Creed

by Marie Johnston

  Fyra snapped her fingers, sparks spraying and immediately burning out. “That’s right. That crafty old female.” She dug into the fridge’s freezer and pulled out an aluminum foil wrapped tray. “Want to take bets on what it could be?”

  Melody’s stomach roared. Fyra smiled at her and went back to unwrapping the tray. Another rumble sounded. Melody pressed her hand against her belly, but some more of her tension drained. A strong reaction to normal food.

  Melody eased onto a barstool on the other end of the counter. “Hopefully, it’s something we can eat frozen. I don’t want to wait for it to thaw.”

  Fyra wiggled a finger. “Got it covered, babe.”

  Yeah, but singed brownies weren’t ideal, though she’d eat an entire charred tray the way her stomach was pleading for a bite.

  Yesss. They were brownies. Betty’s fudge special. Fyra fanned her hand over the tray. Subtle warm waves drifted to Melody.

  Had the demoness gained that much control over her powers? When they’d first learned about her, Fyra was blowing up gas stations and tankers.

  “Can you control your powers now?” Melody asked.

  “Where’s a knife? I doubt you want me to use my claws.”

  It wouldn’t slow her down, but she pointed to a drawer to Fyra’s right.

  Armed with a butter knife, Fyra answered her. “I have much more control now that Stryke clued me in to the energy side of my abilities. Trying to control my fire without the energy was hella wild.” She shrugged and heaped half the batch of brownies onto a napkin. That was slid in front of her, and Fyra sat next to her with the other half. “It still can be,” she said around a mouthful. “But a girl needs a little fun in life.”

  Melody dug in. Within minutes, her share was gone. She wanted to be horrified, but her appetite was demanding more. Conducting her own mission in the freezer, she found more bars. Fyra beckoned her over.

  Plopping the tray in between them, she sat back down. Fyra thawed, and they kept chatting.

  “Basically, know what’s behind your power. Understand it, control it.” She slanted her a wry look. “Sounds easy, but it’s not, so don’t get discouraged. Been there, done that, have the participation ribbon.”

  Fyra was her new best friend. Speaking of besties… “How’s Grace doing? I should invite her over. I could throw one of Betty’s freezer meals in.” After another pan of butterscotch cereal bars.

  “No can do. They won’t let her visit.”

  All the sugar in her belly soured. “Won’t let her?”

  “Right?” Fyra scoffed. “And she actually follows directions?”

  Melody stared at her uneaten bars—only two were left. Why couldn’t Grace visit? “Are they afraid I’ll eat her?”

  How could that be a serious question? But it was.

  “Probably. They get all protective over their females. So glad Bishop knows how badass I am.”

  “So I bet they won’t let me see the boys, either.”

  Fyra chuckled. “After Hypna tried to abduct them to use as bait, and probably eat them afterward? Not a chance.”

  Melody’s imaginary tarp vaporized. She’d helped save the boys from Hypna. She’d killed the vampire host the demon was using. She was sucked into the world for it. She was imprisoned by Hypna. Because she cared about the boys’ lives more than her own.

  And they thought she might hurt them.

  Her hands fisted, her claws extended, cutting into her.

  Fyra’s head popped up and she sniffed. She looked around. “I said something, didn’t I? Dammit, I’m not good at this stuff. I run my mouth and people get offended. Come on, Melody, calm down. I can’t fail while watching you. They’re starting to not think I’m a one-woman accident show.”

  Melody slowly turned her head, Fyra’s words bouncing around in her brain, I can’t fail while watching you. “You’re only here because they asked you to come?”

  Was there no end to her isolation?

  She pushed back. Her barstool tipped over behind her. Her fangs punctured her lips and she growled.

  “Dude.” Fyra jumped up. “Your eyes are glowing all green and shit. Weren’t your eyes blue?”

  Creaks and groans from the building came from all around them. Her apartment was on the first floor. The majority of the living quarters were below ground for the vampires. But Melody ignored it.

  Humiliation burned through her.

