Demon Bound

by Meljean Brook

  “Why?”

  “Because Teqon has your soul by the balls. Because your husband was a prick. Because I’m a dickhead. Because lately it’s hard to tell if we’re just grunts in a war where everything we believe we’re fighting for is going to be blown out from under us by the guys higher up the chain.”

  So this was partially for him. Alice tilted her head back and shrieked. Short, piercing—and she could not hold it. She caught a breath, laughing.

  He grinned down at her. “Come on. That felt good, didn’t it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Better than settling your nerves?”

  Her laugh died. Familiar anxiety and anger tightened around her chest. This time, her scream ripped at her throat, went on until she had no air in her lungs.

  When she finished, Jake was rigid above her. “Better?”

  “Yes.” Her voice was hoarse.

  “Good. Could you ask Irena to remove her giant knife from between my legs?”

  Oh, dear God in Heaven. Alice twisted beneath him.

  Irena crouched beside the table, her eyes burning. The tattoos on her arms coiled like snakes preparing to strike. “This is of your choosing, Alice?”

  Her mouth was too dry to answer. She nodded.

  Irena stood. “When you have finished, you will come to my forge. Jake, too.”

  He rolled off her as soon as Irena’s footsteps faded, and cupped himself through his jeans. “Oh, thank you, Onan. Everything’s there.” He glanced over at Alice, who was still trying to bring moisture up to her tongue. “Whoa boy. She scared you?”

  “Yes.” Alice swallowed, sat up, began straightening her skirts. “But not for myself. The next time I scream with you on top of me, we will put up the shielding spell first. I suppose that scene was not pleasant for her to come upon.”

  Jake frowned thoughtfully and turned his head, as if looking after Irena. “What happened to her? Was it that bad?”

  “I am not certain.” Alice stood. “But there are times I suspect it was worse than I imagine.”

  CHAPTER 20

  Alice projected an image of Irena’s smithy to Jake, and they were immediately surrounded by the scent of soot, smelted ore, and a dirt floor.

  Even with the wobbling, it was much more convenient than traveling through the Baltic Gate and flying northeast for an hour. Irena had not yet arrived, but at eight times Alice’s and Jake’s combined ages, Irena was twice as fast; she would not be long.

  “She should only be thirty minutes,” Alice said, holding lightly on to his arm as she waited for the disorientation to pass.

  Unaffected by the jump, Jake nodded, firelight casting uncertain shadows over his face.

  There was, as always, a small fire burning in the hearth at the center of the lodge, and coals glowing in the furnaces squatting along the northern walls. Wind whistled across the ceiling hoods that released smoke into the air; sleet clinked against the metal roof as if the sky rained crushed glass.

  “I thought she usually sculpted weird angry things,” Jake said, looking behind Alice.

  “She does.” Now that her feet were solid beneath her, Alice felt confident enough to turn.

  Her breath strangled in her throat.

  “That’s more minimalist. Or abstract.” He approached the large steel cube, walked around the corner of it. He slid his palm up and down the smooth surface, then tapped it with his knuckles. A dull, hollow echo sounded through the thick metal. “Okay, and still weird.”

  He glanced back at her, and his amusement slowly faded. His hands pushed into his pockets. His gaze ran over the cube again, this time incisive, measuring.

  Oh, blast Irena for forcing this. She’d known what Jake would see when they arrived.

  “You know what this is?”

  “Yes.” Alice laced her fingers together over her midriff, strived for an even tone. “It is for me.”

  “Because of your bargain?”

  She nodded sharply.

  “What—to make sure you never fulfill it, she offered this as an alternative to killing you?” He teleported so close she had to tilt her head back to see his face. “Do I need to get you out of here?”

  She felt his concern, as if he thought Irena was planning to push her into an oven. “No,” she said, but knew it would not reassure him. “She likely only intends to show me that the box is ready.”

  Though he didn’t move, he seemed to stagger. “This was your idea?”

  “Yes.”

