Dr. Wolf, the Fae Rift Series Book 2- Demon Spiral (6 page)

The vampire’s red gaze met his. “Don’t bloody your knuckles, please.” His eyes shifted back to the floor.

Aleric followed his gaze to the first rays of sunlight that made a line on the floor near the door.

There was something about the light that made the situation sink in completely. The sunlight made it truth, a fact, inevitable. The Archdemon wanted Dartan dead, and he would wait until nightfall to ensure that it happened. There was no way out, and the line would continue to grow until the sun was directly overhead.

Aleric crossed the floor, his steps leaden. He sat down near Dartan, his gaze on the light.

Dartan cleared his throat. “So, Wolfie, what’s with you getting all intense when I mentioned your father before?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Aleric said.

“I didn’t imagine I would die in a cement cell with a flea-bitten mutt as my only friend,” Dartan shot back. “I win, so get talking.”

“I don’t know if I’d call it a win,” Aleric said. He glanced at Dartan. The vampire’s gaze didn’t move from the sunlight. Aleric sighed. “Fine. I didn’t get along with my dad.”

“Didn’t get along as in, ‘I dye my fur to express myself and my father just doesn’t understand?’” Dartan pressed.

Aleric traced a scar on the back of one of his hands. “Didn’t get along as in, ‘My father blamed me for my mother’s death and tried to sell me to Grimmel before her funeral.’”

“Grimmel the Grunt Troll? Owner of the Sludge factories?”

“That’s the one,” Aleric replied, keeping his voice level.

Dartan was silent for a moment, then said, “That’s harsh.” He glanced at Aleric. “Did you kill her?”

Aleric stared at him.

Dartan cracked a smile. “I’m kidding. Seriously. You couldn’t kill an imp if you tried, let alone your own mother.”

Aleric shook his head. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Your father selling you to Grimmel is ridiculous. Even my father would rather just poison me and leave me to die in the sunlight. Going to Grimmel’s is harsh. I hear the orphans who don’t work hard enough are fed to those who do.”

“That’s disgusting,” Aleric said.

Dartan lifted his shoulders. “That could’ve been you. You’re kind-of a wimp.”

Aleric let out a sound of disbelief. “This from a vampire who can’t stand an hour in the sun without dying.”

“That’s all vampires,” Dartan replied dryly.

“And your father thinks you’re the superior race,” Aleric said with a snort.

That brought a weak smile to Dartan’s face.

Aleric scrutinized him. Dartan’s eyes were so red they practically glowed. His face was so pale Aleric could see the outlines of the bones beneath. The fact that there was no color to the skin to reveal the veins said a lot about the state his friend was in. “You look terrible,” he said.

“Oh, good,” Dartan replied. “I was beginning to worry I wasn’t a real vampire.” He hunched over and a groan escaped him.

“Are you alright?” Aleric asked in alarm.

Dartan shook his head. His voice was tight when he replied. “For some reason, my body devouring itself isn’t a pleasant sensation. I can feel my organs shutting down.”

As Aleric watched, the vampire pulled his knees close and rested his forehead on them. His hands clung weakly to his legs.

“Dartan, stay with me,” Aleric said.

The vampire didn’t answer.

Aleric watched the sunlight draw closer. With each hour, the sound of Dartan’s breaths became weaker as though even the light reflecting off the cement was enough to progress his deterioration. Aleric knew that if he offered for Dartan to drink his blood, the vampire would refuse. The only chance he had to save his friend was to wait until Dartan was too weak to refuse. Aleric concentrated on what passed for the vampire’s heartbeat. The steady whooshing became fainter until Aleric couldn’t take it any longer.

“Dartan, drink my blood,” Aleric said.

He thought the vampire wouldn’t respond. The dry rasp of Dartan’s voice sounded like a fall breeze through the last leaves that clung stubbornly to their branch and refused to join the others on the cold, hard ground.

“Don’t…tempt…me.”

Aleric held out his wrist. “Do it. Now. I’m not going to sit here and watch you die.”

“Yes…you are,” Dartan replied without lifting his head.

Aleric waved his hand in front of the vampire. “Come on. You know you need it.”

Dartan moved his head back and forth in a weak refusal. “I won’t…break the treaty.”

Aleric gaped at him. “The treaty? It doesn’t even exist in this world. I’m giving you permission to drink my blood. Take advantage of it. It’s the only fae blood you’re going to get.”

Dartan was silent for a few minutes before he forced out the words, “I won’t be…like my father.”

The words gripped Aleric’s heart. The vampire’s resolve scared him.

“You could never be like your father,” he replied. “Lord Targesh hated you for a reason.”

The smallest chuckle sounded from the vampire, then cut off as if smothered.

“He hated you because you have a heart,” Aleric continued. “You care about this world and Blays. You fought him to protect the humans, and you sent your people back to Blays so they wouldn’t hurt anyone else. You are a good person, so bite me.”

