Demon Soul

by Christine Ashworth

"Ease off, Gabriel," cautioned Justin. "As much as I'm enjoying watching Harry turn blue, let him go."

  Gabriel eased his hand open. Harry slapped at Gabriel's arms, his round face contorted with fear and rage.

  "Why do you want to know? Planning on killing her?" he hissed. "I’ve heard talk." Kellan and Justin turned to look at Gabriel and they both froze.

  Gabriel’s demon snapped free. His eyes whirled electric-green and his hands had begun to change shape. With a roar, he leaned over, picked Harry up, and threw him against the back wall, a masterpiece of bottles of booze. Harry landed face down behind the bar, showered in alcohol and glass.

  "Great. Just great," Justin said as Gabriel jumped over the bar and swung, catching Harry right on the chin. Harry retaliated by throwing a bottle of gin at him. Gabriel dodged the bottle, heard it shatter behind him.

  A woman screamed. As though her scream had flipped a switch, fists started flying all over the bar, with four stocky young men heading toward the Caines. Justin turned to meet two of them, leaving the other two for Gabriel and Kellan. He didn’t have a clue how to restrain Gabriel, to beat his demon back. As he fought, Justin thought just as furiously.

  He could send more rednecks toward Gabriel. Justin blocked a blow and with his other fist, dropped the guy with a punch to the upper chest. His buddy veered away, his eyes wide.

  Justin turned and saw Gabriel, his skin darkened, his hands changed and his eyes whirling electric green. Great. Justin stepped in front of a leather-clad punk that kept swinging at Gabriel and dispatched him with a well-placed kick. Gabriel didn’t seem to notice, just plowed across the room, his fists swinging indiscriminately.

  "Behind you, Justin!"

  Turning from the leatherhead in front of him, Justin plowed his fists—one into the stomach, the other at the throat—into a guy who'd reached for something - knife, gun, he didn't know but didn't wait to find out. The guy dropped like a stone.

  Justin knew they needed to wrap this up before someone called the cops. He’d never get Gabriel under control once the authorities showed up. He swung into the rhythm of the fight. His blood sang as he hit, jabbed, and kicked his way to the front door where Kellan deflected blows easily, making the two men trying to pound on him angrier. A flurry of blows later and the two men had fallen on top of each other scrambling to get away. They fled out the door and Kellan grinned at Justin.

  Someone threw a chair into the big screen TV, but it just bounced off and fell on the floor with a clatter. A couple that had huddled up against the wall, watching the fight, chose that moment to run.

  Justin kept an eye on them as the two scurried out through the billiards room to the patio beyond and saw them veering away to give someone else room to come into the bar. Weres. His senses went on full alert as a group of them headed their way.

  Shit. He reached mentally for Kellan, then Gabriel. Guys. Weres at ten o'clock.

  Both men turned to look in that direction while holding off an attack.

  Justin dodged a fist, grabbed it and pushed the brawler to the front door. I'll try to get this lot on their way, so we can get this handled. Gabriel, shake off your demon, now!

  Kellan frowned. You sure we should work with them? It’s not like we need the manpower.

  I’m sure. We need allies, trust me. Watch it, Kel!

  Kellan ducked a blow, clamped his hand on his attacker's neck, and frog-marched the guy out of the bar.

  Justin worked the room. A touch, a look in the eye, and the human was disoriented and apologizing. Within five minutes the place was empty of all except the Caines, the Wolf Pack, and Little Harry.

  Chapter Eleven

  Gabriel pulled out of his bloodlust enough to realize just what kind of danger they were in. If this weren't the right pack, there would be hell to pay. Weres and demons weren't normally allies in any sense of the word.

  The weres sauntered in, eyed the mess with no more than raised eyebrows. The first one looked solid. Pure muscle. His long chestnut hair was pulled into a plait down his back. His big yellow-gold eyes were watchful.

  Gabriel looked from him to the other two. The one on the left was taller, a bleached-blond with hair maybe an inch long and standing straight up. He was bigger than the other men, bulkier. The one on the right held very still. Younger, Gabriel thought. Not as sure of himself, but definitely strong. None of these guys were ones he'd want to fight without going demon. Still, he tensed up, ready to do what he had to do. Two more weres came in and kept watch at the back door.

