by Gina Kincade
Even now that his demon controlled them all, the failsafe being if he could somehow manage to exorcise his, the coven would join together to go after him the same way. He'd find himself the unnatural beast the demon turned him into permanently. Even if he could find the power to destroy it, send the serpent back to hell, another coven to help him maybe, his family would never hear of it. He couldn't imagine the fallout after. They'd put the little devil back in, through ritual, through sacrifice, the same way his father, being the kind and generous parental figure he was, had put the hellion inside his son to begin with.
Ciaran had often feared, since his father's death, that one of his brothers may even let the demon destroy him, take him over permanently, in order to take over the coven, the business, for their own. Then he'd have never seen her again. He shook off the horrible thought, a chill snaking down his spine, tingling through his heart. If any of it had been his choice, he'd have laid it all at their feet long ago; the money, the business, the coven, the damnable beast, if only he could walk away a free man. His only choice was to find a way to destroy all the demons at once, but so far nothing in all his father's crap had led him to think it possible. He'd searched, too. Not through it all yet. His father had amassed more crap concerning the cult than any man he knew of.
First, he needed a solid plan to not only rid himself of the fiend, but to ensure his getaway permanently from them all. So far, even an idea of where to start a plan had eluded him. He'd spent the time since his father's death working on just that, figuring out the best scenario to get out of it all, the business, the coven, the family even, and just disappear with enough money to hide out long enough for things to die down and then go and find Allanah. He'd searched for a blocking spell, one to hide his demon from the others, to no avail. The goblin served as a satanic tracking device to the demons in his brothers and the other men in the coven.
In the meantime, he'd been funneling money into secret accounts, looking into locations, even buying a few, unseen since he couldn't risk being followed. Then, pictures in hand of remote islands, cottages, and such, he'd daydream about being there with Allanah. Admittedly, the latter had taken up the biggest chunk of his free time. He had two places so far. One he already had a small staff of two, a husband and wife without family, living on and tending to. Next step, he'd buy a false identification and a private plane. Once he learned to fly the damn thing, he'd take it there and stay forever so he couldn't be followed. Of course, it all came down to silencing or abolishing the monster within first. But, he took care of what he could until then.
Seeing Allanah unexpectedly, out of his time line anyway, last night, had set him off, made everything about him off kilter. And, he couldn't deal with that. It just didn't work for him. Not for a man with a demon ever present, always lurking in wait for an excuse to force the transformation, to beast out, and possibly to destroy or kill. The blood lust alone could drive a man insane, make the beast the permanent controller of a man's being, his very nature, if not careful. And, long ago, his wonderful father had even threatened to force his beast to kill Allanah if he disobeyed the family, didn't take on his proper roll. His brothers, now, could easily do the same.
He shook his head as he adjusted in his chair, secretly studying her as she took in the view from the window. How could he tell her such a thing? Ever? As the prickling of his scalp echoed the quiver in his stomach, self-hatred escalated to self-loathing. The ludicrousness of the whole thing, the unbelievable reality factor alone, put him over the edge even imagining her finding out. Those facts kept the men in the family, in the coven, in check. Tell and be locked up in a straight jacket for life, medicated, or who knows what. Not like anyone would believe him, and if he turned as proof, they'd probably not live to tell about it. Or, if even possible, humans could trap one of them, and then what, side show attraction? Medical study? None of the options were a life, so allegiance it was. For them all.
He became overheated for more reasons than the one obvious in front of him, and the one not so obvious hidden inside of him. He needed a plan, needed to be in control of it to banish it, without his brothers and coven knowing. Or, he needed a reliable protection spell to make his whereabouts unknown to them. His and Allanah's. It had been his dream his whole life since meeting her, since acquiring, by force, his demon.
Ariazurel, it whispered its name. A current of electricity skated under his skin, begging to be let out, to devour the girl.
Never, he hissed back in his head. I will banish you one day. I promise you that.
