What a Demon Wants (14 page)

Jude caught her hand to stop her. She was taking on her father’s criticisms as if they were real flaws. They weren’t. She needed to know that.

“His opinions about those things are just that, his opinions. You are fine.” He squeezed her fingers. “Perfect, in fact.”

Her eyes searched his, and he could tell she was gauging his sincerity. Then her gaze dropped to their joined hands.

“Well, you were right though. Last night.”

He shook his head, not sure to what she was referring. “About what?”

“When you asked if my family considered me one of them. They don’t. The only one who accepts me is Maksim.”

“What about your mother?”

“Kitty Barrett,” she said mimicking her father’s affected accent. “She lives in a commune somewhere in Nova Scotia. I haven’t seen her in years. It’s hard for her to get away, you know, what with all the chores and whatnot.”

“A commune? Really?”

She nodded, flashing a quick smile. “Some sort of back-to-nature, holistic type thing.”

“Was she a good mother when you were little?”

Ellina pursed her lips as she considered his question.

“Yes. She was pretty good. Of course, she was obsessed with my father. That was definitely her primary concern. She lived to please him. She really believed that eventually he’d come to his senses and realize he loved her.”

“So your parents were never together?”

“They were off and on. Daddy was definitely attracted to her. At least sexually. And apparently to her cooking too,” she half smiled. “But he never really respected her. He basically used her. When I was about twelve, she seemed to realize that he wasn’t going to be with her. Not in the way she wanted. She became more—eccentric after that.”

“The commune?”

“Oh, that was just one stop along her way to self-discovery, as she called it. There was her stint as a stripper. Learning to embrace her sexuality. Then she decided to clean up her act and become religious. She actually attended five different churches every week. But she didn’t get what she wanted from that, so she joined an all-girl biker gang. Really, the commune is the most moderate of her interests.”

Jude shook his head, trying to imagine what it must have been like to grow up in such an erratic, extreme environment. Ellina must have been left to her own devices—the consequence of having two parents who were essentially obsessed with themselves.

Suddenly Ellina’s pretty laughter filled the paneled room, incongruent with his thoughts.

His brows came together, a puzzled smile on his lips.

“What’s so funny?”

She giggled. “I suddenly feel like I’m in confession or something. At least as close as I’ve ever been. Well, aside from the time, during Mom’s religious phase, when she converted one of our showers into a confessional. She wanted me to confess my sins, but every time she’d make me try, I’d just turn on the water. It was worth getting soaking wet, clothes and all, to get out of that.”

She laughed again, the sound urging him to join in.

“I’m sure it was.”

“See, I’m confessing things that I’ve never told anyone. Even Maksim doesn’t know about the confessional shower.”

Jude smiled, oddly pleased by the admission.

“Although I’ll gladly trade places and let you be the confessor now. I think you’ve learned enough about me and my warped family for the time being.”

Her laughter faded, and she relaxed against the pew, a smile curling her pale pink lips. She looked at ease.

Her father’s harsh judgments seemed to be gone from her mind. He hoped he’d helped with that. He looked down at their hands, still linked.

Serenity filled him too, so he had no idea what prompted him to make the admission he did, but he heard himself saying it before he could stop himself.

“I was a father.”

Chapter 15

Ellina laughed. That was a pretty good joke, a funny play on her confessional observation and her crazy story about her mom.

“Father Anthony? It does have a nice ring.”

Her chuckle faded as she realized he wasn’t sharing in her amusement. She leaned away from him to better see his face, her eyes roaming his features.

No mirth there.

“He was born in 65 BCE.”

She gaped at him. He was serious. He had a child and…

She blinked. Wow, Jude was really, really old.

And he was a father. That was amazing. And surprising. And…

Her swirling thoughts grasped onto what he’d actually said, and why his face was so somber.

He was a father. He wasn’t any longer.

Oh God.

She met his gaze, silently urging him to tell her more.

He breathed deep into his chest. Then he looked away, suddenly fascinated with the stained-glass window at the head of the chapel.

She tightened her hand around his, and his eyes moved to their joined fingers.

He inhaled again, then spoke.

“My wife, Livia, always loved children.”

Wife. Of course he’d had a wife. Somewhere in the all those centuries, which were really a lot, she thought again, still amazed, there had to be a wife or two, right? Maybe a hundred. That idea so didn’t please her.

“She had been desperate for a child of her own. It took us a while to conceive, but when we finally did, she was ecstatic. People talk about women glowing with pregnancy, that was her. She just shone.”

The haunted shadows she’d seen in his eyes back at the nursery returned. He was silent while lost in his memories.

Something sharp and bitter flared in her chest. An emotion that shocked her. An emotion that wasn’t fair or reasonable.

He was telling her about a woman he loved. His wife. Ellina’s irrational jealousy had no place here. But it was there, tightening her chest nonetheless.

She ignored it, waiting for Jude to continue.

“She had a difficult labor like Jo, but of course at that time there was little that could be done to help her. She never even regained consciousness to see our son.”

