Joy In Love (Daughters of Cupid Book 1) Page 9

  I thought back to what Eros said: Everything you need I have given you. What, a feather and a used arrow?

  I was doomed.

  Faith whispered in my head, Your heart knows, Eros would never lead one of his own astray.

  “I don’t know what to do,” I whispered out loud. Agatha patted my hand. “Go for a walk. Fresh air, sunlight, it is good for the soul, si?”

  Faith urged me to do the same. Hope’s voice jumped into my head and said, No pity parties on your happy day.

  Except, none of them were trapped. The one thing I wanted today, a mere wish. Even as I tried to tell myself I hated Damen De Santis, I couldn’t. I couldn’t hate him or anyone else.

  Agatha watched me, her kind eyes patient. “I’ll have Sierra come to your room before supper. She will do your hair. It will make you feel better.”

  “That’s okay. I think I need a walk and some fresh air like you said.” I headed out of the kitchen, taking the hall back to the living area where two double doors opened to the patio and pergola. At the doors, Jace appeared, as if he’d been waiting for me. I wondered how long he’d been standing there, like one of those sleek black statues I’d spotted around the mansion. How many others were like him and would come to life if I bumped into one?

  It didn’t matter. I couldn’t go anywhere anyway. My own family wasn’t coming to rescue me. A sharp pain exploded in my temple and Hope hissed in my brain, No pity parties!

  Jace gave me a long hard look.

  I rubbed my temple. “What, not going to try and drug me today?”

  I couldn’t stop it. My mouth spilled out the words before I could stop them.

  Jace opened the door for me. His eyes fell to my pink slippers, then back to my face. “You’re good.”

  His dark skin lightened with lines of markings down his arms. Not typical for a faun, and I wondered if it was part of Damen’s hold on him, too. He stepped out on the patio behind me, closing the door. He stood, his hands folded in front of him. I walked away, slowly, waiting, but he didn’t follow me. Glancing back as I stepped off the patio, Jace nodded.

  His dark eyes expanded. No matter where I went, Jace would see, and Damen would know. I decided to explore the garden. Agatha was right. It was warm for February, but under Damen’s wards on the grounds, he could set the temperatures to whatever he liked.

  I headed for the roses. They were yellow with raspberry tips. Brushing my fingers along the ends of the petals, I started to think of all the things this day wouldn’t bring.

  I felt the arrow pressed against my thigh. I couldn’t use it on Damen. Who could I use it on? Why would my father give me a used arrow?

  Now you’re thinking, Joy. This coming from Cherish.

  The grounds of Damen’s estate greeted me with yellow-tipped grass as I walked further into the garden. Flower beds both flourished with new life and wilted roots. There were stones around the beds and more marble statues of men without arms and women wearing scraps of cloth. I avoided going close to the one Damen had resurrected for Marisol.

  Seeing it didn’t help me figure out how to get out of here.

  The further I walked, the quieter it became. I could hear the bugs; their chirps reminded me of home.

  We probably had cold winds and snow. It was that time of the year when the frost clung to everything, and the sun teased to come out.

  The slippers Agatha made me helped protect my feet from the stones as they got rougher, and I put more distance between myself and the house.

  I imagined Hope was probably staring out the window, trying to get warm weather to come by sheer will. While Faith was delighted with the snowflakes.

  Because that’s how my sisters were.

  I found another patch of roses. They were dark, like night. Crimson. I dared not touch them. They seemed out of place here, far from the other roses and the beauty of the garden. It felt wrong almost.

  I shouldn’t have been here any more than these roses.

  I glanced back at the mansion, to the windows at the top of the houses. That’s all. Windows. Did they overlook the garden or the roses? Were they for the night sky and counting the stars? Either way, I sensed he was there. I felt him. Watching.

  I continued walking.

  Strange how I would be trapped in this place. The prisoner. And somewhere, I didn’t feel like I needed to escape. Funny how one’s heart could change in such a short time.

