Veiled (28 page)

Good lord, it’s like I have a catholic school lecture going on inside my head.

I shake it loose and bring out my phone from beside the single bed, unable to sleep anyway.

The room is small, crammed full of computers and Dex’s equipment, plus a bookshelf and music memorabilia. Despite the cramped quarters, the space glows ominously in the electronic light and I have the creepy feeling the shadows just outside of the glow are moving.

Crawling.

Creeping.

Closer and closer.

I have to keep pausing whatever fashion account I’m stalking and shine the light around, paranoid that there’s something really there. I can almost hear it breathing when I’m not paying attention, but the moment I listen, it stops.

In time, though, I get more tired. My lids feel heavy. I almost put the phone down and try and make a go of sleep again when I have an idea.

Silas Black.

I enter it into Google along with the word Dublin.

A Wikipedia page is the first to pop up.

I click.

The page loads and my eyes eagerly scan it.

According to the Wikipedia gods, Silas Black was born in 1537, during the political strife of Ireland when the English administration destroyed the Fitzgeralds. His mother died in childbirth, it was believed anyway, and his father died trying to take over Dublin castle. After that the baby Silas was brought out to the Irish countryside by unknown people, some suspected relatives, others suspected it was a more sinister event such as kidnapping for rituals.

However, he later surfaced in his late teens in Meath, where he lived on a secluded farm near the Loughcrew cairns by himself.

Not much is known about Silas Black between that time and when he was twenty-seven, where he was known to predict a disease that would later take out a nearby village.

At twenty-eight he was seen holding a big bonfire on his property, the biggest ever seen in the area, and according to witnesses walked right into the fire and disappeared.

At twenty-nine he was found guilty of five counts of murder, children taken from their homes and then offered up as sacrifice that people at the time blamed on the Druids, even though their religion would never condone such a thing.

At thirty he had miraculously escaped a Dublin prison, vanishing right before the guard’s eyes, leaving behind a cell covered in ash from floor to ceiling, the outline of his body burned against the walls in black soot, despite the guards insisting there was no fire.

He was never seen again but there are many legends surrounding Silas Black, particularly with his involvement with the Devil and black magic.

There’s a lot more legend than fact about the man.

But it’s all I need to know.

Jay wasn’t exaggerating when he said that he had been a bad, bad man.

Silas Black had probably been in league with the Devil.

And that’s his
human
side.

Which means the longer he’s with me, the more that Silas gets pulled out.

The more that evil could potentially compromise Jay without him even knowing it.

Like that Irish accent coming out at the most intimate or humanistic times.

Like that look that came into his eyes while we were outside the restaurant.

The look that belonged to Silas Black.

Jay literally has the Devil’s subject lying dormant inside him, waiting to come loose at my touch.

Our relationship just got a lot more complicated.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

I barely sleep.

All night long I have the sensation that there are things in the dark crawling toward me, wanting to curl up inside my ears and nose and spread a horrible evil inside my brain. Turn me into something I’m not.

Then there are the dreams. Fragmented and fleeting but upon waking—bathed in sweat—I have the feeling that it’s the same dream over and over again.

A large bonfire.

Crackling. Embers into a night sky.

A moon severed in half.

People in robes, chanting with goat faces.

Jay stepping out of the flames, dressed in old fashioned clothing.

Eyes glowing red.

Grabbing me with clawed hands.

Pulling me into Hell.

Thankfully it’s morning and daylight is streaming through the window, illuminating the dust, and the room has already taken on a hot, muggy feel. Maybe that caused the dreams, why I’m sweating. It’s hot as Hell in reality.

But I know that’s not why.

I glance at my phone and am surprised to see it say ten thirty. I slept way in.

I quickly shove on a dress, the concert tee one that Perry picked up at the Portland market weeks ago, noting that the whole apartment is strangely silent. Usually there’s some sort of hustle and bustle in this place, either the scamper of Fat Rabbit’s paws or the whine of the shower running or bacon sizzling on the stove. But the whole apartment buzzes like empty space.

Once I open the door and don’t see anyone, I’m more assured it’s empty. Everyone has gone and left me, even Fat Rabbit.

But as I step into the living room I see Jay out on the balcony, his back to me and showing in filtered waves as the white curtains dance from an unfelt breeze.

He turns around, an emptiness in his eyes as he takes me in. At least he’s not Silas.

He has to know.

“Where is everyone?” I ask him.

He steps into the room, his frame seeming too big for the place, like the apartment is struggling to contain him. “They took the dog for a walk. Left a few minutes ago.”

I rub at my eyes and move over to the Keurig to make myself a cup. “I slept in so long . . .”

“You had some bad dreams.”

