Authors: Kate Douglas
Tags: #Romance, #Man-Woman Relationships, #Fiction, #General, #Paranormal, #Demonology, #Revenge, #Paranormal Romance Stories
Starfire (22 page)
Or some thing.
Willow? What’s got Bumper so upset?
There’s something outside. I’m not sure what. It’s more a sense of wrong, not right, but I don’t know what it is. See if DemonSlayer can tell.
With a quick glace at Dax, Eddy slipped her sword from the scabbard. The blade glowed and pulsed in the candlelight, shining brilliantly and throwing dark shadows against the walls. “DemonSlayer? Can you tell what has Bumper spooked?”
The sword flashed and Eddy heard the familiar voice of Selyn’s mother in her mind.
Demonkind. Nearby. Searching, yet not finding. Wraiths. They’re formless, not in avatars, yet there is more substance than normal. I sense them moving in small groups. Coming closer. Drawn by something that calls them.
Demonkind. Nearby. Searching, yet not finding. Wraiths. They’re formless, not in avatars, yet there is more substance than normal. I sense them moving in small groups. Coming closer. Drawn by something that calls them.
Eddy glanced at Dax. “Looks like we’ve got demons, guys. Not sure where, but they’re getting close, and they’re not using avatars. DemonSlayer says they’re being drawn here.”
Darius held a hand over his eyes to cut back on the reflection from the candlelight and stared out of the window. Snow swirled close against the glass. Finally he grunted and turned away. “I don’t like this a bit. Can’t see a thing out there. Do you think they’ve targeted Mari again? She no longer has the geode that called them before, but one of its crystals is going to be lodged in her heart forever.”
Eddy shot a worried look in Mari’s direction. “I don’t know. I imagine they’re drawn to all of us. We’re the only ones who know of their existence.”
“I agree.” Dax stood by the front window and stared into the darkness. Candlelight reflected off the glass. Snowflakes swirled and danced outside. It would be nearly impossible to see these demons—they’d be nothing more than shadows within shadows on a dark night.
Artigos and Gaia led the others from the kitchen into the front room. “Does anyone know if my sword made the trip from Lemuria? I’ve not used it in many years, but if we’re forced into a fight with demonkind, it’s another blade for the good guys.”
Eddy stood up. “Alton packed it, sir. He insisted we keep it near you. It’s out in Dad’s Jeep. No one’s taken it out of the scabbard, but I’m sure it’s okay. I’ll go get it for you.”
Alton’s father had been quiet and withdrawn ever since Mari’d killed his demon. He’d clung to Gaia at first, but today his mind appeared to be working better, as if the man he once was hadn’t been entirely lost.
And he was right. His blade was one more crystal sword they hadn’t counted on. Eddy glanced at Dax. “It’s wrapped in a blanket in the back of the Jeep. I’ll go out and get it.”
“Not by yourself, you’re not.” Dax reached for his coat and strapped his scabbard on over it. More relieved than she wanted to admit by Dax’s offer, Eddy did the same. They both drew their blades, which glowed brilliantly against the shadows.
“Beats a flashlight.” Eddy meant it as a joke, but her heart pounded and shivers raced along her spine. The sense of something wrong was growing, especially with Bumper growling and staring at the front door as if she expected the demon king himself to barge through.
It took her a few seconds to work up the courage, but Eddy finally grabbed the doorknob, turned it, and slowly pulled the door open just a crack. She used her sword to cast enough light to look for demons. Snow swirled and drifted around the front porch, but all seemed quiet. She glanced over her shoulder at Dax, and they both stepped outside, using the glow from their blades to light the way.
“Hurry.” Dax shut the door behind him, and then he went first, carefully walking down the icy front steps. He held his hand out for Eddy, and they waded through the drifts to the driveway where Ed had parked earlier today. There’d only been about six inches of snow on the ground, then.
Now snow buried the wheels past the hubcaps and covered the windshield. Dax stood beside the Jeep while Eddy sheathed DemonSlayer and then climbed into the vehicle. It took her a minute to get Artigos’s crystal sword out of the hiding place in the back where she’d left it wrapped in a blanket.
Wind howled, and the snow was blowing sideways by the time Eddy crawled out of the Jeep and shut the door. Dax grabbed her arm and helped her as they struggled through what had suddenly become blizzard conditions between Ed’s old Jeep and Spirit and Freedom’s front door.
A banshee howl raised the tiny hairs on Eddy’s spine. She clutched the sword under her arm and shot a quick glance at Dax. “Was that the wind?”
He shook his head. “I don’t think so. Hurry.”
