Demon Retribution (Shadow Quest Book 3)

by Kiersten Fay

For the next few days, Kyra and Zoey worked to become acquainted with their new surroundings. Marada was large, to say the least, and full of amenities as if it were meant as some kind of luxury ocean liner rather than a battle ship.

  Sonya explained that she and her bothers had stolen it from a Kayadon noble in order to escape the devastation of their home planet. Sonya also added, with her chin up, that they wouldn’t have run like cowards if their mother and Cale’s mate hadn’t conspired against them, slipping the boys a drug that rendered them too weak to fight.

  Kyra seized on the part about “Cale’s mate,” hardly hearing anything after. Anya and Nadua were educating her on the significance of the mate bond. It was considered sacred to the demons and thought to be unbreakable.

  Once a demon mated, it was for life.

  Kyra swallowed hard and asked if their mates might take a mistress, for whatever reason. Not that she was signing up to be one. The answer was an emphatic “no,” demonstrated by Nadua pulling out a thin dagger and stating that she would cut off a certain demon’s member if that were so.

  Sonya had nodded in agreement, as if that were a normal reaction for someone to have at a simple question.

  Aside from noting how vastly Nadua had changed, Kyra wondered, then, why had Cale made love to her if he was mated to someone else?

  The answer became clear, however, as Sonya described the depth of Velicia’s betrayal, and again later, when gossip about Cale’s exploits started flooding in. He was a favorite topic amongst the female crew. From the stories, Kyra gathered he was a damn man-whore!

  Not that she hadn’t known that on some level, but to be surrounded by—

  Hell, she could hardly walk around without imagining him with every woman she passed in a hall, or if he was currently holed up in some floozy’s room—kissing someone else with the same passion he’d shown her. It pained her to think of it.

  Since their first night, she’d run into him only a handful of instances, each time engaging in awkward small talk. The conversations went something like:

  “How are you getting along?”

  “Very well, thanks.”

  Afterward, he’d nod and walk on, and she would do the same with her throat a bit tighter than before.

  In her little sister, Anya, she was finding a vast amount of inspiration. Their individual gifts were not exactly the same, but a theory had formed that their magic may work on the same principle: energy. But where Anya could read people’s energy, control it, and even supply it through blood magic, Kyra used energy to affect—or possibly just destroy—her immediate surroundings.

  They’d also determined that it wouldn’t be wise for Kyra to attempt to harness her gift while on the ship. Though, with each of Anya’s demonstrations, she wanted more and more to try. She felt she’d been making progress back home on Earth.

  However, Anya was nothing less than amazing when it came to her powers. With enough concentration, she could gather energy to her and force it out of her like a blast. Almost exactly what Kyra experienced, only on a smaller, and more controlled, level.

  Much more controlled.

  Nadua’s gift was somewhat like their father’s, only her visions weren’t limited to the future. At times she could see the past as well. The drawback was that she had to come into contact with someone in order for a vision to manifest. With Anya’s help, they’d been working on breaking those boundaries.

  “Have you had a vision of me yet?” Kyra had asked Nadua, remembering their tight-hug reunion. Nadua’s face had become strange as she nodded, and Kyra frowned when Nadua revealed it had been one of the first times she’d been forced to use her gift.

  It was obvious Nadua didn’t like getting visions of everyone’s past, saying that they were of no use to her and she didn’t need to see all the horrors of someone’s life. Then in a low voice she’d added cryptically that she never touched Anya if she didn’t have to.

  Oh, Kyra didn’t even want to know what that meant.

  Zoey was getting along nicely. Probably better than Kyra. She’d quickly become comfortable walking the ship alone, usually to the salon or to one of the recreation rooms.

  Kyra suspected that Zo hoped to run into Rex. Kyra had yet to catch the two of them together, but one evening Zo had entered their room with a smile that could rival the brightness of the sun, yet refused to comment on her happy mood. She’d only plopped onto a cushy chair situated by the window and gazed out at the stars, looking pleased.

