Try Me (22 page)

Did it make me a total dork that I thought that was incredibly cool and sweet, a real boyfriend-like thing to do?

He kissed me on the cheek. “See you later."

The two hellhounds, who had been dozing under the table after their meal, raised their heads. I WANT TO BRING FANG WITH US, Princess said. SHOW HIM MY HOME.

I glanced at Fang. “It's up to you. We won't be working today, so you're free to do whatever you want."

I GUESS I'LL DO WHAT PRINCESS WANTS, THEN.

He didn't sound all that thrilled, but the alternative was hanging out around here, waiting for trouble to come to us. Not exactly exciting. “Can you get them both on your Ducati?” I asked Shade.

"Actually, Micah took my bike home and brought back my car, so it should be no problem."

"Okay, good.” Though it seemed strange that I didn't even know where he lived or what kind of car he drove.

The rest of the morning, I spent more time than I would like to admit daydreaming about Shade, but that wasn't productive, so I decided to get something done.

It took hours to read through everything Rick had given me on my ancestors. On my mother's side, I didn't find anything out of the ordinary at all. My father's side was a different matter. There wasn't a lot, mostly birth and death certificates, along with a family tree and some newspaper clippings, including obituaries.

Weird. The Shapiro lust demons didn't reproduce much. My great-grandfather was the full incubus demon in my family. He died at an unspecified age, estimated at twenty-five, and was killed by a jealous husband whose wife he had seduced. The obituary suggested he was a philanderer and the world was better off without him. His origins were unknown, and he didn't have any known family except for his only child, my grandfather.

My grandfather wasn't quite as bad, being only half incubus, but he was no saint either. He was widely known as a Casanova with the ability to charm any woman into bed. He died at the age of twenty-seven, killed by the father of a girl he seduced. He also had only one child—my father. And my father, of course, died at the age of twenty-three, having killed himself. He had only one child—me. No one commented on their unusual strength, speed, or healing powers, and the women in that line were totally normal except for carrying the offspring of incubi.

Confused, I set the papers down. Could I have more than one child? Did I want one at all? More importantly, should I try? I was too young to think about it yet, but I might want children some day. Having a child who was only one-sixteenth incubus or succubus didn't seem too awful, but what if I ended up marrying someone like Shade? What would happen if two different kind of demon genes mixed? A shadow lust demon? I wouldn't want to inflict that on any kid. Better look into birth control, fast.

Then again, would I even live long enough to have a kid? Life expectancy wasn't very long in the Shapiro demon line . . . Was this a curse of the Shapiros? To die an early death because of the demon inside them?

No. I wouldn't accept that. If my demon side was almost too strong for me to handle, imagine that doubled, quadrupled . . . No wonder my ancestors succumbed to the incubus within. Their deaths were a natural consequence of their inability to keep the demon zipped inside. Besides, hadn't Micah's father lived into his forties? Micah had never said what he died of.

Gwen said I could use her computer whenever I wanted, so I checked out the Internet. Lucas Blackburn's obituary said he'd died in a car accident at the age of forty-seven. Nothing supernatural about the drunk driver who'd killed him, and I couldn't find any mention of anything peculiar about Lucas anywhere else on the Internet. He knew how to keep his demon under wraps and had taught Micah to do the same. Maybe I should listen to Micah's advice.

Sighing, I pushed away from the computer. Another dead end. Frustration seemed to be the rule in my life lately. Frustrated in finding out where my extra abilities came from, frustrated in finding the books or the thief who stole them, and frustrated in . . . well, let's just say Shade had a lot to do with that last one.

My phone rang. Thank goodness—something to do. I answered it. It was Dan, checking on us, as promised. From the sound of the noise in the background, he was at the hospital. Since he didn't sound stressed, I assumed he was visiting Nicole again. I felt only a small pang of regret. Dan was better off with someone fully human, like himself. “Everything's fine here,” I assured him. We discussed the possibilities for a few minutes and Dan asked, “You're sure this Andrew kid isn't the thief?"

"I'd like him to be, but Fang cleared him. It has to be someone else."

"Maybe."

"Hey, did the SCU forensics people find anything at the store?"

