Demon Wolf

by Bonnie Vanak

  Dale continued to send bolts of white energy at the Centurions, but deprived of form, they laughed as they dodged the blows.

  And then the three forms of mist took shape near the cluster of trees.

  Necromancers. Demons who could summon the spirits of the dead and control them. With slits for eyes, flat nostrils and ugly slashes for mouths, their smooth, bald heads sported sharp spikes and they stood more than seven feet tall. Three of them, all waving wands of pure wormwood.

  This was the pact the Centurions had made—to summon the dead and force them to do their bidding.

  Dry-mouthed, Keira stared at the evil ones. On a par with pyro demons, they could raise armies of living corpses, commanding them to kill, threatening all in their path.

  Dale and his SEALs could not fight them. Clouds of evil clung to them, their darkness too great to fight with magick powers.

  But the team could kill the Centurions once those demons took form. Her blood, mixed with theirs, might do it. Keira remembered the spell she’d heard them chanting back in the warehouse.

  “Sully, give me your blade!” she screamed.

  The SEAL tossed her his KA-BAR knife. She slashed her wrist and ran into the fray, targeting the Centurions, spraying droplets of her demon-laced blood at the Centurions. As the blood hit the ghost shapes, she chanted the spell. Suddenly the Centurions materialized into their human forms.

  Dale stopped his attack. “They’re human. Kill them,” he ordered.

  Sully dematerialized near one Centurion, the demon’s corpulent form quivering in real fear. Keira winced and turned her head as Sully reached out and wrapped his hands around the Centurion’s neck. A sickening crack sounded.

  As each demon dropped down, Dale and Shay chanted a vanquishing spell. One by one the demons died under the hands of the SEALs. But for Antony, the largest and strongest. Dale ran after him, his knife at the ready. But Antony raised his hands and chanted in a loud voice ringing over the glade.

  Horror pulsed through her as the Necromancers emerged from the trees. Dale glanced their way, and that small pause was enough to give Antony time to slip the blade in his hands and thrust it at Dale. Dale dodged, but the blade sank into his shoulder. He grimaced and aimed his knife at Antony, and did not miss. Black blood spurted.

  He dug Antony’s knife out from his shoulder and cupped the wound. “Report,” he said wearily.

  “All dead, sir. The Contra and Sandinista armies are gone, as well.”

  “Keira!” Dale turned, worry riddling his face. Blood streamed from his wounded shoulder. “You okay?”

  “They’re coming,” she whispered. “Oh, gods, they’re coming. You can’t kill them, they’re too strong. There’s too much darkness inside them.”

  The Necromancers advanced, creeping toward Dale. He had no white light left to fight them, expending it all to seal the bolt-hole and in the fight against the Centurions. With wild hope, she glanced upward, but the night sky was clear, no storm clouds near for him to draw more power.

  He would die here. And then become a living slave of the Necromancers, a slave as she had been to the Centurions.

  She touched the slave armband on her right arm. It glowed with light, a beacon in the inky blackness. Never use it around evil, Renegade had warned. It might compel you to do something noble and totally reckless, like suction demon souls.

  Incantations... She knew the exact one. The Necromancers advanced. Shay directed beams of power, but the stream was too thin, too weak.

  “Get out of here,” Dale ordered. “Take Keira and go.”

  “Curt,” Dakota said, his expression tight. “We won’t leave you.”

  “That’s an order.” Dale drew his blade, stained with blood blackened in the moonlight. “I’m a Primary Mage. I’ll handle them.”

  Her eyes wet, Keira tossed off Renegade’s grip and tore off, facing the Necromancers. “Malorum, malorum, malorum,” she began to chant.

  Dale turned. “No,” he screamed. “Keira, don’t do it.”

  “Veniat in me,” she continued.

  The white quartz on the slave armband began to glow. Keira drew in a deep breath and began to siphon the darkness inside the Necromancers, drawing on their evil power, taking it inside her. Filling her soul with their blackness, watching as a thick black mist streamed out of the Necromancers, floating in the air toward her. The dark power gathered until it became a large, whirling ball.

