Dark (Beautiful Ashes #1)(48)

Tar sat in E’s office pouring over every book he’d been given, studying his theory. E walked in with a few more and placed them on the desk. “For the record, I like your idea. A lot.”

“You think it can work?” Tar inquired, peeking over the edge of rather arousing piece of information.

“Hell yes, I do.” E pointed out, “Biggest things are determination and persistence. Both you have in spades, my friend.”

“Maybe. But man, she’s lying about something. I can feel it,” Tar admitted.

“She is,” E nodded. “But I’m not convinced she’s capable of any other way,” E affirmed what Tar considered.

“I can’t force her to be honest with me any more so than I can force her to trust my love for her.”

“I disagree on one of those.” E raked his hands through his hair. “There’s a way to get the truth from her that actually feeds her need.”

“That’s risky shit, man. I’m trying to heal her, not send her into the deep end!” Tar exclaimed.

“Sometimes we have to learn if we can swim.”

Tar blew out a heavy breath. “And if she drowns?”

“Be her life preserver.”

He made a valid point. Tar couldn’t deny that. Question was, could he do it to her? Forcing someone just wasn’t his cup of tea. It went against his personal code. Albeit he had to admit, it might be the only way to break her. Broken was where she healed, or he lost her forever to that demon who was courting her. Tar wasn’t convinced he could risk that.





Chapter Twenty





Keeley stilled her racing heart by taking in several slow, deep breaths. The room was setup for all kinds of fun. She lit the essential oil candles that gave off a sensual scent of orange blossoms. Lacey pointed out the Neroli had a calming effect as well. They were definitely an aphrodisiac; she was already aroused. Lacey not only told her how, when, why, and where, but she’d been kind enough to demonstrate several areas for Keeley to focus on. She needed the hands-on to really grasp the concepts. As always, Lace didn’t take it to the okay-this-is-freaky-with-a-girl zone. Didn’t matter that she was her sister; some things were just awkward. Although she’d had sex with a couple of women through the years, but that was a part of her past she was so thoroughly ashamed of. It was when she was prostituting herself for drugs. How she’d do anything for the next high. Really, Keeley’s new found obsession was leading her right back down the same path. She saw the warning signs, everywhere—yet couldn’t seem to stop her projection. Guilt slammed her gut hard enough to buckle her over. What the hell was she doing? Tar was better off without her.

Keeley suddenly felt dirty and unworthy of a man like Tarius McNeil. She moved quickly to blow out the candles and slipped a robe over her enticing outfit of leather and lace. By accident she knocked over a glass pitcher full of water, shattering it into a hundred pieces. In her frantic, unstable state, she reached over picking up the larger fragments. Blood trickled off her fingers as she watched in fascination. Searching for the wounds, she found where her life-force was pulsating out in a steady rhythm, holding her captive. Instead of wrapping the cuts, she sat down in the mirage of glass and deep dark red, reminding her of a mosaic painting. Keeley paid no attention to the fact her bare legs were sliced open with her weight. Her stare was fixated on a particular piece that looked like a knife made of glass. The voice she was becoming more and more accustomed to, whispered, “Right along here.”

She could feel the demon’s icy fingernail trace along her artery inside her wrist. He continued to seduce her. “Follow it up, not across,” he crooned along her lips. She licked them, tasting him on her tongue. “Come be with me forever, my dark angel.” So entranced by his words, she didn’t feel the bite as the sharp edge entered and moved up. “Yesssssss,” he hissed, bringing her wide eyes out of whatever haze she’d been caught in. Her scream was ear-splitting as Caleb’s decomposed face was right in front of hers.

Tar raced toward the room. Keeley was in trouble. He burst through the door, taking in the scene before him. He’d seen some bad shit through the years, but nothing could’ve prepared him for this. Keeley was covered in blood with shards of glass sticking out from her legs, feet, and hands. But what locked his gaze and held him hostage was the thick piece embedded in the inside of her arm. “My God, what have you done?” he gasped, reaching for anything to use as a tourniquet. The sash on her robe would do, he nodded, as he pulled it free from her waist. “I’ve got you, baby. Hold on,” he entreated, making quick work to staunch the flow.