I reeled in my smile when his bloodshot eyes pinned me with a scowl. Okay, that was a little mean. Soap in the eyes were brutal, even for entities.
He tried to stand, and I gripped his bicep. “Where are you going?” I asked him.
“I bathed, now I’m getting out.”
“You have to actually wash yourself.”
He just blinked at me. I groaned. “Let this be the demonstration. I’m going to wash you so you’ll know what to do from now on. And that’s a command.” His lips twitched, revealing his white canines, and I remembered. “Oh, and you’re brushing that mouth. No more rats for you, Mister.”
“I’m going to—”
“Kill me,” I finished for him again. “These threats are getting old.” I squirted some of my body wash on the washcloth and lathered it until soap was visible on it.
I started at his shoulders as he sulked, running the cloth down his arm. I repeated the process to his other having to bend over him as I did. My hair fell onto his chest and he reared back like I slapped him. I whipped the ponytail onto my back but as I grabbed his hand and slid the cloth between his fingers, it fell onto him again. He sucked in a breath and slowly gravitated back toward me. I dropped his hand into the water and tilted my head so that we were eye to eye.
My body tingled with awareness. The heat emanating from the water dampened the skin on my neck. He reached up, curled my hair around his fist one time before placing it on my back again. Heat pooled in my lower stomach.
I placed the cloth on his neck, running it along his collarbone slowly. He watched every little thing I did. It wasn’t irritating nor was it bad. It was strangely intimate. My flesh was fevered now instead of just warm. In addition, his penetrating stare reached between my thighs. A terrible yearning took root inside me.
I engrossed myself with cleaning his chest. The way the suds ran down the ridges and brawny layers on his abdomen, and the way he sucked in when I reached his stomach. I peeked up to see the shadowy, almost pained expression on him. His eyes were terribly dark and glassy when they were normally so bright and green. He latched onto my hand that was scrubbing him. “I can do it from here,” he whispered, his voice strangely husky.
Embarrassment slipped through my features, my mouth frowned before I could process that I was indeed disappointed. He thought I’d…
I dropped the cloth, leaning out of the tub and resting on my knees. I might have teased him but that was it. It stung a little that he assumed I’d wash lower. I was a bitch, but I wasn’t someone to take advantage of someone that was a virgin, even to try to get him to leave. He wasn’t a sexual creature, I reminded myself. It wasn’t me—or him—really. This entire need to fight with him turned everything awkward. What if he sensed my brief arousal—a momentary reaction to his body? The thought had mortification seeping through my veins.
I waited for the urge to lash out or be angry from his reaction, but oddly, nothing came. Just uncertainty. Which was strange. My sin was out of whack, and apparently so was I. “At least let me wash your hair.”
With hazy, darkened eyes, Jackal nodded. I leaned over him and grabbed the shampoo, poured some in my palm, and set the bottle down before rubbing my hands together.
“Bend your head down some.”
He complied immediately, probably to get it over with quicker. I placed my palms in his short hair, spreading the shampoo all over his head. I dug my fingers into his hair, massaging his scalp in the process. His head raised slightly, green irises observing me quietly, yet intently. I ran my hand behind his ears and he closed his eyes, leaning into my touch.
I smiled. “Does that feel good?”
They reopened. “I am not sure.”
His words surprised me and I froze. What did he mean by that?
He must have noticed my stunned expression because his gaze rounded in equal shock like he was surprised he said it.
How did he not know if it felt good?
He pulled away from me hurriedly. “I can finish.”
“Close your eyes as you rinse the water,” I said quickly. I was ready to be done with this entire endeavor. In the process of making things uncomfortable for him, I did the same to myself.
Chapter 4
Payne
“Wait… What?” I couldn’t stop the contents of my drink from spewing out and hitting Barron’s boots. I knew better than to speak and swallow at the same time, but what he told us took me by surprise. Barron’s eyes clamped shut. I could tell that thin thread of control of his was being tampered with. He fought not to look at where my drink had hit him, instead choosing to breathe deeply through his nose with his arms crossed over his chest. Danger emanated from him as his restraint slowly unraveled.
