Demon Wolf

by Bonnie Vanak

  She sat, looking amused at Dale’s scowl. “I just got hired. Why would he fire me?”

  “You’re not his type. Too nice.” Sully waved his spoon. “He likes tall, model types with sharp tongues.”

  “Ensign,” Dale warned. “Tell me about your sister’s vision. What did this demon look like?”

  Keira choked on her wine. Dale glanced at her. “You okay?”

  “Fine.” She coughed. “Drank too fast.”

  “Sis said the demon’s face was blurred, but she had pretty hair. Silky.” Sully squinted at Keira. “Kinda like yours, ma’am. No offense. Didn’t mean to compare you to a demon.”

  “No prob,” she said quickly. “Care for some wine?”

  “Think I’ve had enough to drink. Wouldn’t wash down well with the finest whiskey this side of—”

  “Ensign,” Dale interrupted. “The vision?”

  “Cassandra said that the demon is closer to you than you’d ever realize...a demon in disguise—”

  “More stew?” Keira persisted.

  Sully shook his head. “Could use coffee, though, if you have any. Need to sober up.”

  Her smile was bright. “Sure. Would you like dessert? I made chocolate cake.”

  “From scratch?”

  Keira had already vanished into the kitchen. “Dale, would you help me? I can’t carry this by myself.”

  He went into the kitchen and carried out the cake as she set up the coffeemaker. Keira scurried after him into the dining room.

  As she began to cut slices of the thick cake, Dale shook his head. “I’m full. I’ll save it for later.”

  He aimed a stern look at the ensign. “Sully, your sister’s vision.”

  “A sad demon. Weird. A demon who liked to dance and invaded your house to get close to you, the devil in disguise. She said your future depends on vanquishing the demon.” Sully dug into his slice of cake. “This is great. Thank you, ma’am.”

  “Keira,” she said. “Dale, I think the coffee is ready. I couldn’t find anything to serve it in. Do you mind?”

  Dale bit back his impatience as he returned to the kitchen. Damn it, why couldn’t Cassandra have clear-cut visions instead of sounding like a Chinese fortune cookie? What demon? Why would he allow a demon into his own home?

  Then again, he’d changed since the time in the basement. Dale pressed a hand to his temple. Things that were normally clear before had grown muddied in his mind. He needed to get his act together.

  When he returned, carrying a silver service and three cups, Keira was eating her slice of cake. Sully snapped his fingers.

  “That’s what Cassandra said. I forgot. She said the devil you dance with is the devil in your house, the demon you’ll fall hard and fast for, the devil you’ll bring to your bed....”

  “Oh, my God,” Keira cried out.

  They both turned. She was licking frosting off her fork, her tongue slowly stroking the tines. Dale’s jaw dropped. Holy crap, the woman turned eating cake into carnal art.

  “Oh, my God, this is so good! Chocolate,” she breathed. “I haven’t had any in months. You must try this. I used dark and milk chocolate.”

  Keira took another bite. Eyes closed, expression ecstatic, she looked like a woman in the throes of orgasm.

  He forgot all about Cassandra’s vision. Forgot about why Sullivan came to his house. All his focus centered on the woman eating a slice of chocolate cake with such sensuality, his blood thickened.

  Dale hungered to see her looking this way again, only naked beneath him, her pleasure visible to his eyes only.

  Sully stared at her with wide eyes, a pulse beating wildly in his throat. The man was clearly turned on. She licked the fork slowly, and Dale had the oddest feeling she was truly savoring the meal, but also distracting them.

  Why? Did she see Mystic Witches as a threat?

  Keira flicked her tongue over the tines and slowly slid the utensil into her mouth. Out. Then in again. Sweat trickled down Dale’s back. He gulped down his wine, his gaze riveted. Beneath his shorts, his cock hardened.

  Stunned, Dale set down his wine. He hadn’t experienced arousal since his torture. Now his new housekeeper, with her innocent air and pouting, full mouth, had given him an erection. He narrowed his eyes at Sully.

  Leave us alone. Now.

  The SEAL wasn’t stupid. Sully suddenly pushed back his plate. “I’ll be going. Thanks for the meal.”

