Realm Walker rw-1

by Kathleen Collins

  “Michael Bishop.”

  It looked back at Michael with narrowed eyes. Then its mouth curled up into a wicked little smirk. “You want her? You can have her.”

  She flew through the air and bounced off the thick metal bars that made up the front of the cell. The middle of her spine connected first and shards of pain shot up to her skull and across her shoulders. She lay where she fell, a crumpled pile on the floor. She didn’t move, didn’t think. She just hurt. A lot. A hand lay against her side and she realized Michael was saying her name. From the sounds of it, he’d said it several times without getting a response.

  She tried to say “yes” but it came out as a groan instead.

  “Juliana?” he said again.

  She tilted her head so she could see him and tried to ignore the screaming pain the motion brought with it. Footsteps moved across the floor and Michael looked past her to the demon.

  “Crap.” Her exclamation drew Michael’s attention. “Sprinklers,” she said.

  “What?” he asked, rising with her as the demon picked her up with his arms behind her shoulders and her knees. It moved toward the lone piece of furniture in the cell, a cot bolted down in the middle of the floor.

  She looked past Thomas’s shoulder to Michael. “Turn on the cursed sprinklers.”

  Michael still looked confused, but he hurried to do as she said.

  “The water will not harm me, Hound, regardless of what you may have heard about my kind and running water,” the demon said.

  Since it had been raining the night she first encountered it, she kind of thought that was a given. She didn’t know anyone that believed the running water myth anymore and it usually referred to rivers anyway. Stupid demon. Its hold on her was gentle but she had a hard time believing he intended to lay her down and nurse her back to health.

  “What to do with you, Juliana? I could snap your neck and be released from this realm. My master however would not take kindly to me causing you pain. And this host is being most verbal about his disapproval.”

  “Well, you’re just all kinds of conflicted, aren’t you?”

  Before it could answer, water began to spray from the sprinklers placed throughout the cell. The moment the first of the spray touched the demon, it howled and dropped her. For the third time, she hit the floor with a thud. She’d just as soon not do it again.

  She lay there to get her bearings while the demon howled above her and waves of agony radiated through her with every movement. Finally, she managed to get on her hands and knees and half-crawled, half-scrabbled for the cell door. Michael waited on the other side, ready to unlock it the moment she reached it. The demon stayed frozen in place behind her, back arched in pain while it screamed in rage. When she got close enough, Michael flung open the door, grabbed her and pulled her through. He slammed the door and locked it.

  She made it to the wall across from the cell and sat with her back against it. She panted through her pain while the demon writhed in his. Running water may not hurt the thing, but holy water sure did.

  “Interesting set-up you got here,” Michael said, indicating the cell behind him.

  “It has its uses,” she agreed. “Is all the blood off yet?” She’d prefer not to see her dead friend’s blood covering her mate from head to toe any longer than necessary.

  Michael looked the demon over before turning back to her. “I think he’s as clean as he’s going to get.”

  “All right. Turn them off.”

  He went to the end of the hall and pushed a button. The water shut off, though a few drips still fell here and there.

  The demon’s shoulders were rigid with tension when it turned to show her eyes pure black with rage. “You twisted, insignificant thing,” it spat, a guttural sound that had no place coming from her mate’s mouth.

  “Sorry. Did that sting?” she asked. Michael sat beside her, took her arm and pulled it into his lap to examine her wrist. He was careful not to injure her further.

  “You little whore.” The demon leaped across the cell. It wrapped its hands around the bars in front of her only to hiss and jerk them back. It frowned down at them, turning them as if looking for a defect.

  “Blessed metal,” she enlightened him. “And the walls are set with mortar mixed with holy water. You’re just in your own little version of hell, aren’t you?”

  Michael grabbed a first aid kit from somewhere and used its contents to dress the wound in her wrist. “This is not good, Juliana.”

  She shrugged one shoulder. “It’ll be all right. Just wrap it up.”

  The demon began to pace in the small area directly in front of her. She kept her eyes locked on him, watching every movement. “Did Catalina do as I asked?” she spoke to Michael, but kept her eyes on the demon.

  “It came through right before I got here,” he said. “You’re going to have problems with your boss over this one.”

  She knew she would, she just didn’t care. Her job, which had seemed so important to her before was now just a tool she could use to help Thomas.

  A muscle twitched in his jaw and the demon turned to her with a hiss. “You will release me.”

  “You know how to get out.” The demon might not be able to leave the cell, but it could leave its host and then she’d be more than happy to send it home. Hopefully it would stay there.

  “If you think to force me to leave this host, I will shred his mind on my way out. Vampire he may be, but I will make sure he will never be whole again. Now release me.”

  She glanced down the hall when the door at the end swung open and a ghost stepped through. Nathaniel stood there looking whole and unharmed. As solid as he looked, she knew he couldn’t be real. She pushed herself up the wall and walked toward him.

  He gave her a sheepish smile when she approached. “Jeremiah told me I better get down here and show you I was all right.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “You’re not dead?”

  “Do I look dead?” he asked.

