Demonfire (21 page)

Was the gargoyle calling it?
Was that hideous creature hoping to steal Dax’s demon powers for himself? He
hadn’t thought it capable of such a thing, but now, with the serpent beginning
to move, almost as if the gargoyle directed it through the curse…

No!
He couldn’t allow himself to fear worries of his own creation. He had more than
enough to keep him awake for the rest of the week allotted to him. Dax focused
on the gargoyle. He ignored the sense of life, the power of the demon’s curse
as it fought to free itself in the guise of the snake. As it struggled to tear away
from his body. He raised his hands, spread his fingers wide, called on his
demon powers.

Nothing!

Stunned, Dax stared at his
outstretched fingers. Stared even harder at the gargoyle. Was the damned thing
smirking? Did it mock him?

Was it stealing his powers
even now?

Dax kept his eyes on the
gargoyle as he called out to the sprite.
Willow? I need
more energy. All you can give me!

She buzzed into the air and
circled him, drawing energy, sending more to Dax than he’d ever needed before.
The pain spiked, as if the tattoo ink turned to boiling lava searing a diagonal
line of fire across his body.

He bit back a scream of agony
and focused on the pain. Instead of trying to stop it, Dax called it forth,
drawing the pain as power from the snake, calling it to him, owning it. He
teetered on the edge of consciousness, certain that flames would burst from his
body, consuming him.

He hung there, aware of the
snake writhing and twisting in place, sensing Alton’s concern, Eddy’s love,
Ed’s confidence he would succeed. And then he felt it, his demon powers
bursting to life—serving him, not the snake; following his direction, not the
gargoyle’s—and racing down his arms to the tips of his fingers.

Power. Familiar, steady…his.

He held it there.

Allowed it to build.

His torment grew stronger,
intensified. He should have been unconscious, or at the very least, on his
knees. He should have been screaming in agony, but he was using it, owning it,
working the pain as if pain were a power entirely its own.

The snake trembled against his
skin, and the tongue lashed his throat. Fire burned along the tattoo, and he
was almost certain he smelled the acrid scent of burning flesh, but he held his
hands high, spread his fingers wide, and sent a blast of fire, instead of ice,
fire to engulf the gargoyle.

The creature howled and raised
up on its misshapen legs. Dax followed his fire with a freezing blast that
should have cracked the aging stone.

Should have, but didn’t.

Screaming, eyes flashing red
and filled with hatred, the gargoyle launched itself into the air just ahead of
the mighty swing of Alton’s sword. With the ragged screech of stone wings
flapping, it disappeared over the treetops.

All that remained was a scorched
circle on the asphalt.

Dax stared down at his hands.
He’d never felt so much power coursing through his body, had never sent so much
energy at any creature during an attack, yet the gargoyle still lived. He gazed
in the direction it had flown. It might have been a little pissed off, but the
creature hadn’t shown any sign of injury.

Dax’s body throbbed with a
combination of pain and adrenaline overload. He swayed on his feet. Then Eddy
was in front of him, touching the side of his face with her cool fingers,
tearing his shirt open. From the look of horror on her face, Dax knew it was
bad, but she slapped her hands against his burning skin and held them close
over his heart.

Immediately he felt the cool
strength in her, the healing power that calmed the snake and doused the fire
burning him from the inside out. Thank goodness he managed to keep his legs
under him this time while Eddy worked her magic. Barely.

Long minutes later, when she
took her hands away, the pain was gone, as if it had never been there at all.
She leaned her forehead against his chest and sighed. Her entire body trembled
from her efforts, even as his own trembling eased. Dax wrapped his arms around
her and held her close. Ed stepped up beside his daughter and patted her
shoulder.

“I don’t know how you do that,
honey, but it’s an amazing thing to see.” He raised his head and looked at Dax.
“That tattoo on your chest’s alive, Dax. I saw its eyes. It’s got fangs that
were almost entirely free of your body. The tongue’s a good two inches long,
whipping out of the snake’s mouth. It slid between Eddy’s fingers, but she
didn’t flinch. Not a bit.”

He kissed Eddy’s cheek, but
his eyes were focused on Dax. “How long do you think Eddy will be able to stop
the damned thing without it turning on her?”

Dax shook his head. Speech was
beyond him right now, but even if he could speak, he didn’t know how to answer
Ed. He had no idea how long Eddy could continue to help him until the risk to
her became too great. But he had to wonder, what was risk when so many lives
were at stake?

