Chapter 14

"Gen, wake up!"

Mindy shook my shoulder, hissing close to my ear. I jumped awake, positive a demon had found me and broken in. But seeing Mindy's impish smile hovering over me, I knew otherwise.

"What?"

She giggled. "Um, that extremely hot guy is sitting on our sofa, said he had an ‘appointment' with you this morning."

She'd even done air quotes for "appointment." I glanced at my phone. It was 8:10.

"Damn it," I muttered, nearly falling out of bed. "Mindy, please, please, please ask him to give me ten minutes."

"Oh, Gen. You take your sweet little ole time," she said in her best Scarlet O'Hara impersonation. "I'll be more than delighted to keep the gentleman company."

She shot me a devious grin before prissing out of the room, still in her pink cotton pajamas and white terry cloth robe, her blonde hair twisted in a neat little bun. I rolled my eyes and scrambled toward the bathroom.

After a two-minute shower, I brushed my teeth and towel-dried my hair, letting damp waves fall loosely. Powdering some concealer under my eyes and on the fading bite mark, I noticed the bite had already nearly healed. Kat was right. We do heal quickly.

Come to think of it, I'd never been one to bruise easily or show injuries, even in my early days of learning karate. I'd always thought it was just good genes and lots of vitamins, but perhaps it was something else in my blood—whatever made me a Vessel.

With that thought, I examined the fast-healing wound across my abdomen. The angry red welt had already thinned to a white line, barely puckered on the smooth skin of my stomach. The stitches hadn't even fully dissolved, and the wound had nearly healed.

I brushed a little mascara on my lashes and dabbed tinted lip balm on my lips. I'd done my best to cover up the bags under my eyes from tossing and turning long before falling into a fitful sleep. All thanks to Jude's bit of advice that had me wondering why he seemed to care so much about me, while at the same time rejecting me and finally leaving me in a stupor of sexual frustration.

"Good enough."

I pulled on black workout pants and a white tank with spaghetti straps, then zipped on my green hoodie. After slipping on my shoes, I headed into the living room to find Jude filling it up with his massive presence. Lounging on the sofa with one arm across the back, the other casually on his thigh, he seemed too big for the room.

"…but it's really a matter of practice and perseverance."

"Fascinating. Simply fascinating," Mindy said in a rapturous tone.

Fascinating? I've never heard that word come out of her mouth since I've known her, which has been since the sixth grade. I tried not to snort with laughter. She was perched next to him on the sofa in a ball, her chin on her knees, making googly eyes. Much to his credit, he acted quite casually about her overt attentions.

"Oh hey, Gen." All innocence and bright blue eyes.

"Hey."

I glanced at Jude, then away. His gaze fixed on me, making me self-conscious, especially after last night.

"What were you two talking about?" I asked, trying to eat up the awkward silence.

"Workouts. I was curious how Jude kept in such great shape," she replied with a sexy lilt to her words.

Heat crawled up my cheeks, but Mindy kept her sweet smile on like this was a perfectly normal conversation to have. She might've well had asked him how he got so hot and what it's like looking like a sculptured god.

"It was a pleasure to meet you," said Jude, standing and taking her hand, brushing a kiss along her knuckles. How he made this old-fashioned gesture seem normal, I still didn't know.

Mindy tittered. Yes. Tittered! Like from a bad movie where stupid girls giggle like melodramatic morons to something the hot guy says. Did she just bat her eyelashes? I was going to kill her.

"Goodbye, Mindy," I said quickly, shooting her a glare while heading for the door. "Be back this afternoon."

"Okay. Movie night, tonight, right?"

"Yep. Your choice this time."

"Bye, Jude," she crooned sweetly.

I rolled my eyes, following Jude to the curb, where he opened the passenger door of a sleek black Audi.

"New car?" I asked, stepping in.

"It's Kat's," he replied, closing the door without explaining further.

He didn't need to. I was a big girl and figured it out pretty fast. Sifting and riding the motorcycle required close skin-to-skin contact. He must regret what happened last night, for whatever reason, and planned to prevent a second occurrence. Damn him.

