“You know I can’t.”
“Do I?” Damen shoved open the door.
I walked into the room, but Damen hadn’t let go of my hand. “Happy birthday, Cherub.” He brought my hand to his lips. I shuddered. When he released me, a silver and gold bracelet with tiny chipped diamonds appeared around my wrist.
18
For days, none of us saw Damen. I dined alone, and Agatha shared tea with me in the mornings. Each day we partook of a piece of the sweet honey cake she baked for my birthday. You would have thought she baked for a large party rather than the two of us, there was so much cake. I didn’t complain. I had quickly become addicted to the sweet cake, but with each passing day, I was reminded by the dark thread around my heart that my time here was running out.
I couldn’t be sure, but Marisol’s wedding was days away. It was like a clock ticking against my heart, and the dark thread was the timekeeper. I’d been trying to think about how to approach this for the past day. There was no other way around it. I dared ask about Damen. It wasn’t my business where he had been. It was my business trying to get close to him.
A part of me was a fool to recognize how much I missed him. I shouldn’t, and somehow I thought I’d revealed something unintentionally. It was this dark thread, it spied on my emotions and fed them to Damen. Wherever he had gone, I hoped it was enough of a tug to move him to come back. But what was I thinking?
He was my kidnapper, and I was nothing more than his hostage, but I couldn’t help feeling the man avoided me on purpose. I’d touched something in him that made him afraid. “Good,” I whispered to the dark thread around my heart. “Be afraid.” And silently, I said, “Because I am.”
During the night, I woke from a strange sensation, as if at any moment Damen would walk out of the darkness into my room. I tried to tell myself this wasn’t healthy to have thoughts of him like this. Itwas the kiss. It had to be the kiss. I wanted it so badly. He was no sleeping beauty, but the blue rim around his black eyes gave me hope. This thinking of him, feelings growing for him, it would all go away with a kiss.
Or would it?
I tried not to roll my eyes. Every once in a while, one of my sisters would throw a thought in my head. It would drive me crazy eventually. If only they could tell me what to do.
You know what to do.
Kiss the darkness out of the man. Oh yeah, because I’d done that a hundred times. Not!
It was late in the evening when I heard his voice, and Agatha rose from the chair where she had taken to crocheting a delicate strand of lace. Jace stepped out of the den, where we had retired after dinner. I heard Agatha offer him a meal and he declined. The book I had been reading slipped from my hands as I waited for him to come inside, but he didn’t. Time went by, and I got up, waiting.
Minutes ticked by, and I moved closer to the doorway. Agatha had disappeared in the kitchen and Jace was gone. I should go to my room. A little voice whispered that it was my chance to sneak away. That little voice’s name was Hope. Before I could question it, the static in my mind cleared, and I had nothing to lose.
Agatha clucked as she lectured Jace in the kitchen. “You can’t let him go on like this. It’s time. This has gone too far.”
Jace grunted, and I heard a clatter of silverware. Jace spoke low. I couldn’t hear him, but I heard the rumble of his words. I spied the back door open to the pergola. While Jace and Agatha spoke, I slipped past them to go outside. Everything went quiet for a second and I paused halfway out the door, not realizing I held my breath until Agatha chided Jace, and I moved further away.
The pool was swirling, and I saw the boat rising. My heart raced. Damen was here, but he was leaving again? Why else would the boat rise? There wasn’t anyone in it. I stayed behind, still as a stone pillar, and hunched down for the boxwood shrubs to hide me.
Moments went by, and the boat sat, and the water rippled with a sheen of the water turned a glowing blue. Any minute Agatha or Jace would notice I wasn’t in the house. I couldn’t leave the grounds, not even in the pink slippers Agatha made for me. Or could I?
It made me wonder. Why did Agatha give me the slippers?
Damen strutted back outside, distracting me from whatever I’d been thinking. He’d changed into a pair of jeans and leather loafers. He had on a sweater, and I’d never seen him with that much shadow on his jaw. It sent a little quiver to my insides and I chided my heart for looking at him that way. I couldn’t help it. Not really. He was more attractive than I’d ever seen him. Curse my deceiving heart. I blamed it on the dark thread he had on me, and then he looked in my direction. I hurried and hid behind the bushes again.
