Finally, two more women, inhumanly beautiful, winged and naked, went to the cowering woman and jerked her up. As her hands fell to her sides, he saw Lily’s face.
Her head drooped and she went meekly with the women who jerked on her arms. It was as they were lashing her to the floor that he started to twist on his bed, the terror he felt drying the spit from his mouth. Why was he seeing this? What was he seeing? Those women…
A dream, he told himself, trying to jerk himself awake as the two women started to crawl all over the restrained one, the one with Lily’s face. She had her face turned to the side, and tears rolled down her cheeks.
Her mouth opened in a scream as one of the other woman stood over her and struck out with a whip. It was the sound of the lash striking her flesh that woke Jonah up.
“Fuck,” he muttered, aware that he was sitting in his bed, his body soaked with sweat and his hands shaking. “What in the hell…”
Terrible language, son. Terrible, terrible language.
Automatically, Jonah turned his head to the mirror, not surprised to see Sansan staring at him with those odd, kind eyes. “Old habits die hard,” he muttered. “The woman…Lily…is she safe?”
To trust? There are few people I think that are as worthy of trust as she is, the angel murmured, his eyes distant and far off. And she knows, even better than you, what the boy is toying with, the danger he is in.
“She’s more capable of saving him than I am,” Jonah said tiredly. “She’s…pure. I have to fight every day not to succumb to what I know, what feels normal.”
I doubt it would feel as normal now as it once did, Sansan said, shrugging carelessly, his eyes staring into the distance, his gaze almost blind, as though he was seeing something from another time. You understand, now, what road you were walking. And you see how badly it hurt Lyssa, to see you as you were.
Then Sansan focused his eyes on Jonah, that penetrating gaze that made Jonah realize just how very small he was in the scheme of things. The magic he had been so coolly proud of, what he thought made him stand out was nothing. Nothing. When he looked into Sansan’s eyes, he saw just the barest glimmer of what true power was.
You understand, better than she does, how easy it is to take that wrong path, how great the temptation. Lily is…unique. She wasn’t given the choice many of us have, the choice to do good or evil. She fought to do good—even though her very nature made it nigh impossible.
Jonah scowled, his brows drawing down low over his eyes. “What in the he… What are you talking about?” he demanded, damn near biting his tongue as hell tried to slip unchecked from his mouth. “That woman isn’t evil.”
No. And it pleases me greatly that you can so easily recognize what is evil from what isn’t. Before, you wouldn’t have tried to look, even when it shone so easily, right there on the surface. Sansan smiled, that brilliant, flashing grin that could have eclipsed the sun with its brightness.
“You didn’t answer me,” Jonah said, fighting to keep his voice somewhat level.
No…I didn’t.
He was gone in the blink of eye, the echo of his laughter lingering in the air, like a warm spring breeze.
Jonah flopped back onto his bed, pressing his hands to eyes and groaning.
Chapter Five
Why in the world he woke up to go jogging, Jonah didn’t know.
He didn’t jog. Didn’t run. Never had. Never wanted to.
So why was he out on the pavement at five thirty in the morning, the soles of his shoes slapping on the sidewalk in a fast, steady rhythm? He was working on rebuilding his strength, but doing it out on the concrete, before the sun had risen, wasn’t the way he’d rather go about rebuilding his strength.
So why in the hell was he out here?
Jonah had no clue. Dragging in a breath of cold, almost-icy air, he turned the corner, glancing up to see the darker outline of trees against the lightening sky.
It was the dark, quick shadow that finally clued him in. A human-shaped shadow. Without even seeing his face, Jonah knew it was Grayson. His nephew. And somehow, he knew the boy was up to no good.
Sending a wry glance to the heavens, he muttered, “Try a direct route next time. One that doesn’t involve me and exercise, especially not this early.”
Grayson was slipping into the nature preserve, and something told Jonah he wasn’t out exercising. At least, it wasn’t the body he was exercising. Jonah could feel death. Not new, but not ancient either.
