Chapter Four
Weeks later, the angel’s words echoed in Jonah’s mind.
A purpose…Jonah stood staring at the family across the street from him, his eyes burning. He knew, without a doubt, what that purpose was now.
And he lifted his eyes to heaven, murmuring, “You might as well send me to hell now. How can I save somebody from the life I lived when I didn’t even care enough to stop myself?”
Sansan didn’t answer though. He hadn’t spoken to Jonah since guiding him to this house days ago. According to the angel, this was his house. It felt familiar, oddly enough, even though Jonah knew he hadn’t ever seen the place in his life. He’d spent the past week prowling through the house, trying to make sense of everything. Anything.
But nothing made sense. Not until now.
It had been more than a month since he had woken in this body, and it wasn’t until now that he understood.
That was his sister’s house across the road. Or rather…Adamm’s sister. That was another life ago, even though it felt like it had just happened yesterday. Plain and simple, that wasn’t his life anymore and Jonah could lay claim to anything that belonged to Adamm.
Lyssa had just now disappeared into the house, but the ache in his chest remained. He couldn’t stop thinking about the shy, awkward girl she had been.
She wasn’t a girl any longer.
She was thirty-two and she had a child.
Thirty-two. A mother.
The boy was twelve now so he would have been nine when Adamm died—when Jonah died—what the hell ever. He still didn’t understand what had happened. Nothing made sense, nothing. Not since he’d taken that bullet in the throat and lain on the ground with the knowledge that he was about to die.
And he had died. He remembered that…sort of. Cold. Dark. Then the bright light.
Sansan.
It seemed like only a few days had passed since that had happened, but it had been three years since Adamm’s death.
Reaching up, he pinched the bridge of his nose and wished the headache pounding behind his eyes would fade. Maybe some aspirin or something might help. At least with the headache.
Nothing was going to help the ache in his chest.
A nephew. He had a nephew and Lyssa had never bothered to let him know.
The boy was gifted, as both Adamm and Lyssa had been. And like Adamm, he was making some very, very bad choices. His parents adored him, and Lyssa understood the magic—none could have understood any better than her.
But none of that made any difference. The boy was running wild, and nothing Lyssa or her husband had done was stopping him.
Jonah wondered if they even realized just how dangerous a road their son was walking.
Jonah did. All too well.
It had been late the night before when something familiar had flooded the air around Jonah. Thick, black, foul magic stained the air. Although, as Adamm, he had never used a spell like this, Jonah understood it, recognized it. The boy was calling power to himself.
But power called was never good power, never innocent and uncorrupted.
The boy was using the blood of animals he had killed to build the spell on.
Jonah had smothered the spell before the boy had finished it. And he had listened to the rage that grew inside the boy as the spell seemed to fail.
Oh, it had worked well enough. But before it could find a target to steal power from, Jonah had crushed it, tearing the stream of power apart before it had sought out a source.
He hadn’t even understood why he’d done it, not until later. Jonah had just known he had to quash that power. Later, though, after he’d thought things through, he had understood.
Because of Dominiqua. Or another like her. Somebody would have felt that wild magic and it was a risk Jonah was unwilling to take.
Lyssa’s son wasn’t going to walk the road Adamm had walked. Not if it could be stopped.
“This is why I’m here,” he whispered as he studied the pretty house across the street.
His sister was in there. In there, with her husband who held her as she cried. All Jonah had to do was concentrate on her and he could feel her, an awareness that he’d never had before. Although his body never moved, he was now in the room with them, watching his sister. Watching as she came apart, and unable to do a damn thing to help.
Right now, she was sitting by her husband and crying.
“It didn’t work,” Mike murmured into her hair, holding her. Jonah hovered in the corner, unseen, listening and watching.
“But it will, sooner or later,” she cried, her hands clenching and tightening in Mike’s shirt. “Damn it, it will. Why, damn it? Why did he have to get that from me?”
“Sweetie—”
She hiccupped softly as she reached up, placing her fingers over Mike’s mouth. “I don’t want to hear it. I’m a witch…I gave birth to one. And he’s evil, just like Adamm was. Maybe I am evil. Maybe I’m not. But I’m to blame. He wouldn’t have this magic if I hadn’t been the one to give birth to him.”
