Blood In The Stars (22 page)

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Authors: Jennifer Shea

BOOK: Blood In The Stars
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“He said something about sanctioning our marriage. I assume that once it’s sanctioned, the creatures will go away. It sounds like a contract loophole.”

His lips drew into a thin, bitter line. “You’re thinking like an attorney. And you’re right. A sanctioned marriage is an exception to the rules. It allows the marriage outside the scope of the laws. But there are only two ways to get that. The first one already failed.”

“Luke said no,” she sighed.

Miller nodded. “That leaves only one option.”

Daria waited for Miller to continue but he didn’t, preferring to sip his coffee and chew on his food. When she couldn’t take the wait any longer, she cried, “Are you going to tell me or not?”

“Why hasn’t Jason told you?”

Her brows crinkled, bemused. She hadn’t thought about it until now, given all that had happened. But the way Miller asked, he made it sound purposeful.

“He hasn’t told you because you might refuse,” Miller answered for her.

“Why?”

“It’s not my place to say. I can help you, but there will be consequences, Daria.”

All his loaded statements sent jitters through her. “What are you implying? What consequences?”

He countered with yet another question. “How much do you want to marry him?”

“Jason is adamant we marry. I might tease him a little sometimes, but he knows how I feel. And yes, I want to marry him, too.”

“No matter the consequence?”

“Yes.” If Jason said this was their last option, she had no choice.

Miller let out a heavy breath. “All right. Good.” Then he attempted a smile that seemed decently genuine. Maybe he’d finally gotten the hang of it.

With the smooth movements of a practiced hand, Jason drew the cloth across the steel blade. The rhythmic motions were a small attempt to calm his nerves before the imminent fight ahead. It helped him focus his thoughts.

On the coming massacre.

The beach remained quiet and his mind drifted to something darker: Balthazar.

The vision of the man standing in front of the gate plagued Jason. As long as he had breath in his body, he would remember the way Balthazar had grabbed Alice by the hair and held the dagger to her neck. Alice had whimpered and pleaded with Jason to save her. But he had stood by, held back by Balthazar’s men.

Because he was weak, as his father claimed.

He should not claim to love anyone if he didn’t have the power to protect the one he loved. Jason’s hand paused in its rhythmic motion. He would never let Balthazar get near Daria again.

Jason placed the sword on his bed and stood, staring out toward the lake. Had the coalition not come because of the uprising in Hell? Between Hell and the auspicious one, had they chosen the former?

He left his room and strode to the kitchen. Daria sat with Miller eating breakfast, engaging in deep conversation. They parted abruptly upon his entry.

Their stance aroused his suspicions. What had they been whispering about?

Daria jumped down from her seat and came to him with bright eyes sparkling in anticipation. “How’d you sleep?”

“Fine,” he answered slowly. “I still need to go check on Candy. She should be waking soon.”

That brought Miller out of his chair. “I’ll go. Help yourself to breakfast,” he called over his shoulder.

Jason gestured for Daria to follow him outside. He didn’t want anyone to eavesdrop so he waited until they were several yards from the house before pulling her behind a majestic elm tree. Hiding behind the wide tree trunk, Jason verified they were alone before he curled his arms around her waist and pulled her close. “Happy birthday, Daria.”

She gave him a sad smile. “Thanks. And no, I don’t feel any different than I did yesterday.”

Maybe Daria, like his mother, would never develop powers. It didn’t matter to him either way. He didn’t love her for the powers within her flesh and blood.

“I need your help to find the way out of here.” He kept his voice low. “Before my brother and father forcibly pull me off.”

Her brows shot up and she looked around nervously as though afraid they’d be caught. “What do you mean?”

“There’s an exit in the backyard. It will create an opening in the protective barrier which will allow us to travel through the shadows and I can take you away.”

Her eyes darted along the hedgerow and she jumped at a noise above, then sagged when she saw it was just a squirrel. She grabbed his arms. “Miller will help us. He promised me just now,” she whispered, flashing him a conspiratorial grin.

No wonder they were so secretive in the kitchen. If anyone heard, there’d be hell to pay.

“We just have to get married in a church,” she declared, gazing at him tenderly. “It will be sanctioned and your House will have to recognize me. I’ll automatically be under your protection and your House will continue to rule. But Miller said there are consequences.” Daria stepped closer and searched his face. “What consequences? Miller wouldn’t tell me.”

