Demon Day

by Penelope Fletcher

  Breandan said it was because on this sacred ground my power was absolute. I rubbed my chest to soothe the ache the thought brought to my heart. Had I known that mere hours ago, so much might have happened differently.

  I had left my vampire-boy, Tomas, slumbering in this earthen tomb I had made to keep him safe. He was dead, and would not rise until sunset. I was pleased, because it meant I could focus on the grimoire and Devlin. From the moment I had met him, Tomas had been a complicated being I could not understand. Always he was there on the fringes of my attention, but never the focus. When he had made me stop – by searing me with a kiss to leave me shaken and dazed – he had snapped into focus. It had been enough to sway my loyalty when faced with the choice of losing him or risking Breandan’s affection.

  Thinking of my vampire always made me confused and wary. He had a numbing, drug like affect on my senses I was beginning to equally love and hate. I needed to be sharp and definite not fuzzy and indecisive. I snorted at myself. I would think on my blood tie with Tomas, and my promise to help him later. I didn’t even know what it meant … and if I did know what difference would it make? Could I break it? I knew my bond with Breandan was thrown into doubt because of my tie with Tomas. Devlin had made that perfectly clear when he had tried to claim me.

  I glanced overhead, past the dense tree canopy, and saw we had nine hours of sunlight at best. When night fell he would come after me. I knew this like I knew the hammering of my heart when he was near was taboo.

  Tomas was no fool, and so I knew not to worry too much about what would happen when he woke.

  He would have to spend most of the night catching us up, and even if he did manage to gain on us – and catch us before the sun rose – he would hang back. He was wary of Breandan, and for good reason. Breandan would tear him apart the moment he had a chance.

  Distance from Tomas was good. I would have time to decide what was best for him and me. Please, gods, let me find an answer.

  As I had lain beside him in the earthen tomb, I’d wrapped my arms around him and wallowed, slipped deeper into despair until my heart had called for its other half. My heart, despite its anguish, had told me what to do and who could help me. And he had been there waiting for me when I crawled out. Breandan’s touch was as soothing as the sun’s virgin light on my skin. He had held me in his arms – when I would let him – and let me wander around the fairy Wyld when I had needed space to move.

  In my heart, I knew who was right for me despite the fact I craved the love of another.

  Crouching, I rested my temple on a root and dragged my fingers, tipped with talons, along the bumpy surface.

  “I have to go. I know you’ll follow me when you wake, so be careful. Just ... don’t do anything foolish, okay?” I knew Tomas couldn’t hear me, but saying the words out loud made me feel better. “I will help you, Tomas. Give me time and I’ll find away to help you and your Nest.”

  Breandan came up behind me and pressed his legs into my back. “We must go if we are to have any chance of catching Devlin.”

  Standing, I patted the tomb once before turning my back on it. “Conall?”

  “I am here, little sister.”

  My brother stepped into the clearing, geared up and ready. He glowed, brighter than any other I had seen, except when Breandan and I suffered the effects of our bond. Conall was beautiful, a face of hard angles and smooth planes. His eyes were gold, a family trait it seemed since mine were the same only lighter. His long hair was pulled into a low ponytail that reached the middle of his broad back. In leather pants and soft-soled boots like Breandan he was always topless, and bore sword – latched to his back by a thick leather strap that ran across his torso.

  “Devlin will not make this hunt easy,” he rumbled. “The High Lord is cunning and most dangerous when prepared. Devlin will head to the sea fairies at the tip of the region. They have always been sympathetic to his cause. We must reach him before he reaches them. We must travel well out of the way of the Temple and slip through the shifter Pride. I do not think he will be foolish enough but he may try to cut through the outskirts of the vampire city. Pray he does not.” Conall focused solely on me. “Rae, if you become tired tell me. If you think you hear, see, or feel something wrong tell me. If you need to eat or drink tell me. If–”

  “If I breathe too loud tell you,” I said cheekily and rolled my eyes at him. “I get it. Tell you everything.”

  He nodded once. “And try to keep up.” Moving around me he touched my shoulder briefly then broke out into a swift run, blurring into the distance forcing me to use my fairy sight to see him before Breandan nudged me and I took off behind him.

