Twelve

Twelve

DESI

Cannon and I sit across from each other at our favorite sports bar with a basket of fried pickles between us. He has this sixth sense when it comes to me needing some quality time with a friend. He barely had the words fried pickles out of his mouth before I'd grabbed my purse and was out the door.

The house was feeling stuffy with the lingering question of what happened last night. Jace went about his routine like it was no big deal. He drank his green vomit morning smoothie after working out and asked me if I had plans for the day. We exchanged small talk until he reminded me to rinse out my bowl and start the dishwasher before retreating to his office. At no point was there a good opportunity to work in a casual Hey, did we watch each other masturbate last night?

I'm wondering if my imagination was playing tricks on me. Because if it wasn't, how could he be so indifferent about it? When people talk about the elephant in the room, no elephant is bigger than watching your roommate get off.

"So, are you going to talk to me about what's bothering you?" Cannon asks, popping a pickle drenched in ranch dressing into his mouth.

"What do you mean?" I ask too quickly, cramming another pickle in right behind the one I just ate, washing them both down with a big gulp of Diet Coke.

He laughs and takes a swig of his beer. "You're inhaling those pickles like you may never see them again after tonight. And you've hardly said a word all day. Come on, tell me. You'll feel better."

"Okay, okay. So last night was the charity dinner with Jace, right?"

"Yeah, he said you two had a good time, really charmed Matt."

"We did. Matt basically said he'd back Jace's company if he signed this Edmonds guy, so it was a success."

Cannon stares at me blankly with a pickle dangling between his fingers. "So . . . I'm a little lost on what the problem is."

"Hold on, sir. Be patient."

Cannon sits back in his seat and devours the pickle. "Yes, ma'am, please continue."

"Jace and I had a really good time. . . we danced. A lot. And we drank. No wait, he didn't drink, but I did. I had a little too much champagne."

"Desi?" he says, lifting his brows in a way that tells me to get to the point.

"We were flirting, and it sort of got a little bit out of control."

Cannon sits forward, his blue eyes lighting up. "Oh? Wait, wait. Are you about to tell me I was right? That Jace is attracted to you?"

My face reddens and I look down at the table, suddenly very interested in the place mat. "I—"

Cannon's chuckle has a devious tone as he slides over to my side of the booth and tips my chin up with his finger. "Spill it."

"Basically, I made it clear that I wanted to kiss someone, and I wanted it to be him. And he made it clear that would never happen. I was embarrassed, ran upstairs to my room, and went to bed. But then . . ." I take a deep breath and continue. "I noticed that when he came to bed, he didn't follow the same routine as—"

Cannon cuts me off. "Wait. Are you saying you can see into his room?"

"Yeah," I say with a sheepish shrug. "He can see into mine too . . . that's what this is about, actually."

"How so?"

"I . . . I think . . . I think Jace and I used each other to get off last night, and not just with mental images. I think we watched each other through our bedroom windows," I blurt, all my words running together. As soon as I finish the sentence, I drop my head into my arms on the table, mortified.

"Oh!" Cannon stares straight ahead and eats another pickle.

"Oh? Oh!" I throw my hands up, catching his attention again. "Come on, Cannon. I need some help working through this. The man is acting like nothing happened. I'm starting to think something was in my drink last night, and I made it all up."

He stays quiet for a moment and from the lines on his forehead, I can tell he's really thinking it through. After taking a gulp of beer, he says, "What did you expect him to do this morning, come downstairs, give you a kiss, and say thanks for the peep show?"

I open my mouth to come back with a snarky remark, but snap it shut. What did I expect Jace to do? He didn't make it awkward. He just didn't bring it up, but neither did I. If I couldn't find the right moment, maybe he couldn't either.

Propping my chin in my palm, I toss another pickle in my mouth. "I don't know. It's just weird that he would turn me down for a kiss but want to share something so intimate with me."

"I don't think he planned it, Desi. The urge hit him, and you happened to be watching."

"But he watched me too. And it was . . . it was more than just watching. It was like we were following each other's leads. Like we were actually together. I could see his mouth moving, and I could tell what he was saying. And he was telling me what—" My voice cracks and I clench my thighs under the table. "He was telling me what to do."

"I can't speak for Jace. All I can say is welcome to the complexities of men."

"But I know you would have said something to me, so it can't just be the ‘complexities of men.'"

He nods like I've made a good point. "Let me rephrase. Welcome to the complexities of damaged people."

I groan and press my fingers to my eyes. I don't have time for complicated. Especially from a man who isn't even in the running to be my eternal partner. What I need right now is honesty and clear signals. Jace shouldn't be taking up space in my head.

