Demon's Triad (2 page)

Aleeza had finally given up trying to get her degree in criminology. The hassle of being kicked out of class after class as soon as the teacher realized that she was “one of them” wasn’t worth the piece of paper. She’d learned everything she needed to know on the job, shadowing older coven members for the first few years as an apprentice.

Speaking of apprentices…

“Maybe you should follow Pierce around next week. I think he might be a better fit for you.”

“I don’t want to follow Pierce. He’s an asshole.”

8

Demon’s Triad

“He’s an asshole who knows how to get information.
All
the information,” Aleeza said, tossing her waist-length hair over her shoulder where she hoped it would hide the damaged portion of her corset.

“Sorry.” Raven didn’t sound sorry at all, and Aleeza’s teeth started to grind together.

“No big deal, I found out where the target’s renting. I’ll call the office and get a team out there to see if they can pick him up.”

“Why don’t we just head over there and do it ourselves? I’m sure we can handle this guy. He’s into identity theft, not murder, right?” Raven asked.

“I have plans.”

“Oh, hot date?” Raven laughed and it wasn’t a pretty sound despite the fact that her twin dimples made her look like the poster child for wholesome, all-American good times.

“Keller’s old man’s trailer park is over near the office. A team will be able to get there faster,” Aleeza said, turning to walk down the alley toward where she’d parked her car a few hours before. Hopefully it was still there. Even parking an old clunker like her Vesta in this part of the city was dangerous after dark. Automobile theft was at an all-time high despite the new mayor’s promises to clean up the streets.

“Hey, ‘Leez,” Raven called after her in a voice that was almost plaintive.

“What?”

“Didn’t mean to piss you off.”

“You didn’t,” Aleeza threw back over her shoulder, not bothering to turn around.

“I know how it feels you know…to
want
so bad.”

Aleeza broke into a jog, her high-heeled boots clicking on the pavement, not even bothering to validate her cousin’s words with a response. Give her six more years of

“wanting” and maybe a month or two of the dreams that had made Aleeza dread sleep for the past year—then,
maybe
, they would talk.

* * * * *

Aleeza took the steps at her mother’s house two at a time. The Craftsman bungalow looked charming at night, but the creak of the wood beneath her feet hinted at the decades of neglect obvious in the daylight hours. Mona needed a new roof and a few dozen other repairs in a major way, but ever since Aleeza’s dad had run off when she was six and her older brothers nine and twelve, money had been tight in the Perkins house. The Gunera coven had money set aside for members in need, but the money was never enough to pay for a new roof or for clothes that didn’t come from the Salvation Army.

It wasn’t until her brother Blake had reached seventeen and been able to work full time for Gunera Bounty that they’d seen anything but ground beef or government cheese on the their table. Any fresh vegetables, they’d had to grow themselves in the 9

Anna J. Evans & December Quinn

tiny backyard where there was never any room to play between the tomato stakes and the rows of zucchini and cabbage.

“Mona? Are you home?” Aleeza stuck her head in the door and called a little louder. “Mona! Are you in there?”

Only the bright, impersonal glow of the overhead bulbs answered her. Her mom had either gone out and left the lights on or passed out on the couch after a few too many glasses of cheap wine. Mona wasn’t an alcoholic, but she and the bottle had been friends for years. She wasn’t the only Gunera who drank a little more than they should.

Some said it helped take the edge off the endless sexual frustration that was reality for at least half of their coven. Whether you had already married and lost your Amiantos husband or wife back to the mountains and woods, or were too young to have given in and rolled the marital dice with a member of the undefiled coven, over half the Gunera population was in a constant state of unfulfilled lust.

Lust. Shadow hands reaching through the night, touching her in all those secret places
where she longed to be touched. Thick fingers pressing into her aroused flesh, teasing in and out
of her wet folds, making her ache, burn, building the horrible, beautiful need inside her until she
was sure she would perish from pleasure denied.

“Mona?” Aleeza’s voice broke. She squeezed her eyes shut and struggled to take a deep breath. She wouldn’t allow the dreams to haunt her while she was awake, couldn’t or she would lose her mind. Hell, if the spell she planned to cast tonight didn’t work, she might lose it anyway, but she was never one to go down without a fight.

