But damn, did my hormones sit up and my heart flutter each and every time I saw him.
He had to duck slightly to avoid hitting his leather clothed horns on the door frame as well as shift his shoulders to fit his upper chest through.
I can be a shallow witch at times. And at times like this I’m not ashamed of it. That demon’s body is a beautiful sight to behold.
“I wasn’t expecting to see you today.” Usually after one of our fights, either Ash or my witchy self would find an excuse to avoid each other for a day or two. Which is why we were still in the early “getting to know you stage” after a good three weeks of dating.
“I came to take you out to lunch.”
Sunlight played over some of his scars and created shadows along his lower cheek and neck where the ridges were thick and raised.
I crossed my arms. Just under my breasts. Which raised them just a touch. Ash zeroed in.
“I’m surprised you have time. You seem to have so much to do.” And why the hell wasn’t I the most important one?
I took a deep breath. My breasts swelled nicely. Ash’s eyes heated.
“I don’t want to fight.” He didn’t look up as he spoke. “You didn’t get a chance to eat last night. Let me make that up to you.”
I prepared to blast him again. The sunlight shifted. Exposing new scars and hiding others.
Ash never acknowledged them. He didn’t try to hide them and he didn’t talk about them either. He acted as if they didn’t exist. Those painful marks of his past.
Some of us have no choice in how our our vulnerabilities are exposed.
My fingers flexed for my wand.
“I expect to eat my burger and fries this time.” I picked up the Pledge and dust rag and headed over to the closet. When I turned around, Ash raised his gaze from his inspection of my generous backside.
“You’ll get to eat this time.” Amber swirled through his eyes. “I promise.”
Well, I hoped so. A good cosmopolitan side dish would go a long way toward easing the last of my inner turmoil right now.
****
“You never talk about your family.”
My french fry skidded in the ketchup, shoving a sizable plop of the red stuff over the edge of my plate and onto the white formica.
“My family?” My stomach flip-flopped. Hard. Twice.
Ash and I hadn’t gotten around to sharing personal details. He had his secrets and I had mine and if he wasn’t going to share, then why should I? At least that’s what I kept telling myself. It had nothing to do with how he would view me. Absolutely nothing.
I grabbed a napkin and began cleaning up the small mess. “You’ve never mentioned your family either.”
Two could play at this game. He’d dodge the question, then I . . .
“My mother died when I was born. I killed my father. I don’t have any other relatives.”
I blinked several times. Played back his words in my head.
“You killed your father?” Surely I had misunderstood. Demons aren’t the most loving of creatures, but they all came from parents and that meant families, right? What did I truly know about life in the Demon realm? Very, very little.
He’d murdered his own father? Spirits, I couldn’t imagine. It was awful. Worse than that. Traumatic. Horrific. Vile. I didn’t know the details. Wasn’t sure I wanted to. Family was everything to me.
I’d been telling myself I didn’t push Ash or ask questions because I couldn’t quite trust him. I’d lied. I didn’t ask questions, I didn’t test our relationship, such as it was, I didn’t do anything that might actually stray into personal grounds because I was flat out scared. Terrified. Panicked we’d end up right where we were now. And I’d have to tell him the truth. He didn’t know. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t want me when he did know. No one ever did.
I’d never considered Ash would have his own secrets. Ones that I might not be able to handle.
Heat simmered in the air over Ash’s shoulders. Black lines edged through his amber pupils. His left hand lifted as if to touch his face before he aborted the movement and set his fist carefully on the table.
He nodded. “Yes. I killed him.” Ash met my shocked gaze with his blank one.
I fumbled for something to say. I guessed this was the story behind his scars. Something worse than the nightmares I had conjured up. Something truly evil.
“How is everything?”
I kept my gaze locked on Ash. “Everything is great, Candy.”
She chattered on about something menial. The black lines in his eyes grew thicker, overtaking the amber. Ash looked away.
He locked his shoulders, both huge fists clenched in front of him. The knuckles a shocking white against his dark skin.