The demon only laughed, causing his blood to rush like a current of flames through his veins until he heard the thunder of his own internal tempest in his head. If he didn't get control of it, it would soon storm outside again. The power within could become strong enough to affect the weather. He had to channel the demon somehow. If she stayed any longer, and he couldn't have her, the man in him have her, the demon would happily feed off of his sexual frustration. He would have no choice but to channel that energy into the atmosphere until he feared someone may have to build an ark.
"Did this room look like this when your father lived in the house? This is the main suite, right? Was it once his domain? You took it for yourself?" She asked, silencing his frantic, wayward reverie as she turned from the window to look him in the eye.
Even though he suddenly felt exposed, as if she could read his errant thoughts, he kept her gaze, challenged it, in fact. Turning toward her, he squared his shoulders, letting his spine straighten him up to his full height seated still. Never one to back down, she pushed back her own shoulders, showing off her two perfectly formed breasts. Her hands found her hips, making his fingers itch with jealousy.
"No, not at all. I mean, yes, it was his, but I reclaimed it by gutting it and starting over like I did downstairs. I had to do away with every last trace of him. Again, reclaim the space in order to make it mine. Too much here, too?"
"You did go crazy here. Well, you went all out, but not like you did downstairs. This is beautiful. I can't imagine having a room like this of my own to lounge in. I'd never even have thought to do such a thing. I have a flat."
"In New York. Yes, I know. Sorry. Go on."
"That's right," she laughed, giving him a teasing lift of one eyebrow, but the genuine light that twinkled in her eyes nearly shook him to his core. "I simply added furniture, a few paintings and knickknacks I've gathered along the way in my travels. My decorating style is eclectic, at best, yet more an album of memories; a travel diary, if you will."
"I'd love to see it sometime. I can't, however, take the credit for this. My designer came up with several ideas, and I merely said yes or no until this happened."
"I love it. So pure. So cozy. Yet, so...wow."
He looked around the room, as if he could see it again for the first time, as a neutral observer through her eyes. It was simple, especially color wise, if that was what she meant by pure. Whites and woods with clean cut lines pervaded the space. Still, if the hues made it look simple, it was so in a truly extravagant way. An infinity edge hot tub sat up against another wall of windows, overlooking the ocean. When in it, it appeared the water flowed to the ocean, and he liked the connection to nature. With the tub being huge, big enough for at least eight people, it served as the focus of the room, surrounded by deep cream, leather couches and recliners. A few tables of dark wood left quite the contrast to the water and leather.
"Do you mind dinner in here?" he asked. "We can lounge in the water, actually. I have tables that hook on the edges of the tub, or we can eat on the couches. I didn't want to be as formal as eating in the dining room. Hope that is okay?"
"No, I prefer it actually. And I would take you up on the hot tub dining if I didn't have to do it in my birthday suit. You didn't mention bringing a bathing suit."
"Ah, while the birthday suit gets my vote," he said with a smile and wink to let her know, hopefully, that he was joking, even though that would be a lie in all honesty. "But, serious
ly, just through those doors is my bathroom. The hallway in to it is lined with closets that are like going to the store to shop for a bathing suit. Should have every style, size, shape and color you could image."
"Of course you do. Why wouldn't you? I mean it would be crazy to not think you had something so insane in there as to have a store in your closet," she said, attempting to tease him, he could tell, even though the banter covered her truth of maybe mild distaste or disbelief.
He couldn't know. He just wished he could.
"It was my decorator's idea, too, actually. That way, she said, a dip in the hot tub need never be planned no matter who was visiting. She even bought all the suits, men's and women's. I just supplied the credit card."
"I kind of figured that."
