by Jen Colly
Jovan trailed off, unable to find the words. Oriana helped him out, waving oddly to catch his attention. “Girls like compliments. Tell her something nice so she’ll dance with you.”
Nodding in agreement, Jovan held his hand out to Maeryn, palm up. He looked like a poet in a play. “Fairest lady, your gown is so…pink.”
“That’s terrible!” Oriana chided through her laughter.
Maeryn didn’t mind. She spun in an unbalanced circle on the bed, proudly displaying her nightgown dotted with tiny pink rosebuds.
Something inside her home, all around her, abruptly felt different. Wrong. Cat looked away from the playful exchange to catch Rollin’s attention. He only sent her a questioning glance. He didn’t sense the change.
Maeryn’s gleeful eyes suddenly grew wide with horror and she screamed, reaching desperately for Jovan.
Chapter 18
“Jovan!” Cat yelled. Jovan looked curiously at her and his frightened playmates, not understanding their distress. Jovan didn’t turn, couldn’t see it.
Just behind him stood an altered version of the demon Cat had killed here in her home. Dried black blood remained on its temple from where her throwing knife had sunk deep into its skull.
The demon, recently recovered from death, had yet to regain control over its blazing red eyes. Sallow skin sagged, loose on its body and face, as if it no longer fit. It should be mindless in this state of regeneration, but something about this demon was different. It seemed lucid.
Those red eyes were focused on Jovan. It opened its mouth, saliva dripping from its fangs.
Cat reached out, caught the front of Jovan’s shirt in her fist. Rollin surged forward at her side, but instead of reaching for Jovan, he anchored Cat’s leg to the bed. His strength gave her the leverage she needed, and with a rough tug, she pulled Jovan from harm’s way.
Fear for his life had caused her to pull too hard, and Jovan went sailing past her. His muffled cry of alarm was cut off as he hit the wall and fell to the ground with a thud. Wedged between her bed and the wall, he was safe, at least for now.
Rollin went for the demon, but Cat grabbed his arm and held him back, preventing an all-out brawl in a room full of children. The demon didn’t even look at Rollin, didn’t count him significant, as a target or threat.
The demon lunged at Cat, landed on top of her, and she fell back onto the bed. Maeryn and Oriana squealed as she fell, scrambling away from her and the demon. Cat barely had time to throw her arms up to hold it at bay. Her arms shook under its aggressive attack. It clambered to get closer, teeth bared, fingers digging into her shoulders as it pulled them together.
From the corner of her eye she saw Rollin take hold of the girls and drag them off the bed, away from the fight. The demon looked up, tracked the girls’ movements. Then it suddenly reared up and howled in pain. She couldn’t see what had happened, but she used the diversion to try and work herself out from under the demon’s heavy weight.
She couldn’t get free, but the demon wasn’t concerned with her efforts. It ignored her and reached for…Jovan!
Jovan stood with a knife in his hand, black blood dripping down the blade, and a dark scowl on his face. He wanted to have another go at the demon. In his attempt to help her and the girls, Jovan had drawn the demon’s full attention.
“No!” Cat shouted, sending a sharp punch to the demon’s face. “Eyes on me!”
The demon lashed out at her again. Between the demon’s weight and its stench of death, Cat could barely breathe. It fixated on her neck, eyes narrowing on its goal. Hot, damp breath curled over her skin. Saliva dripped onto her neck, warm and thick. The demon’s teeth grazed the delicate skin of her neck, and a strangled cry escaped her.
Before its fangs could break skin, the demon was gone.
Drawing in deep breaths, Cat righted herself. Rollin had hauled the demon off her, dragged it into the kitchen. He slammed the demon against the wall and pressed his forearm hard against the demon’s throat. It flailed, struggled to break free. The demon wasn’t strong enough to physically manipulate a vampire the size of Rollin.
The demon was occupied, giving her the opportunity to get the kids out. Maeryn and Oriana had their backs flat against the wall, holding hands as they inched toward the bedroom door. They were trying not to draw its attention. Good girls.
