Demon by My Side(40)

“That should do it,” she said, her voice rough.

He inclined his head.

“Jaral,” she said, winding up the excess gauze. “What is going on?”

He glanced at her in question.

“Spirits attacking, your father popping up, a rift that should never exist…” She shook her head. Too many impossible things were happening, and after this latest attack she was tired of always being a step behind.

“Did Kerilyn cause this?” she asked, voicing her deepest fear. Surely a hunter would never have placed the world in such danger. “Did she do this on purpose?”

Jaral reached over to take her hand. He squeezed it in comfort. “Last Halloween your friend and my uncle fought Abaddon. My father killed Kerilyn before she and the spirit lord managed to send him back to the demon realm.”

“So she died.”

Jaral nodded. “But as you know, she didn’t stay dead. I have no idea how my uncle managed to transform her, but he pulled it off. A human spirit is a paradox the magic holding our worlds in balance couldn’t handle. It fractured when Kerilyn went back to the spirit realm.”

“If she’s alive, why isn’t she here fixing this mess? I know her. She wouldn’t sacrifice our world for the sake of her happily ever after.” At least, the woman Darcy thought she knew wouldn’t. Maybe this new half-spirit version of Kerilyn cared nothing for the world she’d once protected.

“I have no answers for you,” Jaral replied. “But it was Kerilyn’s transformation that created the rift and her blood that will close it. Focus on that.”

Darcy moved back to her own seat and started up the engine. Maybe this was the answer she’d been looking for. Kerilyn had been in the same position, caring for an enemy, and her decision to be with him now put the whole world at risk. Caring for Jaral was a childish dream. In reality, there was a reason the three realms were separated. They weren’t meant to cross the divide.

Darcy pulled back out onto the road, trying to focus on the task at hand. It wouldn’t do any good to think about a lonely future she might not even survive to see. But try as she might her thoughts kept circling back to Kerilyn’s betrayal and Jaral’s growing claim on her heart. When she saw him being attacked she’d never felt such fear or panic. She couldn’t lose him, not yet. Darcy knew she couldn’t afford to get attached but her reaction proved she cared, more than she’d even been aware of. How was she going to keep him at arm’s length after this?

“Talk to me,” she said. “I need a distraction.” Anything to stop thinking of about how badly she wanted Jaral to be hers.

He was silent for a long moment before speaking. When she heard his words she almost wished he’d kept them to himself. There was only so much a girl could take, after all.

“I don’t remember my mother,” he told her, his voice low. “If she ever wanted me, I never knew. Honestly, I don’t even know if she’s still alive.”

“Why are you telling me this?” She didn’t want to know secrets about his past. It was hard enough to stay strong against him without hearing information that would make him…human.

“I want you to know me.”

She glanced at him sharply.

“You are thinking of your friend and her betrayal. Pretty soon you will be wondering if I am destined to turn on you also. Am I wrong?”

She said nothing.

“So before you start undoing everything we worked toward last night, I want to tell you about my past. These are words I’ve never said to another soul.”

“Don’t say them now,” she whispered, knowing she was being cruel.

She heard a small, self-deprecating chuckle and wished she could see his expression.

“Impossible,” he told her.

When she didn’t protest again he continued. “In my world, only the strong survive. My father had many sons and we were not all necessary. I remember when my little brother was ripped from my arms and taken to the king. He never returned.”

“Why?”

“Those whose magic was frail were not tolerated in the palace. Many of my siblings were destroyed for showing weakness.”

“You were just children.”

“When you have royal blood you are never a child. Everything is a game of wits. If you fail, you die.”

“But you survived.”

“I learned to play well. I was strong when I needed to be and careful with my powers. Those who challenged the king fared as well as those too weak to do so. I had to walk a fine line.”

“Sounds rough,” she murmured.

“And lonely.”

She dared a quick glance away from the road to catch him staring at her. As she turned her concentration back to driving, she wished they were having this conversation when her attention did not have to be divided.