The Mephisto Kiss (The Redemption Of Kyros)

  His voice became quieter as he moved farther away from the tree, but Jordan heard every word. Freezing, she clung tight to the tree’s trunk, determined not to be swayed by anything he said. He was evil worse than Lucifer, made to deceive and cheat people into giving him what he wanted. If she stayed, he’d still go after Dad. Maybe Matthew and Tessa, as well. Her best bet for protecting them was from the side of the Mephisto.

  “You’re something of an idol in the United States, aren’t you? You receive hundreds, even thousands, of e-mails every week from young people, some of them looking for help or advice, and you spend hours replying to them. Carla answers most, but she pulls the saddest for you, doesn’t she? Carla is mine now, Jordan.”

  She squeezed her eyes closed. No wonder Carla had texted Eryx when his plan to convert Jordan’s father went south.

  “You also get e-mails from kids considering suicide, and nothing is as desperate as a suicidal teen. I have all those e-mails, Jordan. The ones who chose to live are still at risk, and I know what they want, what they need.”

  She rested her forehead against the rough bark and wished for the millionth time that she wasn’t the daughter of the president. All it had ever gotten her was pain and grief. Now, in the strangest twist of all, being the First Daughter meant all those kids who wrote to her were one step closer than the rest of humanity to having their souls annihilated.

  “I’ll send my immortals to work the hotlines, and they’ll offer an alternative to suicide that’ll be just what the sad, hopeless callers want—the promise of freedom from torment if they’ll follow me. Remember Holly?”

  Tree bark dug into her palms with the effort it took not to whimper.

  “She needed help, but Carla said, even with all you did for her, she still chose to die. It must have been hard for you, being the one to find her.”

  Crying would be the worst thing at this moment. She bit her lip and pressed harder against the bark.

  “What if Holly had called the STOP hotline that day instead of hanging herself? Imagine if the voice on the other end had offered her a way out of the mess that was her life. She’d have grabbed at the chance because she thought all her other options were gone.”

  He has no soul. No conscience. No heart. She told herself these things, but it didn’t relieve the pain he inflicted, or the harsh truth to his words. Holly would have done anything if she thought it would put an end to her misery, even give away her soul.

  “I’ll place immortals where they can influence the kids who wrote to you and didn’t kill themselves. They’ll go as educators, Scout leaders, spiritual advisers, dance instructors, music teachers, doctors, and coaches. I’ll gain thousands of young followers, all thanks to your e-mails.”

  His voice had grown louder, which meant he was headed back toward her tree. Stiff with cold and anxiety, she watched him through limbs of evergreen and hardwood until he was just below where she waited.

  That’s when she saw the footprint in a patch of snow. Her footprint.

  While she stood on the highest branch and prayed one of Key’s brothers would show up right now, Eryx’s head slowly tilted back until his eyes met hers. “What’s it to be? Will you stay, or go?”

  “I’m not staying.”

  “You care so little for your family and friends? For all those young people who look up to you?”

  “My staying won’t help you, Eryx. While I was dead, an angel told me you can’t force me to have your children. I’m Anabo and immortal, which gives me the power to decide when and if I want to have a baby.”

  “To protect others, you’ll agree to what I want.”

  “You’re lying. If I agreed to give you ten thousand babies, you’d still use those e-mails to con kids into pledging their souls to you.”

  Before Eryx could respond, a guy with midnight hair, dressed all in black, appeared just behind him. This brother had a scruff beard and rage on his striking face. He never spoke, didn’t make a sound, but she could tell Eryx knew he was there. He turned just as the new guy charged at him, and Jordan saw the glint of steel that caught the sunbeams knifing through the forest canopy, watched with morbid fascination when the Mephisto plunged his blade straight into Eryx’s heart.

  He shoved Eryx’s limp body to the ground, then bent to wipe his dagger clean on Eryx’s trousers. After he slipped it into a strap on his boot, he stood straight and looked up at her. “Let’s go.”

  She was so ready to be gone, in her haste to climb down she slipped on a frozen limb, crashed through branches and twigs, and fell the last ten feet. He easily caught her in strong, sure arms, then looked down into her eyes. “Bad day?”

