Desire

by P. T. Michelle

  Chance doesn’t even bother to open his eyes. “I’ll personally consider it an early Christmas present.”

  “You really don’t want to play?” I ask.

  Chance shakes his head, his gaze finally meeting mine. “Not really. I can’t improvise like you and Duke do. Been dreading this night all week until you showed up.”

  “We only have an hour left in the set,” Dom says. “You don’t have to play the after songs if you’d rather get back to your brother. What do you say?”

  My brother is so completely into Emily, I doubt he’ll even notice. I don’t think he’s looked at the stage once since she walked in. I slowly nod. “Just do me a favor and don’t mention the switch up or announce me once we’re on stage. Let’s just play.”

  Dom shrugs. “Fine by me.”

  Duke shakes his shaggy red hair from his eyes and hands me his guitar. “Take care of her, dude.”

  Nodding, I take the instrument. When my hand folds around the neck and the strings push against the pads of my fingers, a sense of euphoria washes over me. It can’t hurt to get lost in the music for a little while.

  For the next hour, I bend over the guitar under the hot stage lights and revel in Adder’s talent, enjoying the escape it brings. Even though I understand where my dreams come from now, I still wake up with my fists clenched and tension vibrating through me, so this release feels good.

  While we move through rock songs, Southern rock and even a couple slower ballads, I let the pleasing sounds flow from my fingers up my arms, then down my body all the way to my tapping foot. All the while, I’m wishing I had the ability to take control of my dreams as easily as my fingers slide across these strings. I’m a bit jealous that Nara was somehow able to manipulate my own dream world while she was in it. Apparently, my brain is only wired to fight against the monsters, evil, and horrific scenarios that fill my sleep time, not eliminate them with a mere thought.

  Should I blame the Corvus for my dreams? Up until now I believed the dark imagery was a manifestation of my mind working through the negative stuff I absorb from people I come in contact with, but maybe they’re a result of both our strong minds and wills sharing the same space.

  I just wish I could figure out how to stop the nightmares all together. Maybe if I work harder on mentally blocking the Corvus—there has to be a way, no matter what he says—I might be able to transfer that ability once I fall asleep.

  The crowd’s applause yanks me back to the here and now. I grip the guitar’s neck and look up to acknowledge all the whistles and calls for more.

  Now that my senses are back, an awful stench hits me, making the burger in my stomach feel like a pound of wet cement.

  Demons.

  Chapter Twelve

  Ethan

  Fingers tightening on the guitar, my gaze narrows and I quickly scan the room for the source.

  My line of sight stutters for a second when my eyes lock with my brother’s. He’s clapping along with the crowd, but the look on his face reflects more than surprise. His mouth is tense. He’s hurt. Damn. I’d hoped to avoid—

  An extra loud group of guys in the middle of the room pulls my attention away. All five are whooping and clapping and they’re looking right at me. Every single one is a demon. While I see their demonic faces hiding behind the human bodies they’re in, my mind races. How do they know I’m Corvus? Then I remember Nara telling me that Drake’s Furia, the one who’d taken over David, told some Inferni about me. Of course they’d pick a public place to openly goad me.

  I lock my jaw at the same time the Corvus inside me yanks my chin down, then jerks my head toward the main door, letting the bastards know he’s ready when they are.

  I don’t disagree with the Corvus. I want the demons out of the bar and far away from everyone, especially my brother. I exhale a steadying breath, glad I took the stage when I did. It’s better if the demons think I’m here alone.

  I follow the band off the stage, but instead of hanging out in the back room with them afterward for some downtime, I tell them I need to get back out to my brother. Shutting the door behind me, I don’t go to the bar. Instead, I clench my fists and turn down the hall, then take the door that leads into the alley.

  The second I open the door, someone grabs my arm and yanks me outside into the dimly lit space between the buildings.

