Firefight in Darkness (23 page)

“I’m not her.” She repeated quietly, more to herself than to him. She needed to believe it, needed to push herself away from everything she’d felt when she had held the heirlooms in her hands and stared at the woman in the photo who looked identical to herself. She wasn’t Bristol, she was Blythe, and nothing Dante said or did or gave her would change that.

Without even realizing it, her hand had come up to join his at her cheek. She felt better having him there, knowing he understood her. It amazed her, frightened her, and humbled her all at once.

Her cheek was smooth beneath his hand, the flush anguish and rage had given her skin fading as she calmed. Her lips were parted just slightly, and he damned himself for looking at them and wanting nothing more than to kiss her, to lose himself in the flames until nothing was left. He nearly gave in to the want, until reality caught up with him.

Rian cleared his throat, shocking them both out of the moment. They jolted apart guiltily, with Jax sitting back and lifting his beer for a generous swig and Blythe taking a deep, shuddering breath.

“Blythe, let’s run to the ladies room.” Capri said suddenly, rising to pull Blythe to her feet.

“Alright.” Blythe said numbly, not even glancing back at the table as Capri led her towards the back of the restaurant where the restrooms were. She pushed open the door and held it open for Blythe. Capri then checked the stalls to be sure they were alone before rounding on her friend, excitement in her eyes.

“There
is
something going on between you two, isn’t there?” She said giddily, gripping Blythe’s shoulders in her hands.

“What?” Blythe managed, shaking her head automatically. “No, no there’s nothing between us, Capri, just let it go.” She scowled down at the ground, worried she’d betray herself if she gave in to Capri’s persistence.

“Don’t lie to me, Blythe, I can tell.” And because she could also tell her friend was troubled, she reached out to gently tip Blythe’s chin up until their eyes met. Capri’s were soft with understanding. “I’m sorry this hurts you…I’m sorry that Dante gets under your skin like this, and that I can’t do anything to help you. But you’re strong, Blythe, the strongest person I know. If anyone can get through all the emotional trauma you’re going through right now, it’s you. And as for Jax…” She paused, unable to hide her smile as Blythe’s eyes sharpened dangerously. “There’s sparks between the two of you. I noticed it from the very first moment I saw you looking at each other on Euphora. Can’t you feel it?”

“Damnit, of course I do.” Blythe huffed, shrugging away from Capri to pace, pain in her eyes. “But just because they’re there and just because I’m getting all emotionally sappy over him doesn’t mean it’s gonna go anywhere. We’re just too different, I should have never let him kiss me.”

“Oh, Blythe.” Pressing her hands to her chest, Capri sighed blissfully. “Was it romantic? The first time Rian and I kissed was so lovely…”

Blythe bit back a grin and eyed Capri. “He kissed me at a gas station in New Mexico. It wasn’t what you would deem ‘romantic’.” But because the memory of it had her wanting, she knew it had definitely meant something. And then there was El Paso…

“Well, still, I think you should pursue this. It’ll be good for you, I just know it.” Mind made up, Capri crossed to Blythe and hugged her. “Now c’mon, let’s go back out there and have a good time. We’ll worry about everything else tomorrow, okay?”

Pulling away, Blythe managed a grin. “Okay.”

♦ ♦ ♦

She awoke the next morning to the smell of freshly made coffee. Sniffing the air with her eyes closed, she rolled over onto her back and felt her lips curve into a smile. Stretching her arms over her head, she groaned and slowly opened her eyes, the sunlight just starting to glow through the window shades.

Turning her head, she spotted Jax sitting in the armchair by the television, wearing nothing but faded Levi’s. In his hands was a cup of coffee and that mornings edition of the New York Times.

“So what’s going on in the world today, cowboy?” She said sleepily, rubbing her eyes and sitting up. He glanced up at her as he sipped his coffee.

“Not much that would interest you.” Setting the paper aside, he focused his attention on her. “How did you sleep?”

“Like a rock, really.” She grinned, then rose to her feet to get herself coffee. As she padded across the room wearing nothing but an oversized t-shirt, Jax made sure to keep his gaze from traveling down to her slender legs. He watched as she loaded her coffee with sugar and creamer, and the satisfied smile on her face as she took the first sip.