There was something about the way he glanced around. Then he was in the boat, and it lowered. I pressed my hands to my heart as the pain radiated around it. It took my breath away. The strand tightened, harsh. I bit my lip not to cry out as Damen disappeared from view. It tugged me forward, and with each step, the pain eased. I rushed to the waters as they started to close and seal the portal.
In the house, Jace shouted, and I glanced back. He started running toward me. I had no clue where the portal went or if I could travel without the boat. This was my chance. What did I have to lose?
I jumped, expecting the waters to close around me, try to drown me. Not the world’s most excellent swimmer, I moved my arms and legs, waiting for the splash that never came. I fell and fell through a tunnel of swirling water. Above me, the water closed over. My heart pumped faster and I felt the thread had not only loosened but abandoned me. Maybe it knew the tunnel didn’t end, and part of me was starting to get really afraid of how this would end. I had to land somewhere, somehow. A scream trapped in my throat since the time I jumped. Pretty soon it would strangle me, but I had to hold it in.
Suddenly my world turned upside down. Seriously, and my stomach was the last part of my body to get on board with the flip. I lost the scream and what I had for supper as I smacked hard into a surface. I’d never belly-flopped, but if this was what it was, then I didn’t ever want to do it again. Slowly, water surrounded me, it washed up over me, and my limbs grew too heavy to move. I was going to drown.
This was how it was going to end. I tried to reach out to my sisters. I told them I loved them as the water filled my nose. I tried not to breathe and to keep my mouth shut. I submerged, and as I cast my last silent I love you, I found my thoughts on Damen. Something grabbed me and jerked me from the water. I spat and sputtered as hands wrapped around me, and I coughed. I whipped back my wet hair.
Damen was in my face, his expression darker than I’d ever seen it. He tossed me down, tilted my head, and pinched my nose. Before I could protest, his mouth locked on mine. Not the way I had planned it, but I’d take it. I thought of everything my waterlogged mind could conjure of joy and love and tried to propel it in my kiss. Except he wasn’t kissing me. Not really. He tried to breathe the life back inside me. That dark thread I felt dislodge worked its way back around my heart again. He was about to press his hands between my breasts when I grabbed them and held on to them with everything I had.
Shaky and weak, my fingers trembled to lock with his.
“What did you think you were doing?”
Okay, so maybe I made him a little mad.
“Did you really think you could escape me? You can’t!” Damen released me. Moving back, he stood over me.
I blinked and blinked and try to catch my breath. Damp to the bone, my hair was sure to spring out and frizz as the heat of his anger dried my hair and clothes. I scooted back and found myself against a wall. There were bright lights, and everything appeared an aged white.
Damen glared down at me, and I took a few extra moments to allow my lungs to work again.
“Is the luxury of staying at my home so unbearable you’d attempt to drown yourself?” His voice was less harsh. I peered up at him and saw the anger had been sucked from him, as had the usual pallor of his skin. He paled, and his eyes— more blue than black— had changed, but not quite the
whole way. More than before. That not-a-kiss, really was a kiss. Or at least enough that I was able to transfer a bit more love and joy into my dark-hearted man.
“A moment later, and you’d be dead!” His outburst sent a tremble of fear through me. Not my fear. His. Did Damen actually care if I lived or died?
A cold slice of a reminder around my heart brought me back to the reality of my situation. Damen wasn’t mine. He couldn’t ever be mine. We were from two different worlds, dark and light. His eyes were changing, but would the effects go far enough to touch his heart?
“I’m going to die anyway.”
His face turned grim. “Going to the abyss is far from death, my Joy.”
“Sending a being like myself made of light and love into an endless world of darkness will suck the life from me. It’s a slow death, but it’s death all the same. A long and torturous one. I have done nothing to you to deserve the sentencing of a man too stubborn to accept the things that can’t be changed.”
