Demon's Cradle (Devany Miller Book 3)

by Ponce, Jen

  “What about Grandpa, Mom?” Liam asked.

  I shrugged. “I haven’t heard anything from him.” I didn’t know if I should look for him, hook to him, see if I could contact him somehow. Maybe he’d managed to sweet talk Kenda. Maybe he planned to let me know as soon as he needed my help. I just didn’t know and wished we’d made firmer plans. Well, plans, period. “I’ll think of a way to find him. Don’t worry, okay?”

  As soon as the kids were on the bus, I found Ellison’s thread and hooked to him. Or tried to, anyway. I came out on top of a campfire and scattered burning wood and ashes everywhere as I danced free. The man lying by the fire cursed at me and slapped at himself, tamping the red embers that had landed on his clothes.

  Ellison wasn’t anywhere in sight. “Have you seen a guy, tall? Skriven-like?”

  “I ain’t seen shit. Where the hell’d you come from anyhow?”

  I squinted at him then spun a three-sixty. No one else in sight. What the hell? I caught hold of Ellison’s thread again and followed it—

  —and came out in the middle of a market. It wasn’t a Theleoni market, thank heavens, though I was starting to feel like I needed to stomp shit and had I found myself in their Bazaar, I would have torn the place apart. I searched for any sign of Ellison but nothing. When I followed the thread again, it led me to an old lady who looked up at me with rheumy eyes and a toothless smile. “You want to buy some domar berries, chickie?”

  “No thank you.” I hooked away before she could talk me out of my money and dropped in on Vasili who was at home this time. “It didn’t work.”

  Vasili nearly dropped the flask he was holding. “Can’t you make a noise before just popping in?”

  “Knock knock,” I said, doing my best not to roll my eyes. “Why can’t I find him? The thread led me to a dude in the middle of nowhere and an old lady. No Ellison.”

  He settled the flask in a wire holder and brushed his hands on the leather apron he wore. “It doesn’t make sense.”

  “No it doesn’t.”

  He went to the bookshelf and futzed in front of the stacks for a while before pulling a book free of its brethren. “Do you think he pledged himself to another Originator?”

  “The thread is still connected to me.”

  “Ah true.” He plopped the book on the table and flipped it open, licking his fingers as he rifled through the tome.

  After a few moments of watching him read, I said, “Well?”

  “Huh?”

  “Did you find anything?” I gestured to the book.”

  “This? Oh no. I’m researching how to grow Brashen. It’s a type of fungus. Very virulent. It can parasitize an entire planet in months under the right conditions.”

  I counted to ten. “And what does that have to do with my problem? And why would you try to grow something like that?”

  “Hmm?” He turned another page. “Oh. The fungus doesn’t work on Skriven. Can’t take hold. But. It’s a powerful aphrodisiac.”

  I counted to twenty. “Vasili. Ellison?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Unless the Rider is messing with the connection to throw you off?” His lips were moving as if he were trying to memorize something, then he moved to his back wall where he kept his supplies. Realizing I wasn’t going to get any help from him and knowing if I stayed I’d wrap my hands around his throat, I decided to leave. But first. “I forbid you to grow that fungus. You hear me? I don’t want that shit buggering up my world or Midia.”

  He humphed. “I won’t let it anywhere near Earth or Midia. I just want a little something extra in my lovemaking arsenal.”

  “Buy some chocolate. No fungus. Understand?”

  He glared at me but nodded. I would have to take it as acquiescence. He knew what I’d do to him if he defied me anyway. I’d stick his ass on Earth in a human body and let him deal with the fungus the hard way if he disobeyed me.

  Hooking away, I arrived back in my home to a quiet house. I curled up on the couch with Cheeseweed and stared at the TV without really seeing it, trying to convince myself that it would all work out for the best. My Skriven would find Ellison and haul his ass to me. Then I’d kill him and—

  Shit.

  “Are you sure you want to die, Jasper?”

  I believe it will be for the best.

