CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Fang couldn’t breathe as he lay on the bed in wolf form. His branded shoulder was killing him. The mark burned in a way that made him want to tear his own arm off.

What is wrong with me?

The pain was excruciating as he pawed at the bed, trying to bury himself inside the white and blue quilt. Nothing eased the pain. No position or stretch.

Panting, he felt like his insides were being shredded. I’m giving birth to the alien in Alien. . . . Every sound made was too loud for his ears. Every heartbeat tore through his skull.

He wanted to kill something.

The scent of blood hung in his nostrils, enticing him. Calling him . . .

If you kill the bears, you can take their powers and have Aimee.

He scowled at the foreign voice in his head. Was he losing his mind?

What did they really do for you? Nothing. They threw your brother out and left him to fend for himself and his mate. They don’t care about any of you. Pay them back for what they did to Vane and Wren.

Death to the bears. . . .

Fang shook his head, trying to clear it of the hostile anger. What was wrong with him? He felt drunk as sounds echoed around him and his vision dimmed.

“Fang?”

He heard Aimee’s voice as she appeared in his room. She looked like a sugary morsel, standing in front of his dresser with the light shining in from the window to highlight her pale hair. The shadows played on her skin, cutting angles across her beautiful face. It reminded him of the way she’d looked the first time he’d seen her at Sanctuary.

But tonight, he didn’t want her kindness.

The demon inside wanted her blood.

“Go away,” he growled at her. He didn’t want to be around her while he felt like this. He didn’t have control of himself or the demon. It was growing larger and it was seeping through every part of him.

Violent and lethal, he was afraid of himself.

He didn’t know how much longer he could hold it off. May the gods help her if it broke free while she was with him. The hatred and desire to cause her pain was ever harsh and demanding.

Don’t let me hurt her. . . .

But he wasn’t sure he could abide by that. The hunger inside him was too great.

Aimee hesitated at the feral sound of Fang’s tone in her head. Something was obviously wrong with him. Uncertain as to what it was, she moved closer and held her hand out to stroke his fur. “What’s wrong, baby?”

He turned on her and snapped at her hand as if he’d gone mad. One minute he was a wolf and in the next human.

He came off the bed, stalking her. Completely naked, his body was covered in a fine sheen of sweat. His cheeks were dusted by whiskers as his damp hair fell into his eyes. Every muscle of his tawny body was taut and corded as if he were pulling back from lashing out.

A new wave of fear consumed her as she backed up. There was a predatory gait to his walk. One that said he was assessing her as prey.

“Talk to me, Fang.”

“And say what?” He continued to advance on her until he’d pressed her against the wall and cocked his head. There was a light in his dark eyes that was truly scary. It was a light that warned her to be wary and one that told her this wasn’t the wolf she’d learned to love.

This was the one she’d seen that first day in Sanctuary. The feral wolf who terrified everyone.

He buried his face in her neck and inhaled deeply while he stroked her cheek with one hand. “I can already taste your blood.”

He sank his teeth into her flesh.

Hissing, Aimee knocked him back with a fierce blow to his solar plexus. “What are you doing?”

He grabbed her arm and pulled her against him in a hold made of steel. “This is what you want, isn’t it? Your wolf to attack you?”

Aimee twisted out of his offensive grip. “Who are you?”

“I’m Fang, baby. Can’t you tell?”

No. This wasn’t Fang. There was something definitely wrong. He didn’t even smell right.

Then she saw it. The tiniest flash of red in his eyes. And in an instant, she knew what it was.

He was possessed.

“No . . . ,” she breathed as terror consumed her.

Had something followed him back from the Nether Realm?

He tried to bite her again.

Aimee reacted on instinct. Kneeing him in the groin as hard as she could, she shoved him back. He stumbled away, cupping himself.

Please let it only be the demon feeling that and not Fang. Fang she wouldn’t hurt for anything. But the demon was a whole other story.

She stood over him, aching for his pain, but not enough that she would be his willing victim. “If you can hear me, Fang, I need you to push this away and come back to me.”

His eyes glowed bloodred in the darkness as he straightened up. Without responding at all, he grabbed her roughly.

Aimee whimpered in pain.

That single sound seemed to reach whatever part of the real Fang was still there. She saw the regret flash in his gaze as he released her.

Pure anguish contorted his features as he staggered back. “Run, Aimee. Get out!”

She hesitated, not wanting to leave him here. But she could tell he was holding on to himself by a narrow margin and doing his best not to hurt her. Staying here would only make it worse on him. “I’ll get help.”

His legs buckled an instant before he fell to the floor where he writhed as if in utter agony. He flashed back to his wolf’s form.

