Torn(10)
I shook my head and took an involuntary step backward, then stopped when Deacon’s hand closed over my shoulder, warm and comforting.
Johnson, however, didn’t stop. He crawled forward on the bed, his eyes on mine. “You know it’s true. You feel the darkness in your soul. Eating away at you. You won’t even have one before long. Just the blackness, warm and sweet, filling you up. Don’t fight it, Lily. Embrace it.”
Behind me, Deacon’s hand tightened, but I jerked away, the pressure no longer comforting but confusing. Was he trying to reassure or to drag me down? Had I found an ally in the man, or was he truly my enemy, secretly serving his demonic master?
“Overwhelming, isn’t it?” Johnson said. “The power at your fingertips. The solidarity.”
“Fuck you.”
He laughed. “Not me you should hate, Sugar. I’m not the one who brought you, turned you. Tricked you into choosing sides.”
Hatred filled me, and with it, the image of one man. “Clarence.”
“Well, this is your lucky day,” Johnson said. “Because I’ll tell you a little secret. I hate him, too.”
“Clarence works for Penemue,” Deacon said. “Damn, of course he does.”
“And a pat on the head to the little demon boy,” Johnson said, earning a low growl from Deacon.
I turned to Deacon. “Clarence works for the guy who invented the Oris Clef? And this Penemue dude doesn’t much like Kokbiel, I’m thinking?”
“Kokbiel and Penemue have been brutal enemies since the early times,” Deacon said.
“And Penemue wants his key back,” I added, thinking aloud. “Which means Clarence is going to be searching for this Oris Clef thing, too.”
“Clever girl,” Johnson said.
“But if all this is true, why didn’t they have me going after the Oris Clef from the very beginning?”
“Had to stop the threat,” Johnson said. “That bitch-spawn priest was going to lock the last open gate, and if the gates are sealed when the convergence comes, then the Riders can’t cross over.” He shrugged. “One gate’s better than nothing, and even though Armageddon would come faster through nine doorways, it can still make it through one.”
My stomach roiled, and I feared I’d throw up. So close—the forces of good had come so close to locking out the dark—and I’d single-handedly mucked it all up.
“More than that, they had to make sure you were aligned to their side—and what better way than to send you on so easy a quest? Killing an old, fat, human priest. No challenge, none at all. But now it’s over, and there’s no turning back. You’re marked, girlie. Heaven’s no longer an option. You get that, right?”
I took Deacon’s hand. “I’ll never believe that,” I lied. “Never.” But so help me, I did believe it. I could feel the evil inside me, after all.
“He lies,” Deacon said. “That’s what he does. What he is. A walking lie. Even his body’s not his own.”
“And yours is?” Johnson said. “How many bodies have you held over the course of your existence? How many lives have you thrust aside because you coveted their flesh?”
Deacon ripped his hand from mine, then stalked toward Johnson. “I will end you,” he said, his voice low, dangerous. “Before this is over, you will burn, then you will disappear.” Never once did Deacon raise his voice. Never once did his tone change. But death and destruction dripped from every word. I saw fear spark in those too-familiar eyes, and I wanted to applaud. Because he’d made a dent. Deacon had actually scared the creature I hated most in all the world.
“Big talk,” Johnson said. “So long as I’m in this body, I’m safe.” He turned to me. “Then again, maybe I’m not. What do you think, Sugarbritches? Would he betray you to avenge himself? Would he kill your sister if it meant ending me?”
“Enough,” I said, my voice as low and harsh as Deacon’s had been earlier. “You’re picking on the wrong girl. Because there is no way I am going back to work for that scum. Your Oris Clef is staying lost, and I’m killing that bastard. Clarence dies, and I’m doing it today.”
Rose’s eyebrows lifted in mock surprise. “The moment you do, your sister dies. So make your decision, Lily. And make it good.”
“That’s bullshit,” I said. “You hate him, too. Why the fuck do you care if he dies? Go find your own damn key pieces.”
“He needs Clarence,” Deacon said. “He’s an Incan tor, isn’t he?”