“Use your telekinesis.”
I wrinkle my nose. “All right, but if end up plucking one of my eyes out or stabbing you, I’ll take no responsibility.”
His lips flicker. “Duly noted.”
I take a deep breath and make a beckoning movement with my hand, focusing on that invisible energy. The daggers fly violently towards me, but I manage to grab the hilts.
Phew!
“Good, now send your power through them and attack me,” Nox commands.
I lick my lips nervously. “What if I can’t control my power?”
He shrugs one shoulder. “I can manage it, but you can control it.”
I nod, not very certain, but fall in a fighting stance. Nox stands there in his usual all-black outfit of boots, jeans, and distracting T-shirt. Weaponless.
I don’t wait for him to give me the go signal; he gives me a small approving smile as I attack. He’s even more skilled than Bryce, and I know he’s holding back most of his strength. To my surprise, he is blocking attacks instead of just avoiding me with ease. His maddeningly alluring aura doesn’t allow me to reach the same point of automatic defense I used with Bryce. I have to rely on my skill, which is good.
He patiently shows me moves that will allow me to balance my still not fully recovered strength and gets closer than usual. The heat of his body sends my heart into a crazy cadence, and I can’t help but wonder how he’s so hot. Shouldn’t demons be cold?
“I think it’s vampires you’re thinking of again, and they aren’t cold either, it’s a myth,” Nox says, his voice rumbling against my back. One of his hands is holding my right wrist, the other showing me the best grip to stab him and escape.
I groan. “Don’t read my mind, that’s rude!”
He chuckles, eliciting small shivers down my spine. “I’m not doing it on purpose. Sometimes you mutter your thoughts under your breath. And other times, you practically scream your thoughts at me.”
“Dammit,” I grumble.
I spin on his grip, an escape move he taught me himself, and aim my knee to his solar plexus. He allows just a hint of contact but doesn’t let go. My chest bumps against his and he blocks my other hand as I aim to stab his shoulder.
“What did you do wrong?” he asks.
“Letting you catch me,” I say reluctantly.
He leans forward to demonstrate how easily he could headbutt me. Our breaths mingle and I forget what I’m doing. It’s incredibly satisfying to see him swallow hard. He releases me and takes a step back.
“Again,” he commands.
I lunge towards him.
* * *
I’m not sure how many hours I’ve spent looking at the screen of my laptop. Truth is that along with power and strength, I’ve gotten an even better comprehension of coding. But my reluctance to create something that—while useful to people with divergent brains—is not nearly as important as my previous project is driving me nuts.
I lean back against the bed, closing my eyes. My brain feels heavy and mushy.
My phone buzzes, a text from Spence. He’s asking me to go to meet him for breakfast at our favorite café.
I blink and examine the soft light permeating the white drapes. So I’ve been working for fourteen hours. I yawn, feeling exhausted but eager to see Spence. My butt is numb and my neck cracks a bit as I stretch. I close the laptop and change into something presentable, washing my face and deciding there’s not much I can do about my chaotic hair and slightly puffy eyes.
The hall is quiet as I exit, and I realize I’m still alone. Bryce is probably waking up beside Derek in his loft, and Isir hasn’t returned from work just yet. I bite my lip, thinking about calling Nox but deciding against it. Really, how dangerous can it be to go meet my friend at our favorite café? And Nox has an important job to do.
I feel much better as the cool morning air hits me when I step outside of the building. The streets are a buzz of activity despite the hour, everyone in a hurry as usual. I decide to ask Nox to begin with the portalling lessons, at least the theory, I hate traffic and the subway.
I’m yawning rather violently and dragging my feet as I walk inside the café. The wonderful smells of cocoa, fresh cinnamon rolls, and hot coffee envelop me as I open the door. I groan as I see the queue, but I immediately shake off the weariness as I see Lisa buying a large black coffee. She spots me as she turns toward the exit, hazel eyes widening. I smile and give a small wave, feeling stupid. Lisa’s got a new piercing on her left eyebrow, I notice. Her smile is as pretty as always, and once more I realize I’ve been an idiot.