“It’s okay, Barron.” Sebastian placed his hand on his brother’s shoulder making everything worse—no one touched Barron when he was on the fringe of raging out. Sadly, Sebastian was trying to help in the only way he knew how. “Breathe in and out.”
“Are you trying to make him rage out?” Prudence sat on the couch in the family room, crossing her long legs and focusing on Sebastian.
Barron opened his eyes and dragged them toward Sebastian. “I can’t kill Payne since he isn’t immortal, but I can and will kill you, Sloth.” Barron really had a knack for making a guy feel incompetent for not being immortal around a bunch of eternal idiots—I meant entities.
Sebastian shook his head and sighed. “What a ray of sunshine you are.”
“Back to what you were saying,” I interrupted Sebastian before he tried to poke the beast some more. “Maureen found Jackal?” Taking a deep breath, Barron’s scowl vanished, and he nodded.
“I never brought up we were searching for Jackal,” Sebastian’s brows furrowed in the middle. “How did she find out?”
The question seemed to make Barron’s temper worse. “She made a bet with Gavin.”
Sebastian swore, and I understood why. The vamp had been trying to get with Maureen for as long as I could remember. He was a shady demon who couldn’t be trusted. Problem was Maureen never turned down a challenge or bet. I figured it had something to do with the curse of pride but couldn’t be sure since I didn’t know how the curses affected all the siblings—just Barron and Sebastian since theirs was the easiest to see. “She’s still betting down at The Den?”
“You say it like she can stop herself,” Prudence added. Silence filled the room as we silently acknowledged Maureen’s sin. Something we did a lot.
“I thought Barron would have killed him already,” Sebastian admitted, casting a dark frown at his brother.
Barron’s jaw jumped. “You know it’s not that simple with Maureen. You can’t just interfere with her problems even if she knows it’s a problem.”
Sebastian lowered his head. “You’re right.”
“How did she even find him?” I steered the conversation back to where it was meant to go.
“She hangs out with a pretty powerful warlock named Newt,” Barron informed us. “He probably helped her.”
“He managed to find someone even we couldn’t find?” Sebastian tilted his head. “Maybe we should recruit him as a Reaper.”
“That would explain why she isn’t here.” August entered the room, letting his presence be known in his typical manner—loud and obnoxious. “Maureen never misses an opportunity to beat us at something, even if it’s showing up at the castle first.” He was right. She was normally here first when we were all called, but since Barron summoned us, maybe he left her out on purpose. August strode over to his brothers. “So where is she, Barron? Considering she’s not here, she better be all right.”
Barron’s skin rippled. “Maureen’s fine. She collared Jackal.”
August’s mouth quirked to the side. “Collared?” I shared his amusement, only I was better at concealing mine.
“It has some sort of magic in it granting her control of him.” Barron smirked. “I saw it for myself.”
Sebastian said, “We need to speak with Jacka
l—”
Barron interjected, “He can’t do what you ask of him.” Sebastian’s shoulders slumped, and Barron continued, “He can create plagues, but he’s never reversed one.”
“Then he only needs to try,” Sebastian said still hopeful. “Certain parts of the human world are already seeing famine and disease. It’s only going to get worse.” The human world always experienced some sort of turmoil since its beginning, but Sebastian was right. What was happening now was caused by the vortex Harvest created. If it hadn’t been for Sebastian and Isabella, Harvest would have succeeded in ending everything then.
Our win hadn’t really been a victory. Instead, it left us with a sobering fact—the end was coming sooner than prophesied. All we did was to extend its date by eight months. It was all the time we had to change fate, but that wasn’t something easily changed—if ever.
