Love Beyond Sanity (9 page)

"Anyway, this being that has trapped you, and now me, in here needs your power. However, it probably needs you to own your power first and it probably doesn't know how to make you do that so you're stuck while it figures it out."

A lot of what Charma said made sense to him. It would explain why Self-loathing hated that he didn't know he was an Outsider.

"There is something I can do. Something terrible." He fisted his hands and refused to back down from his confession. She'd said harsh things to him earlier. She obviously held a low opinion of him, and he knew he would only make it worse now. But he didn't care.

She raised her eyebrows. "What's that?"

"I can stop someone's heart. I can literally destroy them from the inside out."

"Wow."

His hands clenched at his side. "That's all you can say?"

"I'm impressed. It's a rare gift. A body manipulator ranks amongst the strongest of our kind. Can you do it with animals? Mystical beings?"

"I have no fucking idea, Charma. I didn't know I could do it until I killed a mugger in a parking lot." He wanted to throw something. Seeing a rock lying next to one of the trees he picked it up and hurled it towards the lake water. Waves split the water in half where it landed. He didn't feel any better for the effort.

"Are you sure it was a mugger? Not one of the Others, the minions sent to get you by the Darkness?"

"You might as well be speaking Russian. I have no idea what you just said."

"Never mind. I'm sure the manipulation is your primary power, but you must have a latent ability, a second gift, which you don't know of yet. It's usually related to the first. Have you ever done anything else strange? Raised a body off a bed? Entered someone's mind?"

"Unequivocally, no."

"Are you sure?"

His head started to pound. This was all getting to be a bit much for him. He'd been willing to play along. Now she spoke of soul mates, demons, powers, and obviously destiny. He made his own life, chose his own path, and there was no way in hell he would buy into the concept that what he was supposed to do had been laid out for him anywhere.

He shook his head. "Enough, Charma."

She cocked her head to the right. "Excuse me?"

Needing to change the subject, he stalked towards her. "Tell me more about this soul mate business. What is it they do together?" He stood over her, his eyes unable to look away from her blue depths.

"What do you think they do?"

Her tone said she was completely uninterested in what he imagined soul mates did together. He could see her pulse flutter under the skin of her throat, hear her breathing increase. Hell, she'd known what they were supposed to be doing together all these years. He reached out and captured her face in his hands. Lips red as cherries called to him. He needed to taste.

"Isn't this convenient? I didn't even have to seek you out?"

Jason shoved all thoughts of making out from his mind, let go of her face, and pushed her behind him. Self-loathing had come to call. He'd be damned if she hurt the blonde-haired angel behind him.

Chapter Six

Sebastian charged down Magazine Street, holding his coffee with chickaree and smoking the appropriate cigarette for a man in the south. His pace was fast, which allowed him to skip exchanging pleasantries with most of the people he passed. Occasionally, someone would catch his eye and he would be forced to nod and smile. Most of the time he couldn't remember the pesky human's name.

He shrugged
. Did humans bother to ask the name of the cockroaches they crushed under their boots? No.
These creatures were no different to him.

Today was not a day for endless wandering while he perfected his plan. No, the current mission was too important to waste time. A minion was getting out of hand and when that happened, penalties had to be paid.

Magazine Street changed as he walked down it. Starting out rather tourist friendly, full of coffee shops and oyster bars, the street soon became the place for local antique dealers and used bookstores. It was the end of the street that had always interested him. That was where Magazine Street got really seedy, and it was in those dens of inequities that Sebastian found his most useful people.

Until recently, he had counted Trent Lupo amongst his most useful and loyal followers. Very rarely did Sebastian even have to possess his mind anymore. Trent just liked following his orders and destroying humanity. Sebastian smiled to himself. If it took all types to make the world go round, then Trent was, hands down, his type.

By day, it appeared he ran a women's lingerie store. Not the kind of place the uptown beauties and mid-city mommies would frequent, or at least be caught frequenting, but rather the store catered to the kind of women found working on Jefferson Highway. The kind who negotiated the price for their services by the hour.

