Blood In The Stars (10 page)

“Uh . . .” She took a few steps forward and said, “I live on Ontario.”

“Can you see it from here? Where is it?”

Miller’s hand locked on her arm. She turned around and saw him shake his head. “Stay by me.”

Damien gave her a sad, puppy-dog face. “You won’t even show me? What kind of manners does this team have?”

Despite Miller’s protests and her own sense of self-preservation, her years of professionalism won out. She went to the window and pointed east in the direction of Lake Michigan. “I’m behind that black building there. The one with the spire.”

“Daria,” Miller called to her anxiously.

Too late. Damien’s hand clamped down on her arm.

“Mr. Hellerman,” Daria cried, attempting to withdraw her arm and failing miserably.

Damien didn’t acknowledge her as he reached out his free hand, palm facing the window. The glass dissipated before her eyes. She tried again to wrench her arm free, but to no avail. Panic flooded her as the hole on the window grew and a cool breeze brushed her face. Then a black cavity began to form inside the hole. The rest of the window remained intact but the chasm had developed into an abyss of darkness.

Miller rushed to them just as Damien’s hand tightened on her arm and he dragged her through the hole in the window.

“Ciao!” she heard as she screamed. She expected her body to slam into the glass wall sending her to an ugly death on the city streets. Instead, she propelled forward and fell into nothingness. Her world had turned darker than black. As if she were blind. Light ceased to exist. The only truth was the never-ending fall.

A deafening silence surrounded her. The darkness devoured all sound as it had the sun. And she continued to descend.

“Will you shut up, already?”

Daria jolted back, suddenly realizing she wasn’t moving anymore, not knowing she continued to cry out. When had she stopped falling?

Her eyes blinked to adjust to the sudden intake of light as she turned to the voice. She wasn’t that surprised to see Damien towering over her, burly arms crossed over his thick chest.

She found herself splayed on a bed sheet and jumped up in shock, scanning her surroundings. She was in her room. At home.

Daria sped to the door and wrenched it open. It didn’t move. She tried again. Still nothing. She whirled around and glared at Damien.

“Oh, yeah. You can’t get out that way. Sorry for the rough ride.”

Her frantic breaths steadied and she surveyed the room again. Although it looked like her home, it wasn’t. The light shining through the window came from the afternoon sun and it was still before noon.

“Where . . . where am I?” she asked, finding her voice within a cracked throat worn down from screaming.

“This is where you’ll be staying until we get married,” he replied.

Daria blinked, her brain not fully registering what he said. She could have sworn he said something about getting married, which made zero sense since they had just met.

“Huh?” she asked dumbly.

“Married. You and me.”

She hadn’t been hearing things. Still, she didn’t understand. “Why?”

“I’m not going to drink your blood since I’m already born with powers. And I’m basically immortal, so I won’t be eating your flesh. So it’s natural that the third choice of marriage is the best for us.”

Digesting his words took several interminable seconds. Finally, the light bulb went off in her head.
But if one of the Houses can claim this human, not only will the clan prosper, but also that House will rule over all the land.
That was what Jason meant. To lay claim through marriage.

Daria frowned. Jason needed to work on explaining the details. She planned to give him a piece of her mind when she got out of here.

She glanced at Damien who stood assessing her, confusion on his face from her long silence. If he wanted to marry her, he had a reason to keep her alive. For now.

“I heard you’re a demon,” she accused, backing away.

Pride emanated from his face. “Well, I’m glad I have a reputation. In my world, I’m known as a pretty powerful demon. I hope it keeps children up at night.” He gazed up at the recessed lighting and mused, “It’s hard to be in my shoes. You never know whether people will still be scared of you tomorrow.”

What an odd declaration. Did demons really worry about maintaining their image?

“You don’t have to be scared of me. Naturally, when you’re my wife, I’ll treat you really well.”

She almost laughed at the absurd statement. Was he saying he wouldn’t treat her well until then? What did he plan to do? Beat her into submission? She would rather not ask in case she put ideas into his head.

Think, Daria.
Her mind drew a blank. No solutions. No ready escape. She needed to buy herself some time, to figure out what she was up against.

