Page 42 of Realm of the Wicked

DAMIEN

I swirled the amber liquid around, watching the way it hit the sides of the glass with mindless curiosity. It made me think of the ocean, the way the waves crested on the rocks. Not that I’d seen the ocean in a while. It was rare for people who needed transportation to pass at the beach. No, my pickups tended to happen in hospitals, and back alleys like the one I’d stood in at the bar all those years ago. I remembered it, though. The sound of the water crashing up the beach. The pink sunset reflecting across the water.

I took a sip, allowing myself to crack for just a moment. To feel all the emotions that had stuck with me since that night, the first night I allowed myself to get close to Stella.

That was the night I felt everything change. I lost some of my hope, the senseless, idiotic desire that maybe one day, I could have Stella the way I wanted. When I followed her at a distance, I could keep that dream alive. But up close, I could see how ridiculous such a thought really was. It had been worth it to lose that dream though, no matter how much it hurt, because Stella was safe, and even with me taking away the memories of that night, she somehow remembered what I’d told her.

She stopped going out drinking, trying to lose herself at the bottom of a bottle. She smiled again, little by little.

What I didn’t anticipate was Grace getting sick. And while I’d protected Stella from one fate, I couldn’t save her from another. I’d kept an eye on her the best I could, but when Grace got her terminal diagnosis, I knew exactly how it would play out. All too well, I could see the years as they would come: Stella alone, lost, looking for faith in the in all the wrong places. And I couldn’t let that happen.

But now Stella was here. Just across the house. Sitting across the table from me. Sharing my food, sharing my fucking air like she wasn’t robbing me of my oxygen at every turn. She had no idea how much of a temptation she was, how intoxicating I found her smile. She was safe here, but for how long? How long would it really take for Clarissa to show up, or for me to snap?

According to her, we were friends, now. Friends. I scoffed, downing the rest of my glass. I didn’t want to be friends. I wanted to make her scream. Sighing, I leaned back in my chair. I’d wasted enough time in here, feeling sorry for myself. But the pity party was over. The real world was knocking, and that included a ticking clock, demanding I come up with a solution to save Stella’s soul from the likes of Clarissa.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

How. Much. Longer. Do. You. Have. To. Save. Her.

It was always saving her from one doom only for another to take its place. I’d save her from as many as I could, as long as I could stop thinking about her lips long enough to come up with a plan.

The alcohol shot through me the moment I stood up, leaving me to white-knuckle the edge of my desk. Fuck’s sake. It’d been a while since I’d drunk anything more than wine at dinner, and I’d been stupid. Sloppy, even. The downsides of having a human-esque body while being an immortal being. Sometimes, the realities that hurt humans hurt me just as much.

Like drinking, for example. There was a reason I didn’t do it. That being said, my brain was blissfully quiet now. There wasn’t a single thought of Stella, or her bright brown eyes, staring through me like she knew me. Not even a teeny, tiny ounce of my brain was set aside for the memory of how she’d looked the evening I picked her up from her room, her oversized shirt barely brushing the tops of her smooth thighs. No room for those full, pink lips, curving into the barest hint of a smile.

I closed my eyes with a groan. Never mind. Apparently, drinking wasn’t the solution to getting the stubborn human woman off my brain.

With a sigh, I made my way toward my door. The only thing I had to worry about now was my traitorous brain, flicking through images of Stella like a slideshow I couldn’t escape. Her smile. Her tears. The way she was never afraid, only ever curious.

It’s your own fault, you know.

‘Wonderful,’ I grumbled, keeping my hand pressed against the cool hallway wall. ‘Exactly who I needed to hear from now: my moral compass. I didn’t even think I had one any more.’

You could’ve just let her be. Just watched her live her life from afar, and never intervened. The fact she’s here, taunting you, looking like sunshine and smelling like brown sugar, is a punishment of your own creation.

‘And here I thought an eternity as the Devil was punishment enough,’ I muttered, trying to pretend I wasn’t having a conversation with myself. ‘Besides, what was I supposed to do? Just let her sister die, and let her live the rest of her life sad and alone? No. The only choice was the one I made.’

You asked to become the Devil. You made the choice of your own free will.

‘So did Stella.’ I thought back to that day in the park, where she looked up at me through a curtain of dark hair, tears clinging to the tips of her eyelashes, desperate for someone to tell her everything was going to be okay. She was stunning, even when she was shattering into a million pieces next to me. Fuck, she was beautiful. She was everything I’d ever wanted, and she was close enough for me to touch, to taste, to protect.

So I did. In the only way I could.

‘So did Stella, what?’

My head snapped up at the light voice to see Stella herself standing in the doorway, one of those damn massive shirts draped over her, whispering against her soft skin, tormenting me that they got to touch her that way, while I had to resign myself to watching and wondering.

I forced myself to blink, my thoughts shuttering into place. ‘Nothing. What are you doing up anyway? It’s got to be late.’

She shrugged a slender shoulder, pulling the shirt an inch higher, exposing more of that sacrosanct skin to me. Did she realize what she was doing to me? Was she doing it on purpose?

Did she want me as badly as I wanted her, my fingers tingling in desperation to reach out and touch her? She’d wanted me to kiss her in the bar that night, her lips a breath away. But that was a lifetime ago.

I was fucking gone, lost to the ether, over a woman I could never have. Please, let her be doing it on purpose.

‘Damien.’

I shook my head, trying to focus on Stella in front of me. She was closer now, close enough for me to smell the warm sugar scent that followed her. I needed to ask Agatha to find out what shampoo she had given her, because I didn’t want her to ever lose that smell. I took a breath, steadying the rolling emotions swaying through my blood, the alcohol doing me no favors. She was so close, I could barely stand it. She watched me with concern when I deserved anything but.