Demonsense (Demonsense series Book 1) (40 page)

And that’s when she felt the darkness again. It was running like a black, bourgeoning river underneath the brilliant flare of his longing and desire. She felt how his self-control was worn down to a thread hanging suspended above the sharpest of knives. There was a self-hatred in it so dense it was now perceivable to her senses in a way it hadn’t been before. She felt repulsed by it, by the demon-tinged quality to it. Oh, it had been there before, but each demon contact worsened it as the demons attacked that vulnerable spot, sensing the way in to full possession. She knew the flavor of that self-hatred, because she had lived with it herself since Seth died, always wondering why she hadn’t been able to save him, why it hadn’t been her to die instead of him, knowing he was the worthier person.

She couldn’t help but freeze in place as she sensed all this. Daniel's eyes flew open, and he saw something in her face that triggered a look so pained, so desolate that she felt her heart crack open for him. Then he thrust away from her, both physically and energetically. She felt her Reader sense snap back into her like a hard thrown boomerang returning to its source, and the sensation disoriented her.
 

"Why do you keep doing that?" he exclaimed. "Why do you keep looking inside if you don't like what you see?"
 

"I didn't mean to read you, I don't know why that keeps happening! I just..."
 

“This was a mistake.” Daniel interrupted. He turned and began to walk away.
 

“Daniel, wait,” she gasped.

He ignored her, and strode towards the house, hands thrust into his pockets, body hunched over to protect his face from the rain.
 

Bree felt like a car that had been improperly downshifted while screaming full out down the highway. There was a shuddering and grinding inside her as her abused nervous system suffered another rapid, unexpected reversal. What in hell had just happened? Was that desire, tension release, or, God help her, the beginnings of love?
 

She found herself wanting to reject the last option. Daniel was clearly starting to crack. She’d read how his control was slipping. Maybe it wasn't demon burn, maybe it was just emotional strain on top of being injured. But either way, he was teetering on the brink of something.

And what was this weird shit about him being attracted to her
because
she might be a Demon Master? Wasn’t that what he was basically saying before he kissed her? How twisted was that?
And how twisted is it that you
desire
him
, the little voice in her head answered.
You were basically ready to lie down in the mud and get naked with him even though it’s freezing ass cold out here, even though you knew he was dangerously close to the edge.
 

She was shivering. The temperature had dropped, the wind was still rising, and she heard the crack of a breaking tree branch not far off. She'd better get back to the house where she could agonize somewhere away from pointy, falling objects.
 

She looked at her car for a moment, longing to get in it and drive back to her house. No one could stop her. She wasn’t being held prisoner here. She wanted her own home, her own bed, her own life back. But she was in the middle of all of this, whether she wanted to be or not. And unless she stayed close to Daniel, it was unlikely Javier would keep her in the loop about the situation with Hunter. She couldn't walk away so long as there was any hope at all that she could still help out with retrieving Hunter.
 

With a sigh, she trudged back to the safe house, caught between hoping Daniel was already hiding out in his room so she could avoid him and hoping he was hiding out in hers, contrite and ready to rip her clothes off.

Chapter 21

Bree
was thoroughly tired out and confused by the time she woke up early the next morning. She had slept badly. As much as Daniel’s “This was a mistake” comment resonated with her, her traitorous brain kept replaying their kisses. Then there was the fun of wondering if she was, in fact, a Demon Master, not to mention the continual images of Hunter terrified and possessed again.

She padded quietly downstairs to rustle up some breakfast. Daniel was in the kitchen, working on a big plate of scrambled eggs. Nervousness sang through her when she saw him, followed closely by a visceral replay of last night's make-out session. Joe was not in evidence. He was likely still asleep, as it was only a little after six. She took refuge in being all business, in pretending last night had never happened. "Any news about Hunter?" she asked.

“Nothing substantial,” Daniel replied, after a few hasty chews to clear his mouth of eggs. “Joe left me a note. No joy from the Keepers trying to follow Franchesca after last night, no new request for a meet, and no hint of Hunter’s location. That's the word as of late last night." He put a hand on the newspaper folded up next to his plate. "Apparently the paper is reporting this morning that there was a clash between rival gangs at the Trolloween last night. Fortunately, no one was killed. I was worried about that.”

