Defying Instinct (Demon Instinct Series) (15 page)

Silence. 

“I
don’t know how you saw her so clearly before,” Rowan’s voice struck me.  I
hadn’t expected him to join in on a conversation, especially not one about me. 
“After her glamour was lifted, you compared her temper to a sparkler on the
Fourth of July.  You had it exactly right.  White hot and pure, but temporary. 
And contained.  It’s a thing of beauty, that temper of hers.” He cleared his
throat.  “But how did you see it?  She was…less before.”

“She
wasn’t less,” all sharp defensiveness.  I wanted to rush out and hug Benn for
defending me, but stayed where I was, vaguely wondering if my projections were
going to alert them to my eavesdropping.  “Savvy was just…hard to read if you
didn’t speak her language.”

“And
now everything she feels is on display for all of demonkind,” this from Cy,
sounding worried.

“Is…is
she improving?” Benn reluctantly asked.

“Not
enough,” Rowan barked.  “It needs to fall into place, and that hasn’t happened
yet.” 

“She
says you haven’t even told her how—”

“It’s
different for each individual,” Rowan muttered, then said in a clearer tone,
“Honestly, I don’t even think she’s trying to keep from projecting.”

Nope,
they couldn’t feel my projections now.  They wouldn’t be talking about me like
this if they could.  A smile spread as I wondered if I figured out how to
contain my projections without realizing it.  I imagined strolling downstairs,
having figured it out, and the look on Rowan’s face…

“Maybe…maybe
she can’t,” Benn said meekly, and my smile dropped.  “Like she keeps saying,
there’s never been a half-caste Scion.  Maybe she can’t…stop it.”

There
was a heavy silence as the males considered this.  I considered it too.  If my
every emotion was out there for all to feel, if my every telepath was forever open
for anyone’s mental ears, there would only be one choice. 

I’d
have to stop telepathing, and cut off my emotions again—if I even could.

No,
I’d have to.  Sick aches made me wrap my arms around myself.

I’d
have to close myself off, shut myself down.  Forfeit this pounding in my chest
of love for Benn’s supportive words, surrender this twist in my stomach at the
idea that these three males cared enough to discuss my fate.  I’d lose the
enjoyment of rejecting Grayson.  I’d have to give up touch, give up the thrill
it gave me to make Rowan grin.  Part ways with joy, with easy laughter, with
everything I’d only just discovered was the stuff that made life…good.

“No,”
Rowan’s commanding voice stopped my heart.  “She will appear weak, childlike,
less
than
if she can’t master these things.  She will not survive her mother. 
She will not survive the ‘realm.”

Silence
again, but my lower lip trembled.  I needed to go back to my apartment so I
could cry.  I needed to lose it.  Again.

Rowan’s
opinion mattered.  More than I realized.  And he didn’t think I was strong
enough to survive.  I’d thought I wasn’t strong enough, I knew I couldn’t have
what it took to be a real Scion.  I’d avoided thinking about everything,
filling my head with easy tasks and simple thoughts
because
I knew I
wouldn’t survive this.  But hearing Rowan say it...

As I
began to head upstairs with slumped shoulders and a head swimming with
negativity, Rowan spoke again, and I sucked in a wavering breath.

“The
female is stubborn, determined.”  My ears rang as blood surged through my
veins, but I leaned in to hear the rest.  “She’s shown remarkable control and
resilience these few days that I would never have believed if I hadn’t
witnessed it myself.  That she hasn’t let the Destroyer take her over again is
extraordinary.  Savannah
will
master this.”

My
name in that deep and smoky voice gave me goosebumps.  Had I heard right? 
Rowan didn’t think I was hopeless?

Tears
came before I was in my room, unable to resist falling now.  But they were not
sad tears, tears of frustration and fear of having to become what I once was. 
They were tears of something else.  Because of Rowan’s words.

I
let myself cry for one more minute, then set my jaw and squared my shoulders. 
A minute after that, Rowan knocked on my door.