Aimee winced, desperate to soothe him.

But first she had to make sure he didn’t hurt her. Torn, she knew she had no choice but to leave. It was the best for both of them.

With no idea of what she should do, she flashed herself to Club Charonte—the dance club and bar that Xedrix and company had opened with her brother Kyle’s help. Surely a demon would know and be able to tell her how to help Fang with his current dilemma. She couldn’t think of anyone else who would have an inkling.

If Xedrix couldn’t help her, she didn’t know what she’d do.

The club was packed tonight with college students, young locals, and tourists dancing while demons moved through them as staff.

If the humans only knew. . . .

But they weren’t what concerned her. Only Fang did.

Loud hip-hop music thundered through the club as lights flashed and danced across the people, demons, floor, and bar. The crowd mingled all around her in couples or in groups while the demons tried to blend in. A few did have their horns showing, but the humans seemed to accept those as fake. Some of them were even showing their real mottled-colored skin, but again, the humans complimented them on the makeup.

Weird.

Aimee stopped a male Charonte with red horns and orange and red skin as he passed by her with an empty tray tucked under his arm. “Hey, where’s Xedrix?”

He gave her a suspicious once-over.

“I’m Kyle Peltier’s sister and I need to speak to him.”

That seemed to reassure him. He pressed the mic on his headset. “Xed, there’s a bear down here for you.” He nodded, then looked back at her. “He’s on his way.”

“Thank you.”

The demon wandered off toward the mirrored bar area.

She saw a door open from an upstairs room that must be the office. It had a mirrored window where Xedrix could no doubt look out and spy on his workers and patrons.

Dressed in jeans and a loose blue T-shirt, Xedrix made his way down the steps. Aimee had to give him credit. For a demon, he was damn good-looking. That lean body was ripped and his black hair framed near-perfect features.

But the dismal expression on his face was almost funny as he stopped by her side. “This can’t be good for me.”

“Nice seeing you too.”

“Yeah. What do you need now?”

“Information about a demon.”

His features hardened. “Don’t piss us off. We don’t like that.”

She gave him a droll stare. “If someone’s possessed by a demon, how do you get the demon out?”

“Call a priest.” He started away from her.

Aimee caught his arm and pulled him to a stop. His entire stance oozed impatience. “I’m serious, Xedrix. And this isn’t a human. It’s Fang. Have you any idea how much damage a demon could do in the body of a Were-Hunter?”

“Oh, a lot.” His tone was as dry as the Sahara. “Would definitely suck to be their victim.”

She didn’t appreciate his humor. “What can I do?”

“I’d leave town.”

“Xedrix!”

He lifted his hands in an exaggerated stance of hopeless innocence. “What do you want me to say? Rub his furry belly? I don’t even know what kind of demon has him. In case you haven’t noticed, there are hundreds of species of us. And you’re talking to a demon who comes from one of the nonpossessing kind. We kill whatever gets in our way. Or on our nerves.” He gave her a very pointed stare for emphasis on that. “Possession’s for . . .” His voice trailed off as he looked past her.

Aimee turned to see a gorgeous blond woman who was eyeing him irritably with her arms akimbo.

“You were about to say?” the female prompted.

“Uh . . . possession’s for really great demons who have . . . lots of powers.”

It was actually entertaining to watch him squirm. Obviously the blond woman meant a lot to him and he didn’t want to make her angry.

The blonde offered Aimee her hand. “I’m Kerryna and you would be?”

“Kyle’s sister,” Xedrix answered so quick Aimee realized that he and Kerryna must have a relationship close enough that he didn’t want Kerryna to mistake why he was talking to her. “Aimee. And she was just leaving.”

Aimee let go of Kerryna’s hand to correct him. “Not yet, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are. Adios. There’s the door. Doorknob twists to the left. The hinges open in. You should use them. Keep them working. Keep you breathing. We’re all happy here.”

Aimee sighed at his sarcastic tirade. Ignoring him, she tried Kerryna. “I have to know how to break a possession. Would you happen to have any kind of suggestions?”

Kerryna frowned. “What kind of demon?”

“I don’t know. Is there a difference?”

“Oh, definitely. There are those you can kill, those you can drive out, and those who become a permanent part of you. The latter, to quote Xedrix’s favorite phrase, really sucks.”

Aimee slid a glance at Xedrix, before she returned her attention to Kerryna. “How do I know what I have?”

“Take me to it.”

Xedrix made an inhuman sound of protest. “Oh, hell no.”

Kerryna gave him a chiding stare. “Xedrix . . .”

He immediately stepped back. “I know I’m Charonte and we defer to our females, but you have to respect the fact that I’m Charonte and we protect our females to the end. You be my female. I be protecting.”