Jovan ran past her, darted into the kitchen. She tried to catch him, but he was fast, determined. Dodging Rollin and the demon, he zeroed in on the red emergency button on the wall. The alarm. Guardians would be here soon.
She tried to catch his attention, to send him out the door to safety, but Jovan ran back to the bedroom. He immediately joined Maeryn and Oriana against the wall. He’d returned for the girls. Jovan stood nearest the doorway. One arm held them tight against the wall and the other still gripped the knife smeared with black demon blood.
The demon twisted free, and Rollin grabbed its shirtfront with both hands and slammed it back against the wall so hard they felt the vibrations all the way down through the floor. They needed to move.
Cat had to grab Jovan’s chin and turn his head toward her to get him to focus on anything but the demon. When his eyes finally met hers, she said, “Get them out of here.”
Jovan nodded. He reached back and grabbed Maeryn’s hand. Cat motioned for him to wait. Rollin was in control, but it was still a struggle, both wresting for the upper hand. She couldn’t let the kids run through if there was any chance it could break loose, which meant she had to help Rollin.
“Stay here,” she whispered to Jovan, then went into the kitchen.
She caught one of the demon’s wrists and held it against the wall, kept it from pawing at Rollin. She planted her foot solidly between the demon’s, locking her leg over its knee. Should it break loose and bolt after the kids, she’d go down with the demon, but it would trip, buying the kids more time.
“Go!” Cat shouted. She caught a glimpse of three dark heads dashing for the door like a streak of black lighting.
The sudden movement agitated the demon and it surged against them. She and Rollin managed to keep it in check. Its eyes followed the children out the door and it snarled, gnashing its teeth. Now it seemed as if its mind had slipped back into an animalistic state, making it want to lash out. There was no way to know for sure how much of the demon’s mind was intact, not that a conversation with a demon could accomplish much.
“This is the same one—” Rollin’s words were cut off by another violent twist from the demon. “Why is it still alive?”
“You kill me,” the demon taunted, speaking directly to Rollin. “And he’ll come for her himself.”
“Who wants her dead?” Rollin demanded, shoving his forearm harder against its throat.
The demon cranked its head to the side to look at Cat, its voice strained. Time seemed to stop as it smiled. “Daddy’s home.”
“Get my sword,” Cat ordered.
“But you can’t—”
“I didn’t ask,” she snapped. Rollin glanced down at her and she signaled that she was ready.
With a frustrated growl, Rollin punched the demon, attempting to stun it enough to buy them some time. Then he ran for Cat’s sword.
Half mad from starvation, the demon was powerful, struggling constantly. It wasn’t huge, and holding it back shouldn’t be a problem, but the constant flailing and close quarters were quickly becoming problematic.
Then it pushed against the wall, forcing Cat to take several steps back to keep her footing. The demon snapped at her, and she retaliated, smacking it hard over the ear with her open palm, hoping to at least burst an eardrum.
The demon shouted in pain, shook its head, then dove for her. Cat was ready, sending a hard punch to its jaw. It stumbled awkwardly, but as it did, it reached out and caught her upper arm. Angry and injured, it flung her across the room, toward the open door to her home.
Cat rolled as she hit the floor, her legs hitting the wa
ll at an odd angle, making it difficult for her to spring back onto her feet.
Two solid hands took hold of her, under her shoulders, and hauled her up. She tried to break free, but whoever held her refused to let her go. She glanced back. Navarre.
The demon laughed, an evil, triumphant sound that upset the very air. “You can’t save her, mighty lord. You can’t even save yourself.”
The demon couldn’t see the danger in taunting her, in facing her. Cat was free of its grasp, and Rollin didn’t waste time. He swung, the sword hitting the target with frightening accuracy, and some serious power. The demon’s head fell with a dull thud, its body wilting to the floor a moment later.
Rollin didn’t look at the fallen demon. His furious gaze locked on Cat as he pressed his shoulders back and pointed to her. “I will be a Guardian. What I do is no longer up to you.”