"Why can't these guys be more like you? You're not damaged."

"Trust me, I have my issues." Cannon runs his hand back and forth over my shoulder blades. "Talk to him, Desi. I still stand by my belief that he's reasonable. Get it off your chest and move on."

I lay my head on his shoulder and sigh. "Fine. I'll talk to him. But only because I want us to move on from this so that I can continue doing what I need to do."

"I hope that isn't peeping through my window," he says, lifting one side of his mouth in a playful smile.

I scrunch my face in embarrassment and groan, "It's not."

"Good. Let's get out of here. I have to get up early for a business trip."

He throws a wad of money on the table, and I hold out a neatly folded bill to pay for my portion. He swats my hand away, refusing to let me pay again. It's sweet, but nights like these aren't dates. We're friends chatting about life, and it feels wrong not to contribute in some way. I slide the money into the side pocket of my wallet, deciding that I'm going to keep it for a day when I can treat him.

Once we're in the car, I realize I've never asked Cannon a really basic question. "What is it you do for a living? You're always working, whether at the office or out of town on a business trip."

Cannon turns the radio to his favorite '90s station and says, "I help people organize their business."

I bite my lips between my teeth and nod, holding back my laughter. Cannon has a difficult time following the basic rules in the house. It's hard to believe that my disorderly friend advises others on how to keep their business organized.

"I know what you're thinking and stop. I'm on my way to becoming the top dog."

"The king of organization. How fitting." This time I do laugh.

Cannon rolls his eyes, but he smiles at the same time. "It's going to happen. It's the reason I rented a room from Jace. Once I'm at the top, I most likely won't stay here. Off to bigger and better."

When I get myself under control, I say, "That's honestly impressive, Cannon. You certainly deserve whatever promotion you're working toward because you're always busy doing something for your career. I commend you on that. All I do is unload the dishwasher and look for a boyfriend."

"I'm sure all the chores and man searching will lead to bigger things. It sounds like your father will be happy if you pull it off."

"He will be, but the question is, will I be happy?"

"I think that's solely up to you, Desi. No one can control your happiness but you."

If only I could have control over my whole life. If every decision I ever made could be my own. But that will never be the case. I'll always have to play by my realm's rules.

And right now, those rules are really messing with my future.

When we get inside the house, I say, "Thank you for taking me to eat and getting my mind off everything for a little bit. I needed that advice from you too. It's a little embarrassing how clueless I am when it comes to all this stuff."

He smiles and pulls me in for a hug. "No need to be embarrassed, Desi. You'll figure out how to navigate it all. You're just in an atypical situation. Cut yourself some slack."

"Yeah, I'll get right on that," I say under my breath, and Cannon just chuckles, kissing me on the forehead.

"Get some rest, Desi."

"Yeah, you too."

After Cannon goes to bed, I look around with a sigh. It's my week to clean the living room and do the bathroom and kitchen laundry, and I haven't gotten around to either yet. It's late, but my nagging thoughts will make it impossible to sleep. Since Jace and Cannon are both in their rooms for the night, I can get things done the easy way and burn off some steam.

After changing out of my jeans and into more comfy clothes, I plop onto the couch with my phone and begin my chores.

I point at the vacuum on the stairs with one finger, sending it back and forth from one step to the next. With my other hand, I use my thumb to scroll through my favorite clothing website while barely lifting my index finger to take care of the bath towels in the laundry basket. They float in the air, folding themselves into squares and dropping into another empty basket one by one. I sway my foot gently through the air, directing the feather duster over the TV and electronics.

At this rate, my chores will be done in five minutes flat, and I can go upstairs to—

"What in the fucking magical ass Mary Poppins trippy shit is this?" Jace's voice floats in from the kitchen, and my heart stops.

I spring to my feet, and the towel drops back into the basket, the vacuum topples down the stairs, and the feather duster falls to the floor with a clack, my concentration broken. "I—uh—I—what are you doing? I thought you were in bed?" I croak.

Jace rubs his eyes with one hand and tugs at his hair with the other. "Do I look any kind of off to you? Is my skin a sickly color? Do you think someone spiked my drink? Fuck! How do I tell a client that one of their employees slipped me a hallucinogen?" Jace falls onto one of the barstools and yanks on his tie, as if it's strangling him. "Their marketing director gave me the creeps. I should have changed seats. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I drove home like this." He pulls at the collar of his dress shirt and several of the buttons pop off. His face has now turned a sickly color and sweat beads his brow.

