by Michele Hauf
Gloriana heaved out a sigh. “She was devastated by your loss. And then with the divorce... Well, she’s been through a lot. But it has been twenty years. She might be able to face this new trial. And it’s not a trial, is it? She’d be getting her daughter back.”
“Gloriana, did my mother ever tell you I was adopted?”
“No. I’d forgotten about that. Oh, dear, I must confess something to you. Your mother had never mentioned anything of the sort to me, but when I was looking for things to rescue from your abandoned house, I did happen upon the adoption papers. It was a surprise to me at the time. And I haven’t looked in the envelope I stuffed all that information into for...well, over a decade. You just reminded me of that now. Is that the first you learned, when reading those papers?”
“Yes. It was a surprise.”
“I’m sorry. But you must know your parents loved you so much.”
“I do know that. And I can accept it. But I’m still not sure it would be wise to contact my mother. And if I did? How to tell her the truth? She would never believe I’ve spent the past twenty years living amongst demons,” Jett said plainly.
“Most certainly not. I think it best you maintain the story Savin initially told the police about being abducted.”
“Perhaps. I’d have to invent some details. I’ll think about it. I want you to know, Gloriana, that Savin can trust me. I promise you. I’m not...evil.” At least, she hoped she was not.
“Yes, well, I hadn’t considered that until you brought it up.” She angled across the street toward their departing point. “Do you know Savin once told me something when he was nine? He said he was going to marry you when he grew up. And he might even consider kissing you, too.”
“He did?” Jett felt a blush ride the back of her neck. Well, she’d felt the same way then. Yet it hadn’t been an adult longing, a sensual kind of attraction between them then. Kid stuff.
Things had changed. He’d kissed her. And so much more.
“Yes, and I would pat his head and tell him he should go right ahead and do that. But to wait until he got a bit older.” Gloriana sighed heavily as they neared the front door of Savin’s building. “But now?”
Jett brushed her palms together to disperse a few cake crumbs. “Now?”
“I have to be honest, Jett, I certainly hope you don’t attempt to sway my son’s head toward his ridiculous childhood fantasy of marriage. I could not condone it.”
Jett’s jaw dropped open.
“If what Savin has told me is true, you’re a...why, you’re a creature.”
“I, uh—no,” Jett said on a gasp. Tears pooled at the corners of her eyes.
“Oh, cherie, I know you didn’t ask to be taken away and kept amongst those nasty creatures, but it’s the truth. And my son has only ever fought to keep the streets of Paris safe from your sort.”
The way she said your sort hurt Jett’s heart.
Gloriana ignored Jett’s obvious dismay. “You have to look at things from his perspective. He rids the city of demons. You are one of those...awful things.”
Over Gloriana’s shoulder Jett noticed a figment of black mist forming. Her senses immediately picked up demon, and the sulfurous scent spilled into the air and her nostrils. Along with that she could only think, Danger.
She grabbed Gloriana by the shoulder. “You need to get inside now!”
“Unhand me!” The woman shook off Jett’s grip and clutched her purse to her chest. “You see? You’re wild. A thing!”
“It’s coming at you!” Jett lunged to push Gloriana against the brick wall.
As she did so, she heard Savin shout from down the sidewalk, “No!”
Chapter 22
At sight of Jett attacking his mother, Savin charged forward. He managed to shove her away and wrapped an arm around his mother, moving in front of her to block her from Jett.
“What the hell?” he blasted at Jett.
“Didn’t you see it? The mist demon?” Jett protested.
He had not seen anything but Jett attacking his mother. And if a demon had been that close to Gloriana, he would have seen it, no matter its speed. Savin turned his back to Jett and slid his hand down the side of his mother’s head as he inspected her face. “Are you okay?”
She was startled but smiled up at him. “Yes, I’m fine. I’m glad you arrived when you did.” She glanced over his shoulder to Jett. “What’s wrong with her?”
“It wasn’t me,” Jett insisted from behind him. “There was a demon.”
“I didn’t sense anything,” Savin said. “A mist demon? Those are obvious, Jett.”
Jett dropped her mouth open, at a loss for words.
“I’m going to take my mother home. All right, Maman?”
“Yes, please, Savin. I’m feeling shaken. I was only being nice to her.”
“It’s okay. Where’s your car?”
“I didn’t drive here. I took the metro.”
“My truck is in the lot. Come on.”
With an arm around his mother’s shoulders, he walked away from Jett without looking back. He couldn’t bear to look at her after watching her bodily fling herself at his mother. And a sniff at the air did not scent sulfur. Mist demons were smelly. And even after they’d gone, their scent lingered. And if not for a noticeable scent, he should have felt the thing’s hum before even getting close.
“She came at me so angrily,” Gloriana said. “Why would she do that?”
“What did she say to you?” he asked as he and his mother turned the corner.
“She didn’t say anything. She just lunged. I think I might guess why. I had told her I didn’t want her involved with you. She reacted. She’s a wild thing, Savin. Jett Montfort is not the same girl you were friends with twenty years ago.”
After witnessing the attack, he had to agree.
Even if his mother had said something so inconsiderate to her, Jett had no right to attack. In broad daylight on the sidewalk with so many walking by.
