Redemption (21 page)

Mara stood on the edge of the lake and chewed her nails, watching Bryan and Cassidy as they skated. He smiled at her - a lot. She smiled at him - a lot. This would never do. There was no doubt about it - he was falling for her. The girl was too much of a goody-two-shoes to act on anything she felt from him, especially since he’d mentioned having someone back in California. This fact would work to her advantage. She narrowed her eyes at the pair; Bryan was
hers
.

She couldn’t simply show up, acting like a possessive, jealous girlfriend, though. No, she had to time her arrival perfectly. She had to find the precise moment when her presence would do the most damage to the girl. They could have some more time together. Meanwhile, Mara would make sure she found a way around Bastion’s wards. The angels were all over the hallway, guarding him. It was doubly difficult if the girl was around. Her angel seemed like he wanted nothing more than to sink his sword into Mara’s flesh. She frowned. Another unpleasant thought.

If she could gain greater access to Bryan, she could begin pulling him back to herself. She couldn’t understand how it had been possible for the girl to influence him so greatly in such a short number of days. Mara recognized that time might be running out, but she wasn’t out of the game yet.

“She’s a beauty, Mara,” a voice behind her murmured. “Are you sure you can handle this?”

Mara spun around, prepared to defend herself. Of all those he could’ve sent, she never imagined Lucifer would’ve chosen him. “Sent to spy on me, Rhys? Is that what you’ve been doing all these years while you shared my bed? Spying, getting information?”

He stood taller than Mara, also one of the fallen. Rhys had retained a portion of his former beauty; however, the Fall had affected his in a way that it had not affected hers. What was once a passion for life became an obsession for destruction. The need to have, to consume and never feel fulfilled, now drove him. His dark eyes alternately looked wild and crazed, or sad and despondent, and despite his moodiness mortals found him difficult to resist. Long, wavy brown hair fell to his shoulders. Rhys always dressed like a rock star, and Mara had to admit that she thought he carried the look well. The Demon of Passion. The only outward mark the Fall left on his face was a scar that ran from temple to chin on the right side. Mara had never minded the scar; she had plenty of her own.

“Don’t pretend to be upset, Mara, it’s not attractive on you,” Rhys said. The demon tilted his head from side to side, examining her, and shrugged. He ran a finger up her arm. “And I haven’t come for the sole purpose of spying. I’ve missed you. Lucifer is, understandably, unsure of your ability to finish the job. You seem to have grown attached to this one, Mara. If it should appear that you will fail, I’ve been ordered to step in.” His eyes grew even darker while he spoke.

“I won’t fail,” she paused and crossed her arms. “What do you have planned?”

Rhys smiled sinisterly. “Should apathy not be enough to destroy him, perhaps passion will.”

“Leave him alone, Rhys,” Mara snarled. “He’s mine, and I will take care of this.”

He leaned forward, lifted a lock of her hair to his nose, and, inhaling her lotus-drenched scent, he sighed. “I certainly hope you’re right, Mara. It would be such a shame if I was never again able to feel you.”

“Rhys,” she lowered her voice seductively, “you have
nothing
to worry about. I assure you; I have not grown attached to the mortal. Once I have taken care of this little problem, you and I will have plenty of time together.”

He stepped closer, pressing the full length of his body against hers; and the hand that had been in her hair now found its way to her throat. He squeezed, threatening to crush her windpipe with just five fingers. His other hand reached for the dagger she kept hidden in the strap on her thigh. He tossed it aside as a lopsided smile formed on his lips. Mara gasped for air.

“Have fun with your little moral, Mara. Enjoy him for the time being. But never forget who you really are. Remember
whose
you really are,” he said, and crushed his lips to hers.

After kissing her, Rhys released Mara and vanished. Coughing, she wrapped her arms around herself and closed her eyes. He wouldn’t really hurt her, not after all the time they’d spent together. Would he?

