Defying Instinct (Demon Instinct Series) (10 page)

“Yes,
but everyone can hear you.  You have no control.  It’s like cannon fodder,” then
Grayson made a bursting noise and used his hands to indicate scattershot. 

You
can all hear me?
I asked, looking
around, startled.

“Yup,”
Grayson said.

Rowan
didn’t turn, but mumbled, “Uh hum.” 

“Loud
and clear,” was yelled down the stairs from my apartment.  Cy could hear me
from that far away? 
That
was disturbing. 

I
looked at Benn, who gave me the kind of look only people who knew each other
for a long time could detect.  He was saying there was something he needed to
tell me, but not until we were alone.  I returned the look with one of my own,
then turned to Grayson.

“So,
what?  You want to train me or something?”

The
Tempter inhaled deeply, as if what he was going to say upset him.  “Not me.”

“With
who then?”

Rowan
snarled, and I sniggered because his constant, broody agitation was starting to
feel like a challenge to see how often I could aggravate him…until I realized
what the snarl meant this time.

Rowan
hates me.  Don’t make him spend time with me.

All
three demons, and Benn—I was willing to bet that was what he was going to tell
me—had heard.

“It
has to be Rowan.  Tempters and Razers can already telepath with ease.  And
Cyrus is bonded to me as my aide.  Rowan is your best option.” 
And you seem
to be able to telepath to him comfortably.
  Grayson sounded apologetic, as
if, if he had a choice, he’d rather I didn’t spend any time alone with Rowan.

“Is
that not always the case?” I asked aloud, not bothering to telepath since I
didn’t know who would pick up the transmission.

“Some
castes are more difficult.”  He gestured towards Rowan.  “Some individuals are
more difficult.  There’s no general rule.”

“But
you need to learn not to project, at the very least,” this, not surprisingly,
from Rowan, who was positively fixated on my projecting.

I
wondered why it bothered him so much, to know my feelings.  Maybe he thought
emotions showed weakness.  And my emotions had become not only strong, but explosive.

“I
think they have a point, Sav,” Benn said, and I could tell there was something
else to his words, to his siding with the Tempter.  “Telepathy is your thing. 
You outta learn to…control it.”

Considering
the logic and knowing I could trust Benn’s judgment, I nodded, “Yeah, you’re
right.”

“I
said the same exact thing,” Grayson whined, and I couldn’t tell if he was
playing around or being serious.

I
was starting to think Grayson was kind of a brat.

But
the Tempter I’d known for three days and who had done nothing but fail at
seducing me had no right thinking his opinion mattered.

“
You
spend over a decade by my side, keeping me sane?  Then I might consider what
you say valuable too.”  I looked him up and down with unimpressed eyes, and
Rowan chuckled low in his throat even before I added, “Maybe.”

Rowan
and I stared at each other, arms folded across our chests, as far from each
other as possible.  I leaned against one wall of my living room.  He stood
rigid near the opposite one, near the door. 

We’d
been at this for close to an hour.  And more than once, his eyes were drawn to
the door as if he were considering making a break for it.

Bored,
my mind wandered. 

I
wondered how long it would be before I could get The Bookstore back in running
condition.  Helped that I had three, inexhaustible, super-humanly strong demons
fixing what I’d damaged at no cost.  But there was still stuff to be done, and
I hadn’t done what I knew I needed to yet.

Tomorrow,
I decided.  Time to get back to work.

I
thought about the lady who kept calling me missy.  Did Dad get his messages
before Benn came back and told him I’d been abducted by a Royal advisor?  I’d
have to ask him and track her down if he didn’t.

I
hoped my new, crying-prone self didn’t get in the way of my job.  People could
be mean, but I had to be able to handle it.

And
Benn was going to return after school, because it was Thursday and
Demon
History and Defense
was tonight.  Maybe having Grayson, Rowan and Cy around
would
satisfy
his curiosity until next week and
we could skip it this time.

But
I doubted it.  We’d never missed Dmitri’s class before, even when Benn had
strep throat a few months ago.

Out
of the blue, I was desperate to know how I was capable of destroying so much of
The Bookstore in such a short amount of time.  Overwhelming curiosity demanded
I discover the truth, even though I feared seeing the monster capable of so
much devastation.

“You,”
Rowan finally spoke, “are the worst projector I’ve ever witnessed.  Even
younglings and the newly-made are not as bad as you.”

Maybe
I wasn’t ready to see the monster I’d become, because I was awfully thankful
for Rowan’s distraction.  Even if it was a snide one.

I
tilted my head.  “Newly-made.  Isn’t that kind of what I am?”

