The Deal (Devil's Brother Book 1) Read online

  Trip nodded.

  “I think you got the wrong person. I don’t have a father.”

  I had turned to leave, when he spoke again.

  “If you walk away from me, Xara, you’re going to regret it.”

  His words stopped me in my tracks.

  “How do you know my name?” I asked.

  “I know everything about you,” Trip said. “And I also know that you have a brother.”

  All my life revolved around that second. The second he said those words.

  I had a brother.

  I could never figure out why I believed him, but I did, right there on the spot. I never doubted his words for a second. Maybe it was the desperation rooted so deep in me. I was sick and tired of being all alone in the world. If there was the smallest chance that another living human was related to me in some way, I would take it.

  I cried. So hard that he’d had to waste half an hour just to calm me down.

  “Come. Let me get you something to eat,” he’d said. “I’m Trip, by the way.”

  When I finally calmed down, Trip told me about the Angel. About the day I would see him and how following him would lead me to my brother.

  “An Angel?” I tried to mock him, but it didn’t come off right.

  “Yes, an Angel. With wings.”

  “Are you an Angel, too?” I’d asked him, and he’d smiled. Again, I meant for my words to sound sarcastic, but they somehow didn’t.

  “No, I’m not an Angel, Xara,” he said. “But I’m not human, either.”

  His eyes turned dark when he spoke those words. They changed right there, before my eyes, as if he had meant them to. As if he was showing me that he spoke the truth.

  My mouth opened, but no words came out for a long time as he watched me.

  “Then what are you?”

  Trip sighed. “Something in between.”

  I never asked him again. I only asked him about my brother, but he never told me more than that: I had a brother. I would one day see an Angel. An Angel who couldn’t, under any circumstances, see me, and who I needed to follow.

  “I’m going to offer you something,” he said. “An opportunity.”

  “What kind of an opportunity?”

  “I will take you away from here. I will teach you how to fight. I will prepare you for the day you see the Angel—”

  “Wait, fight?”

  His grin grew. “Yes, you’re going to have to fight if you want to see your brother.”

  My whole body shivered at the ghost-like quality of his voice. I should’ve run. I should’ve walked away and never looked back.

  I stayed put and listened instead.

  “A year,” Trip said.

  “I can’t fight,” I said.

  “But you can learn,” he said. “And I can teach you.”

  “What exactly will I have to do?”

  He stood up from his seat. “I’m afraid I can’t tell you that just yet,” Trip said. “But I promise you this. Come with me, learn to fight, and you will see your brother again.”

  He turned around and walked out of the diner. I ran after him breathlessly.

  “Wait! You said you’re going to prepare me for the day I see the Angel,” I said. “What will I have to do?”

  Trip smiled. “Why, fight, of course,” he said. “So what is it going to be?”

  I asked myself the same thing that day. What was I going to do?

  My plan was to move to L.A., work as a waitress and gather enough money to go to college one day. Some plan.

  But now, in a second, my whole life had changed. I didn’t understand the urge I had to believe every word Trip said, but I didn’t need to, because I didn’t think I really had a choice.

  He took me to a mountain. A house, the only one for miles around, and he trained me. To fight. So in the end, he didn’t really have to answer. I figured it out all by myself. I would have to fight someone. Possibly the Angel, because Trip didn’t just train me to fight a man. He trained me to fight an army, all by myself.

  It was a good year. One better than any I’d ever had. He was always good to me, Trip. Always respected me. Fed me. Clothed me. Even hugged me when he found me crying in the night. He told me jokes and stories, though he was terrible at both. I grew so attached to him that secretly, I sometimes wondered if he was my brother. I would’ve wanted that, because in a way, I learned how to love Trip for all that he was.

  And when the year was done, he brought me to New York from God knows where we were. He handed me keys to an apartment in Manhattan. Gave me an address where to find him, if I ever needed him. And he said goodbye.

  So he had done nothing but help me. But I was always, always afraid of him in a way.

  There was something about the way he looked at me with his color-changing eyes and that grin on his face. Something that spoke of danger.

  When I climbed the stairs to the third floor where he said his apartment was, I was scared. Terrified. Shaking. When I knocked on the door after a lot of deep breaths, the door slid open. I expected to see Trip’s face, but nobody was there.

  “Hello?”

  Nothing. It was completely dark inside. It took me a while to gather courage to walk in and close the door behind me. I strained my ears and listened as well as I could, but nothing moved or even breathed in there.

  Maybe Trip wasn’t home.

  But that place wasn’t exactly a home. There were no windows in what I thought was supposed to be the living room. Just solid wall. There was a glass table, taller than normal, at the very middle of the room, and a crystal vase was on it, filled with small black and dark blue stones.

  It was too dark to see anything else, and I looked around for a switch, but there was none.

  “Boo.”

  I jumped so hard so fast, I almost fell to the floor. I would’ve screamed, too, if I could produce any sound.

  Trip began to laugh as I held onto my chest, breathing heavily.

  “Oh, God,” I said, just as the lights turned on, and I could see everything.

  Everything that wasn’t there before. Carpet. Sofa. Armchairs. Even a kitchen. They simply appeared right where there had been nothing but empty space.

