“And the winner gets to watch him burn,” Syn said, as the warm yellow snake attacked its prey.
23
“I have blood for him from Bronwyn,” Lycos said, his voice muffled through the door.
“He won’t take it,” Phane returned. “He won’t sustain himself at all.”
“He won’t do anything that is remotely sensible,” Helo added with a frustrated growl. “He can’t remain still. He’s either working with Gray and the Impures or within one of the Romans’ companies. The only one he will truly talk to is that dog he brought back from his castle, and, of course, the boy.” He sighed. “Perhaps we should take him back to France. Let him try the portal again.”
“It’s no use,” Phane replied. “He remained there for two days, clawing the ground, using his mind, his blood, his demon to try to contact her, and nothing happened.” Phane sniffed. “He needs to forget.”
“What he needs is to stop barking at everyone,” Lycos said with frustration. “Acting like a total asshole . . .”
The mutore’s words died out, and Erion was thankful for whatever had caused it. His brothers had been hovering outside the door of his weapons hold for more than an hour now. After stocking the Impure credenti with more weaponry last night, Erion had wanted to make sure both the Romans’ home and the Beasts’ had been replenished. The interruption was not a welcome one.
The door clicked open behind him, and he whirled around and growled. So did Mongrel, although the small dog remained in the plush bed the Roman brothers had purchased for him. Such iron balls they had to walk in here without his say-so, Erion mused darkly. Why couldn’t they back off? Why couldn’t they understand that he wanted nothing and no one to interfere—
But it wasn’t his mutore brothers who stepped inside and walked over to his table laden with swords and daggers, but Nicholas’s mate and Ladd.
Erion grew momentarily confused. “Am I late? I thought we were seeing the movie at seven.”
Kate nodded. “We are. We wanted to talk to you.”
Erion’s skin prickled with tension. He’d heard that phrase a hundred times in the past week, and each time he did, he walked away from the one saying it. But he couldn’t do that to Ladd. He would never do that to Ladd. The balas meant everything to him. In fact, he was the one bright, shining glimmer of light in Erion’s black hole of an existence.
As Mongrel began to snore at his feet, Erion held tight and waited for one of them to speak. To his emotional ruin, it was Ladd. The balas stepped forward and eyed the weapons, then lifted his sweet, honest gaze to Erion.
“You miss Hellen?”
Erion’s frown deepened, as did the pain in his chest. Just hearing her name gutted him. But he managed to utter a quick, “I do.”
Ladd smiled softly. “She is very strong. Like you. And very sad.” His eyes locked with Erion’s. “Like you.”
“I’m sure she is coping well enough,” Erion said, gripping the table. After all, she was the one who had sent him away, cut him out of her life—
“No,” Ladd said, interrupting Erion’s thoughts. “She’s not coping. She cries all the time.”
Something moved inside Erion, scratched at his mind. “How would you know that?”
The boy licked his lips. “I saw her.”
“What?”
“Just two times.” He shrugged. “I didn’t even think it would work. Levia and Polly told me the game only works in the Underworld. But I wanted to try. I wanted to see if I could . . . see her again.”
His muscles growing tense beneath his skin, Erion glanced up at Kate. “What is he saying?”
Kate released a breath and came to stand beside the boy. She put her hand on his shoulder. “It seems that along with charades and how to conjure puppies, Levia and Polly also taught him how to astral project.”
Erion stared at the veana. “I have no idea what that is.”
“It’s a game,” Ladd began, his eyes lifting to meet Erion’s, “a flying game that Hellen and Levia and Polly played when they were my age.” He swallowed and bit his lip. “Levia taught me how to concentrate, make my body quiet so my mind could float away. I wasn’t very good at it, and Levia and Polly were really strict about where I could go. I managed it only a few times.” He looked sheepish. “The first was seeing Hellen walking in the hall. It was so cool. A few minutes later, I woke up, and there she was, looking at me through the glass.” He grinned. “I think I scared her a little.”