  He stared at her, his jaw clenching and unclenching. “This is your solution. The way you plan to make immortality last as long as eternity.”

  She could not look beyond him, could not avoid his gaze. “You don’t approve?”

  “Well, let’s see.”

  He brought his hand to her cheek and they were plunged into a spinning darkness. His eyes glowed, red as a demon’s, lighting smooth metal walls.

  “Oh, nice. Comfy. Yeah, I could see you living here.” He let her go to walk the breadth of the cube—four steps. “What is it, twelve by twelve? You have room to set up an armchair here, your tub over there. A spider or two in the corner, and books in your hammerspace. Everything you’ll ever need, and a great view, too.”

  Alice closed her eyes. “That is enough, I think.”

  He took her hand and dropped it as soon as they were in Irena’s forge again, the heated air filling her lungs. He crossed his forearms over his chest, his stance rigid.

  “So, this is your ‘I give up’ box.”

  She pushed her response past her dizziness. “No.”

  “No? How is it any different than what you did with Teqon when you made your bargain? When you called yourself a coward? This box isn’t fighting. This is deciding that ‘what the hell, I can’t beat him, I’m going to stick my head in the sand.’ Why try if you’re fucked anyway?”

  She had nothing to say as he paced back and forth with his hands linked behind his head. She couldn’t argue with him. It wasn’t different than with Teqon; it was cowardly.

  He spun back to face her. “Is that what I am?”

  She stared at him, not following, but certain that she didn’t want to jump where he had. Not if it had created that stab of pain in his psychic scent. “I don’t under—”

  “Your ‘I give up’ bang. A week ago, you said you couldn’t touch me. I told you if you’re screwed anyway, you might as well grab on and ride. Well, you did, didn’t you? Right after you got that prophecy. So what am I—a couple of fucks before you lock yourself up? You lose all hope, and think, ‘All right, I’ll bang Jake’? Or would anyone have done?” He gave a hard laugh, spread his hands wide. “Oh, right. There’s a bonus with me—when you’re ready to go, you can just ask me to teleport you into the box. I’ll do anything to help, right?”

  The swirling emotions raged like a maelstrom inside her. She would scream if she opened her mouth, and so her denial was a faint shake of her head.

  These were the same questions she’d been trying to avoid in her courtyard. And if she hadn’t demanded silence, she would have had answers for him.

  Jake let his arms slowly fall back to his sides. The acrid anger in his psychic scent drew in on itself, and she tasted the sour fear beneath it before he shielded. He turned away from her, slid his hand over his head.

  “Jesus,” he said softly. “The thought of you in there messes me up, but I shouldn’t have—”

  “Don’t.” She didn’t want an apology.

  She wanted—needed—everything to settle.

  He nodded without looking back at her, his psychic scent heavy with regret. “Look, I just . . . I’m gonna take off. Tell Irena I’m sorry.”

  Alice smiled thinly. “Why should you be? I believe she is the one—Oh.”

  Sorry, not because he’d disappeared before Irena had come—but because he’d taken her box with him.

  “That was unkind,” Alice said when Irena came through the door in a gust of wind and ice.

  “But necessary, yes? And
you are both young, so you will quickly recover.” Irena threw back her white hood, stomped snow from her boots. “He has the cube, or you do?”

  “He does.”

  “Good. I knew he would take it. You are a fool, Alice.”

  “Yes. But only because I am here and not flying to Caelum to find him.”

  “So we agree.” Irena grinned as she moved to the hearth fire and stirred it, sending sparks dancing into the air. “And there will be no more talk of imprisoning yourself?”

  “I was unaware that I spoke of it so often,” Alice said dryly.

  “You did not have to. It has always been here. In twenty years, I have not looked at you without seeing you inside it, and you have not looked at me without thinking of it.” A jab with her poker sent up another shower of sparks. “Did you think I would like creating such a thing for you, knowing its purpose?”

  “You create weapons knowing their purpose.”

