The Stars Over Bittergate Bay

Chapter 33

33

S idney couldn’t hear. It was strange. The blood rushing in his ears reminded him of being swept under a wave. The crushing tightness in his chest. The way he couldn’t take a full breath. His fingers fumbled with the keys in his hand. He nearly dropped them as a distant rumble of thunder echoed across the sky.

Maybe the man on the couch hadn’t been Jonas. Sidney knew it was, but he gave himself half a moment to pretend it wasn’t. Jonas’s skin wasn’t the bright red-orange of a flame and he didn’t have two onyx rams horns. Just like the ones Sidney had seen in the photograph in the attic. The photograph that Jonas had said was him in a costume. Not a costume. A lie. So, what was he?

The dark lines of ink on Jonas’s skin, the burgundy and black hair. The size of him. The heat. A demon? Sidney’s hands were shaking so badly he couldn’t unlock the door to the truck. He tried to breathe and instead his throat made a strangled little gasp. Pathetic. Panicking. Running away.

When he’d walked out on his father at the restaurant, Congressman Quince had called him selfish. Ungrateful. ‘After everything I’ve done for you.’ The panic thrashing in Sidney’s chest was the same now.

“Sidney. Sidney!” Sidney couldn’t face Jonas. Didn’t want to face him. Jonas had been lying to him. Why? Sidney didn’t know. Did it even matter? “Sidney, please!”

Jonas’s footsteps crunched in the dying grass. If Sidney didn’t turn now, Jonas would get too close. Close enough to touch. Sidney would be trapped. His face was hot, but at least he hadn’t started crying yet. Sidney clenched his hand around the keys and turned.

Jonas looked distraught, eyes wide and imploring, a frown drawing down the corners of his handsome mouth. There was something more real about him now. He was more beautiful than he’d been before, like his features made better sense this way, in these hues. He was taller, broader, and Sidney was barely surprised to find that he still wanted Jonas. He wanted to swipe the frown from Jonas’s face. Smooth the wrinkles that crowded his forehead. Even though Jonas didn’t want him. Even though it had all been a lie.

“I have to go,” Sidney said. Swallowed. Fuck. Don’t cry.

“Please, Sidney. Let me explain.”

“Which part?” Sidney asked. Should have demanded. There was suddenly so much that warranted an explanation. Jonas gestured back toward the house.

“He’s not?—”

“You lied to me,” Sidney interrupted. “About everything!” He’d meant it to be an accusation, but desperation made it sound like a question. Fuck. He could feel the heat behind his own eyes. If he started crying he was going to stab himself in the thigh with Jonas’s truck key.

“No,” Jonas shook his head. “No. Not everything.” But some things. Obviously.

“What are you?” If he was going to leave now, he had to at least know that much.

“A demon. From the ninth realm of the?—”

“A Duke?”

“That was all true. My past. What I told you—” Jonas kept speaking. Explaining. But it was all beginning to make sense to Sidney.

If Jonas had been a duke, even if he’d been disinherited, why would he be here? Why would he be fucking around with silly, useless Sidney Quince? Sidney had been so caught up in the bliss of it, of being appreciated and wanted, that he hadn’t stopped to think about how none of it made sense. Sidney’s own father didn’t invite Sidney out for dinner unless he needed something. Mark only wanted to be admired and lauded and put on a pedestal. Why would someone like Jonas want Sidney without a reason?

“Why me?” Sidney interrupted. Jonas looked lost.

“What?”

“Why. Me. What do you want from me?”

“I don’t know what you’re?—”

“Why did you let me in? Why did you ask me to stay?” Jonas had asked him to stay. Had he not meant it? Sidney’s voice was rising and he could barely contain himself. “What do you want from me?”

“Sidney, you came to me . For help.” The mark. Right. Christ, that felt like an age ago. Jonas had removed Sidney’s mark, so that was?—

And then Sidney understood.

“You marked me.”

Jonas’s mouth snapped shut. His eyes were wide, desperate. Sidney was going to throw up.

“I didn’t want to.”

“For your magic. To make you stronger. Is that what this is? Is that what I am to you?”

“No. Sidney, no. I never wanted to—” Sidney closed his eyes and tried to swallow around the bile that was rising in his throat. At least he had all the pieces now. At least everything made sense. He’d wanted to know, and now he did. Right question, wrong time. Sidney opened his eyes.

“Is that why it feels like this?” Jonas shook his head.

“What do you mean?”

“The mark. Is that why…?” Sidney pressed his hand to his chest where it still felt like he could barely breathe. Jonas hesitated.

“I don’t?—”

“Never mind.” It didn’t matter. There was nothing he could do to fix it either way.

