Demon by My Side

by Victoria Davies

  As she stared at him now, pain warred with her rage. She wanted to hurt him the way he’d slayed her but what dent could she possibly make on the untouchable demon?

  She shook her head. No, all she had was one last attack. She had to make it count. There were too many lives riding on her to fail now.

  With a cry she launched herself at her lover.

  Jaral twirled out of her reach at the last moment. She swept around, dancing back out of distance. She searched for a weakness just as she’d been taught, but the man had none. There was nothing she could exploit.

  Except maybe his heart, if he’d ever had one.

  “So is this your standard play, Jaral?” she taunted. “Tell women your sob story and get them to lower their guard so you can use them however you wish?”

  “That’s not what we were.” He lunged forward.

  Was it just her, or was his attack slower than what she knew he was capable of? She frowned as she parried the blow.

  “All I see is a man who tricked me in the worst way.”

  “Of course you do,” he replied, blocking her thrust. “Because you’re incapable of trusting me.”

  “With good reason, apparently.”

  Darcy surged forward, feinting left at the last second. She circled around him and drove her dagger at his back.

  Jaral spun faster than she could follow, catching her wrist before the blade could make contact.

  “Predictable,” he said.

  She froze, well aware of how fast he could torch her if he wanted.

  “Every move you make. You are always the same. A hunter willing to sacrifice anything for her beliefs.”

  “You said you admired my determination,” she snapped.

  “I do.” Quick as a cat he pulled her forward. One arm snaked around her waist to hold her immobile. “You’d give up everything to protect those you care about.”

  “Yes,” she seethed, trying to wrestle free.

  “Why do you think I’d be any different?”

  Darcy stilled against him.

  “Such little faith in me, my hunter.”

  “He’s offering everything you’ve ever wanted,” she said, staring at his chest to avoid his gaze.

  “You’re everything I’ve ever wanted.”

  Her breath hitched. Slowly, she raised her eyes to his.

  “Trust me,” he said, his voice low and urgent. “It’s the last time I’ll ask.”

  Before she could reply, he kissed her.

  The battle fell away around her. In his arms, she knew she was safe. No matter what he’d done, his kiss still felt like coming home.

  And then a familiar heat rushed through her. She inhaled flame that didn’t burn. It filled her body, banishing the pain from her injuries.

  Darcy jerked back, looking up at him in question.

  “You have flames in your eyes, love,” he told her. “Don’t waste them.”

  He was gone before she could come to terms with what he’d done. He’d healed her, shared his magic with her again. Why?

  The second he disappeared back into the fray the demons began closing in again. Darcy would have to ponder his actions another time. Right now she needed to fight.

  With new strength she launched herself back into the battle. Every parry and thrust was more vicious. She landed fatal blows more often that she had before, as if she could sense the beating hearts around her and knew exactly where to strike to make them stop. A feral rage swamped her and she fought almost mechanically. Block, hack, stab, repeat. Bodies littered the floor around her until her opponents were coming more slowly, giving her more time to prepare.

  Darcy raised her blades to attack her next target when a small dark body swept by her. Spirits rushed past, decimating the demons in their path. For a moment she wondered if she needed to defend herself but the creatures seemed to be leaving her alone for now.

  Glancing around, she tried to get a picture of what was happening. She caught sight of Cailin in the corner, covered in blood and fighting for all she was worth. A demon lumbered up behind the hunter but before she could call out a warning, a man drove a sword through the monster’s heart. Darcy blinked, recognizing the demon as the one she’d seen days ago in the Rex’s lobby. What was he doing here?

  Cailin nodded her thanks to the man before returning to her fight. Grateful that her friend had an ally of sorts, Darcy looked for Kerilyn.

  The spirit queen was fighting tooth and nail against Abaddon, her mate by her side. But the demon king was stronger, especially with his minions around. Every time the pair tried to press their advantage, the demons fought them back.

