Pleasure made me quiver.
When I turned around, Rowan’s eyes were huge, the champagne flecked with astonishing, pure white gold.
At first, I thought I’d disgusted him. I should have gone upstairs to change. I wasn’t wearing a bra, and even with my back turned, I could have offended him with the way I looked. This was exactly why I always changed for class in the bathroom stalls.
Then I remembered I no longer looked like that disfigured, pasty skinned thing. And instantly I knew the white gold in Rowan’s eyes wasn’t from disgust.
I think every inch of my skin blushed.
After a moment, I realized he could probably feel my projected emotions, and blushed even more furiously.
After a little embarrassed stammering, I managed to telepath, Thank you for the sweater, then said, “Again.”
Rowan rubbed a hand across his mouth roughly, then pinched the bridge of his nose with his eyes closed. “If you don’t learn not to project, you’ll be the death of me.”
I could have imagined he was joking if not for the menacing way his champagne eyes were shattered with white gold when he looked at me again. He looked dangerous.
Training then? I asked, suddenly worried for Rowan’s control. I’d never seen him lose it, and he was fairly contained even now, if not for the turbulence in his gaze.
“Tell me about your day,” through clenched teeth.
No pomp and circumstance with this male.
Unable to be more creative, I opted for the full truth. It sucked.
“Tell me of something you like,” Rowan snapped, his words abrupt, his eyes looking past me. Guess short answers weren’t going to do the trick.
It took a few moments before I could think of things to answer with. But once I got the first few out, other things came easily.
Laughing with Benn. Sparring with Dmitri. Honey, lemons, Sriracha hot sauce. Great books with satisfying endings. The bang-ring of The Bookstore cash register closing after a sale. The smell of…
… male demon mixed with the homey scent of books and wood of my bookstore. But I wasn’t about to tell him that because it was his scent I was inhaling so deeply, and the way it mingled with the rich leather and old paper was too intoxicating to face right now.
“The smell of?” he prodded.
…books, I thought to him, wondering if the sheepish way the one word sounded in my head projected into the telepath.
“Now tell me what you hate,” he said in his knowing way, but instantly, as my mind filled with all the things I despised, I stopped analyzing every minute twitch of the Hammer’s expressions.
I hate it when someone asks if I’ve got something, like a pile of books in my arms, and I say I’m fine, and they grab for them anyway.
I hate when authors use words repeatedly in a novel no one ever uses in real life. Assuage. Acquiesce. Chagrin. It’s just…distracting!
Rowan was smirking, so I narrowed my eyes at him. “What?”
He shook his head. “You use words no one ever uses in real life.”
Ignoring him, because there were a lot of things I hated, And cliffhangers are pure evil.
I hate when Grayson tries his dirty, Incubus tricks on me.
And I hate that allegiance junk.
Out of the two million vivid thoughts of things I hated surging through my head, I had no idea why this was the one I chose to share with Rowan, of all demons. But it came out, like it needed to be said.
I hate that I’m twenty and haven’t experienced anything. I hate that I blamed it on my looks, but now I know I chose not to even try, and for that I have to take responsibility for all the disappointment in my life. And I hate that I’ve only just realized how I’ve held myself back.
My eyes stung, and I blinked until my vision wasn’t blurry anymore. Where had all that come from?
“You shouldn’t bear that blame,” Rowan said reluctantly, as if he wasn’t sure he wanted to cross some sort of line. His eyes were back to normal now, glistening champagne.
Shouldn’t I?
“You wouldn’t have realized you felt this way if it hadn’t been for the glamour.”
Slowing my breathing and forcing my hands against my sides so they’d stop shaking, I knew he was right. Hadrian didn’t just lift away my ugly glamour. I’d never felt like I felt now. As my heart beat double time and my stomach twisted with feelings I didn’t understand, I knew I never had emotions so pure.
Do you think my… humanity…was muted?
“Yes,” with confidence, but his champagne eyes were evasive as he said, “you were an outline before. A shade. Nothing more.”
