Page 87 of Infernal Hearts

I know what I need to do. And he can’t be anywhere near me when I do it.

Chapter Fifteen

Jason

I stand there for a good long while, tears welling in my eyes. I need to sit down, get away from here—something. I’m suddenly so dizzy. It was completely out of the blue, and I think I have whiplash. Bile coats my throat as I struggle to find the words to explain away what just happened. Things were going so well—what could have possibly happened?

How could he be so cold and cruel after everything we went through? All those moments that rocked me to my core, I know for a fact that he felt those, too.

No. I’m not going to let him do this. I’m not about to let him just disappear from my life like Michael did. I walk out of the office and across the lot to the guest house and knock. No answer. I let myself in.

“Levi? Rani?” I take a couple of steps inside. “Are you here?”

Rani’s voice calls from the bedroom. “He took off into the woods. He’s gone.”

My blood runs cold. Things must be worse than I thought. I go to her, muttering to myself and wringing my hands the entire way. I’ll do anything for some answers.

“Did he say where? What happened?”

“To track his brother’s energy. I can tell he’s angry—we share a tattooed sigil, and mine is burning like it’s on fire. I figured you two got into some kind of fight.”

“I wouldn’t call it a fight so much as him going off on me for no fucking reason.” I put my hands on my hips, taking a deep breath. “Something is seriously wrong for him to act like this. I just have this sinking feeling in my gut.”

Her pearly eyes go wide. “That’s not good. At all. I know how he feels about you, so I can tell you it’s out of character. Is the journal still out there?”

The journal sits on the living room table. I rifle through it, recognizing the handwriting. It’s my dad’s. But it’s from the forties… How is that even possible? That can’t be right. These have to be fake.

My stomach drops. “Oh, shit.”

She yells from the bedroom. “‘Oh shit’ is not the answer I was looking for! What’s going on?”

I flip to the last page of the journal.

April 19th, 1946

The incubus is dead.

Tonight was the night of the ritual. After months of working closely with the incubus, my assistant convinced me—there was no other way, and I had no more time to wait.

An incubus’ power source lies in their heart. It pumps the healing liquid through their body, rejuvenating it with magic after each beat. They actively use this power to bond their hearts to others, hence the attraction. I wish it weren’t true, but I have grown fond of the incubus. That makes this even harder.

We subdued him. I tried to reason with him—asked him to give the power willingly. He refused. When there was no choice left, I cut out his heart and consumed it for myself. The power of the ritual emulated a voluntary release, allowing my body to absorb his power.

The effect was immediate. My youth returned, and I now have the body of a twenty-something again. I can also use a glamour to change my appearance at will, appearing to age gracefully. I do not have the power of attraction—after all, I’m not a true incubus—but the passive effects remain intact.

The plan is simple. I will close my practice, and I will leave for a few decades and come back as a new doctor after everyone has forgotten me. I will take his sacrifice in stride and continue my work. Through this knowledge and extended time, I’ll save more lives than I’ve ever lost.

I know another will come looking for him one day and will sense him in me. I can already sense them, even at great distances. I do not know when, but I know that for certain. And all I can say is that I hope I am ready. God forgive me.

Holy shit. I’m fumbling over my thoughts, but it’s all there in black and white. My dad is a sworn liar. I didn’t think he could ever be capable of something like this. Did I ever really know him? What would my mother have said? Is this why he always pressed me so hard into magical medicine? To make up for something he did eighty years ago? I glare at this damn book, hearing my own shaky breaths. But there’s no time to process—I have to do something.

I walk back to find Rani. “I think I know what set him off.” I try to swallow, but the lump in my throat fights me. “His brother is dead, and he found the killer.” I can’t bring myself to tell her who it is. I can’t even believe it myself. This has to be a misunderstanding.

She paws around on the nightstand for her phone and uses voice command to call him. All it does is go straight to voicemail—no rings this time.

“Fuck.” I take a deep breath. “How do I find him before it’s too late?”

She furrows her brow. “Too late for what? He told me the deal is done before storming off into the woods on the warpath.”

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