The Mephisto Covenant (8 page)

No wonder he smelled so good. She took a drink and didn’t want to give it back. Warmth spread through her like melted butter. She sipped again. “This is incredible.”

“Drink the rest. It’s nice, yeah?”

Her whole body was infused with warmth. “Are you sure this is just cider?”

“Real sure.” He was cheeky again. “And maybe a little magic.”

“Will it get me arrested?”

“Nope. Drink up, Sasha, and we’ll have some fun on the way down.”

She polished it off and handed him the flask. “Thanks, Jax.” He was so nice, which was unexpected. Most guys who were built and hot were way too into themselves to have a clue anyone else was alive, but he didn’t give off that vibe at all. He seemed almost humble, and just so . . . kind. The combination of his looks and his thoughtfulness was powerful, and she couldn’t help being a little bit attracted.

Who was she kidding? She had to make herself stop staring at him. And how weird was that? He wasn’t her type, at all.

Her last crush had been a thin, wiry blond guy with glasses: a band geek who played the clarinet and shared a lab table with her in chem 2. Tyler Hudson. No matter how much she tried to flirt with him, he never flirted back. They were great friends—and that’s all they were.

Tyler was the kind of guy she was attracted to. She didn’t go for big, muscular jocks.

Until now. Standing, she put her skis
back on and followed him out of
the forest, concentrating very hard, determined to loosen up, like he said. Incredibly, she managed to ski at least a hundred feet before she fell. Remembering to roll with it, she was back up and on her way pretty quickly. It got easier and easier. They were close to the bottom when he called, “You wanna ski another run?”

She couldn’t believe it, but she said yes. What was in that cider?

---

If Jax had ever had a better day, he couldn’t remember. Sasha was beautiful, funny, and she never gave up. Watching her gain confidence, discover that she could ski like anybody else, that she didn’t suck, and seeing the pure joy in her lovely blue eyes—it couldn’t get any better.

After the third run, she became very brave. Too brave. She took it into her head to ski off the main run, through a narrow loop in the trees that wound back to the main. He followed, freaking when he saw her get enough speed that she couldn’t take a turn. She fell and tried to roll with it, but she crashed against a boulder at a weird angle, catching her leg in the twist of her skis. He heard the bone snap, knew she’d broken it even before she did.

With his heart in his throat, he nearly hit the boulder himself, he was so frantic to get to her. Hurrying out of his skis, he rushed to kneel next to her and yanked his gloves off so he could gently untangle her skis, poles, and legs.

She lay in the snow, her gold hair spilling all around her, blinking up at him, obviously scared and fighting back tears. “I think maybe you should go for the ski patrol.”

“Maybe not.” He concentrated carefully before he laid his hands on her, just where her left fibula had snapped. Slowly, the bone knitted back together. When it was done, he looked into her face and saw exactly what he expected. Shock. Amazement. And fear.

“How did you do that?”

He’d have to erase the memory, as soon as possible. She’d forget the break and the healing, would think she’d simply fallen. She’d also forget seeing his eyes if he took off his shades.

Tossing them aside, he bent low, slid his hands into her silky hair, and kissed her. She tasted like caramel—salty and sweet.

It was several heartbeats before she kissed him back, and it dawned on him she was following his lead, mimicking him—just as she’d done all morning. She was as much a novice at kissing as she was at skiing. Seventeen, almost eighteen, and she’d never been kissed.

He hated himself for being such a sap, but there was something about being her first kiss . . . innocent, fantastic, beautiful. Kissing her, being this close to an Anabo, he knew for the first time how it might feel to be at peace. It was intoxicating. Impossible to move away. It took tremendous willpower to break the kiss, but he allowed himself to stay close and stare into her incredible eyes, the color of the sky at dusk, dark blue, lit from
within by the light of her soul. She stared back at him without flinching, without judging. Just like in San Francisco, she saw what was in his eyes and had no fear. Curious, maybe confused, but not afraid.