  Stirred snow cakes the tops of my boots while all five demons quickly circle around me. I mentally call my sword, but my Corvus has other ideas. He casually kicks the snow off, then slowly pivots all the way around, tallying his adversaries; two Inferni have taken up residence inside older men, one is bald and the other has salt and pepper hair. The other three Inferni have taken over college-aged guys: a short one, a tall one, both with brown hair, and a skinny one with red hair. Once the Corvus has taken inventory, he smiles. My breath comes out in foggy gusts and my gut tightens; he’s freaking smiling at them.

  The arrogant bastard’s enjoying the testosterone levels rising inside the demons, and while any other day I wouldn’t mind a good fight, I don’t have time for this shit. My brother could come looking for me any second.

  Let me call my sword, damn you!

  The Corvus makes a dismissive sound in my head. Need I remind you of the deal we made about you letting me handle things? No one’s around. These demon spawns are mine.

  Not this time. I have to get back to my brother—

  Shut up and pay attention. You’re about to get hit in the—

  Pain splinters down my spine. One of the bastards—the skinny guy with red hair—hit the top of my shoulder with his fist, sneering in my ear, “Where’s your sword, Corvus?”

  Pressure wells inside me so fast I barely have time to think. My elbow slams my attacker in the throat, then I pivot and my fist hammers the bald guy’s face. There’s a fine line between my instinctual moves and the Corvus’, but I can tell this is all him. The Corvus doesn’t mess around.

  My lip curls in satisfaction to see them both go down quickly. I know they won’t be groggy for long, but it doesn’t keep me from turning my back on them. I face the other three, fists raised. “Come on, Shitfernis. Give me your best sho—oomph”

  The younger two rush me at the same time, jamming their shoulders into my chest.

  I hit the Dumpster behind me hard, but when I remain on my feet and let out a low laugh, they jump back and cast each other a surprised look.

  Even though my vision is slightly blurred, I vault across the alley, arms outstretched, clotheslining the bastards.

  The instant both demons slam to the ground, I take advantage of the leverage their bodies give me and pull my feet forward, spring-boarding my boots off the on-coming demon’s barrel chest. Curling into a backward flip, I land on the balls of my feet in the slick snow in time to see Mr. Salt and Pepper careen across the alley, his growls of fury cut off when he crashes into the opposite wall, sending brick pieces flying.

  The Corvus chuckles. He’s enjoying the violence. I can’t help but laugh along with him. Amateurs, he mumbles in my head. The moment the thought enters my mind, I stumble forward in excruciating pain. The redhead has jumped on me, jamming his knees straight into my back. At the same time that he hooks an arm around my neck, he slams his fist into my jaw.

  My head snaps sideways with the force, just as another demon roundhouse kicks me in the stomach. Air whooshes from my lungs and the sudden inability to breathe makes it hard to see, let alone focus on the knife’s blade suddenly in my periphery.

  A slicing sensation burns my arm and back, right before another demon joins in, landing a powerful kick into my side. Pull your damn sword, Corvus! I yell at the arrogant spirit inside me.

  The Corvus jerks my hands up and grabs another foot swinging toward my jaw. With lightning speed, he twists the guy’s leg so hard it snaps. While the older man crumples to the ground, groaning, the Corvus jerks my hand back and grabs the skinny guy’s jacket collar, then tosses the guy off me with a flick of my wrist.

&nb
sp; Happy? he snarls in my head.

  I displace my anger at his blasé tone with a fist to the crotch of the guy closest to me. When he bends over to grab his injured junk, I knock away the long knife he used to slice my upper arm. Gritting my teeth through the biting pain in my bicep, I try to stand, but can’t dodge in time to avoid the redhead’s kick to my thigh. His steel-toed boot sends my knees back to the ground.

  While the cold snow seeps into my jeans, the bald guy grabs my neck in another chokehold.

  I growl and grab his arm, sheer fury ripping through me. I want to kill the Corvus right along with these guys. This might be his idea of fun, but the stupid spirit isn’t the one getting treated like a punching bag.

  And then everything goes black and all sounds cease. I stare and blink, but I can’t see, hear or feel a thing.

  “Ethan?”

