Blood In The Stars (12 page)

A boot came into the room first, round-toed and black. Then she saw the hem of the pant leg, also black. The long leg that followed was cut off by a skirt—no, a jacket . . . the hem of a jacket. A trench coat.

Daria’s heart raced and she held her breath in anticipation. When she saw the silver buckles fastened around the coat, the wristbands around the hands, she stared into the atmosphere beyond, waiting. Knowing.

Jason stepped through the gap in the wall.

The hair on the nape of Daria’s neck stood up as chills streaked down her arms and legs. Even her nose and ears numbed as though a winter wind had blown through. Fear crawled up her spine, sending goose bumps rippling across her skin.

With the dark frown on his brow, the narrowed eyes hiding behind his long hair, and the deliberate, looming steps toward Damien, nothing about this man made her feel safe. Innate terror from his power flooded her soul.

Yet unlike that night in the alleyway, an ember deep inside her heart had ignited. Jason had come for her. Sure, he loved that woman from five hundred years ago and had wanted to marry her, but he had promised to protect Daria. Here he stood, making good on that promise.

Though she hadn’t made a move, Damien stuck out his arm to block her. “It’s been a long time.”

“Damien,” Jason acknowledged with a nod.

The two men’s presence filled the room. Their immense power charged the tense air and electrified the atmosphere. She found it hard to breathe. Unease crept through her body, chilling her.

Their eyes grazed over each other the way a lion watched a prancing gazelle—fearful of disturbing the brush yet hungry for the kill. Who would strike first?

For a few interminable seconds, neither said anything. Then Damien broke the silence by asking, “How do you plan to get back up there?”

“Let me worry about that. Let her go.”

Daria’s glance darted from one man to the next, trying to understand the exchange going on. Damien kept staring at Jason’s wrists, but Daria didn’t see anything beyond the black bands.

“You’ve always been such a party-pooper,” Damien sulked. “Now you’re here to ruin my fun.”

With his eyes never straying from Damien, Jason held out his hand to her. “Let’s go.”

Fear froze her. His commanding voice didn’t give the option for refusal, but she couldn’t walk into the lion’s den for fear he’d consume her. Torn between wanting to run and hide and wanting the safety his hand provided, Daria continued to stand there, dumb and immobile.

Damien made the decision for her by blocking her way and challenging Jason with a smirk. “Try and take her from me.”

She never saw them move.

Fire shot from Damien’s hand and lightning burst from Jason’s. The two forces collided in a ball of white sparks and orange flames.

Her eyes flew to the opening in the wall. If she ran for it, maybe she could make it out before either Jason or Damien could react. But even now she couldn’t see anything despite the fake sun still shining from the window. Jason had entered from the unknown and that nothingness scared her.

She focused her attention back on the two fighting. Suddenly, a blazing light exploded from the two powers and Daria twisted around, burying her face against the blankets. A wave of heat, akin to a tropical summer, washed over her.

When she turned around, Damien rested against the wall, his hand covering his heart. Jason stood in front of her, his eyes on Damien, but his hand reached out to her once again.

“Come with me.” When she still didn’t move, Jason turned to give her a loving smile, one that swept away the fear in her heart. The Jason she had met in the sports bar and who had ordered take-out had returned. “I promised I’d protect you, remember? Now let’s get out of here.”

Half-stumbling and half-running, Daria fled to Jason. Tears of relief stung her eyes. The moment she reached him, his arm wound around her, shielding her from Damien. The lump in her throat disappeared and warmth flooded her.

“Don’t let go of me,” he told her. Together, they walked toward that blackness beyond the room’s walls. She shrank closer to him as they approached.

“See you soon,” Damien called as darkness engulfed them.

Blinded by the sudden darkness, Daria tried to control the fear surging through her. The thick, inky atmosphere confined her, making it hard to breathe. “Jason?”

“I’m right here.” His hand tightened on her waist, yet his voice sounded small and far away. If she didn’t have him right by her side, she would worry they had separated. She glided her hands up his chest, fingertips trailing over the metal buckles of his coat, around the narrowed collar until she touched the slope of his jaw. Her hands continued upward, grazing his eyes and nose in butterfly caresses.

“You came for me,” she breathed, cupping his face.