For a moment, they stared at each other. Sidney wanted to collapse. Beg Jonas to tell him that it wasn’t true. Not that Sidney could believe him; it would be a waste of breath for both of them, and Sidney didn’t have much left to spare. He needed to leave before he suffocated.

Sidney turned. He managed to jam the key into the lock and open the door of the truck. The roaring was back in Sidney’s ears as he climbed inside and turned on the engine, backed out of the grass and drove away.

When Edmund Morrow had left Jonas in the cave, there had been a moment where Jonas sense of the world and his place in it flooded away from him. Blood seeped out of his arms onto the stone, he had been so weak he couldn’t even call after Morrow, beg him to help. The weight of Jonas’s own body worked against him then, too depleted to even crawl across the unforgiving stone to higher ground. He had made his deal with Morrow willingly. There was no one to blame for his agony but himself.

It was strange to feel that way again. He stood rooted in the grass, watching Sidney drive away in his truck, and Jonas knew that it was his own fault. Something that had seemed so good and bright and precious was gone in the crunch of gravel, the roar of thunder overhead.

“Oh, Gods.” Asterion came up beside Jonas as the rain began to fall. Jonas barely heard him speak. Asterion steered him back toward the cottage, nattering the whole way, as Jonas tried to will himself into believing he could come back from this. But despair was a more familiar companion than hope. And a stronger one.

“Jonas!” Asterion pushed Jonas, both hands against his chest, and Jonas felt himself recoil. They were in the foyer. Asterion was glaring at him. “There you are! Gods, I half thought?—”

“This is your fault,” Jonas bit, a sudden burst of rage clenching his fists.

“Fuck you, it’s my fault,” Asterion retorted. “You were in this mess well before I got here.”

“Why did you kiss me?” Jonas demanded. “Why?”

“If my kiss is the wedge that drove you apart, I apologize for it. Truly.” Asterion’s voice was low and bitter, his eyes nearly incandescent with anger. “Shall we chase him down and explain that it was my keeping you from telling him the truth the entire time?”

“Leave me be.” Jonas turned on his heel, striding away. It wasn’t Asterion’s fault. Jonas had fucked it all again. There was no going back now, and he wanted to destroy himself in peace. Thankfully his liquor cabinet was well-stocked.

“You’re being stupid.” Asterion was hot on his heels. “Jonas, listen to me.”

“Leave me alone, Asterion.” Jonas stopped in front of the pantry and Asterion ran into him.

“You asked me to come here!”

“Now I’m asking you to leave.”

“You’re not even going to try to talk to him?” Asterion raised his voice. “You’re just going to what? Build an even smaller cottage inside this one? Live in the cellar?” That didn’t sound like such a terrible idea, actually. At least it would be quiet there.

“Go away, Asterion,” Jonas grumbled, squinting into the darkness of his liquor shelf. What was that at the back? Some unmarked bottle from a hundred years ago. That would burn going down for sure. He leaned in to reach for it, and Asterion slid himself under Jonas’s arm, blocking his path. Fucking rat bastard. Jonas grit his teeth.

“You like him, Jonas. And he’s not gone yet.”

“I lied to him.”

“You can apologize to him. You can explain about Edmund and the magic and the whole thing.”

“It’s not an excuse.” Not a good enough one.

“It’s not an excuse, but it is a reason. Jonas. You looked happy. For the first time in years. Glamour or not, you looked more like yourself than I’ve seen in a long time. Do not ruin this.”

Jonas’s heart was still pounding in his chest. Adrenaline coursed through him, begging him to move. But Sidney was gone. And Jonas deserved what he’d wrought.

“It’s over, Asterion.”

“It doesn’t have to be!” It was almost funny how earnest Asterion was, his gesticulations wide and wild. “We can go now!”

“Why do you care?” Jonas asked. He reached around Asterion’s waist and grabbed the first bottle he could get his hand around.

“Because I care about you, you insufferable ass!”

“That’s not what I meant.” Jonas turned, carrying his prize to the counter. It wasn’t the bottle he’d had his eye on, but any would do, really. “It’s not like you to care about something as trivial as heartbreak.”

It wasn’t until he glanced over his shoulder into the silence of Asterion’s response that Jonas realized he’d said something wrong. Jonas opened his mouth to apologize. He hadn’t meant to be mean. But before he could say anything, Asterion turned and left, slamming the front door behind him.

That seemed about right.

Jonas cracked the seal on the bottle. The liquor inside smelled acidic and saccharine in equal measure. He doubted he’d be receiving house guests any time soon, so there was no need to leave any undrunk.