Jason let out a breath of relief.
Good
. The witch had kept his mouth shut. What she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her.

He smiled and placed his hands on her arms. “His help is what matters. Did Miller tell you how to get out of here?”

Daria nodded. “He’s going to meet us here at midnight and let us out.”

Midnight. The witching hour. Miller’s powers would be at its strongest then. The three of them had to get out of the house undetected by either the residents or the creatures outside. The odds weren’t in their favor.

And once they got out, he’d have to deal with those lovely consequences. A lump of dread grew in his throat. He tried to swallow but failed.

She continued to stare up at him, waiting patiently for his response. Expectation lit her eyes.

Jason squeezed her hand in reassurance. “Then we’ll be married tomorrow.”

After all the trials they’d endured to be together, he wanted to believe more than anything in the world, that there lay a simple solution . . . marriage, in a church and before the eyes of God. He was supposed to put his future in the hands of faith. But they needed more than faith.

They needed a miracle.

Chapter 20

Giddy excitement bubbled through Daria and set her heart racing. Finally, she and Jason would be together. But with the mind-reading abilities of Mike and Luke, their plans could leak. Consequently, she retreated to the garden and spent her day avoiding everyone.

Her peace was short-lived, however. She had no sooner decided to go back to the house, when Alastor found her. Maybe he hadn’t been searching for her explicitly since he’d been walking in the opposite direction. Still, he didn’t seem surprised to see her.

He was almost too bright to look at, standing there against the sunlight, his hair gleaming. He wore a white button-down shirt today, its tails flapping with the soft breeze. His tan khakis complemented their green surroundings. He seemed so pure, almost pristine. If people saw him, she’d bet no one would guess the awful things he could say. They would never know that he asked his own brother to kill him.

Alastor came toward her, unhurried. Despite wanting nothing more than to run into the house, Daria stopped and waited for him. She had to stand her ground. If she kept running every time she saw Alastor, she would never get any respect from the guy.

When he stood a few feet away, Alastor smiled, displaying a row of perfect, white teeth. She expected the usual chill to run up her spine and was surprised when it didn’t come. Perhaps he had turned his fearful aura off, or else she had grown accustomed to being scared of him.

“Happy birthday, Daria.”

They all remembered. She hadn’t run into a single person who had forgotten. Strange, but he didn’t ask any questions about her powers. Maybe he had already heard the news and was disappointed.
No one’s as disappointed as me
.

“It’s a nice day. Care to take a walk with me?” he asked.

Taking a stroll with Alastor was the last thing on her mind. She glanced at the house again, wondering if she could make it inside in time.

His chuckles brought a blush to her face. “Don’t worry. You’re safe with me.” He quirked another smile. “For now.”

That last little addition didn’t make her feel better at all. She had half a mind to say no.

“There’s a lovely walkway around the garden,” he added persuasively. “It won’t take more than ten minutes.”

The walkway was indeed lovely. Daria had spent most of the morning surrounded by the fragrant rosebushes. She’d listened to the harmony of a gently splashing water fountain and chirping birds as she sat on the stone bench. She had enjoyed it then, but she doubted it would be half as enjoyable with Alastor.

Daria stood for a minute longer, struggling between her sense to run and her curiosity to find out what Alastor wanted. Against her better judgment, Daria fell in step beside him, waiting to hear what he had to say.

They headed around the back patio and passed stone steps embedded into the grass, lined by hedgerows and rosebushes. Lamps dotted the pathway, though they weren’t lit now. She saw the stone bench and the gazebo where she had spent her morning. Past the fountain, Alastor halted at the bench and sat, gazing at her expectantly. Gingerly, she sank down next to him.

“So, what did you want to talk about?”

Alastor said nothing at first, merely staring out at the gardens. Maybe he enjoyed making her stew. After all, the longer he held her off, the more anxious she grew. When she was about ready to bounce off the bench, he gave her a kind, almost paternalistic smile.

“You don’t like me very much. I might even say you despise me.”

Well,
despise
seemed a little strong, but he was right. She didn’t like him. It wasn’t anything personal; after all, he’d never done anything to her, per se. She didn’t like the way he looked at her sometimes. Or how he looked at Jason.

“But you seem to have feelings for Jason,” Alastor added.

Daria nodded. “I love him.” And she had nothing to be embarrassed about, so she was going to tell anyone who cared to listen. Maybe then they’d leave her alone.

“Why do you two not get along?” she asked curiously.

