Demon by My Side Page 14

  Taking the bracelet, she wrapped it around her wrist before she could change her mind.

  Her vision blurred for a moment as dizziness swamped her. She felt weaker, more human. Jaral’s magic was no longer coursing in her veins and now she was back to being…ordinary.

  Which meant she needed to be long gone by the time he woke up.

  With a last look at the man she shouldn’t love, Darcy grabbed her bag and left the room.

  * * *

  He had fought through century-long wars. He had been overlooked for a throne rightfully his for lifetimes. He had been betrayed by family, friends, lovers. But never had Jaral felt such blinding rage as he did when he opened his eyes and realized Darcy had left him. Again.

  “Calm down,” a voice said from the cell gripped in his hand.

  “Like hell I will,” he snarled. “She left me.”

  “That will teach you to fall asleep beside a woman,” Liam pointed out. “Seriously, how has it taken you this long to learn that lesson?”

  “I never sleep when there is someone else in my bed,” he snapped. “Darcy just…” He sighed. Darcy was just his exception. To everything.

  “Well, as I see it you have two choices.”

  “Which are?” he growled.

  “Stay where you are and let the chips fall as they may. Maybe your girl will pull it off and you’ll never have to choose between her and the king. The decision will be made by the time you get back.”

  It was a coward’s way out and held about as much appeal as another dose of one of Darcy’s potions.

  “And door number two?”

  “Get back here and help her.” He paused. “Or stop her.”

  “She left me. I very much doubt she wants my help.”

  Liam chuckled softly in the background. “Do you blame her?”

  “She should have trusted me.”

  “Really? So you are one hundred percent certain that when you face Abaddon again you will tell him you don’t want to be heir, don’t want the position you’ve fought for your entire life, because of a woman you’ve known for days?”

  Jaral gritted his teeth.

  “Because if you are not perfectly sure of that decision, how can you expect your mate to be?”

  “When did you become the voice of reason?”

  “You know I’m right.”

  Jaral sighed as he looked around the room he’d decimated. A shattered mirror hung lopsided on the wall. Burn marks scorched the walls and carpet. The drapes had been shredded by sharp claws. The only thing that hadn’t been touched was the bed. How did she walk away from the passion they’d experienced last night? How could she wake up and throw him away? He growled at the thought.

  “This is why I have no desire to find my mate,” Liam said. “You are a cautionary tale.”

  “Shut it. How the hell do I beat her back to the city?”

  “Surely you have some talent that could come in handy right about now.”

  “The only way I’ll make up her head start is with a portal and I can’t create them. Do you know anyone in the area who can?”

  “I know everyone,” came the flippant reply. “Including a devlen demon two towns over who can open portals. What will you give me for his name?”

  Jaral rubbed the bridge of his nose. Indebted to the infamous Liam Greyal, all for the sake of a woman. How his brethren would laugh if they could see him now.

  “A future favor,” he said, knowing it was the only thing Liam would accept.

  “Granted.” Liam sounded downright cheerful. Never a good sign. “I’ve been trying to get you in my debt for centuries, Jaral. Have you accepted yet that only for your mate would you take such a risk?”

  For his mate. His other half. A human woman who wouldn’t trust him, who was afraid to love him. A woman who had screamed her pleasure in his arms and allowed him to feel, just for a moment, a peace he’d never known existed. Right before she’d run from him.

  “What would you choose, Liam, your mate or your throne?”

  Silence greeted his question. “That’s a choice I’m glad I’ll never have to make, my friend.”

  “Give me the damn name and get me home,” Jaral said. “I have a score to settle with my hunter.”

  And a decision to make that would alter his life. One way or another.

  * * *

  “We should have waited,” Cailin whispered as they made their way toward the warehouse by the docks.

  “There’s no time,” Darcy replied. “Jaral won’t be far behind me. I can’t be more than a few hours ahead of him.”

