Page 2 of The Devil

He took me in, made me feel safe for the first time in a long time and I betrayed him.

My heart pounds so hard it hurts. The sight of him, the scent of his aftershave, it crashes over me, clean and familiar and intoxicating. I’ve caught the scent on his shirts, his pillow, his skin. It makes my head spin.

A shiver ripples through me that has nothing to do with the cold inside this ancient stone structure.

Jet leans impossibly closer, eyes locked on mine as he inhales deeply. He is predator and I am prey.

“Did you really think you could run from me, Little Virgin?” he asks, whispered words low and dark, the vibration of them making the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.

He’s changed so much since that day I first met him four years ago. Although so have I. So have we all. But Jet’s transformation is something else. Something more. He’s not the man I went to for help back then. The day I naively asked him to give Allegra a message. There’s nothing left of that man here.

I search the deep emerald of his eyes, counting those hidden specks of gold, looking for that glint of amusement, the kind that promised mischief and made my belly flip. But it’s not there. It hasn’t been there for a while.

He’s darker now.

Harder.

Brutal even.

And that flipping of my stomach, it’s different too. Deeper. In the pit of me. A longing, an ache the scope of which, if acknowledged, scares the fucking shit out of me.

I shake my head to banish the thought and close my eyes to will him away. To magically make him disappear. But when I open them again, he’s still right there. Still watching me.

One corner of his beautiful mouth lifts, eyes narrowing further. He leans closer.

“Tell me, Little Virgin.” His gaze drops to my mouth momentarily. That tiny shift sends a traitorous rush through me, and I press my thighs together, hating myself for it. There’s something wrong with me but that’s not news. “Did you really think you could run from me?”

I take him in, read his face, those knowing eyes. This man he’s become, was this the real Jet all along? The true self revealed?

I shudder.

Father Abernathy raises his voice. The sermon is almost over. I didn’t hear a word. I look up at the altar to find his gaze fixed on us. From behind him two men step out of a small door and take their places beside it. They fold their hands in front of them. Jet brought backup.

How long has he known where I was? And what punishment does he have in store?

I hear the whispers of the parishioners as Father Abernathy makes the sign of the cross and tells us all to go in peace.

I don’t stand. Jet doesn’t allow me to. He and I remain seated as the dearly devoted noisily clamber out, sideways glances on us.

Only when the church is cleared do I turn again to face him. Only when it’s just us and his men and the few altar boys and Father Abernathy left inside this centuries old cathedral do I steel my spine and face him fully.

I take in the gray patch at his temple. It’s a stark contrast to the black hair. The scar of a bullet along his cheek. Compliments of my father. The sharp, cutting line of his jaw.

“How did you find me?” I whisper-ask, it’s all I can manage.

“What makes you think I ever lost you?”

1

AMAL

Three Months Earlier

Sybil, Cassian’s stepmother, clears her throat. The priest checks his watch. Cassian does the same before shifting his gaze to the closed door of the church, smoke practically coming out of his ears.

“Severin will stand in for Jethro,” Sybil says to the priest. “We don’t have all day.” That last part is added to let Cassian know how she really feels about having to attend his son’s, her step-grandson’s, baptism.

Severin, Cassian’s stepbrother, opens his mouth to tell her he will do no such thing, but Cassian beats him to it.