She remembered the tiny nick on his neck, the bit of tissue paper stuck to it as he stood there in jeans and an old button-down, admitting with a boyish blush that he hadn’t shaved for female company in years.
Shaking like a leaf, the tears came unhindered, the sobs shaking her body.
That was how Stone found her.
“Becca?” His voice was but a whisper in her head.
Alarm crept into his voice, “Becca! What happened? Are you hurt?”
The next instant he was right there at her side, picking her up and into his arms. She could only stare at his worried face. Was she imagining it, or was he real? Her hand reached out to touch him and felt the rough stubble on his cheek.
Real.
No words came, except one, “Arthur.”
“What? What are you talking about? What’s wrong with Arthur?”
It brought her back to the place she never wanted to visit again, but she knew she had to tell him. He was her rock after all. Maybe he could find out who had done this. He was her only hope.
“Arthur…” her voice broke. “I wanted to visit him and…” She swallowed, fought passed the tears in her throat. “He’s dead.” Now that the gate had been opened, the words came in a rush. “It looked like he was sleeping, in his chair. The fireplace was still warm. He looked so peaceful…but then I saw the bruising.” Her own hand went to her neck. Stone’s gaze followed the movement before his face fell with understanding. “Just a thin, dark line. Amazing that that could mark the end. So thin…so…” Shock swamped her in an ice-cold wave. “…so professional.”
Her eyes found his and she dove into a spiral of confusion.
No, it couldn’t be, her heart cried out. She knew the man in front of her. But her mind insisted on the facts. The fact that he was the only one who knew where Arthur lived.
Every Ebony was trained to be a killer, and she knew that some of them became hired assassins.
VI
WHAT THE HELL?
“For it was not into my ear you whispered, but into my heart.
It was not my lips you kissed, but my soul.”
- Judy Garland
TWENTY-THREE
Her face was an open book. Stone could see her inner turmoil as clear as day. Darkness and light fought within her, doubt and trust.
“You knew where he lived!” Before he even had a chance to answer, his head snapped to the side. His cheek stung from her slap.
“How could you?” she shouted. “He liked you.”
Desperate panic and grief fueling her, she pushed him away with all her might. Stone landed on his ass. Although the suspicion in her eyes hurt, he could understand it. She had no reason to believe in him - until he gave her one.
When she scrambled to get away from him, he grabbed for her arms. Stone didn’t know how she could make her face so expressive and could only hope she would see the truth in his eyes. “I didn’t do it.” His gaze boring into hers, he swore, “Please believe me, Becca. I didn’t do it.”
Silence stretched as their stares locked and hearts fought.
It felt like an eternity, and for once in his life Stone didn’t know what to do. There was a plan for every situation, a way out, a sequence of actions - but not this time. It left him stranded and feeling utterly helpless. He could feel her pulse hammering under her skin where he held her wrists. “I didn’t do it. I didn’t do it. I…”
“You didn’t do it.”
It wasn’t a question, nor a plea.
Stunned that she actually believed him, he wondered whether grief was clouding her senses. Surely she must have…however, her eyes, even if brimmed with tears, were clear. There was love and hope in their depth, not the slightest trace of damnation.
“I believe you.” Her voice was hoarse with emotion. It was raw faith. In him.
Amazed at this unexpected gift, Stone tucked it away in his heart. It was her place anyway. “You do?”
“But who did? No one knew where he lived.”
“He was out of the bayou. Someone could have followed him back in.”
Her face fell, realizing the probability of his words. Guilt shadowed her eyes and filled her tears.
Stone shook her. “No, you will not blame yourself. Arthur knew what he was doing. He chose to come here. Maybe he knew what it would entail, maybe not. But you definitely had nothing to do with it. So stop it!”
She nodded.
Stone sighed, drawing her attention. “There’s something I need to tell you, too.”
“I’m not sure I can handle anymore.”
He hadn’t imagined having to tell her under these circumstances, but knew they didn’t have any time to lose. Still, he looked at the trail of dried tears on her cheeks, only small signs of her deep grief. His voice was gentle when he asked, “Actually, we don’t have to do this now.”
“Time won’t change anything. Arthur won’t come back. But honesty might just make it easier to bear.” She snorted without any humor, “Or at least I hope so.”
Stone nodded, wishing he could relieve her pain somehow. He couldn’t believe that Arthur was dead. He’d come to like the old man, had known that Becca would be safe with him around, that Hell had not lost an oracle but a guardian angel.
Shouldn’t the man have known? Unexpected anger at the oracle surfaced, but he decided it was better to keep his question for later.
Moving to sit closer next to her on the jetty, Stone looked out at the calm bayou, rays of light dancing on the water like fairies. A stark contrast to the dark sorrow both of them felt inside. Stone wondered where to begin his story, and admitted that he was afraid she would change her mind about him. After clearing his throat, he decided to simply trust in her as she had trusted him.
“I’d just come back from a bad fight at one of the holes when Andras, one of the marquis, summoned me. It turned out that my demon lord had recommended me to him. I still think it was a kind of punishment from her. She would be the kind to delight in the fact that I wouldn’t be able to say no to whatever it was the guy wanted.”
