The Demon Within (A PeaceKeeper Novel)

by Stacey Brutger

Nothing.

  “Damn.” Ruman was a demon. She couldn’t forget that fact, no matter how much her body said otherwise. The bastard was still around, she could sense him.

  Teeth clenched, Caly unbuckled her sheath and palmed the knife, her fingers falling easily within the worn grooves. She held the blade flat along her forearm.

  Resting on the balls of her feet, Caly crept silently through the house with as much stealth as possible without relying on her demonic skills. Although the others still argued in the kitchen, the rest of the house remained dead quiet.

  Wincing at her own choice of words, she took a breath then twisted the knob to the study. The familiar, musty odor of books spilled into the hallway. Nothing but the shadowy shapes of the furniture filled the room. She detected no movement, but instinct told her to stay.

  Crouched low, she entered the room, secured the door behind her and settled in to wait. Patience was the key in most assault maneuvers. After fifteen minutes, her muscles trembled under the strain. Intuition warned her to wait for him to move first.

  “If you’re going to kill me, would you mind doing it before morning? I have plans later.” While the words stung her pride, his sardonic tone burned into her chest like acid.

  Unable to locate him, Caly tightened her hold and brought up her weapon, flipping it around as her gaze darted about the room. “You sound like you want me to.”

  A form emerged from the darkness, shadows shifting when he shrugged. “Better for you to get it over with now, isn’t it?” He crouched in front of her, his rugged face a shade too pale. His eyes, dark and shiny, reflected her image back to her. Nothing about the man on the hillside remained, and her heart mourned the loss.

  “Deep down in your gut, you feel the urge to bury that knife in my chest. Common sense tells you to do it, get it over with before it’s too late.” He placed a hand on the floor, leaned forward and lowered his voice. “I’m a demon. You know you’ll have to do it eventually. Why draw it out?” Ruman tilted his head and offered her a clean shot. “You’ve spent your whole life training to kill me.”

  The cadence of his words seduced her. He settled on his knees, body totally relaxed, his hands on top of his thighs. “Do it.”

  A quiver went through her muscles as she resisted the compulsion woven in his voice. Her grip locked tight, her fingers numb. “Knock it off. We have more important things to discuss than when you’ll die.”

  An eyebrow shot up, his gaze dropped to her hand but the small smile that curled the corner of his mouth made her heart stutter then race. To avoid examining her reaction to that smile, Caly sheathed the blade with a heavy sigh. “Better?”

  She stood and looked down at him. Desire sank its claws into her and refused to relent. To distract herself from the seductive, dangerous picture he created, she reached over and snapped on the desk lamp before she did something stupid like touch him. The circle of light illuminated only a small area. She turned then pulled up short.

  The man kneeling at her feet took her breath away. Tanned skin, dark hair that begged for her touch and eyes that haunted her sleep. Slowly, careful to keep his gaze on hers, he rose.

  An aura of power surrounded him, reaching to curl around her, compelling her to touch him in a way she found hard to fight.

  Wasn’t sure she wanted to fight.

  A shudder raked her shoulders. She clenched her eyes shut and swallowed painfully. Demon, angel or not, he had the same urges of a man. She saw passion in his eyes when he thought no one was looking. Against her will, he called out the same dark hunger in her.

  “Tell me what I need to know to keep my group safe.” Caly forced the words past her constricted throat.

  A rusty chuckle escaped him. The caustic sound scraped against the inside of her skull, rattling her composure like nothing else could. The seductive spell around them shattered. Caly tightened her lips to prevent herself from snapping and breaking their unsteady truce by carving out the black lump of coal in his chest he used for a heart.

  “I have no leads. No clues. Because I’m temporarily a demon, you think I have answers.” He whirled away, and scratched his scalp in irritation. “Well, I don’t. I saw the same horror as everyone else. The answer I gave was the same conclusion you drew but were too fearful to say.”