  Trip was still laughing. He hadn’t changed a bit, and his laugh was contagious.

  “Oh, you should’ve seen your face,” he said.

  “You got me good.”

  He had. Better than ever before. I was scared shitless.

  “Come here,” he said and walked towards me with his arms open.

  I ran and jumped on his neck, laughing harder now. I’d missed him so much. He spun me around a few times before he let me down again and took my face in his hands.

  “My, my,” he breathed, smiling brightly. “You’ve grown even more beautiful than I remember.”

  He kissed my forehead and brought my head to his chest again.

  I held on tightly to him. “You haven’t changed a bit.”

  “Probably never will,” he said.

  “I’ve missed you.”

  He leaned back to look at my face. “I’ve missed you, too, believe it or not. It’s a strange thing, missing.”

  “It’s not strange. People do it all the time,” I said.

  “Yes, people,” he said, grinning. “Come on, sit with me.”

  We sat on the biggest sofa in the room. I touched his face that felt the same as mine, only different in a way I could never figure out.

  “I should be mad at you,” I said.

  “Mad at me?” He acted surprised. “What did I do?”

  “You left!”

  “You know I had to,” he mumbled.

  “You should’ve at least let me come see you every once in a while.”

  He knew very well I was alone. I continued to be so until I decided to get a roommate, and Nora showed up at my door.

  “Not possible, I’m afraid. But what brings you here?”

  I shivered. He probably knew. He always seemed to know everything about ev
erything, but he always made me tell him.

  “I saw him,” I breathed, and the unchanged expression on his face confirmed it. He knew. “And I blew it. He saw me.”

  I spoke the words as fast as I possibly could. Better to get them out there.

  This time his expression did change. Not to angry, no. I didn’t think Trip ever was angry. But it was something else. Like…like nothing. His face turned to a statue, and it scared the hell out of me.

  This was the part I’d feared on my way there. Trip was amazing. I loved him as much as I loved myself. But when he got that look of nothingness on his face, it made me want to run out screaming.

  “He saw you?”

  “I’m so sorry,” I whispered. “I was unprepared. I was with my friend at a party, and he was there. I couldn’t stop staring, because he had wings! Just like you said! They were huge, and I couldn’t stop looking at him. And he saw me.”

  Trip stood up and turned his back to me. He went to the glass table with the stones, put his hands on it, and his shoulders fell while he sighed.

  “I’m so sorry, Trip. I blew it. I don’t know what got into me. I-I…I just wasn’t expecting to see him.”

  And I always did. I always expected him, but I never, in a million years, thought I’d see him at a stupid masquerade party in New York.

  “What did he do when he saw your face?” Trip’s voice was colder than I’d ever heard it before. He’d been cold with me. Almost cruel through the year he trained me, but this was even worse.

  “He didn’t technically see my face. I was wearing a mask, because it was a masquerade party.” Trip turned around fast, his brows up. “And I escaped before he could get close to me.”

  “Are you sure?” Trip said.

  “Yes, I’m sure. He didn’t see where I went. He didn’t even follow me.”

  Trip sat back next to me on the sofa.

  “You need to head out tonight. Follow him,” he said.

  “I didn’t see where he went.”

  It was all I could do to hold his eyes. Trip wasn’t smiling. I wasn’t used to seeing him without his grin. He looked up at the ceiling for a long minute, never even breathing, before he met my eyes again.

  “Wisconsin,” he said.

  “What if he’s not the one I was supposed to see? How do you know he’s the right Angel?”

  Trip grinned sneakily. “He is. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have been able to see him,” he said. “You know what you need to do.”

  My mouth opened and closed a couple times before I could speak. Trip hated to be asked about these things, but I had no choice.

  “I don’t, Trip. Not really. You never told me anything, just that I needed to follow the Angel and be prepared to do something to get to my brother,” I said reluctantly. “I’ll still get my brother, right? Even after I messed up?”

  Trip smiled and took my hand in his. “You didn’t mess up, Xara. It’s fine. Yes, you will get your brother. And you will know exactly what to do when the time comes. I’ll be there to tell you. For now, you just need to be where he is.”

  “Why can’t you just tell me now? Wouldn’t it be better to be prepared?”

  As vague as he was being, it wouldn’t have surprised me if I blew it again. And I couldn’t. I needed to find my brother. It was all I was able to think about ever since I knew he existed.

  “You are prepared,” Trip said and let go of my hand again. “No more questions, Xara. You need to be on your way.” He took a small piece of paper from the pocket of his jeans and handed it to me. “The address.”

  I took it and put it in my purse.

  “What about my brother? Can you tell me about him now?”

  “Everything you need to know, you will, when you meet him.”

  He had no idea how good that sounded. Meeting him. Or maybe he did, because he was grinning again.

  “So he’s alive? And well?” Trip nodded. “How will I know it’s him?”

  “I’ll be there to tell you.”

  “So you’re coming with me?” I would’ve felt much better going with him.

  “No,” Trip said.

  “But you said you’d tell me what to do when I found the Angel. And about my brother.”

