Dark Hope (The Devil's Assistant) (20 page)

“Protected by—or property of, I don’t see the difference,” I countered. “And if I’m so damn special and so damn protected then why am I here with you?”

I studied the mark. It had caused me nothing but pain—protected by the Demon King—what a joke. I remember the first day I saw the mark five years ago. The day everything changed.

Today was going to be another day like that one. Tears stung my eyes. Mace wasn’t going to let me go. The Boss wouldn’t save me once Junior died. I was screwed.

“Special is just another word for damned.” I blinked back the tears. I wouldn’t let Mace see me cry.

“You have no idea how wrong you are.” His voice was different. Distant—frustrated—hostile. He had some serious daddy issues. And I was somehow in the middle of his twisted game. “When I saw your mark, I did some research. Do you want to know what I found?”

“No, but you want to tell me, so go ahead.”

I don’t know what he expected me to say, but I tensed when he slid my arm back into his lap, running his finger along my wrist.

“Your mother, Melinda, made a deal with my father.”

I looked away. I didn’t want to hear his version of those events.

His hand cupped my face, forcing me to look at him. “Years later she died giving birth to you.”

“I know the story.” The Boss had explained it to me. When he told me I belonged to him.

Mace smiled, clutching my chin. “You think you know the story, but you don’t.” His grip tightened. “Now be quiet and pay attention while I finish.”

I resisted when he drew me in. Ignoring my pathetic attempts to avoid him, he gave me a quick chaste, kiss on the lips. Pagans were so damn confusing. I hated him, and I was sure the feeling was mutual, but he had no issues giving me a playful peck.

“Because of a loophole,” he continued. “She was allowed to go to Paradise instead of Hell.”

I didn’t have all the specifics, but he wasn’t telling me anything I hadn’t already heard. I stayed quiet to avoid another kiss.

“Did you know he had the chance to close the loophole a few years ago?” Mace paused as if he expected an answer.

“How would I know that?” I asked quickly before he decided to encourage my participation.

He shrugged, picking up a strand of my hair. “It has been my experience that you know a lot of things you shouldn’t.”

He was right. I was the Devil’s assistant, obviously I’d know some things, but why he thought I’d know the inner workings of Paradise and Hell politics was beyond me.

Mace frowned. “Daddy didn’t take the deal. Do you know why?”

“No clue.”

He twined the loose strand he’d been playing with behind my ear. “Because if he had, the rule would have reversed completely.”

I waited for him to explain, but when he didn’t I asked, “That’s important because?”

He rubbed my wrist along the edge of the bracelet. “He didn’t change the law so your mother could stay in Paradise with her family.”

“Why would The Boss give a rat’s ass about one random soul?”

Mace’s grip hardened. The finger rubbing along the line of the bracelet slid over to the other side, shocking me. “Why do you think?”

I attempted to wrench my arm away. His grip tightened. An unnerving thought occurred. “Because of me?”
Please don’t say it’s because of me
.

Mace’s face steeled. “No, not because of you.”

“Then why?” I asked, jerking my arm from his grasp.

“It was because of his love for your mother.”

My mouth hung open.
Love
? I shook my head.
He loved her
? The Devil loved my mother?
No, no, no
. Panic suddenly hit me. “Are you saying he’s my—”

Mace scowled. “I never said
she
loved him. You’re not one of us.”

“Thank God, I’m not one of you psycho crazies,” I shouted.

He hated me—for something I couldn’t control. He hated me because his father loved my mother. Fuck.

“He protects you because of
his
feelings for
her
.”

“You’re wrong. He doesn’t protect me.”

Mace’s hatred was clouding his perception of how things really were. I’d never seen The Boss show the least bit of compassion for anyone, much less me. I couldn’t believe he loved my mother, or that she was the reason he did anything. But Mace certainly did, and that was a problem.

“
She
is his weakness,” he added. He caressed my face, his gaze fixed on me. “You’ve benefitted from that—not anymore.”

I laughed. “Benefitted, right. What world are you living in?”

His eyebrows rose when I denied his claim.