“Hey, long time no see,” she says, standing beside me. Aside from the new piercing, she looks just like I remember; maybe I’m trying to see a change in others because I’ve changed so much myself.
“Been terribly busy,” I admit. “Wanna sit and chat for a bit?”
She bites her lip. “I’d like to, but I’ve got a class in twenty minutes. Raincheck?”
I give her a small smile, she’s not brushing me off. “Sure. take care.”
“You too, Dinah,” she moves to leave but then gives me a once over. “You look great by the way.”
A light blush covers my cheeks. “So do you,” I say with a smile I hope is not awkward.
Lisa waves goodbye, and I imitate her. I move one place up in the queue and cover my mouth as I yawn. Instead of the double espresso I need, I get hot cocoa, feeling wonderfully childish as I order extra marshmallows. I’m half asleep as I sip slowly and play with the white sweets. My stomach feels strange. Maybe I need food; I sigh, of course, I need food, but then I’d have to get up.
A sudden shiver overtakes me, I frown, hugging myself. The café is warm. Is it possible for Nephilim to catch colds?
The chair in front of me moves and Spence plops down on it. I begin to smile automatically, but something sharp moves in my stomach, and a shiver runs down my spine. I turn around, looking for… I don’t know what I’m looking for, I just know something’s wrong. Then suddenly, it hits me—I’m frozen; I don’t think I’m breathing anymore, my chest aches.
The unearthly feeling is coming from across the table.
“Are you ok?” Spence asks. His brown eyes are set on my face, his smile doesn’t seem right.
“I… I don’t know,” I admit.
“You do look a bit green,” he comments, taking my lukewarm cocoa and sipping.
I swallow hard, fighting down the wave of panic that rises, the scream of dangerdangerdanger inside my head. Spence is a vegan, and that cocoa has extra cream.
“I’ve skipped meals for almost sixteen hours,” I say. “Mind grabbing me something to eat?”
He frowns, strangely dull eyes intense on me and I just know, I know that’s not Spence. I bite my lip, willing my empathy to expand so that I can see his aura and confirm I’m not going nuts.
I barely manage to bite down on a gasp as I see the darkness surrounding not-Spence. Like tentacles made of dark energy.
“Sure, what would you like?” he asks.
I pretend to yawn and cover my face. “Hard-boiled eggs and black coffee.”
My least favorite breakfast, Spence knows this.
The male in front of me stands, I give him a tight-lipped smile and try to control the tremor in my hands.
“Be right back, dove,” not-Spence says.
I bite my lip and nod. Pain lances down my spine. My breath comes in short bursts as I wait for him to join the queue.
As soon as he turns away from me, I zoom out, not caring if a human notices me pelting away from the café and running down the street. I grab my phone, but my hair is yanked back and the cry that escapes my throat is cut by a cool hand. He’s faster, of course, he is. I can do nothing as I’m dragged at neck-breaking speed towards an alley. He lets go of my mouth, his hand clamps down on my wrist and I scream, opening my hand reflexively and losing my phone.
“Easy there, little dove,” Kazzian murmurs in my ear, both of my wrists captured in his iron grip no
w. “I don’t feel like seeing your little boyfriend today.”
Nox, I need nox.
Kazzian releases me roughly, ripping off my amethyst necklace, my neck burns as the chain cuts my skin.
I open my mouth, ready to recite the summoning spell, but Kazzian has a hand clamping my throat in no time. He still looks like Spence, it’s incredibly disturbing.
He clicks his tongue. “If you summon him, your half-blood little friend will pay the consequences.”
Spencer.
“What have you done to him?” I snarl-gasp. He releases me brusquely. His form seems to ripple and blur, brown hair becomes blonde-white, brown eyes darken to coal. I start to shake as I see the face that has haunted me in my nightmares for the last month.
Kazzian smiles, coal eyes bright with amusement. “Come with me and find out.”
I clench my teeth, tempted to reach for the dagger I’ve stashed in my boot, but knowing I’ll lose it in no time.
I give him a curt nod and he places his hand on my neck, his dark power enveloping us both. His touch gives me chills, I can feel the dark tendrils prod at me, but my inner shield is firmly in place. My power stirs behind my ribcage and I fight to tamp it down. I can’t show all my cards.