  The moment someone calls my name, my vision suddenly comes into focus. Along with my sight, the smell of blood and sweat invades my senses. Adrenaline still pumping through me, my breathing is labored and my body aches like hell, but every single demon around me is nursing at least one limb while trying to recover from my apparent ape-shit mode.

  With black eyes, bloodied lips and swollen jaws, they drag themselves back up from the ground. Vengeance fills their battered faces, and they all lunge for me at once, fists flying.

  “Hey, get off him!”

  Everyone freezes for split second, then we all glance toward the top of the alley.

  Matt’s blond hair stands out in the dim light, worry flashing across his face. “Get off him, you bastards!”

  A new level of tension builds inside me. Shit. I forgot about Matt.

  “You know that guy?” The red-haired demon laughs, his gaze shifting to Matt, full of evil intent.

  “Run, Matt,” I yell, but of course he doesn’t listen. The second Matt turns into the alley, I grab the guy’s arm that’s around my neck and shove his two-hundred-pound bulk back as if he weighs nothing. The deal’s off, Corvus. Now give me my— My sword’s in my hand before I finish the sentence. Straightening to my full height, I flip the sword backward and skewer the bald demon rushing me from behind.

  When I look up, the redheaded demon has already knocked Matt to the ground, tossing him down like a piece of used tissue.

  I let out a feral growl and yank the sword from the bald man, then spin and stab the tall dark-haired demon. Before the hobbling salt-and-pepper guy can react, I stab him too. While Matt groans and holds his hand to his head, the short dark-haired guy bolts to the redheaded demon’s side.

  As I approach in determined steps, my sword gripped in my hand, they both step in front of Matt’s crumpled body. They know he’s their only leverage.

  “You’re welcome to try,” I say in a cold tone, stopping a few feet away.

  “You can’t kill both of us before one of us snaps his puny body in half,” the redhead leers, confident in his speed despite the fact his right arm hangs uselessly by his side.

  I hold his gaze for a second, then give him a ruthless smile. “Which one of you wants to go back to Under first?”

  The redhead flicks his eyes to the dark-haired demon. Before he can utter a word, I’m in his face, gripping his neck, my blade already plunged deep into the belly of the shorter one.

  The gutted demon gasps in pain, his face reflecting shock. “Didn’t even see me move, did you?” I say, satisfaction spiraling through me. Sensing just how nasty this one is through my sword’s blade, I twist my blade and turn him into nothing but an explosion of moist particles. I’m happy to send him to Under for an extended stay.

  The second his buddy is obliterated, the redhead uses his only good arm to pound against my arm, but his fist feels like cloth fluttering against me. My smile turns cold. “You messed with the wrong Corvus, demon.”

  He starts to tremble in my grip. “Don’t send me back. He’ll punish me.”

  I tilt my head, curious. I know when my sword sends them to Under, the veil wipes their memories of their time in the Mortal plane, but I didn’t realize they retain their memories from Under when they make their way back. “You remember what happens to you while you’re in Under?”

  He nods. “He tortures those who get sent to Under now. Why do you think so many are fighting so hard to break through the veil? Here, we’re gods. There we’re given incentive to do whatever it takes to stay in the Mortal plane.”

  Sincerity reflects in his words, but viciousness and depravity oozes from every pore. It takes everything inside me not to snap his head clean off his body. “You should’ve thought about that before you jumped me.” I jam my blade into his spineless body, a sense of justice rippling through me, but then I grumble my frustration. “You’ve got to be ’effing kidding me.”

  Unfortunately, my sword reveals the demon inside him has been hanging out in his body too long. This human’s soul has been fully corrupted. Much as I’d like to send the Inferi to Under for a long ass stay, I can’t obliterate the body too. Not without creating a Furia. Sliding my blade free, I grunt my disgust and release my hold, letting his unconscious body crumple to the ground.

  Matt’s groan draws me to his side. Setting my sword down, I help him sit up, then lean him against the brick wall. “Are you okay?”

