He turned on the blonde, not surprised to find she was alone.
The third daemon had turned back, fleeing for the shadows.
Marek needed to wrap this up fast, before darkness fell and that daemon joined the fight again, and so he could check on Caterina. She muttered curses behind him, the sound of them reassuring him that she was fine, but a little angry.
“If I had my blade,” she growled and he tossed her a look that said even if she had been armed, he wouldn’t have let her fight.
Not this time.
Vampires were strong, but these daemons were stronger and they had built-in weaponry. The blonde lashed at him with her claws, driving him back towards Caterina. So she could get a shot at her? It wasn’t going to happen.
Marek used telekinesis to throw sand in her face.
And his power to summon a wall around Caterina, one that closed her in on all sides and was three feet of baked-solid earth, far too tough for a daemon to penetrate.
“What the hell?” Caterina’s voice rose over the high wall. “Marek?”
“I’ll explain later. Little busy.”
The daemon recovered, launching herself at him on a vicious snarl that flashed twin rows of sharp teeth. Her lips peeled back from them, her smile so wide it almost reached her ears as they grew pointed. He backhanded her, sending her tumbling into the second daemon as she managed to claw her way out of the sand.
No longer looking human.
Dark burgundy scales covered every inch of her, a contrast to the pale bony protrusions on her elbows and shoulders, and the line of spikes down her spine, and the three horns that flared back from either side of her head.
Her tongue flickered out, forked and black, and her yellow eyes dimmed as a film closed over them from the outer edge of her eyes towards the twin holes that now passed as her nose.
At least he knew for sure they were one of the lizard-like shifter breeds.
Which meant conventional means of attacking them was out of the window. They possessed the ability to harden their scales, protecting them from blows that would otherwise sever a limb or pierce an organ.
But they could only shield small areas at a time, not the whole of their body.
So he just needed to hit them with an attack that would rip through every inch of them and then he was sure to deliver a fatal blow.
Or he needed to knock them out.
Marek focused on the blonde as the other daemon made a break for the high wall he had built around a now furious Caterina. She hollered abuse at him, banging on the thick curving wall.
He dodged the blow the blonde aimed at him and teleported behind her, grabbed her from behind and got her into a chokehold. He gripped his wrist, pulling hard on it so his forearm dug into her throat. She wriggled and snarled as he heaved backwards, lifting her feet from the sand.
Sharp pain shot in a line down his chest.
“Son of a—” He tossed her aside and gritted his teeth, fury building inside him as he looked down at his shirt and found a series of holes in it.
And his body.
The female rolled into a squat and hissed at him, baring fangs as the spikes down her spine retracted.
He scuffed sand into her face and followed it as she reared up to avoid it, barrelling into her and lifting her from the ground. She clawed at him and he wrestled with her, managed to get hold of both of her wrists and slammed his forehead into hers. Stars winked across his eyes and he was sure his skull had just cracked, but the attack had the desired effect.
The blonde hung limp from his arms.
Marek released her and swiftly brought both of his hands up. A huge spear of earth shot up, pierced her chest and lifted her with it as it grew in size and impaled her. She dangled from it, arms and legs splayed, head tilted back and unseeing eyes fixed on the darkening sky.
The other daemon halted her attempts to break through the earth wall and looked across at her fallen comrade.
Her yellow eyes grew impossibly large and she shrieked, the keening sound hurting his eardrums. He flinched away. She was on him before he could recover, claws shredding his shirt, cutting close to his face. He clenched his jaw and grappled with her, and when catching hold of one of her arms didn’t stop her, he twisted and slammed her into the sand. Her breath left her on a fetid rush, carrying the scent of her foul blood.
Marek shoved a knee into her chest, pinning her down, and gripped both sides of her head as she struggled and twisted hard.
Bones snapped.
The daemon went limp.
He rose to his feet, sucked down a breath to shut down the pain from the lacerations covering every inch of his chest, and exhaled, his shoulders sagging with it as he sensed that he and Caterina were alone.
The third daemon was long gone.
Not a soul other than him and Caterina was in the vicinity.
His gaze slowly tracked to the wall that shielded Caterina. She had gone quiet. His senses fixed on her, the need to hear her heart beating and her panicked breaths, to know that she was alive and had survived the fight, overwhelming him. He crossed the stretch of sand between him and her, his pace quickening as he lifted his hand and focused on the thick earth wall.
“Marek?” she whispered, fear lacing her voice, tugging at his heart.
She worried for him.
He couldn’t remember the last time a woman had worried about him.
A time long ago flashed into his mind and he barely bit back the need to snarl, because that woman hadn’t really cared about him. It had all been a lie. A manipulation. Her betrayal had proven that.
“I’m fine, Caterina.” He couldn’t stop those words from leaving his lips, the need to reassure her and soothe her fears pulling them from him, straight up from his heart.
A heart that beat with a need to see her, to see that she was fine too.
