by Lizzy Ford
“You’re welcome, half-breed,” Darkyn said.
“Fuck off, Darkyn.” Rhyn grunted.
“Just because I keep secrets doesn’t mean I can’t help those who need it,” Andre added, as much for Rhyn as Darkyn.
“I wouldn’t call it helping,” Rhyn replied.
“Hell kept you alive. Sasha went mad within a decade of his time there and was rendered nonlethal relatively quickly. Andre would’ve known that as well,” Darkyn said. “It was a shrewd, strategic move. Hell resolved both of his issues.”
“Correct,” Andre replied. It was unnerving to agree with the Dark One. It took a great deal of effort for him to turn his back on his brothers, even knowing it was for the greater good. Hearing the Dark One agree with his decision was disconcerting at best.
“That makes you sound cold, Andre,” Rhyn observed. “More like something Wynn would do.”
“Wynn would’ve destroyed you, not protected you,” Darkyn replied. “He has the backbone Sasha never did.”
“What a fucked up family.”
“I was sorry to hear about your daughter, Darkyn,” Andre added. “I had no way of knowing he’d harm her.”
“I have plans for Sasha’s soul, when I find it,” Darkyn replied. “I have plans for you, too, empath.”
Andre let the quiet threat slide over him. He had more important issues today. Whatever came tomorrow, he’d handle when it did. If anything, he was grateful that both demons seemed to be responding to his attempts to calm them down.
It gave him a chance to redirect their restless energy towards the people following them.
“Can either of you use your demon senses here?” he asked.
“Not fully,” Darkyn replied.
“Mostly no,” Rhyn echoed.
“Then I suggest you get ready to fight.” He stopped walking and closed his eyes, using his empath radar to pick up the emotions of everything around him. “There are five at least.”
“Where?” Rhyn drew his sword in response. “I can’t smell them.”
“That way. About twenty meters.” Andre pointed. “I’ll wait here.”
The two turned to face the direction he indicated.
“First one there gets the Toughest Demon Award,” Rhyn said and pushed the smaller Dark One out of his way.
“No half-breed can take what belongs to me,” Darkyn snapped.
Never should’ve mentioned the Toughest Demon Award. Andre thought ruefully. He’d forgotten another trait of demons: they were territorial predators. Hopefully, they stayed focused on competing rather than defeating one another.
The demons melted into the forest, leaving behind a few waving bushes.
Andre waited until certain they were gone before facing the direction they’d been headed. “I know you’re there,” he said quietly into the forest.
Nothing but the natural sounds of the forest filled the air. Whatever stalked them didn’t seem … solid. It was more like an echo of a person, a reflection perhaps, conveying parts of someone without the depth he was accustomed to feeling from someone else’s presence.
“Whoever you are, I will not hurt you.” He tilted his head to listen and focus his senses. Whatever it was, it was slippery, rendering it hard for him to track consistently. “My name is Andre. If you can hear me, give me some kind of sign.”
The presence fled, but not before he caught a strange flash of blue-green light.
“That’s a sign, too,” he murmured, blue eyes taking in his surroundings.
Unable to explain the odd encounter, he oriented himself and began walking towards the palace. Time was running out. He was able to track the demons down if the forest decided not to lead them to him when they were done.
The ghostlike presence returned, fled, and came back once more to stalk him, each time accompanied by a spark of turquoise light. He didn’t address it this time, instead cueing in his gift to study it.
Occupied in isolating what it was, he didn’t heed his instincts until he was almost upon the ring of death dealers acting as scouts.
He froze, focused on his surroundings once more. He’d barely stopped in time and took a moment to assess them.
Chances were, he wasn’t going to slip by them, and he knew better than to take on fifty death dealers without the help of the demons.
Andre retreated a short distance and chose a place to meditate, settling onto a rock to await Rhyn and Darkyn.
The presence had vanished once more.
What are you, and what do you want from me? He asked silently.