She felt his smile on her fingertips. Then he kissed them. “Of course.” His hands pulled her close. “Damien didn’t do anything, did he?”

She shook her head and then realized he couldn’t see. “No. He locked me up and told me some stories. Oh, and he proposed.”

He stiffened and grabbed her arms. “What did you say? You didn’t say yes, did you?” His fingers dug into her flesh and the urgency in his voice hurt more than if he hadn’t said anything at all.

What did he have to be upset about? She still wrestled with the knowledge of his love for the last auspicious one.

“Answer me!”

Against her better judgment, she pushed him away. “At least he
wants
to marry me. You . . . you . . .”

To Daria’s dismay and embarrassment, tears flooded her eyes. What could she say? That he didn’t want to marry her? He had never said he wanted to in the first place. They’d known each other for what? Two, three days? Saying he hadn’t proposed made her sound like the idiot she was. Her heart wrenched and she cried harder.

“Sweetheart,” he beseeched, reaching for her.

“Don’t touch me!”

Now she sounded hysterical on top of it all. She couldn’t help it. As the words began pouring from her mouth, she knew she had lost all her pride when it came to this man.

“Damien told me everything,” she sobbed. “I know all about how you were going to run away with her. You wanted to marry her, too!”

Since meeting Jason, she had changed. Daria had relied on no one all these years. Losing her parents at sixteen had made her independent, driven, and brought her the success she had now. It had also left her guarded. She didn’t want people to get too close. If they did, she’d come to rely on them. Then they might leave and she’d be left alone anyway.

But for some strange reason, she had decided to let Jason in. Maybe it was because she had almost died. And Jason was there, available, and openhearted. So she took that leap of faith to find love. She didn’t know what she expected out of it all. Clearly too much, too soon.

Though ashamed of her jealousy and expectations, the words had tumbled out anyway. Now she wanted to crawl into a hole and die of humiliation.

Strong arms reached around her. She struggled against them, but they wrapped her in warmth, imprisoning her. A metal buckle jabbed her eye and she shifted her face, crying into his chest. His big hands stroked her hair and back.

When her cries had calmed and only a catch remained in her breath, he continued to hold her as though they had all the time in the world and wasn’t stuck in some godforsaken place where the sun never shone. His heart beat steadily against her ear and the rhythm soothed the last remnants of her frustration.

“So, Damien told you about Alice.” He sounded resigned, tired, and a bit sad.

Alice. The name made her more real. No longer was it some random girl also born under certain stars.

“She’s been gone for five hundred years.” She heard him swallow. “But everyone seems to want to bring her up lately.” Pain sprinkled his whispered words. “Alice was sweet, gentle, and very kind. I was walking death after I lost her. I wandered the known world, aimless, not knowing what to do, where to go. Until you.”

The need to apologize for dredging up those memories made her heart skip. He continued to stroke her hair, comforting her. Yet Daria felt he was the one who needed the comfort now.

“You gave me hope that I could make up for my mistakes,” he breathed. “I saw you in your crib and when you smiled at me, I saw a way to redeem myself.”

The rejection was coming. She could hear it approaching with the pace of a high-speed train racing to the end of a track that plunged off a cliff. Daria wanted to block her ears. She didn’t want to hear that she was a means for him to feel better about himself, a way to make up for his past. She hadn’t finally let down the wall around her heart to be hurt like this.

“I will never let anything happen to you, Daria. I will stay by your side and protect you until my last breath.”

Daria closed her eyes, allowing the agonizing words to sink in. No mention of love. No mention of even caring for her. Guilt drove him. Guilt for not saving Alice.

“I’m a homework assignment,” she confirmed, feeling dead inside.

She waited to hear vehement denials or laughter at her ridiculous notion, because she wanted to believe otherwise. Her own statement set her up for disappointment. Craving reassurance was a mistake. Maybe he’d crush that small flame of hope that ignited every time his glance did funny things to her stomach, or when his touch sent tingles down to her knees. She hated the effect he had on her even as she craved it.

Like me. Think of me as more than merely an assignment. Tell me I mean something to you.

Instead, Jason sighed. “At first,” he finally admitted.

Disappointment stung every pore of her body. Forced again to recognize she meant nothing to him, she couldn’t stop herself from plunging into a larger pond of despair.

