I'll Be Damned (Anna Wolfe Series) (42 page)

"I'm sorry," I murmur. "I shouldn't have done that. I'm an idiot sometimes, allowing my feelings to get the best of me. It won't happen again, you can count on that," I say firmly.

He tries to hide his confusion, but traces of it break the surface. Valen and I will never be together, or at least that's what I'm telling myself from now on. After all, he's going to the ball with Brielle. Just thinking of her name makes me crinkle my nose in disgust. How much clearer can he make his non-existent feelings towards me? I groan quietly, resolving to stop pursuing what doesn't exist.

"Well, Anna, looks like you got yourself in trouble again. We can't let you out of our sight, can we?" Roman asks, walking towards us.

A clever grin on his face, I roll my eyes at his arrogance and impeccable timing. He always knows when to pop up in a conversation. He brushes his hands off as a look of repugnance crawls onto his face.

"It was a challenge not to kill him," he adds casually. "That coward tries to chat his way out of everything."

"Next time I see him, he's dead," Valen rumbles.

Roman sighs heavily. "You can't kill him. He needs to initiate the destruction of the Treaty. If we act rashly, it will be all of our heads," he declares.

Valen takes a step towards him. "I'm sick of the stupid Treaty! Micah’s been breaking rules since I got here. How much longer do we have sit here just waiting? One day, he's going to take her, Roman," he says pointing his finger at him indignantly. "You know it... imagine how difficult it will be to get her back."

"He'll never have that chance again... you understand," Roman retorts. "Mark my words, I won't allow him near her," he growls.

I blush at Roman's determination, and because I am the desired object between three men, all for different reasons. I've never been comfortable in the spotlight, and it's good to know it hasn't changed. What are the benefits of constant attention? After all, I'm not Cara. My thoughts flip over to my family. A string pulls at my heart thinking about them. I haven't heard from Janie in so long, I'm beginning to fear the worst. My parents are worried sick about me and I haven't been checking in enough to lessen their concern. I'm sick to my stomach with anxiety. I lean on Valen's car, feeling drained.

Roman looks at me. "Are you okay? You look pretty banged up."

"I'll be fine. I think my shoulder was dislocated, but it could have been worse," I say with a weak smile. It definitely could have been worse. I push that thought away, not wanting to borrow trouble. Luckily, the pain in my shoulder helps me forget. A ringing from Valen's pocket radiates through the quiet air as he fumbles to locate his phone. After studying the caller ID, he walks off to answer it. Roman comes over to me, gently placing his hands on my shoulder. He recites a few sentences in a different language as I stare at him, utterly perplexed. The pain transitions into a dull throb, allowing me to breathe easier.

"That's the best I can do," he says, looking disappointed.

I smile at him. "Roman, it's excellent. I can actually breathe, free of agony. Thank you."

I move my arm waiting to feel a sharp pain that never comes. I inhale deeply, trying to relax it. Valen walks over to us, reiterating the conversation he had with Martello and Kristy, who are both worried. He reassures them we're okay and promises to stop over later today. I glance at my watch, groaning at the time. Its two-thirty in the morning and the birds will be singing their upbeat melodies shortly. I slump further against the car, wishing it were more comfortable. If I could sleep standing up, I would've closed my eyes and set sail. The sound of keys jingling coax my eyes open. Valen presses a button on his keypad, unlocking his car. I crash into the backseat, dreaming before I have the chance to fall asleep.

J: Anna.... Anna can you hear me? It's Janie...Anna????

A: Janie?

J: Yes.

A: I've been trying to reach you forever. Are you okay? Where are you?

J: Anna, I can't talk long. I'm being held captive by Micah… he has me in a cell all day and night. I don't know where I am. Listen, you need to stay away from him, no matter what happens to me. He's going to take you. He wants you to use your powers and locate the Book of Imperium. You can't let this happen. If he finds that book, a lot of people will die, us included.

