Demons & Djinn: Nine Paranormal Romance and Urban Fantasy Novels Featuring Demons, Djinn, and other Bad Boys of the Underworld

by Christine Pope

  And she didn’t have time to get it.

  Her thoughts circled back to the lizard man in the alley. This demon wanted control over her. He wanted the throne. Why? So daemons could rule?

  “He is not WE.” The voices in her head sounded agitated.

  “I get it, I get it. He’s not like you. Is there a way to capture him?”

  “There are possibilities. This requires more study.”

  “What do they mean it requires more study?” Tarian looked at Calliope.

  “I think it means you need to come back later.” Calliope shrugged.

  “Of course it does.” She dropped the creature’s hands, who immediately sank back down into a silent statue pose. She picked up one of the leaves and twirled it while she sorted out the situation.

  “Are you sure you should be doing this? You need rest, Tari.” Calliope chewed on a fingernail, then yanked her hand away from her mouth. From the state of the other fingernails, Calliope had been eating them all day.

  “I need that address. If the archivists here can’t, or won’t, tell me who that lizard man is and how to catch him and destroy his hold on me, then it’s the only lead I have.” Tarian stifled a yawn. If she didn’t sleep soon, she might just fall over where she stood. “What’s with the leaves, anyway?”

  “It’s fascinating, really. Some of the oldest records are on all kinds of material. This one is a journal written by the first Keeper, Serin. I guess she it would be easy to keep it from prying eyes if it looked like a houseplant. It has a lot of information on the first Succession Ritual, why she set it up like she did, and how the dolphin throne came to be part of the House. She mentions a struggle with an ancient daemon, one I’d never heard of before. Lasair. Fire based. There’s even a hint on the archivists. Their presence in the House originated around the same time, almost like they helped to build it. But it’s not easy to read.” Calliope studied her face. “Go take a nap. When I get the address, I’ll wake you up.”

  “Do me a favor? Don’t tell anybody you’re doing it?” Tarian got up from the table, then gave Calliope’s shoulders a squeeze. “The boys all seem to think I’m a china doll about to break.”

  “Well, you do look a bit fragile right now.” Calliope smiled.

  “Hey, I’m a warrior woman!” She flexed a muscle.

  Calliope chuckled, shook her head, then bent down over the leaf again.

  “Don’t tell anyone about Alex either, okay? I want to do the choosing without being chased around.”

  Calliope smiled up at her. “I don’t think you’ll avoid that, now that the Call has gone out. But don’t worry. I won’t tell anybody, sister swear.”

  Tarian paused. “Do I need to worry about the archivists?”

  Calliope looked back down at the leaves. “They’re daemons. Guardians. And they’ve been here for thousands of years. I think it’s demons that you should worry about. Demons are human-made, not magic made. It’s far worse.”

  Tarian left her sister there, wondering if research was even worth the trouble. She’d find a way to track the demon, just as soon as she had a nap. A few hours of sleep, then she’d sneak out, away from the magic protection of the house, so she could use the tracer against the creature who’d put it inside her. The demon had no idea who he’d messed with. She couldn’t wait to show him.

  Chapter 14

  Tarian lay in bed twisted around cool, white, cotton sheets, lost in a delicious state between sleep and awake where she swam in the memory of a dream. All she had left were impressions, but the lingering blend of muscles, dark hair and dimples set her body on fire. She had a feeling from the way her groin throbbed that those arms had been holding her, and those hands had been caressing all sorts of areas. She kept her eyes closed, trying to hold on to the feeling as long as possible.

  A knock at the door jolted her out of the blissful moment. She stared at the mural on her ceiling, a child’s garden full of fairies and wildflowers, and tried to bring her mind back to Earth. Memory flooded back. Demons. Tracers. Rituals. Daric Voltain. A shower with Alex. Her heart pounded. How long had she been asleep? Dammit, she’d set a glow ball, powered by passive magic that would dissipate after about an hour to release a bright light, when she lay down. Why hadn’t it gone off? She glanced over at the wall where a ball of blue flame should have been glowing, but the wall sconce remained dark. If it’d gone off, it had since worn out. How long had she been asleep?