Evil—
“Honey, he’s not going to end up like Adamm did…we won’t let him,” Mike said furiously, his eyes glinting.
“How can we stop it? Damn it, you’ve seen the things he’s been doing, what he’s tried,” Lyssa whispered, shivering, her eyes dark and glassy. “He’s just like Adamm.”
Just like Adamm.
Evil.
Jonah returned to his body, cutting off the awareness of his sister and making himself study the boy in the yard. Grayson was pale skinned, his hair dyed coal black. He had black polish on his nails, had his mouth painted black and his clothes were more of the same.
Plenty of kids loved the Goth dress, the mannerisms, the music…they loved to play a part, played at walking down a dark, deadly road.
Grayson was doing more than just dressing the part. He was ready to take that walk for real and once he started down that road, it would be so much harder to come back.
Inside the boy, Jonah could feel a hunger, an urging. Stronger than his own had been, even.
Grayson wanted power. He craved it. All Adamm had ever wanted was to keep his sister safe, and later, their makeshift family.
Safety was the last thing on Grayson’s mind. He craved power, he craved strength. He craved darkness. But part of him was also confused, scared. Trying to understand why he had been born with magic, finally convincing himself that this was the path to go down.
As Grayson yanked weeds from the garden, he fumed and steamed, furious his spell hadn’t worked, furious he hadn’t succeeded in keeping it from his mother. Shamed by the tears and the lecture that had followed.
Grayson was convinced, though, that dark magic was better.
I’ll show her, damn it. When I’ve got the power to get money, we can pay off the damned bills her fucking brother left us with…we’ll be rich. She’ll understand then…
Bills?
Jonah narrowed his eyes, focusing on Lyssa again, sifting through her mind. Unaware of his presence, she got up and started to pace. She had paid for a funeral for Adamm, had paid off the debts he had incurred with various lowlifes…and had put herself into the hole as she did it.
His mouth tightened. Worry about that later. His first priority, he knew, was the boy.
When we have all the money, when we have everything we want, she’ll understand, Grayson continued to think.
Jonah didn’t know why he did it.
But he spoke, forming the words in his mind, projecting and pushing them out.
No, she won’t understand, kid.
He wasn’t sure who was more startled—himself or Grayson.
The boy’s body jerked, tensed. His eyes went wide and Jonah heard the echo of his own voice as it sounded inside the boy’s head.
Grayson’s mouth dropped open and his eyes wheeled around, looking for the source of the voice he had heard. Who in the hell is this?
Doesn’t matter…what matters is that you listen. Stop this, while you can, Jonah told him.
Stop what? The magic?
Jonah snorted. No, stop playing Go Fish. Yes, kid. The magic. Stop it. It’s more dangerous than you realize.
Dangerous? Grayson felt fear, but he shoved it down fast, so fast that Jonah caught only a glimpse of it. I can’t stop the magic, even if I wanted to. It’s what I am. It makes me special.
No. It makes you stupid, Jonah responded.
What the fuck do you know? Grayson demanded. His eyes narrowed as he looked and down the street. Who in the fuck are you?
Jonah moved out of view as the boy started to search the street for him. Just because you got a little magic doesn’t mean you can make up your own rules, kid. There’s going to be somebody out there who has stronger magic. And they’ll want you, lie to you, use you.
Grayson smirked. I haven’t met him yet. Nobody can use me. I won’t let them. And nobody is as strong as I am…I can do anything.
No, Jonah whispered. You can’t. And you have met him—how do you think your spell was messed up last night?
As the boy started to swear, low and vicious, Jonah pulled away, retreating inside his house.
***
Lily yawned, propping her feet on the rail of the porch, a happy little smile on her lips. A cold breeze came whipping down the street and probably would have driven most people inside.
But most people hadn’t lived trapped in darkness for century after century.
Sitting there, with the thin light of the early spring sun shining down on her face was as close to perfect as Lily had ever come.