Come
in
, I telepathed, but stayed in my
dark bedroom.

“It
wouldn’t be proper,” he said from my doorway, peering into the dark.

“Don’t
be ridiculous.” I wiped my wet cheeks with his sage sweater sleeves.  “I’m a
virgin.  Never even kissed a guy.  I wouldn’t even know what to do with a male
like you.”

Rowan
cleared his throat in the way he did when he needed a moment to censor
himself.  They all did it in one way or another.  Grayson paused often, as if
he were choosing what he said very carefully.  Cy never said anything that
didn’t sound premeditated—until earlier today anyway.

“If
your motive is to make a male uninterested, saying those things is
counterproductive.”

Oh. 

Was
it the virgin thing?  That couldn’t exactly be a surprise to anyone.  Was it
the kissing thing?  I could understand even the noblest male seeing it as a
challenge.  And I may have unintentionally complimented him.  What did I mean
by a male like him anyway? 

Strong
yet gentle.  Clever.  Considerate.  Intriguing.  Controlled and challenging. 
Almost charming when he wanted to be.  Mmm, very desirable.

I
shook the thoughts away, shocked that they came to me at all.  Within the
course of a few days, but man my life became complicated.

This
time, it was
me
who cleared my throat before saying anything more.  I might
have thought it was funny under different circumstances.

“Did
you like the tea before?  I can make—”

“Sure,
I…” he cleared his throat.  “Sure.”

I
had a kettle made for camping that heated water without electricity,
specifically for when the power went out in this exact way.  Fishing through
the closet for the kettle, I stumbled around in the tiny, dark room.  I kept my
composure more than I thought I would considering two minutes ago I’d been
bawling like a baby because of words this male said about me.

But
his sneer was still there.  His harsh, biting tone and the unease in his stance
still in place.  It wasn’t like he was suddenly seeing me differently.  Rowan
still couldn’t stand being near me.

“I
don’t…I never hated you.  I just—” he grumbled, and I shook my head.  Of course
he could feel what I was feeling.  Of course I hadn’t figured out how to not
project.  It had just been the distance and the walls separating us when I was
eavesdropping on the stairs.

“Don’t
worry about it,” I said, slamming the closet door harder than I meant to,
camping kettle in hand, and started to mechanically make some tea.

When
my hands and apartment smelled strongly of green tea and lemons, I sat down on
the couch, expecting Rowan to stand in the corner and glare at me.  But he sat
on the other end of the couch, and took a long, loud slurp of tea.  It made me
feel weirdly pleased.

“What
do you know about Grayson’s sister?” I asked mostly to fill the quiet airspace.

All
he did was look at me, champagne eyes penetrating even in the dark, until I
understood what he expected me to do. 

Tell
me about Grayson’s sister.

“Her
name is Tanis Rivera.  She’s a half-caste Tempter.”

I
waited, but Rowan sipped his tea and said nothing more.

That’s
it? 

“Is
that not enough?”

You
didn’t tell me anything about her.

“You
of all people should know what it means when I say she’s a half-caste.  You
know more about her than any of us could.”

“That
can’t be true.  Grayson would know—”

“Tanis
and Grayson have never met.”

That
kind of explained Grayson’s reaction yesterday.  Had he not meant to telepath
her image to me in the first place?  Had the Tempter advisor slipped up and let
me see something real?

I
didn’t understand how he could be a Royal advisor, yet not know his sister who
was in Iliana’s court.  Perhaps my mother was even worse than I’d thought.

Tell
me more.

“Her
human mother was a Mexican actress, beautiful in all the ways human women are. 
Lucia Rivera was successful, and kind, but far too trusting.  Grayson’s father
seduced her, as Tempters do, then left her, as Tempters do.  Not surprisingly,
Lucia died in childbirth.” 

“Why
not surprisingly?”

Rowan
scowled, and I repeated the question mentally, intentionally projecting
irritation along with it.