  “You could do a lot of good things for this world. And there are plenty of evil people whose souls could stand in for you. It wouldn’t have to be an innocent dying to pave the way for your freedom.”

  He was thinking—it was like a tickle in the back of my brain—but he didn’t speak again. Maybe he would reconsider. That’s all I could hope for, I supposed. I didn’t want him to die if he didn’t have to. He would be an asset to the world, no doubt. But only if he felt he had something to live for.

  I fixed dinner for the kids when they got home, enjoying my time with them, Jasper helping me touch my emotions, however faintly. We watched a movie together, the kids, Trav, and Arsinua too. Arsinua kept shooting sharp glances at me, as if I might start ripping people apart and finally I couldn’t stand it anymore. I sent the kids upstairs to bed and went to my own room. I spent a fruitless five minutes trying to find distraction in my TV and finally gave up. I remembered to slip the emiliometer into my pocket before I hooked to the Dreaming Caves.

  ***

  They were having another feast. Remembering the celebration of the hunt, a smile settled on my lips as I followed the sound of the drums. The villagers were dancing, all dressed in varying shades of yellow, orange, and red. They looked like a sunset in motion as dancers wove and twirled around each other, the beat of the drum as hypnotic as ever.

  Kroshtuka found me. His arms went around my waist and he pulled me close, kissing me deep in a way that curled my toes. He was wild and free and expansive, nothing like Ty’s shadows. I needed to remember that. Ty bad. Kroshtuka good. Sure, it was a simplification, but one my lust-addled brain could comprehend.

  “How are you feeling?” I asked when we finally pulled away from each other. Our lips, anyway. My body was still pressed tight against him and I could tell without any words that he was glad to see me.

  “Better. Still weak. I stayed out of the Rising dance.” We watched the movement for a while, the spiraling steps looking like a slowly undulating sun from where we stood. “How are you?”

  “Good.” Soulless. Sorta. “Well. Not good.” I wasn’t sure where the words were coming from, but they spilled out regardless. “Amara ambushed me and yanked my soul from my body. I did things, after, that I wouldn’t have done before. Hurt a man badly.” I swallowed. The guilt was faint but it was there, the soulless part of me—Neutria too, perhaps—dampening the worst of it. “I’m not sure I’m the same person I was. I’m not sure I’m a good person anymore.” He didn’t jump in to assuage my worries. Neither did he pat me on the head and say everything would be all right. He merely held me close. It eased me in a way his words wouldn’t have. “How come you’re so smart about these things?” I asked after while, after the stress had drained from my body.

  “I hoped that holding you would remind you that you are cared for. And then I felt the tension leaving your body, so I stayed silent. Not too smart. Intuitive, perhaps.”

  Like a good hunter, Neutria said in satisfaction.

  Right. ‘You just have the hots for my boyfriend,’ I retorted.

  She hissed at me but there was no heat in it. She didn’t want to annoy me. If she did, I might not be interested in letting her stay any longer—not that I knew how to get her out of me.

  “Whatever it is, I appreciate it. You aren’t ... repulsed by me?”

  “Why? Was it your fault you were attacked? That Amara ripped your soul from your body? That you were forced to change and adapt to survive? It’s what the People have always done. Sometimes it leads us down a dark path. Sometimes it leads us to the light. It isn’t what happens but how you deal with what happens.”

  I felt a hitch in my breath that I attributed to exhaustio
n. Or something. “Can you leave for a while?” I asked, needing him in a bad way. Or maybe a good way. I needed to be reminded of my humanity and goodness. We slipped away from the dancers worshiping life and did a little worshiping of our own. His hands on my body grounded me. My hands on his body reminded me of the warmth and beauty of life. We opened up to each other; our trembling, throaty cries mingling, harmonious. We weren’t after release, not really. We were searching for ourselves in each other, and from him I received a gift of his precious humanity. It spread me open, it lit me on fire. I gasped when his mouth touched my flesh, warm, wet, soft yet sharp with teeth. He groaned when my fingers gripped him, firm, coaxing. We wrapped around each other without words but spinning a tale of longing and dared I say it, love?

