Demon Marked

by Meljean Brook

  Or two, depending on how long it took the dog to slip out of the door. She left Nicholas on the bed, still aroused and his heart pounding. Hers pounding, too, so hot and thick that it seemed to echo in her ears. The dog sat in front of the door, tail wagging. She opened it and he merely looked up at her, giving her a doggy grin.

  Cute, but she was standing there naked and the cold was seeping into her skin. “Out,” she said. “Do your business. I’ll let you back in. I promise.”

  He shook his head, flapping his ears wildly. Hope lifted when he rose to all fours, but he only snuffled at the edge of the doorway before padding back around to the middle of the room. The bed creaked, and she heard Nicholas coming to the door of the bedroom.

  She looked at the dog. “I’m only going to have it open for a second longer. Then you have to hold it.”

  He chuffed at her.

  Shaking her head, she turned back to close it—and stopped. Her boomstick should have been on that rack next to the door. It wasn’t.

  Neither was Nicholas’s rifle, and the holsters that hung there were empty. Sudden dread filled her stomach, her heart began beating sickly thuds. And the rhythm of Nicholas’s had changed, too . . . and there were still the echoes, but they were beating at a different time.

  “Ash.” Behind her, Nicholas’s voice filled with a cold that she’d never heard before—the ice of fear. “Don’t look around. Just run. Go. As fast as you can.”

  And leave him? She couldn’t. She looked around, and her blood turned to ice water.

  It wasn’t a dog anymore. Standing as tall as the ceiling, it had three massive heads, jaws filled with gleaming dagger-teeth. Its eyes glowed, not steady crimson like hers, but flickering as if lit by the fires of Hell. Short fur as stiff as needles poked between crimson and black scales. She couldn’t see Nicholas beyond its enormous body, but the monstrous creature was watching them, each of them to one set of eyes, and the third . . . was watching the door.

  Pressing her back to the wall, she kept her eyes on the monster, let her fingers search for a weapon. A chair, a curtain rod, anything.

  The head watching her growled, a long deep rumble. She froze.

  “Nicholas?”

  She heard the low noise he made, despair in the back of his throat. “Go. I’ll distract it, keep it here. You have to go now or you won’t have a chance. It’s a hellhound. One bite can paralyze you.”

  It had already bitten her once. Apparently, she’d been lucky. Damn lucky. Ash eyed the size of its jaws. “One bite could kill either of us.”

  The hellhound chuffed, but this time it was a deep bellow, from a chest as wide as a truck. She could almost taste the amusement behind it—

  No. She could taste it. A little odd, but in the same way she sensed emotions in people.

  “It’s laughing,” she realized.

  “Ash. Go.”

  Not without him—but it was too late anyway. She heard a light thud from outside, followed by a second. A flutter, a flap. The sound of wings.

  Feathered wings.

  Her chest tightened. “Nicholas. The Guardians are here.”

  For a moment, there was only silence. Then a footstep from the porch seemed to break it, and Nicholas roared her name. The hellhound’s heads swung around. Ash’s heart stopped.

  Nicholas was attacking the thing. Trying to get to her. Oh, God.

  She sprinted forward, and though Nicholas’s heart was between beats, she saw that the hellhound reacted just as quickly, that he’d already noticed her coming around and so she shouted, “I’m just protecting him!” before sliding beneath those enormous gaping jaws, across the floorboards and up. Nicholas seemed frozen, his expression contorted by fury and determination, and he’d found the only stabbing weapon the hellhound hadn’t taken: the heel of her boot. Clenched in his raised fist, he was trying to protect her, but this would only hurt him, and if she didn’t slow down, she’d hit him while going too fast and hurt him, too. She slowed, and caught his wrist as he stabbed down. She hadn’t slowed enough. As her body hit his and they went flying, Ash managed to react, to twist, and take the impact.

  She slammed back into the wall next to the bedroom door, holding on to him. It took him only a blink to realize what had happened, and then his arms were around her, shoving her behind him and putting himself between the hellhound and her.

  Between the Guardians and her.

  Ash slipped her hands around Nicholas’s waist, ready to carry him away. She looked over his shoulder as the footsteps came nearer, as the resonance of their steps against the wood changed when they crossed from the porch into the cabin. “I hear two,” she whispered. “One with heels.”