This is so nice, she thought to herself. She hadn’t ever lived with such peace before. No wars, no raging, no power struggles…well, there had been one she’d sensed a few nights ago.
Youth versus experience—power struggling to become more, stopped by a greater magic. The struggle, quickly over, had jerked her from her sleep and she had followed the source before remembering—she wasn’t a part of that world anymore.
She was a nurse, a healer. And the power struggles of others didn’t need to concern her anymore.
Says…who, exactly?
Lily jumped, her eyes flying open as she searched for the speaker. She couldn’t see him anywhere. But she knew who it was, the third angel…Sansan. His voice was unmistakable, like harp-song, lovely, haunting, ethereal.
“I’m sorry?” Her voice shook. She hated the fear living inside her. Hated looking at Sansan and wondering if her time was up. If she’d already failed this final test.
You were put here to right wrongs. Just because they weren’t your wrongs doesn’t mean you can overlook them. Especially if you have the power to stop others from turning to darkness, like your mother did.
“That’s not my fight,” she said softly. “I don’t know how to help the child.”
Sansan laughed. First, you have to care enough to try…and then the rest will come. But do not think you have no interest, no concern for the others around you. Indeed, if people were more concerned with the welfare of others, this world wouldn’t be such a dark place. Creatures like your mother wouldn’t be able to sink their hold so deeply into others.
Blood rushed to her cheeks and she closed her eyes in shame. Yes, her mother was adept at exploiting the desires of those who cared more for themselves than for others, so very adept.
“It’s a very young power. He can’t be much more than a babe. There was another power I felt, someone older, powerful—that one stopped the boy from calling power to himself. If he had succeeded, he would have fallen under my mother’s notice.”
Indeed, he would have, Sansan said. Nothing the Queen of Demons loves more than to corrupt the young. And the gifted young…she loves even more.
Lily had the odd feeling of being watched, his gaze shrewd and penetrating. Awareness bloomed within her. You want me to protect the boy from her. Fear started to swell inside her as remembered pain rose to her mind. “Protect a child, from her…and I am mortal now.”
A warmth settled around her, like a gentle hug. Child…mortal, yes, you are. But never without protection of your own. You are protected now, from her. And you are not without your own strengths and powers. Your mother cannot harm you.
Lily pressed her lips together, tears burning her eyes. What is to stop her? “She lost with me—she hates failure. The rage of that failure will eat at her, consume her. When she realizes I’m here—”
You are not without protection, Lily. We did not bring you here to abandon you. And we know Lilith well, very well.
A startled cry left her lips as the warmth around her dwindled down to one fine point, burning hot, like a laser drilling through her flesh. It was at her right shoulder, just atop her shoulder blade, burning through flesh. Tears stung her eyes and she clapped her hand over it. The moment she touched her flesh, the pain stopped. And the flesh, once smooth and unmarred, now had a ridging on it. Craning her head around, she looked down and saw a marking, slightly raised, dusky rose in color. It looked like the wings of an angel.
That is my mark—you are one of my charges, and guarded by me. Lilith will not be able to look at you without seeing my mark. And she will not dare defy me…she knows I operate under a power greater than any she could ever imagine, Sansan said as she rubbed the mark with her finger, wondering at it.
And before she could even form another thought, she felt his presence retreat and she was alone once more.
Alone, with nothing but her thoughts. And her fears.
They wanted her to do something about that boy. They wanted her to keep her mother from finding the boy.
“Why not ask me for the moon?” she muttered. “It might be an easier task.”
***
It was with tremendous anxiety that Lily headed out of her house, following the curving concrete path that wrapped around her neighborhood. Her mouth was dry and her heart trembled within her chest. You would have thought she was doing much more than taking a simple walk. She paused by the mailbox, reaching up and touching her fingers to the mark on her shoulder. He had said she was protected—and her mother feared him, greatly. Almost as much as she feared the High Power.
His was a name that went unspoken by the demons, for fear of drawing His divine attention to them.
His angel’s mark was just like His own mark would be. And if Lily kept reminding herself of that, the jumping in her belly stopped. For a little bit.
