“I’m ready.” Calm and determined, he
stepped away from his friends.
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Andros tried one last time. “It will hurt.
You’re the last of your line and this will mean your death. I won’t be able to bring you back.”
“I said I’m ready. I want to do this. I
can’t live knowing I could have saved them and didn’t. This way, they live and
remember me.” A knot formed in his throat and he swallowed, but it stayed there as he looked at Andros. “Thank you for teaching me, for caring for me.”
Black eyes shining, the wizard nodded.
Jondi turned to the table with a deep breath.
The long silver knife stood ready, awaiting his hand. One last time, he turned to Andros and smiled. “Take care of them.”
Jondi stepped between his friends,
kneeling at their heads as they lay on the stone floor. His hand didn’t even shake as he sliced long lines across one arm of each.
Blood spewed from both but they never
flinched. Jondi jammed the knife into a
block of wood he’d laid there for just this purpose. Quickly, he ran both of his palms down the blade, scoring the blue until it parted in a searing double sea of red.
The powdered magic rock stung like fire
as he dipped his hands in the bowl but he didn’t scream. Instead, his voice was clear, 468
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loud and resolute as he repeated the written spell.
“Soul from my blood. Blood from my
soul.
Taint removed, now made whole.
Evil washed by pure white light.
Bind we three, by magick’s might.
Me to her and me to him,
Flow freely blood, yet my life dim.”
His bloody palms clamped across the two
pouring wounds in a thunderclap, and
enchantment erupted. Windago Mountain
groaned under the force and the howling
wind burst through the shutters. Vory
screamed. Thorn bucked. Jondi gritted his jaw and held tight.
Jondi watched in frozen horror as Thorn
cast off the protective spell in a massive outpouring of violence. Razor fangs hissed and spit before he tore into the flesh of his free arm. Once the red spray arced into the air, the bat lunged for Vory. Jondi couldn’t move, bound by coursing magic. He
couldn’t even scream as Thorn’s bloody
fangs opened wide and bit.
Chapter Eighteen
Livvy raced down the hall and slid into the room with her chest heaving.
“You cannot kill Jondi!”
John looked at her with hollow eyes. He
couldn’t do this. Not only would his readers revolt, he
was
Jondi. He was Thorn, too, and maybe Andros but Jondi—sweet, lovable Jondi—
embodied triumph over adversity. Livvy stared at him. An imaginary monster giving his life so his friends could live seemed so valiant and noble, but why? What was John trying to tell her? Maybe she was too hungover to grasp the concept, to read between the lines, but it felt like something was missing.
Did Thorn kill Vory? Was that his way of
punishing her in what he called Monsterville?
What did Thorn’s insanity mean? How could the series continue if Jondi were dead? Did Nordrake really win? John had to be setting up some magical save, an enchanted switch of some kind.
When he didn’t say anything, her heart fluttered to a stony stop.
He meant the gentle monster to die. Wasn’t that some sort of literary suicide?
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“I don’t understand you. How can you kill off part of who you are?”
The chair creaked as he stood. He avoided her eyes and sat on the edge of his desk. “I haven’t written the last chapters yet. Tell me, what did you see in the story?”
Livvy rubbed her temples. “I don’t know what you’re looking for, Murphy. I could see you wrote me as Vory. Jondi and Thorn are obviously parts of you. So I guess one part of you loved me, the other part… I don’t know. I got the whole Thorn-hating-Vory thing. Thanks, by the way. Nice move having him rip into me at the pivotal moment. I hope he gets pink-monster
indigestion.”
John shook his head. “Liv, Thorn doesn’t hate Vory.”
“Could have fooled me. But then, you’ve done that before, haven’t you?”
John cringed then looked at her. “I’m tired of us hurting each other, Liv. I love you.”
His words stomped on the pieces of her broken heart. “If that’s how you love, I think I’ll just pass.
Look, I read your story. Thank you for taking care of me last night but now I’m going home. I’ve got two days to finish packing.”
She made it to the end of the hallway before his voice reached her. “You promised you
wouldn’t leave me.”
