Demon of Vengeance: Chronicles of the Fallen, Book 4

by Brenda Huber

  “Yeah, I’m not really sure how. I just realized suddenly I was back to normal.” She shrugged, and eased him around until he dropped back on the bed. “You changed back too.”

  He took a deep breath, stretched, and grimaced, his hand going to the fresh bandage on his chest.

  She worried her bottom lip. She shouldn’t have left him alone. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, just a catch. By morning I’ll be good as new.” He patted the bed. “Come here.”

  “That’s probably not a good idea. You need your rest.”

  “I can’t rest until I have you in my arms. I need to know you’re safe.”

  Melting.

  She couldn’t even fight it anymore, was tired of trying. She turned the lamp off and climbed up on the bed beside him.

  “Where’d you get the clothes?” He fingered the collar of the oversized T-shirt.

  “Carly asked Niklas to conjure them for me.”

  “You like boxers and muscle shirts. I can—”

  “No, this is fine for tonight.” She snuggled up to his side, mindful of Gideon’s comment about conjuring in an injured state.

  “You could always take it off,” he suggested, the leer in his voice unmistakable.

  “I don’t think so. You’re in no condition to—”

  “Wanna try and find out?”

  “Sebastian! No!” She poked his hip, gently.

  He chuckled and cuddled her closer. Phoebe wrapped herself around him, careful of his bandages. The silence and the darkened room was like a cocoon, the sense of safety lulled her.

  Just when she thought he must have drifted off again, he whispered against her hair, “Did you really give Xander a black eye? Or was I hallucinating?”

  “Sebastian,” she hissed, mortified. But a long moment later, ashamed of herself, she whispered, “Yes.”

  He started chuckling. And he got louder. And louder. Until he was laughing so hard and so loud the bed shook and she feared the others would come to check on him.

  “Go to sleep.” She harrumphed and turned over, giving him her back.

  He curled himself around her, snuggled her close and—still chuckling—whispered in her ear, “That’s my girl.”

  * * * * *

  The next day, just as he’d predicted, Sebastian was as good as new. His chest now bore a long, fresh pink scar and he was a little sore. But other than that, he was completely healed. Phoebe, apparently, couldn’t get over it. She kept asking if he was all right. And she’d insisted on looking at his chest, several times. Not that he minded. Sooner or later, he’d convince her he was one hundred percent, and he’d seduce her back into bed if he had to.

  He sat on a log swing in Gideon’s backyard watching the river slowly drift by. Phoebe lay beside him, her head on his lap.

  They’d spent the better part of the day with the others. The group as a whole had been giving Phoebe a crash course in demonology. They’d told her about various other demon species, explaining abilities and trying to determine if she had any gifts of her own. So far, the only thing they’d pinned down for sure was her speed.

  “I’m sorry about your farm, Sebastian.”

  A heavy weight settled upon his chest at the reminder. He’d been doing a pretty good job of not thinking about it. But it had been like an elephant in the room. His place was gone. His haven. Yeah, he was disappointed. Sad. Pissed off, even.

  But then he looked at the woman in his arms, and he smiled.

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  She frowned up at him. “But it does! How—”

  He shushed her by laying a finger to her lips. “It doesn’t matter because I still have you. You’re safe, and that is all that matters.” He feathered his fingers through her hair thoughtfully. “We’ll rebuild. Either there, or somewhere else. We’ll make a home for both of us.”

  Tears pooled in her eyes, and she blinked, turning her head away.

  “Sound good?” he asked, suddenly uncertain.

  “Sounds good,” she echoed, her voice a little hoarse.

  Smiling, Sebastian turned his gaze to the river. But then he glanced back down. If she could shimmer, he could send her away in an emergency. He wouldn’t have to worry so much if they were ever separated and pinned down like they had been before.

  “Try to shimmer, just one more time,” he urged.

  She heaved an irritated sigh and sat up. “I can’t.”

  “Have you tried, honestly?”

  “Stop nagging,” she snapped.

