Blood In The Stars (19 page)

His brother shot a brief glare at Damien before turning to Jason. “Better fix him up. If he dies, I won’t get to see his face when the auspicious one chooses me.”

Damien reached for Alastor but Jason gripped his shoulder. With a murderous growl, Damien shrugged off Jason’s hand and hobbled to the house.

The street lamps had come back on and in the distance, Jason heard the hum of approaching vehicles. The chirp of crickets added to the chorus and soft flickers showed fireflies had reclaimed their nightly vigil. As if everything were back to normal.

“Aren’t you going to thank me?” Alastor asked, hands shoved in the pockets of his khaki slacks. Now wearing a sea green polo that brought out the blue in his eyes, Alastor didn’t look as if he needed appreciation from his brother. Instead, he eyed Jason closely, perhaps measuring his resolve, or weighing his soul.

Then Alastor smirked. “Now’s your chance, little brother. I am unarmed and you can claim your prize. Kill me and you will have the auspicious one. I know you want to.”

Jason stared at his hand, suddenly realizing he had raised his sword at Alastor as he neared
. What am I doing?
He didn’t want to kill his brother. Never had. Was it a reflexive move? Had Alastor’s threatening presence left him defensive? Or had his powers really taken over, eager to reach their full potential?

Killing Alastor might solve all his problems. He would rise as heir to his House, he could marry Daria, and life would be perfect, right? Jason almost laughed at the thought.

He could no more stop loving Daria, than stop breathing. Without her, he preferred death.

Yet Jason could not kill his brother. He would never be able to live with the guilt of destroying his family for the one he loved. And he had no doubt Daria would not want him to.

Jason dropped his arm. He sighed. “Thank you.”

Alastor stared at him, lips curling back in a snarl. “You disgust me,” he hissed.

Silently they returned to the house, where Damien still waited outside the gate. From the way Daria backed up as they neared, Jason wasn’t sure Miller was going to let them in at all.

“My guts are about to fall out,” Damien complained, holding his stomach.

But Daria had turned toward the lake. “Let them in,” she cried, her breath quickening. “Something’s out there.”

Chapter 17

As soon as the gate closed behind the men, Daria ran toward the house. Something waited out there. And she wouldn’t feel safe until she was back in the wood and stone confines of Miller’s mansion.

Her feet crunched on the gravel drive. In the horizon, small green speckles of light glowed. The lyrical tinkling of rain drowned out their footfalls. She glanced up at the sky, wondering if perhaps the weather had changed to a Chicago storm. The sound became louder and nearer, but the skies remained clear. She paused, squinting at the lake, trying to gauge why the bright green dots seemed to become even more vivid and grow closer.

“The house,” Miller urged with a nudge on her arm, but she remained mesmerized by the lights. They were no longer dots now, but had elongated, the looming radiance of an alien form.

A deafening
thwack
came from above and Daria recoiled, jumping back in alarm. She raised her eyes to the sky and saw a salamander-like man flail mid-air. Its translucent green skin glowed in the dark and its bulging black eyes rolled back in its head. Squealing and shrieking, its amphibious toes desperately clung and clawed the air, before it stopped and its lifeless body fell. The air around the house flickered for an instant as Daria stared at her surroundings with new, horrified eyes.

Another creature landed yards above the house, only to be zapped by invisible electricity before hitting the ground. Light flashed as the energy killed one creature after another. The monsters stayed back, surrounding the perimeter of the property.

This had to be the protective barrier Jason spoke of. The creature hadn’t clung to air, but tried to grab onto the dome surrounding the house. From what she could tell, the protection extended the circumference of the home and sealed the entire area above. Anything that touched it was electrocuted. That would explain why Jason needed Miller to open the gate. But why could she touch it and stay unharmed?

A strong hand clasped her upper arm and Miller tugged her toward the house. She staggered once but followed obediently, unwilling to remain outside where dozens, maybe hundreds of pairs of gleaming black eyes watched her with blank stares. Yet she felt their intention, the urge to slake their thirst with her life. She shuddered from the thought.

They entered a sitting room and she fell onto the sofa. Miller drew the curtains shut to block out the view.

She huddled into a ball, hugging a pillow to her chest. She had never lived through a war, witnessed a gang battle, or even a fight. But she had seen everything tonight.

Jason performed that magic trick on Damien’s wounds. Not a minute later, Damien jumped up from his seat.

“I’m starving,” he announced, his voice as strong and loud as ever. “I need some food.”

Miller nodded toward the kitchen and Damien left to scavenge. Their host sat adjacent to her, arms folded across his chest, brooding. With his lanky frame stretched out, he appeared more likeable and not the snobby trust-fund baby she always thought he was. Or maybe her feelings for him had changed these last few days.

