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

by Christine Pope

  “Fool! What are you doing?” Victor’s eyes widened.

  “As you requested, I have delivered. My portion of the agreement is fulfilled.”

  Rasmussen waved a hand, and the red mist that had coated her vision lifted, hovered in the air and then settled on Victor.

  Control over her body shifted. It wavered for a moment and then snapped together. It felt different but still hopeless. Victor’s essence flowed into her. Every slimy bit of him invaded her to the core. It was the worst kind of violation she could imagine. Rasmussen had been clinical and cold. Victor was demented, evil. It made her wonder which was worse, demon or human. Maybe humans were the real demons.

  “And now it is time for your part of the agreement, Victor Aiello.” Rasmussen waited, exuding calm patience at complete odds with the tension in the room. Only his red eyes betrayed his mood. He was ready for a fight.

  “You haven’t fulfilled your portion. I do not have the throne. You’ll wait until I have it.” Victor smiled his politician’s smile, the same one he’d used with her.

  “Is the item in your possession?” Rasmussen sounded as though he discussed the weather.

  “It is. Now give me what I asked for. Give me the throne. Then you’ll have what you wanted.”

  He lied. He used that smile when he lied. Whatever it was Rasmussen wanted, Victor didn’t have it. If they had a deal, he was about to break it. She stood between them, watching like a helpless puppy, surrounded by people who did not understand anything odd was happening. Yet.

  “Tarian!” She heard Alex’s shout from behind her. She couldn’t turn to look or respond.

  Rasmussen raised a lazy hand and she felt a blast rush past, and then heard a grunt followed by a thud behind her, along with exclamations of shock and surprise from several sources. Alex!

  “Where is the book, Victor Aiello? Our agreement is not complete.”

  “I take the throne first.” Victor pointed at her. Her entire body snapped to attention. “Scion, order the throne to pass to me.”

  Her body turned to the throne but did nothing. As far as she knew, that simply couldn’t be done. Calliope had told her as much. It had to be won in battle, and at the moment, its place in her family was solidified by her completion of the ritual. Controlling her wasn’t enough. He’d have to kill her mother to put it up for grabs.

  She hoped he wouldn’t ask her that question. She’d be forced to answer.

  “Why isn’t this working?” Victor turned on Rasmussen. “I feel nothing.”

  “The power that lies in that object is not one I command. You must discover it on your own. The book?”

  In the smallest portion of her mind, the part that was still uniquely her, Tarian realized what Rasmussen sought. The Book of Daemon. He’d dealt with Victor to get it. She couldn’t fathom how Victor convinced the demon he had it to give. Somehow, he’d leveraged Sucole. But Steffahn was the one who really held it. Why hadn’t Victor dealt with Steffahn directly? The whole thing made no sense.

  During the exchange, crowd noise behind her died away to shocked silence. For a moment, everything hung in disbelieving silence as the Potentials absorbed the situation. She sensed movement, tension, disbelief, outrage. Murmurs turned to objections which turned to shouts. Then several stepped forward into her field of vision and a barrage of magical attacks commenced. Power whizzed by her head. It wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough. Rasmussen didn’t even notice it.

  “Victor Aiello, do you possess the item for which we had an agreement?” His words, coated in ice, hung in the air above the noise of the crowd. She sensed the consequences of a negative answer. But Victor seemed beyond hearing.

  “There’s no book, you moron. There never was. And now she’s mine, and there’s nothing you can do about it.” Victor snarled at her. “Tarian, pass the throne to me.”

  She couldn’t, but he hadn’t asked her a question so she couldn’t explain. All she did was stand there. She cheered for that small blessing. The less he knew, the better.

  “Victor Aiello, you will be given one chance. Atonement for attempted dissolution of agreement will begin now, after which our agreement will be forfeited if you do not produce the item, per agreement.” Rasmussen placed a hand on Victor’s chest. Victor convulsed then dropped to the floor in apparent agony.

