Defying Instinct (Demon Instinct Series)

by Jaye A. Jones

  Especially when I figured out they were talking about me.

  “I was horrible…before. We weren’t always close,” Benn said.

  Cyrus accused, “Meaning you weren’t always devoted.”

  “I was beyond selfish. I took and took. And she just…gave and accepted,” Benn sighed. “But Savvy doesn’t care about that.”

  “You’re saying our Scion…” Cy’s voice appalled, “doesn’t remember your lack of fealty?”

  “No, Savvy remembers. Of course she does. But…it’s what makes her great. One of the things. She never brings up something I did in the past to hold against me. I don’t know if demon females are the same, but a lotta human women toss every mistake in your face.” I heard the smile in his voice when he added, “not her though.”

  “You never suspected she wasn’t human?” Cy asked, and I held my breath.

  Silence.

  “I don’t know how you saw her so clearly before,” Rowan’s voice struck me. I hadn’t expected him to join in on a conversation, especially not one about me. “After her glamour was lifted, you compared her temper to a sparkler on the Fourth of July. You had it exactly right. White hot and pure, but temporary. And contained. It’s a thing of beauty, that temper of hers.” He cleared his throat. “But how did you see it? She was…less before.”

  “She wasn’t less,” all sharp defensiveness. I wanted to rush out and hug Benn for defending me, but stayed where I was, vaguely wondering if my projections were going to alert them to my eavesdropping. “Savvy was just…hard to read if you didn’t speak her language.”

  “And now everything she feels is on display for all of demonkind,” this from Cy, sounding worried.

  “Is…is she improving?” Benn reluctantly asked.

  “Not enough,” Rowan barked. “It needs to fall into place, and that hasn’t happened yet.”

  “She says you haven’t even told her how—”

  “It’s different for each individual,” Rowan muttered, then said in a clearer tone, “Honestly, I don’t even think she’s trying to keep from projecting.”

  Nope, they couldn’t feel my projections now. They wouldn’t be talking about me like this if they could. A smile spread as I wondered if I figured out how to contain my projections without realizing it. I imagined strolling downstairs, having figured it out, and the look on Rowan’s face…

  “Maybe…maybe she can’t,” Benn said meekly, and my smile dropped. “Like she keeps saying, there’s never been a half-caste Scion. Maybe she can’t…stop it.”

  There was a heavy silence as the males considered this. I considered it too. If my every emotion was out there for all to feel, if my every telepath was forever open for anyone’s mental ears, there would only be one choice.

  I’d have to stop telepathing, and cut off my emotions again—if I even could.

  No, I’d have to. Sick aches made me wrap my arms around myself.

  I’d have to close myself off, shut myself down. Forfeit this pounding in my chest of love for Benn’s supportive words, surrender this twist in my stomach at the idea that these three males cared enough to discuss my fate. I’d lose the enjoyment of rejecting Grayson. I’d have to give up touch, give up the thrill it gave me to make Rowan grin. Part ways with joy, with easy laughter, with everything I’d only just discovered was the stuff that made life…good.

  “No,” Rowan’s commanding voice stopped my heart. “She will appear weak, childlike, less than if she can’t master these things. She will not survive her mother. She will not survive the ‘realm.”

  Silence again, but my lower lip trembled. I needed to go back to my apartment so I could cry. I needed to lose it. Again.

  Rowan’s opinion mattered. More than I realized. And he didn’t think I was strong enough to survive. I’d thought I wasn’t strong enough, I knew I couldn’t have what it took to be a real Scion. I’d avoided thinking about everything, filling my head with easy tasks and simple thoughts because I knew I wouldn’t survive this. But hearing Rowan say it...

  As I began to head upstairs with slumped shoulders and a head swimming with negativity, Rowan spoke again, and I sucked in a wavering breath.

  “The female is stubborn, determined.” My ears rang as blood surged through my veins, but I leaned in to hear the rest. “She’s shown remarkable control and resilience these few days that I would never have believed if I hadn’t witnessed it myself. That she hasn’t let the Destroyer take her over again is extraordinary. Savannah will master this.”