But then the dark, gnawing fear would always rear its ugly head. Lilith had spent thousands of years torturing her recalcitrant daughter, making sure the lilum’s fear of her ran deep and true.
Lily still woke at night, screaming in silence, as she remembered the bite of the whip along her back, remembering times when her mother had chained her to floor and turned her sisters loose on her. The beatings had been preferable to that. Her sisters loved inflicting pain and fear and had taken great pleasure in raping her, biting at her flesh until she bled, ripping at her wings.
A succubus’s wings would always grow back—Lily knew well. They had torn hers completely off, more times than she could recall.
A fine sweat formed on her flesh as she lost herself in the painful memories. A pulse of heat formed under her fingers as she rubbed the mark. Taking a deep breath, she shoved the fear aside and opened her eyes.
“I can’t live in fear,” she whispered. “I can’t. I can’t let my memories control me.”
Shoulders squared, she started down the sidewalk, focusing on the sources of power she sensed.
It was really was just a boy, she mused, staring at the sullen youth yanking weeds out of one of the pretty little flowerbeds that dotted the yard. The boy had dyed his hair a dull, lifeless black, and as he lifted his face, his mouth twisted in a snarl, she saw he had taken to painting his mouth, as well, with black lipstick. Around his neck, he wore an emblem, one that was older than time itself.
So old, even time itself should have forgotten it. But power wouldn’t be forgotten. Power didn’t allow such a thing to happen.
Lily had certainly never forgotten it. Although the pendants had already been ancient when she was born, she knew their story. All the lilum knew of Szardi’s magic.
Szardi—the priest who had worshipped their mother and used his magic to fashion the pendants as an offering to her. It was a gift that had pleased her mother to no end. Although in the end, Szardi had suffered the same fate as any other mortal man who had the bad luck to catch Lilith’s attention. He had died not long after he’d finished the last of the pendants. His magic still lived on, though. Most likely aided by her mother’s power, somehow.
The pendant was a hooked shape, like a claw set into a pair of wings that looked more reptilian than anything.
Her mother’s mark. Though he had no sign of her foul touch or that of her sisters, he bore their mark. That combined with his magic was bad news, very bad.
Her instincts screamed at her—run. She needed to be gone from here, before her mother or one of her sisters came a-calling. Lilith would recognize her daughter, even though the demon magic no longer lay about her like a mantle. Some of her sisters would likely know her as well.
If they found her here…
A cold sweat broke out all over her body and she suppressed the need to shiver—and the need to run. Although she didn’t fully understand why.
That pendant—she had to know more about it, why he had it, where he could have possibly gotten it.
Where… She closed her eyes and summoned her own power, concentrating on that pendant. The boy flinched as she delicately slid into his mind and briefly, she was aware of him smacking at the side of his head, like shooing at a bug.
Easy, boy, she crooned to his subconscious. I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to know about that pendant.
Part of him heard her, and his fingers curled around the pendant, his mind drifting back to when he had bought it. At a shop in Louisville, where he had gone with a couple of girls.
Through his memories, Lily could see the girls. They had been dressed similar to him, trying so hard to act grown up and cool. But they got into a shop that dealt with magic and power and all they had done was giggle and snicker at the books around them.
He was the only powered one among them. She could tell that just by looking through his memories. He knew he was different. He’d always been different.
The dark, tarnished copper piece had been buried in a box of junk. He had sensed it, felt it… It had been seeking out one just like him. Szardi’s pendants were crafted to do just that. Sooner or later, it would call to Lilith, when he started working the major magics.
One of the lilum would come for him.
Lily really didn’t want to be there when it happened. Still, even though the need to run threatened to overwhelm her, she had no intention of leaving.
A shiver of sensation raced down her spine and she froze, nostrils flaring, skin prickling. There was another around. Somebody not completely mortal…somebody like the boy. Damn it, was it too late?
She continued to walk slowly, moving her eyes around. The attention was now focused on her and he watched her, whoever he was. With intent, focused eyes. She could feel him, not just his look, but him. Something familiar… Her breath locked in her lungs, fear flooding her. Blood started to pound as her body readied itself for battle. Damn it.
