The Mephisto Covenant (3 page)

Jax shot a disgusted look toward them. “This is the first time we’ve seen a group this young, which means this is new territory for Eryx. I imagine he had no clue the best way to recruit kids and Alex’s Ravens are a trial run. Wherever they try again, they’ll do it better.”

One of the others spoke up. “Jax, we have five minutes before the freeze fades.”

He glanced away, but didn’t respond, turning back to look at her with a funny expression on his amazing face.

“Why can’t you freeze Skia or Anabo?” she asked.

“There are certain things we can’t do to an immortal soul that belongs to Eryx, or to an Anabo soul that belongs to God.” “There are certain things we can do to you, Jax, if you don’t hurry up,” ponytail brother said
, “and you’re not going to like
any of them.” He looked torn, hesitant. “I don’t want to leave her.” “Later,” the one with a goatee said. “You’ll have to come back for her later. Besides, you can’t just take her.” He frowned. “Why not?” “Because she has to want
to go. Free will, bro. Can’t f—
around with free will. You know that.” “But I have her scent. She’s mine.” She blinked. “I’m sorry . . . what?” “I’m Mephisto—you’re Anabo. Since I’m the one who caught your scent, it means you’re intended for me.” Was he serious? Why would she be meant for a guy from Hell? If there was such a thing as destiny, she was supposed to find a quiet, smart guy, one who wasn’t over six feet tall, with midnight hair and a face she couldn’t stop staring at. He’d be Russian Orthodox. Or Episcopalian. He might even be Jewish. But he wouldn’t be from Hell.

“Maybe she’s meant for you,” goatee brother said, “but there are over three billion males on this planet, and she gets to pick which one she wants. Maybe that’s you. Maybe not.”

“Remind me to kick your ass when we get home.”

Sasha looked from his beautiful face to the others, lined in a semicircle behind him. “Do you mean . . . are you wanting to . . . if I went with you, would we be going to Hell? The real one?”

His smile was incredible. “We don’t live in Hell. We live in Colorado.”

“Come on, Jax. Erase her memory and let’s get on with it.” “You can erase my memory?” She was alarmed all over again. “Only the memory of me. Of us. You’ll remember everything until the Ravens froze.” “Why can’t I remember you?” “Because I don’t want you to. I
f I have any chance at all with
you, it’ll have to be as a normal guy.” He nodded toward the Ravens and his
brothers. “This is not normal.”

“Jax, shut up already and put her to sleep before we lose the freeze.”

“Dammit, Phoenix, I can’t leave her! What if I can’t find her again? What if she dies before I can come back?”

“It’s a risk you have to take.”

His expression was frustrated and desperate. “Do you have a boyfriend?”

In her dreams, Tyler Hudson asked her out and they fell madly in love. In real life . . . she shook her head.

“So, when I come back, even though you won’t remember me, do you think . . . would you . . .” He stopped and swallowed. “If you thought I was normal, and I asked you out, would you say yes?”

He was terribly earnest, actually looked worried she might say no. That a guy like him had even the tiniest bit of self-doubt blew her mind. “I’m sure I would, but how do you know I wouldn’t say yes now?”

Surprising her, he stepped back, his expression anxious. “Are you saying you’d go out with me, knowing what I am?”

She hesitated, not willing to lie, but not entirely sure of the truth.

“No,” he answered for her, “you wouldn’t. Of all those three billion guys, why would you pick me? I’m a freak.”

“Maybe we wouldn’t even like each other, so it wouldn’t matter.”

“I like you now, so really, it’s all about you.” “How can you like me? You don’t even know me.” “I know enough.” He was thoughtful for a minute, then said,

“What’s the one thing a guy could say to you that would be irresistible?”

“I don’t know. It’s never been said, because I’ve never met anyone
irresistible.” Although, if Jax
was a regular guy, she’d find him irresistible. He was beautiful, with silky black hair, a perfect face, tall and broad, wearing way cool clothes. But those eyes. They were so dark, and she couldn’t say why they made her think of Hell, but staring up at him, her mind went places it had never been before. Tucking her hair behind her ears, she focused on his chest. “Why is me being Anabo such a big deal?”

His voice was so low, so quiet, she had to strain to hear. “Our father is Mephistopheles, a dark angel who answers to Lucifer. That makes us sons of Hell. Only a girl with a pure soul can love a son of Hell. If you were ordinary, you’d be fainting, or screaming while you ran away.”

“Why me? Why not another Anabo?”

“There isn’t another one. At least, not that we know of. In a thousand years, we’ve only found one other, and she . . . well, she...”

Jerking her gaze to his, she asked, “Where is she?”

There was a long silence before he finally said, “Eryx killed her. If he knew about you, he’d kill you, too.”

She went cold. “That’s why Alex was taking me to him.”