  Today, she and Zoey introduced themselves to the Serakian witchling named Portia, who bunked but a few doors from them. She was petite as could be, small and thin like a pixie with spiky black hair and deceptively sweet features. But boy, there was power in that little package. Kyra could feel it. Even Zoey had sensed something.

  They learned that Portia had been dispatched to perform a pretty serious spell to eradicate Nadua and Marik’s mate bond.

  Kyra wondered aloud, “Why would they send a witch in training for such an important spell?”

  The witch shrugged and replied, “Perhaps they knew it was impossible to achieve. Those smug cocksuckers love to see me fail.”

  “Witch in training?” Zoey asked after Kyra had translated a bit of their conversation.

  Kyra elaborated, saying, “That’s what witchling means.”

  Then, out of the blue, Portia leaned forward and openly sniffed Zoey. “That’s strange,” she said. “You don’t smell like a vampire.”

  Zoey leaned back, not understanding. “Did she just sniff me?” Then Zo stuck her nose in her armpit before asking, “What did she say?”

  Portia huffed with irritation. “Oh, this translating crap is going to get old.” She uttered a few dark words, her eyes flashing white.

  Kyra stepped back, feeling power grow. Before she could react, the witch reached out and placed the bud of her index finger on Zoey’s third eye, finishing the spell with a jolt.

  Zoey stumbled backward and slapped her hand over her forehead, breathing heavily. “Holy mother of hell! What did you do?”

  “Now you can understand me,” Portia said sweetly.

  Zoey’s mouth dropped open, as did Kyra’s, and then Portia bid them good evening without much more explanation and disappeared into her room.

  “You okay?” Kyra asked, helping Zoey keep steady on her feet.

  “Yeah, just a little dizzy. That was weird.”

  Kyra agreed, but didn’t say anything. In the morning, she’d inform Portia to ask before throwing spells around.

  Returning to their compartment, Kyra watched Zoey closely for indications of side effects. Luckily, there didn’t seem to be any. Zoey sat on the couch, working a puzzle that someone had lent her, and after a while Kyra relaxed, flipping through the massive book that Ethan had delivered to her room.

  It was heavy as a brick and twice as thick. Intricate gold patterns laced around the dark, leather-like binding, and a thin flap wrapped to the front, acting as the lock. When she’d peeled it open, it felt no more difficult as separating two magnets, but for others it would seem as though nothing would pry it free.

  Blessed Serakian magic.

  Most of the writing resembled nothing more than gibberish. Ethanule had been able to translate much of it, but for some reason, not all—a fact that clearly frustrated him, evident by the tone in which he confessed.

  Kyra recognized some drawings of Kayadon—tight bony skin, eyes like splintered eggshells—as well as a few sketches of what was now referred to as hellhounds, at least by Zoey and herself. The creatures looked terrifying, even on paper.

  She fumbled back and forth through the pages, hoping to find something useful, but what? She didn’t know.

  Zoey studied a puzzle piece at eye level, trapped between her thumb and forefinger. She set it down on the table and fell back on the chair with palpable boredom.

  “You wanna go to the pub or something?” Kyra offered.

  Zoey perked up. “Sure.”

  Kyra chuckled. “
No need to twist your arm, I guess.”

  The music droned a soft beat tonight in the pub. A few tables were free, but she and Zoey chose to sit at the bar where they greeted Sonya, who had been taking on shifts due to complaints about Jade’s service.

  “The usual?” the demon asked, having memorized their favorite drinks.

  Kyra nodded, but Zoey asked, “You got anything with bite?”

  Kyra had to laugh, thinking that wasn’t the best thing to ask when in the company of demons. She was about to voice her musings when she realized Zoey had answered Sonya without the need for translation. Sonya too scrutinized Zoey, as if seeing her for the first time. Then her incredulous violet eyes shot to Kyra, growing thin with suspicion.

  Kyra’s features contorted quizzically. “What’s the matter?”

  “Has someone been teaching you guys Demonish?”

  “No. Why?”

  She glanced back at Zoey. “Ask her who taught her to say that.”

  “No need,” Zoey replied. “I understood you perfectly, and no one taught me to say anything in…whatever it is you called it.”

