Personal Demons (23 page)

“You stupid bitch. Now we’re all slated for the Pit. What were you thinking?” In his rage, his true form shimmers dangerously close to the surface, peeking through his human shell.

The humor is gone from Avaira’s voice, replaced with alarm. “It was an accident. We won’t go to the Pit.”

Belias sends up a growl and is gone in a puff of brimstone. A second later his Shelby, still idling on the curb, peals out. I turn and Avaira is gone too.

In all my existence, I can’t remember ever being so scared. I look down at Frannie and turn off the heat. She looks up at me, her head clearing now that Belias is gone. No angel has shown up to take her yet, so maybe she’s okay. I pull her tight to my chest, not sure if it’s me or her shaking so hard. I nuzzle my face into her hair and I breathe her in.

“I couldn’t let him have you,” I mumble without thinking.

She looks up at me, eyes at half-mast. “Couldn’t do
what
? What’s going on?” Her voice is weak and thick, her words a slur.

How to answer? The truth? Well, I almost let Belias, an incubus, seduce you and suck out your soul.

No.

I force a smile and work to keep my voice even. “You were getting into some stranger’s car, Frannie. Didn’t your mother ever warn you about strangers?”

Her brow creases as though she’s fighting to remember something, but she doesn’t respond.

Belias’s noisy exit has attracted the attention of some neighbors. Thankfully, it’s broad daylight, or Avaira’s red blast would have lit up the neighborhood. Nevertheless, I see the blind being
lifted in the house across from Frannie’s, so I hurry to get her inside. I carry her past my Shelby into her house and up the stairs to her room, where I lay her on the bed and check her over quickly. Still warm, but her breathing and heart rate are better. I hang my head as a huge wave of relief washes over me.

She’s okay.

I start to move to the window to check for Belias, but her hand shoots up and grabs mine.

“Hey,” I say. “You need to get some rest.”

“Stay.” Her voice is weak but determined.

She pulls harder on my hand, and I sit on the edge of the bed, raking back the sandy-blond waves stuck to her sweaty forehead with my fingers. “I really think I should go, Frannie. Things won’t go well if your parents get home and find me in your bedroom. I’ll be right outside. I promise.”

Her voice is stronger and her eyes plead with me. “Stay.”

I breathe deep, resisting the urge to kiss her. I’m completely unable to say no to her. “As you wish.”

I sit on the bed for a long time and watch her breathing become deeper and more regular as she drifts off into sleep.
What the Hell am I doing?
I was able to leave the Abyss because I entered on my own—I hadn’t been summoned—but it’s only a matter of time. And when the summons comes, it’s all over. Do I have days? Hours? Whatever it is, it’s not enough. And whatever the outcome, whether I tag her or not, I won’t be able to stay with her. My chest throbs at the prospect of leaving Frannie again.

I lean down and kiss her forehead then let go of her hand. Or at least try to. But her eyes snap open and she holds tighter.

“Where do you think you’re going?” She’s half asleep, but the undertone of panic is undeniable.

There’s no fighting it. If she needs me to stay, there’s no way I can make myself leave. I smile at her. “Nowhere, if you don’t want me to.”

At first she smiles back, but then her expression changes. There’s confusion in her sapphire eyes and stamped all over her gorgeous face as she remembers that she hates me.

“I can’t trust you. You’re like this Jekyll-and-Hyde person,” she says, still holding tight to my hand.

I just shake my head as my brimstone heart breaks. The game is over and I’ve clearly lost—in every possible way. Because I love her. But I can’t have her.

I stand up, needing to get away from her before I do something to hurt her worse. This time she lets me go. “You’re right,” I say. “You can’t trust me.”

I heave myself up to sit on the edge of the bed, feeling shaky. I watch Luc walk out my door and know I should let him go. But my last shreds of better judgment and common sense give way to this primal need I have to be with him.

“Wait! Don’t go.”

He turns in the door. “Frannie, you’re making a huge mistake. You really need me to leave.”

I’m still shaking as tiny scraps of memory tease me. I remember going out to yell at Luc . . . but it wasn’t him. After that, it’s
all a blur. My eyes drop to the comforter and pick at the pilled surface. “Who was that guy?”