What was the safety of a town
when Eddy’s life was at risk?

There was no answer. They had
a war to win, no matter what it took.

He had to see the positive.
Something good had come of the night. He’d managed to use the pain. He’d drawn
on it, worked with it. He hadn’t been strong enough to defeat the gargoyle, but
it hadn’t gotten him. It hadn’t hurt the ones he loved.

Neither had the snake.

In the overall scheme of
things, he had to see this in a positive light. It was a good thing. Unfortunately,
if they were going to defeat the demons, Dax was positive it wasn’t good
enough.

There was no discussion of
sleeping arrangements tonight. Ed paused for a moment in the kitchen and gazed
about the brightly lit room with a blank expression. “Food in the fridge,” he
mumbled. Then he stumbled off to his room, practically asleep on his feet.

Alton fed Bumper while he
stuffed down a leftover sandwich and drank one of Ed’s cold cans of beer. He
set the can down and turned to Dax. “I’m sorry,” he said. “You had him tonight,
Dax, but I missed. I wasted a good shot. There’s no excuse.”

Dax frowned. “The sword…”

“No.” Alton shook his head. “I
can’t keep blaming the sword for my own failure.” He smiled and turned his head
away. “I guess I’m not much of a warrior. At least not as much as I’d like to
be.”

“I disagree.” Dax forced Alton
to look him in the eye. “You left your home, gave up your life with your own
people to fight a battle that isn’t really yours. You’re a brave companion and
a true friend. I could not do this without you, Alton. I wouldn’t want to, and
I’m proud to have you fighting beside me.”

“Thank you.” Then Alton
chuckled. “I’ll fight beside you, proudly. Just not too close.”

Dax smiled. “At least not
within striking distance. Good night, my friend.”

“Good night, Dax. Eddy.” He
gazed at Dax a moment longer. Then he turned and went straight into the guest
room with Bumper on his heels and Willow curled up on his shoulder, already
asleep in a nest of his long hair.

Eddy cleaned up the few dishes
left in the sink, while Dax finished off the last of the leftover sandwiches.
He studied the long curve of her spine, the graceful way she moved, and felt
the now-familiar rush of desire he’d learned to expect whenever he had a moment
to actually sit and watch her.

She glanced over her shoulder
as she wiped down the faucet and counter. Her smile seemed forced. Dax felt her
concern. For him.

“You okay?”

He nodded and pushed physical
arousal into the background. “I’m okay now,” he said. “Other than feeling
really pissed off and frustrated.” He shrugged and slowly shook his head. “We
need a plan. That thing’s powerful.”

Eddy nodded and draped the
damp cloth over the edge of the sink. She turned and leaned against the counter
with her arms folded across her chest. “I know.” She raised her head and
stilled, until, somehow, he fell into her brown-eyed gaze. She blinked, and Dax
could have sworn he felt the brush of her long lashes against his lips. She
took a breath, and he felt her breasts rise against his chest.

She shook her head, almost as
if she had to physically break the connection between them. He heard her deep
sigh clear across the room. “C’mon,” she said, pushing herself away from the
counter. “We’re both exhausted.” She glanced over her shoulder as she passed
him on her way to her bedroom.

Dax silently followed her into
the room they’d shared earlier today…or was it yesterday? He was losing track,
but he was much too aware that the night was almost gone. When a new dawn
began, he could check off another day.

Three days gone. The fourth
only hours away. So much had happened, but there was so much yet to do. At
least now he knew who their enemy was: the gargoyle appeared to command the
lesser demons. They followed it like a mindless army, intent on doing its will.
If only he could figure out what the creature’s weak point was—if it had any.
Right now, Dax was the weakest of the bunch. Even Eddy’s strength was more than
his.

DemonSlayer.
He’d taken pride in the title when Taron had named him, but now it felt like a
bad joke. Without Eddy to control the curse, Willow to feed him energy, and
even Ed and Alton there to fight, he was less than useless.

Even Bumper had accomplished
more than he had tonight, herding the army of demons toward Ed and Alton.
They’d destroyed all the avatars, either killed or banished hundreds of demons,
but more kept coming. The portal was closed, but Taron hadn’t been kidding when
he said there’d been a sizable invasion.

They’d all greatly
underestimated how sizable.