The earth wall cracked, fissures forming as he exerted his will on it, and Caterina gasped as it crumbled before him, a whole section falling away to land with a hard thud on the sand between them.
Her eyes leaped from it to him and the relief that washed across her face flowed through him too.
Until he noticed that she was still holding her arm.
The blood was dark on her skin, turned his stomach and had his chest tightening as he held his hand out to her, needing her to come to him. She stepped over the remains of the wall and picked her way over the boulders of baked earth, struggling for balance whenever one of the pieces wobbled beneath her weight.
Marek met her at the edge of one of the larger sections and took her left hand, holding it gently so he didn’t hurt her as he guided her down to the sand.
By the time she reached him, the light had faded, but he could still see well enough that he cursed when he removed her hand from her arm and saw the two lacerations that cut across her arm.
“Fucking daemons,” he snarled and ghosted his thumb over the wounds, a black need to hunt blasting through him as he stared at it. “They are vermin worse than the vampires. I will hunt the third one down, and when I catch it, I will tear it apart with my bare hands.”
Caterina took a step back, the scent of her fear increasing as she covered the wound on her arm again. Her hand shook against it. No. Not just her hand. The need pounding in his veins grew darker, more demanding as he realised the whole of her was shaking.
“Caterina,” he murmured, an apology in it because he was sure he was the one who frightened her now.
He stepped up to her, cupped her cheek and stared down into her eyes, fighting for the words he wanted to say to her as feelings collided inside him, a tangle of relief and anger… and need.
That need built rapidly as he looked at her, as he saw that she was all right, until he could no longer deny it.
He dropped his head and pressed his lips to hers, and the rage burning in his blood gave way under the sweet relief that rushed through him when she kissed him back, her mouth playing against his, the softness of her kiss chasing the
darkness from his heart and filling it with light.
Marek sank into the kiss, drew her closer and deepened it.
Her tongue tangled with his.
A strange sensation swept through him and he frowned as it grew stronger, unsettling him even when he couldn’t put his finger on what it was that was wrong.
He frowned as he kissed her, as she pressed closer and took hold of him, her hands trembling as she gripped his biceps. Her need rolled through him, drugging him with the thought of satisfying it for her, of satisfying both of them.
But the weird feeling grew stronger.
And stronger.
And then it hit him.
She tasted different.
Wrong.
He pulled back as every instinct fired inside him, grabbed her by her arms and shoved her away from him. The scent that had been building around her, triggering one of his deepest instincts, grew so strong that he couldn’t deny it, even when part of him desperately wanted to, was seeking excuses even as the truth hit him like a one-two punch in the chest from a gorgon.
Marek stared at her arm where he gripped it, at the blood that eased from between his fingers and trickled down her arm.
She couldn’t be.
He brought that hand away from her, turned it towards him and stared at it in the low light. It shook, trembling so badly he couldn’t focus on it as he splayed his fingers, as he drew down a deep breath to catch the scent of her blood.
Three words ran around his head on repeat. Please be wrong.
He lifted his hand to his face and sniffed.
The vile edge to the coppery scent of her blood was unmistakable.
“Daemon!” He shoved her backwards, sending her staggering over the mounds of earth blocks.
She stumbled and fell, landed hard on her back on the sand, her breath leaving her on a pained cry that ripped at his heart. He slammed the door to it shut, refusing to let her affect it.
Tears glistened on her cheeks as she struggled to her feet, the hurt in her hazel eyes threatening to break down the barriers the darker side of him had constructed around his heart, and built between them. She brushed the tangled waves of her caramel hair from her face and the pain that had been in her eyes morphed to fear and then something else.
“You didn’t seem to care about it a moment ago.” Her words lashed at him, fury making each one as sharp as a blade, and they cut him deep, severing the part of him that had foolishly clung to the belief that his instincts were mistaken and she wasn’t a daemon. She clenched her hands at her sides, her fists shaking as she stared him down. “Unless that moan had been a protest?”
She mimicked it.
Marek snarled at her, baring his teeth as his canines began to extend, the darker part of him coming to the fore as his entire world seem to crumble around him. A voice deep within mocked him, hurling images of his past at him and all the lessons he should have learned back then.
Never trust women.
Never let one into your heart.
He felt weak as he stared at her, as he fought the feelings that still burned inside him, refusing to die even as he tried to vanquish them. They weren’t real. Everything between them had been a lie.
A manipulation.
And he had fallen for it all over again.
His heart caught fire, the flames as black as midnight, rapidly consuming it and replacing his softer emotions, his weaker self, with emptiness that morphed into a rage so deep he lost control.
On a vicious growl, he stepped and appeared right in front of her.
He launched his bloodied right hand out and gripped her throat, tore a terrified gasp from her as he lifted her feet from the sand and held her aloft. He stared into her wide eyes and shook her, an anguished snarl pealing from between his clenched teeth as he fought for control, some command over the pain devouring him as it dredged up a thousand memories he wanted to forget and connected them to the woman before him.