He looked away.
Sweet Spirits, I knew this pose. I’d lived this a thousand times.
And it damn near broke my heart to see Ash braced for my rejection. How could I possibly turn away from him as so many had turned from me?
He may have had a choice in his fate. I’d never had one. In the HC world it didn’t matter. Strength, power and survival did.
Weakness was an obscenity. And if you weren’t immortal you were weak.
Candy left. I covered the tops of both his fists with my hands. I wanted to feel his skin against mine one last time. “It’s just my aunt and myself. My mother died seven years ago. My father died when I was an infant.” I swallowed. “He was human.”
Leaving me a cursed, very mortal witch. Part of two different communities, never belonging to either.
Ash froze. His fists seemed to grow cold under my touch. He met my gaze. I didn’t look away. I couldn’t. I had to face this one head on. Even as my heart began to crumble.
I wanted to smile, paste on an aloof look, something, anything, to keep him from knowing I was slowly dying inside. I wanted to be strong. I couldn’t. Murder is one thing in the HC community. Even one as disturbing as one’s own parent. Weakness is something entirely different.
An abomination.
And no one wants an abomination.
I began to pull back. Ash twisted his hands and caught mine, gripped them completely. Refusing to let me pull away.
I didn’t know why. Didn’t really care at this precise moment.
A familiar quaking started in my stomach. I had a couple minutes, maybe less, before I came apart. I’d fought this battle so many times before. Too many.
Human trash.
Half breed.
Filth.
Maybe it hadn’t been fair to not tell him the truth. Maybe we should have had this conversation at the beginning. Maybe I deserved his anger. Maybe I was a selfish scaredy-cat.
I could have spared myself this pain right from the start.
And yet I’d chosen to remain silent.
None of that mattered right now. The only thing I had left was my pride. To walk out while I still had something left. Before I shattered.
I jerked against his hold. He pulled on my arms until I was stretched over the formica. Heat and red hot flames sizzled and popped over his shoulders in uncontrolled bursts.
The trembles worked their way out of my stomach and along my arms.
In our quid pro quo game of “my secret is worse than yours” I was about to win. Top honors, grab the trophy and the flowers.
I knew and understood this. I just didn’t have to like it.
In fact, I hated it. With every fiber of my being.
“Did you hear what I said?”
“Yes,” I nodded. He’d killed his father. I’d heard him say it, understood the words, had no idea as to the why or if I could conscientiously condone his actions, but what did any of that matter?
I’d just told him I was mortal.
An abomination.
Ash frowned. His hands clenched over mine. I gasped. Damn, he was strong.
He immediately eased up on his grip. Frowned at me some more.
“Aren’t you disgusted with me?”
Oh
. Ash.
It struck me. Hard and fast and just as powerful. We were both waiting for the other to acknowledge their horror and end the relationship.
In a million years I’d never be able to treat him as others had treated me. This was Ash. The demon of my dreams.
He’d pursued me. He’d come to my rescue. He’d treated me as if I was special to him.
I’d treasure every moment of our time together for the rest of my life.
“No. I’m not disgusted.” I stopped pulling away, let my shoulders go lax, leaned into his grip. “I’m so very sorry you killed your father.” He hadn’t done it as a power play, or to show his dominance. The pain of it was written all over his face. I didn’t know the specifics, but on that account I was confident.
“I’m sorry you suffered because of it.” I tugged one hand free and brushed his scars with my fingertips. “I hate that you suffered because of it.” I pulled back, suddenly able to free myself totally of his hold. I sat down on my side of the booth and waved Candy over for the check.
“I’m not disgusted with you, Ash.” I handed Candy my card. Looked him straight in the eyes. “I could never be disgusted with you.”
I wanted to smile at him. Show him I meant each and every word. As if I wasn’t falling apart, into pieces so small a microscope couldn’t measure them. As if we were the same two beings, in the same crazy relationship, we had been ten minutes before.