  “But you should be able to shimmer. At least, in a limited capacity. All Carpathï can. It should be an inherited trait. You’ve closed your mind.”

  She turned away to gaze out over the river, and ignored him. He studied her face. She had dark shadows beneath her eyes, her skin looked faintly gray, and her cheeks were hollow.

  “Are you feeling all right?”

  “I’m fine.” But her expression was pinched, belying her words.

  “You hardly touched your lunch.” Come to think of it, she’d skipped breakfast completely. He narrowed his eyes.

  “Too busy talking, I guess.”

  She had yet to talk about Ricardo. He’d tried to broach the subject, more than once. But she shot him down every time, closing herself off and withdrawing until she would barely acknowledge him. Her grief was eating her alive. And he couldn’t get through to her.

  He reached over and rubbed slow circles on her back. Bit by bit, he felt her relax beneath his hand. Finally, she leaned back and let him draw her into his arms.

  Frustration drove him to try, just one more time. He pressed a kiss to the side of her forehead, and spoke in low, soothing tones. “We agreed no more secrets, right?”

  She immediately tensed.

  “Tell me what’s wrong. Talk to me.”

  She pushed to her feet and began walking away from the log swing. Sebastian shot up and followed. He grabbed her by the wrist and spun her around. She tried to break free, jerked at her wrist, and then, when that didn’t work, she slammed her palm against his shoulder. Still, he wouldn’t budge.

  “Damn you, let me go.”

  “Never. Tell me what you’re so afraid of.”

  “You saw what happened,” she finally snapped, pushed to her limits. “You saw what I did to—”

  She broke off and turned her head away, closing her eyes tight. Sebastian captured her chin and drew her back to face him.

  “You saw what I did to those demons that attacked us at camp,” she said, quiet now, unable or unwilling to fully meet his gaze. “You saw what I did to your friends. What if I got mad, really mad, at you? What if I hurt you that way? I couldn’t live with myself.”

  “Is that what’s bothering you?”

  Her head drooped forward, and her shoulders sagged. “I’m a monster,” she whispered. “How can you want me? How can you stand to be around me?”

  His heart hurt to hear her talk about herself this way. He released her and took a step back. At his actions, she seemed to cave in on herself. But he had to get through to her, once and for all. She couldn’t go on like this.

  It was breaking her.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Sebastian centered his energy, drew it in, and he morphed. He snapped his wings open, extending them to their full, impressive glory.

  “Look at me, Phoebe,” he commanded around a mouthful of fangs.

  Grudgingly, she peered up at him.

  “You trust me, don’t you?”

  She nodded without hesitation.

  “You know I would never hurt you, right?”

  Again, she nodded.

  “Then you have to trust me on this. I am the same as you. Maybe not Carpathï, but demon all the same, yeah? You won’t hurt me. And you are not a monster. You are my mate, as I am yours.” He dr
ew her into his arms, and she didn’t resist. Pleased, hopeful, he rubbed his cheek against the top of her head as he folded his wings around them. “You are smart, and compassionate and gentle. But you’re also strong when you have to be. Resilient and brave. And I am proud to call you my mate.”

  She curled into him, but he urged her back a little and cupped her face, forcing her to meet his probing stare.

  “Never question how much I want you.” He searched her eyes. “I love you, Phoebe.”

  She blinked. Slowly, with heartbreaking tenderness, she eased her arms around his neck and pulled him down. And then she hugged him tight.

  Sebastian morphed to human form and hugged her right back, lifting her clear off the ground. He set her back on her feet, and he captured her lips with his. The taste of her, the soft yielding of her lips against his, the way her body melted against his sent desire rushing through his system.

  But then she broke the kiss and tilted her head, pressing her forehead to his. “I love you too,” she said softly. And she smiled up at him, her eyes filled with tears.

  Sebastian came undone. He let out a whoop of joy and lifted her from the ground again. Only he didn’t stop there. He spun her in circles and peppered her face with kisses.

  “Stop! Stop.” She laughed. “You’re making me dizzy.”