“No,”
Rowan grunted.  “You already were.  Newly-made are not Razer younglings. 
Neither are you a youngling, even if you have just realized what you are.”

“I’ve
always known I was a half-caste,” I said defensively.  I may have been a weird
case, but I’d always known what I was.  Dad made sure of it.

But
that wasn’t what Rowan was talking about.  It was the lifting of my glamour
that changed everything.  Scion or not, it was my glamourless condition showing
me what I really was.

That
wasn’t what I wanted to dwell on right now.  Rowan was talking.  And I knew how
to get him to tell me things.

Why
can I telepath with you?

Without
hesitation, “You are Scion.  The blood in your veins that is shared with your
mother connects you to demonkind.  When Royals take over, there is a blood
bonding ceremony, called a Blooding that each caste submits to under penalty of
war.  Because of this, you are no longer limited by caste.”

“But
I can’t telepath with you,” I said, trying to make sense of it.

The
deliberate glare he seared across the room had me shaking my head, and I
snapped, “What?”

“We’re
not having a chat here, girl.  This is training.”

He
waited, almost preposterously patiently until I got it.  Finally, I telepathed,
I can’t telepath with you.  Only at you.  I get impressions, general…I
wouldn’t say feelings, but something, and—

“Consider
yourself like a radio.  You can broadcast to any demon, but not receive.  You are
only able to receive from Razers and Tempters.  Whatever impressions you’re
getting from me are likely in your head.”

He
was wrong.  I didn’t know how to describe what it was, but I knew I was getting
some sort of reception from Rowan.  Grayson and Cyrus too, but Rowan more.  He
could believe anything he wanted.  I knew what I felt.

What
good does it do to transmit and not receive?

“Because
you’re Scion.  Your subjects need to receive your commands until you are
Blooded completely.”

Mmm,
they didn’t get to question anything.  Royalty gives the orders, and their
subjects obey.  I hated that.  No part of me felt like the Scion.  It was still
ridiculous to even consider.  But if I were, I sure wasn’t going to be
that
kind of Scion.

“Why
Tempters too?”

Rowan
raised his eyebrows in a silent question.

Ugh! 
Why can I telepath with Grayson when he’s not a Razer?

“Razers
and Tempters share a common ancestor.  But Tempters chose the way of the body,
while your caste chose the way of the mind.”

But
the endgame was all the same.  Whether it came from sex and lust, or domination
and cunning, they ultimately wanted the same thing.  Knowledge.  Power. 
Sorcerers wanted power too, but they looked so different from other castes, I
could believe they were a different species. 

I
thought of Hadrian’s beady, black eyes and piranha teeth, and shivered.

Reapers
had a more specialized interest.  They harvested souls for their Empress, but
had no larger aspirations.  Mischief demons didn’t seem to care about much
except for enjoying themselves.  They had no evil motivations, but they did
often use humans as their source of entertainment. 
Use
being the
operative word.  And Hammers did as they were told.  They rarely acted alone,
without orders coming from another caste.  Though they may have been the best
fighters, they were ultimately controllable.

“Pity
projecting has no usefulness.  You’d win awards.”

Without
letting his remark bother me, I wondered,
so Royalty can telepath with their
advisors?  Just them, or all demons?

“The
reason you’re a one-way radio is you have not been through the Blooding
ceremony yourself.  Your mother’s blood connects you on a basic level.  When
you personally blood bond with a member of all six castes, then you’ll be able
to telepath with all demonkind, through the connection with your advisors.”

Considering
this, I absently said, “I never liked the term advisor.  Sounds so…political.”

“Isn’t
it though?”

“Do
demons consider the Royal position a political one?”

“I’m
not sure.  Do you consider human royalty a political position?”

“They
can make decisions that influence the country.”

“Is
that all it takes in human politics?”

I
shrugged, questioning if the definition and job description of a position that
held ultimate ‘realm power mattered.  I decided it didn’t. 

“What
about the Royal advisors?  What purpose do they even serve other than
connecting the Royal to demonkind?”

“Whether
their involvement is seen or not, they are a Royal’s right hand, their trusted
council.”

“Not
very trustworthy if one of Iliana’s advisors went blabbing to Faction about
me.”

Rowan’s
tone changed to something I hadn’t heard from him before when he said, “You
know, Faction isn’t…all bad.  I have friends who live there.”

“Faction
is a place?” I asked, keeping my other question—Rowan had friends?—to myself. 
“Like, somewhere we could visit?”

“It’s
not the safest place for you, but if they were trying to kill you, I believe
they would have succeeded when Hadrian lifted your glamour.”

