Demon Warden: A Paranormal Urban Fantasy (The Cursed and the Fallen 1)

by Selene Kallan

  I blink, moving a lock of hair that blocks her eyes, she’s still asleep.

  I hold her a bit tighter, smiling.

  * * *

  The horizon is brushed with orange, the tall buildings gleam like jewels with the last light of day. It’s beautiful despite the sound of honking cars and sirens at the distance.

  Bryce stands on the ledge looking towards the sunset, expression serene despite the sad eyes. He doesn’t acknowledge my arrival.

  “How are you feeling?” I ask.

  “Don’t you already know that?” he retorts, finally flicking azure eyes towards me.

  I shrug. “Not entirely, not unless I try.”

  Except for the times he loses control of his temper, Bryce is exceptionally good at keeping most of his emotions and thoughts shielded. Isir instructed him well.

  He sighs. “I’d managed to convince myself it was just fun. It took Derek dying for me to realize that it was more. How pathetic is that?”

  I swallow hard, resisting the impulse to pat his shoulder. We’ve not had such physical confidence for a century. It’s Dinah’s fault such instincts are surfacing.

  “It is what we get for being stubborn bastards who prefer to bury their heads in the sand.”

  Bryce laughs ruefully. “Oh, right, I’d forgotten I’m in good company,” he examines me, “though you’ve decided to stop denying you’re falling in love with her, haven’t you?”

  A twinge of dread, hope, and desire stirs inside my chest.

  I nod.

  “Good, Isir was seriously considering an intervention, you know?” a real smile flickers on Bryce’s lips.

  “Hell, I’m glad I avoided that,” I admit, cringing inwardly as I consider what Isir could’ve been planning. “Was Dinah going to get one?”

  Bryce shakes his head with a half-smile. “Why would she? She’s smarter than you.”

  I nod, smiling. “That’s true.”

  The wind hits us, carrying the unpleasant smells of the city and petrichor.

  “How’s Stefan?”

  Bryce swallows hard. “Angry, grieving. Better than he was when he just found out. Derek was all the family he had.”

  “I know.”

  Bryce snorts. “Knowing Isir, she’s probably pestering him and not allowing him to wallow in his misery as we speak.”

  “Most likely,” I agree.

  Bryce jumps down from the ledge. “I’ll go keep them company, and I don’t, by the way.”

  “Don’t what?” I ask, needing to hear it.

  Bryce gives me a knowing look. “I don’t blame you, or Dinah for his death. The bastard who did it has paid, I can live with that.”

  I nod, not mentioning that he still blames himself. We both know that will take time.

  “Don’t you have a crazy girlfriend to feed?” Bryce asks as he walks towards the door that leads inside.

  I smile. “That I do.”

  I portal directly to the kitchen, wondering if the lazy dormant star has finished waking up.

  DINAH

  I’m still stretching and yawning as I follow my nose towards the kitchen. A smile breaks through my face at the sight of Nox finishing an obscenely large omelet. Feeling bold, I wrap my arms around his waist and press my face between his shoulder-blades, inhaling deeply.

  “Finally,” he teases, squeezing my hands gently.

  I release him and resume my usual post. “It’s your fault, whatever you did relax me so much I feel boneless.”

  He looks up with surprise.

  I chuckle. “Yes, I am very aware of you using some sort of calming magic, which I’m grateful for.”

  He gives me a speculative look, something flashes in his eyes but then is gone. “I live to serve. Now eat, our presence is required at Qetesh.”

  I groan, accepting my plateful of omelet and cinnamon bun. “I’m so tempted to just sit on the couch and binge something with vampires.”

  Nox chuckles. “I’m afraid the lazy time is over, Starfire.”

  I smile, stupidly pleased with the nickname. “Oh, fine.”

  * * *

  I look in the mirror, realizing I’m starting to enjoy watching myself in different attires. My favorite kick-ass boots complement the simple black leggings and linen long-sleeved white blouse outfit. I’ve put on a gray vest that I admired on Isir one night. She left it in my drawers. A bit of lipgloss and mascara is all the make up I choose, I can’t do half of what Isir is capable of anyway. My hair is as messy as always.