  My name in that deep and smoky voice gave me goosebumps. Had I heard right? Rowan didn’t think I was hopeless?

  Tears came before I was in my room, unable to resist falling now. But they were not sad tears, tears of frustration and fear of having to become what I once was. They were tears of something else. Because of Rowan’s words.

  CHAPTER 18

  I let myself cry for one more minute, then set my jaw and squared my shoulders. A minute after that, Rowan knocked on my door.

  Come in, I telepathed, but stayed in my dark bedroom.

  “It wouldn’t be proper,” he said from my doorway, peering into the dark.

  “Don’t be ridiculous.” I wiped my wet cheeks with his sage sweater sleeves. “I’m a virgin. Never even kissed a guy. I wouldn’t even know what to do with a male like you.”

  Rowan cleared his throat in the way he did when he needed a moment to censor himself. They all did it in one way or another. Grayson paused often, as if he were choosing what he said very carefully. Cy never said anything that didn’t sound premeditated—until earlier today anyway.

  “If your motive is to make a male uninterested, saying those things is counterproductive.”

  Oh.

  Was it the virgin thing? That couldn’t exactly be a surprise to anyone. Was it the kissing thing? I could understand even the noblest male seeing it as a challenge. And I may have unintentionally complimented him. What did I mean by a male like him anyway?

  Strong yet gentle. Clever. Considerate. Intriguing. Controlled and challenging. Almost charming when he wanted to be. Mmm, very desirable.

  I shook the thoughts away, shocked that they came to me at all. Within the course of a few days, but man my life became complicated.

  This time, it was me who cleared my throat before saying anything more. I might have thought it was funny under different circumstances.

  “Did you like the tea before? I can make—”

  “Sure, I…” he cleared his throat. “Sure.”

  I had a kettle made for camping that heated water without electricity, specifically for when the power went out in this exact way. Fishing through the closet for the kettle, I stumbled around in the tiny, dark room. I kept my composure more than I thought I would considering two minutes ago I’d been bawling like a baby because of words this male said about me.

  But his sneer was still there. His harsh, biting tone and the unease in his stance still in place. It wasn’t like he was suddenly seeing me differently. Rowan still couldn’t stand being near me.

  “I don’t…I never hated you. I just—” he grumbled, and I shook my head. Of course he could feel what I was feeling. Of course I hadn’t figured out how to not project. It had just been the distance and the walls separating us when I was eavesdropping on the stairs.

  “Don’t worry about it,” I said, slamming the closet door harder than I meant to, camping kettle in hand, and started to mechanically make some tea.

  When my hands and apartment smelled strongly of green tea and lemons, I sat down on the couch, expecting Rowan to stand in the corner and glare at me. But he sat on the other end of the couch, and took a long, loud slurp of tea. It made me feel weirdly pleased.

  “What do you know about Grayson’s sister?” I asked mostly to fill the quiet airspace.

  All he did was look at me, champagne eyes penetrating even in the dark, until I understood what he expected me to do.

  Tell me about Grayson’s sister.

  “Her
name is Tanis Rivera. She’s a half-caste Tempter.”

  I waited, but Rowan sipped his tea and said nothing more.

  That’s it?

  “Is that not enough?”

  You didn’t tell me anything about her.

  “You of all people should know what it means when I say she’s a half-caste. You know more about her than any of us could.”

  “That can’t be true. Grayson would know—”

  “Tanis and Grayson have never met.”

  That kind of explained Grayson’s reaction yesterday. Had he not meant to telepath her image to me in the first place? Had the Tempter advisor slipped up and let me see something real?

  I didn’t understand how he could be a Royal advisor, yet not know his sister who was in Iliana’s court. Perhaps my mother was even worse than I’d thought.

  Tell me more.

  “Her human mother was a Mexican actress, beautiful in all the ways human women are. Lucia Rivera was successful, and kind, but far too trusting. Grayson’s father seduced her, as Tempters do, then left her, as Tempters do. Not surprisingly, Lucia died in childbirth.”

  “Why not surprisingly?”

