The Devil You Know (42 page)

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Authors: Marie Castle

BOOK: The Devil You Know
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The boy stayed in the cold as long as he could, watching the stars, wondering which of them was new. For surely if any deserved to grace the celestial bodies, it was Clarette Pur Ame, the woman with the purest heart he would ever know.

Finally, the boy began his return to their stony camp, detouring to throw the black box into a deep ravine, hoping it would shatter like mirrored-glass but knowing better. Something so powerful was not so easily destroyed. It could merely be hidden for a time. He stood at the rock’s edge and looked down into the dark. His Mistress’s voice, his Master’s, and all the other mad portents of stolen magic he had garnered from the dead vampire were all that kept him from tossing himself after the box.

They whispered that he did not deserve such an easy escape, and for the first but certainly not the last time, he listened.

If he could not end it…end himself…no one else would. That possibility had disappeared the moment Lucine had stopped her mother’s blade. As long as he was of use to the guardian’s golden-haired child, Lucine would never let any kill him. Though his bonds might be velvet, as surely as he had been chained to his Master’s walls, he was chained to the young half-demon, Mistress LaFortuna, his soon-to-be wife.

With weary steps, he returned to his cave and his bed.

From the shadowed mouth of a nearby cave, the old druid, sitting on the stone floor, watched him go. Sati pulled her furs tighter about her and loosed another wet racking cough, doing her best to muffle the sound before it awoke the others. Like her own, she knew the hour and day of the boy’s death. The hour and day of many deaths, including that of the Prime she had served faithfully for many years. But unlike the boy, she would not see the sunrise. And for one of the few times in her life, the old woman would tell nothing of what she had seen. Especially not that it would be the boy, turned man, turned vampire, that would be the one to slay her Prime and her eldest daughter, all at his Mistress’s command. No, she would say nothing of it. And it wasn’t for lack of opportunity.

Before the sun’s first light peeked over the mountain, the old woman would breathe her last, taking her secrets with her to the grave…as the Fates had decreed it. Thus the goddesses were appeased. The old woman didn’t know what The Three had set into motion, but she knew well enough not to throw it off track.

* * *

It truly was paradise, and I didn’t mean the location, though that was nice, too. Finally being alone with Jacq was heaven. My love let me explore her mountain home, showing me the many levels cut into the extinct volcano’s heart, satisfying my relentless curiosity with happy patience. Eventually, the exploration led up curving stone stairs to her bedroom.

In many ways it was a bedroom like any other. There was a large bed, dressers, a tall mirror against one wall, a small writing desk with a chair. The differences were subtle. The walls were stone and slightly rounded. The thick rugs on the stone floor were fur. The charcoal-colored furniture was of crystal, darker in color but similar in appearance to the glowing crystals lining the walls of the pool room we had landed in upon entering this world. There were no signs of electricity. Instead, the room was lit softly by more glowing crystals. Little ledges holding unlit candles had been carved into the walls.

Here, the stone-hewn windows were covered by soft gauzy curtains and the door led to a stone balcony. From the balcony, the view of the jungle surrounding the black mountain was spectacular. Occasionally, boulder-like towers illuminated the land. Jacq said the towers were made out of the same glowing crystals embedded in the walls. They had been there as long as her ancestors could remember and were believed to be naturally occurring. A few days ago, I would have said that was impossible. But then again, I was standing next to a woman who could jump between worlds.

Impossible was not as far-fetched as it had once been.

It was as we stood before the balcony’s low stone wall and watched one moon set and another rise that I understood why the magic of this land felt so familiar. All around me, foreign birds sang and night creatures called to each other. In the distance, a large cat screamed. The mountain practically trembled with life. And under it all was that
hum
of magic. It pulsed, beating like a heart.

Jacq’s heart.

I didn’t know whether she gave life to this place or if it gave life to her. But somehow they were interconnected. And I loved her all the more for showing me something so extraordinary.