Becca inclined her head, a knowing look in her eyes. Yes, she knew how Hell worked.
“He told me about a witch who seemed to be quite busy spreading rumors, and he wanted me to keep an eye on her. Assess what kind of damage she could cause.”
“Seriously? Heh. Nice.”
Stone chuckled. “To be honest, when he told me the little they knew about you, I thought you were pretty stupid.”
Her jaw dropped with indignation. “What? Why?”
“You’d managed to get away, so why make waves instead of enjoying it? It didn’t make any sense to me.” He shrugged, an odd feeling creeping up on him. He felt…vulnerable. “After seeing you at the club, ballsy and so…full of life, my opinion changed pretty quickly. You were still a puzzle to me, but an interesting one. I told myself that I was just doing my job, watching you, learning…but that wasn’t true. I started to question myself. Right from the start. Did I jump into the fray at the strip club just because of my mission, or because I wanted to save a boy? Why did I decide to go and train him? To earn your trust, or simply because I wanted to spend more time with him? A boy that was treated like rubbish in Hell, but has so much potential.”
Becca looked at him as if he’d fallen on his head. “Of course, your mission wasn’t the only motivation. How could you have known that Quinn meant anything to me? You saved him because you wanted to. Because you care more about people than you want to admit.”
That was true. Stone was surprised at the relief he felt, being understood was a freedom that felt foreign to him. “I told myself lots of things to ignore the truth.”
Her voice was a whisper, “And what is the truth?”
He sighed, searching for words - and for the first time in his life even for courage - before he looked straight at her. “You blow me away. You’re a polka-dotted breath of fresh air. Nothing scares you, nothing ever really bothers you. You take on life the way it is and still t
ry to make it better.”
That wide smile of hers rivaled a bloom in winter. “You love me.”
That stopped him short.
Two realizations hit him at once. First, he’d been babbling. Babbling! Second, she was right. “I do.”
It was her turn to look away, but not before he saw the same kind of vulnerability he’d felt just a moment ago creep into her eyes. Biting her lip, she gazed out over the water, and then he felt her warm hand curl around his. The feel of her touch made him smile like a fool. She laughed when she finally had the guts to face him again.
Shaking her head, her laughter died abruptly and her voice was soft when she asked, “Is it bad to feel this happy after what happened to Arthur?”
Stone shook his head, solemnly. “I don’t think so. He’d want you to be happy.”
“He’d also want me to find his killer.”
“And we’ll do exactly that. But there’s more to tell you.”
She turned her body and sat cross-legged facing him, their joined hands in her lap. “I’m glad you’re telling me all of this, but your past won’t change how I feel about you now. It shaped you to become the man you are, the one I love. That’s all I need to know.”
He touched her cheek. “Thank you. I don’t know what I did to deserve you. But…there’s seriously more you need to hear. There’s a reason why I left. Andras summoned me the night when Abby and the others showed up.”
“When you went to meet with a friend?” Her face fell, worry taking away the bit of pink that had come back into her cheeks. “You went back to Hell that night?”
“I couldn’t risk him coming here,” he explained, hoping she would understand.
“What did he want?”
“He wants me to kill you. Which I won’t.”
“Thanks. How kind of you.”
Stone rolled his eyes at her, but knew it was her way of coping, of gathering her strength. “Luckily, he wants me to make it look like the other side did it, which gives us time. Not a lot, but hopefully enough.”
“To do what?”
“To come up with a plan.”
Taking a deep breath, she nodded sharply before wiping her cheeks with the back of her hands. He could see her tug away the grief, not ignoring it but using it as her mind raced. This strength, he thought, with which she took on everything that was thrown her way…it floored him.
“Well then, let’s round up the troops.”
TWENTY-FOUR
“Thanks, Lillian. Appreciate it.”
“No problem. See you in about thirty.”
Becca hung up the phone and looked at Stone.
“What now?” he asked, following her lead.
“Could you tell the others to meet us here in the kitchen in about half an hour?”
“Sure.”
There was an unvoiced question in his eyes and she explained, “I need to talk with Quinn.”
She saw the comprehension, the way his shoulders relaxed. He nodded, and then moved closer to kiss her forehead. For a moment she leaned into him, allowing herself a moment to breath in his scent and wished she didn’t have to leave to do what needed to be done. Wished they had more time.
Too soon they had to break their sweet embrace. While he headed into the lounge sending one last worried glance in her direction, she climbed the stairs trying to tell him with her eyes that she would be fine.
The door to Quinn’s room was slightly open, yet Becca knocked even though she knew it was useless before she carefully stuck her head through the small gap. Both kids turned their heads, noticing her immediately.
“May I come in?”
Quinn nodded and Becca stepped inside his room.
Sitting cross-legged on his bed, the two of them were engrossed in yet another game. They had started to separate themselves from the adults now that the drama in the house had calmed down.
“Would you mind giving us some time alone?” Becca asked Sli, with an apology in her eyes and voice.
“No.” The girl got off the bed and left the room.
Becca sighed, not sure how to approach a frowning Quinn.
What’s wrong?
How could she answer that one? Before she had to come up with a reply, his hands swiftly added, You’ve been crying.
