Only You (The Mephisto Covenant Series) (9 page)

Shaken to my bones and seriously d
isturbed, my mind took my thoughts from Point A to Point B to Mariah not liking to be touched to Mariah waking up in abject terror. Had Emilian done more than hit her? My gut seized up, and I drank more of the beer, this time not for appearances.

Now I got why K
ey had been on the verge of crying.

Gustav
plunged his hands back into the water and washed more mugs. “Kind of turned into a hobby of mine, looking after her. I’d sure hate to find out you don’t treat her right, if you happen to run into her again.”

Remembering how I’d acted at dinner last night, I wanted to kick my own ass. “Do I look like a guy who wouldn’t treat her right?”

“Sure do.”

“Fair enough, but I’m not a guy who beats up girls.”
Without my asking for it, he took my mug and topped it off. I liked Gustav. I was glad he and his mother had been there for Mariah.

I took the risk of saying the wrong thing in hopes of getting more information from him. “Mariah used to talk about going to school. Is she taking classes while she wor
ks here?”

“Not yet, but my fiancé, Sophia, is helping her get her application together for university.” He grinned at me. “I told her how to dress and how to act to get
tips from these guys who drink my beer. Mostly nobody tips in Romania. But she’s doing all right, and I expect she’ll have saved up enough to start school next year. How about you? Are you in school?”

I was always in school. We had Luminas whose only job was to teach us what we didn’t know, and in the last hundred years, there was more and more we didn’t know. But I shook my head at Gustav. “I’m doing some
charity work at the moment.”

“Huh. Didn’t figure you for a do-gooder. What kind of charity?”

“I guess you could say I do clean-up work for God.” And Lucifer.

“I see. A religious man.”

Some other time, that would have been funny.

He’d finished washing the mugs and was now concentrating on clearing dishes from the bar. “Might not want to talk too much about God to Mariah.”

“Has she lost her religion?”

“
Not for me to say, but she never goes to mass. Sophia asks her all the time, but she says she’s too busy.”

An Anabo who never went to a
place of worship? They were drawn to churches and synagogues and mosques. After his redemption, Jax had gone all over the world with Sasha to all sorts of spiritual havens, including a shaman’s hut in the Amazon. To an Anabo, the doctrine made no difference. If it was a place for God by any name, they were compelled to be there on a regular basis to refill the well.

But Mariah avoided
mass.

And she was afraid of the police.

Had she started the fire? Had she killed Emilian? Was he a lost soul? His behavior indicated he was, but humans who weren’t lost souls were just as capable of evil. If he wasn’t lost, and Mariah killed him . . .
impossible
. No matter how far removed she was from the Anabo inside of her, she couldn’t kill someone who still belonged to God.

But what if she did?

It’d cause more pain than she could endure. She’d either go mad or lose Anabo. She had already lost most of her light, and her eyes were somewhere between blue and gray.

Did Kyros know all of this?

Forcing my mind to leave it alone for now, I asked, “Does Sophia work here?”

“God, no. She’s a teacher
. Smart girl, my Sophie.” His smile was wry. “But maybe not that smart, since she said she’d marry me, eh?”

“I think she’
ll do okay.” I drained the beer and set the mug down. “Thanks, Gustav.”

“My pleasure. If you’re around next week, come back and Mariah will be here.”

“Yeah, I’ll do that.” I slid from the stool and walked toward the door, erasing his memory of me as soon as I was outside.

~~ Mariah ~~

Viorica was extremely upset and trying hard to hide it when she took me back to Colorado. We’d barely gotten to the pink bedroom when she gave me a transparently fake smile and said way too brightly, “Well, here we are! I’ll just call Mathilda to come up and . . .” Her finger was already on the button. “Mathilda, could you come to Mariah’s room, please?” She stepped back from the plastic box and kept her gaze away from mine.

“Viorica, are you crying?”

She turned to me, blinking rapidly, and smiled harder. “Of course not.” She folded her arms across her chest as if to stop herself from fidgeting. “I’m going to find Key so we can go back and get that guy, then I have to go home and dress for school. I’ll be back tonight and we’ll look at the pictures.”

Mathilda appeared next to the fire
place, her expression creased with worry. “What’s happened?”

Viorica swallowed so hard I heard it, then said in that same
too-bright voice, “We went to Mariah’s apartment to get a photo album, and while we were there, a lost soul busted in. He went after Mariah and I knocked him out, so Key and I have to take care of him.”

Take care of him.
They were going to kill him. I backed up and sat on the end of the bed. “Do you have to? Can’t we just let him leave on his own? He’ll come around eventually, and go get medical help.” They both looked at me as if I’d just suggested we lob a nuclear bomb on a nursery school. “What’s the point in killing the man? I’m fine. He didn’t hurt me.”

“Mariah, didn’t you
understand what I told you earlier? This is all the Mephisto do, all they’ve done for centuries. If we let the lost die and release their souls to Eryx, he gets that much stronger. Nobody knows when he’ll decide he’s ready, but the day he declares open war on Lucifer, the world will be thrown into mass chaos. He’s still tied to Earth. His war has to be fought here, and it won’t be like any war we’ve ever seen. It’ll be everywhere and catastrophic. Millions will suffer.”

“Who’s to say he’d win? Maybe it’s time to let him go, let him declare war and be defeated.
He can’t beat Lucifer and God.”

“God wouldn’t be involved. This is all about who controls Hell.”

“Of course God would be involved. He wouldn’t let so many suffer.”

“
They suffer now, Mariah.”

I felt a little like I’d been slapped and looked down at
the thin photo book and my tiny bundle of clothes, most of what I owned. “Yes,” I agreed, “they do.”

