by Jen Colly
Her focus narrowed to the demon’s neck. The chanting and raving crowd faded to white noise, and she heard nothing, saw nothing but her target. The angle wasn’t right, and instead of directly approaching the demon, she neared the wall.
“You can kill me, but he will come for me, save my life, and I will return for you.”
“Why save a corpse? Didn’t my father tell you? I don’t take lives,” she said, raising her blade high. “I take heads.”
Sheer panic washed over the demon a moment before she struck hard, the blade sparking as it made contact with the wall. The demon’s head fell, and its limp body crumpled, bleeding into the thirsty sand.
Cat stepped away from the fallen demon and pointed her sword to the arena stands, black blood dripping down the blade. Slowly she turned, until the tip of her sword had made a full circle. This was her warning to the people. Should they attempt to murder, she would be waiting right here to guarantee their death.
There was no reason to linger. Her job was done. Cat turned on her heel and left the arena. Barro loped after her, slipping into the dark tunnel before the door shut.
Sheathing her sword, she leaned back against the door. Barro waited, restless, shifting his weight from one front paw to the other. She knew exactly how he felt. Not enough room to pace. She needed to move. Cat marched down the corridor, sand that had escaped the arena floor crunching into the stone floor beneath her boots.
Barro rumbled a warning, and Cat pulled her short swords halfway free, waiting to see who approached.
“Cat, a word.” The familiar voice echoed through the corridor, through her.
She replaced her swords and Barro calmed. Cat didn’t stop. She brushed by Navarre. “Not interested.”
“You shouldn’t have the strength to hold off a demon of that size,” Navarre said, his tone hushed.
That got her attention. She stopped, and Barro trotted on without her, leaving her on her own.
“But I did.” She laughed, short, humorless. “You think I’m demon?”
“Are you?”
“You won’t have to worry about it. I’ll be out of your city by dawn.” She tried to leave, but Navarre caught her arm, turned her around to face him.
“You fed me to stay. Now you would abandon five children at the first sign of adversity? Why?”
“This isn’t adversity. He knows where I am, and he won’t stop until I’m dead. I need to be as far from those kids as possible. If I leave the city, the demons will follow me. Then they’ll be safe.”
“Who wants you dead, Cat? Who is hunting you?”
She shrugged. “The demon never denied it, so I assume my father.”
“Why would a man hunt down his own child?”
“Not one demon he’s sent to kill me has ever made it back to him. I’ve never met the man, but I know how he thinks.”
“You’re forgetting demons were here before you arrived. They attacked and killed my people. This isn’t just your fight. Stay. See this through. With me.” Navarre took a small step closer, and that’s when she realized he still held her arm. Somehow she didn’t mind. “I never imagined you would run from anything. What did he do to you?”
What did he do to you?
Cat shuddered, her mind jumping back to a place she didn’t want to go, back to the night her miserable excuse for a life fell to pieces.
Navarre reached out with his other hand, his fingers brushing her arm, just above her elbow. She flinched. He’d barely touched her, but she couldn’t control the reaction. A hand on each arm, he held her there, gently trapped. She scanned the tunnel around them, suddenly needing a way out.
Navarre didn’t let her go, wouldn’t allow her to avoid him. He gathered her against his chest and wrapped his arms around her, hugging her tightly to him. Cat’s first instinct was to push him away, put distance between them, but his embrace was genuinely warm and caring. Comforting.
She didn’t know how long he held her, how long it took for her eyes to stop frantically searching everything in her line of vision for…she didn’t know what. A way out? A way through? Somehow she’d calmed, her eyes fixing on his shirtsleeve. Tension ebbed from her shoulders, the adrenaline from the fight leaving her body.
His voice rumbled through his chest to her ear. “Did your father hurt you?”
“He tried.” She didn’t know how to sugarcoat the truth, so she just said it out loud. “He killed my mother.”
