Bewitch The Dark - The Devil To Pay Part 30

"So brave you are, little witch. It would see his parents off the hook for eternity. You want your mother's soul safe from me, don't you, Drake?"

"Isn't there a rule about you taking a soul twice?" Ivan hissed.

His mother's soul had once already been in Himself's clutches? Briefly, Dez wondered what kind of family the Drakes were. But then she shook off the disparaging thought. When involved with Himself, no one could master their own will. It wasn't possible.

"Or," Himself stroked his fingers along his jaw, Ivan's dark stubble carving it ruggedly, "Miss Desideriel Rosaline Merovech could step forward and take my hand, thus setting Ivan Drake and his family free of my bonds forever." "And with his soul?" Dez prompted.

"We accept neither bargain!" Ivan broke in. He turned to Dez, enforcing his determination on her with a fierce glare.

Yes, she agreed. Mostly.

"Then we are at a standstill. A high noon duel of pistols, so to speak." Himself turned and paced, hands behind his back.

"Let her choose!" Ivan suddenly said.

"No, Ivan, I can't." She didn't want to be responsible should she choose incorrectly.

Himself turned and cast Ivan's dark glittering gaze upon the two of them.

"Between the two of us," Ivan explained. "If she chooses you, then she is yours, and I remain your slave for eternity."

Dez's heart dropped to her gut.

"Two birds with one stone?" The false Ivan preened a finger along his square jaw. "I like those odds."

"But if she chooses me, we walk away from your coercion, your influence, your hideous devil's cancer, and I get back my soul."

Himself perused the bargain with a finger tapping Ivan's lips. "Very well. I like the odds, and I know she'll not be able to resist my temptation."

And Dez smiled, because she now knew she must turn away from whoever attracted her the most.

Chapter 24.

T he rain ceased, and the two figures of Ivan standing before Dez began to quake. Water droplets flew from the Ivan she knew was her lover. The two men s.h.i.+vered frantically and began to bobble closer to one another, as if magnetically attracted.

Dez didn't want to take her eyes off the right one. But when the frenzy of vibration became a blur of flesh and hair and clothing she knew it would be impossible. The two merged as one whirr of motion. An agonizing groan barked out.

And then it was over.

Both men stood still before her. Identical. One looked to the other, and the other followed, only a fraction of a second behind the first.

The one on the right turned to Dez, and the other mimicked in eerie silence. Neither spoke. If Ivan spoke she would know his voice, feel it in her heart.

Maybe.

Why didn't he make some sort of "this is me" movement? Perhaps the coercion would not allow it. Would she be allowed to ask them to remove their s.h.i.+rts so she could check their backs for the shadow? If they were identical, probably Himself bore the same mark.

Searching frantically over the two for some difference, a drop of rain remaining on the brow of her lover, the slyest smirk curling the lip of Himself, Dez took her time. She did not want to give away that she was afraid.

Afraid she would make the wrong choice and condemn them both to a wretched future. For if she chose incorrectly, she would become Himself's bride and Ivan would remain the soulless fixer. And never again would the two of them kiss, or make love, or have opportunity to begin the forever Ivan had offered her.

Cautioning her heartbeats, or they would leap outside her body and dance a tribal beat, she pressed a palm over her chest. The lace dress was saturated, including her hair and skin.

Both Ivans were completely dry.

The Ivan on the left shoved a hand in his front pants pocket. The Ivan on the right did the same, a nanosecond behind the other.

"Don't move, either of you," she said. "I cannot choose with distractions."

"Very well," both men intoned at the same time. One of them wrinkled a brow and gave the other a discerning look, which was returned.

It was apparent that if Ivan were able to give a clue to Dez about which one he was, Himself immediately matched it. And how to know it wasn't a distracting clue offered by Himself to confuse her?

She was going to have to use something other than her sense of sight for this one.

Dez closed her eyes and settled her inner noise. Sounds of the distant party music faded. The hush of the ocean slapping the beach offered up a rhythm she grabbed and followed until she centered herself.

Ivan's scent carried over the brisk sea salt aroma. Dark, masculine-nervous. She popped open an eye, looking the direction from where the scent seemed strongest. She looked right down the middle between the two men.

She could put a fix on one or the other. Witches were able to look into another witch's eyes and see into their soul, draw up their truths. Or show them their own, as she had with Ivan earlier. No, that wouldn't work. Neither had souls. Or would Himself be so filled with damaged and stolen souls she would see that?

What of her heart? Surely, she could pick out her lover by following her heart? The fairy heart spell had dissipated, but she no longer needed a spell. She knew what it felt like to follow her heart to Ivan. And once already she had denied her heart to Himself.

You've done this before, Dez. You can do it again.

Pray it worked.

"I need to ask a question," she said. "I know Ivan will answer truthfully, and Himself will likely not, but it won't matter."

"Then why ask?"

She eyed the Ivan who had queried. Himself would be concerned about something so trivial. Or not. Oh, for a clue!

Crossing her arms loosely before her, palms curling about her forearms, she nodded and decided to go ahead with what may be futile.

"Tell me, Ivan-" both men looked to her with the same eager attention "-what is it in the world you desire most?"

She looked to the Ivan on the right. "You first. And you," she looked to the other, "may not echo his answer. Is that possible?"

Neither nodded. She wasn't going to have the answer so easily.

"Go ahead," she said to the Ivan to her right. "You, my love," he answered with the slightest tone of affection, but more neutral, as if he were attempting to keep emotion out of it.

The other Ivan did not mimic his twin.

