by Lil Hamilton
“And the final one.”
It was not one final shield. It was layered through my consciousness in a way he could not comprehend, unless he was raised fae and subjected to decades of mental and emotional torture. It was never completely released. That led to defeat and madness. Even beyond that, it defined how we layered our consciousness and how we spun out spells. The fae mind was a spiral of delicate shields that not only protected but guided the flow of magic and thought.
The fact was a demon was an entirely different threat and that shield didn’t protect me from them at all, only kept me separate from the more integrated elements of demon relations. When I released the first layer it expanded outward quickly, filling the area with my mental haze. When he did the same the contact jolted me.
‘Now that was not so hard, was it?’ I could hear his mental projection just as easily as if I had a spell linking our minds. I had some overpowering impressions from him. The strength of his contained desire, so far beyond lust of the moment, made me quiver. I had forgotten High Demons had telepathy, but with their open explorative auras it wasn’t surprising. Fact was, pure born High Demons got a lot of information from each other’s auras co-mingling. Deeper and more instinctual that just telepathy. Even though I had no such knowledge I thought it was rather like how people could read each other’s expressions and body language quickly and without conscious thought.
Lan smiled widely, flashing the impressive canine teeth demons had in their natural form. ‘You’re father was right. You can bond.’
I was not liking the connection at all. Every instinct in me rebelling from this close contact. It was too intimate and suddenly the whole situation made me feel far too vulnerable.
“What?” I asked trying to clear my head.
He pushed me against the wall, his eyes so black it felt like he could see right through me. I could feel the rise of his desire, the barely contained arousal within him. Feel his intense restraint and just what he wanted to do. He leaned in and kissed my shoulder. He nibbled with his sharp teeth. “Mine.”
I was so caught up in the connection to him, the tangle of desire I didn’t know what he was doing until he sank his teeth into me. Pain and arousal peaked upward. I wasn’t sure if I was responding to his fierce and primal passion or if the element of danger and having no control was enticing. I felt a rush of anger, more at my own reaction.
He released me quickly, as though sensing my rapidly changing mood. He licked the wound and then pulled back. Blood ran down my arm and chest, but the wound sealed quickly, my skin naturally returning by body to proper order once I focused on it. Yet redness remained, marring my white skin brightly and my shoulder tingled. “Freakin ouch, you bastard! I didn’t say you would freakin bite me. What the hells is up with that? Some sort of kinky demon foreplay?”
At least his action had surprised me right out of a potential demon rage.
He shrugged looking damn satisfied.
I was suddenly reminded of Sarah and how werewolves needed to mark their mates. I felt the blood drain from my face. How much did I really know about this demon mating thing? I had been isolated in Faerie for most of my life and since they were extremely prejudice about demons nothing I knew was without that taint. The decade I spent trapped in the Hells, while my father tried his forceful father daughter bonding thing, I had grasped only the basics of High Demon culture. “This is not some sort of primitive, animalistic marking of your woman is it?”
He smiled slowly. “It is a demon mark, so quite similar.”
“You bastard.”
“It’s a metaphysical warning to others that you are under my protection. Not a wedding band,” he said dryly.
“I don’t need your protection.”
“You do, from our kind. You only have a decade of training and your demon abilities are sadly lacking.”
I gave him a wary look. “So this is just a warning to any rowdy demons, then?”
He hesitated ever so slightly. “Yes.”
“Not some indication I’m your mate.”
“It is a very clear indication you’re mate potential. You’re so very difficult with your shields to be sure if we are compatible. Still it is progress. Since I‘m chosen to court you, I‘m simply openly marking that fact.”
I grimaced. Come on. That sounded like a dog marking a tree. I didn’t feel any different. No metaphysical snap of the marriage shackle. That had to be a good sign. “Well, you can’t be sure, can you? We haven’t sealed the deal.”
“Sealed the deal?” he asked, with a puzzled frown.
I wasn’t fooled. With his slow easy grins and easy laughter anyone might think he was laid back, but I knew the Hunter lurked just beneath the surface. “You know what I mean.”
“Oh, we will ‘seal the deal’ as you say.”
“You sound entirely too confident of that fact,” I said. “That’s a bit of a turn off really. You might want to work on your flirtation technique.”
“We must complete the bond or we will be driven to do so.”
I raised my brows. “Driven to do so?”
He gave me another feral grin. “Part of demon physiology. The drive to reproduce means we have a strong drive to find and secure our mates. It has been known to drive mates mad, if they are kept apart once the process is started. The only relief will be from completing the bond. Or at least testing to see if there is one.”
“You tricked me.” Fool that I was, I let it happen. I had lowered my guard just enough for him to stake his claim, deep into my flesh.
“No, of course not. I can’t be sure of it, even now. However, your father will be pleased at the fact I have determined your compatibility with demon nature. Even if I’m not the one for you.”
I immediately withdrew my essence securing it behind my expertly woven shield. Now it would take even more to get out of this with my father. I didn’t get how I could be compatible with a demon. My nature clearly followed my mother’s side. I had none of the demon perks.
He laughed. “That will not help now. I’ll let you adjust to the situation.”