  Rasmussen turned to her. His eyes glowed red but otherwise he appeared calm. Deadly. “I think you’ll discover your joining was a mistake. But I commend the attempt. It was…surprising.” Rasmussen stood close to her, his mouth at her ear. “I’d have you myself, but I sense it is too late. Pity. Your lineage combined with my heritage would have made for a powerful weapon against certain fiery entities. But now I think perhaps your offspring will provide a much more interesting opportunity, particularly to a certain Ancient being. The outcome of your actions will be extraordinary. It presents possibilities I will enjoy exploiting. I can be patient.” He licked his lips.

  She struggled against her bonds, but they held. His threat to use her unborn child made her boil inside her cage. She hadn’t wanted to be pregnant but if she was, she’d protect the child with every force she could muster.

  Behind Rasmussen, Victor gained control of his body once more. He got to his feet, his face red and tight with anger.

  “Tarian, kill him.” He pointed at Rasmussen.

  Chapter 39

  Tarian’s body shot a ball of fire directly at Rasmussen’s chest. Her body didn’t hesitate to send another. She’d never been able to create something that large or powerful with fire before. At this distance, the blast should have been lethal, even if fire wasn’t her strongest affinity.

  Rasmussen formed a shield that blocked everything her body threw at him. The power ricocheted, striking several men around them who crumpled. She sent fireball after fireball, creating a barrage that a normal person would never have been able to withstand. She found it strange that her body relied on fire when air and water were her strongest abilities, but she obeyed the intentions Victor sent her way, and he relied mostly on fire. It hadn’t occurred to him to figure out her strengths. His pursuit of power made him blind.

  Men shouted. Waves of power from all sides rebounded and struck everywhere but their intended target. She could see only Rasmussen in front of her, and Victor behind him, manic with control and power.

  Sweat trickled down Rasmussen’s face. He concentrated on deflecting. She hated that she was being forced to do something she’d have done on her own. She’d wanted to destroy the demon. On her own. In her own way. The ability to choose made all the difference in the world. If she’d been under her own free will, she’d still be fighting Rasmussen, but this way Victor would use her up and from what she could tell, she’d never defeat Rasmussen. Her power was no match, not even here in her own home. Not using only fire. And it was only a matter of time before Rasmussen or Victor figured out how to get the throne.

  “Tarian. I said kill! Something stronger.”

  Her body gathered power, focused into something she couldn’t even begin to understand and she watched, horrified, as a liquid ball of water, blended with fire, erupted from her hands and surged toward Rasmussen. It shouldn’t have been possible. She’d never created anything like it before.

  Rasmussen roared as it struck his shield and dissolved it.

  The chandelier above them exploded, and a shower of glass shards cascaded down over the crowd. Everyone threw their hands over their heads. Rasmussen dove to the center of the room.

  Panic rushed through the few who remained as they gathered magic defenses of their own or shoved to get out of the way. Through it all, she stood, unflinching. Glass cut into her arms. She didn’t feel pain. If she’d been further to the left, the debris would have killed her. Victor hadn’t thought to order her out of the way.

  He had, however, ordered her to kill. Her body continued trying to fulfill the command, and turned to face Rasmussen and the rest of the room. She sent another fireball at him, which struck home and fla
red.

  Rasmussen roared, then spread his arms out wide. Sound ushered forth with almost visible velocity. He transformed in front of her, growing almost a foot taller while scales erupted along his face and neck. His biceps bulged, and his extended hands ballooned and exploded into claws.

  In the part of her mind that was still her own, she knew it was over. She didn’t have the power to defeat him, not transformed into a full demon. She didn’t even know everything he was capable of in this form, but she could guess.

  Knowledge grants power stronger than magic.

  She sent bolt after bolt toward Rasmussen. He deflected each one as a child would toss aside an old toy.

  Daric ran through the door. She watched as he stopped, looked at her, Rasmussen, then Victor.

  “Victor, stop it! You’ll kill her.” Her body continued to rain fire on Rasmussen, who now advanced on her. She was a pawn, caught in between two evil demons determined to win. A small part of her rejoiced that Victor hadn’t ordered her to kill anyone else. Yet.