  “Not bad,” I murmur.

  I leave the bathroom and swing open my room’s door. My eyes do a complete once over of Nox’s lean, powerful frame. He’s wearing his usual black suit, no tie and the first two buttons of the silk shirt are open revealing a small expanse of pale skin. His eyes sparkle and I realize I’m not the only one gawking.

  “Have I told you how much I like those boots?” He asks, wrapping a hand around my waist.

  I slide my hands up his shoulders. “I don’t think you have, no.”

  He smirks. “My bad, you look gorgeous.”

  “So do you.”

  A lock of his hair grazes a sharp cheekbone, I put it back in place reveling in the silk-soft feel.

  He presses me a bit closer. “We better get going.”

  “Or not,” I smile.

  He leans over and presses a kiss right under my left earlobe as the vortex of amethyst energy envelops us.

  I tangle my fingers with his as we arrive at a dark alley, across Qetesh. He gives my hand a small squeeze and we cross the street.

  My stomach does a small flip as I see Stefan in his usual bouncer duties, giving a tired look at a pretty human girl in a tiny black dress that’s trying to flirt her way inside.

  “Hi,” I say, feeling stupid. I’m half-aware of the gawking line of people.

  “Dinah,” Stefan says, amber eyes sad. After a moment’s hesitation, I reach and squeeze his hand, he squeezes back and lets me go, to open the door for us.

  Several complaints are coming from the humans in line. The pretty girl in the almost non-existent dress glares at me, then gives Nox a saccharine smile. I can’t help but chuckle as he gives her an unimpressed eyebrow lift.

  I take a deep breath, watching the crowd. Nox releases me to place a reassuring hand on my waist and guide me towards a table, I swallow hard when I see Isir and Bryce.

  I want to hug him, but I don’t know if that’ll be welcomed. I want to apologize.

  “Took you lovebirds long enough,” Isir says with mock-disapproval. She looks stunning in a sapphire silk dress that leaves most of her long legs on display and her favorite military-style boots.

  “This one almost doesn’t leave the bed,” Nox says.

  I nod. “I could hibernate.”

  Bryce snorts. “Of that, I have no doubt.”

  I bite my lip, reaching for his hand tentatively. “I-”

  Bryce takes my hand. “May I?” he gestures towards the dancing floor.

  I nod. Nox releases my waist and gives me a small, encouraging smile.

  Bryce places his hands loosely on my sides, I cross my fingers behind his neck. We barely do move, not bothering to keep up with the sensual song blasting through the speakers. I ignore the surrounding people, looking into his eyes.

  “I am so sorry,” I swallow hard. “I should’ve gone alone, I-”

  “Stop,” he says softly, leaning closer. “I learned a long time ago to assert blame to the ones who deserve it, and guess what? You don’t.”

  “You aren’t to be blamed either,” I say with determination. A flash of pain crosses those azure eyes.

  I can feel his grief burn a bit harder. “I know that.”

  And he does, but it’s complicated, I can understand that. I pull him into a hug, closing my eyes for a moment, squeezing tight, and then letting him go.

  We smile sadly at each other.

  “You know, for some reason, this reminds me of the high school dances I never went to,” I blurt. />
  Bryce smirks. “I don’t think we have an unsanitary red punch bowl here.”

  I chuckle.

  “Shall we go back?” he asks.

  “Okay.”

  Bryce keeps a hand on my shoulder as we make our way to Isir and Nox. Isir wraps an arm around Bryce’s waist, he sighs and lays his chin on her shoulder for a moment before gently pulling back. Nox places his hand on my middle back again, I lean into the touch.

  The vampire waiter with the many piercings brings us glasses of honey-colored liquid. He winks, “enjoy.” The wicked smile he gives me as he walks away tells me he saw me the day I got epically shit-faced.

  I groan. “Hell, no.”

  Isir and Nox chuckle.

  Bryce grins. “Go on, I’d like to hear what other songs you have in your repertoire.”

  Oh, gods.

  “You heard me?!” I ask, mortified.

  Bryce nods. “I did, only decided it was best for Nox to deal with you.”

