Ruined

by Jus Accardo

  That everything I was doing was to keep her safe…

  We were approaching the danger zone. The demon, restless and itching for the surface, pushed harder. It flashed a succession of images, all variations of Sam, naked beneath me and moaning my name. Breath ragged, I grabbed her arms and pinned them above her head.

  “Oh my—” Her voice cut off as she arched violently into me, ending in a desperate whimper that almost made me come right then and there. The fire blazed between us, raw and dangerous, and it was only when my fingers moved to slip beneath her skirt and remove the satiny barrier between us that I was able to stop and pull away.

  The ache that had plagued me for the better part of the day was quickly building toward blinding pressure. Pressure that would only be released by feeding the demon. I needed more than the tiny bits of the anger, lust, and sadness I’d pulled from her. I needed something bigger. Something darker.

  Sam stared. From the thick mist of orange lust swirling around her head and shoulders, it seemed like she’d push forward again, but to my relief—and disappointment—she didn’t. The spark in her eyes dimmed, and she moved sideways along the wall and toward the door, breath coming in jagged, uneven pulls.

  When she spoke, her voice was low and sad. The anger was gone, replaced by nothing short of devastation. Despite the fact that we’d both wanted it, that kiss had been a mistake. As big a mistake as the one in the woods three years ago. “Now that was a good-bye.”

  Fuck. I’d come out here to get closer to finding out who was trying to run her down, and instead I’d driven the space between us wider.

  “Have a nice life, Jax.” She slipped back into the club, and even though every instinct screamed for me to follow, the thing inside prevented it. I was on fire. The demon’s need left me an exposed nerve, raw and bleeding. Taking from her had only further ignited the monster’s hunger. If I didn’t feed it something violent soon, it would take matters into its own hands. Or, rather, my hands.

  I stumbled around the back corner of the building. Kissing Sam made the demon hungrier. My elation at being so close to her was a drain on the thing. I’d known better, and yet I’d done it anyway. Now someone else had to pay the price. Violence. The demon would take what it needed from some poor bastard and leave me stuffing back the guilt.

  Sucking in a breath, I held it, trying to zero in on the strongest source of emotion. There was a banquet of lust and greed in the area, still lingering around the club, but something else caught my attention. A sweet scent that made the demon go wild with anticipation. It was coming from the east side of the building.

  Twelve feet. Nine feet. Six. Four…

  In the alley around the club, two men stood over another. The one on the ground was curled in a ball, unmoving, as his attackers kicked him and laughed. The demon rumbled, flashing nondescript images of blood and gore. This was the part I hated. It was also the part that the sickest side of me loved. Letting the hunger propel me, I started down the alley.

  “What the fuck do you want, man?” the taller of the two snapped as I approached. The man squared his shoulders and puffed out his chest in an attempt to scare me off. Silly human. Arrogance rolled off the man in thick yellow waves. They mingled with the crimson ones, swirling together just above his head in an intoxicating combination that had the demon inside going crazy.

  “This ain’t your concern. Move it along,” the other snapped. He, at least, had the intelligence to back away. The waves wafting from him were gray in color and reeked of fear.

  I stopped a few feet away. The demon’s excitement hummed through my body as it flashed another image. Bloody and broken men.

  Satisfaction—and a temporary peace—was within my grasp, but a sound shattered my concentration, forcing me to stop shy of following through. A far-off noise. The softest whisper of a plea for help. Sam.

  I whirled around toward the club and held my breath, listening for the direction it’d come from. She was nowhere near the building; the sound echoed north slightly. The woods. She was in the woods.

  The prey, so close at hand, was forgotten. The noise my boots made as they pounded the asphalt echoed like a bullhorn inside my head. Back around the building. Through the parking lot and across the street. A horn blared, bright lights zooming toward me. I jumped, kicking my feet up and pivoting so that my hip skimmed the hood. I landed gracefully on the other side, clearing traffic, as another sound came, this one from deeper in the woods. A single name called in desperation.

  My name.