“In here! Close the door, you’re letting in a draft.”

“Well, answer sooner next time.” Aleeza let the door slam behind her as she made her way into the kitchen. There Mona sat at the scarred wooden table, with a cigarette dangling from her mouth, attention focused on the tiny doll in her hands. “You got more orders?”

“Five more. Even had a couple fly in from New York. Said their fertility doctor referred them, that I was the best in the business if they were going to go with a spell instead of ‘conventional medical wisdom’.” Mona let out a deep chuckle that turned into a hacking cough.

“And they went ahead and ordered, even after meeting you in person?”

“Ha, ha. You’re a little bitch—you know that?” Mona lifted her dark, nearly black eyes and winked at her.

“I learned from the best.” Aleeza pulled up a seat, taking a cigarette from her mother’s pack.

“Since when do you smoke?”

“Since tonight. I’m thinking of picking it up.” Aleeza lifted the cigarette to her nose and inhaled the smell of tobacco.

“Put that down, you have enough vices,” Mona said, smacking the cigarette out of her hand. “What are you doing here, anyway? It’s not Sunday last time I checked.”

10

Demon’s Triad

“I missed you so much I couldn’t wait two more days.” Aleeza picked up the cigarette and stuck it in her mouth.

“You’re so full of shit. What do you want, money?”

“When is the last time I asked you for money, Mom?” It came out as a hurt little whine and Aleeza winced.

No matter how their relationship had evolved, no matter how “friendly” they became, it still hurt that Mona never seemed to understand her, had never been able to see through to the heart of her the way she did her sons. But maybe that was her fault.

Aleeza didn’t let anyone see through her. She was too afraid of what they might find.

“Then what do you want? I’m busy, booger. I have to get this doll finished by tomorrow morning. The client is going to be ovulating in the next two days, so I can’t put it off, no matter how much I’d like to hang out and have girl talk.” Mona patted her hand and slid her lighter across the table before flipping her hair over her shoulder in a motion Aleeza recognized all too well. Sometimes it was downright eerie how much she resembled her mother. It was as if she had sprung from Mona’s forehead fully formed, and those hazy memories of a tall man with light brown hair and a warm smile for his daughter were nothing more than a dream.

“I was looking for some Queen Elizabeth root. Thought you might have some in stock,” Aleeza said casually, flicking the lighter on but not bringing it to the cigarette still dangling from her mouth. She didn’t like smoking, never had. She just liked the sensation of holding the cigarette in her mouth. It steadied her nerves and placed another barrier, no matter how insignificant, between her mother and herself.

“Why? Are you going to set up shop as my competition?”

“No, I have a friend who’s having trouble getting in the mood with her fiancé. She’s thinking about calling off the wedding.”

“She should. If she doesn’t want to fuck him before the wedding, she’s certainly not going to want to fuck him after.”

“Her dad died a few weeks ago and she’s depressed, Mom. She swears she used to love banging Ted. I’m going to give her the root and let her try it out for a few months.”

Aleeza shrugged, focusing on the lighter, refusing to look her mother in the eye. She was a fantastic liar, but Mona had always been able to smell a lie. Even from Aleeza.

“All right, go get some from the cellar, but make sure you give her strict instructions on how much to use.”

“Thanks, Mona,” Aleeza said, jumping up with a smile. She was getting smoother, or someone was losing her touch. Either way, she hadn’t anticipated scoring the root so easily and figured it was best to grab it and go before her mother changed her mind.

Mona didn’t share potion elements lightly, and she certainly never parted with anything she used in her fertility dolls.

“Get her to sign a liability release. Don’t think just because she’s a friend that she won’t sue,” Mona said, lifting her face to catch Aleeza’s peck on the cheek.

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Anna J. Evans & December Quinn

“Gotcha.” Aleeza was nearly to the backdoor by the time her mother spoke again.

“And be careful, booger. Whatever you’re really going to use it for, make sure you don’t bite off more than you can chew.”

Aleeza turned back to her mom with a smile on her face. “I don’t know what you mean, Mom. I’m just trying to help a friend.” Then she was out the door and making tracks toward the cellar entrance at the side of the house, trying to ignore the unease that prickled at the back of her neck.

