Daemon Grudge

by Stacey Brutger

  She pushed herself to her feet, stifling a groan when her body protested, not wanting him to see how the thought scared the ever-loving piss out of her. “No thank you.”

  “Then we fight until we learn more.”

  She couldn’t stifle her groan this time.

  As she straightened, she saw a body fly across the room…the same guy who snarked at her when she first entered. Turning her head, she saw Atticus standing with his hands on his hips, his wicked smile showing a bit too much fang to be friendly.

  The kid hit hard, plowing up dirt, and then didn’t move.

  Seeming satisfied, Atticus grunted and turned back to his class.

  Suppressing her smile, Octavia turned, then winced when she found Warrick standing in front of her and not Keegan. She rolled her shoulders, trying to loosen up her muscles. His smile was slow, enjoyment and anticipation sparking in his blue eyes, promising her a morning of torture, and she stifled a sigh at the coming pain.

  She could do this.

  “Jump to the second level.” Warrick crossed his arms, his legs spread, a commanding presence who expected to be obeyed.

  Octavia looked up…maybe fifteen feet. Easy enough. She ran toward the wall, waiting until she was five feet away, then launched herself up. She landed easily on the small cement lip and caught the railing.

  When she looked down, it was to see Warrick leap into the air and up over her head to land on the opposite side of the railing, directly in front of her. His smile turned devilish, and she couldn’t help but stiffen.

  “You can manipulate air. Let’s see if you can stop yourself from falling.” Without hesitation, he shoved her in the chest, launching her backwards.

  Octavia let out an embarrassing eep, then felt herself falling. She tried to grab for the air, but she was going too fast. Instinct took over and she twisted, landing on the tips of her fingers and toes like a cat, just a couple of inches off the ground. She glared over her shoulder at Warrick. “A little warning would’ve been nice.”

  His eyebrows rose, and he snorted. “Do you think your enemy will let you know ahead of time that they intend to kill you? Again.”

  Pushing herself upright, she walked toward where he stood, then jumped and grabbed the railing. Before she could steady herself, he shoved her again, sending her flying.

  She concentrated on gathering the air, but the drop was too quick. Again, she twisted at the last second, landing in a crouch, more than a little annoyed with herself.

  “Again.”

  She didn’t bother hiding her growl, hating the pleasure he was taking out of punishing her. She jumped to the second level, braced herself for the blow. Instead, he pursed his lips.

  “Your instincts will always take over and try to protect you.” Then his eyes brightened in a way that made her swallow hard, knowing pain was going to follow. “Cross your arms over your chest.”

  She hesitated a second before sighing in defeat. She might as well get it over with. The second her arms were crossed, she went soaring backwards. Ignoring the ground flying up at her, she focused on the air, felt it pulling toward her…too late. She landed with a thump, flat on her back, dirt flying up around her as the air was knocked out of her lungs.

  Titters of laughter were muffled by the ringing in her ears. Without being told, she slowly pulled herself to her feet. Three more times she landed with the same results, but she could feel herself getting closer.

  When she jumped back to the second level, her legs wobbled, her back a series of throbbing bruises. Warrick was no longer smiling when she crossed her arms and gave him a nod.

  When he wavered for a second, Octavia shook her head, then stepped backwards. She was rewarded by his startled expression, and he automatically went to reach for her. She gazed into his eyes as she was falling. Instead of trying to bend the air to her will, she let instinct take over, called the magic, and trusted it to protect her. Her body heated as the air wrapped around her like a warm breeze seconds before impact, her momentum slowed and she landed, soft as a feather, barely feeling the ground beneath her.

  She grinned up at Warrick in triumph.

  There was no smile or praise, not that she expected anything of the sort.

  Nor did she anticipate him drawing a gun on her and opening fire. Octavia thrust up her hands, feeling the first bullet slide through the side of her arm, the next skim along the outer edge of her thigh.

