The Devil's Reprise (14 page)

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Authors: Karina Halle

Tags: #FICTION/Romance/Paranormal

BOOK: The Devil's Reprise
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Silence. She was speechless. I could see the confusion in her eyes, her mouth trying to form words that weren’t coming. She blinked, shook her head, rubbed at her face. Finally she said, “I had to leave, Sage. I had to finish school. I had to take care of my family.”

I sighed, knowing this all too well. “I know you did. But you never even thought to ask me. Maybe I could have gone with you. Maybe I could have helped. You know, if you wanted to keep it as a fling, that would have been fine. But then don’t paint me as the bad guy here because I slept with other chicks afterward or I had to tell the press I was single because I am single, Dawn, and so are you. We went our separate ways.”

She swallowed hard. “I didn’t know you felt that way…you said you didn’t love me…”

“And I didn’t,” I said, her face immediately falling at my harsh tone. I tried to soften it. “But it didn’t mean I wouldn’t. Love takes time. For someone like me, who swore he’d never love anyone after my ex, after the bargain, love wasn’t even an option. But I still knew I could get there. Dawn, I wanted to get there with you.”

Damn if I hadn’t been so honest in my whole life. I felt like a manzanita tree with the layers of bark peeling off, leaving the core of me bare.

“And now?”

I licked my lips anxiously and grabbed her hand, cold and small in mine. I gazed at her intently. “Now we’ve started over. And I don’t want to say I’m single. That was my life for years. That’s all it could have been. I’m done with that. I want you. I want
you
.” I’d never wanted her more.

She stepped up to me, her hand stroking my face, her dark eyes shining. “You have me. I’m not leaving you. I’m here.”

She reached up and kissed me, so fucking softly. I put my hands at the small of her waist, loving that I could hold her there and claim her as mine now.

Though I wouldn’t feel—
know
—she was mine until I was deep inside of her again.

I bit her lip and tugged on it playfully, feeling my body tense up, the need to have her naked and under me growing by the second. “We better do as Jacob said. You’re coming to my room.”

She teased the rim of my lip with her tongue. “Do you even know what room you’re staying in? Do you even know where the hotel is?” she asked, her voice breathy. I shook my head. “Then you’re coming to
my
room.”

“I love the women’s lib movement,” I mumbled before I grabbed her behind the head, making fists in those smooth curls, and kissed her furiously. I could have devoured her right there in that courtyard in Nice. I was seconds away from taking her in my arms and fucking her here on the bench, not giving a shit if it was indecent or if anyone could see.

But as I started unbuttoning her jeans, she swatted my hands away, pulled back, and led me in a frantic rush all the way to the hotel, which was only about a block away.

It was a chic little boutique hotel, but all I cared about was that tight round ass in front of me as Dawn led the way up the stairs. We barely made it inside her room before I pressed her up against the closed door and kissed her until she couldn’t breathe, until I couldn’t breathe—but who needed air when you had a silken tongue and warm lips and a body that begged to be licked, pinched, stroked.

I bit her neck hard and pulled off her shorts, sliding my fingers into her like I was running out of time. She moaned, neck arching, so fucking sweet, so perfect. She melted into my touch better than my damn guitar, her skin yielding to me, fully and completely, like the tightest strings that finally give in.

I made her come right away, her cries fluttering down around us like snow. She was the song and I was the composer, and I knew all the right notes to hit, again and again and again until her nails were digging into my arms, begging for me to stop, to let her catch her breath. But we were only getting started.

I scooped her up into my arms and threw her down on the bed, where she cried out in surprise. She quickly rolled over onto her back, her legs wide and body ready again like I knew she would be. I pulled off my shirt and let her eyes trail all over my body in the dim hotel room light, and then I undid my pants. She looked hungry for me, and I knew I looked hungry for her. She went for my dick with fierce determination.

Her lips were hot as her tongue danced up and down my shaft, her hands cupping my balls, until I was at the breaking point. I had a lot of stamina, but even I had my limits. I placed my hand at her forehead and gently pushed her back down on the bed, then I slipped my arm underneath her waist, and flipped her around so she was on her stomach.

I brought her body to the head of the bed and told her to hang on to the headboard while I slipped fingers between the silky slit of her ass. She tensed up, afraid, but I licked her spine from neck down and continued licking, my hands now spreading her cheeks. She melted into me like butter.

“You have no idea, no idea how beautiful you taste to me,” I whispered, my tongue lapping up every crevice. God, she was so damn pure, and this was so damn sinful I could barely keep it together.

I pulled back and realized she was gasping in delight. “Don’t stop,” she moaned.

“Sweetheart, it’s not over yet.”

