Curses, Fates & Soul Mates

by et al Kristie Cook

  And with that, the Angel walked away, leaving me standing, my heart sinking.

  CHAPTER 22

  I often find myself reliving the kiss the Demon Luther gave me in exchange for an amulet. It was a harsh kiss, possessive despite the fact we know nothing about each other. I’ve had kisses before. I’ve had relationships before, one of them serious. It lasted over a year. So why do I keep remembering a kiss from a near stranger?

  ~Monroe’s Totally Wicked Book of Shadows~

  Two hours later, and I found myself sitting in a dark living room downstairs, my eyes on a flat widescreen television with an old black and white film off of Turner Classic Movies throwing bright flashes of light against the room’s wine-colored walls. The black suede couch I sat on was thick and soft, and I sank into the cushions, my gaze going from the muted television to the glass coffee table in front of me. The grimoire.

  “Feeling hopeless?” a voice asked.

  I closed my eyes. “And if I am?”

  The couch cushion next to me shifted as Luther sat down. “And you accused Demons of feeling lonely and afraid,” he said snidely.

  I opened my eyes. “Aren’t you?”

  Luther laughed. “I’m not. You’re only what you allow yourself to be.”

  I shrugged one shoulder. “Then I’m allowing myself to feel hopeless.”

  “Liar,” Luther accused, his mouth turned up into a grin. “I’ve been inside your head, remember? You don’t give yourself much room to feel hopeless.”

  I was finding it hard not to grin at him. Luther had that effect. I could be downright pissed at him, and he’d still make me smile.

  Luther’s eyes went to the television, and then back to me. “Old Hollywood. I dated an actress back then,” he said with a wink. “Seems more glamorous on the screen than it actually was.”

  I scowled. “Don’t mess with my delusion.”

  His dark eyes searched my face. “It’s kind of hard to watch a movie if you can’t hear it.”

  I had my feet tucked underneath me, and I shifted, letting my toes touch the wood floor. Anger swept through me.

  “It’s more for comfort,” I said, my eyes narrowed on his face. “I’m having a hard time resting when Belle and Henry are suffering God knows what with your mother.”

  Luther’s eyes moved away from my face and down to my lap. I was ringing my hands, not so much out of fear as anxiety. He started to cover my hands with his, and I pulled away.

  “Lilith won’t hurt them,” Luther promised. “If anything, she will wine and dine them. She gets a kind of perverted satisfaction out of giving people the things they enjoy most out of life before killing them.”

  That didn’t make me feel any better.

  I drew in a deep breath. “What if I just offered her my soul? Would she let them all go then, including Bernice?”

  Luther sat up abruptly, his fingers going to my chin. He gripped it painfully, forcing me to look him in the face.

  “You don’t know what you’d be offering, Witch,” he growled. “If you think being a Demon is such an awful life, you don’t want to be the eternal servant of one. You understand?”

  His eyes moved back and forth, and I watched, fascinated as his eyes bled from forest green to red and back again. He leaned in, and I inhaled. Luther smelled like nothing I’d ever smelled before. Like sin should smell. Like chocolate tasted as it melted on the tongue. Like a fire would smell without the smoke.

  “I liked it better when I was inside your head,” he murmured.

  I placed my hand on his, tugging on it as I continued to look at him. Baseball caps. He collected baseball caps. I kept repeating that over and over in my head.

  “Why are you so willing to fight your mother for my soul?” I asked him. “You don’t know me. Not really. You could be inside my head for years, and you still wouldn’t know everything. So I gave you an amulet once that kept Lucifer out of your head? And? Is that why you’re doing this? Really?”

  Luther let me pull his hand away, but he immediately trapped my fingers in his, his eyes gleaming.

  “Maybe I like the idea of beating my mother,” he said.

  I snorted. “When this first started, we had no idea your mother was involved. Be honest with me.”

  Luther stared at our fingers. “I’m fascinated by you.”

  His answer surprised me, and I fought to pull away from him.

  “That’s it?” I asked. “Your fascinated with me?” I laughed. “You would fight your mother for my soul out of fascination?”