  Through the confusion, the dust, the haze, and the rebounding power, Tarian saw the side door open and Advisor Jonus run through, pulling her mother along with him. He stopped just inside the room and pointed at Tarian as though he knew exactly where she was. Her mother stopped short, stunned.

  Tarian wanted to scream. Her mother had to get out of here. The Keeper had to protect the throne. Tarian’s body didn’t care what Tarian wanted and continued to fire on Rasmussen, drenching him in water gathered from the pregnant Pacific air. Victor didn’t care. He hadn’t even noticed her mother’s arrival.

  Her mother’s hands reached out, and the glow around the Dolphin Throne joined with her. She was going to fire on Rasmussen. Her mother didn’t know that Victor held the real strings.

  As Tarian continued to fire at Rasmussen, from inside her own head she watched as Advisor Jonus shuffled to the side of the room, away from her mother. Toward Victor.

  Her mother shot a glowing ball of light at Rasmussen. It struck him in the head, and he staggered back. Her next ball of light struck home on his chest. His shield shattered. He roared, then turned toward her mother. He flicked a claw, and the roof over her mother collapsed.

  Tarian screamed. Inside her head she raged. She could do nothing. Forced to watch as parts of the ceiling cascaded down on her mother. Shouts, groans and screams filled the air. Her mother fell underneath the weight of stone and rock. Tarian beat against her prison. Her heart raged and her soul cried out, but nobody could hear. Her mother hadn’t even gotten off a shield spell. The throne hadn’t protected her. Why?

  Tarian could do nothing. She knew, deep inside, there was no way her mother had survived. She was impotent, helpless, hopeless. Agony washed over the tiny portion of mind she did control.

  “Victor, dammit, stop it! She can’t fight this battle for you. He’s too strong.” Daric shouted from somewhere behind her. She didn’t care. It didn’t matter. She couldn’t win this fight. She’d lost the minute Rasmussen stole her blood.

  “Brother. Nice of you to join me. Didn’t I tell you I would one day call the throne my own?” Victor’s eyes looked wild and unfocused, but he stood tall, his shoulders squared.

  Daric advanced on them. Her mind whirled around the word brother, even as her body kept up the assault on Rasmussen.

  Rasmussen looked amused as he continued to parry Tarian’s blows. “I ssssense surprise from your captive, Victor Aiello.”

  “That’s right, Tarian. Didn’t Daric tell you we were brothers?”

  “No.” Since he’d asked a direct question, her body was free to answer.

  “Still keeping secrets then, eh, brother? Didn’t show her the family skeletons? Thought you’d jump into her bed like all the others, just to spite me? Well, you’re too late, little brother. She’s mine. The throne is mine.”

  Her heart was having trouble wrapping itself around what her head was telling her. Daric and Victor were related…and obviously Victor was pure evil. What did that make Daric? Were they in on the whole thing together?

  Her body sagged from the sheer amount of energy she expended. It was more than she’d ever have attempted on her own. Rasmussen toyed with her, waiting for her to run out of steam. His eyes gleamed as he looked at her.

  “Victor Aiello, do you have the item for which we agreed?”

  “You’re finished here, Rasmussen.” Victor laughed. “I have the girl. I’ll have the throne. You have nothing. Your services are no longer required.”

  Daric raced past Tarian, toward Victor, his face a mask of determination, anger and concentration. She couldn’t turn to watch. She could only hear as the two collided, and feel the power clash behind her. Something, a fist or a magic pulse, struck her in the back.

  Her legs buckled, and she fell to her knees. Magic from all sides raced toward her. She pushed again at the power that held her. Nothing. Still trapped.

  Rasmussen’s muscles bulged as he brought his arms up for a death blow. She cringed inside, powerless to stop it.

  The power shot straight for her, then deflected above her head. A shout of pain, followed by a crash and rain of wood shards, followed by a groan.

  The hold on her body lifted so suddenly, she collapsed the rest of the way to the floor. The knot in her neck released, spreading warmth to the muscles around it as though they’d liquified after an hour long massage. She lay, panting, as she absorbed the fact that the pull on her power had ceased, that her mind was her own and her body under her own command. Somehow, Rasmussen had unlocked the cage and released her mind.

