Demon Retribution (Shadow Quest Book 3)

by Kiersten Fay

  No, I can’t think like that.

  He was strong. Had survived her twice now. And, somewhere deep down, she felt he would survive anything she could throw at him. But, would he be disappointed if she made no progress? She went back to the task.

  Hmm, she thought. What did it feel like just before the firestorm? Frightening, for sure, but she couldn’t think past that. There must be something else. It couldn’t be just a fear based magic, because there had been plenty of times were she’d been afraid and hadn’t been brought to self-destruct.

  Most of those memories were buried deep, far from where they could hurt her. Over the years, she’d taken on a sort of live-in-the-now attitude—coupled with a healthy dose of caution, of course—and had developed a talent for brushing off bad situations, locking them away. Now she gave herself permission to open the safe and take a long, hard look back.

  About seventy years after her arrival on earth, she’d moved to a small town in England. Being new to the area, she set out to integrate herself into society, hoping to remain there for ten years or more. By that time, she’d become somewhat of an expert at using vagueness to answer questions and directing conversations away from herself. But, at a particular gathering, she’d been a little careless with her ears, and someone had caught a glimpse. Next thing she knew, she was racing through a dark forest to get away from a hysterical lynch mob. She wasn’t as good at running then, what with the silly shoes and bulky gowns, and eventually they caught up with her. She had learned a little about defense—enough, at least, to get them to let her go and think twice about following her again. Her gift wasn’t needed then, though she had been frightened out of her mind.

  No. It couldn’t be fear that fueled the fire. Although, as soon as she concluded the point, another memory surfaced: the first time she’d ever used her magic. It had been shortly after landing somewhere in a rainforest—a location that managed to elude her all these years.

  Curious about her new world, she’d left her shuttle to explore. It wasn’t long before she was captured. Later, she decided the trajectory of the craft must have drawn interest. Although, it could have just been wrong place, wrong time.

  She’d been taken aboard a large boat that set sail across the sea. The males who held her captive, most of them lightly tanned with dark hair, spoke a language she hadn’t been able to understand at the time. To this day she couldn’t identify it.

  After a few weeks, her seasickness abated, and some of the crew began to sneak below deck where she was chained, just to get a look at her—at first, anyway. Over time, some grew bolder and wanted to touch her hair, her skin.

  Her mind cringed, but she forced herself to remember.

  They were obviously wary of her in the beginning, and because of that she’d thought they might leave her be, but she—or rather they—weren’t that lucky.

  One night, a few had come down in a group, their intentions clear. Instinctively, she recognized the danger, and her pulse had gone into overdrive. She was trapped, chained. She tried to kick, but they hadn’t been feeding her well and she was weak. Someone grabbed her ankle, then the other. They pulled at her clothing. A hand came over her chest.

  And that’s when it happened.

  Something from inside tore free, ripping its way out. She screamed as it burned in her veins, fueled by her blood, consuming and destructive. She recalled the screams, both hers and theirs.

  A gentle hand clamped over her shoulder, and she jumped. Cale’s voice calmed her. “I think we should take a break.”

  She lifted her head to see him looking at her with concern. Her knees had come up to her chest, and her arms had wrapped around them. As she curled into herself, she shook. “I guess that didn’t work out so well.”

  Cale turned optimistic. “We don’t know that yet. Do you want to talk about it?”

  She hesitated for a moment, but was no longer ashamed of what she’d done to survive. Mustering a steady voice, she retold the story of her introduction to planet Earth. It wasn’t until she’d finished that she noticed how rigid Cale had become. She took in his features and thought she saw a tight restraint in the outline of his jaw. He stood and walked away, stopping with one arm against the same tree he’d been sitting by. She watched him, confused by his reaction.

  Finally, he said, “Okay,” as he scrubbed a hand over his face. “Alright.” Another tense moment. “But they didn’t hurt you?”

