“Let me go!”
He threw her face down on the other bed, his cruel, slow laugh mocking her futile attempts to escape. “Or what?”
CHAPTER TEN
The blow had hit Roman hard. Confetti-like lights danced before him. They streaked by so fast.
Fast because he was falling!
Air whooshed past him as he plunged downward. He shook the cobwebs from his vision. He was hurtling headfirst to the ground. The brick sidewalk reached up to him with a monstrous embrace, clawed tentacles extending from the iron streetlamps.
His muscles tensed, bracing for the crash.
No, he had to do something quickly to stop it. He forced himself upright. As if that would even slow him down. Anything to increase the distance between his head and the bricks. With a struggle against gravity, he regained control of his wings. Moments before he kissed the sidewalk, he flew from it to escape its concrete embrace.
Before he exhaled in relief, the danger that awaited returned to him. The demon was likely watching from above, waiting to ensure his death. He searched as he flew up. Nothing.
Which was even worse.
Fear gripped his soul like icy shards clamping around his chest, constricting his breathing. Larissa was in the hotel room.
If the demon wasn’t out here, he must have gone after her.
Demons were invading the city.
The lust for vengeance swirled up like a thick London fog, clouding all else. Heating his veins with a fierce, hot rage.
He’d been a young gargoyle the last time demons had broken through from another realm. They’d spread chaos and destruction through the village where his family had lived in the Algarve, the southern coast of Portugal. Over a two-week rampage, the incubi had raped countless women and killed many men. Roman had barely reached his father’s waist at that time, but had followed him to combat the insatiable demons. His father had been killed. Roman had vowed to destroy those murderous beings ever since. Had the moment finally come?
He swallowed, biting through the thirst for vengeance that consumed him. He was a leader now—he had a gargoyle clan to lead, a city of humans to protect. He had to approach the situation with rational thought, not fly into battle with his blinding rage.
Roman soared toward the broken window, about to send a message to Arto when one came through, garbled.
Demons… dome…
Fuck.
Roman replied, One at the Mayfair Hotel in Beacon Hill.
Engaged… contact…
Arto was fighting them as well. That would explain the breaks between messages. Probably sent between blows. He couldn’t distract his brothers by asking more questions. Instead he soared toward the dome to help the gargoyles.
But Larissa was back there. And Roman had no idea if the demon had returned for her. Visions of what it would do to her body flashed before him; fear crept over his flesh like icy goosebumps.
No!
Conflict tore him apart; he couldn’t help both Arto and Larissa. Arto was his long-standing sentry, and Roman barely knew Larissa. But she was also alone with no means of defending herself. Arto at least had the support of the clan.
Any grasps at analyzing the situation with reason were overruled by an absolute fear—that of something happening to her. Terror clutched at him in a way he’d never faced in any battle. Losing her would in some way be like losing a part of himself. He couldn’t explain it. All he knew was he had to get to her before it was too late.
Roman changed motion in flight, but not before he caught sight of the dome. Two winged demons hovered above, guarding it. Damn it, this was bad. One demon they could handle. Three would be a much greater challenge. Gargoyles might live longer than humans, but they didn’t have the immortal kiss that darkened the souls of many demons.
Now wasn’t the time to engage with those two. He had to get to Larissa.
Too late. One spotted him and shot right for him.
* * * * *
No defensive moves had any impact on the demon. Larissa used a variation of head butts, punches, kicks, jabs to the eye and neck, and the goddamn demon avoided every one. Or he let them bounce off without effect. To add insult to injury, he laughed at each failed attempt.
“Humans. So amusing.”
As if she was here to motherfucking entertain him!
He pinned her down, straddling her from behind, and she writhed with futile effort beneath him.
“Get off me! Get the fuck off!”
He breathed on the back of her neck, and although it was warm, it sent chills to her bones. How the hell had he masked himself as an attractive man earlier and lured Janie home with him?
