Flame Unleashed (Hell to Pay) (11 page)

True, he was angling to get Ruth’s help with his plan to destroy Jerahmeel, but with this hellish story, he didn’t need to fabricate his emotions. He’d lived the nightmare, and his torment was the only true weapon left to him to fight with, God rest his daughters’ beautiful souls.

She pushed her plate to the side. “You haven’t ruined anything. Thank you for sharing that story with me.” The intensity of her gold-flecked gaze swallowed him whole.

 “You’re too kind.”

After a pause, she said, “If I may ask, earlier today, at brunch, what did you mean about helping your progeny over the years?”

The sucking pain beneath his ribs lessened. “Ah, yes. So Vivienne’s second child indeed survived. My two grandchildren wanted for nothing in their lives. Vivienne’s husband remarried a nice woman who raised the girls as her own and added two more sons. Their home was merry and loud, exactly what I wanted for my grandchildren. Except I had no part in any of it.”

Emptiness poured into his belly like a pile of dry, lifeless sand.

She chewed her full lower lip. “Sad to say, I would never have thought to do that. What a wonderful gift you’ve given your family.”

Her shared sadness tugged at him in ways he refused to contemplate. If only he could pull those corners of her lovely mouth upward.

“I hope my family feels the support is a blessing. Becoming a kind of fairy godmother gave me a semblance of completion, of purpose, that the decisions I made years ago, however awful, led to benefit later generations.”

“You were a good father. You’ve managed to find something positive to accomplish with your eternal contract. I can’t say I’ve done the same.”

“Well, that may be true, but I’m finished with this existence. I’ve sacrificed too much. Being the family ghost no longer satisfies. Not if I have to kill mortals on a regular basis. I’m indebted to an evil creature that harvests power from human souls. No matter how much I try to compensate with good deeds, I cannot make up for my sins. I hate this life.”

“Understandable, but what can you do? And don’t give me this wild idea of climbing into a mountain and storming the lair.”

He gulped down more wine. “No other options exist; believe me, I have searched. Besides watching over my family, my only other hobby for the past 260 years has been researching everything there is to know about destroying Jerahmeel. I’ve been through all manner of ancient texts and firsthand accounts. I have the information needed to bring him down, if only I have the right help.”

• • •

Freezing beneath his dark scrutiny, Ruth said, “I’m not the right person to fight him.”

“You are the perfect person. Can’t you see why he must be stopped? How many more horrible decisions do we have to make about our loved ones?”

Her heart stopped. Ice flooded her veins. “Wait. You told me that story to play on my sympathies? To get me to join you?”

“
Non
,
chère
.” He extended his large hand, palm up.

She stood up, her chair ricocheting against the wall. “The hell you didn’t!” Shame crawled up her neck as patrons looked up at her. Damn, she hated public scenes. All she wanted to do was cover herself with another costume or wig. Anything to help her disappear.

God, she was such an idiot. Drop the pretenses and enjoy his company? Put away the old Ruth, the woman who couldn’t trust anyone, even herself. Just enjoy the evening?

So, how did that work out?

Lesson learned.

Clack, clack, clack
. Like a ratchet pulling chains, she sensed her walls coming back up.

Secured. Protected. Isolated.

“I wanted you to know my history.” He looked at the floor.

Her tinny laugh, on the edge of hysteria, rang false to her own ears. “You manipulated me. And to think I almost bought the tall tale.”

Only an idiot would believe the sincerity glowing in those glass-green eyes, and damn it if she didn’t waver again.

Stupid. When would history stop repeating itself?

“The story is true,
chère
. Please sit, and let’s finish our meal.”

She wadded up the linen next to the china plate. “Dinner’s over, Odie.” Ignoring the moues of disapproval from lingering customers, she turned on her heel and stormed out of the restaurant.

How naive could she be, nearly falling for his cock and bull story? Falling for the man? Even now, part of her still wanted to pretend that he didn’t try to manipulate her, that the attraction was mutual and sincere.

Fingernails cut into her palms, she clenched her fists so tightly. No need to mince words: she’d been used by a handsome man. Again. Just like with her husband years ago. After 150 years, wouldn’t she learn by now?