How the hell were they going
to win over such terrible odds? What was the gargoyle’s weakness, if it even
had one?

Eddy closed the door behind
him. Dax’s focus shifted from demons and the battles to come, to the woman
moving silently from door to bed. Wordlessly, she sat on the edge of the bed,
untied her boots, and slipped them off. Dax did the same, taking a chair on the
far side of the room where he could watch her every move.

Eddy tugged her shirt off over
her head and slipped the jeans down her long, long legs. She stood up to unhook
her bra as Dax reached for the belt holding his jeans. Suddenly Eddy’s mouth
split into a wide grin. “Look at us,” she said, laughing softly. “Undressing
like an old, married couple when we’ve only known each other for three days.”

Dax’s first thought was,
Has it only been three days? I feel as if I’ve known this woman
forever.
He paused with his hands on the belt buckle. “Is this how an old,
married couple acts?”

She nodded, but she didn’t
lose the smile. “I think so. I’m not sure. I’ve never been part of a married
couple, old, young, or otherwise.”

“Well, if it is, I think I
would like to be part of an old married couple…or otherwise.” He held her gaze
for a moment longer; then he undid his belt, unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans,
and slid them down over his legs. His boxers went down with the pants. When he
straightened up and stepped out of them, Dax knew there’d be no doubt in Eddy’s
mind what was on his.

There was nothing at all
subtle about his erection. It jutted out in front, aiming directly for Eddy.
She stared at him, her eyes bright, lips slightly parted. He knew she was
exhausted. He was as well, but there was something in the space between him
that seemed to take on its own life. He felt a thrumming in his veins, a pulse
that was hot and rich as liquid gold. It had his mind buzzing, his body
reacting.

He tried to compare the
feelings, the sense of arousal he felt now in this human body, with what he
remembered from his life as a demon, but there was no comparison. Nothing
similar at all beyond the anxious sense of need, the pressure that seemed to
encompass his groin and belly, buttocks, and balls.

Similarity ended there. Ended,
and expanded with feelings that went so far beyond the physical that he had no
way to describe them, no way to fully understand the ache in his heart, the
thickness in his throat, the feeling that he wanted, that he needed…but what
did he need?

More than Eddy’s body. More
than her touch, her soft skin. His lips hungered for her taste, his fingers
itched to roam across the hills and valleys of her body, exploring secrets he’d
barely suspected…but it was more.

Still more, but what?

It had to be this human body.
The demon only wanted to ease its need for blood or sex. This human body wanted
more. Saw more. Desired only Eddy Marks.

She was everything to him.
Beauty. Kindness and humor, the sound of her laughter, the salt in her tears,
the sweet scent of her skin, and the taste of her lips. All these things, each
separate, each a necessary part of the whole. All the parts that made the
woman.

All the parts that made him
ache. Made him want more than four more days. More than a night in her arms.

She stepped close and took his
hand. He noticed there was a definite flush to her cheeks, a rosy tint that
crossed over her breasts and spread across the soft curve of her belly. She
tugged lightly on his fingers, pulling him toward the bathroom. He followed
her, curious about what she intended, happy just to know that whatever it was,
she wanted him with her.

She turned his fingers loose
and reached for the faucet on the shower, and he studied the line of her back,
the smooth sweep of her hip and thigh. When she turned the tap and checked the
temperature of the water, he realized he was caught on the subtle play of lean
muscles beneath her smooth skin.

Then she slid the glass door
aside and stepped in. Held the door open, silently inviting him to join her.
His mouth went dry. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected, but he’d not really
thought this far ahead. Hadn’t considered the implications of Eddy, naked and
wanting, her lips parted, eyes clear and filled with his reflection.

Suddenly the demon rose up in
him, almost a separate entity beneath his human skin, struggling to emerge. To
take. Power flowed through his body. The snake began to writhe across his
chest, and heat surged through his cock. Dax paused with one foot in the
shower, one on the cold tile of the bathroom floor.

He grounded himself on the
cold tile. Swayed with the effort it took to force the demon down. Took a deep,
controlling breath. Another. The tattoo stilled. The demon retreated, but Dax
sensed it waiting. Sensed its displeasure.

He’d had no idea his demon self
still existed. No idea it clung so tightly. No idea it retained such power. He
needed to think about that. Be aware of his demon side. Later.