  For most of the day there was the gloomy, damp forest, my ragged inhalation as I struggled for breath, and the footfalls of the one who called himself my life-mate as he raced beside me. I ran through the forest teeming with life, yet all hushed reverently as we blazed past, in awe of us, in fear. Shaking my head at how my life had changed, I sped up leaving Breandan a pace behind so we ran single file, Conall in the lead. The air was overly crisp on my skin signaling the coming winter and the last of the sun’s rays were sluggish.

  Devlin was less than half a day ahead, and his trail was erratic. Appearing unexpectedly then becoming deceptively faint, or weaving in odd directions. He was trying to throw us of course and used magics to slow us down so he could escape. Each time I was sure he had changed course Conall had disagreed and pointed out the way. At times we stopped for him to read the trails, listen to the wind, and press his ear to the earth.

  It had not taken us long to pass out of fairy territory, and I knew the moment we did. There was a subtle change in the air as we ran, a cool ripple rolling over my skin, and a bubble of pressure popping as if we had broken through a containment of some kind. Rather than a crisp sweetness, the scents of the forest became harsh and syrupy. My nature sulked at the loss of connection with Wyld land. The forest close to the human Temple side of fairyland was bright and spacious with an orgy of vivid evergreen flowers and shrubs. But as we passed out the other side of fairy territory the plant life dulled, became mundane, and the thick glossy leaves withered into spindly brown spokes. The evergreen trees – bases covered in bright yellow lichen – were twisted into tortured formations. Bark lice and rotten fungi spiraled up devouring the dead bark. Silken webbing from the lice hung from the tree branches in wispy clumps, and when I batted some out of my way the secretion stuck to my fingertips. The dense canopy swooped lower, blocking out the light until everything took on the electric blue tinge my fairy sight used to see in the dark. This part of the forest had not seen care in some time, and when I sent a nauseated look at Breandan his responding look was sad.

  The decayed smells of the trees faded. The wild, spicy smell of animal reached me before it became clear we had passed into the shifter’s Pride. The air was heavy with hints of hay and soil. The trees thinned, became clumps of bushy shrubbery then the tree line disappeared, and my eyebrows vanished into my hairline. Grass swelled up to my chest and flowed outward, rippling, causing the land to undulate in the wind. Gray clouds with black underbellies drifted sluggishly across the dusky blue sky.

  As my feet took their first steps into the meadow the grass blades bent and fanned down, crushed beneath the soles of my feet. Cool mud squelched between my toes and made a horrible sucking sound when I pulled them free.

  The absence of other footfalls beside me had me abruptly aware the other two had stopped running, and I was blazing ahead alone. Cursing the gods, I slowed to a speed a human could follow, and curved round to double back.

  I stopped dead as a feeling of foreboding ran across the crown of my head in prickly tingles. Was someone close? I reached out with my developing sixth sense to see if any auras were nearby, and a large shadow engulfed my own.

  Rough, calloused hands closed around my neck.

  Instinctively, my wings spread, but were hindered by a pair of muscled arms. I tried to use my tail to beat at whoever h
ad a hold on me, but I could not get a proper swipe in. The meaty fingers locked around my neck tightened. I could not breathe. I opened my mouth and tried to inhale. My lungs burned, and blood rushed to my brain. Feeling pressure building behind my eyeballs, I did the one thing you should never do; I panicked and tried to scream. The remainder of air left my lungs, and my attacker squeezed my throat tighter. My vision blinkered and impulsively I reached for the Source; the silo of energy that was nowhere and everywhere, and mine to command. The power I called to me in a panic slipped through my grasping fingers.

  The next time my eyes fluttered open, I was disorientated, and I was on my back when a moment ago I had been upright.

  My eyelids fought to lower. I caught flashes of a bushy beard, a large chin, a chunky neck, and huge shoulders. A heavy hand held my shoulder down. I pushed against it, and the mouth above the bushy chin cursed.

