Bat Out of Hell (Promised to the Demons Book 2)

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Bat Out of Hell (Promised to the Demons Book 2) Page 13

by Lidiya Foxglove


  "Ohh...I wonder if they're all right up there," I murmured. "But I can't leave them hungry."

  I scrambled back to my feet and looked over the herbs and tonics, finding some lozenges for seasickness. That settled my innards down just enough to finish the biscuits and then I made a frittata. Despite how sick I felt, everything in the kitchen was only shifting around a little, so I knew it all felt worse than it really was.

  I wasn't able to make a proper dessert but I found blueberry preserves in the stores to serve with the biscuits and butter.

  Despite the queasiness, I was thankful for all the work that was needed. It kept my mind off...other things.

  The way Piers looked at me...

  I could still see the way he looked as the shadow fell across the window. He was so alone in the world, but he was also changing with us. Not just with me, but he was spending a lot of time with Bevan. He was talking to us more, coming out of those shadows that clouded his mind.

  In that moment, I had wanted very much to put a hand to his face. To comfort him.

  I would never cheat on Bevan. Never. I was the one who fell in love with him first, and my feelings had never waned.

  I couldn't quite ignore that I had seen Bevan's witch working with her four bond-mates, all of them together. I had seen Daisy and her three husbands making a happy family together. And now Cash also had two mates?

  It was getting hard to ignore that other women had more than one mate. How did it all work? I was no longer sure what Bevan thought about it all. He brought it up and then asked if Piers could join us on this voyage.

  Bevan has to be aware of how that could sound...

  I didn't how I could possibly broach the subject. How did it all get started? Did we both ask Piers on a date? Or did I just spend time with him separately? And then, how far did it go? Did I want to actually do things with Piers like I did with Bevan? That seemed a little much, especially when Bevan was keeping me awfully busy. Still, I kept feeling as if I wanted to comfort Piers with a gentle touch...a caress...

  Maybe even a kiss...

  But do you really like him, or is it just Bernard haunting you again?

  And what would Variel say if I took two mates but not him?

  I couldn’t ignore Variel either. Sometimes I wondered if that witch knew something after all, because I kept feeling drawn to him, against all sense. And he seemed to feel the same way about me. Bevan, Piers, and Variel were all so different that I didn’t even think of them as competition for each other. But the idea of not having them around was starting to seem sad to me. When I imagined the future, I realized they were in it.

  I had no idea what to do with all these feelings, or who to even talk to about it. I was sure this ship didn't have any books on bond-mate romance...

  And them, suddenly, I felt a horrific shudder against the ship and it seemed to be thrust up from the water and then dropped down. I got knocked from side to side in the kitchen, slamming down on my ass while my tools and ingredients slid around.

  Up on the deck, I heard the men screaming, "Man overboard!"

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Lord Variel

  The dangers of the Lost Isles hadn't been exaggerated. That was clear as soon as the seas began to chop and the skies darken. My people had never been sailors, but I was handling the seas as well as anyone. The winds tore at my wings and tantalized me with flight. I feared that if I spread them, I might be whipped off the ship and unable to control where I went. It was truly a pity I had no time to learn to fly before we left, but in this place, even an experienced flier might be dashed into the sea.

  Still, when Lorian grabbed me and started ordering me to hold down ropes or carry some barrels downstairs, I was glad to have something to do, even if my grip was clumsier as I grabbed objects hugged in my wings.

  The storms only grew worse as we kept sailing north. It was getting on to dusk when something very large struck the ship on the underside, lifting the prow up from the waves before the ship slammed back down again. Water crashed over the deck and sloshed across. Piers was knocked over and slid, while Bevan changed into a bat, struggling to control his own flight as the wind buffeted his wings.

  I ran to the prow and was greeted with the head of a sea beast, with white scales and a serpentine neck. Its head was adorned with frills and four antennae, and it opened an eel-like mouth to let out a screech.

  "Holy shit," Bevan said as a second head came out of the water. "Two of them? Or are we fighting Ghidorah?"

