Blood In The Stars (18 page)

“What were you thinking about back there?” Miller interrupted Jason’s dark pondering.

He let out a heavy breath. “I was thinking how easy it would be to kill whatever came for Daria and be done with it. Everyone would be happy.”

“Except for you.” Miller studied him for a moment, then asked, “What is it? You would have never even entertained the thought in the past. You seem . . . nervous.” He pointed to Jason’s fisted hands.

Jason forced his hands to loosen, but still his nails dug into his palms. He welcomed the pinch of pain. It reminded him they still lived. For now.

He changed the subject. “Your barrier. How long will it last?”

Miller’s lips curved in a wry smile. “I could say forever but I don’t think that’s what you’re asking.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows upon his knees. “If the onslaught is vicious enough, they could pierce it, yes.”

“And how do we get out?”

“That’s a secret.” At Jason’s raised brows, Miller gave a casual shrug. “If you plan to defend her, I’ll let you out.”

“What if I plan to marry her?”

Miller narrowed his eyes, half rising from his seat. “Are you asking what I
think
you’re asking?”

It was their last option and one Jason wouldn’t have explored if he had other viable avenues. Miller’s skeptical face and frown of distaste said enough about what he thought of the plan.

“Let’s talk about that later,” Miller growled as he eased back onto his chair. “If you’re done stalling, I’m waiting to hear about the incident earlier.”

Silence dominated the room as Jason stared out the window behind Miller. The thin outline of a short, decorative stonewall sat at the garden’s edge. Beyond that, he knew, was Lake Michigan. The army of water sprites would come from that direction tomorrow. And from there, he’d take a stand.

But that was tomorrow. And Jason still had to explain about tonight. “Did you see the demon?” he asked.

Miller tilted his head, unsure where the question led. “I was checking Candy’s wounds,” he admitted.

Jason smiled. “You weren’t born yet anyway, so it’s not as though you would remember.”

Miller stiffened and jerked upright. “Are you saying you knew him?”

The gate had shut and Jason hadn’t wanted to turn around. It was vital to take Candy inside to heal her wounds, to sweep Daria into his arms and tell her again how much he loved her. But he’d stood behind the gate and waited. Because he felt compelled, as though an invisible rope had chained him to the wrought-iron posts. And dread had consumed him to see the formless, amorphous mass . . . taunting him. Laughing at him.

The demon had taken shape and exposed the intricate markings on his body for a purpose. Only the royal family and those with special powers gained those tattoos. They represented the demonic power the individual wielded. The more tattoos, the greater the power.

Only one demon outside of the royal family had ever achieved such high status.

“That wasn’t an ordinary demon,” Jason finally said, surprised at his hoarse voice. “That was Balthazar.”

Miller’s jaw dropped. Then closed. Only to drop again. He sputtered, “Then—then that means . . .”

“Yes. Alice may still be alive.”

Chapter 16

Daria froze in the middle of the stairway, her foot poised on the next step. She waited for them to continue, afraid to move, to even breathe. Could they hear how her heartbeat thundered, loud in her own ears?

She’d heard their voices at the top of the stairs just as Miller asked if Jason had known the man who hunted them. Daria already knew that answer; the demon was connected to Damien somehow and had not come for her, but for Jason. She hadn’t meant to eavesdrop and had every intention of joining their conversation.

Until he mentioned Alice.

A painful lump rose to her throat. Why did this have to happen when Jason finally told her he loved her? If Alice truly lived, would Jason cast her aside? Daria shook her head violently. No. She couldn’t think like that. Still, she couldn’t stop the little seed of insecurity in her heart. Bracing herself, Daria descended the stairs.

As she neared the doorway she heard Miller demand, “It’s been five hundred years. Are you saying she’s become immortal?” Daria could easily detect the skepticism in his tone.

They stopped their conversation as she walked in. Jason jumped to his feet. “How is she?”

“Clean. Naked.” She tried a reassuring smile that no doubt fell flat. “There was too much blood to save her clothes. So you two be gentlemen when you go up.”

Miller bolted out of his chair and had sped halfway down the hallway, when the phone rang. He flew back and grabbed his cell.

“You need to come over right now,” Miller barked without offering a greeting. Audible grumbling came from the receiver before he cut in with, “Candy’s wounded. We think it was Balthazar.”

In the sudden silence, Miller hung up the phone. He turned to Jason, searching for the right words. “I know you don’t want Alastor here.”

“Everyone needs to know,” was Jason’s reply. Miller nodded and left.

An uneasy silence seemed to settle between them, with everything already said yet so much left unspoken. The large room they stood in held little privacy, with rows of windows on both sides. Probably to give the residents a view of the lake.
Or to prevent sneak attacks.
Funny how her perspective had changed with her life on the line. Each day seemed bleaker than the one before.

“Who’s Balthazar?” Daria finally asked.

Jason stared at his feet, the picture of repentance. “Balthazar was the demon who killed Alice.” A raspy, bitter laugh rose from his chest. “The one I thought had died with her five hundred years ago.”