Damen’s eyes narrowed. His jaw twitched. Slowly, I found the strength to inch up the wall to my feet. My head spun with the motion, and my nose filled with the strong scents of antiseptic and bleach. My stomach grew queasy.
“Come with me.”
I shook my head, then stopped as my stomach cramped. I covered my hand over it, not sure I had anything left inside worth coming up. Not wanting to embarrass myself in Damen’s presence, I turned my head.
“You’re going to be sick, aren’t you?” Damen grabbed my arm. His fingers bit into my tender flesh as he yanked me to go down the hall. “Stop.”
His grip loosened, and it all came up and out and all over those expensive Italian loafers. One foot, then the other Damen lifted and shook. He pushed back my hair that had fallen forward around my face. A little late, but the expressed grimace of his face made me wince. From his back pocket, he pulled a handkerchief, and I used it to wipe my mouth.
“Better now?”
I started to offer him back the handkerchief, then decided he might not want it again. I held on to it, and he held out his hand. I gave him the handkerchief, and he cleared his throat, looking anything but amused. “It is a good thing we are in a hospital.”
Slowly, it made sense. We were in a hospital. The smells. The white walls. “What are we doing here?”
“It would appear it is a good thing we are, for your sake. Granted, coming here is my business. However, this is the last place I would wish anyone to be, even in the attempt to escape.”
His hand went around me, and he escorted me down the hall. We turned and went through a set of double doors to a welcome desk where two women in scrubs worked behind it. He spoke to the short-haired woman using Italian. His speaking so fast and my mind and stomach at odds, I could catch enough of the conversation to make out that he asked for assistance for me. With tDamen hovering over me, I followed the nurse to a small room where the nurse took my blood pressure, checked my pulse. She asked how I was feeling in broken English; the entire time, Damen didn’t leave my side.
“Please don’t let me keep you from your reason for coming here,” I told him.
The nurse got me a drink to swish my mouth and determined I would be fine. Of course, I didn’t know all that Damen had told her. I guessed it wasn’t the truth. Yep, I jumped in a pool that was a portal, and I missed the boat. I saw that going over well with someone not aware of the life of demigods.
I could feel the nurse’s sincere desire to help people, and while Damen cleaned his shoes with paper towels, I gave the nurse a hug and kissed both her cheeks in the traditional Italian way. I also gave her a little boost of joy to fill her as I thanked her for taking the time to ensure my health. I felt better. She gave me a subtle pain reliever for the headache I’d be sure to have.
Damen stayed by the door while she checked my heart and looked over my body one last time. He kept his eyes averted, and when I was finished, I expected Jace to be standing out in the hallway, waiting. Damen kept his hand on my arm and led me to an elevator.
“Whatever you’re thinking, don’t.” Damen flexed his fingers against my back.
“How do you know I’m thinking anything?”
“You’re a lot of trouble. Has anyone ever told you that?”
“I wouldn’t be trouble if you’d left me alone in the first place.”
The elevators opened, and I didn’t wait. Feeling the thread tightening, I stepped out. Damen scowled, and I found myself led down the hall to a room to the left. He hesitated, and it made me wonder why he had brought me to this room. He could have sent me back and not had the nurse check on me. I looked around, and there wasn’t any Jace. I was sure Jace would pop up any minute.
19
Damen and I walked into a small room.
A pale woman with blonde hair lay in the bed with tubes and machines attached to keep her alive. Reclining back in a chair, a hand stretched out across to her, Arthur was here. The dear sweet man held onto his love. Damen kept his finger to his lips, not to wake the other man.
The silence was followed by the faint beeping of the heart rate machine. I stood at the foot of the bed, Damen’s hold slackened, and I didn’t know what to say. Shocked, I had no words until the flood of sympathy and hope pushed away the cold in the room.
I blamed the darkness emulating off Damen for putting a chill in the air, but I was old enough to recognize death waiting at the doorstep. But why had it chosen Marisol?
“This is where you’ve been coming.” I kept my voice low. Part of me wished I hadn’t jumped in the pool behind him. Granted, I planned to escape. Not that it didn’t flash in my head—or maybe a hint from one of my sisters—that I should follow him. After all, I still wasn’t sure what it was that Damen did. Nothing good ever came out of the darkness. Only I wasn’t so sure.