His narrowed eyes darted between Alastor and Jason. Alastor stood at the doorway and Jason had peeled back part of the curtain to watch their enemies. Despite the witch’s languid posture, Daria knew Miller sat on edge. She had seen it many times, often right before a big client meeting.

Damien came back with beers and chips and placed everything on the coffee table. A tense silence followed and as usual, Damien broke it.

“I sent some mail to my father. Asked him to bring reinforcements.”

Alastor objected. “That’s against the rules.”

Damien smirked. “But you can go kill them all with your hands tied behind your back? Be my guest.” Then with a scowl, he added, “Daria would sooner choose me than you.”

Alastor laughed, the sound suddenly devoid of its familiar derision and ridicule. Instead, it rang out in a lyrical trill, throaty and sincere. “I never expected her to choose me.”

Everyone turned to look at him curiously. Daria was sure they all had the same thought running through their minds. If Alastor didn’t think she’d marry him, why was he here?

Yet as soon as she asked herself the question, she knew the answer. Alastor came to needle Jason. Again, that eerie suspicion clawed her gut.

Alastor wants Jason to kill him.

“No help from the House unless she has chosen you,” Alastor goaded Damien.

“What are they?” she interjected before the two could argue.

“Water sprites,” Miller said. “This is part of the coalition. I expect the next troop isn’t here yet.”

Her stomach sank abysmally. They were trapped inside. Surrounded.

She had to get through this for her powers to develop. Panic tore through her. What if she had no powers, like Jason’s mother? Then where would she be?

Daria clutched her chest as rapid, shallow breaths overtook her.
Pull it together.

Her eyes settled on Jason and some of the tension lifted from her shoulders. With him by her side, she could survive anything. As though feeling her eyes on him, Jason turned. They said nothing, their desire searing a path across the room and their agony of separation plain for all to see.

He strode to her, his face a mix of torment and love. They could have been alone, for their eyes held only each other. When his fingers brushed across the back of the sofa, she felt it as though he caressed her skin. Her cheeks heated, though he didn’t lay a hand on her. She tilted her head back as he rounded the couch to sit down beside her.

Daria sucked in her breath as the urge to touch him consumed her. She rested her face on the pillow and gazed at him sideways. This was all they could have for now. But as soon as they were alone . . . as soon as they had some privacy . . . she wanted Jason for herself.

Panicked screams rose from the night. The hair shot up on her arms as she jumped from her seat. Miller and Jason ran out the double glass doors leading to the backyard with Daria fast on their heels.

They sprinted across the travertine walkway and onto the dewy grass. More shrieks ripped through her nerves, the cries of anguish turning her legs to jelly. Daria skidded to a stop.

A lone man slashed through the water sprites. Limbs flew and blood flowed. His short blond hair, white shirt, and beige trousers contrasted sharply against the dark night. His long sword cut through the enemies in a lethal dance of death and destruction. A cold, dispassionate stare accompanied an emotionless face.

He was beautiful. Frighteningly so. She recalled her first impression of Jason in the alleyway. Like that night, she knew if this man came near, if he got his hands on her, she would never escape.

He caught her eye and her breath seized.

Gorgeous white wings unfolded from his back and he flew up, striking a water sprite that had reached the top of the protective dome without getting electrified. Had the shield weakened?

When the air shimmered around the man, her jaw dropped. Long, black shackles extended from his wristbands and heavy links pooled to disappear into the earth. The chains followed his every move. He was no less agile for the restraints and the water sprites didn’t seem to try using the confinements to their advantage.

Suddenly, the fight ended. The water sprites lay dead, disappearing as all the supernatural creatures did at their death.

He landed and Daria noticed another stranger stood waiting patiently by the garden gate. As he strode toward this second individual, she watched the chains trail his every movement. They didn’t make any sounds, or perhaps her ears had lost their hearing. Yet in her mind, she heard every clank of the metal on the travertine, every chink as one chain banged into another.

A chained angel.

When the two men stood side by side, they made an interesting pair. At first glance, they appeared very similar. If they weren’t twins, they were surely brothers. Both had gleaming golden hair, sky blue eyes, flawless skin, and perfect bodies. The second man was beefier, with biceps bulging at the sleeves that seemed ready to burst out. Outward maturity touched an otherwise youthful appearance. And if Daria didn’t know better, she would say these two men were in their thirties.

“You going to let us inside?” the larger man asked.

Daria narrowed her eyes. This one didn’t have the black wristbands or the chains.

“You’ll love my dad.” Alastor spoke in a low voice, drawing her from her contemplation.

