I turned away, doing my best to ignore the feeling stirring in my gut. Then again, it wasn’t hard. There was an angry looking wound on his right forearm, but the shoulder…that one was bad. There was a chunk of skin missing, and the edges were peeled over, still bleeding after all this time.
“You’re lucky I have a strong stomach.” I pulled out the alcohol and arranged the rest of the supplies on the bed. I’d gotten a sewing kit and dental floss, and I was glad because the wound on his shoulder was definitely going to need stitches. “Otherwise you’d be in trouble.”
Jax’s muscles tensed as I went to work cleaning the wounds, and the demon sighed. “I would have survived without medical attention.”
I couldn’t help it. I jammed my thumb into the outer edge of the wound on Jax’s shoulder, and Azi hissed in pain. “Good for you, but his body needed medical attention. I’m not going to let you ruin—”
The demon caught my hand in Jax’s and squeezed tight. I waited for it to say something—anything—but instead it went back to staring straight ahead. I decided to let it go and kept working until both wounds were clean and dressed.
“There,” I said as I stuffed everything unused back into the plastic bag. The way we were going, we’d probably need it again in the not so distant future. “You should get some rest. His body needs to heal.”
I was sure the demon would argue with me, would tell me it wasn’t Jax’s body anymore, or that, in its infinite power and glory, it didn’t need something as pathetic and human as rest, but instead Azi nodded. I waited as the demon pulled off Jax’s boots and burrowed under the thin motel comforter. It said nothing to me as it rolled to face the wall—which was good. Perfect, even, because I was about to lose it.
The weight of the last few weeks pressed down on me. In less than a month, my entire world had turned upside down. I’d been controlled, killed, used, and chased down like a dog. It should have broken even the strongest spirit, but somehow I was still kicking. Still raging, fists tight and arms at the ready—even if most days if felt like we were fighting a losing battle. And somewhere in the back of my mind, I hadn’t cared. The one thing that had come out of it all, the bright spot in the mire, was Jax. He’d come home. He’d come home, and I’d gotten him back.
Only to lose him again.
Before I realized what I was doing, my feet carried me across the room in soft, quiet steps with no hesitation. It wasn’t Jax lying in that bed, but it looked like him. Smelled like him. Felt like him…
I slid my sneakers off, gently pulled back the covers, and eased myself onto the bed beside him. And as I snuggled close and closed my eyes, I didn’t let myself think about Chase and the stone. I let my mind wander back to when things had been normal. When the worst things in our world had been the near-constant bickering between Jax and Chase, and Kelly’s overbearing opinion on how I needed to live my life.
I ignored the fact that Azi wouldn’t return Jax to me. I pushed aside the growing fear that I’d never get him back. I simply wrapped my arms around myself and snuggled close to the boy I’d loved nearly my entire life. I forced myself to appreciate that no matter how long we’d gotten to be together, in a world where so many horrible things existed, so much pain and darkness, we’d found love.
But the truth was, it hadn’t been enough time. I wanted more.
I needed more.
Chapter Nineteen
Azirak/Jax
“You believe me now.”
The demon hovered across the room as tendrils of black smoke swirled around its—my—shadowy face. Azi was right. I believed it. I hadn’t wanted to at first, but the truth was like a tornado now, knocking down my door and threatening to tear away my house.
I was going to die.
“How long?”
“Not long now.” It drifted from the corner and stopped in front of me. Its head tilted from side to side, and I was able to catch a glimpse of detail—the curve of my chin and several locks of hair. I’d rather have cut it, but Sam seemed to like it longer, so the demon left it alone. “I am sorry.”
The funny thing was, the bastard actually sounded sorry. Even in the white room, I felt what it felt. The demon expressed true remorse—not that it fucking helped. I needed a solution. A way to work this out so it didn’t end in oblivion. I didn’t need pity.
“Okay,” I said, resigned. I would either spend my last hours, minutes, whatever, attempting to fix this, or I’d be with her. “Is your offer still on the table?”
“I will return control over to you for the time you have remaining.” It drifted back into the corner, enough of the smoke dissipating so that I could see its lips moving. “You can say good-bye.”
I wasn’t ready to say good-bye.
Standing, I nodded. “You’ll let me keep it until the end? No matter what?”