  He stood and stretched out his arms as if to teleport, but began to sway. Dale bolted out of his chair. Damn it, he was so tuned into Keira’s little display, he’d forgotten his first responsibility—to his men.

  “Downstairs, Ensign. You’re not headed anywhere. Either I get you a taxi to your apartment or you stay here. Last time you teleported someplace drunk, you ended up inside the lingerie department of a department store.”

  “I do love the ladies in silk.” Sully sighed.

  Dale helped him down the steps and watched him collapse onto a bunk bed, covered him with a blanket. Then, as an afterthought, he left a lamp burning.

  No one should be left alone in a basement with the lights off.

  No one should be left alone in a basement with the lights off and the sound of his own blood slowly dripping onto the cold concrete floor.

  His erection deflated. Dale climbed up the stairs, needing to return to the brightly lit kitchen.

  A soft, sweet voice hummed a tune he recognized from the sixties. Keira’s arms were plunged into a sink filled with soap suds. Disappointed, Dale cocked a brow. He wanted to watch her eat more cake, with him as her only audience. He wanted to slide chocolate frosting over her mouth and slowly lick it off, then trail his tongue down her neck and lower...

  What the hell was wrong with him? All he could think about was sex. This was the woman he’d hired to clean his house and keep Keegan Byrne the hell out of his personal life. Dale drew in a deep breath, then another, and folded his arms.

  “I have a dishwasher,” he told her.

  At her questioning look, he pulled open the stainless-steel door and slid out a rack. A most becoming blush tinted her round cheeks.

  “Runs on electricity, saves time,” he added.

  “Some things are done best the old-fashioned way. Save the planet.”

  His irritation grew. “Hope you’re not into only candlelight and battery power like most New Agers and I’m going to wake up to find organic sprouts for breakfast instead of bacon and eggs. I don’t eat sprouts and I’m not into peace and love.” Dale fetched a clean dish towel and began to dry the plates she stacked on the drainer.

  Keira’s lovely mouth wobbled. “Are you making fun of me?”

  His stomach churned at her woebegone expression. He set down a plate. Damn it, had he lost all his manners? Since when had he been so rude?

  He took another deep breath, wrestling for control, feeling his life was spinning away from him again.

  “I’m sorry. I’m rather bad-tempered these days.”

  Especially when facing a woman who really turned him on, and made him feel even more out of sorts because each time he was around her, all he could think about was getting her naked.

  Her peaches-and-cream complexion looked creamy and smooth, like fresh milk. The pink-and-green-flowered frock floated around her calves, hugging every inch of her curves. With her huge green eyes and the dark curls tumbling down her backside, Keira looked more like a forest nymph than a housekeeper.

  “Why?”

  That voice, it stroked over his clammy skin like velvet. So lush and melodious. Seductive and yet without the artifice of his sometime girlfriend, Melissa, who knew how to use her feminine skills to get her own way.

  Keira was his housekeeper. It was none of her business why he was bad-tempered. She was his employee, nothing more.

  Dale braced his hands on the counter and looked her in the eye.

  “I told you before that I was in the hospital. It’s only been two weeks since I returned to active duty. I’m still
trying to find my feet again and learn to be civil.” His mouth twisted. “Hard to be social and polite when you spend days and nights bare-assed, needles and tubes snaking out of your body, nurses waking you up every hour to check and see if you’re still breathing.”

  Sympathy shone in her green eyes. “Why were you in the hospital?”

  He dragged in a deep breath. Sooner or later, she’d hear the rumors. “I was tortured by demons.”

  She flinched.

  “But I made it, and thanks to one of my men and his girlfriend, who saved my ass and got me airlifted to a hospital in time, I’m going to be fine. Great. Terrific.”

  “Do you remember anything?”

  “Not much.” Dale picked up the dish towel and began folding it into thirds.

  “The man and his girlfriend who saved you, do they remember anything?”

  He frowned. “Shay and Kelly told me there was a girl in the basement, but she vanished. His memory and Kelly’s both got fogged. But he’ll never forget the girl’s face.”

  She drew in a deep breath. “Where is this Shay and his girlfriend? Maybe they can help you.”

  “They got married. Shay’s away on training, took Kelly with him to live near the base. They won’t be back for a few weeks.”