Blocking the horrific memories for so many years had obviously done little good. They resurfaced in her dreams, or after feeding, forcing her to relive every sight, smell, and sound of that night. Sometimes all it took was the red eyes of a demon to send her back to that hell she’d worked so hard to forget.
Though Cat was curled against his warmth, her body shook with chills. If Navarre wanted to fight this with her, then he needed to know what he was up against.
“My father would leave a note on the doorstep the night before he planned to visit my mother. He did it to frighten her. She’d find it in the morning and cry the whole day. Because of me, she couldn’t run in the daylight, and she feared him catching us in the night. So she stayed, took the pain to keep us alive.”
“Your mother loved you,” Navarre said.
Cat’s shoulders rose in a small shrug. “Maybe. I never understood her. She refused to fight for me. She just died,” she said, her voice unsteady. Navarre’s hand slowly stroked her back, a gentle and soothing motion. It helped.
Cat pressed her cheek against his chest, burrowed closer into his embrace. She’d never thought it possible, but somehow just being held in his arms made her feel safe.
“What happened?” he whispered against her head, his breath softly ruffling her hair.
“She hid me beneath the floorboards when he’d come. He’d hurt her, force her to let him feed, to… She was covered in open bite marks. He left them all open. It took her weeks to heal.” Her voice was harsh with hate, and her body trembled, the memories so vivid. “One night he taunted her, claiming that if ‘the child’ died, he would have no use for the mother. She started digging. Under the flooring, she dug a small tunnel leading from the house to the hillside out back. She called it my rabbit hole. Told me how fast rabbits can run when they’re frightened.”
Navarre brought his hand to the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her hair as he held her tighter. “When he came back, others were with him. Hiding beneath the floor, I never saw them, but I heard everything. They killed her. I heard her screams. The echo…” Cat pressed her hands to her ears, trying to block out a sound that wasn’t truly there. Her voice turned harsh and ragged. “He knew where I was, had waited, like it was a game to him. I ran through that tunnel.”
“Cat, stop,” Navarre whispered gently. “I understand why you fear this man, and being bitten.”
“I was eight when he took my mother from me, a child when I ran from that tunnel. They’d known it was there. Him and his damn games. A demon waited for me at the end, its red eyes a terrifying sight floating in the dark. It caught me, and almost…” Her words failed her then, and all she could do was lift her hair with a shaking hand. It was too dark to see clearly here in the Justice tunnel, so she found Navarre’s hand, brought it to her neck. His fingers traced the double raised, jagged scars behind her ear. “I broke loose and found myself in Spirit that night for the first time, invisible, watching it scramble to find me.”
So young, and with no access to blood, she hadn’t healed properly. Demon teeth had permanently scarred her. Navarre didn’t say a word. He pulled her back against his chest, held her just as tightly as he had before.
“Are you demon, like your father?”
Cat opened her eyes. Beyond Navarre’s white shirt, she saw only the darkness of the tunnel, the walls and ceiling so close. “I thought my father was demon. For years I thought I was demon. And still I hunted what I thought was my own kind.”
“You’re not…”
She stepped back, took his hand in hers, and pressed his palm to her cheek. “Do I carry the same heat as a demon? Do you see red in my eyes? I’m different than your people, but I don’t have the same traits as a demon.”
“But you have fangs.” Navarre took her shoulders in his hands. “Cat, if he knows you’re here, and he’s a vampire within my city, then we can find him. Capture him. What does he look like?”
She shook her head. “I’ve never seen him.”
Navarre seemed to ponder this for a moment as he brushed her hair from her cheek, then dropped his hand to cup her bare shoulder.
“This still doesn’t completely explain what you are, your hair, and your strength. I need the truth.” Navarre gently asked, “What manner of creature was your mother?”
“Human.”
Navarre’s head jerked back with a sudden recognition and shock that she didn’t comprehend. “You’re Forbidden.”