  I dragged my eyes fully open and tried to scream. Nothing but hoarse squeak came out. I struggled and licked my legs. He was so heavy. I tried to reach for the Source again, but my terror was too great. It filled me but I could not think what to do with it. All I could think was ‘help’! The man above me smelt like stale sweat and bog water … warm animal. A shifter? His breath was bitter, like rotting flesh. He grinned when I struggled. He leaned over and licked from the base of my neck to my temple. His tongue was rough, like sand had been pressed into it, and I squirmed at the saliva that burned my skin as it trickled down my neck into my hair.

  I bucked, twisted, and clawed at him. I would fight my way out of this. I knew soon I would become too tired to move, but I could not just lie there. Behind my closed lids I saw Lex, bound and tortured, watching as Devlin and his fairy mate abused her body. The horrific memory gave me a last surge of strength to fight harder.

  There was a loud crack and the body on top of me went limp, crushing me. His heavy weight lifted off me, and I heard a loud crash, as if a tree had snapped in half and fallen. I blinked up into darkening sky. Shaken. There was a horrible crunching sound nearby, and a short, sharp wail of pain.

  I rolled onto all fours and crawled away through the grass, the mud slicking my palms and knees as I quietly scrambled forward.

  Someone grabbed my ankle.

  The touch was like a wave of peace over my entire body, and I scuttled round to launch myself into his arms. Breandan held me close to him, arms tight around my waist, and buried his head in my neck, his breath ragged.

  My eyes skipped over the tips the grass, looking for the bearded man. Two bounds away he lay in broken mess. His hands and feet had changed into tawny colored paws with brown claws, and his face had elongated. Two dark triangles, ears, had moved to the top of his head with wispy tufts of hair sticking off the edges. A stumpy tail peeked out from his bottom. It was a grotesque blend of man and beast.

  Conall stood over the dead shifter, looking down impassively. Blood was smeared over his hands. He glanced over at me, frowned when he saw me in Breandan’s arms. “He will never hurt you again,” he said bluntly.

  That was an understatement, but I nodded once in thanks. He missed it since he looked away from us, expression unhappy.

  Breandan leaned away to run his hands over my neck. I winced. It hurt, a lot. We healed fast and I could guess the bruising was already a rainbow of color. When after a few seconds it did not feel any better I rasped, “Why is it not healing?”

  “Bruising is not a fatal wound, and the skin is not broken. This is new to you so you will not feel the difference, but your body can become exhausted to the point of death if you are not careful. Using magic is stressful on your mind and body, as is healing. Where it can your body will conserve its resources. Since the–” His jaw clenched. “Since the shifter’s attack, your body is still preparing you for a fight, or to run away. And you have been running all day. Your reserves are not replete.”

  “You need to become much more aware of your surroundings,” Conall said chidingly, and nudged the mangled body on the ground with his toe.

  Really? He was trying to turn this into a lecture? I made a rude noise. “Honestly, is now the time for a lesson?”

  All day he had been throwing confusing sentences and scenarios my way, expecting me to ‘learn’ something from them. He was taking his role as my protector and Elder seriously. I forced myself to feel loved and appreciated rather than smothered and overprotected.

  Conall said nothing in response to me, too busy looking the dead shifter over, and the look Breandan gifted me with soon had me shutting up.

  The grass surrounding me was primarily shades green, but peppered with grays and browns, and the occasional wild flower with spongy orange petals. The shading of late autumn had swept over the shifters territory, and it was pretty. As far as I could see there was nothing but rolling terrain. The beauty of my surroundings was lost on me as I inhaled slowly and swallowed. My face contorted into a grimace at how much it hurt.

  I leaned my head against Breandan’s shoulder then rubbed my cheek into his neck seeking comfort. “I can’t believe he attacked me. Why? And why did you kill him?” I asked Conall who inclined his head at Breandan.

  My fairy looked uncomfortable. “Conall did not kill him. I did.” I looked back at my brother who literally had blood on his hands. “Your brother was bitten so I snapped the shifter’s neck. He was Changing, and not submitting to my will.”

  The unsaid was that this shifter had hurt me, and it was clear a transgression so great would not go unpunished in Breandan’s eyes. If the situation was reversed, I no had no doubt I would do the same thing in a heartbeat … if it meant his protection.

