Page 144 of A Drop of Anguish
I fidget with the collar of my shirt. “That was a paragraph of more questions. Why are you angry? What did Bea and Trevor do now?”
He pulls at my chin, forcing me to look him in the eye. “How do you think Mr. Vandozer learned I’d imprinted on Myre Island?”
I swallow. Mr. Vandozer is not directly related to him. The only real connection he has is the school, but they didn’t start going there until a year after that summer.
“A demon can choose their mate at any point before maturity. Though it often happens young, there are many cases of the mating urges not beginning until their mid-twenties. The only reason he could know it was one of you two is if someone told him. Someone close to us. My parents would never. The reason your sister was targeted is because either Trevor or Bea told him. That put you in danger. It put her in danger. And I want to destroy them—slowly—for that.”
I swallow. “How did they know?” The whole concept is still foreign to me. Trevor said there were signs, but not what they were.
“A demon’s first shift on another planet is significant and usually done in a controlled environment. It’s a peaceful transition—unless something happens to upset the demon soul, then it can be a more intense experience. Violent, even. When I shifted, seemingly out of nowhere, there was little that could have triggered the change in that way.”
So, that was unusual? My parents acted as if it wasn’t a very big deal. We were okay, and that was what mattered. But then again, we also decided to avoid demon kind for good, so it’s not like they had to make any parental decisions for us. They were visibly relieved we decided to leave the island and start attending human schools.
“I can’t explain more without—” He closes his eyes. “It all feels so pointless now to keep the truth from you. It’s all been ruined by a traitor to his own kind.”
“You’re not supposed to talk about your chosen.”
He nods. “It’s more than not supposed to. The demon cannot physically speak any words that would identify his chosen until the acceptance. It is important for our chosen to choose us back, without any assurances. Others could take guesses, read the clues, but it’s highly, highly frowned upon.”
“How does one… accept?”
His lips twitch. “They would have to allow a claiming. Two marks, in particular. One would connect the two enough to make it clear what the second mark would mean. The second mark is the big one.”
I squint, wanting to ask more about this tradition, but I think it can wait. He’s asked to mark me before, and I don’t want to set myself up for more pressure when I’m still unsure about it. “Okay. What did you mean by immense joy?” That’s an intense feeling for simply surviving.
He stares into my eyes, as if the answer to the entire universe has revealed itself. “I understand now.”
My breath hitches.
“I thought you feared my demon side. I thought you didn’t accept that part of me, and maybe wouldn’t ever. Or maybe that you simply didn’t have the feelings I had, but now I know that’s not true. My demon told you he would uncover the secret and resolve it. We’ve achieved one of those things. Now, I can enact a plan. Now, I can resolve it.”
My lips part. “Resolve it how?”
His lips curl into a vicious grin that makes my heart race like a jackrabbit facing a wolf.
“If you’d take my mark, Candice, you’d understand all of it. All of those questions plaguing you—it would all make sense. Isn’t that tempting?” he drawls, an echo pulling into his voice. His demon is having a say here. He’s trying to taunt me. Lure me into a trap. “Don’t you want to understand all of it? Because I have all of the missing pieces now, and I can share them—if you’d take my mark.”
My eyes fly open. Stupid, steely determination settles in my bones. “No.”
Jarron releases me. My arms are suddenly cold where his skin is now noticeably absent.
“Sorry,” I say. “I’m a stubborn bitch.”
He releases a shuddering breath. “You’ve got to stop calling yourself that.”
My lips curl up. “I’m just saying, if you want me—and I think that’s what you’re saying?” I pause, waiting for him to deny it. He doesn’t, just stares at me with those deep, searching eyes. “You’re going to have to do it the old-fashioned way.”
Something flickers in his expression. Excitement? He’s thrilled by the challenge.
My stomach twists pleasantly.
“Do you want to be chased,bright one?”
I suck in a breath at the otherworldly quality his voice has taken on.
I swallow, mouth dry.
He prowls forward. “You are fucking torture, Candice. In the best possible way.”