  Jaral was edging closer to the battling threesome. Darcy watched his approach, wondering which side he would choose to fight with. If he joined his father, Kerilyn was in trouble.

  With a burst of speed she launched forward. Racing through the throng of monsters, she tried to make it to Kerilyn’s side. Demons threw themselves into her path but met swift ends as she plunged her blades through vulnerable tissue. As she fought, she saw Arawn draw a blade that pulsed an eerie blue.

  The valar blade, she realized in surprise. Their way out. If one of them could just drive it into Abaddon, the blade would do the rest of the work for them. The king would be trapped, helpless. They all might survive the night.

  But as soon as her hope crested, it was dashed to pieces. A demon jumped at the spirit lord. Though Arawn burned the creature to ash with his black fire, the knife was knocked from his hand.

  Everyone watched as it hit the foot, only to be kicked by a careless demon. The blade slid across the floor, jostled by the battle raging around it.

  Changing her course, Darcy fought to get to that dagger.

  Teeth flashed before her face. Claws raked at her, barely missing sensitive flesh. On she pushed, her eyes never leaving the knife.

  One demon stood between her and salvation. She drew her dagger across its throat with vicious glee before scooping up the valar blade.

  The magic knife pulsed in her hand as if it had a life of its own. A faint blue shimmer ran along the metal edges, glowing with its own internal life.

  “Darcy!”

  She turned at Kerilyn’s cry. Abaddon was beating the hunter back, gaining the upper hand. Darcy broke into a run. She was so close. Just a little bit more…

  A blow to the back of her neck sent her flying. She held on to the valar blade as she slammed into the floor. Her instincts screamed at her to plunge the blade into her attacker but it would be a wasted use of its magic. Under no circumstances could it touch blood before she made it to the demon king.

  She fought off the attacking demon with her left hand but the creature was pressing its advantage. She’d have to drop the blade to save herself.

  “Darcy.” Her name was cried again but this time by a far different person.

  She saw Jaral in the distance, stretching out his hand to her.

  “Throw me the dagger.”

  Time seemed to slow. She saw Jaral’s grasping fingers and felt he blade pulse in her hand. One toss and he’d catch it. He could end this all.

  Or he could side with his father and use the blade against them. Their one shot would be gone. All because she’d followed her heart instead of her head.

  Trust me. The words echoed in her mind. Such easy words to say yet so hard to do. She’d run from him twice, not wanting to take a risk on being wrong. But every time she’d doubted him, he’d come through for her. He’d fought for her, protected her, healed her. He had done everything she’d asked of him and he’d wanted only one thing in return.

  Trust him. If she was making a mistake it would be her last. But she’d rather go out fighting for what mattered than playing the coward. She loved him. Time to prove she could trust him.

  With a cry she threw the valar blade. The demon on top of her snarled before she grabbed her dagger with two hands and drove it into the creature’s heart. The monster slumped down on her with enough weight to pin her in place. A
s she fought free, she saw Jaral stride toward his father.

  Red fire shot from his palms, hitting Abaddon with full force. The king turned to face his new attacker. There was no mistaking the surprise in the king’s eyes when he realized it was his own son battling against his defenses. The shock quickly drained away as rage filled the bloodred gaze. Abaddon moved forward to engage his new enemy, leaving him open to the spirit lord. Arawn matched his attacks to Jaral’s. Together they battled the demon king back with magic and flame.

  Darcy kicked free of the corpse on top of her and ran toward Jaral.

  “Traitors,” Abaddon yelled. “I am your king.”

  “You betrayed me first, brother,” Arawn said. “And you treated your son no better.”

  “Jaral, name your price. I will give you all the power you desire.”

  “No,” Jaral snarled, slamming his father with deadly fire. “I kept your armies together. I ran your kingdom. I kept you on the throne because I was loyal.” He voice was filled with self-disgust. “And what did it win me, Father? You plotted against me at every turn.”

  “For the day you’d betray me.”

