Demon Master (Demonsense series Book 2) (8 page)

“Did you say Varga? Marton Varga?” Daniel asked tersely.

“Someone you know?”
 

“If it’s the one I’m thinking of, yeah. Someone I’m related to, actually.” Daniel folded his hands across his stomach as he explained. “Varga was my mother’s maiden name. I think Marton is a second cousin of some kind, a couple of times removed. I can never keep all those degrees of cousin straight. Anyway, that side of the family is from Hungary. I think I met him once when there was a big family reunion in Budapest. I was only a kid at the time, maybe nine or ten. He’s five or six years older than me, so it’s not like we hung out. I heard later on that his father was a Keeper who turned dark and went Keltoi, and they lived somewhere in California. So it could be the same guy.”

“Well, you might be interested to know that Keeper intelligence has it that your old flame, Franchesca Gambrini, is involved with him.”

The light went right out of Daniel’s face at the mention of Franchesca’s name.
 
She was a childhood friend and former lover of Daniel’s, the crazy, demon burned ex-girlfriend from hell, as far as Bree was concerned. She was pretty sure Daniel had finally seen her for what she was when she kidnapped their friend Kevin’s son last fall as a way to get to Daniel, but she knew that Daniel was still very much pained by the path Franchesca had taken, probably not least because it was a path he could so easily have taken himself. And wasn’t it a little creepy that Franchesca had ended up with a cousin of Daniel’s? She had a very unhealthy obsession with Daniel, and Bree couldn’t help but wonder if this was just another aspect of it.

Daniel’s reaction wasn’t completely lost on Dion. His features softened as he said, “Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, man. In any case, if a demon war is starting, it’s starting there. But we’re all worried that Seattle won’t be far behind.”

“Don’t you think the powered community should know about this?” Bree asked.

“We don’t want to start a panic,” Dion began, but Bree interrupted.

“People need to review their defensive spells, get up to speed on personal wards.
 
Maybe we can prevent some of the possessions that way. You know possessions of powered are way worse than possession of normals.”

“It’s a hard line to walk,” Dion tried again, but this time Daniel interrupted. “I think she’s right. There has to be a way to alert people without starting an all out panic.”

“The Council is debating that now, as is the Ecclesias. And in the end, it’ll have to come down from the Ecclesias, you know that,” Dion finally finished with some show of irritation. “I share your concerns here, but you have to realize that harm can be done if everyone gets all paranoid. That can divide the powered community right when we should be pulling together.”
 

Bree sighed. Dion was ultimately a political creature, and she was, in essence, too black and white in her opinions to be able to argue well with him in cases like these. To her, it was obviously right to warn people. She didn’t have much patience for the political intricacies of how and why.
 

Dion gave first her, then Daniel a measuring look. “Do I have to ask you two not to go blabbing this around to all and sundry?” When neither of them answered right away, it was his turn to sigh. “Look, it won’t be long before this comes out in the open.
 
And it’s not like there’s not already rumors. All I’m asking here is that you not go around telling everyone to get ready for a war. Go ahead and tell folks about the increase in possessions. Daniel, you know more about defensive spells and warding than probably anyone I know. Feel free to help people you know get their defensive spells in order. Just keep in mind we don’t know for certain that it’s going to be war, so there’s no reason yet to be saying there is one.”

“Do
you
think there’s going to be a war?” Daniel asked him directly. Bree watched as Dion’s brows furrowed slightly and his nostrils flared, listened carefully to his tone of voice as he replied, “I’m not fully convinced of it, no.”

“Did you just try to lie to me?” Bree said, voice rising as her Reader sense put together his tells.

“Honey, you know and I know that’d be a waste of breath with you going Reader on me like you just did. And don’t deny it,” Dion said with an exasperated look. “I said I’m not fully convinced, and I meant that. I don’t think we’ve crossed the threshold into war, and we may not. And I sincerely hope we don’t.”

“Amen to that,” Daniel murmured.

“So anyway, message received, thanks for the report, and thanks, Bree, for dinner.
 
I’ve got to be getting on here in a minute, I’ve got a date.”