  “What did you sing?” Isir asks, smiling mischievously.

  “Bring me to life,” I confess, blushing.

  Isir laughs. “Very rooftop appropriate.”

  “Very angsty gen z theme song,” Bryce teases.

  I gasp. “How dare you? It’s a classic!”

  I smile, even as they all laugh at my expense.

  Isir’s laughter dies. She blinks, looking beyond Nox.

  I turn, a five-foot-eleven vampiress is making her way to our table. I’m not sure how yet, but I can differentiate species without trying. Her long raven hair falls loose and straight to her waist, she’s dressed in a black button-down blouse, jeans, and boots, her gait is nonchalant, almost lazy.

  She stands right between Nox and Isir, flicking her curious eyes around our circle. “So, a Demon Prince, a succubus, a Nephilim and a dragon shifter walk into a bar,” her lips quirk in an impish smile, “someone ought to write a book about that.”

  I blink.

  Though relaxed and clearly not trying to be menacing, I can sense her contained might. She’s easily the most powerful vampire I’ve even been around.

  Isir arches a brow. “Qetesh is not a bar, and who are you?”

  Nox’s half-smile and relaxed posture tell me he knows her. Bryce is examining her intently.

  “Malina, but I prefer Mal,” the vampiress says with a grin that shows her sharp canines. “Your Highness and I met a few days ago.”

  “We were after the same hunter,” Nox explains. “And we have unresolved businesses to discuss.”

  Bryce and Isir relax.

  “Indeed,” Mal agrees, flicking a glance at the liquid Isir and Bryce sip before looking at Nox again. “Lovely Alice mentioned I might find you here, and I felt like relaxing a bit.”

  “Shall we discuss how to proceed with tracking down the others?” Nox offers. His urgency indicates to me it’s a serious matter that will most likely give me nightmares.

  Mal wrinkles her nose. “Erm, maybe not tonight, I need to just get drunk after all the shit I’ve read in those files we found.”

  I peer at Nox curiously, certain I’m shouting my thoughts at him.

  He squeezes my waist. “Mal is right, let’s take tonight to relax. We will discuss it tomorrow.”

  I bite my lip to hide the smile of satisfaction. We, as in me too. And after all the crap I just went through, I can’t wait to help others. No one should be cut open and experimented on.

  Mal leans forward a bit, locking sky-blue eyes with me, “I bet you are the reason why the Prince disappeared as if god were chasing him.”

  I snort, peering at Nox’s indulgent expression.

  “Maybe,” I say with a shrug, pushing my glass to her. “All yours.”

  Mal smirks, taking the glass and downing all the contents in three gulps.

  Bryce lifts a surprised brow.

  “Erm, you do know what that is, right?” I ask.

  Mal chuckles. “Fae wine, honey-based, excellent quality.”

  “Are you a ‘dancing on a table’ or ‘singing on the rooftop’ kind of person?” Bryce asks.

  Mal grins. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

  “So, shall we get reasonably drunk and get to know each other?” Isir asks, examining Mal with her empathy.

  The vampiress smiles, doing the same in return. “I’d be delighted,” she frowns, looking at the empty glass. “I’ll heed a full bottle to relax, I think.”

  Isir smirks. “Naturally, on the house. Let’s go to a more private location,” she suggests, not waiting for an answer and leading the way.

  Mal winks at Bryce. “Five Benjamin Franklins say I can stay sober for longer than you do.”

  An almost predatory smile curves Bryce’s lips. “We shall see.”

  “Oh gods,” I mutter, imagining what sort of disaster can ensue from a vampiress and a dragon getting drunk together.

  Nox wraps his arm tighter around me, leaning to whisper. “This will be interesting.”

  I smile, turning to look into his eyes, knowing he doesn’t mean just tonight, but our future. “Very much so.”

  We follow Isir towards the stairs, Nox’s hand steady around my waist. For the first time in my life, I don’t feel like an outsider.

  EPILOGUE

  THE TRAITOR

  She weaves through the dancing males and females, carefully avoiding their touch. Vampires, fae, lycans, half-bloods, even demons among the unaware humans. Sheer disgust tightens in her gut at the sight of a tall fae with carob skin and curly mahogany hair arching her neck with abandon as a pale vampire with dark hair bites atop her carotid. To the ignorant mortals, it’s nothing more than a passionate kiss, but she knows the truth.