  I belonged here. Not here as in the place Damen held me hostage. But with him. My home was where my heart was connected. It belonged to the man who kept me as his pawn. Insurance for a game he couldn’t win. Neither of us would win. Either way, I would have to accept my fate. Eros knew it. My sisters knew it. Even Giles understood. It’s why they couldn’t help me.

  Soon, if Damen didn’t get Marisol back, I’d be cast into Tartarus’s pit. I shivered, thinking about the darkness. As if the strand inside me comprehended, it curled around my heart a bit more to remind me that it knew.

  It knew my father’s arrow couldn’t be reversed. I couldn’t reverse the love in Arthur’s heart or restore Marisol’s love for Damen.

  My hand went to my thigh, feeling for the arrow, my constant reminder of what I had to do. It brought little comfort. A spark of hope warmed my troubled soul. There was still a chance Marisol held love in her heart for Damen.

  I found myself near her monument, the one place I planned to steer away from. It was a stone statue. That Damen commissioned out of love. Why did he love her? A pang of jealousy stung, thanks to his dark thread. I wouldn’t be jealous. He wasn’t mine. He was darkness, and I was light. He had made it clear not to love him.

  He loved Marisol. It added another tear to my heart. I rubbed my chest to ward off the pain.

  How could someone be with someone for that long? And then leave them?

  Then I remembered Arthur’s face. His smile, the light in his eyes, and I knew the answer. His love shined through his heart to all he was, and Marisol was the source of it.

  Mortals had such a short time span in which to discover that rare treasure. Most never did. What Eros gave Marisol indeed was one of the greatest gifts one could receive.

  How long would the arrow’s spell last?

  How long had Marisol lived, and would she live away from Damen?

  I stood and stared at her stone likeness. Thinking. Listening. My hand against my heart. It was beating again, to the rhythm of Damen’s. Calm and steady. His cold thread snug in place. Would I feel it when I was in eternal darkness? Would he let it stay inside me?

  Whether I gave in to my heart’s desire and loved him, Damen said himself there was only one place for this to end—darkness.

  No matter the cost, I couldn’t take away Marisol’s happiness. It wasn’t inside me. It wasn’t who I was.

  Arthur had brought her happiness and harmony. It was my gift, which I gave. I didn’t take it back.

  Maybe I needed to give it away more. And then I decided that was exactly what I needed to do.

  17

  I always imagined what this day would be like. My twenty-first birthday. I reached back and touched my shoulder. Dreaming of the day that I’d actually be able to reach back and feel my wings. Would I be able to fly out of here?

  Probably not.

  What was it that my father told me?

  My sisters couldn’t come to get me.

  My father wouldn’t rescue me.

  This was my test.

  This was who I am.

  I was Joy.

  I was happiness and harmony.

  I tried to reach within myself to spread true happiness and harmony into the garden. Marisol’s stone twin peered at me with her cold dead stare. Blind, as was Damen, to what he had and refused to see. How would I make him see me? That I was the one who could complete him?

  And thinking of his eyes made me think of the hint of blue. And thinking of the hint of blue in his eyes had my lips tingling with the memory of kissing him.

  A kiss. That’
s it!

  Oh, Joy, you’re a genius.

  I ignored the faint sounds of laughter in my head.

  Returning to the mansion, I went back to my room. Perhaps I would need Sierra to do my hair after all.

  My closet was limited, but Agatha came through with a sweet little number the color of the night sky. It had rhinestone straps and left my back bare. Sierra was more than happy to curl and twist my hair. I looked like a dark version of the goddess of love by the time she was finished with me.

  I suppose in some ways I am a goddess of love. It’s my genes thanks to my father. Sierra slipped out after she packing her bag of beauty tools and gave me a knowing smile. I posed in front of the mirror, wowed by how good I looked. It would take a blind man not to fall for how gorgeous I was this evening. Blind was how I thought of him, and it made my stomach quiver with anticipation. I’d never seduced a man. Sure, I had saved my kisses, knowing how potent they could be to a regular mortal.