Now Ellina felt even pettier for feeling envious of this woman. Livia never got to see her child. She couldn’t imagine that. Never seeing the child she’d carried for nine months.

Never getting to see him walk or talk or grow into a fine young man.

“That’s awful,” she said, moving her free hand to rub his arm, to offer any comfort she could. Although she wasn’t sure he noticed; his thoughts were gone to the past, lost there for the moment.

“And your son? Did you raise him alone?”

He shook his head, his eyes darkened to the color of a remote, desolate forest.

“He died too. Four days later.”

“Oh, Jude.”

She hugged his arm, resting her head on his shoulder, feeling his pain as if it were her own. That explained the look on his face as they’d watched the babies in the nursery.

That must have been so difficult. All the memories and emotions that must have flooded back.

Suddenly her father’s disapproval seemed so insignificant. Her twin brothers’

ridicule. Those things didn’t compare with a loss like that.

Poor Jude.

Ellina ran her hand up and down his arm, willing away his pain.

“Jude, I’m so sorry,” she whispered, her voice full of sorrow.

She nuzzled her cheek against his shoulder, hugging him, unsure what else to do to help him.

Then the world seemed to shift on its axis, and she found herself sitting on Jude’s lap, his strong arms holding her there.

“Ellina,” he murmured, touching her hair, his eyes searching hers. Then his mouth found hers.

Jude hadn’t intended for the kiss to happen.

He realized that, even now, as his lips moved over hers.

One minute he was remembering the most excruciating times of his life. The one thing he regretted so much that he’d never recovered. Never stopped punishing himself.

The next minute, Ellina was hugging him. Her hand stroking his arm, her touch meant to offer him comfort. But then somewhere amid his memories and her consolation, he became aware of her nearness. The way her touch felt, so good, so different from any other woman’s touch. Even Livia’s—as much as he hated to admit it.

And before he thought it out, before he weighed the repercussions, he pulled her onto his lap and kissed her.

And consequences be damned, there was no way he could stop now. Not when her lips clung so sweetly to his, sculpting to his as if they were made for him.

He nibbled the softness of her lower lip, hearing her gasp at the small bite. He took her gasp into his mouth, using her response to deepen their embrace.

She moaned again, her arms coming around his neck, her firm breasts pressing to his chest. A tremor ran through him. He had to taste her, to be inside her in any way he could.

His nudged her mouth open, mingling her tongue with hers. Hot, moist, raspy touches.

He groaned, pulling her tighter to him.

“God, Ellina,” he murmured again her lips, “you taste so good.”

He angled his head, taking her mouth again, when he felt her freeze. Her body went rigid under his hands; her mouth closed, unyielding.

He lifted his head to ask her what was wrong. Had he done something to scare her?

But before he could get the questions out, she wriggled out of his hold, dashing toward the chapel door.

He rose.

“Ellina!”

He sprinted after her, his movements much faster than hers, but she still managed to reach the door before he could catch her. The door slammed behind her, but he had faith he could stop her in the hallway.

He yanked open the door and charged out, only to run full speed into someone. His hand shot out and caught the person before they could fall to the floor.

Aside from the automatic save, he didn’t acknowledge the person, his attention focused on which way Ellina would go once she reached the end of the hallway. She paused for a second, looking both ways. Jude moved to follow.

“You could kill a person.”

Jude hesitated, looking back at the man he’d hit. A frail man in his eighties, if he were a day, slightly stooped with a few sprigs of gray hair on an otherwise bald pate.

His clouded eyes were narrowed until he saw where Jude’s gaze had been directed.

They both watched as Ellina chose to go right and dashed away. Out of sight.

“Chasin’ your girl,” the old man stated rather than asked. “Mine always makes me chase.”

It was hard to imagine this man chasing anyone. But something in the man’s tone, maybe a hint of sentimentality, made Jude realize the old man was heading to the chapel to pray for his girl.

“Yes, I’m chasing my girl,” Jude told the man.

“Then go, man.”

Jude nodded. “Are you okay?”

The old man pursed his lips together, giving him a look of gritty gumption. “I reckon I made it this long, I don’t think a pup like you is going to slow me down any.”

Jude smiled slightly, liking the man’s pluck. He nodded and started down the hall after Ellina.

“I hope your girl is making you chase her again soon,” he called back to the man.

“She will.”

Jude smiled to himself as he turned right. The man had given him a strange sense of resolve.

My girl.

Ellina ran into the women’s room, heading directly to the largest stall at the end. It was marked handicapped, and at the moment she was definitely feeling like that term applied to her.

As she hoped, the stall was not only larger to accommodate wheelchairs and walkers but also contained its own sink. She latched the door and headed directly to the sink.

Bracing her hands on the cold porcelain, she peered at herself in the soap-splattered mirror above the low-set sink.

She let out a small whimper.

Thank God she only encountered that one little old man during her mad escape.

She’d averted her head and she didn’t think he’d seen anything. She hoped.

This was the worst reaction she’d seen in a long time.