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Her feet adhered to the floor, she felt him walk up behind her. When his hand brushed the loose hair off her shoulder, staying too long in the scattered tendrils that had escaped her elastic, she shuddered.
“Yes, I did. And you swore you wouldn’t be like my father. I guess we both lied. Sue me. Oh wait, you are.”
“No, Liv.” He turned her to face him. She couldn’t raise her eyes, instead focusing on the three flat buttons at his collar. “Did you mean to steal from me?”
She shoved his hand off her shoulder. “Of course not! I just…I didn’t think. They were trash scribbles, not your monsters. You said I could… I would have never touched… I should have known better. I know…knew how much…”
Despite the tightness of her throat, Livvy straightened her spine. Just deserts were never pleasant.
“I’m sorry, Murphy. I misunderstood. I pulled your work out of the line. I’ll tally the income based on any of them and make sure you’re reimbursed every penny plus a percentage of the total line. If that’s not enough, then you do what you have to. I’ll figure something out. You’re not the only survivor in the world.”
Why couldn’t she move? Her feet refused to listen to her brain and walk away. He stood so 472
Sweet as Sin
close she could see the weave of his shirt, the threads in the buttonholes, the shadow of his hand as it rose once more to her hair. Why couldn’t she leave him?
“Keep them. The sketches are yours, use them however you want.”
“No. I…I really need to cut all ties. I’ll make sure you get them back. I will say thanks again, though. It was your drawings that sparked the original idea of a Dark Cravings line. I just didn’t think… Using the drawings without confirmed permission was wrong. I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you.”
His thumb skimmed her cheek and she held her breath, bracing for his anger.
“I don’t care about some stupid sketchpad. I care about us.”
“
Us
is over, Murphy. You made sure of that.”
“I didn’t sleep with Emily, Liv. I wanted to push you away and you wouldn’t leave me. And bastard that I am, I knew that would do it, would hurt you enough to make you run away. So I lied.”
Numbness circled and her brain skipped. “I don’t believe you.”
That damn piece of folded white paper floated in front of her eyes and she averted her face. How was it possible to hate a scrap of stationary so much?
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“Call. I can’t ask you to trust me but just call the number.”
Her anger surged. “I don’t want to talk to your bitch.”
He said nothing, just held the paper out.
Muscles jumped along his jawline. Whether it was hope or fury that made her fingers snatch the paper she didn’t know, but she did, and then stalked to his bar. Her hands shook so badly it took two tries to dial the number. Through three long rings, Livvy silently cursed.
A voicemail clicked in. She listened to the entire message, staring at John. He’d crossed to the couch and sat waiting, fingers steepled. She lowered the receiver and walked to him, sinking onto the ottoman.
“A church? Emily is a minister? I don’t
understand.”
John raised his eyes and the regret there shocked her. “I panicked, Liv. I flat-out panicked and ran. I ended up at Alan’s old church, looking for…something, answers maybe, I don’t know.
Emily Standish is the pastor there now. She’s the Emily I saw, not… Liv, I didn’t cheat on you. I haven’t even thought about another woman, not for one second. But I knew what your father did.
So I lied, knowing even as I said it that it was a hurt you didn’t deserve. I’m sorry.”
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The ache in her chest eased, leaving only a hollow void. She believed him. But there were so many obstacles in her path she wasn’t sure which way to turn. So much bitterness existed between them. Yet when he slowly reached for her hand, she didn’t pull away.
“Why a church, Murphy? Why that church?
What were you looking for?”
His breath warmed the skin of her thumb as his fingers stroked her hand. Low and deep, like a storm’s warning rumble, the grief in his tone belied the bright sunshine streaming through the window.
“In the story, Nordrake’s Blood Curse? I lived that. For years, he crammed it in my head that I was stained, my soul was tainted, my blood the curse of demons. I know it isn’t real. God knows I spent three years listening to state-appointed psychiatrists tell me it wasn’t true.” John leaned back against the leather, his chest rising and falling too quickly.
Livvy didn’t think, she just moved beside him, curling one knee under her, holding tight to his hand.
“It’s like the year you learn that Santa Claus isn’t real. You know it. It makes sense. But somewhere inside you, you still have that little bit of hope left that maybe, just maybe, he
is
real.
