Blood In The Stars (9 page)

His hand cupped her breast and he bent forward to trail kisses along her skin. He was avoiding her question and trying to distract her. But suddenly she didn’t care. She’d get it out of him sooner or later.

She slid her hands down his stomach, caressing the line of muscles, basking in the raw strength of his body. He flipped her to her back and kissed his way down her torso, pausing to thrust his tongue into her navel, before moving between her legs. He bent her left leg and nuzzled her tender core before suckling her. Her hips arched with pleasure.

“I want you,” she gasped between breaths, her hands clenching his hair.

Raw pain lanced his face. He turned away. “We can’t.”

Her heart pounded against her chest and she moved to kneel beside him, turning his face to hers. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“They’d know.”

Daria froze. “What?” she asked, aghast. She whirled around, searching for hidden cameras in her house. Or could supernatural creatures see through walls? She narrowed her eyes and lowered her voice. “
Who
would know?”

Jason sighed and raked his hand through his hair. He stepped off the bed and grasped her around the waist to set her on her feet. “We should get dressed.”

She opened her mouth to protest but Jason had already turned his back to pick up their clothes from the floor. A pang stung her heart. Was everything he had done just part of his duty in protecting her? Like a romp in bed? A fling?

He straightened and she noticed a black mark on his left shoulder. She squinted, trying to see what it was. A tattoo? Birthmark?

When she reached for the clothes in his hand, ready to run to the bathroom in humiliation, he instead began to help her dress. “Let me keep taking care of you,” he begged softly.

His gentle hands slipped the clothes over her head and his eyes remained tender. His body testified to his desire but for some reason unknown to her, he wouldn’t have her. The hollow pit in her stomach grew. Yet, seeing how he had to resist his obvious need, she forgave him his silence.

After they had both dressed, he took her hand and led her out to the living room. They stood there for a few seconds, neither saying anything, and she was again struck by how young he appeared. But she knew he couldn’t be young. Not if he had saved her all those years ago.

“How old are you?” she asked, abruptly suspicious.

He raised his eyes to the ceiling as if the numbers were written there. “Probably much too old for you,” he replied with a chuckle. He tilted his head to tease, “If I tell you I’m a crotchety old geezer, will you be nicer and spoon-feed me?”

Daria poked him in the ribs and he laughed, swinging her to face him. He linked his hands around her waist. “I know we’ve only gone out twice. But given the circumstances, would it be too forward of me if I asked to spend the night? So I can watch over you?”

A twinkle glinted in his eye but she knew his question was serious. He asked so formally yet hesitantly, as if worried he sounded too pushy. An ache stabbed her as she recalled her first impression of his picture and the desolation she had noticed. Some of that desolation had just reappeared.

He was lonely, too. Daria nodded.

He grinned. “I just need to go pick up some clothes.”

“Wait a second.” Her mind reeled at what he said. “Are you asking to move in?”

Jason’s eyes widened in innocence and she felt like an idiot. Apparently that was what he meant, but in her stupidity she’d had no idea. Staring into his golden gaze, she saw nothing but patience as he waited for her answer.

Though they both knew what she’d say, he respected her enough to hear her say it. Daria didn’t even know why she felt so comfortable with him. She knew only that she trusted him. If Jason was the only thing standing between her and monsters, she would gladly trust him.

Daria nodded a second time.

“I don’t want you out of my sight. Come with me?”

Every word he spoke sent a tingle through her body. Was he was trying to make her fall for him with his charm, consideration, and kindness? If so, then how devious. If she really let him have his way, she’d never want to be without him. Then where would she be?

“Sure,” she croaked. She couldn’t talk anymore. Better to stay silent. If Jason kept saying such sweet things to her, she might betray her feelings and leave herself even more vulnerable.

To her surprise, he didn’t go to the front door. “Let me show you a different way to travel.”

That was all the warning she got. The next thing she knew, her body whisked away as though on a high-speed train. A second later, she stood in a dark room. The lights flipped on and Jason smiled at her. “Make yourself at home. I’ll be quick.”

Amazing. He truly wasn’t human. Yet the thought didn’t scare her. He wouldn’t have been able to save her so many times if he were a normal human.

Daria sat down on his black leather couch and noted the modern décor with the barest of furniture. Definitely a bachelor’s pad. How many women had sat here before?

She squelched the destructive thought. Not good to think like that. And what did it matter? He was here with her now.

“I still have a lot of questions,” she reminded him when he emerged with a round duffel bag and another long black bag that seemed big enough to hold a rifle.

A tangible wariness seemed to surround him. So many questions deluged her mind, yet only one kept surfacing; one centered on her ego.

“Let’s go back first while you think of your questions.” He took her hand.

