“You saw my sister call up our mom’s spirit?” I ask.
She scoffs. “Oh, man, I wish that’s what I’d seen. She tried to raise your mom’s spirit, but she raised this demon instead. She seemed surprised, but she also seemed to recognize it. She kept talking to it about something or someone called Heart-Keeper, and it must’ve been one badass spell ’cause stuff was flying around your sister in circles, sand and bits of rock and wax and stuff, spinning around the pentagram. Her voice turned deep and strange and then this gross smell came, like, really strong.
“Lester was sitting on the other side of her circle, and she’d killed some other poor creature and painted his palms in its blood. According to your mom’s witchy book, the blood acted like an open door. Of course, Lester started talking in this freaky voice. Ava asked the spirit about her mom—your mom—and the thing told her there’d been a deal his boss made with your mom. Ava seemed really pissed off when it was all done telling the story.”
The deal. Ava knows now what it was. From what Holly’s saying, it doesn’t seem like she was able to accept it very well. “What did he say?”
“About the deal?” Holly looks to the side like she’s trying to remember. “It was something about your mom wanting to see her lost love one more time and how she bargained her body for it, or something. Like, she became some demon’s whore is what it sounded like—and all these demons and angels paid this Heart-Keeper so they could have sex with her—”
“Angels?” My stomach churns. “What do you mean? Did she—”
“I don’t know!” Holly barks. “God. I was too busy being freaked out by Lester being a puppet and how everything was floating around.”
Oh, God. One of those bastards my mother slept with is Ava’s father, and they were both angels and demons. But which one created my sister?
Kara must be thinking along the same line, because she says, “Like Sid was talking about: Nephilim or . . .”
Or demon spawn.
I still have no idea which is worse; it seems like being the daughter of an angel instead of a demon would be better, but any angel that would sink to having sex with a woman who’s been slaved out to some demon can’t be very pure of soul. I try to recall something about the men who would come to her—their faces, their smells—but my stomach clenches just thinking about it. How could I not have seen what they were? I should’ve seen through their illusions. Could my mom have done something to me to keep me from seeing right?
“But Lester didn’t just channel the demon,” Kara says. “It’s inside of him now.”
Holly shrugs. “I totally would’ve said something if I’d thought that could happen. I had no idea that something was up. I thought it was weird that he’d buy us all movie tickets, but I think that was Lester trying to keep us safe from what he knew might be hanging out inside him.”
The demon must’ve been hunkered down, waiting for the right moment. “Do you remember Ava talking to the demon about a deal that she wanted to make?”
Holly sits down on the bed and falls back. “So all I know for sure now is that this Heart-Keeper demon definitely wants your sister—because of the deal it made with your mom—and that the thing’s minion inside Lester then made a deal with Ava for you to be safe as long as she came back to the cave on the dark moon. Then Ava could do some kind of rebirthing thing. It was all very cousin’s brother’s uncle to me, so I don’t know.”
Be reborn. Just like Demon Lester said to the Boss Demon when he was warning it about Ava’s potential: that she wasn’t reborn yet. That’s going to happen tomorrow night at the dark of the moon, on Ava’s birthday.
“He said they would do the rebirth at the cave?” Hope filters into me, a thin thread.
“Uh-oh,” Holly says. “Not a fan of that look.”
“What is it, Aidan?” Kara asks, scooting to the edge of the bed.
“I think I can save her.” As the words emerge, they feel true. I can still save her.
“Excuse me?” Holly asks, looking suddenly worried.
“But, Aidan—” Kara starts.
I won’t let her finish. “I can’t let them take her if I have the power to stop it—if I still have time.”
“She chose that path, Aidan,” Kara says, a frantic tone growing in her voice. “We all make choices.”
I shake my head. “If she did this to save me, it’s my choice, too.”
“She did it to find her mom,” Holly says. “Saving you was just part of the deal.”
“I don’t care,” I say, rising to my feet. “I can’t just stand by and let this happen.”
“Not smart,” Holly says. “But it’s your funeral.”
FORTY-FOUR
Kara chases after me as I leave the room. “Aidan, please, think about this.”
“If there’s still a chance to save her, I have to take it.”
She catches up to me as I stop in front of Sid’s door. There’s no way I’m sleeping in a room with any of the other boys. I need to be alone.
“They’ll kill you!”
I slip the key card in, and the latch clicks. I open the door. “That doesn’t matter anymore.” I walk into the dark room and toss the key on the TV table.
She comes at me, letting the door slam behind her. “Doesn’t matter? Are you kidding me?”
“I promised my mom that I would protect her!” It turns out that I was supposed to protect Ava from what was inside her heart more than what was chasing after her, but that doesn’t change my commitment to my promise.
“And how about what you said out there in the street, huh?” she says. “I need you, Kara—what the hell was that?” Her voice cracks, but her expression is all fire and indignation.
