Demons (Darkness #4)(16)

“What does the link tell you?”

Guilt rode through it heavily, laden with a sense of failure. My heart dropped. He did know. He was sacrificing his dignity, allowing others to see that he couldn’t provide for me as he ought, in order to keep me safe. This was terrible, but it was what he wanted.

I shook my head, trying to think of a way out of this. And failing.

Chapter 5

Stefan sat in the early morning light at the back of the mansion, breathing the fresh air to calm himself. The link with Sasha had winked out a half hour before. He’d felt her doubt, and then she’d muffled their tie, something she did when she was uncomfortable with his presence. It didn’t take a genius to know why.

After another fifteen minutes he heard her soft, even pace behind him, making her way to the stone bench on which he sat. He tried not to hunch in on himself as she settled quietly beside him. She didn’t touch him as she usually did—not even a glance of the arm.

“So…” She stared out at the budding day, the trees swaying in the chilly breeze of the morning. “You’re under the impression I need to share emotion-space with Sir Stares-A-Lot, huh?”

His intestines felt like crawling snakes. “I let you down, Sasha. You could’ve died.”

“True. I could’ve died a few times since I met you. I’ve been overextending my whole magical life. And you’ve always been there to pick up the pieces. I trust you, Stefan. I trust that. You’ve always kept me safe.”

“Not this time.”

“To err is human. Even though, you know, you’re not actually human. Look, Stefan…tell me what’s wrong. Confide in me. Don’t just pawn me off on some blondie vampire look-alike because you’re too chicken to open up to your future mate. Please.”

“I just…” How did you tell the love of your life that you weren’t worthy of her? That you were a coward. That the male she pledged her life to could not provide for her.

His body hunched.

“Hey,” she whispered, swinging her leg over his and sitting on his lap, facing him. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pulled his face into her neck. “I know why you did it, okay? I know it was something to do with your parents. It’s okay to be afraid, Stefan. We can’t be hard all the time. If you can’t admit it to me, you’ll end up brittle. You don’t have to hide that stuff from me.”

He shook his head again, emotion he’d been pushing down since he was young bubbling to the surface. “I can’t,” he pleaded.

“Tell me what happened,” she whispered. “To your parents. Confide in me.” She hugged him tighter, combing her fingers through his hair. Soft support. Unconditional love such that he could barely remember.

Before he could help himself, it was all tumbling out.

He’d been sitting in the living room as the sun sprinkled through the windows. The knock at the door had echoed down the empty hall. He’d opened it to Jestin, one of the warriors that fought regularly with Stefan’s father, scratched and beaten to hell. His face warred with death and sorrow. Lead had settled deep in Stefan’s young chest, then, struggling with the dread he’d felt as he read the defeat in Jestin’s eyes. The loss.

“Jestin was the only one who lived,” Stefan heard himself say. The words sounded hollow. “Two humans called a demon up on the territory line. We were tight with the Mata at that time, sharing the coverage of patrolling that line. The demon was a strong one—very strong. It dominated, then killed, those who had called it. The Mata, with some of our clan, were supposed to provide the first layer of defense while a team of magic workers tried to cut it down. Tried to banish it.”

Stefan shook his head, his body quivering under the petite body of his beloved. “That thing ripped through three people in a split second. Just as the clan was scrambling, trying to get control, the Mata took off. Most of the first layer of defense ran like cowards. My father, a fierce fighter and the Second of the clan, did what he could to organize his men, but they weren’t enough. Not after the Mata had fled. The magic circle was working on it, but that demon took down the line in record time, my father fighting a good fight, but…

“My mother was a green. She had intricate abilities with magic, so she always worked the spells in a Merge with the backing of a few powerful magic users. She couldn’t fight—not with the responsibility of casting a spell to take that thing down. She stood where she was, resolute, as, one by one, everyone got chopped down around her. She suffered a hit right before the spell did its job. That thing cut out her midsection. It cut out my unborn sister. Jestin said that when she hit the ground, she was dead. As was the fetus.”

Sasha squeezed him hard. Fire burned away his insides, remembering the day he’d heard he was going to be a brother. He was going to be the big protector—his sister’s own personal guard unit. His dad had given him a male-to-male talk about the seriousness of his new duty—he would have to be steadfast to her and keep her safe from any danger. His father handed him this personal mission, the responsibility of a grown male.

At the time, Stefan had felt like the most powerful male alive.

It had all been torn away, along with his parents, with each word out of Jestin’s mouth.

“Every time I think of a demon,” Stefan purged quietly, “I think of losing everything. What if the Mata had stayed? The group would’ve taken some losses, yes. That thing was manic. I might’ve lost one parent, but my mom would’ve been protected. She would’ve made it. I would have a sister. I wouldn’t be so damn alone…”