He stepped through a shadow and suddenly they were back at her condo. That was certainly one way to avoid the traffic hour. He placed his bags in the corner and waited patiently for her to ask her questions. But she couldn’t ask why he protected her. Was it only for duty? If he said ‘yes,’ her heart might break. If it broke again, would she be able to find all the pieces to glue together?

The emotional struggle must have shown on her face, for he stepped closer and laid a soft kiss on her lips. His eyes searched hers and as though he read her thoughts, he murmured, “For twenty-seven years I have watched over you, Daria. Those have been the happiest years of my life. And if you’ll let me, I’ll spend the rest of my life protecting you.”

“That sounds like a really long time,” she whispered.

“It wouldn’t be worth living without you.”

Jason ran his fingers through Daria’s hair. She had fallen asleep beside him more than an hour ago. He smiled at the catch in her breath.

He had intended to sleep on the couch or in her spare bedroom. But as they stood in the living room, loath to part from each other, they had meandered back to her bedroom, and fallen into each other’s arms again.

His heart ached with torment when she wasn’t with him. Daria would think him a fool if he told her. So he didn’t, the sweet torture his alone to savor. He knew she didn’t feel much for him beyond simple attraction. Just as he knew she had reacted to him in the physical sense only. It was too early for her to develop any feelings for him. He sighed and pressed a kiss to her hair. He couldn’t help but wish she could love him.

Sinking into bed, he laced his arms around her and in her sleep she turned to snuggle closer to him. She felt absolutely perfect in his arms. No one could claim otherwise. She was his. Would always be his. He’d never let anyone take her away from him.

That’s what you thought about Alice.

The betrayal skidded to the forefront of his mind and he forcefully pushed it away. But it didn’t stop the ache from growing like cancer in his chest.

He heard a pinging sound from the kitchen and he stiffened. Jason glanced down at the precious bundle in his arms and gently eased out of bed, careful not to wake her.

Strange. He wasn’t expecting a message. He went to the kitchen and opened the oven. Sure enough, an envelope rested inside.

He glanced briefly at the addressee before tearing it open.

I’ll swing by the office tomorrow.

A

His stomach twisted into knots and his entire body cringed. Alastor. A satisfying slicing sound filled the air as he ripped the letter into tiny little bits before throwing it into the trash.

Alastor always had impeccable timing. They needed to talk. It was about time they got things out in the open. His brother never failed to exploit Jason’s emotions. Why should he behave any differently now? What better moment than after Daria had learned the truth of the danger closing in on her?

He would never let Alastor have her.

Chapter 8

“You’re meeting with Hellerman today?” Jason asked nervously.

They had woken an hour ago in each other’s arms. After languid kisses and butterfly caresses, they had reluctantly risen from bed so she could get ready for work. While he was in the shower, Daria had brewed coffee and prepared a light breakfast of toast and yogurt.

She glanced up from her mug of coffee as he entered the kitchen and nodded, waiting with raised brows.

“You need to be careful today.” He picked his words so as not to scare her. “Damien is a demon.”

Her hands froze, cup halfway to her mouth. She blinked. “A
real
demon. Like John?”

He wasn’t sure what she meant by ‘real’ demon, but if there was a difference, Damien was as real as they came.

“Remember when I told you there were three Houses? Damien is from the House of Demons.”

She chewed on her lip in thought and then got up from the dining table to put her mug into the sink. “Maybe I’ll take a leave after today’s meeting.”

“You’re still planning to go to work?” He had hoped to deter her from going at all. He should have known it wouldn’t have made a difference. She was too driven.

Daria turned back to him and a small smile lit her face. “We’ll be meeting at the office where there are tons of people. It’ll be fine.” She sauntered over and placed her hands on his shoulders. “Are you always such a worrywart?”

When it came to Daria? Absolutely. But he didn’t say it aloud.

“Besides, I still need to pay the bills.” She grabbed her purse. “I can take a short vacation after this project, but I need to see it through.” Daria paused as she reached for her shoes. “It’s never going to stop, is it?”

He couldn’t see her face and he wondered if she hid from him on purpose. She stood absolutely still, pumps dangling from her fingers. Suddenly, she seemed to recover and whirled around with a smile that seemed a little too bright and cheery.

“Ready?”

Jason nodded. They talked of the weather and Chicago on their walk to work. She told him about some office gossip and they acted like any other couple. But they weren’t. She was the auspicious one and he was her protector.

When they got to their building, he handed her the files and warned her again to be careful. “You can trust Miller.”

She furrowed her brow at his declaration though she didn’t ask questions.

“Call me when you’re done with the meeting.”

And she was off, racing to catch the elevator. Jason sighed, wishing he had explained more last night and this morning. Last night he had been too caught up in the feel of Daria next to him, to reveal more than only the most important details. This morning, he had been too worried about his own demons. Miller would take care of Daria. He was sure of it.