  “Stop fucking with me. You’re speaking it right now.”

  Kyra shook her head. “No, she’s speaking English.”

  The demons eyes narrowed dangerously. “No, she’s not.”

  Kyra and Zoey exchanged confused looks.

  “Ethan!” Sonya called to the back room.

  He emerged a few moments later and smiled when he caught sight of them. “Ladies.”

  Sonya gave them no time to reply. “Ethan, do you speak any Demonish?”

  “A little bit. Why?”

  Pinning Zoey with a look, she ordered, “Speak, girl.”

  “What am I, a dog?”

  Instead of responding, Sonya faced Ethan expectantly. “Well? Did you understand what she said?”

  Now it was Ethan’s turn to look suspicious. “Well, yeah, but that’s because she’s speaking Denaloid. For what possible reason would you have to learn that language?”

  Zoey looked lost. “It’s English. You’re all speaking it.”

  Realization hit Kyra, and she muttered, “I think we should ask Portia about that spell she put on you. I suspect when you speak, people will hear it in their most common language. In turn, you’ll hear them in yours.”

  “The Serakian, huh?” Ethan smiled. “Well, that’s convenient.”

  Kyra thought so as well. That is, until Rex appeared sometime later, long after everyone’s astonishment wore off.

  This time when Zoey said hi to him, he did a double take. Not too long afterward, Kyra was all but forgotten as the two fell into conversation. She tried to listen in at first, but soon grew bored with the blatant flirting.

  It was kind of an unspoken rule that Kyra was now responsible for Zoey, but Zo was an adult, and if she wanted the demon, then so be it. Nadua might vouch for Rex, but if he did anything to harm Zoey, Kyra would go Bronx on his ass.

  Turning on the stool, she leaned back against the bar, taking in the crowd. Many different races made up the crew. Some she recognized. Others not so much. She mused that Marada had at least one thing in common with New York. It was like a melting pot of cultures. She wondered if that was why she felt so comfortable here. Or maybe it was that she no longer had to hide what she was.

  She tucked her hair behind her ears and reveled in the crowd’s lack of interest. Her exuberance faded when a familiar face caught the corner of her eye. She swiveled her body, facing the bar so fast that her head spun.

  Zoey noticed him too, and called out, “Cale! Guess what?”

  Sneaking a sidewise glance, she nearly laughed at Cale’s confusion at hearing Zo. A man she hadn’t met before was with him. He looked a little gruff with his tan skin, dark eyes, and short brown hair. In the time it took them to approach, Kyra lifted her chin and took a few calming breaths. Why did the thought of seeing Cale now give her such anxiety? Sonya offered her a look filled with a hint of pity.

  That’s right. I’m just one of many.

  Zoey had the pleasure of teasing Cale a bit, not giving in when he demanded to know how it was she could suddenly speak his native language.

  “It wasn’t me,” Sonya said when he gave her an accusatory look. “I thought you were the one who taught her.”

  Cale took on the cutest perturbed expression, and Zo folded like a cheap suit. Kyra shook her head, not wanting to admit that look would have worked just as easily on her. Damn him.

  “Cale,” Kyra said, trying to prove she could be just as indifferent. “Any news from the dragons?”

  “Actually, that’s why we’re here,” he replied. “Aidan wanted to meet you.”

  She turned to the dark haired male. “Oh, you’re the dragonshifter from Kanisae.”

  “Yes. It’s an honor make your acquaintance.”

  “Your accent is nothing like the dragons of Legura,” she observed.

  “You’d be surprised at how dissimilar our people are.”

  “It’s not that surprising, considering Legura and Kanisae are completely different planets. On Earth, there are so many different cultures. Some like night and day.”

  “I heard a little bit about that from Cale.” He smiled. “I also hear you’re pretty powerful.”

  She shot a bemused look at Cale. “I wouldn’t say that, exactly.”

  “Disintegrating a group of Kayadon sounds powerful to me. Or is Cale making up stories again?”

  “No, that happened. I didn’t really mean to, though. It just sort of happened. I suppose if I could control it, I’d agree.”