  His restless energy swamped the room, echoing inside her. It took more willpower than it should’ve to stand her ground. She refused to flee or even worse, go to him and apologize. He was a demon, and it was better neither of them forgot it.

  “We need to devise a plan if we want to get out alive.” Caly waited for him to turn before she volleyed her question at him. “What do you know of the temple?”

  “Only what you told the others. The temple was standing long before I came to the area, and I never had a chance to explore it before…”

  Caly sensed his hesitation and spoke bluntly. “Before the curse claimed you?” It seemed the politest way to say it.

  His gaze snapped to hers. The probing look bore into her, testing for the truth, questioning whether he could trust her. He gave a curt nod.

  “Here.” She didn’t know why she took this risk, but something had to bend between them before one of them broke.

  Caly reached overhead and removed a panel above the doorway. A thick, ancient chain link snaked out. She palmed the light switch and carefully removed the rest of the prize. Caly handed over the medallion then put space between them, needing the distance to think rationally. “Maybe this will help.”

  “Where did you get this?” The question was whispered on a breath of air, the tone husky and reverent. Resting in his palm lay the gold circle. Even from across the room, the color shimmered, attracting the light as if absorbing it.

  “Why?” Curious to see what fascinated him, Caly allowed herself to be lured closer. The symbols imprinted in gold, stamped in the center of the piece and along the outer rim, remained stubbornly cryptic. No database she accessed had any record of them.

  “You found this at the temple?” Tentative at first, he traced a finger over the inlaid design like he feared it’d disintegrate.

  “Yes.” What she wouldn’t give for a man to look at her like that just once, worship her with his eyes and treat her like she were more precious than gold.

  Worshiped by him.

  The stray thought hit her with the force of a jackhammer. Not him. She shook her head, resisting the urge to bolt.

  His finger stopped abruptly. Caly looked up to find him studying her with glittering eyes, a pinched, shell-shocked look about him that obliterated any fantasies.

  “This is one of the few keys.”

  “Keys?” Caly drew a blank as her thoughts scrambled to catch up.

  “When humans populated the world, some demons refused to give way. War was imminent. To give humans a chance, a few angels taught them the art of warfare. The special weapons they created can be wielded by only a select few warriors, a precaution to prevent demons from gaining access to them.”

  He glanced down as if to convince himself he held the actual key. “This medallion, along with the others, shows the way to create weapons capable of killing anything that gets in its way. If this,” he curled his fingers protectively over the disk, “fell in the wrong hands, demons would be unstoppable.”

  Caly blinked, more than a bit skeptical. “But you said demons couldn’t wield the weapons. So what if they find it.” Jealous of that possessive look, she crossed her arms and retreated a step.

  “Not all humans believe demons are the enemy. And don’t forget greed.” The words escaped from his tight lips.

  Doubt shot her brow up, but it didn’t take more than a few seconds before she forced herself to be truthful. “Possible.” She snorted. “More than possible.”

  Her eyes narrowed on him, wishing she could force him to answer without having to ask each question. “Why would they leave such weapons behind? They had to know the possibilities.”

  Ruman sighed and ran a hand over his head. �
��Angels were ordered to retreat to give humans the chance to survive on their own without interference. Angels were getting too close to the humans, coming to care for them a little too much. To take the weapons would’ve doomed your race.

  “Some angels protested. A third chose to fall, most in order to protect the humans. But when they fell, they lost their wings, along with most of their abilities, and humans lost their awe of them. Some of the angels turned bitter.”

  Like any true believer, his eyes blazed with his statements. “If the demons and angels who remained trapped here ever found the keys, they’d gain a chance at redemption or the means to wreak their vengeance.” He stilled almost completely, absently rubbing his thumb across the gold surface.

  Her breath hiccupped in her chest, and she whispered to herself. “You’re talking about yourself.” She knew he heard when he turned his back to her, but not before she saw his shattered expression.

  A knot at the back of her throat ached for him and for herself. The only thing standing in his way of ridding himself of his demon was her.