* * * *
Suddenly Cat’s defenses shot back up, all vulnerability gone. Navarre wasn’t surprised when she pushed him away and took several steps back.
“What does that mean?” Her voice echoed off the tunnel walls, surrounded him. The uncertainty in her tone struck him. She truly didn’t know what she was.
“The child of a vampire and human, because the combination was never meant to exist, it is called Forbidden,” Navarre said.
“I’m not some defective thing that can’t function. I’m here, and I’m whole. If I was never meant to exist, then I wouldn’t.”
“Cat, Forbidden are rare. You’re the first I’ve known in my lifetime. It’s not that Forbidden can’t exist, but something about the human genetics mixing with those of a vampire triggers heightened abilities. And your strength? You’re not a large female, or muscle-bound. You’re small, agile, but you’re so powerful. That innate power is what makes the Forbidden a feared species. Just as you hunted demons, vampires once hunted Forbidden.”
“That’s why my father wants me dead? He fears me?”
“Possibly. Fear can keep a man rooted in the past. Forbidden weren’t always hunted. Long ago, before my time, nearly a hundred lived among vampires inside our cities. Forbidden were simply ignored. Then one killed. This Forbidden male, acting alone, killed well over thirty Guardians in one night before he was taken captive. The people were terrified. That was when the Forbidden Hunts began.” None of this would help her, but he felt she had a right to know how her kind were viewed by most vampires.
“You said the Forbidden male was taken captive. Did they execute him?”
Navarre knew this story well. The documented accounts were almost as fascinating as the mysterious lack of facts surrounding the entire event. “I don’t know. Nothing I have found provided a conclusion. His story never ended.”
“And how will my story end?” she asked defiantly, chin tilted high.
“If I have anything to say on the matter, your story will never end. Your father committed the crime of siring a child on an unconverted human. I will not cast you aside, from my city or my life. You have done nothing wrong, and will always have a home here.”
“My kids won’t be safe if I stay.”
“They may not be safe if you leave,” he said, and her gaze locked on his. “Stay here. Stand by my side and take on this fight with me.”
“What, like a partnership?”
Navarre smiled. “I have a plan.”
His plan might very well roust their enemy from hiding, but his main goal was to keep her at his side.
Chapter 12
Navarre had hope. Cat promised to remain in Balinese, at least for now. It was enough. She hadn’t wanted to leave, that much was clear, but she’d been prepared to walk away from the children she loved to protect them. Which meant her strength wasn’t only physical.
The things she’d been through had formed her, given her an inner strength, and the woman she’d become had instantly made sense. She protected her children with a fierceness he’d never before witnessed in a female, and they weren’t even hers, biologically speaking. It was a trait he found appealing.
Though loathing red-eyed demons was not abnormal, her hatred ran deep, as did her mistrust of those around her. And why wouldn’t it? She’d only known betrayal and death before coming to his city. Navarre had a feeling that the most progress she’d made emotionally had been due to her children. The children were her heart, her soul. Her weakness.
Someone had been in this city long enough to know Cat, her habits, the children’s location. This situation needed to end, even if he had to provoke an ending.
He’d asked Cat to meet him in the training room two hours later. Refusing to divulge his plans after she’d just been through an execution and the reminiscence of a traumatizing childhood seemed wise. With time, her adrenaline rush would fade and she would be in a better state of mind to discuss strategy.
As Navarre stepped inside the training room, the panther lifted his head from where he lounged between Jovan and Maeryn. His tail twitched for a brief moment, but apparently Navarre was not as interesting as the two kids trying to play cards around his paws.
When the feline decided to ignore him, Navarre surveyed the room. Off in the corner, Oriana took short, sharp jabs at a punching bag. The only thing remaining childlike about her was her curly ponytail bouncing in strange directions as she threw punches.
He’d almost missed Rollin. Wearing black shorts and a white T-shirt, he blended in with the weight machines. Seemingly bent on increasing his already large frame, Rollin was putting some serious work into his upper body strength.