  “Now, now, Melody. Let’s talk.” Fyra clasped her hands in front of her and tried to adopt a calm and collected air. She failed with her darting gaze. When her bright eyes went wide, it was Melody’s horns she was staring at.

  “Dude, if you poke me with those things, call Bishop ASAP. I don’t want to get started without him, know what I mean?”

  Melody blinked. Loud pops echoed from somewhere in the building. “You’re not scared of the poison?”

  “Nah. I belong to one man. You know, it’d be cool to test it one day. Maybe his next weekend off when we can do nothing but swing from the frozen rafters.” A healthy flush crept up Fyra’s neck. “Oh yeah, that’s a plan.”

  “I haven’t said I’d stab you yet.” The demon wanted to be stabbed?

  Fyra kicked a hip out, her look calculating. “Let’s negotiate then.”

  The demon’s unexpected response drained her anger.

  The front door flew open, and Creed blasted in. Melody jumped. Fyra juggled balls of fire on her fingertips. When she saw it was Creed, followed by a determined Demetrius and Stryke, she blew each orb out.

  “What’s wrong?” Creed’s chest was heaving. He was opening every door and cupboard. Demetrius stepped back out in the hall to look around.

  He started by interrogating her instead of telling why they damaged her door trying to get in? The ire and betrayal that was fading returned. “Nothing. Fyra and I are talking.”

  Demetrius held up a hand for them to stop talking. He wasn’t looking at them, but scrutinizing something down the hall. Was that a draft wafting through the door.

  “What are we doing right now that’s upsetting you?”

  “Beating my door down and demanding answers,” she snarled. She clamped her mouth shut. It was one thing to literally bite Creed’s head off, but Demetrius was the ultimate deciding factor on where she lived—and where she died.

  Creed gave up his search and crossed to her. “Before that.”

  Before that Fyra was telling her that they didn’t trust her around her best friend and the two boys she’d cared for the last few months. And they didn’t tell her. Insulting much?

  “Come here.” Creed grabbed her elbow and towed her to the hall.

  Demetrius and Stryke stepped aside. After she was abducted and found out about vampires, she’d been rocked with disbelief. Now she was standing in a wide corridor with two demons and two male vampires, one of which she’d been intimate with. This was her life.

  But they ruled her, and she was helpless to each and every one of them.

  Creed gestured to the far wall.

  She gasped, her hand covering her mouth. Large cracks ran through the concrete exterior wall, only to be filled with thick vegetation.

  “I did that?” She didn’t want it to be true, but who else could influence spontaneous growth

  “We were in the conference room and it sounded like the building was going to come down on my head.”

  “I’ve had that happen before,” Fyra said. “It sucks.”

  Melody ignored all of them. She walked to the damage, the others moving out of her way.

  Getting closer, she could see there was no rhyme or reason to the roots. They were as thin as a whip and thick as her forearm. Curling and wrapping around the damage, they might be the only thing holding the wall up. Who would’ve been hurt if the wall collapsed?

  Her vision grew blurry. Hot tears spilled over. The boys she was so distraught over not being able to see? She could’ve slammed an entire wall on them. They were vampire children and they’d recover, but causing them
pain would shred her sanity. And these days, it wasn’t strong in the first place.

  And Betty? Would a vampire as elderly as her recover from this kind of trauma?

  Oh god. She could’ve been the end of Betty, who lived through centuries of paranormal and human wars.

  With each tear that spilled, leaves sprouted from the roots. She had to stop crying. Her shoulders only shook harder.

  Strong hands landed on her shoulders. “Melody, what can I do to calm you down?”

  She buried her face in her hands. On top of everything else, she was breaking down in front the people she’d just been incensed about cosseting her and controlling her life.

  “Shh.” Creed wrapped her in his solid embrace. The fabric of his obnoxiously happy shirt was warm and soft against her skin. “Maybe if you talk about it, the vines will get back under control.”

  Melody couldn’t speak around her silent sobs.