  “No. I got away. I must have destroyed half the ship, although I hadn’t realized what I’d done for some time after that. I’d managed to pull myself onto a bit of ship debris before I lost consciousness…Are you okay?”

  He took a breath. When he turned back around, his face looked composed, but she sensed an underlying turmoil. “Of course.”

  “Did you just go all edgy?”

  He gave her a crooked smile, but did not respond. She had her answer. “You didn’t need to turn away, you know.”

  “It tends to upset people, or so I’ve noticed.”

  “But you’re one of those trained, in control demons, right?”

  “I am.”

  “Well, now that I know more about it, it won’t scare me again.”

  His features brightened triumphantly. “Ha! So you were frightened?”

  “No!” she rescinded. He just grinned at her, and she rolled her eyes. “Shouldn’t we get back to the big, bad tree stump?”

  Head tilting to the sky, he said, “I think I should make sure you’re fed first.”

  She followed his line of sight and caught the position of the sun. It was already midday. He offered his hand to help her up, and she took it without thinking.

  In the cabin, Zoey lounged on the couch with a book, while music played in the background. As soon as they entered she asked, “How did it go?”

  Kyra scrunched up her face.

  “That good, huh?”

  “She did very well,” Cale replied. “Nothing exploded in my face, so I’d call that a positive training session.”

  “Nothing happened at all,” Kyra grumbled.

  Cale shook his head. “Not true. You’ve uncovered a memory that caused a shift in your emotions. That’s a good step in understanding yourself, and later, using the strength of that shift without the emotional connection.”

  “Ooh, how very Zen.” Zoey slapped her hands together in a prayer pose and then dipped her head.

  Kyra snorted. “Zo, I think you just did half Namaste, half I Dream of Jeannie.”

  Zoey then crossed her arms in front of her torso and joked, “As you wish, master.”

  Kyra hiked her thumb at Cale. “He’s the master, not me.”

  Cale replied, “I may be in control, but I’ve mastered nothing.” He’d said it in such a casual and even tone that both girls broke out in a fit of laughter, which grew worse when he stared at them like they were nuts.

  Lunch was quick, and they spent the second half of the evening working on Kyra’s magic.

  Cale never once showed that he was growing impatient with her, even while she became frustrated with herself. She thought that at one point, when the light was just about to fade, that she had managed a tiny burst of energy, but it could have easily been the wind. After that, they decided to call it a night.

  He helped her to her feet, but kept hold of her hand a little longer than was necessary. As she took in his expression, her breath caught. He looked as if he might kiss her again.

  A blaze of heat drove through her, spurred by her rushing blood, yet she shivered, frozen in place while looking up at him. She waited to see what he would do.

  Blue eyes bore into hers, swirling with an emotion she couldn’t describe. Then his gaze dipped to her lips. Her tongue involuntarily darted out to wet them, but he only continued to stare, searching her face as if seeking the solution to some hidden puzzle. When a bit of confusion crept over him, she tilted her head quizzically.

  Finally, he pulled away from her without an explanation.

  She wasn�
�t sure if she was disappointed or relieved. As she started making her way to the house, she thought that disappointment was tipping the scale.

  Chapter 13

  The next few days passed with much of Kyra’s time spent in the small clearing with Cale, while she mentally fast-forwarded through her history. She was careful not to let any of the memories overtake her again and began to look back with an unattached, observant mind.

  With the recalling of each episode, she felt she made some progress, if only a little, but that was better than nothing.

  Cale never betrayed any desires—if he even had any—of wanting to kiss her again, and eventually they delved into a lax teacher-student role.

  Occasionally, when she started to get flustered, she would stop and ask him about the Edge, mostly curious about how he’d learned to control it. The majority of his answers were vague, but indicated that he had clocked a lot more time on the Edge than most others would have ever wished to, though he refused to go into further detail.