“You want to marry me to let your House rule?”

“Since you know everything, I won’t bother explaining.”

“But we just met,” she appealed. “Marriage seems a little fast.”

“Whaddaya mean? You want to
date
?” He guffawed. “Honey, I could take you on some great dates. We have plenty of time for that.
After
we’re married.”

Reason wasn’t working in her favor. This goon had set his sights to marrying her and it seemed no amount of persuasion was going to change his mind.

Next tactic.
She folded her arms over her chest. “Not interested.”

His eyes widened. “Why not? I’m the oldest son of the House of Demons. You
should
want to marry me.”

About as much as she wanted to marry any other obnoxious, self-assured, chauvinistic pig. She made a face at him. Were all men out there so egotistical? So sure they could have any woman they wanted? No wonder relationships didn’t last long these days and divorce rates kept rising.

Understanding suddenly dawned on him and he strode over and got down on bended knee. “Will you marry me?”

Her first marriage proposal, and nothing like what she had always imagined. The giddiness in her stomach from anticipation, the realization that this man was the one, the scenes of their future together running through her mind . . . she had none of that. Only disappointment.

She’d never considered herself one of those women who wanted the romantic getaway and an unforgettable proposal. Daria had always been a practical person. Yet she had thought at the very least, happiness would zip around her heart. Instead, she felt nothing but emptiness.

“You’re joking, right?” she replied, her tone flat and emotionless and—she hoped—discouraging. “Why would I possibly agree?”

“Oh right. I don’t even have a ring!”

That should be the least of your worries
. She rolled her eyes. But before she could retort, Damien parted his hands like the shells of a clam and in his palm rested an open velvet box. Inside the box lay the biggest diamond she had ever seen in her life. It was a monster.

As Damien took out the ring and brought it to her, Daria backed away. She didn’t want that thing near her.

He dropped back down to one knee and stared up at her with the same puppy-dog eyes from before. “So will you marry me already?”

What kind of question was that? As if she took too long to put on her shoes and he grew impatient. Marriage was a big decision, at least for most people. Apparently Damien didn’t think so.

In spite of herself, a trite comment escaped from her mouth. “You don’t love me.”

The ring and box disappeared from his hand. Damien sighed and stood. The goofy smile and jesting eyes disappeared, making him appear much older and wiser than before.

“Humans want the words even if the actions don’t match. Love is just a word. It’s also a four-letter word. Actions are what matters. I want to marry you enough that I took you for myself.”

Her mind drifted to Jason. He had never said he loved her. He hadn’t mentioned anything about marriage, either. But he had said a lot of other things, such as how he’d wait for her and how he was hers. Those words didn’t proclaim love, but surely they meant something. He also had actions, per Damien’s requirement. Jason had saved her life many times now. He took care of her.

“And what if . . . it’s all action and no words?” she asked quietly.

Damien narrowed his eyes. “You’re thinking about someone else,” he accused like a jealous lover. “No thinking about anyone but me.”

She laughed at his petulant declaration and Damien smiled as well. “Pretty soon you might even come to like me.” He plopped down on the bed. “I’ve waited for you for five hundred years, you know. I missed my chance with the last auspicious one.”

Her ears perked up and goose bumps rose on her arm. The last auspicious one. Jason had said she was the first one to survive to adulthood in fifteen hundred years. The last one to survive was his mother. Yet every five hundred years, another auspicious one was born.

She wasn’t sure if she should encourage this line of conversation but curiosity ate away at her. If she could find out more about the last auspicious one, maybe she could find a way out of her supernatural predicament.

“What happened to her?” she asked slowly. Though she asked, she knew the answer. Obviously the last auspicious one was killed.

“I was just a young demon when the last auspicious one was alive,” he answered with a shrug. “Lovely girl.” Damien’s eyes took on a far away look as he peered into the past. “Demons came for her the night she and Jason had planned to escape.”

Goose bumps rose on her arms. Jason. He had planned to escape with this girl from five hundred years ago. The words repeated themselves in her head. They were going to leave together.
This girl and Jason. Escape.