She turned to Alastor with raised brows. What an incongruous comment. Unless he meant . . .

“In fact, you probably already know his name.”

“I do?” she asked.

“Luke,” Jason growled. “My father’s name is Luke.”

“Come now, my little brother, there’s no need to deceive her.”

The saccharine, condescending tone irritated Daria to the core. But it wasn’t her place to tell Alastor off.

“You probably know my father by another name,” Alastor continued. “The humans called him Lucifer.”

Twice now, Jason had missed seeing the code to open the front gate, but he knew there had to be another way to leave. As long as the protective shield was activated, enemies couldn’t come in, but they also could not get out. In case Miller decided not to help them, he still needed the ability to leave.

He studied Miller’s every movement, waiting for the witch to let their latest guests inside. From what he could gather, the rows of elms along the boundary of the property bordering the beach made up the edge of the shield on this end. The low garden gate could not possibly be an exit. That meant another section allowed access. Until he knew where the back door was, they remained trapped.

“Walk around to the front. Or fly. I don’t care,” Miller said.

Wily wizard
. Jason narrowed his eyes. Obviously, Miller didn’t plan on letting anyone see. The time before Daria’s maturation neared and their time to escape grew short. Especially with the latest visitors.

Miller motioned for their newly arrived guests to go to the front. They followed him back to the house but as everyone entered, Jason grabbed Daria’s arm and pulled her through a side door that led to the kitchen, away from prying eyes and ears.

His father’s showy display would force him to answer questions he had avoided. Now came the moment of truth. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to tell Daria which House he was from; he just hadn’t known how to begin. Even now he wasn’t sure what to say. What if she rejected him?

He set his hands on her shoulders and took a deep breath. “Daria, I—”

She wrapped her arms around his neck, stood on her toes, and pulled him down for a kiss. As her soft lips opened against his, encouraging entry, his tongue sought hers. They tasted each other with gentle flicks. She pressed her body against his and his hands traveled down to her hips.

Daria relaxed in his arms, her surrender both tender and sweet. It was a meeting of souls, a release of control, and the attainment of total trust. And unlike any other kiss they had shared.

When they stopped to catch their breath, she held his face in both her hands. A smile lingered on her lips. “I love you. No matter what your form is or what you are.”

His heart wrenched and twisted with poignant elation. She didn’t care about his House. Didn’t care that his father was one written about in infamy. Didn’t care that he descended from a man banished from Heaven.

He could barely contain his happiness; it burst from his chest. Yet he didn’t need to share it with others. He was content to hold the knowledge, savoring it between them. He couldn’t tell anyone even if he wanted to. It might sound her death knell.

She reached for his hands and lifted both to her heart. Eyes bright and teary, she whispered, “Do they hurt?”

Her words punched him in the stomach. She had seen them—the manacles of his family’s punishment for waging war in Heaven. Most of the time, he didn’t even notice their presence. The only time he felt them was when he traveled to places he should not. The trip to Hell to verify Alice’s body had nearly bled him to death. Long ago, he had tried to fly to Heaven and the weight on his wrists had threatened to pull his arms from their sockets. And most recently, the wristbands had begun to cut into his skin when he saved Daria from Damien.

The chains were a reminder to all in the realm, that they were angels no longer. Their holy order had been cast down and never again would they ascend to Heaven. Instead, they’d been banished to the mortal realm with the people his father despised. They kept their powers and retained their wings. However, those of his House forever had their shoulders marked with a tattoo of wings while in their human form. True angels walked amongst humans freely.

Daria brushed her fingers along his wristbands, as though afraid to touch them.

He shook his head, the soreness expanding in his chest from her concern almost taking away his ability to speak. “I-I don’t even notice most of the time.”

“And other times?” she asked, her voice cracking.

“The entire family and all those who followed my father bear this punishment.” Jason swallowed. “It marks us as the House of Fallen Angels.”

He paused, knowing the admission made them outcasts even to the realm they ruled. They were neither from Heaven nor Hell.

“Is it really okay?” he breathed.

“I don’t care what House you’re from. I love
you
. Not your family, not your power. Just you. I wanted to tell you earlier,” she admitted shyly, tilting her head back to gaze at him. “I guess we both have problems expressing our feelings.”

“Then we should practice more,” he breathed, kissing her.

A door banged and he knew their time alone had ended. He groaned and Daria suppressed a giggle. Did he have to take her to a deserted island so they could enjoy each other in peace?

Reluctantly, he pulled away, and planted a quick kiss to her forehead before taking her hand in his and leading her to the front door. They had barely taken two steps when the oven pinged. Daria looked behind her curiously.