Sweet Evil (7 page)

I swallowed hard. “I promise.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

C
ONSEQUENCES

I
could not stop thinking about Kaidan Rowe.

I wondered exactly what it entailed to be the child of a demon. One without the balance of an angel side. He had been helpful and kind to me the night of the party, in his own brutish way.

Knowledge of what I was only fueled the fiery need within me to know more. I had so many questions. Patience was a virtue I’d never had a problem with until now. I needed to stay busy. Getting a job was first on my priority list.

I went to Paula’s Dairy Bar just outside of our neighborhood, within walking distance, and was hired on the spot. The owner’s only rules:
Smile. And don’t give away my ice cream for free!
Yes, ma’am. I could manage both of those.

I worked and tried to keep my mind occupied. I jogged every day, sometimes twice, read a lot of books, and spent time researching on the internet about angels and demons. I had no idea whether anything I read was true or if it was all just folklore.

A month passed, and I now had a couple hundred dollars saved. We were getting closer. But no amount of keeping busy could make me stop thinking about
him
. He was so near. I was sure he had at least some of the answers to my questions. But I had made a promise.

Patti was being her usual cautious self, but if Kaidan intended to hurt me, he would have done it, right? She was imagining him as something terrible, but if she met him, she’d see he was just a kid, only special, like me. I sat tapping the phone with my finger, debating, then picked it up and dialed.

“Hello?” he said.

“Hi, Jay.”

“Hey, princess of Popsicles! Queen of curlicue cones.”

“Nice alliterations.”

“Thank you very much. I try. So, what’s up with you?”

“Actually, I was wondering if, um...”

“
Yeeees?
” he said. I bit the inside of my lip.

“Is Lascivious playing anytime soon?” I blurted.

Complete silence.

“Jay? Hello?”`

“Sorry, I just passed out for a sec.”

“Very funny.”

“You wanna see Kaidan,” he teased.

I exhaled into the receiver. “Yes. I do. I want to talk to him. This is going to sound really random, but I think our dads might know each other.”

“Really? That
is
random. How do you figure?”

“Just some things he said when I talked to him, and some things I’ve found out from other people since then. Anyway, are they playing soon?”

“They’ve been playing venues around the state and in Alabama some. Let me hit up a few people and I’ll call you back.”

“Thank you.”

I hung up and walked around the apartment, straightening things here and there, trying to pass the time. I didn’t have any set chores. Patti and I always did whatever needed to be done at the time. I took out a duster and made my way around the house, barely noticing what I touched with it. When the phone rang, I dropped the duster on a shelf and ran.

“Hello?”

“Hey. They’re not playing around here for another two weeks, but I know their practice schedule.” Jay’s band-stalking tendencies were coming in handy. “They practice at Kaidan’s place. Greg says there’s this whole sweet setup in his basement for the band. According to Greg, Kaidan always has the house to himself.”

“Where’s his dad?” My stomach dropped at the thought of his demonic father.

“His dad works in New York City. He commutes in his own private jet. Crazy, huh? I don’t know how hard it’ll be to get into the band’s practice, but I can take you, just to see.”

That sounded horribly awkward, but it was all I had to work with.

“Okay,” I told him.

There were people pouring out of the front doors. Jay had gotten us through the Rowes’ private gate by telling the man on the speaker we were friends of Kaidan’s. Judging by the number of cars, a lot of people came to watch them practice. It looked like they’d had a miniconcert or a party. Jay stopped his car on the side of the circular driveway lined with vehicles. There was a fountain in the middle of the circle, directly in front of an enormous house made of gray stone, with hundreds of rose vines lining the giant arched doorway and windows. It was as close to a castle as I had ever seen, only there was no Prince Charming waiting inside.

“Want me to come in with you?” Jay asked.

“It might be better if I talk to him alone.”

“That’s cool. There’s this instrument store out here I’ve been wanting to see anyway. Just call me when you’re ready for me to pick you up.”

“’Kay, thanks.”

I got out and walked up to the door, passing people who were leaving. When I lifted my hand to knock, the door swung open. The lead singer of Lascivious, Michael, stood there in tight black jeans with a swanky girl under his arm.