  I followed the sound she made, stomping through the branches and dead leaves, and caught up to her as she changed direction, moving toward the cliffs. The wind kicked up, carrying the unexpected scent of sulfur. Demons? Two of them. And Sam.

  One turned, wearing the guise of a tall man, letting go of her and stepping into my path, as the other continued. Blinded by anger, I collided with the other demon, sending us both careering into a nearby pine. We crashed into the trunk with jarring force.

  I recovered, backing away as the other demon did the same. Stocky with a buzz cut, its individual smell was more potent than others I’d come across. More vile. It coated the back of my throat like foul syrup, nearly kicking in my gag reflex.

  It smiled and snapped its teeth. In a voice that held the slightest rasp, it said, “Pathetic thing. You don’t possess the strength to take what’s not yours.”

  The demon inside me scrambled with nearly blinding force to take control, and it was only as I lunged forward, aiming for the enemy’s neck, that it calmed a little. Normally I would have dragged it out, let the thing inside savor the violence, but there was no time to lose. A quick jab, and the other demon clutched its throat and went down hard, sputtering and gasping for air. I didn’t wait to finish it off.

  The other one—also a demon from the smell of it—was just approaching the cliff with Sam when I caught up to them. The blond’s voice was cold and his eyes dead. “Turn around and walk back the way you came.”

  “Jax…?” Sam’s voice didn’t wobble. She didn’t cower or cry. She was scared. Terrified. I could see my own emotion too, crimson rage leaking all around, calling to the demon. It bled into the air, haze drifting around my head like a miasma.

  The demon moved. A twitch, really. But it was enough to spur me into action. Pushing forward, I sprinted toward them. Toward the edge of the cliff.

  I was a foot away when the other demon brought its elbow back. It connected with Sam’s shoulder, sending her off balance.

  She tumbled over the edge.

  I jumped.

  Chapter Ten

  Sam

  I saw Jax surge forward just before the entire world tipped backward and the solid ground beneath my feet disappeared. A valiant, although pointless, last-ditch effort to save me. My heartbeat thundered as I braced myself for the inevitable, taking comfort that there was little chance I’d drown in the waters below. The jagged edge of the cliff would get me long before I reached the bottom, breaking my body like a child’s toy.

  A scream caught in my throat. The impact came—but there was no pain. One second I was watching the ground zoom steadily closer, icy wind biting at my exposed skin, the next everything shifted and I was staring up at the sky through a mass of tangled hair. Warm, solid arms enveloped me and a familiar scent—mint and leather—filled my nose as I plummeted.

  “It’s going to be all right.”

  It was going to be all right? Jax? A new kind of panic exploded in my chest. I’d seen him jump forward, but never imagined—

  “Deep breath,” he yelled over the sound of the wind whipping past us.

  Numb, I obeyed, and sucked in a lungful of cold air.

  The noise was like a car backfiring. One second the clear night sky loomed overhead, the next everything had a filmy sheen. Jax took the brunt of the impact, but I still felt the jar and the sting of the icy water. Disoriented, I flailed, kicking hard in hopes of breaking the surface. Air. Can’t breathe! Every muscle stung. From
the frigid temperature or the impact, I didn’t know. Didn’t care, either. All that mattered was air. Precious, glorious, necessary air.

  But as hard as I kicked and as much as I flailed, my head couldn’t find the surface. The burning in my chest became too much, and instinctually, I opened her mouth to suck in a lungful of air. Of course, I got water instead.

  Everything grew dark. I was vaguely aware that I’d stopped kicking. My brain raged at my body as the pounding of my heart throbbed in every limb, and echoed in my ears. Fight!

  It was too late. The darkness closed around me.

  I was dead.

  Taking a deep breath, I cringed. Okay, not dead. Death wasn’t supposed to be painful. Or cold. Struggling onto my knees, I braced both hands against the dew-wet grass as a series of body-racking coughs tore from my throat. I was sore and soaked and freezing—but I was alive…despite someone’s increasingly enthusiastic efforts to change that.

  As reality crept back, I found myself getting number. I went over the cliff just as Jax—

  Jax.