“You two loved each other?” she asked.

“Yes,” he replied, his voice barely audible.

The quiet assertion rang in her ears and smothered the last of her romantic thoughts, leaving her void of the love she hoped to have. Berating herself for being a fool, Daria bit the inside of her lip to keep it from quivering. She asked for it and she would bear the pain.

The sweet dates they had, his heroism at saving her time and again, were all part of his guilt-driven duty. She knew that now. And every time it felt as though they fit perfectly together . . . it had all been in her head. It wasn’t real. She just wove a fantasy about him.

His heart was spoken for. And it would never belong to her.

Chapter 10

Daria trudged behind Jason, almost resentful that he insisted on holding her hand. Didn’t he understand that she’d been rejected? She didn’t want to hold his hand. She didn’t want to be near him at all. If it weren’t for the fact that she didn’t know how to get out of this hellhole, she would have already left by herself.

Suddenly, Jason stumbled. His hand slipped from hers and he gasped in pain. Daria froze, then waved her hands like mad, trying to find him.

“Jason!” Panic streaked her voice. God. Was he hurt? She’d been so wrapped up in her feelings she hadn’t even considered he might have been injured from the battle with Damien. She never used to be this self-absorbed. Daria could have kicked herself. What did it matter if he liked her? He had saved her life countless times.

She stooped down, circling her hands through the blackness, searching for him. “What is it? Are you okay?” she cried. She found his hand first and clutched it. Never had she loved his cold fingers more. “Are you hurt?”

Faint, shallow breaths answered her. She thanked her lucky stars and trailed her hands up. Then stilled. Something wet and sticky coated her fingertips.

“Don’t,” he whispered.

Ignoring his warning, she brought her fingers to her nose, picking up a strong metallic scent. Her other hand tightened on his arm and though blind, her eyes scanned the darkness for him.

“Is that . . .?” Her stomach lurched and her voice quavered. She couldn’t finish her sentence, afraid saying the word validated what she knew to be true. Her breath lodged in her throat, choking her with guilt. He was in pain because of her. Wounded because of her. And she had been concerned with nothing more than her stupid feelings.

“I’m fine,” he grunted, moving to stand.

She stood with him, tipping slightly without something to orient her body. Her hand remained on his arm, afraid if she let go, the darkness would swallow him completely.

“Does it hurt?” she asked when they began walking again. She supported his arm. Or maybe he still led her. She wasn’t sure which anymore.

He halted but didn’t answer her immediately. Then he murmured, “I’ll survive.”

She frowned at his flippant tone. Did he plan to protect her from his pains, too?

“We need to get you to a hospital. Because of me—”

“Daria,” he cut off. “Never blame yourself. I’m here because I want to be. I know the consequences.”

She stroked his arm, trying to form the right words. He might know the consequences, but she didn’t. Jason had always seemed invincible to her. Yet he wasn’t. After the banshees attacked, she told herself she would not let anyone else die because of her. But she had taken Jason’s protection for granted. Just because he wasn’t human, it didn’t mean he couldn’t die. He clearly bled.

After they got out of here, she needed to figure out what to do and not rely only on Jason’s help. Her chest tightened. If he died because of her, she would never be able to live with herself.

“This is far enough,” he said, stopping.

Soft, rustling noises floated to her ears and a dull light began to glow beside her. She squinted against the sudden onslaught of brightness. As her eyes adjusted, she made out the form of Jason’s hand, coated in blood, clutching the light.

“What is that?”

“It’s going to get us home.” As the light grew brighter and larger, he said, “Hold on to me.”

Immediately, she wrapped her arms around him. The blood drained from her head and her center of gravity weakened, giving her a floating sensation. Suddenly, the light blinded her and she buried her face in Jason’s chest.

Then came the never-ending fall. Again.

Daria opened her eyes to the elegant foyer of a large estate. Decorative molding in geometric patterns on the ceiling, combined with the dark mahogany hardwood flooring, gave the entire foyer the presence of greatness. She glimpsed a sunroom to her right and a curving stairway that seemed to climb to the heavens with an elliptical skylight on the ceiling.

“It’s impressive the first time you see it, isn’t it?” Jason mused.