“It’s about damn time you figured that out,” Cat said sharply.
Rollin’s jaw dropped slightly. It took him a moment to regain his composure, but then he pulled all expression from his face and sent Cat a short nod as if to say they were in accord.
“Jovan and the two girls came to my door. I sent them to Soren’s home,” Navarre said, drawing their attention. “Where’s Dulcina?”
Rollin answered. “Safe. She’s with Soren.”
Navarre went to the fallen demon. “Another one?”
Heavy footfalls from the corridor drew their attention. Captain Savard rushed in, three Guardians following behind him. Men and swords crowded the doorway of her home. Quickly noting the lack of immediate threat, Savard ordered his men to stand down.
“Savard, you need to see this,” Cat said, and when he came near, she maneuvered the severed head with her boot until its black, bloodied, and nearly healed temple came into view.
Savard recognized it instantly, and his surprise swiftly shifted to outrage. “We had this one. I ordered its head removed.”
Navarre caught her gaze. “That’s the one you… It came back from a knife through the skull?”
“It was a shallow hit. A blade to the temple turns the lights out, but not permanently.” Cat turned to Savard and lowered her voice, a deadly edge to her words. “Who let this one live? Who turned it loose?”
Savard turned to the men who had accompanied him and singled out one man. “Tarmon, you worked the jail that night, and the demon was brought to you. You didn’t remove its head.”
“I had no direct order to decapitate a body, so, no, I didn’t remove its head,” Tarmon said smoothly, showing every bit of his aristocratically cool bearing.
“Tarmon.” Captain Savard said the Guardian’s name slowly, a warning. “I know you haven’t been posted in the jail for long, but demons are decapitated. This is protocol.”
“Beheading demons was your barbarous decree. You’re no longer lord of this city, Captain,” Tarmon said, a satisfied smile curling his lips.
Cat started toward him, but Navarre stepped in front of her, blocked her path. In a cautioning tone, Navarre said, “Restrain yourself.”
“I won’t kill him.” Her deadly stare remained locked on Tarmon. “I just want to make him bleed.”
“All this fuss over a decapitation? It’s not like I opened the door and let it out. It was locked up.” Tarmon looked from his lord to his captain, expecting someone to back him, give him a way out.
“You’re an idiot,” Rollin declared loudly.
“It’s just a demon, people,” Tarmon said, his careless tone striking a raw nerve.
“I’ll decapitate you, you son of a—” Cat charged at Tarmon, but before she could reach him, Navarre hooked his arm around her waist, scooped her off the floor.
Navarre set her behind him, and for her ears alone, said, “This will be handled.”
Through her fury she heard the promise in his voice. Cat nodded, allowed him to take charge. Relinquishing control of the situation was one of the most difficult things she’d ever done.
“Tarmon,” Navarre said, calm and detached. “While the body in position of lord has been in flux as of late, the command has remained the same. My word is law, and as Savard is my captain, his word is an extension of mine. This has never changed.”
Tarmon shook his head. “But taking off a demon’s head—”
“The point, Tarmon, is that you have no authority within my city,” Navarre said, a wickedly calculating glint in his eye. “Punishment for anyone impersonating the lord is up to me, but as Savard speaks for me… Captain?”
“Jail him,” Savard said without hesitation.
Tarmon’s eyes went wide a second before the Guardians took hold of his arms and pulled him from her home. Cat glanced back at Rollin, who sent her a quick nod, clearly approving of the captain’s decision.
No matter how well-deserved the punishment was, there would be a backlash from Tarmon’s wealthy family, and not all the blame would fall on the captain. Cat settled her hand in the center of Navarre’s back, the show of support practically an involuntary gesture, but she didn’t pull away.
* * * *
Cat sat at her kitchen table alone, staring at the door to her home. Navarre and Soren were currently in a council meeting, and Faith had taken all five children out for dinner and dessert to help take their minds off the demon that had risen from the dead and returned to their home to finish the job.