  The hellhound gave a happy chuff, an unmistakable sound of greeting. His giant, slithering tail wagged. A woman answered him.

  “Such a good boy. I love it when you look so mean. But you’re taking up all of the room. Hugh can’t even fit in here with me.”

  With a noise like a sigh, the hellhound suddenly diminished—looking almost like a Labrador again, but twice as big, and still with three heads—and revealing the man and woman standing near the door.

  Tall, with a long black wool coat that buttoned to her throat, and a tangle of long dark hair, the woman regarded them with arched brows and a sharp amusement. The man gave less away, but Ash couldn’t miss the calluses on his hands, the bulk of his shoulders. A man who had his own obsessions, was driven by some deep purpose.

  That purpose was to kill her, Ash supposed.

  “Just turn around,” Nicholas said. His arms came back and his palms flattened against the wall on either side of her, as if to protect her from every side. “She’s not like most demons. She’s not evil.”

  The woman smiled and came farther inside. The man—Hugh, she’d called him—shut the cabin door.

  “Different, yes. I know better than anyone,” she said, her gaze narrowing on Ash’s face. “You are new.”

  Easier to kill, Ash thought.

  “And those symbols . . . Taylor was right. Those aren’t for the transformation. They’re a spell to create a new Gate. Fuck.”

  Ash trembled. A spell. The demon who’d attacked her in Duluth had said something similar, and there was a memory there, something she needed to know, but she couldn’t trace it now.

  The woman turned to look at Hugh, who seemed to shake his head without moving at all. She focused on Ash again. “I see you’re all naked and cozy here, shacked up in the middle of nowhere, but unless the demon you’re bound to is dead, you’re not safe. Nobody will be safe if Lucifer opens that Gate. So you need to come with us.”

  Okay, that was easy. “We’re safe then,” Ash said, and since she didn’t have a bargain with these Guardians, had no problem telling them, “The demon is dead.”

  Hugh spoke. “Lie.”

  She felt Nicholas’s tension increase. The woman looked to him and grinned.

  “You know what he is, don’t you? He had a Gift to see the truth for eight hundred years, and he can still see it. So don’t even try to lie.” She glanced at Ash. “Or try, if you want. It’s a lot more fun that way.”

  “Or maybe he’ll lie even when he hears the truth,” Nicholas said. “How can we know?”

  “That’s your first thought? Your mother really fucked you up, didn’t she?” The woman studied him for a long moment. “He won’t lie, not when he’s here to see the truth. And not when I depend on him to tell me when you’re lying.”

  “If he sees it, then he knows I told the truth when I said she wasn’t like other demons,” Nicholas said.

  “Well, I don’t need Hugh to tell me that. It’s written all over her face . . . and from the little I can see, it’s also written all over the rest of her. Lucifer named you Ash, is that right? Because after you sacrificed yourself to save St. Croix’s life, you’re not Rachel Boyle anymore.”

  CHAPTER 14

  Through his own shock, the immediate denial, Nicholas felt Ash tense behind him.

  “I
’m not Rachel.”

  “Not anymore,” the woman agreed, but her gaze moved between them, and Nicholas could almost see her calculating, weighing. “You don’t know. Neither of you know.”

  “We know she’s not Rachel,” Nicholas said.

  The woman’s eyes flattened. “No, because Lucifer stripped most of Rachel out of her. Didn’t he? Not everything, because she’s talking, and I’m guessing she didn’t have to relearn her ABCs, but the rest is gone, isn’t it? Relationships, emotional connections, and the deeper they were the harder he dug. Then he ripped them right out, and took everything that made Rachel Rachel with it. And he made you with what was left.”

  Ash made a soft noise—of pain, of terror. The sound tore at his heart. Nicholas spun, caught her in his arms.

  Behind him, the woman continued speaking. “You might not remember all of that, because it was Rachel who’d have made the decision. She’s the one who’d have agreed to the transformation, the bargain. But you . . . you’re the one who is stuck with it. The one with the spell on your face and the fate of the world on your shoulders.”