  “Well, Cale thinks you’re the key to this whole thing.”

  Again she glanced at Cale with surprise. “You do?”

  Cale shrugged. “From what I’ve seen? Makes sense. Nadua sees visions. Helpful for insight, but not combat. Anya can read energies. She’d make a good sentinel. But your gift seems geared for destruction.”

  Destruction?

  She pictured everything around her burning, a sight seen more than once. Yet when she imagined her home planet in flames, she had to bite back a sickly feeling. She hadn’t considered fully till now that they were going to battle the Kayadon. She was going to have to go to war with a gift that was precarious at best. What if it failed her when she needed it most?

  She swallowed. “Wars don’t always need to be won through brute force.”

  Both Cale and Aidan snorted. Even Sonya made a sound of amusement as though she were being silly.

  Cale commented, “How else do you expect to win? The Kayadon are a violent race. They’ll only respond to brute force.” Then he said with complete confidence, “Once you’ve mastered your gift, those bastards are ash.”

  “So, you figure that I’m just a walking bomb?” She couldn’t keep the hurt out of her voice, although, hadn’t she thought of herself that way all these years?

  Cale raked his hand over the back of his neck, sensing he’d offended her.

  Aidan quickly changed the subject. “I’ve sent a message to the dragon clans regarding the situation.”

  “Have they responded?”

  “So far I’ve only received a transmission from the Okora clan of Legura. They want to meet with Kyra before they agree to provide aid.”

  “Okora?” Zoey interjected. “Ky, isn’t that your last name?”

  Kyra blushed furiously. “I, uh, cycled through names on Earth. Okora was one of the ones I liked to use every now and again.” Discreetly, she checked to see if Cale noticed her flush. His face remained blank, uninterested. It hit her then that she was seriously crushing on Cale, and he in no way reciprocated her feelings.

  In an attempt to patch up her ego, she reminded herself he had a mate. Then, after deciding to bury her feelings for him once and for all, she moved the conversation in another direction. “Tell me, Aidan, how else are the dragons of Kanisae different from Legura?”

  “Do you know much about either?” he asked.

  “I know they are within
the same solar system. And I spent some time with the Okora clan when I was younger.”

  “Yes, I recall hearing news of that.”

  “You did?”

  “A Faieara princess visiting the Okora princes?” He smirked. “We assumed a match was eminent.”

  She repressed a sigh. If the Kayadon hadn’t attacked, it most likely would have been.

  “Well, to answer your question,” Aidan continued, “the dragons of Kanisae are a little leaner, darker in color. In our dragon form, we are almost all black or dark green. The Legura are brighter, for some reason, with more range of color. They’re a bit bigger as well.” He gave her a sly look. “But we’re faster.”

  She snickered at his show of pride, but all humor left her as she considered her next question. She knew she shouldn’t ask, but curiosity was eating at her. “May I ask why you were exiled?”

  As Aidan frowned at the Faieara’s question, Sonya focused on Cale. He’d gone tense and was avoiding direct eye contact with everybody.

  Probably no one had caught the changes, but Sonya knew him as she knew herself. He didn’t like hearing Kyra had taken the dragon’s name. But what was it to him? Was there something else going on between the two? Obviously they’d been intimate—no surprise there—but Sonya couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something more.

  She pretended to clean the counter as she watched the scene play out.

  Aidan exhaled a slow breath. “The short version is my clan demanded I compete in Phase Nine…after I had already declared that I would not race. When I refused to yield, I was cast out.”

  “What’s Phase Nine?” Zoey asked.

  Aidan answered, “It’s a universal competition that spans the corners of space. All races are welcome to enter. Winners receive of any number of things, such as wealth or rare items, but mostly it’s about honor. However, it’s notoriously vicious. Those brave enough to enter know they may not survive to the end.”

  Kyra cocked her head. “Why would they demand you race?”

  He shrugged. “Because I’d won it before.”

  Sonya could guess what the next question might be and she wanted to save Aidan from having to endure it. Before Kyra could open her mouth, she asked, “So, when are we to meet with the dragons?”