He gave a bow and left the room. I wanted to stalk after him, demanding he undo it or ranting against the very idea possibility of mating with a demon. However, I was still practically nude, with drying blood on me, so I went for the shower instead. While I was in the shower I had the vague awareness of where Lan was in the house, which I hoped was just my awareness of his essence. It felt like the bite had sunken beneath my flesh and made a connection I was not sure how to cut out.
I didn’t know enough about the idea of having a bonded mate for life. Maybe Dill could explain it to me, but I doubted it very much. I understood it was a hormonal drive with were-shifters, but understanding it rationally and actually having to experience it were quite different. My plan was simply to deny it. I was fae enough to deny having such a connection and hopefully keeping it from progressing.
I tossed on a white shirt that was form fitting and light blue jeans with a slight flare. We were going to speak with witches which meant I ought to maintain a low profile. Running my hands through my hair I used a simple spell to dry and maintain its gentle curl; without magic it would be impossible to have such long hair and manage it. Then I wrapped myself in my usual glamour, a pre-worked spell that fit like a glove. It had taken me a decade to perfect it. To get the right pink tint to the skin and to make the eyes mimic the coloring to a human iris, which when you looked closely was a variety of shades and hues. Humans got totally creeped out by the blackness of demon eyes, without the whole white parts. Even demons, those aged enough, repressed their essence enough to give them at least some white to the eyes or those who could not, wore sunglasses.
As I left my bedroom I heard the knock at the door, expecting it was Dill. Normally he would walk right in, since he had a pass in my ward matrix, but since he knew I had guests he would not. He knew enough of fae protocol not to assume anything about demon culture. That was amusing, since in demon culture he
would walk on in anyway.
When I made it to the doorway Lan had Dill by the neck and was choking him against the wall. Dill had partly shifted with teeth showing and claws forming, as the change for him was an easy and a liquid thing.
“What the hells?” I said. “Unhand him immediately.”
Lan turned to me with a deep growl, an inner glow in those obsidian eyes and his canines extended out as well. I felt my body tighten and I had to take a few deep breaths, lest I go off on him. Showing aggression and attacking a friend was riling up my demon side. That pissed me off even more. I took a few steps back and tried to calm myself down. Last thing I needed to do was go ‘you won’t like me when I’m angry’ and then burst into a crazed demon that had no power except teeth and claws. Rawr, I will rend you with my little claws!
“This man’s scent is in this house, on that couch bed.”
“I’m not impressed by jealously. Or whatever it is you got in your demon mind. Dill works for me and has crashed here before, on the futon that is reserved just for cases like that and, unlike you, managed to stay there. Totally housetrained. He’s my partner and co-owner of our investigative establishment. He goes where I go.”
Dill liked to go a gambling and drinking binges when the mood struck him and sometimes he preferred to crash at my place, since often it was my poker game and booze that got him there. I was what people called an enabler. Or instigator.
“Besides, demon boy, it is hardly your concern if we did carnal fun all over this house.”
Lan released Dill and his features smoothed. “It is not jealousy. It’s to make sure this male knows his place. You’re not for him. The king has ordered a demon to have you as a mate and that is the way it will be.” That last remark turned my lips up into a smirk.
Dill snarled and took a few minutes to rein in his beast, but his eyes kept their glittering blue panther look. “She can damn well mate with who she pleases, demon. I’ll make sure she has the freedom to do so.” At least someone was defending my ’honour’. Dill threw a look at me, one of irritation. “I just walked in the door and your boyfriend attacked me.”
“He’s not my boyfriend. Potential boy toy would be more accurate.”
“You’re so screwed, dove,” Dill said shaking his head. He had spiked up his blue hair with gel, in the sloppy haphazard way and was wearing a rather snazzy tailored blue shirt with jeans. Looked good on his lean frame and the shirt brought out the sapphire blue to his kitty eyes. I never did ask why his eyes were always that of a cat. I had often wondered though, imagining that maybe you could get stuck in the shift. That had to suck. With his various eyebrow and ear piercing, and tats up the arms he looked quite intimidating when you factored in those eyes. He had the lean build of a fencer or a scraper and not one you wanted to get into a fight with. Being as he was a fae born shifter he was more panther than human, which came out sometimes in the wild and feral look in his eyes. “You’ve been marked. I can smell it from here.”
I wrinkled my nose. What was up with the shifter sense of smell? I had the stink of magic and now apparently some sort of demon odor. It really made me want to take another shower. It made me wonder if there was a way to spell a metaphysical shower. Maybe so. I could heal myself by willing myself into my natural state. Perhaps I could spell a return to my natural metaphysical state and shed whatever that demon mark did. “Just because a demon bites me doesn’t mean I’m his. I bite people all the time.”
“Tell that to him,” Dill said. “Sorry, my lovely, it happens to the best of us. You’re stuck with him now.”
I glared a mighty and fierce fae glare at Lan, but took a moment to admire his attire. He looked as smooth as velvet and in fact the black jacket he wore was velvet, with a sleek white shirt under it and black trousers. To make the image perfect he wore round hippy spectacles with a red tint. I felt rather shabby in my Human blending attire.