“Me too,” she responded. She sat down and poured some orange juice from a carton sitting on the table into a waiting glass. She was relieved Daniel seemed calm, especially given how dark his energy had been last night. She wasn't sure what to make of the change. Maybe he'd managed more sleep than she had. And maybe it wasn't demon burn making him so emotional and unpredictable.
 

They both avoided eye contact, and an awkward silence fell. Bree found she had no desire to read him. And she literally couldn’t open up her mouth and speak of what had happened between them, although she’d imagined a hundred ways of doing so as she tossed and turned in bed last night.
 

He broke the silence by saying, “It really sucks, being on the sidelines like this. I know I’m retired, but it’s hard not to be more in the information loop. The Keepers want to protect me because I used to be one of them, but they don’t know me, and they don’t quite trust me either.”

“I know how you feel. It seems crazy to be hiding out in this house, waiting for someone else to find Hunter.” Bree forced herself to take another sip of juice. The idea of eggs made her stomach turn, and toast wasn’t looking that appetizing either. However, she knew she needed to eat to get her power back up, should have eaten last night. So she got up and pulled a piece of bread from the package on the counter, and began to pick at it.

Daniel swilled down some coffee and said, “Yeah, well maybe we need to get out of this house. There’s been no sign the Keltoi have been able to do a locate on it, and I didn't find anything on the sweep I did when I got up. Joe said there are some trails in the park out back. Maybe we should go for a walk, work out the kinks.”

And maybe we should talk, privately, was the meaning behind that little invitation. Bree was frantically making up excuses to avoid it even as her lips said “Good idea." She finished the bread quickly, and went upstairs to fetch her coat. Lord, she did not want to have this conversation. She couldn’t think of a way it could have a good outcome. Nevertheless, she followed Daniel outside, into what was a surprisingly still morning, because she knew that delaying it wouldn’t really help things either.

He led the way onto a narrow trail Joe had pointed out to him. It went downhill into a forested ravine. Douglas firs rose tall on all sides, blocking out much of the cloudy grey morning light. There were vine maples and large sword ferns in the undergrowth, along with a good selection of mosses and lichens. Evidence of last night’s storm showed in the large number of fir branches downed along the trail. Droplets of water released randomly from the tree canopy, gentle leftovers from the rain. Neither of them spoke, concentrating instead on navigating the muddy slope.
 

Finally, the trail leveled out at the bottom of the ravine. There seemed to be no one around. A little further on they came to the salmon stream that ran through the park. The clouds parted, and rays of sun came enchantingly down through the trees.

Daniel paused beside the creek in a beam of sunlight, hands in jacket pockets, one foot up on a rock, and breathed in deeply. “This is beautiful,” he commented, looking around. “It’s hard to believe something that feels this wild is in the city. It looks somehow primeval compared to the woods I grew up in back home.” He turned to look at her and said softly, “I really don’t know the most basic things about you. Did you grow up around here?”

“North of here, in a small city called Bellingham, about an hour and a half drive,” Bree answered. “These are definitely the kind of woods I grew up in.” She felt skittish and vulnerable under his attention, but at the same time, couldn't drag her eyes away from him, couldn't stop thinking about the wild heat of their kisses.

“You look like you belong here,” he commented. He took his foot off the rock and walked the few steps it took to stand directly in front of her. He took a hand out of his pocket and ran his thumb along her cheek. “You have forest eyes,” he murmured. “Gold and brown lace over green.”

Bree stilled. This was a far cry from the anguished, impulsive interchange of last night. Her eyes searched his, and she felt strangely humbled, as if all her perceptions, all her reading of him, meant nothing, told her nothing. In this light, his eyes weren’t as black as they looked indoors. They were a very, very dark brown, with layers and textures that granted them depth.
 