"You know, all of this extreme decorating, all of this stuff, it's just therapy, really. I hope you don't take the extravagances for arrogance or to show off my wealth. I hope you know me better than that. When my father died, I had such a hard time. You can't mourn one you hated, outside of finally mourning the loss, the possibility of ever having a real father, one to love, who loved you. I hated so much about him that I felt the need, right or wrong, to destroy all he had done to the house. Maybe tearing it down would have made more sense, but I needed to reclaim. Plus, I needed to waste some of his money on myself, on things that were just me. Not that he didn't invest money in me, but it was all for his gain, and I can't explain it, but doing this was like a fuck you, I can be my own man sort of thing. Childish. Sure. Therapeutic, more importantly. I had the money. So, I did it up right. Sorry, I hope that doesn't lessen me in your eyes."
"Not at all. I met the man, remember. I don't think anything you could do for revenge, no, that's too strong a word maybe, for healing, for whatever, could be misunderstood, or held against you. He made your life hell in so many ways. I know that."
"Hell. Yes. Good choice of words. Thank you for understanding. It means so much to me."
"No problem. But, suits. I want to go shopping and then heat, so, lead the way," she stated, enthusiasm in her voice that proved so easily contagious.
While she shopped for a suit, and then toured his bathroom and bedroom, he took her comments as teasing rather than criticisms. Her demeanor had changed, in a good way, from the party. He'd given apologizing to her everything he had, going for honest. Well, as honest as he could be. No matter what it took, he'd no intention of letting her get away from him again. The time may not be ideal, but maybe love, something he could only experience with her, had given him hope.
He'd not experienced such emotions in over a decade: hope, happiness, love. Just like a man yearning and devoted to a woman, she made him better, completed him. Of course, back then, during the short time he'd been blessed to call her his, he hadn't had a slithering servant of hell moving around inside of him, always fighting for control.
But, everyone had their problems, right?
He knew without a shadow of a doubt, no danger would come to her by his hands, his monster. He had to hope, against all hope, that being with him would not put her in danger of anyone else, though. His father was dead. He ran his own life now. Well, to a greater degree than he had at any other time in his life. What would his brothers care who he dated? They never had before. Unless his father had left some sort of instructions where she was concerned, but that had to be mere paranoia sneaking in. He hadn't seen her or spoken of her in over thirteen years.
As they slid into the tub, he feigned normal. He let himself be just a man who ached all over to be against this angelic creature in a small, yet, of course, not skimpy enough, bathing suit. Too close for any sort of comfort, he watched as the warm water covered her. A smile grew on her face with each inch, as his faded in conjunction with the loss of her body to view.
"What luxury," she exclaimed. "I have a big whirlpool bathtub in my place. I like to make the bathroom all spa like and soak. But this! It's something else. The sound of the falling water. The sights of the room and outside. I'm in heaven."
"Me, too, but only because you are here."
"Oh, man, you never were smooth with the lines were you, lady killer?" She giggled, granting him a brief glimpse at the young girl she used to be when he'd first met her: carefree, hopeful, and determined. "Of course, with your looks, you wouldn't have to be."
"I'm just trying to be honest here. Not a line if you mean it. And, I do. To be with you again, there are no words, no lines, to explain it. I wouldn't even bother to try."
"I'll admit, it is nice, to let oneself be carried away by the memories; well, the good ones. Reminiscing, catching up, is all well and good. But, us, I'm not sure if it is... I have to go back to New York... I..."
"Stop. I know you have to go back soon. I just need to live here in the moment with you, if that is okay. The future, I'll worry about that later. Deal?"
"Sure. Deal. Just, we need to watch, the interaction that is."
"What do you think I have in mind?"
"I don't know, or don't want to, I guess. I just know it's more than we should engage in."
"You're not thinking of it? How it used to be between us?"
"Of course I am. But, we can't. I can't. Not again, and then leave. It's already going to be hard enough. Old feelings, not letting them surface to much, it's proving an impossible challenge already. I'm trying to live in the moment here without making future ones in New York miserable. Do you know what I mean?"
"More than you know. I will follow your lead," he promised, telling her as much truth as he could.
He meant it. The demon voted only for devouring her now, encouraged by his desire for her, but following her lead, that had been a warning to the thing to behave. He needed to say out loud that he was in control, if only to encourage himself as well.
