Demetrius (2 page)

So worth it.  

Calli didn’t care what the patients smelled like or if those with severe dementia tried to hit or bite her, she loved every minute. Her supernatural strength was a huge asset on the job and she learned so much.

Not to mention, night shifts were plentiful in the CNA field. The weak sunlight of daybreak she drove home in wasn’t enough to severely burn her with her powerful bloodlines.

Heading to the laundry room, she stripped off her scrubs and grabbed a fresh pair of sweats. It was easier on her anxiety-ridden father not to let him see her in scrubs. The sight caused him to become morose and the smells that clung to her…well, vampire senses were extremely sensitive. She was used to it, he most definitely would never be.

The ponytail holder was the next to go. She tipped her head down and shook her hair out.
California Girl
, one of her patients called her because of her blonde hair and bright blue eyes. She always joked maybe one day, knowing it would be a big never. All that sunshine and vampires don’t mix.    

“Father,” she called, heading down the stairs to their lair.

The lair was home. The upper levels were fun and she liked hanging out up there when the sun set, but she wallowed in the coziness of the sanctuary her father had built generations ago.

A groaning sound echoed through the hall. Calli slowed, cocking her head to listen better. Was that her father?

No, it sounded like no noise a living being would make.

Swiftly, Calli trotted down to the landing. She stopped to listen again. Was it coming from his bedroom? The living area was depressed and centered in the middle of the lower level. A few steps up in each direction lead to the bedrooms, bath, or offices.

There, she heard it again. It wasn’t coming from the bedrooms, but in the direction of the office. If the sound had anything to do with her father, it probably originated from the library.

Trying to stay as quiet as possible, she crept down the hall, past the office, to the library. The sound got stronger, and stranger. What would make a deep moaning sound like that?

Her father’s words drifted down the corridor. “I swear, I will trade myself for her.” He sounded desperate, angry.

The sound cleared, like a radio station coming into tune, and it…laughed?

“You think you would be more valuable?”

“My blood is strong. I have standing within our species.”

The laugh came again. Shivers whispered down Calli’s spine. Whatever was happening in the library was not good.

“You are not wrong son of Augustus, you and your blood will prove quite useful.”

Hunching down to remain unseen, Calli snuck into the library and darted behind a ten foot tall ornate oak bookcase. She peeked around to find her father and when she did, she yearned to sprint back to her car and drive far away from home, very quickly.

The beast her father spoke to must have been seven feet tall. Calli had cleaned enough elderly genitals to deduce the gender was male. He towered over her father, dwarfing him even from across the narrow table that stood between them.

Demon.

It could be nothing else with fangs five times longer than hers, fingers that ended in claws, and blood red horns sprouting from his temples. She’d heard talk of demons during their social gatherings with other prime families, the powerful families who used to rule their race. Empty threats, mostly, like stories of the boogeyman to get children to behave.

Father, what’d you do?

The stench of sulfur was so strong, it overrode any other scent. Her father wouldn’t be able to sense her. Would the demon? She crouched down even farther and leaned back so less of her head was poking out.

Her father stood over a large, weathered book. “Malachim, I command you—”

The demon threw his head and roared in laughter. “You think you have the power to throw me back into the underworld?”

Her father chanted in a language she’d never heard. Malachim’s hand snaked out to grab his neck. Callie wanted to jump out, distract the demon, something. The strangled sounds her father made terrified her.

“You fool,” the demon sneered, saliva dripping off his fangs. “Never summon me unless you’re absolutely certain your wards are correct.”

Malachim disappeared. Calli’s eyes widened, not wanting to believe what she saw, for disappeared wasn’t an accurate description. He became incorporeal and flowed into her father.

He stood like Malachim still had his throat. Then he arched his back and rotated his head, stretching his neck. He chuckled. It was her father’s voice, but she recognized the sinister laugh from moments ago.

His head jerked sideways like he heard a sound. Calli darted out of the library before he spotted her.

Ohshitohshitohshit.

Was he still Father, still Edgar Augustus? Or was he—  

Calli ran as stealthily as she could back to the laundry room. Heart racing, she looked around.
Think of something!
If she wasn’t losing her mind, and she really saw something sinister happening in her own home, the last thing she wanted was for
that thing
to know she’d witnessed it all.

Either she still reeked like a lava pool, or the sulfur smell was stuck in her nose.

Her clothes!
She grabbed them off the floor and rubbed them all over. The mingling smells of several humans and stale urine from changing bedding helped mask the smell of the underworld.

Dumping the scrubs into the washing machine, she poured in detergent without measuring. She was pushing buttons when she sensed a presence.

Looking over, she jumped when she saw her father standing in the doorway watching her.
“Father! You scared me.”

He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. His eyes were—Calli suppressed a shudder—dark. Her father’s normally stormy sky eyes were fathomless orbs of pure evil.

“Callista. Did you just get home?”

“Yes. My clothes got dirty at work so I thought I’d better change and wash them.”

Those dark eyes glanced at the machine, then narrowed back on her. She struggled to remain casual.

“Is everything okay?”

He smiled again, and it was more disturbing than before. “Your birthday is soon.”

“Yes.”

“Have you plans?”

“Twenty-five doesn’t seem like a big deal, but I asked for the night off so we could celebrate.”

“Perfect. We will indeed celebrate.” His smile spread even further.

Creepy. Her father was now really creepy.