I didn’t have to be the daughter of Cupid to recognize love when I saw it. The way his lips lifted a little and his intense, dark eyes, shining with devotion, sent a quiver through my heart. Damen loved Marisol. It was why he kidnapped me and was holding me hostage to get her back. It shouldn’t have come as any kind of surprise or poke at my heart this way. But it did. And I tried to push it away. Somewhere in the past few weeks, the delusion of having Damen fall in love again and move on turned to one of him loving me.
How much more torture could I endure? And this of my own making. I could say I didn’t love him. My heartbeat skipped at the lie. Damen glanced over at me. Did he detect that little skip?
“This is all Cupid’s doing.” Damen turned back to Marisol’s bedside. I noticed it was late in the night from the darkness blanketed outside the window. There were lights in the streets outside, casting an eerie glow on the brick paths, but I was at a loss to know what city we had landed in. More importantly, I wondered if we were still in Italy. At least the nurse spoke English, though not her first language. French, maybe?
Damen sat by the bed, and Marisol’s eyes fluttered open. At first, she started to smile, then her lips turned down. “Damen.” His name on her lips was like a wisp in a breeze. She sighed and closed her eyes for a moment. I stayed still; she hadn’t seen me, nor did I want to cause her distress.
“Is she sick?”
Damen shook his head. He placed his hand under the blankets and slid his hand over her heart. I felt death breathing against my neck, invisible, chuckling as if it found this all funny. Arthur didn’t stir. I moved closer as if I was being pushed to see what was happening. Marisol’s hair had gone from a luxurious blonde to almost white, and her skin had loosened, sagging at the jaw.
Damen spoke softly, words I didn’t understand. I knew almost every language, but this one I couldn’t comprehend. There was a low vibration in the room, and still, Arthur didn’t stir. It felt intrusive to be here. Obviously, Marisol was sick, and in the little time I had seen her last, she gained some years to her appearance.
And then it struck me.
Marisol had grown old.
How long did Damen say they’d be
en together? Had he? The statue in the garden. My fingers grew cold, I laid them over Arthur’s hand, still holding Marisol’s. She wasn’t sick. She was old. Too old. Under the touch of his hand, Damen pulsed dark shadows beneath her skin. She moaned, and I felt it, too, through the thread around my heart.
Arthur’s hand tightened over Marisol’s and mine over his. I poured all the joy I could through the power of that touch. It radiated from his fingers to beneath the skin in her arm, traveling higher. Marisol’s eyes opened, she gasped, and Damen jumped back as if he’s been shocked. His eyes speckled with blue.
“What have you done?” He went to get up.
Marisol held on to his hand. “Damen, stop. Please.”
He scowled at me. Later, I had no doubt he would show me his wrath. Marisol’s color had come back a little, and her winkles had smoothed from around her eyes. She looked at me. Slowly, she smiled. Turning her head to gaze at Damen, she whispered, “You must let me go.”
“Never.” Damen took her hand and kissed it. A zap from the strand around my heart winced.
“Je aime vou. Tres bien.” She slid her hand from under Arthur’s and placed it on his face. “Vou devez me laisser partir. C’est mon temps et mon droit de passer a’ autre chose.”
There was great sadness intertwined with death’s invisible trace as she pleaded with Damen to let her go. Feeling out of place, I turned to go. No one tried to stop me.
You’re seriously going to walk away?
It was the voice of Hope.
What should I do? There was still a chance for me to escape while Damen was occupied.
Joy. Cherish’s stern voice gave me pause.
I glanced over my shoulder. Poor Arthur. Marisol was a lucky woman to have the love of two men. One who had the opportunity to love her longer than the other. Love was rarely ever fair. My heart went out to Arthur. I pressed my fingers to my lips and then blew him a kiss.
And I did the same for Damen. He didn’t avoid it like he had my other kisses.
Inside the room, the air rippled and death eased away. For now, it retreated, and so did I.
Joy In Love (Daughters of Cupid Book 1) Page 10