  I found that out in middle school when Cherish thought it would be safe for me to go to public school. Danny Pierce had helped me with my algebra homework, and I gave him an innocent peck on the lips. The poor boy fell in love with me for a time. An entire school year, and that’s how I learned my first lesson about playing with matters of the heart.

  Damen De Santis, however, was far from a boy, and tonight I planned to open his eyes in a new light. A little tingle of anticipation worked its way to the dark thread. Soon, very soon, I planned to extinguish it, but first things first.

  A knock came on the door, and Jace stuck his head around it. “The count is waiting for you.”

  Time to put my plan in action. I followed Jace down the hall, down the stairs. Each step, a new kind of tingle stirred up my nerves. Outside, in the darkness, Damen waited.

  He was dressed in dark slacks and a navy button-down shirt. Jace slipped into the darkness in the corner, but his eyes glowed—golden and alert.

  Without having to glance at him, I felt them on my back. Damen’s jaw tightened. I didn’t want to fight with either of them. I pushed back the sight of Giles on the floor with Jace threatening to break one of his horns.

  For the sake of fashion, I’d left my pink slippers in my room. I ignored the feeling of my cold feet and walked up to where the table was set for us.

  Damen’s eyes caused a shiver to go down my spine. They looked hungry in a dangerous and unstable way. I resisted the urge to walk right up to him and plant the kiss of the century on those downturned lips. He appeared entirely too serious tonight, but I wasn’t going to allow him to ruin the mood or dissuade me from my intentions.

  Lanterns had been lit around the Pergola. The water in the pool was like dark glass, calm and smooth. There were thousands of tiny dotted stars reflecting in the mirror of the pool, and for a moment, I wished we could go back to Venice through its portal.

  Damen hadn’t said a word. His arms were crossed, and that smirk he usually wore had returned. How could he know what I was thinking? His eyes danced with mirth as I came closer. Did he think I was going to jump in and try to escape? Did he know I was planning on kissing him? Could he sense the desire in my heart?

  Maybe I should test my theory. Maybe I should step closer to the pool, but he pulled out my chair and motioned for me to join him.

  “This color doesn’t suit you, Cherub.” Damen bent closer to my ear. “I much prefer you as you are.”

  My throat went dry, and I reached for a drink to find there was only wine on the table. I licked my lips and asked, “How is that?”

  Damen played with a lock of my hair. “So innocent. So pure. You think you’re all grown up, baby Cherub, but you have so much to learn.”

  “And let me guess.” It came out breathless. His closeness had a way of making it hard for me to breathe. “You’re going to be the one to educate me?”

  He moved away to his end of the table, our knees touched, and he grinned. My heart jumped along with my pulse. Damen De Santis wasn’t Chaos, he was the devil. And curse my heart for betraying what his nearness did to me.

  “I could.” Damen dismissed Jace. The dark-skinned faun stepped out of the dark, his golden eyes dim as he turned and went away. Damen leaned forward. “But we both know how it will end up, don’t we?”

  I fussed with putting my napkin on my lap, no longer hungry. My pulse beat fast. Agatha appeared with the first part of our meal, and I picked at it.

  “I’m not afraid of the dark.” What I meant to say was, I wasn’t afraid of him. I clasped my hands on my lap to keep them from trembling.

  “Good.” Damen lifted his glass. “You’ll be spending a lot of time inside it if Cupid doesn’t give me the arrow.”

  “The arrow?” I had it wrapped around my leg. “I thought you wanted Marisol?”

  “I want the spell reversed. I don’t care how. An arrow is merely a tool of the power used.”

  My hand inched to my thigh, when Agatha reappeared with salads. She took my untouched plate, and I picked up my fork and stabbed a tomato. “It must be a terrible thing for you.”

  More terrible than the dryness in my mouth and the wanting of a drink of water. Agatha was gone before I could ask.

  “Why is that, Cherub?” His eyes danced with merriment.

  “I wouldn’t give up either if I were you.”

  “Enlighten me.”

