~ Jax ~
“Are you awake?”
The question sounded as though it came from across the sea, muffled and garbled and so very far away.
“Can you hear me?”
The words were a little clearer that time, a little more distinct.
Dory?
He felt as though he were walking across the sandy ocean floor, one step more difficult than the next as the current pressed against him, mind refusing to process.
Was that her? Maybe?
“Jax, please. Please, wake up.”
Definitely Pandora. But her voice was tense, not smooth. Rushed, not calm. Edged with something desperate.
Jax blinked.
Those sapphire eyes were the first thing he saw, hidden in midnight shadow, yet somehow still sparkling. His heart lurched, a painful tug, because for a moment, it really seemed as if she was looking right at him. But it couldn’t be. If Pandora was awake, Samael surely was too. The devil would never be so careless as to let Jax be alone with her. To let him talk to her, touch her.
No.
Samael would never allow that.
So Jax waited, eyes open, and drank her in.
His pupils started to burn, so he blinked again. Then opened his eyes. Then closed them. Then opened.
Wait…
“Dory?” he rasped, words scratching their way up his throat.
“Jax!” she cried, throwing her arms around him and burying her face in the nook of his neck so her hair splayed across his chest, the citrus scent more vibrant and alluring than he could ever remember. He brought one hand to her waist and one to the back of her head, then held her as she began to tremble, savoring the warmth of her body, luxuriating in the heat he wasn’t sure he would ever feel again.
“I’m sorry, Jax. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry,” she mumbled over and over, the barest whisper. But he heard. And he couldn’t bear the guilt woven through her words.
“Dory,” he said.
But she shook her head. “I can’t believe I did this, Jax. I can’t believe it. I’m so sorry.”
“Dory,” he said again, but this time he put his palms on either side of her cheeks, forcing her to lift her head from his chest. Her eyes were bloodshot. Her face was pale. Her lips wobbled as she tried to hold it all back, tried to be strong. Jax wiped the wetness from her skin and held her fragile gaze. “Don’t apologize, Dory. Not to me. Not ever again. You didn’t do this. You didn’t do anything. He did this, you hear me? He is responsible. Not you. And we’re going to find a way to fix it, okay? Everything will be all right.”
That million-watt smile passed over her lips, so bright he thought it could power the world. And then she kissed him.
Jax sighed the moment her lips touched his, the pressure of the past few days finally lifting for the briefest instant, so that he was perfectly happy and perfectly at peace. Pandora leaned closer, the feel of her, the smell of her, the taste of her overwhelming.
We shouldn’t be doing this, Jax thought, torn as his body gripped her tighter, but his mind raced forward. I should be telling her everything that’s happened. We should be figuring out a plan. We should be doing anything and everything but this.
I need to stay calm.
I can’t let Samael wake up.
I can’t alert him.
I need to relax.
I need to—
Pandora darted her tongue out, scorching hot, teasing him.
Oh, screw it.
His heart lurched, blood pounding as his every nerve lit on fire. Pandora smiled against his lips, sensing the change. Jax gripped her waist and rolled them over so her back pressed into the mattress. A second later, her legs were wrapped around his waist. She dug her fingers through his hair, pulling him closer. He brushed his hands over the silky skin at her waist, then wandered up beneath her cotton shirt, drifting higher.
Pandora tore her mouth away and gulped down air. “We shouldn’t.”
“I know,” Jax groaned. This time he was the one dropping his head against her neck, almost in pain as the fever she stirred rushed through him. “I know. There are more important things to focus on right now.”
“Well, that,” Pandora said, offering him a grin. “But we also have company.”
“What?” Jax sat up, body chilled as he glanced around, afraid to find Samael somehow behind him, alive and returned, or a phantom mist about to spring into his mind.
“Naya,” Pandora blurted, realizing her mistake. “I meant Naya.”
At the same time Pandora spoke, Jax saw her in the corner and flinched. Whenever he thought of the medium, he pictured a peaceful, kind person. But right now, she looked downright scary. Her eyes had rolled into the back of her head, and the white glowed a silvery hue, almost resembling the moon. Her lips were barely moving, mumbling incoherently. And at the edges of her fingers, her nails had elongated into what looked to be ebony claws. Power oozed from her, palpable.
“Pretty badass, right?” Pandora muttered, sitting up and crossing her legs on the bed, still facing him.
“What is she doing?”
“Necromancy.” A brilliant gleam twinkled in the corner of her eye. “You didn’t think you woke up in charge all by yourself, did you?”
Jax’s eyes widened as something in his chest did a backflip. “She’s controlling him?”
“She’s keeping his soul asleep,” Pandora told him as she entwined their fingers and gripped tight. “We weren’t sure if it would work, but it did. So now she’s trying to see how strong he is, if there’s anything else she might be able to do.”