  This morning resembled any other. Cale leaned against a tree, offering scraps of advice every now and again, and being extraordinarily patient. She’d been concentrating for hours. Again, the wind played tricks on her, stirring at just the right moment and getting her hopes up. She now glared at the tree stump as if it were the bane of her existence. A dark part of her craved its absolute destruction with a seething hatred. She pictured it shredded, in flames, nothing left but jagged, singed toothpicks.

  At the thought, a sick satisfaction coated her, filling her with malevolence and forcing her lips to spread into a vicious grin as the creature inside her stirred, rumbling with bloodlust.

  A dull sound licked the inner walls of her brain. A handsome voice called her name in a gentle, nonthreatening manner. It was enough to break through the creepy veil that had overrun her mind.

  She let out a harsh breath that felt too hot and pushed the magic back into place. Her skin tingled as a warm fever dissipated over her skin and a light sheen of sweat sucked up the cool morning air, helping to extinguish the last of the heat.

  Sighing, she looked up at Cale, expecting disappointment. He crouched on his haunches in front of her looking…happy.

  “Why are you smiling? I could have blown this place to smithereens.”

  “But you didn’t, did you?”

  She cocked her head and replied, amazed, “No. I didn’t. I stopped it when I heard you.”

  “Tell me what was going through your head.”

  With a quick summarization, she relayed the direction her mind had taken. “It seemed to have run away with me pretty quickly.”

  “That’s great.”

  “Great? I have a gift that is born of fear and hatred. That’s awful. I’m like Darth Vader.”

  “Who?”

  “He’s this guy who goes to the dark side…Doesn’t really matter.” She waved her hand. “The point is, what I felt just now…felt a little bit evil.”

  He gave her a sly look. “Should I be afraid of you then?”

  “Says the big, scary demon.”

  He sat down next to her, and though more than a few inches away, she felt his body heat. His masculine scent soon followed, and she inhaled it with as much discretion as she could muster. He had a very earthy smell, which was odd, him being from another planet and all.

  Oblivious to her musings, he said, “It could be that you’ve conditioned yourself to associate your magic with things like hate, desperation, and death—since you’ve otherwise managed to bury it.”

  She took a moment to contemplate that. He had a point.

  Still, a part of her feared the strange, rapacious…thing living inside her. That’s the crux of it, she thought. Her magic felt apart from her. Like some unwanted growth.

  A monster, neither obedient nor tame.

  Cale carried on. “And I say it’s great because you managed to invoke your gift without any real outside threat to you, and then intentionally dialed it back.”

  “Hmm.” She smiled sideways at him, taking in his positive outlook. “You’re a pretty good teacher.”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  “And there goes the ego.” She laughed.

  He gave her a lopsided smile filled with ease, and they fell into a comfortable silence. She listened to the sound of the wind rustling through the gold, red, and yellow leaves, feeling her body return to normal.

  It wasn’t long before her mind began to drift back to the playful demon beside her. An odd awareness came over her, fueled by his close proximity. And suddenly she had to fight back the memories of how warm and soft his lips were, how carnal his touch felt.

  She’d been trying to deny it, but the last few days were a kind of erotic torture for her. Everything from his enticing musk, to his deep masculine laugh, to watching him walk around in just a pair of jeans drove her hormones bonkers.

  In the midst of lunch today, she’d nearly climaxed while watching him simply suck a bit of sauce from his fingers. And when those clear blue eyes had shot to hers in a way that made her imagine he could read her thoughts, she’d flushed and escaped to her room until she could rein in her lust.

  Now it was running amok again.

  She assessed him from the corner of her eye. The simple black tee hid the defined muscular planes of his chest, a powerful set of shoulders, and a six-pack that was utterly lick-worthy.

  She shuddered and tried to clear her head.

  She was about to suggest they get back to work when he spoke in a rough tone. “Woman, you are killing me.”

  “What?”

  “You think I cannot sense the need coursing through you. It’s driving me mad.”

