Pandora's Box (16 page)

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Authors: Gracen Miller

Tags: #Book One of the Road To Hell Series

BOOK: Pandora's Box
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Chapter Thirty

Micah stared at his slumbering son and wife. Amos lay between Madison and Phoenix Birmingham. Cloaked in an invisible spell, he prevented them from perceiving his presence.

Irritation as prickly as briars clenched his heart because she’d invited the human Sherlock into their home. Into their goddamn, sacred marriage bed.

The man stunk with righteousness. Madison hadn’t fucked him. Not yet. Phoenix’s scent would be permanently inscribed in her cells if they shared the marital act. Only her scent wafted to him presently. Her continued fidelity was the only reason he allowed the Sherlock to live.

He recognized her physical attraction to the human. That she could replace him with someone as frail as a mortal—a Sherlock, no less—put him in a capricious mood. He’d chosen her for her lineage. He refused to let some cock-sucking mortal ruin decades of planning. Soon all his patient preparation would come to final fruition. If he held just an inkling Phoenix would hinder those plans, he’d snuff him without a second thought.

His gaze shifted from the hated Sherlock to his son. Ah….being a father proved better than he could have hoped, and he felt such pride in Amos. The boy displayed more power than he’d anticipated. Too bad he hadn’t bred a small army with Madison. Her special blended DNA and her boldness made for perfect offspring.

She impressed him with her determination to kill him and save their son. He appreciated the irony of her attempt to save Amos from his father, when he held no desire to harm either of them. Big plans were in the making for his little family, a design so huge the mortal world would cower and cave to his desires.

Micah chuckled and scratched his chin. Soon they’d be ready for him. Madison had become stronger than he’d once believed possible, but her strength would only solidify his takeover. His half-breed Queen, beautiful, fearsome…brighter days were indeed ahead.

In the pitch dark, he strolled to the bed, cutting his finger with a claw and dropping blood onto Pandora’s Box. The skull design soaked up his demonic hemoglobin. The only way he could feed her without protest. Slightly untruthful about the power of Pandora’s Box, he would teach her how to manipulate it when she showed readiness. First, he must make sure she wouldn’t turn on him.

Once he fed her all the blood she could contain for the night, he licked his bleeding wound, sealing his flesh. Using a claw, he wrote, W-I-F-E on Madison’s bare thigh. Nothing more than a scratch, it would heal quickly—unlike the fingerprints he’d left on her neck. When she woke, she would be unable to ignore his presence or the silent reminder she couldn’t outrun or escape him. She needed to be cognizant of his far-reaching hand.

***

Madison woke in a cold sweat. Her thigh stung, and the smell of sulfur clung in her nostrils. Quickly, she scanned the room. Nix and Amos both slept undisturbed. Maybe Amos went half-demonic in his sleep and it woke her. The idea wasn’t refreshing, but at least it wouldn’t indicate the presence of a demonic visitor. The terror that Micah would reappear at any moment festered like an alien entity in her soul.

With a shaky hand, she touched her thigh. It burned like mad.

Shivering, she climbed out of bed and tiptoed to the bathroom. She shut the door and flipped the light switch. Sitting on the toilet, she bent her leg to look at her thigh. A scratch spelled out W-I-F-E. She blanched and her heartbeat went from 60 to 150—or felt like it—in a second flat, and her stomach heaved viciously. Yanking the toilet seat up, she vomited until she dry heaved. Silent tears streamed unchecked down her cheeks, and she shook all over as she sat on the toilet lid.

Visible proof Micah still existed, not that she’d ever really believed him gone. Even more proof his evil intentions were far from over. She hoped she would have time to prepare Amos for the fight.

Oh, God, please give me time
, she prayed, sobbing into her hands. She wanted to punch something, to scream at the injustice of the world. What about her caused Micah to single her out? Because she’d been young and impressionable? Girls like that were everywhere. Maybe because she wanted to escape her father? A ton of girls shared her situation. Or maybe she’d been easily maneuverable, and, best of all, malleable? Mostly, she contained the right genetic material. Oh, and she couldn’t forget the pact he’d made with her mother.

She rubbed her eyes. Mother had been in on everything!