  “There wasn’t enough time for Blake to sound the alert. Only a few hunters will be able to make it in time.”

  “Doesn’t matter. As long as we manage to toss this blood on the rift everything else is gravy.”

  “Says you. I plan on living through the night.”

  Ahead of them the warehouse came into view. Darcy scanned the shadows for demons or spirits but nothing sent up a red flag.

  “I thought you said this place was being watched.”

  “It was,” Cailin replied. “Since you left there’s been a demon presence here. We’ve had hunters on this place round the clock, trying to kill off any spirits that leaked through. I don’t think we were entirely successful.”

  “We can track the spirits down after this portal is shut.”

  Cailin grabbed her cell and typed out a quick text. “I’m letting Blake know we’re headed in. He needs to speed up that cavalry.”

  Together they raced across the road, trying to keep to the shadows to hide their progress.

  “This isn’t right,” Darcy hissed.

  “Do you have a better idea?”

  “Use your spidey senses.”

  Cailin closed her eyes for a moment before shaking her head. “Nothing.”

  “Good.”

  “No, nothing at all. I can’t pick up anything and I should at least be getting a tingle in a place like this. Something is blocking me.”

  “What?”

  “Someone with similar abilities, I suppose. At least we know we’re not alone.”

  Darcy fingered the syringe in her pocket. All they needed was to get close enough to smash it over the portal. Cailin might want to live through the night but Darcy was far less optimistic.

  Dark eyes flashed through her mind and she allowed herself a moment of regret. If she didn’t survive this she’d never be able to make things right with Jaral. He’d never know what their night together had meant to her, what he meant.

  She shook her head to clear it. Now was not the time for second guesses. She had a job to do.

  “Come on,” she whispered, ducking through the side door.

  Cailin followed close behind as they made their way as silently as possible to the main room. As they walked through the dark hallways, every hair at the back of her neck stood on end. Something was far from right.

  “Ready?” she mouthed as they reached the end of the hall.

  Cailin drew her gun and nodded.

  She eased the door open and stepped out into the large, empty warehouse floor. It looked just as cavernous as it had the first time she’d come here. In the center of the room she could see the black stain on the stone ground marking the spot where Kerilyn had died before her lover had brought her back.

  “Are we alone?” Cailin whispered.

  “No.” Darcy’s gaze locked on a moving shadow in the corner.

  The figure stepped closer, into the moonlight streaming through the upper windows, and revealed a face she’d hoped not to see until this was over.

  “Jaral,” she murmured.

  He moved forward until he was between her and the rift. “Hello, Darcy,” he replied. “I warned you not to run twice.”

  She lifted her chin and tried to ignore the way her heart shriveled and died at the coldness of his voice. “You know I’d do anything to see this mission fulfilled.”

  “Yes.”

  “Just as you promised
me you would. Step aside, Jaral, and let me close the portal.”

  The demon didn’t move.

  “Hell,” she heard Cailin whisper at her side.

  Darcy ignored her and stepped forward. “What are you doing, Jaral?”

  “There is more at play here than you know.”

  She nodded, fingering the dagger at her side. “That’s not news. But I want to know why you are standing between me and our goal when you promised you were on my side.”

  “Just as you promised we were partners?” he mocked. “Sometimes agreements must be broken.”

  “Why?”

  “Because, girl, when push comes to shove, demons always side with their own.”

  Darcy turned to see the new speaker. Her heart stopped. The new man stood tall, almost as tall as Jaral. He bore a startling resemblance to Kerilyn’s spirit lover, with the same long black hair and unearthly beauty. But unlike the spirit lord, this man’s eyes were bloodred. Only one demon in the history books fit his description.

  “Abaddon,” she greeted.

  “We’ve been waiting for you, hunter,” the demon king said. “You’re late.”

  Darcy’s gaze flicked to Jaral’s unreadable face then back to his father. “My invitation must have been misplaced.”

  “No matter. You’re here now. Hand over the blood and I might even let you leave this place alive.”