That’s why it was called fate. It wasn’t supposed to be in anybody’s hands, but we were all reaching desperately for it. I wouldn’t die when the end came like the Reaper family would, but even so they were my family. My parents were their best friends. I lived and breathed most of my days with these immortals. I wasn’t willing to give up, so I clung to hope for them and the fate of the humans we spent our lives protecting.
Funny how that all worked.
“I haven’t met Jackal.” Grim entered the room with Melanie, his wife, by his side.
The powerful entity loved his family above all others. He didn’t care if anyone in the Underworld saw the sentiment as weak. For an entity that lived hundreds of years, I could understand why he adored his family. It took him a long time to find it. Love was a lock and only the right key would open it. Sure you could try to unlock your heart with any key. But in the end, only the one destined for you would fit. If you failed to find it, you’d end up lonely and feeling flat—if anything at all. You might begin to wonder if out of all the millions of souls in existence, was there one meant for yours.
“Sorry, I’m late,” Joy faded into the room, her dirty blonde hair falling over her shoulder as she bent down to adjust her boots. “I got caught up in the human world.”
Even worse was when love breathed down your neck, and there was no choice but to push it away. Not because you feared it. Not because you hated it. But for another reason that had nothing to do with love and everything to do with pain.
Grim announced, “You’ll meet with Jackal, Sebastian. Determine what kind of man he is and convince him to heal what he can with the human world… If he can.”
I moved to the edge of the room unnoticed. Or at least I had hoped, but Joy had a knack for finding me no matter where I hid. Her gaze tried to meet mine, but I focused on Grim.
“Better yet, send Maureen a text and have her bring him here tomorrow,” Grim said. “We’ll determine what kind of entity he is. Whether he’s unswayable and just as dangerous as Harvest, or if he can be tempted to our side like Fear.” Grim smirked in my direction at the mention of my father. “Or at least be a decent demon most days. We wouldn’t ask for anything more than his help.”
I shook my head. I was well aware how much all of them liked to goad me about my parents. It was obvious how devious and reckless my parents were compared to me. They were reformed villains after all. They couldn’t change who they were, and I never expected it. Their wild traits shaped me into an adult who sought out a purpose like Grim’s instead of spending my time running The Den. I spent one too many nights anxious for my parent’s well-being even while knowing how strong they were.
More than anything, I knew how different I was from them, but it didn’t change how much I loved them. Despite their tempers and craziness, I couldn’t imagine having any other parents. It’s why I was never curious about who my birth parents were—only about what species I was.
“Where’s Isabella?” Sebastian asked Melanie.
“She’s in the kitchen,” she told him.
He slipped by his mom and planted a kiss on her cheek before disappearing to find his witch.
“Payne,” Joy’s meek voice called out to me.
I pushed myself off the wall. “If that’s all, I’ll be going.”
I didn’t even bother waiting for someone to answer. I knew the conversation ended once Grim made his decision. I pressed the portal chip in my jeans and ported.
Chapter 5
Jackal
Twenty-four hours spent with this female was more like a lifetime. By the twenty-ninth hour, I was no closer to getting the collar off. She was determined to act indifferent to me never leaving her side, but I knew the truth. The air surrounding her was no different from the air surrounding me. She was irritated yet after watching her the last day; I knew there was no changing her mind.
She was like an impenetrable fortress. Unwilling to submit or open to the fury we both felt at being together.
But I was the same. I’d never give in to leaving, not when she wanted that. Nor would I as long as this collar was on me.
Unable to give up, I followed her to every corner of her house. When she sat, I sat next to her. When she ate, I stared a hole through her, but when she shoved something inside my mouth, hundreds of flavors burst through at once. My sense of taste was assaulted by whatever food she placed in my mouth. It was good, one she described as salty, then another one was something tangy. I thought this was what humans meant when something was tasty.
I ignored her knowing smirk as I finished whatever was in the dish. We didn’t speak, but I didn’t like that I couldn’t annoy her when she kept distracting me which she did over the next few hours. She kept materializing more and more food and ate whatever it was right in front of me. I tried my hardest to act like she wasn’t bothering me, but I gave myself away every time. My mouth dropped, and I drooled as I watched her eat.