Tremors blasted through her body and she hugged herself to keep them under control. “You’re sure?”

He frowned and gazed past her shoulder to the hallway, his eyes seeing far into the past. “That dark form was Balthazar’s signature. I recognized the markings on his body.”

Daria stepped closer to Jason, suddenly wanting the warmth of his arms, the heat of his body, something to stop the shivers. “And Alice? What makes you think she’s alive?”

He shrugged absently. “Just a gut feeling.” His eyes focused on her nearness and he folded his arms around her. “Cold?”

She leaned her forehead against his chest. “Not anymore.”

Gut feelings didn’t exactly make for solid evidence, but if Jason thought Alice was alive, that was reason enough for Daria to worry. She didn’t lack confidence that Jason loved her. Rather, she worried Alice would come to take him away. No girl wanted an ex to show up. Especially one back from the dead.

His golden eyes peered down at her and his half-hearted smile pierced her heart. “It’s been a crazy night,” he admitted, tucking her hair behind her ear. “But you did great. I couldn’t have gotten Candy here without you.”

She didn’t do anything except follow his lead. Daria knew he said it for her benefit, to reassure her that they had things under control. Yet oddly, she had never felt things had gone awry until his reassurance, just now.

Jason had always stood steadfast and stalwart. A solid rock. Except now she saw some cracks. Balthazar, and the possibility of Alice’s resurrection, affected him more than he let on.

“You still love me, right?”

A bemused smile lit his face. “For years now. Did you think that Al—”

“Then stop trying to carry the world on your shoulders,” she chided. “Sure, I don’t like it that your last love interest might be hanging around. But what I hate even more is when you don’t tell me what you’re thinking.”

She led him to sit on the couch and held his hand in hers. With a patient smile and—she hoped—a fortified heart, she asked, “Now tell me what’s really bothering you.”

He laughed. “You’re starting to know me
too
well.” Jason leaned his head back on the couch and sighed. “I guess I started to wonder if it would be easier to kill them.”

Her heart thumped at his confession. If he didn’t kill, he could heal. If he did, she’d benefit, too. She stood at a crossroad, one filled with light and life, the other flooded with death and safety, not knowing which she’d choose.

When she saw the dilemma constricting Jason’s face in torment, she had her answer.

“The fact that you have to think about it at all should tell you what you must do,” she pointed out. His brows rose as she added, “Other people just kill. They don’t obsess over it.”

Daria leaned against him, glad this wonderful man had a conscience and a heart. With a quick laugh she admonished, “Just get over it. You’re not made to kill.”

For a moment, his body sat stiff against hers. Gradually, he relaxed and he threw an arm around her shoulder.

“What else?” she probed.

“I’m worried Balthazar will come after you.”

For her? That demon came for Jason. She was sure of it. But it touched her to know after everything that happened, her safety remained paramount in his considerations. He really did love her. Above all else.

“I have all of you protecting me. You don’t need to worry.”

Jason glanced out the window, his forehead creased in a frown. “The shield around the house isn’t impenetrable. There’s still risk.”

She needed a little more time. Just a few more hours and surely she’d be able to protect everyone. She’d never let anything happen to him, to any of them. If she had to sacrifice her life to protect her friends, she would.

Daria pressed her body closer, molding it to his, and breathed in a whiff of fresh laundry, soap, and a mild aftershave. If such a smell was all she could have for the rest of her life, she would be happy.

“As long as I’m with you, I feel safe,” she whispered.

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head and she smiled against him, feeling more loved than she ever had in her life.

Jason remained quiet for a while, seemingly content to continue stroking her hair. Then he murmured, “We’re going to marry even if it costs me my life.”

His vehement vow, a plea of despair as well as hope, sent shivers through her body. She didn’t want him under all that pressure. Marriage paled in importance to what she’d already gained.

Daria sat back and locked her hands behind his neck. “The love was all I needed.” She pressed her lips to his tenderly, conveying all the feelings she still didn’t have a chance to voice. She caressed him, her hands trailing across his jaw to his neck and shoulders. Their kiss was sweet and gentle, as though they had all the time in the world to explore each other, as though death didn’t knock on their door.

Jason lifted his head. “I love you. Nothing and no one, dead or alive, will change that.”

Tears stung her eyes from his declaration. She couldn’t imagine life without him anymore. If that was love, then she had fallen a long time ago.

“Jason, I . . .” Her cheeks heated.

He gave her a curious stare, waiting for her to finish her thought.

“I . . .” Her voice broke and she swallowed hard.

She didn’t get to finish. A rush of feet sounded on the polished floor just as a soft buzz came from another part of the house.

Miller burst into the room. “It’s Damien. He’s outside and hurt.”

Jason’s jaw hardened as he leapt to his feet. “I left my sword out there. And your shield prevents me from changing.”

Daria tripped in her hurry to stand. She grabbed his arm. “Be careful.”

He covered her hand with his and nodded.

“I’ll be right behind you,” Miller assured.