  “The day never would have come had you not gone after me first.” Jaral cast out a hand and the demon king gasped for breath.

  Darcy watched in awe as her lover used the same trick on his father that he had with her on their first meeting. He pulled the air from Abaddon’s lungs, forcing the king to his knees.

  “No,” Abaddon said, reaching out with his own magic.

  Jaral slammed to the ground, the veins in his neck turning black from whatever vicious spell his father had cast.

  “Side with mortals?” Abaddon hissed. “Then you can die with them.”

  “Not going to happen.” Jaral inched closer. The black lines had crept up the side of his face and down his arms.

  Abaddon’s eyes flickered to her. “A mate only makes you weak.”

  “No,” Jaral said, coming face-to-face with his father. “She makes me strong.”

  He thrust the valar blade into Abaddon’s chest without another word.

  The demon screamed in agony.

  Darcy raced to Jaral, dragging him away from his father. He convulsed in her arms as the dark spell halted its progress. Darcy watched as the inky black started to fade from his veins. Whatever poison was coursing through him, it was receding.

  Piercing screams filled the air. Darcy wrapped her arms around her lover and gave him what support she could as they watched his father wither. The deadly magic worked quickly, draining the vitality out of the king. His cheeks grew hollow, his scream hoarse. His limbs shriveled like a decomposing body. The once impressive king seemed to fold in on himself, growing smaller and smaller.

  In a flash of light, his decimated body was sucked into the blade. The dagger fell to the ground with a clatter. For a long moment no one moved.

  Around them, the demons stilled as they realized their king was gone. The creatures looked to one another as if wondering what their orders were now. Some spiteful spirits took out a couple of the dazed demons before they retreated themselves to await further commands.

  Finally Jaral stepped out of her arms and walked to the magic blade. He lifted it with care, looking at the shining metal. Darcy saw a tiny screaming face reflecting on the blade’s surface before Jaral slammed it into its sheath.

  “He’s trapped,” he said, his voice even.

  “It will be centuries before he can cause trouble again. Perhaps he will reflect on his ways,” Arawn said.

  “I doubt it.” Jaral held out the knife to his uncle. “Keep him out of sight.”

  Arawn accepted the blade with a nod. “There is an empty throne in the demon world, nephew. It needs to be filled.”

  Cold raced through Darcy’s body. An empty throne. Jaral’s throne. The one he’d spent his whole life trying to earn. It was his now.

  While Arawn might have broken the rules for Kerilyn, she would have no such luck. The demons would never allow a human hunter in their realm. When Jaral left, he’d be going back alone.

  Pain sliced through her. To get him back only to lose him again.

  “Come, Keri. Our time here is up.” The spirit lord held out his hand to his queen. With a slight smile she nodded.

  “We’ll see you next Halloween,” Kerilyn said. “Try not to let the world implode before then.”

  “Keep your magic on your side of the rift and I think we’ll be okay,” Darcy replied.

  Kerilyn inclined her head and followed her mate to the black sear mark on the concrete. “My apologies,” she said, looking down at her own blood. “I would never have let Arawn get away with this had I known.”

  The spirit lord snorted. “Don’t you understand yet?” he asked Kerilyn. “I can never lose you. Not to my brother, not to mortal death. I will follow you anywhere, my Keri. For eternity.”

  Darcy watched the hunter smile at her frightening mate. There was no hesitation as she linked her fingers with his and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. “Let’s go home,” she whispered.

  Arawn wrapped his arms around her, resting his chin against the top of her head. With a flash of blue, they were gone.

  “The blood,” Jaral said, holding out his hand. “Let’s close this rift once and for all.”

  Darcy didn’t hesitate. Fishing the syringe out of her pocket, she handed it over. After all that had happened, she trusted him to use it for the right reasons.

