Cursed (Demon Kissed #2) (11 page)

He looked away. “Ivy, it doesn’t
matter now.”

“
Yes, it does.” I bit my
lip, trying to restrain my emotions. Why didn’t he understand? I
blinked slowly, calming myself, and tried to explain. “Eric, I
don’t know where we stand. Are you saying that you want to be my
friend? Is that what you mean? Your Martis brain shorted out and
you decided to befriend the enemy for real?”

He laughed, “I don’t know
what I decided. I just saw you with him—I could see you through the
mist. It didn’t conceal you. Not the way you thought. I saw you
holding him in your arms and…” he looked away. “I thought the
Martis were wrong about you. Evil creatures cannot love. The way
you looked at him…the way you protected him. It reminded me of
everything I lost. It reminded me of what I would have done to save
her. I didn’t have the chance, but you did. And I wasn’t going to
be the one to take it away. I decided the Martis were wrong about
you. Ivy, I
am
a
traitor. I damned myself. That’s why I didn’t speak. There was
nothing to say because…they were right.” He rose and brushed the
dirt off his jeans. The sleeves of his white dress shirt were caked
with streaks of dirt. He batted at it, but I pulled him toward
me.

When his eyes met mine, I said, “They
weren’t right about you. You’re not a traitor. You just see more
than they do. You’re willing to look past the traits that damned
me, and see the girl trapped beneath.” His amber eyes were intense,
drinking in everything I said as if he were parched. “I still have
a soul. I’m still alive. You knew that and refused to destroy me.
That makes you courageous, not a traitor.” I dropped my hand, and
looked away.

The Martis were so blind. How could
they not see Eric for what he was? But then, I wasn’t exactly
certain what he was either. I sighed, “So, we both have a price on
our heads, then?” He nodded. “Well, good thing I took you with me.
So, what now? Are you going to try to stop me from doing the
stupidest thing I’ve ever done?”

His lips curled into a lopsided smile,
“What are you going to do, Ivy?” I walked over to one of the tombs.
The painting that covered the fresco was aged. The colors were no
longer vibrant like those in the book, but the two angels with
flaming swords were there. This was the right place. I just didn’t
know what to do.

Eric walked up behind me, “This is the
entrance, isn’t it? You’re going after him?”

I turned, “I have to. I can’t leave
Collin there. He took my place, Eric.” Turning back to the wall, I
ran my fingers along the aged plaster wondering how to get inside.
“And I can’t stay here. The Martis won’t stop until they have my
head on a stick. It looks like I’m destined to meet Kreturus one
way or another. This is supposed to be the way in. See the flaming
swords and the Valefar scar staining the wall behind the angels?”
Eric nodded, as he approached the grave. “The entrance is here.
Somewhere. I just don’t know how to get in.”

Desperation laced my thoughts. I came
here too soon, but I had no other choice. I didn’t get to ask Al
anything about this. Surely she would have known if I was in the
right place and how to open the portal. She knew everything. But I
was denied that opportunity. I walked along the narrow space,
dragging my fingers against the wall.

Eric asked, “If I tell you how to get
inside, will you take me with you?”

I snapped my neck around, “What? What
did you say?”

“
I’ll open it if you take
me with you.”

“
Why?” I asked folding my
arms against my chest. It was a suicide mission, and he had no
reason to go.

“
I have to finish my
mission. I swore I would prevent the prophecy from occurring the
way the Martis thought. It’s not you that worries me—it’s Kreturus.
You can’t go into the Underworld alone, unprotected. And I can’t
stay here either. The Martis are after both of us.”

I bit my lip. He shouldn’t come. I
should say no and send him back. He was better off staying topside
and running from Martis, rather than being eaten by Valefar
below.

I shook my head and spoke with certain
resolve as I turned back toward the fresco. “No, I can’t ask you to
come with me. I have to do this alone. I caused this to happen. I
have to fix it.” I touched the plaster again looking for anything
to indicate an opening. I needed Eric, but I couldn’t ask him to do
this.

