by Olsen, Lisa
Ethan’s eyes popped open as the image snapped off like a switch. The vivid clarity of the vision held tight to his mind, the feel of the night breeze coming in through the window, the terror in Cady’s eyes, shiny and bright against the subdued light. His muscles propelled him out of the circle without thinking, lurching unsteadily from lack of grounding. All he knew was he had to get to Cady, he had to save her before that sick bastard took her. Because he knew it as surely as he knew his own name, Cady was the one the demon wanted.
He was halfway though strapping on his knives when it hit him that it was still light outside. There was plenty of time before the vision came to pass, if it was even slated to happen that night. Still, he had to see her, to prove to himself that she was alright. Strapping on the rusty blade and the shiny, black, obsidian dague anyway, Ethan stopped long enough to put on fresh socks and shoes, before knocking at her door.
No answer came, and he pressed his ear to the cracked, green paint, sure he heard traces of movement inside. He could break into her apartment no problem, but Ethan was leery of doing that. If it was her brother inside, there was no way to justify his actions, and Ian seemed like the physical type. He’d rather not have to hurt the guy, even if he was an occasional asshat, according to Cady.
That left the fire escape. From the layout of the building, he knew the fire escape was outside Cady’s window, probably the way Q had chosen to break into her room. He also knew there was no platform outside his own bedroom window. Ducking his head outside, it was only a few feet from his window to hers. Without a ledge it’d be more difficult, but the ancient bricks afforded him plenty of hand and footholds. In just a few minutes, he’d worked his way over to her window, landing light as a cat on the metal grate.
Ethan peeked into the window, pushed wide open in the heat of the day. Cady lay on her stomach across the top of her bed, a pair of hot pink headphones covering both ears. Her hair was bound up in an intricate braid, keeping her shoulders cooler. The shorts she wore were brief, barely covering her curves, the strappy cotton top not doing much better to shield the top half of her body either.
Satisfied she was safe, he couldn’t bring himself to move away from the window, despite feeling like a voyeur. Her bare legs moved with languid grace, bobbing to the unheard beat of the music -- up and down -- it was hypnotic. Cady leaned back to scratch the side of one supple thigh, her twisting movement affording him a deep view of ample cleavage. Ethan swallowed, feeling like the lowest pervert for intruding into her privacy. His knee knocked against the metal bar beside him as he prepared to withdraw, the movement catching her eye.
“Fuck a duck!” she yelled with impressive volume, rolling off the other side of the bed.
Ethan didn’t know if it would be worse to stay or go, but her head popped up on the other side of the bed and he gave her an awkward wave. “Um, hi.”
Cady tore the headphones free and threw them aside, her movements shaky. “You scared the crap out of me!”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.”
“You didn’t think showing up at my window would be a little creepy?”
“I tried your door, you didn’t answer.” It didn’t seem like enough, but what else could he say?
She took a deep breath, rising from her crouched position to approach the window, no longer wary. “What happened to staying away from each other?” she challenged.
“This isn’t a social call. I wanted to make sure you’re alright.” He thought he saw disappointment there, but maybe that was his own fancy.
Swiping a hand across her neck, she peered past him, out the window. “How long have you been out there?”
“Not that long.”
“Do you want to come in?”
The invitation surprised him, but Ethan shook his head. “No, thank you.” Still, he made no move to leave, and she perched on the sill after a few seconds of staring at him through the window. Ethan held his position, crouching on the fire escape. “No work tonight?” he guessed aloud.
“No, I have the night off.”
“Where’s your brother?”
“At the Sugar Shack.” Her head tilted to one side, brown eyes regarding him steadily. “What are you really doing here? I thought you were guarding Penny.”
What would she do, he wondered, if he told her everything? So far, she seemed to accept the rapid healing, the strange tattoos, the story about the cult without batting an eye. Part of him wanted to share it all with her, but years of training had him dealing in half truths. “I got a tip that you were in danger.”
