Demon Bound

by Meljean Brook

  Then he froze, straightened, and pointed at her. “You.”

  She lifted her brows.

  “I love you.”

  “Oh,” she said, her hands flying to her chest to keep her heart within it.

  “That’s right. And we’ve got about ten minutes before the sun sets in Turkey. We’ll be fast.”

  “No,” she said as he strode toward her, and he stopped. “Let me . . . do this.”

  Her fingers found the buttons at her neck.

  “Alice,” he breathed, and then surprised her by pressing a kiss to her throat.

  Why had she been certain he would only stand and watch? Had she assumed he would look at her like he had his pinup girls?

  She should have known better. With every inch she exposed, he was there, worshipping it with his mouth. He replaced every button with his lips, followed silk with his hands.

  And by the time he pinned her to the wall and told her she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, she believed him.

  CHAPTER 22

  Even a dress of spider silk did not make for easy swimming. When her legs tangled in her skirts for the third time, Alice exchanged it for a short black chemise, but kept her drawers and stockings.

  Jake glanced over, the glow from his eyes illuminating the sediment clouding the water. This should clear out when we hit the lower current, he signed. Then, How would you have managed if you were here with Drifter?

  Though she would have worn her swimming trousers, Alice sent him an image of a swimsuit she’d once seen on a Brazilian beach.

  Then he’s never coming treasure hunting with us. Okay, see anything?

  She shook her head, and held out her hand.

  He teleported them deeper. The visibility was better; she could see the bedrock now, stones worn smooth. Ship debris gathered in front of uneven shelves and the odd protruding boulder, and was held in place by the current.

  The strait was narrow, and relatively shallow—and had been heavily traveled for thousands of years, strategically important for both military and commercial interests. Any temple of size and distinction wouldn’t have gone unnoticed. Perhaps before the technological advances of the past century—but not after submarines and side-scan sonar had been developed. And because of the history of the strait, maritime archaeologists and salvagers had combed the seafloor extensively, searching for wreckage and jetsam.

  Alice turned to Jake. How near are we to the estimated location?

  Right on top of it. Should we jump around this area, take a look from a few different angles?

  Her nod started them on a dizzying trek though the water, but after fifteen jumps that had taken them from one bank of the strait to the other, still nothing had appeared to her as out of the ordinary. They began a searching pattern, moving with the current—then against it—all without success.

  The night had half-gone when Jake teleported back to their starting point. He floated on his stomach, staring at the seafloor with his brows drawn.

  He turned his head to look at her. Do you know what? he signed. I’m an idiot.

  His Gift pulsed once, twice. He didn’t vanish, and Alice had just begun to frown when he pulsed it rapidly again, twelve, thirteen times—

  And disappeared.

  A second later, she almost sucked in a lungful of water when he reappeared in front of her, grinning. He smashed his lips to hers, and then she was wobbling, dripping water onto a damp white floor, dragging in a breath of freezing stale air. The temple spun around her as Jake swept her up, his deep laugh echoing off the decorated marble walls.

  This time, she kissed him back.

  But they didn’t linger over it; he was just as eager to explore as she.

  It was remarkably like the enormous chamber in Tunisia, but of white marble instead of black granite. A dais and the black sarcophagus stood where the statue had been, but the colonnade around the room was similar, as were the friezes lining the walls. For a long moment, Alice simply turned in a circle, taking it all in.

  She looked over at Jake, who’d tilted his head back to frown at the domed ceiling. “How did you find it? Why were we idiots?”

  “Because I was thinking like me instead of like Zakril. He could teleport, and his Gift was working with stone. And he didn’t want Anaria to escape once he’d let her out of the sarcophagus. She’d Fallen, so she didn’t have an ability to teleport . . . so, I realized, why wouldn’t he just make a hole beneath the seafloor? And I can’t jump into anything solid; if I try, I just don’t go. So I kept trying until I hit the pocket of air.”

  Incredible. He was simply incredible. “How deep was it?”

