Eban (5 page)

“I'm sorry.” Tell took the book, then jerked his bolt out of it. “I know you were waiting to find a way to save her before you left, but I hope you'll think about staying. We need you here.”

“There's a lot more to the world than demons, curses and bloodlines, Tell. You could come with me.”

Tell's eyes were shiny, but it wasn't sadness. Flashes of red and green from the Pit obscured his blue irises. “Can't. Berner would be overrun in a matter of months.”

Eban drummed his fingers on his leg. “You know that for sure?”

“Unfortunately.”

He wouldn't be guilted into staying here. Not even if it meant saving the world. If he couldn't save one human, what was the point of trying to save any of them?

“I can't stay. Can't look either of them in the eyes when they get back. You don't understand.” He pushed hair away from his face. “The only thing I can do is leave, try to start again somewhere else. I don't want to watch Rosemar take Beryl. Don't want to watch Wys and Rhia building a life together.”

He pointed at the path to Berner. “What's going on right now is bullshit. Everyone thinks we're safe, we've sent Noem crawling back to Astaroth, the flowers are blooming and it's all perfect. It'll never be like that. There will never come a day when we can lay down our weapons without fear of being attacked.”

“You really believe that.” Tell looked away, his mouth tight.

“I know it.”

“Go home, Eb. There's no reason for you to sit out here. I've got it.” Tell shrugged his crossbow higher on his back. “You might as well start your goodbyes if that's how you feel. Much as you hate what you think Wys did, I hope you'll stick around until they get back.”

“It wouldn't be fair to leave you with all of Berner to protect.”

Tell snorted. “Don't worry about me. I was born for this.”

He tried ignoring the burn of guilt building in his stomach. The sad truth was, their father probably hadn't imagined leading his children down this road.

“I'm going for a walk when I get back. I'll keep an eye out for disturbances, but it's been quiet here.”

Tell's eyes were still lit by the Pit's glow. “Rosemar's walking too. Watch out for her.”

“She left the clinic?” Eban's hand tightened over the saber's hilt.

“Went to the saloon, had a drink, but she didn't cause any trouble. She said she was on her way back. You probably won't see her again tonight.”

He meant she'd allow Beryl to take over again. A shiver crept down Eban's spine. Tell thought they were better off without her, but Eban couldn't stomach the notion of putting her down like a stray dog.

“I'll talk to her.”

Tell lifted his chin, a sign that he didn't like it, but he'd accept it—for now. “Be careful.”

“You too.”

The saber banged against Eban's leg as he mounted his horse and turned it toward town. A dull throb formed between his eyes, rapping inside his skull each time the horse laid a hoof on the rocky ground. This was no kind of life, worrying about the next attack, the next malformed creature that would haul itself out of hellish depths to kill them. Or trading favors with princes of Hell to help someone who didn't know she'd die if he didn't.

A couple more days and he'd use what he'd learned from the
Ars Notoria
. Tell might believe the seals were breaking due to the events of the last several weeks, but it was foolish to think Astaroth wasn't doing everything he could to destroy them as well.

If Tell couldn't fix them, no one could. War was already nipping their heels. Beryl stood a real chance if he could persuade the angels to help. If the choice had been Wystan's, he knew Wys would take it.

Why shouldn't he?

Chapter Five

Beryl glanced up from her book into the schoolyard where her six charges were scattered across the lawn at recess. The boys, Thomas Jefferson and Howie, were playing on a seesaw that looked ready to collapse at any second. It was useless to ask Eban if he'd help her fix it. She wasn't good with tools and Eban less so. If it had required bandaging, they might be able to repair it, but it was a lost cause otherwise.

The girls—Sylvie, Mila, Mary and Nancy—were sitting beneath a newly leafed-out tree, giggling about something. Sylvie was the oldest, with a birthday next week. Right in time for Rhia and Wystan's arrival home. They were planning a party for her that included moving into their new house.

Her fingers hesitated on the page she'd been about to turn. What would it be like to take a honeymoon with a husband? To feel the excitement of moving house and starting a family.

You're worthless, ugly and dumb as a stump.

Her breath hitched as the male voice echoed inside her head. She closed the book and leaned back in her seat. A tremor shook her, but she couldn't explain why. She pressed her palms to her eyes while her mind raced.

Green beads scattered on the floor like discarded fish scales. The coppery taste of blood in her mouth. The flicker of lantern light reflecting the narrow window too small for her to escape through.

Girls like you end up in the alley!

The voice came back, sharper than before. Winding up in the alley meant one thing—death.

She clutched the sides of her head, willing the flashes of memory to stop. Whatever it was, it was long ago and she was safe now.

Darkness, gritty dirt beneath her cheek, the stench of urine and garbage. Pain in her head because someone had clubbed her from behind.

This is where you belong, Beryl. Back in the filth you came from.

She moaned, resting her forehead against the desk.

“Beryl?”

Startled, she sat up, meeting Sylvie's concerned gaze.

“Resting my eyes. What is it?” She managed a wobbly smile.

