Tell (12 page)

“I have to go.” He nodded toward the flat expanse of desert beyond town. “If I let them have me, you don't have to hurt yourself.”

Her hands were raw and chafed. She glanced at them, then met his gaze again. “Let who have you?”

“The demons waiting out there.” So much darkness lay hidden among the colors in the desert. “I can fix all of this if I go. They'll take me and everyone will be all right. This thing inside me can't hurt anyone anymore. It's only death.”

Sylvie's mouth worked, but no words came out. She grabbed his shirtfront and pulled his face close to hers. “Listen to me. Whatever you think is out there telling you this doesn't have any power over you. You belong to me—with me—heart and soul, Tell Heckmaster. You let go of any crazy ideas that say you're giving up. I love you, and anything that says differently is a liar. Anything bold enough to come out and say otherwise to my face will die at my hand too.” She pressed her lips to his.

Something inside him snapped and he circled her waist with his arms as he kissed her in return. Sylvie, soft and sweet, but frighteningly dangerous, melted in his embrace.

Kissing her was like a breath of cool oxygen after standing in an inferno. The darkness nibbling the edges of his soul fell away, deflated like a squashed dog tick. With the taste of Sylvie on his lips, he stopped being a miserable worm and turned into Tell again.

“I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Whatever that was, it wasn't me. I'd never leave you, not like that.” He crushed her against him. The jasmine scent of her hair curled into his nose and quickened his heartbeat. “Nebo's right. The demons want me bad.”

She tilted her head back to look up at him. “What is going on?”

“I was stupid and I shouldn't have left you. The answers I got from Meacham weren't enough to justify leaving.”

“You went to Meacham's? How did you end up here?
Why
did you go to Meacham's?” Light reflected off her glasses. “Are you insane?”

“No. Only selfish, inconsiderate and thoughtless.” He laughed as he lifted her off her feet, then swung her in a circle. “Christ, I'm happy to see you.”

There wasn't any happiness in her thunderous expression. “You know what would have happened if you crossed the town boundaries? Even
I
can feel what's lurking out there. They probably wouldn't hurt me, but you? That darkness would rip your soul—your bright, shiny soul that's bound to mine for all eternity—into teeny, tiny bits. What in God's name were you thinking? Were you even thinking? Did you stop to consider if you sacrificed yourself, I'd die from heartbreak? Did you?”

Bright and shiny. That was an apt description of how he felt with her, even when she railed at him. “No, ma'am, I didn't.” His grin slipped. “The fingers of darkness stuck through the barrier and snagged my britches. All I could think was you'd do better than me. There'd be someone good enough for you eventually, but I had to let something else destroy the demon in me for you to get there. You're right, a hundred percent. We belong together, souls, hearts, bodies, every bit. Without you, I'm nothing. I don't deserve it, but will you forgive me?”

“If you swear you won't leave my side again until this is over.” She pressed her fingers to the wetness still clinging to his cheek. “You scared the hell out of me.”

“I swear on my black heart.”

“Then I forgive you.”

“How'd you find me?”

Her mouth twitched. “I had the strangest dream. There were two doves resting on a tombstone—I couldn't read the name on it. Something spooked them and they flew over the town until they landed on the stoop right outside the shop door. I heard my name, it sounded like a woman whispered it. I woke up then and you were gone. When I came outside, I turned for the cemetery and I ran because I knew you were in trouble.”

She'd sensed him somehow, the way she knew there were demons beyond the town. Tell licked his dry lips and turned his back on the boundary. “Let's go home. I'll tell you about Meacham. And Nebo, one of Father's minions, brought some bad news.”

“Why is it always bad news with you?” She took his hand. “Once wouldn't it be nice to have some good?”

“You found me when I was lost. That's better than good.” He squeezed her hand tight. “I also promised Wys we'd come by later. He's worried.”

“With good reason.” Sylvie sighed. “You know I have to work on the coats more.”

“There'll be time for that. As much as I hate it, I'll make sure you get undisturbed time to do what you need to.” He loosened his hold on her fingers. Even against his calluses, her skin grated on his. “But you can't do it all night long.”

