Dark Hope (The Devil's Assistant) (22 page)

He glared at me.

“It’s some sort of astral projection—I guess. I don’t know. I can go places, outside my body. Mab can sense me, she knew I was there.”

“Why didn’t she prevent it?” he asked in Pagan.

“How the hell should I know,” I answered without thinking.
Shit
.

“I see Father gave you all the company perks. I’m sorry, but you won’t be allowed to keep those.” He turned my head to the right. I could barely make out what he spoke, as he whispered something in my left ear. I hadn’t understood the words, but I think they were in Pagan. After glancing at my face, he rotated my head to the left. This time I clearly heard the English translation of, “Can you hear me now?” that he whispered into my right ear in Pagan.

His eyes narrowed on me. I saw the light flash in the violet depths as he realized I’d understood. “The right ear, then.” As he held my head steady, he chanted a swirl of words in Ancient.

I tried to pull away, but his firm grip kept me in place. I jumped as he slammed his cupped hand over my right ear. A shock wave reverberated through my ear canal, creating a high-pitched sound that burned as it bounced off my eardrum. I screamed and cursed at the top of my lungs. I clawed at Mace’s arms, digging my nails into his biceps. It wasn’t until the noise in my head died down that the searing pain of the electric shocks from the bracelets forced me to drop my hands.

Mace shoved me away. “You will have nothing of my father’s,” he muttered.

“Fuck you.” I leaned against the door, numb with shock from the throbbing pain in my ear. I couldn’t hear anything out of my right ear. The translator was gone. I closed my eyes and stepped out of my body. Mace was staring at me.

He reached over, running his finger down my arm. My body tensed. “It’s time,” he said.

Time
? I opened my eyes, returning to my body. “Time for what?”

“It’s time to take your love away.”

“Please don’t hurt Jack. He doesn’t deserve it. He knows nothing about this world.”

Mace laughed so hard his body shook. “You may not want him after I’m done.”

I drew my eyebrows together.

“You must suffer the loss. It wouldn’t be a very good lesson otherwise. Although, once the facts are known, you may thank me for saving you.”

“Don’t do this. You have me. Leave him alone. Please. I’m begging you.”

“I’m actually surprised you like him so much, then again most of Father’s servants do their jobs well.”

“What?” Jack was the only normal thing in my life. He didn’t work for The Boss. “You’re lying.”

Coldly Mace said, “Do you actually think Father would let you pick your own boyfriend? Some random guy he couldn’t control?” He gripped my wrist and painlessly ignited The Boss’s mark. “Protected by, remember?”

I yanked my arm away. “The Boss wouldn’t do that.” Even as I said it, I doubted my own words. “You’re lying,” I said weakly.

His grin widened. “You really didn’t know,” he said in mock wonder. “You never even suspected.”

Lips pressed flat, I refused to play his twisted game. I’d never believe him. I knew what Jack and I had. It wasn’t fake. The Boss wouldn’t—

“He’s been scripting your life since the day you were born. Do you think it was chance that you were never adopted, that you were always in foster care? He couldn’t risk you actually getting a family who might love you.”

Mace was trying to twist it all around. He wanted me to think everything that had ever happened to me was because of the Devil. Mace was lying. This hell started five years ago, and Jack wasn’t part of it.

“I can see you aren’t convinced, but you will be soon,” Mace said.

The driver said something I could no longer interpret.

“Good, we’re almost there.”

I looked around, but we were just on some random street in Underworld.

Mace was lying. He had to be. Jack was real, not some demon from Hell hired by The Boss to be my boyfriend.

I stared out at the changing landscape. We were zipping through a part of town I’d never been to before. Mace shifted forward and said something to the driver. A few minutes later, the driver parked outside a pub. The Fire Pit. He went inside and yanked out a young demon.

I gasped. My mouth dropped open. “No,” I said. I turned away, tears stinging my eyes. I didn’t want to see Mace’s proof.

Mace clasped my head between his hands and forced me to stare at Jack. “I said I would take everything away,” he said. “How am I doing so far?”

A tingling sensation began in my chest. My breathing became labored, and my stomach hardened into a tight knot. Hot spikes of pain shot through the right side of my head as my damaged ear strained to work. “That’s not him. This is a trick.”

