He turned to leave. His hand grasped the doorknob when her voice stopped him.
“Damien?”
Darkness blanketed the room, but with his superior night vision, he saw clearly. He glanced back at her.
“Yes?”
“Thank you for making me feel better.”
He hadn’t really done anything, but he was glad she felt better. “You’re welcome. Don’t worry, Celia, I have faith you will have a breakthrough with the Kako language soon.”
A frown worried her brow.
“I hope you’re right.” Her voice was a soft doubtful whisper in the dark.
“I usually am. Bossy, remember?” He goaded her.
The smile returned to her face as she pulled the covers up and turned on her side. “Controlling, too.”
He closed the door and walked to his own room, still chuckling as his head hit the pillow.
****
The next morning, Damien headed downstairs for coffee. He expected Celia to sleep in a little. She certainly needed it. So he was surprised when he passed her office and saw the door ajar with Celia frantically running around inside. Pushing open the door, he stepped into her office. The woman was so absorbed in her task she didn’t even notice his entrance. She hustled about the small room grabbing books from the desk and floor, frantically turning pages, and occasionally making small noises. After thumbing through a particularly large leather-bound book, she shrieked in triumph.
“Ah-ha!”
“Celia, what on earth is going on?”
She glanced up from the book. A huge smile lit her face. It turned her from simply beautiful to absolutely stunning. Damien’s breath caught in his throat. This attraction was getting out of hand.
“Damien, I didn’t see you come in.”
“With all your running around, it’s no wonder. What are you doing?”
Clutching the large book to her chest, she crossed the room to stand in front of him.
“It came to me last night.”
What?
“Last night, when you said we would have a breakthrough with this Kako problem. It made me think. What if we don’t need to break through it, but break it?”
She looked so pleased with herself he hated to do anything to bring her down, but he had no clue what she was babbling about.
“I’m sorry, Celia, but I’m not sure I follow.”
She smiled up at him, undeterred by his confusion.
“What if the language is so hard to translate because it’s protected? By magic.”
“Like a spell?”
She nodded. “The reason I couldn’t find the pattern is because there isn’t one. The language consists of several other languages meshed together, but instead of the languages following a set of rules, they kept changing as I read. So when I discovered a particular word was Germanic, the next time I read the word it’s in ancient Demon. A confusion spell. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before.” She shook her head, strands of fiery red hair slipping from her haphazard bun. “It’s a very basic spell. They must have added the spell to the language when they discovered I translated it back in Colorado.”
Fantastic news. “Can you break it?”
She scoffed. “I may be a better scientist than a Witch, but even I can break a confusion spell.”
The news kept getting better. After what happened yesterday, they needed all the good news they could get.
“What do you need?”
She glanced again at the book in her hands. “A few things you already have in the lab, but there are a couple of items you’re out of, so I need to go into town. Do you have a metaphysical store nearby?”
Her eyes rose to meet his once more and then he noticed Celia did not have on her glasses. He never noticed how big and bright her eyes were before. The black-framed glasses seemed to hide them. He knew they were a beautiful emerald green, but he had no idea how appealing. They made her look young, almost innocent.
“Where are your glasses?”
The question took her off guard. “What?”
“Your glasses. You’re not wearing them. How can you see?”
A delicate hand flew to her face as she tried to adjust the absent glasses. He’d seen her do that several times. Why didn’t she get new glasses that fit? Every council paid their employees very well. The main financial team for all the councils was comprised of Goblins and Leprechauns. Both very good with money.
“I don’t really have a strong prescription. I mostly wear them for reading, but since I do that all the time, I tend to keep them on. I was just so excited when I woke up this morning, I guess I rushed down here and forgot to put them on.”
That was true. She still wore the same clothes from last night and her hair was a disheveled mess. Pieces of hair stuck out of the bun all over her head. Celia must have realized how she looked because she ran a hand over her hair self-consciously. Adorable and sexy at the same time.
Damien had a hard time reining in his attraction. Forget that, now full-blown lust.
“So do you?”
Pulled from his sensual thoughts, he focused on the conversation. “Do I what?”
She let out an exasperated breath. “Have a metaphysical shop in town?”
“Oh. Yes, we do. The proprietor is a Witch. Clem. He’s owned the shop for about twenty years now.”
“Clem?” One dark red brow rose doubtfully.
A strange name for a Witch, he knew, but Clem was a good man and a damn good Witch. He never sold to anyone who intended to do harm. The guy followed the rule of “Harm ye none” to the letter. Even when he provided supplies to the Witches in Damien’s council, he only gave them ingredients for spells that captured, never killed. Clem was a good man. He would help them get what they needed.
“The shop opens in about an hour. How about you go up and get ready? I’ll make us some breakfast and then we can head out.”
Those beautiful green eyes widened. “You’re coming with me?”
He smiled at her startled expression. “Someone has to show you where to find Clem’s shop.”
“You’re right. I just thought you would have more important things to do today.”
“Nothing is more important right now than breaking this spell.”
Expression going hard, she nodded. “I suppose you are right.”