  Rowan scowled, and I repeated the question mentally, intentionally projecting irritation along with it.

  “Humans rarely make it full-term when carrying a half-demon in their womb. Those who make it to give birth seldom survive it.”

  “And demons have no problem knowing this?” outrage flaring inside me. “They get women pregnant all the time. They never considered knocking them up is a death sentence? It should be outlawed!”

  “I suspect the demon’s intention isn’t to get a human pregnant, only to…” he cleared his throat, “sleep with them.”

  “So who raised Tanis until she was sixteen?” I asked, my anger shifting into concern.

  Until our sixteenth birthday, half-castes had no choice but to struggle in the human world. Without Dad, I didn’t know if I could have survived it. It was because I had him to come home to, him to push me in school, him to praise my accomplishments—theoretically—and to reprimand my deviances that I could stand even one day of my life.

  He frowned because I hadn’t telepathed the question, but answered anyway. “Foster care.”

  Oh, God. I knew there were some good foster families. The system could work, but it couldn’t have been easy for a half-caste. We felt unwanted enough as it was. Maybe Tanis finally found a home with Iliana. But I couldn’t convince myself. I feared the worst for Grayson’s sister.

  My heart ached for the girl I never met, and hoped my mother wasn’t the evil witch I’d imagined her to be.

  “’Evil witch you’d imagined her to be’,” Rowan repeated the words I hadn’t said out loud, shaking his head. “Now you’re projecting your thoughts.”

  A sting of shame surged through me. I didn’t want Rowan thinking I was weak. And I didn’t want him knowing my deepest feelings either. If I was projecting thoughts, that meant I was getting worse, not better. I’d only projected emotions before.

  “Didn’t mean to,” I mumbled, unable to look at him.

  Until Hadrian lifted my glamour, I had no idea how much being an outcast, being looked at as disgusting, as having no place to belong upset me. Maybe I had the better deal before. Everything hurt less.

  “This is why I insist we continue our training. When a hostile situation arises,” I noted that he didn’t say if, “your ability to speak to us and keep out your enemies will be your best defense.”

  Yeah, you keep saying, I telepathed, hopelessness settling in. Maybe I couldn’t do this, like Benn said. I wanted to stay optimistic, but I wasn’t getting any better. I didn’t deserve to be able to telepath. I was still a nothing, a nobody. Like I’d always been.

  Rowan slammed his mug, then both fists into the coffee table making me spill tea on my rabbit fur covered feet.

  “You feeble little thing! Do you know what happens in my world to halflings who are so pathetic?” I squeaked, wanting to defend myself, but no words came out. “Can you even comprehend something this important, you sniveling child? You really are the nothing you think you are. A nothing, waste of a title, waste of the space you occupy.”

  “But…” I was going to say it wasn’t my fault, but my throat closed up. My whole body stung, like his words were toxic.

  He stood, towering over me. I wouldn’t raise my head to look up at him. “That’s right, bow your head to me, half-caste. Let your pitiful nature pull you under…”

  Heat warmed my cheeks, slid down my neck and burned in my chest. Rowan kept shouting, his position above me making me feel as small as he intended.

  “Hold yourself back, let your life pass you by. Just like before. May as well have your glamour back, not like you’re doing anything productive without it!”

  Smoke-and-fire rose up, my demon instinct finally deciding to join in. As old memories filled my head, clouding my vision, I remembered what this felt like before Hadrian took my glamour away. It felt like torment, like evil and death and everything sick and twisted in the world. But it didn’t feel the same as before.

  Rowan’s howls roared around me, but I hardly heard him. I could feel his fear as the smoke-and-fire burned. This incredible male feared what I could do.

  But the fire wasn’t fire anymore. It was light. The smoke wasn’t smoke at all. It was strength, burning conviction and power into me.

  Something snapped into place inside my mind, a sense lucidity and rightness.

  Mentally, I forced him away, my demon instinct keeping him at a distance. Rowan didn’t get to know how his words hurt me. He didn’t get to know that my heart ached and blood boiled. He, of all demons, shouldn’t be talking to me like this. I didn’t know why I felt this way, but I felt this way with such certainty, I knew it in the marrow of my bones.