"Okay, so I want to talk about last night," I said as soon as he backed out of the drive.

I caught the sudden clenching of his hands on the steering wheel and wondered once more why he'd kissed me last night and had gone all cold with me this morning. Was he just trying to teach me a lesson and put me in my place in a macho sort of way? Or did he truly desire me?

He didn't say a word as he headed into traffic, shoulders stiff. I waited a minute, letting him stew before I continued.

"That demon, Garzel, why did he tell you his name but not his master's?"

Jude visibly relaxed, apparently relieved my questioning was about demons and not the super-hot make-out session on my bed. I might let that slide for now, but not forever.

"One of two reasons. Either his devotion to his master was such that he didn't care about his own well-being, or his master had put him under a spell, a compulsion, where he couldn't reveal the name. It was most probably the latter."

"But if it were the latter, he had no choice but to refuse your demand."

"True." A glance from simmering, dark eyes.

"But then, you gave him to that Collector thing when he couldn't help from refusing you?"

"True. Is this line of questioning going somewhere?"

"Well, I'm trying to figure out how you could hand over a helpless creature to that, that thing, when it wasn't his fault he couldn't give you what you demanded."

"Helpless creature? You do realize he nearly killed you."

"Yes. Of course." Okay, not helpless; that sounded stupid.

"You do realize he has killed many, many others." Jude's icy words made me feel small. If he was trying to push me away, he was doing a damn fine job. "Garzel is a demon. He deserved no mercy."

Yes. He was right, but there was something unjust about condemning a creature, even an evil demon, to an eternity of some terrible fate when the creature had no choice but to obey his master.

This ruthless side of Jude put me on my guard a little more. Perhaps last night was a mistake, no matter that the electric heat between us still filled up the small confines of Kat's car.

"So what is the Collector? That angel-of-death-looking thing."

"Acheron is a soul collector. What we call endless death."

I remembered that he'd given Garzel an option—truth or endless death. So he had summoned that thing last night to be his underworld assassin.

"When he takes you," Jude continued, "there's nothing but an eternity of sorrow and emptiness, a lifeless agony where the soul has no respite."

"Acheron? As in the river in the underworld from Greek mythology? That's quite a coincidence."

Jude drove down Decatur; the streets were rather empty this time of day.

"Not a coincidence. Mythology always has a grain of truth, does it not? Acheron is a river of souls, of sorrow and lament, feeding on unending woe. Some call them soul eaters, not Collectors."

"Nice."

Jude ignored my sarcasm and went on. "I imagine the Greek philosopher who first put the rivers into writing was a Flamma of some kind, knowing the truth of our world and wanting to put fear into the living."

"Wait, there are five rivers in the Greek underworld. There are five of those Collector things out there!"

Jude nodded. "Though they don't all look like Acheron."

"Thank God," I sighed, remembering the sight of the ghastly wraith and the touch of hollow, eternal sadness when it opened its mouth.

"Some of them are far worse. Acheron is rather…docile, compared to his brothers and sisters."

"Docile! Are you fucking kidding me?"

"Afraid not," he said, pulling onto Dauphine and backing into a spot behind his bike.

"Wait. Acheron actually bowed to you before he left. Do you know him? Like on friendly terms?"

Jude shifted sideways in the seat, one hand on the headrest behind me. "No one is on friendly terms with a soul collector, but let us say he and I have an understanding of sorts."

"Of sorts? What sort of sorts?"

"The sort that helps me do my job."

"As a demon hunter."

"That is what I am."

His aura of flame, though not visible, licked around the tight cabin of the car. I caught his eyes flickering to my lips, then up so quickly I might've thought I imagined it. But I didn't.

"And how exactly does one become a demon hunter? You never told me. Do you just sign up to chase down evil for an eternity? Or did you do something naughty and get punished?"

His eyes sharpened, narrowed. Swirls of black glittered with gold. He moved closer, or perhaps I'd moved closer to him. Hard to tell. "Brazen words. You sure you want the answer?"

"I wouldn't have asked if I didn't. I try not to say or do things I'll regret."