Had he missed something? Had there been a demon?
He stopped before the passenger door of his truck and helped his mother up and inside. She clasped his hand, still shaking. No matter what had gone down, he would find out.
* * *
Jett watched Savin walk away with his mother. He’d yelled at her. Had believed she had been trying to attack his mother.
Her chest ached and her throat grew dry. She wanted to cry out for him to please listen to her, and that she would never harm his mother. Not anyone. But if he hadn’t seen the mist demon, then she had no proof of her innocence. It certainly must have looked as though she were attacking Gloriana.
Without a glance back at her, Savin turned the corner.
And Jett kicked the door to the building. “Damn it!” Had she just lost Savin’s trust?
She had reacted. Thinking to grab Gloriana and pull her away from the demon, which was gone now. Why had it dared to materialize like that in public?
The darkness inside Jett straightened. She knew. It had wanted her to see it. To challenge her to act out in public. Did it know she was the queen? Had they already sent minions to find and retrieve her?
“Let them try,” she said, curling her fingers into fists. “They will have a fight.”
And then she dropped her tight pose and bowed her head. She didn’t want this. Not here in the mortal realm. Would she ever be free from what Daemonia had made her?
* * *
Savin returned to his place after nightfall. His mother had still been shaken when he walked her up to the front door, so he’d sat with her awhile. When she’d begun to sweep the spotless kitchen, he knew she was getting back to herself. In that time, his anger had settled. And he’d given the incident some thought. Jett would never have purposely tried to harm his mother.
He wanted to believe that.
<
br /> Finding a half-full bottle of whiskey on top of the fridge, he then sat on the couch and picked up the diddley bow. A slip of the glass slide across the string would send out wicked vibrations to any nearby demons. Jett was not here, so he didn’t worry about how it would affect her.
Did he care?
A mist demon. He’d seen them before. They were exactly as they sounded: a swirl of insignificant black mist. Red eyes seemed to bobble within the figment about head level. Sometimes they possessed a sharp tail that could snap around and slash across flesh, searing through blood and bone as it cut deeply.
He’d not seen it. But had it already fled by the time he’d noticed Jett lunging for his mother? Had the shadows created by the overhang from the building disguised the ghostlike creature? They could be fast, misting out of sight as quickly as they had a tendency to appear.
He wanted to give Jett the benefit of the doubt. And he should talk to her, listen to her side of the story. But she wasn’t here. He’d not expected her to be here. If she didn’t return tonight, he figured it was because she truly was guilty and couldn’t bear to face him.
He grabbed the whiskey bottle and took a long swallow. He fitted the glass slide on his middle finger. Time to dally with some demons.
* * *
Jett returned to Savin’s home well after dark. Despite knowing she was probably not welcome here now, she had nowhere else to go. She hadn’t money to stay at a hotel. And while the cemetery might have provided a private place to snuggle up against a tombstone for the night, it had begun to rain. She was finding it difficult to keep her sheen on with the fresh water falling from the sky.
She hated feeling so dependent on another. It is beneath you.
She nodded in agreement as she took the stairs upward. How easy it would be to simply let go and be and look the way she really was. But worry over Savin’s opinion of her appearance aside, she still had to think about the reactions from other humans. Not a wise move.
At the front door, she paused with her palm facing the demonic wards. She felt them more acutely than she ever had. She was growing weaker. She had to either drop the sheen to get past the wards, or else suffer a wicked pull to cross the threshold.
She glanced along the floor and to the corner of the hallway not five feet away. The idea of settling in for the night curled up in a ball did not appeal. And besides, she was not one to give up and hang her head in defeat.
With a heavy sigh, and an inhalation of bravery, she gripped the doorknob and turned it. It wasn’t locked. But as she crossed the threshold, her body felt the electric prickles and vibrations that fought to keep her out. She was still too strong for expulsion, but oh, that hurt. Right in her heart. It thudded loudly and her nerves twinged, curdling a moan in her throat.
Stepping inside and closing the door shut off the wards. Jett pressed her forehead against the wall, breathing in deeply to work through the lingering pain. Savin had not loosened the wards as much as usual. And she could guess why.
It was time she figured out how to survive, how to get money and to support herself. She had a way to get in touch with her mother. Would she help her?
Creeping in through the kitchen, Jett paused in the living room. Savin lay on the couch, a whiskey bottle not far from the hand that was splayed out over the floor. His legs stretched across the hardwood.
“Savin?” she whispered. “Is it okay that I stay here tonight?”
With a grunt, he rustled, obviously sleeping, or had been very close. “Jett? Was worried about you.”
“You were?”
He made a come-here gesture with his fingers. Jett approached, smelling the whiskey and sensing he’d probably used the alcohol to drown his apprehensions about her. Warranted.
“I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I wasn’t trying to hurt her. But if you didn’t see the mist demon, then I understand how it was difficult to believe me.”
“It’s over,” he muttered, still teasing sleep, for his eyes were closed. “Sit here.”
She sat on the edge of the couch, and his torso hugged up against her derriere. He was so warm, and beyond the whiskey he smelled dark and delicious.