And Dez did not spend too much time contemplating the answer. It had been quick, easy and felt honest. Her lover had admitted to her he desired only her. Of course, Himself would guess at that as well. And did not Himself genuinely desire her?

"Now you." She nodded to the Ivan on the left.

He swept a hand across his jaw, which was mimicked by the other, and answered as easily as the other, "My soul."

Dez's heart sped up. Of course.

Yes, that was it, wasn't it? Above all else Ivan desired his soul. Yet, what a selfish choice. Would her Ivan be selfish?

No, it's not selfish, it is an innate desire. If he is being honest, then he must choose that which means most to him.

She looked from one to the other. Neither offered anything more than a smile. Noncommittal. Emotionless.

Did Himself hold Ivan in sway so he could not break through the bonds of this hideous twin spell? But then, why did not Himself give the upper hand? Unless he had it, and his success was so subtle even Dez did not pick it up, save for subliminally. And then if he did give some signal that would suggest Dez choose him, then she must be suspicious.

You're thinking about this too much. You have their answers. Go with your heart.

"Well?" both men asked. "Which do you choose, Dez(ideriel)?"

Wait. One of them had said Dez, the other Desideriel. But she hadn't been watching their mouths to see which it was. And to concentrate, to try to determine which had spoken longer or had said that last part of her name...

That had been her chance. The answer to her dilemma, and she had lost it.

"Decide," they both said.

Dez p.r.i.c.ked her ears, should they again say her name.

"End it," they said.

Could she request they speak her name? But if the real Ivan spoke first, Himself would know he'd made a mistake.

No, she had to do this. And now.

"I..." Stepping forward, Dez reached out. Her fingers trembled in the chill air. And now the ocean breeze swept about the train of her skirt, disturbing her concentration.

Choose wisely. Choose your freedom. Choose Ivan's freedom.

No more thinking. Who does your heart choose?

Dez stepped to the Ivan on the right, the one who had answered he desired her, and kissed him. She pressed her mouth to his and did not make it quick. Her condemnation would not be so simple. Nor would her success.

The heat of his mouth did not whisper of brimstone. Nor did it tease of comfort. This man was the one she chose. So be it. A thunder of rain burst upon them. The ground shook. For beside Dez and Ivan, Himself had transformed into his natural form and stomped the tarmac with a smoking hoof.

And the man in her arms shook his head and surfaced from his prison of mimic. Ivan pulled her to him and kissed her hard.

"No!" Himself growled. "Impossible! It is his soul he wants so desperately."

"I would sacrifice my soul for Dez any day," Ivan said.

"I have chosen correctly," Dez said. "Now you must return the book and cease to pursue me."

"You think so?"

Clenching Ivan's hand so tightly her nails dug into his flesh, Dez braced herself for betrayal. Why did she think to trust Himself?

"Your refusal to keep the bargain," Ivan said, calmly, but with certain warning, "will be deemed by your minions as weak. You think there is chaos between the vampire and witch nations? Watch what happens when h.e.l.l breaks loose."

"h.e.l.l is a constant on this mortal realm. Never forget that, boy. And I never go back on a bargain," Himself growled. "You, Ivan Everhart Drake, may have the witch and your soul. But first..."

Ripped from her lover's embrace, Dez found herself clutched to Himself's side, an obsidian talon pressed against her throat as if a blade.

"Take her if you can," Himself dared Ivan.

It was never going to be so simple as Dez choosing one or the other.

Ivan knew that.

And now as Himself held Dez against his hideous, black muscled body, her feet dangling above ground and her head wrenched back to expose her throat to one of the b.a.s.t.a.r.d's razor talons, Ivan felt all the years of suppressed anger and hatred for his stolen soul rise. Quickly, he became something else.

He became a man who would never offer his marks the blessing "Curse your shadows."

He became the vampire who would tear out a devil's spine to rescue the girl.

Lunging, he aimed for Himself's throat, his fingers arching into stiff claws, but something swift and agile dove in front of him.

Impact pushed Ivan through the air. He landed on the tarmac with a growl.

A b.l.o.o.d.y death-wraith cracked a skeletal smile and leapt for Ivan. Timing the moment, Ivan s.h.i.+fted, rolling to his side, and the wraith's skull hit the hard road, shattering.

Behind the wraith followed a league of others. The sky blackened with their tattered wings and bones.

Ivan jumped to his feet. Punches and high kicks and a few jolts of repulsive magic thrown into the mix fended off the wraiths. They were vicious but easily defeated by shattering their bones.

Vaguely aware Himself stood off to the side, with Dez in hand, Ivan prayed to a G.o.d who denied him the angels that the devil would not steal her away while he fought off these nuisance wraiths.

A few lucky slashes put boney talons to his cheek and shoulder and back. Ivan merely cringed and shook off the minute pain. His body healed as quickly as he spun to crush two skulls together. Ash formed in his grip and he shook off the cremains.

The dark cloud of cackling wraiths began to dissipate, and when Ivan felt he'd but three or four attackers left to fend off, the growl of a murk demon set up his hackles.

"Oh, h.e.l.l no," he managed.

Murks were nasty, skinless creatures that were dumb as stone but stronger than a bull. Ivan knew his physical skills would be put to the ultimate challenge. But why bother?

Kicking away the last wraith, Ivan then formed a white light about his body. He had only time to spread it out six inches. The impact of a murk on the invisible s.h.i.+eld wavered about him, but he did not take the hit. The murk bounced, landing its four red- muscled paws with a snarl of drooling frustration. It shook its head and charged.