A: Janie, I won't give him the chance. Please tell me you're okay.

J: I'm fine.

A: Have you seen Nick? Is he there too?

J: I don't think he's here. He was supposed to disappear, hence the divorce cover-up.

A: Okay thank goodness... has Micah hurt you?

J: No. He leaves me alone most of the time.

A: You don't know how worried I've been. I couldn't reach you at all. I thought something happened to you.

J: He put some kind of shield spell on me, so I stole a crystal from one of the guards. Anna, please do what I say and avoid him at all costs, and please don't go to the ball.

A: When did you learn magic?

J: Anna, did you think I wouldn't be prepared? I studied some spells and demonology. I can't perform any, but I know what items have magic in them. Please... stay away from the ball, Anna.

A: Janie, I have to go. We have a feeling he might bring you there. It's necessary for our cause... we might be able to recruit others. If we can, we have a better chance of defeating him and Lucifer.

J: He doesn't care how many followers you accumulate. He has one objective and that's to find the Book... everything else is trivial; believe me.

A: Janie, do me a favor and don't worry about me. I'll be fine. Please just let me know you're okay whenever you can. I'm going to get you out of there

J: I will. Anna, I have to go, someone is coming. Love you, and be careful.

I flip my eyelids open and gaze out the window, watching the landscape pass by in beautiful distortion. Huh, similar to my life these past few weeks. Worry overwhelms me even though I know Janie is safe… for now. Janie’s wellbeing is critical and each minute that passes makes it harder for me to believe she'll remain that way. I need to figure something out quickly. My eyes switch between Roman and Valen. They are so dedicated and persistent in their pursuit of righteousness, and here I am complaining about how my normalcy was replaced with awesome magical powers. Selfishness is the easiest, and by far, the worst human characteristic. Neither Roman nor Valen will help me if it incurs the possibility of harm. They can be so overprotective sometimes, but who can blame them? They own a pretty piece of real estate in the land of the Netherworld. My cooperation and vital signs are the only glue holding together a broken treaty between good and evil. A treaty I never knew existed. Literally, when did the weight of the world fall on my shoulders? I’m not whining… well, not really.

I’m not entirely thrilled over all of the sacrifices I have to make, and must continue to make in order to keep evil out of my world. I’m exasperated at the endless pile-up of thoughts and questions. If I can rescue Janie from Micah, I’ll have the leverage I need to remain hidden until we can figure out our next move. If anything happens to her, I could never forgive myself. Right now, I need to make it through my birthday and the Netherworld Ball. The thought of the ball awakens something inside me. I’m going to a place where every magical being will be in attendance. I’m sure most of them will know me at this stage of the game. Micah has to be recruiting others for a ride on his tailcoats to glory. The chances of something bad happening is highly possible, I imagine. There must be demons who want me dead. I’m not a coward, but being crammed in a room with hundreds of unknown allegiances would scare even the toughest person. It’s always better to know your enemies, than chasing ghosts. The good news is I'll find out in less than two weeks. The bad news is I don’t know if I’ll be alive after that. I should probably visit my parents before, just in case. I create a list of tasks and conversations I need to address over the next couple of days. What starts out as a simple to-do list quickly resembles a verbal will. I shudder, firmly shaking off the fear of dying. It’s the least of my worries at the moment. I erase my mental list, concluding I’d rather wing it than make it tangible.

Questions about Brielle and her past with Valen bubble to the surface, but I don’t have the energy to Dr. Phil them right now. I tuck them away in the nether regions of my brain, promising myself I’ll address them after all of this is over. For right now, I’m writing him off. Fatigue continues to wrestle with me, attempting to pin me down. Thankfully, Valen makes a right into my driveway, slowly cruising towards the garage. Dirt whirls behind us, forming a dust cloud, and hiding the road briefly. My home stands poised and firm among the shadows of the night. Valen parks behind me, cutting his purring ignition. We unload in silence, grateful tonight is finally over. Inside, we exchange speedy goodnights and go our separate ways. I head upstairs as fast as I can, narrowly making it.