Her face crumpled as she fought for breath, her face reddening and legs flailing, her fear hitting him hard and threatening to overwhelm him. He fought it too, because he wouldn’t be weak again.
Never again.
She lifted her hands and gripped his forearm.
“You dare touch me, daemon?” He went to tighten his hold on her, a grip that would choke the last of the air from her lungs.
“You. Touched. Me.” She squeezed each word out, the hoarse wheezy sound of them hitting him hard and rattling him.
His eyes leaped to his hand.
Widened as he saw black claws pressing into her delicate flesh, spilling blood down her neck, and the dark rings of bruises beneath his fingers.
He reeled, blinking hard as he dropped her to the sand and stumbled backwards. His ears rang, the darkness that had been consuming every part of him losing its hold as cold swept through him, a numbing sort of iciness that had him close to falling to his knees.
Caterina choked down breaths as she rubbed her throat, as tears cut down her cheeks and glistened in the brightening moonlight.
Marek reached for her, driven by a need to comfort her, but stopped himself. She was a daemon. What was he doing?
As her breaths grew stronger, she slowly straightened, and the coldness in her eyes as she fixed them on him sent another wave of chilling ice through his blood.
But it was the other feelings he could see in them that had his resolve wavering, his lingering feelings for her breaking through the restraints he had placed on them, fighting every instinct he had and demanding he go to her.
Reproach.
Hurt.
Fear.
Her brow furrowed and for a heartbeat, she looked as if more tears would come, but then she swallowed hard and scrubbed a hand across her cheeks, and glared at him.
“You kissed me.” She held her throat as she spoke, each hoarse word another blade in his heart, a reminder of what he had done.
She was a daemon.
Everything had been a lie.
A manipulation.
He clung to that, used it to stoke his fury back to life, until his darker side stirred again, rising to push back against the feelings she was trying to evoke in him. It was a lie. She was still manipulating him, bending him to her will. She was a daemon.
His sworn enemy.
She sucked down another shuddering, wheezing breath.
Her fine eyebrows furrowed, the fire in her eyes fading as she looked at him.
“I wanted to tell you. Doesn’t that count for something?” Her eyes searched his and he made damn sure she saw only darkness in them, only the side of him that hunted her kind, because it was all she deserved to see. She managed another breath and looked down at her bloodstained hand. Tears cut down her cheeks. “I don’t want this. I don’t want to be this. I didn’t have a choice.”
Marek frowned at her.
She shook her head, sending more tears tumbling.
“I just want things back to how they were,” she whispered, and he wanted to tell her that wasn’t possible, because it had all been a lie constructed by her, a daemon. She curled her fingers into a fist and before he could line up the words, she yelled, “I just want this damned blood out of mine!”
She disappeared.
Marek blinked hard, mind reeling from the shock of seeing her teleport and what she had said.
He stared at where she had been, feeling cold from head to toe now that she was gone, even when he had wanted that. Hadn’t he?
He had wanted her away from him.
She was a daemon.
Her words taunted him.
She wanted the blood out of hers.
He frowned as he lowered his gaze to the sand just in front of his feet and tracked back over the last two days. She had said she was sick, and tonight she had called it an infection. She had been distant, had withdrawn from him more than once, not wanting him to touch her.
Because she had feared he would discover the daemon blood in her.
Blood that wasn�
�t her own?
Was it possible someone had infected her?
His gut twisted at the thought that it might be, the violent way he had reacted to her replaying in his head to twist it tighter still, until he felt sick.
The way she had looked at him in the moments before she had somehow teleported were branded on his mind, and seared on his heart. The pain in her eyes had been genuine, and the fear hadn’t stemmed from what he had done to her or what he might do to her.
She was afraid of what was happening to her.
Her voice echoed in his ears, a desperate declaration that she had wanted to tell him.
But she hadn’t, because she had known how he would react.
He clenched his fists and relished the pain when his short claws cut into his palms because if his suspicions were right, he deserved to feel it.
He wasn’t sure he was right though, or whether this was all another lie, an elaborate one designed to make him believe her so she could get close to him again.
Marek shoved his fingers through his hair and pulled it back.
He wanted to believe her, and that was a problem.
He was too close to this, to her. He couldn’t think objectively, was blinded by his feelings for her but also jaded by his past, and a slave to his instincts. The three sides of him made it impossible to look at all the facts without being affected by at least one of them.
Which meant one thing.
If he was going to discover the truth, he was going to have to do something that might only make things worse.
He was going to have to tell his brothers.
Chapter 14
Caterina sank to her backside as she appeared on a dark roof close to the beach, shock and adrenaline combining to turn her legs to rubber beneath her. She sat there, thoughts spinning, entire body quaking as she stared blankly ahead of her at the horizon.
Had she just teleported?
She found that hard to believe, even when all the evidence pointed to yes as the answer to that question. She could teleport now.
Marek: Guardians of Hades Series Book 4 Page 15