Dark Hope (The Devil's Assistant) (37 page)

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Authors: H.D. Smith

Tags: #urban fantasy

BOOK: Dark Hope (The Devil's Assistant)
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He was in my face, but I wasn’t afraid he’d kiss me, this time. He was too angry for that. “Where is it?”

“What?” I gasped, barely able to breathe.

“Where’s the tiny piece of Jack I need to collect?”

“What?” Again, I touched my belly. “No. Not the baby.” Tears welled. “I didn’t do anything. I swear it. It can’t be gone.”

“Yet, it is.” His nails dug into my wrist.

The beat of my heart pounded loudly in my head. The baby was gone. I’d never see its heartbeat on the ultrasound or feel its kick. The crackle of power streamed to the surface. Wisps of energy covered my hand.

Mace was too close. He was suffocating me. I wanted him off. I needed him away. If he saw the truth in my eyes that I didn’t know what happened to the baby, he’d be more reasonable.

I put my left hand to his face, hoping to push him back with the building power. On contact with his skin, a pulse of energy surged into the room as his eyes fixed on mine. Everything went quiet.

I took in a ragged breath. A tiny vein under his eye twitched. It beat a fast staccato, increasing when he realized he couldn’t move. His eyes were angry, confused, and scared. He wasn’t in control, and he knew it.

“Let me go,” I whispered.

His hands loosened then fell away. With my hand still on his face, he stepped back giving me room to breathe. Our gazes stayed locked. He was trapped, but the power he was using to fight my hold hadn’t let up.

“Stop fighting me.”

His body relaxed, but his mind continued to struggle.

My grip trembled, but I didn’t let go or break eye contact. The power felt like the suggestions I’d made before, only stronger. It was like all the magic I could do had a taste, and the more power that was needed, the stronger the taste. I could recognize it now by taste, or by mentally picturing the geodes.

“Was there ever a baby?” I had no doubts before, and Mace’s actions had given me no reason to, but I wanted to hear him say it.

A vein at his eye continued to twitch. “Yes.”

His resistance was making me weak, but I focused on his eyes ignoring how the power of the spell was draining my body. “What happened to it?”

“Stolen. Lost. Destroyed.”

Destroyed? Did Mace think I’d killed the baby? Stolen? Who could have taken it
? “Did you tell anyone about it?”

“No.”

My concentration waned, and I almost lost eye contact. I had to hurry. “Could you tell it was Jack’s?”

“No.”

Not that it mattered, but I’d hoped he’d been sure.

I was losing focus; my hold was crumbling. The power to trap him was too draining. It would slip through my fingers soon. “You’re going to forget about the baby,” I said. “I was never pregnant.”

“You were never pregnant,” he repeated as my energy dropped, and I fell to the floor at his feet.

I could hear the whirl of the air conditioner and the hum of the florescent lights. The dead quiet of the spell was gone.

Mace backed away. He bent and pressed his right palm against his temple then touched the side of his face where my hand had been. “What did you do?” he wheezed.

I rubbed my palm. It was warm to the touch.

Mace yanked me off the floor, the sudden movement making me dizzy. “Answer me,” he shouted. He threw me onto the cot when my legs gave out. He leaned over me, pulling me to a sitting position, then pushing my back against the bars as he squeezed my neck.

“I-I don’t know what happened.”

Without meaning to, I rubbed my palm again. Mace clasped my wrist, but dropped it quickly as if it burned him. His hand tightened around my throat. “We spoke. What was said?”

“I swear I have no idea.”

His eyes narrowed and he jerked me forward—so close our heads were touching. His nostrils flared. He was angry. “You’re lying.”

I could feel the anger rolling off him like waves, but I sensed no conviction in his voice when he called me a liar. It was like he couldn’t see the lie, but was sure I had lied. I was sure it was the spell. We’d spoken about the baby, but he was told to forget about the baby, which must be confusing his truth sense. I doubted I’d broken his ability completely where I was concerned, but about this one thing—the baby—he couldn’t see the truth.

“You’d know if I
was
lying. You can see the truth
,
you just don’t want to believe it.” Trying to focus his attention on something else, I said, “You came down here for something. What was it?”