I took the folder, my card and the check back from Candy. I stood, tucked the receipt and my credit card into my purse.
“You’re a good demon, Ash.” I wanted to say more, but my throat had closed up. I was done.
Turning on my heel, I moved steadily to the door, opened it and walked out. I didn’t stop. I continued moving, as if my life depended on it, toward the street. Nothing mattered. Walking and moving forward were the only things I could do. If I stopped, I would cease to exist.
I’d played out this scene so many times throughout my life, you’d think I would almost be used to it.
I was in between a row of vehicles in Madge’s parking lot when a steel hand yanked me to a stop, refusing to let me move forward.
“I don’t disgust you?”
Spirits, were we back to this? I’d already given him my answer. Couldn’t he just let me walk away without torturing me?
“No, Ash. You don’t disgust me.”
I didn’t care if I smiled now. I was done. Held up by the most fragile of bones.
“Then why are you walking away from me?”
Son of a . . . he hadn’t heard me in the diner. He’d been so caught up in his own torment, he hadn’t heard what I’d said. It was the only thing that made sense.
And now I had to replay everything. Lay my naked self open for his whip.
“Didn’t you hear what I said?” As if from a distance I heard myself scream the question at him. Flinging each syllable like razor sharp daggers.
Damn him. I’d wanted to walk away composed. Or at the very least, not a sobbing mess.
“You said you were mortal.”
Ash wrapped his huge hands around my upper arms and pulled me upwards. My chest flush with his. My forehead near his lips. My feet a good foot plus off the ground.
“So what?”
So what? What the hell did that mean? So what? I’d just told him that I was mortal. Not of his kind. Not of any kind really. I was something different. Something weak. Something lacking.
So what? So everything.
“I’m mortal,” I shrieked it inches from his face. “Mortal. MOR-TAL.” I sucked in a breath, my chest heaving. “I’m not immortal.” I kicked his shins, smacked his chest with my fists. “I’m not . . .”
Ash shook me hard. “Kate. Stop it.”
I kicked him again as hard as I could. I didn’t want to stop it. I wanted to keep screaming at him, at fate. At everything wrong with my life.
But it didn’t matter. It never did. This wasn’t helping. My little fit wouldn’t do any good. Change anything.
Ash lifted me higher so his next words brushed over my face. “You’re not what?”
I opened my eyes. “I’m just . . . not.” A sob caught in my throat. “Not immortal. Not a full witch. Not fully human. Just plain NOT.”
Fire roared to life over Ash’s shoulders and down his chest. A second later the flames engulfed his neck and face, surrounding him in a cage of deadly hellfire so intense only his eyes were visible. Heated orbs of molten amber.
I’d never seen Ash in his full demon state before. And if I survived his fury, I prayed that I never would again.
I couldn’t look away. He was both horrifying and beautiful. Raw rage and incredible power.
I called on my magic, but it was too late. Nerve endings shrieked as flames burned my skin. I could barely form a clear thought, much less summon the words to a protective spell through the agony.
Heat scorched my lungs and the smell of my own flesh burning filled my nose. Black dots crowded the edges of my eyes. As my vision began to fade, I saw his mouth open.
When he spoke, I didn’t recognize his voice, it was so guttural and demonic. His words passed through me, vibrating my charred flesh and shaking my bones with their force.
“Never say such a thing to me again. NEVER.”
I had a brief moment to wonder at his words and then everything went black.
17. Deliberate or Accidental Attempted Murder?
I woke up.
Funny, I hadn’t been expecting that. I’d sort of thought I’d be dead right now.
But I was alive and - I lifted both arms, examining them closely - whole and healthy. A few freckles might be re-arranged, but I wasn’t in agonizing pain, had no charred skin or even a blister marking me.
I was also in my own bed. With no memory of getting here. My last few thoughts had been totally caught up in the fire consuming my body.
The fire and a horrific amount of pain, I remembered that quite distinctly, thank you very much. I didn’t need those memories, the nightmares were going to be bad enough.