The first time she laid eyes on Micah, in church on Christmas morning, she’d been fifteen and had known he would haunt her. If she’d known how much, she might’ve run away that very day. Anything to escape the future nightmare she now lived in.

Her confusing attraction to him had caused her to bolt that morning. Her mother walked up to him, placed her hand on his shoulder, and spoke to him.
Dear God, he was there to check me out. To see if I’d grown into all he hoped for
.

Madison’s stomach churned over the total management of her life. Her mother probably lived somewhere, enjoying her demonic, succubus life, leaving her daughter to fight the manipulation of a King.

She couldn’t deny Micah had given her all the things her heart desired. He’d spoiled her with a nice house, cars, clothes, jewelry, and money still fattening her bank account. She loved him, worshipped him, doted on him, and would have walked straight into Hell with him if he’d stayed with her.

All the time, his plan had been to corrupt her soul.

The reality made her sob harder, and her stomach pitched again. Only his leaving turned her into a woman with a backbone. She should be thankful for his sudden exit. She was thankful for it.

Enough crying!
No more tears over a man unworthy of her love and devotion. Squaring her shoulders, she stood and stared at her reflection in the mirror. Pale face, pale hair, and wide, blue eyes glistening with tears. She turned on the tap, splashed water on her face, and peered at the mirror again.

“Micah will not win,” she vowed. From somewhere deep inside, a woman with a new level of strength and determination was born. Drying her face, she decided she wouldn’t tell Nix about the writing on her thigh. He’d just blame himself again, and she couldn’t take the guilt.

***

Madison winced as her hand accidentally brushed against her thigh. The memory of the previous night still shook her foundation. It also made her ponder the need for change. Before she could fight her husband in the ultimate battle, she required preparation. Nix refused to bring her into the Sherlock lifestyle. She’d begun to think she and Amos should strike out alone.

Demons wouldn’t harm either of them, wouldn’t dare touch Amos, and if she believed Micah, another demon couldn’t harm her son anyway. The knowledge fed her a level of safety.

“You plan on telling Nix about last night’s visit?”

Madison jerked and glanced at Georgie, surprised by her question. “No,” she told the other woman. “I think it’s best not to worry him.”

Georgie nodded. Madison couldn’t tell if the woman agreed or not.

“I’m thinking of leaving.” She watched Nix and Amos, horseplaying like a couple of boys. The only positive father figure Amos had, it’d be hard to separate him from Nix. “Do you think I’m wrong?”

“Every choice you make leads to your future.”

Madison twisted her lips. In other words, Georgie knew she’d been thinking of leaving before Madison uttered the words. What else did the woman know?

“For good or bad?” she asked, foreboding settling into her limbs again. A feeling she sensed often, because she feared even the best of intentions would lead her to the dark path. Take Anakin Skywalker’s road to becoming Darth Vader. All his decisions were made for the right reasons, they just led to the wrong outcome. Would she make the same mistakes? She hoped not.

“Yes,” Georgie agreed. “Your future isn’t set. Every choice you make leads to a different outcome.”

“I hope I make the right decisions.”

“Where will you go?” She could feel Georgie’s eyes on her.

Madison shrugged. “Hit the road, travel.” She faced the psychic. “Find some demons to practice killing.”

“That could be dangerous.”

“Sitting here waiting is dangerous.” Amos’s squeals of laughter drew her attention, and she smiled as Nix tossed him over his shoulder and pretended to run from the police. “Georgie, can I ask you something about Nix?”

“I don’t promise to answer.”

Smiling, she turned back to the psychic, admitting she liked the woman’s loyalty. “Will Nix ever find a woman for himself?”

Georgie stared at her for a long time, and Madison began to think she wouldn’t answer. “Why do you ask?” the older woman finally said.

“He’s jaded and thinks his life will be short and end bloody.”

Georgie nodded at Madison’s words. Did the woman agree with Nix’s assessment? She didn’t have the nerve to ask. “He’s a good man, and he’s lonely. He deserves someone to share his life.”

A half-tilted smile touched Georgie’s lips. “Nix has many roads to travel, none of them easy. All of them will lead to the woman intended for him.”

Nodding, Madison felt the sting of tears hit her eyes. Blinking them back, both jealousy and happiness surging inside, she was satisfied he would eventually have someone. She watched Nix and Amos slink behind a tree, jump out, and shoot with their pretend hand guns. Nix took numerous make-believe bullets to his chest, jerking with each imaginary slug, and died valiantly, worthy of cinematic mention.