  Her body. Her mind. Free. Exhausted, but free.

  Rasmussen advanced on her. He looked shaken. His eyes darted from left to right as if searching for something.

  Chapter 40

  Tarian tried to get up but couldn’t make her legs work. They refused to move or support her in any way. Her head rang from the blows Rasmussen had already dealt. When she’d been under Victor’s control, she hadn’t felt them. Now she dealt with the after affects of not only the hits, but also the ones she’d dealt.

  Drained of energy. Physically exhausted. She couldn’t fight back even if she willed it. She’d failed. Her mother…she couldn’t have survived. It was her fault. All her fault.

  She put her hands to her head and tried to squeeze the pain into nonexistence. All she did was cause more stars. Behind Rasmussen, she saw Calliope enter at a full run, then stop as she took in the scene. Calliope’s mouth fell open, and her eyes widened in shock, disbelief or fear, or maybe all three.

  There is strength in yielding.

  Maybe there was. Or maybe all she had to do was make Rasmussen think she had given up. Tarian remained still, even as he slowly advanced on her. He glanced down at her but didn’t stop.

  After he passed, she held her hand out to Calliope. She didn’t have the strength to even tell her to be quiet, but hoped Calli would have the sense.

  Calliope crouched down and moved quickly, dodging tables and the ruined chandelier. She reached Tarian’s side and took her hand. Tarian squeezed, and felt the familiar sister bond take hold.

  “All of this for a trinket.” Rasmussen sounded bemused.

  Tarian’s body shook as she pulled herself up onto her side. She shifted so she could face Rasmussen. He ignored her, his attention focused entirely on the Dolphin Throne. She might have thwarted Victor’s plan for the ritual, but Rasmussen could still attempt to steal it by force. He might not know it yet, but he’d figure it out soon, she had no doubt.

  “I sensed your hunger for this object. I sensed need and longing. But not its purpose. It is simple wood, and should be earth magic, but feels more water based. Such an item can scarcely be powerful.” He sounded confused.

  He didn’t know. He couldn’t see the magic of the throne. She could see his power as a red mist of energy, but he couldn’t see hers. She swallowed the lump in her throat. The Dolphin Throne, steeped in water, created energy hidden from this creature of earth and fire.
He could not use it. Could not sense it. In this case, knowledge truly was power.

  She tried to pull together her power to use it while he was distracted, and her head nearly exploded. She couldn’t do it. She didn’t have it in her. She looked at the Dolphin Throne again. Where was the protection it was supposed to offer?

  She saw the glow. It filled the room and pulsated, mingled with the remaining red dust of demon magic. It blended and circled around all of them. She hadn’t seen it before, when she’d been under Rasmussen’s control. Perhaps it hadn’t been there.

  You look but you do not see.

  The power waited to be called, to be used.

  “You have to let it in.” Calliope whispered. “It’s waiting for you to claim it.”

  There is strength in yielding.

  Rasmussen raised his hands. Red mist coalesced around him. He shaped something, and she didn’t want to find out what. He’d held her once. She wouldn’t let him do it again. No scratches, no blood, no rituals, no banishment.

  Knowledge grants power stronger than magic.

  She squeezed Calliope’s hand, closed her eyes, and opened herself to her sister. With the influx of strength, she opened further. She accepted the Throne, the responsibility and her position as Scion in her heart, allowing its power to fill her as the opportunity it truly was, not the burden she’d once thought it to be.

  Her strength and resolve grew, solidified, became something more. Calliope’s own power joined Tarian’s to create a new blend of air, water, fire, and earth. It startled her to realize how much earth Calliope actually possessed. She’d thought her sister purely air.

  Tarian let go of her fear and anger, and cast her mind into the glow of power surrounding her. The Dolphin Throne waited. It was hers to command. It greeted her, a long-awaited blend of acceptance and indignation. She should have done this earlier. She’d fought against it so long, for no reason.

  In her heart, she apologized for avoiding her place, her destiny. She was born for the throne, and in return the throne would guide and protect her. It wasn’t a bad deal. It was an honor.