“Practice is over,” he said, brushing past me.

“I just need to talk to Kaidan,” I said. He shrugged, walking away.

“Suit yourself,” he said over his shoulder. “He’s downstairs. Probably busy by now.”

I walked into the wide-open foyer filled with gleaming hardwoods and a grand staircase. I felt like an intruder as I followed the sound of voices through a dining room with elaborate china place settings, to an open doorway with carpeted stairs leading down. Two girls in miniskirts came up the steps, one of them stomping her feet and cussing as she went. Sounds of percussion began in the basement, following the girls upward.

“If you’re here to see Kaidan,” the angry one said, “don’t bother.” She pushed past me and continued a tirade against him as they walked away. “I am
never
calling him again.”

“Whatever,” her friend said. “You’ll be calling him tonight.”

I stopped, contemplating turning around and running from the house. The bang of each drumbeat coming up from the basement matched the deafening thud of my heart in my ears. I forced myself to move forward, and then down the steps one at a time. I stopped at the bottom and surveyed a basement that put Gene’s to shame. It was bigger than my whole apartment. I stepped into the massive room and closed the door behind me.

Part of the room to the right looked like a miniature movie theater, complete with three rows of leather stadium seating and a giant screen. Right in front of me in the middle was a tiki bar area with tall tables and stools straight out of a Hawaiian scene. To the far left were two long couches in front of a stage with speakers, microphones, and drums in the center. The drums were currently being used. And used very well, I might add.

He had headphones on. The straight lines of his face were stern with concentration as his arms flexed underneath the bright red T-shirt with each jarring crash of the drumsticks. The beat he created was impeccable. I was amazed by his ability to think just far enough ahead of the sounds in order to place each stick at the exact right place at the right time, all while moving his leg up and down on the pedal in synchronization. It all happened too fast for my eyes to keep up. I was overcome by the beauty of it. I’d never felt such longing. I wanted to... to envelop him, wrap him up. Make him mine.

It was a frightful, shameful desire.

With a final crash, the
ting
of cymbals was the only sound. He took the headphones off and dropped them at his side, standing up and looking at me.

“Well, if it isn’t little orphan Annie.”

He went behind the bar and took a bottle of water from a large fridge. He drank half of it in one gulp, while I stood there unmoving, then tossed the bottle onto the bar and pulled a silver item from the pocket of his jeans. With a fast flick of his wrist, it opened into a blade. My heart stammered. He watched me watching him, twirling the open knife between his fingers. Who played with knives?

In a few easy strides, he closed the distance between us and was in front of me, very close, with his head cocked to the side. I seemed to amuse him, for some reason. But then his face went cruel, and his empty hand rested against the wall above my shoulder. Our faces were inches apart. His eyes held me frozen in place. I was very aware of the knife at his side, held in his other hand. Coming here had been a massive mistake.

“What do you want?” he growled.

“I just want to talk.” I tried to keep my voice steady. “You don’t have to try to scare me.”

He kept a straight face, and his tone was seductively low. “There’s hardly any room for fear when you’re so bloody turned-on.”

A flash of shock hit me at his audacity. His eyes lowered to my body, but he never moved away.

“Ah, there’s anger now,” he said coolly, “and a bit of embarrassment.”

He was reading me—reading my colors! And I couldn’t see his at all. I felt stripped bare before him, vulnerable. I concentrated on why I’d gone there to begin with.

“I know what we are now.” I wished my voice weren’t shaky.

“Congratulations.” He stood over me for a second more, savoring his power, no doubt, and then walked away, tossing the knife in the general direction of the dartboard and hitting the bull’s-eye. Never missing a beat, he swaggered to a white couch with oversize pillows. He fell back onto it, propping his big, black boots on the white cushions and lounging back with arms spread wide across the back of the sofa. He stared as if daring me to talk.

I had no idea what to say or do. I didn’t know anymore why I’d come. Had I just wanted to barge in and say,
Ha, I know what we are!
and then demand information?

His face tilted upward with a jerk and his eyes lost their focus, as if listening to something far away. He jumped up from the couch and rushed toward me. I tried to step back, but he grabbed my shoulders, pressing his lips hard against my ear.