  “Not deep enough. Look.” He pointed up, and Alice saw the water seeping through tiny cracks in the dome. “Maybe two thousand years ago it was, but the current has worn the seafloor above it down to about six feet of basalt. I’m guessing the dome butts right up against the bedrock, and that’s not going to be enough to support the water above it. Not for much longer. One little earthquake, and it’s probably coming down—if this chamber doesn’t fill up with seepage first.”

  Yes. She could hear it now, when she listened closely. A drip here and there. Could see it in the faint paths trickling down the walls.

  She looked toward the dais. “Will you think me heartless if we do not immediately return to tell Michael we have found his sister, and—”

  “Record the site first?” Jake grinned, and his camera appeared in his hand. “Honestly, goddess—I’d call you heartless if we didn’t.”

  Once she’d taken a closer look at the friezes, Alice wished she’d been heartless. She held her sketchbook, but couldn’t bring herself to draw them.

  These were not scenes of Guardian history, but Anaria’s and Zakril’s history. As children, happily laughing as they shared a bowl of dates. Two young lovers in a field of exquisitely carved wildflowers. A wedding, and a bed. Zakril, holding Anaria as she wept over Michael’s broken body, the dragon limp behind them. Anaria, smiling up at Zakril in front of Michael’s temple in Caelum. And there were more—dozens more, of them fighting side-by-side, making love, or simply looking at each other, sharing a private joke, a moment of pain, a moment of comfort.

  Jake came up beside her. No longer with his camera, she saw.

  Her throat felt raw when she said, “He must have loved her very much. And how very hard he must have prayed that being here would remind her of what they had.”

  “Yes. What now, goddess?”

  She closed her eyes, saw Zakril’s skeleton pinned behind her lids. “I want to leave her here to let this place fall down on top of her. But that cannot be my decision to make.”

  “Yeah, it can. No one knows we’re here.”

  She smiled faintly, shook her head. “No.”

  “All right, then. How about this—we leave it for now, and while we’re still both pumped full of this righteous anger on Zakril’s behalf, go and beat the shit out of Teqon.”

  “Yes,” Alice murmured. “Why not?”

  Alice had always loved predawn in the Egyptian desert. The cool air, the quiet.

  With her Guardian hearing, it was not as silent as it had once been—but the sight of the full moon setting behind the pyramids affected her exactly as it had more than a century ago, and her heart still skipped into her throat as the moon seemed to slide down Khafre’s steep side before falling into bed at Khufu’s base.

  She sighed with pleasure and turned to Jake.

  “This expression you’re seeing on my face,” he said without looking at her, “is called ‘Whoa, damn.’ ”

  “Yes.” She tucked her hand in the crook of his elbow. “We should have chosen another location to prepare for our attack on Teqon. It is difficult to maintain righteous anger here.”

  “Yeah. I suppose it is a good place to soften me up, though. Where you might say something like, ‘Just in case Khavi was right, and your heart is going to be chopped in two, why don’t you let me face Teqon alone?’ ”

 
Alice flattened her lips, tugged her hand back. “Blast you.”

  “Oh, come on. You don’t even sound angry.”

  No, she could not be. But she could be irritated that it was so. “What a stubborn donkey you are.”

  “Because I won’t let you do what you think is best for me?”

  “It is best for me that you live.” She crossed her arms, frowning at the pyramids across the stretch of desert. “With Lucy and all of her children in his home, I will know exactly where Teqon is, where he moves. I can shoot through his walls, and slow him before I draw close enough for him to retaliate. I will weave webs at his doors to catch him should he try to escape. I will have him at my mercy within moments.”

  “And then you torture him.”

  “If I must.”

  “I’ll do it, Alice.”

  She smiled. “And now who is trying to do what he thinks is best for the other?”

  He fell into frustrated silence. In the distance, a call to prayer sounded, signaling the approaching dawn.

  “I wonder, however,” Alice said when it faded, “if I have not been looking at Teqon upside-down, as well. Because he has had so much power over me, I haven’t thought of him as a pawn.”