The snow was so deep it reached their knees. They tried to follow the same trail they’d made from the house, but the wind practically blew them over, and stinging snow crystals burned wherever they found exposed skin. Eddy tucked herself behind Dax and hung on to his belt as he forced his way through what had become a complete whiteout.
With the electricity out, the neighborhood was black as pitch. None of the neighboring houses showed up at all. It was impossible to see Spirit and Freedom’s house in these conditions. Even the brilliant glow from DemonFire barely cut through the darkness. The light reflected off the swirling ice crystals in a disorienting kaleidoscope of sparkling shapes and brilliant flashes, and the fierce wind had them squinting against the sharp bite of blowing ice. The footprints they’d made only moments before were already covered by blowing, drifting snow.
“DemonFire! Which way?” Wind whipped the words out of Dax’s mouth, but his sword glowed brightly and pointed to the right of the direction they’d been heading. Dax and Eddy shifted their course, and within seconds they reached the front porch. The howl grew in volume, an angry screech of frustration and demonic wrath. Snow swirled up under the overhang, reaching with icy fingers as if it searched for them.
Eddy clutched the wrapped sword under her arm and drew DemonSlayer with her free hand. She turned away from the door, pointing her crystal blade and its brilliant beam of light toward the yard. Within the swirling snow, black wraiths swarmed overhead like huge vultures circling a carcass. Even though they were formless beneath her sword’s light, Eddy knew exactly what had followed them to the house.
“Demons, Dax. Do you see them? They’re all around us. Hurry.”
He reached for the door and opened it just enough to grab Eddy and shove her inside. Artigos, Darius, and Ed waited in the foyer. Darius had his sword drawn, and he moved quickly to guard the door as Dax slipped through.
Once Dax was in, Darius shut the door and locked it. “I count at least a dozen on the front porch alone. Mari, forget the spells to move us to Lemuria. We need to concentrate on fighting demonkind. Now.”
“Well, crap.” Mari glanced wildly at her mother. “Grab the spell book, Mom. We need some good, fast, demon-killing spells.”
Spirit headed for the bedroom where she’d left the book as Eddy carefully unwrapped the crystal sword.
“Your weapon, sir.” She handed the sword to Artigos.
He took the scabbard with a quiet reverence, and merely held it in his hands. Then he raised his head. “My sword is not yet sentient. It’s never spoken to me, never guided me, and I’ve not drawn it for well over ten thousand years. There was always an excuse. I believe now that part of me knew I’d been tainted by demonkind.” He sighed and glanced at his wife. “I wasn’t worthy of bearing crystal. Hopefully, my blade will forgive me.”
He reached for the sword and wrapped his hand around the hilt. Then he lifted his head, stood proudly, and smiled at Gaia. “My beloved wife has forgiven me, and I have great hopes that our son will, as well. Here’s hoping the crystal feels the same. I’d hate like the nine hells to see it shatter when I pull it from the scabbard.”
Ed raised an eyebrow and grinned at Artigos. “That would definitely ruin the moment.”
“Dad!” Eddy snorted and stared at her father. For whatever reason, the two men had hit it off from the beginning, and Ed’s easy acceptance of Alton’s father had quickly put Artigos at ease.
Ed grinned shamelessly, and even Artigos laughed.
“You’re not kidding,” he said. Then he slipped the blade out of the scabbard.
“It’s yellow!” Eddy glanced at Darius. “Have you ever seen a yellow crystal sword before?”
Artigos frowned at the blade. “It was clear crystal when I was young. I wonder what the significance is.” He turned it this way and that, and the blade glowed an incandescent yellow that was brighter than amber and gleamed with the brilliance of sunlight.
“I think it’s citrine.” Mari glanced up as her mother walked back into the room, spell book in hand. “Is that right?”
Spirit nodded. “Correct. Do you know the crystal’s properties?”
“I do. It’s one of my favorites.” Mari smiled at Artigos. “It holds no negativity. It’s a stone of optimism and self-discipline. I think it’s supposed to lead to open-minded awareness and better communication.”
“Mari’s right.” Spirit smiled that Earth Mother smile of hers as she leaned over to get a better look at the brilliant yellow facets. “I can’t imagine a better crystal for you to carry as you begin your new life, Artigos. It negates narrow-mindedness and helps control anxiety.” Gently she rested her fingers on his arm. “It’s a happy stone, filled with goodness.”
Then she glanced at the snow swirling just beyond the glass window and smiled sweetly. “There’s nothing like attacking evil with a crystal sword full of goodness. I imagine it’ll really piss off the little bastards.”