She hadn’t stopped Janie. And now Janie was gone.
Grief threatened to pull her into its greedy depths, but survival instincts kicked in harder.
“You are in no position to make demands,” the demon said, interrupting her fruitless attempts. “Stop fighting me. One way or another, I will bend you to my will.”
When she turned to look over her shoulder, he’d curled his mouth into a cruel sneer. “Some are more painful than others.”
That may be true, but she wouldn’t submit to him. Not without fighting for a chance.
“Piss off!” She snapped her head back to butt him. Once more to little effect. She tried to wriggle out of his grasp, and failed at that as well, as he pinned her on her back. Faced with her weakness under his overpowering strength, she fought back tears of frustration.
He laughed at her continuing attempts to free herself. “Useless without a weapon.”
Her gun was long gone, since he’d hurled it through the smashed window. Hopefully it hadn’t hit any pedestrians. Or worse, ended up in the wrong hands. Either way, it was far from an immediate concern.
“What do you want from me?” she shouted.
“Don’t be naive. You saw me with your friend.”
“What did you do to her?” Questions swarmed her mind about the circumstances of Janie’s death. No blood. No sign of a weapon. And Janie had been alive when Larissa had entered the room with Roman. So how had it happened?
“She loved it,” he snarled. “I bet you’ll like it just as much. Maybe more.” Pulling up the lower part of her shirt, he licked around her belly button, making her skin crawl. She squirmed to get his tongue off her skin. “You taste good.” He paused for a second and inhaled deeper. “I smell him on you. You fucked the gargoyle earlier. Naughty little human.” He sniffed again and cocked his head to the side. “No, not human. Witch.”
No, no, no. She wouldn’t let him do this to her. He’d killed Janie. He wasn’t even a fuckin’ human!
“Interesting. You masked your scent, but I sense it now.”
She had? How the fuck had she done that?
“Can’t keep it up while you struggle,” he added.
How? It had to be involuntary.
Like that’s the issue right now!
She resumed the struggle, but it only made the situation worse.
“The more you fight, the sweeter the victory.” He pressed his stiffness between her legs. “I like how you writhe beneath me.”
Damn it to hell. The last thing she wanted to do was give him any pleasure. What could she do to stop this?
Anything.
In frustration, she pushed out and shouted, “What are you?”
He replied with another mocking laugh.
Focus. She had to use her head instead of reacting and making poor decisions. By taking control of the situation, she’d have the upper hand. She gritted her teeth together and searched her mental catalog for defensive training tactics that might work. If she could knock him off balance, she might have a second or two to act.
If was the operative word. He was huge. A freakin’ monster. He had to outweigh her by a hundred and fifty pounds.
Trying was better than lying there and continuing with her futile resistance, trying to flail her limbs about. One move might do it. One she’d taught to many women t
o defend themselves against a potential rapist. But he wasn’t any normal male. He wasn’t even human.
With his arms pinning her down, she moved one of hers up and the other down while bringing her knees up and rolling with him to the side, away from the door. The awkward move didn’t give her half as much leverage as it had with male cops in their demonstrations, but something else happened. Sparks flew out from her fingers, blasting him off balance for a second.
What the hell?
How the fuck had that happened? Some kind of burst of energy from her hands couldn’t be possible.
No time to question it. While he sputtered and readjusted to regain his balance, she scooted out from under him and dashed for the hotel door. With the lock broken, she threw it open and lunged out.
His roar was deafening, unlike any noise she’d ever heard. She sprinted faster than she ever had down the hall toward the stairwell.
Although that was the last place she wanted to be with an attempted rapist, it was a better alternative than waiting for an elevator. Doors opened, with people peeking out for the source of the sound.
“Get inside. Get back inside!”
Doors slammed shut. She expected to hear the demon’s footsteps behind her, hear him breathing down the back of her neck. With his massive, long legs, he’d catch up with her in seconds.