He was. “Go on. I’ll whip us up some eggs and bacon.”
“And coffee. Please, coffee.”
Damien chuckled as he ushered Celia out the door ahead of him. “A whole pot, I promise.”
Still clutching the book to her chest, she climbed the stairs.
“Celia?”
She turned, her big, bright eyes wide with question.
“You have beautiful eyes.”
Her mouth dropped open, but she said nothing. He turned and headed toward the kitchen wondering why it felt so good to leave Celia Dahl speechless.
Chapter 7
“Clem’s Place?” Celia stared in confusion at the small wooden sign tacked above the door of the unassuming brick shop.
“Well, technically it is.” Damien shrugged broad shoulders.
She supposed that was true, but most metaphysical shops she knew had mystical names like Spirit Way, or Higher Beings, something inferring an ethereal level. Clem’s Place sounded like a bait and tackle shop. Upon entering, she decided it looked like a bait and tackle shop, too.
Bric-a-brac cluttered every shelf. Dried herbs hung from the ceiling, candles strewn about, and rocks and gems of all shapes and sizes precariously stacked on shelves. She half-expected Clem to come from the back in a pair of tattered overalls chewing on a piece of straw hanging out the side of his mouth.
“I’ll be right out,” a voice called from somewhere in the rear of the shop.
Celia looked around wondering how she would ever find what she needed for the spell in this mess. How did the man manage to sell anything? Damien said the shop had been in business for twenty years. Eyeing the haphazardly pile
d merchandise, she snorted. Clem must have some loyal customers.
A loud crash sounded from the back, the same location as the voice. Damien rushed through the disorganized bookshelves toward the noise. Not wanting to get lost in the maze of a store, she followed hot on his heels. Expecting to find someone trapped underneath a mountain of witchcraft supplies, she was surprised to see nothing more than a few fallen books scattered across the floor once they reached the source of the commotion.
“Ah-ha! I knew you were hiding up here, you silly little book. Tried to get away from me again. It never works, you know. I always find you.”
Seeing no one on the ground, she gazed up. There, on top of a ladder, stood a short skinny old man. His hair—what was left of it—was gray, wiry, and sticking out all over his head. Thick wire-framed glasses sat on the bridge of his nose. He wore khaki trousers with a plaid button up shirt and black suspenders. A blue bowtie held the collar of his shirt tight across his neck. He reminded her of that crazy professor from a movie she watched once as a child.
“Your book of shadows try to get away from you again, Clem?” Damien chuckled as he addressed the crazy professor look-a-like.
The old man turned his head slightly and looked down. His wrinkled face lit up with a smile.
“Damien! How good to see you, and yes, it was.” He started down the ladder on surprisingly spry legs.
“She’s always trying to hide from me.” He leaned in close as if divulging a secret. “Truthfully, I think the old girl is just trying to keep me in shape by making me go up and down all these ladders looking for her.”
Celia couldn’t stop the giggle that escaped her. What a strange man.
“Celia, may I present Clement Arthur Givens the third. Otherwise known as Clem.”
So this was Clem. Well, he certainly was not what she expected.
Clem stepped down from the last rung of the ladder. Surprise made her mouth drop open at the man’s small stature. He only came up to her shoulders. The old man extended his hand. Bending down, she grabbed a fallen book, placing it in Clem’s outstretched hand while ignoring the man’s confused expression. By now, she knew every way to avoid a handshake or touch. She was used to people looking at her strangely, but most people shrugged it off as Clem did now.
“Thank you, Celia.” Clem accepted the book and placed it on the shelf behind him.
“You have a very…well-stocked shop.”
The old man laughed. “Oh she’s a good one, Damien. Very PC. Thank you, my dear, but I realize what a mess it is. What can I say? I’ve never been one for organization, but I know where everything is and in my own way, it has a very precise, albeit messy, system.”
A smile tugged at her lips. Though he looked like a mad scientist and his shop felt like a hoarder’s dream, she instantly liked something about Clem.
“So what can I do for you two?”
“I need supplies for a spell.”
Clem’s head turned toward Damien. “I thought I stocked up your lab last week.”
“You did, but this is something I hadn’t anticipated.”
Clem’s eyes—made large by the thick-lensed glasses—widened giving him the appearance of an owl. “Now there’s something I thought I’d never see, the great council leader Damien, unprepared. You’re always so, so…organized and controlled.”
Damien slanted a look her way. “So I’ve been recently told.”
She ducked her head to hide a smile. Digging into her bag, she produced a sheet of paper on which she had written every ingredient she needed. She handed the paper to Clem.
“I need these things. I’m hoping you have them all.”
The Witch quickly scanned the list, nodding his head as he went along. “Yes, yes, yes. I have everything you need. Breaking a confusion spell if I’m not mistaken?”
He was good. A confusion spell was easy to cast, but slightly more complex to break. The long list of ingredients had to be performed specifically. She also had to deal with the complicated matter of the attachment to this particular spell.
While she got ready, Celia had discovered another spell accompanying the confusion spell, set in place, no doubt, in case anyone tried to break the confusion spell. Whoever cast the spell wanted to make sure it wasn’t easy to break and when broken caused pain, a lot of pain.