She was going to be careful, and she wasn’t going to risk anyone’s wellbeing except her own. If she failed, only she would pay the price. If she succeeded…well, if she succeeded, anything would be worth it, wouldn’t it?

12

Demon’s Triad

Dorand shivered, both from the chill in the evening air and the anticipation coursing through his veins. This would work. It had to. If he and Ferrin, the two most powerful deathspeakers in the Amiantos clan, couldn’t make this work, even without their third…it couldn’t be done.

And that was not an option.

“Dorand…you have to relax.” Ferrin’s hands, hard and cool, stroked Dorand’s bare shoulders. Even if Dorand didn’t remember what those hands were capable of, the massage should have felt good. Too bad he was too fucking on edge to enjoy himself.

He took a deep breath.

“I’m working on it, give me a minute.”

“We don’t have a minute. Time is of the—”

“Don’t preach to me about time!” Dorand regretted the harsh words as soon as they were out of his mouth. He’d always been the member of their triad with the worst temper, but now wasn’t the time to indulge it. “I’m sorry. I’m just…”

“I know.” Ferrin’s voice was soft, almost as soft as the kiss he planted at the nape of Dorand’s neck. The intimacy was simultaneously comforting and completely alien.

How many times had they kissed? Probably a thousand or more, but not without her, never without her. “You miss her. So do I, brother.”

Dorand turned to look into the shorter man’s dark eyes. They called each other

“brother”, because that’s what they felt like. It was how they were raised. But the bond connecting them was stronger than blood. It was love, their love for each other and the passion they’d shared with Carantha. He wasn’t afraid to admit his love for a man, especially his clan-mate, but desire was an entirely different animal. “I don’t know if I can,” he said. “Forgive me for being an asshole, but I just don’t know.”

Ferrin smiled. “I’m not sure, either,” he said. “You have my love and loyalty until death, brother, but my cock is another story.”

“I don’t need your cock. I have a perfectly serviceable one of my own.”

“Couldn’t tell by looking at you.” Ferrin gave Dorand’s limp member a meaningful look that nearly made him blush. Fuck. Dorand had always been the strong one, the rock that both Ferrin and Carantha could turn to in times of trouble, and he’d been reduced to blushing like a virgin on his mate-claiming night. It was ridiculous. Worse, it was no way to get in the mind to make the magic they would attempt in this place.

“Fuck you, asshole,” Dorand said, reaching out to take Ferrin’s slightly thickened shaft in his hand. His heart beat faster as he anticipated feeling uncomfortable, maybe 13

Anna J. Evans & December Quinn

even a little repulsed by the idea of sexual contact without a woman involved in some way, but the feel of Ferrin’s cock was strangely soothing and familiar.

“If you try to fuck my asshole, we’re going to have a problem.” Ferrin smiled that wicked grin that had always made Carantha laugh and usually ravage him soon after.

With his shoulder-length ebony hair and dark coloring, Ferrin looked more like a pirate than a member of the usually fair-haired Amiantos coven. Dorand had always suspected that difference was why Carantha seemed to favor him at times. Ferrin had an air of danger about him that Dorand, for all his size and temper, knew he could never possess. He might be six feet four and out-weigh his clan brother by nearly fifty pounds, but anyone who knew him well knew that Dorand was a soft touch. Beneath his tough exterior, beat the heart of a peace-loving woodsman, not a fighter.

Until now. Now he was ready to fight, to kill. All he needed was a name.

“Let’s do this, Ferrin. For her.”

“We
will
reach her. We’re going to find out who did this, and we’re going to make them wish they had never been born onto this earth.” Ferrin’s lust for vengeance was clear in every word, and Dorand’s body answered with lust of its own, his cock beginning to thicken between his legs.

“Yes, we will,” he answered, stroking his hand up and down Ferrin’s shaft, coaxing him to a state of full arousal. The night was cold, but the skin beneath his hands was burning, hot with need, with power. This was how their magic had always worked best, and Dorand could feel that old, familiar swell of potential energy begin to gather in the air between them.

“Close your eyes,” Ferrin said, taking Dorand’s cock in one hand and cupping his tingling sac with the other.