I freeze as I open the top of the machine, feeling his eyes at my back, like rays of sunshine. Warm yet probing, leaving me vulnerable. I pop the K-cup in. “You could tell?”

“More walls,” he says.

I press on and as the machine noisily does its thing, I turn around to face him, leaning back against the counter.

“Jay . . . I had dreams about you. As Silas Black.”

He nods, like he was expecting this. “I could read the fear off of you. I’m more closely connected to you than ever before.”

“Which is a pretty good thing since we’ll be going into Hell together.” I pause. “Have you told my sister what we’re doing?”

He shakes his head, coming forward and leaning with elbows on the kitchen island, his hands absently running over a magazine. “It’s not for me to tell,” he says. “And I’m not sure if it would do any good.”

The machine stops hissing. I pick up my coffee and let the warmth flow into my palms. I breathe it in, inhaling the morning. It’s the little things that make me happy sometimes and I’m guessing every little thing will start to stand out when you know you’re heading to Hell.

I take a sip and sigh. Unfortunately the caffeine can’t ward off reality. “I want to tell her. Just in case I don’t come back, you know? I also want her to know I’ve been trying. That . . . I’m more than she thinks I am. That I’m worth something, too.”

“I think she already knows that, Ada,” he says, a wistful quality to his voice. “It radiates from you. An energy you can’t ignore.”

“Regardless,” I go on, “she would worry too much. I mean she wouldn’t let me go to begin with. Obviously. She would tie me down and lock me in the guest bedroom and I’d stay there for weeks, forced to watch Dex work on his music videos.”

“Not only that,” he says gravely, “but she would interfere. She would create portals to try and rescue you and bring you back and we both know things would not end pretty. She can’t know, Ada. You can tell her after, but not now. Not while your mother’s soul is at stake.”

That’s exactly the kind of thing that Silas Black would say in an attempt to thwart off my only means of being rescued if everything goes wrong.

But I brush it off. I can’t think like that.

“Look, Ada.” Jay comes around the island and stops right in front of me. I swear he’s going to kiss me, touch me, and my body immediately pulls toward him. But he puts his hands on my shoulders, holding me at a firm distance. “I know you’ve lost your trust in me. I can’t explain what happened last night. All I know is that there is a soul inside me I haven’t quite shed, though I’ll do everything to bury it. I promise I am here to protect you, to watch over you, to keep you alive. That’s my job and duty and nothing can break that bond.”

“Silas Black was in league with the Devil,” I blurt out. “He was an evil man who did black magic and disappeared without a trace.”

He doesn’t flinch which confirms that he knew.

“You knew?” I hiss at him.

He exhales, nodding. “I knew. Of course I knew. I had to Google myself the moment I found out my name from Jacob. We’re not supposed to, but I had to know.”

“And you didn’t tell me!”

“You would have treated me differently,” he says. “And as I’ve said before, I am not him.”

“But he comes out the more that I spend time with you, let alone sleep with you! Oh my god . . . what have we done? And you knew. You told me that another side would come out of you, a bad side.”

“And you accepted that risk quite well,” he reminds me sharply.

The thing is, even if I had known what sleeping with him really meant, I still would have done it.

“Ada,” he says, gripping my shoulders tight and peering at me. “I can get this under control. I am still me. Silas is dead.”

“But he’s not, he
wasn’t
, an ordinary human!” I whisper frantically, trying to avoid his eyes. “He’s practically a warlock. A disciple of Satan. He’s . . . magic.”

“I told you that all Jacobs come from people that have abilities. The person can be good. Or bad. It doesn’t matter because it’s just a vessel in the end, one we take over and mold to ourselves. But Jacobs aren’t good or bad either. We are both. You need the balance to live in the world in-between.”

“Sometimes I think there’s a bad batch of them,” I mutter, remembering Perry’s Jacob.

“Look at me,” he says. He grips my chin in his fingers, their heat searing into me, and raises my head to meet his eyes. He’s sincere. He’s pure and powerful and everything Jay.

Some of the fear subsides. “How can I be sure you’ve got this under control?”

“You just have to trust me.” He lowers his voice, leaning in, the world taking on a dreamy quality. His eyelashes are beautifully long, black frames around glacial blue. My mouth parts open, waiting. “And I have to keep my hands off of you.”

“What?” I say absently, my eyes drawn to his mouth, dying for another taste of him.

Abruptly he lets go of my shoulders and steps back, bumping against the island. “I can’t touch you anymore.”

I snap out of my stupor. “What?” I exclaim.

He raises his palms. “Short-term solution, I promise.”

“That’s ridiculous,” I tell him. “I only meant for this time here with Dex and Perry.”

