Demon Cant Help It

CHAPTER 23

"Doing what?" Not his snappiest of comebacks, but the taste and scent of Jo had him more unnerved, more aroused than he'd like to admit.

"Why are you acting like we are a couple?"

Maksim might be a little mush-brained at the moment, but not enough so that he was going to answer that one honestly. He'd been acting the way he was because he'd been blind, raging jealous.

He hadn't initially recognized the emotion, because frankly he hadn't ever felt it before, and really he didn't understand what he was feeling until he was already heading down the bar toward Jo and the drunk, dullard college boy.

And when the dumbass had asked her if she had a boyfriend, he just knew he couldn't hear her say no. He just couldn't.

Boyfriend? Were demons ever anyone's boyfriend? That seemed oddly incongruent. But in that moment, Maksim was damned well going to be her boyfriend.

"Maksim, didn't this morning make things pretty clear?"

Hell, no. Nothing had been clear this morning. Her words, her stance, her reaction had all been as confusing as hell. And believe you me, he knew how confusing Hell was.

"I don't think we really agreed on anything," he said.

Jo stared at him as if he'd lost his mind.

"We agreed that things were too complicated. That the idea of just—" she dropped her voice, "having sex is not going to work out."

"I don't recall agreeing to any of that. I remember you saying that you thought things were too complicated, and when I asked why, you didn't answer."

She didn't answer for a moment again, and he had no doubt she was replaying the events of the morning in her mind.

Finally she sighed. "Well, that's the reason. Having sex isn't going to work out for me."

"Why?"

Jo shook her head, then fiddled with a nick in the bar's glossily shellacked wood. "It just isn't."

"Because the sex isn't working for you, physically?"

She didn't answer, but just continued to finger the deep scratch.

"Because it sure seemed to be working for you last night."

Jo eyes snapped back to him. "That isn't the point."

"What is the point?" Maksim really did want to understand. He wanted her to say something, though he couldn't say exactly what the something was.

"I just think it's going to become too difficult. These things never really work out. Someone ends up getting hurt."

"Are you afraid I'm going to get hurt? Or you?" Maksim's first thought was to tell her that he'd never hurt her, but he held his tongue. Why would he tell her that? He couldn't keep a promise like that. He wasn't exactly a gallant knight who'd swoop in on his white charger and carry her off to safety and love.

He didn't know how to love. Demons weren't created with that particular ability. Coveting, lust, desire, craving, even obsession—those were all things that demons could disguise as love. But they never, never cared for some other soul more than their own damned ones.

Jo didn't answer, and he wasn't surprised. She didn't easily let down her guard.

"Josephine, I won't ever hurt you."

He heard the words as if someone else had control of his body, as if he hadn't just told himself that he couldn't promise her anything akin to security or devotion.

Jo didn't react. She clearly didn't recognize what a huge pledge that was. Maybe if she knew what he was, she'd understand. But that was the trick, wasn't it?

Telling someone you care about you're a demon was bound to hurt them.

"You know," Jo smoothed her hands down the skirt of her jumper, "I have to go."

He frowned. He had just told this woman more than he'd ever told anyone, and she was leaving.

"We haven't resolved this," he said.

"I've told you already, I can't do this."

"Jo." He started to reach out for her, but she shifted out of his grasp.

"No," she said to him. "No."

She was clearly upset, but he didn't know why. Out of instinct, he poised on the edge of her brain, ready to jump in, tired of not having a clue what motivated this woman. But he stopped.

He told her he wouldn't hurt her.

He rose from his stool and followed her, catching her arm in just a few steps.

"Jo, I think you are making a mistake. I think we have something pretty special starting here."

Jo stared at him, the heartbroken look she'd seen so many times darkening her eyes to nearly black in the dimly lit room.

"Maksim, I just can't."

She extricated her arm from his hold and turned to walk down the length of the room. Maksim watched her, having no idea what to do or say to make her stop. To change her mind.

He didn't want to hurt her. But letting this all go wasn't an option. Without further thought, he jumped. He jumped right inside her mind.

Jo hesitated at the doorway into the stairwell. She gripped for the doorframe, overcome by a fullness in her head, like her brain was chock-full. She remained still unwilling to move, not because her head ached. It didn't hurt, exactly—it just felt heavy and she couldn't seem to think clearly. Thoughts came, but not in any consistent order.

She blinked. Then blinked again. Gradually the feeling dissipated. She had no idea how long it had taken for the strange episode to pass, but she was relieved that her thoughts seemed to be coming back to order. Her head felt normal, no longer crowded.

Using the wall for balance, even though she didn't think she wasn't going to pass out or anything, she entered the stairwell and started down the stairs.

Green neon light bathed the concrete steps, bright enough to make it easy to see, green enough to make it just a little disorienting.

She clutched the handrail, keeping her gaze focused on the steps. Three steps down, something ahead of her shifted, moving into her downcast line of sight.