Dartan gave a faint snort. His muscles tensed as if he wanted to lift his head, but he gave up when nothing happened. “Thank…you,” he said in a whisper.

“For what?” Aleric asked.

The silence that followed the werewolf’s question felt exceptionally long. The sunlight had crept past the halfway point on the floor before Dartan spoke.

“For giving me…a second chance,” he finished.

Dartan’s hands slipped to the floor. His forehead rested heavily on his knees. His eyes twitched beneath his eyelids.

“Dartan?” Aleric said. Silence followed. Aleric grabbed the vampire’s shoulder. “Dartan!” he shouted.

When the vampire didn’t respond, Aleric looked around wildly for anything he could use. The room was void of any useful objects, or any objects at all for that matter. Aleric gritted his teeth. There was only one thing he knew to do. He brought his wrist to his mouth and bit down hard where the veins ran below the skin. It hurt far more than he thought it should, but he didn’t stop until he tasted blood.

He grabbed Dartan’s dark hair and pulled the vampire’s head up. Aleric held his hand in front of the vampire’s face. Dartan’s eyes didn’t so much as flicker. Worried that he had waited too long, Aleric shoved his bleeding wrist against the vampire’s mouth.

His ears strained to catch any sound from the vampire’s heart. He couldn’t feel Dartan’s breath against his skin. Perhaps he had waited too long. The thought was too much to bear.

Dartan’s shoulders jerked and Aleric heard the faint sound of a heartbeat. The vampire lifted his head for the blood that touched his lips to enter his mouth. Dartan’s eyes opened just enough for him to see Aleric’s bleeding wrist. He bent forward. A breath caught in Aleric’s throat at the feeling of the vampire’s fangs piercing his skin.

Dartan sucked in. The motion was weak at first, then strengthened with each draw. The vampire’s hands moved to grip Aleric’s hand and arm, holding his wrist in place. Dartan drank deeper and Aleric felt the tingle in his hands and legs that told of blood leaving his body. He tried to pull away. Dartan let out a sound that was more of a growl than anything close to human. Aleric’s instincts screamed for him to fight back, but he told himself he had almost waited too long for the vampire to drink. He was glad to see his friend alive.

The gratefulness Aleric felt slipped into a numb acceptance. The voice in the back of the werewolf’s mind warned that he was being lolled by the vampire’s power. The vampire’s mind control shouldn’t have worked on him, but he trusted Dartan. That trust might be the last thing he ever knew.

Aleric’s head lolled forward and chills ran from his arm down his body. Black spots filled his mind along with a rushing sound like waves pushing against a distant shore. Aleric closed his eyes and felt the blanket of unconsciousness cover his thoughts.

Chapter Six

“Aleric, wake up. Wake up, you idiot.”

The muttering brought consciousness back to Aleric’s mind.

“Seriously? Pulling something like that? You’d think a werewolf would have more of a sense of survival. You think you can have faith in my good nature? I’m a vampire. I don’t have a good nature, remember?”

Aleric was aware of a hand roughly shaking his shoulder.

A hiss of pain sounded from the vampire. “If I was dead, this wouldn’t hurt so much. I should point that out the next time Wolfie makes one of his pulseless jokes.”

Aleric opened his eyes a crack. The light in the room felt like needles driving into his eyeballs. He closed his eyes tight and brought a hand to his head. A groan escaped him at the way his head pounded.

“Of course you have a headache, you idiot,” Dartan said. There was something different to his tone, a hint of apology. “You let a hungry vampire suck your blood. That’s much different than a well-fed vampire sucking your blood. Trust me, I know the difference. Control has a great deal to do with it.”

He heard the vampire crouch beside him. The hand touched his shoulder again. “Are you okay?”

Aleric pushed up slowly to a sitting position. He was aware of how hot his clothes were. When he opened his eyes again carefully, he saw that the entire room was filled with sunlight.

“Are you?” he croaked out.

Dartan let out a single laugh. “Yeah, I guess. If you call sucking my best friend’s blood to the point where I almost killed him alright, then I’m fine, splendid, really.”

“But how?” Aleric asked. He glanced back at his friend. The movement made his head hurt.

Dartan stood in the corner of the room. Even at the sun’s highpoint, the sunlight cast just enough shadow that the vampire could stand on his tiptoes in the corner and avoid the worst of it. He definitely looked singed. His skin was red and a few patches showed black, but he was alive.

“I guess they didn’t figure that the sunlight isn’t completely centered,” Dartan said.

“I’m hoping they didn’t have a reason to test it out,” Aleric replied. He pushed back so he could lean against the wall.

Dartan reached down to help him. Aleric could hear the sizzle of the vampire’s flesh in the sunlight.

“I can do it,” he said. “Stay in the shade.”