It was like trying to take in an entire novel in one breath. Completely stunned, not sure if he believed what the boy was saying and why it would be relevant now, Erion once again looked to Kate for answers.
She gave him a pitying look. “It seems our balas here has managed to project himself into Hell.” She smoothed the boy’s hair lovingly. “He has seen your female.”
Erion’s guts twisted. He didn’t know what to think or believe, but the tiny fleck of hope that still hovered near his heart blossomed. He dropped to his knees before Ladd and said gently, “You’ve really seen her? You’ve seen Hellen?”
The boy nodded. “And she is very sad. Sadder than you.”
“Ladd . . .”
“You’ve got to go to her.”
“I can’t get back to the Underworld. Whatever it is you’ve done won’t open the portal. I’ve tried everything.”
“Not everything.” Ladd smiled with adorable wickedness. “So far I’ve just watched her hunting in the Rain Fields, but I think I can do more.” His grin widened. “I think I know how we can get back home.”
“We?” Erion repeated. His eyes lifted, but not to Ladd. Kate stood there, her eyes swimming in tears, her mouth turned up into a sad but understanding smile.
“He felt it when he was in the Underworld, Erion,” she said softly. “He knew something was different about it and about himself.”
Dread filled him. “No . . . Kate, it wasn’t supposed to be like this.”
“He knew he was demon,” she said, her eyes imploring him. “And that led to more questions . . . Oh, Erion, I’m sorry. It should’ve been you who told him the truth. But I can’t explain how I felt in that moment. I wanted to deny it, wanted to pretend he belonged to me and only me . . .”
Ladd ran to the veana and wrapped his arms around her. “Don’t cry, Kate,” he told her gently. “I do belong to you. And to Uncle Nicky.”
“But you are demon,” she said, her gaze lifting. “You are Erion’s little demon.”
Oh, gods, Erion thought, his lungs tight. The balas knew. He knew his true father, where his life had begun. Fear tore at his insides. He was glad his son knew the truth, but what did Ladd feel?
Erion’s gaze moved achingly slowly toward the boy. What would he see there? Sadness? Rejection? Need? Hope?
Ladd was holding Kate’s hand, but his eyes connected instantly with Erion’s. His smile was bright and wide—and happy. “When I was in the Underworld, even with Hellen’s mean father, I knew I belonged there. And I knew you did too.”
Relief poured through Erion. He loved that Ladd embraced his demon side and saw it in Erion too.
Breaking from Kate, Ladd came toward him. “I brought Kate home to Uncle Nicky. It’s where she belongs.”
The boy’s words concerned him. “You can belong here too,” Erion said quickly. “They love you.”
For the first time since Ladd had entered the hold, he frowned and his eyes grew heartbreakingly sad. “Don’t you love me?”
Erion couldn’t stand it any longer. He broke from the table and rushed at his son. He was on his knees, holding Ladd’s shoulders. “Of course I do. I love you more than anything.”
“Then we can go,” Ladd said, “back where we both belong.”
His chest felt tight. “Even if this plan of yours works, I can’t take you away from them.”
“You’re not. It
’s no different from us living in their castle in France or yours, or living at the warehouse here in New York. We’re all a flash away.”
Erion pulled Ladd into his arms again. “I don’t see how this can be done.”
“I’ll show you, Dad. I’ll show you her.”
As Erion’s mind swelled with hope and possibility, his gaze drifted up to the veana who had been a mother to his balas, the veana who was now holding Mongrel in her arms. Clinging to Ladd, Erion waited, his eyes filled with love and respect and gratitude.
Kate stared down at the two of them, her eyes bright with tears as she stroked the small dog’s fur. “Take him home, Erion. Take your son home.”
• • •
The rogue crackled and exploded in a blink of blue fire. Hellen stood there, rain soaking her boots, and panted, waiting for the once-familiar thrill of hunting and destroying to come over her. But after a few moments, she knew it wasn’t going to happen.