  Her terrified gaze met Dale’s. “I’m sorry. I love you.”

  And then with a tremendous breath, she inhaled the darkness, feeling it whoosh inside her. The foulness of dark power, the stench of evil, filled her spirit, dimming the last bit of white light inside her, extinguishing it until it went out.

  And then she felt nothing.

  * * *

  Summoning all his remaining strength, Dale killed the Necromancers with a last bit of white energy. They burst apart, showering the ground with black dust.

  Burst apart, because there was nothing left inside them. No power. Keira had siphoned it all.

  Sully wiped his forehead with a sleeve. “Last of them, sir. Bolt-hole’s sealed.”

  Renegade shifted back into human form and tore into his pack, ripping open packets of gauze. He ripped open Dale’s sleeve and began dressing the wound. But Dale’s sight centered on Keira, weaving listlessly on her feet like one of the armies of the dead.

  Light had vanished from her beautiful eyes. She said nothing, only stared ahead.

  As if she were dead to the world...

  * * *

  One week after their return from Nicaragua, Dale paced his kitchen. Cassandra sat at the table, her gaze sympathetic. Catatonic, Keira sat at the table, as well. The deep scars on her back had healed the moment the Centurions died.

  But she seemed dead as well, her empty eyes staring into space. He dropped beside her, chafing her icy hands.

  She did not move.

  “I called Etienne, and he tracked down your brother. He’s on his way, Keira. Your little brother, the one you sacrificed yourself to save.”

  Still, she remained motionless, staring ahead.

  Nothing worked. He’d hired a nurse to care for her, but though Keira remained obedient, performing all the normal functions, such as eating, she did not talk.

  “Help her,” he begged Cassandra. “Please. She’s been like this since taking the darkness inside her.”

  “I can perform a white-light ritual, but the darkness will remain. The only solution is white-light cleansing and erasure of all her memories of this time.” The Mystic Witch looked at him. “It will erase all her memories of all that happened before she met you. She will not remember you.”

  Stricken, he stared at Keira. “Nothing of me? I’ll be a stranger.”

  “Nothing of you or your time together.”

  “What if I see her again? Will that trigger memories?”

  “She may not react favorably, and avoid you,” Cassandra warned.

  Dale’s insides squeezed. He stroked a gentle finger over Keira’s cold, cold hands. “But she will be healed?”

  “Yes. And she will remember her little brother. She needs time, Dale, time to heal from her terrible experiences.”

  Closing his eyes, he remembered all the good times they’d shared, the tender lovemaking, how he felt when he’d found his missing half.

  And now, he would lose her.

  Too late he’d realized how he’d been married more to the navy than his first wife. He’d expected her to make sacrifices and understand his rigid code of honor. And now he faced an even greater loss.

  Kathy had been his wife, but Keira was his heart. He must let her go.

  “Do it.” Dale raised Keira’s hand to his lips and kissed it, barely able to speak for the thick lump clogging his throat.

  “I will see to her welfare. She will be safe,” Cassandra promised.

  Dale stood and dropped a kiss on Keira’s unmoving mouth, feeling her lips cold and unresponsive beneath the
subtle pressure of his.

  He bid goodbye at the door a few moments later, watching them back Cassandra’s car out of his long driveway.

  Then he watched them drive away. As the tears finally sprang to his eyes and rolled down his cheeks, he did not wipe them away.

  Chapter 25

  Six months later

  After locking Runes and Tunes for the night, Keira got into her little car and headed for the beach.

  Working at Cassandra Sullivan’s store had been the best thing that ever happened to her, she thought. The kind Mystic Witch had given her a job when Keira’s brother arrived, had helped her find an apartment.

  Still, something felt missing.

  Lately, she’d been compelled to walk the sands, shoes in hand, and gaze up at the stars. And more often, she’d been visiting the beach frequented by navy personnel. Each time she saw a man in uniform, her heart gave an absurd twist.

  She was happy. Simon was in grad school at Virginia Tech and doing well. Her salary paid for a small two-bedroom apartment. After years of slavery to the Centurions, she was finally freed. She had no memory of being freed by the demons, only recalled seeing Simon when he arrived. Her little brother was alive and doing well.