  It wasn’t my imagination. He’d jumped, too. Wrapped himself around me, making sure he hit the water first. Frantic, I whirled around and scanned the area, sure I’d find him floating facedown in the water. But other than an occasional ripple from the increasing breeze, the surface of the water was still—and empty.

  A knot formed in my chest as I squinted against the darkness, trying to see across to the other bank. He must have pulled himself from the water farther down. There was no need to panic just because I didn’t see him. That didn’t mean… A shiver ran through me. Something rustled and I jumped, whirling around fast enough to make myself dizzy.

  Jax. He was crouched against a nearby tree.

  I stumbled to my feet, almost toppling over as the heels of my boots sank into the soft earth. My legs felt rubbery, and the jolt of adrenaline that had kicked in during the fall still lingered, making every movement feel twitchy and sharp. “Jax, how—”

  That was as far as I got. A low rumble filled the air and he drew himself up. Dark hair fell across his forehead, the strands dripping.

  Jax let out a roar that was nothing short of animal. I jumped at the sound, about to take a step away, and noticed a dark smear across the side of his face. Blood. I reached out, but he flinched and the hair in his face fluttered back.

  Time stopped. Something hazy nipped at my subconscious, drawing attention to his eyes. As the moon peeked out from behind the clouds, I got a good look at his face and gasped. His eyes, no longer the comforting gray I loved, were black. Solid black. No. It just looked that way. A trick played in the absence of light. “Jax?” I tried again.

  He stepped away from the tree, head tilting to the left. Then, the right. No answer.

  “Please,” I begged. “Are you all right?”

  Nothing. The silence was driving me crazy, and as he started toward me, I had to force myself to stand still. This was Jax, but for some reason, a little voice inside my head was telling me to run.

  He stopped in front of me, so close, and in a deeper than normal voice, said, “Samantha Merrick.”

  My full name. “Jax, you’re scaring me.” I pointed at the rocks. “What just happened—we—”

  “You are a strange creature.” He ran a finger across my cheek, letting it linger at the corner of my mouth. “Your place in his life confounds me.”

  Creature? “My place in whose life?” I backed away a step, half expecting him to follow. He didn’t. “What are you talking about?”

  No answer.

  That was my breaking point. He’d obviously gone into some kind of shock. I tried to grab his hand, but he jerked away. “NO!” A harsh, angry sound filled the air, and he jumped forward, knocking me hard to the ground. When I turned back, he was gone.

  I started walking. The wind kicked up and the breeze against my still-damp skin made me shiver. I was numb and in need of hot coffee and a place to curl up and pretend this past month had never happened. Was one of the men who pushed me from the cliff tonight the same one who attacked me on campus? I was lucky Jax had been there…

  He’d saved my life again. This time by jumping from the cliff and somehow shielding me from the fall. He must have dragged my sorry, waterlogged ass from the river as well. Then he snarled and ran away.

  Snarled? Really?

  Jax could explain away the car with fact. I’d done some research. Once the car filled with water, it would have been easier to get out

  But the fall? How had he done it? There was no way to brush it aside. He’d taken the brunt of what’d been, essentially, a thirty-foot nosedive, and walked away?

  Run away, actually.

  That was impossible. He should be dead. We both should. And then there was the way he acted after I woke up. The animal-like growl. The odd words. The way he’d pushed me to the ground hard enough to knock a tooth loose?

  He’d already admitted that there was something he couldn’t—wouldn’t—tell me. I had a feeling it had to do with why he’d left home, as well as how he was able to save me twice from situations no one should have survived. He was hiding something, and I intended to find out what it was.

  After trekking through the woods, soaking wet and freezing, I finally managed to make it back to town. My keys were gone. I’d been clutching them when the men grabbed me on the way to the car, and must have dropped them somewhere along the way. I tried retracing my steps, but gave up. There was no way in hell I was trekking back to that cliff, and the chances of seeing anything in the dark, even with a full moon, were slim. I might have been able to use my cell as a flashlight, but that was gone, too. Probably at the bottom of the river with the fish. It made calling for a ride impossible. That left no other choice but to walk. Through the woods. At night. After being pushed from a cliff to my death.

