A hot wave of anguished frustration welled from the pit of his gut, threatening to consume him. How could she agree to this fool’s mission? “Am I the only one here who has any damn sense?” He slid a desperate glance toward Nikki.
She responded with a shrug. “Hey, if it’ll work, why not?”
“Why not? Because I don’t fucking want to do this,” he roared. “But then it obviously doesn’t matter jack shit what I want. Not that it ever has. When it comes to controlling my life, I’ve never held the reins. Why should now be any different?” He’d been a damn fool to think he’d ever be free. Freedom was for dreamers, not a cynic like him who couldn’t afford to believe in the impossible.
With the walls closing in on him and the mocking laughter of fate ringing in his ears, he pivoted and stalked from the room.
Chapter Twenty
Marabella watched Sam disappear around the corner of the kitchen archway, her heart breaking. She blinked the tears from her eyes and took a halting step forward before dragging her feet to a stop. Everything inside her reached out toward him, wanting to hug him close and ease his pain. But he didn’t want that. He didn’t want her.
“Go to him,” Cass prompted softly.
“It won’t do any good.”
“Yes, it will. Sam needs someone strong enough to break through his defenses.”
Marabella sniffled. “And you think that’s me?” Boy, wasn’t that a joke. She couldn’t exactly be called the strongest person on earth. It’d taken her years to move out of her mom’s house and make a go at being her own woman. There were still days when she was terrified of her mom. Then again, everyone was terrified of Domino. Still, she couldn’t overlook her constant fear of the guild finding out about her and Sam. But on the flipside, she was about to commit to the staggering and crazy prospect of making him her familiar despite knowing the enormous ramifications in store for her.
Maybe she wasn’t the timid weakling she’d always feared she was.
“You broke through Sam’s seal,” Nikki pointed out. “I’d say that’s a good indicator his defenses are no match for your amazing superpowers.”
Wow. Superpowers. The notion was pretty incredible for a girl whose prior claim to fame was manifesting mutant balloon people. She gnawed on her lip before shooting Cass and Nikki an uncertain glance. “I don’t know what to say to him.”
“Just tell him what’s in your heart,” Cass said with an encouraging smile.
Right. If she did that, for sure he’d run for the hills. Swallowing past the trepidation balled in her throat, she took a hesitant step toward the doorway. Then another. Before she knew it, she was halfway down the hall. Sucking in a steadying breath, she walked into her bedroom. Sam stood at the window, his back to her. She fidgeted with the sash of her robe and wondered if it was possible to feel any more lost and insecure than she did at that moment.
“I care what you want,” she finally said in a small voice.
Sam’s shoulders stiffened. “Why? What difference does it make?”
“Because you have a voice, whether you believe it or not. And you have the right to use it.”
He uttered a hollow, humorless laugh. “Babe, the only right I have is to eat, sleep and indulge in the occasional fuck. That’s been my existence for one hundred and three years. Not that I’m complaining. Hell, things could be worse.”
“That’s not a life, Sam. It’s merely going through the motions.”
“Yep.” He braced his arm on the window frame and continued staring at some unseen sight that apparently held him riveted. “Easier that way.”
“It couldn’t have made you happy.”
He turned to face her, his expression flat. “Happiness is a fucking illusion. Insubstantial, fleeting, and about as real as purple unicorns and the damn Easter bunny. The only way to make it in this world is to rip off those rosy blinders and face the ugly reality, Bella. Otherwise it’ll kill you before you’ve even gasped your first breath.”
Pain and sorrow filled every chamber of her heart. “You’re wrong. It doesn’t have to be that way. There’s light and goodness in this world too. It’s not all dark and gloom.”
He shoved away from the window and stalked toward her. “It is when I’m the dark gloom. That’s what I’m born of, babe. There was no angel standing over my cradle, nursing me on all that do-gooder bullshit.” He spread his arms wide. “I’m the fucking personification of evil. And you know what? I damn well like it that way.”
“Because it’s easier.”
He frowned.
“That’s it, isn’t it? You chose to exist as pure evil, rather than experience guilt and the heaviness of your conscience. Especially when you steal souls for a living.”
“Don’t try to make it sound like I made that a conscious choice, sweetheart. In case you weren’t paying attention earlier, I pointed out that I was born this way. And I didn’t have a damn conscience to lug around until you came into the picture and ruined me.”
She decided to overlook his misguided surliness at the end of his pronouncement. “According to Cass, demons do have some conscience.”
He snorted. “Yeah, and it’s about as big as a gnat.”
“I think you’re underestimating yourself.”
He stacked his arms over his chest. “What, you’re an expert on the size of my damn conscience now?”
“I think burying your conscience was a coping mechanism you devised in order to survive.”
His eyes narrowed. “Coping mechanism? Hell, you and Cass must have studied at the same school of BS psychoanalysis.”
“See? Your sarcasm is another form of protective armor.”
“I don’t shield myself from anything.” A muscle tic in his jaw belied his words. “I’m not the one building illusions to hide from harsh reality.”
“No, but you fixated on the ugliness until it became your rosy blinders, Sam. It became the illusion that buried your conscience.”
Some dark emotion flickered in his eyes, and for a moment she caught a glimpse of the vulnerable Sam behind the blinders. Then it was gone. “Congratulations. You’ve officially come up with the most asinine theory of how my mind operates.”
An angry retort sprang to her mouth, only to be defeated by the phantom of Cass’s voice inside her head. Sam needs someone strong enough to break through his defenses. Cass was right. Sam used his words like bullets, a deadly adversary to anyone who dared get too close. But he could fire them at her all he wanted. She wouldn’t drop and play dead.
“I understand why you had to armor yourself to endure your existence with Nettie. And I can even understand why the thought of ever having to tie yourself to another witch is so abhorrent to you. Which is why I’m giving your voice back. I won’t go along with the branding without your mutual consent.”
He eyed her mutely for a long moment, his expression guarded. “Why does it matter to you if I give it or not?”
“I’m not like Nettie and that council you keep referring to. I believe in things being equal.”
“This isn’t a partnership.”
“It could be.”
He grunted. “You really are batshit crazy.” His gaze turned considering. “Would I still get to fuck you?”
Yes please. “Only if you stop referring to me as batshit crazy.”
“That’s gonna be tough.” He strode to the door and shut it before twisting the lock with a wicked grin that made her panties damp. “But in the spirit of getting this partnership off the ground, I’m willing to give it a try.”