He brushed aside a lock of her hair. His face had turned ashen gray, his weird black trench had disappeared, and his hair had once again returned to a short cut. She grabbed his hand and saw blood dripping from the black band on his wrist. She could have sworn the bands were wider when he had saved her from Damien.

“It will heal,” he told her before she even opened her mouth. Then he threw her a wry smile. “It probably already has.”

Footsteps approached from behind and a familiar voice called, “Welcome back.”

“Miller!” She jumped in surprise at the last person she expected to see. Glancing at the opulent surroundings, glimpsing a grand piano in the corner, she suddenly realized where she was. “Your place?” Daria didn’t give him a chance to answer. “Jason’s hurt. We need to get him to a doctor.”

Miller nodded and strode toward them.

“It’s nothing. Thanks for bringing me back.” Jason held out his hand where shattered chunks of crystal lay in his palm. “Sorry about the Baccarat.”

“I’ll put it on your bill.” Unperturbed, Miller eyed Jason’s wrist. “Along with the door.”

A cold sweat washed over her with the revelation that Miller was in on everything. “What—Miller—he—”

“Miller’s a witch,” Jason explained. “The oldest son of the House of Witches.”

Daria gasped. “Like with the broom and pointy hat?”

“No, like with the sleigh and reindeer. Of course with the broom and pointy hat!” Miller bellowed.

Daria winced, looking at her coworker with new eyes. All these years, she had worked with a witch and apparently not any old witch, but an oldest son and likely heir to great powers.

“Bathroom’s around the corner.” Miller jerked his head to the right.

As soon as Jason stepped away, Miller grabbed Daria’s arm. His eyes missed nothing as they raked over her face. She squirmed under his scrutiny.

“You’ve been crying. Did Damien do something? What happened?”

She stared in the direction Jason had gone and merely said, “Alice happened.” She swallowed and met Miller’s gaze. “I’m an idiot, aren’t I?”

The ache in her heart was a throbbing reminder. It had to go away eventually, though. They barely knew each other. There was no reason to get hung up over the guy. Sure, he had saved her a few times and was great company, but it wasn’t meant to be. His undying love for Alice had already lasted beyond five hundred years.

Daria didn’t begrudge him his dead love. She envied them.

“It’s not what you think.” Miller spoke low. “You shouldn’t compare yourself with her. You two are nothing alike.”

Brick by brick, she fortified her heart. There were benefits to being alone. She couldn’t have kisses or cuddling anymore, but she wouldn’t feel as if someone was trying to carve her heart to pieces, either. They could be friends. A lot of people did that. Not too hard, right? She’d have to look at that gorgeous face and body, listen to how he wanted to take care of her, and occasionally feel his arms around her . . .

Her breath choked. God. That would kill her if the monsters didn’t get to her first.

She collected her emotions and shoved them into a corner of her heart in an attempt to get her feelings under control. Solitude suited her. Had suited her since she was sixteen
. Kind of like an accessory in my closet
.

She couldn’t let other people see how close she was to breaking, how the appearance of Jason’s affection and its sudden absence could push her over the edge.
Get it under control, Daria
. She sucked in a deep breath, filling her lungs and slowly letting the air out through her mouth.

Her breathing evened and she felt confident enough to respond with a cold, “I
think
his feelings were made very clear.”

Miller blinked his big eyes at her and she felt badly to have made him the target of her attitude.

“Dar—”

But he didn’t get a chance to finish because they heard Jason’s footsteps. She avoided their eyes, wondering if she should ask Miller to take her home. Somehow the gesture seemed childish. Maybe she could hitch a cab.

“I’ll take you home,” Jason said, as if reading her thoughts.

“You guys really should stay here,” Miller said, following them to the front door. “It would be safer.”

“No,” Jason replied quietly without turning around. “I don’t want Daria with anyone but me.”

The brick wall around her heart shook, his words an earthquake threatening to topple it.
Don’t listen. You’re just a homework assignment. He doesn’t mean what you think he means.

Instead, she deflected, “Look, I’m really tired and—”

“And what?” Miller snapped. “You think things will just go back to normal? That everyone is going to take a break from killing you while you get your beauty rest?”

Daria flinched. She didn’t know what to think anymore. She just wanted to sink into a tub and then go to bed. Sleep could give her a few hours of blessed peace. When she woke up the next morning, maybe she’d have an answer for her breaking heart, how to fend off the creatures after her, and how to make sure no one else got hurt.