  “Belial’s pawn?” Jake sounded thoughtful. “Yeah. How much is Teqon really willing to endure if whatever he gains isn’t personally for him? You wonder if a demon is willing to take one for the team.”

  “Yes. And I think that because I’ve been afraid of him, I never considered the possibility that he might be a coward. Perhaps we don’t need to torture him now. Perhaps we just need to give him something to look forward to.”

  “You mean, scare the shit out of him.”

  “And if we fail, perhaps we can torture him next week.”

  “Right on. Now we just need—” He broke off, gave her a considering look. “You don’t still have that dress you wore in Hell, do you?”

  “Yes.” Alice grimaced. “But I have not had an opportunity to wash the smell out.”

  “Good—especially if some of that smell is from a female hellhound.” He shoved his hands into his pockets and looked out over the pyramids, grinning. “You never know what kind of bribe might come in handy.”

  Though her plan of attack played out very much as she’d told Jake it would, Alice had not expected that she would be literally looking at Teqon upside-down.

  But the most sensible thing to do with the demon after she’d wrapped his body in enough silk to form a cocoon was to hang him from the date tree in his private courtyard. He’d struggled against the web, at first. And when he stopped, she feared it was not because he’d given up, but because he’d realized they did not intend to kill him.

  And demons, unfortunately, did not appear to have an irrational fear of spiders.

  Hellhounds were another matter entirely.

  Sir Pup in his demon form stood taller than Alice. The sun gleamed over his scales and the barbed spikes that ran the length of his enormous body. He did not growl, but stood salivating as Alice asked whether he preferred to eat demons from the feet to the head, or the top down.

  “I suppose you would have to start at the feet,” she mused. “And stop below the heart, or else it would kill him. Once it all grew back, however, you could begin again.”

  The hellhound stretched his left head forward and took the whole of the demon’s head between his jaws, as if measuring the bite. He drew back, swiped his tongue over Teqon’s too-handsome face, and snapped his teeth closed a centimeter from the demon’s nose.

  The demon’s pulse raced. But, Alice realized with growing dismay, this fear was not the whimpering terror that she’d hoped to see. Teqon was afraid because any sensible creature would be—but with an enduring strength and resolution behind it.

  Even if Sir Pup did eat him slowly, he would still not release her.

  Very well, then. She reached out with her Gift, holding it steady as she called the widows to her. “I could have them come and devour your eyes,” Alice said softly, “but I do not see the point in it, and I do so hate to be wasteful.”

  “It is good that you do not leave them.” Teqon’s eyes flared. “I would rip off their legs, one by one.”

  “Would you? Sir Pup, his left leg. Just the bone.”

  They’d agreed upon a signal that would let the hellhound know if any command she issued was designed to merely frighten the demon and not be carried out.

  She did not give it.

  Sir Pup lifted his heads, closed his jaws over silk, and bit down. There was a snap—two, three. Teqon hissed.

  Alice crouched until she was even with his face. “I don’t know if you can feel empathy. I imagine that, despite knowing that what you feel now is similar to what the spiders would, you’d still enjoy inflicting that pain.”

  “Perhaps,” Teqon said through his clenched teeth, “I would not enjoy it so much now.”

  “Perhaps,” Alice agreed. “Do you know, when I was in Hell I witnessed the oddest thing: there were demons who were concerned—horrified—when they saw that a young winged child had been injured. I’d have thought they would rip his wings off, as if he were no more than a fly.”

  “No.” The demon’s heart pounded. “You saw a winged child?”

  “I held him in my arms,” she said in the most wistful tone she could muster, and rose to her feet again. Her stunned gaze met Jake’s. He’d been standing silently behind her.

  Oh, dear God. Dear God. There was something Teqon wanted. But how could she possibly use this?

  She didn’t know. But if she did not try, she would gain nothing. “That is why you follow Belial, is it not? In hope that when he ascends to the throne, he will give you children.”