Like Jacq’s magic, the land’s power moved against my skin, but more softly, more sensually. With each passing second, it grew stronger, its pulse more forceful, its need more urgent. By my side, Jacq’s power grew with it, overshadowing everything else, magic and desire thrumming in her veins like the heavy seductive beat of a rock ballad.

But she made no demands, no moves to push us toward the bedroom and the one place we would find relief. For days, my body and hers had been in an almost constant state of arousal. At this point, I was assuming my nipples would be permanently stiff and my panties eternally wet. We were finally alone and she still stood there looking at the moon?

Through my connection to Jacq, the land spoke to me, telling me what I needed to do. I opened myself, letting the magic of this world move through me until it pumped in my blood. I welcomed her home as my own and felt it lend me strength, peace…and insight into the woman who had become the most important part of me. When I could take no more, I turned to Jacq, knowing my eyes were glowing with light blue fire.

I was ready. And whether she knew it or not, so was she. She was simply waiting on that one small push to move her over the cliff. So with four little huskily spoken words, I gave it that push, shoving us past the edge and into the future.

“Make love to me?” I held out my hand.

Jacq looked at my hand, understanding the significance of the offer. Then she slowly smiled, her silver eyes glowing almost white with their own fire.

She took my hand and raised it to her lips, brushing a soft, knee-melting kiss against my knuckles, whispering against my skin, “From now until my last breath.”

Jacq led me into her room and to the bed where she undressed me meticulously, touching every inch of revealed skin with hot hands and lips. With each piece of clothing that fell, her magic grew, her heat against my body fierce as it seeped into my skin. The few crystals lighting the walls dimmed as her silver glow grew, providing all the light we needed. And with each heartbeat, that pulse throbbed more desperately between us.

When I was completely nude, I reached for her, removing Jacq’s black shirt and pants, moving my hands over hard muscles and smooth curves, marveling at her beauty. Silvery-white magic followed every swipe of my hands, leaving visible trails, making me want to touch her…mark her…
everywhere
. So I did, touching, kissing, making her groan loudly as I sucked in a hard nipple. At one point, I ran my hands down her back and swore I felt her tattoo flame against my palm, burning my skin with pleasure.

When Jacq moved us to sheets the color of dark ash and lay down between my legs, I joined our hands and opened myself fully, taking in the pulsing hot magic, letting it invade me body and soul.

This second sharing of magic was not as tentative as our first, and the hot pain of it pushing into me, making me ready for what was to come, was brief. But still, my love moved slowly, both of us savoring the moment as we finally joined as one.

Her power grew with every thrust, feeding my own hungry need. I took in each smooth pulse greedily, letting her blazing magic sink into the deepest part of me, feeling her pleasurable relief through our bond as each pulse moved out of her. When her roaring power called mine forth, causing my magic to wrap around our limbs like fiery ropes, I tried to twist away, frightened. But Jacq held me down, silencing my protests with a long demanding kiss. When she pulled away, I looked at her with wide eyes.

The kiss had been a scorcher—in more ways than one. Flames circled the bed, rising tall. The candles resting around the room had lit themselves and flickered in the breeze drifting through the warded window. Jacq and I were both burning so hotly the room would have been little more than cinders if it were not stone. I had never felt desire like this, never felt pleasure so great I lost complete control. But her every touch, every kiss, made my magic wilder, more uncontrollable.

For the first time in days, my heart and body were at odds. Lust wanted to tackle her to the ground and have its way with her. Love also wanted to tackle her but only so we could perform a naked version of stop, drop, and roll. Jacq’s next words halted my indecision.

“I welcome your fire, Cate. Don’t be afraid to let it free. You will not harm me.” Resting on her elbows above me, she lowered her head slowly, allowing me to make the choice.

When I saw my flames wrap lovingly around her neck, pulling her head closer, I knew what my magic had already known. It was safe, she was safe, for me to be who I had always been meant to be. Loving was never safe. It was always a risk. But with Jacq, it was the sort of risk I would never
ever
regret.