“I said I was going to take everything from you, Claire. That includes my father’s protection.” Mace smiled as he caressed the side of my cheek. “To do that, you’ll need to bind yourself to me.”

“What? Are you insane? I already belong to him. Property of or protected by—you can’t change that fact.”

Mace chuckled, shaking his head as if I were a simpleton that understood nothing. I pulled back when he moved in to kiss me. He fisted his hand in my hair, holding me still. “That’s where you’re wrong. He marked you because he doesn’t own you.”

“Hu—”

Mace tugged me forward crushing our lips together. His tongue possessively slipped into my mouth to take what he wanted. His kiss was long and deep and demanding. I didn’t want to be kissed. Not by him and not like this, but the bastard knew how to kiss. I was panting for breath when he released me.

“You’re lying,” I accused between jagged breaths. “The Boss owns me.”

Mace smiled and cocked one of his perfect eyebrows. “Did you like the kiss?”

Speechless, I gaped at him. His smug smile pissed me off. “No, I didn’t like the kiss, you bastard.”

“You’re lying.”

Heat rose to my cheeks. I shook my head. “I don’t want you.”

He shrugged. “What you want is irrelevant.”

“I know,” I said. “It’s been irrelevant for the last five years—because he owns me.”

Nothing I’d ever wanted mattered. I’d gone from one totally screwed up foster family to the next, until I turned sixteen—the age of maturity in Hell. Thanks to my mom, The Boss put his claim on me and that was it. What I wanted would never matter again. Mace couldn’t change that.

He smiled. “You know nothing. He can’t take an innocent’s soul, Claire. You have to willingly give yourself to him.” He stroked my face again. “I’m sure that’s something you’d never do.”

Impossible
. The Boss owned me. He had to. Why else would he have taken me?

What if Mace is right?
the voice whispered.

“He really doesn’t own me?” I asked, trying to confirm.

Mace’s grin didn’t waiver. It’s not true. Why wouldn’t Omar have told me? We were friends, sort of. I sagged back against the wall. Was nothing real?

Unless he couldn’t tell you
.

I remembered how Omar acted at the office. He’d stopped in the middle of saying something, as if there were things about me that couldn’t be said.

I was pulled back to the present when the silver tray brushed my hand and sent a tiny shock up my arm. The tray was filled with five petit fours, decadent looking mini cake squares. It was a pastel smorgasbord of pink, purple, green, yellow, and blue. Their sugary smell filled my nostrils.

He clutched my face and peered into my eyes. “You’ll pledge yourself to me.”

He tightened his grip, stopping me before I could lean away.

“If you refuse,” he said, pecking me on the lips. “I’ll have my way with you, then throw you back in the basement with the demons. I don’t think Lily will save you this time.”

I was sure Lily wouldn’t help me again. I jerked my head away. “I don’t believe you. I belong to your father.”

Mace cupped my chin, drawing my face back to his. “How many people do you think carry his mark?”

“Hundreds?”

“I only know of one.”

“You’re lying.” I couldn’t be the only one he’d marked.

Mace kissed me again. Another long demanding kiss.

I pulled away. “You hate me for something I have no control over.”

“I hate my father for that. I hate you because you told Cinnamon about Aunt Mab. She will be harder to control now, and Aunt Mab will not be happy when she finds out.” He twisted a strand of my hair around his finger.

“Please don’t touch me—not like that. I don’t want that.”

He chuckled. “You’d enjoy it.”

“I wouldn’t.”

“I’ve never had any complaints,” he scoffed, offended.

“Please. Not that.”
Anything but that
.

“You have two options, Claire,” he said, caressing my hair. “I recommend you pledge yourself to me—willingly.”

There weren’t two options—there were never two options. He does whatever he wants to me then throws me to the demons, or I willingly pledge myself to him, binding me to him forever, then he does whatever he wants to me. Neither
option
was desirable and seeing as there was no option to leave and return to The Boss, there was only one I could choose.

I took a deep breath. “I agree to pledge myself to you.”

“I want it sealed with a kiss.”

“No.”

He smiled and tucked my hair behind my ear. “Pretty soon you won’t be able to say no.”

“What!” That couldn’t be how it worked—could it? “You promised.”