My face burned, and my arms suddenly felt heavy, but I didn’t know why.
Rowan swallowed so hard I could hear it from across the room. When he spoke again, he looked directly at my face, those incredible eyes penetrating deep into me.
“Now you are a forest fire.”
Before I even had a chance to consider what to say, what the ringing in my ears and the quickening of my pulse meant, Rowan disappeared.
CHAPTER 15
The unexpected ice storm began around noon the next day. When pellets started pinging off the roof and against the windows, I peeked around the shades over the windows as the hairdressers from next door and the real estate agents from across the street retreated for the cover of their homes in droves. I was glad I lived in the same place I worked. It meant I didn’t have to brave the weather.
Except The Bookstore wasn’t open. Still a wasteland from what I’d done, though, it looked better than it had. Bookshelves were back up. The ceiling was fixed. The wallpaper stripped and replaced. The floors were no longer covered with ash, white, powdery plaster and wood splinters. The only thing missing were about two-thirds of the books that once filled the shelves.
I still didn’t know how I caused so much damage. I couldn’t face finding out.
I made a call to our book distributor. But with the weather, it would probably be a few days before any part of my order was filled.
Since there were no patrons, I’d been completely alone since Cyrus left before sunrise.
When I awoke—or got up, since there wasn’t much sleeping involved last night thanks to my hyper-sensitive skin—and there wasn’t a demon on the sofa or sentry outside The Bookstore, my unease was startling. The damage had been done. The glamour was lifted. I’d survived a few days without incident.
Demonkind around the world probably knew I existed now, where to find me, and what I looked like. But none of them had shown up brandishing fiery swords and ominous orbs of energy. So far, I’d been safe. Well watched over. Protected, like Jake and Holly pointed out last night.
At the time, I’d been mildly annoyed by the constant demon presence. But now, looking around an abandoned bookstore with the promise of being snowbound for a few days because of the ice storm, without the seductive eyes of a Tempter, the conflicted gaze of a dimpled Hammer, or the judgy, watchful stare of champagne, I was worried.
Would the ice keep demons—the good ones and the maybe not so good ones—away? Was my life even in jeopardy?
When Cyrus asked to leave this morning, I didn’t hesitate to say goodbye. They didn’t seem to think I was in any danger anymore.
I needed a task. That was the problem. I needed something to focus on or I would have to start thinking about everything. I wasn’t ready to, but the thoughts kept coming.
Unfortunately for him, Cyrus was the subject of my interrogation last night. Since my nerves and temper were on the fritz after Rowan jumped away, I wouldn’t accept Cy’s evasiveness.
He said, after some persistence, no one had actually challenged Iliana’s rule, or come forward against my Scion status. There were concerns. Interest. But no real threats. To kill a member of the Royal family meant war, unless it was a coup to take over government. And demons relied on diplomacy now before full-out rebellion.
So who hired Hadrian? Who had been the highest bidder, as he put it? I thought b
efore, because of what Rowan said in the warehouse, that it was Faction. If they didn’t want a half-caste Scion and they knew there were vigilante demons out there somewhere trying to kill me, all they had to do was make finding me easier by giving them a clear, unglamoured target.
But then, just like I’d wondered and Rowan had considered yesterday, if they wanted me out of the way, why not have Hadrian kill me in the first place?
Maybe the demon who hired the Sorcerer knew that, if the world was aware of who I was, saw by our similarity in looks that I was Iliana’s daughter, I was Scion. Meaning no demon could touch me.
Maybe my mother was the one who wanted me out in the open, for my protection. But that felt like a childish hope, not a real possibility.
Was there another player?
Or was there a multitude of factors I knew nothing about, and speculating at all was pointless?
Probably. What did I know? Lots of things I thought I knew about demons were proving to be false. Or at least tactically inaccurate so humans never fully knew what they were up against. My demon half understood tactical inaccuracy.