“Humans
rarely make it full-term when carrying a half-demon in their womb.  Those who
make it to give birth seldom survive it.”

“And
demons have no problem knowing this?” outrage flaring inside me.  “They get
women pregnant all the time.  They never considered knocking them up is a death
sentence?  It should be outlawed!”

“I
suspect the demon’s intention isn’t to get a human pregnant, only to…” he
cleared his throat, “sleep with them.”

“So
who raised Tanis until she was sixteen?” I asked, my anger shifting into
concern.

Until
our sixteenth birthday, half-castes had no choice but to struggle in the human
world.  Without Dad, I didn’t know if I could have survived it.  It was because
I had him to come home to, him to push me in school, him to praise my
accomplishments—theoretically—and to reprimand my deviances that I could stand
even one day of my life.

He
frowned because I hadn’t telepathed the question, but answered anyway. “Foster
care.”

Oh,
God.  I knew there were some good foster families.  The system could work, but
it couldn’t have been easy for a half-caste.  We felt unwanted enough as it
was.  Maybe Tanis finally found a home with Iliana.  But I couldn’t convince
myself.  I feared the worst for Grayson’s sister. 

My
heart ached for the girl I never met, and hoped my mother wasn’t the evil witch
I’d imagined her to be. 

“’Evil
witch you’d imagined her to be’,” Rowan repeated the words I hadn’t said out
loud, shaking his head.  “Now you’re projecting your thoughts.”

A
sting of shame surged through me.  I didn’t want Rowan thinking I was weak. 
And I didn’t want him knowing my deepest feelings either.  If I was projecting
thoughts, that meant I was getting worse, not better.  I’d only projected emotions
before.

“Didn’t
mean to,” I mumbled, unable to look at him. 

Until
Hadrian lifted my glamour, I had no idea how much being an outcast, being
looked at as disgusting, as having no place to belong upset me.  Maybe I had
the better deal before.  Everything hurt less.

“This
is why I insist we continue our training.  When a hostile situation arises,” I
noted that he didn’t say
if
, “your ability to speak to us and keep out
your enemies will be your best defense.”

Yeah,
you keep saying,
I telepathed,
hopelessness settling in.  Maybe I couldn’t do this, like Benn said.  I wanted
to stay optimistic, but I wasn’t getting any better.  I didn’t deserve to be
able to telepath.  I was still a nothing, a nobody.  Like I’d always been.

Rowan
slammed his mug, then both fists into the coffee table making me spill tea on
my rabbit fur covered feet.

“You
feeble little thing!  Do you know what happens in my world to halflings who are
so pathetic?”  I squeaked, wanting to defend myself, but no words came out.  “Can
you even comprehend something this important, you sniveling child?  You really
are the
nothing
you think you are.  A nothing, waste of a title, waste
of the space you occupy.”

“But…”
I was going to say it wasn’t my fault, but my throat closed up.  My whole body
stung, like his words were toxic.

He stood,
towering over me.  I wouldn’t raise my head to look up at him.  “That’s right,
bow your head to me, half-caste.  Let your pitiful nature pull you under…”

Heat
warmed my cheeks, slid down my neck and burned in my chest.  Rowan kept
shouting, his position above me making me feel as small as he intended.

“Hold
yourself back, let your life pass you by.  Just like before.  May as well have
your glamour back,
not like you’re doing anything productive without it!
”

Smoke-and-fire
rose up, my demon instinct finally deciding to join in.  As old memories filled
my head, clouding my vision, I remembered what this felt like before Hadrian
took my glamour away.  It felt like torment, like evil and death and everything
sick and twisted in the world.  But it didn’t feel the same as before. 

Rowan’s
howls roared around me, but I hardly heard him.  I could feel his fear as the
smoke-and-fire burned.  This incredible male feared what I could do. 

But
the fire wasn’t fire anymore.  It was light.  The smoke wasn’t smoke at all. 
It was strength, burning conviction and power into me.