  “I don’t think so,” she replied. “I see two demons and two hunters. Those are odds I like.”

  The king grinned, but there was nothing comforting in the gesture. “Count again.” He snapped his fingers.

  Like a curtain being drawn back, the air before them shimmered before giving way to reveal the dark figures lurking behind the king. Demons filled the large room. From wall to wall they shuffled behind their king, awaiting orders.

  These demons were obviously not as powerful as Jaral or his father. Many weren’t even close to looking human. Instead the creatures looked more like trolls with their long arms dragging on the concrete and their vicious teeth jutting from black lips. Their skin was dark and scaled, tufts of hair sprouted in patches around their heads and shoulders. No, these creatures were not the sophisticated demons of court but the brute force of Abaddon’s armies. They watched her with hungry expressions, ready for a fight.

  “With the magic between our worlds splintering, it was a simple matter to bring my soldiers over. Even I was able to break through despite the absence of a Halloween night,” Abaddon said with ill-concealed glee. “Now let’s try this again. The blood, if you please.”

  “Why do you want it?”

  “My son has informed me of your mission to close the rift but I have decided I’d rather rip it open.”

  Horror flooded through her. “That’s insane. The spirits would be free.”

  “Yes, and a gate to their realm would be vulnerable. I will march right through and take on my cursed brother once and for all.”

  And humans would be wiped out as a bloody war waged between the spirits and demons.

  “The blood closes the rift,” she said.

  “The blood is a catalyst,” Abaddon replied easily. “Like magic, it’s neither good nor evil. It is intention that gives it shape. With the right spell, Kerilyn’s blood will rip the rift wide open instead of slamming it shut. That’s why it was so important to ensure you would procure it for us.”

  She knew Abaddon was the bigger threat but even so, her eyes turned to Jaral. Had he played her from the start? Had everything that passed between them been a lie? All to get his hands on the blood.

  Nausea spiraled through her. She was the one who had found Sarah. She was the one who had convinced Kerilyn to give up some of her blood. If Darcy had kept out of it, Jaral would never have known where to look.

  He’d done exactly what she’d always feared he would. He’d found her weakness and used it against her. Her desire had turned her into his puppet and she’d been more than happy to dance to his tune.

  The betrayal overwhelmed her, making it hard to breathe. She’d fallen for a demon when all he’d wanted was a tool to control. The soft touches, the heated glances and perfect words had all been a lie. Nothing they’d shared was real. He’d used her passions to spin a flawless web of deceit. It was her own fault she’d been caught up in it.

  Had she ever been more to him than his human distraction? A toy to play with while he worked on his real mission? Looking at his blank expression, it was easy to imagine just that. She wasn’t facing her tender lover but instead a hardened warrior ready to cut her down without a single moment’s hesitation.

  “Congratulations, Jaral,” she said, wishing the words didn’t sound bitter even to her own ears. “You fooled me perfectly.”

  He didn’t react. Not so much as a twitch.

  “What did you expect?” Abaddon asked, walking forward. “He’s a demon. A prince of my realm.”

  “You’re right,” she agreed. “Blood always tells.”

  A slight frown marred Jaral’s face before vanishing in an instant.

  “Now, then, pet, hand over the blood and let’s be done with this.” Abaddon’s smile was chilling.

  Darcy glanced to Cailin. Her stark expression told the tale. They were out of options. Hand over the blood and Abaddon would no doubt cut them down. Try to keep it and battle a roomful of demons single-handedly.

  They were dead.

  “Sorry, Your Majesty,” she said, turning back to the king. “But hunters never yield. I accepted a mission and I will see it through or die trying.”

  “Die trying it is,” Abaddon said with a clap of his hands. “Jaral, get my blood for me.”

  Darcy inhaled sharply. Nameless demons she could slice through, but her lover?

  Jaral strode forward without hesitation. Seeing his determination, she pushed down her shredded heart. Jaral was no easy opponent and she needed to be on her game or he’d crush her in seconds.