  “I’ll be there, but I won’t go with you. You need to go on your own,” Trip said. “Now.”

  With a sigh, I stood up. I wasn’t going to get anything else out of him now, and I was itching to get going. But before I got to the door, I turned to him again.

  “What if I fail?”

  Trip pressed his lips into a tight smile. “You’ll die.”

  Shivers washed over me. Die? I’d die without ever meeting my brother?

  I turned to the door again. Maybe it was good that he wasn’t coming with me, because I needed to be on my own.

  “And Xara? Let the Angel see your face this time. Just once.”

  Adrian Ward

  Willow opened the door before I even knocked and jumped in my arms. She kissed me, and it felt like she sucked my whole being into her.

  I stepped back in surprise.

  She opened her mouth, but for a second, she couldn’t speak.

  “Hello,” I said, still dumbfounded in place.

  “I’m so sorry. It was Zoe’s idea, and it looked so much better in my head,” she said, her cheeks scarlet, her eyes wide.

  “Don’t be sorry. You just surprised me, that’s all,” I said, and because I wanted to make her feel better—or that’s what I told myself—I slowly closed the distance between us and kissed her.

  It was just a quick peck, but it tasted better than anything else in the world.

  She sighed loudly and finally met my eyes.

  “If you kiss me like that at least three times a day, you can ask for anything you want in return,” she said. “On second thought, make that five.”

  The words were hilarious, but the expression on her face, so pure and genuine, broke me.

  “Okay,” I said, against my better judgment.

  “Okay?” She hadn’t been expecting my answer.

  “Okay.”

  “And what are you going to ask for in return?”

  Her cheeks were still flushed, and the color looked good on her. Maybe everything looked good on her. Suddenly, I had the urge to see for myself if that was true. Just stick to her side every day, every second, just to see for myself.

  “You need to kiss me as many times as I kiss you.”

  The smile that broke on her face replaced the sun in my mind.

  “Come on in,” she said and stepped back.

  “Maybe we should go out?”

  I wasn’t very fond of going in the place George slept.

  “I made lunch,” she said. “Well, I can’t really cook, but I do make good spaghetti. And spinach sauce. It’s my specialty.”

  Reluctantly, I nodded and walked inside.

  The house was different from what I’d imagined. It was white. Somewhat cold. It smelled great in the kitchen, and Willow had already set the table.

  “You can sit over there.” She pointed at one of the four chairs around the white kitchen table. “Do you…do you want anything else? Like a salad or something? I didn’t think to make any.”

  “No, this is perfect. It looks very good,” I said, smiling. Her nervousness amused me a bit.

  “Are you sure? I have like cheese and stuff…”

  “Willow, just sit down. Everything I need is here,” I reassured her, and she finally took her seat.

  “I hope you like it. I never cook, because Mom doesn’t let me. I don’t really like to cook lunch and dinner. Just cakes,” she said.

  I only smiled as I looked at her trying to get out of her own skin. I took a bite of the spaghetti with spinach sauce, and she looked at me like she was going to faint any second now.

  “So?” she said, before I’d even started to chew. “Do you like it?”

  I nodded. “It’s good.” It was really good.

  “Really?” I nodded again.
“You’re not just saying that?” Again. “Because I’d be so mad at you if you’re just saying that.”

  “I’m not.”

  “You really like it?”

  I managed to swallow before I laughed.

  “Willow, it’s delicious. I’m not just saying it to make you feel good. It really is.”

  She sat back and looked at me for a second, her brows narrowed. “Are you sure?”

  She looked at me like that the entire time until I emptied the plate. At times, it was almost impossible to not burst out laughing, but I held it in. And after we were done, she asked me two more times if I was sure I’d liked it.

  She was impossible. Impossibly perfect.

  “Do you…do you want to watch a movie with me?” she said after she practically threw the dishes in the sink and told me she’d do them later.

  “Yeah,” I said. I couldn’t get enough of that face of hers. It was a brilliant combination of beauty, excitement, and purity.

  So we sat on the couch in her living room and picked a movie to watch. Unfortunately, having her right by my side, I kept concentrating on how her body moved when she breathed. On how she casually, so slowly, dragged herself closer to me, inch by inch. And I loved it. So much that I didn’t have the patience to take it as slowly as she did. I put my arm around her shoulders and pulled her to me. She pulled her lips inside her mouth to keep from smiling, but she flushed again, and that couldn’t be hidden.

  “I think I made a mistake,” she mumbled after a few minutes.

  “About what?”

  “Studying law,” she said. “I mean, I’m not very good at fighting. I like the concept of being a lawyer, but I don’t think I have what it takes.”

  “You have what it takes to do just about anything you want to,” I said. So long as she hadn’t made a deal she couldn’t run away from.

  “I mean it, Adrian. Lawyers have to be able to fight in court for their clients. They have to be ruthless. Merciless. They have to put their client first, even if they know he’s a criminal. I don’t think I could do that,” she said, frowning.

  “There are other things you could do with a law degree, right? You could be a judge, for example.”

  Her whole face lit up. “A judge,” she said, then laughed. “You think I could be a judge?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t see why not.”