Sitting down on the edge of the bed, Becca nodded. It would have been easier to sign the words than to say them out loud, but she knew she had to vocalize the truth. She had no time for denial. “I went to visit Arthur this morning. But…” Becca swallowed as tears carried a lump to her throat. “Quinn…he died. He’s dead.”
Quinn’s frown deepened until it was replaced by shock.
They hadn’t known Arthur for that long actually, but from that first day they’d met he’d been a constant figure in their new lives here in the human realm. He showed them the ropes, was a safe harbor and a mentor. Now, he was gone.
But…? How?
What could she say? The truth was painful, but Becca still believed it to be the better option. “He was killed.” Reading his face, she promised, “Stone and I…we’ll find out who did it, I promise.”
Her brother couldn’t do more than nod before the tears in his eyes ran free and she pulled him into a tight hug.
They sat like that for a long time. Holding and bracing each other.
After some time, Quinn pulled away. Get the bastard who did it. Somehow they must have found him after all this time.
“Yes.”
She bit her lip. Stalling, she looked around her brother’s room. It looked rather tidy but carried enough traces to show that it was used. That life existed within. The walls were a lovely shade with a hint of blue, his desk was hidden under books and clutter, and a baseball bat stood in its rack behind the door. After Quinn had shown a passion for the newly discovered game, Arthur had been the one to go with her brother to choose one. Her heart cried at the memory. Somehow she’d managed to get them out of Hell and build this new life for them. She would do anything to protect it, to protect Quinn.
His hand waved in front of her face and brought her back to the here and now.
There’s more. It seemed he saw right through her.
“Yes.”
I can take it. Let’s get it over with. Shoot.
With a nod and a heavy heart, she told him about Stone and the mission he’d been sent on, and lastly about the only solution to the problem she’d managed to come up with. As she’d suspected he was furious at first, claiming she was crazy, then worried, but in the end he had no choice other than to accept her decision.
She hugged him once more, and then got up from the bed. At the door, Becca turned around. “I’ll be back.”
His hands danced in a staccato, matching his defiant mood. You’d better.
Only ten minutes later, Lillian and Raz landed on her patio in a feathery chaos of elegance. The gust of wind rattled her sliding doors and Becca was grateful for their timing. She didn’t want even a spare moment to have time to change her mind.
“Hey there,” Lillian greeted. Worry showed plainly in her frown, which was to be expected following Becca’s brief but cautious phone call.
Becca ushered them inside. After Stone had confessed and told her everything, her head had almost instantly come up with a new plan. It seemed logical, but it also scared the shit out of her.
First things first, though.
Her kitchen turned into an improvised headquarters as everyone, except for Quinn and Sli, gathered together. Even though Lillian and Raz proceeded to greet the rest and were especially happy to see Dave back on his feet, the atmosphere was tense. Becca wasn’t surprised to see curiosity and alarm warring on all their faces.
After they all had settled down, either sitting on a chair or leaning against the counter, Lillian asked, “What’s going on, Becca?”
“Good question,” Linda agreed, crossing her arms over her chest.
“I have good and bad news. As always the bed news comes in a double pack.” Becca took a mom
ent to gather her thoughts. “Let me start with the good news. It seems our plan to spread the word is working.”
Lillian’s face lit up, “That is good news.”
Becca felt like shit. “The problem is…it’s working too well, actually.”
“What do you mean?”
“We made waves, but instead of Satan a marquis of Hell noticed them. His name is Andras.”
Raz leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. “How do you know?”
Gesturing towards Stone, Becca explained, “The marquis went so far as to hire Stone to find out more about me, the do-gooder witch.”
Every pair of eyes pinned him, and Becca didn’t need to be a mind reader to know what went through their heads right now.
Raz’s voice broke the laden silence, “I warned you.”
“You did,” Becca nodded. Her voice was kind but firm, “And I told you I’d rather make up my own mind. I choose to trust Stone.” She let that sink in for a moment, making sure to meet everyone’s gaze. “A couple of days ago Stone was summoned again. His orders have changed and he’s been ordered to kill me.”
That announcement didn’t go over very well. The uproar tackled her from all sides.
“What?”
“Are you out of your mind?”
“How can you trust him?”
“Stop it!” Becca shouted to be heard, silencing the room instantly. Whether it was because of her words or the anger they’d never seen her display, she couldn’t tell.
Raz stood up. “He went to Hell. What if he gave away your location? They could be surrounding us as we speak. What is going on with you?”
Lillian caught her gaze and looked at her for a long moment then at Stone. Suddenly, as if the Ivory had found what she was looking for, Lillian nodded subtly. Reaching out her hand, she tugged at Raz’s wrist. “I trust Becca’s judgment. She’s not the kind to be easily fooled.” With a wink and a smile at Stone, she added, “Besides, he loves her. It’s as plain as day.”
When Stone blushed under the onslaught of female scrutiny, Becca had to bite her lip. Before she could come to his rescue, Raz’s glare pinned him to the wall. “Hurt her, or Quinn, and I’ll kill you.”
Ebony Fight (The Guard Duet Book 2) Page 15