At night, Trent's business became even less respectable. In the back of his store, Trent conducted rituals using his special set of skills to eliminate problems for the people who could afford to pay. Usually this meant ending the life of whoever it was he was asked to condemn. Soul damning voodoo did the trick ninety-nine percent of the time, but Trent had never scoffed at pulling out a gun when the occasion called for it.

So why on earth Trent would pick this week, when Sebastian's damned sister flew into town, to grow a conscience and start refusing orders?

Standing outside of
Ladies Pleasure
, not the cleverest name for the lingerie store, Sebastian took a deep breath and smelled inside to see if Trent was alone or if he had customers. Immediately, Sebastian smelled two women. Bile formed in his throat. Somebody needed to tell both of them that less was more when it came to perfume. Eyes watering, Sebastian blew at the front door as he exhaled smoke from his cigarette.

The door swung open like he'd pushed it. Dropping the cancer stick that would never make him sick, he walked through the entryway. As he did, he used his power to form a protective bubble around the shop that would keep humans out and unable to hear anything from inside. Immediately, the small window air conditioning unit shorted out, releasing smoke into the room. The two women who examined some of the red lingerie in the corner coughed violently and ran for the door. As the second one passed, he caught the distinct whiff of cherry blossoms. It was a good thing the redhead was leaving or he might be forced to indulge in one of his favorite tastes. Normally, he tried to spare Trent the questions local authorities might ask. Not that they couldn't be bought. Everyone could. It was the hassle he objected to.

Trent stood behind the cash register, turning on a large fan to blow away the smoke. Twice Sebastian's human age, the older man had lost all of his hair before he was thirty. Now he was bald, fat, and likely to succumb to a heart attack at any time.

"Master, I've had to replace that window unit five times this year."

Sebastian shrugged. "I thought it the best way to clear the room." Letting himself smile, he leaned against the back wall like a man with no cares in the world. "Or perhaps I should have told them that you bought those panties on eBay and likely didn't wash them. Who knows what charming STDs they picked up by just touching them?"

"Then I should thank you for breaking the AC." Trent cleared his throat. "What can I do for you today?"

Sebastian narrowed his eyes. "What can you 'do' for me today?" He shook his head and let the demon red he hid from the world filter through his blood and show in his eyes. Immediately, he was rewarded with Trent's sucking in of breath. Every once in a while it was good to remind the little people just who and what he was. "If only that was what you said when I contacted you about the potion, but I seem to recall hearing from my messengers that you refused that 'request.'"

Falling to his knees, Trent hung his head low to the floor. "It seems to me, my Master, that they neglected to explain my reason for denying your request."

Stupid mortal.
Sebastian blinked and blew up the cash register. Trent squealed and even though he was still on his knees leapt a few inches in the air, his head hanging lower. "You don't deny me anything, rat. If I want the tongue from your mouth, I'll take it."

Fury filled his body, and he loved the sensation. When was the last time he'd indulged in an actual fit of temper? Scales popped out on his skin and his well-manicured, put-together look ended as his true form, the one he worked so hard to suppress, took shape. Who should he be? Which one would be most effective?

The decision came easily to him. The dragon it would be. Doubling and then tripling in size, Sebastian soon took up most of the room in the small shop. Out of his rear, a giant tail formed and spread knocking over everything that got in its way. Clothes fell everywhere; whips, chains, and other accoutrements of sadomasochism fell from the shelves. Trent's scream went up an octave until he sounded more like a frightened little girl than a man approaching sixty.

Fire streamed from Sebastian's mouth. Singeing the top of the store, he bore down on Trent until his face was merely inches from the little man's. Nothing more than a sneeze would destroy him. If he cared, he would make sure not to breathe in too deeply, but the way he felt at the moment— loaded with power—he wouldn't mind if Trent ceased to exist. As useful as he'd been, he'd simply replace him. No human was so unique you couldn't find two or three capable of doing the same things.