  “I…What do you mean you can sense my need?” she asked, although she had a pretty good idea what he meant. The dragons were keen to the slightest of bodily changes. Demons must be as well. Her stomach clenched as she realized how aroused she had become.

  “Do you not realize how hard it is to keep my hands off you,” he said, frustration seeping into his words, “when you strut around me, tempting me with everything you have, yet hardly looking my way?”

  Tempting him?

  Part of her had assumed her rejection had turned him off completely, and that he no longer wanted her that way. Had he merely been giving her distance? Waiting for her to initiate? “I didn’t know.”

  “Aye, I gathered.” He ran his hands through his light hair and rested his elbows on bent knees.

  “You should have said something before. I’m not used to making the first move.”

  His head shot up in surprise, and she bit back a grin. She took advantage of his stunned expression and moved to straddle his lap. His legs cooperated, adjusting for her. Strong hands clasped her waist, and she felt him add pressure as if to hold her in place. His expression turned ravenous while he studied her with a mix of amusement and confusion.

  She leaned in, and their lips met. Soft, smooth, unrelenting. Just as she remembered. A sigh escaped her, and she settled closer, wrapping her arms around his neck.

  The kiss was slow at first—sensual—just a brushing of their mouths, a quick nip, and a bit of teasing. Then his tongue swiped out, and she eagerly met it with hers. Desire curled within as her fingers trailed along his scalp. Strands of silky hair tickled the crevasses of her fingers. She realized she could become addicted to that act alone. He groaned as if in agreement.

  The urgency increased when his knees came up behind her, trapping her hard against his torso. His hands traveled over her jean clad thighs, making their way around to grasp her backside. She moaned and moved her hips. When a hungry sound rumbled out of him, she did it again.

  He tugged desperately at the hem of her shirt, pulling it up and off her. In that expert way, his lips moved over her jawline and down her neck. She undulated her hips again, feeling his stiff erection at her core.

  Utilizing his bent legs as a brace, she leaned back and let her head loll as he trailed a hot path down her throat to her chest, licking and kiss
ing the tops of her breasts while his hands continued to explore the rest of her exposed flesh.

  Heat gathered between her legs, and she let out another soft needy moan, grinding against his lap. A guttural sound left him, and suddenly her back met the leafy ground, her legs cradling his strong frame. He claimed her lips hard, demanding rather than asking for entry, and their tongues danced a primal ballet.

  Passion swirled in her head. Her heart pounded, forcing her to gasp for air. She reached for the zipper of his pants and found a belt in the way. Frantic, she tugged at it.

  A small beeping sound intruded her thoughts. Overcome with desire, she resigned to ignore it, but it repeated in a loud, high-pitched rhythm, pounding at her like a hammer.

  “What is that?” she panted.

  “Fuck it. It’s nothing. Just my communicator.” He shifted to nuzzle her breast, freeing one taut peak from the silky fabric and taking it in his mouth.

  She groaned with relish and arched her back, but the beeping continued to niggle. “Communicator? You mean from your ship?” He grunted in answer and then moved to take her lips again, as if to shut her up. She mumbled around his kisses, “You should answer it.”

  “They’ll initiate contact again,” he growled, and then, in an almost desperate attempt, swept his tongue to the spot on her neck that shot a bolt of heat straight to her sex.

  In was one hell of a masterful distraction, and he nearly succeeded. She really, really didn’t want him to stop…but, sucking in air, she struggled for coherent thought. “Cale!”

  With another growl, he pulled back and reached in his pocket. A thin black box, smaller than a standard phone, filled his palm. He clicked a button and then began speaking in a common space language that Kyra had learned as a child. She hadn’t spoken it in years, and was surprised she still understood it. “A little busy here.”

  “Cale?” a male’s voice answered, “Is everything alright?”

  “It was about a second ago!”

  Pause.

  “We’re on our way to Earth now. Are you safe? Have you located Kyra?”