The back of her eyeballs stung. She blinked and squeezed her eyes shut briefly, but they still hurt. So did her skin. It prickled, stretching tightly over her face. Yet nothing throbbed as much as her heart. It felt as if someone sat on her, hanging heavy from an invisible weight pressing downward, making her want to bow over and cry.

Had he wanted to protect that woman forever? Had he said the same words? She tried to swallow but found her mouth had gone dry and her throat had clogged.

She wasn’t stupid enough to think he hadn’t liked other women. She was sure he had. But something about his promises made her think she was special. Bile rose. How stupid. What a fool she’d been. The only thing special about her was her birthday.

“Then what happened?” Her mouth seemed to move mechanically on its own, oblivious to the ache in her heart. The fragile thing had begun to crack. She could hear it. Should it shatter into too many pieces, she wouldn’t be able to put it back together again.

Damien shrugged a bear of a shoulder. “They killed her.”

“And Jason?”

Damien narrowed his black eyes at her and stood with a menacing air. He leaned in close and hissed, “He’s gotten to you already, hasn’t he?” He straightened and frustration lined his brow. “Did he propose again?”

“No,” she whispered, staring out into space, her eyes losing focus.

Again
. So Jason had planned to marry that girl. Daria had no doubt he loved her. Loved her so much he was going to take her away from the chaos. What a joke. He would have escaped with that girl but with her, he’d just act like a bodyguard at her condo.

She’d made a fool out of herself thinking she meant anything to him, thinking she could find love with a man who was nothing more than hired help. Daria stared up at the ceiling, blinking back unshed tears of self-pity. Well, it could be worse. She could have really fallen in love with the guy. Her heart lurched at the thought.

The demon let out a loud breath of relief and grinned at her, showing off beautiful, big, white teeth. “He was just protecting you, right? Well don’t worry about that stuff. I’ll keep you safe.” He patted his thick chest.

She shifted her eyes to him, now towering over her and everything else in the room. He was certainly a manly man. Damien made pro-wrestlers look prissy. She had no doubt he had the ability to keep her safe. She could do worse.

But she wished he weren’t so large. If he were leaner, then they wouldn’t make such an odd looking couple. Yes, that was it. He was too swarthy for her. Too pushy. She preferred someone gentler and caring. Someone who looked like he worked out at the gym but wasn’t on steroids. Someone cut like an athlete.

Like Jason
.

Another crack split down her heart. She had to stop thinking like that. As if to mock her resolve, a final sharp pain pierced her that she recognized as jealousy. Great, now she was jealous of some dead girl.

Damien shoved his face an inch from hers and scrutinized her. “You’ve fallen for him, haven’t you?” She didn’t have time to deny it as a wry smile graced his lips. Then he turned away, muttering under his breath about falling in love too easily while taking long strides to the door.

“I’m off. I have work to do for my foundation. You sit tight until we’re married.”

“Hey!” She ran after him, but the bedroom door shut in her face. A jiggle of the doorknob and she knew she’d been locked in. Daria pressed one foot against the door while her hands gripped the knob. But try as she might, she couldn’t open the door.

Determined to leave, she pulled out the chair and slammed it against the door. The wooden chair broke, but the door remained intact. She turned to the window with narrowed eyes. Grabbing a book off the shelf, she threw it against the window. But the glass didn’t even show a scratch.

She tried other objects but the results always remained the same. Magic or demonic power imprisoned her. Everything inside broke, but the walls stayed strong and unyielding.

Shoulders slumped in defeat, Daria trudged to her bed and fell face forward, arms and legs splayed like a snow angel. She didn’t know whether to laugh at Damien or cry over Jason. Damien seemed harmless enough for the moment. He hadn’t really done anything except lock her up. She flipped around and brushed the hair away from her face.

Maybe Jason will come for me.

She frowned at the thought. He probably didn’t even know she had disappeared. And did she really want him to come? After everything she’d learned?

Suddenly, she thought of Miller. He knew. Maybe he would tell Jason. He had seen Damien take her away but hadn’t been able to stop the demon. So, what was Miller?