  Fyra stepped in. “She mentioned wanting to see Grace. I told her you guys said she couldn’t visit Grace or the boys. Then her eyes glowed and she displayed those glorious horns. Honey, you wear them better than Hypna ever did.”

  That shouldn’t make Melody feel better, but it encouraged the recession of her horror and shame. She was better than Hypna. In every way. Only that demon bitch had had solid control of her powers.

  More tears welled. Creed stroked her back.

  “I need to get these powers out of me before I hurt someone.” She’d already put Creed through a lot of pain. “Someone innocent.”

  “I know. We will.”

  “Creed,” Demetrius said, “stay with her. Quution and Stryke are going to the primes to hunt for a way to spare Melody during the transfer.”

  Creed nodded, but she didn’t raise her head or look at anyone. She was too raw, and she’d just proved all their concerns right. Five minutes ago, she’d have been irate that they hadn’t asked for input on what should happen to her. It seemed a small deal compared to hurting someone or dying to prevent it.

  Fyra lightly tapped her on the shoulder, the spot she touched passed enough heat to soothe her. “I’m coming back tomorrow. Send me a message on what Betty should bake and we’ll do snackies.”

  When Creed spoke, the low rumble went straight through her. “Stryke, can you and Quution secure the wall with your energy? As she calms, the vines should wither and disappear.”

  “Yes!” a puffing male said.

  Melody jerked her head up. She peered around Creed’s shoulder. A normal looking man with a five o’clock shadow and medium build huffed toward them. “This host couldn’t keep up with your walk, much less your mad sprint from the conference room to here.”

  She glanced up at Creed. “Q,” he answered.

  Quution, in his human host, bent over and dragged in a full breath. “My word. When will I get a host that loves his cardio?”

  “Do you have to stick with men?” she asked.

  The males stopped to stare at her. What? She wasn’t being snotty.

  Stryke’s mouth twitched, but he didn’t answer.

  Quution straightened. “I fear I wouldn’t know how to steer the host. One mistake standing to pee in the bathroom and a good host is ruined.”

  A giggle escaped, followed by a hiccup. She lightly shoved against Creed’s chest; he only loosened his grip.

  “We’ll take care of this,” Demetrius assured her. “We’ll take care of you, and I can’t promise you’ll always be happy with me, but I need to balance what’s best for everyone.”

  Melancholy threatened to take over. She covered the mental pit with her tarp. “I understand.”

  The demons left with Demetrius. Creed steered her inside. For a male who could incite the worst in her, he was her balm—for now.

  But if Demetrius did what he said, what would happen between her and Creed? Losing this power would save everyone else from her, but destroy the tiny chance she had with him.

  Chapter Nine

  Creed kicked the door shut behind them. It rebounded open thanks to the busted lock. He’d deal with it later. There wasn’t anyone else on this side of the compound. After her epic emotional outburst, no one was going to come in unannounced and startle her. They might lose the roof next.

  “At least that isn’t my fault,” she mumbled.

  “I worried Fyra started something on fire and you were scared.”

  She shook her head, looking miserable. “No. She was a sweetheart. And she was honest.” She sighed. “But I guess I can see why you guys wouldn’t tell me anything. You’re afraid I’ll get upset and demolish the place.”

  “You’re going through enough already. We didn’t want to add the extra burden.” He longed for the days they only needed to protect her because she was human.

  “You didn’t sleep long. Are you tired?” he asked.

  “Because women get over-emotional when they’re tired?” The green flecks that invaded her eyes glowed.

  He had entered the danger zone. She wanted honesty, then he could play with being truthful. “I think that’s common across all species, male or female. But I’m exhausted. Let’s lie down.”

  Her shoulders hunched in and she looked around, then toward her bedroom. “Like, together?”

  He didn’t answer, but led her to her bedroom. Her pink camo bedspread was rumpled from her earlier nap. The closet door hung open and various shades of pinks and purples were visible.

  “You like pink?”

  “Not really.” She crawled onto the bed and burrowed under the covers with her back to him.