This was where the boy killed the animals he caught.
Lyssa couldn’t have possibly grasped the gravity of the situation, either.
Her son was storing power.
Jonah had been somewhat prepared for this, although he hadn’t realized it until now. There was a line of power he had to cross to get closer to the boy, and the sheer depth of the power was staggering.
Frightening—how in the hell had Grayson figured out how to do this?
He was building a hidey-hole—someplace where he could do magic, unknown, unseen. It took a great amount of power to create such a void, a place that would suck up and hide all the magic done within.
How could somebody so young have that much power?
As he watched the boy lift his head, start to glance around, Jonah silently murmured a series of words. The boy’s eyes passed over the spot where Jonah stood without seeing him.
It was a glamour, one he’d used often. It didn’t make him invisible—it was more like camouflage, hiding his body so that he blended in with his surroundings. All the boy saw was trees, brush and darkness.
With a smug, arrogant grin, the boy turned back to the entrance to his hidey-hole, certain none had seen him. Of course, the earliness of the hour took care of a lot of that, but the boy wouldn’t consider that. With the arrogance and I-know-everything attitude of youth, he’d be convinced his power was scaring everybody away.
In time, a few more weeks, he’d be right.
In a few more weeks, if he kept going, the dark magic would start to taint this area, and people would avoid it without even understanding why. It was entirely possible that Lyssa could walk through these woods without even sensing the void.
Jonah sighed, his glamour falling away as he started to walk around the web that couldn’t be seen, the base of Grayson’s hidey-hole. It was good. Damn good. A boy that young shouldn’t have that kind of power. Damn it, Lyssa must be going out of her mind with this one. She was gifted, but her talents were those of a psychic, not of a witch. She could sense her son’s power, but she was clueless how to train him.
Why didn’t she come to me, ask for help? I could have helped.
A familiar sigh whispered through his mind. Sansan softly said, She wanted to come to you—but you weren’t exactly a pillar of witchy morals. You never used blood-borne magics, but neither did you turn away from the darker roads.
Jonah flinched. He wished, just once, the angel would be a little less blunt. The angel chuckled and then was gone, leaving Jonah to stare, debate and regret.
The hidey-hole had to go. Jonah had no doubt about that. He’d have to tear it down. He’d already flexed his magic muscles, so to speak, and he knew his power hadn’t changed when Sansan had done his little body-switching routine. He had his memories as Adamm, and his magic. Tearing it down would be simple enough.
He could even knock that boy into a spell-induced sleep. Once the boy was under, he could figure how just how deep the boy was. If he was unconscious, Grayson’s shields would be weaker. Jonah could see if he was as good at manipulating people into doing the right thing as he’d been at convincing them to do the wrong thing.
If Grayson was well and truly evil, it wouldn’t work. But if he was just young and stupid and curious, it would settle into the boy’s soul and he’d start to question himself. That would give his mama the hold she needed. Just a little bit of doubt and all this darkness could be undone.
Plus, knocking him out would take one worry from Jonah’s shoulders. He would ha
ve his hands full with just the backlash from the breaking spell. That power would light up like a beacon and every magic-gifted soul around would feel it, sense it. And some would probably come hunting for it.
He crept closer, moving feet so silent the woods around him barely even sensed his presence. Muffling it, masking it, using the magic to keep his passage even more silent, he moved until he had reached the outermost layer of the magic-spun web. This close, he could sense what was going on within. Since the hidey-hole wasn’t complete, just the skeletal work, it didn’t completely hide the boy’s presence. Masked, yes, but not hidden.
Something living. Something hurting. Fear.
Something not human…and something all too human.
The boy was scared. Confused. And this was the only place he allowed himself to feel such emotions.
Jonah reached out with one hand, holding it above the fabric of the web, as his eyes drifted shut.