  She reached out a hand and pushed against his chest causing him to rock back on his heels. “You’re not dead,” she said again, only this time it wasn’t a question. Her friend wasn’t dead, hadn’t been killed by the demon riding Thomas. Her fingers curled into the palm of her hand as she drew back her arm. Then she punched him in the stomach as hard as she could. “You selfish son of a bitch.”

  Nathaniel grunted and curled around himself protectively. He gasped in a mouthful of air. “What the hell was that for?”

  “You let me think you were dead.”

  “It wasn’t my fault,” he protested. “I told you they had me on psych leave. No one tells me anything.”

  She clenched her jaw, not ready to forgive him yet. “Who was it?”

  He straightened most of the way upright and ran a hand through his hair. “Some rookie that came by to check in. I was complaining about it and he was more than willing to go for me. I figured what the hell. If I’d known...”

  If he’d known, he would have gone. And he’d be dead. While part of her grieved for the agent that had died in his place, she couldn’t squash the overwhelming relief she felt that he was alive. She punched him again, softer this time and in the shoulder. “Don’t you ever die on me again. I don’t like it.”

  “You’re one to talk.”

  She scowled at him and went back to her spot on the floor.

  “Was that a dog joke?”

  She frowned at him. “What are you talking about?”

  “You called me a son of a bitch.”

  Closing her eyes, she shook her head. Leave it to Nathaniel to find humor even in a situation like this.

  He wandered over, hands in his pockets, eyes on the demon. “Why is Kendrick in the demon dungeon?”

  “They really don’t tell you anything, do they?” she said. “He is our demon.”

  His eyes widened. “Are you telling me that your master vampire is playing host to a first-level demon?”

  “That would be an accurate assessmen
t of the situation,” Michael answered.

  “What are you going to do?”

  “We’re still working on that.” She wasn’t about to admit that she had absolutely no plan. Well, she had a plan. It just wasn’t much of one. The fact that she had the only demon-slaying sword in residence would buy her some space, some respect amongst the parties involved. But they weren’t going to wait forever for her to fix this. Eventually they’d get tired of waiting for results and come in and take over. If they did that, Thomas was dead.

  “You’ve got to destroy the host, Jules,” Nathaniel said, looking down at her.

  “Can’t,” she said.

  “Don’t be stupid, pup.” He bit out the words. “You risk us all by letting it continue to live in our world. If you can’t kill your boyfriend, I’ll do it for you.”

  “Actually you won’t,” Michael said. “The Council has received a court order prohibiting the extermination of the vampire Thomas Kendrick for forty-eight hours, provided that he is contained and not a threat to the general populace.”

  She glanced at him. “They did put in a clause for release if the demon’s gone, right?”

  Michael nodded.

  “Are you crazy?” Nathaniel said.

  She turned back to him, her brows arched. “What makes you think I had anything to do with it?”

  He blew out a breath. “Please, this has you written all over it. No wonder Ben’s pissed. You can’t save everyone, Jules. You just can’t.”

  “I saved you and I’m going to save him.” She had no idea how, but that had never stopped her before.

  The demon continued to pace but she knew it was listening to their conversation.

  “Why are you doing this to yourself? Prolonging this is only going to make it worse in the end.”

  She clenched her jaw. “If you can’t contribute, you can leave.”

  “Be reasonable,” he pleaded.

  “Leave,” Michael said.

  “Excuse me?”

  Michael turned to meet Nathaniel’s eyes. “Leave now or I will throw you in the cell with it and you can see how much damage you can do before it rips off your head and laps up the blood. Is that clear enough for you?”

  Nathaniel paled. “I don’t think that was necessary.”

  She sighed and ran a hand down her face. “Just go.”

  He looked like he was going to protest, but he finally shook his head and went back through the door.

  “Pity,” the demon said. “I would have enjoyed playing with him.”

  “I think you and your pet played with Nathaniel enough, don’t you?”

  The demon thought for a moment. “No, actually. So, Hound, will you do it? At the end of your forty-eight hours, will you destroy this host to be rid of me? I think not.”

  She didn’t think so either. Her feelings for Thomas aside, he was a master vampire. In order to kill him, he had to be drained completely of blood. Somehow she didn’t think the demon was going to wait patiently while she did it.

  The demon smiled when she didn’t answer. “If you won’t kill me, you might as well let me out. I’ll find a new host and leave this one.”

  “Silence,” Michael ordered. He pulled out a small blade and began flipping it over his knuckles. Back and forth, back and forth. She’d seen him do it before, but never ceased to be amazed he didn’t cut himself in the process. Not that it would matter much if he did. He said he found the motion relaxing. It made her nervous.

  She sat cross-legged and laid her injured arm in her lap. Blood seeped through the bandage in a couple of places. She looked up when the demon crouched in front of her. “Let me out or regret it forever.”

  “What could you possibly do to me from in there?”

  “I’m only in here for the moment.” It straightened slowly and frowned down at her. “And when I free myself from this cage, I will cause you pain in ways you cannot possibly imagine.”