His feet dragged as if weighted with anchors as he moved toward the elevator. Even his body wished to delay the inevitable meeting with his brother. They hadn’t spoken a word to each other in five hundred years. Ever since he lost Alice. He hadn’t spoken to his father, either. The only communiqué he had received from his father was his assignment to watch over Daria. And even that had been twenty-seven years ago. Through oven mail.

Jason switched on the lights and trudged to his office, not surprised at all to find his brother sitting in the leather chair behind the imposing office desk. Alastor appeared the same as everyone in his family did after they hit their first century mark. From there, they stopped aging. So, for the last few centuries, Alastor carried the same golden blond hair and sky blue eyes without a speck of gray or a line of wrinkle.

Most of his family preferred to wear black and Alastor was no different today, wearing a black tee and black slacks. They seemed too stark against his brother’s fair coloring. But there was a reason he was their father’s ‘golden child.’ After all, Alastor and their father resembled each other strongly, with their square jaw line and Greek nose. Only Jason looked different from the rest of the family.

“I was wondering if you were ever going to start work,” Alastor scolded.

No greeting. No comment about how it had been centuries since they had last seen each other. Nothing. Just a derisive remark. One Jason didn’t plan on answering.

He refused to perch in front of his desk as though a guest in someone else’s office. Instead, Jason sat on the small leather loveseat facing the window.

They said nothing for a minute and Jason watched the El chug by on the metal tracks, the steady clang of the train smoothing out the strands of his unfurling, thinning patience. It hadn’t always been like this. Jason remembered a time when he was on good terms with his brother. Looked up to him. He couldn’t pinpoint the exact event when things had changed.

But what was the use in dwelling? It was too late to undo the past.

When he could avoid it no longer, Jason asked, “What are you doing here?”

“She’s near maturation. I can smell her.” Then Alastor paused. “I don’t recall ever smelling Alice.”

Jason’s jaw clenched but he didn’t respond. He wouldn’t give his brother that satisfaction.

“Have you proposed to Daria yet? The same way you did to Alice?”

Jason’s blood froze, the only way to explain the coldness in his bones, the frigid emptiness that coursed through his veins.

When he remained silent, Alastor smirked. “I don’t think you’d want to marry Daria, anyway. She’s not nearly as pretty as Alice. Lovely golden hair, if I recall correctly. It
has
been over five hundred years. My memory might be a little rusty.”

“Don’t,” Jason grated.

He didn’t want to think about Alice, yet unlike last night, he couldn’t shove the memory out of his mind. It rose from the depths of buried crevices he had long ago hidden away. It had taken years—no, centuries—to submerge the past. Now everyone wanted to resurrect the pain.

“She always wore the most beautiful gowns. English, right? And from a noble family. What was it again? Some earl or another? She—”

In one motion, Jason whipped out his sword and stood. “Stop.” He tried to swallow the lump of anguish in his throat and failed. It grew, choking him. “Please.”

Alastor eyed the length of the blade for a brief second before smiling. “I have one too, you know.”

“Don’t say any more. Don’t utter her name. Don’t speak of her at all. You have no right.”

Jason stood there, sword drawn, reliving the awful minutes leading up to Alice’s death. He recalled the candlelight flicker in her chambers when he promised to take her away from all the horrors, how they would escape her burden as the auspicious one.

Then they had come. Five shadowed demons entered the room. Four surrounded him while the fifth, their leader, grabbed Alice by the hair. Jason had fought them with the same sword he carried now. But when given the chance to take their lives, he had hesitated. And the battle changed to their favor, leading to her downfall.

Jason sucked in a ragged breath. The demons had held him back, making him watch as Balthazar, their leader, taunted Alice. And as they knocked him out, she had screamed his name.

Days later, Balthazar led an uprising in Hell. The ruling demon family fought back and a bloody civil war ensued. Rumors that Balthazar had already gained the auspicious one’s powers spread through the realm. But it wasn’t enough. Balthazar was killed and near him the body of a human was found.

Jason had gone to Hell to verify the bodies. The blackened, unrecognizable mess had told him nothing. Yet on the body of the woman was an ash-covered pendant he had once given Alice as a token of his affection.

Alastor stood, wrenching Jason’s attention back to the present. His brother quirked his head in curiosity. “Would you kill me if I spoke of her? Because that’s what it’s going to take.”

Jason’s grip tightened on his sword. “It doesn’t have to come to that.”

“Oh, but it does. I’m trying to save you from an eternity of unhappiness.”

“Is that why you weren’t there that night?” Jason spat. “You were trying to
save
me?”

Their father had assigned Alastor to protect Alice, to act as backup. But when the time came, his brother had disappeared. And Alice had paid the price.

