Page 42 of Shifting Hearts

NINE

Seraphina

T he moment Jas pulled the knife from the desk, she hopped off the desk and ran into the closet. She slammed the door behind her, knowing that if he wanted to, he could easily tear the wood from the hinges.

She grabbed one of his white dress shirts from the hanger and buried her face in it to muffle her sobs, as she collapsed against the door. She was naked and alone while he knocked from the other side.

“I’m sorry,” he exclaimed.

Despite how difficult an utterance that was for him, his words came too late. The damage had already been done. Once again, she’d been complicit in falling for his seduction. She’d placed trust in him during a moment of intimacy, only for him to violate her and obliterate that trust.

She was confused, not knowing what to do. He apologized, she reminded herself. Holding onto that small glimmer of humanity was the only way she could hold herself together.

He apologized. But could she add this to his growing list of sins and forgive him. He spoke of absolution, but it wasn’t hers to give. He had to find it on his own. She was merely a guide, and a failed one at that.

She wanted tenderness from him. His actions needed to prove the validity of his words. His darkness shattered her. She needed to return to the light, except there wasn’t a window in the closet.

Eventually, she rose from the floor and picked up the shattered pieces of herself, determined to put the edges back together like a puzzle. Jasper was a part of that now. She just had to figure out how he fit and if she could make room for him.

She grabbed a few pieces from her side of the closet where he’d made room for her. Could love grow out of that animalistic beating heart of Jasper’s? He seemed to be a deeply unhappy man. Making excuses to try to justify his behavior was a game she was unwilling to engage in further.

She dressed quickly, determined to confront him. By the time she exited the closet, he was nowhere to be found.

Several days passed and Jasper hadn’t returned to work. Her anger reached its boiling point at his cowardice.

She lamented, “He’s just so infuriating, Mara.”

“So you’ve said.”

“Hundreds of times,” Brock chimed in.

The siblings sat in their living room watching a romantic comedy. Seraphina found her thoughts continuing to wander back to Jasper repeatedly.

“Why don’t we go out tonight? You’ve been in the city for a while and we haven’t done anything fun.”

“I don’t know,” she replied with a wary shrug.

“Come on. One of my clients works at a club. He sent me a flyer.” Mara pulled out her phone and showed it to them.

Sinners and Saints Party

Dress to please or dress to tease

Sinfully delicious themed cocktails

“You guys can go. I’ll stay home.”

“No!” Mara said firmly. “I won’t let you waft about the house in denial. Stretch your wings and have fun with us.”

Despite her foul mood, Seraphina laughed as her siblings threw their arms around each other’s shoulders and adopted the same angelic look. Their eyes glowed with persuasion, though it wouldn’t work on her.

“Fine,” she acquiesced.

Mara clapped her hands and grabbed Seraphina’s hand. “Time to get ready.”

She dragged her down the hall and pushed her into her bedroom. Seraphina plopped on the bed with a sigh.

“None of that now. Come on. Do you think I should go as a devil?” Mara punctuated by lifting her fingers over her forehead to simulate horns.

“Really?”

She shrugged. “It’s fun to dress up and cause a little mischief. But I think we should keep you as an angel.”

“It’s forbidden to show my wings to mortals.”

Mara waved off her concern. “We’re going to a club. Patrons will think you’re in costume. It will be fine. I promise. Angelo is a good man. He’s aware of our nature.”

Her sister’s face softened as she spoke about him. Some mortals were privy to the existence of celestials, while some were devout believers. Impactful interactions led to exposing or sharing knowledge. Yet there were ways to influence and remove memory.

Seraphina waited for Mara to elaborate, but when she didn’t they moved on. There was much at stake for the elder sister, and when she was ready to confide, the youngest was ready to listen with an open heart.

Mara chose black booty shorts over fishnet stockings and thigh high boots.

Her chest was barely contained in a tight, black crop top, exposing several inches of her midriff.

She wore her hair down and pulled out a pair of black costume wings from the closet.

She slipped her arms into the straps. The dyed feathers stuck at unnatural angles.

“You’re not going as a demon?” Seraphina asked.

“Hell no.” She shook her head. “I’ve fallen, but I’m not actually a demon.”

The girls looked through the wardrobe to find Seraphina something comfortable to wear. Unfortunately for her, her sister pulled something more scandalous from the closet.

“Absolutely not,” she argued.

“This is about looking, but not touching. You’re as pure as driven snow, Sera. Men will look at you and fantasize about the wedding night.”

She pulled on the lace bodysuit. The delicate fabric clung to her curves, emphasizing her breasts and hips, while strategically applied rhinestones caught the light.

The neckline plunged to her navel, while straps held the thin fabric together.

