Personal Demons 2 - Original Sin (26 page)

“That's right,” she says, reaching up for my face and pulling me into a kiss.

Her draw is voracious. I'm desperate to be closer. I gather my essence and seep through her open lips. But as my essence enters her, I'm shocked out of my lust-induced trance by Frannie's voice crying, “No!”

“It's getting a little crowded in here, don't you think?” Lilith's voice interrupts. “Hot and sweaty. And you know how I like hot and sweaty, Luc.”

I cringe, knowing that Frannie is listening in on our internal conversation, but Lilith is right. I've never felt so claustrophobic in someone else's body.

Lilith's essence swirls, huge but shadowy and impossible to contain. I can feel the host body's soul, dark and thick, cowering in the corners. A soul clearly already tagged for Hell, which is why Lilith was able to inhabit her body in the first place.

Then I feel Frannie, her white opalescence swirling weakly around my glossy black. And aside from the obvious, there's something terribly wrong. There's no spark to her soul, as if she's too exhausted to continue—spent. Panic chokes my thoughts. I only know I need to get her out of here.

“I could leave and take a few of these souls with me.”

“Not going to happen. My king wants you back. Of course, judging from the last time we were together, I'm thinking you won't
want
to leave for long.”

Another wave of desire almost takes me under, but I channel it and turn it back on her. As my thoughts clear, it occurs to me that Lilith and I aren't really that different. She's a pawn in His game, just as I was. If I could make her see a way out…

“You don't have to do this, Lilith.”

Her essence swirls thick around Frannie and me, smoke streaked with crimson. “You know I do.”

“He's just using you—all of us—in His twisted game. If He gets Frannie, there'll be no stopping Him.”

“There's already no stopping Him. And besides, maybe I don't want to stop Him. When He is the Almighty, things will be different.”

“Some things won't change. The torture…what He does to you—”

“I
need
what He does to me. There's nothing like His lust in the mortal world. I was hoping Matt's would be enough, but…” She trails off. Even though her words are sharp, they're driven by an undercurrent of fear that she can't hide. And, in that statement, I see the difference between Lilith and me. I was born of sin. Lilith chose it. She literally made a deal with the devil all those millennia ago. Where I traded my immortality for love, she traded her mortality for lust.

“I can't live without His lust,” she adds, sounding broken. “Frannie felt it. She knows.”

Everything spins. Is that what happened to her, why there's nothing left?
What did He do to her?
Guilt rips a hole right through me, leaving me cold and empty.

I let this happen.

I think of Frannie's sparkling sapphire eyes, how alive they were, and I want to die, knowing this is my fault. I wasn't strong enough to deserve her—to protect her.

I call out to her with my mind and move slowly, encircling Frannie's shimmering essence with my own. I work to hide my doubt and insecurity, instead playing on Lilith's. “With Frannie by His side, do you really think He'll still want you?”

“He has
always
wanted me, and He
will
always want me.” I feel her fury and fear swirl through us, the red streaks of her essence becoming thicker, more solid.

And then I do it. I blend my essence with Frannie's.

Please, Frannie. Please come back to me.

“Isn't that sweet,” Lilith says, all bitterness and hate. “But it's too late. She would have willingly given herself to our king if you hadn't so rudely interrupted.”

Frannie's essence burns and swirls, stronger every second. I bask in it, feeling my own essence swell as hers becomes more vivacious. Her anger surges, black pepper in my nose, and then I hear her voice, faint at first but becoming stronger as her raison d'être grows. It sounds like a chant, and as it grows louder, I'm able to decipher the words in the rhythm. It becomes strong enough that Lilith's lips start to move and she says it out loud.

“Let me go. You don't want me. Let me go. You don't want me.”

Hope washes through me. I keep my essence blended with Frannie's and send her all my strength. Lilith groans and I use the little bit of control I have to force her host body to stay still when she tries to run. Lilith struggles to hold on to Frannie, and I feel Frannie's resolve falter as Lilith floods us with dark ideas—blood, lust, death.

“No, Frannie, don't listen,” I say, and start chanting with her. “Let me go. You don't want me. Let me go.”

I feel a different sort of surge in Frannie, and her essence flows stronger. I draw on her strength and send it back, swirling the cyclone inside.

“Luc?” It comes from somewhere deep inside her, accompanied by a burst of warm chocolate.

“Focus,” I say, struggling to do the same. “Let me go. You don't want me.”

She picks it back up, stronger.

I feel Lilith waver. Her smoky essence ebbs for just an instant, but it's enough. Relief washes over me as I feel Frannie's soul swirl—taste her currant and clove. And then she's gone.

I gather my essence and start to seep out of this body, between Lilith's lips, but a Banshee cry rips through her. I feel a sick tug and realize I'm tethered here by some force.