“That’s
what I was thinking too,” I smiled.  I actually
smiled
at Rowan.  And it
didn’t feel wrong.  “What if I wanted to go some day?”

“If…
big
if
…I…or some demon…were to take you, you’d need safe passage from one who
lives there.  Only a member of Faction can be a true guard for you.”

As
my brain raced with the idea, I rambled, “Where is it?  What’s it like?  Have
you been there?  Why did you act like it was some sinister society out to
assassinate me before?”

When
my questions went unanswered, I realized, maybe at the same time Rowan did,
that we’d stopped training at some point and slipped into an actual
conversation.  For the first time, I’d felt like the Hammer didn’t hate me. 

He
was so open.  There didn’t seem to be any ulterior motives in him like there was
in Grayson.  Wasn’t reluctant to tell me things half-castes wouldn’t normally
know.  Rowan gave straight answers to questions, even looked me in the eye, once
he let himself relax a little.

Rowan
relaxed had been something I’d completely missed, and that disappointed me. 
When had he lowered his arms?  Softened his stare?  Quirked his mouth into a casual
grin?  And, had his words seemed…excited?

But
that was all gone now.  Back was his defensive posture, his evasive eyes.  And
he was backing ever so slowly away from me.  We’d been stepping closer as we
spoke, and when he stopped talking, only then did I see he was only a few feet
away.

Gotta
take what I can get from you, huh?
I
telepathed without censoring the thought, and struggled with an odd, fluttering
sensation in my belly.

Rowan’s
ears went crimson, his neck a little pink instead of the normal, sun-kissed tan,
and I couldn’t help but let the sides of my mouth rise.  Self-conscious was a
good look for him.

And
that flutter thing happened again.

As I
was about to say something, or telepath something I might regret later, Grayson
appeared in the open doorway, obviously reading my projected emotions—even
though I wasn’t even sure what I was feeling.

Your
purity, you wear it like armor.  As you become more knowledgeable in the ways
of the flesh…ahh, you will be a worthy female to pursue.

As
he telepathed, the private, practically intimate thoughts made me go red, my pulse
kick up, but it wasn’t because of Grayson like the demons would probably read
it.

What
the Tempter said aloud was, “I like the colors of your home, Savannah.”

Tempter
tricks. 

“Yeah,
I think I clash now,” I said, feigning lightness, looking down at my golden brown
skin and my copper and gold flecked fingernails.

“No,
no.  You stand out, no longer fade into your surroundings.  Like you were meant
to.”

“What
did I tell you about that?” My eyes snapped up from my fingernails to his face.
“Don’t be nice to me.”

“Does
that request still apply?  I thought perhaps, since—”

“Since
what?  Nothing’s changed.”

“You
have changed, Savannah.  You want me now.  I can tell you feel my thrall.”

“Your
thrall
?  Okay, Dracula.  Maybe putting that comparison in my head wasn’t
your slickest move.”  I considered my emotional-prone disposition, my temper
which had doubled within a few days, and knew the male willing to pursue me
would have to be an extremely patient creature.  “Besides, you couldn’t handle
me.  I’m gonna go with the phrase, biting off more than you can chew.”

“Mmm,
I do like to bite.”

In a
vicious tone, I snapped, “Don’t tempt me, Tempter.”

At
that, Rowan jumped away.  I’d been looking directly at him.  There was no
sound, no effort, no distortion of the air around him.  Nothing to warn me of
his departure or suggest where he had been.  He was there one second, and gone
the next.

Satisfied
with yourself?
I accused Grayson,
recognizing something had been exchanged between the males while Grayson baited
me.

Always
, the Tempter telepathed back with a wolfish smile.

But
when he spoke aloud, his words were velvet and silk, and borderline formal. “I’ve
come to inform you your human male has returned bearing coffee.”

Because
I was anxious to see Benn, or because I was desperate to get away from being
alone in a room with Grayson, I shooed him out the door, locked it behind
me—even though I knew the Hammer demons could jump in without effort
whatsoever—and raced down the stairs.

Rowan
stood, looking up at me with badly-veiled, questioning eyes as he said, “We
will return to our training, girl.”

Hell
yeah, we would.  I was going to get this down so fast, grumpy Rowan with his
lack of faith in me would even be impressed.  I did not want every demon in the
general vicinity to be keyed into everything I was feeling.  And since I was
feeling so much, and as Grayson crassly pointed out, my lack of experience was
projected right along with my emotions, I needed to get this down.  And fast.

I
would
succeed.

As
Rowan read my projections, he smiled a full smile for the briefest second, and in
awe, I fell down the last stair.