The more she observed him goof around with her son, the sexier he became because he recognized Amos craved fatherly attention and did something about it. He needed his own son one day, even if it would be unfair for a child to grow up in the middle of Nix’s precarious line of work.

“Will she be in the Sherlock business, or will he get out of the business?”

“She’s in the business.” Georgie sipped at her homemade lemonade. “She’s a strong woman, brave, and not without her own inner turmoil.”

Madison chuckled when Amos came to Nix’s aid, doing dramatic CPR, to which Nix entertained him by coming back to life, zombie style.

“I hope I live long enough to meet her.”

“You will.”

Good. She wanted to meet the woman special enough to claim Nix as her own. “Georgie, I want to leave Nix some money.” She felt Georgie’s acute attention and turned to face the woman. “I know you all struggle on the road, and they came here to help me, asking nothing in return. Could you help me set up an account in his name? Give him the documents when I’m gone?”

The psychic elevated a dark eyebrow. “You don’t wish to give it to him yourself?”

Madison shook her head and reached for her glass of lemonade. “He won’t take it from me. I’ve offered. Before I leave, I want to know all you Birminghams are taken care of.”

Georgie nodded. “You’re a generous woman, Madison.”

“I can afford to be generous.” The money had become a sour pill in the pit of her stomach.

“You’re nothing like Micah.”

“If I ever do become like him, Georgie, promise me you’ll put me down.”

The other woman smiled. “We’ll see.”

“I don’t know what Micah’s plans are. I just know they’re not good. I would feel better knowing I have someone I trust willing to put me down when the time comes.”

“If,” Georgie said. “If the time ever comes, I’ll think about it. And that’s as good a promise as you’re ever going to get from me.”

Madison sat back with a heavy sigh. Strange how the psychic kept her opinions to herself, when she normally espoused prophecy and suggestions like a normal person breathed. Georgie made no attempts to talk Madison out of leaving. She gave only the impression Madison should follow her own path. Making her own choices would produce whatever outcome fate intended for her and Amos.

Chapter Thirty-One

A month of nothing left Nix antsy. Not even a twinge of demonic activity, which meant everything would blow to hell soon. James, Gage, and Zoe all came and went. Although Mads’s problems were unresolved, there were still other supernatural complications in the world.

Nix remained, refusing to vacate without a resolution. A week before, Georgie had departed. Her final words still bothered him. She pinched his chin, held his eyes hostage, and said with all the sternness of a fierce matriarch, “One month, Nix. You’ve got one month, and then I want you gone from here.”

“I can’t leave her until I know she’s safe.”

“It’ll be many years before either of them is even close to safe.” She patted his cheek. “They can’t make their fate with you by their side. Together they will grow stronger, leaning on each other, building a bond to surpass normal parent-child boundaries. For now, your paths will stray, coming together at odd times, but there’ll come a time….” She ruffled his hair, and Nix got the idea she resisted divulging too much. “I know your feelings run deep, but you’re a long way from being ready to make the final leap.”

Nix gaped at her, afraid she could see past his collected veneer and read his attraction for Mads. So, he responded with irritation. “What the hell leap are you talking about? I promised to protect them. I can’t do that if I’m not here.”

“Such a little boy still.” She shook her head. Nix frowned. “They don’t need your protection. For now, the boy knows how to hide them from the King.”

First Crow spoke riddles, and now Georgie added her own. He wished someone would just speak cold, hard facts without shrouding them in brainteasers which created massive headaches.

Reluctant to leave Mads until her problems were resolved, he figured no one could force him out the door except her. She wasn’t asking him to leave. At least not yet.

“Nix!”

Jarred from his contemplation, Nix bolted into the backyard at Mads’s panicked cry. Two steps onto the back porch, he stuttered to a stop and gaped. In the middle of the backyard, animals surrounded Amos—squirrels, chipmunks, birds, snakes, coyotes, foxes, dogs, cats, rodents, wild and tame.

