away. “Drink,” I order, handing him the glass.

  He ogles the red liquid suspiciously. “What is it?”

  I shrug. “Herbs.”

  He takes a sniff and makes a face. “Herbs, huh?”

  Totally running out of patience, I cock a brow. “Stop acting like a wimp and drink up, Alex.”

  Unwillingly, he tastes it. “That’s”—he wipes his mouth—“nasty.”

  “Finish it. It’ll help.”

  Once he gulps down most of it without vomiting in my face, I lift his blanket. “Like what you see?” he asks as I pull up the bandages to check on the wounds.

  I hate the cocky grin on his face, but when I realize there’s no fresh blood or purulence, I smile. “Looks good.” With the exception of the blackish veins. It appears they have spread farther up toward Alex’s heart. I have a bad feeling about this, but I try to keep a lid on my emotions. No need to scare Alex, or anyone else.

  His eyes find mine. “Had a good nurse.”

  “Stop sweet talking me.”

  “Just trying to be nice,” he says. What he means is: just trying to piss you off some more, Manda.

  “Don’t.” I rub St. John’s wort onto his chest, apply new bandages, and hand him a bowl of steaming soup. “Eat.”

  He sighs. “What are you, my mother?”

  If I was his mother, I would have drowned him in the tub when he was a baby.

  He spoons his chicken vegetable soup and watches me with hooded eyes. “Still mad?”

  Mad? Me? That’s just ridiculous.

  He blows on his spoon and looks up. “C’mon, Manda, how long can you keep that silent avenger thing going?”

  We’ll see.

  He puts the bowl down next to him and cups my cheeks. “Manda.” I want to yank back, but for a half-dead dude, he has a pretty tight grip. “You really want us to part on bad terms?”

  I swallow the fire climbing up my throat and keep quiet.

  Hamstringed, he lets go of me, seizes hold of my shirt, and pulls me onto the bed. It happens in the blink of an eye, and I’m too startled to put up much of a fight. “What the hell?” I bark as a bit of soup lands on my bed. “You crazy or something?”

  “More like something,” he says, pressing me against his warm body.

  “Let go of me,” I order, struggling to break free from his death grip. Not a chance. He’s determined to keep me next to his heart.

  “I know you hate me right now,” he whispers, running his fingers through my hair. “But deep down, yo
u gotta know what I said out there was the truth. Even you”—he puts a finger under my chin and lifts it up—“the great Amanda Bishop, can’t get me out of this deal.” There’s so much pain in his eyes, I want to break down and cry.

  I shift closer. “How do you know?” My voice is ruptured. “You won’t even let me try, Alex.”

  He traces my spine. I shiver from his touch. “Why do you care so much?” he asks, sounding surprised. “I almost killed you three times.”

  I bury my head in his neck and breathe him in. “Remember what I said in the car before we walked into pedophile Walter’s lake house?” Just thinking of the hell-hole where the asshole raped those poor girls makes me shudder. I feel him nod. “I didn’t lie, Alex. I do care about you. I know I shouldn’t, because of the whole Natural Born Enemy thing, but we were once friends.”

  He chuckles. “You call all that bitching and fighting friendship?”

  I look up and bat my lashes at him. “It’s how I show my undying love. Ask Bonnie. She can literally sing a song about it.” I think of Puddle of Mudd’s “She Hates Me” and smile.

  Alex stares at the ceiling. “I almost got you killed in Bakersfield. No way I’ll put you at risk again.”

  I shove an elbow into the mattress and steady my head on my hand. “Would you drop the Bakersfield thing already? You didn’t pull the trigger, Alex. Walter did. Besides, it’s highly unlikely a look at my gram’s grimoire will kill me.”

  Alex closes his eyes and says nothing. His chest rises and falls peacefully, as if he’s making peace with something. Just when I’m all set to accept the fact he doesn’t want my help, he says, “I’ll make you a deal.”

  I raise my brows. “Haven’t you made enough of those lately?”

  “Maybe, but…” He shifts to his side and looks me in the eye. “I have a feeling you’re going to like this one.” Judging by the smug smile plastered across his face, I’ll hate it. “I’ll let you try to get me out of this deal,” he continues. “But in exchange for my full cooperation, you have to promise you’ll look after Jesse if you fail.”

  “Deal,” I say faster than a bolt of lightning.

  “Seriously?” He glares at me with a lack of certainty in his breathtaking eyes. “You’re ready to take on responsibility for someone other than yourself?”