  Then why all the pink? She didn’t seem willing to answer, so he let it go.

  He toed off his sandals. He used to get a thrill out of wearing clothes so different from his upbringing, so different from his daily job, but now he just preferred what was comfortable. And it was beneficial that his shirt and shorts were loose enough to be able to snuggle easily behind Melody. Because she needed the comfort. That was all.

  She tried to hide it, but he heard her sniffle.

  “Are you crying again?” He wriggled closer.

  “I can’t believe I knocked down a wall because my feelings were hurt. What if the boys…”

  “Are you kidding? Ari and Xavier would think it was a riot.”

  Melody’s shoulders shook. Damn, did he make her cry again?

  A soft laugh reached his ears. “You’re right. They’d think it was the best adventure.”

  They both fell quiet. His eyelids were growing heavy. He’d been short of sleep for weeks, except for when he was unconscious and recovering from her attack.

  “I don’t blame them,” she said quietly.

  “Neither do we. They’re kids.”

  “They’re boys. Now I can see why my dad wanted a boy instead.”

  “He did?”

  She gave a delicate snort and dug her hand out to wave around them. “Can’t you tell? I was too short for basketball, too small to go up against the boys in football, too slow for baseball, but I could hunt with him.”

  “I don’t see why it would matter.”

  She shrugged. “It did. Dad wanted a boy. Mom got a girl, but I was too tomboy for her, so…”

  The decor made sense. “So pink camo.”

  “Pink galoshes for fishing. Pink denim if I could find it. I tried everything short of wearing dresses, which I despised.”

  “Did you tell her?”

  “It wouldn’t have mattered. The older I got, the less relevant I became to her.”

  His human had a lifetime of not feeling good enough for anyone. No wonder living with supernatural creatures didn’t faze her.

  He couldn’t leave their conversation hanging in a place that was negative for her. Or at least not let her roam alone.

  “I was everything my parents ever wanted, and I ended up being their biggest disappointment and their worst embarrassment.” The words were out, and a tiny thread of relief wound its way through him. Had he ever said it aloud?

  She flopped around u
ntil she was facing him. He missed the rounded feel of her ass against his thighs, but she wasn’t closing him off, or tearing into him.

  “Because you’re good and they’re bad?”

  He nodded. The green fire in her eyes had died down, allowing the iridescent blue back. “They’re very bad.”

  “My mom and dad weren’t bad. Just…selfish.”

  “What happened to them?”

  “Daddy died in a hunting accident when I was nineteen. He couldn’t wait. It was deer season opener and I had to work. He went with friends who were more into partying than hunting. Mom got cancer and rejected all treatment.” Melody let the comforter slide through her fingers. “Her life was empty. I guess she thought, why bother?”

  “Damn,” he breathed. “That’s harsh.”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  No wonder she had anger issues. He was an adult when he turned against his parents, and their complete disowning of him had hurt more than anything. It had been his biggest disappointment.

  “I can’t imagine any life you’re a part of being empty.” How could it? She was a force, with her bright smile and vibrant, curly hair. Her personality was larger than life, like…she tried hard to get everyone to like her, to be what they needed her to be. She’d had no hope with him. She was human, he was not. Yet, she’d tried.

  Her eyes glistened, and he hoped no more vines were tearing apart the walls. “I’m not what anyone needs.” She gave a sardonic laugh. “I’m not even what this power needs. Have you seen how all my plants die? That’s the way I was before. If I tried to grow anything, I killed it.”

  “It’s rather handy that they disappear, really. It’d be quite a mess to clean up.”

  He’d meant to cheer her up, but her mouth quavered. “Why are you helping me, Creed?”

  “Because…” He couldn’t spill his exact reasons. It was too much to process. “You’re important to me.”

  There. He’d leave it at that. This talk had ripped the bandage off his parental issues. He’d been looked at with disdain for so long by his kind that when she turned her hero-worship gaze on him, he’d basked in it. And felt like shit for using a human to make himself feel better. Wasn’t he past those days?