It hadn’t happened since the day she’d hunted with Erion.
She wondered if it would ever happen again.
“I believe I am quite a decent shot.” Polly approached, her bow at her side.
After many years of trying to get her sister to come on a hunt, the female had finally agreed. Though, Hellen mused, Polly had refused to wear anything other than a gown when she did. It was no surprise that the prim female had ruined three gowns already. Water and ash, mud and the guts of demon rogues. Those were stains that didn’t come out easily.
“You have destroyed ten rogues today, and I must be content with one.” Hellen forced a smile. It was better that way. Everyone in the Underworld knew she was mourning the loss of her male, and had taken to asking after her feelings far too often.
“It’s too bad Levia isn’t joining us, but the fireflower garden has become her obsession these days.” Polly placed another arrow in her bow. “The demon who falls in love with her had better be an amateur botanist.”
Hellen laughed, but it was a tinny sound. “I would like to see you both have mates who care for you—mates of your own choosing.”
“And you.” Polly met her gaze with a curious lift of her brow. “You will let go of your memories in time. Won’t you? There are many fine demon males who would be on their knees if you claimed yourself ready for a suitor.”
Hellen turned away. She didn’t want to even entertain such a thought. Memories were the only things keeping her sane. Memories and the fireflower she kept beside her bed. Now if she could just find something to ease the pain. It ran through her blood every second of every day, never letting up. She wondered how Erion was faring. He had her blood inside him. Did it make him miss her more—want her more?
“Ha!”
Polly’s exclamation had her looking up. “What is it?”
“That rogue over there. It’s been toying with me for the past hour.” She started after it, her gown swishing against the rainwater on the ground.
“We’ll take it on together. Shall we?” Hellen called, nocking an arrow as she followed.
Polly grunted. “I think we may need to.”
But for some strange reason, the rogue didn’t attempt to hide from them. In fact, it remained out in the open, near a large white cloud.
“Seems almost friendly now,” Polly said, sounding surprised even as she drew back her bow. “This should be a quick kill. Number eleven, and in a gown and pantalets, no less. I’m quite impressive. Don’t you think?”
Hellen didn’t answer. As she stared at the shock of blue light, her heart stuttered and she lowered her bow. Something wasn’t right. She drew closer. The rogue demon didn’t cackle, didn’t spit. In fact, Polly was right—it seemed friendly. It seemed . . . She stared hard. Was that a face within the light?
Was that—
“Wait!” Hellen cried out. “Polly, lower your bow. Now!”
Her sister stumbled sideways into a cloud that was pouring down rain. “What? What’s wrong?”
Hellen drew even closer, her mouth parted in shock. “That’s not a rogue.” She wasn’t sure what she was saying, what else it could be.
“Looks like one to me,” Polly said, wringing out the bottom of her dress, then picking up her bow again. “Come on, I really want it—”
“Hellen? Can you hear me?”
Both females gasped at the soft call that came from the rogue.
“Do rogues speak?” Polly asked nervously.
“No.” Hellen moved even closer, was about a foot away when it spoke again.
“Open the portal, Hellen.”
Shit. Her heart jumped to her throat and she dropped her bow onto the soaking ground. No. This wasn’t possible. The demon rogue was playing with her. Perhaps she hadn’t known what they were capable of. Perhaps this was payback for all the times she’d taken out their kind.
“Hellen,” he said again. “Will you let us in?”
That voice, Hellen thought, her mind scrambling for answers, for a clue as to what was happening before her. That voice. She knew it. Who is it? Young and male and—
Her head shot up. “Ladd?”
There was a squeal from the rogue, and then, “She understands, Dad. I can’t hear her, but I can see her. She looks like she knows. I think she said my name.”
Amazement washed over Hellen. She didn’t know how this was possible, didn’t know if she had gone insane or maybe if she was dreaming. But whatever it was, it was incredible and wonderful. She could hear Ladd, and he had called Erion Dad.