“The psychic again?”
“Yeah, something like that.”
“What did they tell you?”
Ethan chose his words carefully, not wanting to scare her, but needing to warn her all the same. “That he was going to come after you tonight.”
“From the cult, you mean?”
“Yes.”
“Well, who is this guy? What should I be looking out for?”
“I’d say anyone who shows up at your window is a fair start. Apart from me, of course.”
Her lips curved into a faint smile. “Of course. What else can you tell me about him? Maybe we can get to him before he comes here.”
He didn’t like the sound of that one bit. “I don’t know his name or where he lives, I just know what he looks like.”
“Okay, then what does he look like?”
The image was fixed in his mind, but the basic description would never do. “Do you have a pencil and a piece of paper?”
“Sure, hold on a sec.” Her long limbs folded inside and Cady disappeared into the other room. The seconds stretched on and Ethan considered going in after her, when she reappeared with a blank piece of printer paper in one hand and a green pencil in the other. “Sorry, this is all I had. Here, you can draw on this.” From the bottom shelf of a small bookcase she produced an oversized children’s book. The Bears Almanac.
“This’ll be fine.” Ethan set to work, pencil moving over the paper with light strokes at first, growing bolder as the face took shape. He drew the man half in shadow, as he’d first seen him. Cady watched him closely, as absorbed in the process as he was, until she twisted her head to get a better vantage point. A startled gasp left her lips as she snatched the unfinished drawing from his fingers.
“I saw this guy today!”
His fingers itched to grab the paper back; it wanted a little shading here, a bit more definition there, but her declaration drove that from his mind. “You did? Where?”
“At the Laundromat, earlier. I thought he was kind of weird, but… Are you sure he’s one of them?”
He’d already made contact without hurting her? It was inconceivable. “Yes, I’m absolutely sure.”
Her brow crumpled in confusion, staring at the man’s face, unconvinced. “But… he seemed so… clueless. If he was planning to rape and kill me, he was terrible at it.” She handed the drawing back to him. “If that’s what we’re up against, I think our chances are pretty good.”
Again, the use of the word we made him uneasy. “Maybe he was trying to lull you into a false sense of security so you would go home with him?”
“If so he gave up awful easy.”
“Then maybe he mostly wanted to follow you home so he could come back tonight, because that’s the vision I saw. Him standing here, in your bedroom, at night.”
“The vision you saw?” She arched a single brow. “I thought you went to a psychic.”
“Really not the issue at hand here.” He waved her off, regretting the slip of the tongue. It was getting harder to keep things from her.
“Okay, but apart from the weird factor, I didn’t get much of a danger vibe off of him. He practically fell all over himself apologizing before he left.”
“Tell me exactly what he said to you.” Ethan listened as she recounted the odd conversation and his puzzlement grew. It didn’t make sense. Why approach her like that? And why hadn’t she been affected by his power? “So, y
ou didn’t feel the least bit like falling for him? Nothing like with the last guy?”
“With Claudio? No, nothing like that at all,” she replied after a moment’s thought. “Why, does he know how to hypnotize people too?”
“Yes, he should. They all share that ability.”
“Then why didn’t he make those bedroom eyes at me like last time? Why the weird pick up lines?”
“I don’t know. Maybe he thought he could do it on his own.” There were too many unknowns that made him uncomfortable with the situation. Usually the hunt was fairly straightforward. Track the subject by establishing his hunting grounds, use the visions to suss out a likely target, and then trap the demon in the host long enough to perform the ritual of binding. Without variation he’d met with success time and again, but Q confounded him by playing this game of patience. What was he after?
“What’s the plan then?” Cady asked, drawing him out of his reverie. “We use me as bait and wait for him to show up?”
He hadn’t thought of it in quite those terms, but it was essentially correct. It wasn’t how he’d have chosen to phrase it, despite the lack of fear she displayed in laying it out. “I won’t let him hurt you, but you should keep your window locked at night, especially when your brother isn’t home.”