Aleric sat against the wall for a moment with his eyes closed. When he was certain he could open them again without the world spinning around, he glanced at Dartan. “So what’s the plan?”

“That’s it?” Dartan asked with exasperation in his voice. “That’s what you’re going with?” He took a step toward Aleric. When the sunlight fell on his shoulders, he cringed and ducked back into the shade. “You let me suck your blood, Aleric. You waited until I couldn’t refuse, then gave me your bleeding wrist, and all you have to say is, ‘So what’s the plan?’”

The vampire’s vehemence surprised Aleric. “I wasn’t about to sit there and let you die if I could do something about it.”

“So what about me?” Dartan shot back. “How was I supposed to feel when I came back to myself just in time to realize I had probably just sucked my best friend dry? Were you really going to leave me with that?”

“To be honest, I thought I could stop you before that,” Aleric said quietly.

“Why didn’t you?” Dartan’s tone said he guessed why.

Aleric pulled his knees up. He toyed with the rip in his scrubs. “I couldn’t, then I didn’t want to.”

Dartan let out a growl and hit the wall. “That’s not how it’s supposed to be.”

Aleric kept silent. His mind was clearing from the fog of blood loss. If he and Dartan were both still alive when the sun went down, that definitely changed things with the Archdemon.

“We kill you,” he said aloud.

Dartan snorted. “Now? It would have been easier to just let me die before.”

Aleric glanced at him. “I don’t mean for real. I mean we fake your death. Make it look like you burned up. You were supposed to, right?”

Dartan nodded. “I suppose.”

“So let’s make it look like that’s exactly what happened.”

Aleric pulled the shirt off over his head. He motioned for Dartan to do the same.

“You don’t think they’ll notice it’s two shirts?” the vampire asked skeptically.

“I’m hoping they won’t have a reason to look that closely,” Aleric replied. He rose slowly and waited for the room to stop spinning again before he picked up Dartan’s shirt. He took the two shirts and crumpled them before he set them along the far wall. Aleric cross to the door and surveyed his job. From the short distance, the mound could be mistaken for a body if one didn’t look too closely; at least he hoped so.

“Now what?” Dartan asked.

“Now, we wait,” Aleric replied. “If your theory’s right, they’ll come back when the sun goes down and they are certain to be rid of one of us. It’ll give us some time to answer the most important question.”

“Which is what?” the vampire pressed.

“If the Archdemon is here and he has an unlimited supply of humans, why does he need me?”

Aleric’s question hung in the air. Dartan shifted from foot to foot in his corner, but he didn’t move from the shadow. When the sun sank lower, he took advantage of the extra shade to lay down. Neither of them spoke or moved. They conserved their energy for whatever the evening would bring.

Night had turned the sky to a dark canvas, the moon had passed over the glass-ceilinged room, and the sun was starting to rise once more when Aleric heard footsteps.

“They’re coming,” he whispered.

“Finally,” Dartan replied, taking his place behind the door.

They had made several plans. Aleric wasn’t sure which one the vampire would go with. If they blew their cover by him attacking, they would never find out what the Archdemon wanted and the city would still be at risk from the goblins. But Dartan had to make it out of the room. Aleric’s only hope was to distract whoever came so that the vampire could escape.

The sound of a key in the lock made Aleric’s heart race. He leaned against the wall closest to the door and waited. It opened outward slowly.

An ogre poked his overly large head inside.

“Whew!” Aleric waved his hand in front of his nose. “I hoped that if any of your kind made it through the Rift that your smell would stay behind in Blays.”

“Shut your mouth, werewolf,” the ogre growled. His beady eyes flickered to the crumpled shirts along the far wall. “Good,” he said with a satisfied grunt.

Aleric gritted his teeth, but didn’t reply. He crossed his arms over his bare chest and pretended not to care.

“Walk,” the ogre commanded.

“Seriously? Ordering me around?” Aleric asked. “Aren’t we a little more humane than that?”

The ogre held the door in one massive hand. “No listen, you stay here.”

He made as if to shut the door again.

“Okay, fine, I’ll walk,” Aleric said. “But I still don’t think ordering other people around is civil.”

“You werewolf. Dog, not civil.”

Dartan gave a barely perceptible snort of laughter.

Aleric fought back the urge to glare at him. He turned his gaze on the ogre instead. “Was that a joke? I sure hope so, because if not it was quite rude. I didn’t think ogres were prejudiced, but I’m going to have to change my opinion. Do you really want your bigotry to cast a shadow on your entire race?”

The ogre glared at him. “Go on. Master Pravus doesn’t wait,” the ogre said.

Aleric stepped into the hallway. “What you mean is that Master Pravus doesn’t like to wait. He is obviously waiting.”

“Huh?” the ogre asked.

Aleric glanced behind him to see the metal door standing open. Dartan peeked through. Aleric waved behind him so the ogre wouldn’t notice.