I move closer. “Kara—”
She glares at me and steps back. “Don’t you dare act like you can have it both ways. I’m a part of this now too, you know. Whatever happened between us, it’s done something to me. And you’re ready to just die—to rip my heart from my chest on a hope!” She chokes on her words and then releases a bitter laugh.
“God,” she says, “I wish I’d never met you—do you know how many times I’ve thought that? And you know why? Because I know how this will end. This thing”—she motions to the air between us—“will disappear once we’ve had sex and gotten it over with. Everything you felt for me will evaporate.”
My throat goes tight. “That’s not fair.” I do want her. And I know it’s not just because of the spell, but she obviously won’t believe me no matter what I say.
“Life isn’t fair,” she says, tears in her eyes now. “Believe me, I’m an expert at how unfair life is.” Her chest rises and falls, her sadness, her defeat, leaking from her like weighty mist.
And then she reaches down and pulls her shirt over her head.
I blink at her bare skin, her bra, confused.
She unbuttons and unzips her jeans, starts to peel them down her legs—
“Whoa, what’re you doing?” My confusion turns to panic, even as my body reacts to her standing there in her underwear: pink cotton panties and a green lace bra.
“I’m getting this over with,” she says.
“Kara, holy shit,” I say, stepping away as she moves forward, determination on her face.
She takes me by the waist of my jeans. “Come on, Aidan. Soldier up.” Then she tries to pull my shirt over my head, but I won’t raise my arms, so she moves down to my jeans again.
I whack her hand away. “Stop! What’s wrong with you?” The girl’s lost it entirely.
“It’ll be over quick, I promise.” She gives me a tight smile as she tries to unbutton my fly.
“Kara, please, this isn’t right.”
“I know. That’s what makes it so much fun.”
She reaches into my pants.
I jump back with a hiss of breath. “Stop it!” That was r
eally not fair.
She releases a nervous giggle, then moves closer again. “Well, that part of you seems happy with the idea.”
I’m trying to back away, but I hit the wall. She presses herself against me and kisses me full on the mouth. Hot and unholy.
My breath catches, and my body reacts before I can stop it; my hands grab her, pulling her into me, fingers sliding down to her waist to grip her as she moans into my mouth.
The feel of her hits me strong, and I know I’m tumbling down, giving in, but suddenly I don’t care. I kiss her harder, trying to pour out my urgency, to rid myself of this rabid need, as her limbs cling to me, hands under my shirt, against my skin. I grab her hips and lift her up as I move to the bed and set her on it, pulling my shirt over my head, crawling over her, kissing her deeper, pressing her into the mattress. I touch her everywhere, trying to get more of her skin on mine.
My fingers find her bra, tug at it, needing to feel her, all of her. But I can’t break the connection, I can’t let go. I might stop breathing.
She slips the bra strap off for me and shivers, a tinge of fear leaking into my skin giving her away. But she doesn’t release me or pause, so I press closer and let my stomach touch hers. I wrap my hand around the back of her head, caressing her neck, and she melts again as we kiss and gasp and fall back into the oblivion of it all, the white fire of the connection, the blinding need we have for each other.
She tries to push my pants down, but I don’t want to go there yet. I shift out of reach, kissing her neck, her chest, her shoulders; I don’t want this to be over quick. And I know that as soon as her body and mine meet, it’ll be finished. I kiss my way down her body, her breasts, her belly. But as I go lower, she pulls me up, back to her lips.
Then she reaches down my pants again.
I pull back.
And that’s when I see her eyes. Glistening with tears.
“Please, Aidan,” she says, her voice full of emotion.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, hearing the impatience in my voice and wishing I didn’t.
“I just need you to take me. We can’t draw this out.”
Is she talking about sex or ripping off a Band-Aid?
“You’re really into this, I see.” Now my irritation is impossible to hide. How did I not notice her emotions? I wish I could shut my hormones off for ten minutes so I could not be an ass about this, but it’s like I have no control over any of it.
A tear slips down her cheek, and my stomach clenches.
“It’s fine.” She touches my bicep, but I feel her fingers shiver.
I roll onto the bed beside her. I stare at the ceiling, wishing it had a map on it that explained the female psyche. “You started it, you know.”
“I know, because I want this. I do.”
“You sure have a weird way of showing it.”
She rolls toward me, laying her head on my chest, curling against my side. “I want you so bad, Aidan. But it’s like the scars inside me won’t let me just take what I want.”
Cold awareness falls over me. How could I forget, even for a second? Now I definitely feel like an ass. I bring her closer, her skin warm against mine. The hum from our connection is like a bee in my head, distracting me.
“I’m sorry,” I say.
She kisses my chest. “I know. I thought if we just dove into the pool . . .”
“You mean the frozen lake?”
She laughs softly. “Something like that.”
I turn my head and put my lips to her hair. “I think we both knew this is how it would be.”
“I want so badly to be someone else for you,” she says. “Someone less broken.”
“Kara, you’re the one I want.”
“But you need someone strong. You need power to save your sister.”
