Demonstorm: Heart of a Vampire #6 (3 page)

It would be nice if seeing came with instructions on how to interpret images.

She sank onto the bed, her stomach quivering at thoughts of what she would say in just a few hours.

Already, Brüs suspected the few visions she’d shared the past few days were tinged with falseness.

But she dared not give him the truth.

That path led to such incomprehensible death and destruction it nearly made her weep. Since the night of the last party, the things she’d
seen
had become terrifying.

A flash of the Earth. Scorched and decaying.

The demon realm. Deserted and in ruins.

Everything… and everyone…

Dead.

She contemplated trying to escape yet again. Her hand drifted to the collar at her throat. Every time before, when she’d tried to run, the power of the collar had sent her right back to the front door. And wearing the damned thing prevented her from using her own magic.

With a sigh, she laid back, staring at the ceiling without really seeing it.

There didn’t seem to be any way out.

Her bedroom door banged open, making her jump. She sat up, assessing the shadowed figure in her doorway. Slowing her racing heartbeat, she said softly, “I am Brüs’s prophetess, not one of the entertainment. You have lost your way.”

“You’re the Seer?” The man’s deep, gravelly voice sent a shiver of unease skittering along her spine.

“I am. Therefore you must realize I’m protected.”

The man was so tall, he had to duck beneath the doorway. Dark hair framed a handsome, masculine face. Dark stubble covered a strong jaw line. Gray eyes, hard as stone, focused on her with an undeniable intent. The iris was ringed with a band of demon black. But… inside that slim color laid another ring.

Red.

Her mind finally made sense of the man’s scent. Her heart stuttered, stopped. Then, with a rushing pace, it resumed, thumping against her ribs. “Half-breed,” she whispered, jumping to her feet and racing for the bell that would sound the castle alarm.

* * *

“Damn it,” Sean growled, lunging to intercept the woman. He grabbed her around the waist, pinning her arms to her sides.

Though he didn’t know much of demon kind, and he hadn’t really thought this through, he hadn’t expected such a violent reaction to his being a half-breed. Not from another demon.

She kicked at his shins but her bare feet didn’t hurt. He tightened his arms.

All at once, she slumped in his grip. Worried he might have hurt her, he moved toward the bed, loosening his grip.

Sharp teeth sank into the meaty part of his forearm.

“Hey!” he shouted.

Before she could try any more tricks, he pushed her down on the bed. She struggled, nearly freeing one of her arms.

So he laid on her, his weight pinning her to the mattress.

She stiffened, becoming still as death. Then she screamed, the sound muffled, as she once more twisted and turned, trying to buck him off.

“Will you hold still?” he demanded. “I’m not going to hurt you.” Not if he could help it anyway.

Unsurprisingly, she didn’t listen. She managed to free an arm and clawed at his face, screeching the whole while. Though demon nails held a poison that could debilitate anyone not of their kind, it didn’t affect Sean. After centuries of torture with such poison, he’d become immune.

She still managed to inflict plenty of damage, drawing blood.

Reaching between them, he grabbed her wrists, then jerked them behind her back. From his bag, he grabbed a hefty length of rope and tightened it around her hands and arms, nearly up to her elbows. See the hell cat escape that.

He rose, flipping her onto her back.

“If you scream, I will gag you,” he stated, his voice harsh. He hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

She nibbled her lower lip, eyes downcast.

Running a hand through his short hair, he glanced around the room, ignoring it when she drew her legs up, angling her feet to kick him.

“What do you want with me, half-breed? You aren’t one of Brüs’s men. Not even he would have one such as you.” Her voice was soft, yet completely unemotional.

Sean looked her up and down, biting his tongue at the anger searing the back of his throat. “I’m here to get you out.”

She laughed bitterly. “Good luck with that, half-breed.”

His anger flashed hot. It was a struggle, but he pushed it back and took a deep breath, calming the dark emotions his demon felt. It was like a gaping hole in his chest, yearning for sustenance.

What it wanted was destruction.

Death.

He was used to derisive suspicion—or attempted murder—from other Arcaine. Until this moment, he hadn’t even realized he’d hoped for a different reaction from a demon.

He’d never be accepted anywhere. By any one.

Well, knowledge was power.

He took another deep breath, pushing his demon’s yearnings down to the depths of his soul. “My name is Sean, not half-breed. And if you’d truly like me to leave you here, I’ll gladly do so. Say the word.”

She lay still, as if carved from alabaster stone.

A fleeting waver of emotion flashed in her gaze as she watched him from beneath the many braids—ranging in color from the deepest red to white blonde—that had fallen over her face. “What do you mean?”

“I’m here to get you out. Unless you want to stay.”

She blinked, struggling to rise on her elbows.

Even after her reaction, he felt a stirring need to try to help, but quashed it. He’d most likely only get another bite.

“Why?” she asked.

“Why what?” He studied her, a bit revolted at the heavy layers of gaudy make-up hiding what he thought might be delicate features.

“Why rescue me?”

“My clan was informed you are a prophetess. You have knowledge on some war that’s beginning,” he replied slowly.

Her lips tightened, the only show of emotion on her blank face.

He shrugged. “We were told to come get you and request your help with our cause.”

“Who told you about me?” Suspicion colored her blue-green eyes.

“An old witch. Jezamine.”

She lay back on the bed. “Who is the ‘we’ that wants my help? Vampire or demon?”

“Vampire.”

Thoughts flashed through her eyes, though her face remained an unreadable mask. “If this is true, untie me.”

