Demon Q: New Vampire Disorder, Book 8

by Marie Johnston

A smile touched Quution’s lips, but his gaze was introspective. “Xoda—sister or niece?”

  “Niece. Xera is my sister.”

  “Does Xera manipulate fear?”

  Xan crossed her legs where she sat on top of her desk. This was a distinction she had to make. “We can manipulate all emotions. Some of my kind”—all the rest—“can sense them all and bend them to their will. Not telepathy, exactly. We can’t read minds. Or speak into them. But we can influence emotions. My specialty is fear.”

  There. She’d answered without confirming that Xera could warp happiness, worry, anger…anything.

  His expression hardened. “And that thing with me?”

  “That thing with you came from your imagination. I created something like a dream state from the fantasy in your mind. We all dream of what life would be like if ‘insert fear here’ weren’t an issue.”

  “But you were in it.”

  She cocked a brow. “I tried looking like that host you used and you claimed I was pale and must be ill, remember?”

  His scowl was laughable. “How did I cook for you?”

  “Weaknesses are malleable. You feared I wouldn’t eat, so I fed your imagination that you were cooking for me.”

  “But we ate. It was a steak.”

  “That hunk of steak was candy beetles.” She shook her head. He wasn’t getting it. “The more tangible a hallucination, the better. When a fear demon starts manipulating a dream, the target thinks the fear is being resolved, and their mind gets euphoric and feeds the manipulator the information she needs. It’s pure relief for you, thus giving me more power and making the outcome more believable.”

  His jaw dropped, but in his eyes he was horrified. “That’s an astonishing power.”

  Her back went ramrod straight. “And wielding energy so it can imprison me with nothing more than a thought isn’t?”

  “It wasn’t a criticism. There are so many layers to what you’re capable of, it’s mind-boggling.”

  She did a little wiggle that was a lot like preening. No one had complimented her powers. Ever. She was too much of a halfling to her own kind, and too threatening to the rest of demonkind—and avoided at all costs. “Not all of us can induce a hallucination.” She wasn’t a boaster—usually. Today, apparently she was. “Nor can we all hold them for long periods of time.” Like I did with you.

  Maybe his own energy had added fuel to her flame? Could that even happen? It wasn’t like they were mates or anything.

  “So you’re powerful.” He said it so simply, like it confirmed what he’d been thinking.

  “I’ve worked hard to hone my abilities.” Her sister was powerful. That Spaeth had bested her…

  He leaned forward in his chair, his elbows on his legs. “You could’ve kept me imprisoned in my chamber with nothing but a thought.”

  She swept her hand from one end of the room to the other, indicating the energy shield. “Isn’t that what you’re doing?”

  He straightened abruptly like she’d affronted him. Then his brows dropped. “Most of our powers have a significant mental component, I guess.”

  “Why do you want to make it so we can’t ever visit the human realm?”

  His lilac eyes shuttered. “What do demons usually do when they’re up there?”

  “They don’t wreak as much havoc as you think.”

  “Why are you in Marcus?” Arrogance stained his speech. “It’s to work for your full-blooded master.”

  Her indignant gasp echoed through the library chamber. Marcus had nothing to do with Spaeth. “I guess you don’t know as much as you think you do.”

  While his brow dropped as he contemplated what she meant, she slid off the desktop and stomped to the corner she’d been sleeping in.

  He thought she was nothing more than an unthinking minion. Fine. He could do all the thinking without her. And when he fell asleep, she’d traipse through his wards and leave.

  Why’d she quit talking? She’d never quit bugging him before. Must be sensitive about the master comment. The half-breeds on the Circle were overwhelmingly smug about their status and had formed a posse of their own, minus Xan.

  She had to be working with someone. She didn’t have servants of her own, unless it was the mysterious sister and niece she’d suddenly mentioned. Had Xan and her sister come up with the idea of spying on him? But if so, what was their ultimate aim?

  He was more confused about Xan than before and he hated having her back to him. It was too early to bed down for the night and he dreaded another round on the hard dirt floor.