  Harry struggled to his feet, still shaking glass out of his hair. "No more fighting, guys, please," he said, but the words lacked authority.

  "No fighting," agreed the one with the plait down his back. “Gabriel Caine?”

  Gabriel stepped in ahead of the others and took the hand the other man held out.

  "I’m Danny Roush of the Wolf Pack in this area. That's Sig, and Favor is over there. Josh and Garrett are by the door. You rescued my mate."

  Gabriel felt the signature energy rush from the were. "Justin Caine, and Kellan Caine. Demon and Fae kin."

  Danny raised an eyebrow. "Brothers?"

  "Family. Kellan’s a first cousin.”

  "We need some information."

  "About?"

  "Twisted. Vlad and Satine. Trouble’s growing. But you know that."

  At a glance from Gabriel, Justin straightened a table and motioned to Harry. "Stone Ale, Harry. Two pitchers. Lock the front door, if you will. And a clean rag for Gabriel's knuckles."

  Harry bristled. Gabriel strode to the bar and dropped a couple Ben Franklins onto the wood. "Please." He sent Harry a narrow smile and accepted the damp cloth from the now docile Harry. Amazing what money could do. Gabriel went back to the table, pressing the cloth against his hand. He'd enjoyed the fight, but his skin had split and both hands were bleeding.

  Sig watched as Gabriel cleaned off his knuckles, his tongue coming out to lick the corner of his mouth.

  Gabriel realized the scent of blood drew them, and he hurriedly finished. Justin took his hand, concentrated, and the bleeding stopped. A thin layer of new skin lay over the wounds. Sig sighed and sat back to watch as Harry brought two full pitchers of ale.

  Justin and Danny poured, and they all drank together. Gabriel wiped his mouth. “From what I could tell from my visit, Twisted is a sex club for deviants of all stripes."

  Gabriel continued, "Satine or Vlad has gathered J'aadt demons, an uncounted number of weres as well as the vampires. They're all a part of the club."

  Kellan spoke up. "She's put the word out, is recruiting across all fifty states. And not just vamps, either. She'll take anyone with a hint of power. Kendall Sorbis has been working with her, from what I've heard."

  Justin stared. “Thanks for mentioning that.”

  “It hadn’t come up yet.” Kellan drank down his beer.

  "The weres – at least, the wolves – aren't there voluntarily." Danny frowned down into his beer.

  “Aside from the fact the club is a piece of depravity, apparently Vlad's got something big in the works. Satine is skittish about it.” Gabriel met Danny’s skeptical gaze.

  Sig grunted. "That is not a good thing."

  Gabriel leaned forward, intent on Danny. "I'm looking to take them all out. I want to wipe out Satine, Vlad, the club, the vamps, everything. Wanna play?"

  Danny’s eyes narrowed. "You can't do it alone. You're compromised."

  Gabriel frowned. "She's taken a little of my blood. Fortunately, tribreds are no one's playthings, and she can't put me in thrall, but neither can I completely ignore her. So, yeah. Compromised. How did you know?"

  "I can smell her on you." Danny shrugged.

  "You could have freed the rest of the weres," blurted out the young one.

  “Favor.” Danny's voice went cold. “You were not to speak.”

  Gabriel turned to Favor. "Yeah. We could have. We made a hard choice this morning, to rescue only Chandra. But we didn’t know enough about
the system there. One was better than none. All of them could have gotten all of us killed.” Gabriel took a breath. “But freeing the others is in our plan."

  Sig hissed. Danny put a hand out as if to hold him back, and looked deep into Gabriel's eyes. "You are not lying."

  "No. We'd appreciate your help."

  "You’ve got it. Do you have any other information?"

  "She also has a were tiger called Chazz. Apparently he disposes of the bodies. That information is courtesy of our host, Little Harry." The weres looked to the bar, where Harry was polishing the top and pretending not to listen.

  Gabriel continued. "There were at least four more weres that I could sense the last time I was there. I don't know if they were there voluntarily or not."

  Favor stiffened. Danny put his hand on Favor's arm, clamped down tight. "Two others of my wolf pack are there that we know of. They are not there voluntarily.” Danny’s voice tightened. “This Vlad. He has caused our pack much harm. He threatens the balance in the city, threatens us all with exposure." He hesitated. "A moment, please."