Damn and double damn, she should’ve known that Barnaby spilling her secret about Jerahmeel’s unnatural interest would lead to trouble.

She’d become the best secret weapon for the worst laid plans imagined since the beginning of time.

Which hurt more: the fact that she believed there was a flicker of hope the curse could be broken or that she’d almost fallen for a winsome face who only wanted her for his insane scheme?

Odie caught up to her a block from the restaurant, his hair askew from running. Of course, he wasn’t winded.

He gripped her upper arm. “Please,
chère
, listen—”

Cutting him off with a slice of her hand, she pivoted out of his grasp. It was like her husband’s ultimate betrayal had happened all over again. The scab had not yet healed, and here was Odie, pulling it off to expose the fiery nerves beneath.

“Look, you had your fun. You tried pressuring me, and you tried rescuing me. Then you worked the sympathy angle. Congratulations, sir, you nearly had me, but as they say, I wasn’t born yesterday. Far from it.”

She walked again, preternaturally fast, but he kept pace, a large, silent figure at her side. For a moment, she indulged in a fantasy of Odie as her protector. For a moment, she flirted with the idea of letting her guard down and allowing him to be vigilant for the both of them, to cede control and finally relax.

But that required trust. In herself and in him. She had neither.

“I only wanted you to see the truth,
chère
.”

If only his velvet voice didn’t slide past her defenses. If only the hurt on his handsome face didn’t appear so sincere, she might believe him. Might. But not this evening. Not ever.

“I see the truth, right in front of me, and it comes in the form of a charlatan.”

“No. My desire to destroy Jerahmeel is real.”

She hissed at the name and chanced a look around the dark streets, then took off again.

Odie swung his muscled arms as he matched her rapid strides. “The history, my two beautiful daughters, my wife—it’s all true. Not a word is made up.”

“You’re telling that story to
use
me, though.”

“I wanted you to know how I became Indebted. And I also believed that you have the same goals as I do.”

“Well, I don’t. And I don’t plan to join your project any time soon. If you’ll excuse me.”

They arrived at the hotel where the marquis lights cast a too-bright yellow glow over the sidewalk. A few late-night patrons strolled through the doors, probably ready to lay their heads on the bed and sleep until morning, a very mortal human activity and one that she could never truly appreciate in her Indebted form.

He caught her arm in a firm grip that sent traitorous shivers into her neck. “I’ll walk you up.”

It wasn’t a question.

Her breath caught. Her emotions switched from reverse to fast-forward.

Normally, she didn’t respond to the caveman act, but frankly, she was weary of public scenes, of refusals, of conflict. A mutinous quiver of excitement flitted in her belly.

No. She refused to feel anything for this man. For any man. No more opportunities for betrayal.

Right?

He gestured toward the large glass doors, the hotel lights reflecting in his eyes. “So?”

Unexpected warmth crept up her face as she recalled their torrid kiss and those firm, passionate, demanding lips that tormented her earlier today. His offer held the promise of more than an escort, and God help her, that temptation replaced the anger she felt as he tried to coerce her into participating in his plan. But she hadn’t experienced anger—true anger—in such a long time. She’d forgotten how the adrenaline surged and created other feelings.

Now she experienced a different sensation. Was it the man or the heightened emotion that piqued her sudden wanton curiosity? How would it feel to have sex with someone who made her feel this mad, this excited, this fearful of deception? A coil of interest heated her lower belly.

Would the risk of experimentation be worth the pain of betrayal?

How much life had she missed—would she miss—by continuing to hide?

Propriety be damned, she wanted to spend more time in this man’s presence. She could enjoy physical intimacy without joining him in his lunatic scheme. She felt like a woman stepping off a cliff, one foot hovering over empty space.

Solid ground. Old Ruth.

Air beneath her other foot. New Ruth.

She could always send him away, right?

“Yes.”

During the excruciatingly slow elevator ride to the top floor, their steamy sideways glances thickened the tense air. Her body thrummed in tune with this man. His every sharp breath, his every movement, set her hypersensitive nerves on edge. He personified danger to her heart, to her soul, to the entire world.

And her cloistered heart trembled at the danger. Risk avoidance no longer mattered. She wanted pleasure for herself.