“I should let you sleep,” she said.
“Yes. Long day. Tired,” he muttered. “Kiss me? Good...night?”
That was either the whiskey talking or—Jett wasn’t going to overanalyze the request. Any chance to kiss the man would be met. Always.
She bent and kissed Savin. The arm he’d had outstretched wrapped across her back, but not possessively. He was sleeping and dreaming or maybe in a half-wakeful reverie. So she would make it the best dream he’d ever had. Straddling him on the couch, she deepened the kiss, diving into his whiskey sweetness and tasting his throaty growl. The man’s body was solid and hard beneath her legs and chest, and she pressed her breasts against him. Her nipples hardened, stirring her need for pleasure.
He didn’t seem awake enough to want to have sex, but when his hand slid up under her shirt, she pulled it up higher to give him access to her bare breasts. Mmm, that soft, not-so-focused touch giddied her. And then she felt him resist with a slight shove against her rib cage. The demon within him?
“Shh...” Jett kissed him again, lulling him toward sleep. “Let’s just hold each other.”
She didn’t need to make love to him. And right now she had a more important goal. She wanted to dig in and see if she could read the demon lurking inside her lover. And she might be able to if Savin agreed, or...if he were not fully in his senses. Taking his slight nod as a signal he approved of her suggestion as permission, she glided her fingernails down his chest. A kiss to his firm mouth. A brush of her lips over his beard. She nuzzled her cheek against his. He was like a big cuddly cat whose purrs were more like wanting growls.
His hand at her breast dropped the clutch as he drifted into reverie.
Fine with her. And much better if he wasn’t fully aware.
Jett bowed her head and focused within on her darkness, summoning her demon. She would not shift, but she would use the skills she had learned while sitting the throne. Reading others was a necessity for survival and everyday rituals such as assessing work tasks and punishments. Incorporeal demons were tricky and liked to hide out in human bodies or even another demon. The only way to tap into them was to send her detection senses through skin and bone, moving like an invisible finger to touch the demon’s essence.
Digging in her nails, but not so firmly that they drew blood, Jett pressed her fingertips about Savin’s left pectoral, right above where his heartbeat had slowed to a relaxed pace. Whispering a word to command obeisance, Jett connected.
The Other within him jerked and lifted her head. She knew Jett was coming in but was not so subservient to allow it with ease.
Jett had to move quickly. She forced out her influence through her fingers and swirled it in through Savin’s skin and muscle and felt the tug as she entered him and saw the Other. With her eyes closed, a figment of the one who inhabited Savin formed in Jett’s mind. Tall, lithe, long hair and...so ancient. She had served...something. It wasn’t clear to her yet. Yes, a female...
...that she recognized.
The Other growled and Savin’s body jerked. The incorporeal demon inside him fought back at Jett’s intrusion with a remarkable power of her own. Jett’s fingers left Savin’s chest as she was bodily flung away and off the couch to land on the floor in a sprawl. She lifted her head and eyed the sleeping reckoner. Thank goodness, he hadn’t woken.
And yet she knew exactly who she had seen. That bitch!
Understanding emerged. What a foul and wicked plan the Other had taken. Her name was not Other, though. It was Fuum.
“Very tricky,” she muttered. “Now the game has changed.”
Chapter 23
Savin shut off the shower and heard his cell phone ring. Hand dripping, he reached out a
nd grabbed the phone. “Ed, what do you got?”
“A news report about the sudden, strange increase in demonic possessions. It’s on France 24.”
“What? Humans don’t believe in that crap. Well, you know. The smart ones don’t.”
“In a perfect world they would all believe it myth. Apparently, exorcists are getting a workout. And the possessions are focused specifically here in Paris.”
Savin blew out a breath. He hadn’t heard from John Malcolm. Was it because he was too busy?
“CJ was able to work out a tracking spell for the queen,” Ed said. “We’re going to activate it as quickly as possible. I’d like you to be there.”
“I can...”
Could he walk in and watch as the guys attempted a spell that would ultimately, if it worked, lead them to Jett? Savin stepped out of the tub and slapped the dry towel over a shoulder. Had CJ told Ed about Jett and the fact that there was another queen out there somewhere?
“How about in a few hours?” Ed said. “At my office.”
“Sure. I’ll see you soon.”
He set the phone on the vanity, then pulled the towel off his shoulder and used it on his hair. He’d woken on the couch this morning and had snuck past Jett, lying in the bed, and into the bathroom. She was probably still snoozing. It was only around 7:00 a.m.
He remembered her coming in late last night and he’d asked her for a kiss. He might have been swimming in whiskey and half-asleep, but he’d felt the intensity of their touch and could not deny he’d needed it. And then something strange had happened that he wasn’t too clear on. Had Jett been disgusted by their kiss? She’d pulled away from him so quickly. And...he had dozed pretty fast after that. He didn’t have a clear memory of what had gone on.
Whew! He never overdid it on the whiskey like that. What the hell was wrong with him? He had to get it together. Had his whole life suddenly turned upside down because of a woman? While most men would find that fact strangely welcome, he wasn’t sure how to take it. Because was the woman in his scenario even human?