“Anna, can I talk to you for a minute?” Valen asks cautiously.

I sigh, not in the mood for an explanation. I’m too tired, damn it. “Valen, not tonight okay? I’m in a good amount of pain on top of being tired beyond belief.” I respond, continuing to climb the stairs.

“Anna, at least let me explain Brielle and the ball,” he mutters.

Something snaps inside of me. Feelings of jealousy, hurt, fatigue and disenchantment jumble together, creating one hell of an emotional bonfire. I stop dead in my tracks, whipping my body around, facing him with narrowly constricted eyes. “There’s nothing to explain. It’s crystal clear. You're going to the ball with Brielle. She’s your ex and some feelings still linger, hence the reason you would put up with such a bitch like her,” I stammer, my voice beginning to escalate as the fire rages inside me.

“I see Roman clued you in,” he responds, offended.

“Yes, he did and don’t blame him for being honest, unlike you!” I shoot back.

“It’s not like that with Brielle. We were together centuries ago, but nothing exists now.”

“Nothing exists now? I guess that explains why she's your date? Convenient how she just popped back into your life right now, unless she’s been hiding behind the scenes and you just neglected to mention it,” I respond sarcastically.

He doesn't refute it. My heart sinks as queasiness accumulates in my stomach. She’s been around the whole time. What a fool I’ve been. I glare at Valen, determined to end our charade. “Let’s make sure we’re on the same page from now on, okay? I cared for you and you played games with me… I’m done,” I shout, pointing at him. “From now on, I don’t care who you’re with, who you love, or who you sleep with, got it?!” I shriek, finishing proudly.

His eyes float helplessly in pools of hurt and his jaw becomes a hard line. My fire begins to die down, allowing room for guilt.
Oh no, I don’t
. I’m not going to allow my feelings to cloud what needs to be done. I remind myself he doesn’t care and he undoubtedly never did. I know it’s a lie, but it will certainly make it easier for me. He opens his mouth to say something, but changes his mind. He walks past me, careful not to make physical contact. He slams the bedroom door, triggering my body to jump in response. His masculine scent lingers in my nose, stirring awake my buried emotions. I stagger to my room, exhausted and beaten. When did living become so hard? I dive into my bed, and even before my head hits the pillow, I'm out like a light.

I'm walking briskly on a moist cobblestone pathway. The echo of my shoes clicking and clacking bounces off the walls like thunder in this confined space. From what I can tell, I’m in some sort of tunnel. My hand is wrapped tightly around a tiny candle that can only illuminate an inch in front of me. I spot a section of paintings covering a portion of the wall, and whiz past an interesting one of a man being rescued from flames. I wonder what that symbolizes. My attention returns to the present. In the distance, I see a beam through a cracked doorway, lighting a small portion of the otherwise dingy passageway.

My feeling of excitement grows as I reach the door, gently tugging it towards me. I enter the room where a warm glow emanates from lit candles. The room is undersized, but very quaint. Every wall is decorated with something, from beautiful works of art to a bookcase filled with world-famous novels. I attempt to walk over to them, but feel resistance. What the hell is going on? Abruptly, I move towards a man bent over a desk littered with papers and open books. Muddled words and ancient symbols create an organized chaos. How can someone work like this? Ms. Aketti, my third grade teacher, pops into my head. She always said clutter is organization to some people. I shake my head when I remember some of the stupid tangents she would go off on, noticing it doesn't move. The man in front of me hunches over a large book, reading it intently. The pages look distressed and tinted with age. I don't think he heard me come in. Pieces of gray hair peek through the bottom of his red hat, curling up the sides of it like miniature octopus tentacles. His wrinkly hand is holding a pair of cracked glasses, which he apparently doesn't need. As if sensing me, he cocks his head in my direction. I ask the man who he is, but my mouth remains shut.