A faint smile crossed Alastor’s face. “I know you won’t believe me when I say this, but I want the best for my family. That includes Jason.”

She started to protest but the words died on her lips. On any other day she would have argued with him. But strangely, just like this morning with Luke, she believed Alastor.

Instead, she faced him squarely. “Why do you want him to kill you?”

Alastor’s eyes met hers briefly before turning away. “Why would anyone ask to die?” He shook his head, as if asking a philosophical question. One she didn’t have the answer to.

“Our marriage doesn’t need anyone to die,” she tried.

At that, Alastor laughed. “That’s where you’re wrong. I’ve made my position very clear to him. He can marry you. But he will have to kill me first.”

Daria stood. “Then there’s nothing left to talk about.”

They headed back to the house, walking in silence before Alastor commented, “Marrying the auspicious one is a lifetime of responsibility. If Jason really wants to protect you, he would stop at nothing. No matter how many he needs to kill.” He sneered. “But he doesn’t have it in him. When the time comes, I won’t be the one standing in your way. It’ll be Jason.”

Daria was quiet as she preceded Alastor into the house, which was abuzz with conversation. Damien stood arguing with Miller about why the next attack hadn’t come. Mike chatted on his cell phone and Luke began calling to Alastor. Jason cast her a smile and strode to her.

As she stopped to take in the chaos, the oven pinged. Since she stood right next to the appliance, she felt obliged to pull open the door and retrieve the contents. The moment the letter came within view, it took every ounce of restraint to keep her stomach from turning.

With weak knees and a quivering arm, she held the note as far away from her person as possible. “It’s . . . it’s . . .”

“Covered in blood,” Jason finished, snatching the folded sheet of paper. He skimmed the contents of the letter and spun to face Damien. “Stop arguing! Your father is in trouble!”

Damien paled and rushed over to grab the letter. He scanned the paper and turned even whiter. His hands dropped and the note fluttered to the floor. An uncomfortable hush spread through the room.

With glazed eyes, Damien staggered back, one hand reaching out to grip the back of a chair for support. “The palace was attacked. My father’s missing and my second brother is on the front lines.” Grief seemed to swamp him for interminable seconds, before a hardened resolve swept over his black eyes and he marched to the door.

“Where do you think you’re going? I still have the shield around the house,” Miller cautioned.

But Damien ignored Miller and continued to the front door.

“I think the idiot is going to run for it,” Alastor mused.

At that, Miller tackled Damien as the latter neared the door. “Don’t even think about getting to the barrier. It’ll toast you!”

“Get the fuck off me!” Damien bellowed.

“You’re not leaving this house!”

The two men struggled and Damien slammed Miller onto his back. The force of the blow slackened Miller’s arms, loosening his hold on Damien. Unfortunately for the demon, he put Miller between himself and the door to freedom.

“You’re not passing the barrier,” Miller repeated, splaying his hands out.

Damien whipped out his own hand and a ball of fire burst into his palm. “Move or I will torch this precious house of yours.”

“Be my guest.” Miller made an expansive gesture. “I have fire insurance and it’s due for remodeling anyway.”

Daria couldn’t comprehend what happened next. One minute they stood there and the next, Jason had thrown himself in front of Miller just as the fireball flew from Damien’s hand.

Jason dropped to the floor, his chest blackened from the fireball. The stench of charred flesh and burnt cloth permeated the room. Her breath died in her throat. Jason lay on the floor, unmoving. Why wasn’t he moving?

Get up! Please get up.
She ran to him.

“Christ!” Miller breathed. He touched Jason’s arm tentatively.

“Are you out of your mind?” Damien yelled at Jason’s motionless body as Miller encircled Jason and lifted him.

Tears rushed down Daria’s cheeks. The sickening aroma of his wound wafted to her nostrils. Her stomach wrenched as nausea hit her. She stared down at death. Jason’s.

“You shouldn’t have done it,” Damien wailed. He retreated from the door.

“Can you heal him?” Miller cried. “He’s burning up. You’re an angel. Heal him!”

Daria turned to see Alastor, who stood over his brother with what could only be described as contempt. Laughter rang through the room as Alastor smirked at them. “Angel? There are no angels here. You forget. Only those who have never sinned can heal.”

Sniffling, she brushed back his hair. The cold, clammy skin didn’t belong on Jason. He was full of warmth. Full of life. He had to live. She wouldn’t be able to go on without him. “You’re going to be fine,” she whispered, but she couldn’t stop the tears from flowing.