I straddled her, my knees on either side while I guided my cock in with one hand and pulled her back toward me with the other. I knew I rode her pretty hard last night, and I didn’t want to hurt her but…Jesus. I pushed in slowly, and she took my breath away. So tight, so wet, so eager.

“You feel too good,” I hissed through my teeth as the pressure built. “Too good for me. An angel.”

“Just don’t fuck me like one.”

I grinned at her suddenly dirty mouth and did as she asked, loving how uninhibited she was being. I thrust my pelvis hard against her ass, my dick driving deep inside her pussy until my balls were banging. She tightened her grip on the headboard, and I just drove in her again, harder, quicker, a stabbing motion that made her inhale sharply.

“Harder?” I asked, my fingers trailing up her stomach until I hit the smooth curve of her breasts. “I can come at you harder. Softer. Slower. I can fuck you senseless.” I kissed her neck, feeling her racing pulse under my lips. “Shit, I can do anything you ask, Dawn.”

“Give me all of you,” she said. And I responded by doing just that. I rammed into her, my fingers melting onto her clit, rubbing her wet, making her breathe harder, making her legs shake. In and out, I kept the rhythm. I made sure we moved in time, in sync, like a metronome. With each thrust, I felt something becoming undone inside of me, a sensation in my chest, that I was falling and falling and falling and I realized I was. I was burning up inside and letting go and giving in.

When we both came, crying for each other, our sweat-slicked bodies linked as one, I knew I’d given her everything. I had given her all of me.

Damn.

I’d fallen in love with her.

Chapter Ten

Dawn

I woke up needing water something fierce. I opened my eyes to see a dimly lit room, the lamp in the corner still turned on, my bra hanging from it. Sage’s strong, firm arm was draped around my waist, spooning me, and I could hear him breathing lightly, ruffling the hair on the back of my head.

I grinned stupidly and sank further into the mattress. Sage. Sage was here, with me. I wasn’t alone. I had him, his arms offering me protection from the night, protection from the next day and the next.

It’s too bad he wouldn’t be able to protect me from the oncoming hangover. After I saw him disappear into the bar car earlier with Angeline, I spent the rest of the train ride drinking out of Tricky’s flask and stewing over my fear about the phone call with my mother coupled with the frustrating jealousy of Angeline. As soon as we arrived in Nice and I checked into my room, I went straight to the hotel bar and did a few shots with Garth, desperately trying to get out of my own head and let loose. For a moment there, I knew exactly why Sage drank the way he did.

But it didn’t matter. Sage had been more honest and open with me last night than he’d ever been. It full-on floored me to hear him say that I’d
left
him. I had no idea he took my going back to Washington as a sign that I didn’t want to be with him. To hear that he’d wanted me—hell, even wanted to come with me—that made me thaw like nothing else. All that time we’d been pining for each other, too damn scared to even pick up the phone.

And the sex. I’d heard the term “mind-blowing sex” thrown around so much, but I was embracing that cliché because that fuck blew my mind. I’d never felt so dirty before, what he did to me, and yet it had never felt so good. That was raw, primal, emotional sex. Yeah, I could tell I was going to be a bit sore from two nights of his dick in a row after months of celibacy, but it was worth it. Everything about Sage, this man, this rock star in my bed, was worth it.

Even a hangover. I sighed, knowing if I wanted to ward it off, I needed to drink a gallon of water and take some aspirin. When you’re on tour with a rock band, you’re bound to be getting wild at some point, so I’d learned to carry pain medicine with me. I didn’t want to get out of bed, out of his arms, and away from the heat of his beautiful body, but I had to.

I carefully untangled myself out of his embrace, not wanting to wake him, and tiptoed across the room to the bathroom, shutting the door behind me. I opened my toiletry bag, and shook out some pills and downed them. The hotel room glasses were tiny and I couldn’t get enough, so I took my time standing at the sink, drinking and refilling.

It was between my third and fourth glass that a chill crept up on my bare arms and legs, and the hairs on my head began to tingle. I cautiously looked up to the mirror above the sink, expecting to see someone standing behind me.

But there was no one.

I finished drinking the glass, my senses going haywire as the crop of goosebumps intensified and my spine felt like it was being stroked with a piece of ice. Sometimes you just know when you’re not alone. When there’s someone else…here.

A dripping sound caught my attention. Faint and subtle at first, like it had been dripping this whole time and I hadn’t noticed. I slowly turned my head and looked over to the bathtub, where the curtain was drawn across it. The curtain was a pale yellow, which probably evoked feelings of sunshine and the French Riviera at any other time but right now reminded me of bile.

I sucked in my breath as the curtain moved, billowing out just slightly, as if pushed by an imaginary breeze. But I’d been in the room earlier. There was no window behind it, and the air in the room was still. Heavy.

The curtain billowed out again, and the dripping continued erratically. It didn’t sound like a leaky faucet. It sounded heavier than water, thick and sticky.

