Your Lycan or Mine? (Broken Heart Book 14) (5 page)

A
SH SAT
IN
bed propped up on pillows while she scanned the news on her tablet. Jarod had gone downstairs to get breakfast for them both. She’d texted Nor, but hadn’t heard back from him. The man took forever to get ready in the mornings, so she wasn’t too concerned about his lack of response. Ash couldn’t stop the smile when she thought about telling Nor she’d slept with Jarod.

More than that, actually.

She’d connected with him. It was a new feeling, and one she surprisingly enjoyed.

Someone knocked. Ash got up, slipped on Jared’s shirt, which reached her knees, and answered the door.

“Rick.”

“Hi, Natasha.”

Ash winced. She hated the reminder of her painful past. The only time the name didn’t raise the ugly memories was when Jarod used it. “Please call me Ash.”

He nodded. “Ash. Sure. May I come in?”

She gestured for him to enter. After he walked inside, she shut the door. “How are you feeling?”

“Pretty awful really.” He huffed out a breath. “You told Maggie that Sarah—my wife—was dead.”

“She asked me, I told her.”

“You don’t tell a kid that her mom’s dead.”

“I do a lot of things, Rick, but I don’t lie.”

He swallowed hard and briefly closed his eyes. “So, she really is dead.”

“Yes. I’m sorry,” Ash said softly. “Do you remember what happened?”

“We were making dinner. Maggie had just finished her bath and was supposed to be picking up her toys. I smelled this … Jesus, I don’t know … like something rotten. Something burning. Everything in the kitchen went wild. I heard this horrible laughter then the knives flew off the counter and…” He didn’t finish, but he looked devastated. Waking to a life ruined was a feeling she knew all too well. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

The silence that stretched between them was filled with seven kinds of misery. She had spent so long shoving down her feelings, that a moment like this one felt like getting filleted by a dull knife. Jarod had cracked the walls around her heart. Now she was feeling shit hardcore.
So much for my mind of steel and heart of stone.

She took his hand and squeezed. “Make a life here, Rick. You and Margaret are protected in Broken Heart.”

“We don’t have anywhere else to go.” He glanced at her. “Are sure Maggie is safe here?”

“Yes,” said Ash simply.

“She’s still asleep. She cried herself practically into a coma.”

Ash’s gut twisted. The kid had been so strong on the ride to Broken Heart. Her dad had been unconscious the whole trip, and she’d never once shed a tear. She’d waited until she’d felt safe—safe enough to grieve. Ash admired the little girl. Margaret and Rick had a shot at a real second chance in Broken Heart, but she knew that healing often hurt worse than the initial wound.

“Trust me when I say you both will survive. It won’t feel that way for a long while, but day by day it gets better.” The loss of her mother would either make Margaret stronger or break her completely. Ash bet on stronger. “I’m leaving this morning. Say good-bye to her for me.”

“I will.” He turned and then stopped, looking over his shoulder. “Thank you.”

After he left, Ash flopped back onto the bed. Cripes. Caring about people was crazy hard work.

M
arietta
, Ohio

CLAIRE AWOKE SUDDENLY,
her body soaked with sweat and her heart pounding. She sat up and snapped on the tiny lamp.

What the hell just happened?

Nightmares were nothing new. She often dreamed of the accident. And her dreams, terrifying or not, were always in color. Her last image of Henry was his bloodied face, his gaze filled with pain. Those horrors had faded, but watching the light go out of her fiancé’s eyes was not a memory she would ever forget.

This nightmare had been different, though. It hadn’t involved Henry. Instead, she’d ran through a cemetery, fear keeping a constant tempo with her heartbeat. The full moon glinted off a marble crypt, and she headed toward it. Relief filled her as she darted through the doorway.

The small building was empty. Candles in wall sconces offered dim light. Against the back wall was an altar. Incense sticks lodged around the top emitted thin trails of fragrant smoke from their burning ends. Two fat red candles sat on either side of an empty space.

The idol was missing.

“You can be with him again,” a voice whispered on the wind whistling through the sarcophagus. “I can reunite you.”

The air stilled. The candles flickered around the empty space. “You hold the key.” The voice, distinctly female, grew stronger. “Do you love him enough? Are you brave enough to risk everything for Henry?”

Claire shuddered. She swung her legs off the bed and wiggled her toes against the shag carpet. It had all seemed so real. She couldn’t begin to decipher all the symbols. Or was it … literal? She nearly discarded the thought but hesitated. If she interpreted the nightmare literally, then she had some sort of object that would fit into that alcove. And the crypt existed.