  Teqon remained silent. Alice held Jake’s gaze, seeking inspiration. He gave a tiny shake of his head, and the tags beneath his shirt clinked softly.

  And it came to her easily, as if it had always been lurking there.

  Jake had given her his heart in return for that gift. And Michael had already cut out his own—metaphorically—when he’d given the order for Anaria’s execution.

  “And yet,” Alice said, turning to face Teqon, “if you destroy Michael’s heart, you destroy your best chance for having those children.”

  “I think not, Mrs. Grey.”

  “You will, when I tell you of a woman in Hell, who was the one to give the prophecy to Belial. The woman who told us that Michael’s heart was his sister—once Lucifer’s pupil, and the mother of the nephilim. It is she who already has the knowledge to allow demons their children.” She leaned in close. “I know where Anaria is, demon. I know where she waits.”

  It was, she thought, the name that did it. Teqon hesitated, but only long enough to say, “I do not agree yet, Guardian. You must release me, and then I will see if this alteration can be made to our agreement.”

  Though she wanted to take a wary step back, Alice held her ground. “You cannot decide now, demon?”

  “Or maybe,” Jake said, “he can’t make the decision on his own.”

  “So we let him down. And that was when he talked to a demon buddy on his cell phone.”

  From the lowest step of Michael’s temple, Jake watched that sink in on the faces of the Guardians in front of him. Some of them, anyway. Michael’s expression hadn’t changed since Alice had announced they’d found Anaria. Irena had grinned through the description of how they’d caught Teqon in the web and his fear of Sir Pup, but her face had slowly darkened through the rest. Pim looked concerned, Drifter thoughtful.

  “You got any inkling of who it was he called?” he asked.

  “Nope. And he was speaking demon so fast I didn’t pick up anything. But I’m guessing he was told what offer to come back to us with—and that was the change to Alice’s bargain.”

  “Which is?” Selah’s gaze was concerned when she looked to Alice.

  Jake had noted who hadn’t appeared so understanding when Alice had explained what her bargain entailed. And they could all go
take a fucking leap into Caelum’s sea, and keep on swimming.

  “Michael’s heart, or Anaria.” She stood straight, her hands clasped behind her back as if she were at ease. But Jake could see how her fingers were clenched. “And both in the same condition.”

  “Bloody?” Irena’s smile was feral.

  Alice didn’t return the smile as she shook her head. “They must be outside of the container they come in. Michael’s heart from his chest, or Anaria freed from the sarcophagus.”

  “Now why does that matter? You figure demons ain’t going to be able to open it?”

  “Yes,” Michael said. “Only the grigori, the nephilim, and Lucifer would be capable.” He met Alice’s eyes. “If it is what you wish, I will open it for you.”

  Alice’s fingers twisted tighter. “Yes, well—that is why we are here. It is not my decision to make alone. We cannot know the consequences of releasing her.”

  “I can imagine one.” Drifter had his thumbs in his suspenders, his gaze intent on Alice’s face. “And that is, Teqon isn’t able to hold her, she takes up with the nephilim, and the vampires they’ve been slaughtering suddenly have a whole lot more trouble to deal with.”

  Selah paled. Becca shifted her weight from side to side, looking uneasy.

  “And it means you’re turning over a living person to a demon,” Pim said.

  “Demon-spawn to a demon.” Irena arched her brows in response to the chorus of indrawn breaths. “If you give a dead body to him, will it still fulfill your bargain?”

  “No,” Alice said.

  Irena shrugged. “So you will release her to him, and we will hunt her down.”

  “She was once trapped with her back against a stone wall, and facing twenty of Lucifer’s sentinels. She fought rather than teleport,” Michael said softly. “She will not be so easy to hunt. Or to slay.”

  “Will she be coming after us if we don’t fall in line?” Drifter asked.

  “I cannot say. But if we oppose her—and if she decides to lead the nephilim, we must oppose her—she will strike back.”