Broken Heart 06 Come Hell or High Water (10 page)

"You didn't," I said softly.

"I did," he argued. "Look at what I did to you."

"A lesser evil to prevent a bigger one," I said. Or so I assumed. And I was doing a lot of assuming.
Oh, Phoebe. You a sucka.

His eyebrows went up, a half expression of surprise.

"You told Lilith you wouldn't release her from her hell-bond. She's stuck in the Pit and she wants to get out."

"She must never get out." He sighed. "But she is not just trying to free herself. She's trying to prevent Astria's prophecy from coming true."

"Maybe she should have a chat with Koschei, Durga, and Lia," I said, naming the Ancients who'd tried to circumvent another Vedere prophecy - the one that said the Ancients would cease to rule their own kind and that a Turn-blood named Patricia would become queen of vampires and lycanthropes.

Guess who was wearing the crown? And guess who was either banned or dead?

"So this prophecy... ?"

"It'd be better if Astria told the tale. 'Tis her prophecy."

"All right." I paused. "I'm from the Family Durga, so I have demon mojo. Does being evil make me stronger, too?"

"No!" He sucked in a breath. "No, Phoebe. Your aura is pure."

"You can see my aura?" I knew some of the Wiccans could see auras, and so could my friend Libby, but as I've said before, she was half dragon and one of their abilities was seeing auras.

"Most demons can, even a half-breed. You are innocent, Phoebe."

He thought I was innocent? When did the sins start to show up? I chewed on my bottom lip. "How bad do you have to be to get an icky aura?"

"Very, very bad," assured Connor.

I felt a little better about myself. Just a little, though. I was feeling impatient, restless. My options were to wait for Connor to get well, which would take forever and cause him agony every minute of the day or two it would take to heal. Or... or I could do something to speed up the process.

Connor sat with his head bowed. He was breathing erratically, and his skin was slick with sweat. I knew he couldn't die, but he could suffer. I wondered how bad it would get before his eyes started to grow back. And when they did, would he be able to see right away?

"Take me to Nera," I said. "I'll bargain with her. Maybe we can get your eyes back or get some new ones."

"I willna let ye bargain with that demon bitch!" He ripped his hand away from mine and slammed his fist against the rock-strewn floor. "Ye've been harmed enough in my schemes. Just leave me be, lass!"

Wow. Overreact much?

"Oh, sure. I'll just sit here and be quiet." I punched him in the shoulder and he grunted. "Jerk."

"I willna harm you, Phoebe."

"I didn't tell you to - " Wait. He said acts of evil made him stronger, would help him heal faster. Acts against innocents would probably be like an uber-dose or something.

An idea formed. Before I lost my nerve, I sat on his lap, my legs on either side of his. The move surprised him. For all of two seconds. His hands cupped my hips and he pulled me forward, settling me against his crotch. Blind as a drunk mole, still he unerringly touched me as if he'd done it a thousand times. Instead of just a night's worth. I hated the way I wanted him. How I would make love to him... if I were desperate and stupid and gullible.

"I dinnae believe havin' sex will heal me." He sighed dramatically. "But o' course, I'm willin' to try."

His brogue had gotten heavier with each word. That accent was oh-baby sexy. I steeled my resolve and glared at him. (Not effective on a blind man, but it made me feel better.)

"Connor, would having sex with me be an act of evil?"

"Aye," he whispered. "Especially if I lied so that I could mate with you, and if I chained you to a man you dinnae want." His hand drifted up and his calloused fingers drifted across my jaw. "I'd do it again, too." His hand dove into my hair and he gripped it until my scalp tingled with pain. His lips curved into a cruel smile. "It gives me pleasure to break your heart, Phoebe."

I stared at him, hurt churning in my stomach. I felt like I swallowed jagged bits of glass and they were slicing me from the inside out. Was this the evil part? I figured it would take a little more than a few barbed taunts to help Connor grow back eyeballs. I lifted my hand to peek under the bandage, and Connor slapped it away.

"Stop!" he said, exasperated. "I dinnae want you lookin' at my sockets."

Ew.

"It's not working, is it?" I asked. Oh.
Lightbulb.
I leaned forward and whispered in his ear, "It's not working because you don't mean it."

He didn't bother to utter a denial. Instead, his lips brushed my neck and a shiver of pleasure danced down my spine.

"So, then, no sex?" he asked.

"No sex."

"Ouch." He flinched. "Now, that's evil."

"You big baby."

He grinned. I didn't know who sucked worse: Connor at being a demon or me at being a victim. What had he said about the doorways to evil?
Violence, fighting, rage.

"I have a better idea," I said. No more messing around. I was ready to implement my plan. Sorta.

"I canna wait to hear this."

I ignored his sarcasm, straightened up, and stuck out my jaw. "Hit me."

"I can take it. I'm a vampire. Go on. Do some violence."

Connor snickered.

"What's wrong?" I asked. "Afraid?"

"Immensely."

Well, poo. I hadn't expected him to answer honestly. Where was the big male ego that could be drop-kicked with a few choice insults?