  Withdrawing from the table, Sig and Favor followed Danny to the two weres by the door. They talked amongst themselves while Gabriel, Justin and Kellan finished off their beer.

  "What do you think?" Justin murmured low at Gabriel's shoulder.

  Gabriel looked thoughtfully at the group in the corner. "I think we'll make an alliance."

  "There's a first time for everything," Kellan drawled.

  Danny came back to the table, leaving the others waiting by the back door. "Thank you for the information. In return, we will give you this; Kendall Sorbis is planning on opening a portal to the Chaos Plane here in Los Angeles. He hasn't done too much so far; our snitch believes he needs a power boost. Perhaps through Satine?" Danny shrugged. "At any rate. We will be in touch. I need to discuss the best way to go about this with my pack. But you have my word. We will help." He stuck his hand out, and Gabriel took it.

  "Good. Caine Investigations, Third Street Promenade."

  "I'll be in touch within twenty-four hours. Again. Thank you. My debt to you is personal, and pack. We honor you." With a nod, and a ferocious gleam in his golden eyes, Danny left, taking his men with him.

  Harry approached the trio at the table, all the fight drained out of him. "You guys done yet?"

  "Yeah. Thanks, Harry." Gabriel dug in his pocket, peeled off a few more hundreds. He dropped them on the table and the three Caines stood. "Have a good night." They went out the front door, Gabriel the last to leave. He ducked his head back in, caught Harry greedily counting the bills.

  "Harry. I better not hear about this meeting on the street. You know what I mean?"

  Clutching the bills to his chest with one hand, Harry wiped the sweat from his forehead with the other. "Yeah, sure, Gabriel. Anything you want. You be careful out there, now."

  "You too, Harry. Call us if you need anything," he said, and shut the door behind him.

  The three Caines strolled down the streets of Venice Beach, Gabriel absently sucking on the healing knuckles of his right hand. "Well. That was illuminating."

  Justin frowned. "Sounds like Kendall Sorbis has, pardon the expression, turned to the dark side."

  The other two groaned. Gabriel elbowed Justin. "But can we trust Maggie?"

  "I don't know. I'll find out." Justin stopped at the corner. "You need to do some serious thinking, Gabriel. You were on automatic in there during the fight."

  Gabriel blinked. His first reaction was to respond with a, 'yeah, so?' but knew Justin was right. But still - "Yeah, so? It got the job done. I didn't kill anyone. What does it matter?"

  "You were damn lucky not to kill a were at Satine’s the other night, which would have made tonight's scenario a whole different movie. You were on fucking automatic pilot in there. Get back to Rose. You need her."

  "I spent hours with her," Gabriel objected. Hours that had a golden glow now in his memory. “I should be fine away from her.” He missed her. The emptiness inside him grew darker without her light.

  “But you aren’t. Maybe it doesn’t work the way we thought it did. Maybe the longer you’re around her, the quicker you lose control when you aren’t.

  Gabriel stifled a shudder. He could feel his eyes changing. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Maybe not. But your demon eyes tell me your control is shot. Go back to Rose. Go now, before you turn demon and we have to duke it out here in the streets.”

  "We just got the water, electricity and gas turned on in the homestead." Kellan grinned. "I'd really like to bunk there for the night."

  "Me, too. I just want to go home. Get some rest, clean up a bit before going to see Rose. I will see her, I promise." Mentally, he needed the separation. He didn’t like the notion that they were tied together by his soul.

  Justin sighed. "All right, fine. You guys go on home. Let's meet back at the office in the morning, ten o'clock. We'll try to get a handle on what to do next."

  "Ten o'clock," they promised, and they parted to run on swift and silent feet through the sleeping streets of Los Angeles.

  * * *

  Gabriel looked up at the home he'd grown up in, felt a bit of the peace he'd come to know as a youth. One of the last big estates still tucked deep in the San Fernando Valley, white wrought-iron gates guarded the long, narrow driveway, and the tall hedges surrounding the acreage had turned it into a haven for them all.

  He trudged up the unkempt drive, Kellan silent beside him, and noted the piles of dry leaves and pine needles, leftovers from too many years of neglect. The house sat quiet in the heat of the summer moonlight. Gideon would have a fit if he could see the general state of disrepair the gardens had fallen to. The boys used to work on the gardens every weekend while Gideon reminded them all how much Maria Therese had loved them.