“I hadn't planned on it.” She gave him a sideways glance. “I have other interests, you know.”

“Planning to teach me something from that book of yours?”

“Perhaps a thing or two. If you behave and don't run off again.” A smile curved her lips. “That book is full of useful knowledge.”

“I'm a willing pupil. Always had an ear for stories and liked doing things for myself, but I'm finding this book pretty damn riveting. I may have to study each and every page.” He grinned again. “Teach me more and don't be shy about it.”

“When have you ever known me to be shy?”

He tilted his head. “Well…what about—no. You're right. I've never once seen you act shy. You might blush, but you've always spoken your mind about everything.”

She shook her head, allowing soft tendrils of hair to frame her face. “You like it.”

“I love it.”

* * * * *

Sylvie dropped to her knees beside Tell. For his wandering and the weakness he'd showed this morning, he looked whole and hearty—and rock hard—lying amid the blankets padding the floor.

She ran her fingers over the hard, lean muscles of his arm. White scar lines marked where some demon had grabbed him once. A few tiny freckles dotted his biceps. He hadn't shaved since yesterday morning and his faced sported dark stubble. Between the scars, his build and the smirk he wore, he gave the appearance of a dangerous man. Yet he'd never posed a threat or been more for her than a hero. If the things Meacham and Nebo said were true, the man she called husband might be the death of everyone she loved. Right now, he looked ready to devour her in a completely different way.

She straddled his waist and settled her weight on his pelvis.

He met her gaze, his eyes shining blue as a cloudless sky. Beneath her, he seemed content, not the least bit restless or worried. She leaned down, resting her chest on his.

He cupped her bottom, splaying his fingers over her skin. “You're astounding.”

“How many women have you said that to?” She smiled to take the sharpness away. “There are women all over town mourning your married status.”

“And only one brave enough to tame me.” His hands slipped down to her thighs. “Only one I'd let have a shot at it.”

“Do you believe it's fate, like Meacham's prophecies?” She squirmed against his erection and her nipples hardened as they grazed his chest. “Maybe we were always meant to be together.”

“I'll give you that one. Always meant to be, always will be, in one way or another.” He lifted one hand to smooth hair away from her face. “Something about me is broken until you're at my side.”

Sylvie traced the lines of his lips. “You're not broken. You're just a little lost right now.”

“I'm happy right now. Content. Satisfied—well, almost. The only thing better would be if I buried myself inside you.” He turned his head and captured her pointer finger between his lips.

“I might know a way to lead you to satisfaction.” She pulled her finger free, then lifted her hips to settle over his rod.

He pushed into her as he watched through narrowed eyes. “Better.”

She rose and he met her on the downward stroke, pushing up to fill her. Slow, steady heat built in her body. Each brush of his hands across her ignited new pleasure. She braced her arms against the floor and pressed her body tightly to his. They rolled together with each thrust and he cupped the back of her head, pulling her mouth to his. The flick and tease of his tongue along hers made her clench harder around his shaft. His fingers played through her hair. Shivers rolled down her spine and flowed into the waves of pleasure mounting inside her.

Her breath caught as she climaxed and she forfeited his mouth, sinking her teeth into her lip. Tell's warm hands held her in place, pinning her on top of him. Sylvie sagged against him, panting. Their gazes met and she found the strength to smile.

He folded his arms around her and nuzzled the top of her head. Beneath her ear, his heart thumped loud and fast.

If only it could always be this way. His arms around me, our bodies together, and the sense of peace he gives me.

Downstairs, the clock in the fitting room chimed. Time carried them forward toward whatever destiny had planned, regardless of their feelings about it. She met his gaze again and the sparkle of joy he'd carried faded into dullness.

“I have to work on the coats.” Her voice sounded scratchy.

“Got some reading to do.” He let his hands drop to his sides. “We can't avoid Rhia and Wystan forever either.”

“Two hours?” She slid off him, then grabbed a quilt to wrap around herself.

“Sure.” He dragged his hand down his face. “Sylvie.”

“Yeah?”

“I'm sorry for this morning. Thanks for forgiving me.”

“I had to.” She lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “I love you too much to give up on you.”