Whether he got my meaning or not, I couldn't tell. He held me in his gaze for a heartbeat, considering something, then opened his door.

"Kat is waiting," he said gruffly, stepping quickly from the car.

I got out and sidled up beside him as we passed into the alcove leading to his courtyard. "You're really good at avoiding questions you don't want to answer."

"Lots of practice."

"Hmph, speaking of which, how old are you anyway?"

He held open the wrought-iron gate for me to pass through. A cool breeze blew over me, lifting my still-drying hair as I swept by him.

"Old enough to know when a woman is baiting me into an argument I don't want to have."

"Woman? It seems you treat me more like a child most of the time."

Except for last night, of course.

He unlocked the door to his house and stepped aside in a courteous manner to let me go first, reminding me he certainly had lived in a bygone era and had maintained some of its chivalry. I wondered if he'd also maintained some of its brutality as I moved ahead of him up the stairs. He followed very close behind.

"Oh, Genevieve," he rumbled, making something tighten low and deep. "I never mistook you for anything but a woman."

I was then all too aware he had a full view of me from behind walking up the stairs, feeling his eyes on every part of my body, specifically the lower half. I hurried the last few steps and spun around to face him, not seeing Kat in the living room.

"Where is she?"

He stood there, grinning with a scintillating, close-mouthed smile on his lips. Those lips. I thought of where they'd touched me last night. Where else I'd wanted them to touch me before he stopped too soon.

A flush of heat crawled up my neck. He blinked heavily, then pointed down the hall to his studio. Pivoting at once, I tried to get away from him before he read all my thoughts. Too late, of course, for he knew exactly the kind of effect he had on me.

What I wanted to know was why the hell he'd shut everything off all of a sudden. In the midst of my inner turmoil, I tried to figure out whether I should even pursue anything beyond the protector/protectee relationship. Jude followed me into the studio and closed the door.

"Hi, Genevieve!" called Kat, wearing all-black workout clothes that revealed a well-toned yet curvy figure. Her sleek blonde hair, tied in a high ponytail, glistened down her back. If it weren't for the twelve-inch daggers strapped to her thighs, I'd say she was a beautiful, charming young woman. Knowing what she was had given her innocent beauty a lethal edge. She gave a swift wink and a smile to Jude behind me.

Then it hit me. The green-eyed monster inside me spat and hissed, shaking the bars of the cage I tried to keep her in. Jude knew we'd be working with Kat today and didn't want me showing any signs of attraction or that we'd been in any way intimate, which would forewarn his girlfriend that he'd cheated on her. Kat must be his girlfriend!

I mean, look at her. Why wouldn't she be? Damn, I felt stupid. What killed me was that he could flirt with me like he did coming up the stairs right before we entered the room with her.

"Are you okay?" she asked with a concerned expression.

"I'm fine. Where do we start?"

I tried some semblance of passivity, but my aggressive nature had stepped to the forefront, wanting to claw her eyes out. But then, she was so fucking nice that I couldn't even dream of actually doing such a thing.

She walked toward me, sympathy softening into a smile. "Well, did you show Jude how well you can shield?"

I shook my head no, remembering my idiocy at letting my guard slip after several beers last night with Malcolm.

"No, she didn't," he said, only a foot behind me. I jumped. Sneaky bastard.

"What! But, it's so wonderful! You have to feel her when she casts illusion, Jude. It's quite lovely."

Okay. Jude's possible girlfriend telling me he had to feel me in any context made my face turn seven shades of red.

He moved to stand in front of me and took my hands, swallowing them in warm, callused ones. He bent his head low to mine. I stared at the floor. Why did he enjoy my discomfort so much?

"I'm ready when you are," he said.

"Really?" I mumbled.

Before he could answer, my mind sped through the Latin phrase of protection as I plunged into my safehouse—waves of golden hair, soft, lilting words, cocooned in dainty arms—then I blasted my VS into a shield around me. Moon-bright stars scattered through my mind, showering me in a protective shell.

Jude's hold tightened. He gasped. Jude gasped? I opened my eyes. Black orbs fixed on me with confusion and surprise.