Of course he would. For some reason that was lost to her, Mara was thinking on human terms. Rhys was like her: a demon. Sharing her bed meant nothing to him other than ownership and the privilege of having her whenever he felt the need. It wasn’t like when she was with Bryan. There wasn’t any real emotion in what she had with Rhys.

Mara wiped away another tear - the second one in the past few weeks. Something was happening to her. Demons never cried. Demons never felt emotion. Yet, here she stood, watching the man to whom she knew she’d formed emotional ties, the one she knew she’d been sent to destroy, as he looked longingly at another woman. Her heart was filled with jealousy. Mara’s eyes glowed red. Rhys was right; she needed to remember who she was.

 

Meanwhile, Bryan and Cassidy continued to skate around the lake, oblivious to the danger that stood on the banks watching their every move. Like a shark preparing to devour its prey, Rhys licked his lips while he gazed upon Cassidy. Mara would amuse herself for a time with the mortal man; and while she was distracted, what was there to stop him from having some fun of his own with the little blonde? Certainly not her angel. He snorted at the idea of Luscid being able to do anything remotely harmful and walked off toward the road in search of some entertainment while he waited for his opportunity with Cassidy.

“I
’m pretty impressed by those moves of yours,” Bryan said.

“Well,” Cassidy began, “I’m a pretty impressive person. Ask around, you’ll find that most people would agree.” She smirked. It was becoming all too easy to return his flirting, to pretend to be his Cassidy, to dig herself a hole from which it would be all the more difficult to climb.

The sun was setting, temperatures were dropping, and as much as Cassidy might want to prolong her time with Bryan, she was simply starting to freeze. Her teeth chattered noisily.

Feeling her shiver, Bryan asked, “Time to go?”

“I think it might be. This was fun, though. Thanks,” she answered, smiling up at him. “I needed this.”

“Glad I could be of service,” he said.

Although they’d stopped skating, Bryan was still holding her hand. Reluctantly, he released it and dug in his pocket for his keys. Not having some contact with her left him feeling an emptiness that he’d begun to think was moving behind him. It was an emptiness that left him feeling dark, hollow, and very much alone. The thought of returning to the hotel was suffocating.

“How about something to drink?” he asked, hoping she’d say yes.

“I could go for something warm, hot chocolate or tea. Let’s go back to my aunt and uncle’s house. I’m sure they have things there,” Cassidy answered.

Surrounded by Carrie, Nick, and Mr. and Mrs. Mayer wasn’t exactly what he’d had in mind, but if it meant more time with Cassidy, he’d do it. “All right.”

When they turned onto Carrie’s street, they were passed by a black, four-door Jeep. Bryan grimaced as his eyes met Derek’s. There was a tentative truce between them, but the guy still made his gut tighten and his fist follow suit. He pulled into the driveway to find that Nick’s car was, in fact, parked there.

“We’ve got company,” he muttered.

Cassidy patted him on the arm. “You’re a big boy, Bryan. It’ll be just fine. Come on, let’s go.”

They started up the walk when Bryan reached for her hand to stop her. Without further warning, he spun her back toward himself in a sort of dance. What was with this guy and the spinning? He was constantly turning her in circles, which was precisely how he made her feel inside - a mixed up, whirling spiral of emotion. Thankfully, she was able to go with the turn, recover, and stop herself from falling.

“Whoa, what was tha-” her words were abruptly cut off as he bent to kiss her.

“Audience,” he murmured against her mouth, a smile teasing his lips, thankful for any excuse to kiss her again.

Cassidy looked toward the window to see Nick standing there, arms crossed, expression very concerned. She waved to him and turned back to Bryan. “We’ve got to make it as believable as possible, right?”

“Of course,” he replied, smirking.

She opened the front door, and they hung their coats in the hall closet before going into the kitchen. Her aunt and uncle were at the table reading the paper, doing a crossword, and drinking coffee. They looked up immediately when the pair entered the room, and her uncle stood to hug her.