  He set her back on her feet, but then he rumbled in her ear, “Dizzy? Caro mita, I’m about to blow your mind.”

  In a heartbeat, he shimmered them to the room they’d been using while at the plantation. In less time than it took for her to draw her next breath, he had her naked and on the bed beneath him.

  “Sebastian,” she moaned as he kissed his way down her body.

  Man, he loved it when she said his name like that. He decided then and there that he’d make it his personal mission to get her to say his name, just like that, at least once every day for the rest of their lives.

  He lingered over each and every sensitive point, wringing more erotic little sounds from her. And when he pushed deep inside her, and she clung to him so sweetly, his heart felt as though it might burst from his chest.

  * * * * *

  Phoebe sat at the kitchen table pouring over her father’s journal. She’d been meticulously teaching Sebastian the complicated code her dad had created, and she was impressed with how quickly he was catching on.

  Her fingertips traced one puzzling passage as she read and then re-read the characters. Phoebe pinched the bridge of her nose, blinked, readjusted her glasses, and then took a third go at the paragraph.

  “What?” Sebastian asked, watching her. “Did you find something?”

  “Maybe,” she said, her focus locked on the dark slashes and marks in her father’s heavy hand.

  “Phoebe, are you feeling all right?”

  She was too busy translating to pay much attention to the sudden note of concern in Sebastian’s voice.

  “I’m fine,” she murmured, absently waving a hand in the air. “Look at this.” She angled the journal toward him as she pointed out the particular text. “In the Kingdom of the Snake, where the priests drew…” She paused, thumbed back a few pages for reference, then flipped back to the passage. “Where the priest drew first blood and the birds find roost, a key will reveal the truth.”

  She looked at him, brimming with excitement. Excitement, and just a touch of nausea. “Calakmul was the seat of what was otherwise known as the Kingdom of the Snake. It’s one of the most structure-rich sites within the Maya region. There are roughly a hundred and seventeen paired stele meant to represent the rulers and their wives. For more than twelve centuries, Calakmul was a major player in Mayan history. Its domain was marked by the extensive distribution of the glyph of the snake head sign, known as Kaan.”

  Phoebe fingered the arrowhead shaped rock she’d recovered from the base of one such statue in the jungle. “A key will reveal the truth,” she repeated softly.

  “You think that rock is a key of some kind?”

  She glanced up and grinned despite the pounding in her head. “I think so.”

  But he frowned. “I know you said you’re fine, but you’re really pale.” He reached up to touch her face before capturing her hand. “And clammy. When did you last eat?”

  Phoebe blinked as a swirl of dark spots clouded her vision for a moment. “I—”

  Suddenly a ripple of profound unease coursed through her. Beside her, Sebastian shot to his feet, bristling.

  “What is that?”

  “Angel,” he warned, his tone dark.

  He urged her to her feet and pulled her to the foyer. Gideon and Maggie were already rushing in from the den; Niklas and Carly hurried down the staircase.

  “Angel,” Niklas barked.

  “Wait,” Maggie urged, breathlessly. She closed her eyes for a moment, and then smiled. “It’s Samuel.”

  Gideon shot her a look. “Are you sure?”

  Maggie nodded.

  Gideon looked to Sebastian and then Niklas. “It’s okay. Samuel is an ally.”

  “He’s an angel,” Niklas warned as he gently but insistently pushed Carly behind him.

  “He’s an ally,” Gideon insisted. “He’s the one that gave us the tip about the name we should look for. How the balance of the world will be weighed in the hands of Rehsa. And he blessed Maggie and the baby.”

  Niklas glanced to Sebastian, who in turn looked to Gideon.

  Sebastian nodded. Niklas nodded. Neither one looked very happy. Gideon strode forward and opened the door. Phoebe sucked in a sharp breath. A handsome, ginger haired male stood in the doorway. His bright blue eyes were so remarkable she nearly missed the brilliant, white wings at his back.

  Nearly, but not quite.

  “Peace be with you,” he said in a voice that washed over her like sunshine.