  He shakes his head for a second, his wide eyes jerking toward the alley. “What happened?”

  I exhale slowly, relieved he apparently didn’t see everything. “I guess my adrenaline kicked in once that guy knocked you down.”

  Matt rubs his temples, his gaze dropping to my sword. “That raven symbol. I’ve seen it before.” Closing his eyes, he shakes his head, then opens them to stare at the blade once more.

  “Where’d it go?” he asks, his disbelieving eyes returning to mine.

  I feign ignorance. “Where’d what go?”

  He gestures to my side. “There was a sword right beside you.”

  “That guy hit your head hard enough to knock you out for a minute. You’re groggy, Matt.”

  “I saw it!” he insists, quickly scrambling to his feet. The second he stands, he sees the unconscious redhead lying on the ground behind me. “That’s him. That’s the guy who came after me.”

  I grip Matt’s arm, intending to lead him out of the alley. “I know. It’s probably best we’re not around when these guys come to.”

  Matt pulls free of my hold. “We should call the police. They attacked both of us.” I turn to face him and Matt’s eyes widen as I step into a sliver of light coming from a building across the mall. “You’ve been stabbed. Jesus, Ethan!”

  I move the torn material back and glance at the cut on my arm. It’ll be healed by tomorrow. “It’s just a surface wound. Listen, Matt, I hit these guys hard enough to knock them out. I’d rather them not see us when they wake up. They could press charges.”

  “We should be pressing charges.”

  I shake my head. “It’ll be their word against mine, and since they’re all knocked out, it might not look so good for me.”

  He stares at the fallen guys and mumbles, “Wasn’t there five of them?”

  “No. Just four,” I say, leading him away from the alley.

  Matt looks like he wants to argue, but he lets me direct him back around to the front of McCormicks. Once we reach a pool of light near the main door, I say, “I think we should chalk this up to a life lesson about staying away from alleys.”

  “I saw a sword sitting in the snow beside you, Ethan.” Matt spreads his hands wide in front of him. “It was about this long and it had a symbol on the blade near the hilt, the same one I’ve been seeing for a while. It’s a raven yin-yang design.”

  I rub my jaw. “I’m familiar with that symbol and a sword, but not a real one. What do you mean you’ve been seeing it for a while?”

  His gaze narrows. “Tell me where the sword went first. Before I blacked out, I saw you use it on at least three—well, maybe it was two—of those guys. If you gutted them, how is it possible that they’re sti
ll alive?”

  I raise an eyebrow. “It was dark in the alley, and I had several guys jump me at once. One of them pulled a long knife. What you probably saw was me getting cut, not them.”

  A determined look crosses Matt’s face. “I saw what I saw, Ethan. I might’ve blacked out for a minute, but when I opened my eyes again, you were squatting next to me, and that sword was on the ground beside you.”

  I wrack my brain and decide appealing to his logical side is the best course. “If the sword was on the ground, where did it go? You would’ve seen me pick it up. Did you?”

  My question draws a frown from Matt, doubt creeping into his eyes for the first time. “I—didn’t see you pick it up.” Sighing, he pushes a shaky hand through his short hair. “I’ve seen that symbol before.”

  I quickly turn and pull my shirt up so he can see the sword tattoo on my back. “This is probably where you’ve seen it, and maybe even where you got a sword idea in your head. You must’ve seen me changing in gym.”

  “I guess it’s possible I saw it while passing you in the locker room during class change over. Though I think I would’ve stopped and stared. That’s a lot of ink. An impressive tattoo for sure.” When I lower my shirt and turn back around, he asks, “What does that symbol mean?”

  “It represents balance and protection.”

  His blond eyebrows pull together. “That’s good, right? So why have I been seeing it flash through my head? Well, what I see is similar, but not exactly the same. In my mind, the symbol used to look like the one on your tattoo. Then later, I saw the black bird breaking into hundreds of smaller birds. For a while I saw both images, but lately it’s just the second one.”

  “You said the image flashed through your head. How long have you been seeing it?”