Battle wasn’t something Lily was unaccustomed to, but she had never fought before with human weaknesses. Although she would have the edge of experience over any mortal, she no longer had that demonic strength, no longer had a body that would heal any wound in heartbeats.
Lily knew, because she had checked. Never one to leave things to chance, she had to know exactly how different she was now. She could lift hundreds of pounds—but once she had been able to tear pure steel to shreds. The cut she had made on her right forearm took three days to heal completely, instead of three seconds.
Still a little more than mortal, but no longer demon. That was enough for her.
Taking a deep breath, she tried to figure out what in the hell to do.
Get away from prying eyes—that was first thing she needed to do. While a frightened part of her babbled like a child, and screeched, go hide, the rest of her was thinking coolly as she rounded the block and took the path that led to the lake and the park. There was a nature preserve there, vast, beautiful—and private. She started to jog along the path, her ears pricked, muscles tensed and ready for action.
She heard nothing. But she could still feel him. It was a him—the power radiating from him was strong, distinctly male. Masked and low level, but still there. And the ease with which he tamped down his power disturbed her even more. It meant it was somebody who knew his strengths, his capabilities. And he followed her. That had Lily thinking he sensed her presence as well.
Taking a trail that led into the nature preserve, Lily left the paved jogging path, following the trail as it wound and twisted its way through the preserve, farther and farther away from any prying eyes that might be watching.
Finally, she slowed to a walk and scanned the area around her. Nothing but trees and rocks.
Taking a deep breath, she tensed and leaped, her hands just barely catching on the branch five feet over her head. Blowing out a breath, she muttered, “At least some of her power is good for something.”
Not everything she had from her mother had to be used for evil. Only the good daughters of Lilith would believe that. And Lilan had never been a good daughter—at least, not her mother’s idea of a good daughter.
Actually, she was the good daughter—or at least she wanted to be.
A sad little smile tilted up the corners of her mouth. How Mother would despair if she saw me now. Instead of seeking out the boy and bringing him closer to the dark beauty of Lilith, she had all these protective urges rising within her.
Protecting, instead of destroying. Yes, Lilith would despair.
Ever the disappointment, wasn’t I?
A dark head passed below her, pausing just beneath her feet, searching. The man slid his hands in his pockets and then, before she could decide what to do, he lifted his head and stared at her through the leaves, his piercing green eyes meeting her levelly.
The pit of her stomach dropped out. Damn it, she knew him. The man from the hospital, when she had first appeared in the world as mortal.
He had been comatose until that very day, according to his records. Had woken right under her hands, and although she doubted he’d recall, he had opened his eyes and stared right at her, reaching out and grasping onto her hand like she was a life preserver.
That was her first real memory as a mortal, his hand gripping hers.
And there had been no evil in that gaze, no malice. In fact, her soul had recognized him…called out to him, on some odd level. A kindred spirit.
“Well, well, well,” he said with a tiny grin. “Don’t I know you?”
Blowing a breath out, she dropped down to the ground, landing on the balls of her feet, staring at him suspiciously. Leave, she told herself. She sent the message down to her feet, tried to make herself walk away.
And couldn’t do it. She didn’t even understand why, but she couldn’t leave.
“I was right,” he mused, cocking his head as he watched her.
“Right about what?” Lily frowned and looked down at her feet, wondering if they’d sprouted roots. She really did need to leave now.
“About you—you’re a witch.”
Lily jerked her head up and stared at him. “I most certainly am not,” she said, her voice icy. Once upon a time, it would have been laughable, comparing a demon’s power to that of a witch. But she was no longer demon, or at least not fully demon.
“What else would you call it? You’ve got power. I feel it.”
Lily sniffed. “Having power doesn’t make me a witch.” She didn’t want to be a witch. She wanted, more than anything, to be simply human. She didn’t even want the ability to heal—she wanted to be normal. Completely normal, like she’d never been in her life.
“Well, it certainly makes you something. If you’re not a witch, then what are you?”
Innocently, she offered, “A nurse?”