“I know.” He closed his eyes and dropped his head back to the pillow. “I just hope it's enough.”

Chapter Twelve

Two coats hung where only one had before. Great ugly things made of wretched gray material that pricked and scratched Sylvie's hands worse than thorny vines. Her fingers throbbed as she forced her scissors through the dreadnaught and left a bloody smear across the edge. A tear escaped her eye.

This is for Rhia, who would do anything to protect me. I'll do the same for her.

She shook her head and the tear flew off her jaw. A few more snips and she'd have the cutout finished. Maybe tomorrow she'd have the strength to begin sewing.

Her arms and back ached from sitting so long, but her hands bore the worst of the abuse. She shook them out. Would they ever feel as though they weren't made from shards of broken glass hastily stuffed into gloves? Weariness and worry hung over her like a cloud. She needed a break away from her sewing room, away from the shop altogether. Tell was sleeping, the only sound from him the occasional snore. He'd nodded off with an old book on his lap shortly after they returned to the shop. Surely a few minutes alone outside to clear her head wouldn't hurt anything. She'd be near enough he wouldn't be a danger to himself or anyone else.

Sylvie closed the shop door behind her and stepped into the street. The sky glowed the color of an overripe plum, too black to be purple. A few stars glittered against the darkness, but the moon hadn't made an appearance. The street was unlit except at the far end where a lantern glowed. This part of town contained few homes, which made her shop feel like it was on the edge of the earth.

During business hours, the streets saw a variety of visitors. At night, it was almost as silent as the desert beyond the town's borders. Bugs hummed and the sound throbbed in her ears. Nights like this made her remember Berner when it was wild and riddled with demons that had foul intentions toward the human race.

She shivered and hugged herself. Those days were over, fading like a dream. Her niece and nephew would never know that kind of worry. She had to believe that, or none of this was worth the effort the Heckmasters had expended to make Berner peaceful again.

In the distance, a dog barked and a door slammed. Perfectly normal noises in a mostly normal place. The town where she might just raise children of her own with Tell. But that might be a long time off. There were still coats to make for her sister and Beryl. There was a demon to defeat. Maybe more than one. She chewed on her thumbnail as the wind lifted and raised a swirl of dust from the road that peppered her skin. She spat the dirt out and turned for the shop again. No sense in standing outside wasting time when all Meacham could talk about was how dire their situation had become.

“Sylvie.”

Her hand froze around the doorknob.

“Sylvia, wait.”

She turned and her heart skipped a beat. “Jeffrey?”

He melted out of the darkness into the faint lantern light oozing out the shop window. He looked composed and serious, a far different man than the one she'd encountered in his house days ago with Wys and Eban. “I have to speak with you.”

“What are you doing here? Are you all right? Does Eban know you've left the clinic?” She reached out to touch him, but drew back. The hair on her neck prickled. “How are you feeling?”

“I'm fine. Thank God I caught you. We have to go now. There's something strange happening in this town. It isn't safe any longer.” He grabbed her elbow. “Please hurry.”

“I can't leave. Tell—” Her teeth clacked as she closed her mouth. She drew in a deep breath. “Please unhand me, Jeffrey. Tell and I married yesterday. There can't be anything between us anymore.”

His grip loosened, but didn't fall away. “What? You married that-that
demon?
”

“He's not what you think. None of them are. It's complicated, but you're right. We are in danger. I'm trying to prevent some of it. Oh hell, it's hard to explain.” She shook her head. “You should go home. I'm glad you're better, but we shouldn't be talking alone. There are too many things I can't tell you about. So much that I wouldn't even know how to explain.”

Jeffrey tugged her arm. “Come with me. Forget Tell. You know what he is and it isn't natural. He's got you under some kind of spell, but if you leave him, leave this place, I'm sure everything will make sense again soon. This town is full of evil.”

“Let go. You can't be here. If Tell wakes up and hears you, he'll probably kill you. I know what you did to him and I don't like it.” She jerked her arm free of his grip. “I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings when we parted, but I'm happy with Tell.”