He leans on the doorframe, facing me. “His name is Belias. He’s dangerous.”

“Why was he here? What did he want?”

Luc just stares at me and shakes his head.

“He looks so much like you,” I finally say when it’s clear he’s not going to answer.

“Yes. I suppose that’s a product of where we’re from. We do tend to look alike.”

I lift my gaze and lock it with his. “And where is that, exactly? You always change the subject when I ask.”

He looks me in the eye for a long time as he contemplates his answer.

Finally, I roll my eyes. “If you have to think about it this long I know whatever you’ll say is bullshit. Just forget it.”

He turns to walk out the door again. “Sorry. But you wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” he says over his shoulder from the hall.

“I wish you’d try me.”

He turns back and steps slowly into the door with that same lost look on his face I’ve seen before. His mouth opens to say something but then closes again. He shakes his head. I stare at him, sure the answers are there, just under the surface, and I could see them if I look hard enough. He opens his mouth again, then his gaze drops to the floor and his shoulders slump as he says, “I really need to go.”

My heart pounds. I know I should let it drop, but there’s something else I need to know. “What about that girl? The one in your bed? Is she, like, your girlfriend from home?”

He lifts his gaze and watches me cautiously as he answers. “No. Actually, she’s Belias’s girlfriend, Avaira.”

I can’t control the jealous edge to my voice. “Hmm. So nice of him to share.”

“It’s not like that, Frannie,” he blurts. “They’re here for—” He stops abruptly, his eyes boring into mine. “She’s nothing.”

He drops his head and shakes it again, and I’m afraid he’s going to leave.

I bite back the next remark that pops into my head, which has something to do with Mystery Girl’s bra size being larger than her IQ. “So, if it’s not like
that
, what
is
it like? She was in your apartment—in your
bed.
Does she have a key?”

He just stares at me forever, eyes storming, then he walks fully into my room and drops into my desk chair, staring at the carpet. “No. She doesn’t have a key. No lock would keep her out.”

“What does that mean? Is she, like, stalking you or something?”

“In a manner of speaking.” He lifts his eyes to mine and, if I didn’t know better, I’d say I saw trepidation there. “There are things about me you don’t know.”

I scoot toward him on the edge of the bed. “I’m sure. So, tell me.”

He stares at me for another eternity, then leans his elbows on his knees and laces his fingers into his mop of black hair, staring at the floor again. “I’m not what you think I am.”

“I don’t think you’re anything.”

He lifts his head and almost smiles.

I cringe. “I didn’t mean that how it sounded. I mean I don’t really care what you are, I guess. Or something like that. So what don’t I know?”

He stands and takes my hand, pulling me off the bed and into his arms. I want to pull away but don’t.

He blows a sigh into my hair and groans.

I lift my face to look at him. “You can tell me.”

But instead, he gazes down at me with all kinds of promises in his eyes. Even though I know how stupid it is, and I know beyond a doubt that he’s going to hurt me again, I lean in to his kiss.

When I look back into his eyes, they’re still storming. “I haven’t been completely honest with you,” he says. Then he backs away and stares out the window. “Satan save me, I haven’t been honest with you at
all.
”

“Tell me,” I say again, stepping toward him.

He heaves another sigh and sags back into my desk, like holding himself up is suddenly too hard. Then his eyes raise and lock with mine, and he looks sullen but determined. “Belias, Avaira, me . . . ,” he says slowly, as if every word hurts him, “we’re all from—”

“Frannie?” Mom’s voice calls from the bottom of the stairs. It scares the hell out of me. How did I not hear her come in?

I jump and step back from Luc. “Yeah, Mom.”

“Is that . . . Luc’s car out front?” It’s like she has trouble even saying his name.

A nervous grimace dances across Luc’s face.

“Yeah, Mom.”

Her voice shoots up an octave, and I hear her feet hurry up the stairs. “Is he up there?”

“Yeah,” I say, grabbing his hand and pulling him to the door.

She’s at the top of the stairs, her eyes wide, when we step into the hall.

“Hey. We were just working on calculus homework,” I say, dropping his hand and willing the color out of my cheeks.

“Oh.” She’s all but glaring at Luc. “Wouldn’t you have more room at the kitchen table?”