"Whoo-hoo!" laughed Kat, jumping in a cheerleader-like way. She knew Jude had experienced what she had yesterday. I'd actually managed to spread the shield much faster than I did with her. "Amazing, right?"

Jude nodded, still staring. I didn't dare look away. I wanted him to feel the fury warring in my veins. He had deceived me with that kiss—more than a kiss—to prove a point, making me believe he wanted me, then snapped it off so easily as if it were nothing. As if I were nothing.

"Amazing," he repeated Kat's words. "The night. So fitting."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Your seal. A moon-bright glow in the night. It suits you."

"You could see that?"

"I know," Kat intervened. Jude dropped my hands. "It was like the cosmos had exploded everywhere when I experienced it yesterday. And wasn't I right? She casts the shield in a split second, Jude!" she yelled exuberantly, snapping her fingers for effect. "It's like she's fully aware after only one week of crossing twenty? And she's already casting without saying the chant aloud! It's remarkable."

One week? Was that all it had been? I reeled from all the insane feelings, unable to join in Kat's enthusiastic celebration.

"It is remarkable," Jude agreed, watching me closely, voice soft, gaze intent.

"Come on, then. Let's see what else she has in store. It's time to learn attack mode," Kat said, taking my arm and leading me to the center of the room.

"Before we get started, there's something that demon Garzel said to me. It's been weighing on my mind."

"What did he say?" snapped Jude.

It was so unnerving when he focused on me like that, making me feel like an insect in a jar.

"I was trying to find a way out of there, so I mentioned that Danté had marked me, thinking the demon would back off."

I swallowed hard, feeling a wave of heat shimmer across the room. Kat glanced from me to Jude. His lips tightened into a line.

"Anyway, he said Danté would have to ‘mourn my loss' and that his master wanted no challenger."

Silence.

The mood plummeted. Jude shot a look at Kat across my shoulder. She walked past me to stand closer to him, speaking in a low, coaxing tone. "It's a sign. Don't you see?"

She placed a hand gently on his crossed forearms. Jude's eyes remained on me, though the usual intensity faded.

"Jude," Kat said his name as if imploring him to do something.

"Could someone please tell me what's going on? A sign of what?"

Kat turned away from the brooding demon hunter as if his silence was what she sought in order to continue. Sympathy was back in her eyes. "The prophecy, the one I told you about."

I nodded.

"I only have part of it, but the portion I know speaks of signs leading to the end."

"You mean the beginning," interrupted Jude.

He'd walked away from both of us, angling his body more toward the wall of practice swords. He seemed to be gazing at something far from this room, perhaps into the future or the past.

"The beginning?" I asked.

Kat sighed, coming to me and clasping my hands as if to comfort me. The heavy dread permeating the air pressed on my chest. "There are two high demons after you. One wants you for his Vessel; the other wants you dead. We know your would-be killer is another high demon, one of the seven princes of the underworld."

I nodded, though I hadn't figured out yet how she knew this to be true. Jude remained with his back to us. She went on. "This fits the prophecy. Here, read this."

She shot a nervous glance at Jude, then pulled her cell phone from the hip of her workout pants, strapped somewhere between the fabric and her skin. She flipped through her photos, then tapped on one. "Read it."

It took a second for me to realize what I was looking at. The torn parchment of a yellowed scroll bore curving calligraphy with swirling curls and flourishes. Not only was the penmanship difficult to read, but the writing was in Latin. I understood a great deal, but these words were beyond me.

"Kat, I can't understand this. Where did you get this photo?"

"I shot it myself," she said, taking back the phone and enlarging the screen with her thumb and index finger.

"From where? Who has the original?"

"The Vatican."

"The Vatican! As in the Vatican?"

"Is there more than one?" She smirked.

I couldn't help but laugh a little as she continued.

"Well, as the keeper of ancient texts, they still only had this one piece," she continued. "The original was written down by a medieval monk, whose most probable name was James of Glastonbury."

"Most probable name?"