  Ash began to shake. Almost convulsing, her teeth rattling. Tears stood in her eyes. “I remember. I remember him tearing me apart.”

  Jesus. Nicholas wanted to rip the woman’s tongue out. Couldn’t she see what this was doing to Ash? Was this what the Guardians did? Fuck them. Fuck them all.

  “What the fuck are you doing? What kind of Guardians are you? Just get out. Get the hell out.”

  “We’re not Guardians. Or rather, Hugh isn’t anymore. He used to be. But me, I used to be a halfling like her.”

  Ash’s breath caught. “A halfling.”

  “We start out human, but are given the powers of a demon. Lucifer didn’t take as much from me. Just my name. Now I’m Lilith. Even though I’m human again now, I’m still Lilith.”

  “Human again,” Nicholas repeated, looking into Ash’s eyes. “How?”

  “Lucifer did that, too.”

  Her footsteps indicated her approach. Nicholas half turned, trying to shield Ash with his body, trying to make certain he could watch for any attack.

  “So you see why we sent Sir Pup in here first to determine exactly what sort of demon she was and to take your weapons. It would have been a shame if Ash had shot either one of us. That would be breaking the Rules.”

  And that meant Nicholas couldn’t use the Rules to his advantage, either. Fuck.

  “I heard wings,” Ash said.

  “We needed a ride.” Lilith looked up, as if through the roof. “Now they’re up there, a full phalanx. Waiting. Because that spell on your face means that you are a danger to everyone. Ideally, we’d hide you in Caelum, but a demon—even a halfling—can’t be teleported to that realm. So we’ll take you to Special Investigations, where we can protect you until we hunt down the demon who holds your leash. Your choice is simple: Either you leave with us, or you don’t leave this cabin alive.”

  Fury slammed through him. “Fuck you. You aren’t touching her.”

  “I prefer not to slay her. But understand this, Nicholas St. Croix: I’m willing to sacrifice one to save the lives of many. That sacrifice won’t be necessary, though, if she agrees to protection, so that the spell can’t be cast.”

  “I’ll protect her.”

  “You?” Lilith laughed. “I have a report that says a demon in Duluth almost ripped her apart while you waved a crossbow around. You didn’t even know who or what she was. A woman died for you, and yet when she returns from the dead as a demon, you don’t even question where she came from?”

  “He did.” Ash’s fingernails dug into his biceps, her eyes glowing. Suddenly fierce, defensive. “He was trying to help me find out who I am.”

  “Was he? It’s strange, though. That doesn’t fit what I know of him at all. Raised by a demon, bent on revenge.” Her head tilted as she studied him. “When you first met her, what did you think? That she was Madelyn, come to taunt you in Rachel’s form? Or maybe a demon who’d been plotting with Madelyn.”

  Jesus. Whoever her sources were, they’d informed her well. But that was no secret. Even Ash knew that. “Yes.”

  “And then you intended to kill her.”

  His heart thudded. He felt Ash’s fingers tighten, then her soft laugh. “No, he didn’t. I was too useful to him.”

  Lilith’s eyes narrowed. “Is that true, Nicholas? Say it.”

  God. What did it matter? “That was then,” he said.

  “So you did intend to.”

  Fuck. “Yes.”

  “Truth,” Hugh said.

  Ash’s breath stopped. Obviously shaken, she looked up at him.

  Nicholas shook his head. “I wouldn’t now. I’d die before hurting you now.”

  No pronouncement of truth came. Somehow, the silence seemed damning. He touched Ash’s face, her hair.

  “Not anymore,” he said, and didn’t look away until she nodded. He turned fierce eyes on Lilith. “What the fuck?”

  Her brows lifted. “I’m just trying to make sense of this. You didn’t know she was Rachel, but you offered to help her. But Ash says that it’s because she was useful. Useful for what? She doesn’t know anything, either.”

  “I didn’t know that.”

  Lilith looked at Ash. “You lied to him? There’s hope for you, then.”

  “She didn’t lie,” Nicholas said. “And I was using her to find Madelyn.”

  “Truth.”

  “Madelyn,” Lilith repeated. “Funny. You want to protect her, but you put her in the path of the demon who’s most likely the one she’s bound to obey. The demon who most likely intends to kill her in order to complete that spell.”