  “This does not bode well,” Conall said his voice dark and mad. “He was clearly a sentry watching for intruders. We will need to make reparation to the Pride he hails from.”

  “Another time,” Breandan said.

  My trembling stopped and I forced myself to unclamp my hand from around Breandan’s waist and stand. My wings slammed out behind me and my tail cracked from side to side. What had happened that morning had made me moody, and short of temper throughout the day, but this latest experience left me jittery. I plucked leaves from the mess of inky-black that was my hair, and caught Breandan’s scent before he touched me. Sunlight, earth, and rain. He came up behind me and his hands gently rested on my shoulders, squeezed, and then slid down my bared back to pass over my wings. They twitched and fluttered at his touch and I dragged in a shaky breath.

  Gods, to fall for someone so hard surely you were bound to break apart. Unravel at the seams because you are undone by how they make you feel.

  He continued, lazily wandering to my waist then lower, gripping my hips. I shifted, but instead of backing off he pulled me into him. My heart thumped doubly hard and I sighed when his hands left my hips to gently feel my neck again.

  “I’m fine,” I rasped and thumped him lightly on the back of his thigh with my tail.

  His fingertips brushed my hair back from my neck then he pressed a kiss to my pulse point. He let me go. “I believe you, but I want you to relax. You’re too tense.”

  I slanted a pained look over my shoulder at him. Not sure if admitting he was the main cause of my erratic heartbeat would be sensible. Gods knew what he would do.

  “I want this over with,” I mumbled. “I want Devlin dead and I want the book back. No shifter with grabby hands is going to distract me from that. The bruises will heal, eventually.”

  He sighed and muttered, “This is not going to end well.”

  My brows came together and I twisted round to look him in the face – unsure of what he meant. He glanced at Conall, truly unhappy, and his lips pressed into a thin line. Breandan was unbelievably skilled at controlling his expression to hide his reaction to things, and I had to watch him closely to see if he was mad, pissed, or upset. Judging by how his jaw worked I was going for mad.

  “What?” I asked, because it became apparent he had realized something before I had. “What are you not saying? I tried and failed
to keep the impatience from my tone. “Why have we stopped?”

  I looked to Conall; the mighty warrior strong enough to massacre a small army of his kind. He said nothing at first and I knew it would be a mistake to push him … no one pushed him.

  Irritated and grumpy I waited – hand on hip – for my bother to tell us which direction to take. He and Breandan sent each other a series of coded looks and signaled to each other with their hands.

  My gaze darted back to the rigid body of the dead shifter, blood pooling beneath his twisted form, and I shuddered at how effortlessly they had ended his life.

  “If you two wanted you could grind me into a pulp,” I said thoughtfully. “You’re both warriors yet here you are babysitting me. I’m slowing you down aren’t I?”

  They stilled. Abandoning whatever silent conversation they were having and turned to face me. Conall’s face was perplexed. Breandan’s was smooth, emotionless, telling me he was experiencing an intense feeling he did not want me to see.

  “Rae,” Conall said slowly. “Do you still not understand who you are?”

  “I’m a fairy Priestess.” I said it shyly, knowing he was after more but not wanting to insinuate I was more important than I was. How embarrassing that would be!

  My brother shot a look at Breandan who inclined his head then came to stand before me. His heat muddled my brain, made me weak in the knees. I peeked at his face and saw a small smile of the corner of his lips.

  “Who am I to you?” he asked.

  “Uh, my boyfriend,” I said with conviction, and cleared my throat since my voice was still raspy. “I mean, my steady.” I was proud of myself for I had never said those words before, but when I looked up the smile gathering at the edges of my mouth dropped into a scowl.

  Breandan looked horrified. “You are my life mate,” he corrected, “and you belong to me.” Conall made a small noise of protest, but apart from a tightening of the jaw, Breandan did not acknowledge it. “I am your protector. I am faster, stronger, and more resilient to physical injury. More than this, we are bonded, so our connection is fundamental to whom we are. You cannot overpower me and I cannot overcome you, because you too are stronger, faster, and more resilient to physical injury than I.”