“Did he see you?” Jax asked, a sudden panic taking hold as he turned back to meet Pandora’s excited gaze. The light in her eyes dimmed. Her brows twitched together.
“No, why? What happened?”
“So much,” Jax whispered. A ragged breath escaped his lips as he thought about the past few days—her father, his parents, the head vampires. “When I first realized what happened, I fought against him every second of the day. I managed to break through his hold once or twice, but he always regained control too fast, and he—he threatened my parents to keep me quiet. To make me easier to control. So he can’t know we talked. He can’t ever find out about this conversation, or he’ll kill them, Dory. I know you loved him. I know you thought he was a better man, but he’s not. He’s a murderer. And he’ll make good on his threats.”
“I know,” she answered softly. “He won’t find out, I promise.”
“Dory—” Jax started but then broke off abruptly, words catching in his throat. Malcolm Scott’s tortured face jumped to the forefront of his thoughts, brown eyes bursting with silent agony as the shadows barreled down his throat, cutting off air.
He had to tell her.
He had to.
But did she have to know now?
Like this?
“What, Jax?” she asked, tone demanding. He’d never been able to hide anything from her. As long as he’d known her, she’d been able to read every thought coursing through his mind. “Tell me.”
“Dory.” He said her name like a sigh, then lifted his hand and brushed a wayward strand of golden hair back behind her ear, not completely sure what to say. But she had to know. If any part of her still had sympathy for Samael, this would destroy those lingering doubts. He had to tell her, even if it broke her heart. “He killed your father.”
Her arms went limp. “How?”
Jax squeezed his fingers around her palms, which had suddenly grown cold, trying to warm them back to life. “When you went to talk to your father, he used the shadows to follow. We were there for your entire conversation. We saw everything. And after you’d left, he was furious, enraged. He…he said your father was the worst of humanity. That he was selfish and never satisfied and evil for not cherishing the time he had with his child. And then he pushed the darkness down his throat and suffocated him.”
Pandora’s gaze fell to the bed as she nodded slowly and swallowed once. “That sounds like Sam.”
“Dory, did the two of you…”
She lifted her gaze, finding his, eyes full of a burning sort of pain he didn’t understand. Did the two of you have children? That’s what he’d been going to say, what he was trying to ask. But the question died on his lips.
It didn’t matter. She knew what he was going to ask. And he knew, from the throb pulsing across those azure irises, what her answer would be.
“It’s not important,” she whispered instead.
But it was important.
It just didn’t involve him.
It was something between her and Samael, something no one else would ever understand. And maybe one day, after all of this was over, she’d open her heart and tell him. He hoped she would. But he wouldn’t press. Not now. Not ever.
How am I supposed to compete with this? he thought. How could he compete with a history so intense that even after thousands of years, the memories of what had been still burned like a fire in her soul? How was he supposed to compete with love like that?
But it wasn’t about competing.
He knew that. Deep down he did.
It was about providing her with something Samael never could—compassion and a love that didn’t demand but instead understood.
So he let it go. He didn’t press.
“The last thing your father said?” he told her, holding on to the pain in her gaze, trying to carry it in her stead. “It was save her. I know what he told you. I know what he said and why you ran. But after you left, he was a different person, Dory. Someone I’ve never seen before. And with his dying breath, he did the one thing he’d never been able to do while he was alive. He ordered me to save you. So that’s what we’re going to do.”
Pandora squeezed her eyes shut, keeping them there for a few seconds, unable to stop a single tear from leaking out no matter how hard she tried to hold it in.
She was so strong.
So impossibly strong.
He didn’t know what the world had done to deserve her.
What he had done.
She took a deep, uneven breath as she sniffled and rubbed the water from her eyes, rarely one to let anyone, even Jax, see her cry. And then she squared her shoulders and opened her eyes, expression focused, determined. “What else did you see? What else has he done, Jax?”
“He’s powerful, Dory. Impossibly powerful,” he said. She nodded, fully aware of how dangerous the shadows could be, how deadly. “But he’s biding his time. He’s waiting for something. I don’t know what. He’s very calculated about what he says, and he very rarely reveals information he doesn’t mean to.” At that, Pandora snorted, a grim smile dancing over her lips, but she didn’t say anything. So he continued, “I’ve only really witnessed one aspect of his plan. During the night, while everyone’s been asleep, he’s been visiting head vampires all around the globe. They call him master, and he can control them. They’re waiting for some sort of signal, and then they’re going to strike. How? I’m not sure. But it’ll be bad. You remember that guy Claude? He’s one. And then a vamp they call the Bone Crusher. Another who’s telekinetic. Another who can tap into electricity. They’re like the super warriors of hell.”