  Luther shrugged. “Look at me,” he said, and I did. “I live my life out of want rather than need. If I want something, I take it. It’s the truth. I don’t try to hide it. But I’m only half-Demon, Monroe. I do have the tendency to care about people. I don’t like it. Hell, I hate it, but it’s there. My brother, for one. For him, I would do much. I owe my brother and your friend, Dayton, a lot. I like you. I’m fascinated by you. And I hate my mother. That’s enough for me. If you are looking for something deeper, you won’t find it.”

  His gaze had me hypnotized. “I wasn’t looking for anything deeper,” I argued.

  Luther’s brows rose. “Weren’t you? Isn’t that what women do? Try to change what they believe is bad?”

  I shook my head again. “You can’t change what doesn’t want to be changed.”

  Luther grinned. “Exactly.”

  I looked at Luther, and like I did with Bernice earlier, I really looked at him, at his cocky grin, at his muscled body and black t-shirt, at the way he held his shoulders back with a confidence most people never find. He was comfortable with himself. He was mischievous, even bad at times, but he was honorable enough to repay those he owed. He didn’t pretend to care about people, but he didn’t necessarily destroy people either. I certainly didn’t want to be his enemy. He genuinely liked who he was, and there was something sexy about that.

  The thought surprised me, and I gazed at him openly. “I wouldn’t want you to change.”

  The words slipped out, and I couldn’t have taken them back even if I wanted to.

  Luther’s eyes narrowed. “What?”

  I started to get up, and Luther stopped me.

  “What did you say?” he asked.

  “Nothing,” I said hastily. “I didn’t say anything.”

  I tried once more to move, but Luther’s grip on me was firm, unrelenting.

  “Then say nothing again,” he ordered.

  I just managed not to snort. “You’re not in my head anymore, Luther. You can’t make me do anything.”

  His hand tightened on my arm. “Say it,” he repeated.

  His demanding voice startled me, and I looked at him again, my eyes searching his fierce expression. What I saw in his gaze surprised me.

  “I said I wouldn’t want you to change,” I said slowly, quietly.

  Luther released me, and I rubbed my arm as he reached out and touched my hair. It was down now, and it swung against my glass-scarred cheeks. Memories of my past with Luther bombarded me. The mischievous Luther. Even Dayton had warned me away from him in her own way. Why? Because he was okay being who he was?

  “You should really take your own advice, Witch,” Luther said suddenly. “Quit trying so hard to change.”

  My eyes widened. I wasn’t trying to change, was I?

  Luther leaned in. “You don’t have to pretend to live in the past all the time, Monroe.”

  I had just opened my mouth to protest when an electric shock went through my body, and it wasn’t from Luther. I pushed him away and braced myself. Luther stiffened next to me, his teeth clenched.

  “Whatever you do,” Luther said, just as Lilith’s terrifying laughter filled the living room, “fight like hell.”

  On the television, a laughing June Allyson was being kissed by a gallant Van Johnson.

  CHAPTER 23

  When I was ten, I fell off a roof because I thought I could fly on a broomstick. In my own defense, I knew my mother was a witch, and we h
ad been watching a lot of Hocus Pocus because it was almost Halloween. Bette Midler, Kathy Najimy, and Sarah Jessica Parker played commercialized witches, what society liked to think witches were like, but I still thought they were kind of cool. I even went around making sucking noises around Conor and Dayton in an attempt to suck out their life forces. That lasted a day before Conor poured red kool-aid on my hair. It took a week for my hair to look blonde again. It was the only time in my life I’ve ever thought being an evil witch would be cool.

  ~Monroe’s Totally Wicked Book of Shadows~

  “Hello, Monroe,” Lilith crooned as she entered the room.

  I grabbed my head as pain exploded behind my eyes. “Ahhhhhh!”

  Lilith laughed. “Hurts doesn’t it?”

  Beside me, Luther’s hand touched my arm, and the pain lessened. It didn’t go away, but it lessened. The makeshift amulet around my neck was so bright, it was blinding. Even through the fabric.

  “You’re becoming a nuisance, Son,” Lilith said sweetly.