Kerryna smiled at him. “Then come with us and stop whining.”

“I’m not whining.” He looked at Aimee as if he were contemplating her utter dismemberment. “Why is it every time I see you, you make me go someplace I don’t want to go? I guess I should be grateful that at least it’s not hell again.”

“Stop being a baby, demon. Let’s go see Fang.”

Xedrix screwed his face up in distaste. “What is it with you and that wolf anyway? Can’t we just shoot him and put him out of my misery?”

“I’d shoot you first.”

“At the rate we’re going, I wish you would.”

Kerryna smacked him playfully in the belly. “Be nice, Xed, or I’ll shoot you myself.”

“Yes, akra.”

Shaking her head at his sarcasm, Aimee took them back to where she’d left Fang in his room.

It was empty.

Xedrix crossed his arms over his chest. “Where is he?”

Frustrated and worried, Aimee searched the room with her gaze. The bed was still mussed, but the dresser and chest of drawers were perfect. Everything was as it had been, except for Fang’s presence. “I don’t know. He was curled up on the floor in pain when I left him.”

Kerryna went to the spot as if she somehow knew exactly where he’d been. Touching the floor, she gasped. “Oh, this is bad.”

Aimee’s heart sank to her feet at that dire tone. “What?”

“He’s possessed by a primus. A powerful primus.”

Aimee wasn’t sure what that was, but the tone said it wasn’t good. “Can you get the demon out?”

“I don’t know.” Kerryna stood up again. “If I had my sisters, I could. But alone . . . I just don’t know.”

“Then what do we do?”

Xedrix was the one who answered. “Kill him.”

“Xedrix!” Aimee snapped.

“What?” He gave her a look of innocence that would have been comical had it not been Fang’s life they were discussing. “Wolves make good eats. Not as tasty as other things, but they’re not bad. And add on hot sauce. I could make do.”

Wanting to serve him up at Sanctuary, she looked at Kerryna. “I can track him and find him.” Aimee closed her eyes and thought of Fang.

But for once, nothing was there.

Nothing.

How could this be? Her powers were godlike. She could always track. Yet there was no sign of him anywhere. It was almost like he was dead.

That mere thought was enough to make her want to collapse. You’re stronger than that. . . .

Aimee faced them with a steadiness she didn’t feel. “I can’t find him.”

Kerryna looked back to the floor. “He’s a powerful demon. I’m sure he can mask his essence from anyone except a god.”

“Then what do we do?”

Xedrix shrugged. His ambivalence was getting on her last nerve.

Narrowing her eyes, Kerryna tapped her chin. “Menyara, I think.”

Aimee frowned at a term she’d never heard before. “Is that some kind of funky ceremony?”

Kerryna laughed. “No, it’s a person. She lives here in New Orleans and is the one who helped me when I first arrived. I think if anyone can help you, she’s the one.” She turned a pointed stare at Xedrix. “Since you can’t stand her, surely you’ll let me go there alone?”

He brought his left fist to his right shoulder and bowed mockingly. “Yes, akra. Your pleasure is ever my misery.”

Kerryna snorted. “I’ll remember that tonight when you want to come to bed.”

He looked horrified by her threat. “It was a joke, baby. I didn’t mean a word of it.”

She patted him adoringly on the cheek. “We’ll see.”

Aimee barely had time to focus before Kerryna took her out of Fang’s room to a small shack of a bright blue house. Even in the darkness, the blue stood out. Colorful, but ubiquitous in design, it looked like any of a hundred row houses in New Orleans’ French Quarter. White lace curtains peeked out from under thick white shutters. It hardly looked like the abode of someone who could defeat a powerful demon.

But if Hello Kitty attacked—watch out!

Kerryna knocked on the door.

After a brief pause, a beautiful African American woman opened it to smile at them. Her long curly hair framed a face that was elegant and exotic. Dressed in a bright yellow sweater that matched the headband she used to hold her hair off her forehead, and jeans, she possessed an aura of fierce power that rippled on the air around them.

There was no doubt that this woman could take on a demon and win.

“Kerry-bell? Who you bring to Menyara’s door, child?” She held her hand out to Aimee. “Come in, ma petite bearswan, and make yourself at home.”

Eyes wide, Aimee passed a trepidatious glance at Kerryna. “How do you know who I am?” she asked Menyara.

A slow smile curved her lips and wrinkled her nose. “I know much about this world, child. Both seen and unseen. Now come, there’s a warm pot of Egyptian chamomile tea waiting with lots of honey.”

