The Demon Within (A PeaceKeeper Novel)

by Stacey Brutger

  She swallowed the temptation to look behind her, refused to give him any ammunition against her.

  He circled her, his fingers tracing the case she’d been admiring, and slowly opened the lid to temptation. “Go ahead. Touch it.”

  The desire to do just that shook her control. The need to feel the dagger in her grip made her palms itch. Her hand hovered over the pommel when self-preservation kicked her hard in the guts.

  “No harm will come to you. Feel the balance. It’s perfect. To hold. To throw. To fight.”

  Seduced, Caly traced the air above the finely honed steel. Electricity, not unlike a shock, coursed through her fingers. The longer she lingered, the stronger the sensation grew.

  “Ah, that explains it.” He sounded both pleased and a bit disgruntled.

  “Hmmm?” Unwilling to be distracted, Caly tuned his voice out. The design etched into the steel matched the pommel and both were unfamiliar. It frustrated her that she couldn’t place either the age or the ethnicity.

  “That explains why you find the knife so much more interesting than me.”

  It took a few seconds for the words to register. “What?” Caly whirled, placing her body protectively in front of the dagger.

  “People throughout the centuries came here for a chance to own one of these weapons. Weapons blessed and owned by some of the fiercest kings and warriors throughout history. Many were rejected. Others came wanting something else.” He smiled dangerously and took a step forward.

  “What do you want? If you could have anything,” he took another step, “anything in the world, what would you choose? Cold steel or,” he closed the space between them, “a lifetime of having your every wish granted?” He lifted his hand, and Caly sidestepped to avoid his touch.

  “The weapon.” She didn’t hesitate.

  “Caly.” Ruman’s voice made the image of Azazel waver.

  Azazel’s gaze sharpened. A wry smile crossed his lips, a touch of pain and a bit of derision. “An angel. Not many visitors bring one of their kind along.” The pretenses were dropped, every trace of seduction was replaced by determination. “We don’t have much time. Even with the help of your guardian, the chances of survival are almost non-existent.”

  Darkness crowded closer and she fought to remain. She needed answers. “Why offer to help me?”

  He smiled sadly. “You don’t understand yet, but you will. For the love of a woman, I gave up everything. And because of a betrayal, I’ll spend eternity here.”

  Caly narrowed her eyes. “A sentence that could end with the start of a war.”

  “Not like this. Humans and demons have managed to do this one all on their own.”

  “Tell me.” Only his face remained visible. She could feel Ruman’s hands on her, a murmur of his voice calling her to him. Urgency ratcheted through her.

  She couldn’t leave without answers.

  “You have to survive or the demons will gain a foothold in the war. The dagger you admired so much will come to you. It will protect you as it did those who came before you.” The light dissipated until only his voice spoke out of the inky blackness.

  “Why me?” She couldn’t prevent herself from asking. “Why help me?”

  A gentle breeze touched her face like a caress. “You remind me of someone I use to know a long time ago. Be brave. Be daring. And may you have the courage to grab and keep what you hold most dear.”

  The sadness in his voice filled her eyes with a rush of tears. The loss, the loneliness drowned her, and her breath hiccupped in her chest.

  His voice emerged gruff. “You must protect yourself. Without you, and others like you, there to fight, the war will be lost. You’re faster, stronger than most of the others. Use it to protect them.”

  “Caly!” Ruman’s voice boomed in her head. “You need to wake up.”

  She bolted upright only to have the seatbelt yank her back. Pain radiated along her cheek. When she looked up, she saw Ruman’s arm raised to deliver another blow. “Wha…at? What’s going on?” Her eyes refused to focus, and she fumbled with the buckle.

  “Sandstorm. The car is too small, the wind’s too strong. We have to make a run for it until the storm works itself out.” Even as he spoke, the car rocked from side to side like a tilt o whirl.