“I always knew he'd come between us. The time for niceties has passed. Come with me, Sylvie, or else.” A gleaming pistol slid from Jeffrey's trousers into his hand. “Come on or I'll kill everyone you love, those little hellion brat children of your sister's included.”

“Are you insane?” She stepped back. “You'd murder them all because you don't want me to be with Tell?”

“No, sweetling, I'd murder them because I want Tell's power.” Jeffrey bared his teeth in a wicked grin. “I'm going to use you to get to him.”

Even with the darkness shadowing his face, she caught the unholy spark in his eyes. Eyes that weren't quite human. Eban had suggested something was using Jeffrey like a meat puppet and whatever it was stared her down. Her legs shook as the seriousness of the situation hit her.

“No.”

His smile faded a touch. “Don't make me hurt you—not yet when the pain you feel won't benefit me. I want to use it later, savor it while I'm collecting Tell's powers.”

“You're not going to hurt my family. Not my sister or her children, not the Heckmasters, or anyone else.” She straightened her back. “Whatever you are, you're not welcome here. This is a good place filled with love.”

He laughed. The sound rang out and echoed against the neighboring buildings. “You think so?”

“I know it. I love that man in there with all my heart. There's nothing you can do to make me help you get to him.” She lunged forward and pushed him.

The Jeffrey demon staggered, but didn't fall. He moved with the speed of a bullet and grasped her throat. With inhuman strength, he lifted her, then slammed her against the door. “You're already mine, Sylvie. You've been mine since the day you laid eyes on me. When I lay you open and read the future from your guts while you writhe in agony, you'll come to realize how true that is. Pity I couldn't have had you while you were still a virgin, but beggars mustn't be choosy.”

She choked and clawed at his hands.

“Don't fight. It's no use.” Jeffrey dropped her.

Sylvie collapsed on the front stoop and coughed. All the strength had fled from her. Her legs wobbled uselessly as she tried to find her feet.

Tell.

She fought for the breath to call his name while she scratched at the door.

Jeffrey kicked her in the center of her back.

Sylvie screamed.

He grabbed her hair in a fist and pulled her head up. “Scream again. Bring him out. Let's see what Tell Heckmaster can do about his poor little wife's misery.”

Her body throbbed in pain and she let out a shuddering sob. “No.”

“So proud and defiant. What will that get you in life?” He drew his arm back, then slapped her.

Her glasses skittered into the darkness. Her mind reeled and spots darker than the sky swirled around her. The copper tang of blood filled her mouth.

“No, no, don't go just yet. We've got to wake that handsome husband of yours.” Jeffrey patted her cheek.

His touch brought a new flare of pain into her sore face. Sylvie moaned.

“Say his name. Loud. I want him to hear it. I want him to feel your suffering.”

“Go to hell.” Her voice came out a weak wheeze.

“I didn't want this, not yet, but…” He released her hair and grabbed her hand. With a sharp twist, he jerked her right arm into an awkward position behind her back and agony rolled through her shoulder as the bones separated with a snap.

She couldn't control the sound that spewed from her throat—half scream, half Tell's name. Blinding white light wiped out the black spots, overtaking her vision. Jeffrey let her go again, but she was too weak to do anything except crumple to the warm wood of the stoop. “No, no, no, Tell. Don't come out here.”

A small, hot hand rested on her cheek. “Dochi is here, mistress.”

“Warn Tell.” Tears rolled down her cheeks. “Get him away from here. Take him to Seneca.” Her tongue felt too big for her mouth and sour bile burned her throat as she struggled to sit up.

The little imp turned away from her with a snarl. “You harmed Dochi's friend.”

The shop door opened with a crash. “Sylvie?” He knelt next to her and pressed his hands to her face. “Christ, what happened?”

“Run,” she whispered.

“Hello, Tell. Nice of you to join us.” Jeffrey stepped over her. “Let me offer congratulations for your wedding. And condolences for your upcoming death.”

Tell rose. “What the hell are you?”

“A minor demon who's about to become someone important in Hell and on earth.”

“Dochi, I could use a little help here. Get Wys and Eban quick.”

“Yes, Master.” The imp disappeared.

