“Anytime.”
I wanted to add, don’t let the door hit you on the way out, but somehow I refrained. Probably because I got a whiff of my hair and realized I was quickly losing precious shower time. Chase was going to be here any minute—any second.
The hotter than hot spray hit my skin, turning it slightly pink. As I stood, letting the water wash over me, I realized that something was off. Something about me was different. I couldn’t pinpoint it, just a sense. I felt…darker. Mightier. Wicked.
The shard of blackness on my soul had spread. I didn’t know how or why, but I knew I was unable to stop whatever change was happening to me. The wheels were already in motion, the transformation already complete. There was a pull to the underworld I’d never felt before. I didn’t want to admit it. I didn’t want to believe it. But in all reality, it was undeniably there.
What was I going to do about it? What did it mean?
My innocence was tainted, not that it hadn’t been long ago.
I lingered in the bathroom, not ready to face the problems that awaited me on the other side of the door. He had arrived mere seconds after I’d stepped into the shower, and I was totally stalling. I was a sucky girlfriend. His worry was coming through loud and clear, and here I was dilly-dallying because I was afraid. Afraid that he would somehow be able to see the change. That he would look at me differently.
Physically I looked the same, but our connection was so much deeper. Surely, if anyone could sense a difference in me, it would be Chase. Then again, maybe this whole change was all in my head and there was nothing to stress about.
Taking a long drawn-out breath, I turned the handle and was bombarded by a hug that swept me off my feet. I buried my head into his neck and held on. The exquisite scent of him and his love immediately dismissed my uncertainties.
“How many more times are you going to stop my heart?” he murmured near my ear.
“Today?” I asked teasingly.
He pulled me at arm’s length, definitely not in a playful mood, and actually, he looked tired. Knowing Chase, he hadn’t slept at all, while I had been in the opposite state—a deep slumber. “What happened?” he asked.
I shrugged. “The usual big-bad-nasties. I got some kind of superbug.”
“I could feel your suffering, could feel the illness consume you with frightening speed. Faster than I could get to you.” He was upset that he hadn’t gotten to me first.
Hearing him recall the episode in his own words drudged up unpleasant memories. “It’s no common bug I’ve ever had. I was unconscious for almost two days.”
“I think we can both agree that it wasn’t normal according to human or Divisa standards.”
“What did Ives have to say?”
He arched a brow.
“Travis told me you went to see him,” I supplied.
He shoved both hands into his pockets. “There is a reason why no one has ever completed the triforce,” he began in a flat voice.
I wasn’t positive I wanted to know the answer. If his ominous expression was any indicator, I was most definitely not going to like what he had to say. But curious by nature, I asked. “Why hasn’t it ever been done before?”
His sober eyes held mine and there was just a dash of fear in them. “None of them have lived long enough to complete the third.”
Cue doom music please—dun, dun, dun.
I was doomed.
“What about Ives? Wasn’t he bound to a human?” I was looking for anything to grab onto, any scrap of hope.
He nodded. “He was. Her name was Merci.” Keyword was, as in not anymore.
I thought I understood what he was telling me, but my mind didn’t want to compute. So I asked the obvious questions. “What happened to her? To Merci?”
His jaw set, and he stepped back. “Angel, you need to rest. We can talk about this when you are feeling better.”
I hoped he was joking. “Umm, I just slept for 48 hours. How much more do you think I can lie here? Tell me what you know,” I demanded, crossing my arms.
He angled his head and gave me a sad look. Finally he said, “She’s gone.”
My stomach plummeted. “Define gone, and cut the evasive crap. I am not going to fall apart on you.”
I could see the reluctance in his eyes. He let out a heavyhearted sigh. “Ives’s sire came for her.” She chose darkness. She chose the demon who sired Ives.”
I sucked in a sharp breath. “Holy bajesus.” I could not fathom how anyone in my position would chose to go to Hell versus a life linked to someone you loved. The bond did not work without a strong desire like love, so I assumed she was in love with Ives. Then why in God’s name would you give up love for a demon? For burning eternally in the afterlife?