He leads me deeper into the alley, my phone is still in his hand. He deliberately shows me how he renders it to pieces by squeezing it and smiles wickedly. Without warning, we’re surrounded by rippling darkness. I gasp, feeling sick at once and deciding an empty stomach was for the best. His power is nothing like Nox’s, it’s full of foreboding and tainted with evil, I can feel it down to my bones.
I’m not all that surprised to land on the hardwood floor of Spence’s townhouse. I fall on my knees, nauseated, and brace my arms on the floor, barely noticing the destroyed furniture and scorched patches on the walls.
“No, no, no!” I cry, crawling towards Spencer’s limp, bloody and unconscious form.
He’s by the island in the kitchen, blood pouring from his nose, eyes, ears, and mouth.
“Spence? Open your eyes, please,” I sob, holding his head between my hands. There’s no response, he’s worryingly cool to the touch and his heartbeat is too slow.
“Oh, how your soul suffers for him,” Kazzian mocks.
I turn to him, blinking tears. “What the hell did you do to him, you bastard?!”
Kazzian smiles, raking a hand through pale blond hair. “His soul is delicious, not quite as much as yours will be, but we can’t always eat filet mignon, can we?”
A strangled sob catches in my chest as I turn to look at Spence’s prone body. Instinctively, I open my empathy and look for his aura, it’s there but so faint. The once bright aquamarine is almost completely washed out and barely pulses. He doesn’t have long.
“He’s not lost forever,” Kazzian drawls, his breath behind my neck. “You can still save him, Dinah.”
“You can’t have my soul,” I say, my voice quivering.
Dark tendrils of energy touch my skin and I flinch, feeling so small and powerless.
He is doing this; I realize. He’s making me feel weak, I have to fight it.
Kazzian tuts. “I thought you loved your friend, perhaps I should have taken the succubus bitch, would you like me to go fetch her?”
I’m moving before I can think about it, pulling out the dagger from my boot and slicing towards him. Kazzian moves away, a wicked smile still firmly in place. “I was wondering when that infamous courage of yours would make an appearance.”
“You’re not touching her. And you’re going to undo what you did to Spencer,” I growl through clenched teeth.
Kazzian smiles. “Of course. As soon as you bind your soul to mine.”
“Never!” I snap, feeling heat flaring behind my sternum, my sight sharpening and bathing in orange-gold.
Kazzian’s smile wavers, his eyes fall to the dagger for a moment.
“Your power has grown. Good, more to feast on.”
I throw a shield up instinctively, and it’s the right move. Kazzian’s done playing. He sends his dark tentacles of power towards me. We both hiss as the opposing energies collide, I feel as if I’m being stabbed through each point of contact. I stand my ground, back towards Spence, determined not to let Kazzian near him again.
The demon hisses, upper lip curling over slightly sharp canines. “Make no mistake, little dove, you can’t win. Every second you waste fighting is a second of life your friend will never have back.”
I let out a battle cry and lunge towards him. The sapphire in the dagger glows like a flashlight, loaded with my power, all I have to do is run it through his heart. But it’s easier said than done. Kazzian is fast, faster than me, and stronger too. He avoids most of my strikes, his pale skin darkens, and smokes when he comes in contact with the thin layer of power covering me from head to toe.
Miraculously, I manage to slice a gash on his shoulder; black ichor oozes from the wound, it smells slightly like sulfur. He hisses, no longer looking amused but enraged. I lunge again, but he knocks the dagger off my hand.
He mutters a word under his breath and I cry out as the pressure against my shield doubles. My light power recedes, and the glow dies out, I blink tears and fight to stay upright.
“Stop this right now, and I will save your friend,” Kazzian wheedles, “I promise to be a fair master to you.”
“Never,” I snarl.
I let rage take over, feel the volcanic heat inside me as my power grows hotter and hotter. Kazzian’s eyes widen and he throws up a shield with a mutter in that dark language just as my power leaves my outstretched hand and collides against him like a flamethrower.
