Demonosity (26 page)

“A
re you kidding me with this?” Nash asked in a stern voice three days later as Cassidy chewed her lip and held up an apricot T-shirt and her favorite old lace blouse. “You made one of the most philosophically important decisions in the world, and now you can’t decide which top you should wear?” Then he shot her a soft smile. “So has he forgiven you yet?”

“No. Of course not.” Cassidy shook her head while suddenly wondering if a dress would be better. “He is pissed like you would not believe. All he keeps saying is that he doesn’t belong here and that I should never have brought him forward in time. But the thing is that I didn’t mean to bring him forward in time. I just hoped he would be happy, and then the Black Rose did the rest.”

“He’s probably just feeling testy because he’s spent his life following his duty and protecting the Black Rose, and now that it has been released, he’s lost,” Nash suggested. “Just give him time. I’m sure he’ll come around once he finds a new destiny.”

“I hope you’re right,” Cassidy said as she picked up the first top again and studied it in the mirror before discarding it. Thomas wasn’t the only one who was struggling to get used to what had happened. They had discovered that as well as healing, the Black Rose could also punish, and according to the Brotherhood, Travis was now back in the year 1310. They also said that his horrific wounds were healed, but Cassidy had the feeling that his anger wouldn’t be nearly so easily cured. Nor would his sense of injustice. For a moment she longed to be able to see him and explain, but she knew it wasn’t possible. The Black Rose had sent him back there for a reason, and she just had to accept it.

Also, as her mom had taught her, every decision had a consequence, and despite how much she cared for Travis and could see how broken he was, she knew that he had crossed a line—a blood line—and he couldn’t be saved from it.

“Anyway.” Nash unfolded his long legs, smoothed out his tuxedo trousers, and adjusted his long jacket. “It’s Christmas Eve, and my parents have decided that my presence is required since they haven’t seen much of me lately. Personally, I find their sentimental attachment to traditional holidays a bit smothering, but I’d better play nice. Will you be okay if I leave you with this monstrous decision?”

“Yes, Nash. I think I will manage.” Cassidy walked him down the hallway. Once he was gone she wandered into the living room where her dad was sitting, his knee elevated and his navy eyes twinkling. The doctors still hadn’t been able to discover why he had recovered the way he had and had suggested that he stay on medication for the rest of his life, but Cassidy secretly knew that he didn’t need it.

“Why are you smiling so much?” her dad wanted to know as she sat down on the floor beside the couch and began to fiddle with the resistance band that he used for his knee exercises. “Do you think it will make me go easy on this fellow of yours?”

“You’d better,” she warned. “Because meeting parents isn’t his specialty, and this could scar him for life.”

“How many other parents do you think he intends to meet?” her dad pondered before grinning. “And don’t worry, I’ll be nice. Actually, I even think your mom will, too. She’s out in the kitchen attempting to make cookies to impress him.”

“Mom’s baking?” Cassidy lifted an eyebrow.

“Well, she’s trying to. And thanks for going easy on her. I’ve never seen her so happy.”

“I think that probably has something to do with the fact that you’re no longer in a coma,” Cassidy said before her lip began to wobble. “I am, too. It was pretty scary.”

Her dad’s grin faded, and he put a hand on her shoulder. “For all of us. And you know what was really strange? I don’t remember much, but I do remember that tattoo you got me. For a moment it felt like it was still on my arm and I could feel it tingling. Actually, I’ve even been thinking that when I’m back up and moving, I might go and get a real one in the same design. To remind me always to have hope.”

“I think that’s a great idea,” Cassidy said as she traced the space on her arm where her own tattoo had been. It had disappeared the night she had freed the Black Rose, and she was already missing it. “Maybe I’ll get one, too.”

“Not on my watch you won’t,” her dad growled, and Cassidy grinned. It had been worth a try, and she was just about to see if she could at least get a visit to the vintage shop out of the deal when she caught sight of an owl sitting on the branch outside. She jumped to her feet.

The owl was no longer possessed by the spirit of a medieval demon knight, but once again just a regular bird who had taken to following Thomas around wherever it could.

“He’s here.”

“Now you’ve become a psychic?” her dad queried just as the doorbell rang. He nodded his head. “Okay, so you
have
become a psychic. Well, I guess you’d better go and let him in.”

Cassidy didn’t need to be asked twice, and she raced down the hallway and opened the door to see Thomas awkwardly standing there.

He was wearing the jeans that Nash had helped him buy and pulling at the woolen sweater that was covering his broad, corded muscles and chest. His red scar looked sore and angry, but the rest of his face almost looked nervous. Then Cassidy grinned as she drank in the sight of him. Besides, he had every right to be nervous. It was Christmas Eve, and he was about to meet her parents.

“Hey,” she said, but instead of answering her, he just reached out and entwined his fingers in hers before kissing her. Deeply, passionately, and enough to make her toes curl up in her Dr. Martens. Finally, he pulled away and shook his head.

“Cassidy, this is a bad idea. I cannot meet your parents. They will want to know what I can offer you, and I have nothing. The Brotherhood doesn’t pay us. It’s something we do for—”

“Duty?” Cassidy guessed as she wrapped her arms around his waist and shivered at the feel of his hard, coiled body. Then, after kissing him some more, she peered up at him. “Thomas, you once told me that you trusted me.”

“I do.” He nodded, and Cassidy felt her heart melt.

“Well, trust me when I tell you that as long as you don’t mention swords, prophecies, demon knights, and magical essences that offer eternal life to any who inhale them, then I promise you’ll be just fine. Do you think you can do that?”

For a moment he paused and kissed her again. Then he looked at her and grinned.
“Oui,”
he said. “I can do that.”

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