White teeth flashed as he grinned. “The typical nurse can’t fix wasted muscles with just a touch of their hands.”
Lily frowned at him. He wasn’t supposed to remember that. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t play dumb.” He caught a lock of her hair and tugged. “It really doesn’t suit you.”
She wished she knew how to respond to that. But she didn’t. “Do you live around here?”
“Yeah.”
A few seconds of silence stretched between them and Lily rolled her eyes. “Aren’t you the chatterbox?”
He shrugged.
Move. Move now, feet. But her feet were still playing tree, like she was rooted to the ground. Licking her dry lips, she gave him a bright smile and asked, “So you’re out for a morning walk?”
“I’m out looking for you.”
Lily blinked. “Me?”
“Just following the power,” he said.
Following the power…abruptly, she realized something that should have been clear as day. The minute she saw him—the minute she’d felt his presence. “You were the one who stopped the boy last night.”
Before, at the hospital, she hadn’t even sensed his power. As deep as she suspected his power ran, it should have swathed him.
She hadn’t been able to taste his power then, but perhaps it had still slumbered within him. She should have sensed it, but then again, she had been struggling to adjust to her sudden mortal state. That, too, could be why she hadn’t realized what he was.
The power inside him was considerable, for a mortal. Combined with a nebulous darkness. It wasn’t anything she could call evil—Lily knew evil. Nothing understood evil like a demon. Or a former demon. No, there was just that nebulous darkness, a hesitancy.
“Stopped what boy?” A brow lifted, giving that canny, handsome face a quizzical air.
“Now who is playing dumb?” Lily rolled her eyes. “It doesn’t really suit you well, either.”
His grin widened. “Doesn’t it?” Then he shrugged and slipped his hands into his pockets. “How do you know about the boy?”
“The same way you do, I imagine. I felt him. He’s strong, and he has absolutely no idea what kind of trouble he’s asking for.” Sighing wearily, she brushed her hair back from her face. “Somebody really needs to address that.”
“How long have you known about him?”
“Not long. The spell he was trying to work last night was the first time I can recall sensing him.” Lily shook her head. “And if he’d been using that sort of magic before, I would have sensed him before.”
“I can believe that,” he said quietly, watching her intensely.
Under that intense gaze, she felt her belly tighten.
“You were healing people in that hospital, people who should have died,” he said softly. “I don’t know if I’ve ever felt anything quite like what I’m feeling from you. You aren’t just a healer—but the longer I stand here, the more likely I am to agree. You really aren’t a witch.”
“No. I’m really not.” But she wasn’t about to tell him that she was the daughter of an ancient demon. One corner of her mouth curved up at the corner as she lowered her lashes. “What I am really isn’t that important. What matters is that boy, what you want with him. I felt you watching him. He will feel it, sooner or later.”
The boy really shouldn’t concern her so much. He was no blood to her. She did not even know his name and until last night, she’d been unaware of his presence. Now that she was aware of him, he presented a threat to her. Sansan had said that her mother, her sisters couldn’t harm her during this time. But mortals could. The boy was most certainly mortal and if he fell into her mother’s clutches… Could she handle a boy witchling if her mother decided to take him under her scaled wings?
Lily really didn’t know the answer to that.
“I’m curious why he matters so much to you,” Jonah said softly.
“Why does he matter so much to you?” she countered, unsure how to answer him. Reaching up, she threaded her fingers through her hair, fisting the heavy locks into a ponytail at the nape of her neck. Slowly, she said, “This is a boy, a sullen, angry, defiant boy. When he becomes aware of somebody who poses a threat to him, he’s going to do what anybody in his shoes would do. He’ll fight—he’ll sense a threat and he’ll fight.”
“I’m not a threat to him,” Jonah snapped, pushing off the tree, his arms hanging loose at his sides, hands curled into loose fists.
Lily shook her head and sighed. “You’d be the biggest threat to him that he can imagine. A threat to what he thinks he is, what he thinks he should be,” she whispered, her eyes closing to half-mast. Damn it, she could sense something… What was that? Reaching out with some obscure part of herself, she tentatively touched that obscure picture…and sensed a boy. A young one. Full of power, and already turning down a dark path, not because he wanted it though…because it was the path that lay in front of him, the one he could travel the quickest.