“Dear Lord, don’t you ever sleep?” Bree asked, her rising anxiety and irritation momentarily sidetracked into rueful amusement. “You must have gotten up at five for your early shift.”

“I took a nap after work,” Dion reassured her, getting to his feet. “A man needs to rest after saving lives all day.” Dion worked as an paramedic when he wasn’t up to his ears in politics. “And besides, you know I’m never too tired for the ladies.”

Bree saw him to the door and hugged him goodbye. She returned back to the dining room to find Daniel clearing the table. They worked together quietly to clean up, interrupted periodically by Bree shooing Hanroi off the counters where he insisted on being. The kitten finally got bored with tormenting her and wandered off into the living room, probably for his evening nap.

Daniel did the dishes, and Bree dried and put away. They chatted about Dion, local powered politics, and a spell Daniel was currently puzzling over, both avoiding further talk of the possible upcoming war and the revelation about the involvement of Daniel’s cousin and his ex.
 

Bree was distracted by watching his profile as he worked. She couldn’t help but admire the strong line of his nose, the little hollow below his cheekbone, and his long black lashes. His dark otter pelt hair was in need of a trim. She had a moment’s fantasy of turning him to her and running her hands through it, and she shook herself a little to dispel the thought. Clearly, she retained a sort of helpless physical attraction for him, and she became hyper aware of it the rare times they were alone together. There was a way he held eye contact with her a little too long as they talked, a way his shoulder brushed up against hers as they maneuvered around the small kitchen, that told her he was feeling very aware of her too. A nervous sense of expectation started up in Bree, as if this were a date. She told herself not to be ridiculous, that she and Daniel had been so careful to keep things between them platonic, they were hardly going to change that on a sudden whim. Surely she was imagining things here.
 

A little silence fell as Daniel did the last of the dishes. He finished the final pot lid, pulled the plug on the sink, and rinsed his hands under the tap. He moved around Bree to wipe his hands on the dish towel laced through the handle on the refrigerator.
 
Then Bree felt him move up behind her, felt the heat of his body approach just before he put a hand on her waist. She froze with the pasta pot in one hand, towel in the other. Slowly, Daniel moved her braid to one side with his other hand and lowered his lips into a gentle kiss on her neck. Bree opened her mouth on a little gasp and shivered involuntarily, but she didn't pull away. Daniel moved closer, pulling her against him with the hand on her waist, his other arm moving around across her shoulders and the top of her chest, imprisoning her as he kissed her neck again.

 
Bree let the pot fall to the counter, one hand still clutching the towel, the other bracing herself against the counter’s edge.
This can’t be happening
, she told herself. His kisses moved down her neck and across the top of the shoulder that was accessible above her sweater. Bree felt strangely immobilized, unable to speak, unable to act, either to push him away or pull him closer. Daniel’s body shifted, and his attentions moved to the other side of her neck. Waves of electric warmth coursed down her arms and into her breasts. There was something about not having to look at him that made it possible to allow this. The hand at her waist glided forward across her stomach and began gently moving under her sweater. She gasped aloud as his warm hand made contact with her bare stomach, the tips of his fingers moving below the top edge of her pants. She had the nagging sense that she should put a stop to this, that she wasn’t ready for this, but she couldn’t make herself move away.
 

Slowly, Daniel began turning her to face him, and she felt the first stirrings of resistance. She was afraid to look at him. And she didn’t look at him until he trapped her face between his hands. When she found the courage to raise her eyes, Daniel was gazing at her intently, holding her firmly in his grasp, but waiting for something. Her breath came fast as she allowed herself to really look at him, take him in. God, he was gorgeous. With a little sigh of surrender, she leaned forward, lips seeking for his, and that was apparently what he’d been waiting for. He met her in the kiss. It was slow, and deep, and didn’t stop. Tongues twined, then darted, advancing, teasing, retreating. Daniel moved one hand around her back, up under her sweater, and pushed closer to her.
 

 
Bree finally came out of her strange passivity, and her arms went around him.
 