"Oh, don't do that. One of us has to be sane. Please tell me it will be you. I'm not sure I have it in me at the moment."
As she looked him up and down with obvious admiration, a hint of that heated girlish twinkle in her eye he remembered all too well with every cell of his body. The demon, never to be ignored, surged through him with each shot of lust. At the same time, the thing from hell battled every flash of what he knew love to be, forcing him to refocus his concentration moment to moment. He sat up straight, pushed his back against the wall of the hot tub, forcing water to slosh over the edge behind him.
"Did I say something wrong? I can't tell. I mean, your body language is stay away, but you have something like fear etching your face, and I don't believe a man like you even knows that emotion. You didn't before, so why would you now?" She asked, her concern genuine.
"I know fear," Ciaran said, holding onto the scream of frustration he wanted to let out. "Fear is why I let you go. Fear for you. For your safety. What I fear now, though, is holding back. Keeping my distance enough that you will stay longer. Come back again. Maybe even let me visit you in New York, and see you there. I'm probably pushing too hard, too fast, already right there. I want to be honest with you. I really do, but there is so much about me, so many things I've done, have been. Those around me..."
"Those around you? You mean your brothers? Do I have something to fear from them? Will they take up where your father left off? I mean, I have money now. Surely I am no longer a poor girl unworthy of you. Wait, are you afraid for me now, in this moment?"
He watched her back up, take a quick look around her. It cut him right to his core. The pain, a stab in the gut, quickened his breathing. He'd frightened her.
The demon surged again to the surface, threatening a shift. Jaw tight, every muscle tighter, he held it in with everything in him even though the electricity of the change threatened, churning in his veins, chilling his heated skin. The urge grew so strong, the threat of the agony of it grew almost palatable. This had never happened before with a woman, but, then again, he'd never had feelings for another. He'd never thought he'd have to protect Allanah from his own evil. Had the damn thing been programmed by his father, or was this just
the demon thing to do, cursing the man it lived within from ever having anything true, anyone or anything pure and good in his life? The malignant imp hated love.
"No. Yes! Maybe. I just need a minute. Know, I will always do everything in my power to protect you. I love you." He'd let the words foremost in his turbulent thoughts rush out, as if he'd never see her again, never again get the chance to say so.
His eyes flashed red, and she gasped. He couldn't stick around to comfort her. Moving as quickly as he could out of the water, he half ran, half slid to his bedroom, grasping the walls, doorknobs, anything he could to keep moving forward. When his feet, luckily still human, hit the plush carpet of his bedroom, he slammed the door and locked it.
Catching his breath, away from her smell, he closed his eyes. Even though he couldn't see her anymore, he focused on the calm, the water, the ocean. Oddly, the demon had its own rage that crashed like his own, which called to the damn thing. The irony or paradox, whatever the roundabout of the twisted situation was, clawed at him, like the demon did inside him, making him double over, clutch his stomach, hold his breath. Holding back the demon, the shift into his horrible beast, by the skin of his teeth, he ground them together. The thunder came, then, as he knew it would. Lightning ripped through the sky, illuminating his reflection in the full length mirror on one wall. In his mind, though, he didn't see the man he still remained; he saw only the beast.
From the red, glowing eyes centered in a misshapen head, to a pointed jaw covered in fur, the mouth within it riddled with sharp, hideously decaying teeth of uneven lengths. While bits of him in beast form remained humanesque, from his hands and feet, though larger, more bony, covered with thin brownish-black skin. Still, his monster form reeked of hell and towered to the point it needed to hunch over even with his high ceilings. Manly abs shown a better cut six pack than he had, though again, he worked his body hard, so this version was grotesquely cut within the dark skin. As for the rest of its body, all he could see was the hair. The fur, if one could call it that, as he'd no idea if his beast was truly animal, grew short only on the face. However, the fur slash hair stood, rather than hung, at least a good foot long all over his back, arms and legs, ratted into waves that stuck up straight. Something like static electricity sizzled through it, keeping it out as far as it could be.