  Even though he continued to bark, I hadn’t heard him for a while. Suddenly, Rowan’s voice crashed over me. “Who would want you? Who would follow you? Who would even want to touch you…”

  “Enough!” I shot to my feet. The mug of tea I’d made for Rowan shot up with me, crashed into the ceiling, and sprayed hot tea and ceramic shards onto Rowan’s blonde head.

  I allowed myself one slack-jawed moment.

  “That is quite enough, Rowan,” I said calmly, but my simultaneous telepath had a clearer meaning. Shut. The fuck. Up!

  Rowan ran his head through his wet hair, seemingly unbothered by the jagged mug pieces that clattered to the ground. “Well done.”

  Blinking at the demon, I grunted, “Huh?”

  “You did it. It’s done,” he flopped into the couch and shook out his hair, sending the last of the shards jangling to the floor. “Thank. God.”

  Scrunching my face, still annoyed and not sure what to do with my building anger now that Rowan wasn’t attacking me, I asked, “Did I miss something?”

  “Since you clearly are still feeling emotions,” he motioned to my sweaty face, shaking hands, and then my torso as I gulped in air, “Your projections have been blocked.”

  Eyes closed, I steadied my breathing and stopped shaking. When I sat and could open my eyes again, Rowan was practically glowing, specks of white gold in his eyes. I remembered what he told Benn and Cy. He thought my temper was a thing of beauty.

  That belly flutter thing happened again, but Rowan’s expression didn’t change. He couldn’t feel it.

  My eyes narrowed at him. “I only did it once. That doesn’t mean I’ll be able to keep—”

  “Give it a try,” Rowan said with knowing. His jaw wasn’t clenched. His eyes weren’t narrowed.

  I kept him out, in the same way I had a moment ago. Sending a little, mental push into the room, toward the Hammer demon, I telepathed, It can’t be this simple.

  But he didn’t hear me.

  I pictured Grayson, though I didn’t know if he was even nearby, still pushing on Rowan, and asked, Testing, testing. One, two, three?

  Loud and clear, Scion. Nicely done. It
was Cyrus who’d responded. Exactly how bonded were those two males?

  “How can it be that easy?” I asked Rowan, shaking my head, eyebrows drawn.

  “It’s similar to figuring out a puzzle. Your mind needed to see the pattern. Hopefully, it’ll take effort to even project. What are you feeling at this moment?”

  I was still pissed. But I understood what he had done, and even though Rowan’s method ticked me off, I was grateful. Still skeptical, but grateful. I was a tangle of fear and tension, exhaustion and frustration, but there was an underlying hint of pride. I was happy Benn was downstairs, chatting with Cyrus probably, and completely safe with him. Contentment felt good.

  “Believe me now?” Rowan asked, and incredibly, unquestionably, yet without an explanation I could understand, he looked nicer.

  As a test—and I knew it wasn’t a human decision—I withdrew the mental push keeping Rowan out, and sent a subdued projection of being impressed. He leered and stiffened up, tensing his shoulders and hardening his stare.

  When I blocked him out, he relaxed again, but accused, “you’re messing with me.”

  I laughed, and he smiled. Really smiled. And it made me see, without a question, without second guessing or evaluating why, that he was the most handsome male I’d ever seen. All remaining wrath was washed away in a tidal wave of wow.

  But then I remembered it was just a glamour. I had no idea what Rowan looked like, what any of the demons I’d befriended looked like.

  I felt cheated.

  “What is wrong?” he asked, concern in his tone as he read my expression. But not my projections. Made me question what I’d thought before, that what he didn’t like about me was that I felt emotions. Maybe it was simply being forced to feel them that bothered him.

  “I’m fine,” I sighed, pulling my hair off my warm neck. It had been getting pretty cold with the electricity off, but I couldn’t feel it now. “Honestly? I’d like to get out of here for a while. The walls are starting to suffocate me.”

  The Hammer nodded thoughtfully as if he felt the same way, then looked sly. “We do have more training we could attempt, if you feel up for it.”