  Another knock at the door reminded her why she was awake in the first place. She groaned and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. Her feet brushed the cold stone floor. Her muscles were stiff, like she’d been sitting still for a long time. Light snuck into the room around the edges of the curtains on the window. She yawned and stretched.

  The knock came again, louder and more insistent, then the door swung open and a head popped through, followed by the entire body of her sister.

  Calliope grinned at Tarian and hurried into the room. Tarian spotted two Sentinels standing at attention across the hall behind her sister. One of them flashed her a small smile, and the other’s cheeks turned instantly red. She glanced down. She wore her usual tank top, panties and nothing else. She rolled her eyes as Calliope shut the door.

  Calliope bounced onto the bed, a triumphant expression etched on her face.

  “You look like you just won a prize. Spill.” Tarian yawned.

  “I have the address. It was harder than it should have been, but I got it in the end.” Calliope flicked her hand, and the wall sconces flared into life.

  Tarian winced at the sudden brightness. “Why?” She escaped the glare by shuffling into the bathroom to get rid of the fur that coated her teeth.

  “Because all records of Mark Chester had been wiped. Including any arrest records. It’s like he vanished. Except whoever messed with the records forgot to check the non-magic ones. Chester was born in a regular hospital in Chester County, Pennsylvania. His parents still live there.”

  Tarian spit out the toothpaste, then poked her head around the corner to see her sister with a Cheshire grin. “How’d you get those?”

  “The only way possible. I went there and pulled them from the files.”

  “They just let you do that?”

  “Well, sure, with a glamour on. I made myself look like an employee who was out sick, waltzed right into the records office. After that, it was easy enough to track his parents, and once I had their address I went to their house and told them I was a girlfriend and couldn’t find him. They seemed very excited to hear he had a steady girl. Or maybe they were just happy I looked so respectable.” Calliope giggled. “They were very happy to give me his address. Frankie was a huge help with the whole thing. He can hack any database. I need to learn how to do that.”

  From the look on her sister’s face, that wasn’t all she’d like to learn from Frankie. Tarian grinned. “I’m shocked Frankie let you out on your own.”

  “Oh, he didn’t, but I didn’t mind the company.” Calliope grinned back.

  “How’d you manage all this in the middle of the night? Philly is hours ahead of us.” Tarian glanced at the bright light through the window, indicating the sun was about to set.

  A sheepish expression replaced the smile on her sister’s face. “You’re right. By the time I figured all this out, they were closed, so I had to wait until they opened the next morning. You were so tired. I told you I’d wake you when I had the address.”

  Tarian stared at her sister in disbelief. She’d slept a full 24 hours? She’d slept through the alarm?

  Calliope looked down at the paper in her hands, then handed it to Tarian without making eye contact.

  Tarian studied the paper for a minute. Chester hadn’t strayed far from his birthplace. She committed the address to memory then put the paper down. She needed a shower to clear the grogginess and fog in her brain.

  Calliope followed her and leaned against the sink. “I found a history on demons. It’s a bit of a mess because they didn’t ac
tually exist.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” She rubbed shampoo into her hair and let the water cascade over her. Memories of Alex and his hands threatened to distract her, but she pushed them out of the way.

  “Well, daemons existed before the Earth. They’re older than old, possibly the oldest thing in existence. They were formed from the original magic spark, the one that was part of the primordial soup that formed the universe. There are four basic kinds. The archivists are just one kind. Daemon’s, the ancient ones, are like us, with different levels of magical ability or races. Demons are a modern thing. From what I could tell, they’re a misunderstanding. Someone saw a daemon, a harmless one, and freaked out. They’ve been persecuted ever since. Sorta like witch hunts. People are always afraid of things they don’t understand.”

  “I don’t think that demon who attacked me is being persecuted enough.”