"Master, I would never d-d-deny you anything." Trent had shut his eyes tightly, tears streamed down his face. "I am watching out for your welfare."

"It is not for you to decide what I should and should not do, pond-scum." His voice hit the lowest note of the human hearing capacity. Trent would think he sounded like a base guitar.

Letting his tongue slither out of his mouth, he tasted Trent's tender white flesh. When he'd lived as a dragon, centuries ago before that group of Outsiders had sent him back to his dimension, he'd eaten human flesh regularly to supplement his diet and size. Trent wouldn't have been his choice for a meal, too old to be really tasty. But it had been so long since he'd indulged in this form, he didn't see a reason he couldn't eat him now just for old time's sake.

"If you take that much potion, Master, it will be the maximum amount. We will never be able to increase the dosage. Your human body would expire from more than that. There will come a time when you will grow immune to its strength as you have from all smaller doses and then there will be no stopping the changes in you." Trent took a deep breath. Sweat covered his whole body, and he stunk like old fish. Sebastian wished he could turn off his nasal passages so he didn't have to encounter such a disgusting explosion of nausea-inducing stench.

At the very least, he could change forms to something a little less susceptible to the fragrance. Closing his eyes, he shifted back into his human form. Tugging at his shirt, he was back into immaculate splendor without a second thought. He knelt down and placed a hand on Trent's shoulder. "We have come to the time, minion, that we knew would happen, when there is no more time to lose." Sebastian scratched an itch on his forehead. "I am not a man who explains himself." He smirked as Trent nodded. "Perhaps you have just been reminded that I am not a man at all? If you think I'm a nightmare, then you don't know what danger is. You might beg me to kill you before this is all over."

Sebastian stood to his full height. "Go make me the potion. I'll wait. I want it full strength." Sebastian tapped his foot. "And if you ever question me again, I'll make the end of your life more excruciating than anything you could even fathom in your puny imagination. Am I clear?"

Trent nodded and scampered to the back of the store. Sebastian looked around, up and down the walls. The place was a mess. Really, Trent should do a better job of keeping the place organized. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his cigarette and lit it, enjoying the hot smoke as it passed down his throat.

He needed the damn drink to keep his need for the souls to a minimum. If he had to spend half of his time eating and searching for appropriate feeding grounds, he would not be able to beat his sister to the Outsiders. He'd rather his head explode.

A demon's lot was never easy, especially when family was involved. If humans thought they had problems with their parents, they need only look at his to see what true dysfunction was. His father could leave him for eternity burning in a pit of unending molten lava and forget he was there.
Or worse.
Sebastian shuddered at the worse. He wouldn't think about that now.

A bang in the back room told him Trent was done. The little fat man ran from the back, carefully carrying a large drink in a black glass. Sebastian knew he was the only one who ever drank from that particular cup. Who else would need to drink from a lead lined mug?

Grabbing the vessel from Trent, he sniffed in the ingredients. Wild Alaskan salmon, nutmeg, milk, dog hair, and the most important element: blood from a completely untouched virgin. It would sustain him. He wouldn't need to eat souls for months with this much virgin floating inside of him. Truth was, he loved the taste of the nutmeg. The virgin? It depended. Like steak, sometimes you got a good one, sometimes a bad. Given that three-quarters of the concoction he was drinking was, at the moment, blood, he was lucky that the current deceased virgin tasted like spearmint and bubblegum. If he had to guess, she was no more than fifteen.

He never asked Trent where he got the girls. It wasn't his problem. As he took his last gulp, he finally felt full. Goosebumps covered his skin and he smiled. Months. He would make it months without having to feed. Now of course, if he felt like it that was an entirely different situation.

Letting his eyes glow red, he smiled at Trent who bowed his head again. "I suppose you want to be thanked."

Trent blinked frantically. "No, Master, of course not. No thanks, not ever."