Ever present grief speared her. The dream had presented her with an offer. A sacrifice that would reunite her with the only man she’d ever love. In a way, it was worse than seeing Henry’s bloodied face. The dream had made her hope, and there was nothing more wounding in the stark face of waking reality. Tears crowded her eyes. She fell onto her side and wept into her pillow. When she couldn’t cry anymore, she pried open her puffy, aching eyes.

The owl head, bright red and glowing in a sea of gray, stared at her from the nightstand.

Claire sat up and swept the owl into her shaking hands. This was the treasure. The only color she’d seen in a whole year. It had been in the living room when she’d gone to bed.

How had it ended up on her nightstand?

Had she really awoken from the nightmare? Maybe she was still in it. Or maybe she’d finally gone insane. She reached over and turned on the bedside lamp. Her gray world collapsed, and the whole room became vivid with colors. The sight left her confused and crazed.

Claire turned the owl around in her hands. She’d trade her own soul to see Henry one more time. Maybe she had gone insane, but she didn’t care. A cheap, red owl head couldn’t hurt her.

Claire felt the oppressive presence immediately. She gasped for air as icy fear coated her.

Before her appeared a massive creature that belonged only in nightmares.

This isn’t real. I’m still dreaming.

The creature placed his scaly claws on her head. “You are the sacrifice that will free my queen, and you will be reunited with your love. Come, human. Thy destiny awaits.”

B
roken Heart
, Oklahoma

AFTER BREAKFAST, ASH
and Jarod left the Three Sisters. Ash patted the pocket that protected the silver-painted clay snake. They’d been calling it a necklace, but it was more like a bracelet. It was just as cheap and gaudy looking as the lion’s body.

“How do we find the third piece?” she asked.

“I think it will find us.” He nodded at the couple walking toward them.

“Hi,” said the dark-haired man. “I’m Matt Dennison, and this is my wife Natalie.”

“Hi. I’m Ash. He’s Jarod.”

“Sorry to be abrupt,” said Natalie, “ but I have a very persistent spirit named Henry, who says his fiancé is in trouble.”

“You’re from the Amahte Family,” said Jarod. The Amahte vampires could see and interact with ghosts and other types of spirits.

“Yes.” Natalie grabbed Ash’s hands. “Claire Glass lives in Marietta, Ohio. She’s under the influence of a demon. He’s taking her to some old cemetery there—one they don’t even use anymore. You’ll find her in a black marble crypt at the back edge of the property.”

Shocked, Ash stared at the woman. “Claire Glass? Are you sure?”

Natalie looked off to the right and then nodded.

“She was my best friend from elementary through high school.”

“Well, I guess this part will make sense to you then.” Natalie’s lips thinned. “Maybe. Henry says, Claire has the owl. She
is
the third sacrifice.”

Matt took Natalie’s hand and drew his wife into his embrace. “Good luck, Ash” he said.

“I’m sorry I can’t tell you more,” Natalie added. Together, they turned and walked away.

Adrenaline spiked in Ash’s belly. Fear beat a mantra in her mind:
Hurry, hurry, hurry.

“Let’s get to the cemetery,” said Ash. “We have to get to Claire before the demon kills her.”

“We need the lion and the snake,” Jarod said.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Ash knew what the prophecy said, but it was a huge risk to have all three pieces together.

“It’s the only way to truly stop her. She already has the first two sacrifices, if she manages to make your friend the third, the only hope we have is to trap her in the statue.”

“Okay,” Ash agreed. She didn’t like the plan, but a bad plan at this point was better than no plan. Besides, Claire’s life and the fate of the world left her little choice. “Let’s go.”

C
LAIRE DIDN’T DRIVE
anymore
. Color was an intrinsic part of most traffic signs. And not being able to see red or green at stoplights was problematic. To go anywhere, she had to take the bus. Her mind felt clouded. Every so often, she’d surface from the fog and wonder what was happening. The demon, hiding in human form, would smile at her, look deeply into her eyes, and she’d fall into fog once more.

The nearest stop to the cemetery was six blocks away. With the demon holding her hand, they got off the bus. Cold rain drizzled. The chilly drops pelted her face and dribbled down her neck.

They hurried along the sidewalk. The glare from the streetlights highlighted the graffiti-filled walls, the trash-strewn gutter, and the barred windows of the closed businesses. Most were pawnshops interspersed with a beauty shop, a gun store, and a Mexican restaurant with filmy windows.

The man wore Henry’s clothes, and Claire felt a burble of guilt. She shouldn’t have kept any of his clothes. It wasn’t like he would ever be able to wear them again. Seeing Henry’s button-down shirt and crisp khakis on the demon made her angry, but the emotion was a dull throb. She couldn’t figure out how to change what was happening.