“You swear not to make a ruckus?”

“I do.”

He wasn’t sure if he believed her, but he couldn’t haul a spitting, scratching—biting—wild cat all the way home. If they were to get out of here, he’d need her cooperation.

“Turn over,” he said.

After she did so, he watched her for a long moment. Her muscles looked relaxed, yet he had a feeling it was deceptive. Slowly, he approached the bed. Slipping the rope from her arms and hands, he stepped away before she could face him.

She sat up slowly, rubbing her wrists, watching him cautiously. “How is it you’re not crazed by your mixed blood?”

“Long story.”

“Hmmm. So Jezzie sent you to help me. How do you propose to do that?” She waved to the iron-studded collar at her neck. “This stops me from leaving the magical boundaries of the castle.”

He slowly drew closer to get a better look, while keeping alert for any tricks. The collar encircled her neck, the clasp either non-existent or invisible. “Have you ever tried to get it off?”

She shot him a look that stated he was an idiot. “Just about everything except decapitation. I figured that would defeat the purpose.”

He hid his grin at her sarcastic quip as he continued to look over the leather. “Demon magic, I expect?”

“What else.”

“I’m going to draw my katana. Don’t be alarmed.”

Once more she gave him a look that called him stupid. She must have perfected it centuries ago, it was so well done.

Drawing one of his blades from the sheaths on his back, he pointed the tip to the floor and held the handle close to the collar. His katana vibrated.

She gasped, glancing from the sword to his face. “How do you have earth magic?”

“My mother has Fey blood.”

“Has?” Her eyebrow rose. “So that’s the other part of your scent. You’re Fey.” Her lips curled up into a sardonic grin and with heavy sarcasm, she stated, “You are aware demons eat Fey?”

“I’ve heard tales,” he replied. He damn sure wasn’t on the menu for anyone.

“And still you came?”

He only shrugged. She didn’t need to know all his reasons for being here. As Sean held the sword closer to her neck, the blade vibrated harder. “This should work.”

“Assuming I trust you won’t slice my throat,” she replied.

“I’ll do my best not to.”

She stared at him for several long moments, as if internally weighing the pros and cons. Just when he was certain she would refuse his help, she sighed heavily.

Turning, she gave him her back, pushing her long, colorful braids to the side as she bowed her head. It gave him good access to the collar, but he still hesitated before sliding the tip of the blade between her porcelain skin and the leather.

There was a tug, as if the magic of the collar clashed with that of his sword. Then the katana slid through. The collar dropped onto the bed.

Mayah shot it a heavy look of revulsion, before standing. She rubbed her bare throat, the skin red and raw.

“How long have you worn that thing?” he asked.

Her blue-green eyes darkened to a smoky black. “Centuries.”

A spark of recognition flared to life inside him. He knew all too well what it was like to be captive, at the mercy of a terrible master, for so long. And how much it hurt to yearn for freedom that seemed forever out of reach.

All he said was, “Let’s go.”

She hurried around the room, grabbing a bag and stuffing clothes and trinkets in it, then headed for her door. Hand on the knob, she turned to face him. “Your clan wants my help?”

“Yes.”

“Fine. Then I have two conditions.” She opened the door, glanced both directions along the hall, then strode out.

He was freeing her, for crying out loud. One would think that would be enough. Hurrying to catch up, he kept his voice low as he asked cautiously, “What conditions?”

Chapter Three

M
ayah approached the shadowy stairs leading up to the ground floor, cautioning herself not to run just yet. If only she had her father’s weapons. But no, Brüs feared she’d use them against him. Which, she probably would have. Still, the sanction disallowing her a weapon of any sort had always been a minor issue when it came to the demon’s guests. They feared him enough to leave her be.

This man was either crazy or stupid. The fact that he was a half-breed and still coherent enough to speak logically was a dousing shock. But did he truly think she believed his words?

No one ever wanted her “help”. They all wanted to control her, to use her powers for their own gain.

She wasn’t stupid. She’d never willingly enter such a trap. Instead, she’d turn the tables. Use him for as long as she needed to get away from this damned place, then find true freedom.

Freedom to go rescue her brother from his own prison.

They could finally make their way back to the demon realm. Find if their father and other brother still lived.

But this man, with his Fey magic, could help retrieve her treasures from where Brüs kept it. Then she’d get free of them both.

At the top of the stairs, she stopped, listening to the quiet sounds of the castle. The man followed, silent.

She led him down a short hall, past the huge wooden doors leading to the dining hall she hoped never to see again. Five minutes later, they’d traversed one corridor after another, through the endless maze of the castle.

Brüs had built the place with the intent of keeping his guests lost. It amused him. But after centuries of being locked inside with few trips anywhere else, she could easily find her way.

“Where are we going?” the man whispered, impatient.

“I need something before we leave,” she finally replied.

“Nothing can be important enough to risk capture.”

She arched an eyebrow.

He sighed and waved her on.

Surprised at his reaction, she continued down the hall. Another five minutes and she stopped in front of a stone wall, the dead end of yet another hallway.

“What now?” he demanded. The harshness of his voice lost effect coming on a whisper.

With a thin smile, she reached up and pressed one of the stones. A narrow section of the wall slid open, revealing a dark, dusty hidden passage. “Any self-respecting castle contains secret ways of getting where you want to go unnoticed,” she murmured. “We won’t be seen in here.”

Between the dust and cobwebs, it was obvious no one had used these passageways recently. For all she knew, Brüs had forgotten about them.