It wasn't like I didn't understand the concept of penance. I always felt as though I'd never pay enough for failing my mother. I knew her suicide wasn't my fault, but lurking guilt often flayed me. What if I'd stayed with her in Broken Heart? Would she still be alive? I would regret always that I could never look her in the eyes and tell her that I believed her.
Demons are real, Momma. You were right.
What might've happened if someone had just had some faith in her?

As much I wished I could change it, I couldn't help Momma. But I could help Connor. If he'd let me.

"You have to punch me in the face," I said. "C'mon, you... you goat fucker! Hit me!"

Rusty chuckles escaped.

"What?" I asked, trying to pitch my voice into the meanest tone ever. "You like fucking goats?"

His laughter spilled out, sounding like the un-oiled hinges of an old gate. He pressed a palm against his stomach. "Stop, lass. It hurts."

"I'm not trying to be funny, stupidhead!"

He laughed harder.

"You suck."

I considered my next course of action. More anxiety scrambled through me as I realized what I had to do. I gathered my courage, raised my hand, and...
smack!

His neck cracked and his cheek welted. Lilith's scratches hadn't healed entirely, and now I'd wounded the other side. I was a terrible, terrible person.

Connor rubbed his cheek. "Ow."

"Argh! How am I supposed to help you?" I stared at his battered face, my heart hurting for him. I hated to see him like this. Stubborn demon. "Are you really going to try to find the talisman without eyeballs? You kinda need them."

"Just let me heal."

"And what am I supposed to do while you're regrowing eyeballs, huh?"

"Go to Jennifer's and wait. She's verra en tertaining."

"You know, Connor, your sister scares me a little."

He laughed. "I'd tell you she's not dangerous, but she's a demon. She doesn't always mean to cause destruction, though. She's trying to learn how to be good."

"Oh? How's that working out?"

"She's stopped imploding people who anger her," he said.

"Well," I said, "that is progress."

He laughed again. I offered a weak smile he couldn't see, but I was thinking,
Implode people? Holy shit! Note to self: Never piss off Jennifer.

"Why don't we both go to your sister 's?"

"I can't heal properly there."

"But you can heal
here
?"

"No more than I deserve, lass. I dinnae need comfort. Just time."

We sat in gloomy silence while I tried to think of another tactic. I gnawed on my lower lip. I didn't want to go back to Jennifer 's by myself, but I didn't want to stay here, either. It was creepy, dark, and smelled like ass. I knew Connor wouldn't zap me to Broken Heart. I had nowhere else to go and no way to get there.

I figured my only viable option was to get the man healed already.

"You sure you don't want to hit me?"

He turned his head toward me. The sight of his grimy bandage ate away at me like the poison he'd saved me from. "Mayhap there is a way I might do as you ask."

"Really?" I perked up. "What?"

He hesitated. "I think I might be able to overcome my aversion to hittin' you if I... spank you."

"What?"

"I knew it was a bad idea."

"No," I said, putting my hands on his shoulders. "Let's try it."

Connor shook his head. "I canna ask you to shimmy off your shorts and let me paddle you."

A spanking would be loads better than getting punched in the face. And if it would -

"Take off my shorts?"

"We must take this endeavor to its meanest levels," he said gravely. "Flesh to flesh. Unless you think we can find a flail or a mace?"

I gauged his words. "I guess we could find a tree branch or something."

His lips twitched. I knew it! He was messing with me.

"You asshole!" I shoved myself off his lap and started pacing.

"I'm only tryin' to help you help me," he said in such an earnest tone I kicked him in the ankle. He yelped. "You're not verra nice to a blind man."

I blew him a raspberry.

Well, he might've made the suggestion to be asinine, but it still wasn't a bad idea. I marched over to him and knelt, then lay flat against his muscular thighs.
Ha. Take that, Connor.

He said nothing for a long moment.

"You... um, really want me to... er, spank you?" He sounded choked.

"Would you rather give me a right hook?"

"Fine," he said in an unenthusiastic voice. "I'll give you a swat."

"Swear you'll be evil?"

"I cross my black, cold heart." He made an
X
over his chest.

Then he tugged my shorts and panties down, exposing my buttocks.

"Hey!"

"I crossed my heart," he said solemnly. "I canna renege on my promise."

His palm coasted down one buttock. The light touch sent oh-happy-day ripples to my girly bits.

"S-stop."

"You dinnae want me to do this?" He streaked his fingers over the other buttock.

"No!"

"Hmmm. 'Tis strange, lass," he said, plumping my buttocks. "But I'm not feelin' any better." His palm skimmed up my back, his fingertips resting on my spine. I wasn't wearing a bra, mostly because I didn't think I'd be yanked out of my own house right after stumbling outta bed. "Mayhap you're enjoyin' this."

I wanted to deny it, but my protest came out as, "Oooh."

He stroked the skin of my back.

I will not enjoy his touch. I will not enjoy his touch. I will not -

"You like it." I heard the grin in his voice. "How can I heal if you won't cooperate? At least try to be offended."