I had Demonology books in The Bookstore, and one I used to study in junior high up in my apartment, but if the information in them was false, it wouldn’t do any good to review them. The only way I knew for certain I could learn the truth was to ask Grayson, Rowan, and Cy.
If I were brave, I’d even ask to meet more demons. Or get the courage up to use Dmitri’s talisman, which was apparently what the little chess pawn he gave me last night at class was. Cy was a wealth of knowledge once his vault was pried open.
Or I could call Holly and Jake, and see what they were willing to share.
I wondered if my three sentries would be on board for that one.
As if they heard me thinking about them, the three demons came stumbling into the store without knocking. At least they used the door this time. Usually they just jumped in without warning.
Ice clung in their hair, eyebrows, and eyelashes. None of their coloring looked right, dulled and pale with bright, chapped cheeks and unsettlingly blue lips. Sweaters with no jackets had snow and ice clinging to them, and stuck to their well-muscled forms which shook uncontrollably. They shivered, teeth chattering.
Concern struck me, and I was alarmed by the intensity of my distress. I didn’t stop to think why.
Waving for them to follow, they trudged behind me, quaking, teeth thundering all the way up to my apartment. When they were in, I shut the door and pointed to the couch. Flipping on my area heater, I moved it to the coffee table as the demons reluctantly sat.
As soon as they thawed out, they would be fine.
They’d be fine.
He’d be fine.
Not understanding my own thoughts was disturbing. Zipping around the room, shaking off the strange beat of concern in my head, I filled and switched on my electric kettle, grabbed my bedding, and draped it over broad, demon shoulders.
Nothing was defrosting them. Ice melted from their hair, but their coloring was still off, their lips still blue and quivering.
When the electric kettle chimed, I left them in my living room and went to my small kitchen, knowing hot liquid would warm them better than anything. My hands shook as I poured water into mugs.
Mechanically, I made the drinks I always made myself, drinks that soothed me. Only now did I understand why I craved hot chocolate after being tormented or why I made myself tea when I was anxious.
I carried in the tray of drinks minutes later. All three handsome, masculine full-caste demons were huddled in front of my puny area heater, swathed in my purple bedding. They looked so vulnerable. Almost fragile.
“Coffee with extra sugar,” went to Cyrus, “extra spicy hot chocolate,” went to Grayson, and “tea with extra lemon,” which I handed to Rowan.
Simultaneously, they took a sip and none of them spit out what I’d made them, so I was satisfied. After a few more sips, they stopped shivering, their coloring slowly returned. When I was able to move again, convinced they were okay, the tension in my shoulders eased but my heartbeat still sent the deafening sound through my head.
“How’d you decide who got what?” Cyrus asked as he took another sip and smacked his now pink lips.
Amusing myself, but my voice a little hysterical, I pointed to him, “Sweet,” then Grayson, “Hot,” then Rowan, “and bitter.”
Grayson was trying to entice my attention with crystal blue eyes—I had inadvertently called him hot—but all I saw was a flickering smirk play across Rowan’s lips. Unlike every other time I’d seen that smirk, it made my heart slow to a more normal pace. This time, I didn’t stand a chance of holding back my slow smile that spread in response.
As an afterthought, I tried forcing up walls inside my mind so the three demons staring at me couldn’t feel what I was feeling. The walls were covered in moss, like ancient stone on Irish castles. By the demon’s expressions, the stone walls totally failed.
“You guys didn’t do your homework before moving into St. Louis, huh?” I said, trying to divert their attention from my projections.
“Of course we did,” Grayson said, and looked to Cy, who pulled out a little book, flipped to a page, and pointed. “The average temperature for this month is forty-two degrees. Snowfall is…”
An almanac. And they thought that was going to prepare them for the notoriously unpredictable St. Louis weather?
“You can’t go by that,” I laughed. “I mean, next week it could be sixty-five degrees and sunny. Averages…are misleading.”
They stared at me as if the concept was crazy. But that wasn’t what mattered right now. What mattered was they’d walked here, outside in an ice storm, at their own peril, when they didn’t even have to.