Thundering feet broke the tense silence. Someone pulled her away from Jason and set her on the couch. She couldn’t see whom because the world had blurred through her tears. But she heard a voice instruct, “Candy. Alastor. Take your brother to his room.”

Her brain briefly registered that Candy was up and bouncing around. Daria vaguely felt someone sit next to her and then a warm hand touched her temple with a command to sleep.

Her lids drooped and blessed slumber overtook her.

Jason’s body pulsated with a soreness that could only have come from abusing his body at the gym, or a long day of drinking. His limbs weighed down against the mattress and his chest throbbed with every shallow breath he took.

Yet despite the pain, he felt a warm and gentle hand holding his. It stroked his fingers in rhythmic motions of silent reassurance.

It took inhuman effort to open his eyes. A hazy figure sat on the bed before him and for a split second, his heart leapt to think that Daria tended to him. As his vision cleared, he wondered why Daria appeared taller and broader than earlier. Had she cut her hair?

“Oh. It’s you, Uncle Mike,” Jason croaked.

“Don’t be too excited.” But no malice lined Mike’s voice. “How do you feel?”

“Like I just got run over.” Jason tried to shift his body, and his limbs ached with every move. “You healed me?”

Mike smiled. “Well, you couldn’t exactly heal yourself. You feeling good enough to talk?”

Jason nodded and forced himself to sit up. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this awful. By force of habit, he found himself rubbing his wrists as though they were the source of his ills.

Mike leveled him an even glance. “The unrest in Hell isn’t the only reason why I came down here, Jason. It’s been centuries since we last talked. Have you thought about my offer again?”

Everyone in Jason’s family carried the chains, a permanent humiliation of a lost war. But several hundred years ago, his uncle had come to Jason with a proposal. Mike said he belonged in Heaven. Jason had laughed. He didn’t get along with his family, but he wasn’t about to betray them, either. And then, Mike told him his lack of sin carried much more meaning than Jason had ever imagined. It acted like a ticket through the holy gates.

Bile rose to Jason’s throat. He would never go to Heaven. If he left this realm, he would never be able to marry Daria.

“Don’t waste your breath,” Jason retorted tiredly. “I’m not interested.”

“You weren’t interested then because you were mourning Alice. I know you like this one better.”

Like this one better.
That didn’t begin to describe his feelings for Daria. Mike’s statement far diminished their relationship.

“Perhaps I could offer an exchange.”

Jason froze, momentarily stunned that the Angel Michael tried to bargain with him. Surely that was in violation of some heavenly law or another. But when he looked into Mike’s blue eyes, the same eyes of his father, brother, and sister, he didn’t find any guile or subterfuge. He saw a sincere interest to bring him into the heavenly folds.

He sighed, willing to indulge his uncle for now. “What could you possibly offer me?”

“Her safety.”

Jason jumped from the bed, vertigo almost sending him toward the floor. As he swayed on his feet and crisp air touched his skin, he realized he was shirtless. Then his eyes fell on the tatters left by Damien’s fireball and now sitting in the trash.

“There is growing unrest in the realm,” Mike warned. “Danger lurks around every corner.”

“Are you threatening me?”
Unbelievable
. His uncle appeared the picture of innocence, yet sat there negotiating for Daria’s life. He didn’t need to use the uprising in Hell as an excuse.

Mike chuckled and stood as well. “Of course not. Daria’s the auspicious one. She’s always had her own guardian angel.”

Jason scoffed, “The only guardian angel she’s had is me. I’ve been the only one watching her and protecting her all these years. Whoever you assigned is clearly lax on the job. I—”

The words died on his lips and realization knocked the breath out of him. He stumbled to the door, needing to put some space between them. “All those years ago . . .”

Mike held his eyes steady, unperturbed by his implied accusation. “I merely suggested to your father it was a good way to redeem yourself. You’ve always been such an idealist, Jason. I knew you would fall in love with Daria as you did Alice.”

The truth behind how he came to protect Daria and the fulfillment of Mike’s overconfident prophecy threatened to bring Jason to his knees. He stared at his uncle with new eyes. Had the angel always been this calculating?

The last twenty-eight years now seemed nothing more than a careful path laid out by Mike. How many other times had his uncle encroached, or manipulated to get his way? Was this what it was like in Heaven? Always an invisible, overhanging, heavy hand that dictated the fate of others?

Perhaps his father was right to rebel.

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