Only for me, it wasn’t hope that got buried, it was Inez Kelley
475
fear. When you’re a preacher’s kid, or stepkid, you hear about hell a lot. It was as real to me as McDonald’s, Liv. More real than Santa ever was.”
Tears slowly dribbled off her lashes. He was telling her his story. Not the one in an army-green file, not the snatches and bits from a sibling, but his story, his fears, his pain. The shell he’d let crack before was wide open now and he was welcoming her inside.
“He said my mother wouldn’t have died if I hadn’t been born. Breast cancer was her
punishment for my life. But I could save Gina from being stained for sharing my blood by taking her punishments. And I did. I didn’t just think I was protecting her back, I thought I was
protecting her soul. Every hit, every bruise was excruciating but I was thankful for each one because it meant Gina wasn’t damned like I was.”
He leaned forward and covered his eyes with unsteady hands. She stroked his shoulder. His back trembled under her palm.
“I was a kid. I believed him. I know it’s stupid.
I know there is no such thing as Santa Claus or curses. But when Gina told me about…her
surgery, everything came back so hard. I felt like it was my fault. I started…I started wondering if maybe he was right.”
“Murphy, no.”
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He staring into nothingness. “I know better in my head, but that little fear inside just kept growing. I tried ignoring it, shoving it away. I didn’t want to believe it. I wanted to believe I wasn’t damned. And I wanted you. That’s when I realized how much I love you. I’ve never loved anyone so much. It scared me.”
She reached for him and he sat back. She laid her head on his shoulder, with his cheek pressed into her hair. “Everything snowballed. I got so…Ty got hurt. My story was going nowhere. I started losing it. And then…when I forgot the condom, it exploded. I couldn’t handle it. Even the remote thought of you… Liv, I’ve never considered being a father, okay? It’s just something I wasn’t willing to risk. If there was the smallest chance he was right…if my Mom died because she had me, then what would my baby do to you? I couldn’t risk it.”
Livvy let her silent tears dampen his shirt. Like Jondi giving his life for his friends, he was willing to give everything to keep her safe. As twisted and mixed-up as his thinking was, supercharged through the horror of PTSD, John had protected her out of love.
John in profile exemplified emotional
purgatory. His face, tilted upward by slight degrees, seemed to beg for mercy. With his eyes closed, he’d given his fears to the sunlight, but Inez Kelley
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sheltered them in blindness. He’d given them to her.
She kissed him. He kissed her back once, twice, three times before pulling her close.
“I’m sorry, Livvy. I’m so sorry. I hurt you so much. I can’t even say I didn’t mean to. I did. I tried to push you away and you wouldn’t leave.
All you kept saying was you loved me and would never leave me. God, Liv, you threatened to follow me to hell, exactly what I wanted to save you from. I just wanted you to go before
something happened.”
Smoothing his cheek, she felt the twitch
beneath his skin. “Nothing is going to happen.
Even if it does, it’s not your fault. Despite your overblown ego, Murphy, you can’t control fate.”
His scoff was sardonic. She offered a timid smile. His eyes dropped from her face to her neck.
The hand from her cheek slid down, caressing her throat. His thumb traced her windpipe. Disgrace furrowed his brows.
“I
made
you afraid of me. I wouldn’t have really hurt you, Liv. My mind was all screwed up.
I swear to God, I just wanted to scare you into leaving me. I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry too, Murphy. I wanted to be the one person who never hurt you and look what I did.”
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Sweet as Sin
murmured apologies. His hair trickled through her fingers like silk. Dipping her chin, she caught his mouth. A second chance at love tasted like sugar and salt.
“You saved me, Livvy. Keep the damn
sketches, whatever, I don’t care just…don’t leave me. I need you.”
“I’m here.”
The elastic holding her ponytail pulled hard as he burrowed his fingers into her hair but she didn’t care. “I promise I’ll never—actually I can’t do that so let me try this. I promise I’ll try, okay? I went to a doctor…a psychiatrist. I got some medication and… There’s no hiding I’ve got some problems, Liv. I know that. But I’ve got an appointment next week in Charlotte with