  “I think the problem is, he’s not really either one. He’s half and half. Half human, half something else. Something twisted. The archivists seem pretty sure of that. He’s not daemon. His magic is different. Whatever it is, they don’t like it. You have them all flustered.”

  “Well, at least they aren’t having their power drained off. They should count themselves lucky.” She finished rinsing her hair, then grabbed a towel and set off in search of fresh clothes. She’d lost an entire day. Her heart skipped a beat at the thought.

  “What’s with the Sentinels?” Tarian scrounged through her closet and emerged with a denim jacket, jeans and a plain black T-shirt. She needed to blend in with a pretty rough crowd. She’d throw on a glamour when she got there, but for now she wanted to conserve energy.

  “Honestly, Tari, everybody knows you’re going to try to hunt this guy down all by yourself. You didn’t think they’d leave you unprotected, did you?” Calliope shook her head. “Especially now. Mother has the Sentinels working up all kinds of extra security. Advisor Jonus filled the rotunda with Sentinels, and all the hallways have a walking patrol. Plus the ones stationed outside wherever you happen to be.”

  “What do you mean ‘especially now’?” Tarian pulled the T-shirt on.

  “The Call, Tari. Potentials are already arriving. You have to be at the reception. Tonight. It’s in a couple of hours.”

  Tarian groaned. “I don’t have time for that. I don’t have time for anything.”

  “The guys are working on finding the demon, and I have the archivists researching it too. We’ll find him.”

  She envied the confidence in her sister’s voice.

  “How many Sentinels?”

  “Don’t even think about sneaking out, Tari.” Calliope’s tone held the same warning in it that their mother’s had when she contemplated doing something her mother wouldn’t like.

  Tarian thrust her legs into the jeans and pulled them up. She ran a brush through the tangled mess of hair.

  “Let me.” Calliope took the brush from her and set to work on her hair. A few minutes later, she had a perfect ponytail complete with a fancy tie back. Her sister, the girly-girl.

  “Thanks.” Tarian patted Calliope on the arm, then opened the bedroom door. She stuck her head out into the hallway. It looked like six guards on each side of the door, plus a few more at either end of the hallway. She shut the door.

  “I suppose they mean to follow me everywhere I go?”

  “They have orders not to let you anywhere near a travel portal.”

  She snorted. “Like they could stop me. What are they going to do, wrestle me to the ground?” Tarian moved over to the corner of the room that held an old rocking chair.

  “They do have stunners, you know.”

  She pulled the chair out of the way, then turned to her sister. “Do me a favor? Cover for me? Tell them I have a horrible headache.”

  “Tari, what are you up to?” Calliope frowned at the corner.

  Tarian smiled. “I just want to check out this address.” She turned, studied the address and picture of a row home on the paper until she had both fixed firmly in her mind, then focused. She was delighted to find her strength back to full. Or nearly full. Something felt a bit off, as if she had a cold, but overall it responded.

  She pushed a tiny bit of magic into the special back door she’d created for sneaking out when she was younger and grinned when she felt it open. It wasn’t a large hole in the perimeter defenses, but it was enough for her to portal through. Perfect. She opened a travel portal to the side of Philly where Chester had supposedly lived. She knew the general area, and the street indicated was not far from a small park. She’d start there and walk.

  A soft hand on her arm stopped her before she could step through.

  “Tari? You’re the only sister I have. Please don’t rush into this.”

  Tarian looked back and felt a surge of guilt at the concern in her sister’s eyes. She gave Calliope a quick hug. “Don’t worry about me, Calli. I’m just checking the address for something I can use. He’s not there anymore, and nobody’ll know I’m gone. I won’t go after the demon tonight, okay? Promise.”

  Her sister stared at her, disbelief etched on her face.

  “I swear. I’ll be right back.” She ignored the guilt and stepped through the portal.