Pandora chewed on her lip, thinking. “I’m not so concerned about the vamps. Between Naya and the conduits, we’ll be able to keep that threat under control. I’m more concerned about Sam. We have to figure out his plan. Who he wants to hurt. Where he’s going. If we’re not one step ahead, we’ll be too late.”
Jax thought back over the past few days.
Every time Samael lost control, every time his anger got the best of him, every time he flared up—they all had one thing in common.
Titans.
“The enclave,” he muttered.
“What?”
“Think about it, Dory,” Jax urged, suddenly energized. “He’s got to be after the titans. He hates them for what they did to you for all of those years. He blames them for keeping you apart. The enclave. That’s got to be his target, at least to start.”
“You’re right.” She nodded, eyes brightening as the pieces fell into place. “He was so angry that I was trying to help them. He wanted us to run away, to leave them behind, to forget the titans forever. He’s watched them murder me at least a dozen times since they started taking my memories away. And before that, he watched me love them, watched me sacrifice myself for them, instead of freeing him. All of that blame, he refused to place it on me, so he focused it on them.”
“You have to warn them,” Jax said, mind racing, thinking of his parents asleep while the shadows loomed overhead. They weren’t ready. None of them were. Samael would tear through that place. He’d destroy it. “You—”
“He’s coming,” Naya interrupted, voice urgent. Jax and Pandora both jerked their heads in her direction. The medium’s eyes were still milky white, but the glow was dimming. The muscles in her neck were taut and strained. Her fingers were curled into tight fists. “I can’t hold him any longer, at least not without him noticing.”
As soon as she spoke, the shadows unfurled in the back of his mind, phantom hands elongating, stretching through his thoughts as they awoke.
“Did you see anything?” Pandora asked, fingers digging into Jax’s forearms as though she refused to let go. Her gaze remained on her friend. “Naya, did you see a way to pull his soul out? To get rid of it?”
“No,” Naya confessed, tone hollow. “No, there’s nothing. His darkness is everywhere, tied to every inch of Jax’s body, too ingrained to ever tear free. But—”
She stopped abruptly.
“What?” Pandora asked. “But what?”
Naya’s shoulders fell. She blinked, amber irises rolling back to place as the glow disappeared entirely, power snuffing out. “I think I could pull his soul to the underworld, to the kingdom of the night sun, like I do with other lost spirits. But first, it would have to be set free.”
“How?” Pandora shook her head. “How do we free it?”
She didn’t understand. She didn’t see.
But Jax’s heart stopped, plummeting in an instant. Naya flicked her gaze to him. They stared at each other for a moment, understanding flashing impossibly bright in the dark shadows of the room, which grew dimmer by the second as Samael slowly regained hold.
“It’s not important,” Jax murmured. “He’s waking up—I can feel him. Come on, we have to lie back down. We have to pretend to be sleeping.”
“But what?” Pandora asked, attention darting between the two of them, panicked. “What?”
“I should go,” Naya whispered, then slipped out the door.
“Dory,” he sighed, wrapping an arm around her. Beneath her skin, her pulse raced. He ran his fingers up her arm, gentle, soothing, listening as her thumping heart slowed, calmed. “Let’s enjoy our last few seconds, okay?”
Pandora curled on her side. Jax slid down behind her.
Their bodies molded together, not an inch of space between them, curves completely in sync. Perfect. As though sculpted from clay, made to match.
“I love you,” Pandora whispered, pulling his hand close to her heart.
The darkness spread.
The moonlight coming in through the window began to wane.
The onyx mist infiltrated his awareness, pushing it back, pushing it away.
Jax blinked but was unable to open his eyes again.
In his last moment of control, he hugged her tight and pressed a kiss to the nape of her neck, murmuring, “I love you too.”
And then he slackened his muscles.
He faded away, not fighting as the shadows overtook him.
Samael opened his eyes.
Jax’s body stiffened. His head jerked up, gaze searching.
Next to him, Pandora grumbled incoherently and wriggled against him, as though complaining at his sudden movement in her sleep.
Samael relaxed.
He put his head back on the pillow.
He closed his eyes.
He pulled her closer, and Pandora let him, continuing to play the game. Jax tried to follow her lead, pretending it was really his arms and his mind and his body wrapped around her, pretending he was really in control, pretending to be asleep.
But his thoughts continued to whirl far into the night. Because he couldn’t unsee that look on Naya’s face, the words written across her amber eyes, the realization he’d grasped in an instant, the one Pandora refused to acknowledge, though deep down she must have understood.
The way to free Samael’s soul was the same way every other soul was set free—the body it inhabited had to die. If that happened, all of his footholds, all of his knots, they’d unravel. And once they did, Naya could pull his soul into the afterlife. Naya could destroy him.
The way to save the world was obvious.
Jax had to die.
He just needed to find the courage to do it first.