As our lips met again, we began to move in earnest. I moaned into her mouth as hot magic pounded into my body, filling my soul to capacity and beyond. I swore I felt fire move from her mouth to mine, moving down my throat in electrical jolts to tweak my nipples from the inside out. We moved faster, harder, and I sank my nails into her back, the pleasure of her body on mine and her magic filling me so close to pain I couldn’t distinguish the two. Within me, something moved, expanding as her magic forced my heart and soul to stretch, becoming something new and very old at the same time. I broke our mouths apart, throwing my head back in pleasurable agony. Not realizing I had closed my eyes, I opened them to see Jacq staring back at me, her body glowing pure white, the look of love in her eyes glorious.

Wave after wave of magic hit me, its presence now visible white waves flowing out of her and into me. They came faster, syncing with our rhythm. I was almost to the point of breaking when something savagely powerful rose up in me and I flipped her. Once, twice, I ground Jacq’s body beneath me, fusing our mouths together in another soul-stealing kiss, fire rushing from her mouth to mine. As she cried out, a lightning bolt of golden-white power arced between us, pushing me back until I rose above her. I threw my arms wide, taking the magic from her. Head flung back, my eyes fixed on the ceiling as everything she was and ever would be poured into me.

Stars exploded. My soul shattered, re-forming as I floated down on gossamer wings of power.

When I came to, I lay behind Jacq, our bodies warm under black covers. The fire circling the bed had burned out, leaving the room smelling of smoke and sex. I had no memory of changing our positions, though hours must have passed because the candles were small puddles of burning wax. My nose rested in the crook of Jacq’s neck, letting me see past her shoulder with one eye. The flickering candles afforded enough light to see the far wall’s tall mirror. Startled, I lifted my head and looked at our reflections, my gaze meeting Jacq’s in the mirror. Her eyes still glowed a nearly-golden white. But it wasn’t her eyes, her face, or her beautiful body that caught my attention.

There, where my light blue eyes had once been, were orbs of blackest night. And the black covers wrapping around myself and Jacq, protecting us from the cool breeze blowing through the warded windows? They were no cover but a massive collection of small feathers. Black feathers. Jutting from my back was the largest set of wings I had ever seen.

Only one demon house has black wings.

My own words echoed in my head, damning me. I was of the same ilk that had recently tried to kill me, of the ones that would no doubt try again.
A house that does not evolve dies,
my demon-half whispered in my ear, taunting me with my own words as she laughed. In my mind, I saw her, black eyes shining in the dark, black wings spread wide, her cage now little more than symbolic.

In the span of a heartbeat, I had become my own grandmother’s sworn enemy.

I felt Jacq’s tattoo shift against my chest, its feathers rubbing against my skin soothingly. In the mirror, Jacq watched me.

“What am I to do?” I asked.

“Nothing,” she said. “You are as you should be. It is the natural order of things. You have been reborn.”

I’d heard eventually blood always runs true. If that was the case, exactly what sort of blood was running through my veins? More importantly, what did my love know that she wasn’t saying? From the look in her eyes, I would say she knew a great deal…and that I wouldn’t want to hear it.

Not now. Not today. Maybe never.

Continue Reading for a Preview of the next in the Darkmirror Series:
Demons of a Feather

Preview of
Demons of a Feather

Below me, the land was black with only a faint orange-pink lining the horizon. It was minutes to sunrise—my favorite time of day. A cool wind blew up the dark cliffside, pushing my loose raven hair behind me and kissing my cheeks before tugging at the black wings spread wide behind me. Though light, the wings were large and unwieldy. With every new gust, I found myself leaning farther and farther forward for balance, looking down the mountainside. The very large, very high…very sheer…mountainside.

My mind, swirling with worries and fears, had resisted sleep long after Jacq had nodded off. I had finally slept to awaken soon after with a plan. It had come to me in a dream. I couldn’t be sure but thought it was Jacq’s world, her paradise, and the heartbeat of power thrumming through it that had spoken to me. I had dressed quickly, come outside, and climbed to the top of the wall encasing the small balcony. And here I had stood for the last hour, looking into the darkness, staring at the crystal towers dotting the jungle, trying to decide if I was doing the right thing.

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