“No! I can't go back without at least one of you,” Lilith cries.

Lilith spins on Frannie, where Gabriel is perched over her body on the bed. He's got one hand on her chest and another on her head. He glances up, the panic in his eyes triggering crushing dread in my heart. “You're on your own, dude,” he says, and presses his lips to Frannie's, breathing for her. “Come on, Frannie,” he says.

I'm nearly helpless in Lilith's body as she charges at Frannie, determined to get her back. But just before we reach her, Gabriel raises his hand, and white lightning shoots from his palm, coursing through us.

Lilith screams and drops to the floor, and it's everything I can do to stifle my own scream. But as painful as that was, I know Gabriel was holding back or Lilith's host body would be dead. She's not, but the blast is enough to break Lilith's focus.

I think of Frannie, of the person she made me, of all the good she brings out in me, and I feel my strength swell. I push with everything I have. Lilith groans as she fights through the pain to hold me. But she can't, and my essence shoots from her body like a stone from a slingshot.

The force with which I enter my human shell almost knocks me unconscious. I struggle to get my head straight and pull myself off the floor.

Lilith picks herself up, and with one glance back at Gabriel, she staggers for the door. She opens it and runs square into Taylor, standing in the hall. Taylor's eyes bulge at the sight of Lili emerging, bloody, from my apartment.

“Hey, girl,” Lilith says.

And then everything happens in a blur.

She drapes herself over Taylor. The next instant, Lilith's body goes limp and hits the floor in a heap, and Taylor is running full speed down the hall.

A strangled, choking wheeze sounds behind me, and I wheel around to find Frannie cradled in Gabriel's arms, clawing at her throat and gasping for air.

Gabriel looks up at me. “Taylor,” he barks with a jerk of his head toward the door.

I pause for one more second, fighting my need to run to Frannie, to touch her and make sure she's okay, before stepping over the unconscious brunette who used to be Lilith on my way to the stairs. As I slam through the door to the parking lot, an engine roars and I hear a car bottom out on the curb. I run to the street and catch a glimpse of the taillights of an old black hearse turning the corner.

Marchosias.
Damn!

I wait at the curb a moment longer, then sprint back up the stairs to Frannie.

Frannie

My throat is still on fire and my vision is blurry when Luc walks back into the apartment. My stomach turns at the sight of him carrying Lilith's unconscious body.

Gabe rocks me in his arms. His summer snow dulls the pain in my body and my burning lungs, making me forget everything. I sink deeper into him, hoping he'll bury me altogether, and lay my pounding head in the crook of his neck as he gathers me tighter against him.

I recoil farther into Gabe as Luc lays Lilith next to me on the bed. His eyes flick to me momentarily as he covers her with a blanket, making sure that she's comfortable. Then he turns concerned eyes on Gabe. “Will she be okay?”

Gabe smooths a hand over my hair. “I don't know.”

Luc stares down at Lilith, his face unreadable. He reaches down and brushes her hair out of her face.

And watching him touch her like that cuts me like a knife. I turn my face away and try to block out the image of the last time I saw them together.

“I need to go.” My voice is a hoarse croak as I try to force air through my throbbing vocal cords.

“Sure, Frannie.”

I wince and cry out when Gabe hikes me into his arms as he stands.

“Gabriel—?” I'm surprised by the tinge of panic in Luc's voice.

I pull my face out of Gabe's shoulder and look at Luc, but when our eyes connect, he looks away.

I'm so confused. I remember how Lilith made me feel—how much I wanted her—so I kinda get that what happened that night might not have been all Luc's fault. My head is telling me that. But my broken heart still can't get past what he did.

“You know what? Put me down. I'm fine,” I say, pushing away from Gabe. The truth is I hurt all over, but they don't need to know that. “Nothing's broken.”

Gabe looks at me with troubled eyes. He doesn't argue with me, even though he knows I'm lying. But he doesn't put me down either. His gaze slides to Luc. “Taylor?”

“What's wrong with Taylor?” I shift in Gabe's arms, and the sharp pain shooting through my ribs makes me gasp. I glance at Luc for the answer, but he just shakes his head.

“Nothing for you to worry about,” Gabe says, and I feel him pulling that snow crap on me again.

I fight the peaceful calm that settles over me. “That's not an answer.”

“I'll find her. Don't worry.”

I hear the frustration in his voice, and panic cuts through me. I struggle to get free of his arms, but every movement causes a sharp jab of pain in one place or another. “You'll find her? What the hell does that mean?
Was she here?
” I kick my legs, because they seem to hurt the least. “Put me down!”

He lowers my feet gently to the floor and supports me there. He inclines his head toward Luc, gesturing for him to speak, but with a warning in his eye.