Mari rolled her eyes. Freedom wrapped an arm around his wife’s shoulders. “Let’s hope so. You and Mari need to work on your spells. I’ll help in any way I’m able. In case you hadn’t noticed, dear, demons are massing just outside. It’s going to be a long night.”
A high-pitched screech echoed above the sound of the wind. Bumper leapt to her feet, barking like mad. Something thumped against the front door, and a subtle vibration passed through the floor. “What the hell was that?” Eddy drew DemonSlayer.
“That, I believe, was the sound of demons knocking,” Dax said. He pulled DemonFire from his scabbard. “They want in.”
Isra watched from the shadows as her sisters and their terrible guards sat around the gathering hall, chatting like old friends. Bastards. Bastards and traitors, every damned one of them. How could her sisters be so easily swayed by that bitch Selyn?
And that old guy. Artigos? She’d hidden nearby when he’d made that talk filled with lies about working together for the good of Lemuria. What had Lemuria ever done that was good for her? Not a damned thing, that’s for sure.
She rubbed her palm against her robe. It still stung where the sword had burned her. For some reason it wasn’t healing the way her injuries usually did. The raw and blistered flesh was a constant reminder that she wasn’t good enough for one of their fancy crystal swords.
Well, let them try to stop her. She could find the way out, could find the portals that led to the levels where the free folk lived. All she had to do was get out of here and find a plain white robe. No one would know she was the daughter of a slave, but she knew things that someone in the halls above would love to find out—and she was more than willing to share.
Slaves carrying crystal? An exiled leader thinking of making a comeback? It all reeked of treason as far as Isra could tell.
She couldn’t care less about the politics of Lemuria, but she damned well didn’t want to see her pissy sisters and the no-good bastard guards coming out of this looking like heroes.
No. If anyone was going to look heroic, it would be Isra. Isra the slave. Isra the Forgotten One.
Forget that. They weren’t ever going to forget Isra.
Chapter Eighteen
Alton groaned. Ginny placed a cool towel on his head and sat back on her heels, while Taron paced and Roland stared stoically at the bars of solid energy trapping them inside the cell.
“Can you hear me? Alton? C’mon, sweetheart. Wake up.” She cast a worried glance at Taron, who just shook his head and stared at his unconscious friend.
“Bastards.” Taron turned away. “We had no way to warn any of you. Six frickin’ guards. That’s all there are, but they’re knocking us off, one by one. I feel like such an idiot.”
Ginny shook her head. “Don’t. We had no way of knowing.” She glanced at Roland. “Even Roland didn’t realize they were possessed. Their demons have been part of them for so long, they register to our blades as Lemurians, not demonkind. That’s probably why they were selected to work on this level. No one would suspect them.” She glanced at the glowing bars. “I’m worried about DarkFire. They wouldn’t destroy our swords, would they?”
Taron shook his head and flopped down on one of the beds bolted into the wall. “How’s he doing? Is he coming around yet?”
Ginny nodded. Alton’s eyes flickered. The big guard had come out of nowhere, hit Alton from behind, and grabbed HellFire. She didn’t know what he’d done with Alton’s sword, but at least he’d shoved Alton into the same cell she’d been forced into with Taron and Roland.
The guard’s companions had hustled the three men who’d been with Alton on down the passage. She thought they might be locked in another cell, but she had no way of knowing. No way of contacting Dawson and Selyn, to let them know their entire plan was currently facedown in the toilet.
Alton blinked, his eyes opening and then slowly closing, as if the effort was more than he could bear.
“Alton? I know you’re there. Wake up.” She leaned close and kissed him. His lips responded just enough to tell her he was aware, so she kissed him again.
Taron had said they were a hard-headed bunch, that Alton would be okay, but until she could ask him and get an answer …
“Ginny?” This time he blinked faster. “What happened? Where … ?”
He tried to sit up. She planted her hand against his chest and held him down. “Not yet. Give yourself a minute. The bastard hit you really hard.”
“Who hit me?” He turned his head to one side and spotted Roland. “Shit. They’ve locked us up. Where’s Balti? I swear I’m going to kill that son of a …”
“No.” Ginny helped him sit up, since he was obviously almost back to normal. “Balti’s locked up in another cell, I think, along with Ragus, the guard who brought me down, the ones who came with you, and even Grayl, the guy in charge of the prison. There are six guards—they’re wardens, actually, part of the force guarding Selyn and the other women—and they’re picking us off, one by one. We can’t use our minds to warn anyone because of the damned energy grid, and they’ve taken our swords.”