  The world didn’t shatter. The earth didn’t quake and yet something inside me shifted, something important, something I’d been missing since Amara ripped the essential part of me away. When we were done, I cried in his arms and he held me, whispering words of his People, words of power that twined around my cracked bits and filled them. I wasn’t fixed, but I was also no longer broken.

  I slept.

  SIXTEEN

  I woke in the middle of the night with Kroshtuka holding me. “Did you sleep?”

  He smiled. “For a while. How can I help?”

  I licked my lips. I wasn’t sure. So, instead of telling him what I needed—since I didn’t know—I told him what had happened, with Leon, with Ellison, with Tytan, with Amara. All of it. I didn’t keep anything from him despite my fear that if he heard some of it, the kiss with Ty, for instance, he would turn away from me. I couldn’t let the shadows get any bigger, for fear they would consume me.

  He thought a long time, stroking my hair, breathing. Strangely, I wasn’t afraid of his answers, of his condemnation. I didn’t think there would be any and more cracks inside me were filled.

  “Ellison is the one who killed the young woman, yes?”

  “Yes.”

  “I can have my people search for him. When they find him, I will contact you.”

  “How? If we Dream, the Rider might get back in. He might still be inside you, lurking.” My stomach clenched at the thought. “You and Liam. If I can’t find him by the full moon, I want to take you both to the goddess. She said she can purge you like she did for me.”

  “The goddess?”

  I’d forgotten. He’d been trapped by the Rider during the time I’d visited the goddess. I gave him the short story and his face held concern for the first time since I’d begun talking. “She is real.”

  “Yes.” I hesitated, then said, “And she holds Tytan’s soul. She wants me to return him to her. I’m not sure what will happen when I do, but I made her a promise.”

  “Our stories say she is insane.”

  I nodded. “I think anyone would be after what happened to her. She promised to tell me the whole story someday. I will listen, because stories are powerful and they can be healing.”

  “Yes. They can also gift pain and misery. Be careful with your generous heart, Devany.”

  I pulled a face. “I don’t feel so generously hearted right now. I feel dangerous.”

  When he grinned, warmth curled up from my belly. “It is good, then, that I like that about you. Come, let us dance together once more before you leave to be dangerous.”

  We weren’t gentle with each other this time. The urgency made us animals with claws and teeth. When we were done, we were wet with sweat. I kissed him again and he picked up the ring hanging around my neck. “When we find him, the ring will sing.”

  I stared down at the ring in his palm. “Like, ‘La, la, la?’ sing?”

  “Like an insistent hum of sound here.” He pressed his hand gently between my breasts.

  I kissed him once more and thanked him. “Be careful. Don’t Dream if you don’t have to. Ellison is cut off from the Source but he’s been around for thousands of years. Even without that power he’ll be wily.”

  “I am a hunter. I accept the risks with open eyes and knowledge of the dangers, though I understand where your concern comes from. ‘Be careful,’ can hold power, like a talisman. So I accept the gift of it.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Be careful, Devany.” He smiled. “Go. We shall both of us hunt and when the time comes, do what we must to survive.”

  I hugged him tight, then dressed and hooked back to my bedroom, where the sun was just peeping over the horizon. I showered, changed, went downstairs to make the kids breakfast when they got up for school. All the while my mind was on Kroshtuka. How incredibly together he was. If I didn’t accept the gift he was offering, I was a dumb ass indeed. A guy who accepted who I was without question. Who supported me?

  Should I pinch myself?

  Snickering, because idiotic thoughts warred with serious ones, I whipped up a batch of pancake batter, and added Kool-Aid to stain them blue, since we were out of all the red stuff. I hoped the kids wouldn’t mind a variation on an old theme.

  I wondered if they would like Kroshtuka?

