A Darker Past (The Darker Agency #2)(27)
“You didn’t think we should know about that? That I should know?” What I really wanted was for him to tell me Dad forbade him to come clean. I’d been annoyed when Dad first told me, but thinking about it more and more, I was pissed, and just a little bit hurt. I didn’t have any illusions that relationships were all honesty and rose petals scattered in a path across the floor, and since the night we’d put the Sins back in the box, we hadn’t really talked about the actual definition of ours, relationship or not. Lukas was working at the agency. With me and Mom. The fact that he was a potential ticking time bomb should have come up.
“It’s not as though I was keeping it from you.” His voice rose and he stood. The book in his lap slid to the floor as his eyes met mine with the spark of challenge.
If I didn’t know better, I’d say he was trying to intimidate me. The annoyance faded, giving way to ire. I squared my shoulders. “In this century, not telling someone something important is the definition of keeping secrets from them.”
“That’s just it,” he snapped. “This isn’t important. It doesn’t change anything.”
“Sure it does.” I snorted. “According to Dad, you’re one big emotional time bomb.”
“I have it mostly under control.” Arms rigid at his sides, he curled his fists tight, to the point he was trembling.
“Mostly?” I hopped off the desk and folded my arms. He was getting angrier and angrier, and a small voice in the back of my head said not to push the issue, but I couldn’t help it. Pushing him was the perfect way to prove my point. “So you were totally in control at Kendra’s when you decided to blindly charge an unknown demon? Or earlier when you wanted to rip my clothes off?” I cleared my throat. “Both times?”
“Rip your—I never—” He balked, and for just a second, paled. But it didn’t last. His expression turned stormy, and his jaw tightened. He came around the desk to stand in front of me and slammed his hand down on top of a stack of papers. “I was locked in a box for a hundred and thirty-one years. I was stabbed and killed and brought back to life. Now I’m becoming a demon. I think I’m allowed a little adjustment. I don’t have to report my every move to you, Jessie.”
His tone kind of hurt. He was right, of course. The last thing I wanted to do was stifle him. But I couldn’t help feeling like we were at a turning point. That his withholding the information meant something substantial. “I agree. All I’m saying is that you should have told me about this.”
He came a little closer. “And what would it have changed?” His voice was sharp and his expression one of fury. All he was missing was the flash of red in his eyes and the ensuing chaos that followed, and it would be Wrath all over again. “The way you look at me? How you feel?”
“Well, that’s just the stupidest statement ever,” I yelled. I planted my hands on the desk, leaning over to meet him. He was half past losing it, but somehow I just didn’t care. Maybe it was all my years facing down bigger and badder things, or maybe it was the demon side of me, rearing its fearless and infinitely stubborn head. “My dad’s a demon. I’m half demon. My damn dog is a demon.”
He backed away, blinking several times. Some of the tension drained from his body. It was like watching a balloon deflate slowly. With a sigh, he said, “My freedom from the box was supposed to make me normal again. Instead I’m finding it’s sometimes harder to control my anger than when Wrath was fused to my soul.” His eyes met mine, and my chest tightened. “It’s not supposed to be harder, Jessie. It was supposed to get easier.”
Great. Now I felt guilty about yelling. “No one ever told you? Nothing in life that’s worth anything is ever easy.”
He shook his head. More of the anger faded, giving way to a look of sadness that nearly melted me. “Every moment I’m consciously telling myself to keep calm. To not rage and scream. To not hurt the people I care about…”
“No way,” I said, taking his hands in mine. “I don’t believe for a second that you’ll go all demonic anger and mayhem on my ass. But a heads-up would have been good. Maybe keeping you out of situations that might set you off until the change is finished—”
“Set me off?” He ripped his hands from mine and slammed the right one against my desk again, this time sending the stapler off the edge, and I won’t lie—I jumped. “Everything potentially sets me off!”
“I didn’t—I had no idea.”
His expression softened again, but there was still an edge to it. A simmering spark so close to igniting. “It’s gotten worse over the last three weeks. Little things are making me angry. Dropping things on the floor. Klaire telling me to file paperwork.”
“You do work—”
He leveled his stare at me, and I closed my mouth. “People interrupting me… It’s everything. Even you…”
It felt like someone stabbed me in the heart. “Me?”
“Not like that. Not like you think.” He sighed. “I know right from wrong, Jessie. I know how I feel about you and how I should act around you. I know there are lines that should not be crossed, and it angers me that I want to cross them. I did cross them.”
I threw up my hands. Apparently, he’d never heard the expression it takes two to tango. I’d been right there with him, crossing that line. I’d wanted to do more than kiss just as much as he had.