  The heads both reached for the ship, which suddenly seemed quite fragile, and bit into the wood, splintering bits.

  I didn't hesitate now. This was no time to formulate a battle strategy. I flew into the water and veered right at one of the heads.

  "Man overboard!" Finn yelled from the upper decks.

  "And what can we do about it?" Bevan said, watching me just a moment before he flew back to the others.

  I had to act quickly. If this monster tore a hole in the hull of the ship, we would likely perish. I wrapped my legs around the sea dragon's first neck and then my tail, digging my claws and spikes into its flesh. The head whipped around, screeching, trying to shake me off, but now I dug the claws of my wings in and climbed the dragon's neck, almost shimmying like it was a palm tree in a hurricane.

  If I was scared, if my heart pounded, I didn't feel that. This was a hunt, like any other, although certainly one of the more dangerous hunts. I hadn’t had a good challenge in far too long.

  The dragon dove under the water, trying to shake me off by drowning me. I took a deep breath as we plunged into the water.

  The dragon was bringing me down deeper and deeper by the moment, into dark waters. But I could see in the dimmest light. I knew I had to act quickly now. I drove my claws into the dragon's eyes. Bubbles swirled past my head as it screeched at the pain.

  It wasn't enough.

  Jenny would die, if this dragon destroyed the ship. They would all die. Even my servants might never know what became of me.

  I felt the strength of my rage and demonic power coursing through me, and I kept tearing at the face of the dragon, goring into it, with my claws and teeth, while it whipped around desperately. I kept my tail tight around its neck, my only anchor now as it knocked me around in the water. Something struck my head, but my horns took the brunt.

  My lungs were full to bursting. My head was ringing. Blood filled the water, mingling with the shadows.

  I was just holding on. Maybe I'd killed the thing.

  No, Variel! You must not go down this way. All beings are your servants, and this beast most of all.

  I made one last lunge for the dragon, and I bit on to the dragon's ravaged face, my mouth flooding with salt water and blood. I sucked the dragon's soul out of its body, as the beast tried its best to fight me. It thrashed, but its cries grew weaker and weaker.

  "Take me to the surface," I choked with my last bit of air, and then the water rushed into my lungs. I felt the dragon move, but I was fading fast as the sea water choked me… I was losing hold...

  But the ship would survive. So would she.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Jenny

  "Variel!" When I reached the surface, I caught just a glimpse of Variel battling with a huge sea monster before it pulled him under. A slew of bubbles surfaced after him, and the water was white with thrashing wings, tails, and limbs.

  Then it started to quiet, and Bevan hit the ground next to me from bat form. He grabbed a rope and tossed it overboard.

  "Remonter a la surface," Piers snapped, flinging a hand out to the water. He leaned forward and Bevan grabbed a handful of his jacket to steady him.

  A wave pitched the ship and they slid back.

  This is how Jenny Franch died, I suddenly thought. On a ship...in an unexpected storm...

  I scrambled to stand with Piers and lend him what power I could. "We can't give up," I gasped. "Come on--remonter a la surface!"

  "It isn't working," Pier
s said.

  "Refocus, then try," Bevan said.

  We all took a deep breath, although it was hard to refocus when we might be losing someone.

  A dragon head suddenly surfaced, with Variel caught in its teeth, and it dropped him on the deck. The dragon growled. Piers and Bevan were ready to attack, but the dragon backed off and its antennae and frills lowered.

  “What happened to the other head?” Bevan asked warily, and a moment later, the head surfaced, cut off from the body. The dragon seemed fine enough without it.

  I turned Variel onto his back and pressed my hands to his huge chest. I whispered a spell to help his lungs expel the water and then I put my mouth to his.

  Variel coughed up the water and his eyes opened. "I'm alive..."

  "You seem to be."

  “And this slip of a girl saved me..."

  Variel's eyes lingered on me for a moment, and then his eyelids lowered over the red glow of his eyes, and he said, "I am not at all surprised you would save my life, even after I tried to hurt you..."