My brain wanted to shy away from the fine points of what had happened. Such as the fact Ash had almost killed me.
The demon love of my life had nearly turned me into a crispy fried husk of myself.
The precise details were a little foggy.
Although I didn’t think he had been trying to kill me. He’d been enraged. The hellfire consuming his body had been a clear signal of his fury, but I didn’t think it had been intentional. More like a by-product.
Then again if I was going to be killed, I’d prefer it to be deliberate rather than by accident.
Wow. Where was my ostrich half when I needed her? My brain was just full of happy thoughts. I’m fairly certain I was simply trying to accept the fact that I was still alive.
It was so much better than dwelling about my boyfriend nearly killing me.
Boyfriend? No. Some of the details were starting to emerge. I drew in a ragged breath. Not my boyfriend anymore. I’d told Ash I was human.
“You awake, Doll?” Al poked his head around the edge of my bedroom door as he whispered his question.
Right. Life carries on. My pity party would have to wait.
I tried to sit up, discovered I could do so easily and without a single twinge, and swung my legs over the side of my mattress. Someone had put me into the long t-shirt I used as a nightgown. “Awake and just fine.” I tried a small shimmy. No pain at all. “Where is Aunt Tabs?”
She was the only possible answer.
“She went home about a half hour ago.” Al jumped onto the bed beside me and began sniffing my arms. “She was exhausted. She had to put Bigfoot under again and you were a mess.” He growled deep and low. “It took a lot of magic to fix ya up.”
I could imagine. On second thought, I didn’t want to imagine it. I’d lived it. That was enough.
“And Ash?” A small dent in my bedroom door became suddenly interesting.
“Ass is on the porch. He kep
t catching things on fire and settin’ off the smoke alarms.” Al crawled onto my lap, stood on his back legs and set his paws on my shoulders. “You sure you’re okay, Doll? I gotta tell ya,” he licked my chin, “I wasn’t sure you were gonna make it.”
I sighed. Kissed his furry little head. “I’m fine, Al. I need to go talk to Ash right now.”
Al stiffened. His ears twitched and his back end trembled. “Whatcha mean talk to him, Doll? That doesn’t sound like you’re gonna turn him into a toad and then put him in a pot of boilin’ water.”
Well, I would never lack for ways to torture and kill someone with Al around.
“No, Al. That is not what I am going to do.” He opened his little jaw. “I’m not going to do anything to hurt him, Al. I just need to talk to him.”
Al raised his lip. “He tried to kill you. You were half burned . . .” His entire body shuddered.
I kept that part of my brain on hold. I was alive. I concentrated on that.
“I know, Al. I don’t think he meant to hurt me.”
Al snapped at my mouth. Shocked me into silence.
“Don’t ya dare make excuses for him, Doll.” He snarled. “Don’t ya dare.”
I buried my face in his little neck. He was right. Maybe. Sort of. I didn’t know. Couldn’t recall much of anything.
I needed to talk with Ash.
“Al, I need to talk to him. Figure out what happened.”
“He tried to kill ya. That’s what happened.”
“Al. Please.”
He growled then jumped down and stalked to the door. “I’m gonna watch ya through the kitchen window. That demon tries anything, Doll, and he’s done.” He walked out of my room and into the hall.
I didn’t think he could truly hurt Ash, but then again, he is a very determined Chihuahua.
And if Ash had tried to kill me, it wouldn’t hurt to have him watching out for me.
I stayed where I was for a minute. Despite all my insistence with Al, I wasn’t entirely certain I was up for a confrontation.
I remembered leaving Madge’s, crossing the parking lot and Ash stopping me. I felt fairly confident he’d been mad I hadn’t confessed my mortal status at the start of our relationship.
Pretty much status quo for me. I’m a damned if I do, damned if I don’t witch.
Bigfoots Don't Do Mini Coopers (Kate Storm Book 1) Page 11