"Monks didn't sign their works, whether it was an illumination or whatever, part of the monastic denial of self and all that. I've done a bit of investigating and questioning of Flamma over the years, and there seems to be some debate about the exact time period and the name of the scribe."

"Does that really matter?" I asked, wondering why the long explanation.

Kat was patient. "Yes, of course, it does. Because, you see, the prophet must have been a Vessel with the Sight to have given this specific prophecy. And the monk would have trust in the Vessel in order to scribe the prophecy into their holy books, protected for centuries at Glastonbury. Until, of course, Henry VIII—the big, fat polygamist—had so many of the English cathedrals burned or destroyed. Glastonbury being one of them."

"I still don't quite understand how the name of the monk matters."

Kat focused, apparently realizing she'd been rambling, not making any logical sense. "There are three names attached to this prophecy as the monks who scribed the original text. The names were given to me by different Flamma who've been around much, much longer than I have."

"Was George one of them?" interrupted Jude, which earned him a slit-eyed glare from Kat.

She went on. "Simeon of Glastonbury in approximately 83 AD, John of Glastonbury around 197 AD, and James of Glastonbury in 399 AD. It must be James in order to validate the truth of the prophecy. The first very Vessel awakened on this earth in 273 AD. Do you see? Only a Vessel with Sight could've passed the vision on to James, because no Vessel had been in our world during Simeon's and John's time."

"Two seventy-three AD," I murmured, disbelieving the fact that Vessels had come and gone all that long ago.

I staggered from the weight of it. Kat had already told me that of all the Vessels she had ever known or heard of, there were two fates for them—premature death or long-term possession by a demon. I shivered at the thought, wondering how in the world I could ever hope for a different outcome if Vessels had been around for centuries and none of them had escaped. Jude had become as silent as a ghost in the corner of the room.

"Somewhere along the line," Kat interrupted my thoughts, "the prophecy was ripped in half, either intentionally or by accident, so we only have part of it. The first part."

"Okay, just tell me what it says."

I trembled as she peered down at her phone, reading aloud.

"Beneath the orb that circles round, while hosts of fiends and foes abound,

the Vessel-born shall walk upright, fall from Grace, lose her light.

The sinful reign with demon hand, spread wide the Fallen's mighty band.

But I, the Chalice with full Sight, do see the One to cast off night.

Time will ebb, Time will flow, Light and Dark combat and grow

a ruthless army of good and ill, to war on Land; humanity kill.

When wickedness will rule on land, and all seems lost to mortal man,

One Great War shall begin, upon the hour She stands within

a ring of wordless, mighty breath; amidst the clutch of endless death.

Two great sons of Morning Star; divided, until death will mar.

One will woo the warrior maid, one will cut her to a shade.

Two sisters of the Vessel Light, blood to blood, will evil smite.

Have mercy on the mindless twin, when Wrath is right and Virtue sin.

Sun and Moon, eye to eye…

"That's where it ends.Well, that's where the paper is torn anyway."

I had no idea what to say, how to feel, what to think, but a trembling had started somewhere in my belly. The Morning Star—I knew the term well enough from Professor Bennett's class. The name for Lucifer before he had fallen.

"Am I the warrior maid?"

Kat nodded. "Yes. That is, I believe so. Also, you'll note the two brothers fighting over her."

"Two sisters of the Vessel Light, blood to blood, will evil smite," I mumbled, frowning. "What does that mean?"

"I always assumed it meant two women with the gift of the Vessel, sisters in their connection to the unique power."

"Blood to blood, will evil smite," I repeated. "Does that mean they smite evil together or evil smites them? It's not clear."

"No," said Jude standing right behind us. I jumped, spinning around. Damn, he did it again. "It isn't clear. I will agree, Kat, there are events tying the prophecy to the present, but there's still much that is uncertain. Let's not make too many judgments based on what we don't know."

He said this with such finality, there was no arguing. I didn't dare. And neither did Kat. I sighed.

"One thing's for damn sure."

"What's that?" asked Kat.

"I want to know how to defend myself, and I want to know now."

She smiled wickedly.

"Well, what the hell are we waiting for?"