  I was having a really shitty week.

  A horn honked, pulling me from the crazy sludge that was my thoughts. I’d hit a pay phone and called Chase to pick me up two blocks from the club. I’d been careful, passing by the lot to check on Jax’s car. It was still there, parked a few spots down from the rental, so wherever he’d run off to, it’d been on foot.

  “Um,” Chase’s eyes skimmed my body from top to bottom as I pulled open the car door. “Do I want to ask why you look like a sexy drowned rat?”

  I wrung out the edge of my skirt before sliding into the passenger’s seat. We hadn’t been alone since he’d kissed me at McCarthy’s and I was feeling a little awkward despite the fact that I knew the whole thing had been staged, but I couldn’t help feeling a bit used.

  “I lost my damn keys at the club.” I shrugged and gestured to my wet clothes. “And this… Would you believe a sudden downpour?”

  He shook his head and pulled away from the curb once the door was closed. Four blocks later, he spoke again. “I thought tonight was your night off? And why are you dressed like that—not that I’m complaining.”

  “Theme night,” I said with a weary sigh, and fastened the seat belt. People thought I drove fast, but anyone who’d ever been in a car with Chase would surely dub me the queen of safety. Heedless of speed limits and stop signs, he had more traffic infractions than I could count. It blew my mind that he still had a license.

  “Well, I like theme night.” He waggled his brows and pulled the car into a spot at the front of my building. When I didn’t respond, he frowned and shifted around to face me. “You okay, Samantha?”

  My hand hovered over the door handle. The words formed, and slipped to the tip of my tongue, but I couldn’t force them past my lips.

  If I confessed what happened at the cliff, Chase would tell me I imagined the whole incident and was suffering from some weird kind of post-traumatic stress thing. No. This was something best kept to myself for now. “Yeah,” I said, forcing a smile. “Been a long day, that’s all.”

  I made a move to open the door, but he grabbed my hand. “I’m really worried about you.” The look in his eyes made my breat
h catch. A fierce seriousness that almost bordered on possessive. But it was there and gone too fast to be sure. “If you get yourself killed, how will I see if we’re compatible?”

  Thankfully, serious never lasted long with Chase.

  He leaned forward like he was going to kiss me. I threw up my hands. “No way. Don’t go there.” I pulled away and swung my foot from the car.

  Chase fell back against the seat, frowning. “Stop.” He sighed. “Please.”

  I don’t know why, but I did. Maybe it was his tone. Three parts apologetic and one part commanding.

  “You’re seriously bludgeoning my ego here.” His lips slipped into a grin. “Usually I’m fairly irresistible. I’m even thinking about having my tongue insured.”

  I didn’t know whether to be upset or angry. “Where is this coming from? That kiss at the diner was a joke. For Jax’s benefit. Right…?”

  “It’s my brother, isn’t it?” Something dark settled on his face and he narrowed his eyes. One of the biggest differences between the Flynn boys was temperament. Jax was always dark and sarcastic. Chase, on the other hand, bounced back and forth on the tip of a pin. One second he was laughing, the next he was spitting poison. I was used to it, but it still unnerved me sometimes.

  I wanted to deny it, but the words stuck in my throat. Why did he even need to ask? He watched us growing up. A thing like that didn’t just go away. It was sad, and probably a little pathetic, but if even if Jax never came around, he’d always be the one.

  Chase sighed and pounded a fist against the dash as some of the tension left his body. “I’m not into you. Not really.” He threw up his hands. “Not that you’re not amazing or anything. I just—I know you and Jax have some pretty intense, screwed-up history. I thought maybe…” He twisted back so he was staring out the window. His right hand tapped the wheel to an uneven rhythm as he let his head tilt back against the seat. “I hate myself—like, really hate myself—for saying this, but he’s got…problems. I’ve seen firsthand what he’s capable of when he’s angry. It’s not pretty.”