Looking down, as if trying to find the answer in his mind. He closed his eyes. A moment later he pushed himself off me and stood.

Glancing at the stairs, he pointed as if remembering then moved his finger over to the bars on the cell door, as if retracing his steps in his mind. Scratching the back of his head, he looked toward the stairs again then back at me, brows furrowed. He couldn’t remember. He eyed my left arm and fisted the hand he’d burned.

“Maybe it’s a don’t touch what’s hers reminder,” I suggested, as if Mab’s mark had somehow caused his pain.

He cocked an eyebrow. He could pretend I belonged to him all he wanted, but we both knew Mab called the shots. He flexed his hand. “You should hope she gives you to me or,” he glanced around the cell, “this could be your new reality for years.”

As if life as his slave would be any better.

He opened the cell door to leave. Glancing back, he said, “The Deeps may not be as forgiving next time. No one’s ever the same when they return.”

That record was still safe. He wouldn’t understand, but I would never be the same. I dropped my gaze from his smug expression.

“I suggest you cooperate when you return,” Mace said. “She can be cruel if you don’t.”

Was he serious? Did he actually think what she’d done so far was tame? I peered at him. “She dropped me into a hole for a hundred years. I had a conscious mind until I turned to dust and blew away on the wind. I’m more sure of what she’s capable of than you can possibly imagine.” The absurdity of his warning was laughable.
He
had no clue what she was capable of.

“We leave in an hour.”

After he left, I slumped back. Mace’s visit
had
, again, left more questions than answers. I put my hand on my belly and brushed away a tear. First Jayne, now the baby.

A calm peacefulness washed over me—Death. I sat up straighter. My eyes darted around the room. “Show yourself...please.”

He materialized. His face was passive, but his look was intense.

“Why are you here?” I asked.

“Selfishness, I suppose,” Death replied.

Selfishness
? “What do you mean?”

He slid the wooden crate over and sat facing me. I had a feeling he was trying to see my soul. He stretched out a hand, but withdrew when I shied away from it.

“I know you know,” he said.

I shook my head. “I—”

“Don’t worry,” he interrupted. “I should make you forget, but I won’t. I can’t.”

I studied him. His expression hadn’t changed. His gaze was on fire, but his body language was calm. He claimed he wouldn’t, no couldn’t, take my memories, but why? “Why can’t you take them?”

“Selfish, remember.”

Did he see something of her in me? “I don’t understand what you mean? Do I look like her?”

“No,” he said. “It’s your blood.”

“I know it’s from the fourth realm, but—”

“No. It’s not
from
the fourth realm.” The longing in his eyes was clear. He touched my face gently. His calming influence intensified. “You have
her
blood.”

I gasped. “What?”

He leaned forward as I pulled back. I had the blood of Jayne, not just fourth realm blood, but
her blood
. Was that where my Jayne had come from?

“You’re all that remains of her,” he said, sending another wave of his influence.

I shook my head. “Stop,” I said. “Don’t do this.” I couldn’t let the calm, relaxed, peacefulness that felt like Heaven make me lose focus.

“Don’t be afraid,” he said, backing away putting space between us. “I won’t hurt you. I can’t hurt you.”

Death sat with his hands resting in his lap. I stayed against the bars. It felt good to have him touching me, but the emotions weren’t real. He wanted to be near me because of Jayne. The only reason he wouldn’t hurt me was because I was all that was left of her.

He’d been forced to kill the woman he loved
,
then cursed to love only her. I thought of Jack and the baby. Death’s true feelings weren’t for me, but I shouldn’t be so harsh. I wasn’t cursed, but my love was just as lost. I would never see Jack again if Mace had his way, and if I somehow managed to survive this and was saved by The Boss, he’d remove Jack for failing at his job—and the baby was gone. Death was only trying to be close to the thing he loved the most. It just happened to be a part of me.

I flinched when his hands lifted
,
although it was more of a reaction to everything that had been happening to me, not necessarily because he was Death.

He stilled. “You’re sad,” he said. “Let me help you.”

“There isn’t anything you can do.”

“I can comfort you.”

His eyes were bright—hopeful—but the peacefulness he caused was an illusion. Not something I should let myself get lost in.