  But just being this close to him made her skin feel tight, and her heart beat with the urge to do battle.

  “Breathe,” Sebastian advised quietly near her ear. He laced his fingers through hers and squeezed. “It’s your natural reaction to angelic presence. Just breathe. Try to relax.”

  “Come in,” Gideon offered.

  A wide smile split Samuel’s face. He walked inside. Well, maybe floated was more accurate. Gideon took a quick peek outside, and then closed the door behind him.

  “I come with important news,” Samuel said, his hands clasped before his pristine, white long-sleeved shirt.

  “You found more on the prophesy?”

  “Alas, no. Not yet.” He opened his mouth to say more, but then frowned as his gaze snagged on Phoebe. “You are unwell, child.”

  All eyes turned to her. Sebastian’s grip tightened.

  “May I?” Samuel looked from Phoebe to Sebastian and back again. Sebastian darted a glance at Gideon.

  “It’s all right,” Gideon said.

  Samuel moved closer at Sebastian’s nod. The itching sensation in Phoebe’s skin was nearly unbearable now. The need to explode into action almost more than she could control.

  Samuel lifted one hand and pressed his palm to Phoebe’s forehead. He closed his eyes, and a troubled frown darkened his features.

  “There is something here that makes her ill. It affects you all—all of you but the Human, the Halfling and the Guardian. But it’s very bad for her.”

  “The ward stones,” Sebastian hissed. “Damn it, how could I have forgotten?”

  “Of course,” Gideon said, eyeing Phoebe. “They’ll make her sick. She’s not used to them. Not like we are.”

  “I know my touch unsettles you, child,” Samuel told her, “but if I could, just one more time?”

  Phoebe gave a reluctant nod.

  The angel settled his hand upon the top of her head and closed his eyes one more time. She had the strangest sensation of something…pulling…being drawn from the top of her head
. The headache and the nausea, while not completely disappearing, got drastically better.

  “Thank you,” Phoebe said when he lifted his hand away.

  He smiled at her. “You are welcome. But you must not stay here any longer than necessary. You will sicken again. And, if left too long like this, you will die.”

  He stepped back then and clasped his hands before him once more. At his pronouncement, Sebastian turned stiff as stone. She squeezed his hand, but he shot her a dark look. A warning, if ever she’d seen one. He’d be chewing her out later for not telling him she was sick. That was plain as day. She heaved a sigh.

  “Your news?” she asked, turning to the angel.

  “Ah, yes. Several in my flock have heard of a place in New Orleans where there has been a concentration of evil. They’ve heard rumors of a demon of great power being held captive. And of ghastly sounds coming from a warehouse where the evil seems to be at its worst.”

  Niklas stepped forward. “Have you sent anyone to investigate?”

  “Yes.” A fleeting look of sorrow passed over the angel’s face. “Three of my flock went to the location. They did not return, and they do not answer their summons.”

  Niklas, Gideon and Sebastian exchanged knowing glances.

  Phoebe frowned. “What does that mean?”

  “They have returned to the Maker,” Samuel stated solemnly.

  “Where is this warehouse?” Sebastian asked.

  Samuel gave them the coordinates. “I would be happy to stay behind and watch over your mates until your return.”

  Niklas stiffened, as did Sebastian. If his hand squeezed hers any harder, he’d shatter bone.

  But Gideon was the first to speak. And his words shocked Phoebe to her toes.

  “Thanks, but our mates are perfectly capable of taking care of themselves. Besides, we have Phoebe to look after them now. They’re in good hands.”

  Samuel bowed his head. “As you wish.” He turned to the door but then paused. “Maggie, may I have a word.”

  “Of course.” Clearly puzzled, Maggie approached the angel. Gideon dogged her heels, not letting her out of arms reach.

  Despite his benign demeanor, and the fact that he’d taken away most of her illness, Phoebe was glad to see Gideon’s caution. She just couldn’t shake her sense of distrust of the angel. Maybe Sebastian was right. Maybe it was just a demon’s natural response.