Something
snapped into place inside my mind, a sense lucidity and rightness.

Mentally,
I forced him away, my demon instinct keeping him at a distance.  Rowan didn’t
get to know how his words hurt me.  He didn’t get to know that my heart ached
and blood boiled.  He, of all demons, shouldn’t be talking to me like this.  I
didn’t know why I felt this way, but I felt this way with such certainty, I knew
it in the marrow of my bones.

Even
though he continued to bark, I hadn’t heard him for a while.  Suddenly, Rowan’s
voice crashed over me.  “Who would want you?  Who would follow you?  Who would
even want to
touch
you…”

“Enough!” 
I shot to my feet.  The mug of tea I’d made for Rowan shot up with me, crashed
into the ceiling, and sprayed hot tea and ceramic shards onto Rowan’s blonde
head. 

I
allowed myself one slack-jawed moment.

“That
is quite enough, Rowan,” I said calmly, but my simultaneous telepath had a
clearer meaning. 
Shut.  The
fuck
. Up!

Rowan
ran his head through his wet hair, seemingly unbothered by the jagged mug
pieces that clattered to the ground.  “Well done.”

Blinking
at the demon, I grunted, “Huh?”

“You
did it.  It’s done,” he flopped into the couch and shook out his hair, sending
the last of the shards jangling to the floor.  “Thank.  God.”

Scrunching
my face, still annoyed and not sure what to do with my building anger now that
Rowan wasn’t attacking me, I asked, “Did I miss something?”

“Since
you clearly are still feeling emotions,” he motioned to my sweaty face, shaking
hands, and then my torso as I gulped in air, “Your projections have been
blocked.”

Eyes
closed, I steadied my breathing and stopped shaking.  When I sat and could open
my eyes again, Rowan was practically glowing, specks of white gold in his eyes. 
I remembered what he told Benn and Cy.  He thought my temper was a thing of
beauty.

That
belly flutter thing happened again, but Rowan’s expression didn’t change.  He
couldn’t feel it.

My
eyes narrowed at him.  “I only did it once.  That doesn’t mean I’ll be able to
keep—”

“Give
it a try,” Rowan said with knowing.  His jaw wasn’t clenched.  His eyes weren’t
narrowed. 

I
kept him out, in the same way I had a moment ago.  Sending a little, mental
push into the room, toward the Hammer demon, I telepathed,
It can’t be this
simple.

But
he didn’t hear me. 

I
pictured Grayson, though I didn’t know if he was even nearby, still pushing on
Rowan, and asked,
Testing, testing.  One, two, three?

Loud
and clear, Scion.  Nicely done.
  It
was Cyrus who’d responded.  Exactly how bonded were those two males?

“How
can it be that easy?” I asked Rowan, shaking my head, eyebrows drawn.

“It’s
similar to figuring out a puzzle.  Your mind needed to see the pattern. 
Hopefully, it’ll take effort to even project.  What are you feeling at this
moment?”

I was
still pissed.  But I understood what he had done, and even though Rowan’s
method ticked me off, I was grateful.  Still skeptical, but grateful.  I was a
tangle of fear and tension, exhaustion and frustration, but there was an
underlying hint of pride.  I was happy Benn was downstairs, chatting with Cyrus
probably, and completely safe with him.  Contentment felt good.

“Believe
me now?” Rowan asked, and incredibly, unquestionably, yet without an
explanation I could understand, he looked nicer. 

As a
test—and I knew it wasn’t a human decision—I withdrew the mental push keeping
Rowan out, and sent a subdued projection of being impressed.  He leered and
stiffened up, tensing his shoulders and hardening his stare.

When
I blocked him out, he relaxed again, but accused, “you’re messing with me.”

I
laughed, and he smiled.  Really smiled.  And it made me see, without a
question, without second guessing or evaluating why, that he was the most
handsome male I’d ever seen.  All remaining wrath was washed away in a tidal
wave of
wow
.