Just then the back door slams and Grandpa’s sandpaper voice bellows through the house. “Hey! Whose Shelby’s parked out front?”

My heart soars. “Grandpa!” I squeal just as he appears at the base of the stairs. His blue eyes smile up at us.

“That would be mine,” Luc says.

“Restored or original?”

“All original.”

Mom steps aside and lets Luc pass by her. He nods and smiles—a soft, reassuring smile—as he passes.

“Who does your maintenance?” Grandpa asks as Luc makes his way down the stairs.

“I do.”

“She’s a beauty,” he says, slapping Luc on the back. “Mind if I take a look under the hood?”

“No problem.” Luc shoots a concerned glance back up the stairs and then heads out the front door with Grandpa.

“Why was he here?” Mom hisses. “We were clear. You’re not to see him—especially not alone.”

“Mom, please. You never said I couldn’t see him. I don’t know what your deal is with him, but I wish you’d cut him some slack.”

“Frannie, we’ve discussed this. Let me be perfectly clear. You are
not
going to date that boy.”

This is unbelievable. “You’re being so ridiculous.”

And you’re also too late.

I walk to my window and look out as Luc lifts the hood of the Shelby and he and Grandpa duck under it. What’s his deal?
Belias, Avaira, me, we’re all from . . . ?
What? What could be that bad? We’re all from jail? The loony bin?

What?

Outer space? The future?

I lean my elbows on the windowsill and watch him with Grandpa. Could he say anything that would change how I feel when I’m with him? I don’t think so. And, besides, he’s not the only one with secrets. God knows I’ve got some.

Like Gabe. Who I kissed. Who I’d kiss again.

I groan and drop my forehead into my hand.
What the hell am I doing?

I pull my forehead out of my hand and rest my chin on it. Luc looks up at me from the street, and I buzz all over.

Belias, Avaira, me, we’re all from . . .

I know nothing about him or about Gabe. They both came all out of nowhere and totally turned me inside out. Why can’t I stop thinking about them?

Belias, Avaira, me, we’re all from . . .

I’m not going to sleep well tonight. I can tell already.

“You’re killin’ me. This is a classic. How many miles?”

“Only about thirty thousand,” I answer.

He leans in to get a better look. “Holy Jesus. This baby’s
worth some serious cash. All original—and looks almost new. How long have ya owned her?”

“Bought it new.”

He lifts his eyes from the engine block and laughs out loud. “She was built before you were, son.”

Oh, yeah. “I meant my grandfather. He bought it in ’68.”

He nods to the ’65 convertible in the driveway. “Frannie could help ya with the maintenance. She’s the best vintage Mustang mechanic I know.”

I glance up at her window and smile when I see her, elbow propped on the sill and cheek resting in her hand, watching us. My need to be that hand—to touch her face—almost knocks me over. Satan save me, I can’t stand being this far from her. I force my eyes away from her, back to her grandfather.

“Really. That’s a tidbit that she didn’t share.”

He looks at me, all humor gone from his face. “I hope that’s not all she’s not sharin’.”

I draw a deep breath and look him in the eye. “Frannie is special. I’m not taking any chances with her.” Except almost letting Belias suck out her soul and trying to drag her into the Abyss. But other than that . . .

“She
is
special. Too good for any of you,” he says, gesturing vaguely in my direction with an elbow. And he has no idea how accurate he is. “Treat her right.” His eyes flit up to her window and back.

“You’re right. She’s much too good for me. I’ve tried to tell her that.”

He smiles. “But she won’t listen. She’s a stubborn one. Just like her grandma.”

“I won’t let anything happen to her,” I say.

He stares hard into my eyes. “I’ll hold ya to that. And if it does, ya know who I’m comin’ after.”

“Yes, sir.”

Then he takes me completely by surprise. “Do ya love her?”

I just stare at him for a long second. Something sharp twists in my gut, and I look up at Frannie in the window. As hard as I’ve tried to deny it, or at least convince myself that it didn’t matter, I know it as surely as I know I’m going to the Fiery Pit because of it. “Yes, sir.”

“Have ya told her?”

“No, sir.”

“When were ya plannin’ on gettin’ around to that?”

“Soon,” I say with a smile.

He smiles back. “Good.”