“I’m not stuck with anything. If it comes down to it I’ll make him think he is madly in love with the poodle down the street.” I laughed at the visual it brought to mind. “Actually, that sounds like a plan.”
Dill flashed Lan a knowing look, which caused Lan to smile slightly. Great, now they were all buddy-buddy and sharing manly silent codes. “Ray, I’m sorry but I’m sure you’re aware that some shape shifters were created from demon-hybrid relations?”
“Of course. Stupid bloody wolves for one.”
“Well, you know how it irks you to no end when an operative like Sarah packs up? How they can be so loyal to their pack, to their mate that nothing else matters?”
“I know. It’s very irksome. I don’t get the phenomena at all.”
“You’re too fae,” Dill said. “Raised in a completely different environment, to the fact you don’t even get your other side. Think of the werewolf phenomena as the physical and animal orientated version of the demon, more metaphysical, mate bond. The decidedly weaker version. When they get an inkling someone is compatible they are bound and determined to find out. And the pheromones will make you pretty damn riled up too.”
I opened my mouth and then closed it. I remember demons were so emotional and that made them unpredictable. And their power was all elemental based, at least in the high court. Seelie magic and society was all about control; your perception of reality, your will, enforced over another. This mating bond was something beyond my control and I rebelled at the very thought of it.
I glared at Lan, daring him to even attempt to make any unwelcome demands on me. He had a decidedly stubborn look, very tantalizing and brooding, but nevertheless I felt a battle of wills coming on. One I would win. Now that he had determined, or sensed, my demon nature, he was hell bent on breaking down my shields and testing me for this bonding. I would like to see him try. I was playing nice, but that didn’t mean I had to actually create such a bond, only pretend I was trying.
Dill chuckled. “Don’t worry so. It’s not like were-shifters, where there is the whole dominance thing. This demon link is both ways. No one holds power over the other, or you each hold power over the other.”
“Like that’s better.”
“And you know this how, shifter?” Lan asked, his voice smooth but holding a barely veiled threat.
“I’m a panther shifter,” Dill hissed followed by a rumbling growl. And that did explain all. Panther’s in their roots held fae DNA and so during the last major war were held to the fae, used as fodder and almost obliterated. Dill had a vast resource of information about both sides and was so old he had the added boost of longevity over weaker shifters. I really didn’t know how old he was, but I knew his connections among shifters ran deep. Hells, some of the younger ones worshiped him as legendary. I’d once seen him lick his own butt in kitty form and that kinda dampened any desire to worship him.
I felt the tension in the room as they both flexed their metaphysical muscles. It made my skin itch. All that power bulking up around me. I almost expected the fur to fly, literally, but they both slowly choked down their response. I made a dramatic gesture while I strung together a simple attire altering spell. With a puff of sparkles my attire shifted to an orange bowler hat, a fae style small white corset covered with an orange velvet blazer and pale orange slacks. I was not about to be out snazzed by these boys. “Well, boys, let’s go party like its 1822.”
Lan gave me a puzzled frown but Dill laughed. “She’s calling you old, dude.”
“I’m calling you both old, as thus verified by your usage of the word dude. Let’s just go.”
Chapter 7
Let’s party like it’s 1822
We all piled into my cream coloured mini cooper. Lan passed out some drawings of Lily for us to hand out or show. I drove like I was in a race. Accelerating quickly, speeding and taking corners fast. With my iPod attached and blaring out a Coldplay list. Screw teleportation and fae circles. Nothing beat racing down the streets in a Mini. That is until Lan’s aura seeped into it and then it was all silence from there.
“Sorr
y.”
I flashed him a glare in my rear view mirror and pressed the pedal to the metal. We pulled into the already packed parking lot of the hottest Other race night club called Relations. I put the car into park and said, “Okay, so we mingle it up a bit and see if anyone knows about a missing witch or has worked with one with our description. Dill can hit the shifters, god knows, most of them don’t listen to me. But maybe they have seen the faelings around here. I’ll chat up the witches. Chera will likely get more from those that hang in joints I’m not welcome in, but I can handle the grays that swing it here. Keep an ear open for any chatter on missing demi or faelings. Inter has reported some and we know of some. Let’s see if there is any more, or worse, any rumors in the witch community. If we have harvesters in town they will be on the down low hiding in the Gutters or the Warrens, but there will be word on the street. Lan, you can lurk in the background so you don’t scare the natives.”
Lan scowled. Poor boy was used to hunting down demons gone bad or killing black witches who called demons. That was way more action than he was going to get trailing after me. I could only hope to bore him back to the Hells. I could use his skills certainly, especially to track others who were missing but he was too obvious and I couldn’t have it be known he was in town searching for anyone.
“And don’t get close to the electrical system.”
“I can contain my essence.”
“Hey, tell that to my stereo,” I muttered getting out. As we approached the doors I shed my glamour. There was a long line up at the door. Mostly lower turned vampires and shape-shifters from out of town. We bypassed it and I flashed a grin at the two troll bodyguards, disguised with illusions to not scare the natives. “Rodney, Wilhelm, nice to see you both.”