Yet she heard no sounds of him approaching. Nothing.
Why? His unknown whereabouts was far more threatening.
The door to the lobby was just ahead. She yanked open the door and shouted to the desk clerk, “Call 9-1-1. Get an ambulance to room 413. A woman needs help.” She couldn’t say dead; she just couldn’t.
When the clerk stared at her, she barked, “Now!”
The clerk picked up the phone.
Larissa ran out the hotel and searched the night sky. No demons. No Roman. Nothing. The moon shone as a mere slip, hanging on to its dying light.
Sirens blazed from all directions. The sounds of the window smashing and the shouts were sure to warrant an investigation in addition to the clerk’s call for 9-1-1.
Larissa needed to call for backup, but when she reached into her pocket for her phone, it was gone. She must have lost it in the struggle.
Thoughts raced across her mind. Should she wait for the first responders to arrive and explain what had happened? No. There was no sign of the demon at the hotel. It was dangerous and on the loose in the city. She couldn’t waste time sitting still to wait.
She squeezed her eyes shut to search for guidance.
It came through the chaos within: Find Roman.
“Where?” she said aloud, raising and dropping her hands in exasperation.
Not knowing where to turn, she ran, retracing their steps from earlier. Maybe she’d pick up something about his presence. A few minutes later, she fought for breath on a quiet street. Although she was in shape, running at a near sprint for that distance took its toll. She slowed to a jog.
Movement from the gothic-style church across the road caught her eye. She blinked. Gargoyle statues perched on the side of the church had come to life and were soaring toward the stars. When their silhouettes passed the eclipsing moon, she was sure she’d lost her mind.
After they’d disappeared from view, she continued to gape. More gargoyle statues detached from surrounding buildings and soared toward the Common.
Holy shit. Her heart thundered in her chest. It couldn’t be real.
Something landed in front of her. “Oh, I do so love the thrill of the chase. Makes the capture all the more exciting.”
Shit, the demon had followed her. His tone had a sinister edge, making the hair on the back of her neck rise.
She moved into a fighting stance. “Get away from me.”
He did the opposite, grabbing her arms and slamming her against a brick wall. The violence of it knocked the wind out of her, leaving her gasping for air.
“Did you like fucking the gargoyle?” His hot breath fanned her ear, making her turn away. “Did he give it to you hard?” He bucked his erection roughly between her legs. “Don’t worry, demons do it better.” He emitted a harsh laugh. “It will take your breath away.”
The intrusion pissed her off, and she aimed her knee straight at his crotch. He deflected it, moving his hips so she met his thigh instead.
Frustration rose, but she stifled it. No time for it. When he bent his head back to laugh at another of her pathetic attempts, she used her head and smashed it against his forehead. The impact affected her as much as it did him, pain shooting through her skull while dancing lights floated around her. But it did make him loosen his grasp, and she seized the moment to duck and sneak out under his arm.
He roared and reached for her, pulling her back and throwing her onto the sidewalk as easily as if she were a pillow. No matter how hard she fought, he’d overpower her. A flash of Janie appearing lifeless on the bed appeared before her. Her fate seemed just as dismal, but ending on the cruel concrete of a city block.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Demons were immortal, almost impossible to destroy. The one Roman had been fighting in the skies was slippery, managing to evade several blows in the air. What Roman had on his side was gargoyle strength and his drive. He had to return to Larissa. Adrenaline gave him the boost to fight the winged demon. He landed a devastating blow that knocked the hellish creature into retreat. The demon flew off. Roman chased him in pursuit, but the demon had vanished. He hoped it had returned to the hellish realm it had slipped from.
When Roman flew to the hotel and reentered through the broken shards of the window, Larissa and the demon were both gone. The tainted scent of the demon lingered. It wasn’t a typical demon, but an incubus. Larissa’s friend, Janie, was on the bed, and her dismal state confirmed his analysis. He hovered his hand over her. There was nothing he could do for her now.