  Luther stood. “Wonderful. Nothing makes me happier.”

  Lilith’s eyes moved to Luther’s. “I’ve come to take my due. You know as well as I do, you can’t stop me. Her soul is mine.”

  Luther held his hands up. “I’m not trying to stop you, Mother. I wouldn’t dream of it.”

  The pain in my head intensified, and I slid from the couch to the floor, my hand grabbing instinctively for the grimoire. I clutched it, my teeth grinding together.

  “Come!” Lilith’s voice ordered in my head, and I could feel sweat break out on my forehead as my legs started to move of their own accord. I pushed them down.

  “No!”

  I hadn’t realized I’d said the word aloud until Lilith laughed.

  “Cute,” she said. “You think you can best me, Witch. I’m impressed. I think your soul is going to be the jewel in my collection.”

  “Come!” her voice shouted, and my arms and legs began to shake even as they moved. I fought harder, my teeth grinding painfully with each step. I was pretty sure I resembled something from a bad B-rated zombie film, but jerky was better than controlled.

  The amulet began to glow so brightly, it burned.

  Lilith cursed.

  “That damned necklace!” she said, her body moving toward me.

  It was the first time I’d really gotten a good look at the she-Demon since I’d seen her in the vision with Eta, and it terrified me. Her black hair blew around her face, an invisible wind lifting it around her head, twisting and turning the strands until it resembled angry snakes.

  Her blood red lips sneered at me, her eyes gleaming, fiery jewels as she approached me, her sharp, scarlet nails lifting so quickly, I wasn’t prepared for the snap as the blinds cord around my neck came apart. The shard of glass attached to it went to the floor and shattered.

  I whimpered as her hand came to my face. “Come, Monroe,” she ordered.

  And I followed because, really, there was nothing else I could do. My vision blurred. I was in the living room one moment, and then the hall. Maybe?

  I shook my head, but it didn’t help.

  “All is well. Be calm.” Lilith’s voice said in my head, and I went limp.

  Once, I thought I saw Lucas step up to Luther, his face angry, but I couldn’t be sure.

  “Lilith!” Lucas called, but Luther placed a hand on the Angel’s shoulder.

  “No,” Luther said, his angry red eyes on his mother. “Not yet, Angel. We bide our time.”

  Lilith laughed at the two of them, the sound ripping through my frame. I’m pretty sure I screamed.

  And then there was crying.

  NeeCee!

  I fought Lilith’s iron control over my mind, kicking and screaming until my lungs were on fire and my head felt like it was going to explode.

  “Stop this, Witch!” Lilith ordered, and once again, I grew still.

  Was this how Maggie felt before she died? Like a puppet with a ventriloquist’s hand up her back, controlling her every move.

  I think I said please, but it may have been a figment of my imagination.

  “Monroe!” someone shouted. NeeCee.

  Tears slid down my cheeks. Eternity as a puppet.

  My bare feet were moving through grass now, and it was damp outside. Twigs caught at my toes, pine needles and acorns eating into my flesh, and I was tired.

  “Walk!”

  The order was harsh, and my feet sped up of their own accord, my teeth grinding as pain went through my soles. I was stepping on stone and dirt and pine cones.

  “Please!” I begged.

  This time, I was pretty sure the words came from me. I didn’t slow.

  “No,” Lilith cackled. “We have a lot to do tonight, Monroe. Be prepared. Tonight is going to change your life forever.”

  Forever.

  The word echoed throughout my head.

  Forever.

  Over and over.

  Forever.

  Distantly, I realized I was still holding the Ayers grimoire in my hands, my fingers pressing into it so tightly, they were leaving impressions in the cover. I waited for it to fall away from me, for Lilith’s control to make me drop it. But it stayed in my arms, secure, warm. So many Ayers witches. So many of their souls trapped now by Lilith. I could almost feel them, their pain as fresh as mine.

  I lifted my head. I was a witch. I was an Ayers witch! I could fight her. I could! Fight like hell, Luther had said. I almost laughed at the irony.

  My vision cleared.