“She was
your
charge.” Alastor’s voice frosted over. “You weren’t allowed to marry her anyway.”

“I loved her,” Jason bit out.

At that, Alastor gave Jason a satisfied grin. “But you couldn’t save her, could you? Because you can’t dirty your hands.”

An awful prick of shame pierced each pore of his skin, stretching it taut with pain. Jason’s arm dropped and he turned away, sheathing his sword through the folds of space.

“You were devastated when you lost Alice. I imagine you won’t be nearly as sad when Daria dies.”

His brother goaded him, but Jason barely heard the words.

Alastor was right. Alice died because he couldn’t—no, wouldn’t—dirty his hands. And even now, he didn’t know if he could.

“Nothing has changed. It’s exactly as I told you five hundred years ago. If you want to marry the auspicious one, you’ll have to kill me first.” Alastor produced a devilish smile, his words pouring more salt into an already gaping, pulsing wound.

Jason hadn’t been able to kill the demons. He certainly couldn’t kill his brother. And Alastor knew that.

“Well, if we’re done here, I have some errands I need to run,” Alastor announced.

“What do you have to do?” Jason hissed. “She is the last auspicious one left in the world. Don’t you want to protect her? Keep her alive?” He glared at his brother. “So you can compete with me?”

The smile disappeared and Alastor’s angelic face immediately took on a derisive cast. He rounded the desk and stepped toward Jason. Then with one knee on the coffee table, Alastor leaned in close, lips curling in disdain.

“You forget.
You’re
the one competing with
me
. You also forget that so long as we kill whomever kills the auspicious one, our House continues to rule. Saving the auspicious one is unnecessary.” Alastor crossed his arms over his chest and stared at Jason in a way he didn’t understand. “The only person who cares to keep her alive, is you.”

With that little reminder, Alastor disappeared into the shadows.

The moment Daria entered the conference room, she knew exactly who called the shots. Even in heels that stretched her petite height to five-six, she was still a far cry from the towering Damien Hellerman. The man stood at least six-six with a barrel chest and broad shoulders that rivaled a football player. He was a giant.

Daria cleared her throat. And reminded herself he was also a demon.

“Daria Mathews,” she introduced herself, sticking out her hand.

His meaty paw swallowed hers in a firm handshake and when he began pumping her arm up and down, Daria thought she’d lose the limb from the abuse.

“Great to meet all of you,” Damien bellowed, shaking one hand after another.

Maybe he didn’t bellow. His voice projected from the diaphragm out his mouth to resonate off the walls. Damien seemed to have a big personality. Probably too big for her to handle.

Damien is a demon.
Yet he looked ordinary enough to her. Of course, Jason looked normal, too. She sent him a wary glance. Based on sheer size, Damien personified ‘scary.’ She suddenly wished Jason were with her or had at least told her what to do about Damien.

The partner motioned for everyone to sit down at the conference table. Before anyone moved, Damien threw out a sidelong smile. “I don’t think you need to be here, Chuck.”

Mr. Burke gaped at Damien. “I can handle it with Miller and Daria,” Damien added.

Mr. Burke blinked and straightened.

“You can leave now, Chuck. You may contact me in two weeks to see if you received the business.”

“Yes. Yes, of course,” Mr. Burke murmured, scooping up his things from the table. “I don’t need to be here. You can handle it with Miller and Daria.”

Daria began to protest when she suddenly noticed Mr. Burke’s eyes. Glazed and unfocused, they stared at nothing as he left the conference room, as if he didn’t even know she and Miller along with their client still stood there waiting.

Was this the power of a demon? Would she start seeing tails and pitchforks next? Her heart thumped and she turned to Miller for support.

He had crossed his arms in front of his chest and glowered at their client. “Was that really necessary?” Miller asked.

Damien laughed, the deep tenor enveloping the room and thickening the air. She found it hard to breathe and stood closer to her colleague.

Damien is a demon.

Those four words taunted her with its never-ending chant. What did that mean, exactly? What could a demon do?

Kill me!

The thought sent chills dancing up her spine. Part of her wanted to bolt. Her eyes darted to the door. She wouldn’t get far.

“It’s gorgeous outside,” Damien declared. He strode closer to them and it took every ounce of willpower for her to stand her ground. He leaned in to stare down at her. “It’s very nice to meet you, Daria.”

“Nice . . . to meet you too, Mr. Hellerman.” She swallowed hard. He gazed at her as though ogling a fish tank, his eyes wide and curious.

“Cut the crap,” Miller spat. “I’m warning you.”

“Oooh. I’m so scared.” Damien waved his hands mockingly and the thick arms and snickering face made him seem like a big gorilla.

Gorillas could kill her, too.

He strode away and stared out the window. “Do you guys live around here?”

“You know where I live,” Miller retorted.

“And you, Daria?”