I grab Gabe's shirt and yank. “No!
You
answer me.” Gabe can't lie, and that's all Luc does. I want the truth.

“Later, Frannie,” he says.

“Tell me now!” The words feel like fire ripping out of my throat.

“She needs to know, Gabriel,” Luc says. He steps around the bed, and there's pain in his eyes. “Lilith has her.” But then his face pinches as he grimaces and his eyes drop from mine.

Panic tangles with confusion as I look at the girl on the bed. “Lilith is right there.”

“That's not Lilith. It's her host,” Gabe answers.

I shake my head as frustration rears up, making me want to slap Gabe—to make him stop talking in riddles.
“What the hell is going on?”

He holds my eyes with his, concern etching his brow. “Lilith has shifted. She's taken Taylor.”

“She shifted…into Taylor…?” Understanding dawns in some corner of my mind and I go rigid. Taylor is tagged for Hell.

“We'll get her back.” Luc won't meet my eyes, but even through the shake in his voice, he sounds determined. He squats down, fingering the loose pages of his original-run
Purgatorio
that litter the floor.

I turn back to Gabe, wincing. “What are we gonna do?”

“You need to go home, Frannie—get some rest. Luc and I are better equipped to track Taylor down and deal with Lilith.”

“I want to—”

Gabe cuts me off with a finger to my swollen lips. “You could pull your Sway on me and make me let you do this, but you know as well as I do that you'd only slow us down and get in the way. Is that what you want? Us protecting you? Or do you want Taylor back safely?”

I glare, trying to convince myself he's wrong. “But maybe my Sway can help.”

“How?”

“Maybe I could…I don't know…maybe she'd leave Taylor alone.”

“I don't think this is going to be that simple. You're the one she wants, Frannie. It'd be safer for you not to get anywhere near her.”

I remember what Lilith did to me, how she made me feel, and in the end, I get that he's right. “Fine.”

Luc's voice comes from near the broken window. “I'll drive her home.” I turn and his obsidian eyes lock on mine. I feel a pang in my heart as I remember that those eyes aren't human anymore.

“I can drive,” I say, furious at the shake in my voice.

“No, you can't,” Gabe says. “And I need to deal with this.” He waves a hand at the girl on the bed.

I look at Luc, who won't meet my gaze, and spin for the door. “Let's go.”

Gabe catches Luc's arm on the way by and fixes him in a hard gaze. “Stay with her until I can get there.” His voice is low, and I don't think he means for me to hear, but I turn and glare at him so he knows I did.

In the first few steps, I find that my legs still function, but my left knee is puffy and a little numb. It falters on the first stair and Luc grabs my elbow to steady me as I claw for the handrail. I'm completely unprepared for my body's reaction to his touch. I groan as his demonic heat courses through me, making my already wavering legs refuse to hold me. Luc catches me before I hit the ground, sweeping me up into his arms.

I can't look him in the eye. “Put me down.”

He ignores me and carries me down the stairs.

“Put me down,” I repeat when we get to the bottom, and he does.

I hobble to the car, and Luc holds out his hand for the key. I hand him the rabbit's foot key chain with the old, worn key to the Mustang, and the shiny, new key to his apartment.

Wordlessly, he takes it from my hand and we climb in, him in the driver's seat.

“I really can drive.” I start to cross my arms and slump into the seat before my ribs remind me that isn't gonna work.

In response, he turns the key in the ignition and backs out of the parking spot. For a second, his eyes flick to mine and I see it. Guilt.

Rage rips out of my emotional black pit. “You knew.” It's less a question and more an accusation.

He shoots another glance in my direction, but he doesn't answer.

“How much did you know? Did you know what she was? Lili?”

His jaw clenches and he draws a deep breath, but he just stares out the windshield.

“Did you know she and Matt were, like…together?”

“I told you that,” he says, his voice totally flat.

He
did
tell me that. And I stupidly hoped he was right. My stomach clamps into a hard knot.

“You knew Taylor was tagged for Hell.” It's not a question.

His eyes flick to mine again, and there's the guilt.

“How could you not tell me?”

He shakes his head but says nothing.

My mind reels with other questions and things I want to say to him—most of them along the lines of, How could you turn out to be such a lying, cheating bastard? But I know what his answer to that would be: He's a demon—what did I expect? So I seethe internally and force myself not to look at him. And try to ignore the aching hole deep inside me. I close my eyes, press back into the seat, and turn my head toward the window so he won't see the tears leaking down my cheeks.

I remember the reasons I came over to Luc's in the first place—what I saw in the dream. I needed to see for myself that he was gone. But he's here. So close, I could touch him. And I want to. I want to feel his arms around me, his lips on mine.

God, I've missed him.

What's wrong with me? How can I love him and hate him all at the same time?