Chapter Ten
Deidre wished she’d been anywhere else, where she was able to enjoy the hot spring bath in the chamber adjacent to past-Death’s bedchamber. There were three round, deep, hot tub type baths, and steam rose from each. As it was, she bathed with such speed and worry, she dropped two bottles of oil into the springs before wrestling the third open and pouring soap into her palm.
If not for the blood caking her, she would’ve skipped a bath.
I’m glad I can’t remember. She shuddered, breathing in the steam deeply. It calmed her, and the hot water soothed her achy body. Karma had healed her, though her muscles remained sore from the trauma of her body breaking and healing itself. Scrubbing blood off her, she dunked her head into the water quickly before climbing out and hurrying to the thick towels stacked in a wardrobe by the door.
Karma was on guard in the bedchamber, but something told her the long-imprisoned deity didn’t really understand the purpose of watching without engaging. Wrapping the towel around her, Deidre emerged tentatively from the bathing chamber into the destroyed master suite, uncertain what she’d find.
The redheaded deity had changed clothing and captured her thick curls at the base of her neck. She sat with a book on an overturned trunk.
Deidre crossed to the wardrobe whose door was still open, and she surveyed the clothing critically. Everything was in white or shades of cream. The material of the clothing was rather coarse, woven to withstand time rather than provide comfort to a goddess unable to feel it.
“Never thought I’d prefer a Hell dress.” Deidre sighed. She pulled out what appeared to be the most comfortable of the clothing, a long dress, and then tugged on leggings beneath it. Knowing the boots would fit, she quickly pulled them on, tied them and straightened.
When she turned, Karma was standing directly behind her.
“Oh, god!” she gasped. “You shouldn’t sneak up on people, Karma.”
“Karma thought only water nymphs had pink hair,” Karma said, studying her pink-dyed hair.
“Someday, someone is showing me what a water nymph is,” Deidre replied. “Did anything happen?”
Karma raised an eyebrow in polite offense. “Yes, and Karma … I took care of it.” Her eyes were blue this time, her round face lightly flushed.
“I’m guessing you didn’t hide until they left.”
“Karma doesn’t hide. She needed clothes that fit. You are too small.”
Deidre took in the new clothes. Karma wore all black, like a death dealer. “Okay. We should probably move on.”
Karma started towards the door, and Deidre followed, strapping the velvet purse containing souls to her belt.
“We can go back to the dungeon,” Karma told her.
“I think we need a plan.”
“Karma … I heard the death dealers talk before they found Karma. There was a prisoner that escaped. The dealers are searching the palace, except for the dungeon. It’s safe.”
“Did they mean us?” Deidre asked.
“No. A demon.”
“Jared got out?”
“Is that what they’re called now?” Karma sighed. “Karma has been in prison too long.”
“No, I mean, the demon in my cell was named Jared. But if he got out …” Either Past-death did, too, or had been eaten. Deidre didn’t want to dwell on the glimmer of satisfaction she experienced at the idea of the woman who fucked up her world getting what she deserved.
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br /> She shook her head to free her mind of the bad thought, aware she felt bad for past-Death being eaten by a demon, no matter what the former deity had done to her.
Her stomach seized, and she dropped to her knees, clutching it. The hunger pangs were getting more frequent, more intense. Pain pierced her abdomen and radiated outwards into the rest of her body. She closed her eyes.
“Come, Deidre,” Karma whispered, tugging at her arm. “There are people coming.”
Deidre wasn’t able to move. She huddled, nauseated, in silent agony. Her chest was too tight to breathe.
The door to the bedchamber burst open. She lifted her head, gaze blurred. There were four death dealers in the room and at least twice that in the hallway.
“The little demon is alive.”
She recognized the voice, even if the accompanying memory was gone. Deidre shuddered. Sheer terror gave her the strength to move despite the pain, and she pushed herself to her feet. Her pulse raced with adrenaline, and Karma wrapped an arm around her, steadying her.
