Bound by Light (57 page)

The cutest little Satan’s spawn ever started to cry from the second floor of the brownstone, and Cynda leaped up to go see to her daughter before Neala burned up yet another set of draperies.

Cynda, Riana, Creed, Nick, and Merilee had all been staying at the brownstone since the battle with the Leviathan. The new mommies and daddies needed help with their infants, and the townhouse on the Upper East Side was just too jam-packed and chaotic. Every day, it seemed like they were dealing with more OCU trainees, not to mention the influx of Astaroths who had decided they wanted to be of use in the human world.

And . . . Merilee and her triad all just wanted to be together for a while. They had been talking a lot, eating a ton of chips and cookies and ice cream, fighting about the messes Merilee made, patrolling, and spending long hours repairing all the damage to the downstairs area.

It was almost like old times.

Except for the husbands.

And the babies.

And the Jake-sized hole in Merilee’s heart.

She inhaled another rich breath of coffee and tried to let the delicious scent flow through her restless mind.

Six weeks and nineteen hours.

Merilee pulled away from Riana’s comforting touch, and her hand rested against the talisman she never took off. Just for good measure, she mentally ordered Jake to come home to her, as she had so many times over every single day he had been missing. Or restoring. Or whatever Darian kept trying to explain about where Astaroths went when they weren’t "Below."

"I think—" Merilee started. Then stopped. She took a deep breath and made herself look Riana in the eye. "I think tonight’s a good night for me to go home. If you and Cynda think you can handle it from here. I’d like to make sure Andy’s space is all cleaned up and demon-free."

Riana nodded slowly, studying Merilee in that deep way only a triad’s mortar could do—like she was searching for cracks in Merilee’s foundation, for any fissure in her logic and self-control. "Creed’s hours should be getting more sane come Monday," she said, "when Andy gets back from Greece. Nick’s also taking two weeks off to spell Cynda awhile." She leaned back in her chair and stretched, obviously needing more sleep herself, even though little Ethan was more peaceful than Neala. "I’m really glad Andy decided to be OCU captain
and
a Mother. It just didn’t seem right, not having her in the city—but building the new water Sibyl Motherhouse on Kérkira to be closer to the Greek Mothers was a good idea."

Merilee laughed out loud. "
You
don’t have to live on that island, do you?" She laughed again, then stopped before she brought on tears. That had been happening since Jake went missing. Everything seemed to lead back to tears. Aware that Riana was studying her again, Merilee shrugged off her sudden wave of moroseness with, "Oh, well. They have lots of earthquakes in the Ionian Sea. Who’ll notice a few random tidal waves?"

"Water Sibyls." Riana shook her head. "Kinda cool that they came back into existence during our lifetime, isn’t it—and that
we
found the first one?"

Merilee turned her right arm over and studied her revised tattoo, and so did Riana. It was still a mortar, pestle, and broom in triangular points around a dark crescent moon—only now the points were connected with subtle, slightly rolling lines, like gentle swells in the ocean. The lines symbolized water, the element that flowed between them all, and bound them ever more tightly together. Every Sibyl in the world now bore the new mark—or rather the old mark—of the Dark Crescent Sisterhood.

Yeah. Definitely cool that water Sibyls were among them again.

Young women with water talents were arriving every day at the new Motherhouse, and babies were beginning to be presented for training. They were coming from everywhere, all over the world, as if the universe understood the need for trainees of all ages.

In a generation, triads would become quads, and fighting would get . . . a lot more interesting. Not to mention wet.

"You’re sure about going?" Riana’s question was so soft and gentle that Merilee wanted to smack her, because it almost stirred up the tears she had so neatly tamped down just a second ago.

"I’m positive." She turned her tattoo back to the table, not wanting to lie to its face. "I think I’m ready."

Riana gave her another one of those mortar looks. "Do you promise you won’t lock yourself in your library and moon about Jake?"

"No. I don’t promise." Merilee finished her coffee in one long, satisfying gulp before thumping her mug on the table. "But I won’t have that much time, since we’ve got patrol tomorrow night."

Riana groaned. "Please don’t remind me. I thought with the Legion gone, we’d get to take a big fat rest, but nooooo."

"Evil never sleeps. Kind of like babies." Merilee pushed her chair back, took her mug to the sink, and came back to the table to give Riana a kiss on the cheek. "I’ll keep Ethan tomorrow if you need a break before we go out. And tell Cynda that Bela and I will watch Neala, too, if you whip us up another batch of burn ointment and get another crib for the gym."

"Stone walls. Stone floors." Riana pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes. Then she yawned. "Much better than all the paper in your library. I’ll bring the stuff—and the babies—around two?"

"And if Andy brings all the water babies back with her, we’ll have quite a gymful." Merilee grinned.

That would be pretty cool.

Merilee knew she needed to stay busy. And keep her mind off—

She sighed.

Jake.

Before Riana could start worrying all over again, Merilee plastered on a calm expression and raised both hands. "Not much mooning. Really. I swear."

Then she picked up her chip bags and tossed them, and left before her triad sister could call her a liar.

It didn’t take that long to kick all the stray Astaroths out of Andy’s room and get it spic-and-span for her return. Just an hour or so. Well, closer to two, and another hour to do a long yoga session and calm herself down. At least the physical labor helped Merilee burn off some of her fathomless, endless damned urges to cry.

She didn’t want to face her grief, couldn’t cope with it, but sooner or later, she’d have to.

Darian’s promises—well, Astaroths were brilliant, but they didn’t have major social skills. Merilee wasn’t certain, but she thought the demon just wanted her to feel better. Keep a little hope, so she didn’t fall completely into despair.