“HellFire?” Alton reached for his scabbard.
“They took the scabbards and the swords.” Taron helped Alton over to the bed so he could sit down. “I think the guards are afraid to touch them for fear of retribution. We’re hoping our blades are okay, but there’s no sense of them.”
“Well, nine hells. That sucks.” Alton rubbed the back of his head where sticky blood matted his blond hair. “What’d he hit me with? A hammer?”
Ginny sat beside him. “No. It looked like he used the flat of his steel blade. They want us alive, for some reason.”
Alton cocked his head and stared at Roland. “Do you know any of these men?”
Roland shook his head. “No. I did my best to avoid the guards when I went below in the beginning. The last time I was down there, the six had already come to this level. Their uniforms are slightly different—a lighter shade of blue—but unless you were looking for clues, you’d never guess they weren’t regular Lemurian guardsmen. I imagine this particular group was chosen for that reason—their demons are so well hidden within, our swords can’t sense them.”
Ginny clasped her hands and stared at her feet. “I think I know why they want us alive.”
Alton merely gazed at her. Then he nodded. “They want to possess our bodies. They want us acting on behalf of demonkind, but if we’re familiar, the people will accept our decisions. Demonkind will have achieved a bloodless takeover of an entire civilization.” He glanced at the sticky blood on his fingertips and touched the back of his head again. “Well, almost bloodless. Nine hells but that hurts!”
“How could we ever think demons were mindless?” Ginny felt like crying. “It’s an f’ing brilliant plan, if you ask me.”
Alton wrapped his fingers around her hand and squeezed. “Dax said he never knew of a government on Abyss. He had no idea there were leaders, and yet there’s definite organization here. Even different kinds of demons. The one in my father is nothing like the demons in the wardens. Thousands of years worth of planning, a slow buildup of demonic infiltration into an established society. It all appears to be coming to a climax at once.
“I wish we knew what Artigos was doing.”
Alton’s remark reminded Ginny of how quickly time was passing, and how all of their plans were falling apart. “Artigos the Just or your dad, Alton? Which one?”
“I’ve essentially written off my father. I’m referring to my grandfather, Artigos the Just. I wonder if he’s got the women working with the guards or if they’re down there now, trying to kill each other.” He leaned his head against the stone wall and shut his eyes. “Nine hells. Or, Ginny, as you would so eloquently put it, this has all turned into one giant clusterfuck.”
“Not yet.” Roland stood up and folded his arms across his massive chest. “Dawson and Selyn are still out there, and both of them are armed with crystal. Somehow, we need to contact them.” He glared at the sizzling bars of energy that locked them and their thoughts inside the cell. “Unfortunately, I haven’t figured out exactly how we’re going to do that yet.”
Dawson hadn’t expected the way he’d feel after making love with Selyn for most of the night. He hadn’t been ready for the overwhelming need to protect her, to keep her safe. But right now, as they climbed the stairs to the upper level and slipped through the occasional portal, he knew he’d rather be doing anything other than leading her into danger.
There was no doubt in his mind he’d gone and fallen in love. Even before they’d actually had sex last night, he’d fallen, but every touch, every caress, every kiss and cry and climax had merely cemented a feeling that was already so deeply entrenched in his soul it was never going away.
He knew it was impossible. She was immortal, a woman who would live until she chose death, until she turned her soul loose to exist beyond the veil. He was merely human, a mortal with the lifespan of an insect compared to Selyn’s.
Yet wasn’t everything he’d experienced in the past couple of weeks impossible? Hell, Aunt Fiona had to be laughing herself silly over the conundrum he’d gotten himself into. He could just hear her now, cackling and slapping her knee over little Daws, in love with a woman who couldn’t possibly exist.
“Can it, Fiona,” he mumbled.
“What?” Selyn stopped and turned around.
“Nothing,” he said, but he grabbed her hand and kissed her, just the same. “I love you, Selyn. I wasn’t going to say anything because it’s not the right time or place, but I have to tell you how I feel. I love you. I know it’s impossible, but …”
Her eyes had gone so big and blue he wondered if she was going to hit him, or run screaming, or some other weird thing, but then she merely smiled, leaned close, and kissed him. “Good,” she said. “Because I love you, too, and I wasn’t quite sure how to tell you.”
“You do? Why not?” He reached for her but she backed away.
Smiling, she shook her head. “Think about it. You are human with a wonderful lifetime of experiences. I’m a Lemurian slave. I’ve never been anywhere, done anything, experienced anything. Besides, I probably won’t survive the coming battle.” She glanced ruefully at the glowing sword in her hand. “I’m not meant to carry crystal, Dawson. I’m not an aristocrat, not one of the free folk. I’m really not worthy of crystal.”