“In this heat, are you nuts?” She stared at him incredulously, but he didn’t waver.
“Anyone could come in here, not just our guy. Especially with this thing right outside your window.” His knuckles rapped on the metal grate.
“Oh come on, you can’t even reach the ladder from the street level. Besides, why should I worry when I have you here to protect me?” She dazzled him with her smile, and it took Ethan a few moments to come up with the hard truth.
“I won’t always be here for you.”
“Then I guess I won’t always be safe,” she shrugged. “That’s life though. Nothing is safe, you just have to live your life the best you can with the cards you’re dealt. I could be attacked in my apartment or I could get mugged on the street tomorrow. What about you? Who keeps you safe?” Cady reached out, two fingers tracing one of his tattoos as it curved up the inside of his forearm. How she saw them at all still confounded him. Ethan held very still, the gentle touch a torture.
“I do,” he admitted solemnly.
“But who takes care of you?”
“I can take care of myself.”
“Sounds awful lonely.” Her touch migrated up the curve of his bicep.
Maddening.
“It can be.” His gaze fell to her beckoning lips, feeling the inexorable pull to taste them again. Without consciously making the decision to move, his head dipped closer and the light from the dying sun caught the glare of her mirror, temporarily blinding him.
The mirror.
Things started to click into place. Why the subject had gone for days without killing, why he kept seeing visions of Cady in innocuous places. The demon was stalking her from the dream world, stealing part of her soul while she slept. Though why… that still eluded him.
“What’s the matter?” Cady prompted, and he realized he’d been staring at the mirror intently. Mouthing a string of expletives under his breath, he slipped past her into the room. She’d been unprotected the entire time because he hadn’t thought to warn her.
“Come on in,” she muttered dryly, but Ethan ignored the tone.
“You should keep this covered at night.” Catching up a towel hanging from the end of her bed, he tossed it over the mirror.
“Why?”
“It’s safer that way. I have to go.” He slipped past her, before the inevitable questions surfaced.
“Hey, you’re not going back out the window again, are you?”
“I was planning on it, why?”
She ducked past him to look out the window. “Why not go out the front door?”
“It’s not that big of a deal.” He could manage a five story drop in any case. It would hurt, but he’d survive it.
“Yeah, not if you’re Spiderman. Just… humor me and go out the regular way, okay? It’s the least you can do for me after all the weird things you keep asking me to do.”
She had him there. “Alright. But promise me you’ll keep the towel over the mirror then, at least for tonight. The one in the bathroom too.”
“Sure, I guess,” she replied, and he could tell she was trying to decide if he was serious.
“Trust me, you’ll sleep better for it.” Ethan ducked out of the bedroom before she could ask him anything else.
“Oooh-kay.” Cady followed after him, lingering by the door as he opened his. “Hey, Ethan…?”
“Yes?”
“You’ll make sure he doesn’t get me, right?” The touch of insecurity in her voice let him know she wasn’t nearly as fearless as she let on, and he nodded, meeting her gaze squarely.
“I’ll keep you safe. I promise.”
* * *
After nightfall, when he guessed she’d be asleep, Ethan came back to her window. He inscribed the protective sigils on all four corners of the window sill, imbuing them with words of power. It wasn’t perfect, Q could still get into the apartment from one of the other windows, but it seemed likely he would try the window above the fire escape first.
Watching her sleep for as long as he dared, he slipped down into the alley to wait.
Chapter Nineteen
Frustration.
Less than pleased with how the abysmal meeting had gone, Asherik retreated to the realm of dreams. Waiting. Waiting. Why didn’t she come?
His world had become the sweet sound of her laughter, the proud curve of her neck, the radiance in her cheeks when he showed her something new. Asherik lived for the moments when she looked on him not in terror, but eyes glowing with what he knew must be love. She consumed his every thought, hardly remembering to care for the body he squatted in, in the real world.