I toss my phone to the couch and rush across the room. I have no idea where he's been, but I know he needs to calm down. "Jace, I need you to breathe," I say, invading his space and placing my palms on his knees. "You didn't get drugged. You're fine. I promise you, okay?" He doesn't meet my eyes, and I place two fingers under his chin and lift his gaze to mine. "Do you hear me?"

"I can't . . . I can't go through that again. And if I hurt someone . . . I can't, Desi."

My eyebrows knit together, and I forget my situation for the moment. "Go through what? Jace, what are you talking about? You didn't hurt anyone," I whisper, sliding my hand from his chin up his cheek and into his hair. He shakes underneath my touch, and I shift so I'm a bit closer to him. "Jace, talk to me."

"I can't get into a car accident. I couldn't live through that again."

My skin tightens and my heart squeezes. Before I know what I'm doing, I'm reaching out and brushing my fingers against the material on his shirt, right over where I know the scar is. I didn't have much time to think about it the day I first saw the mangled skin. Everything got out of hand so quickly. But the seconds I spent looking at it were enough to know something terrible happened to him.

"This scar. It's from a car accident?"

He nods while gulping down air. His eyes are rimmed red with tears waiting to fall. I've never seen him so freaked out before. Up until this moment, I believed that Jace Wilder was unshakable.

His breathing isn't getting any steadier, and my worry is mounting. "Slow down your breathing, Jace. You're scaring me with how much air you're gulping down. Do you want some water? What can I do for you? I don't want to crowd you. Some people want someone close to them in times like this, some people don't."

He takes my hands and presses my palms to the back of his head. "Rub. Slow."

While my fingers graze his scalp, he rests his forehead to my chest and presses his hands flat to my back. His breathing slows as does his trembling. We remain like that for several minutes before he takes a deep breath and says, "I'm sorry."

"No. Don't apologize, Jace," I say, continuing my scalp massage. "I want to be there for you. You've been there for me when I've needed you; let me return the favor."

He lifts his head and the crease between his eyes is so deep. "Tell me what the hell is going on. What I saw can't be real."

I close my eyes and take a step away from him, dropping my hands to my sides. I can't tell him what I am. My father was very clear about that before I left. He gave me permission to tell one human, and that person had to be my eternal partner. It made sense at the time. He would have to know what I am and where he'll spend the rest of eternity. Angels and demons may influence humans to see the value in what we can offer after this life, but we should never do something that jeopardizes them making the decision for themselves. Telling Jace that I'm a demon could put his eternal happiness at risk.

"I don't want to put you in a panic again," I say in all honesty.

"Desideria, I will spiral again if you don't give me an explanation. Don't let me make up my own. I don't want to feel like a fool when there's a simple reason why I saw what I did."

"That's the thing; there is a reason, but it's not simple. And telling you could have terrible repercussions on—"

"Just tell me."

The desperation in his voice is like a knife straight to my heart. He needs the truth to gain control of his emotions. If I don't explain what I am, Jace could end up in a worse place than he was a minute ago. I don't want to be the reason he endures that type of pain again.

"Okay. Hang in here with me for a second. Do you believe in angels and demons?" I ask.

He bolts from the stool and shuffles around in the cabinet next to the sink, pulling out an orange prescription bottle. After a short struggle with the childproof cap, he shakes a pill into his palm and slips it under his tongue. Several long seconds pass, and he remains as still as stone. Afraid he's gone into shock, I ease forward but stop when he turns back to me with a steely expression. He crosses his arms and takes several deep breaths, filling his lungs so much his shirt strains against his chest. "Don't fuck with me right now. I'm not in a good place."

I want to square my shoulders and match his demeanor but going head-to-head with him isn't going to make this situation any easier. I'm pretty sure he just had a panic attack. There's no way I can add to his stress. He needs to know that he wasn't seeing things, and that everything will be all right.

I sit on the stool he vacated and fold my hands on the counter. "I'm not fucking with you. I need you to answer the question."

He tosses up his hands and scrunches his nose, clearly not understanding where this conversation is going. "I don't know. I don't discredit the possibility of beings that oversee humans. They haven't been proven, but they haven't been disproven either."

"What if I told you it's not about overseeing humans . . . but letting humans prepare to choose what they want for eternity—chaos or peace? Angels are representatives of peace, demons are agents of chaos." Jace just stares at me, so I keep talking. "What you saw when you came in . . . that was me using the power I've been given. Jace, I'm a demon princess from Infernis—sort of like the realm humans call Hell." I hold my breath, waiting for the explosive reaction that is sure to come.

"Perfect. Because I'm the one who will bring balance to the force. Vader is my father."

I roll my eyes when I realize he's referencing Star Wars. "No, Jace. This isn't a fantasy movie. I'm telling you the truth."