  Drawing her daggers, she stepped farther into the room to meet him. Cailin kept pace at her side, gun armed and ready.

  “Guess you knew we were heading here, right, Jaral?” Darcy said.

  “If you had trusted me, Darcy, things might have worked out differently.”

  She flinched at her name. It reminded her of the way he’d whispered it in bed.

  Flames erupted on his palms, reminding her she’d forfeited her protection from his magic. That fire would burn her just as easily as it would anyone else.

  Cailin raised her gun but before she could fire a shot, a new voice broke through their gathering.

  “Hold a moment, nephew,” Arawn said. “The hunters are not as outnumbered as you believe.”

  Darcy watched as Arawn and Kerilyn strode into the warehouse, spirits at their backs.

  “Seriously?” Cailin whispered. “What now?”

  “Darcy, you okay?” Kerilyn demanded.

  She looked far from the ethereal queen Darcy had met days ago. Now she was dressed as a hunter, her hair pulled back in a tight braid and her clothes dark and formfitting. Knives decorated her body, two finding homes in her hands.

  “Fine,” Darcy called. “What side are you on?”

  Kerilyn grinned. “Trust me, Arawn and I had quite the chat after we left you. I want this rift closed. Now.”

  “And I’d rather avoid drawing the human world into our private war, brother,” Arawn called. “If you’d like to finish what we started in this very warehouse last Halloween, I’m more than happy to humor you.”

  Abaddon bared his teeth. “Careful, Arawn. I took your little queen from you once already. I’ll do it again.”

  A cool smile twisted Kerilyn’s lips. “Try it.”

  “Jaral,” Abaddon ordered, “get that blood. The rest of you, bring me the spirit queen’s head.”

  With those words, the world around them erupted into chaos.

  Chapter Twelve

  Demons rushed forward only to clash against the wave of spirits. For a second everything seemed to move in s
low motion. Claws flashed, teeth gnashed. Cailin brushed past Darcy to join the fray and time snapped back into place.

  Screams flooded Darcy’s ears and the scent of blood and death assailed her. Gripping her daggers, she surged forward.

  Red eyes shone around her as she drove her knives toward any inch of flesh she could see. Within seconds dark blood coated her hands. She fought and ducked, twirling out of the way of black claws. Cailin was lost somewhere in the battle but Darcy didn’t even have time to look around for her friend. Hopefully the hunter knew how to take care of herself.

  Pain flared across her shoulder blades and she dropped to the ground, spinning low. The demon who had attacked her screeched in agony as she slashed through its kneecaps. When it crashed to the ground she thrust a knife through its heart. The creature’s death cry was loud in her ears as she surged back to her feet.

  Wet drops of blood trickled down her back, seeping through her shirt and plastering it to her skin. Darcy didn’t waste time wondering how bad it was. She needed to get to the rift. If she could just battle her way there, it wouldn’t matter what happened after.

  But there was no end to the wave of demons around her. She fought past flying limbs and grasping hands but there was never room to take a breath. Her arms were growing heavy as she fought without any respite. If she stopped, she died.

  Something wet ran down her neck and she didn’t know if it was blood or sweat. How badly had she been hurt in this battle? Adrenaline was surging through her veins, giving her power to fight but also masking the extent of her injuries. She needed help. Fast.

  Once again, however, it seemed the universe was determined to mock her.

  The demons parted to reveal their prince striding toward her.

  Darcy’s breath caught at the sight. She’d known Jaral was dangerous but seeing him in the midst of battle, blood covering his broadsword, was far more intimidating than she’d ever imagined. How had she ever thought his man was capable of gentleness?

  He growled at the demons creeping up on her and they immediately moved back to give them a small circle of space.

  Tightening her grip on her daggers, she wondered how she could survive this. If Jaral meant business, all he’d have to do was land a single finger on her to send her up in flames.