  Keira’s expression remained shuttered. He stared at the counter, willing the memories to become stronger.

  “I remember the little boy the demons threatened to torture and kill and how they said they’d make him die slowly if I didn’t take his place. I’ll never forget his name. Joshua.”

  “Josh,” she murmured.

  Dale studied her and Keira flushed again. “Most boys with that name are nicknamed Josh. What else do you remember?”

  “There was a wolf there, a black wolf. And a woman. I think. I remember her scent.” He rubbed an aching spot behind his throbbing temples. “Citrus and wood chips. No, maybe it was lilies and honey. It’s a blur now.”

  Keira rummaged in the freezer, found a bag of frozen peas and handed it to him. “Here. This will help your headache.”

  “Thanks.” He pressed it against his pounding skull. “How did you know my head hurt?”

  “Your face is all compressed.”

  The cold bag felt good against his throbbing head. “I thought you were going to say my aura is red and black.”

  “It is.” Keira dried her hands. “But I know you’re not into that woo-woo stuff.”

  He had the grace to feel ashamed.

  Dale tossed the peas back into the freezer and stuck out a palm. “Let’s start over. I’m Dale Curtis, lieutenant commander of the best team of SEALs in the U.S. Navy, sometime classical pianist and foot-in-the-mouth jerk.”

  A tentative, sweet smile touched her mouth as she offered her hand. “Keira Solomon. Roving gypsy, Luminaire and quirky New Ager. Oh, and I happen to detest bean sprouts.”

  Her palm felt soft, the bones delicate beneath his big hand. Dale caressed it very gently, feeling the bandage he’d placed there, feeling loath to release her. The delicious scent of cookies, vanilla and almonds drifted from her, tendrils wrapping around him and invading his senses. She smelled like freshness and innocence.

  She smelled like home.

  Dale hadn’t been home in a long, long time.

  His guts clenched as he dropped her hand. She did not move but moistened her mouth, staring at him.

  Riveting his gaze on her mouth, he moved closer. Closer still, his own lips parting. Hungering to sample her, see if she tasted as delicious as she smelled.

  Dale reached for her, ready to cup her cheek and lower his mouth to hers.

  A sharp scream cut through the air. Keira blinked, and paled.

  Downstairs. Sully.

  The SEAL never had nightmares. Ever.

  “Oh, God, get it off me! Please! Someone help me!”

  Chapter 6

  Keira’s gaze widened. “I never cleansed the basement with white light.”

  “I have to get down there.” Dale ran into his study and removed his SIG Sauer 9 mm from the safe. Adrenaline pumping through his veins, he grabbed a flashlight and then bolted for the stairs. Keira raced behind him, two large white crystals clutched in her shaking hands.

  More terrified screams. Sully was a stalwart SEAL. He’d faced down terrorists and fire demons. What the hell was down there? Dale toggled the light switch, but nothing happened. The basement remained dark.

  Dark as the night the demons had tied him down and giggled, and then the hot, razorlike claws had gouged his torso...

  Loaded pistol in one hand, flashlight in the other, he climbed down the first step.

  Another haunting scream cut through the air. Fear slicked his throat. Immobilized by it, he could not move.

  And then he heard Keira’s ragged breathing behind him. With every ounce of his strength, he started down the stairs, pointing his flashlight at the steep steps. One of his men needed him.

  Soothing white light suddenly cut through the darkness from behind him. He stopped and turned.

  White light pulsed from the crystals Keira held. She bit her lip and handed him a crystal. “Take this. It will amplify your powers.”

  Another bloodcurdling cry cut through the air. Dale tucked the crystal into his pocket. He believed in his powers as a Mage and the gun’s bullets, not magick stones.

  Sweat beaded his forehead as he advanced toward the bunk beds.

  The stench of sulfur and rotting flesh assaulted his nostrils. Dale gagged and forced himself to push on.

  He swept the flashlights beam over the room. The lamp he’d left burning so Sully wouldn’t be alone in the dark lay shattered on the floor. Dale ran to the wall. While in the hospital, he’d hired an electrician to install floodlights on a separate circuit breaker, in case of emergencies.