She pulled on white thigh-high stockings and white heels.

Her hair was the only pop of color as her make up was fairly light.

When they walked out to the living room, Brock was relaxing on the couch with his hands behind his head.

His legs were stretched out before him, covered by black slacks and black boots on his feet.

Thick black leather straps crossed over his shoulders and connected by a metal ring. His hair was pulled back in a ponytail.

Their hired driver dropped them off in front of a brick warehouse.

A line of scantily clad men and women were lined up, waiting for the bouncer to let them in.

He checked IDs and took money. Instead of waiting in line, Mara led them straight up to the bouncer and showed him the invitation on the phone.

Seraphina glanced apologetically at those behind them, as they grumbled about them cutting the line. The man waved them in without asking for ID or payment.

While the exterior was flat and nondescript, the club was alive.

Colored lights reflected off the haze created by a fog machine near the stage.

Hues of purple and red swirled around the couple’s dancing, as a man dressed like a devil controlled the music.

He lured others to the floor with a seductive beat.

Dancers grouped together, gyrating and twisting in salacious fashion.

A woman bumped into Seraphina and giggled as she tried to pull her into a dance. The angel evaded her gasp and walked up to the bar with her sibling. Mara glowed as she ordered a drink from the man behind the bar. He seemed equally taken with her.

“Mara’s taking her time with that one. I think they recognize it, but when two damaged souls come together, there are things that need to heal within them in order to move forward together.”

“But don’t two fractured souls heal each other?” she asked.

He nodded. “They can, but…”

She blinked at him quizzically. “But what?”

“Our soulmates complete us. We can be strong for each other, but we can’t carry someone else’s broken parts forever.”

“But we can help someone heal themselves, can’t we?”

Her gut churned as she waited for his wisdom. Not just for Mara, but herself. There wasn’t enough distance from the source of her pain to reconcile the hurt.

“What if one’s soulmate is the source of your pain? Can that be fixed?”

Brock’s gaze met hers. “You can’t fix someone who doesn’t realize they are broken. You can’t pull someone out of the darkness who isn’t willing to step into the light.”

His words sank the glimmer of hope she had. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes.

“It’s okay to cry,” he assured her.

She shook her head. Seraphina had cried enough. Jasper Conrad didn’t care enough to face her, so she wouldn’t care.

“I want a drink,” she stated.

Brock raised his brow, but didn’t question or stop her from approaching the bar. Mara turned and put her arm around her sister.

“This is, Sera, my sister.”

The man behind the bar with a deep scar on his face nodded in greeting. “Hi. Nice to meet you.”

“This is Angelo.”

“Hi.” Seraphina waved.

“Can I get you something?” he asked.

“Um. I’m not sure. I’ve never drank before.”

He nodded and turned away to prepare their drinks. The music made it hard to hear each other, so they waited in amicable silence, enjoying a song with a more upbeat tempo.

Seraphina swayed her hips to the beat, losing herself in the emotions it evoked without recognizing them. Angelo placed a tall glass in front of her and winked at Mara as he handed her a cocktail.

“What is this?” she shouted over the music.

“Cranberry, pineapple, orange, and club soda.”

She smiled brightly and took a sip. The fruit juice was a delicious cocktail, while soda bubbles exploded on her tongue, tickling her taste buds.

She shivered and traded looks with Mara as an eerie piano tune filled the air. The DJ seemed deflated as he stared blankly into the crowd. A cold chill ran down Seraphina’s spine as the energy in the club shifted. A soul emanating darkness had entered.

A man placed his hand on her lower back, filling her with a sense of dread. She turned and blinked up at a familiar face—Jasper’s friend.

“How are you, angel?” he asked as he plucked a feather from her wing.

A sharp pain lanced through her as though he stole a piece of her soul.

He rolled the tip of the quill between his fingers. “I’ve been following you for days, waiting for you to expose yourself. And let me say, you are beautiful. My protege has more self-control than I thought.”

“You! You’re the one who turned him.”

He bowed gallantly and brought the back of her hand to his lips. “And you’re the soul supposed to bring the wounded vampire to the light side.”

The man tried to break into her consciousness, but she fought through the mental fog encroaching upon her. It took all her effort to glance over at her sister who stood, frozen like the rest of the clubbers.

“Well, well. It looks like it’s just us.” He grasped her chin and licked her cheek. “Did you enjoy my cocktail? I designed it just for you.”

Her limbs felt heavy as her head spun. Her eyelids fluttered from the effort to keep them open. She had to fight against his power.

“I have plans and your influence on him threatens that. The only logical conclusion is to remove you from his life.”

She collapsed in his arms.