“Jax, who are you, really?” They were inches apart. “Who do you think I am?” “I . . . I don’t know, but lot
s of things in my life are very
strange right now, and I’m wondering if meeting you wasn’t just lucky coincidence, like I thought at first.”

“What if I told you I’ve been looking for a girl like you my whole life?”

“I’d think you’re either really corny, or you know something about me that makes me . . . uhm, different than other girls.”

He lowered his head until his lips were just next to her ear. “You’re Anabo.”

She stiffened and turned her head so they were nose to nose. “How do you know?”

“Knowing the Anabo is part of who I am.”

“Do you . . . is there any reason you have something against Anabo?”

He understood, then. She was worried he might take her to Eryx, if knowing who she was made him an enemy. “Because of what I am, the only girls I can be with are Anabo. Finding you is huge for me.”

She frowned a little. “So that’s the only reason you’re hanging out with me?”

“That’s the reason I approached you. I’m hanging out with you because I want to.”

They stayed like that, lying in the snow staring at each other, for a long time, until she whispered, “So Anabo is real?”

“Very real.”

Sasha kissed him again. She liked him, he was sure of it. If he stuck to the plan, would she like him more tomorrow? And the day after? Would she eventually fall in love with him? Could he ever love her the way he was supposed to?

He let his thoughts run wild, pushing forward to the day she’d accept him, claim immortality, and become Mephisto.

Like him.

Tearing his mouth away from hers, he scrambled to his feet and stared down at her, his breath coming sharp and fast.

She struggled to sit and blinked up at him, clearly confused. “Jax, what’s wrong?” Her gaze fell away, and she blushed. “It’s because I’m terrible at kissing, isn’t it?”

“No, Sasha, it was perfect.” She was perfect, a child of light. One in a billion. That he’d found her was amazing. That she was meant for him was a miracle. But in all his years of wishing and hoping to find an Anabo, he never once considered what had to happen for him to keep her. She had to become Mephisto, so the very thing that allowed her to be with him, he’d have to change. When it was over, when she was Mephisto, she’d be like him, always dogged by the dark side. The peace she knew now would be gone. How could he do that to her?

94

And yet, how could he not? His dark soul recognized the light of hers, craved it like a drowning man yearns for air. Every instinct drove him toward one goal—t
o claim her, keep her, make her
his, and ultimately to turn her to Mephisto. But instinct didn’t take into account emotion. He hadn’t considered, ever in his wildest imagination, that he’d have any hesitation.

Still, looking down at her lovely face, her wide, clear eyes, he couldn’t deny he felt like a monster, set upon sullying the princess, dragging her down to live in the muck with him.

What the hell was wrong with him? He couldn’t get all mushy and emotional about this. There was a lot more to her becoming Mephisto than just his own redemption. They needed her. More Mephisto meant fewer Skia and lost souls. She also had the ability to produce sons and daughters who would grow up to be Mephisto. If he couldn’t pursue her for his own sake, he owed it to his brothers, to humanity, to follow through.

His elation completely gone, he grimly made himself set aside guilt and put on his shades, then he cleared her memory of the last ten minutes.

She blinked rapidly, her expression bewildered. Looking down, she touched her leg, then her lips before she turned her face up to look at him. “I just had the weirdest déjà vu. Like I forgot breaking my leg, and you healing it, but then I remembered.” She shook her head as if to clear it. “You said, ‘Forget all after you fell,’ and I did, until I didn’t.”

He was short of breath, panicky and confused. Why hadn’t she lost the memory? This had never happened before. “I . . . you . . .” How could she still remember? She didn’t remember him from San Francisco, he was sure. If it had worked then, why didn’t it work now?

“How did you do that, Jax?” She stared up at him with wide eyes. “Why did you?”

Great. They’d been together all of three hours, and already he’d screwed it up.

four

sasha was seriously wigged out. jax’s ability to heal

her leg with just his hands made him extraordinary, but after he took off his shades, there was no doubt he wasn’t like other humans. Looking into his ebony eyes made her think about sad and scary things. Then he kissed her and she was so caught up in it, she thought only about how much she liked him, how perfect it felt to kiss him back.