“Not far now,” he said, his toothy smile flashing at her, sharp and white.

Claire trudged beside him, unable to protest.

The red owl sat in her purse. Waiting.

A
FTER THEY ARRIVED
at Soul Searchers via the exploded atom method of travel, Ash yelled, “Nor! We need the lion.”

She paused. Something felt wrong. The hair stood up on the back of her neck. “Nor?”

“Why is it so hot in here?” asked Jarod. “Don’t you use the air conditioner?”

“It requires electricity.”

“You don’t have electricity?” Jarod’s dark eyebrows winged upward. He pulled a cell phone out of his front pocket and hit a single number. “I’m at the office of Soul Searchers, just off Fremont in Las Vegas. Get us electricity. Take care of every debt and bill related to this office, to Natasha Nelson, and to Sedrick North. Just start a running account.”

Within a few minutes, the lights flickered on. Her computer re-booted. The rest of the office machines beeped to electronic life. Best of all, cold air began to pour into the room. Ash wasn’t sure if she should be pissed off or grateful. She went for a combo. “Thanks, but you don’t have to fix my problems.”

“Did I mention that I’m filthy rich?” asked Jarod.

“Oh.” Ash smiled. “Nor will really want to keep you now for being both filthy and rich.”

“As long as you do, too.”

Ash felt herself blush.
Blush,
for God’s sake. She walked around Jarod so he wouldn’t see her reddened face.

Ash strode across the room and opened the door to the tiny kitchen with its single table and two chairs. “Nor!” Her partner lay on the floor. If she didn’t know better, she’d think he had passed out from one of his typical booze ‘n love fests, but his body was too still, his face overly pale. She squatted next to him, panic rising within her.

“Nor? Nor!” Ash patted his cheeks, afraid to check for a pulse.

Jarod knelt next to her. “What’s that on his neck?”

She peered at the three slanted lines enclosed in a circle. Nor didn’t have any tattoos. How the hell had this one gotten on him? “I don’t know.”

Jarod pressed his fingertips against Nor’s carotid artery. “He’s alive.”

Relief cascaded through Ash. “We need a healer.”

“I agree.” Jarod retrieved his phone and pushed a button. “Patrick, is your Mom around? Ask her to come to Soul Searchers—yes, Natasha’s office in Vegas. We have an emergency.”

Two seconds after Jarod’s call, a red-haired goddess dressed in a diaphanous green gown arrived in a shower of gold sparks.

“Brigid,” said Jarod. “Thank you for coming.”

She knelt down and examined the prone werewolf. “Demon poison. I haven’t seen that symbol in a while.” Her sharp gaze sliced Ash. “The sign of Lilith.”

“Shit.” Ash was officially pissed. And she was going to kill Lilith. “This is my lycan, Brigid. Mine. Do not let him die.”

“I will do all in my power to keep him alive.” Brigid picked up the six foot four, 240-pound man as if he weighed no more than a bag of feathers. “If you don’t stop Lilith, I can only postpone the inevitable. If she is able to manifest, her power will be too strong for me to abate. Your friend will become one of her minions.”

Ash understood all too well what Brigid implied. If she didn’t stop Lilith, Nor would be lost to her. The lycan wouldn’t want a life without choices, certainly not a life ruled by an evil puppet master. “Brigid…If we can’t stop her…Nor. He wouldn’t want…” Ash choked down the emotion welling inside her. “He hates to wear black.”

“I understand, Ash.” Brigid smiled. “I’ll take him to Broken Heart. Come when you can.” She and Nor sparkled out of sight.

Heart pounding, Ash strode to her desk, pulled open a file drawer and grabbed the box that held the lion’s body. She tore off the lid and swore.

It was empty.

“Fucking demons.” She tossed the box to the floor and kicked the desk, furious. She’d sent Nor home with the statue. She’d put him in danger. It was her fault. Her parents. Rick’s wife. Claire. And now Nor. “Fucking bitch!” she screamed, tears running in hot streaks down her cheeks .

Jarod wrapped her in his arms and stroked her hair as he held her against his chest. “We’ll stop them at the cemetery, Natasha. Lilith won’t win.”

For a moment, she took his comfort, but she knew she had to get her emotions under control. She stepped out of Jarod’s embrace and nodded sharply. Her jaw clenched with her barely contained fury. She would teach Lilith just who was the biggest, baddest bitch in the land. The demon queen would regret challenging Ash.

“Let’s go.”

Jarod took her hand, and in seconds, they were gone, cells exploding and zipping along, on a direct path to Lilith.