  "It's not even worth mentioning," I said. "We all got right to work saving you. And what were you doing with that dragon, anyway? You saved our lives! But you nearly died!”

  "I have devoured the soul of the sea beast," Variel said. "It will do my bidding now."

  "That's wonderful," I said. "Maybe it can protect us as we go."

  "Jenny, I wouldn't have been able to do it without this body," Variel said. "I needed every claw and horn and fang I possessed just to hold on and to damage enough that I could suck out its soul. I know you see me as a monster, but I hope...I will prove to you...that I'm your monster..." His head lolled to the side a little. He almost shut his eyes.

  "He's passing out," Piers said. "Let's get him in bed."

  "High demons...do not pass out," Variel said, as he passed out.

  “Get him to bed,” Piers said. “I’ll do some investigative spells on the sea monster just to make sure he won’t attack again.”

  "Well, toadlet," Bevan said, after he heaved Variel into bed. I was pulling the covers out from under Variel, shaking them and covering him up. He was very wet and I worried he'd catch cold. "They really are both in love with you."

  He was leaning against the wall by the stove, having stoked the fire a little. We were alone, as long as Variel stayed asleep.

  "What are you trying to say?" I felt very guilty. "I mean, Variel just has this prophecy in his head..."

  "I'd bet money that he'd fall for you anyway," Bevan said. "The prophecy is just an excuse. You make people better...just by being around. Taking care of them. Trusting them."

  "Even when they didn't deserve it?"

  "Yeah," Bevan said. "Even then."

  "Bevan...you wouldn't share me, would you? Like Helena and her mates? Or Daisy?"

  Bevan looked at me, and his smile had something a little wild in it. Then he brushed it away as he slipped a hand around my waist and tipped my chin up to kiss.

  His kiss was tender as his lips caressed mine, and his hand was steady around me. I started to relax into him, even as I wondered what he meant to say. A little flame of excitement rose up inside me as I dared to wonder what it meant to be shared. How would it feel if they were all free to adore me without competition? And was I still being naive? Had they really changed?

  Variel will never make that mistake again, I thought. I am as sure as I've ever been sure of anything. And Piers just needs acceptance and love. We already understand each other.

  I was still surprised that Bevan seemed to suddenly be into it.

  "I'll share you," he said into my ear, giving my earlobe a gentle tug between the gently sharp edges of his teeth. "If it's what you want.” A thrill ran straight from my ear to my core.

  "Really? Is it what you want?"

  “On one condition. I’m taking the rest of Variel's power now, while he's weakened."

  I drew back. "Take his power?" I whispered. "The rest of it? All of it?"

  "It seems like I can't draw from his physical characteristics. He’ll keep his horns and claws and fangs, and the basic powers of any magical being. But I need control of that dragon. I'm going to the temple, at the edge of the world. Gods only know what I'll be facing alone. My powers aren't that strong. I might not come back if I don't have the strength for the task."

  "Couldn't Variel just...come with you?” Not that I knew how he could, if he didn’t know how to fly. Maybe he was strong enough to row to the island. But no, he didn’t have hands…

  "It's the sacred place for familiars,” Bevan said. “It’s my task to take on. He's still a high demon. I shouldn't have to rely on him. Anyway, his power is part of his problem. Without it, he won't feel like he has to be such a big bad demon anymore. He could finally start to admit to you how he really feels.”

  It was an enticing idea, because I felt this was true.

  "Can you manage his powers?"

  "I'm not worried about that. All I want to do is help our kind. I'm not hungry for power.”

  Usually, Bevan seemed nothing but kind and reasonable, but I would get those flashes where he seemed to change--when something else consumed him.

  But it certainly wasn't all negative. When he seemed to embrce the power he got from Variel, when he was more aggressive and ambitious, my body responded with a swell of desire. I felt like he could protect me from anything, and the pleasure was equally intense.

  Maybe it wasn't wrong at all for a familiar to take on the powers of a demon...

  Bevan had a point. He would surely use it as well as Variel, wouldn't he?