Rollin hadn’t hesitated to kill the demon, to take its head, and when the fight was over and he stood with the adults, no one objected. The black bloody mess on her floor and wall needed scrubbing, and the cleaning crew would come sometime tonight.
She’d sat here for hours, long after the Guardians had left, taking Tarmon and the demon’s body with them. The demon threat was very real, their reoccurring presence a dangerous problem, and yet all she could think about was Navarre.
Navarre had rushed into her home in the middle of a demon fight, determined to help in any way he could. It was simply his nature to help others, so much so that he hadn’t even spared a moment to put on shoes. The memory of him standing barefoot in her home brought a smile to her lips.
They’d been lucky. The demon had breached their home when everyone was awake and able to defend themselves or escape. Had this demon showed up in Navarre’s home, he could have been killed. The still-mending cartilage of his ribs was a poor barrier to shield his heart, and even fighting off a demon, with or without a sword, would be painful for him without the solid support of bone in his chest.
He wasn’t healing, wouldn’t heal without her blood. The thought of losing Navarre made her heart ache. The binding connection to him was simply there. She didn’t understand it, but time and again she felt it deeply.
Navarre had done nothing to make her want to deny him. He didn’t push her to become something he wanted, but instead Navarre had asked to be what she needed. She’d never known anyone could be that good and understanding.
Was she really shelving a bond they both needed because she feared his bite? No, not his bite. Any bite. Tonight the demon had nearly broken skin, and though it hadn’t, the mental damage was already done. When she finally dropped into sleep, the mind-scrambling, terrifying dreams of the past would come.
It seemed ridiculous, childish even, to fear a bite. She’d had a few close calls with demons, usually in the heat of a fight, but the only man to ever fully sink his teeth was Navarre. She’d come to him blood-drunk, expecting him to shred her neck in his hallucinogenic state of blood deprivation. Cat recalled the feel of his hands on her skin, the touch of his lips on her neck, both so gentle as he fought to control himself.
When his bite came, fear had blocked out any other sensation, and her fears came from a very rational place. She’d seen the pain and carnage fangs could inflict, and it didn’t matter the species. The horrors she’d witnessed had come from both vampire and demon.
The dreams had nothing to do with Navarre, and her conscious mind knew that, but his bite had still trigger
ed them. But when she’d bitten Navarre? No dreams, no fears, and a deep curiosity as to why he’d found her bite pleasurable. Navarre had shown her how it was meant to be.
Cat always trusted her instincts, and they were screaming for her to cleave to Navarre. So why did she hesitate? Why was she so frightened to love and be loved when Navarre gave her soul peace?
Never in her life had she backed down. She would not start now. Cat stood, straightened her shoulders, and walked out the door.
The repetitive echo of her boots on the marble floor surrounded her as she marched through the corridor, her purposeful stride causing people to hop out of the way when she neared. She wasn’t wearing any weapons, but they didn’t seem to notice.
Cat was a threat. Period. She could do anything, which included walking into that council room and letting herself have the man she wanted.
As she neared the foyer before the dining hall, she slowed at the strange sight of Captain Savard standing in the corridor. Waiting. He was supposed to be in the council meeting with Navarre.
Keir dropped out of Spirit and marched up to Savard, a serious frown on his face. She couldn’t hear what they were saying, but the mood was tense. Both men had their hands on their weapons.
Leaning close, Keir quietly said something to the captain. Savard jerked away to look at Keir. At the assassin’s solemn nod, tension strung through Savard, his back rigid. Another quick exchange of words, then the men swiftly parted ways, though Savard cautiously glanced toward the dining hall as he passed by. Savard marched toward her, completely unfocused on the path before him. Something wasn’t right.
“Where’s Navarre?” Cat asked.
Captain Savard jolted to a halt. He hadn’t he noticed she was in the corridor. “Still in the meeting.”
“What’s wrong, Captain?”
“I have to go,” he said, his youthful face drawn, resigned. Then he smiled. “He doesn’t care, does he? Navarre accepts you even though you’re different.”
Cat blinked in confusion. “He said he did.”