Quick had been necessary for him. There was somebody depending on him. Somebody who needed him. She shook her head, trying to push aside the fog his memories induced on her mind. Watching him through her lashes, she said, “You’ve been where he is.”
A muscle jerked in his jaw, but he didn’t deny it.
“You sought it because it was quick.”
Now those green eyes turned to ice and he said stiffly, “Stay the hell out of my head.”
Lily shook her head. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t looking… It’s just sort of there for me.” She licked her lips and looked away from him, but she was still too aware of him. His very presence crowded her, his memories, the remnant emotions—doubt, guilt, anger, frustration, all of them pushing at her shields until she had to struggle just to keep him apart from her.
“The boy doesn’t think he has much choice, either. But he doesn’t really want one. He thinks it’s cool, senses power down that road. He doesn’t think he belongs anywhere else, and he’s too young to realize he has to make his own place in the world.” Lily looked up and studied him closely, saw the answers she needed without having to do anything more than look into his eyes. “You know how deadly that path is. He won’t know, or care, until it’s too late. And maybe by then, he will be so mired in the evil, he won’t remember how to care.”
I feel drunk… Touching her fingers to her head, she fought to shove the foreign memories aside, to focus on the man in front of her. “You never really stopped caring, did you? It was just easier, that path you walked.”
His voice was cool, stiff—distant as he said, “Yes. It was easier. Damn it, I told you to stay out of my head.”
Lily blinked and wished she could understand why she felt so dizzy, why she felt so off balance. “I can’t stop it—it’s like something is dumping it into my head and I can’t shut it off.”
“Find a way,” he snarled.
Swallowing, she lifted her lashes and stared at him, at his pale, cold face, the diamond-hard eyes. “I don’t think I can,” she whispered, lifting one shoulder. Actually, she didn’t think she was meant to find a way.
Jonah felt stripped raw, laid bare, and he didn’t like it one damn bit. He almost shoved past her and stormed away, but then she reached up, rubbed her temples. A pained sigh escaped her lips and her shoulders slumped.
When she looked back up at him, her eyes were still dazed, almost drugged. He didn’t want her looking at him, not considering how easily she saw him. There was something…fey about this woman. He couldn’t think of any other way to describe it. Something fey, something surreal…something unlike anything he had sensed before. And she knew pieces of him he hadn’t even thought about.
Yes, his path had been the easier one—he saw that, now. Even Sansan, though he had said it many a time, hadn’t driven that home as hard as this woman just did.
Back then, he had felt trapped. But he had been given a gift that could have done so much. Hell, he could have taken other paths, let the state take Lyssa, could have finished school, done a million things if his pride and his own independence hadn’t stopped him.
“Who in the hell are you?”
She gave him a shaky smile. “You know who I am.”
“The hell I do. How do you know so much about me? How did you find out about that kid?”
“I already told you…I just know. As to finding out about that kid, if he hadn’t been trying to use darker magic, I don’t think I would have even known he existed.”
She wrapped her arms around her middle and rubbed them with the palms of her hands. When she looked at him again, the fog in her eyes had cleared and she watched him with a direct, open stare. “I know you were trying to help him last night. But you can’t do it that way again. You can’t overpower him again, not like you did. It worked then…but he’ll fight back next time and when he does, something will come for him.”
“What are you talking about?”
Lily shook her head. “Just remember…you can’t force him again. If you do, he’s going to fight and bad things will happen if he fights.”
Then, without saying another word, she turned and walked away.
***
Later that night, he remembered her words.
As he stretched out on the bed and tried to sleep, those words haunted him. Something. Whatever this nebulous something was, he suspected Lily knew an awful lot about it.
There had been fear in her voice as she’d said that. A deep, abiding fear that had chilled his flesh. The kind of fear that comes from experience.
But what was she talking about? If the kid kept using magic, he was going to draw somebody to him…somebody like Dominiqua, maybe, assuming the woman was still alive.