He looked like he felt sorry for her. Like he felt bad for what he was about to say. “So long as you’re alive, there’s a chance we could find you, that you’d become Mephisto, that you’d have Mephisto children. The more of us there are, the more lost souls and Skia we can find, which makes it harder for Eryx.”

So there was a downside to being Anabo. A big one.

“Time’s up, Jax” ponytail brother said. “Put her to sleep and erase her memory. Now.”

Sasha tried to duck and run when he moved, but she’d barely begun to turn before his arms closed around her and everything went dark.

two

she woke up with the mother of all headaches.

Blinking as awareness filtered in slowly, she saw the flicker of candlelight on a metal ceiling and sat up so quickly, her head swam. Looking around hurriedly, she saw no one. The Ravens were gone. Rocks and dark splotches littered the floor, barely illuminated by the guttering candles. It all came back to her— leaving the apartment with Missy, coming to the Embarcadero, the Ravens’ hatred. The stoning.

What had happened? Had she blacked out and they all hit the road? Did they leave her for dead? A shudder ran all along her body, and she rubbed her arms as she stood, anxious to get out, away from this horrible place. Suppose they came back and realized she was still alive? Rushing for the door, she ran into the warehouse and stumbled toward the door to outside. Where was Alex? The last thing she remembered was seeing him laugh while the Ravens tried to kill her.

Dawn was just breaking when she ran into the narrow alley and sprinted for the street. The sound of a fishing boat horn drifted across the water, followed by the rumble of a bus as it passed where she stood on the sidewalk, waiting to cross. She was so glad to be outside, alive, free to go home. She didn’t want to think about later, what would happen when she saw the Ravens again. Her stomach heaved as she ran across the street, and she barely made it to a bush before she threw up. How could they do that to her? How could they hate her enough to want her dead? She’d never been in so much pain, every part of her body bruised, her face and head bleeding.

Straightening from the bush, it struck her all of a sudden that she had no pain now. Except for the headache, she wasn’t hurting anywhere. Holding out her hands, she saw that they looked just like always. She touched her face, her head, her arms—nothing.

Whoa. After being pelted with stones, how could she have not one bruise or scratch?

She began walking, faster and faster, trying to put as much distance, as quickly as possible, between herself and Pier 26. Ten blocks later, she spied a cab and ran out into the street, waving like a maniac. He pulled over and she got in, breathing hard while she gave him her address, then settled back and stared out the window, trying desperately not to cry.

Anabo. Alex had said she was Anabo, that it meant light, that she was a descendant of Aurora, the daughter of Eve. She hadn’t known Eve had a daughter. Before Cain and Abel, she had Aurora. Before she ate the apple and tempted Adam. Was it true? She’d always wondered if Adam and Eve were real, or just a story to explain the beginning of sin.

No way. Alex was not only a lowlife scumbag, he was crazy. There was no such thing as Anabo. If there was, she’d have heard of it. If Eve had had a daughte
r, wouldn’t there be something,
somewhere, that mentioned it?

Maybe she’d look it up. For now, though, all she wanted was the safety of her own room and a hot shower.

By the time the cab delivered her at the curb outside her building, she felt only slightly better. Inside, she nervously waited on the old elevator. Mom would be up by now, and maybe these days she didn’t care where Sasha went, but she was bound to want to know why Sasha was coming in at six thirty in the morning.

She opened the door, trying to be quiet, thinking maybe she could sneak down the hall to her room if Mom was in the kitchen, or her own bedroom, but no such luck. Mom was right there in the living room, sitting on the sofa, looking way pissed and even a little scared. She launched off into a long tirade, all in Russian, most of which Sasha couldn’t understand. She knew enough Russian to carry on a simple conversation, but when Mom got cranked up like this, forget it. Not that it mattered. Sasha was pretty clear on the message. Mom was furious.

She stepped into the room, and that’s when she saw that someone else was there. An enormous man sat in Dad’s favorite chair, staring at her from folds of fat, his small eyes never blinking.

“Mom,” she interrupted, “what’s going on? Who’s this?” Her mother didn’t answer. He sighed, setting his belly to jiggling. “I’m your uncle, Tim

Shriver.” Couldn’t she have come home
, had a shower, and faked being
sick so she didn’t have to go to school? Why did a fat guy who claimed to be her uncle have to show up right now? “I don’t have an uncle.”

“I’m married to your father’s sister, Melanie. Mike and I worked together for many years. Trust me, I’m your uncle.”

No way Dad had a sister and never told her. “Why weren’t you at his funeral? If you worked together, shouldn’t you have been there? And if Dad had a sister, she’d have been there.” She wasn’t about to trust anyone at this point. “Who are you really?”

“He tells the truth,” Mom said, now staring at the coffee table. In the background, the local news was on. “There was bad blood.”