  “Now you are impertinent. Someone has said they care for you, and so you revert to your novice days.” Irena’s eyes were hard. “Should I lecture you on the difference between forging swords to slay demons and forming a prison for a friend?”

  “No.” Alice sighed. “Twenty years ago, it seemed a sensible solution.”

  “Only an odd-brained ox would think it sensible.”

  “You agreed to it.”

  “You were petrified with fear, certain Teqon would have your soul in the frozen field the moment you left Caelum. You were like the novices who will not take their first dive without a mentor on the ground to catch them. A sensible novice knows that she will suffer the same injuries crashing into the ground as into her mentor, and that if she insists otherwise, two will be injured instead of one. But you were not sensible.”

  Alice stared into the flames until her vision blurred. What a strange picture of herself this presented. She’d always thought she’d formed a reasonable plan despite her fear, not as a result of it. But did reason ever come from fear?

  She couldn’t deny she had used the box as a safety net, as a way to exert some control over her fate. But it was a net that would hurt as much to land on as the ground—and hurt others as well. Irena would have had to build it, someone would have had to teleport her into it, and everyone would have known that she was isolated inside, slowly going mad.

  In the end, it would be no different than the frozen field—except that she would have laid an additional burden on her friends by asking them to help her into it.

  She blew out a soft breath. “I suppose a sensible mentor says she will catch the novice, but steps aside at the last minute rather than be smashed.”

  “She steps aside,” Irena said, “because only a stupid novice would not be more sensible on the second dive. You are odd, not stupid.”

  “Yet I am a fool?” she asked, smiling.

  “If Jake left, that means you did not tell him you no longer intended to use the box. That you had already decided against it, but were unsure if that decision came from reason rather than dread.” When Alice didn’t respond, Irena tilted her head, examined her face. “Why is he the one you test yourself against? I know very well that you think for yourself and that your mind is your own—yet when you were uncertain, you measured yourself against him.”

  “I do not know.” When she had more time to consider the question, when everything she felt for him settled, she might discover the answer. “Or do you mean: Why him . . . and not you?”

  Irena’s eyes widened and she burst into laughter.

  Alice had not expected more than a chuckle. Surprised, she asked, “Would that be impossible?”

  “Yes.” There was a feral edge to Irena’s grin. “We do not have a common measure. Hate does not drive you; compassion does. A sense of fairness. You slay demons because you care for humans, because you know they are evil, because they take advantage of and twist everything good.”

  Alice’s eyebrows furrowed. “We all hate them.”

  “You despise what they are, what they do.” Green fire burned in her eyes. “I hate them. Every single demon, and every single drop of blood in their veins. You thrill at a fight, and relish a victory. I relish the break of their bones, the rending of their flesh—and above all, the kill.” She drew back slightly, her gaze steady on Alice’s face. “And so you would not be comfortable with my unit of measure.”

  “No, I would not,” Alice agreed. She understood that hate—she felt it for Belial. But she could not conceive of it on such a wide scale—not against demons who had not personally harmed those she loved. Hate was too intimate.

  And that much hate sounded far too exhausting.

  She hesitated before asking, “And Michael?”

  Irena’s expression cooled. “If you decide to fulfill your bargain, and Guardians are queuing to take your head . . . I will no longer be standing in line.”

  CHAPTER 21

  After three hours of flying and passing through several Gates trying to find Jake, she had never wished for the Gift of teleportation more.

  It would not be much longer until he found her, she knew. In a little more than an hour, the sun would have set over Turkey, and they would begin searching for Anaria’s temple.

  And when the sun rose again, she would ask him to take her to Cairo—and harden her stomach to do what she must. She would have her Sunday in Giza.

  She would have not just one, but as many as she liked.

  Dawn had just come to San Francisco when she located Selah in the Special Investigations warehouse. A moment later, Alice was wobbling behind Jake, who sat on a flat cot with his wings folded at his naked back. A computer topped a small cart in front of him.