  The noise outside drowned out every sound but the pounding sand and the howl of the vengeful wind. Groggy, feeling drugged, Caly squinted out the window and couldn’t make sense of what she saw. The arid desert appeared like a wall of sand. Through the shifting grains, a shape of a ruin appeared less than twenty feet from the car.

  “Come.” Ruman opened the door and struggled to slip on her pack. The door caught the wind, yanking the handle from his grip. Metal twisted and he swore. “Crawl across, there’s no way we’ll be able to open your side. Hurry.” He crouched low, using the car as a shield.

  Caly did as told, slamming her knee against the console in her rush. “Damn.” The instant she left the shelter of the car, the grains of sand bit into her skin like needles piercing her flesh. Her legs shook, and she staggered. The wind ripped the air from her lungs, and Ruman stepped in front of her, taking the brunt of the force.

  It didn’t matter. The sand hit her clothes with enough force to shred them, her leather protecting her only to some extent. The exposed skin felt sunburned, tight and itchy.

  She resisted the urge to spit and clear her mouth, knowing she’d only get a mouthful of sand in return. Tears leaked from her eyes, the grit making them swollen. She snagged the back of Ruman’s jacket then reluctantly closed her eyes, trusting him not to get them killed.

  When her boot skidded on stone, she risked a glance upward, and saw the old stone ruins. Two more steps and she was inside. She staggered from the lack of wind. It was all she could do to remain upright.

  The calm inside felt unnatural, like an omen of worse things to come. Sand trickled from her hair and clothing with every move. She licked her lips, but found only sand. She leaned against the wall with a grunt, her legs folding under her as slid to the floor.

  Ruman watched Caly, disturbed that she’d allowed him guide her without a fight. Something was seriously wrong.

  She was so strong, seeing her weak reminded him that she was still part human and fragile. He clenched his fists. Nothing could happen to her.

  His failure meant her life.

  It hadn’t mattered with the others.

  Now it was too damn important.

  “Caly?” He couched then tilted her head back to study her face.

  “Tired.” She shoved feebly at his hands, the timbre of her voice rough, her skin a shade paler than normal. Shadows under her eyes darkened like bruises. The lack of fight tightened his chest. He’d seen symptoms like this before. “Did you dream?”

  A shrug was all he received in answer. His foreboding deepened into dread. “Caly—”

  “Yes. Now leave me alone.” She yawned, shifted and closed her eyes.

  The strength in his legs vanished. He cupped her head, his thumb brushing her cheek. “Look at me.”

  Dull green eyes met his.

  When she didn’t pull away, swallowing became difficult. He kept his voice soft, and hoped like hell he sounded coaxing and not royally pissed. “Tell me about your dream.”

  Caly gazed blankly at him, and it was all he could do not to demand she answer. Why the hell had they taken his ability to read people when he needed it the most?

  “I was in some museum, only it wasn’t.” A frown wrinkled between her brows. “Weapons decorated the walls, old, ancient pieces from all over the world.”

  A deep, blistering anger took hold with every word she spoke, locking his muscles with rage. Though he wanted to be gentle, his voice dropped low and deadly. “Did a man appear?”

  Caly’s stare sharpened, distrust coloring her beautiful eyes to a wintry green. “What do you know that you’re not telling me?” The threat was back in her voice.

  “The rotten bastard.” He wanted to punch som
ething. “Somehow Azazel knew we were here.” Wrath gathered inside him like an unstoppable storm, energy pouring off him in waves. Thankfully, the bastard had returned her. He would’ve ripped apart the very walls to get her back.

  Caly didn’t even flinch at his anger. Instead, she raised her chin and met him glare for glare. “I knew it. You were going to leave me behind.” She knocked away his arms, and struggled to stand, her anger draining away her lethargy.

  “Did he touch you? Threaten you in any way?” He stalked after her. He didn’t like the look she cast at him from beneath her lashes. “Why are you looking at me that way?”

  “It was real.” Caly licked her lips.

  The nervous gesture heated his body, redirecting his thoughts to their kiss. Ruman resisted the urge to touch her. The answers were too important to allow his emotions to interfere. He had to know what the bastard did to her. “Azazel. Did he touch you?”