  She could conjure the illusion of another plush mattress with satin sheets for them.

  He spun his chair around, the squeak bouncing through the chamber. After who knew how many minutes had passed with him staring blankly at the scroll, he spun back around.

  Her shapely ass faced him. The slope of her hips down to her waist was a sight worth painting and hanging on his wall. Torchlight gleamed along her smooth scalp. The image of her sucking on him rose so swiftly he slammed back in the rickety chair.

  He wanted to touch her again. Feel her come against his mouth, his hand, and—

  He shoved both hands through his hair and growled when two of his fake claws stabbed him, one in the cheek and one above his right eye.

  Fuck, he hated this costume. It hurt.

  Throughout his duress, she didn’t twitch.

  He’d really upset her. Why did he care?

  It was time for lunch. No, she’d eaten scavenger bugs and he’d had a submarine sandwich Stryke had brought down. His brother was becoming most proficient at bringing items into the underworld. It was beneficial since Quution couldn’t leave, and he couldn’t stomach bugs or beetles.

  Though he must’ve done fine a few days ago when she’d tricked him into eating candy beetles.

  No wonder she’d tasted so sweet.

  “It’s time for dinner,” he said gruffly. “Want to split the remains of my sandwich?”

  A scratching noise emanated from the wall by her. A line of beetles swarmed toward her head. She must be using her ability to make them flee an imaginary enemy. One fat bug skittered straight for her. She snatched it and the audible crunch gave him his answer.

  She needed time. He hadn’t anticipated that she’d want to chitchat, since he’d locked her in this room and wouldn’t even give her a book. But he had liked her attempts to talk with him.

  In reality, no one conversed with him in this realm. Demons spoke with him out of necessity, or when they were trying to kill him, not for conversation.

  Pulling his sandwich out of the blue and white cooler, he savored the sounds of her crunching. It’d been less than ten minutes since she’d quit talking to him and he was as empty as a water bottle in the Sahara.

  Chewing through his sandwich, he tasted nothing beyond a generic chalk flavor. Earlier, the food had been good. Xan had rejected sharing it then, too, but it hadn’t hit him as hard then.

  His gaze landed on the stack of books he’d cleared from her half of the library. The entire stack wasn’t entirely demonic ramblings; there were a few good reads in the pile. One nightmare demon had been especially eloquent and had penned all the dreams of his human hosts. Quution had found it quite entertaining, and given Xan’s level of proficiency, she could probably read the whole thing with little trouble.

  He finished his sandwich and crinkled the wrapping in his hand. As he crossed his half of the library, he wedged the bundle onto the torch. The blast of burning paper dwindled to the normal brimstone scent of the realm.

  No more scavenger beetles propelled out of the walls. Xan must be done eating. He went to the seam his energy wards made in the middle of the room and set the book on the floor. Without a word, he pushed it through.

  She glanced over her shoulder, but not at him. Her gaze touched on the book before she turned back to the wall. Disappointment rang through him.

  Given what he’d done to her, why had he expected anything more?


  Chapter 13

  Quution twitched in his sleep. A tickling sensation ran down his neck. He brushed at his ear and winced when his claw shredded the sensitive skin of his lobe.

  He blinked his eyes open. What had woken him?

  An inhale sent alarms through him. He sat up and twisted around. Why wasn’t Xan’s scent stronger?

  He searched for her prone form. Her corner was empty.

  Jumping up, he ran around the library as if he couldn’t see it in its entirety by standing in one spot.

  Xan was nowhere to be found.

  How had she snuck out? His energy and Stryke’s together should’ve trapped any being.

  He lurched out of the room. Where could she have gone? He charged down the corridor before coming to a halt.

  What was he doing? He could follow her anywhere.

  He dragged in a slow breath to force his heart rate to calm. Vibrations trailed over his skin. Her energy pattern was fading.

  Spinning on his heel, he stormed in the other direction. She couldn’t have gotten that far ahead of him. Her passing through his wards had to be what had woken him.