“Very…disturbing,” he said, stroking his nape, unable to believe what he witnessed. How could one make the leap from demon child to Noah’s successor practically overnight? Odd. Bizarre. A lot unnatural. Possibly apocalyptic. He jerked out of his trance and shoved Madison out of harm’s way as a rattlesnake struck at her, missing her leg by less than an inch.

She failed to appreciate that he saved her life. She barely spared him a glance as she demanded, “Do something!”

“What?”

“You’re the pro.”

“At hunting ghosts and monsters, not Noah’s successor.”

She gave him a blank stare. “Noah’s—ha ha…freaking funny, Nix.”

A large wolfhound nuzzled Amos’s hand, and the boy dropped to his knees to snuggle his face in the thick fur of the animal’s neck.

“That,” she nodded toward the animal and Amos, “scares me more than Micah.”

They knew what her demon ex wanted, Madison and Amos. This…this could only be biblical.

“Send them home,” Nix told the boy, fear for the mother and child’s future vibrating through his body.

Amos shooed them away, and the creatures obeyed.

***

Madison packed two suitcases, desperate to get out of town. Each day she grew more melancholy. Darkness settled like a thick ball in the pit of her belly. She couldn’t shake it off. The frantic urge to leave Alabama stalked her constantly. Micah visited every night, leaving small telltale signs of his presence. It had begun with writing ‘wife’ on her thigh. Another evening he wrote ‘mine’ on the top of her foot. Other small things only she would notice occurred as well. A chocolate Kiss left on her pillow. Before he departed for business trips, he’d always left her the silver-wrapped candy. At the time, she’d thought it romantic, now she wanted to suffocate him in melted chocolate. A tiara left on her vanity, reminding her he planned for her to become his Queen. The kitchen door open after she knew she had twisted the deadbolt before retiring, along with the taunting note taped to the door:
No one can keep me away from my wife and son
.

Living in close quarters with Nix, she couldn’t keep hiding the visits from him.

Time to leave. Time to take a road trip, and embrace a life adventure which would lead to her unknown future. Amos had talked about a man trapped in a cave who needed to be freed. Each time he talked about the ‘cave man’, Crow’s words filtered through her memory: “Trust in the goodness you’ve instilled in your son, and a formidable alliance will be forged, one to defeat a second King.”

Could they be the same man? Probably not. Most likely not. She would never know, unless she started trusting him. The more Kings of Hell she could kill, the better off this world would be. Priority one on her list of Kings to kill…Micah.

“Let me go with you,” Nix said, as she walked back in the house after placing the suitcases in her Land Rover.

“No.” She shook her head. “We’ve got to do this alone.”

He lanced agitated fingers through his hair, the messier style suited him. “Who will protect you? And Amos?”

She walked to him, feeling a bit awkward. Unsure how to say goodbye to someone so integral to her life. Touching his face with her palm, she memorized the lines of his face, his hard-chiseled chin, the span of his wide, sexy lips that kissed in a way to madden her, and the green of his eyes. He caught her hand, rubbing his stubbly cheek against her palm.

“Trust me. We have to do this, Nix. You know we have to do this,”

He knew she spoke true, or he’d be throwing a fit, threatening her and attempting to force her to stay. Because he remained calm, she guessed he realized she followed the path fate set for her. She could probably thank Georgie for easing the situation.

“I’ll miss you, Nix. As long as I have a home, you’ll always have a home. And as long as I have money, you’ll have money.”

Nix snatched her into his arms and hugged her tight. Tears burned her eyes. She would miss him. Nothing could’ve prepared her for the emotions churning inside her. Not even knowing this day would eventually come.

She would always think of him as a nomad and wanderer in the wrong century, bent on saving everyone except himself. At one time, she thought he’d be the one to leave, not the other way around. She breathed deeply, committing his scent and the hard line of the man against her to memory.

“If you or Amos ever need me, Mads, you call, and I’ll be on my way.” He kissed the top of her head.

“We’ll be fine,” she mumbled against his chest. She tilted her head back to imbibe one last glimpse of him. “You should say goodbye to Amos.”

He nodded, his face sad and sweet, filled with regret, making her wonder if he had more to say. He remained silent.

She caught his face and kissed him on the lips, lingering for a moment, her heart breaking. She slipped out of his arms and walked out of the room.

Nix stood on the lawn, watching her back out of the garage. He lifted a hand and offered a sad smile as she drove out of his life.

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