  Maria Therese. Ever since Rose had mentioned speaking to his dead mother, a part of him wanted desperately to believe it. The other part simply could not. Growing up without her had left a hole inside him as big as the one that had held his soul. A part of him was always vividly aware that his birth had robbed his family of the woman who loved them all. He’d never called her Mom. He’d never call any woman Mom.

  Gabriel pushed away the old pain and breathed deeply of the scent that had always meant home, that peculiar mash of citrus grove and eucalyptus tree. Mourning doves cooed in the night as the moon slipped toward the horizon. He took a deep breath of the air he'd known from his earliest days. He'd been happy here. Whatever he'd done, whatever he'd become, he could rest in this place. Here love lingered.

  They stepped up to the wide front porch, both brothers bringing out a key. Gabriel looked at Kellan. "Gideon, right?"

  Kellan put the big, old-fashioned key into the door, pushed it open. "He said I'd always be welcome here."

  "Yeah." They both stepped in through the door, felt the subtle weave of contentment that hung in the air. "It's the same, isn't it?" Gabriel's voice rumbled through the empty house. He shut the door behind them.

  "Can you smell the incense that Aunt Maria always burned? Shit. I'm sorry dude." Kellan punched his cousin gently on the shoulder.

  "No big. Gideon used to burn it all the time. Super Hit, wasn't it? Black and silver box? I still pick up some of that, now and then."

  "Yeah. Me, too. Hey, I'm taking our old room. That okay with you?" Kellan paused at the bottom of the stair leading to the second floor.

  "Yeah. Whatever. See you in the morning."

  Kellan headed up the stairs.

  Gabriel wandered through the downstairs rooms, memories filling him as he moved through time. He and Kellan had been a team. The older boys had a hard time with him, as they'd lost their mother because of Gabriel. Fists had flown more than once, usually in the orchards, with Kellan protecting the baby against his brothers. He'd taught Gabriel how to fight, too, and when to turn away.

  The solid wood kitchen table still stood. How many times had they arm-wrestl
ed there? How many times had they gathered around that table for a family conference? Gideon's carved armchair held pride of place at the head of the table. Gabriel could almost see him there and his heart hitched. He moved out of the kitchen, some memories too painful.

  He walked into the hearth room, all the furniture sheeted and ghostly in the night. The long table where they'd done homework had been pushed into a corner. He noted the firewood stacked in the built-in box by the fireplace and, drawn toward it, knelt and built a fire more for the comfort than the warmth. Lifting a flowered sheet off one of the sofas in the living room, he settled there and stared into the flames.

  Once they got this situation taken care of, he'd be gone. Setting his mind against the pang of loneliness, he closed his eyes and breathed in the atmosphere of home. He looked forward to bringing her here. Rose. She’ll love the place.

  He mulled over the thought of Rose and his mother, speaking together in the netherworld. It had rolled through his brain constantly and while he couldn't allow himself to believe it, it made Rose even more precious in his mind.

  She was so… Rose. That afternoon had been a revelation. Watching the delight fill her as they ate burgers. How she’d laughed at him in the clothing store. The quiet yearning that he’d felt when she leaned against him, caught in the beauty of the sunset.

  Gabriel watched the flames. Running wasn’t the answer. He’d learned that the hard way. But if he stayed, could he handle the fallout?

  He could watch the sunlight in her hair for hours. Her top lip was just a bit fuller than the lower one, and she nibbled on it when she got nervous. She was irritating and sexy and sweet and stubborn and he'd never get over the richness of her kisses. The longer he stayed, the harder it would be to forget her.

  Killer, he reminded himself harshly. He destroyed that which he loved, or that which loved him. His mother. Marianne. He was a killer. Always had been, always would be. It was in his blood, in his very nature, and not something that could be scrubbed out of him.

  He didn't think he'd survive destroying Rose.

  Grunting, he threw his arm over his eyes. He'd spent enough sleepless nights to know this would be another one. His mind might not get any rest, but his body would, if he could just keep himself still enough. He needed to know he could stay away a little longer, keep his demon controlled without her for just a few more hours.