It’s stronger than the attack I landed on Nox several weeks ago. Kazzian stumbles and hisses, and I press on. His shield diverts my power and the orange-golden energy burns the walls, fire catches on the dining table, and the chairs, the curtains. The sprinklers activate. The heat inside me is dying out, the light power and fire pouring out of me are dwindling and I can’t stop it. I try to hold on for as long as possible, but with a frustrated cry, I have to admit defeat.
Kazzian comes into view again, breathing hard, his pale skin oozing smoke, eyes bright with hunger, anger. “So much stronger than before,” he says, and I can hear the longing in his voice.
I swallow hard. “Obex!“
It’s of no use. He doesn’t bother hitting me with his power, but blinks out of sight and hits me square in the stomach. My knees hit the floor, hard, and just then I remember I haven’t used the summoning spell. I cough and gasp, struggling for air.
“But not strong enough,” Kazzian mocks.
I begin to summon Nox. “Princeps lucem ac tenebras—”
I’m cut off by a tight pressure around my neck, I claw at myself desperately feeling as if a rope is tightening but it does me no good. I can breathe but not speak, I can’t summon Nox!
Kazzian lifts me from my hair, his face barely an inch away, I feel sick at the excitement on his pale face. “The only words you’ll be uttering are: ‘I bind my soul to you, Kazzian’, you won’t have your voice back until you do that.”
“Fuck you, Kazzian,” I vocalize.
His eyes turn completely black, no whites. “Wrong.”
I’m on the floor before I can even blink, only two feet away from Spence. My cheek throbs madly.
Kazzian lifts his foot to stomp my stomach, but I roll and aim a kick at his crotch. He snarls and I barely dodge a blow, hitting him with my fist on his solar plexus as I stand and kick again, keeping him away from Spence.
“Enough!” he snaps, spitting a spell in that alien language.
I mutter the shield spell, but it’s of no use. My ears ring and I hit the floor, writhing in place as dark energy envelops me. I convulse and dark spots cover my sight, my throat hurts with the inaudible cry that claws at my sore throat.
Make it stop, please make it stop.
It does stop, the worst of it at least, but the remnants of that dark energy still ripples through
my body and I keep convulsing.
“Ready to obey, little dove?” Kazzian drawls, face coming into view as he looms over me.
Tears fall from my eyes and hate myself for the part of me that wants to cave in. He launches a mental attack. But I’m ready for it. I visualize a maze of numbers and blast German power metal songs, all surrounded by a circle of and fire. Kazzian snarls and shakes his head. Half my mind is focused on keeping him at bay while I struggle with the spell keeping me from speaking.
“Oh, maybe you need a little incentive, yes?” he asks, smiling wickedly.
I can do nothing but watch as he walks towards Spence and lifts him by the neck.
No, no, no.
I stretch my hand and a pathetic ball of fire shoots from it, hitting Kazzian’s back. He hisses and lets go of Spence. My friend lands on the floor in an awkward sprawl, like a sack of potatoes.
Something digs on my back and I reflexively grab the hard metal, keeping my eyes on Kazzian as he grabs me by the neck and hauls me off my feet as if I were weightless.
“Stubborn little bitch,” he hisses, an inch away from my face.
I use what’s left of my strength to send my left arm up and dig my dagger right where his heart is. He tries to rear back, but I grab him by the hair with my right hand and use my weight to take us both down. I hold on to the dagger for dear life, sinking it deeper as he claws at my arms and neck like a deranged cat from hell. The light power clinging to the blade is enough to have his skin smoking, and an unearthly wail escapes him.
I let go of everything, of every moment of pain and fear, of feeling used, of all the anger that boils inside me at the sight of my friend—broken and dying. Fire burns in my chest and travels down my arms to my hands, the dagger directs it and cuts through Kazzian. He screams and bucks, but I keep my legs to each side of his torso and let every last flame flow through me.
The pressure around my neck loosens, and I realize I’ve been screaming. Kazzian is smoking, not just the charred wound in his chest but his whole body. I crawl off him and turn Spence face up. I swallow hard, feeling my throat raw and bleeding. My sight swims and I feel as if I’m spinning.
Demon Warden: A Paranormal Urban Fantasy (The Cursed and the Fallen 1) Page 25