My temper blazed white hot and bright, smoke-and-fire flickering to life. As the burst of sinister thoughts raged, I knew my demon instinct really hadn’t been bubbling in the back of every thought for a while.
It had been easy to forget the familiar feelings.
“Why didn’t you guys just jump and avoid the weather all together?” I accused the Hammer demons.
“We were already on the streets,” Cyrus stated, tension in his posture. “Gateway photographers lurk around every building here.”
Expression a little nervous and expectant…and maybe disappointed too, Rowan explained, “We saw five on our way across town, even in the storm.”
I looked into his pleading eyes. Demon instinct flared.
“Two were following us. We had no choice.” Rowan sat his mug down. “They are probably still outside your store."
He was ready to react when I lost it. But the smoke-and-fire was extinguished with his explanation, desires to harm expertly tucked away.
I’d had good control of it before my glamour was lifted, but this was incredible.
After exchanging a look, the Hammer demons relaxed their preparing-for-battle stance. Rowan looked…not annoyed. He picked up the tea I’d made him, and sipped.
Humans couldn’t know Hammers could jump. The moment Gateway magazine found out, the whole world would know. I understood not wanting that. But they still put themselves in danger out there. What if they’d gotten frostbite? Could demons get frostbite? Even if they couldn’t, they could have slipped and spilt their heads open. I doubted even demon healing would repair that kind of damage.
“You could have, you know, ducked into an alley or a bathroom or something.” Hands on my hips, my voice rising to a borderline yell, I tapped my foot, waiting for an explanation. But the smoke-and-fire remained dormant.
“Too much of a chance for a human to notice. Even the inkling of the knowledge is dangerous,” Rowan finally said, his tone somehow…sweeter.
My temper fizzled with the logic. If humans knew Hammers could pop in and out of anywhere they wanted, people would begin to wonder if Hammers were behind robberies, burglaries, abductions. Yes, I understood the secrecy.
“You jump in front of Benn,” I mumbled.
The three demons exchanged a look that could only be defined as conspiratorial.
“Bennett is,” Rowan cleared his throat, “no longer a threat.”
Three sets of eyes scrutinized me, reading my annoyance, resignation, and some odd sense of protectiveness. Again I tried to build walls as a barrier, this set black, marble pillars. But I failed again, and they could feel my disappointment.
“You guys need coats,” I grumbled, stomping into the kitchen to make myself something to drink. It turned out to be tea. Guess I was feeling anxious.
CHAPTER 16
The roads, sidewalks, cars, streetlights, tree branches, each blade of grass, and anything else that had been left outside during the storm like bicycles and newspapers were layered with two inches of solid ice and rendered immobile. And that was before the snow began to fall.
I spent the night naked in my bed. I’d spread Rowan’s chocolate sweater beneath me, and tried to use his sage green one as a blanket, struggling with half my body freezing while the other half spiked with fever. Exactly like last night.
When Rowan returned the next afternoon with bedding in his arms, I could have kissed him.
“What are you doing?” Cyrus charged Rowan the moment he jumped into The Bookstore.
Grayson didn’t stir from his nap, yet somehow he was sending me telepaths of what had to be the Underrealm. At first, I thought he wasn’t conscious of it, being asleep and all. But after a while, the demon part of me saw his game. Enticing me into asking him questions about what I’d seen. They all knew about my new weakness. Curiosity. I wondered why he wanted me interested in the ‘realm so badly.
“She hasn’t slept for three nights,” Rowan replied with a hard stare.
Cy grabbed Rowan’s arm, thought better of it and turned his back to me as he snapped his hand to his side. “These things remain in the Underrealm.”
“This is the final time I will remind you, she is Scion.”
“She is a half-caste,” the snarl coming from the usually nice Hammer shocked me, especially since he’d always been sweet. To my face, anyway.
Defying Instinct (Demon Instinct Series) Page 11