The clank of metal striking metal drew Navarre’s attention. Dulcina and Cat both held swords, facing off. The two females were nearly matched in height, though not skill. Not yet. The teen actively dodged and blocked blows, moving with a similar agility as her teacher.
Navarre carefully moved around the pair until he entered Cat’s line of vision. Suddenly she stopped right in the middle of the fight and lowered her sword.
Dulcina, already in motion, had to work hard to redirect her sword from hitting its intended target. She twisted awkwardly to avoid striking Cat, and she did, barely. Landing oddly on one knee, her hand on the floor, Dulcina scowled at Cat. “A little warning next time!”
“Why?” Cat grinned. “If I warn you, then I don’t get to see you improvise. Well done.”
Dulcina’s frustration vanished and she practically glowed from Cat’s positive assessment. Showing off then, Dulcina gave her sword a little spin before she left the adults on their own.
Cat planted the tip of her sword into the floor, leaning on it as if she were bored. “Nice of you to make it, Casteel.”
Navarre tilted his head, somewhat confused. Did she use his last name to distance herself from him, to make this meeting impersonal? Had the closeness they’d shared made her uncomfortable around him? Or perhaps he was only interrupting.
“Should I come back when the lesson is over?”
“It’s not a lesson. We were killing time. Soren and Faith will be here soon to take them for the night.” Cat whistled sharply, then shouted, “Clean it up!”
Jovan hopped to his feet, leaving a scattered mess of cards for Maeryn to gather on her own, which she did without complaint.
The panther sprang to his feet and trotted happily after Jovan. Begging for attention, Barro bumped his broad head against Jovan’s leg. He pushed the panther away. Not at all discouraged, he returned to Jovan’s side, head butting him hard enough to make his knee buckle.
A dark glower on his face, Jovan pushed the panther’s head down sharply. Once. Twice.
Barro opened his mouth and a throaty growl rumbled through the room. Jovan moved to strike a third time, but in the blink of an eye the panther bared its teeth and knocked Jovan to the floor.
Barro stood over him, and the boy instinctively turned his face away from teeth. The panther settled one massive paw over Jovan�
��s cheek, pinned him down.
Navarre moved to help the boy, but Cat threw her arm out, effectively halting his progression.
“Cat,” Jovan called nervously, his face still squished between the floor and a furry paw.
“You’re in the wrong, not him. Figure it out yourself,” Cat said, crossing her arms over her chest as if settling in to watch the scene unfold before her.
“You’re not going to help him?” Navarre asked quietly.
Cat leaned close and dropped her voice, the serious edge unnerving. “If he doesn’t learn to think before he acts, and value others above himself, the justice will one day hunt him. He has no respect. For anyone.”
She must have caught Navarre’s shocked look because Cat gave him a single nod of confirmation. The justice? Each city had a high justice, the executioner, the direct extension of the lord’s decree. The justice were men sanctioned by the city to hunt down a person who had broken a law that would result in execution. Their mission was to bring back the offender. Dead or alive.
Navarre couldn’t believe she could make such a decree about a thirteen-year-old child. “You’re guessing he’ll murder?”
She glanced up at him and whispered, “I’m not guessing.”
Navarre looked back at Jovan struggling to push the paw off his head. When he failed to gain freedom, he tried to wiggle out from under the paw. Barro sidestepped over Jovan and lay down on top of him. Grunting under the panther’s weight, Jovan smacked the floor mats, frustrated with his defeat.
“I’m sorry, Barro.” Jovan said the right words, but his voice remained petulant.
Barro’s ears twitched at the sound of his name, but he remained resolute, holding Jovan to the floor. Apparently the panther understood intonation, because he wasn’t buying the line. Barro licked his whiskered lips, his jaw gaping as he vocalized his displeasure. Jovan let out an exasperated breath, then another. After a long moment, he calmed.