“Or I can go,” he said, staring at his hands again resting in his lap, dejected.

I couldn’t send him away. “You can stay.”

He moved from the crate to sit beside me. My initial thought was to push him away, but the happiness and longing in his eyes stopped me. He’d been without his love for so long. It was an illusion, but I was the only one who could give it to him. He wanted to hold me—part of me wanted to be held.

Giving in to that desire, I rested my head on his chest, sinking into his embrace. I fell asleep cradled in his arms.

~ * ~

I woke as the door to the basement opened. I was cold, as if the warm body I’d been with had suddenly disappeared. Death didn’t have a smell, but the buzz from his touch lingered a moment longer. I was surprised to see my visitor was Cinnamon.

I stretched my arms and neck. “What do you want?”

“Mace is ready for you.”

“Since when are you his puppet?”

Her eyebrows rose. “Get up now, or you’ll regret it.”

I didn’t jump to my feet. I wasn’t afraid of her. There were bigger monsters in my life. Cinnamon was barely a guppy in that pond.

“Now,” she said.

I slowly got to my feet.

She smiled. “Have we broken you, Claire?”

“Claire turned to dust earlier today. I’m who’s left. You could say I’ve had enough.”

She raised an eyebrow, probably thinking I was kidding. “If you—”

“Please.” I held up my hand. Her threats would be wasted on me, and I really didn’t want to hear them. “Dust, remember. Are you really going to be able to top that?”

Her smile dropped.

Harry didn’t seem to think telling Cinnamon would change anything. I was hoping he was wrong. “You shouldn’t do this. You don’t need revenge. Mace is going to get you both screwed by Mab. Junior will die if you don’t refuse to help.”

I didn’t go into all the specifics with her, but I’d given her enough reasons to back out. Mentally I found the geode for Mace’s spell. Holding the power of it in my mind, I tapped Cinnamon’s hand as I left the cell. A tiny static charge went from me to her.

“Even you deserve the truth,” I said as her eyes rolled back in her head, and she dropped to the floor.

I stepped over her body and continued up the stairs. The boys were waiting, but didn’t immediately realize Cinnamon wasn’t behind me. She’d follow soon enough.

Mace barked orders. “You’ll get us in through the portal in Junior’s office, without setting off any alarms.”

If he thought I was an expert on how to use the company portals he was about to be disappointed.

“She seems so willing to help, brother.” Cinnamon’s voice came from behind me. “Whatever did you do to convince her?”

He ignored her.

She was plucking the last pin out of her hair. She tilted her head toward me, but not enough for the others to notice.

That was the only acknowledgement I was getting, but I was hoping she’d go all I’m-in-charge-now-Cinnamon and put a stop to Mace’s plan. Unfortunately, she didn’t do anything, and I quickly decided Harry was right. She was going to let things play out.

She’d already made her choice.

“It’s time,” Mace said, opening a portal to his father’s building.

I had almost no experience with this type of travel, but I had the basics. Not tripping alarms wasn’t one of them. I thought of Junior’s office, put my hand on the surface then closed my eyes.

At least I wasn’t the one holding the gun.

Twenty Four

 

I slid through the portal into Junior’s office. I wanted this nightmare to end, but I hadn’t really considered what that meant. I was shocked to see his wide eyes staring back at me. At that moment, as he dropped his guard—just before Mace sidestepped me and pulled the trigger—I saw happiness.

“Claire,” Junior said before the bullet struck him between the eyes and killed him instantly.

The ringing in my ears from the gunshot pulled all my attention to the bloody wall behind him.

Junior was dead. I hadn’t shot him, but I was responsible for my actions. I’d let them in through the portal. I’d told them about Junior. There was no hope of returning to my old life now. My ears were still ringing when I heard the sound of voices arguing around me.

Sage and Sorrel were both pissed. They were awake now—the spell must be broken.

The hands of my watch were spinning around as they had many times before. They stopped when I concentrated on them and pointed back toward the portal. Was my watch trying to tell me to snap out of it and run? It didn’t matter. I took the advice and ran. I didn’t get very far, taking only one step toward the portal before I was thrown against the wall.

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