M
arietta
, Ohio

IN THE AWFUL
crypt, Claire fought the hold the demon had on her. She surfaced from the mind-fog and backed away, clutching her purse. That owl head was the key to this whole mess. She knew that she couldn’t let him have it, not for anything.

He put a headless lion into the candle-lit alcove. “Place the owl head on the lion’s body!”

“Why?” she whispered.

“It does not matter. Do as I say!” He lifted his arm as though he meant to strike her. She hunkered against the wall, and screamed.

T
HE RUSTED IRON GATE
sported a damaged sign:
Garden Hill Cemetery
. The narrow road that led into the defunct cemetery was several feet to the left of the crumbling mortuary. The gate opened easily, so it wasn’t exactly high security.

Sheeting rain pelted them, but Ash shrugged off the storm. She understood the dark. She thrived in it. But this wasn’t about her survival, it was about her friends.
Nor and Claire first
, she thought,
then the world
. She didn’t want to think about how her drag queen werewolf was fighting for his life, or how her childhood friend might lose hers.

Jarod took her hand and squeezed. With that simple gesture he reminded Ash that for once, she wouldn’t be alone. Not ever.

“Thank you,” she said.

“For what?”

She lifted his hand, their fingers twining together, fitting perfectly as if born in union. “For finding me.”

“You’re my other half. My mate,” Jarod said. “I’ll always find you.”

Ash nodded, then let him go. They’d need their hands free for the upcoming fight, but that little bit of contact had bolstered her will and strengthened her resolve. “Okay. Let’s go kick some demon ass.”

Together, they strode through cracked and crumbling gravestones. Within minutes, they saw the black marble crypt on a small hill.

Ash cataloged her assets. Knives. Sig. Therianthrope. Tonight, she wore white jeans and a white T-shirt, which looked pretty good with her pink leather jacket. Nor was forever trying to get her to wear more colors, but he always went for out-there shades that made her flinch. Her heart squeezed. She wanted to see him with her own eyes—just to know he really was okay. She patted a zipped pocked on the inside of her jacket. It hid the snake necklace. The final piece of the puzzle.

Please, don’t let me be too late.

The black marble crypt was small—maybe ten feet wide and nearly as tall. They were approaching from the south side, so they couldn’t really see the front of it. The closer they got, the slower and quieter they became.

Two flashes of sparkling gold appeared to their left. She had her gun whipped out and aimed at the same time Jarod pointed his staff, crackling magic at the ready.

Lorcan and Patrick stood there, looking fearsome, especially with their fangs exposed. “We hear some demons need ass-kickin’,” said Patrick.

“You heard right.” Ash was glad for the back-up. Especially from two of the most powerful parakinds in Broken Heart. The twins were the sons of the first vampire ever made, Ruadon. And Lorcan had werewolf in him as well.

While, she hated being without Nor, she couldn’t have asked for two better men, along with Jarod, to back her up in this fight. Still, she missed Nor. She always felt better going into a hinky situation with him at her side. The man could throw a punch like Mike Tyson
and
pin bad guys with a well-placed stiletto. But Lilith wasn’t your average bad guy, and she’d already taken out Nor without lifting a finger.

The four of them hurried as a unit toward the slight incline. Just as they reached the south wall, the rain returned with a vengeance. Ash was soaked in seconds, but it didn’t matter. Her mind was focused on their goal. She scuttled along the wall, turned the corner, and slipped toward the doorway. She stopped at the edge of the entrance and peeked around it.

Candles offered dim light in the dark space. She saw the demon immediately. He was nearly seven feet tall, his obsidian skin as bumpy as a toad’s. His eyes glowed an awful red.

Ash’s heart jumped into her throat. She knew instinctively that was the creature who’d tried to kill her in that Las Vegas alleyway. Jarod gripped her shoulder. His touch, like magic, shed the terror from her like molting skin. She could see the demon for what he really was, another evil fuck-twit to vanquish from this plane of existence. She’d let fear cripple her for a moment, a testament to the demon queen’s power and reach.

But no more. It was time to focus on the task at hand.

Kicking Lilith’s ass.

Ash’s gaze shifted to the thin, trembling woman.
Claire.
An older version of the girl she once knew. Her old friend looked drained, her expression confused, her eyes glazed.

Ash scooted back and leaned toward the men. “Surprising that asshole is our only advantage.”

“We’ll take the demon,” said Jarod.

Relieved, she nodded. “I’ll get Claire and destroy the complete vessel.” She’d have to put the pieces together then destroy it before Lilith managed to kill Claire and use the statuary as a conduit to this world.

She slipped out a dagger from her left boot and then hurried into the crypt with Jarod and the two vampires right behind her.