  Chapter 15

  Tarian stepped out of the travel portal and onto a cracked sidewalk in the Mansion district of Philadelphia, so named for a historical landmark of a house that once stood as a grand reminder of better days, but now served as an unofficial half-way house for homeless junkies. She stood across the street from a small, triangular shaped park, created by the intersection of three pothole filled streets. The park contained patches of dirt, a few rusty benches here and there, one street light that did nothing to ease the dark, and a few old leafy trees now carved with so many initials it was surprising they still lived. Feeble bushes wilted around each tree. Someone had dangled old basketball shoes on the light. Here and there a shadow moved around the trees. Drug pushers, the late shift. Tarian blended into the shadow of the houses. She didn’t need their attention.

  She looked around to get her bearings. Behind her, old row houses that looked more like prisons than homes with bars on the windows and doors. A convenience store coated in graffiti. Across the park, a couple of old abandoned warehouses. A surprisingly graffiti-free church complete with steeple and bell. Trash and bottles and the stench of urine everywhere. Ratty cars that probably didn’t run. Prime real estate. She checked the street signs, then set off down the one she wanted. The address took her two blocks from the park along an empty street, except for the occasional rat or cat.

  Chester’s block looked like a war zone, with barred and boarded windows. Torn crime-scene tape decorated the door of several houses. Blank, empty windows stared out at the deserted street. Graffiti coated everything. She stopped under a grimy street light in front of a section of house that probably used to be white but now looked brownish gray. One of the steps leading to the door was missing. A bullet hole graced one window. Inside, a surprisingly feminine flowery curtain valiantly tried to dress the place.

  Looking down at the paper in her hand, Tarian scrutinized the address. She looked back at the dumpy house in front of her, then at the crooked number on the mailbox. She was definitely at the right location.

  A spicy scent, so out of place in the filth, wafted over her a second before the magic signature tickled the hair on the back of her neck and in her nose. She whirled in place, her magic focused enough to block any spell coming at her. She relaxed slightly when she saw Daric Voltain standing there.

  “We have to stop meeting like this.” He glanced down at her arm, but the denim jacket she wore covered the scar. “So your healers solved the problem?”

  “How do you know so much about demons?” She crossed her arms, hiding the injured one underneath.

  “My mother was a teacher.” He shrugged, as if that explained everything.

  She studied him. There wasn’t enough light to get a good look at him, but she ha
d to admit he made an impressive silhouette against the street light. A remnant of the dream she’d woken up to circled in her head for a moment and heated up her face. She could imagine those arms belonging to Daric and could imagine all too clearly how those arms would feel wrapped around her.

  “What are you doing here?” She took a step backward, out of the pool of light.

  “I was about to ask you the same question.” Daric gestured at the neighborhood. “This doesn’t seem like Scion territory. Especially since you’re supposed to be somewhere else tonight.”

  She didn’t think it was possible for her cheeks to be any hotter, but she was wrong. He’d been Called. He knew about the ritual. A brief image of him fulfilling the ritual flashed through her mind. She wondered how he’d feel, compared to Alex. Then she pushed that thought right out of her head and ignored the sudden throbbing in her groin. “I’m here on official business.”

  “In the middle of the Mansion, on the night of the reception for Potentials?” His eyes flicked to the house behind her. “We have something in common. I’m on official business too.”

  “What sort of business?”

  “I’m looking for someone who is supposed to live here.”

  “This is Mark Chester’s last known address. If you’re looking for him, you’re wasting your time.” She shifted from one foot to the other. Why did she feel so agitated around this guy?

  “Actually, it’s his cousin I’m looking for. Kevin.” Daric stepped closer, and the light from the street lamp surrounded him.

  His crooked smile made her stomach twist. A faint jagged scar on his left cheek emphasized his eyes, and his nose looked as if it’d been broken. But somehow, it all came together in a way that made her want to kiss him. Or slap him. Maybe both.

  She willed her body to stop reacting to pheromones. Her body didn’t give a crap what she wanted and let her know by sending her nervous butterflies.