Their kissing gradually became more urgent, and their bodies moved against each other more, seeking, pressing. Bree felt shaky, excited, and wildly turned on. The voice of caution was getting louder in her head in response, but she pushed it away. She broke off the kiss, and exchanged a smoldering, sexually charged look with Daniel. Then, resolutely, she began pulling his blue sweater off over his head. The white t-shirt underneath came half up with it, and as Daniel took on getting the sweater over his head, Bree’s hands caressed his hard stomach. Daniel sucked in a harsh breath as she did so, then threw his sweater on the floor and pulled her urgently against him, kissing her again, her mouth, her neck, tongue dipping teasingly around and into her ear. Bree’s cheeks heated with arousal, and her head was thrown back in surrender, hair escaping her braid in tendrils around her face. And desire was clear to see on Daniel’s face as well. As he kissed her lips again, Bree started to feel the need to have even fewer clothes between them.
My God,
a tiny voice said in the back of her mind,
are you going to have sex with him right here in the kitchen? Right now?
Rather than slowing her down, the little voice triggered a picture in her head that spiked her sexual desire for Daniel further, if that was possible. She was pulling at him, pulling him closer by his arms, his shoulders, his waist, hands restless, wanting more of him. He obliged, hands slipping down her back to cup her ass, pulling her against the swell of his erection.
 

And suddenly, a sharply defined mental image intruded on Bree’s mind. A memory of Daniel doing this to Franchesca. It had been last fall. He’d been demon possessed and was kissing Franchesca hungrily, pulling her against him in exactly this way. Bree had been tied to a chair at the time, helpless to do anything to interfere, sickened by the sight but unable to look away. A sensation of cold water pouring down her body washed over her at the memory, and before she was consciously aware of what she was doing, she started pushing Daniel away. It took him a moment to realize she was actually struggling against him, and she felt increasingly panicked when he didn’t immediately release her. “Let me go!” she cried, when her lips were free of his. She got her hands between them and pushed hard at his chest.
 

He stepped back quickly then, a surprised look on his face. He still had one hand on her shoulder, and Bree roughly shook it off and took a few steps to the side, instinctively getting out of his reach.
 

“Bree, what is it?” Daniel asked, voice husky and full of confused concern.

She looked at him, and for a moment, a vision of how his face looked when he’d been possessed by Gelsenim was superimposed on him now, changing the stunned, half aroused look on his face to one of careless lust and amused cruelty. She looked away, shaken by the image. A whole cascade of memories from that night intruded, of being beaten, of having to watch both her friend Kevin and Daniel hurt trying to rescue her, the moment when she realized Franchesca really meant to kill her. And worst of all, seeing Daniel possessed by a demon.
 

Daniel made a move toward her, all concern, and she flinched away further. He stopped and said softly, “Talk to me, Bree. Just tell me what’s happening. Is it still too soon?”

She shook her head helplessly, and embarrassed, frightened tears began swimming in her eyes. She knew what was happening, but she couldn't seem to speak. This was a flashback, like war veterans got. She used to get them after Seth died. Her muscles had tightened all over her body, and she began to shake.
 

“Oh God, I’m sorry, Bree, I’m sorry,” Daniel said, hands half raised as if he wanted to pull her to him but uncertain if that was what she’d want. “I guess I shouldn’t have pushed it. I didn’t plan it or anything. I just, I don’t know, I just…”

“That’s not it,” Bree managed to grate out. She wiped hard at her eyes, then reminded herself to just try to breathe. Daniel stayed silent then, a tall, fretful presence at the edge of her vision as she forced her breath to slow, her muscles to unknot. It gave her time to think about what she'd been doing. She had just been crossing a line with Daniel, an important line. This was not a man she could have casual sex with. Whatever was between them, it was anything but casual. And no matter what her body wanted, in her heart, she was truly divided about him. As divided as Daniel himself. As she gradually got herself under control, she began to feel it was fortunate the flashback had occurred. She knew herself, and she would ultimately have regretted sleeping with him when her emotions about him were so confused.

When she finally felt she could speak, she said, “I had some kind of flashback there. Of when you were possessed.”