But Lily wouldn’t fear Dominiqua. He didn’t know how he knew that, but he did. Lily made that evil bitch’s power pale in comparison. He could feel something immense inside her, like a hurricane’s power, harnessed.
Dangerous—she was very, very dangerous to his peace of mind. In more ways than one.
The man he’d once been might have seen that power and hungered for it. Hungered for her, hungered to control her power, hungered to taste that lovely body, feel it move against his own. But he wouldn’t have dared to touch her.
Jonah was having much harder time convincing himself to steer clear.
“Stop thinking about her,” he muttered.
As the night passed, he waited for the power to start to build, waited to see if once more the boy tried again to call the power to him.
It never came and finally, near dawn, he drifted to sleep.
And dreamed of a woman, with dusky skin, black eyes…and wings…she huddled in the corner, her eyes dark and terrified as she stared at something that was beyond Jonah’s limited line of sight. There was blood streaking her nude body, dried, no signs of the wounds that could have caused the bleeding. She was shaking, trembling, keeping most of her face hidden behind her arms, her body jerking every so often.
He could hear a voice, talking to her, derisive and cruel. But he couldn’t understand the language—it was unlike anything he had ever heard.
Finally, two more women, inhumanly beautiful, winged and naked, went to the cowering woman and jerked her up. As her hands fell to her sides, he saw Lily’s face.
Her head drooped and she went meekly with the women who jerked on her arms. It was as they were lashing her to the floor that he started to twist on his bed, the terror he felt drying the spit from his mouth. Why was he seeing this? What was he seeing? Those women…
A dream, he told himself, trying to jerk himself awake as the two women started to crawl all over the restrained one, the one with Lily’s face. She had her face turned to the side, and tears rolled down her cheeks.
Her mouth opened in a scream as one of the other woman stood over her and struck out with a whip. It was the sound of the lash striking her flesh that woke Jonah up.
“Fuck,” he muttered, aware that he was sitting in his bed, his body soaked with sweat and his hands shaking. “What in the hell…”
Terrible language, son. Terrible, terrible language.
Automatically, Jonah turned his head to the mirror, not surprised to see Sansan staring at him with those odd, kind eyes. “Old habits die hard,” he muttered. “The woman…Lily…is she safe?”
To trust? There are few people I think that are as worthy of trust as she is, the angel murmured, his eyes distant and far off. And she knows, even better than you, what the boy is toying with, the danger he is in.
“She’s more capable of saving him than I am,” Jonah said tiredly. “She’s…pure. I have to fight every day not to succumb to what I know, what feels normal.”
I doubt it would feel as normal now as it once did, Sansan said, shrugging carelessly, his eyes staring into the distance, his gaze almost blind, as though he was seeing something from another time. You understand, now, what road you were walking. And you see how badly it hurt Lyssa, to see you as you were.
Then Sansan focused his eyes on Jonah, that penetrating gaze that made Jonah realize just how very small he was in the scheme of things. The magic he had been so coolly proud of, what he thought made him stand out was nothing. Nothing. When he looked into Sansan’s eyes, he saw just the barest glimmer of what true power was.
You understand, better than she does, how easy it is to take that wrong path, how great the temptation. Lily is…unique. She wasn’t given the choice many of us have, the choice to do good or evil. She fought to do good—even though her very nature made it nigh impossible.
Jonah scowled, his brows drawing down low over his eyes. “What in the he… What are you talking about?” he demanded, damn near biting his tongue as hell tried to slip unchecked from his mouth. “That woman isn’t evil.”
No. And it pleases me greatly that you can so easily recognize what is evil from what isn’t. Before, you wouldn’t have tried to look, even when it shone so easily, right there on the surface. Sansan smiled, that brilliant, flashing grin that could have eclipsed the sun with its brightness.
“You didn’t answer me,” Jonah said, fighting to keep his voice somewhat level.
No…I didn’t.
He was gone in the blink of eye, the echo of his laughter lingering in the air, like a warm spring breeze.
Jonah flopped back onto his bed, pressing his hands to eyes and groaning.