  In spite of it all, maybe because her relief was so enormous, she smiled.

  He didn’t smile, but nodded and said, “I’m Phoenix. It’s nice to meet you, Jordan.”

  Everything went dark. She had that same sensation of weightlessness, then ten seconds later, he was setting her on her feet. He stepped back and said solemnly, “Welcome to the Mephisto house.”

  She looked around quickly, astonished by the beauty of the circular grand hall. She’d been inside palaces that weren’t this amazing. Rosewood and gilt, life-size portraits, and acres of white marble interrupted only by an ornate inlaid onyx M and the bottom step of a grand staircase. The domed ceiling was at least three stories above them, painted with angels and clouds. She took it all in within a few seconds. “Where in Colorado are we?”

  “The San Juan Mountains, about ten miles from Telluride.” He turned and nodded toward the stairs. “Come with me to see Key.”

  She walked beside him up the steps, then through winding wide corridors lined with masterpieces, lit by candles in sconces. “Why candles? Eryx has oil lanterns. Is there something about lightbulbs you guys don’t like?”

  “Our eyes are more sensitive to light than ordinary people.” He glanced down at her. “But we also prefer the old ways of doing certain things.”

  They passed several doors, then he stopped in front of one and reached for the knob. “Prepare yourself, Jordan.”

  “For what?”

  “To meet my brothers. They can be … intense.” With that, he swung the door open and waited for her to step inside the room.

  Calling it a room, however, didn’t do it justice. She took a nanosecond to register a soaring ceiling, butter-yellow walls with more old paintings, silk drapes pushed away from a giant window framing the Rockies, French antiques, a wall of bookshelves, a beautiful rose marble fireplace, a cream wool rug partially covering gleaming wood floors, and a very huge bed with a very large guy lying in it.

  Key was asleep, or unconscious, the covers just to his waist. Jordan blinked. She didn’t see a lot of guys without their shirts on, except in summers on sailboats, but she could say with absolute certainty that none had ever looked like Key.

  He had a cluster of bruises on the right side of his chest, above his heart. She shivered, imagining if he hadn’t had the rabbit inside his coat. Those would be much worse than bruises, and she wouldn’t be here right now.

  She noticed he had a beautiful, ornate tattoo of an M on his right bicep; just below, in the crook of his arm, was an IV catheter.

  Superfast observation over, she focused on the people in the room while Phoenix made introductions. They were all dressed completely in black, just like Key and Phoenix, including the girl, although she broke the monochrome with her blonde hair, which was pulled into a ponytail. She was gorgeous: tall, slender, and überfeminine, even in biker boots. Who was she? Eryx hadn’t said anything about a sister.

  “That’s Jax.” Phoenix pointed to the one who stood closest to the bed, next to the girl. “And his Anabo, Sasha. She came to us about a year ago.”

  Jordan felt enormous relief. Here was someone who knew what this was like, somebody who could explain what it meant to be Anabo.

  Her joy was short-lived. Jax nodded and gave her a warm smile, but Sasha met her gaze and immediately started to cry. She turned away, towar
d the bed, and Jax slid his arm around her.

  “This is Xenos, who goes by Zee.” Phoenix nodded toward a guy leaning against the wall by the windows. He had a buzz cut, a diamond stud in one ear, and a tattoo of a question mark on his neck. Zee didn’t smile. Or speak.

  “Titus, we call Ty,” Phoenix said, pointing at the only one seated.

  His large hand stroked the head of the ginormous Irish wolfhound that sat next to his chair. “Hello, Jordan,” he said, only slightly more friendly than a mother grizzly.

  “Last, and youngest, is Denys.”

  This brother was the best looking, which was saying a lot, because every one of them was unholy hot. His dark gaze swept her from head to toe before he settled and stared at her chest. Geez, could he be more obvious? She was just about to threaten to poke his eyes out when he said, “Eryx didn’t take any chances, did he? Looks like a nine millimeter.”

  “Forty-five caliber,” Zee said.