Bathed in that love, he thought only of her happiness, doing everything within his power to bring it to her when she joined him each night. She’d built him into a new man, made over his soul just as she’d formed the body in her mind’s eye, and he wanted to be that man with every fiber of his being.
The urge to rend and tear faded, replaced by something new. Something remarkable. Something he never knew existed.
Why didn’t she come?
She’d seemed distracted the last couple of nights, the dreams ending abruptly as the real world intruded with shrieking alarms, robbing him of his lingering kisses. But Ash took comfort in the knowledge that she’d soon be his again.
Only… it wasn’t enough.
His thirst for her was all consuming. He wanted to hold her in his arms, to taste the earthly delights of the flesh. More than that, he wanted her to know him. Know what he was, and accept him, in every way. It had driven him out of the shadows, to seek her out in the sunlight that she cherished, to see her with human eyes.
He found her just as appealing, despite the dark smudges under her eyes (the effects of his appetites, to his deep regret). Ash could have stood drinking in her beauty for hours, but something compelled him to speak to her. To make her see him in the body he’d chosen, knowing her desires.
Of course, it was a disaster.
In all his years Asherik had never had to woo a woman before. He’d only to catch their gaze and any woman fell into a swoon at his feet. Every woman but the one he wanted most. Or was that why he wanted her so badly? Even with the hours spent talking to her in the dream world, the words had failed him as he stood humbled by her allure.
It occurred to him hours later why he’d botched it. He’d failed to mention the most important thing in his awkward attempt at conversation. He’d failed to speak of his love. For Asherik was convinced that he loved her.
Why didn’t she come?
It was long past the time when she usually sought her bed, and yet he could not reach her. The thought that he might not get to see her was unbearable. His fist lashed out, pulverizing the wall b
eside him in a shower of dust. Ash stared at the blood welling over the torn knuckles, feeling no pain. What fragile creatures humans were. He caught up a small cloth, understanding that he must stop the blood in order to heal. In just a few minutes the skin knit together, red and raw, but healing swiftly.
Why didn’t she come?
He had to see her. Asherik was moving almost before the idea became fully formed in his mind. He’d make her understand this time. He’d make her see him as he was.
On silent feet he scaled the metal contraption clinging to the building, pausing outside her window as an unaccustomed feeling seized his belly.
He was nervous.
Ash took a few extra moments to marshal his thoughts, intent on not wasting his words this time. When he was ready, he reached for the window sill only to be stopped mid-air. Though the window was clearly open, some unseen force kept his hand from going any further. His brows drew together into a single dark line as he poked and prodded the invisible barrier, trying to find the edge of it. In a fit of frustration, he lashed out and felt the newly healed skin break open again as his knuckles met the protective wall.
She lay sleeping within, maddeningly close, yet impossibly far for all intents and purposes. Ash drew a measure of peace from watching the rise and fall of her breast, taking some time to consider his options. He could call to her, and perhaps she would come to him. The brick walls felt mundane enough, he could break his way through to her, but likely that would frighten her. Neither option held appeal, and he decided to try her door. The better to cut off her escape route should she try to flee.
The decision made, he descended the stairs two at a time, easily jumping to the ground from the last landing. So intent was he on his prize, that the sudden appearance of the hilt protruding from his belly drew only puzzlement, until he felt the bite of the corrupted blade, drawing his power. Panic flared as he struggled to move before it was too late, but the reaper appeared much too quickly.
There was no triumph in his cold, blue eyes, only a deadly determination as he grabbed Ash’s arm, grasping his hand firmly in his. Ash knew what came next, and flinched as the obsidian blade pierced both their hands, joining them together, flesh to flesh. He didn’t have much time. Even as the reaper began to perform the binding ritual, Ash moved his hand an inch, and another. Flecks of foam gathered at the corners of his mouth as he struggled to raise his weapon. He’d come prepared this time.