  Ash began shaking again. “Bound to her?”

  “Yes.” Lilith stepped closer, her voice softening. “I think you remember this, too—because Lucifer would need you to. Or Madelyn would have told you after the transformation. Did she bring you out of Hell? Was she the first person you remember?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you’re terrified of her now.”

  “Yes.” She pushed her face against Nicholas’s shoulder. Chest aching, he slid his hand into her hair, held her to him. “Yes.”

  “Because a part of you knows that if she speaks, you must obey. Any order she gives, you must carry through, or you’ll break your bargain with her . . . and return to the frozen field.”

  Ash cried out, and he felt tears against his skin. Hot, burning, but he remembered her fear of the cold, her terror of the memory that was lost to it. Now he knew. She’d been down there, suffering. Tormented in ice, eaten by dragons. And even though she couldn’t remember it, she carried that frozen field within her.

  “Stop,” he said hoarsely. “Stop what you’re doing to her.”

  Lilith’s gaze hardened when she looked at him. “That was Rachel, you realize. She and Madelyn probably had some kind of bargain. Don’t interfere between me and my son, something simple like that. Something she probably agreed to, not understanding exactly what it meant. Then she saved your life, and paid for it—with death, and then with torture.”

  And that was enough. He didn’t know what this woman was doing, but she wasn’t helping Ash or protecting her in any way. And trying to use Rachel to guilt him into giving Ash over to Guardians who’d promised to kill her if her existence proved too dangerous wouldn’t work. He wasn’t a Guardian. And he’d see the whole fucking world burn before he sacrificed her life for anyone else’s.

  “Lucifer took your powers,” he said. “But you’re still a demon.”

  “Truth,” Hugh said, this time with a hint of a smile.

  Lilith’s brows shot up. “And you’ve never been transformed, but you might as well be one, too. You brought Ash here, knowing that Madelyn would find you.”

  “You’re throwing shit out there. You don’t know that.”

  “But I think I do. Because there are a few other things that simply don’t make sense. One is Cawthorne’s suicide only a week aft
er Ash left Nightingale House. Strange, don’t you think, that someone entered Madelyn’s code into her town house security system that same night?”

  Ash lifted her head. “Cawthorne killed himself?”

  “Nicholas didn’t tell you? He knew. His private investigator told him the same day you arrived in America.” Lilith caught his look and grinned. “You’d be amazed at how good some vampires are at hacking computer and phone systems. And you knew that Madelyn was probably looking for her, didn’t you?”

  “I knew it was possible.”

  “You counted on it. That’s what made her so useful. And then there’s the matter of the two demons running around with Rachel’s face—one of them a ghost. That didn’t make any sense, either, not at first. Not until I thought about Madelyn, and what I know of demons, and how she’d tried to get her hands on Ash.”

  “A ghost?” Ash’s brow furrowed in confusion. “What ghost? Rachel’s a ghost, too?”

  “Oh, Nicholas. You didn’t tell her that, either? Considering that they’re her parents, don’t you think she deserved to know?”

  God. And he suddenly knew: Lilith had said that she didn’t want to kill Ash, but that she’d sacrifice one to save many. And she was. But she didn’t plan to sacrifice Ash.

  In order to persuade Ash to come with her, she was sacrificing Nicholas.

  “Nicholas?” Ash looked up at him, her expression a mixture of wariness and confusion. “What do I deserve to know?”

  He couldn’t answer, not yet. Tightening his arms around her, he desperately tried to think of some way to put it that wasn’t damning.

  There wasn’t one. It was damning. And it was true.

  “A demon took Rachel’s face and goaded Steve Johnson into killing her parents.”

  Horror climbed into her expression. Not anger at him. Not yet. “A demon? The one who attacked us in Duluth?”

  He picked his words carefully. “I don’t know—”

  “Lie.”

  Nicholas ground his teeth, faced the man. “I don’t know for certain!”

  “Who?” Ash’s voice brought him back to her. “Who?”

  He’d never wanted to lie so badly. He couldn’t. Not now—and not because Hugh was listening. He simply couldn’t look into her eyes and pretend he didn’t know. “Madelyn. Madelyn killed them.”