  Looking down, she saw a hole in her blue sweater, exposing pale skin beneath, without a wound or even a mark. The hole was right over her heart. No wonder she had died.

  Denys asked, “What did you think of Eryx?”

  Seriously? What kind of question was that? “I thought he was the scariest thing on the planet, then he shot me and I knew for sure he was.”

  “So you saw the real Eryx.”

  “Is there a fake Eryx?”

  “Are you always this feisty?”

  “It comes with being the daughter of the president.” The tension in the room—almost hostility—set her teeth on edge. Had she totally screwed up by saying yes to immortality? Eternity with these people loomed large and awful. She wanted to go home, to Dad and her own room and Tessa and Matthew. But she could never go home.

  Never.

  She swayed a little as the enormity of it all hit her broadside.

  Crap. She was not going to cry. Not now, not here. She suspected any sign of weakness would set the stage for the rest of time. Sucking it up, she asked Denys, “Are the Mephisto always this stone-cold?”

  “It comes with being sons of Hell. We don’t do jolly very well.” He nodded toward the bed. “Especially today, with one of our own close to death.”

  Death? Key was dying? How? He was immortal.

  Zee said, “We think it’s because you took too much of his humanity. If he dies …” He didn’t finish, but his meaning was clear. If Key died, they’d blame her.

  “Tell us what happened,” Ty said from his chair.

  “After Eryx started shooting, Key told me to run, and I did, but Eryx caught up and shot me before I could hide.” The finality of that made her short of breath. She stopped to draw in air and heard Sasha crying harder. “Are you okay?”

  Sasha turned her face into Jax’s shoulder and mumbled, “I’m so … sorry. I just feel so bad for … you. For Key. It’s … I’m sorry.”

  “Go on and finish your story,” Phoenix said with a solemn look. “She’ll be all right.”

  “While I was dead, an angel brought me here.” She nodded toward the window. “Out there. She explained things to me and gave me the choice of Heaven or the Mephisto Mountain.”

  “And you chose immortality,” Denys said. “Just curious, but why?”

  She looked toward the bed. How could she describe the way she’d felt, listening to Key calling her name? How could she explain what she didn’t understand herself? One second, she was truly conflicted, and the next, it was no contest. Turning back to Denys, she simply said, “I promised him I wouldn’t die.” To Zee, who seemed the most angry with her, she said, “It’s not as if I knew Key was in any danger.”

  “It’s not your fault,” Phoenix said. “Kyros undoubtedly did his usual absolute-ruler thing and tried to force you to come back.”

  Jordan shook her head. “I don’t think so. He wasn’t … it wasn’t like that.” She moved toward the bed to stand next to Jax and Sasha. Gazing down at Key, she thought he looked worse than he had in the forest. His skin was even paler.

  His shoulders were broad, his arms contoured by muscle, and his chest … man, he was a big guy. She didn’t want to do it but couldn’t help making the comparison. Matthew was lean, with long, thin fingers. He had an artist’s hands. Key was huge, and his hands, lying against pristine white sheets, were twice the size of hers. Other than the pallor of his skin, he looked the picture of health and fitness. But he was dying. Because of her. “He said that after he had more food, he’d be better.” She glanced at the IV drip in his arm. “Isn’t that the same thing as food?”

  “It is,” Jax said, “but it’s not working, and we don’t know why.”

  Stepping closer to the bed, she reached out, smoothed Key’s hair away from his brow, and leaned over until she was right in his face. “I came back because of you,” she whispered, “and I’m gonna be way pissed if you leave me.”

  He didn’t move at all, made no indication he’d heard her.

  The lovely scent of evergreens was much fainter now. She moved closer. “I’m going to see Matthew. The angel told me he lives, and I have to see him, one last time.”

  Nothing. Even the threat of leaving to see another guy didn’t wake him up.

  Sasha came close. “Will you kiss him?”

  Turning her head, Jordan looked up into her eyes. They were an unusual shade of blue, dark and kind of smoky. “Why?”

  “Just try, and see if it helps.”

  Jordan turned back to Key and kissed his cheek, the stubble along his jaw tickling her.

  “No, I mean a real kiss, Jordan. On the mouth. Give him some of you.”