Aimee followed her into the small house that was decorated like the inside of an Egyptian pyramid. Statues of the gods lined the mantel that reminded her more of an altar. Papyrus paintings lined the walls. Decorated with black, golds, and browns, the house had a homey feel to it. Like walking into a beloved grandmother’s house.

Aimee took a seat on the small armchair as Kerryna sat down on the couch while Menyara poured their tea.

Kerryna took a cup from her hand. “I’m sure you know why we’re here.”

Menyara held the teapot lid as she poured a cup for Aimee. “I do indeed. But there is much in flux right now. Powers aligning and repelling.” She handed the cup to Aimee. “You have made a most powerful enemy, chère. One who will stop at nothing to see you dead.”

“I don’t care about that. It’s Fang I’m worried about.”

She inclined her head before she poured her own cup. “He walks a shadowy line of deceit. But it is not my place to tell you what he has done. Only he can do that.”

“What do you mean?”

Menyara spread her hand out and a perfect ball of fire appeared in the air in front of her face. “We all create things by our wills.” She waved her hand over the fireball to make it grow larger. “Every action we take shapes our creations.” She cut the ball in half with her bare hand and it dissolved into embers that extinguished on the carpet. “And it can destroy them.”

Maybe she was dense, but Aimee didn’t see a connection with that fireball and what was happening with Fang. “That’s all fine and good, but—”

“There is no but, child. Fang is on his course. He must see it through.”

Well, bully for her, but from what she’d seen he was having a really hard time of it. “Can’t I help?”

“No. There is nothing to be done. Only he can defeat the demon within.”

“There’s no exorcism?”

Menyara knelt on the floor in front of Aimee and took her hands into hers and held them. “Inside us all are pieces of that which makes the negative.” She glanced at Kerryna over her shoulder. “Demons are neither good nor bad. Like you, they have many facets. It is that inner essence or drive, if you will, that we all have that guides us through our lives. Sometimes those voices that drive us are whispered memories that live deep inside and cause us such pain that we have no choice except to let it out and to hurt those around us. But at other times, the voice is love and compassion, and it guides us to a gentler place. In the end, we, alone, must choose what path to walk. No one can help us with it.”

Aimee shook her head. “I don’t believe that. Our paths collided with each other for a reason. Like you with the ball. One move and we can take that hate and pain away.”

Menyara patted her hand. “Now you’re thinking, child. But remember, it is a powerful demon inside him. One who is hungry for blood fire and he will not easily be appeased. Look in your heart and you will see truth.”

Kerryna clanged her cup on the saucer at those words. “You told me the heart blinds us.”

Menyara laughed at Kerryna. “It does indeed.” She pulled a ring from her finger and held it out to Aimee. “Wear this, child. It will protect you.”

“From what?”

“When the time comes, you will know.”

Aimee looked down at the garnet that was so dark it appeared black. Set in an antique setting of gold latticework, it was beautiful. “Your vagueness reminds me of a man named Acheron Parthenopaeus. You two wouldn’t happen to be related, would you?”

She laughed. “We are old friends and like me Acheron knows when the truth will only hurt. You must find your own way in this. By the very laws of the universe, I’m forbidden to intervene.”

“Oh, goody. Thanks.” Aimee slid the ring on, then paused. “I’m sorry, Manyara. I don’t mean to seem ungrateful.”

“I know, child. Have no fear. Now it is getting late and you should return home. Your wolf will come to you when the time is right for it to be so.”

Aimee nodded, then said good night to the two of them. And here she’d been thinking to spend a quiet early-morning cuddle session with Fang. Instead, she was terrified for him.

Flashing back to her own room, she heard a lot of animated talking downstairs in the foyer. What on earth? It was late and most of the staff should be done for the night.

Curious, she opened the door and went to the stairs. There below was her entire family, along with Jasyn, Max, Colt, Carson, and Justin. As she descended the stairs, she heard their discussion.

“So what did the police say?”

“He was one of three killed tonight. They’re thinking it’s gang-related, but since Stu is a Dark-Hunter Squire, he knows better. He said it looked more like a demon attack.”

Aimee stumbled on the last stair.

“You a’right?” Dev asked.

“Just testing gravity.”

Laughing, he shook his head.

Aimee straightened up, then joined them. “What are you guys talking about?”

“Greg, the Arcadian panther who’d come in two days ago, was found dead in an alley over on Royal Street. There were two more bodies found in Exchange Place. Those human.”

Kyle gave her an evil smirk. “They were all drained completely of blood so the cops are thinking vampires.”

She scowled. “Daimon kills?”

“No,” her father said in a grave tone. “They still had their souls. This was a demon only wanting blood.”

And Aimee could only think of one demon new to the city who had been dying for blood.

The one inside Fang. . . .

Date: 2015-02-28; view: 684