  Shouts rang in the cavern as kids scrambled out of the way, and the rest of the team ran toward her. The air heated around her, and she watched as the bullets slowed, a streak of displaced air following behind. Two, three, and four bullets were frozen in something like ballistic gel just inches away from drawing blood.

  She narrowed her eyes in concentration, her hand tingling. As she drew her arm back, her muscles trembled under the strain, and she thrust her hand out. The bullets reversed their trajectory faster than she could track, and she watched Warrick dive for cover.

  A weak chuckle escaped her, echoing in the silence of the pit. The guys didn’t move, standing around her, staring at her with varying degrees of concern. Then Warrick rose and leapt from the second level to land at her feet.

  She expected anger.

  She didn’t expect him to smile back at her and offer his hand.

  She wobbled a bit once she was on her feet, feeling beyond wrung out. Warrick gently shoved her toward Nikos. “Watch over her for the rest of the training.”

  The other two guys bracketed Warrick, both of them grim. Atticus was furious, his wolf shimmering in his eyes, ready to take a bite out of his friend. Keegan looked like he wanted to help by holding Warrick down.

  Even as Nikos steered her away, she could hear their furious whispers.

  He pushed her down on a bench, then crouched at her feet. “Can you heal?”

  Octavia blinked at him, then glanced down at her arm and leg in shock. “He fucking shot me.”

  “And instead of running, you caught the bullets and threw them back at him.” He shook his head, his normally black eyes full of amber. “You’re crazier than I am.”

  He almost sounded admiring.

  He examined her injuries, reaching for her, and she leaned away. “I think I can manage.”

  “You’re exhausted.” He scowled up at her, then his face softened. “Will you allow me?”

  When he reached for her, she captured his wrist, and he pulled her forward until their faces were just inches apart. The humor she was used to seeing was absent. He looked like he cared. The smell of sun and sand seduced her into relaxing.

  Not wanting to concede defeat, she shook her head. “Show me.”

  A thrill shot through her at the idea of learning how to use her abilities. She doubted Eldon when he said she would gain them, and imagined it was kind of like how a kid would feel when getting a present on Christmas or their birthday.

  Something happened last night that allowed her abilities to finally emerge…just too fucking late to save Eldon. She refused to allow that to happen again. Bottling up the crushing sadness, she shoved it away to examine later, and whispered to him, “Show me.”

  Nikos’s eyes dropped to her lips, his breath catching, and gave her a slight, distracted nod. He didn’t retreat, his dark eyes enticing as he licked his lips. “Fine, but I want a reward.”

  When she would’ve retreated, he captured her wrist in turn, forcing her to keep holding his arm, the action more intimate than she liked. She ignored the throbbing pain from her injuries and narrowed her eyes at him, refusing to be seduced. “What do you want?”

  “I want you to use your powers for evil.”

  Octavia blinked at him in amusement, not expecting that, then she cocked her head and studied him more closely. “I’m listening.”

  “You tweaked the tiger’s tail today.” His smile bloomed slowly, mischief dancing in his eyes. “I’ll teach you anything you want to know if you keep doing it and don’t stop.”

  She expected him to demand a kiss o
r his room back, not some shenanigans, and she couldn’t help wonder if he was setting her up. “Why?”

  His smile dropped away, his eyes going black as emotions drained from him until only a damaged shell remained. “Because you made him smile. You surprised him. You made him feel.” He glanced at his friends, desolation oozing from him like a festering wound. “You can save them.”

  “Them…not you?” She ignored the others and focused on him.

  His bright smile didn’t reach the black void of his eyes. “Some people aren’t worth saving.”

  She switched tactics. “Save them from what?”

  He released her wrist, pulling away. “From becoming like me.”

  She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees, ignoring the twinge of her back and the sting of her wounds. “But what if I like the way you are?”

  He blinked at her, opened his mouth, then closed it. He cleared his throat, his voice gruff, “You shouldn’t. I’ll only hurt you in the end.”