He laughed and grabbed my shoulder,
turning me around. Shock showed on my face, as he laughed, “You
really think you can tell me no? You think you can make me stay
here and hide until you get back—if you get back? And then what?
The Martis see that they were wrong and all is forgiven? No. Things
don’t work like that and you know it.

“
And what if you don’t
come back at all? What if Kreturus finds you as soon as you step
inside? He’ll catch your scent, with the faint smell of angel blood
that flows through your veins. His demons will drag you back to
him. That’s the part that scares me. Not only do I prefer you
alive, but if he gets you, he gets your power. The prophecy is
about him using you. I can’t let you go alone.” He released my
shoulder.

I stared at him and felt my jaw lock.
I didn’t want him to come. Asking him to take this risk because of
me was unfathomable. But, I recognized that look in his eye. It was
the same utterly determined gaze that I knew well. It was clear
that it didn’t matter what I said, Eric would do what he thought
was right. There was no stopping him. I just hoped I was getting
saintly Eric, and not evil Eric. There was no way to
know.

I folded my arms and said, “Fine. Show
me how to open it.”

“
Not so fast,” he said,
blocking the fresco. “The living can’t enter the Underworld. Both
of us are alive. You need to seal yourself so the demons can’t
sense you. And so the Guardian can’t tell you’re alive. They need
to think you’re a Valefar. They need to think that both of us are
Valefar.”

“
Damn it,” I pushed my
hair out of my face, annoyed that I’d already forgotten things Al
had told me. “I forgot about the Guardian. Al said it would be the
worst thing I could imagine.” I paused wondering what that would
be. The worst thing I could imagine wasn’t possible. It already
happened. Apryl already died. Collin was already in Hell. “I don’t
know what the Guardian will be.” Uncertainty plagued my stomach,
but I had no choice but to go forward. I had to take this path.
There was no going backwards. “I know how to trick them into
thinking we’re Valefar—both of us.”

I concentrated, and pressed my finger
against the ruby in my ring. Shadows slinked from their hiding
places in the cracks and crevices of the tomb. The cold fingers of
shadows stroked my skin making me shiver. They were impossibly
cold. I pulled as many shadows as I could tolerate. They coated my
skin as they traveled down my throat and pooled in my stomach. The
shadows would shroud me, locking in my scent, as long as I held
them in place. They reeked of death and decay. That fragrance would
mask my scent well enough. I’d have to get used to the discomfort
of their corpse-like coldness inside of me. As for Eric, he was a
pure Martis. His blood smelled like a Christmas buffet. I had to
mask it with something stronger. Shadows alone wouldn’t
work.

Looking around the ancient tomb, I
what I needed and decided to do it. There were no other options.
Surely the deceased wouldn’t mind. I walked to a pile of bones
stacked neatly to the ceiling, and squatted down. I pressed my
fingers into the dirt looking for something that would
work—something that would be small enough.

I needed a shard, a single
small piece of human bone. The bones of the dead would amplify the
shadow’s ability to conceal Eric’s scent. It would smell of someone
long deceased. I honestly didn’t know what I was doing, or if it
would even work. But, it had to work. Something inside me told me
that it would. But, I needed something to bind the shadow to the
bone, too. What was powerful enough to do that? And it had to be
something within my reach.
Just find the
bone, Ivy.
I thought to myself.
Figure out the rest later.
My fingers pressed against something smooth and hard. I dug
it out of the earth. Eric asked what I was doing. I ignored him,
and continued to dig it out. The bone shard was the size of my
pinkie, and perfectly smooth. I cracked it in half and threw the
other piece on the ground.

Turning to Eric I held up the bone and
said, “You’ll have to wear this around your neck.” He looked at me
oddly for a moment, and then nodded.

Now the hard part. I had to infuse the
bone with shadow and keep it there. I focused and called the
shadows to me, and when they responded I redirected them into the
bone. I felt the shard turn icy cold in my hand. It worked! But,
when I stopped focusing and trying to control them, the shadows
spilled out. A bone wasn’t a shadow container. It wasn’t enough.
There was nothing to hold them in place. What kept the shadows
inside of me from spilling out?