“I wish that you could see what I see inside of you. You are strong. But it should’ve never been your job to fix this. That was put on you for all the wrong reasons.” I close my eyes, trying to wrap my head around what comes next and decide if I’m willing to drag her in even further. “I would be trying to save Ava either way. You know that.” I need to be there at the end of it all. I need to see the final moment when our hope dies, or I’ll never be able to rest.
“But you’ll be so vulnerable.” She runs her fingers along my torso.
I lean closer and take her lips with mine, but I pull away when the fire sparks for a second, not wanting it to control me again. Then I fold her hand in mine and kiss her fingertips. “Let’s just lie here. I want to enjoy this.” I squeeze her into my chest. “You fit so perfectly against me.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispers.
I run my palm over her soft hair. “I’m not.”
It’s quiet for a second, until she says, “You’re a pretty good kisser, you know that? You gave me Jell-O legs.”
I can’t help but grin. “Really?”
“You must practice a lot. It was like Olympic-training good.”
“Well, since it’s all I’ve ever done . . .”
She goes still for a second, then rises up to look at me. “What?”
“I’m a virgin, Kara.”
She covers her grin with her hand. “Ohmygod.”
“Howl it up, Chuckles. I had you fooled. You thought I was a player.”
She laughs again and rests her head back on my chest. “Amazing. You’re like a rare fossil.”
“That’s me. The last of my kind.”
“And to think I could’ve been the first.” She kisses my chest again. “I would’ve felt so special.”
“You are. You’re mine.” I kiss her temple, and we lie in silence, melting into each other, and then somehow we begin telling stories of what we wish our lives could’ve been until we’re kissing again, touching each other gently, resting in the space we’ve created, just the two of us. And when we feel the urgency grow, we both stop and pull the covers around us, snuggling.
She lets me touch the scars on her arms, telling me about the night she put them there. I hold her wrists, running my thumbs across the old wounds, and tell her how glad I am that she failed, how alive she made me feel that night when she kissed me after the party, and how I wish she could look inside me and feel it, too.
I decide to peel back more of my own wounds, the pieces of me I never show to anyone. Ever. But somehow I know that it’s her I’m supposed to tell. I let the whole story come, about my mom, about the things Fiona did and how they terrified me, how her sadness was like an infection. About the night when everything turned to blood as the spell was worked and the wolflike demon marked Ava and grabbed my mom by the throat before it ripped her heart from her chest. That was the moment my life became night, the moment death’s shadow became my constant companion, the moment I became a man.
Kara grips me tight, shivering.
Then silence falls. Both of us are lost in our own thoughts. I lose track of time and place as I think about the last few years and the next few. My life and my possible death.
Kara’s energy clings to me like a guard against the darkness. It’s protective and full of warmth. And as it sinks into my skin, I feel myself open up to it, as if she’s diving into me and me into her. And I’m at peace after everything; finally I’m in the right place, in the right moment, the home I’ve been searching for all this time. Love.
And I know, from this moment, I’ll never be the same again.
FORTY-FIVE
I wake up on fire.
I try to scream, but nothing comes. No air fills my lungs. Just heat and torment. I’m empty. I’m becoming ash.
“Aidan,” says a calm voice. I want to be calm; I want to escape these flames.
“Aidan, open your eyes.”
Through the pain, I hear that it’s a man’s voice. Familiar.
I manage to create a sound through the heat in
my throat. “Help.” But I can’t open my eyes. I’m scared I’ll see flesh melting from my bones and that my eyes will burn up.
“Yes, you can,” the voice says, reading my thoughts. “You only have to try. Just for a moment. The pain is only in your mind, Aidan. Breathe. Just breathe.”
I struggle, wondering if the voice is right, if the fire isn’t real. But how can this torment that’s tearing me to pieces only be in my imagination?
“It’s the purification,” the voice says, “but it’s passing through you now that you’re not a part of the process any longer. You can breathe. I promise you.”
I try to push the flames away. I try to take a breath. In and out and in. I breathe.
I find air for my lungs that doesn’t singe or taste like ash. A few more breaths and the pain fades, settling to a dull ache. My eyes squint open. No fire. No ice. I’m in a hotel room. The air still.
And the memory comes back to me in a rush: Kara taking her clothes off, kissing me . . .
“You’ve been awakened,” the voice says.
I turn toward it—
“Eric,” I say.
What the hell is Eric doing in my room?
“I’m here to lead you through the awakening,” he says, reading my thoughts again. His usual expensive suit is now a plain shirt made of rough, off-white material and a pair of brown pants. His hair is several shades lighter, almost gold, and a little longer. His skin is white, and his face is scruffy from several days without a shave. There’s a scar on his jaw, running down his neck, and what appear to be burn marks on his chest at the opening of his shirt. He looks like someone from a long time ago.
I just saw him a few hours ago when we checked into the hotel, and he didn’t look at all like this. “But . . .”
“You’ve allowed the key to connect. You are returning to Origin, becoming the Bringer of Fire.”
Darkness Brutal (The Dark Cycle Book 1) Page 32