  She bites back a snarl and hurries to get far away from them. Fae have Asteri blood in their veins. How can some fall so low as to mingle with predators? Only the Royals have retained their pride, their purity.

  She manages to slip between the writhing bodies and hides in the shadows, near the wall that faces the VIP section on the mezzanine floor. Two burly bouncers—both lycans—guard the stairs. Several semi-circular, white sofas face the balcony overlooking the dance floor.

  Her stomach gives an uncomfortable lurch as she sees him.

  He’s sitting on the right corner of the sofa. Ink-black hair grazing his elegant neck, a half-smile turns the cut-glass features into something blindingly beautiful. His powerful, lean frame is accentuated by a black suit.

  Nox.

  He looks at ease.

  No, he looks happy.

  And the source of his happiness is sitting right beside him.

  She clenches her teeth, barely paying attention to the succubus and the dragon as she examines the blonde Nephilim. She’s almost pale looking, with unstyled wavy hair and large silver eyes. Her features are symmetric but bland. Nothing special.

  Well, almost nothing. Even yards away and cloaked in Nox’s wards, her power is chaotic. Untrained and undisciplined, but considerable. The brat is so comfortable among her demon friends.

  The vampiress sitting at the other end of the sofa says something that has the Nephilim brat laughing, almost choking with her drink. Nox’s gaze falls on her, amethyst eyes bright with affection and amusement.

  He never looked at me that way, she thinks bitterly.

  Granted, she was never a doe-eyed simpleton, but she would have been if she’d known that’s what he wanted.

  I bet he’ll hand over his power to her on a silver platter.

  As much as it burns, she can’t deny the evidence. Her former lover has fallen for the Nephilim brat.

  Amethyst eyes lock with hers, and she holds her breath. Despite the glamour that’s changed her blood-red hair for a simple brown and her telltale ash-gray eyes for a pale blue, she feels as if he knows.

  He has that way of looking right through you.

  After two agonizing seconds, the blonde brat reclaims his attention, and he turns to give her a soft smile. The careless gesture makes her skin crawl.


  A slow grin curves her lips as she thinks of all the possible ways she can stop them from binding their power. She can’t let it happen.

  Such a bond between a Nephilim and a demon is considered sinful by all ethereal races. It has happened once before and will never happen again if the Nephilim and the Asteri have anything to say about it.

  And such a powerful demon merging with an equally powerful Nephilim would send the Asteri and perhaps even the Maker himself into a rage.

  That’s not why she will stop them, no. She doesn’t care about the Asteri’s disapproval or the consequences said bond can bring, she never has.

  His power is mine to take, mine to wield, she rails.

  If the rumors are true, there’s no way to convince the brat of turning her back on her demon protector. Two Nephilim have gone missing and one is as good as dead with the little bitch’s help. Trying to kidnap her will most likely lead to disaster as well. Nox would find her. And even though several Nephilim are willing to fight against him, the chances of overpowering him are ridiculously low.

  Only a high ranking Asteri stands a chance of defeating Nox. It would buy just enough time for her to take what she needs from him.

  Maybe it’s time to find out who the brat’s father is. Such power can’t come from a common Asteri, her sire must be in the Arch hierarchies.

  It won’t be easy, it will take careful planning and perfect timing, but she will bide her time. She plans to exert patience, one of her weakest virtues.

  With renewed purpose and a lot of planning to do, Zelyna leaves the club, casting a last glance towards her former lover, the second most powerful demon in existence.

  A smile curves her red-blood lips.

  You will be mine.

  THE THIEF

  She stands among the rubble of what once was a beautiful mansion. The traces of lingering power elicit a shiver down her spine. Dragon fire, demon fire, and Nephilim light power. All surrounded by the remnants of Asteri wards.

  What exactly happened, she doesn’t know, but the sheer amount of power needed to cause that much damage is almost unthinkable. Most of the wreckage was caused by the Nephilim and the demon.