  Caly shook her head. “He appeared more concerned about me than anything else.”

  Ruman settled his hands on her shoulders, battling the urge to search her for injuries. “Tell me exactly what he said. If he hurt you, I swear I’ll track him down and—”

  “Stop it.” She knocked away his hands. “What the hell’s gotten into you? You’re acting like a lunatic. You’re just pissed you were cut out of the deal.”

  The look of disgust she gave him didn’t deter him at all. “Deal?” The way he said the word must have warned her of his mood. She stepped back but then quickly halted her retreat.

  “He said without protection, I would die. That he didn’t start the war and it was up to us to stop the demons.” She hesitated, obviously reluctant to share more with him. “He promised me a dagger.”

  Ruman sucked in a sharp breath. “What?”

  “He said I reminded him of someone. He mentioned that others like me were out there, warriors who need to fight if we want to survive.” Caly rubbed her brow, her face growing increasingly pale under the strain to remember and he relented.

  “Sit, rest.” That she sat and didn’t protest unnerved him. He wanted to hold her to make sure she didn’t disappear on him again. She looked so aloof, he wondered if their kiss meant anything to her, if it changed anything between them. He felt her distancing herself from him, and he didn’t know how to stop it.

  “Are you just going to stand there and watch? I won’t be able to rest with you looming over me.” The snark in her voice let him know his Caly had returned. When he crossed his arms and stared, she relented. “I swear if he appears again, you’ll be the first to know.”

  It was the best he was going to get. He forced his muscles to unlock and reluctantly stepped away. Near the entrance, he gazed blankly at the wall. He pretended interest in the designs, counting to twenty before blatantly turning to watch her.

  With her eyes closed, Caly looked like an angel, and he had to remind himself that she was not invincible. Someone wanted her dead, and he’d done a piss-poor job of protecting her so far.

  The thought set his shoulders back, and he twisted to face the opening. He tensed as the sun fought to lighten the sky.

  When he didn’t feel his skin tighten, the slow hardening of his body, he relaxed. The building must be on holy ground. It was the only thing that would delay his shift. As long as he stayed in the building, he’d remain mobile.

  They needed a plan, a form of attack. A way he could keep her stubborn hide safe. He turned and studied Caly, wondering if there was anything he could do or say that would convince her to allow him to protect her. Dark lashes rested against her pale cheeks. Normally so strong and animated, seeing her unmoving made his heart skip a beat. She’d lost weight since they’d met.

  Kneeling, he dug in his pack until he uncovered the food. He unwrapped one sandwich and walked toward her. “Eat.” He resisted the urge to tuck her hair behind her ear and nudged her instead, waiting ‘til she took the dark, circular bread with snippets of quail. She didn’t look happy, but he didn’t care as long as she did as told.

  In silence, he searched the rest of the room to give her some privacy. Caly’s gaze landed on his back like a brand, and he welcomed any kind of attention, no matter how pathetic it made him.

  The ruins had three intact walls. The partially crumbled fourth wall had allowed them entrance. Three steps led up to a solid altar, worn down by time and sand from the brutal wind. After twenty minutes, he’d inspected every seam and found nothing useful. No clue as to who lived here or who had built the structure.

  The blocks were enormous, an engineering feat that had to rival the ancient Egyptian pyramids, yet there was no sign that humans had been here for years. A deep foreboding built like a fire in his gut. “Caly, do you recognize this structure?”

  When she didn’t respond, Ruman turned. Caly stood in the middle of the room. She faced the altar, her palms flat on the surface. The solid top had split, yawning open like a giant maw.

  “Booby-trap!” But it was too late.

  So intent on what was before her, Caly didn’t even flinch at the sound of his voice. She reached down inside the opening. Even as he raced toward her, he knew it was too late.

  Much too late for either of them. “Caly!”

  Her body snapped taut, her muscles convulsed and she flew backwards as if struck. Ruman braced himself, but she slammed him with enough force they both sailed three feet before landing.