Nothing.

They just stayed because I told them
to. I looked at the bone. Talking to it wasn’t going to do
anything. No, that had to be only part of it. The shadows came
because I called them. But why did they stay? What held them inside
of me? I rubbed my finger along the sharp edge of the bone. It was
a nervous habit. I fidgeted when I was tense. And it was a good
thing too. By accident, a spike on the shard snagged my pinky and
opened up a bright red wound. Blood seeped out and the bone soaked
it up like a sponge. I looked at the bone, still white, but the
tiny drop of blood was gone.

Acting on instinct, I pressed my
finger hard across the jagged edge of bone. The flesh tore open and
a scarlet drop of blood appeared on my fingertip. The bone was old
and porous. Its tiny holes absorbed the blood flowing from my
finger like a dry quill soaking up ink. Eric and I both knew that
the substance that flowed through my veins was nearly entirely
demon blood, with very little Martis left. Demon blood was
powerful. That must be what commands the shadows and contains them.
It’s not my mind that controls the shadows—it’s my
blood.

When I was done, I swallowed hard
wondering if Eric would take it. He detested demon blood. I handed
the bone amulet to Eric wondering what he would do. I also wondered
what it meant if he took it. “It has to touch your skin or it won’t
work.”

Eric took the bone, nodding. He
attached it to one of the woven necklaces he always wore. I
expected him to say something, but he didn’t. He quietly threaded
the bone and hung it around his neck. Then he hid it under his
shirt against his chest.

When he looked up, he asked, “Are you
wearing Apryl’s necklace?”

I nodded, as my hand reached for the
necklace. Feeling the pendant beneath my fingers reassured me in a
way I didn’t understand. The ivory peonies were rough against my
fingers while the brimstone disc was smooth against my thumb. I
never took it off. My sister had sent it back with my Celestial
Silver comb last year before she died. It was the last piece of her
that I had. It was stupid, but when I wore that necklace, I felt
like she was there with me.

But, why did Eric want it? What would
Apryl’s necklace do? Understanding flashed across my face. I smiled
and said, “It opens the portal, doesn’t it? The same way it did the
night the Valefar used it to open the portal on Long Island? It’s a
key.” He nodded. Apryl had a key to the Underworld. I sighed, not
understanding why she had it or the comb. “I wish I’d gotten my
comb back. I can’t stand that they have it.”

Eric ran his fingers along the wall
slowly until they sunk into a small round depression next to the
fresco with the the Valefar mark. “They don’t have it. I do,” Eric
turned, reaching into his pocket, and withdrew a silver gleaming
comb with a purple butterfly set in stones.

I threw my arms around him before
taking it out of his hands. He smiled at me and then turned back to
the wall.

I squealed, “Oh my God! Thank you!
How’d you get it? They took it from me. I thought I’d never see it
again.” I couldn’t wipe the shocked smile off my face.

“
Yeah, well, let’s just
say a Martis shouldn’t be without celestial silver. And no one
bothered to search me. I knew if things went badly that they would
take mine away. And they did. I had to make sure we had
something—and yours was easy to take. So I took it.”

“
Eric! You stole it?” I
asked, completely shocked.

“
No!” He looked offended.
“It’s yours. I was going to return it to you, should the time come.
And it did.” He removed his finger from the indentation in the
wall. “Ivy, press the pendant on the necklace into this slot.
Brimstone side facing out.” He backed away from the wall and my
Brimstone necklace.

“
When did you know that
the disc on my necklace was Brimstone?” He trusted me more than I
thought. One flick, one tiny wound from my pendant, and he’d
die.

“
I was the Seeker,
remember?” He pointed at my necklace and said, “The Kreturic
Pendant and the Prophecy One would find each other. I didn’t
recognize it at first. It wasn’t until I found out your mark was
purple that I pieced it together. The pendant marks the Prophecy
One.”