The Sweetest Burn (Broken Destiny #2)

“He’s fine now,” she said, to my great relief. “Although he was half-dead when Brutus flew the two of you back to us. Took all the manna we had on the bus to heal both of you.”

I sat up, and when the room seemed to tilt, that’s when I realized that my wounds might be healed, but I wasn’t all the way recovered. “That was smart, sending Brutus ahead of you. I passed out right after he got there, and I don’t know if Adrian could’ve managed to drive to you in his condition.”

“Probably not,” Jasmine said. Then she laughed, though it sounded more choked than amused. “Guess I can’t hate Adrian anymore, considering that he took a bullet and what looked like a hell of a beating in order to get you out of that realm.”

“I hope you do stop,” I said, holding her stare. “You don’t need to like him, but he hasn’t done anything to earn your hatred.”

She ran a hand through the white streak in her hair. “He has by being one of them.”

“A Judian?” I sighed. “He can’t help that any more than I can help being the last Davidian.”

“Not that,” she said. “A demon. I don’t care if he is technically human, he’s just like them. They’re also totally ruthless except when it comes to whatever they care about, and if they want something, they’ll stomp over anyone and everything to get it, too.”

It was so close to the concern I’d felt when Adrian drove away from those stranded motorists without a backward glance that I simply stared at her for a moment. Could she be right? No, I decided, shoving those fears away. She can’t be.

“Circumstances have forced Adrian to be single-minded and ruthless. They’ve forced me to be that way sometimes, too,” I said, conviction growing as I thought about the people I’d had to leave behind in the realm. I hadn’t wanted to; I’d had no choice. Neither had Adrian, most of the time. That didn’t mean either of us were heartless to the point of resembling demons. Jasmine just didn’t understand.

Jasmine let out a ragged breath. “Maybe I shouldn’t be judging Adrian. I’ve done awful things, too.”

“No you haven’t,” I said at once.

She looked away, and her shoulders started to tremble. “I—I didn’t tell you this before, but they tortured Tommy to get me to answer questions about you. I didn’t want to, but what they did to him...” Her voice cracked and tears spilled down her face. “It broke me. I told them everything. I sold you out, Ivy.”

The pain in her voice was so raw, it tore at me. I couldn’t imagine how awful it had been for her, seeing her boyfriend tortured by the most sadistic creatures in existence. I tried to speak, to tell her that I understood, but she held up her hand almost violently.

“Afterward, they killed Tommy anyway, and they laughed at me for believing that they’d let him live if I told them what they wanted to know. After that, I wanted to die, too, but the hate...it kept me going. It was the only thing that did, and now, if I let it go, I don’t think I’ll be able to make it,” she finished in an agonized whisper before dissolving into tears.

“Yes, you will,” I said, taking her hands and gripping them. “You’re strong, Jasmine. So much stronger than they’ll ever be, no matter how many powers they have. And you didn’t sell me out. You didn’t know where I was or what I was doing the whole time the demons had you, so don’t feel guilty about that a moment longer.” My voice rose as I tried to force her to look at me. “And even if you had known and you told them, I would still love you. You’re my sister, and nothing will ever change that.”

She finally looked up, and the mixture of hope and heartbreak in her gaze was painful to witness. “You mean that?”

“Of course I do,” I said, putting all the conviction I had into my voice. “Forever.”

Then, she did something she hadn’t done since we were kids. She threw her arms around me and cried.

*

HALF AN HOUR LATER, Jasmine used a reflective surface in the bathroom to make sure that she’d cleaned away all the evidence of her tears. I hadn’t been wearing mascara like her, so all I’d needed to do was splash some water on my face and blow my nose a few times before I was good as new.

“I’ll try not to hate Adrian anymore,” Jaz called out from the bathroom, “but it’s a lot harder for me to believe the best about him like you do, especially when I’ve heard so much about his worst from the demons who held me captive.”

I shuddered, glad I hadn’t heard what she had. Adrian had told me the generalities about his past, but I never wanted to know the details. “I understand, and I don’t expect miracles.” Then I let out a brief, ironic laugh. “Okay, I guess I do, but I’m reserving that for finding the staff and being able to use it.”

She cocked her head. “Why wouldn’t you be able to use it?”

I looked away, blaming my recent blood loss for the slip. Jasmine hadn’t seen me wield the slingshot, so she didn’t know that using it had almost killed me, and the staff was supposed to be more powerful by a lot. On my optimistic days, I gave myself a fifty-fifty chance of surviving it. Still, what could I do? Not try to stop the walls between the realms from crumbling? Even if I could live with myself if I did nothing to prevent the mass slaughter that would follow—and I couldn’t, not after what I’d seen—I wouldn’t survive the aftermath, either. So, likely death or not, the staff was the best chance I had.

I just wasn’t able to tell Jasmine that using it would probably be the last thing I ever did. Not yet. She was still too battered emotionally to deal with that.

Lies of omission are still lies, an inner voice seemed to taunt. Was it only last night that I’d said that to Adrian? So much had happened since then, it seemed like a long time ago. “Oh, you know,” I said, forcing a fake laugh. “Performance anxiety. I used to freak out before my chorus solos, too.”

I couldn’t tell her the truth, even if it made me a total hypocrite. I’d rather suffer her justified anger later than hurt her more now while she was already bleeding on the inside from countless emotional wounds.

“I remember.” Jasmine’s smile told me that she bought the lie, which was a relief. “But you were great with those, and you’ll be great with this, too. Mom and Dad—” her voice cracked “—they’d be so proud of you, Ivy.”

I didn’t expect the tears that spilled down my cheeks as if they’d been longing to escape. I tried so hard not to openly grieve for our parents, both to be strong for Jasmine and to avoid the pain that buried me every time I allowed myself to dwell on their deaths. They had adopted me after I’d been left by a highway like so much trash. Raised me with the same love and devotion they’d shown to their biological daughter, and tried in every way to help me overcome a psychological affliction that turned out to be a supernatural destiny.

There was no way to get over so great a loss. My only coping mechanism was to back-burner it. That’s why I forced another fake smile as I tucked my sister’s hair behind her ear.