And the more I stared at the curtain, daring it to do something else, the more my eyes picked up on a small movement
behind
it. A shape, a shadow behind the sunny façade.

The blood pumped noisily through my head; the whole bathroom seemed to vibrate with it.
Go get Sage
, I told myself.
Turn around, get out of the bathroom, and go get Sage. Don’t do anything else. Go get Sage.

But though the words in my head made perfect sense—gave me comfort, even, that my big, tall Sage would save the day while I hid behind him—my body didn’t listen.

I put down the glass on the counter, wincing at the sound it made.

It can hear me
, I thought.

I stepped toward the bathtub, my shaking hand stretched out to the curtain. I had to see for myself. I had to know.

I took in a deep breath through my nose, steadied my nerves as much as I could, and pulled the curtain back.

A scream froze in my throat.

My mother was standing in the corner of the bathtub, her head slumped over to her shoulder, her eyes closed as if she were asleep on her feet. Blood dripped from her ivory wrists to shiny red puddles in the bottom of the tub, and she was cloaked in a long, black gown, which disappeared in inky tendrils down the drain.

I’d seen her. I’d wished to see my mother again, and now she was standing right in front of me. Something more real than a vision or a ghost. I’d seen her. But she hadn’t seen me yet. I could still get away.

Her eyes opened. She looked right at me.

“Dawn,” she said, a smile breaking across her face. “I told you I’d come.”

I tried to scream, tried to move, tried to run. But it was like one of those nightmares that you hope only happens in your dreams. I was stuck, a prisoner of the scene.

My mother straightened up her head, still smiling. At first, aside from the black gown, she looked as I remembered—high cheekbones and slim nose. Her eyes were the same, her smile, her voice—it looked like her on all accounts. But there was something else different about her. Something that made the fear so fucking real. Her eyes didn’t have any pupils; they were just a blank shade of blue. They were eyes that housed nothing—no emotions, no soul, no humanity.

This wasn’t my mother. Not anymore.

I had to get out of there. My mother took a crooked step toward me, walking through the puddles of blood. The blood seemed to stir and come alive at her bare feet. It started climbing up her legs, taking her over in a wash of red. It continued to move up her, like she was being devoured by a crimson tide, until she was completely covered in it.

Her eyes, though. Her eyes remained white and blue. Blank. Empty. Inhuman.

She stopped at the edge of the tub and looked at me. I still couldn’t move, even when the blood began to slide down her teeth, covering her once pretty smile.

I still couldn’t move when she stepped out of the tub and onto the floor in front of me.

“I missed you, honey,” she said, and I closed my eyes to the sight of her, wishing I didn’t have to hear her voice, the voice of the woman who used to tuck me in at night, the voice of the woman who lost herself to madness. “Didn’t you miss me?”

Foolishly I believed that if I kept my eyes closed, she would go away.

When I finally opened them, she was still there, watching me as only someone with no pupils could. I could see the blood moving on her face, like it was another creature and she was the host.

“Say you missed me, honey,” she said, whispering now. I felt tears springing to my eyes, my heart breaking somewhere inside. I felt the need to hold her, to have her hold me, to bring my real mother back.

“I—I missed you,” I said softly, knowing I was crazy, that this wasn’t her. This wasn’t her.

But what if it was?

She held her hand out to me. I caught a glimpse of the gaping slice in her wrist. “Then come with me. It will be easier this way.”

I swallowed hard, keeping my hands to myself. “Easier?”

She smiled. “I won’t let them hurt you. It won’t be scary, I promise. It will be over quickly.”

I managed to shake my head. “I’m not going anywhere.”

The smile on her bloodied face vanished. The room went ice cold.

Suddenly she lunged for me.

I finally screamed, the sound tearing out of my lungs loud and clear, and turned to run just to see the bathroom door locking on itself.

“Sage!” I shrieked as fire-hot hands grabbed the back of my shirt and started pulling me backward, keeping me from reaching the door handle. I tried to turn and kick but only fell to the floor, which was now filling up with blood. The taps in the sink and in the bathtub kicked on by themselves, blood gushing out of them, the air filling with a copper tang.

My mother pulled me up by my arms, her red, wet hands searing into me, and started dragging me toward the bathtub. I screamed again, trying to get free. I could feel her face changing shape, taking on another form, and I did what I could not to look at her.

“Dawn!” I heard Sage bellow from the other side of the door, the handle jangling back and forth. “Dawn!” The door shook on its frames as Sage threw himself against it.

“Help!” I screamed until a hand went across my mouth, silencing me. Then the hand pulsed and expanded and grew until it was a thick tentacle forcing its way into my mouth, trying to move past my tongue and down into my throat. I was choking, the air being sucked out of me, my mouth feeling like it was being ripped apart.