He paces the length of the kitchen, running his palm over his face. "You sound ridiculous right now."

"Then you tell me what you thought you saw," I say, sweeping my hand in front of me and giving him center stage.

"I don't know!"

"You do. I just told you I have powers!"

"If you're a demon, where are your horns and tail?"

I scoff. "I didn't take you for someone who makes judgments based on stereotypes. Not all demons have horns and tails. But I'll explain—my family and I are High Demons. We don't have them. A couple of my brothers' eternal partners do, though. What else can I do to prove it to you? Do you want me to use my powers right here?"

He leans against the counter and crosses his arms and ankles. "Sure. I'd love to see what you can do, demon princess."

It's written all over his face; he thinks I've lost my mind. He's waiting for a subpar illusion that he'll analyze in order to put me in my place. And then he'll send me packing. I either scare the hell out of him with something amazing and risk him asking me to leave, or I give him what he's expecting, and he gives me the boot because he's scared I'm going to chop him into little pieces while he sleeps.

I place my hands on my hips. "Just so you know, the Circle I'm set to rule isn't exactly the coolest or most badass. I'm basically the princess of the laziest demons and energies in Infernis. So it isn't like I can start fires with my hands or blow things up. But I can do this."

I stand straight and turn toward the living room. Raising my hands, I will the 72-inch flatscreen television to come to me, slowly, so he can see exactly what's happening. The wires snap out of the back, left like discarded strings sprawled over the entertainment center. And since my power hasn't failed me once, the TV floats toward us at the desired speed, only coming to a stop at the island, where I set it down behind where Jace had just been leaning so smugly, waiting for me to prove myself.

"Proof enough for you?" I ask, resting my hands back on my hips and lifting my shoulders in a shrug.

He doesn't answer me but asks a question of his own in pure awe. "You can levitate shit?"

"It's more about moving things in my line of sight. You know, not having to lift a finger and all."

"Do it again. But this time can you hook all the wires back up?"

I snort. Not even my powers can take his focus away from a tidy house. I send the television back and the wires move like vines until each is in their designated place. "Do you want to watch me vacuum, dust, and fold again?"

"No, I'm weirded out enough for one day." He steps closer to me. "What about the story about you needing to find a husband? Is that true or do you have a sinister reason for being here?"

I stay rooted to the spot, letting him make all the moves. I don't want to scare him any more than I already have. "That's absolutely true. No sinister reasons whatsoever. It's a long story. Are you sure you want to hear it?"

He doesn't take his eyes off me as he says, "Absolutely."

"Okay. So like I said, I am set to rule my own Circle in Infernis—Sloth, obviously. Things have become more hectic over the millennia, and my dad, Chaos, can no longer rule alone. One of his stipulations for us taking over our own Circle is that we have an eternal partner. They don't have to be romantic or a particular gender. It just takes two to rule—a buddy system if you will."

"Even for your brothers?"

"Yes. They all have an eternal partner. Most of them are spouses, but a couple of them are platonic. They all found their match in a fellow demon. Some have been together for centuries, some only for a decade—my brother Fier is so proud that it took him a long time to find someone he was willing to share power with. You've met one of my brothers and his partner. Mandis, the one who came here with me the first time, he's the epitome of gluttony. He overdoes everything—food, drink, love, all of it. He and Glen, his partner, are disgustingly in love. And Lux . . . can you imagine being the prince of Lust and having to commit to one person for the rest of eternity? He and Bernadette are still practically newlyweds. So it's not like I'm that far behind, but now they're waiting on me."

"And you don't think you could find a demon like they did?"

I shake my head. "All six of my brothers, and my parents, they're all so chaotic. All the demons are, even me. But I need something different. I don't think I can rule effectively with another demon because I need someone who complements me. Not someone who's the same. I can't imagine being with someone like me forever. And when a member of the royal family says forever, we mean it. When you choose an eternal partner, that's it. It's for all time. And I don't want to choose an eternal partner who's platonic or just someone who's a viable leader. I want to marry for love. I want someone who, like me, wants more of a balance in life. So my dad thought I might be able to find someone in the human realm since I wasn't having any luck with the demons. He sent me here and gave me ninety days. If I don't succeed, he's picking a demon for me. And I'll be stuck with them."

Jace cocks a brow. "You have ninety days to find someone to be your forever? Most humans can't handle a lifetime after dating for five years."