  Jordan faced the only person who could possibly be her ally at this moment. Intuitively, she knew this was crucial. “What will my spit do to him?”

  Sasha swiped at the tears on her cheeks. “Maybe nothing, but isn’t it worth a try?”

  Glancing around at the other faces, Jordan felt like something was off, like they knew something she didn’t. Meeting Sasha’s eyes again, she asked, “What will Key’s do to me?”

  “Begin turning you to Mephisto. It’s why you’re here, isn’t it?”

  Jordan stepped back from the bed and looked toward Phoenix. “The angel said I’d become a Lumina. She never said anything about my becoming Mephisto.”

  He was obviously uncomfortable. “Did she tell you about Key? Do you understand why he was so desperate for you to become immortal?”

  “I get it, but she said I’d have a choice, that if it didn’t work out with Key, I’d be free to find someone else. Another Lumina. What will it mean if I’m Mephisto?”

  “You’re either single for all time, or stuck with Kyros,” Denys said, looking like he wanted to laugh. “Good luck with that.”

  “Shut up, Denys,” Ty said from his chair. He leveled a look at her. “If you’re Mephisto, you’ll go with us on takedowns. We do it all day, every day, and Eryx still gains ground. We need help.”

  “I can help if I’m a Lumina, can’t I?”

  “Yes, but your becoming Lumina would be like hiring Mozart to tune pianos, a complete waste of your ability. Only the Mephisto can take people to Hell on Earth, and only the Anabo can be changed to Mephisto.”

  She backed farther away from the bed. “I’ve known about Anabo, Eryx, and the Mephisto for less than twenty-four hours. I’ve been abducted, murdered, and brought back to life. My dad … my friends … the whole world thinks I’m dead, and, maybe if I’d picked Heaven, I wouldn’t be so worried about that. But I’m still part of humanity, capable of feeling everything I felt before I died.”

  “And what do you feel?” Ty asked, looking a little less unforgiving.

  “Confused. Sad.” She darted a look at Key. “And so … scared.” What if he died? She wanted to believe she came back for humanity, to help in the fight against Eryx, and that was true, but the main reason she chose to come back was because of Key, because she’d never forget the sound of his voice calling her name. But she didn’t expect to have to make the d
ecision about being with him forever fewer than thirty minutes after arriving on the Mephisto Mountain. “You don’t even know if I can help him.”

  “No,” Ty agreed, “but I don’t know that you can’t, and it’s looking like you may be his only hope.”

  Turning away from all of them, she stared at the painting above the console close to the door. It was a beautiful manor house, majestic and stately, with mullioned windows and neatly trimmed ivy. She thought of all the times her father had been required to make a rushed decision that had the potential to change many lives, sometimes even at the expense of people’s lives. She could picture him in his office, staring out the window up at the sky, asking God for guidance and strength.

  She thought about Eryx and his determination to take Dad’s soul. If he succeeded, if her father gave in, he wouldn’t look at the sky and pray for help. He’d answer only to Eryx. The thought made her sick to her stomach.

  “If I become Mephisto, can I convince people not to take Eryx’s oath?”

  No one answered.

  Turning, she looked at Phoenix. “Can I?”

  He slowly shook his head. “We aren’t allowed to interfere with free will. All we can do is take out his Skia and lost souls, to keep them from recruiting new followers.”

  “Skia?”

  “Eryx’s immortals. In Greek, skia means shade, or shadow. The eyes are a window to the soul, and because the Skia have none, theirs are shaded. So are those of the lost souls, but not as much.”

  “What will happen to me? Will I be different than I am now?”

  “You’ll develop new abilities—like transporting, superhuman strength, and the capacity to see who are Skia and lost souls.” He glanced at Sasha. “And who are Anabo.”

  “Those are all physical changes. Is it going to mess with my head?”

  Zee spoke up from his spot by the window. “Becoming Mephisto is all about f’ing with your head. Right, Sasha?”

  Clearly agitated, Sasha fiddled with the ear mic she held in her hand and said to the rug, “It’s difficult to explain, but yeah, you’ll see things a little differently.”