Just as the world was growing black, Sage kicked the door in, breaking it off its hinges. The tentacle quickly removed itself from my mouth, the hands let go of my back, and I fell forward, limp and lifeless, my head about to crash into the side of the bathtub. Sage caught me just in time and pulled me out, letting me rest on his strong, muscular thighs.

“Shit,” he swore, cradling my head in his hands. I looked up at him, trying to tell him that I was okay. Those beautiful green eyes were tinged with a fear I’d never seen before as he looked from me to the bathtub and back.

I lost consciousness.

People were arguing. The sound of Jacob’s gruff voice and Sage’s panicked one. I remembered what had happened. The bathroom. My mother. I could tell I was in bed, under the covers, and still I was afraid to open my eyes.

“I think she’s waking up,” I heard Max say.

A warm hand went to my cheek, and I had the courage to face the day, to keep going on. I opened my eyes and smiled when I saw Sage’s handsome face over mine, his brow wrought with concern. “Dawn. You’re going to be all right.”

I snorted caustically, even though it hurt. “Right. Sure. Uh-huh.”

I tried to sit up, and he helped me until I was leaning back against the pillow. We were in my room, the lights all blazing. Max was sitting on a chair in the corner, watching me intently; Jacob was standing by the broken bathroom door, his arms folded and his eyes in my direction, but his mind elsewhere. In his hand he held something that looked like a photograph.

“What time is it?” I asked, eyeing the window. It was black outside, a nearly full moon hanging low in the distance.

“Four a.m.,” said Jacob. “You’ve been out for an hour.”

“Dawn,” Sage whispered, his massive body settling on the edge of the bed beside me. “What happened? What was that
thing
?”

“You saw her?”

Sage exchanged a look with Jacob. “Who?”

“My mother. My mother was in the bathtub. I went to get some water, and I saw her there, behind the curtain. Then she started coming for me…”

“I don’t know what you saw, Dawn, but that was not your mother…that was…” Sage trailed off, his mouth curling in utter disgust. He shook his head. “I don’t know what the fuck that was. But it wasn’t your mother. It wasn’t human.”

“It was a demon,” Max said absently.

Sage and I both looked to him.

“Tell me again, Jacob, why it’s a good thing that he’s here,” Sage sniped.

“Shut up,” Jacob said calmly, though his tone was tightly wound. “I told you last night that there was more to this. And Max is right. That was a demon.” He gave me a sympathetic look. “Sorry, love, it was once your mother. For maybe a second even, it was her, before the demon took over. You did see her. You did hear her. Just enough to fulfill the final part of the bargain. Now you’ve been granted everything. The housekeeper told Sage that once you saw her, it would all end. This is the beginning of the end.”

Fucking hell, if my whole body didn’t just freeze in fright. I clutched the blanket to my chest, trying to find warmth.

“You’re failing at your beside manners,” Sage mumbled.

“And I was never very good at it,” Jacob said, walking forward until he was at the foot of the bed. I felt like I’d seen him too often in those ugly pajamas of his. “Luckily I have Max. Well, you have Max. He’s a lot better at this than I am.”

I looked over at Max, who was chewing on his lip in thought, staring dead ahead. I was starting to think he hadn’t even heard Jacob when he suddenly said, “Right then. I reckon it’s about time I come clean.”

“I knew it,” Sage said under his breath.

Max leaned forward in his seat, elbows on his grey tracksuit pants, and clasped his hands together. He looked me dead in the eye.

“Dawn, I am a photographer. I do work for
Creem
magazine. But I’m not here because of Sage Knightly and his European solo tour. I’m here because of you. For you.” He scratched at his sideburns. “Jacob had a hunch about you—a worry. He asked me to look into it. Because he’s boring and mortal now, there wasn’t much he could do, so I was the next best thing. You know how the Jacobs work, don’t you?”

I swallowed hard. “Refresh my memory.”

He sighed. “This is the part that always sounds the stupidest,” he said to himself. “Okay, here we go. In short, Jacobs are guardians, guides, and managers of this world, the Thin Veil or the barrier world, and the other worlds—Heaven, Hell, and some nooks and crannies in between. We’re all here for one purpose, and when the purpose is fulfilled, we start over again. Anew. No memories of the past we just had. Believe me, if you’ve been around for thousands of years, the erasure of past lives is the only way you can ensure sanity. Our purposes can change, though, with each life. Sometimes we manage, like Jacob did, ensuring everything is going as planned—debts to demons are made all the time. In fact, in this increasingly…volatile world, the debts are growing. Sometimes we guard the world, ensuring the bad things stay where they do and the good ones don’t come visit. Sometimes we guide those who have the ability to see and communicate with the dead. Sometimes those people can even see the demons. Sometimes they can even fight them.”

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