  “I don’t know about that,” she said. “I’ve got a pretty vivid imagination.”

  “It’s true. She does,” Michael added, making her smile.

  “Speaking of,” she said and held her injured arm out to him. “Help me with this, would you?”

  He furrowed his brow.

  “Blood calls blood. It’s time for daddy to lend a helping hand.”

  A wicked smile lit his face.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Michael took the blade he was playing with, sliced a neat line through the layers of Juliana’s bandage and peeled it off. He tossed it aside.

  “Go kill the camera at the end of the hallway,” she told him.

  He jogged to stand underneath it, jumped up and pulled it off the wall. He used his knife to slice through the wires.

  She dropped her chin to her chest and took a deep breath before looking back up at him. “When I said ‘kill the camera’ I didn’t mean it literally. There’s a button on the control panel.”

  He glanced at it, shrugged and threw the camera over his shoulder. She couldn’t imagine why her headache kept getting worse.

  “Just make sure we’re not disturbed,” she told him. He leaned against the door.

  She dipped her finger into her wound, wincing at the pain. Using her blood, she sketched an image on the floor of the hallway.

  “What are you doing?” the demon asked, turning its head from side to side in an attempt to get a better view.

  She ignored it and continued to draw until she had a rough representation of a rowan tree. It was a good thing the power behind the image depended on her intentions rather than her artistic ability. The rowan tree was a symbol of power for the fae. It featured in many of their myths and was even thought to have played a part in the creation of the first fae. It was a sacred symbol and she was using it to call one of the higher gods of the dark fae.

  She flung a few droplets of blood across the image. “By blood I call blood. Aeron Rowantree, I summon thee.”

  The air over the image began to simmer and then take shape. The man that stood in front of her was slightly taller than she was, but sported her raven hair and green eyes. He was all angles and edges, only his hair broke up the hardness. It was pulled back into a loose ponytail though on occasion he left it to flow in soft waves around his shoulders. He smiled when he saw her. “You have summoned me. What is it you desire?”

  She lifted her chin to indicate the cell behind him. He turned and waved a hand through the air, freezing the demon and its host in place. “Why are you in my daughter’s mate?”

  A peek at Michael showed his eyes widen briefly and his jaw set at the statement. Juliana rose to her feet when she realized her father had control of the demon. “I thought you couldn’t control demons that didn’t belong to you.”

  “Yes, well...” Her father shifted on his feet.

  She narrowed her eyes. “I thought you didn’t like demons. That you didn’t keep any because you didn’t have a use for them.” She’d summoned him hoping only that he would be able to identify who it belonged to.

  “That might not have been the whole truth.” He held up his hands in surrender. “I didn’t see the point in telling you. You seemed to dislike them so much and it wasn’t like I thought you were ever going to meet one.”

  Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and struggled to retain her hold on her temper. “Did it tell you why it’s here?” she asked finally, knowing he could communicate with his minions telepathically.

  He shook his head. “Not really. It appears to be beyond reason with fear.” His gaze fell on her arm and the symbol on which he still stood. “Did it hurt you?”

  “Take care of the door before we get into this, would you?” she gestured to the end of the hall where Michael still stood.

  Her dad absently waved a hand in that direction.

  Michael jerked upright. “Hey, watch it.”

  Aeron arched a brow in response. “I would think one as old as you would know to get out of the way when a god is casting spells.”

 
She waved her arm in front of them, reminding them of what they’d been discussing. “It didn’t do this, but it would have killed me if I hadn’t killed its host at the time. I guess now I understand why it kept telling me its master would kill it if it hurt me.”

  Her father frowned and rubbed his chin with his hand. “You asked me not to tell anyone of our connection, as you feared the information getting into the wrong hands and I have not. I merely instructed my people to leave you and yours alone. I told them you were under my protection.”

  “Gods, Dad. Why don’t you just give Pandora a box and tell her not to open it?”

  His frown turned into a scowl. “I thought we’d agreed never to discuss that.”

  “If you didn’t want it brought up, you shouldn’t have told me.”

  “Yes, so you keep reminding me.”

  “Can you fix this?” Michael interrupted.

  Her father turned his scowl on her friend. “Yes, Michael. I can fix this.”

  Michael wisely said nothing. As much as Aeron liked him, he wouldn’t tolerate disrespect from anyone.

  “Someone summoned it to kill me,” she said.

  His face darkened in fury. “Who?”

  “I’m guessing Raoul, but I don’t know for sure.”

  He pressed himself against the bars and laid a hand on top of Thomas’s head. She’d seen him do it before to shuffle through someone’s memories. After several long moments, he turned back to her with a sigh. “The spell that summoned him prevents him from revealing who it was. It also prevents him from leaving your realm even if we do manage to get him out of your mate.”

  Michael leaned forward, cocking his head to the side. “Are you telling me that no matter what we do, we are stuck with a first-level demon in this realm?”

  Her father shook his head. “There are two ways to return him to my lands. Only one is a viable option, but even it seems unlikely.”

  When he said nothing further, she piped up. “Well, what are they?”