Mace chuckled. “Trust me, that’s him.”

The bracelet on my right arm tingled, but I wasn’t touching anyone. I glanced down. Tiny hair thin wisps of white energy were sparking off the metal.

“What the hell,” Mace said, releasing me and looking down at my wrist. “Stop it.”

Hot pressure pushed against my eyes. The wisps of current crackled around the band like burning flames.

“Stop.” Mace commanded. “Turn it off.” He grabbed my hand, then dropped it just as quickly.

I hadn’t felt the shock that time, but it looked like he had. Narrowing my eyes, I raised my hand to use as a weapon.

He held his hands up as if blocking me, but also afraid to touch me. I lunged for him. I slammed my hand against his chest. He clamped his mouth shut, refusing to scream. The bracelets were doing to him what they’d been doing to me, and it had to hurt.

“How does that feel you bastard,” I yelled as I kept my hand against his chest. Catching a flash of something green, I stared into his eyes. I looked closer, only to realize it was a reflection of the shine on my eyes. My hand slipped as my power drained. The green shine on my eyes flickered, then went out.

My body went cold. I shivered and shook as Mace threw me off him.

“You bitch,” he spat, rubbing his chest. “He’s dead now.”

“No,” I pleaded through chattering teeth. “I’m sorry.” I wasn’t sorry, but I didn’t want him to hurt Jack. “I won’t do that again.” I had no idea how I’d done it this time, so that really wouldn’t be a hard promise to keep.

I turned back to look out the window. I was numb, shaking with cold like a junky needing a fix. Jack was—everything. He still appeared to be my Jack, but with my new ability, I could sense he was a demon. I closed my eyes and stepped outside my body.

I was on the sidewalk now. Standing beside him. I wanted him to wrap me in his arms and tell me everything would be okay. Jack and the driver were arguing. I couldn’t understand anything they were saying. I glanced back. The car windows were tinted; he couldn’t see me.

“I love you,” I said.

Jack looked back toward me. The driver roughly nudged his shoulder to get his attention. They argued a minute more before Jack was thrown back inside the pub.

I opened my eyes, wiping away a few tears. I still felt shaky and drained, but I wasn’t as cold. Mace was pissed, but he didn’t send the driver back to the bar for Jack.

I sank down in the seat as the car pulled away from the curb.

“I want a thank you,” Mace said, breaking the silence.

“Thank you,” I said, without hesitation.

He chuckled. “Oh, no sweetheart. It’ll take more than that for his life.”

“What?”

“I want
you
to fuck
me
.”

I swallowed past the lump in my throat.
Fuck him, here
? I eyed the driver. “I can’t—”

“Calm yourself, Claire, not here. I want more room to move when you finally take your turn.”

I wanted to throw up.

“For now, I’ll just take a kiss, and make sure you mean it. I can tell.”

I hesitated. I wouldn’t want Jack kissing another girl. I guess I was splitting hairs. I’d already kissed him once, and I would have done more if he’d let me. But that was while I was drugged.

Yeah, I’m not sure that matters
.

“Does the driver need to turn around, Claire?”

“No.” I took a deep breath, licked my dry lips, and slid over to Mace.

He stayed still.

Right, I was supposed to kiss him. Channeling the lovesick, nothing to lose, drug-crazed Claire from last night, I snaked my hands through his hair and roughly pulled his lips down to mine. I shoved my tongue in his mouth, and yanked his hair harder than necessary.

He groaned, moving to hold me in place.

I pushed him away and scooted back to my side. Fire burned in his eyes at being shortchanged.

“You said you wanted me to mean it. Well, that was all your kiss meant to me.”

Snarling, he said, “You’ll do better when we’re alone, or I’ll hunt down that worthless demon you think you love and make you watch as I rip out his heart, and trust me when I say I mean it.”

I looked away. I could see the conviction in his eyes.

Thankfully, Mace took out his smart phone and ignored me for the rest of the trip.

I leaned my head against the window, trying to ignore the throbbing pain in my right ear.

The car stopped outside a large brick building. I glanced around, but there wasn’t much to see. The shop across the street sold Harleys, and the one beside the warehouse sold surf and ski equipment. A demon was coming out of the Harley store. He flipped the sign to closed and locked the door. It was still early, but the fight was tonight. Every business downtown would be closed within a few hours.