“We’re meeting Rian and Capri downstairs for breakfast in an hour.” He rose to his feet, tossing the empty Styrofoam cup that had held his coffee in the trash beside the chair. “I’m gonna take a quick shower, run on down there to make some phone calls. I’ll see you at breakfast, okay?”

“Alright.” She watched him warily as he stepped towards her on his way to the bathroom, pausing in front of her. Her eyes held his, both aware and uncertain. Before she could speak, he patted her on the shoulder and walked past, shutting the bathroom door swiftly behind him. The smooth dismissal had her head reeling with all matter of confused emotions. Let it go, Blythe, she told herself. Let it go.

After Jax left to go make his phone calls, Blythe watched television for awhile, trying not to think. She took a shower, dabbed on a little bit of makeup and tried to do something with her hair. She still had ten minutes till she had to be downstairs for breakfast, so she took the time to look once again at Bristol’s picture.

She couldn’t have said why she suddenly felt like looking at it again, but something was drawing her to it. Maybe it was simply curiosity over who Bristol had been running from, and why. It seemed like this great mystery that was hanging over them, and she wondered if this was the truth Dante said he’d make her see in the end.

The end…God, she could only pray it was coming soon. Being on the road was wearing on her, and it was probably in her best interest to get home and break from Jax as soon as possible, before her feelings finally got the best of her.

She heard a soft knocking on the door, and rose to answer it, thinking maybe Jax had left his key card behind or something. Instead behind the door was a maid, her tidy black hair in plastered curls on her head and her dark eyes beady as they blinked at her.

“Housekeeping, I clean your room?” The woman said in a thick accent. Blythe smiled.

“Sure, whatever.” She stood aside to let the maid come in, wondering if she should leave. She supposed it wouldn’t hurt to get to breakfast a little early, that way she could raid the buffet first before the rest of the weekend crowd got there.

The photograph was still in her hands, and she noticed the woman stare down at it and smile.

Assuming the maid was only being polite, Blythe turned around to shove the photograph back into her duffle bag. She glanced over and saw the maid setting fresh towels carefully on the desk, which struck her as an odd place to put towels. She was about to make a comment, when the woman looked up at her, her lips curved in a strange grin.

“Was that a picture of your grandmother?” She asked, pausing in her cleaning to stare at Blythe.

“Uh, yeah, it was.” Brows furrowed, Blythe eyed the woman skeptically. “Why?”

“You look like her.”

“I guess.” Annoyed, Blythe started to step around the beds to leave the room, and the nosy maid. But the maid suddenly reached out with her hand and stopped her. Alarm bells went off in Blythe’s brain as the woman’s hand clamped on her arm and clenched down so tight it made Blythe wince. “What are you-“

She lost the words as the woman’s dark eyes seemed to melt in their sockets, thick black smoke oozing out of them. She began to shudder and tremble, but her hand remained in a deadlock on Blythe’s arm.

Darkness began to seep out of nostrils, ears, mouth, until it trailed down the woman’s body and pooled at the floor. On a desperate act of self defense, Blythe grabbed the woman’s wrist and released fire, burning the skin instantly. The hand released her as the maid slumped to the floor, unconscious, but as Blythe stepped back, poised to run, she turned to face the demon now curled on the floor of her hotel room, red eyes blazing.

She didn’t know why, or how, but she knew. There was just something even more sinister and even more evil about this demon that gave it away. And instead of fear she suddenly felt a rising rage boil up and consume her.

“Dante, you bastard.” She shot a fireball at him, only to watch it dissipate into nothing in the smoke. The snake swirled around and suddenly stretched out, slithering towards her sickeningly on the carpeted floor. As if it wasn’t bad enough, the sound he made as he rushed at her, backing her into the corner, was like a laugh. A wicked, vicious, blood chilling chuckling the seemed guttural and warped. Her heart froze in her chest, her mind momentarily stupefied as she suddenly found herself cornered. Then her lips curled in a snarl as she leapt forward and stomped on the dark, shadowy snake with her foot, unsure whether it would even do anything to him. She didn’t care, her rage was so consuming that she saw nothing but a haze of red, her mind blank to nothing but destroying him.