  “Maybe, but some things are worth the pain.” She straightened, biting back a groan at the way her body had stiffened. “Your deal? I won’t give up if you don’t.”

  She placed her hands on her knees, tightening her grip as nerves tried their best to consume her, unsure why his answer mattered so much to her. He was looking at his teammates when he gave one short nod. He cleared his throat one more time, then lifted his hands.

  An amber glow shimmered between his palms. It was different from the way Keegan used his abilities. While Keegan was a warm summer breeze, Nikos burned bitingly cold. She lifted her hand and carefully slid it between his. Ice skated along her skin, the magic licked at her fingers, and she stopped it from crawling up her arms to heal her.

  It danced along her hand like an eager puppy, the playful personality reminding her of Nikos himself when he was in one of his moods. When she ran her finger along his palms, his hands flexed and the magic calmed. She lifted her other hand and concentrated on the taste of his magic.

  Warmth rose from her bones like a fever sweeping over her. What looked like cinders burned under her skin. Static crackled along her fingers almost painfully when Nikos leaned in to her personal space.

  “Good…now focus on your injuries. It will sense the damaged tissue and repair it.” He touched her knee and the fire shot up from her bones and slammed into him, so strong he grunted from the impact.

  She tried to pull back, but it was like they were locked into place. Pain pulsed in her chest, a tugging sensation latched onto her powers, and she was pulled down into the swirling whirlpool. A bright light appeared at the end, and she held up her arm to shade her eyes.

  As her vision adjusted, a woman wearing sandals and a type of robe mostly worn in Grecian times was leaning over a trellis, smelling a tangle of flowers that stood near a burbling fountain. Her blonde hair was spun up and held by what appeared to be a string of gold woven in the strands, leaving ringlets to fall around her shoulders. A golden glow surrounded her, raw power that saturated the very air.

  Octavia’s throat tightened, fear churning in her stomach. She knew who the woman was without being told. “Pythia.”

  The stunning woman glanced up, giving her a sad smile. “Hello, Octavia. I’ve been waiting for you.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Warrick

  “Why am I here?” Octavia glanced around the garden, searching for an exit, the need to leave making her shuffle her feet, but couldn’t see anything past the vegetation but a yawning expanse of gray nothingness.

  Kindness shimmered in Pythia’s deep blue eyes, resembling sparkling diamonds. “Your magic summoned me.”

  Octavia immediately shook her head, knowing she wouldn’t have called on Pythia, not when it meant she would die all the sooner. No matter how much she went over her conversation with Nikos, she didn’t know what she did to attract the attention of the stone. “I don’t understand.”

  Pythia smiled, humor dancing across her expression. “You made a wish to protect your mates.”

  “Mates? As in more than one?” Octavia couldn’t stop the way her voice squeaked. Her heart stopped in her chest, then galloped away. Excitement shot through her for about a second at just the thought of never being alone again, when reality slammed into her hard, and she quickly shook her head and backed away, as if she could run from her future. “No, no way, not them.”

  Musical laughter tinkled in the air, then the amusement faded, sadness tinging the oracle’s face. “The choice is yours, but I fear that without you, they will die in the coming war. You are the only one who can keep them safe.”

  Octavia wanted to continue with her denial, shove her head in the sand, but her chest physically ached at the thought of even one of them dying. She might not want to mate them, but that didn’t mean she wanted them to die. “How?”

  “You need to accept your abilities and learn how to wield them. No more hiding. No more running. You won’t be able to stop the coming war, but you can save the people who have no one to protect them.” Pythia gazed into the fountain, trailing her fingers along the surface of the water, as if she could divine the future in the hypnotizing ripples.

  “But why me?” That was the one question Octavia couldn’t answer. “There were many people much more qualified—”

  “Some may have more experience, but none are more qualified,” Pythia chided.

  “And Eldon?” The question slipped out before she could stop it, anger cracking her calm. “Why did you kill him?”