Suddenly, he jerked his hand away and grabbed his wrist with his other hand. "Damn it, that hurt. It's Gelsenim. I told him to touch the rock on my bracelet if he had something to report about Hunter.” He looked at Bree apologetically. "It's bad timing, but I think I should call him on through."

"Yes, yes, do it,” Bree told him.
 

He looked quickly in every direction, and Bree did the same. There was still no one to be seen. Then he turned slightly away from her and called, “Gelsenim I call you! Come forth!”

The air in front of him shimmered, then a blast of heat hit Bree in the face as Gelsenim took shape, this time in his demon form, though a smaller version, more sinew and slinky strength than overwhelming, masculine mass. She wouldn’t have known him for the same demon, but Daniel didn’t miss a beat as he growled, “I thought I commanded you to cause me no pain when you touched the stone at my wrist.”
   

“That was mere discomfort,” Gelsenim argued, pacing restlessly along the edge of the creek. “You have not known the true pain I could cause.”

“Well, something certainly has you riled up,” Daniel said more thoughtfully, as he rubbed his wrist. "So, did you find out where Hunter is?"
 

“I am not Eldeku,” the demon rumbled.
 

Daniel backed a careful pace away from Gelsenim. “Has something, ah, upset you?” He glanced at Bree, and she nodded. The demon certainly looked agitated. They would have to proceed carefully if they were to get any information on Hunter.

“And what exactly is an Eldeku?” Daniel asked.

“I am not Eldeku!” the demon roared. Two crows took off cawing from the trees above at the noise, and Bree looked around nervously. All they needed, on top of an angry, unwarded demon was for a couple of normals to happen by on an early morning hike. Fortunately, there was still no one in sight.
 

Daniel hesitated, then said, “Right, so you’re not Eldeku. Who’s saying you are?”

Gelsenim turned whirling ember eyes on Daniel and said petulantly, “Tirakku says it. When next I have a host, I will crush that one!”

Tirakku had been the demon she’d exorcised a couple of nights ago, the one who'd possessed Kevin, and that man Justice before that. Hope unfurled inside Bree. If Gelsenim had spoken to Tirakku, perhaps he knew where Hunter was! She opened her mouth to ask, but Daniel forestalled her.
 

“Does Tirakku mistake you for another demon?” he asked.

“Eldeku is not another one, it is a thing, a slave! I, who am among the eldest, I who remember being one with the Seldenai, when there was no hunger, when we were free!”

“Tirakku was mastered by a Keltoi, just as you are, at times, mastered by me. So why does he call you a slave?” Daniel asked carefully.
 

“That one is too young to remember!” Gelsenim raged on. “That one was made here, in this realm.”

“Not in the realm you come from?”

The demon seemed to calm a little. He stopped his pacing and his form wavered briefly before settling back to his current one. “He comes of what you call ‘taint.’ One formed from a piece, inside of a host, a human host. These ones can be strong, but they are not intelligent. They are a lesser species.”

“What is Tirakku too young to remember?”

“The Seldenai,” the demon repeated. “Those to whom we were not slaves, but equals. We the heart, they the mind.”

Bree stepped up beside Daniel, who nodded at her to weigh in. “Is Daniel the mind to your heart?” she asked. Daniel shot her a surprised look. Clearly she had not followed the course of questioning he expected.

The demon wavered again, then settled into his human form, blond head bowed, shoulders slumped. “He is close,” the demon whispered, “close to the Seldenai, but he will not let me feed, so I hunger.”

“When you feed, or when you possess Daniel, it harms him,” Bree said gently. It was hard not to respond to the despair evident in the demon’s voice and posture, too easy to forget, just for a moment, the horrors this demon had been responsible for.
 

“It should not,” Gelsenim said more strongly, and looked up at her. “There is a close compatibility of energy. If he would but engage in certain activities, his energy would be strong enough to share permanently.”

“If by certain activities, you mean those you encourage in your hosts, that won’t work, Gelsenim,” Daniel broke in. Though he was clearly still trying to sound patient and reasonable, Bree caught the undertone of fear in his voice. It had to be unnerving to be told he had some sort of compatibility with a demon.