Much later.

Steam rose over the top of the
door and enveloped Eddy in a misty cloud. In control now, Dax walked into a
dream. He stepped into the big shower and closed the door behind him. Water
beat down on both of them. Eddy held a clean cloth, and she carefully rubbed
soap into the thing.

“Turn around. I’ll wash your
back. Then you can do mine.”

He wasn’t about to argue. Dax
turned, leaned forward, and planted his palms against the tile wall. Eddy
rubbed the soft cloth over his shoulders, down the length of his spine. The
water pounded out a steady rhythm against him; the cloth left swirls of soapy
sensation. He realized he was groaning softly with each sweep across his skin.

All too soon she stopped. “My
turn,” she said. Dax moved aside, and Eddy took his place while he soaped the
cloth and carefully washed her back.

He ran the cloth across her
shoulders, down her spine, and over the curve of her buttocks. Up the same path
until he detoured. This time he swept the soapy cloth around to the front and
swirled it across her breasts, over the taut nipples that had gone from soft,
pink buds to tightly ruched points.

When he ran the nubby
washcloth across the tips, Eddy arched her back and pressed her breast into his
palm. He stepped closer and used the cloth to wash down the soft curve of her
belly and then dragged it lightly between her legs.

The soft whimpers she made
told him he must be doing something right, but he backed away and grabbed the
shower nozzle out of its holder, pulled it close, and rinsed the soap from her
body.

She dipped her head beneath
the spray and washed her short hair. Dax hung the nozzle back in its holder and
did the same. When he rinsed the soap out of his, Eddy was already through, but
she grabbed the wet cloth once again and began soaping his chest.

He stood beneath the hot spray
while she carefully ran the cloth over the quiescent tattoo. She washed down
over his hip, along his flank, the full length of one long leg all the way to
his toes. Then she did the same to the other. Anticipation made him harder than
ever, and his penis bobbed obscenely in front of her nose, but Eddy didn’t seem
to mind at all.

She took the cloth, added more
soap, and carefully washed all those human male parts, gently lifting his thick
shaft and sweeping the cloth along his full length. She cradled his testicles
in the palm of her hand and gently bathed him. The soft sweep of soapy cloth
took him to the edge. His hips jerked when she swept the cloth between his
legs, up the crease of his buttocks, and back over his flank.

He might have felt embarrassed
at such human intimacy, probably should have, but it felt too good, too right
for him to be concerned. He searched for the demon, but it remained quiet,
satisfied with Eddy’s perfect touch. When she was done and had finished washing
him and then herself, she rinsed both of them off as if they’d always bathed
together, had always shared such astounding familiarity.

She got out of the shower and
handed him a towel. Dax carefully dried himself and followed Eddy back into the
bedroom. She brushed her tousled hair back from her face and handed the
hairbrush to him with a smile that couldn’t be anything but seductive. This act
of bathing had turned into more than flirtation. It was, instead, a serious
prelude to mating, a dance of desire—Eddy’s own brand of foreplay taking both
of them to another level of awareness.

She turned off the bright
overhead light and then leaned over and turned on a lamp beside the bed. It
cast a pale glow about the room, lighting the bed, but leaving most of the
bedroom in dark shadow.

Dax dragged his gaze away from
Eddy’s sleek body and looked down at the hairbrush in his hand. He brushed it
through his wet hair and dragged it all straight back, but he realized he was
once again watching Eddy through eyelashes still wet and spiky.

They were both clean now, but
in spite of all her flirtatious moves, Eddy hadn’t actually said she wanted him
sexually. The night was late, and Dax figured she’d want to sleep, though he
was oddly disappointed at the thought that this might be all that would happen
between them.

His tattoo was beginning to
burn. His demon stirred. He’d felt in control while they showered, but now,
here in the darkened bedroom, watching Eddy pull the bed’s sheets and blankets
back, Dax was aware of the subtle slither and slink of the art taking on life,
pulsing slowly over his skin, of the demon rising, watching Eddy through eyes
dark with lust.

He touched his abdomen, where
the wide body of the snake crossed just above the thick root of his erection.
He ran his fingers over the design and felt the distinct pattern of scales
beneath his fingertips, as if the pain itself took on form and substance. Was
his demon working within the curse? Taking back the tattoo? Following the heat
of the snake’s body, he trailed his fingers across his belly and up his chest.