Fuck…there’s a pup in there. Up until now, Grayson hadn’t killed anything larger than a rabbit or a squirrel. The larger the kill, the more power its death released. He was working his way up.
In his mind’s eye, Jonah could see the puppy, whining softly in his throat, big liquid brown eyes staring at Grayson, terrified. The animal could sense the death in there. It huddled against a sapling, leashed, trapped…helpless.
Damn it, this is out of hand already.
He hated to admit it, but he wasn’t entirely certain he could do anything about Grayson. It may already be too late. He was going to try, though.
Sweat beaded on his brow as he focused on the leash. There were already some grayed areas, one spot that looked like it had been chewed on quite a bit. That was where he focused his power, using it to weaken the fibers of the leash.
The frayed ends of the leash fell apart, but the dog, unaware that it was free, continued to huddle there and whimper, watching Grayson. Jonah used a bit more magic to tug on the dog’s tail. The pup yelped and took off running. The hidey-hole wasn’t complete enough to keep the dog trapped inside and the little furball fled, still whimpering as he left behind the dark place that smelled of things rotten and dying.
Jonah used the magic to muffle his presence as the boy came tumbling out after the puppy, only to stop as he realized the dog was already long gone.
Grayson swore and angrily kicked a tree before stomping back into the hidey-hole. He left a few minutes later, his hands jammed deep into the pockets of the long black coat he wore. The affectations that boy had adopted would have made Jonah grin. But Grayson had so much darkness, so much anger inside him.
Jonah didn’t have much time left.
***
An hour later, he sat on the porch, drinking from a cup of coffee and watching the house across the street. As Grayson came out, he tossed a sneer back at his mom.
Jonah wanted to grab the boy and shake him until he showed his mother some respect. “Probably not the ideal way to help the kid,” he muttered as Grayson headed to the bus stop just down the street.
Lyssa waited on the porch, watching her son with concerned, angry eyes.
At least she wasn’t blind to what her son was doing. It had her completely torn up inside.
Why in the hell couldn’t Grayson see what he was doing to her?
“It’s been my experience kids are rather blind to what they do to their parents,” a soft voice murmured.
Slanting his head to the side, he stared at Lily as she sauntered across the grass to join him on the porch. She wore jeans and a pale blue sweater that stretched across her breasts. Leaning against the railing, she folded her arms over her belly and met his gaze.
Blood already starting to course through his veins with heated anticipation. Lily… Even before he saw her face he knew it was her. Listening to her speak, with that throaty, raspy voice, was as arousing, or more so, than another woman doing a striptease.
“How do you know what I’m thinking?” he asked, keeping his voice level. He hadn’t been talking out loud.
“I can feel it,” she said simply. “I already told you I’m not digging through your head. All I did was look at you as I walked, looked at your face, thought of you and it was just there, like words on paper.”
He slid his eyes back to Grayson’s house, cocking a brow. She shook her head. “No. I don’t know what he is thinking. He isn’t very easy to read. All that anger, all that rage inside him.”
She fell quiet as a bus turned the corner and rolled to a stop in front of a waiting group of kids. Neither of them spoke as the kids climbed aboard the bus. As it started to pull away, she said, “He tried something this morning, didn’t he?”
“Yeah.”
A troubled look crossed her face and absently, she reached up over her shoulder and rubbed at something high on her back. “I thought so. It was over quick, but I knew I’d felt something. What did he try to do?”
Jonah shook his head as he felt eyes on them. Lifting his gaze, he saw Lyssa staring at them, a thoughtful look on her face. Some protective instinct within her had been roused. He remembered that look, that searching, questing look as she reached out with her nebulous gifts.
She was rusty—she hadn’t used her gifts in a long time, but she still knew how to use them. He forced an easy smile and lifted a hand in a nonchalant wave, forcing his mind to remain blank.
Glancing over her shoulder, Lily saw the other woman. Her lips curved into a similar smile, distant and friendly, as she waved at Lyssa.