  “I didn’t kill him.” True sorrow shadowed her face, and she tipped back her head, closing her eyes as if to soak up the warmth of the sun. “He had a choice—”

  “Bullshit.” Unable to remain still, Octavia began pacing, the grass under her bare feet feeling surprisingly real, the air sharp and crisp. Even the breeze playing with the tips of her hair felt real. “He should never have been given the stone. He—”

  “He accepted the stone willingly, knowing the consequences,” Pythia murmured quietly. “He saw the future and took the only action that he found acceptable.”

  “He died!” Octavia whirled, fury sizzling along her veins.

  “He died changing the future. He died saving lives.” Pythia dipped her head in respect for his sacrifice. “He died to give you and your mates a chance to live. It wasn’t my place to make that decision for him. I’m just a guide, and could only show him the consequences of his choices.”

  Her heart cracked at knowing Pythia was correct—Eldon was a warrior, and it was his job to protect those under his care. He wasn’t built to shirk his duties, even if it had cost him his life. Octavia bowed her head, blinking back tears, struggling to let go of the guilt that said she should’ve been able to save him if only she’d known.

  “How long do I have until the stone kills me?” She wasn’t afraid for herself. She knew it was just a matter of time before her card was punched. But she made a promise to herself to take down Kronos, one she was determined to keep.

  Pythia rose to her feet and gently cupped Octavia’s face, compassion softening her features. “The stone was created for the gods, and it was yours the moment you claimed it, child. You weren’t created in the labs, you were created by something far more powerful—your own stubbornness. You weren’t put on the earth to suffer—though it forged you into the strong woman who stands in front of me—you were sent to save it.

  “I’m your guide for as long as you need me, and my powers are bound to yours. But be warned, there is a danger in knowing the future…choosing to shape the future will taint you. I hope you’re strong enough to resist.”

  Pythia leaned forward and kissed her forehead. “Your mates are waiting for you. If you want to save them, you must make peace with your past. No more running. If you want to survive, you must embrace your abilities. No more hiding.”

  Pythia pulled away with a smile, her hands resting gently on Octavia’s shoulders, then the woman shoved her backwards so unexpectedly that Octavia stumbled…an
d landed back into her own body, the garden replaced by the pit and Nikos’s concerned eyes gazing up at her.

  Her mate?

  She tested the truth of it and found herself more curious than freaked out. Then her thoughts were stolen when static crackled across her skin so sharply she grunted, warmth licking at her wounds as they stitched together in one pain-inducing breath.

  “Octavia…” He gripped her arms almost painfully as the magic between them faltered and faded, his face pale when he shifted to block her view of the rest of the room. “Your eyes.”

  She frowned, and cocked her head in confusion, then realized only a few seconds actually passed while she was gone. She reached up and touched her cheek. “What’s wrong with my eyes?”

  Instead of answering, he gave a sharp whistle, never once taking his gaze off her.

  “Nikos…” She pulled away, fighting his grip when he refused to release her. “You’re starting to freak me out.”

  Only when the others came to her side did he break his gaze, and glance up at them. “Her eyes went pure white. Raw power surged in her before she could mask it. Whatever she is…she’s not a daemon.”

  Warrick stepped in front of her, breaking Nikos’s hold on her arms. He cupped her jaw, tipping her head back, the masculine lines of his face like granite as he searched her own. She’d swear concern flashed in his eyes for a second before the pale blue frosted over with ice.

  “What did the stone show you?”

  Dread churned inside Warrick at the thought of Octavia using the stone. He refused to stand idly by while the life slowly drained out of her. It would destroy something inside him. He didn’t know why he cared so much for the foolish girl. She was full of brash courage and snark…and he couldn’t keep his eyes off her.

  She captivated him.

  He didn't want to be attracted to her. It complicated things, clouded his judgment, but there was no denying the panic that threatened to swallow him whole at the thought of her dying.

  “We have to get the stone out of her.” She was too important to their future to leave it to chance.