The stirrings of vengeance sparked, a low brush fire that would ignite into full-blown flames if he didn’t harness self-control.
Taking three deep, slow breaths, he fended off the growing bloodlust for revenge, tamping it down with logic. He had to respond with a strategic battle plan, not an emotional response for destruction.
Where had Larissa gone? He had to protect her.
Roman flew from the hotel to search for her. If the incubus had taken her—
Hold on to your emotions. If you succumb to the darkness with your lust for vengeance, you’ve already lost.
He soared over Copley Square, over the courtyard of the Boston Public Library, and veered off to search the narrow alleys below. Signs of movement caught his attention—a struggle, barely visible in the glow of a nearby street light. He pinpointed his vision.
It was Larissa—and the demon. It had its hands on her, marring her with its filthy touch.
His hold on his emotions weakened, Roman soared down, blinded by a ferocious blood rage. His veins throbbed with his wrath; his instincts pulsed with an all-encompassing need to protect her. He grabbed the demon from behind, tearing him off Larissa, and threw him from her.
“Run!” he commanded.
The demon recovered from the unexpected attack and turned to Roman with raised claws. In half a second, they were locked in a power struggle.
This demon was stronger than the one he’d fought in the air, but a gargoyle’s advantage was its strength. He hit the demon with some devastating blows, yet the demon continued to advance. With its quick reactions, it escaped the next strike and knocked Roman to the ground.
The wind was knocked out of him. Roman gasped for breath while the demon pinned him down. Its ghastly features loomed above as it moved closer to his face. With a sharp pang of recognition, the face became clear. It was similar to the demonic ones of the monsters who’d killed his father. Several demons had pinned his father before one had pierced him in the heart with a splintered stake. Roman had been engaged with other invaders across the battlefield, but he’d glanced up and witnessed his father’s murder. He’d charged at the killer, but it
had been too late. The monster had slipped away, into the stark, bleak night, after the shadows had eclipsed the moon. He likely escaped into another realm where Roman couldn’t reach. But now, it appeared the demons were back.
The demon forced Roman’s attention to the present with a painful jerk in his chest cavity. Then Roman felt it. The draining of energy. The demon was sucking it from him. His life force slipped away, leaving him unable to generate enough energy to fight back.
As his energy depleted, he realized his mistake. He should have thought before reacting. Called his sentries. The urge to protect Larissa had overpowered all else.
“No!” Larissa’s voice rang out as the demon crashed forward with blood spurting from its skull.
The energy drain was broken, the demon incapacitated—at least for a moment. Roman gulped in a massive breath as his strength returned.
Her voice sent a calm vibration through him. It meant she was alive and well. But it also meant she hadn’t run and was within reach of the deadly incubus.
Larissa held a jagged rock before her, one edge marred by dripping red blood.
“I told you to run.”
“I couldn’t leave you,” she said. Glancing at the injured incubus, she asked, “Is it dead?” She reached for a pulse.
“No. It’s immortal. But one way to destroy them is by beheading them.” He searched for an object that would do the trick. A sword would be ideal, but their weapons were stocked at their arsenal. No time to wait for a sentry to bring one. A shard of twisted metal lay near a dumpster, and he retrieved it.
“What the—what the fuck is it?”
“An incubus. A type of demon.”
“What—?” Her eyes widened, staring at the incapacitated demon.
“Listen to me, Larissa. It isn’t the only one. Demons are at the dome. I need to dispose of this one before it wakes up. You need to get to safety.”
“No.” She crossed her arms. “I’m coming with you.”
Was she crazy? “You can’t. They’re not human. You don’t stand a chance against them.”
“And one killed my friend!” Her eyes glistened with fury. “Then it attacked you.” The pain in her voice signaled that she was on the edge. “If you think I’m going to run from them, you’re wrong.”
Tempted by the Gargoyle (a gargoyle shifter romance): Boston Stone Sentries Page 10