The skin of her neck was layered in the scales that crept upward and onto her cheek like gills. Her eyes glowed so red they looked like stoplights affixed above too prominent cheekbones.

Stoplights. Ha! Too bad she hadn’t heeded the stoplights. Instead she’d driven right through them without even braking. She’d allowed the kiss to go on much, much longer than she should.

And if that wasn’t evident enough from the creeping scales and the beacon eyes, then the crowning glory to her stupidity was the two small red horns poking through her champagne fizz–colored hair (at least that’s what she thought the dye box had said).

Like she needed to be thinking about that now!

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d gotten so aroused or agitated that the horns had actually appeared.

Reluctantly, she touched one of the slight curved protrusions. It was hard and seemed to quiver under her fingertips like her scales did.

She stilled as she heard the restroom door open. A woman in worn brown flats went into the stall beside hers.

Ellina turned on the water to make it less obvious that she was just standing at the sink. Hiding out. Freaking out.

The woman was finished, hands washed and out the door before Ellina’s eyes had even dulled from stoplights to Christmas bulbs. Of course the fact that she could still taste Jude on her lips and feel his strong arms holding her close to his solid chest didn’t help her cause.

Why had she allowed him to do that?

Because you wanted him to, you fool.

She sighed. It was time to face the facts. She couldn’t control her attraction. She was just kidding herself to think she could.

She looked at her monstrous reflection. Clearly kidding herself.

So now it was time to legitimately think of a solution. Because the truth was she could not let him see her this way. It would kill her to witness the revulsion in his eyes. Just another one in her life who couldn’t accept her. And he did seem to be accepting her, so to lose that…

You barely know him, you ninny. But she had shared more with him in the short time they’d been together than she ever had with anyone else in her life. Even Maksim. Even Pete.

That fact didn’t change what she had to do. She had to tell him that he had to go. She couldn’t risk him seeing—she stared at herself—this.

Especially not now that she knew he’d experienced real love in his life. He’d had a wife and child and known something genuine and perfect. Even if only for a short time.

The image that greeted her in the mirror was so far from perfect. She looked like a demon with mange. Half scale. Half skin. All hideous.

“Ellina?”

She started as Jude’s voice echoed off the tile walls, seeming to come at her from every angle. For just a moment she even wondered if she’d imagined it.

“Ellina? I know you are in here.”

She cleared her throat, but her voice still sounded croaky. “Yes. I’m here.”

“Are you okay?” He sounded almost sheepish.

Or maybe it was regret. Her eyes returned to her reflection. He’d really regret that kiss if he only knew.

“I’m…”

Scaled? Horned? Glowing?

“I’m fine.”

“Okay. I’ll just be waiting out here.”

“Okay,” she said.

She heard the door close, the sound almost like that of air being sucked from the room. Seeing as she was having difficulty breathing, that seemed apropos.

She braced her hands back on the sides of the sink, willing some control over her disobedient body. Over her rebellious demon.

But after several seconds, she gave up. Concentration wasn’t working, and she couldn’t hide out in here indefinitely.

She turned on the faucet, running the cold water, then pulled several paper towels from the dispenser. Testing the temperature of the water, she prepared herself.

Surely splashing cold water on herself would get rid of this burn in her body—and thus her demon side. A makeshift version of a cold shower, and those supposedly worked.

She cupped her hands under the stream and leaned forward. She splashed several handfuls of the cool water over her face and neck. She lamented that the neckline of her shirt would be wet, but that was a small price to pay to be a normal texture and color and hornless.

She’d just tell Maksim that she felt unwell. That wasn’t exactly a lie. This whole thing had her stressed and sick to her stomach.

Just then she heard the bathroom door whoosh open again. She paused, remaining over the sink, her face dripping, eyes screwed shut. She listened. Footsteps echoed on the tiles. Not Jude—his tread was too quiet, almost silent, like the agile gait of a wildcat.

Just someone using the facilities.

She ladled one more handful of water over her cooled skin, then shut off the faucet.

Feeling around, she found the paper towels where she placed them, on the edge of the sink.

Straightening, she pressed the rough paper over her face. She couldn’t feel any scales on the underside of her jaw or on her neck.

Thank God, she thought and opened her eyes.

At least she was pretty sure she opened her eyes. But everything was still black. She blinked as if it must be her. But nothing changed.

Was there a power outage? Surely a hospital had backup generators.

Then she heard it, a sound not far from her. A shuffling. A slither.

“Hello?” she called, turning toward the sound. She’d heard someone come in. Was that what she was hearing? A disoriented woman, fumbling in the dark to find the exit.

She heard another shuffle. Except the person wasn’t moving toward the exit. She was moving toward her. The poor woman must be disoriented.

“Hello?” she said again, not even realizing she was backing away until the back of her legs hit something hard.

She gasped, then told herself to calm down. It had to be the toilet. She slowly back up again. She bumped into the object again. Yes, definitely the toilet. She stepped away from it.

Again, she heard that shuffling sound.

“Who’s there?” she demanded, trying to stay calm, but she knew her voice was tinged with panic.