  The impact stunned him, knocking the breath from his body. The sand and stone tore flesh from his back as his body scraped the floor’s surface.

  Struggling for air, Ruman forced his body to roll over and scrambled toward Caly. Her back arched as another wave swept through her, her body fighting for her life. He gathered her in his arms, holding her still so she wouldn’t hurt herself.

  The weapons created to save mankind were not designed to be wielded by humans. Those who were chosen didn’t have a choice in the matter once they touched the metal. The blade converted the wielder, changing them to be able to withstand the side effects. The downside was that if rejected, the human never woke.

  He cursed his own stupidity. She’d told him about the dagger. He knew to watch for it, and had allowed it to happen anyway. Clasped tightly in her right hand was the pommel of a knife. The blade itself rested tight against the skin of her arm, streaking the exposed area an angry red and dark, bruising blue.

  Infection.

  Azazel’s promise had come true.

  Caly got her blade. Hopefully, she’d live long enough to wield the damn thing.

  Chapter Nineteen

  The last thing Caly remembered was the searing pain that ripped through her body when she touched the knife, tearing her apart from the inside out. Molten lava burned through her veins. A tidal wave of heat worked its way up her hand and spread outward.

  It scalded her guts like she’d guzzled acid. She tried to move, escape the pain, but it was impossible. Ruman shouted her name. The split-second distraction broke her concentration. Power swelled and propelled her backwards as if a giant fist had flattened her.

  Pain emanated from the metal she held, but she refused to release it.

  The dagger was hers. If she let go, it’d be lost.

  Caly gasped for breath, jerking upright. Heart pounding almost out of her chest, she quickly scanned her surroundings.

  Then blinked in surprise as she recognized her own bedroom.

  Bracing for the worst, she glanced down. The pommel of the knife rested securely in her palm. She opened her fingers, and they peeled away as if reluctant.

  The knife from her dreams, the one he had promised her. She tested the balance, surprised the way the blade felt like it had been made for her.

  Relief made her giddy, and she traced a finger along the ancient words. The blade shone brightly in the dim room as if illuminated from within, the cold light licking at her fingers in the almost prickly way of a cat’s tongue. Although she hadn’t recognized the design earlier, she easily translated the word. “Carnwenna
n.”

  “Caly?” Ruman’s raspy voice emerged from the inky blackness, and her lungs forget how to function for a minute at the sound of her name.

  She jerked her head up, relaxing when she picked out his reassuring shape in the shadows. The chair creaked as he straightened, and her heart leapt pathetically at seeing him again. Memories of the kiss clouded her mind, her body shivering as she relived the feel of his touch.

  “You brought me home.” She felt exposed at being so vulnerable. He knew everything about her, all her ugly secrets lay exposed and he still saved her life. It left her floundering, uncertain where they went from here, especially since he remained across the room from her.

  When she looked at him, hoping to gauge his reaction to what happened between them, it was to find the shadows clinging to him as if hiding him from her. The distance between them grew frosty at his continual silence. When he didn’t try to touch her, a burst of fear hiccupped in her chest.

  Ruman stood without a word, took a step toward her, and she wasn’t sure she was ready to hear what he had to say. A piece of paper fluttered to the floor, but it was his clenched fists that drew her gaze, the rigid way he held his body.

  Caly scooted back on the bed, completely at a loss at what to expect. His clothes were wrinkled, his face pale in the darkness. There was no warmth in his expression at all, his eyes as hard as agate as he surveyed her form. It was like all of the intimate moments between them never happened. Looking at the ghost of the man she’d touched and kissed not so long ago made the back of her throat ache in loss.

  As he reached the bed, a light blue color flared from the steel, highlighting the design crafted on the blade, startling her so badly she nearly dropped the knife. “What is it?”

  “It senses demons. Blue for demons, red for danger.” His words were clipped, his tone carefully neutral, but at least he was talking to her.

  “You mean like that hobbit movie?”