  She let the matter drop, not wanting to think about him leaving her all alone. She couldn’t deal with him and her own problems. Her duty to protect her friends came before anything else. She had no choice, no matter how much she wanted to help him.

  Nervous energy jangled her nerves, and she paced the floor, her long strides easily covering the small space. She felt like she was playing catch-up with thousands of years of history and missing something important. “Demons might be stronger and faster than any human, but we’ve been keeping them in check.”

  “Not exactly.” Ruman shifted. The smile he cast her revealed a cold calculation that sent a quick jab of fear through her. “Angels still do what they can to assist humans. Any plan the demons construct will fail as we are a lot harder to kill.”

  Those dark eyes of his latched on to hers. “In creating the weapons to save the humans, they created their own downfall. These weapons are the only way angels can die and not be re-born.”

  “And since the demons couldn’t find any of these weapons, they’re trying to raise the Fallen in hopes of getting them to create more.” Caly nodded then froze.

  A deep ‘oh shit’ feeling came over her as everything became horrifyingly clear. “They needed a human to wake them. And like stupid idiots, we went when called. Like that mummy curse, when we touched their treasure, we disturbed their slumber.” In a sleight of hand, she snagged the chain and held the medallion to the light. The knife was in the other hand without conscious thought. “The rest of these were destroyed with the temple. All we need to do is destroy the last piece.”

  “No.” But her blade was already descending. Ruman launched himself at her, knocking her hand aside. Her arm grew numb from his blow, and she gaped at him in fury. Glare for glare, he returned her anger.

  “If the medallion survived, so did its owner. The medallion cannot be harmed or it will return to the bearer. There is only a small gap in time between when you destroy the medallion and when the bearer is vulnerable. An hour. Maybe minutes.” His gaze grew so solemn, real fear threaded through her. “Miss the gap and there are no second chances. The blast at the temple that destroyed the others was pure chance. Timed any differently and they would’ve all survived.”

  Completely exasperated, Caly was ready to smack him. “Why didn’t you say that sooner?” She took a step away from him to cover the way her fingers shook at the near miss.

  “We have only one shot.” He rubbed a hand over his eyes and down his haggard face. Weariness slumped his shoulders, and Caly resisted the urge to comfort him. He gazed up at her with stark eyes. “Frankly, I never heard of any who’d succeeded. The only way to destroy the medallion itself would be if the owner took matters into his own hands. It would be suicide for them.”

  “Then what can we do?” She hated to be helpless, hated not knowing a way to break free of this death sentence.

  “To activate the weapons, they need a certain type of person to control the power. An unclaimed wielder. The longer we retain the key, the more time we buy ourselves while they hunt for it. They can’t start their search for the wielders without it.”

  Everything clicked into place. “My group was targeted and sent to the temple, not only to wake them, but because they think one of us can unlock the key. They attacked the warehouse looking for this.”

  “That would be my guess.” Ruman shrugged as if he hadn’t just revealed that everything she’d worked so hard to protect would be destroyed. Even if she got rid of the medallion, they’d still come for her people.

  “I’ve never had a chance to talk to any of the angels who rebelled, so I’m not sure how the process works. Their sins went to a higher source.”

  That piece of information sidetracked her. “Angels sin?” For some reason the thought amused her, and she couldn’t help smile.

  Ruman didn’t return her humor. “How do you think we got into this mess in the first place?”

  He sounded so disgruntled, Caly had to turn away and hide her grin.

  “Although it cost you almost everyone to retrieve the medallion, you and your team managed a task few could accomplish.” He looked down at his palm and slowly flipped over the key. A name blazed on the back. “Azazel.”

  It took a moment to register where she’d heard that name before. “He was one of the leaders of the Fallen.” But something about the name eluded her. “Is he the owner of the keys?”

  “Azazel created thirteen medallions, issuing them to angels with the capability for war. He had a soft spot for humans, which limits the number of potential owners.” Ruman sat against the edge of the desk, his posture not as upright and proud.