Moving farther into the room, Sasha stared at Tim. “If you worked with my dad at the same insurance company, did you go to Russia? Do you have any ideas about who killed him?”

He darted a look at Mom, who was still focused on the table, motionless as a statue, before he looked again at her. “Mike didn’t work for an insurance company. He and I were with the CIA. Someone ratted him out.” Oh, God. Never, ever in
her wildest imagination had she
thought of something like that. “Mom, is it true? Did Dad really work for the CIA?”

Her mother nodded, looking miserable. “It’s how we met, when I was still in Russia. The situation in Moscow was terrible for me. I wanted to live in the United States, but they said no, until Mikhael said he would help me.”

“Why did they say no?”

“Because of my family. My grandfather was head of the KGB under the Soviets. His son, my father, became almost as important in the new Russian government, but everything was chaos, lots of scrambling for position, and an old enemy accused him of selling arms to rebels in Chechnya. He was imprisoned for treason.”

Sasha stared at her mother as if she were a stranger. Never in her whole life had she heard any of this. Mom had talked about her life in Russia as if it was idyllic. They had lived in the country, in the Ural Mountains, on a sheep farm. Mom’s mother had died when she was little and she had lived with her grandfather and father and a housekeeper named Marta. Was it all a lie?

Did she know her parents at all? She felt betrayed, like a dupe.

“I also worked for the Russian Security Council,” Mom said, “which is like our State Department, and it frustrated me as much as it did my father. There was so much corruption, so much suffering of the Russian people, all because of greed and power plays. Eventually, my father was exonerated, but he died not long after his release. I was bitter and wanted to leave, to move to the United States. Mikhael convinced the State Department I could be helpful to them, because of my background, so they hired me as an analyst, and I’m sure they hoped I’d pass along information as it came my way. Even after I arrived in the States, I continued friendships with people in Russia.”

Sasha’s hands were clenched into fists, and her whole body was stiff with anxiety and fear. “Was it one of your friends who killed Dad?”

If possible, her mother became more pale, looking up at Sasha as if she had cut her to the core. “No one knew he was with the CIA. He went to Russia as an insurance adjustor, and everyone believed his cover.”

“Obviously, someone knew, Mom. All this time, you knew he died because he was a spy, but you never told me. Why? And why won’t you tell me who killed him?”

“Why does it matter so much, Alexandra? He’s dead! Knowing who shot him won’t bring him back. You have to let it go!”

“I want a name, Mom.”

She deflated and looked down at the coffee table again, tears spilling across her cheeks. “A Russian operative. Yuri Andreovich.”

Finally, she knew, but it was a stranger whose name meant nothing at all, a Russian whose job was to assassinate foreign spies. He probably shot Dad, then went home to his family and had dinner. Just another day at the office for Yuri Andreovich. “How did he know? Who told him Dad was a spy?”

Mom didn’t say a word.

“The CIA is still investigating,” Tim said. He shot a look at Mom again. The tension in the air was thick with hostility. Her mother and Tim Shriver evidently despised each other. A lot.

Sasha sank down into the chair opposite his. “Why are you here?” she asked Tim.

“Katya, do you want to tell her?”

Slowly, her mother shook her head. Her hands clutched the folds of her robe, her knuckles white.

“Your mother has been fired from the State Department and is being deported to Russia. She has two hours to collect her things before an INS officer arrives to take her into custody.”

Sasha felt like her shoes were on the wrong feet, her hair was parted wrong, the sky had just turned green—everything in her world was becoming more screwed up by the second. “But she’s a citizen. They can’t deport a citizen, can they?”

“Actually, she’s not a citizen. The United States allowed her into the country, and the State Department hired her because they wanted her knowledge of the Russian government, but they never trusted her enough to grant her citizenship.”

“She and Dad were married! Doesn’t that give her automatic citizenship?”

“Usually, but in her case, no. You have to understand, your mother’s family were prominent in Russia, people with money and influence. The United States didn’t trust her reasons for defecting and have always been suspicious of her motives. It’s odd for someone to walk away from that kind of money and position.”

“If they don’t trust her, why did they hire her to work at the State Department?”

“Because she understands the inner workings of the Russian government, and she has important contacts there that are helpful to the United States. She has very minimal security clearance, so it’s not as if she can access state secrets.”

“What happened, Mom? Why did they fire you?”

Her answer was so quiet, Sasha barely heard her say, “Because of Alex Kasamov. He was sent here to get something from me, and when I refused to hand it over, he threatened to get me into trouble. I’d done nothing wrong, so I told him he didn’t scare me and he needed to go away.”

Sasha waited for her to finish, but Mom just sat and stared. And cried.

Tim sighed. “Kasamov is a Russian operative. He told the State Department that Katya was the one who ratted out your father. His proof was all hearsay, and Katya denied it, of course, but the accusation was enough to get her fired. And deported.”