  Cailin limped up to Darcy’s side as they watched Jaral kneel by the black mark. The demon from the Rex stood nearby. Jaral whispered a few words Darcy couldn’t understand. Without hesitation, he poured the blood onto the ground. There was a pause and then the dark stain started to shrink. It grew smaller and smaller, as if it was being absorbed into the ground, until only a tiny spot remained. Before their eyes, it winked out of existence.

  “Cailin,” Darcy asked. “Can you sense anything?”

  The hunter nodded. “The rift is gone.”

  “I concur,” the Rex demon added. He turned to Jaral. “Which leaves you with only one problem left to solve.”

  Jaral sighed. “Go away, Lee.” He focused his attention on the surviving demons milling around the edges of the room. “Go home,” he ordered, complete authority in his voice. “Do not trouble the hunters of this city and return to the palace immediately.”

  The creatures looked at one another, some baring their teeth. But none, it seemed, were willing to take on the demon who had destroyed their king.

  Darcy watched them shuffle from the room leaving it almost empty. She’d expected to see spirits remaining but the small monsters seemed to have disappeared with their rulers. Soon only their foursome remained in the large room.

  “Cailin, can you go check on Blake?” Darcy asked, her eyes on her lover. “With all the demons running around, they might need help out there.”

  “On it.”

  “Liam,” Jaral called.

  The demon grinned and swept them an elegant bow. “I shall assist the lovely hunter.”

  Cailin rolled her eyes but waited for him to catch up.

  Darcy waited in silence while the pair disappeared. Finally alone, she searched for the right words but nothing came to mind.

  It was Jaral who broke the silence. “You gave me the valar blade.”

  She blinked. Of all the things they needed to discuss, the dagger wasn’t one of them.

  “You needed it.”

  Jaral rose from his crouch and turned to face her. “Days ago you wouldn’t have made that choice.”

  She shrugged, looking away. “Things change.”

  “How much?”

  Completely. Utterly. He’d turned her entire world upside down and now she had no idea which way was up. But telling him that would be unfair, and selfish. She couldn’t beg him to stay with her when his entire life had been spent trying to earn the throne waiting for him in the demon realm. He had to go back.

  And she couldn’t follow.

&nbs
p; “Let’s just leave it,” she said, refusing to meet his gaze. “You have a kingdom to get back to and I’m sure I have weeks of cleanup ahead of me here.”

  Jaral walked into her line of vision, nodding. “Of course. That makes sense.”

  Her heart constricted. She needed to get out of here quickly. “Best of luck,” she said, turning to leave.

  Her lover darted forward, wrapping a hand around her wrist. “The problem is,” he said, “nothing in my life has made sense since I met you.”

  Darcy looked up at him. A smile curved his lips.

  “And after centuries of clear, ordered purpose I find I far prefer your chaos.”

  “You can’t stay,” she whispered, shaking her head. “That throne means everything to you.”

  He pulled her closer and she tried to ignore how good it felt to stand in his arms. “I have lived a long time,” he told her. “Hundreds of years, and all I wanted was a place I belonged. Somewhere I wasn’t the bastard son or the upstart or the traitor. Somewhere I could breathe.”

  “You can have that now,” she argued. “The demons need you.”

  He shook his head. “I have dozens of brothers. Any one of them could rule as well as I.”

  “But you’ve spent your life waiting for this.”

  “I’ve been waiting for you.” He brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I thought that throne would give me purpose, but when I think of returning to it, all I feel is dread.”

  “Why?”

  His dark gaze flicked back to hers. “Because to claim that position, I’ll have to leave the only place I’ve ever belonged.”

  “Where’s that?”

  “Here,” he murmured. “By your side.”

  Her heart soared at his words but quickly crashed back down to earth.

  “You can’t stay here,” she said.

  “Why?” he demanded. “You gave me the dagger, Darcy. Considering the knowledge you had at hand, it would have made more sense to keep it. Or to give it to anyone but me.” His smile was gentle. “You gave it to me because you trust me, my love. You knew I’d make the right choice.”

  “Fine, I trust you. I said it, all right? But that doesn’t change the facts.”