was called a reckoner now.
Savin Thorne sent demons who had come from Daemonia back where they belonged. He was hired to do so and rarely hunted them himself. He left the hunting for others. Once the demon was subdued or contained—usually in some style of hex circle—then he stepped in and worked his magic. A demonic magic afforded him, he believed, because of the demon within him. She had hitched a ride to the mortal realm when she sent him home following that foul kiss. He knew it was a female. And he could not get her out of him. He didn’t know her name, so had come to refer to her as the Other. He’d love to expel her from his very soul, but he’d tried every possible spell, hex and banishment without success.
He’d accepted that life from here on would be spent sharing his bones and flesh with the demon he’d once kissed out of a vile desperation.
Rain spattered Savin’s face and streaked through the headlight beams. The woman kneeling on the ground before him waited for his reaction. She’d called him by name. And her name was...
Mon Dieu, he’d thought her dead.
“Jett?”
She nodded, blinking at the falling rain. “I...I finally got out.”
“Finally...” Words felt impossible.
It was incredible to fathom. This frail, dirtied woman was Jett? All grown up? Had she been in Daemonia all this time? Twenty years? If he had known she’d survived the fall, he would have found a way to get to her, to rescue her from the unspeakable evils. Somehow.
Savin’s heart thundered. His fingers flexed at his sides. He didn’t know what to do. How to react. He should have been there for her when they were nine and ten and lost in the Place of All Demons. He’d promised her he would protect her. And he had failed.
Yet somehow Jett had survived. Had she escaped through the rift that had opened earlier? She must have.
She must be so... Twenty years! She had no home. No life. She had literally been dropped into this world.
“Jett.” Savin dropped to the ground before her, his knees crunching the wet gravel. Without reluctance, he hugged her to him. She was frail and shaking and they were both soaked from the rain. “I thought you were dead. Oh, Jett, I’m so sorry. It’s really you?”
He leaned back and studied her face. He remembered the sweet round face of the girl with the long black hair and the giggles that never ceased. Her eyes had been—Yes, they were brown. It could be her.
It had to be her.
“You’ve gotten so big,” she said, and then managed a weak laugh. “Yes, it’s me. Jett Montfort. I’m out. I’m... Oh, Savin.” She searched his eyes. Rain lashed at her pale skin and lips. “I want to be safe.”
“Of course. Safe. You are now. With me. I’ll...”
What would he do? He couldn’t leave her alone on the side of the road. She needed a place to stay. Clothes. Warmth. Food? How in the world had she survived in such a place for so long? It didn’t matter right now. She was frightened and alone.
“Will you come with me?” he asked.
“Where to?”
“My place. I live in Paris. I’ll help you, Jett. Whatever you need, I’ll help you to get.” And before he could regret another vow, he said, “Promise.”
She nodded, her smile wobbling and tears spilling freely. “Please.”
And when he thought to stand and help her up, instead Savin scooped her into his arms and carried her to the passenger side of the truck and set her inside. He tucked in her thin dress, which was nothing more than jagged-cut fabric clinging to her torso. She was covered with dirt and scratches, but the rain must have washed away any blood. She’d been hurt. Traumatized, surely.
She was a strange survivor.
And he owed her his life.
“You’re safe now.” He squeezed her hand, then closed the door and ran around to hop behind the wheel.
Legs pulled up to her chest and arms wrapped about her shins, she bowed her head to her knees and closed her eyes as Savin drove into the city.
* * *
What strange luck that her escape into the mortal realm should be met by the one person she knew and had thought of many times over the years. It couldn’t be a coincidence. And yet Savin was a part of the demonic world in a way that disturbed Jett. She’d watched as he stood before the tear between the realms and reckoned demons back to Daemonia. He was powerful. And dangerous.
To her, he could prove most threatening.
Yet in her moment of need, Jett had accepted his offer of safety. Because she was exhausted, tattered and worn. And yet triumphant. She’d done it! She had escaped to the mortal realm. And whatever happened next would challenge her in ways she couldn’t imagine. She had prepared mentally, but the physical challenges would be unknown. She owned a specific power. She could survive this new adventure.
As the truck entered the city, she watched headlights flash past in swift beams of red and white. It had been a long time since Jett had been in a cosmopolitan city with vehicles and buildings of human manufacture. She remembered Paris. The historical monuments and buildings, the gardens and sculptures. The elite shops and the River Seine. It hadn’t seemed to change.
She had changed. Everything she knew about every single thing had changed.
And Savin remained the one pillar she needed more than she could fathom. He’d grown older, as had she. He’d gotten big and tall. The man was a behemoth wrapped in muscle and might. His dark brown hair was still shoulder length and tousled, as it had been when they were children. But now he wore a mustache and beard and a brute glint lived in his eyes. He had become a man. A very attractive man.
Jett couldn’t prevent the frequent glances out the corner of her eye to the man driving the truck. She had not seen such a handsome being in...a long time. And he occupied every air molecule with his presence. He overwhelmed the space in the truck. Being near him made her heart flutter, in a good way. That was something it had not done since she was a kid.
But was this man now her enemy?
No. She wouldn’t think like that. She needed help from Savin. And possibly protection. Even though he was the one person she’d best run from, he was all she had right now.
When finally he parked the truck and jumped out to run around the front of the hood and open her door, Jett stared out at the dark building front where he said he lived. This was the fourteenth arrondissement. Not far from where she recalled a massive cemetery sat in Gothic silence amidst the bustling city. While she and Savin had lived in the country when they were children, their parents had alternated taking them into the city on the weekends to visit the parks and museums. Memory of those times made her heart again flutter.
Could she have back that innocence? Did she want it back? What was innocence but a foul waste of power? The darkness within her would not allow her to ruminate on the past for long. Just as well. Time to move forward.
Now Jett had ventured into the city again. With Savin. And he didn’t suspect a thing about her, nor