She moved closer to the wall, offering the approaching person room to pass her. But the person stopped a few steps below hers.

When she looked up to politely acknowledge the person, she didn't get out a smile or a courteous comment. Instead her mind blanked, her eyes fastened on the individual in front of her. Her mouth gaping wide in shock. No sound, no breath escaping her seized lungs.

No, it couldn't be. Not here. But it was her. Long dark hair, wet and clumped together. Large eyes that Jo knew were was dark as her own. Thin, pale arms and legs bare and glistening with a faint sheen of water. This wasn't just a flashing impression, a snapshot of an image. She was there—right in front of Jo.

"Kara?"

The name escaped Jo's lips as her vision narrowed, rapidly fading to black. Only the faint sound of someone crying out her name reached her, before all light, all comprehension disappeared.

Maksim stood at the top of the stairs, when he saw Jo come to a sudden halt. Her hand clutched the railing, her knuckles gleaming white even in the pale green light of the neon beer signs.

He started down the stairs, realizing something was wrong and just as he would have grabbed her, she crumpled.

"Jo!"

He tried to catch her, his fingers brushing the back of her dress as she lurched forward, escaping his hold. Maksim watched helpless, sick, as if in slow motion she rolled down the stairs and hit the wall below, ending up in a crumpled heap at the base of the stairwell. She didn't move.

Taking the stairs two at a time, he reached her side, kneeling. He started to scoop his arms under her, his first instinct to pick her up, to protect her. But some logic surfaced through his panic.

What if she'd broken her neck, her back? He rose, shoving a hand into his pocket, finding his phone. He dialed 911.

"There's been an accident," he said as calmly as he could to the voice on the other end of the phone.

He answered the subsequent question as he returned to her side, gently touching her face, her hair. She was warm. She was breathing. That had to be good, right?

Once he was certain the medics were on the way, he rose again and stood in the doorway, scanning the bar until he spotted Erika swaying by the stage, watching Vittorio.

Maksim waved. He made several attempts before he caught her attention, but once she saw him, deep concern marred her features and she hurried toward him.

"Jo fell," he said simply when she got to him. He moved aside to reveal Jo's prone body to her friend.

Erika cried out, shocked and clearly scared.

Damn, he was scared, Maksim realized. Terrified.

Erika dropped down beside her, touched her face and hair in the same searching way he'd just done. She turned to glare up at him.

"What did you do to her?"

He gaped at Erika, stunned that she was blaming him, then his breath left him as he realized she was right. This was his fault. He didn't physically push her down the stairs, but he'd created the reaction that did.

He'd jumped in her head, and whatever had happened to Jo was a direct result of his selfish action.

Erika didn't wait for him to answer. She jumped up. "We need to call an ambulance."

"I called 911."

"Okay." She looked back at Jo, clearly debating something. "You wait here," she finally said, although leaving him alone with her definitely wasn't her first choice. "I'm going to get the others."

She narrowed a warning glance at him, and he nearly told her he would never do anything to hurt this woman, but stopped himself. He'd just made that vow to Jo directly, and look at her now.

Oh, God, look at her.

So he only nodded.

Erika dashed away, and soon Maggie, Vittorio, and Ren were all there, all checking Jo. All talking in low, concerned voices.

All looking at him accusingly.

And he couldn't say anything in his own defense. So he left them with her and walked outside the bar to see if the paramedics had arrived.

In the distance, Maksim heard a siren and within minutes, even with the pedestrian-laden streets, an ambulance managed to weave its way through the crowds.

"She's this way," Maksim said, approaching the EMTs before they could even jump out of the vehicle.

Sprinting back to the stairwell, Maksim called out for the friends to step aside. They did so, only resenting his order for a moment.

Maksim then watched helplessly as the EMTs did their jobs, immobilizing Jo's neck, checking her briefly for broken bones, then carefully sliding her onto an AZ backboard—stabilizing her neck.

Two of the men lifted her, their movements fast but steady. Maksim followed right behind as they wheeled her out to the street.

"I'm riding with her," Maksim said as they lifted her into the ambulance.

"No," Erika appeared at his side, addressing the medics, "we're going to ride with her." She gestured to Maggie, who looked even paler than a lampir normally did.

"I only have room for one of you," a medic with tree-trunk-sized arms and a barrel chest said, giving them an impatient look.

Maksim turned to the two friends. "Please. Let me go with her. Please."

Erika looked as if she was going to argue, then Maggie touched her arm. "Let him. Jo needs to get to the hospital now. We'll meet them there."

Erika still looked like she wanted to disagree, but she nodded, knowing Jo might not have time to wait while they bickered.

Maksim hopped up into the ambulance taking a seat beside Jo. Another EMT, a woman, who now took Jo's blood pressure and other vitals.

Carefully, Maksim took Jo's hand, again pleased that her fingers were warm, but amazed at how fragile they felt against his palm.

"You are going to be okay," he murmured to her, pressing those delicate fingers against the side of his face.

God, he prayed she would be okay.