“There’s also this.”
She hesitated before handing Clem another small bit of paper. This one contained the ingredients for the second spell. Well, not really for the spell, but for the after effects. Clem read the list of herbs she’d written. The old man’s face turned white. His head snapped up to her; hesitation filled his large eyes.
“Are you sure?”
She nodded gravely, wishing she wasn’t. “I’m sure.”
Damien glanced between the two, the confusion on his face evident. She didn’t tell him about the second spell. Telling him would only upset him and it wasn’t like he could do anything about it.
The Witch stroked his chin, assessing her with a worried glance. “Can you…?”
“I’ll be fine.”
Disgruntled at being left out of the conversation, Damien glared at her. “What do you mean you’ll be fine? Of course, you’ll be fine. It’s just a simple spell to break, right?”
Celia said nothing. When Damien looked Clem’s way, the shopkeeper dropped his head, pretending to study the lists she had given him.
“Celia?”
Clem, shifting on his feet, grasped the lists tightly in his wrinkled hands. Backing away, he mumbled under his breath, “I’ll just gather these things for you. I’ll have everything ready for you up at the front.”
The little old man disappeared between bookshelves. Sucking in a deep breath, she braced herself. She had hoped to do the spell without Damien knowing about the second spell, but then she had forgotten he was Mr. I’m-in-control-of-everything-and-must-know-all. Why couldn’t he be more like Racine and just let her do her work without butting in?
He placed a finger under her chin, forcing her to look at him. “Celia?”
Why did he have to touch her so much? And why did she have to like it? She hated being touched, avoided it whenever possible, especially with strangers. So why did she enjoy Damien’s touch? Why did his hand on her skin fill her with a sense of peace when everyone else’s filled her with panic? She had to get a hold of herself. She was here to do a job, not moon over Damien like some lovesick schoolgirl.
Staring him straight in the eye, she stiffened her spine and dove right in.
“There’s a second spell attached to the confusion spell.”
He said nothing, waiting for her to continue.
“Well, it’s less of a spell and more of a…curse.”
One thick eyebrow raised in question.
“Whoever set the spell didn’t want it broken, but just in case they wanted to make sure the person who broke it suffered.”
“Suffered?”
The slowly simmering anger she heard in his voice was what she expected. She’d only known the Euadaemon a few weeks, but what she did know was he hated seeing anyone suffer, especially the innocent. One of the things she had come to admire about him.
“Yes. There’s a blood curse attached. Whoever breaks the spell has to make a sacrifice of blood. Their blood.”
Silver eyes turned dark as he stared down at her. “No.”
“Damien, I have to do this. If we don’t break this spell, the Kakos could turn thousands of humans into Drones before I even decode the last of the message we have. If I break the spell, I can learn their language in a day, maybe less. Then I can teach everyone. We’ll know what they are saying maybe even discover their leader.”
“Let someone else do it,” he growled.
Growled! He actually growled at her, like a caged tiger. He looked as mad as a tiger right now, but she wouldn’t let it deter her.
“No. I’m the best person for the job and you know it. I can learn the language the quickest, especially with the con
fusion spell broken. I’ll be fine, Damien. I promise.”
Judging by the mulish expression on his face, he didn’t appear convinced.
“How much?”
“What?”
“How much blood do you have to sacrifice?”
“Oh.” At least he didn’t continue arguing with her. “I’m not sure. Every blood curse is different, but not enough to kill me. I’ll be fine. I’ve survived worse.”
Darn it! Why had she said that? Damien looked surprised by her confession, too. The anger left his face, replaced by shock and suspicion.
“What do you mean by that?”
Her lips pressed together. She never told anyone about her past. Even Racine and Bucky had no idea what her life was like before she came to work for the council. She never offered and no one ever asked. How she liked it. If she didn’t talk about it, she didn’t have to remember. Except in her dreams, she couldn’t stop the memories there.
“Never mind.”
He took a step forward, crowding her. His large hand cupped the back of her neck, causing a shiver of responsiveness across her skin. His silver gray eyes searched hers.
“Who hurt you, Celia?”
She could barely find the breath to answer him. He was too close. Her body sparked with desire, too aware of him as a man.
“It doesn’t matter. They can’t hurt me anymore.”
Damien leaned in close until she felt his hot breath on her lips. Her heart pounded so loudly, she was sure he heard it.
“No one will ever hurt you again. I swear it.”
A sweet promise, but one she knew he could never keep. He must have sensed the doubt in her because his hold tightened. He moved in closer, so close they pressed together from groin to chest.
“I will protect you, Celia. I promise.”
With that vow, his lips descended on hers, claiming, devouring, and yet gentle. He kissed the breath right out of her. Without conscious thought, her hands grasped his shoulders, holding on for the ride. And what a ride it was. She had never been kissed with such fervor, such passion. Tiny sparks of pleasure traveled the length of her body and settled down in the depths. Great gods the man could kiss!
Daemon Deception Page 5