  I shook myself, and concentrated on getting the pancakes cooked. My thoughts wandered to Dad, and I burned a couple, stinking up the kitchen until I got the fan over the stove turned on. Muttering, I stared at the pan with a ferocity that was probably unwarranted, but damn it, I didn’t want to have to mix up another batch of batter because I couldn’t concentrate.

  The kids came down, no more excited about having to go to school than yesterday. I fed them and sent them on their way, wondering what kind of schooling they could get in Odd Silver. That thought led to all sorts of complications, such as how to explain to Tom’s parents where I was taking their grandkids.

  I’d be Scarlet O’Hara and think about that tomorrow. I had other things to deal with.

  ***

  After seeing the kids onto the bus, I worked around the house, cleaning, straightening, washing laundry and folding. I checked Kroshtuka’s ring obsessively but it stayed silent. The phone rang though, and on the other end, Danni was crying.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “They found him.”

  I sat on the couch, my legs suddenly unable to hold me. “Oh.” I forced my brain to work. “Is he back in jail finally?”

  “No.” A sob. “He’s dead. They said he was beaten to death. Tortured. I think they suspect me, Devany.”

  Anger threaded through me. “They couldn’t possibly think you did that. You’ve been home all this time with Zech. There’s no way.”

  She sniffled. “Why would someone kill him like that?”

  Because he was an asshole who deserved every broken bone, every ripped piece of flesh. “I don’t know.”

  “They want me to come in today for questioning. They want to know if I did this to him.” Her voice changed and I heard the pure, unadulterated fury in it. “I suffered years of abuse from him. Why do people think that victims want revenge? If anything, I’d think victims would want justice. Not revenge. Because they know what it feels like to be hurt.” A staggered gasp of air, a swallow. “Would you go with me to the police station? Please?”

  “Of course. Do you want me to come pick you up?”

  “Yes. Otherwise I might turn tail and run away from this. How could they think that I—?” She didn’t go on, or maybe she couldn’t. Emotion rode her hard.

  “I’ll be there. Just let me know when.”

  “All right. Thank you, Devany.”

  As soon as we hung up, I hooked to the Slip, looking for Ty, needing to talk to him, to settle my thoughts about Harrison and what we’d done to him. He was outside, stripped to the waist, punching a heavy bag hanging from the porch. His scars from Ravana crisscrossed his flesh in livid reminder of her evil.

  “They found Harrison,” I said as I leaned against the house, watching his fists pummel the bag, his muscles jumping under his golden skin.

  He grunted but didn’t answer, the only sound his fists hitting the bag.

  “I’m going with Danni t
o talk to the police. They want to ask her some questions.”

  Still no reply.

  “Tytan.”

  He paused, hugging the bag with one arm to stop its swing. “What do you want me to say, Devany? You want me to comfort you, tell you everything will be okay?” He smiled tightly and let go of the bag. “Perhaps you should go visit your hyena man.”

  Dear lord. “I did that already.”

  “Ah. And he didn’t satisfy you?”

  “He helped me find myself again.”

  “Good for him.” He hit the bag so hard it swung out almost parallel to the ground.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, not knowing why I was apologizing, exactly. He didn’t answer and I wasn’t sure what to make of Mr. Crankypants. “I can’t be what you want me to be. I can’t be a stone cold killer.” A dark part of me disagreed, but I pushed the thought away. “I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t want you hurting me, either.”

  “I would never hurt you.”

  The emotion in his voice rocked me back a step or two. Emotion? “You don’t have a soul, Ty.”

  “I didn’t have a soul when I saved your life, still snugged warmly in your mother’s womb.” He turned on me. “I didn’t have a soul when I kept my mouth shut for centuries while Ravana did her damnedest to flay me alive for hiding you.” And then he was only inches away from me when he said, “And I didn’t have a soul when I kept her from killing you only months ago. Do you understand? We are connected, you and I, whether you like it or not.”

  I never said I didn’t like it, I thought, then remembered he could read my mind again, now that Jasper wasn’t keeping him from it. “I can’t. If I say yes to you, I turn my back on all the bad things you’ve done. Look what we did together. We killed two human beings.”