“No,” Jason rasped. “Stay here and protect Daria and Candy. Let me out but do not let anything get in.”

Daria ran to keep up with his long strides. She half-expected him to tell her to stay inside the house. But he didn’t, seeming to forget that she trotted behind. The crisp night air greeted them as they hurried to the gate.

Jason picked up his sword from the gravel. “Open the gate.”

No one moved. She supposed Miller wondered the same thing she did. Where was Damien?

An eerie silence spread along Sheridan Road. Unlit street lamps and the lack of passing cars left the dusky road desolate of life. Then with the whispering hiss of a newly lit match, the evening burst alive with a trail of fire scalding the asphalt.

A buzz sounded and the gate creaked open. With the opening measuring no more than a foot, Jason stepped outside. Another buzz sounded and the gate began to close. A chill entered the air. She knew that feeling well now. It happened whenever Jason was angry or when he needed to face an enemy.

For a second, she thought the shadows tricked the light. First the wristbands widened, the ominous black cuffs covering several inches down his wrist. A thin silver thread extended from the bands to the ground before vanishing. Then a black ripple encased his shoulders and arms, and flowed down to end into the hem of a long coat. A strong breeze broke through and pushed back his shoulder-length hair.

Fear scaled her arms and she rubbed them to stay warm. He had changed into the one who had first saved her in the alleyway, the one who left her witless from fright. Cold danger seeped into every step, his threatening presence creating what felt like an ocean’s distance between them instead of the few feet he now stood from her.

This form of his scared her, but it didn’t matter to her what form he took. He could turn into a killing machine. He could become a coward. He could change into the devil himself and she would still stay by his side.

Because she loved him.

Jason watched Damien blast a blazing fire between him and his attackers. His back faced the house and his hunched stance suggested he bowled over in pain. The enemies stayed beyond the flames. Some came as old, fat men with balding curls and floppy ears; others, rotting carcasses with putrid green pus oozing out from gaping orifices. Some appeared as winged skeletons. Their forms varied but all radiated evil.

No clear leader stood amongst the mishmash of demons, but he didn’t believe this throng had come on its own.

The crowd lunged for Damien. He raised his hands to the sky and the wall of fire burst to double his height. Sharp shrieks split the night and when the fire settled down, charred bodies littered the ground.

Jason pushed forward.

“I don’t need your help!” Damien bellowed.

If Damien hadn’t wanted their help, then he shouldn’t have called. Jason wouldn’t fault Damien for his pride, but this really wasn’t the time.

Malevolent eyes turned to the gate. They had seen Daria, and their insatiable hunger for her flesh and blood, their lust for power and immortality, made them reckless.

They ran for her.

Jason swung his sword high, cutting the leg off a demon. Damien launched a fireball his way. He ducked. Someone screamed behind him before the gate banged shut.
Good. Now to focus on the attackers before them.

Jason ran to Damien, who glared at him. “I said I didn’t need your help,” he grumbled.

Several deep gashes cut across Damien’s stomach, evidence of mauling from razor-sharp claws. His black shirt helped to hide the injury and only the flickering flames revealed any blood, though he’d probably lost a lot of it.

Jason wouldn’t be able to heal him here. It would have to wait until they got inside. He scanned the crowd but didn’t see any creature capable of causing such severe wounds.

“A shadow.” Damien gestured toward the dark street. “I never saw the bastard’s face.”

Fear crawled up Jason’s spine. Had Balthazar left them and gone straight to Damien? When had the demon’s powers grown to such heights that even Damien could be injured? And if Balthazar truly lived, why had he waited so long to reveal himself?

The questions plagued his thoughts, but he didn’t have time to dwell. Behind the ranks of demons came a cry of death. He and Damien stiffened, preparing for another attack.

A flash of brilliant light broke the darkness and Jason relaxed. He placed his hand on Damien’s shoulder. “Your favorite person is here,” Jason murmured.

Damien spat. “I don’t need that asshole’s help.”

They watched demons annihilated, one after another from behind, with the bursts of light the only evidence of the intruder. Blood stained the ground until it flowed like red rain. It disappeared until the next deluge replaced it. Arms and legs splayed everywhere. And as Jason stood as merely an observer, he wondered if he was still culpable, maybe even guiltier, for doing nothing.

He heard a gasp behind him, spun around, and realized it was too late. “Don’t look!”

Daria’s hands pressed against the bars as she gaped with ashen lips at the killing, her face white and her eyes wide with horror. He didn’t want her to see this part of his world, didn’t want her burden to grow even greater.

Miller tugged at her arm but her hands tightened on the gate.

“Please stop looking,” Jason begged.

Her vacant eyes focused on his with a faint flicker of recognition. Then she blinked and tensed. Her lips parted in a strangled scream. Peeling her fingers from their death grip, her entire body shook as she pointed into the street.

But Jason already knew. Beside him, Damien cursed.

Alastor strode to them, his hair shortening to its human length, his long black trench fading into the night as though never there. Only the glowing sword in his hand remained, blood dripping down its length from tip to hilt.