  And then I could explore a bonded partnership...

  Just the thought made a shiver run down my spine.

  “You will need strength if you face danger," I said. “So…go ahead.”

  He cupped my face in his hands. "Celeste is the right name for you. You're my star."

  Bevan put his hand over Variel. His eyes grew very intent as he began to speak the soft words of a spell. His voice was nearly menacing despite that I could hardly hear him.

  "You devoured my soul," he said. "I'm taking the last scrap of it back. Jameson...Gillian...it's time they were all free. And the sea dragon... You're tired of it, Variel. It’s over."

  I caught my breath.

  "Don't hurt him, Bevan," I said.

  "Oh, I won't," Bevan said, but I wondered, as Variel started to twitch and then flail and grunt and growl, fighting off whatever he was feeling through his dreams.

  No...I've made the wrong decision, I thought, flying at Bevan and grabbing his arms.

  "Bevan! I was naive again. If you wanted bond-mates, you shouldn't have given me a caveat."

  "I was going to take this power anyway," he said. "But I did want your blessing.”

  "You are hurting him, aren't you?"

  Bevan ignored me now, as he was drawing power from Variel and growing even larger than before. He had to duck not to hit his head on the ceiling of the cabin as he grew past seven feet tall, nearly as tall as Variel was when we met. His body grew with it, and he quickly had to shift his clothes so they didn't tear around him. He was still Bevan, still more slender and agile, but he had finally reached a point where he was truly imposing. He flexed his long arms and then, as he turned to me, I saw that he had sharp teeth like Variel.

  "Bevan..."

  "I'm the Devourer now," he said. "I feel it in me. Whatever dangers I might meet on that island…I can face them."

  "You're scaring me a little. Is Variel really okay?"

  Behind Bevan, Variel's head tossed and then he suddenly snapped awake.

  Variel was still, certainly, no meek creature. He was still very muscular and over a foot taller than me, with a scratch on his face from his fight with the dragon--but otherwise, he appeared untouched. He shoved off the blanket, rising to face Bevan.

  "You took my power!" he said. "You took advantage of me when I was fighting for your life!"

  "You know how these things work," Bevan said. "I took
it from you because you couldn't hold onto it. You don't really want this power anymore. Not like I do. You devoured my soul when I hadn't even summoned you, but I'm not some weak wizard. I'm ready to change things in this world, and you're ancient. Your ambition has run out. But I know the one thing you really do want."

  "Jenny..." There was something almost touching, seeing Variel with his huge horns and blazing red eyes, taloned wings and the rough fur around his shoulders, looking at me like I made him weak.

  I guess...I did make him weak. Bevan was able to take his power because of me...? Could it really be true?

  “Jenny has some feelings for you,” Bevan said. “And I’m not going to hold her to me and only me.”

  “I do want the sweet toad maid," Lord Variel said. "I want...to build you a new cottage, with my own hands, that has nothing to do with my father or my grandfather and has no dungeon or torture chamber at all." He bit out a curse, and growled, "That is my shameful confession. The powers of high demons can slip away all too easily when we lose our desire to cause chaos. So my father warned me."

  "Please don't be ashamed," I said. "I'm...very happy to hear it!”

  “This is truly how you feel?” Variel asked.

  “Yes,” I said. “I realized that despite your many flaws, you really do care. And when I argued and called you dense, you never got angry at me, and…I want to keep arguing. But maybe, also, more. I love you, Bevan, and I want you to find the secrets of familiars. But I also...am finding you very hard not to like, Variel. I would love more than anything for you to build me a cottage. Can I make a request already? Just a small one?"

  "Of course," Variel said, still sounding pretty growly.

  "Two baking ovens...and a big long table?"

  "That would benefit me as much as you, I'd say." He glared toward Bevan. "I know what you say is true. My father told me that demons are forged in ambition and ruthlessness, and for all I have tried to pretend I am full of those qualities, you have exposed me as a failure. I cannot lie that there is a little relief in it."

 

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