“Tell, don't.” Sylvie sagged against the wall. She hugged her useless arm against her side. Every movement sent a jolt of pain through her. There was nothing she could do to prevent Tell from fighting with Jeffrey.

The dark red gleam in her husband's eyes signaled his anger despite the calmness on his face. “Not now, Princess. I have to kill this asshole. You sit still until I get Eban.”

The night brightened as his hands burst into flame. He lobbed a ball of flame at Jeffrey, who stepped aside in a blur.

“There are more demons waiting for you. You felt it, didn't you, this morning when you considered leaving Berner? We all want that power growing inside you. I mean to have it.” Dark tendrils curled from Jeffrey's fingers. They sped through the air at Tell then laced around his wrists.

The flames in his hands danced up his arms toward his shoulders. The ropes of inky blackness turned to ash.

“My powers ain't for sale and ain't for the taking.” Tell rubbed his hands together, creating a larger ball of fire. When he pulled his hands apart, the flames spread into long cords like whips. He whirled them around his head and lashed out.

Jeffrey hissed as the cords wound around his body. “You can't destroy me. I'm—” He broke off in a scream as his skin burned and melted like candle wax. The human flesh dripped away, leaving a twisted demon skull with three eyes and a mouthful of ragged teeth. The flames consuming him turned pink, so bright they were hard to look at.

Tell's face twisted as the demon flailed and then collapsed. Burning flesh scented the air and the creature exploded into ash. The flames on Tell's body vanished without even a curl of smoke.

“Sylvie.” He lowered himself to his knees beside her. “I'm so sorry he hurt you. Eban will be here in a minute. He'll make everything all right.”

She shook her head. “I wanted Dochi to tell you to run. You can't use your powers. You shouldn't have been able to use the fire.”

“I think that only worked because I was very pissed off. He didn't deserve such an easy death. If I wasn't so worried about protecting you, I'd have…” He scowled at the scattered ashes on the stoop. “I should have got to you sooner. If you'd woken me, I could have prevented this.”

“You needed sleep and I needed a minute away from the sewing machine. I thought he was human again. It was stupid not to go back inside when I saw him.” She closed her eyes. “Eban knew something was wrong with him.”

“Hey, it's not your fault. The best of us are fooled by demons.” He wiped blood from her lower lip. “Just stay still. We'll get you fixed up as good as new.” His fingers trailed across her tender cheek.

She opened her eyes a fraction. Tell glowed with faint orange light and his jaw tightened as he clenched his teeth. “Don't forget yourself. We're in public.”

“And not a single damn soul came running to help when they heard you scream. You could be dead.” His voice came out in a growl.

“I'm fine.” Battered and scared witless, but with him hunkered next to her, she was safe enough.

“And I'm the president. You're far less than fine.” His fingers dropped down to her misshapen shoulder. “Looks bad. Dislocated, maybe.”

She shivered. “It's going to hurt when he fixes it, isn't it?”

“'Fraid so, Princess. I'd do anything if I could take the pain from you.” He raised his head at the sound of footsteps. “Christ, that took long enough.”

Dochi materialized beside Tell with Sylvie's spectacles in his paw. “Forgive me, Mistress. Dochi tried to make them hurry. My masters' wives made a big fuss when they learned the news. Dochi cannot bring so many at once.”

“You did your best.” She forced a smile for him and shifted as she tried to sit up straighter. She took the frames from him, but didn't put them on. The pain made her stomach buck.

“Sylvie.” Rhia's face paled. “What happened?”

Tell rose and faced Eban. “You looked in on Jeffrey lately?”

“No, what does he have to do with this?” Eban brushed Tell aside.

“He attacked her. He would have killed her if—”

“No.” Sylvie clutched her arm. “No, he wanted you. I was only a way to get to you. Can one of you please help me up? I don't want to draw unnecessary attention out here.”

Tell bent on one side of her and Rhia wrapped her arm around her waist on the other side. “Up we go.”

Dizziness sank its claws into Sylvie. She swayed and leaned on Tell.

“I got you,” he murmured.

Wystan moved in front of them to open the door. “You can fix her, can't you, Eb?”