“It’s all about Original Sin and free will
. There’s a dark side to humanity, but they can choose to live above it. If Eryx were in control, he wouldn’t care how a person lived their life – they’d be doomed to Hell from birth. No one would try, and the world would self-destruct.”

She was so passionate and righteous and completely sure of what she was saying, I admired her enormously, even though I didn’t agree.
I raised my head. “Maybe everyone has a dark side, but I don’t think they rise above it to escape Hell. Some people are compassionate and selfless because they love others, and it has nothing to do with some spiritual race for Heaven.” Her frustration with me was clear, but I needed to say this. “Even if they know Hell is waiting, they’ll love others just the same, and when they get to Hell, they’ll
still
love others. Maybe they’ll make Hell obsolete. Maybe that would be the silver lining if Eryx were to win his war.”

She gave up trying not to cry. With fat tears spilling over, she said in a surprisingly strong voice, “Who are you talking about, Mariah? Who are these selfless people? Because everyone I know, even the kindest, warmest
, most generous people, have their moments of rage and vengeance and jealousy.” Turning away, she said to the silk draperies covering the window, “You believe what you believe because you see the world through the filter of who you are. You think others are like you, but they’re not.”

“I’m human. I have a dark side. And there’s a chance I’ll be heading south on the day I die, but that doesn’t make me want to give up on humanity.”

Viorica swiped at her tears and said softly, “I love you, Mariah. I will never be angry with you, never doubt you, never let anything bad happen to you. Do you believe me?”

I stood and went to her and pulled her close. “I’m the big sister, remember?”

She squeezed me tight around the waist and mumbled into my shoulder, “Let me be that for you, just for a while.”

I petted her hair and said, “Only if you stop crying. You’re getting snot all over my
best work blouse.”

She leaned back and smiled at me
. “I’ll see you tonight.” Then she stepped away and disappeared.

Mathilda reached for my bundle I’d left on the bed and undid the belt holding it together. “I hope ye brought more unmentionables, Miss Mariah. Ah, I see ye did. Gracious, child, these have holes.”

I almost made a joke about Holy Panties, but decided not to when I realized Mathilda was also crying.

There was some subtext here that I couldn’t read and didn’t understand.
I was just going to have to pay closer attention.

~~ Phoenix ~~

I needed to think. My mind worked better when my hands were occupied, but going home to the shop to work on a bike wasn’t an option. I popped to
Harrods in London, bought clothes and a leather bag, mostly for appearances, then checked into a Mayfair suite at Claridge’s. After an enormous room service meal of everything English that I liked and missed, I showered, then sat in long boxers at the desk by the window and started a list of the things Mariah needed to fix her life.

Money was at the top. She’d no doubt argue and say she couldn’t take
our money, but she would. Eventually. Second on the list was a decent place to live. I wrote Bucharest with a question mark. Maybe she’d like to live somewhere else for school. Maybe London. I’d buy her a townhouse and hire household help to cook and clean and drive her to school. Next on the list was
learn English
.

Then,
clothes
. Sasha could take her shopping and buy what she needed for school. Maybe some party clothes. I wondered if she ever went to parties. Unlikely. She probably didn’t know people who had parties, and had no time for them even if she did. She’d meet people at school who would invite her to social things. Maybe she’d meet a nice guy at university. An engineer. A lawyer, or a doctor. A guy who would provide for her. Maybe somebody in international business who’d take her on trips. I wondered if she’d ever traveled. Did she want to travel?

I imagined her touring the Hermitage in St. Petersburg with another guy, thought about what would be going through his mind while he watched her exclaim over a Fabergé egg, where he’d take her afterward, what he’d do to her . . . Madness. I had to stop thinking about her with any kind of possessiveness. Mariah wasn’t mine – could never be mine.

I looked again at my list. What was she interested in? Did she read? What kind of books would she like? I read constantly, anything and everything. I wrote down my favorite titles to give to her, just in case she was a reader.

I added several more items to the list, then wrote
doctor
. I’d take her to wherever was considered the best medical facility in the world and she’d have everything checked out. Humans needed shots, I knew, so she’d have those. And a lady parts doctor would examine her and make sure nothing was wrong so if she wanted to have children, she could. I didn’t linger too long thinking about that. I remembered every second of how it had been with Jane. Blood and tears, shame and recriminations – and we’d done it all on purpose. I couldn’t fathom what Mariah must have suffered – if my instincts were right about Emilian. How old had she been? Twelve? Thirteen?

The nice Claridge’s pencil broke between my fingers.

I looked through the sheers down to Brook Street. It was now midafternoon in London, still morning in the States. I wondered how Mariah’s reunion with Jordan had gone. Jordan would be in school now, with Key, who stayed with her because of the difficulty in being Mephisto and going about in the real world for an extended amount of time. What was Mariah doing? Maybe sleeping.

I drew the drapes to block the light and got into bed, but
didn’t fall asleep for a long while. When I finally did, I dreamed about Jane and the night we had sex for the first time. The only time. Except in my dream, she didn’t stop bleeding, and my healing powers wouldn’t work. I panicked and went for help, but when I got back with the doctor, she’d morphed into Mariah, who lay there still as stone. I ran to the side of the bed and she looked up at me with no fear in her eyes, as if nothing was out of the ordinary, as if she wasn’t bleeding to death. She said my name, “Phoenix.” Then she said it again, and I said, “Mariah,” and she said my name again, and I said hers, and this went on and on, and I couldn’t stop, and I wanted her to say something besides my name, wanted her to let me help her, let the doctor save her, but she just kept saying my name, and I said hers, and all the while she was bleeding and dying.

I jerked awake
, instantly aware of Jax at the end of the bed, repeating my name while he shook my foot. I sat up and blinked. “What’s wrong? What’s happened?”