"Yeah, well, that's not how it works for me as the future queen of Sloth. I don't get to follow human rules. Honestly, I don't think my father thought this through. But regardless, that's what I have to work with, and now I'm almost down to sixty days. Any day now one of my brothers—or who knows, Chaos himself—will pop up to check in and make sure I'm making progress. Because if they think I'm just screwing around, they'll pull the plug and it's an arranged marriage for me," I say, running my hand through my hair and gripping it at the roots, feeling the walls start to close in on me.

I've tried not to let the stress of this situation get to me, but now, sharing it with someone else, it's become more real. And I'm terrified.

"How would that work between a demon and a human? Aren't you immortal, or at least live a thousand times longer than us?"

Jace's entire attitude has changed. He's propped his elbows on the counter, and just the way he listens tells me he's enthralled. I can't help but smile when I answer.

"We're immortal. And if I choose a human, he'll have to become immortal as well."

"How is that possible? Are we talking like, how a vampire turns a human, or elixirs? Do you cast a spell on him?"

"One big revelation at a time. I'm scared your brain will combust and your heart will stall out if I give you all life's secrets."

He looks off into space, pulling at his bottom lip. I wonder if he is trying to figure out the answer himself. No doubt he's diving deep into fantasies about radioactive spiders and superhuman aliens. I'm just becoming familiar with his creative brain, but I know it's marveling at all the possibilities.

He turns his attention to me and says the most unexpected thing. "You know I'm giving you my day for chores now that I know you just have to twirl your finger around to get things done."

I laugh, and it feels good. Part of me was scared that I'd lost all the ground I'd gained with him. "That's a fair trade after I freaked you out, and probably took a decade off your life."

"It's worth it. I like knowing humans aren't alone."

"Just think of us as your friendly guides to selecting the perfect afterlife for your energy."

"But if you don't find a partner then there might not be a place for the lazy energies to live out their eternity."

"You catch on quick," I say with a wink.

"All right, guess we need to get to work finding you a man to drag kicking and screaming to hell with you."

"Very funny," I say.

His smile fades, and he gets that disconnected look again. It's almost like his brain leaves for a few seconds. All the information I just gave him is a lot, and I worry he's going into shock again. In a matter of minutes, I've changed the universe as he knows it. I wonder if he regrets knowing what happens when his body and mind die.

He returns from his thoughts and locks eyes with me. "You're right. This is a lot for me to take in. Be patient with me as I navigate this, Desi. I'm sure I'm going to say the wrong things. I've had my near run-in with the other side, and I've got to admit that I'm a little freaked out about having it so close to home again. No pun intended."

"The car accident you mentioned earlier," I say, leaning against the counter next to where he stands. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"There isn't much to say." He walks to the refrigerator and removes a bottle of water. After taking a long chug, he continues. "I was driving behind a truck that was carrying metal piping. The company didn't secure it well and when the driver slammed on his brakes, the strap broke. A pipe flew through my windshield, sliced right through my chest, and went out of my back next to my spine. It nicked my lung, I spent almost four weeks in a coma, and with the damage to my nerves, the doctor thought there was a good chance I wouldn't walk again. I should have walked away with millions from my lawsuit—been set for life—but the guy with the most money is usually the winner. And that wasn't me. After paying the attorneys and medical bills, I had just enough from the settlement to pay off my student loans, buy my extremely safe BMW, and put a little into savings before getting Aftermath off the ground."

I'm speechless as I picture the scar on his chest. To think of Jace being in such a dire medical situation makes me feel uneasy. He's always so controlled, so put together; to know he almost didn't make it doesn't even seem possible. "That's terrifying. I don't blame you for not wanting another brush with death. But I can promise you this: I'm not here to hurt you, and I have zero say in when a human's energy goes to the ‘other side.' Neither does my father. Do you trust me?"

He leans back on the counter and crosses his arms. The way he examines me makes me fidget side to side, much like the water bottle dangling from his fingers. I watch it brush back and forth against his ribs until he says, "I trust you."

I didn't realize how worried I'd been that he was going to kick me to the curb until he uttered those words, and I exhale in relief. "Thank you." I glance at the TV. "I don't know about you, but I'm wired. Do you want to watch TV with me? I don't think I could go to sleep now if I tried."

"You aren't going to turn me into some nocturnal ghoul, are you? I enjoy my early morning workouts."

I smirk and roll my eyes. "I'll try not to. The world might crash down on me if I disrupt your routine."

"It might. It's an important routine," he says with a sly grin.

After everything he went through tonight, I have a feeling that there's a lot of truth behind those words. I'm starting to understand his constant need for order. A little bit of control when you feel like everything is falling apart is important.

"You pick the movie while I run upstairs to change." He takes the steps two at a time then pauses. "And Desi?"

"Yes, Jace?"

"Don't pick something too sappy."