"No. Too many members of the general public had passed through there, and there were no prints on the fire alarm."

Well, crap. “Okay, thanks. I'll let you go.” I couldn't help but rib him a little. “Tell Nicole I hope she's doing better."

"I, uh . . . oh, okay."

He sounded embarrassed and a little guilty for spending time with her. Well, I wasn't above feeling a little pleasure at his guilt. Grinning, I hung up.

Now what? I didn't have to stick around to wait for Dan anymore, and I wasn't sure what time Gwen would be home. I surfed the ‘net awhile, shopping for stuff to go in my room and spending way too much money. So I was really glad when the doorbell rang, hoping whoever was there would provide a cure for my boredom.

Mood was there, her eyes glowing purple with distress as she supported Josh with one arm around his waist and the other holding his arm around her neck. His head lolled, and at first I thought he was drunk . . . until I saw the scrapes, cuts, and bruises all over him. “We need Shade,” she said, sounding as upset as she looked.

I helped her half-walk, half-carry Josh to the couch. He collapsed there and groaned.

I knelt beside him. “What happened, Josh? Who did this?” Had the thief targeted another demon?

"Fault of . . . vamps,” Josh muttered.

Oh, crap. “Do you know which ones?” I pressed.

But the effort must have been too much, for Josh passed out. Mood looked stricken. “Someone beat him up yesterday. It's really bad, and he won't go to the hospital. I'm afraid he's going to die.” Her voice broke and the tears came, pouring silently down her face. She stared around the room. “Where's Shade? He has to heal Josh."

"He's not here, but I'll call him.” This wasn't exactly what I pictured using his phone number for, but it was an emergency.

When he answered, I said, “Shade, can you come now? Josh is hurt bad and needs your help"

"I'm on my way."

Tears stained Mood's face, making her black and purple eye makeup blotch and run. “It's okay,” I assured her. “Shade will be here soon."

He must not live far away, because he knocked on the door within fifteen minutes. I let him and the two hellhounds in. Fang and Princess slipped out the back, Fang muttering something about being in the way and finding some squirrels to chase.

I pointed wordlessly to the couch. Josh had regained consciousness, and though he couldn't—or wouldn't—tell us who had done this to him, he did open up enough to tell Shade where it hurt.

"I'm afraid there may be some internal damage,” Shade said. “I can heal him, but it'll hurt quite a bit, Josh."

"Can't . . . hurt more . . . than it does . . . now,” Josh gasped out.

"Okay. I'll need someone to use as a template, so the healing energies know how a healthy body operates."

"Me,” Mood said immediately. “Use me."

"Are you sure?” Shade asked. “I'm only the conduit for the energy, but when you act as the template, you two will share a lot more than energy—thoughts, history, emotion. Are you ready to reveal everything about yourselves to each other?"

Mood turned even paler and glanced guiltily at Josh. I understood that look. The poor girl had a huge crush on him, and he wasn't even aware of it. “I can do it,” I said softly. “I've done it before.” It wasn't fun, but at least I didn't have any secrets to keep from the guy.

Josh recoiled, then grimaced at the pain. “No. Mood, please?"

She stroked the hair back from his forehead. “Of course, Josh. I'll do this for you."

Guess he didn't want to know the depths of the Slayer's heart. I couldn't blame him and, to tell the truth, it didn't hurt even a little to be unwanted. I just felt relieved that Mood was the one who would share everything with him.

Shade had Mood sit in a chair next to the couch and he knelt between them. “I'm going to place my hand on the back of your neck,” he told them. “Are you ready?"

They both nodded. “Try to stay conscious and endure it as long as you can,” Shade told Josh, then slipped his hands inside their collars to touch bare skin. He blipped into focus and I could tell when he started because Mood and Josh both stiffened. Josh's body bowed in agony and his mouth opened in a soundless scream. Mood looked stunned, apprehensive, and disbelieving all at once.

It was too painful to watch them, so I turned my attention to Shade instead. The last time he'd done this, I was the template and hadn't really noticed what was going on with the conduit. Once every second or more, Shade flipped to swirls, and harsh flickers of violet lightning pulsed through him, flashing from Mood to Josh. That must be the otherworldly healing energy he was using, but it looked like a raging storm inside the shadow demon.