Together, they moved away from the door, putting the trunk between them and the death dealers.
“Karma can take … four, I think,” the deity whispered. “How many can you fight? Five? Six?”
None. I’m too weak. Deidre’s eyes watered, and she drew a shuddering breath.
“Oh, no. Karma does not like that emotion,” the goddess snapped. “You’re a demon. You can fight.”
“I can’t,” Deidre said in a cracked voice. “I tried before!”
“You tried to fight them like you’re human.”
“Ready for round two, little demon?” one of the death dealers taunted. “I brought more friends this time. Good thing, seeing as how quickly you recovered the first time.”
Deidre squeezed her eyes closed, fear paralyzing her. Maybe if she passed out first …
I’m tired of being the victim of the Immortal world. The thought crystalized, along with a sense of helplessness to know she didn’t have the ability to prevent her fate at the hands of the death dealers.
“No!” Karma grabbed her arms and shook her hard. “No! You’re a demon. Fight them how a demon fights!”
“I don’t … know … how!”
“Where does the Dark One get his power?”
“What?”
The dealers entered the room cautiously, weapons drawn.
Karma snatched her arm and all but dragged her into the bathing chamber, barring the door. Deidre sagged to the floor, already trying to make her mind numb.
Not again. I can’t go through this again.
Spinning, Karma grabbed Deidre’s arms again and hauled her up. “Look at me!” The deity’s eyes were piercing green, her curls gone and her hair straight standing on end, as if she’d stuck her finger in a light socket. “You are a demon now, and you can draw power from the same thing the Dark One does. I know you are tired of this, and I know you can do this. There’s lots of power here for one such as you.”
“Depravity?” Deidre asked uncertainly.
“Evil. Hatred. Pain. Resentment. Betrayal. Whatever emotion it is that makes them hurt you. You can use it against them.”
“I don’t know how.”
“How?” Karma echoed, astonished. “You just use it! Did the Dark One teach you nothing?”
Deidre drew a few calming breaths and forced her panicking mind to focus. “Y… yes. He did. How to kill.”
“Then do it!” Karma released her and took a hand. “Look. You’ve got small claws. When demons are threatened, they grow claws and fangs. Make them grow more.”
Something smashed into the door, and the bar across it cracked.
Deidre looked at it fearfully then at her hands.
Karma was right. Her nails had grown to short points and turned black, the same way …
“Wait a minute. They do this when I’m in bed with Darkyn,” she murmured.
“Defense mechanism. What he does should probably kill you.”
“That’s what he says.”
Karma grinned suddenly. “Then pretend you’re in bed with him.”
Desire shot through her at the thought, pooling at her belly. As Deidre watched, her nails grew longer, until they were thick and pointy enough to look threatening even to her.
“You can kill with them,” Karma told her. “They are like tiny swords. They will go through anything.”
“I’m like Catwoman.” Deidre studied the lengthened nails in a cross between revulsion and intrigue. “Or maybe Wolverine.” Her nails stopped growing at about two inches long. “Umm … definitely Catwoman.”
Karma appeared confused. “Yes. Whatever it takes. How does this Cat-wo-man act? Afraid of death dealers?”
The door splintered.
“She’s not afraid of anything,” Deidre said.
“You can be that! You are that inside.”
“He taught me another way to kill,” Deidre continued, flipping over her hand to study her palm. “I couldn’t do it to him. Karma, I don’t know if I can kill.” The demon way of killing usually involved a lot of blood and pain, from what she’d seen. Neither was natural to her.
“You can kill, or you can watch Karma get killed, because we won’t make it out of here otherwise. Karma is weak right now, too.”
Deidre looked up, startled, and met the deity’s grim gaze.
“You have to be a demon now,” Karma said firmly. “You are the mate of the Dark One, the most powerful creature in the universe. The power is in the men who want to hurt you. Use it.”