  “So we wait.” The answer did not satisfy her. An idea teased at the back of her mind, so dangerous she almost dismissed it. But she couldn’t sit here and wait for her people to be murdered. She whirled and advanced on him. He must not have liked the expression for he held up his hands and backed away.

  “I have a plan.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  “I cannot believe you talked me into this asinine scheme,” Ruman grumbled under his breath, but he knew if he’d refused, she would’ve found a way to confront Azazel in his desert prison without him and that scared the bejesus out of him.

  He would’ve tried to appeal to her reasonable side, caution her about the dangers, but she didn’t possess an iota of self-preservation when her friend’s lives were threatened. He gazed at her seated next to him on the red-eye, and his gut clenched. Nothing could happen to her. “It’s a suicide mission.”

  Caly smiled wickedly and shrugged. “What do you care? It’ll bring you one step closer to saving my life and gaining your freedom.”

  What she said was true, but that didn’t take away the lead weight in his stomach. If anything, it sank deeper and sprouted roots. He wouldn’t allow her to die. The thought had him sweating.

  That’s how messed up his assignment had become. She should be like any other person he had guarded in the past, but she had to do things the hard way.

  This assignment mattered.

  Her life mattered.

  And to top things off, he was reduced to travel by plane. Travel didn’t bother him, but traveling in this contraption was just unnatural. Thankfully, Henry decided to stay with the troop and monitor the activity in town. The buffoon’s broad hints of something underhanded taking place between Caly and himself preyed on his nerves. It wouldn’t be long before he decked the idiot.

  The plane bucked and the seatbelt sign flashed. Ruman looked at the latch secured across his lap and pulled the belt tighter. Flimsy polyester. Who did the manufacturers think they were fooling? The spindly strap couldn’t hold a child, much less an adult in place.

  A low, sexy chuckle prickled along his skin, curled around his senses and called to him like a siren. He fell under her spell without a whimper of protest. Head still lowered, he slanted a glance at the witch.

  “You didn
’t have to travel with me. You manage amazingly well by…unconventional means.”

  Subtlety wasn’t her strong suit, but at least her words were cryptic enough so others wouldn’t understand. “Although I don’t enjoy riding in a tin can with wings,” he cast a derisive look around, “traveling alone is unacceptable.”

  A snort escaped, and she raised an arm to indicate the fellow passengers. “Hardly alone. There are at least two hundred other people on board.”

  “My job is to protect you—”

  “I don’t need your protection.” She lowered her voice and leaned forward to whisper in his ear. “I have managed quite well on my own and I don’t need anyone, let alone you, to tell me how to go about it.” She unbuckled her belt and rose.

  The warmth of her breath, the smoky sound of her voice distracted him, almost allowing her to escape. He snatched her wrist before she took a step, taking pleasure in the simple touch. He nodded to the front of the cabin. “The sign says to remain seated.”

  He cursed himself for his weakness to her. If he couldn’t stifle his emotions, he’d end up putting her in danger. She’d play him the first chance she got, just like all the other humans he’d met. The only way he knew how to counter her was to keep her near him at all times.

  But the proximity was the problem. The attraction between them grew the longer they remained together. He feared they’d both suffer for it before the mission was complete.

  “Is there a problem?” A flight attendant stood in the aisle, a polite smile in place.

  Before Ruman could speak, Caly stepped forward, breaking his hold.

  “I’m feeling unwell and need to use the restroom.”

  The petite blonde hesitated before she nodded, “There are a few empty seats in coach by the bathrooms.”

  Ruman watched as Caly walked away, furious but unwilling to make a scene. He touched his seatbelt to follow when the plane jerked. He hastily tightened the strap. It wasn’t like she could go far.

  “Don’t worry. It’s only a little turbulence.” For the next four hours, he heard Caly’s laughter drift from the back of the plane. The husky sound tightened the band of muscles of his shoulders. He would’ve given chase, but the blonde had him trapped. Every time he attempted retrieve Caly, she came back again like a rash.