He stared at her and didn’t know where to start. She stood on the step above him, absolutely regal in her cotton scrubs with the gold circlet holding her long, dark hair back from her face. The crystal blade glowed in her hand, her eyes shimmered in the flickering light, and she was so much more than she’d just described. So much better.
His throat tightened so badly he could hardly speak. “You’d damned well better survive, Selyn, because if you die, you’ll be responsible for my death, too. You don’t want that on your conscience. You are so far above the so-called Lemurian aristocrats that I won’t even dignify your stupid remark with an answer. I love you, and you love me, and that’s all that matters. That, and freeing this world from demonkind.”
He heard the sound of her swallow. “Then I guess we’d better hurry,” she whispered. “Demonkind doesn’t wait.”
He nodded. “Neither will Artigos the Just and his army. If we don’t get moving, they’ll pass us by.”
She nodded and took his hand. They’d left long before the women warriors would even have risen, and Dawson knew they’d made good time. He recognized the way now and knew they were almost to the level where the free folk lived.
He wondered if Selyn hated that title as much as he did. Free folk meant there were those who were not free. At least that had finally changed, but what was that freedom going to give them? Would the women—once slaves— find acceptance among the rest of Lemurian society, or would they forever be treated as a lower caste?
If it weren’t for the risk to so many people and so many worlds, he’d just say to hell with them and let the demons have them. What a wasted society! Yes, it had turned out wonderful citizens like Roland and Taron and Alton, but they appeared to be the exception rather than the rule.
More of them were like Gaia, Alton’s mother. She was a nice lady, but she’d known of the slaves and never said a word. He wondered how she’d managed to live with that knowledge for so many thousands of years. Of course, it was probably easy for her to ignore the plight of the women warriors—Gaia had lived up here in luxury while Selyn and the other women toiled below.
He could feel his blood pressure rising when Selyn stopped beside what he recognized as the final portal. “This will drop us into the main passageway near Alton’s quarters,” he said, recalling Ginny’s description. “There’s an alcove where we can hide while you try to contact Alton, Ginny, Taron, or Roland.”
Selyn glanced around them and then whispered, “Okay. I can find it. Maybe you should wait here until I make contact. I’ll be right back.”
He grabbed her wrist as she turned around. “Not on your life. We go together, or not at all.”
She looked at him for a long, silent moment. Then she nodded, just a short, sharp jerk of her head, grabbed his hand, and slipped through the portal. Dawson followed her out into a dark passageway and then took the lead. He tugged her toward a darker area that turned into a small cubby cut into the rock for storage.
She held her finger to his lips and closed her eyes. He knew she searched for their friends, so he stationed himself near the entry and listened for the sound of footsteps or voices.
It was still early, and the tunnels were quiet. Lights barely illuminated the way. He knew the lights would slowly brighten to mimic the rising sun and light the passages in a way akin to daylight within a couple hours.
Selyn touched his arm. “There’s nothing. No sound of any of them. What do we do?”
“Let me try something.” Dawson unsheathed his sword. Though the blade had not spoken, he hoped the sentience was alert within the ruby crystal. Concentrating on the blade, he softly asked, “Can you sense the presence of DarkFire or HellFire? The swords that belong to Ginny or Alton? Where are they?”
The blade pulsed ruby red, then dimmed. There was no voice, no other sense of life, and yet Dawson knew. He raised his head and stared at Selyn. “Did you get that, or was it my imagination?”
“Only if your imagination said they’re locked up in cells on the level below us.”
“Exactly. Let’s go back and contact Artigos. He needs to know. Then we have to see if we can get them out.”
Selyn nodded. Dawson checked the passageway, and the two of them raced back to the portal. Selyn slipped through with Dawson right behind her. It was much faster going down to a level where Selyn could connect with Artigos, but Dawson was still terribly aware of the passage of time, of the sense of danger growing all around.
Suddenly Selyn grabbed his arm and dragged him into a dark niche in the wall. Daws hadn’t even heard the sound of soldiers, but they marched by seconds after he and Selyn had slipped out of the main passage. He watched as the three men passed. Their eyes stared straight ahead. One of them had what appeared to be fresh blood staining the front of his blue robe.
Dawson and Selyn waited for what felt like hours. Finally, Dawson checked the passage and dragged Selyn after him as he raced to the portal that would lead to the next set of stairs. They slipped through, heading to the level below where Selyn thought she’d be close enough to contact Artigos.
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