“If you can hear me, Hellen,” Ladd was saying, as Polly stood stock-still at her side, gaping at what they were witnessing, “Kate and Nicky understand that Dad and I belong there in the Underworld. They want us to be together. And we want to be there with you.”
“He’s projecting,” Polly whispered. “He’s done it. I can’t wait to tell Levia. Oh, Hellen . . .”
But Hellen couldn’t speak. She was too shocked, too amazed.
“We’re waiting at the grave,” Ladd continued. “Open the portal. Please don’t keep us out anymore. We want to come home.”
Without another word, Hellen turned around and ran.
“Hellen! Wait!” Polly called after her. “Okay . . . Well, bring Ladd to me. Tell him I missed him. Tell him we can project again, perhaps to Levia’s new garden. Tell him I’ll summon the puppies—”
It was all she heard. She was out of the Rain Fields now and racing up the incline toward the rock. Happiness surged through her, and she prayed this wasn’t a trick or something her mind had conjured to care for her injured heart. Ladd was coming. Erion was coming.
As she neared the rock, she drew on her power. It came sharp and quick, and the instant she was inside, she sent it out in a brilliant burst of green hellfire. Seconds ticked by, her mind raced, her thoughts were hungry and hopeful, and then she felt them, both of them. They were dropping, falling, and in one quaking breath, they both stood before her.
One small and happy and grinning.
One tall and massive and pissed off.
“You are in so much trouble, demon girl.”
24
“How does everything look? Is she all right? Is the balas well?”
Dr. Leza Franz removed her gloves as she walked away from the bed and deposited them in the trash. “Easy, Alexander. They are both very healthy.”
“You’re sure?” Alex pressed, following the veana as she collected her bag. “I know my mate has told you of my fears regarding this child, so if you are trying to spare me—”
She turned to face him, gave him a very stern look. “Sara is in far better health, both mentally and physically, than you. Especially mentally.”
He growled playfully at her.
“Now back up and let me leave,” she said. “Call me if you need anything, Sara.”
“I will. Thank you, Leza.”
When the doctor left the room, Alexander turned and gave his mate, her brother, and Celestine a rare smile. They all huddled around Sara in the bed. He had been a terrified paven—so worried he’d be a failure as a father, he hadn’t even wanted to try. But now, as his female’s belly grew and he felt his balas move within her, he couldn’t wait. Lucian’s child and his would grow up together, a chance he and his brothers hadn’t had the luck to experience.
“Alex?”
Cellie was watching him, waiting for him to give her the sign that it was all right to talk with her daughter, tell both Sara and Gray the truth. The complete truth.
He nodded.
“What’s going on?” Sara asked warily. “Are you planning something? You guys know I don’t get into surprises. They freak me out.”
“Whatever it is would be a surprise to me too,” Gray chimed in, seated beside his sister on the bed. “I have no idea what’s up between them.”
Sara and Gray both turned to look at Cellie, who appeared pale and worried but resolute in her desire to come clean.
“Do you both recall the conversation we had outside this house?” she began, her gaze moving from one to the other. “The conversation about your father, your true bloodline?”
“Yes,” Gray said, looking slightly uncomfortable. “Not one of my all-time favorite memories.”
“No,” Cellie remarked. “Mine either.”
Sitting up against her pillows, Sara coaxed the veana along. “Mom, what’s going on? Did something happen?”
“Oh, my dears.” Her voice cracked, and she quickly cleared her throat. “Something I never thought I would ever have to tell you. Shouldn’t have had to tell you.”
Gray cursed. “There’s more. Isn’t there?”
“Gray . . .” she started.
“I knew it. I knew that wasn’t everything.”
Stop acting like a whiny child. You’re the leader of Impure Resistance, for fuck’s sake.
Alexander had said the words in his mind, knowing Gray could hear every word. The Impure male caught his gaze and snarled at him.
Eternal Demon: Mark of the Vampire Page 27