The maid suddenly awoke and, startled by the commotion, desperately crawled out of the room, muttering rapid prayers in frantic Spanish. Blythe barely even noticed her leave.

She heard a shrieking sound, and wasn’t sure if it was coming from her or him. When she bolted for her duffle bag, knowing her gun was tucked inside, she knew she had mere seconds before he had her.

She stumbled over the bed, her breath ragged and her mind singularly focused. Get the gun, get the gun. She came over the side of the bed and saw he had simply slithered beneath it, meeting her on the other side. He snapped up and bit her lower leg with surprising force and solidity, shocking her system with pain. With a growl, she kicked hard to shake him off of her, pleased when his jaws released and he landed some feet away.

She dug into her bag, her hand finding purchase on the gun. She whirled around, gun pointed, murder and vengeance in her eyes.

♦ ♦ ♦

“I don’t know what’s taking her so long.” Jax tapped his fingers restlessly against the table in the hotel restaurant, not even touching his food. Rian looked up at him, amused to see how fidgety his friend was about Blythe. Who knew the Reaper Man, as the demons lovingly referred to him as, would worry so much over the lateness of a woman.

“She’s probably putting on makeup or something.” He said, earning a headshake from Capri.

“No, Blythe doesn’t really wear makeup. And she’s usually very punctual.” There was worry in Capri’s voice too, which did nothing to help Jax’s agitation. If Capri was worried, then something had to be wrong.

“Blythe doesn’t miss breakfast.” Jax glanced around, hoping to see her bright smile and her shock of red hair strolling through the entrance of the restaurant. Instead he just saw an elderly couple and a few kids. “It’s been fifteen minutes since the buffet opened. She would want to get first dibs. I know her. Something’s wrong.”

“Maybe I should go check on her.” Capri started to stand up, only to have both Rian and Jax motion for her to sit back down.

“No, I’ll go.” Jax got to his feet and rushed out of the restaurant, hoping he was just overreacting. It was foolish, really, but he had this sick feeling in his gut that he couldn’t shake. Worry for her was driving him crazy.

She was probably just taking an extra long shower, or maybe lazing in front of the television. Maybe she’d lost track of the time or had fallen back asleep.

No, that didn’t sound like her, and he knew it. He jumped in the elevator, cursing every second the doors took to close. He punched the button for the fifth floor several times before the elevator finally began its ascent.

Tapping his foot, his arms crossed over his chest, he glared at his reflection in the mirrored doors. Lord, what the hell had come over him? She was just a girl, nothing more. She wasn’t even that pretty, or that interesting. Hell, she drove him crazy most of the time, and she had a vicious temper and rarely if ever acted like a lady. At least not like any ladies he had ever known.

But maybe that was just it. She wasn’t like anyone else he had ever known. She teased him for the hell of it, and had a throaty laugh that bounced off walls and filled a room. She was daring, brave, and ridiculously stubborn, a combination that he couldn’t help but admire.

And he was only lying to himself by pretending he didn’t think she was attractive. She was like hellfire that came at you with a swift punch to the gut, knocking a man senseless with desire with one lift of the eyebrow and a curve of those arrogant lips.

God, who was he kidding? He was crazy about her. And for that reason alone he burst out of the elevator when it reached the fifth floor, aiming to throttle her if she was tormenting him with her lateness on purpose. He stalked down the hallway towards their room, his key card out, prepared to duel it out with her. Yeah, that was good. He had some things to say to her anyway, and a fight was as good a place as any to start. She could say her peace, he’d say his, and then they’d decide where they stand.

He reached the door and paused, hearing noises inside that couldn’t be coming from the television. He heard something heavy thud against the floor, and a crash of glass paired with a scream. Fumbling to put the card in the slot, his breath quickened desperately as he fought his way into the room, shoving open the door, eyes wild.

He saw her on the floor, her leg torn and covered in blood, her hands clenched tightly around her pistol and pure, untamed wrath in her eyes. She was sitting up, her chest heaving, the mirror over the desk shattered to pieces on the floor. That was when he saw the dark shadow slither across the floor at an impossible speed before stopping and rearing up to face him. He knew, without even having to confirm it, who the demon was. There was just something infinitely more evil about him that resonated through the air. Dante glared up at him, eyes red and burning, before making his retreat.