Mace dragged me out of the car, keeping a firm hold on my elbow. He guided me toward the entrance of the blacksmith’s shop.

A very large, very wide druid, between seven and eight feet tall, was pounding out a length of metal. After a few more strikes of the hammer, he dropped the formed metal into a vat of oil. He drew another sword from the forge. It appeared child sized in his large hand. It was clear he had no intention of helping us.

The narrow room was made of stone. Large extended hooks hung from the wooden beams running along the ceiling. Sturdy tables and benches lined the walls. Two large anvils bordered the enormous forge, which took up more than six square feet of floor space. Piles of wood were stacked along the back wall, and everything had a metallic burnt smell.

Weapons of every type hung on the walls. Raw materials and half-finished pieces were haphazardly stacked around the room. At least it was an organized mess.

“I said no.” The woman’s voice came from the office to our right.

Mace turned us to face her. She was not at all what I had expected. She was smaller than me by at least half a foot. Her slender petite frame appeared dainty—almost fragile. She had long silvery hair with ribbons of black, gold, red, and brown running through it. The streaks weren’t manmade, they were natural. Surprisingly they weren’t the oddest thing about her appearance. She had two different colored eyes, which might not have been obvious if one were brown and the other hazel, but one was red and one was bright blue.

I lowered my gaze when she fixed both her eyes on me.

“Are you sure we can’t come to some sort of an arrangement?” Mace asked. They were both speaking English, but I’m sure it wasn’t for my benefit. She wasn’t a demon or a pagan or a druid for that matter. I didn’t know what she was, but clearly they had no common language.

She was staring at Mace again, but I could tell she wasn’t impressed. Her upturned nose said she wasn’t scared of him either. He was no concern to her, and she had no interest in trading with him.

A drop of something wet hit my shoulder. I looked over. Blood. The entire left side of my head was numb, and I hadn’t realized my ear was bleeding.

I flinched as she wiped off the drop of blood, bringing her fingertip to her nose to smell. She then licked it off her finger as if it were frosting.

Her eyes widened, and she circled me. “What is she?” the woman asked. “A gift?”

I sidled closer to Mace. He chuckled. I ignored him. I didn’t want this blood-loving whatever sinking her claws into me.

“She’s human and not for sale.”

“Human, hardly,” she scoffed.

“She bears the Demon King’s mark,” Mace said, as if that explained it.

He had no clue—neither did I, but the blacksmith seemed to know something.

“Why have you brought her here if I can’t have her?”

“She belongs to me,” he said. “I’m here to see if you have reconsidered my offer.”

“Interesting,” she said, studying me. “You have a new offer, but it’s not the girl.” She smirked, turning her cold eyes back to him. “I’ll give you what you want for two quarts of her blood.”

“No,” I said, finding my voice. There were only five quarts in the human body. Two quarts—four times the amount normally taken during blood donation—would be too much.

Mace touched my face, running his finger along the outside of my right eye. He watched me. “Interesting,” he said as if he saw something unexpected. He glanced back at the blacksmith, then back to me. “Interesting, indeed,” he murmured.

“Do we have a deal?”

“No,” I said again, this time more firm.

Mace wrapped his will around me. “Yes.”

“It must be given willingly,” the blacksmith said.

I shook my head. Hell no.

“What a pity.”

Mace leaned close. “This for Jack’s life.”

I held his gaze for a moment. He was offering me an opportunity to change our deal. I suppose if the excessive blood loss didn’t kill me than at least I didn’t have to willingly sleep with Mace. Not so sure this was a win, win, but it was a better bargain. I nodded once.

The blacksmith clapped her hands. “Goodie. Follow me.”

I stopped short when she led me toward a macabre-looking dentist’s chair, circa 1920’s insane asylum. The chair had more straps attached to it than padding. Mace nudged me forward. Reluctantly I laid down on the chair and tried not to freak out as she buckled me in.

Mace was standing near enough to touch, but he was busy texting and not paying attention to me. I could hear the woman off to the side, but I couldn’t see what she was doing until she wheeled a hospital-style tray over to my trapped body. I eyed the needles as she hung the collection bags at the base of the chair.