“I never promised not to kiss you, Claire. I quite enjoy it. Now, let’s start with this.” He picked up the small pink square from the tray. “Once you eat this, you’ll belong to me—forever.”

I eyed the cake suspiciously.

“A kiss would be more fun, Claire, but the cake seals the bond. By accepting what I offer, you will be bound to me forever. I’ll own you, like my father never has.”

The smell of the pink square was cloying. “What is it?”

He held the cake to my lips. “Pagan cake.”

“From Purgatory?” I rasped, my mouth dry.

His wide grin was unnerving. I hesitated a moment, swallowing hard, before I opened my mouth. He placed the moist square on my tongue. It was dense like pound cake, and the icing tasted a bit like almonds and licorice. Not really a good combination.

As the cake slid down my throat, a warm sensation spread through my body. I didn’t like the fuzziness the cake created in my head.

The initial wave of warmth was immediately followed by a swell of cold. Goosebumps rose all over my skin. My head tingled.

The initial wave of warmth was immediately followed by a swell of cold. Goosebumps rose all over my skin. My head tingled. My sight went in and out of focus. My thoughts started running together. I couldn’t think straight.

Mace held up another piece of cake. It smelled sickeningly sweet so close to my nose. I didn’t want it. I shook my head and pushed at his hand, not even wincing at the shock. Cradling my jaw, he tugged down, and forced my mouth open.

“Only the first must be willing,” he said.

Each piece of cake was the same—first a wave of warmth, then cold.

Once I’d eaten the last piece, he put the empty tray off to the side. Snaking his hand around my neck, he pulled me in close. I studied his lips, fascinated by what they could do. I thought he was going to kiss me, but he didn’t. For some reason, that disappointed me.

“What aren’t you telling me?” he asked.

I didn’t understand what he meant. I was too busy thinking about—longing for—his almost kiss. The cake made me foggy, disoriented, and giddy. I laughed. “What?” I asked, my gaze fixated on the pout of his beautiful lips.

“What aren’t you telling me?” he shouted.

I touched his pillow soft lips. “Ouch.” I giggled. What did he want to know? I couldn’t remember.

He asked me again, this time keeping my attention on his eyes with his will. I was compelled to tell him the truth—my throat closed up immediately.

Was I drugged? Or was this longing a result of my pledge to him? Not that it mattered. Mab’s magic was stronger. I giggled again. He’d never get what he wanted. I still couldn’t speak about the future.

I touched his face. The bracelet shocked me; I didn’t care. The pain was dulled. I could ignore it, but I couldn’t ignore him. I wanted him. Fisting my hands in his hair, I yanked him forward for a kiss. If he wouldn’t give it to me, I would take it. A long passionate, breathless kiss. He was mine now. His lips were so soft and his breath was so warm and inviting. I wanted him—all of him.

I pushed him back to the floor, rolling him over and straddling him.

No
! I heard a faint scream in my head. I ignored it.

A new wave of warmth washed over me. His hand tightened in my hair, wrenching my head back. “What aren’t you telling me?”

I leaned in. My body was responding to his touch. “I want you inside me. Now. Then I want to curl up in your arms and sleep.” I just wanted him to hold me—
Stop it! No, you don’t
.

Was that the voice? I snorted. It was trying to remind me. I was in love with Jack.

I smiled at Mace. I couldn’t stop myself. “You’re beautiful. Make love to me.”

I touched his face—those beautiful lips.

Fight it
, the voice demanded.

“I don’t want to fight.”

The voice was angry with me—I giggled. The voice—who did she think she was? This was my life. My sucky crap-ass life. “I want to go home now.”

“You are home,” Mace said.

“Could he read my mind?”

“No, you’re thinking out loud.”

“Of course I am.” My head was swimming. I couldn’t concentrate. I couldn’t stop thinking about Mace. I couldn’t stop wanting him to touch me. This wasn’t what I wanted, but at the same time, it was what I wanted.

“Tell me, Claire. What are you hiding?”

“I love you,” I said with the conviction of a high school crush.

His lips turned down. “Tell me your secrets, and I’ll let you have me.”