“I know,” he says. “But until I talk to Jacob about this, I’m not risking anything. The more I’m with you, intimately, the more I feel. The more I open myself to changing, becoming someone else. I don’t know how to control those emotions right now but what I do know is that it makes me vulnerable. And right now, I can’t be vulnerable. I have to be able to protect you in every single way.”

“So then we just don’t have sex for a bit,” I say and wince at how put-upon I sound. It’s been exactly twenty-four hours since he was last inside me and I’ve been craving him like some junkie on the streets. There may have been a bump or two where the desire was masked by fear, but it’s always been there, thrumming like an undercurrent.

“Nothing intimate,” he says. “Back to the day I first met you. I mean, outside of your dreams.” He pauses. “We can do it. We have to. It shouldn’t be this hard.”

“Why is it this hard?” I implore him. “What the hell did you do to me?”

He shrugs. “Damned if I know. But I’m sure there’s a very good reason why it’s forbidden. Being forever bound, forever hungry for the other, must be one of them.”

I swallow, feeling my face flush. “You’re hungry for me?”

His lips twist in a half-smile. “All the time, princess.”

Somehow that makes me feel better, knowing this crazy shit isn’t just in my head, that I haven’t blossomed into womanhood with a raging vagina. I mean, I know women develop feelings after they sleep with a guy, but this is fucking ridiculous.

“As for Silas,” he says, bringing me out of my amped-up thoughts, “maybe going to Hell will be a good way of putting him back where he belongs. If I run into Satan I can just sort of pawn him off on him. You know, I’ve tried it out and it’s not working, here, take him back.”

“Are you seriously making a joke about returning a soul to Satan, right before we’re headed to literal Hell?” I ask incredulously.

“Too soon?”

“If being around me brings out your sense of humor too, I think a little more distance is needed,” I warn him, walking over to the couch with my coffee and giving him the glare to stay put.

It’s not long after that Dex and Perry and Fat Rabbit come back from the walk. Miraculously this time, Fat Rabbit doesn’t bark or growl at Jay at all, in fact he runs right over to him, licking his hand. That put all sorts of relief back into my heart. Jay was back to Jay for now and I could only trust he would do what he could to stay that way, even if it was at my desire’s expense.

Soon after we get ready to leave, telling Perry and Dex we’re heading to the interior to check out the Washington wine areas and will head back home after a couple of more days.

I play it off as casually as I can but I’m not sure either of them believe me. Dex gives me a hug and tells me to watch myself. He then proceeds to tell Jay that if he lays one finger on me, he’ll chop it off and feed it to the dog.

Jay has the sense to look worried—even if just for show—and when he promises Dex it won’t be a problem, he believes him. Believe me, Dex, we’re
way
ahead of you.

When Perry hugs me though, she whispers in my ear. “If you need any help, at any time, you call me.” She taps the side of my head. “In here.”

“I will,” I promise and hope I never have to. I get a sloppy dog kiss from Fat Rabbit and then we’re off on our road trip to Hell.

***

It turns out Hell is a lot closer than you’d think.

For us, the nearest portal is on an island in the San Juans, hovering between the American and Canadian border. I know that Perry and Dex filmed an EIT episode on a haunted island on the Canadian side, but thankfully we don’t have to deal with borders and passports.

We get on one of the Washington State ferries with the Mercedes and head across blinding blue water. The sun is out in full force, the breeze is mineral fresh, carrying the scent of pine and dried moss. It’s hard to imagine we’re about to leave this world behind. It’s the kind of day that makes you believe the Devil doesn’t exist.

Once we’re on the island, with sleepy towns, tourists, and anchored boats flashing past, I ask Jay how exactly he knows where he’s going.

“Instinct,” he says, taking off his shades as we turn off one of the main roads and head down a gravel one blanketed by forest. “Doesn’t it feel right to you?”

It does. Because the more I’m on this island, the more it looks familiar. The trees, the darkness of the forest. Out by the shore there are cliffs of quartz and tan-colored moss, dried out by the sun, the very cliffs I’ve stood on in my dreams.

“We’re going to a pond, aren’t we,” I whisper, staring out the window as the dark trees roll past down the bumpy road.

“Yes. I do believe so.”

I shudder, feeling as if a black cloud has come over us, shedding sticky tears of tar.

Jay puts his hand on mine before he abruptly takes it away, remembering he shouldn’t touch me. “You’re going to be okay. You’ve got me and I’m not going to let a thing happen to you. You hear me?”

I try to make a noise of agreement but it comes out more as a squeak, words compromised by fear.

We keep driving, deeper and deeper into the forest. The sky starts to darken, even though sundown is hours away. It’s like the further we drive, the closer we are to night, to a place where light can’t enter.

Or perhaps a giant cave that will swallow us whole, take us straight to Hell before we even know what’s going on.