  When she asked Cassandra what happened, the Mystic Witch hesitated and told her that a courageous Mage had vanquished the evil.

  Cassandra said eventually she’d get her memories back. Perhaps.

  Keira sat on the sand and watched the surf lick the shore, listening to the crash of waves. Nearby, a tall man walked a large gray dog. The dog resembled a wolf. Silly. No wolves were on Virginia Beach.

  Suddenly the dog broke free of the leash and bounded toward her. It knocked her over, licking her face. Laughing, she fended it off and then scratched the beast behind its ears. The dog grinned at her.

  “Shay! Stop it. Get off the lady, now!”

  The owner jogged up and grabbed the dog’s collar, pulling him away.

  “I’m sorry,” the man apologized. “He’s a good dog, but seldom listens to orders.”

  The wolf/dog seemed to give the man a wounded look.

  “It’s all right. I like dogs.” She gave the dog a final pat.

  “I hope he didn’t scare you. I was jogging on the beach and he managed to get away from me.” The man grinned, and it softened his severe features. “Though you don’t look like the type to scare easily. Mind if I sit down?”

  Keira considered. “Only if you promise you won’t try licking me to death like Cujo here.”

  An odd look entered his gaze and then he gave a small smile. “Not until we’re good friends.”

  She stole a look. He had short, dark hair, silvered at the temples, and incredible gray eyes. His body was toned with hard muscle. He looked like a man who made a living doing physical work.

  “You work at the base,” she said suddenly. “I’ve seen you on this beach before, and once when you were in uniform. You’re a lieutenant commander, right?”

  Keira didn’t know how she knew that, but deep inside, she did.

  “Commander. I received a promotion last month.” Gray eyes twinkled as he tilted his head. “And you are...?”

  She stuck out a palm, and he took it, his hand large and square and warm. An odd jolt of familiarity hit her. “Keira Solomon. I live not far from here.”

  “Dale Curtis.”

  He released her hand, slowly, though she had the feeling he wanted to keep holding it. Why did this man seem so...familiar? She didn’t know any navy officers.

  Compelled to touch him, she placed a hand over his heart. “You wear something. Here. A badge of honor, a pin... It scarred you when they pounded it into your chest during an initiation....”

  Where did that come from?

  “Yes. We call it a Budweiser. I’m a navy SEAL.” His gray gaze held hers captive, searing, penetrating.

  Keira dropped her hand, feeling embarrassed. “I apologize. I’m precognitive...and it slips away from me. I work in a New Age shop and Cassandra, my boss, says I’m very aware of others and their pain.”

  But he looked interested and began asking questions about her visions and her work, and he seemed so easy and comfortable to talk with, she lost track of the time. The sun began setting over the ocean, streaking the blue sky with rose and gold.

  He glanced at his watch. “Getting late. I’m starved. Say, I was going to grab some dinner before heading home. Want to join me?”

  “What about your dog?”

  Dale glanced at the dog, its ears pricked forward.

  “There’s a place on the boardwalk where we can eat outside. They won’t mind him.”

  “Sure. I’d like that. Only if it’s steak, and we split the bill.”

  He grinned. “Deal.”

  * * *

  Dinner turned out to be a fun night, spent talking for two hours. He asked her out for the next night. And the next.

  Every night for the next two weeks, Commander Dale Curtis arrived at her apartment and took her out. They ate at various restaurants or sometimes had a picnic on the beach. Keira discovered he was divorced, no children, and liked to play the piano.

  “Once I made no time for it, but someone I knew convinced me I needed balance in my life,” he told her.

  One Sunday he took her to a spot on the boardwalk and treated her to a special thermos of hazelnut coffee he’d brought along in the truck.

  “My favorite.” Keira sighed with pleasure as she sipped the brew. “How did you know?”

  A wry smile touched his full mouth. “Educated guess.”

  She liked this man with his quiet manner, assurance and confidence. He treated her like a lady, yet at times, she saw a sadness in his eyes and wished she could erase it.