As she climbed the stairs back to her library, which no doubt needed a good dusting, she knew she had to start finding a way to handle how much she missed Jake. Every time she saw one of the winged demons drifting down a townhouse hallway—which would probably be a lot from now on—she’d think about him. And it would hurt.

But . . . he might not be coming back.

He probably wasn’t coming back.

Her throat closed as she pushed through the library door—but in a big hurry, her thoughts shifted to more immediate concerns.

"Okay, guys. Out. It’s after hours, and I’m home. Out. Out!"

Seven apologetic demons, including Darian, whisked toward her, paid their respects, then hurried on their way. She let them keep the books they were reading, of course. It would have been cruel to take reading material away from an Astaroth. They were like long, tall, pale demon-sponges. With wings. Always soaking up text and theory and whatever wisdom they could wrap their claws around.

Darian stopped at the door on his way out, brushed his graceful fingers against the pockets of his jeans, and regarded her with his eerie golden eyes. "Are you well?" he asked.

It did no good to lie to Astaroths, who in addition to being sponges, were also fairly decent living polygraph machines. "As well as can be expected," Merilee said, which was the best she could do.

Darian frowned. "The Leader—"

"Yeah, I know." Merilee fought the urge to slap the demon, or stick him in the ass with the first arrow she could find. "Jake will be back. So you keep saying, and I’m trying to believe you." She swallowed, feeling that ever-present lump coming right back to choke her up again. "I’m . . . desperate to believe you."

Darian’s golden gaze faltered, and he looked away. "His volumes are still being written. I’m certain he’s Above, just in deeper places. He had much healing to do."

"But you haven’t actually seen him."

Darian hesitated and still didn’t meet her eyes. Finally, he shook his head.

Merilee turned her back on him before she burst into tears.

The Astaroth left so quietly Merilee wouldn’t have known he was gone if the door hadn’t closed behind him with a soft little thump.

She moved around the library, opening all the windows to let in the air, to welcome the wind and let it touch her deep inside, where she needed the comfort.

Then she dusted.

For hours.

Every shelf. Every book. Every knickknack and paperweight and bracket in the whole damned library. She neatened her notebooks, sharpened her pencils, and even restacked her stacks. By the time she was done, her forehead was creased with sweat, her jeans were a dusty mess, and her blouse was the same color as the rags she pitched in the trash near the balcony doors. She had to strip off her clothes and take a long shower to get all the layers of filth off.

When she pulled on her thick white robe and walked back to the library, to the open balcony doors, she felt better.

Aching, tired—but a little more organized than usual. And better.

And she wasn’t crying.

At least until she thought about not crying.

Shit.

Merilee put her face in her hands and sobbed, feeling the yawning, all-consuming emptiness twist her insides into one big painful knot.

This was never going to get better.

She was never going to get over this. Not ever.

A soft thump behind her made her gather a burst of her wind in one fist and whirl around to hurl it at whichever demon hadn’t gotten the after-hours message loud and clear.

Merilee stopped mid-pitch. Her mouth came open and her heart started a wild
pound-pound
she could feel in her neck, her face, her fingers—everywhere.

Jake.

Air energy rushed out of her hand before she could yank it back, the blast knocking over books and sending all the curtains swirling. Some even ripped off their rods and drifted, diaphanous, to the hardwood floor.

Jake.

She blinked to make sure she wasn’t fantasizing, but the image didn’t change.

Jake was standing in the open balcony doorway wearing nothing but a pair of sin-tight jeans. He had wings—but the rest of him was totally solid and totally human. All scar and muscle and tan and . . . and . . .

"Jake." Merilee heard herself say his name, but she still didn’t believe what she was seeing, even though her whole body had started to hum.

He glanced at her upraised hand, then fixed his gorgeous gray-blue eyes on hers. "You can hit me," he said in the low, delectable bass she had been craving for so many hours, days, and weeks. "But if you slap me, I get to give you that spanking I promised you on Káto Ólimbos."

Gods and goddesses, did
that
image ever make her hotter than hell, total shock and idiotic flowing tears notwithstanding.

She lowered her hand, then lunged forward and slapped him so hard his head turned halfway to his shoulder.

"I can’t believe you stayed gone for a month and a half! I’ve almost cried my eyes right out of my head, you big demon idiot!"

Then she threw her arms around his neck and buried her face against his chest and cried.

"I’m so sorry it took me so long." He rocked her and kissed her head, stroking her shoulders and back, massaging out the anger and pain and tension like he knew exactly which muscle to work and how hard. "I love you."

"I love you, too, so much." Merilee clung to him, trying to convince herself that the hard, sculpted flesh was real. That Jake was here. That he was hers. "I ordered you back. Your talisman—I ordered you back a hundred times."

He pulled away from her enough to look into her face and smile. "Each command gave me strength, healed me a little more. You pulled me closer."

"Do you want to wear it now?" She let go of him and gripped the necklace, and a big, rippling shudder went through him.

He covered her hand with his, pressing the necklace into her fingers and chest. "It’s yours forever, just like me—if you want me, that is."

Merilee stared at him, slack-jawed, feeling every place he touched her like a blast of sweet, hot wind. "If I want you? You are kidding, right?"

Jake’s expression was totally serious as he ran his fingers through her hair, then traced the small scar on her jaw. "I’ve been able to use my biosentience to get better with my human form again, but it isn’t very consistent. I shift a lot, and I can’t promise I won’t wind up stuck in my Astaroth form for long stretches."

Merilee lifted her eyebrows. "You think a little pale skin and a few claws can spook me? My goddaughter—your niece—might burn down the townhouse tomorrow. Now
she’s
scary."