  I was in the forest, and I was freezing. I had on my sweatshirt and blue jeans, but with my feet bare, I was a block of ice. My mother had always joked that as long as she kept my feet warm, the rest of me would follow.

  I thought of her now. My mother. My teeth were chattering, my feet so cold they were painful, the throbbing so intense it made me cry. I hated crying.

  “Stop!” Lilith ordered, and I froze.

  We were in a clearing, and the sky above it was dark blue, not quite navy, but close. A full moon was rising. I wasn’t sure how much time had passed since Lilith had ordered me to follow her, but it was obvious by the sky, it had been a couple of hours.

  “Welcome to your eternity,” Lilith said, one red-clawed hand indicating the trees on the edge of the clearing.

  There, tied to three different tree trunks, was Belle, Henry, and Bernice, their mouths gagged, and their eyes wide, terrified. Bernice’s cheeks glistened, and I knew she was crying.

  “No,” I whispered.

  Lilith was suddenly behind me, her breath on my neck, and my heart went to my throat.

  “Oh yes, Monroe,” she said, her hands guiding my head to the middle of the clearing.

  I swallowed a sob. On the ground, there lay four small brown bags and a black-handled athame. I’d seen them before. They belonged to Eta.

  “No,” I said again.

  Lilith smiled. “Oh, it’s been years since I have felt this energetic about something,” she said. “Just look at it all! Isn’t it beautiful?”

  It wasn’t beautiful. It was horrible!

  I wanted to cover my face with my hands, but I wasn’t willing to drop the grimoire. Why? I had no idea. I was beginning to hate the book, and yet something about it wouldn’t let me let it go.

  Lilith noticed me clutching it, and she tapped the cover with her nails.

  “So many of your family’s stories. Such private moments. Tell me, Witch, do you have your own book of shadows?”

  The muscles in my jaw moved as I clenched it, my eyes straight ahead.

  Lilith laughed. She was doing a lot of laughing.

  “Are you ready to meet your destiny?” she asked.

  The anger that unfurled in my belly warmed me, and I looked at her and hoped like hell my blue eyes were shining.

  “This is not my destiny.”

  “Oh we’ll see about that,” Lilith answered me.

  The trees behind us stirred, the movement too strong to be the wind.
<
br />   Lilith looked up. “Come to watch?” she asked.

  I didn’t have to look behind me to know who it was. I felt the electrical energy all the way to my toes.

  “What?” Luther asked. “You of all people know how much I like front row seats. I even saved a few spots for some of your favorite people.”

  His words made me look up, my eyes going to the forest beyond. Luther stepped from the foliage, Lucas on his heels.

  My body began to tingle, the energy familiar.

  “Hello, Mother,” another male voice said.

  Out of the trees stepped Marcas Craig, the large, black-haired hybrid king of the Outer Levels of Hell, and with him was my best friend, Dayton Blainey. Both of their eyes glowed red.

  CHAPTER 24

  Mom used to tell me I was an obstinate child. It wasn’t that I was bad, I was just stubborn. I was a boss, always ordering my three older brothers around as if they were little toy soldiers rather than big, growing young men. I was, in all actuality, a complete and utter control freak.

  ~Monroe’s Totally Wicked Book of Shadows~

  Relief, hope, and joy had just begun to fill my veins when my body was suddenly lifted into the air and slammed against a tree on the opposite side of the clearing.

  “Monroe!” Dayton screamed.

  I crumpled to the ground, the grimoire falling from my grip.

  “Stay low!” Lilith ordered, and I went down on my stomach, my cheek against the grass.

  I could just make out a group of small insects marching in front of my eyes as a tear slid down my cheek onto the soil below my face. Lilith was going to kill me. She was going to break my body until there was nothing left to put together the same way she’d done to Maggie. Even now, I could feel the blood seeping through my sweatshirt where my side had gone into the tree, the skin scraped by the bark.

  “What business do you have here, Marcas?” Lilith asked.

  The hybrid king said nothing at first, and I managed to roll my head just enough to make out the group opposite me. Marcas was perusing the clearing, his eyes raking the victims tied to the trees before they made their way to me.