  And then he’d kiss her, and make her forget all else.

  After a month, when he still hadn’t done more, she began to wonder if there were something wrong with her. Or him.

  So when he came to pick her up to take her out for dancing, she bluntly asked him. “What’s wrong with me?”

  Dressed in a dark gray suit, looking distinguished and handsome, he gave her a quizzical look. “Nothing. You look lovely in that dress.”

  “I’m not asking if I look too fat,” she blurted out. “I want to know why you haven’t done anything more than kiss me. We’ve been seeing each other for almost two months. I’ve met a couple of your friends, been to your house, even. But you...don’t seem interested in me that way.”

  Heat suffused her. “You know. Why haven’t we had sex?”

  Dale pushed a lock of hair behind her ear. The tender gesture echoed in her mind and seemed oddly familiar. “Making love. With you, Keira, it would be making love. And I don’t want to pressure you. I cherish our time together, cherish you too much to rush you into anything.”

  For an answer, she reached up and kissed him. “Guess what? I’m ready for a little pressure, big guy.”

  Something dark and sensual flickered in his gaze. “Tonight, then. After the club.”

  * * *

  Much as she loved to dance, and the club he brought her to was a favorite, where they played lots of slow dances, Keira itched with impatience.

  He drove to his house and parked in the driveway. As the ticking engine cooled, his hands tightened on the steering wheel.

  “I want to hoist you over my shoulder, carry you inside and go all caveman on you,” he said quietly. “But you deserve more than that. I can’t promise I won’t lose control, Keira, because I want you so badly it’s taking all my strength not to take you right here. But I will promise I’ll try to make tonight special.”

  When they got inside and he locked the door, she did not hesitate, but slid her arms around his waist and kissed him deeply.

  They barely made it upstairs to his bedroom. Stripping off their clothing, kicking off their shoes. Arms entwined around each other, they fell on the bed, kissing. His tongue stroked, deep and sure, sparking a distant tug of remembrance. The man kissed as if he knew exac
tly how she liked it.

  Heat flared in his eyes as he lifted his head. “So long,” he said thickly. “I’ve waited and watched and wanted you for so long.”

  Dale’s intensity frightened her a little, but then he began to kiss her softly, showering her with tiny, hot kisses that made her squirm and ache to draw closer. She clung to him, arching as he entered her in a hard thrust.

  “Look at me, Keira,” he said softly. “See only me.”

  Her gaze met his and she saw passion, tenderness, mixed with stark male possessiveness. And something else. Keira looked up into her lover’s face and saw a reflection of herself.

  He made love to her with exquisite tenderness, as they wrapped around each other in a desperate attempt to become one. Dale held nothing back. Every raw emotion was clearly expressed, from awed wonder to heated desire.

  They came together in a blinding explosion of heat. For a long moment he lay atop her, gasping as she pulled him closer, then he rolled off. Keira lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling, feeling oddly shattered and yet overjoyed, as if he’d made love not just with his body, but with his heart. The intimacy they shared left her sated at last, filling the empty spot always inside her these past few months.

  Dale drew his hands down her body, as if enjoying the feel of silky, supple flesh beneath the roughness of his calloused palms. Keira turned over and gazed into his eyes, heavy-lidded with satisfaction.

  Suddenly memories rushed back in a flood, the wave cresting over her and crashing down. Dale Curtis. The courageous navy SEAL commander who’d given her back her life, had sacrificed everything to save her.

  “Dale,” she whispered. “Oh gods, Dale, it’s you. I remember. Everything.”

  His expression eased into pure relief. “Good.”

  “You’re here,” she said, beginning to cry.

  He smiled and stroked her hair, then kissed away her tears. “I never went away, sweetheart. Ever.”

  * * *

  “There she is, sir.”

  The helo pilot spoke into his mouthpiece. Ears covered in soft gel headphones, Dale nodded and gazed at the sand. They’d swept this perimeter twice, but even hovering, it was hard to pinpoint a dark-haired woman with a jaunt to her step strolling on the sand.