Evidently, he didn’t feel the same way, and she was hurt and self-conscious. “Why did you try to mess with my head and make me forget? Was kissing me so awful, you wanted to erase my memory so I wouldn’t expect you to do it again?”

His brows raised above his shades. “Is that what you think?” If she weren’t more wounded than confused, she wouldn’t have said it. “What else can I think? You freaked out, like you regretted it, like you wished you could take it back.”

Stepping closer, he grasped her arms and pulled her to her feet, instantly warming her in the freezing snow. “If I regret anything, it’s that you think I’m a freak.”

“I know you’re not like other people, but you’re not a freak.”

Dropping his hands, he stepped back. “I’m sorry, Sasha. I was hopingyouandI...thatwecouldmaybe...look,Isuckat this, okay? All I know for sure is that I like you and I won’t try to make you forget anything again.”

“Why should I believe you?”

He looked away from her, toward the ski run. “You probably shouldn’t.”

She waited to feel righteous . . . compelled to put on her skis, head down the mountain, and never look back. He was bad news, she was sure of it. Why, then, did she stay right here, staring at him and thinking he was absolutely irresistible? Why did her mind keep replaying lying in the snow, his warm body against hers? Maybe because it had been her first kiss. Watching him turn to look at her again, she wondered if it really had been as amazing as she remembered.

Only one way to find out. Closing the distance between them, she bent her neck to look up at him. “Will you kiss me again?”

“If you’ll let me.” She reached up, slid his sh
ades from his face, and dropped
them to the snowy ground. He rested his hands against her
shoulders and looked as though
he was at war with himself before he pulled her toward him, bending his head until his mouth was close to hers. “Remember, you asked,” he whispered, right before he settled his lips against hers.

Just like before, his taste was the same as his scent—sweet, tart, and spicy, like mulled wine, spiced cider, hot tea—everything warm and wonderful.

But this kiss wasn’t like the first. Not sweet. Not gentle.

Maybe he wasn’t the boy next door, maybe he wasn’t even a real boy, but holy smokes, did he know how to kiss. This wasn’t his first rodeo. His hands slid into her hair to hold her head, angling her so he could deepen the kiss. His lips were so warm— almost hot. She stepped into him, her arms sliding beneath his jacket, around his back to cling to his red sweater.

“I never knew kissing could be this incredible,” she murmured against his mouth. The first one was perfect, but there’d been no open mouths, he’d not been so close that she could feel his chest rise and fall against her.

“It’s you, Sasha. You’re incredible.”

Her body took on a will of its own, pushing against him, aligning with his, trembling. Beneath her palms, the muscles in his back stretched and moved when he lowered his hands from her head and wrapped her up in his arms. He broke the kiss and pressed her head to his shoulder, resting his cheek against her hair. “I don’t know why you asked, but I’m glad you did.” She sighed, standing there next to him, inhaling his scent, and admitted she’d hoped it wouldn’t be good, that kissing him wouldn’t be amazing, that she had thought s
o only because it had
been her first time. Instead, she didn’t want this to end. “Tell me who you are,

Jax.” “Are you afraid?” He had the strangest eyes she’
d ever seen, he could heal with
the touch of his hands, and he could make people forget things, but not once since she’d met him at the top of the lift did she feel afraid. The opposite really. Being with him the past few hours had made her feel everything in her life wasn’t so depressing.

“You’re not answering. Does that mean you are afraid?” “No. Should I be?” He kissed the crown of her h
ead. “Never, Sasha. Never, ever
be afraid of me.” “Has this ever happened before? Someone not forgetting?” “You’re the first. But really, ho
nestly, it isn’t something I do
very often. I fixed your leg so you wouldn’t have to start school in a cast. I kissed you because I wanted to, and I took off my shades so I could see your eyes better. I don’t know why I couldn’t make you forget, but I swear I’ll never try it again.”

She wanted to believe him. “I should let go of you and walk away.”