She startled at the elevator ding, and then preceded Odie down the hall. Sensing his gaze on her body, her skin prickled.

At the door, she slid the electronic card into the lock. Odie’s hand drifted down her lower back.

Hearing a muffled groan inside the suite, she froze. Another moan emanated from the within and panic flooded her mind. Meeting Odie’s horrified expression, she darted through the door and into the salon.

When she flipped on the lights, the scene crushed her.

Barnaby, in his favorite linen pajamas, lay crumpled on the floor, gasping for air, his arthritic hands clawing at his neck. The scent of rotten eggs permeated the room. Jerahmeel stood to the side, a laconic smile on his red mouth as he twirled a lock of oily hair around a smoking finger.

“Hello, my dear. You took much too long to return this evening. I had to entertain myself until you arrived.”

She drew back, right into the hard body of Odie, who wrapped his strong fingers around her upper arms. If he hadn’t supported her, she would have fallen to her knees. Or worse, flew at Jerahmeel.

“
Mon dieu
,” Odie whispered.

Barnaby’s chest heaved as he wheezed, and his eyes rolled back in his head. He needed help and fast, but Jerahmeel stood in her way with a satisfied smirk pasted on his twisted face.

 “Damn you! What have you done? Get away from him!” A piercing whistle, like that damned teakettle pressure sensation when her power erupted years ago, shot through her head.

For the second time in 150 years, rage consumed Ruth. She let loose her fury at the most deadly being on Earth.

And she didn’t care one bit.

At least the All Hellish One had the presence of mind to be taken aback.

Odie had never heard of a time when Jerahmeel was at an utter loss for words. Hopefully, Jerahmeel was at a loss for action as well, or Ruth, Barnaby, and Odie were at risk of immediate incineration.

Unfortunately, at some point, Jerahmeel would recover from the shock that his favorite employee, his precious, docile Ruth, had just laid into him. Jerahmeel’s pride would not tolerate the hatred pouring out of her trembling frame. Soon, the Lord of Evil would revert to his go-to emotion: cruel rage.

Mon dieu
, Odie would do what he could to make sure she wasn’t anywhere near the line of fire when Jerahmeel snapped. As Ruth stepped to one side, Odie shadowed her, watching Jerahmeel, ready to absorb brimstone if the Lord of
Merde
exacted his revenge.

She pulled away from Odie and crouched over Barnaby. The old man gasped a painful, wet, rattling inhalation. When she ran her hands over him, he opened his eyes and moved his mouth, but no words came out.

Tears streaming down her face, she screamed again at Jerahmeel. “What did you do?”

How had she projected her voice so loudly? Even the windows rattled.

“I didn’t touch him.” Jerahmeel smiled, those lizard thin lips compressing into nothing, his black stare reflecting nothing.

“Damn it, you didn’t touch those men a few hours ago, yet they’re dead. So let’s try again: What did you do?”

Odie cringed. He loved the vision of Ruth as an avenging angel, but she’d now pushed Jerahmeel far past what Odie had ever known his boss to tolerate. If she didn’t back down, they’d all be worse than dead very soon, and then there’d be no one to take care of Barnaby.

Jerahmeel rubbed his narrow chin, mouth twisted into a moue of disappointment. “My dear, when you were unwilling to accept my proposition this evening, it seemed that stronger motivation was in order. Clearly, your reluctance to join me could only be tied to your duty to this ... mortal. Therefore I removed your duty.”

“Removed?”

“You’re welcome, I’m certain.”

“Oh God. Barnaby?”

The elderly man’s chest heaved with each word. “Dear ... can’t breathe.”

“Odie, call 911. Barnaby needs medical help. We have to save him.”

“What?” Jerahmeel’s eyebrows rose. “I thought you’d be happy that I cleared the path for us to be together. Unencumbered.”

She rose and rounded on Jerahmeel, auburn hair tumbling over her shoulders, all glorious blazing rage, like a mother wolf about to take on a grizzly bear to protect her brood. Amazing. And so amazingly stupid. Odie lurched forward and pinned an arm around her as he pulled her away.

“
Chère
, this isn’t wise,” he said, willing her to hear him.

“Damn wise, I think.”

“You can’t win this round,” he whispered.