“You’re freezing! Bryan, where did you take my niece that she’s so frozen?”

“Hi, Mr. Mayer,” he began, shaking the older man’s hand. “We were ice skating. Her idea.” Bryan raised his hands up in surrender as he spoke.

“Don’t give Bryan a hard time, Unc,” Cassidy said, elbowing her uncle. “Besides I’m fine. See? I can move all of my fingers, and I even still have each of my ten toes.”

“Well, you two certainly need something warm,” Mrs. Mayer suggested.

“That’s exactly what we thought,” Bryan said. Without thinking about it, he took Cassidy’s hand in his own, not because they were pretending to be a couple, but because he liked the way her fingers fit his. She didn’t tense or pull away, and the weight of her hand in his felt natural and right, but he figured that was just because he wanted it to.

The movement wasn’t lost on her aunt and uncle, who exchanged glances before turning their attention to either the paper or the tea kettle. No one seemed to like the idea of the two of them together. Cassidy wondered what Nick and Carrie had told them about the night before. She bet that Carrie wove a tale of love that would rival any daytime soap. She shook her head. It would explain why her aunt and uncle looked like she might be stolen away at any point in time.

The couple joined them only moments later, the look on Carrie’s face confirming everything that Cassidy had thought.

“Hey, guys,” Carrie said, smiling slyly as if she knew a secret to which no one else was privy.

“Hi,” Cassidy repeated, her tone flat. She knew her cousin was up to something, and that most likely meant digging for information, or playing matchmaker, or finding another way to completely humiliate her or send Bryan running in the opposite direction.

“You left the church so quickly. We thought maybe something was wrong,” Carrie continued.

“Nothing was wrong, Carrie,” Bryan said firmly.

“All right, just figured I’d check.” Carrie eyed him suspiciously. She turned her attention to Cassidy and continued her line of questions.

They
were
digging, Carrie with her nosiness and Nick with his presence. Bryan could tell it made Cassidy nervous as he watched her fidget with her tea. He thought for a second about how much he really hated tea. The whole concept of the drink was disgusting with the way it leaked into the water, turning it brown and muddy. He pushed his mug aside, having lost all desire for it; anyway, he’d only taken it to be polite. It was incredible how quickly his mood changed. Now that the inquisition had begun, all he wanted to do was leave. Whatever he’d felt with Cassidy was gone, and he didn’t want to stick around to subject himself to the curiosity and stares of the rest of those present.

He leaned over to her and spoke softly, “I’m going to get out of here, too crowded. Call you later.” He kissed her cheek, pushed his chair away from the table, and stalked toward the front door to get his coat, becoming angrier at their intrusion with each step he took.

“Hold up, Bry,” Nick called, following after him.

Bryan stopped, his hand on the doorknob. He leaned his head back and took a deep breath before turning around. “What is it, Nick?” he asked, clearly annoyed.

“Outside,” Nick began, “not where the others can hear us.”

They walked out to Bryan’s Jeep and stopped. Bryan turned, arms crossed, and waited. Nick seemed to be considering how to proceed, and Bryan had no interest in helping the guy out. He’d approached Bryan, not the other way around; so he was the one who had a problem that needed discussing. Nick narrowed his eyes, and Bryan waited for whatever was coming.

“What are you doing?” Nick asked, more abruptly than he’d intended. “You’re leaving after the wedding, which is only a few days away. What is this thing with you and Cassidy? Are you trying to get back at Miranda?”

“Am I what?” Bryan straightened up from where he’d been leaning against the Jeep and took a step toward Nick. “Cassidy has
nothing
to do with Miranda,” he growled. “I like being around her, and for some reason I can’t understand, she likes being around me, too. We’re just hanging out, getting to know each other, and,” he took a step toward Nick, “if you bring Miranda into this again, I’m going to forget that I consider you a friend.”

“You’ve got to understand, Cassidy is family. And you’re-”