“Isn't it time to come inside?” Sylvie glanced at the brass bell on the desk.

Rhia had shined it until it gleamed, like she'd done with so many objects in the schoolroom. The desks were waxed regularly, the floors swept every evening and the chalkboard washed every other day. Beryl hugged herself. This place was too clean for someone like her. What business did she have teaching children, even if most of them were demon offspring?

She met Sylvie's gaze again. “You know what? I'm not feeling very well. I think it might be best to dismiss class for the day.”

Behind her glasses, Sylvie's brown eyes were wide as the Pit. “Okay. You want me to fetch Eban? Your skin's a funny gray color.”

Beryl didn't have any family that she knew of, but she loved Sylvie like a sister. The girl's concern wiped away some of her lingering fear.

“No, I'll go right to the clinic. You go on home with TJ and don't make Mrs. Yue worry about you, all right? Tell the others to go straight home too. I'm going to catch my breath.”

Sylvie hesitated. “You sure? It won't take me a minute to get him.”

“It's fine. Go on now.” She waved Sylvie away.

Once the footsteps faded and she heard the other children chattering, Beryl leaned back in the chair again. She closed her eyes for one second and then…

“Beryl. Wake up.”

She peered through her eyelashes at Eban. He knelt next to her, his face inches away. His blue eyes were dark and his brow wrinkled with concern.

“I fell asleep,” she said. “I sent the kids home early and—”

She shivered, recalling the voice in her mind.

He pressed the back of his hand against her forehead. “You should have come to the clinic.”

“I didn't plan to fall asleep. I'm fine now.”

Eban put his hands on her shoulders. “Let's go back to the clinic.”

He helped her up, then hooked his arm around her waist. She didn't feel lightheaded or ill. Confusion lingered over her, mingling with fear.

“Am I crazy, Eban?”

He looked at her, mouth turned down. “You're not crazy. Did you sleep well last night?”

She closed her eyes, trying to remember. “I don't think so.”

“That's the trouble. You're exhausted from worrying about keeping up with the classes and children.”

He sounded certain. He held her close, allowing her to soak in his steady warmth, providing comfort that helped her heart slow.

“I remembered something,” she whispered.

“What?”

How could she tell him? What if he hated her because of her past? True that he sometimes visited the saloon where the succubi bedded men for money, but that wasn't the same.

“A voice. It was a man's voice, but I don't know who he was.” Almost hoped she didn't remember any more about him.

“What did he say?”

“Nothing…important. It was a quick flash and then I fell asleep.” It rattled her, even with Eban at her side.

“Then it's beginning to come back. That's a start.” He gave her a thin smile. “I'm happy for you.”

She didn't believe that. Maybe because she couldn't summon any enthusiasm for what she'd recalled.

They walked back to the clinic in silence, although there were a few townsfolk conducting business or lingering on the boardwalk. They nodded or waved or shared greetings as Eban and Beryl passed by. Almost like it was a real town in any other part of the country. She didn't mind that her neighbors were odd-looking or had unusual habits.

She wasn't the icon of normalcy herself.

Eban got the door for her, ever the gentleman. “Do you want supper? You might feel better with something in your stomach.”

“I just want to curl into one of those big chairs in your study. There's nothing I'd like better.”

“I'll make tea. You're shaken up, I can see it.” He followed her to the study and watched while she sank into a chair. “Can I get you a blanket or a pillow?”

“I'll be fine. It was strange, but I don't think it's anything to worry about. You're right, because I didn't sleep well. I'm sure it won't happen again. Come sit with me for a while. Then we'll eat.” She nodded at the chair next to hers.

Eban sat with a soft groan. “I didn't sleep much last night either. Tell relieved me at the Pit around one. I can barely get him away from there. If he's not watching it, he's not satisfied that we're safe.”

“Do you think we are?” She'd been out there once to look around and if she never had to go back, she didn't feel she'd miss anything.

“We're still alive. It's good enough for me.”

He curled his hands and she knew he was fighting the urge to pick his cuticles.

“You're worried,” she accused.

“I'm not.”

“You are.”

He swept his hand over his hair. “Is there a reason I shouldn't be? Tell's on the warpath, Wystan's abandoned the town, the seals are breaking around the Pit, Seere's got a plan he won't share with the rest of us, and Astaroth is plotting horrible deaths for me and my brothers. No, I don't think Berner is safe.”

She slid off the chair cushion and kneeled in front of him. “Is there a safe place anywhere? Could you escape to a place where demons couldn't get you?”

He relaxed his hands. “I don't know. I think they're everywhere.”

“Then no one is safe.” She placed her hand over his. “What Wys and Tell are fighting for doesn't matter, does it?”

He leaned forward, putting his free hand beneath her chin. “I don't know the answer to that either. It seems hopeless, but I've been wrong before. Maybe Seere is right, all we need is true love to clear up this mess. He brought Rhia here for a reason.”

She swallowed. “Do you think so?”

Eban cupped her face. “He says he did, but I don't believe that either. Things are more complicated than Seere is telling us.”