Miller turned his anger on Jason. “What are you going to do about Damien?”

“Nothing.” Jason seemed unfazed. “He has the right to marry her. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to allow it. Let’s go.”

Actions, not words.
That’s what Damien said to me
. Unmoving, she stared at Jason’s back. Damien had missed something in his assessment. He’d forgotten about motivation.

Did Jason stay for guilt and duty alone?

Daria shot Miller a quick glance. At least her coworker had given her another option. If she really had to leave Jason, she could still come here for shelter. If she lived that long.

“I can stay with Miller if that’s easier.” Though she didn’t want Miller hurt either, if his home provided a greater degree of safety for everyone, then why not?

Jason froze and a sudden chill entered the air. He turned around slowly, stiffly. When his eyes locked on hers, she wondered if this was how John felt that night in the alleyway.
Petrified
. Frost washed over her and she wanted nothing more than to rub her arms and regain some warmth.

In one step, Jason was by her side. He gazed down at her, the intensity and heat of his golden eyes burning her, melting away the polar atmosphere. Her legs grew weak. If he kept staring at her like she was the first meal of a starving man, she’d give him whatever he wanted.

He raised his hand to touch her cheek and then let it fall, bunching it into a fist by his side. “Would you rather stay with Miller?” he whispered hoarsely.

God, he was killing her. Anguish paled his face. She could have run over his dog and then squashed his heart with a big-rig and he couldn’t have appeared more tortured.

The brick around her heart crumbled, turned to dust by his smoldering eyes. She suppressed a sigh. So much for guarding herself from getting hurt. And so much for not falling for him, too fast and too soon. He already had her wrapped around his little finger and she couldn’t refuse him anything.

It was so unfair. He had to know what he was doing to her with that hurt expression of his. Yet she saw no guile or manipulation. Just pained patience, waiting for her decision to leave with him or stay with Miller. It was a losing battle. If she forfeited and gave her heart free rein, she knew she’d fall faster than a rock off a cliff. Except she didn’t know what lay at the bottom of the canyon.

Daria stepped into his arms and he held her as though she should have never left his embrace. She pressed a quick kiss on his lips. “Let’s go home.”

Miller rolled his eyes and opened the door for them. “You two really need to get a room,” he grumbled.

They ignored him, hurrying toward Jason’s car.

“Just think about it,” Miller insisted.

Jason nodded. “Thanks again, Miller.”

Miller’s initial smile vanished as his brows furrowed. “When is Alastor coming?”

Daria glanced at Jason in question. Who was Alastor?

“He arrived this morning.”

Miller nodded. “My door is always open for you guys.”

“Thank you, Miller,” Daria said. Impulsively, she reached out and gave him a quick hug before jumping into the car with a little wave good-bye. As Jason drove away Daria looked back, awestruck, toward the immense estate, her first view of the impressive exterior. An English manor with a limestone façade and brown shingles rose up from acres of manicured lawn. She could barely take it all in—gabled rooftops, rectangular windows like the castles of yore, three chimney tops, and at least three balconies. With its high turrets, Miller’s house resembled a castle far more than a mansion.

Reading the street signs, she realized they were in Winnetka, and suddenly understood just how much money Miller had. A few minutes later she and Jason were on the road back to downtown and more average, less impressive scenery. The gentle rush of wind and the hum of the engine calmed her frayed nerves.

They didn’t say much on the drive. She sat in the passenger seat, arms folded over her chest, huddled into a little ball against the leather upholstery, content with the silence for company. Though her mind was anything but quiet.

They’d all said her maturation date was nearing. That would be when the monsters came for her. An involuntary shudder traversed her body. She had to figure out what to do these next few days.

First, she needed more information. “Why didn’t you want to stay at Miller’s?” Daria asked.

She barely heard Jason sigh. “His house sits on three intersecting lines of energy. It’s an apex of power for witches. He—
we
could definitely protect you there.”

“But?” she prodded.

“They would know and lay siege. It would turn into a virtual prison.” He glanced at her quickly before turning his eyes back to the road. “That’s no way to live. Alice already lived cloistered in a castle so she was used to it. There’s no way you could stand not stepping outside.”