  So the basement would always have plenty of light.... He flipped the switch, turning on the lights, revealing a nightmare.

  Dale dropped his flashlight and stared.

  Still lying on the bunk bed, Sully thrashed wildly, fighting with a gray, scaly thing atop him, yellowed fangs sinking into the ensign’s neck. Blood slicked his gray T-shirt.

  “Get it off me!” Sully screamed.

  The ensign’s cry was a sharp slap to his terrified mind. Dale pointed his gun, feeling helpless all over again. His SEAL was being shredded by a demon and he could only stand there with a gun in hand, looking for the best shot.

  “No!” Keira cried out. “I’ll place the crystal on the demon’s back and that will break its hold. Then you grab it and throw it to the floor.”

  Grab it. He pocketed the pistol, stretched out his hands and reached for his powers of telekinesis. Nothing. Drier than the Sahara, damn it.

  As Keira advanced toward the demon, memories flashed. Fangs sinking into his side, the burning agony searing his flesh, his voice hoarse from screaming...

  “Curt, please!”

  The ensign’s voice snapped him from immobility. He ran forward as Keira touched the demon’s thick, sinewy tail with the crystal. The demon pulled his fangs from Sully and released a high-pitched screech like glass grinding in a blender.

  Dale seized the demon, ignoring the stinging lash of its razor-thin tail whipping against his arms, and threw it on the ground. He withdrew his SIG and fired.

  The bullets vaporized in midair. Damn! He spotted the poker by the fireplace and grabbed it.

  The demon turned and hissed. Sully’s blood covered its mouth, making it a red oval. Dale brought the poker down, slamming it on the triangular head.

  Another banshee shriek. Dale hit it again. And again. Grayish blood splattered his bare legs, but he barely noticed. Hands wet with sweat, he kept a death grip on the weapon. The poker descended over and over. Had to kill it, make sure it would never hurt again.

  “Dale! It’s dead.”

  Keira’s soft voice sliced through his frenzy. Dale stared at the floor. Quarter-size dents gouged the carpet. The demon had vanished, leaving behind a pile of gray
goo. The poker clattered to the floor and he wiped his hands on his once-clean polo shirt, turning to Sully.

  Keira had taken strips of the white sheet and was pressing them against the ragged gash on the ensign’s throat. She also held the crystal against his neck, the stone’s white glow fading.

  Sully gripped the makeshift bandage, his gaze wide. “Thanks, Curt. Thought that thing was going to rip my throat out. What the hell was it? One minute I was passed out, the next this foul breath was in my face, and something burning my skin in the dark.”

  “It’s an espy,” Keira said. “Minor demon that sucks on its victim’s blood. Prefers dark, damp places to hide and lie and wait like a spider. Goes after those who are helpless, likes to take from drunks.” She gave Sully an apologetic glance. “Favorite prey.”

  Dale wiped his hands on his shirt again, wondering how she knew so much about this demon.

  Sully shook his head. “Screaming like a baby. Feel stupid.”

  He dropped to the bunk bed and clapped a hand on the SEAL’s shoulder. “You had a demon gnawing on you like a dinner bone. Nothing to be ashamed of.”

  Dale had screamed plenty in the dark, dank basement when the demons came after him.... He focused on Keira, who was staring at the mess on the carpet.

  When her wide-eyed gaze met his, he gave a rueful smile. “Don’t worry. Not going to ask you to clean that. I’ll cut out the section and replace it. I doubt my carpet cleaner can remove demon blood.”

  Sully removed the stained makeshift bandage. The jagged gashes on his neck had knit together. “Amazing,” Dale murmured. “The crystal heals.”

  “White-light therapy.”

  He still didn’t embrace all this crazy stuff about crystals and energy, but the evidence was daunting.

  Dozens of questions raced through his mind, but he tucked them away for later. “Can you walk?” he asked his friend.

  Sully snorted. “No demon’s gonna best me. I’m not a girl to be carried out of here on a stretcher from a puny demon attack.” Then he colored deeply. “I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t mean to imply...”

  “Imply what, Sullivan?”

  At his rough tone, Sully paled and looked at the floor. Silence descended, broken only by the tapping of Dale’s foot on the floor. “Get upstairs, Sullivan.”