  He didn’t startle, but slowly stood in his jeans, vanishing his wings as he turned to face them.

  Face her, Alice realized. Selah had already gone.

  She linked her hands together. “I—Your wings looked well.”

  “Yeah,” he said, his voice flat. “They aren’t there yet, but they’re close.”

  “How close? You should form them again, so they finish.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Oh, but—” She stopped. No, she would not argue. She would irritate herself if she argued. As it was, she feared she’d begun to flit. She moved to the nearest wall in order to cover it. “You have a great many books here.” The usual variety of literature, the expected archaeology texts—but also a large number of titles regarding military history and tactics. “You do not keep them in your cache?”

  “No. They aren’t mine.”

  “Oh. Scavenged?” Left behind in other quarters after the Ascension—and likely why he didn’t carry them in his cache. If anything happened to him, they would be lost.

  “Most of them. Some from the Archives. Are you here about my books?”

  “No. I—” She turned, and encountered a pair of large breasts in a tight white shirt, partially unbuttoned to reveal an extraordinary cleavage. Alice took in the arched back, short red pants, curled red hair, and pouting lips. “Oh.”

  Across the room, a brunette slinked in a nightdress and stockings. A voluptuous blonde in black heels straddled a motorcycle seat. And taped on the ceiling above his cot, a laughing blonde tried to hold down the white skirt billowing up around her legs.

  She’d begun to walk over, craning her neck to get a better look at the woman’s dress, when they all vanished.

  “Alice. They aren’t—” Jake closed his eyes, pushed out a breath between his teeth. A dull flush stained his cheeks. “They’re just here. I don’t even notice them anymore.”

  “I see.” She frowned, studying him. “When we were in Seattle, you took the shape of an actor. Why do you not do that more often?”

  “I didn’t know you wanted me to,” he said stiffly.

  “Oh, no. I do not. But during your free hours, it would have been very easy for you to meet women who looked like these women. And they would be willing.”

  He frowned. “Yeah, and that’d make me the biggest
asshole on the planet. Speaking of, I’m not giving you back your box.”

  “Very well. I do not believe I have a use for it.” She sat on the cot, her back straight. “I have not for some time.”

  “Gee, that’s good to know now.”

  “Yes, I thought it would be. You should also know, however, that you were wrong. It was not my ‘I give up’ box. It is my ‘I am scared senseless’ box.”

  Warmth melted into his voice, and dulled the edge of his sarcasm. “Then maybe you should make it your ‘I need to scream somewhere I won’t risk Jake’s balls’ box.”

  She glanced at him from the side of her lashes, then quickly tore her gaze from his bare chest. For at least five more minutes, she should not let herself be distracted by lustful thoughts. “With her Gift, Irena could still come through the metal.”

  “The shielded ‘I need to scream’ box.”

  Alice smiled, and to avoid his nude torso, she looked at his computer. Another map filled the screen, but in this one, she recognized several of the pinpointed locations. “What is this?”

  Jake hesitated.

  She glanced back at him. “What?”

  “I, uh—Okay. I was thinking about the temples, and those cylinders with the spells, and how that one cylinder hooked to the last temple that Zakril built—the one we’re looking for now. But there were all those other cylinders around them, and we know which temples at least three of them coordinated with. And I was thinking about how, despite everything else being symmetrical in Khavi’s place, those cylinders were randomly positioned. But they weren’t random.”

  Alice frowned at the computer display. Each pinpoint, she saw, was overlaid by another. She shook her head. “Are you saying that the locations of the cylinders in the room correspond with the temple locations?”

  “Yep. It didn’t work at first. The three reference points were a little off, and the farther away from the reference points, the bigger the difference. But then I realized I wasn’t accounting for the Earth’s curvature. So I adjusted, and they lined right up.”

  Her heart pounded. There were several points that had no temple marked. The Indonesian islands, Siberia, South America. She either hadn’t felt the disturbance, or the spell hadn’t needed to be repaired—and so she’d never found them.