  A familiar presence appeared behind him. He didn’t bother turning around. “I have her trail.”

  “How’d she get out?” Stryke growled, pulling even with him in the passageway.

  Quution glanced over and did a double take. Stryke’s tight shirt had a cartoon cat with hearts for eyes. The blue plaid flannel pajama pants were more his style, at least.

  Stryke shot him a glare. “It’s Zoey’s shirt. It was dark.”

  “Why wear clothing at all?”

  “It’s become a habit. Besides, the shirt is already on. I’m not tossing it and risking her wrath.”

  Xan’s scent called to him, her energy a fine, glittery filigree in the air. Quution powered around corner after corner. She’d made good use of her short time of freedom.

  Stryke stopped. “We’ve circled around this spot three times. I can’t smell her.”

  Quution didn’t stop. “She’s close.” Two more turns. Three, tops.

  Stryke’s footsteps raced closer. He yanked on Quution’s elbow.

  Quution wrenched his arm out of Stryke’s grasp. “What are you doing, Brother? She’s close.”

  Stryke grabbed him again. “Is she? Or is she messing with you again?”

  She wouldn’t do that… But the words died on his lips. He studied his surroundings. Stryke was right. He had taken lefts over and over again and circled back. The library was around the corner.

  He fisted his hands and hissed at the sharp points of his claws. He kept his voice low. “She can’t be far away. Her powers must require proximity.” They had to, because then it’d mean he could still find her.

  “Let me try.” Stryke slid him a sidelong glance. “She doesn’t hold quite the influence over me.”

  Stryke scanned the corridor as he turned right and left, swiveling backward and forward. He stared back where they’d come from, where Quution had originally run.

  The crafty vixen.

  He picked up speed until they were jogging. His uneven platforms sent shocks through his spine. He brushed away the discomfort and ignored the strong urge to trot in the opposite direction.

  She wasn’t fooling him again.

  As they pursued Xan, he couldn’t help but wonder why, during all her time tricking him, she hadn’t tried to assassinate him. Surely her master would consider a dead Quution a good Quution.

  Was it the risk of failure?

  No, she had to know he couldn’t hurt her. She’d duped him into revealing his real self, cooking for her, and then making love to her in his bed, where he would’ve given everything to her. And after that deception was revealed, he’d still offered her his sandwich and given her one of his favorite books.

  She’d first bargained with him to read in exchange for not spilling the secret of how he’d been raised and his relationship to Stryke. Could she be spying on him because her master had a hold on her?

  The sister. And the niece.

  Xan wasn’t one of the typical evil demons roaming the underworld. She’d killed her mama for her sister’s safety. What was a little seduction and espionage compared to that if she needed to save her family again?

  Her scent curled around him like a finger crooking him in her direction.

  “Xan!” he roared and picked up his speed. Stryke called his name, but Quution spotted a slinky, purple-tinted shadow skirting the wall of the passage.

  He flailed for all the energy he could gather and tossed it out in the form of a net. Xan stopped, her body rigid, a strangled noise escaping her.

  He’d unintentionally given her an electrical shock. Backing off on the energy, he rushed the rest of the way to her.

  “I’m sorry” were the first words out of his mouth.

  A pinch of anger drained from her gaze. “That hurt.”

  “I didn’t mean—you were getting away.”

  Stryke huffed up next to him. “Sweet brimstone, she’s the escapee. Don’t fucking apologize.”

  Instead of snarling at Stryke, Xan lifted her chin, her face haughty. “That’s why Quution’s the sexy brother.”

  “Your game’s off,” Stryke replied. “Who’s sexier isn’t one of my concerns.”

  She slid her gaze away. “I wasn’t appealing to your fear.”

  “It isn’t mine,” Quution sputtered.

  Xan lifted a dark brow.

  He shook his head. She had them twisted around less than thirty seconds after they’d captured her. “You really are good.”

  “Apparently not,” she muttered. “Or you wouldn’t keep trapping me.”