“Okay. Well, I’d better turn in for the day. I have a ten hour shift again tonight.”

“Good night, dear.”

Her father left and Calli sagged against the machine. What was going on?

When she could no longer hear him, she hurried to her room. Locking the door made her feel better even though it wouldn’t stand a chance against that thing she saw in the library.

She paced her room. Her father was always buried in those ancient texts in the library. One was open on the table when he’d addressed the monster. The library held answers, she would bet her father’s Rolls on it.

For darkness’ sakes, she didn’t want to go near the library. Her eyes landed on her laptop.

Logging into the special network a group of vampire super geeks created, Calli searched everything demon for the next two hours. The pull of the sun and her impending ten hour shift wasn’t enough to settle her down.

Malachim’s name brought up all kinds of disturbing info. Calli skimmed articles and blogs on the demons vampires were legendary for associating with centuries ago. Growing up, there were so many tales of how their kind descended from the most powerful demons. She’d never given them much thought. She’d heard just as many stories about how shifters and vampires originated together, only shifters served Mother Earth and vampires…served themselves. She thought the stories were just that—the vampire equivalent of fables.

Everything pointed to Malachim being a demon. One of the thirteen demons in power in the underworld. So, one question answered in an unsettling way. What about his sudden disappearance?

Calli typed in “possession” and her heart slammed down to her bare feet.

The bloggers whose sites she cruised might not be heralded as the most mentally stable, but damn if they didn’t describe exactly what she’d seen in the library and what she’d felt when her “father” chatted with her.

Malachim possessed her father.

All questions of what he was doing and why took a backseat to how the hell was she going to help her father?

She knew nothing about the dark arts. None of her vampire friends did, either, not that she had many friends. Any vampires she knew could be considered acquaintances. Maybe they had parents who’d dabbled in it at one time, but how would she find that out?
Oh hey, I think a monster took over my father’s body. Has something weird like that ever happened to you? Do you know of a good Possessed Anonymous group?

Didn’t matter who you talked to, her father was a bad guy in her world. The attitude of how he and the other council members let the Vampire Council fall—he wasn’t strong enough, wasn’t competent enough, wasn’t powerful enough—was upheld by the prime families. Then there was the rest of the vampire population. Like cattle trying to blend in at a slaughterhouse, they pointed fingers toward Edgar Augustus and all the others as the evil force that had needed to be neutered. Hating her father was the cool thing to do.

She feared she’d be seen as an extension of that derision and had severely limited the contact with her people to none. Life since that egotistical prick Demetrius Devereux overthrew their government consisted of going to work, answering call lights, setting up bingo, and cleaning dentures.

Her father had been morose, stressed, sometimes frantic after her mother left. But when that prime party boy Demetrius forced all vampires into the modern world, her father had become a shell of himself. Perhaps that was why the demon found him easy pickings to inhabit.

Calli refused to give up on him. There had to be some way to help him.

She scrolled aimlessly until a headline caught her eye.

Perched on the end of her chair, she read through the ravings of a vampire conspiracy theorist. The male highlighted instances during the regime takeover where he suspected evidence was covered up. Proof more than just studies had been going on in the vampire-funded underground laboratories that Demetrius ordered destroyed. There were strong suspicions of secret meetings between Demetrius and his allies that their new government didn’t know about.

Demetrius Devereux.

Calli hated him on principle. He’d destroyed her father’s life. Everyone on the council had been ruined, their reputations and their livelihoods destroyed. The privileged Demetrius hadn’t bothered to find the true point of corruption on the Vampire Council, no attempt to find those responsible for the stagnation of their species.

Their only source of income gone. Her earnings had helped them keep food on the table for the last year. Not that they had served five course meals, but she’d become a decent cook and was always able to purchase quality food. In order to keep their home, her taste buds were getting used to hot dogs and ramen. Her father struggled, but ate out of respect for Calli’s hard work. He took care of her blood needs, luring a suitable human woman to the surrounding woods so Calli could feed and remain healthy.

If this website was correct, Demetrius knew more about the myths she’d grown up with. But would he finish the job of destroying her father?

No she couldn’t go to him.

She’d done everything else herself, she’d figure this out, too.

Chapter Three

“You’re the boss.”

Demetrius scowled at his closest friend. “You’re an ass, Rourke.”

“Yes, I am, but seriously, it’s your call.”

Shoving his hair out of his face, Demetrius growled in frustration. He wanted to throttle the male. Or head to the gym and spar with him. Or go for a run. Something other than sitting in this fucking board room, his mind going numb from all the maybe-we-should-do-this and no-that-won’t-work and what-we-outta-do…

Life was way better when he had to pretend to be interested in nothing but a warm and willing female. And then another one, and another one.

Demetrius mentally groaned. How long had it been?

Fuck. A year ago, the answer would’ve been “since last night,” or even “five minutes ago.” Not anymore.

The other vampire serving in their new government, the TriSpecies Synod, Zohana spoke up. “I’ll back whatever you decide, D. You haven’t steered us wrong yet.”

“Thanks Zoey. Thanks a lot.” He tapped the table. Five of his most trusted friends watched him, waiting. “I think we should investigate more. Figure out what’s going on.”

“I agree.”

“Coulda said so, Zoey.”

The stoic brunette shrugged, her intelligent doe eyes flashing with mirth. “I didn’t want to sway your decision.”