“Maybe…” She straightened, stretching toward him. “Or not. Don't you believe love can change the world?”

He shifted, but didn't release her. “My parents would say it could.”

“Don't give up. I know you want to. I know you think Rhia made a mistake, but you can't give up on this town or on yourself. Running away will make everything worse.”

His shoulders slumped. “You're saying that because you've gotten used to living here with me. You're uncertain about what will happen if I go. I promise you'll be all right on your own. You have friends here. They'll protect you if you need it.”

“I thought you were my friend.”

He smiled. “You know I am.”

“Could we ever be anything more?” She hated asking, sure it was too soon. He was still so broken over Rhia, maybe he'd never recover. She was seven kinds of foolish for asking.

“Beryl.”

She met his gaze. “Never mind. I shouldn't have said that.”

“If I were to fall in love with another human, I'd hope she'd be like you. I'm afraid it's not in the cards now. Maybe never.” He lowered his eyes. “You'll find someone. Someone worthy of you. I might doubt everything else, but I know that.”

“What if my past won't let that happen? What if I did something that made me unworthy?” Glad he'd looked away, she didn't have to watch the realization dawn on his face. “The voice I remembered wasn't anyone who loved me.”

“Then who?” His shoulders were tense, his expression a little fierce.

“A man who owned a brothel.” She kept her gaze lowered. “I'm not as good as you think.”

“That's nonsense. You're kind and thoughtful. Maybe what you thought you heard was part of a dream.” He moved closer. “I don't believe you're capable of doing bad things. Making bad choices is part of being human. Or demon, but you're a good person.”

“It wasn't a dream,” she whispered. “It was a memory. Someone hated me enough to try and kill me.”

“There's nothing about you to hate.” His hands tightened on her shoulders. “Whatever happened is over.”

She worried it might be a situation like Rhia faced with Noem, but she had the feeling no one was looking for her. This was a chance to begin again, to be someone else. The one person she wanted to share it with had his own difficulties.

“You're right.” Though the threatening words lingered. “Who would come looking for me here?” Who would look for her anyway?

“If someone who loves you is out there, they'll find you.”

He sounded sincere and she almost believed him, except she'd be stupid to fool herself. Warmth darkened his eyes and they crinkled at the corners. Tension stretched between them.

“If you remembered a voice like the one I heard, you wouldn't think so.”

Eban didn't answer. He pulled his hand away from hers and stroked her hair. She rested her cheek against his knee. He smelled of leather, shoe polish and mint. Homey scents that she'd come to love in the past few weeks. He was close in body, but so far away in spirit that Beryl's heart ached. She wanted to curl on his lap and let the sounds of his heartbeat and breath carry her worries away.

Without Eban, she had no one. Stifling the urge to cry, Beryl rose.

“I'm sorry,” he said.

“You don't have anything to be sorry about. I just hate losing a good friend. I'm going to fix supper now.”

Cooking would keep her mind off trouble and Eban had it written all over him. Her skin prickled—a cross between annoyance and anticipation.

He nodded. “I'm not hungry. I have some research I'd like to do.”

She hesitated near the door. Frustration made her shake. Why couldn't he understand there was nothing she wanted more than him? She had no one else to depend on and if he'd listen to reason, he'd realize they were meant to be together.

Tell him how you feel,
a sharp voice whispered.
Better the demon you see than the ones you don't.

Beryl moistened her lips with her tongue. “Eban?”

“Yes?”

“You'll find love. When you do, you won't remember how badly you hurt now. It'll hit you right in the face, plain and obvious. I hope you'll grab it before it flees.”

He offered a sad smile. “Picking up on Tell's fortunetelling tricks?”

“Love changes things.” She wasn't sure why it popped out, or why she felt so strongly about it, only that Eban needed to know. Worse, she wanted to show him, claim him, knock it into his head that they should be together. Beryl balled her hands into fists, fighting to remain where she stood. “Trust me. It's time to heal.”

He sat still for a moment, his expression distant. When he stood, he moved so fast, Beryl had a hard time following him. Demon blood gave him grace and speed she couldn't comprehend. One moment he was in the chair, the next she had her back against the wall and Eban was pressed against her. His hair was mussed, his forearms tense on either side of her head as he leaned on the wall.

“You want to see if anything changes?” His voice was low and husky. “You're a dog with a bone, Beryl, and you're not giving up until you find out.”

She stared at him, surprised by his actions. Was it a test? Did he expect her to shrink away in fear? Whether he guessed it or not, she had more starch than that. Lifting her hands, she put one on either side of his face. He didn't look angry. A challenging sparkle lit his eyes, along with the faintest hint of red in his irises. Nothing Eban did frightened her. He was her hero, her knight with a saber. The tremor in her hands wasn't fear.

“Yes, I want to know.”

The words were barely past her lips when his mouth claimed her. He nipped her lower lip, pulling them apart, sliding his tongue between her teeth. A startled jolt raced through her. Beryl flattened her breasts against him, tracing her fingers over his ears, holding him close. Her body warmed, legs going soft as melted wax, but her core burned for him.