Shade had told Dan and me it didn't hurt him, but the way he grimaced, his teeth bared and his head thrown back, it sure didn't look like a walk in the park. Then again, maybe it wasn't pain. Maybe he was just concentrating really hard.

I remember the whole process had seemed to take hours, but this only took a few long, agonizing minutes as Josh's wounds, cuts, and scrapes visibly healed. Shade released him abruptly. Josh fell back, passed out, but looked a hundred times better than he had before.

Mood put her hands over her face and burst into tears.

"It's okay,” Shade told her tightly. “He's healed now."

Feeling I needed to do something, I said, “If you want to talk . . . “

But Mood just shook her head, then ran out the door, slamming it behind her.

Whoa. “I guess she learned exactly how Josh feels about her."

Shade stood up and slipped his hood up over his head. “He lost his girlfriend not too long ago. Hasn't gotten over her yet."

His voice sounded strained. “Are you okay?"

"Fine.” But when he turned to walk, he staggered a little and caught himself on the couch.

"Yeah, right."

I hurried around the couch and tried to help him, but he jerked his arm away. “Don't touch me."

I backed away, palms out. “Whoa, dude. Just trying to help."

"I know.” He bent his head and crossed his arms across his chest. “I'm . . . not stable right now."

What did that mean? I didn't remember this happening last time. Then again, he'd left pretty fast after he'd healed Dan, and I was far more concerned about other things then. “You don't look like you can walk, let alone drive. Why don't you lie down in my room?"

"Okay."

He stumbled toward my room and I went before him to clear his path and open the door. Though I was careful not to touch him, I couldn't help but wonder what the heck was going on. Once Shade was horizontal, and lying on his back, I closed the door and stepped toward the bed. “What can I do to help?"

"Nothing."

Well, that sounded final, not to mention rude. Now I was confused. After all, we were supposed to go on our first real date tonight, and this didn't seem like the Shade I knew at all. Then again, how much did I really know about the shadow demon? I thought for a minute, wondering what to do.

I should grant him his secrets.

I should respect his privacy.

I should leave him alone.

To hell with shoulds. I wanted answers.

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I plopped down on the floor next to the bed. “I think I deserve an explanation."

"Go away, Val,” he said, his voice sounding tight, like he'd gritted the words through his teeth.

I wished I could see his face, but it whirled with dark energy swirls. Strange. They were moving a lot faster than normal, and seemed shot through with virulent purple. “Not gonna happen. You helped me with Lola. The least I can do is help you with this.” Whatever “this” was.

From the way my comforter bunched up under his fist, it looked like he was gripping it with all his might. I closed my hand over his fist and he popped back into focus, his face contorted into a snarling mask of demonic rage. I reared back for a moment, finally noticing the long, sharp blade in his other hand, pointed toward his own neck. What the—

I wrestled the knife away from him and tossed it into the corner, then clamped down on his fist again. I realized the rage wasn't directed at me. In fact, it looked like Shade was battling hard against something internal. Or against something in another dimension, maybe?

He tried to throw off my hand, but I wouldn't let him. Without letting go, I got up on the bed next to him. “Shade, what's happening? Talk to me.” This was beginning to scare me.

He whipped his head away from me, trying to hide his raging agony in my pillow. With my other hand, I cupped his cheek, hoping to reassure him.

"Don't!” He sat up abruptly and shoved me off him, off the bed, and onto the floor. I could hear him breathing hard as he turned away from me and curled into a fetal position.

Stunned, I sat there for a moment on my aching butt. What the hell was going on? Whatever it was, I was pretty sure Shade wasn't in control of himself right now. Was this the shadow side of his demon? I could sympathize. When Lola took control of me, I wasn't always responsible for my actions either.

Speaking of Lola, maybe she could help him. Heck, she ought to be good for something. I got up and sat down gently on the bed, trying not to touch him and set him off again. Reaching down deep inside, I encouraged Lola to come out and play. She really liked Shade, so this should be a no-brainer.