  I brought my fork close to my mouth. “Love.” I grinned at him and took a bite. I let my eyes flutter at the burst of flavor in my mouth. Once I swallowed, I said, “It’s obvious you will do anything to get it back. At first, I thought it was a matter of male ego, but thanks to the little dark strand you’ve given me, I could feel you love her. Surprising. I always thought your kind was only capable of death and destruction, but it’s love.”

  “Ah, baby Cherub, you think yourself wise as you come of age, do you?” Damen leaned back, his salad untouched. “Should I give you your present now?”

  He tried to change the subject. I’d hit a nerve. “Is it a new pair of shoes?”

  I would have been happy with a glass of water and glanced over as Agatha came with our soup. She frowned, and instead of taking our plates away, she set our soup to the side.

  “May I bother you for some water?”

  Agatha glanced at Damen.

  “You haven’t touched your wine, Cherub.”

  “No, bother. I’ll have the soup. It’ll quench my thirst.” And as I picked up the bowl and drank from the broth, I tasted my mistake. Oh, the salt. Too much salt, and I licked my lips to draw out my own torture.

  “Are you sure you don’t want any wine?”

  “No, thank you.” I put down the soup.

  Damen waved his hand. “That will be all, Agatha.”

  “And the cake?” she asked.

  “Later,” he said. “I have a feeling our little cherub will desire something sweet before the night is through.”

  “Thank you, Agatha,” I said, sincerity laced in my words.

  She left, and I was thirstier than ever. Damen took his time with his soup. He slurped it, the sound its own kind of revenge. I resisted the urge to lick my lips again. How was it one could be so thirsty? I stared at the wine. My father warned me, and I knew the cost. I took the glass, swirled it, smelled it.

  A dark burgundy went with the soup. Not that I was an expert on wine. I recognized the label from the castle winery.

  “I could teach you about wines.”

  I dumped my wine, the red liquid spilling across the stone and running in the direction of his feet. “Is that my gift?”

  “No.”

  “A glass of water?”

  “Is that what you want?”

  I scooted back on my chair. “I want to go to bed.”

  Damen stood. Jace came out of the darkness. I turned and walked toward the house, expecting Jace to escort me. He opened the door, and I went inside. A moment later, Damen’s hand was on my elbow, and static crackled around the thread imprisoning my heart. I’d die for a drink,
but I wouldn't give him the satisfaction. I jerked my elbow away and went down the hall. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

  “I always say what I mean.” I didn’t look back. The guy could take a hint, couldn’t he?

  I took the stairs carefully to keep the arrow from becoming visible through the slit of my dress. Damen was persistent, I’d give him that. His hand was on my elbow again, and I hissed at the tightening of the dark thread.

  “I admit this wasn’t how I saw our night ending.” He massaged my elbow. And I realized what I’d said.

  Not even the best advice from my sisters would get me out of this. I’d never live it down. Good one, Joy, tell your kidnapper you want to go bed. At the door, I stopped him. “Alone.”

  He was so close to me. I could smell his rich cologne, and it made me forget about my thirst. All I wanted was a drink of his lips, and by the intense look he had locked on my eyes, he did too.

  It was the dark strand. It had to be the strand. It was like a satellite transmitting my thoughts and emotions straight to Damen. Why should I expect anything less than a dark demigod like him?

  “You’re the one who wanted to go to bed.”

  “Not with you.” I grabbed the knob and turned.

  Damen covered my hand. “Are you sure?”

  “Absolutely.” I licked my lips, so thirsty.

  He stood over me, his gaze dropping to my lips. “I haven’t given you my gift.”

  “I don’t want it.” Okay, maybe a small part of me was curious, but not that curious.

  Damen turned the knob with his hand over top mine. “Not even a kiss good night?”

  In addition to his rich cologne, the wine on his breath mingled between us. “You don’t want me to kiss you.”

  “And if I say I do?”

  “You’re lying.” I quivered inside. I needed to go into my room and shut the door. I needed a drink, badly. And no matter what I choose, it would be what Damen wanted. I couldn’t.

  The risk was too great.

  My own heart had betrayed me. He knew my plan.

  I couldn’t kiss him. Not now.

  “Try me.”