Being hungry further proved to me how strange life was. Demons and humans alike all needed something. Why did you want to put yourself through this agony and live with all these different kinds of pains? First, I had to experience the sorrow of losing someone. Now the hearts made me understand hunger. What else would they force upon me?
Why for the life of me couldn’t I stop letting her mock me with food? I was letting her feed me for Hade’s sake!
I was a plague on mankind. Everyone feared me thanks to my creator. Would they feel the same if they knew I went into hibernation just because I couldn’t handle being alive with feelings?
The one hundred and thirty-seven hearts, beating my ribcage, must have agreed on some level. The pain was all-consuming, but it was also the only thing that ebbed the desire to have whatever food in her hand. Wincing, I grabbed my chest. Experiencing emotions and needing to conceal them were new for me. I didn’t hide anything because I never had any moods to hide before—pain or anger. But with Maureen constantly watching me I realized I needed to learn.
“I really have taken in a giant dog. You’ve done that a lot now,” she finally broke our silence. She had her dark hair tied up. She was… I didn’t know what she was. Her eyes were like black pools that held me spellbound. There was no glancing away when she stared at me. The contrast between her hair and skin was like night and day. I never understood the concept or meaning behind beauty, but…
The delicate curve to her hips covered in the black, tight pants and the full weight of her breasts spilling from the shirt she wore revealed to me the difference between a woman, and what I was. Remembering her hands in my scalp, her palm guiding a rag over my chest…. A hot energy crackled beneath my skin. The heat raging inside me made it impossible to take my eyes off her. I just knew she attracted plenty of men who would want to mate with her.
She pushed herself off the counter and stopped in front of me. She was close enough that I could smell lavender and something almost spicy. I wasn’t lying when I told her that her smell clashed within itself, but I left out how weird it made me feel too and I didn’t like it. There was something almost intoxicating about her. I wondered if she went around making everyone feel so
strange. I’d felt enough already and didn’t want to anymore. Having reactions was more a burden than it was fun.
I moved to the right careful not to touch her. I didn’t want the collar attacking me, I reasoned with myself. That was why I was getting away. Chill bumps broke out on my neck as another waft of lavender invaded my nostrils. It was something else. What would have happened if she had continued to wash me? The flesh on the back of my neck was damp. Why was it so hot in here? I wasn’t close enough to detect her body’s warmth yet it was beckoning me all the same. No. That wasn’t right either… I was just so aware of her that it was stifling the kitchen.
I was so fucking over emotions.
As soon as I got angry, the hearts got angrier. It was like they were reminding me that I didn’t get to be mad. They did. They were dead. Not me. For a moment, the dark abyss of a guilty conscience swallowed me whole. Why was I stuck living eternally when I had no desire to live?
I sensed I was broken long before I understood that I really was broken. I was never pieced together to be like anyone else. Instead, I was a plague dropper. A killer who couldn’t even comprehend that what he did was wrong. I thought I was doing them a favor. From the outside, seeing them go through so many hardships… Why would they want to live? You were starving to death, anyway. Humans needed food to sustain themselves yet the hunter came home empty most nights that was what I thought before I stepped into their village. If it wasn’t the need for food, it was the weather. They froze to death or suffered sickness from the sun. I still didn’t get it. When I delivered disease, it would all eventually end. The hurt on their faces. I didn’t understand their pain nor feel it, but all the same I saw it. I was created to help along the Devil’s ambition. This I always knew. I wasn’t made to care or ask why.
But the hearts were determined to make me miserable. Remind me of my brokenness. My inability to understand even with feelings.
“Why do you keep grabbing your chest?” Her voice pulled me out of my thoughts. I opened my eyes and met hers. She seemed startled before her gaze hardened. “Not that I care. You just keep randomly grabbing it.”
Jackal's Pride (Seven Deadly Book 2) Page 6