“My father is here!”

Fear paralyzed me.

A demon. A real demon was here, right now. I hadn’t factored in this possibility. I’d thought he would be in New York. I wanted to run, but Kaidan pulled me toward the couch and pushed me onto the cushions. He ripped open the front of my blouse, and I sucked in a breath to scream.

Kaidan put a finger hard against my lips to shush me, then grabbed a blanket from the arm of the couch and threw it at me. He swiped his own shirt over his head and motioned for me to take mine off. I didn’t know what was going on, but fear prompted me to follow his lead, wiggling out of my shirt while keeping my chest covered by the blanket.

Kaidan leaned over me. Oh, my gosh. A half-naked half demon was burying his face in my neck! His hot, smooth shoulder pressed against mine. A thrill of pleasure shot through my confusion and fear. I felt the heat of his mouth on my shoulder, and gripped the couch cushion with my hands to keep them from going where they wanted to be, which was anywhere on him.

When the basement door was flung open I let out an involuntary yelp. Kaidan pulled away a tad, but stayed in front of me, turning his head to the door.

“Father.” Kaidan addressed him in a subdued, respectful tone.

I peered under Kaidan’s arm at the tall man who stood there wearing a black suit with a baby blue tie that matched his eyes. His hair was darker than Kaidan’s, cut shorter, and gelled back with a gentle wave. He had a red starburst three times the size of his son’s. The handsome demon man smiled lightly as he took in the sight of the two of us. It even seemed as if he sidestepped to get a better look at me. I pulled up the blanket that had slipped down and revealed my bra.

“My apologies, son. I didn’t realize you had company.” As he moved toward me to eye me more closely I could have sworn his eyes flashed red for an instant. His voice chilled the room. “I never imagined you’d care to entertain female Nephilim.”

“I don’t normally.” Kaidan stood now and moved away from me. “She caught me while I was bored and alone after practice.”

His father sniffed and wiped his nose, as if there were an unpleasant odor in the air.

“You will come up for tea. Both of you.”

He turned and went up the stairs. Kaidan closed his eyes and balled his fists at his sides. My heart was hammering. I rushed to get my shirt back on, pushing clumsy arms through the sleeves, and was horrified to see two buttons had popped off in the middle. I held it shut with trembling hands. Kaidan picked up his red T-shirt from the floor and tossed it at me. I turned away from him and switched shirts. His was gigantic on me, but it was better than exposure. I tried to ignore the fact that it smelled like a total dream: woodsy and citrusy and masculine.

I followed Kaidan up the stairs, attempting to convince myself that having tea with a demon and his knife-slinging son was nothing to be scared about.

We came to a formal living room, where Kaidan’s father sat in an armchair and motioned for me to sit on the love seat nearest him. Kaidan leaned against the wall with his arms crossed over his bare chest. His father looked up at him and chuckled low.

“Look at my boy standing there,” he said to me. “Such a caveman. Son, find a shirt and join us.”

Kaidan walked out as a woman came in carrying a tray with a delicate tea set. She poured three cups of steaming tea, and then looked to Mr. Rowe for approval. He gave her a crooked smile, causing her aura to redden, and then he nodded her away with a pat on her bottom before returning his attention to me. Gah!

“What is your name?”

My throat was too dry to answer on my first attempt, so I swallowed and tried again. “Anna.”

“Anna, my name is Pharzuph, but among humans I go by Richard Rowe. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a badge so unusual.” He stared at my chest with a bit too much interest, and I had to refrain from crossing my arms. Kaidan came back in wearing a black shirt and sat on the love seat, keeping clear distance between us.

“Do I recognize the color of Belial?” Pharzuph asked. I didn’t like how he spoke, as if he were practicing his lazy, sexy drawl on me.

“I... I’m sorry?” I asked.

“Belial is your father’s dark angel name,” Kaidan explained.

“Surely she knows that,” Pharzuph scoffed. But as he looked at me he got that same look of confusion Kaidan had worn the night we met.

I coughed and swallowed again, keeping my breathing even in hopes of calming my aura. I wanted to take a drink of the tea to wet my throat, but I didn’t want to spill it.