I’m tired of being the victim. Deidre studied her hands once more and then nodded. She clung to the idea she already had the power within her to defend herself and Karma this time. After a fatal brain tumor, the list of deities and Immortals trying to use her for their means, the loss of her life, her mortality, her human boyfriend …
This ends now. No more Immortals fucking up her life and body, no more deities trying to control her. Anger trickled into her, and the black fingernails grew longer.
Karma moved away from her and faced the first death dealer hacking his way through the door.
Swallowing hard, Deidre watched Karma duck the blow of a sword and grab the dealer’s arm. He froze, his mouth opening in silent horror. Karma’s hair lengthened and whirled around the both of them with the tangibility of smoke and the eerie writhing of a snake, her eyes flashing white then black and settling on red, while her features grew stony.
She, too, appeared frozen, absorbing the man’s vitality. He grew pale, gaunt, and mummified so quickly, Deidre would’ve missed it, had she blinked. His hair and skin were the last to fade away, revealing a skeleton. Karma’s hair returned to normal, and she released him.
The bones and clothing fell at Karma’s feet, and she readied herself to face the next man. Red hair remained straight, the tendrils stretching out towards the next dealer through the door.
The rest of the door exploded, knocking both of them back. The dealers kicked aside the bones and charged into the room.
Karma moved to the side opposite Deidre, forcing the dealers to split up. Their effectiveness was further whittled down by the narrowness of the path around the round baths.
“Hello, little demon.” The death dealer approaching Deidre had eyes that glowed with lust. His dagger was raised. “Ready to scream for me again?”
Deidre retreated, struggling to focus on Karma’s words to keep from losing her angry edge.
… you can draw power from the same thing the Dark One does.
Deidre glanced at her fingernails. She doubted they’d do much against a sword, but she already knew from fucking Darkyn that they could slice through skin easily. He loved pain, and she began to realize that he’d been quietly teaching her how to be the demon she really was, using his body as her scratching post.
Depravity. Evil. How did she channel what was clearly in front of her? How did she draw on Darkyn’s power when he was cut off from her? She had never thought to seek the bad out in any
one, but the large death dealer looming over her made her want to give it a go.
“I’m unarmed,” she whispered, holding up her hands. “I … know how this went last time. I just want it not to hurt.”
The death dealer considered her then sheathed the sword. “No promises.”
“Better your hands than a sword, right?”
He snatched her arm hard enough to hurt. Deidre grimaced, fighting away the frantic urge to curl up in a ball and sob. She rested a hand against his chest to steady herself and focused hard on feeling the parts of him that would attract her mate.
I am the Dark One’s mate. If there is evil here, it will obey me. Closing her eyes, she chanted the words over and over, trying not to notice that the death dealer was ripping her dress to get to her skin with the haste of a man not fully under his own control. He grabbed one breast and squeezed too hard, shoving her into the wall behind her and rubbing his erection against her hips.
This ends now.
The scent of blood was in the air, thick, rich and compelling. Deidre’s mouth watered, the demon side of her responding to its food source.
A whisper reached her, something dark and cold, emanating from deep within her attacker and tingling through the hand she held over his heart. The cool energy went up her arm, tickling her from the inside, and she redirected it, willing it to do to his heart what she never thought herself capable of before.
The dealer hesitated and started to pull away.
Keeping her hand rooted to his chest, Deidre focused harder, tears on her cheeks.
“Stop,” she whispered to his heart. “Now.”
The dealer dropped.
Gasping, Deidre’s eyes flew open, and she stared down at the body at her feet. She had no time to dwell over her first kill but was confronted by a second dealer. This one paused, glancing at the dead man, before he stepped over him and took her arm.
“Claws!” Karma shouted with a grunt from across the room.
A quiet, quick death was one thing, but Deidre wanted nothing to do with blood. It was drowning her senses already, pulling at a part of her she didn’t want to acknowledge existed. One that lusted to gorge itself on the coppery rivers of blood pulsing through the body of the man before her.