Lyssa didn’t return the gesture, just disappeared inside her house. As the door closed behind her, Jonah stood. “If we’re going to talk about this, we probably shouldn’t do it out here.”
“I doubt she could hear us,” Lily said. Then she gestured to his house. “We can talk inside, though, if you want. I get the feeling you do want to talk to me…right?”
He didn’t answer as he opened the front door and gestured for her to enter. As she sauntered inside, he followed, forcing his eyes away from the graceful sway of her hips.
“You do know this probably isn’t the best idea,” he said neutrally as she stopped in the middle of the hall and looked around.
“What isn’t the best idea?”
Jonah jerked a shoulder in a shrug. “You in my house. You barely know me. Not a good idea to follow a strange man into his house. Didn’t your mother teach you that?”
“Well, technically, I came in first and you followed me. And no…strange men were the least of my mother’s concerns.” Then she laughed and with a glint in her eye, added, “I dare say I can handle most anything a man were to throw at me. And toss him a few surprises.”
“Yes. I imagine you could,” he said quietly, his eyes narrowing on her face. Tossing his keys down on the table, he padded into the sparsely decorated living room, flopping down on the couch as Lily reached out to turn on a light. His muscles felt like putty—the run had actually felt rather good on the way back, cleansing somehow, but now he felt like his bones had been swapped out for rubber.
She lowered herself into the ratty armchair, curling her legs up to her chest like a little cat. Jonah’s body stirred as he stared at her through slitted eyes, trying to remind his body this wasn’t what he was here for—he had done enough fucking in his life. That, combined with every other selfish thing he had done was why he was here, trying desperately to save his soul before it was too late.
But damn it, he wanted her.
“The boy’s building a hidey-hole,” Jonah said softly. “You know what they are?”
She quirked a brow at him, that raven-dark, feathery brow rising, as she softly said, “I assume you talking about a power center. He’s hoarding power?”
“And hiding it. Power centers are usually very easy to locate. Unless they are hidden between here and the next plane,” Jonah said. “And he’s hiding it well. Too well, for somebody as young as he is.”
“How is he building his power center?” she asked, her face dark and troubled.
Jonah bl
ew out a breath, closing his eyes as he muttered, “Guess.”
In a flat, tight voice, she replied, “Blood. He’s killing to gain power, isn’t he?” She surged up off the chair, pacing, her long legs scissoring back and forth, her hands curling into tight fists. Her eyes flashed with anger and helplessness. She came to a halt in front of the window, staring out at the house across the street.
“Damn it, he is just a boy!”
“Not in his mind. And no matter what happens, his innocence is gone. He kissed it goodbye when he made his first kill. It’s just small things right now, but he’s ready to work his way up,” Jonah said. “I just don’t understand how a kid, that young, alone, was able to find out how to build such a power source. It’s not like it’s something you find in Wicca for Beginners.”
Lily shook her head. “There’s nothing Wiccan about what he is doing. I don’t agree with their beliefs, but Wiccans cause no harm to others.”
“You’re not Wiccan?” he asked levelly, lifting a brow as he studied her face.
“No. I’m not,” she said shortly. “Any more than you are. What are we going to do about this?”
“We?”
She blew out a breath, whirling to face him, and Jonah saw the exasperation in her eyes. “Damn it, why must you answer every question with a question? Yes, we. You think I can walk away from a boy who is trying to destroy his life? And those around him?”
“Well, it’s not like you know him.”
“And you do?” she snapped.
Jonah smiled slightly. He couldn’t exactly tell her the truth, now could he? “Good point, Lily,” he whispered. “Very good point.”
As he watched, the anger drained from her face and she pushed a hand through that thick wealth of black curls. He wondered if her hair was as silky, as soft, as it looked. “Somebody once told me that if everybody did what they could, instead of turning a blind eye, this world might not be in the sad shape it is in,” she told him.
Sounded like something Sansan would say, Jonah mused. “Some people are very optimistic.”
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