I brush the tears from my face and cast him an assessing, sidelong glance. His head is propped back on the headrest at a little bit of an angle away from me, one wrist draped over the steering wheel and the other hand on the gearshift. His eyes glow red through his silky black mop, and the occasional working streetlight glints off his eyebrow piercings.

God, I don't know what to think. He looks healthy enough, so apparently his trip to Hell was voluntary. Was I stupid for worrying?

I turn toward him and almost reach for him. But I stop myself. He continues to stare out the windshield intently. He's made no move to say anything. His expression is hard, his face drawn. If he still cared about me, wouldn't he tell me?

Tears threaten again and I choke them off. I think back on Lilith—how she made me feel when she kissed me—and I know what I need to say.

“I know it wasn't your fault—with Lilith.”

He stiffens and I can tell he's not breathing as he stares out the windshield. When I'm sure that's all the answer I'm gonna get, I turn back to the window.

“I'm sorry,” he says, his voice low, and I hope he doesn't hear the shudder in my breathing as I sob into the window.

I fight to get myself together as he pulls into my driveway and steps out of the car, tossing me the keys. He just stands there, staring at me with hard, obsidian eyes that reflect back any attempt to see deeper. More than anything, I want Gabe's ability to read minds right now.

I realize he's waiting for me to go inside, so I slide out of my seat and start to head for the house, trying not to limp. Halfway up the walk, I turn back to him, trying to read him again. In that instant, before he realizes I've turned, I catch something in his expression. Pain.

I almost run back to him. But the next instant, as his eyes lock on mine, his expression turns hard and stone cold again. And as I step toward him, I realize I'm not gonna be running anywhere for a while. But I have to know.

“Was it all just an act? Did you ever care about me at all?”

His expression shifts through about ten different things so quickly, I can't get a read on any of them, before finally settling back to blank. He stares at me for a long, awkward minute, then slowly shakes his head.

If there was ever any question, at least now I know for sure. This is how he wants it. It's what I needed to know to let go—move on. My chest feels ready to cave in as I turn back toward the house and push through the door. Once inside and out of Luc's sight, I lean my forehead on the door and let the ache in my chest dissolve into tears. But Mom's voice from the kitchen turns my thoughts to how I'm gonna get cleaned up without anyone seeing me. The torn clothes, bruises, and blood would be a little tricky to explain to my parents.
Yeah, remember that girl that Luc slept with? Well, we beat the shit out of each other.

After listening for a second to Mom's voice, I realize what I'm hearing is her half of a telephone conversation rolling out of the kitchen. The Red Sox game blasts from the TV in the family room. There's a fifty–fifty chance that Dad is asleep in his chair in front of the game. My sisters hate baseball, so I'm sure he's alone.

I listen through the din of the TV, and sure enough, Dad's snore is just audible over the blare of the commentators. I wipe the tears from my face and smooth my hair with my damp hands before slinking through the family room and up the stairs as quickly and quietly as possible. My intention is to head directly to the bathroom, but before I reach the top of the stairs, I hear the shower running. Someone's beat me to it.

I hurry into my room and close the door. At the window, I glance up at the brewing storm clouds, wondering how it is that the weather seems to match my frame of mind so perfectly. I drop my eyes to the Mustang, thinking idly that I should have put the top up.

And my heart skips.

Luc is still standing at my car, hands propped on the driver door, head hanging between his shoulders. As I watch, he pushes sharply back from the car and paces the sidewalk, then glances up at my window. I duck and cry out as my ribs bump the desk on my way to the floor.

Why is he still here?

But then I remember Gabe telling him to stay.

I skitter along the floor on my hands and knees and cross the room to my mirror, where I use the dresser to help pull myself back to a stand. Looking at my face, it's not as bad as I expected. But then my hand gravitates to the tender knot on the back of my head and I wince. My phone rings and I jump, pressing harder into the knot and wincing again.

I look at the caller ID, hoping for Taylor. It's Riley.

“Have you heard from Tay?”

What does she know?

“Um…no. You know she's not speaking to me. What's up?”

“Trev says she just blasted in there, grabbed some stuff, and took off without a word. He's worried.”

“I don't know, Ry. That Marc guy she's with is seriously scary. Trev should be worried.” I know I am. My stomach is a hard ball of worry.

She's quiet for a minute. “Should we go look for her?”

“Maybe,” I say, hoping Gabe already is. I hear the door to the bathroom click open. “Listen, I gotta go. Call me if you hear anything, 'kay?”

“'Kay.”

I speed-dial Gabe. “Taylor was at her house just now,” I say when he picks up.

“I'll check it out. Are you home?”

“Yeah.”

“Sleep. I'll be there when I can.” His voice is soft, reassuring.