  “We muck up a bit when our loved ones are in trouble. Don’t we?” He hoped she’d talk to him this time. Between him and Stryke, even Melody, they could help her. They could help her family.

  “What are you talking about?” Xan couldn’t meet his gaze.

  “Xera. Xoda. Who’s using them to get you to work for them?”

  Xan was at a crossroads, but it wasn’t which corridor to sprint down to lose the demon brothers. She wanted to trust Quution so badly. He knew she had a sister and a niece and she should’ve kept that info to herself. Quution was nothing like Spaeth, but in reality, how well did she know him?

  When his back was to the wall, how did she know he wouldn’t use her?

  He’d pointed out how astonishing her ability was, and she’d learned the hard way what demons would do to secure her cooperation. Her dilemma wasn’t only about Quution. Stryke’s perplexed gaze darted between her and Quution.

  “Let me rephrase. Who has your sister and niece?”

  “There’s more of her?” Stryke asked.

  Yes, there were, though her kind didn’t hang out and have family reunions, and births were few and far between. Their coloring was part of their camouflage, and they stayed hidden. A low-key lifestyle was necessary to prevent abduction, forced breeding, or—she repressed a shudder—their addition to the pile of bones in the sacrificial cave.

  She’d done a good job for herself, until Spaeth had found her somehow. Now, she was on the freaking Circle. It was the complete opposite of lying low. And that was despite missing every gathering possible and not mingling with the others.

  “We can help them,” Quution said.

  She still hadn’t spoken. Understanding was dawning on Stryke. He didn’t look happy his brother was caving, but it’d lead to the answer they were seeking.

  But Quution didn’t follow up his offer with an ultimatum. He wasn’t coercing her, bargaining with her, or blackmailing her. Yes, they would lock her back into the empty half of the library, probably in chains this time, but she couldn’t fault them. Their lives were in danger too. Spaeth would whip the entire underworld into a frenzy until each and every demon down here was hunting the brothers.

  And their troubles weren’t isolated to this realm. Stryke’s mate and everyone she cared about would be threatened as well.

 
Yet, Quution genuinely wanted to help her. He gave no indication otherwise.

  She glanced around the dim caves. No one was close, but one could never be sure. “Let’s go back to the library.”

  Quution nodded and stepped to the side to allow her to pass first.

  Xan kept her shoulders back as she walked, but she really wanted to hunch over and drag her feet. Spaeth was harmless in that he was predictably evil. If Quution got her to trust him, then let her down? That seemed so much worse.

  But her mission wasn’t as cut and dried as she’d thought. Bug Quution, collect information, tattle on him, and then find Xera and get her to safety. Now she’d have to bank on Spaeth not finding any of them, or she’d have to test her skills to the maximum and fight him. Things just got more complicated.

  Back in the library, she deliberately traipsed over to Quution’s side and sat in his chair. She crossed her legs. Stryke leaned against the entrance and crossed his arms. It was her first good look at him today.

  “Nice shirt,” she said.

  His stolid expression didn’t flicker. “Thanks.”

  It was becoming clearer why she liked him despite his attitude toward her. He wasn’t unnecessarily cruel, a rare trait in this realm. His care for Quution was obvious too. How did they hide that they were related? Most minions were openly hostile and full of resentment over their circumstances, but Stryke had never acted like that. And he didn’t ogle or leer at her, even behind her back. She could be wandering around in snow pants and a parka and he wouldn’t look at her any differently.

  Quution shuffled to the desk. The more she thought about what he was planning, the more she wondered why the getup. Sure, full-bloods would scorn him, but they’d be even less concerned that he posed a serious threat if they thought he was half as strong. His reasoning didn’t make any sense.

  They waited for her to start talking. Mellow, unhurried, no sense of belligerence. Perhaps that was the reason she finally told them what they wanted to hear.

  “Spaeth.”

  No rage roiled out of them. Quution exchanged a charged lilac glance with Stryke’s violet one. The name came as no surprise to them, but would any full-breed have really been a shocker?