“What I mean is that everyone waits. Even an Archdemon overlord has to wait once in a while,” Aleric continued, distracting the ogre from hearing Dartan’s nearly silent footsteps.

The door stood at the end of a very long hallway without any other entrances, so Dartan was forced to follow them. Aleric couldn’t see another way out than the one they were traveling. If the ogre’s big ears picked up any sound from the vampire, they would both be in trouble. Aleric didn’t entertain the hope that the two of them could take down the hulking beast. Dartan was weak from his burns and Aleric had nearly been drained of his blood. Their best hope was stealth and Aleric’s mouth.

“Speaking of waiting,” Aleric continued, “Don’t you think you could have provided a couch or something in the room back there? That was an extremely long wait on a cement floor. I don’t know if you’ve sat long on a cement floor, but it gets very—”

“Silence!” the ogre roared.

Back in Blays, Aleric would have turned tail and run in the face of an enraged ogre, but Dartan’s life depended on him continuing to distract the hulking Dark fae beast.

Aleric swallowed down his fear and said, “Silence is an interesting word. It’s very individual, if you think of it that way. I mean, silence for one person may be the quiet patter of pixie feet overhead, while for another any sound at all could be too much. In speaking the word itself, one is actually destroying the very thing one hopes for upon saying it. It’s quite the conundrum, if you think of it that way.”

Aleric was sure the ogre was about to hit him. Luckily, they had reached the end of the hallway. The ogre practically tore the door off the hinges in his haste to get through. Aleric followed and was relieved to see several dark hallways branching off of the one they entered. A glance back showed Dartan slipping into the shadows. For the first time, Aleric was glad demons were creatures who preferred the dark.

The ogre glanced at him after they had turned down several different hallways.

“You quiet.”

Aleric shrugged. “You asked for silence.”

The ogre gave a snort.

Aleric hid a grin.

At the next hallway, huge mirrors lined the walls.

“I’ve heard demons like to admire themselves, but isn’t this a bit much?” Aleric asked.

The ogre glared at him.

The werewolf held up a hand. “Silence. I know.”

He made a face in a mirror they passed. A demon face loomed up behind him. Aleric spun around, sure he would see the demon in the hallway, but it wasn’t there. When he glanced back at the mirror, it was empty.

“Did you see that?” Aleric asked.

“Silence,” the ogre grunted.

Aleric let out a frustrated sigh. He glanced in the next mirror. The four long gouges from the demon Forsythe’s claws stood out as scars along his chest. Aleric was grateful his ability to heal quickly as a werewolf still worked in the human world. If he healed the way the patients in the hospital did, Dr. Worthen would still be re-doing his stitches.

A demon’s face appeared behind him. Aleric glanced over his shoulder, but again the demon was a figment in the mirror; or at least, Aleric hoped so.

Overhead, dark windows lined the wide ceiling. Demons and other Dark fae were fond of starlight. Shutters had been closed over the glass to keep out the light of the rising sun. The thought of demons standing by in front of the mirrors with the starlight overhead was a disturbing one. Aleric had seen Forsythe at his most powerful. He didn’t want to imagine more demons with the strength of night upon them.

The ogre reached another large door at the end of the mirror-lined hallway. The Dark fae reached up a massive fist and gave one solid knock.

“You sure they heard you?” Aleric asked. He fought down a rush of adrenaline. He had never met an Archdemon before. He couldn’t fathom any way in which such a meeting would end up positive. “Perhaps you should knock again,” he suggested.

The ogre ignored him.

A moment later, the door creaked open with enough ominous groaning Aleric wondered if the door had been bewitched to cause fear in the hearts of the Archdemon’s victims.

“Some oil would help that,” Aleric remarked in a forced nonchalant tone.

The ogre shook his head without looking down and muttered, “Stupid werewolf.”

“I’m standing right here,” Aleric pointed out.

He stepped into the great room and paused. He heard the ogre give a grunt of laughter. The Dark fae’s massive hand shoved him forward.

“Enjoy, little mutt.”

Aleric stumbled forward and nearly landed on his knees from the force of the ogre’s push. He steadied himself and stood. When he straightened, it was impossible not to stare.

Forsythe had been the first and only demon Aleric had ever met. He had heard of Archdemons. Tales of them were whispered in the back alleys and hovels of Drake City. But no one spoke louder than a hushed voice because the citizens of Blays feared to evoke the wrath of the Archdemons, or even more frightening, their Queen, Ashdava. Yet standing before the Archdemon Pravus, Aleric couldn’t imagine a more terrifying sight.

The Archdemon who sat in the throne across the room was twice as tall as Forsythe. His huge, lava-patterned body was wrapped in black robes that flowed around him like a living creature. The demon’s hands and face writhed with the lava flowing across his body in red, orange, and black, making him glow with an otherworldly light. Aleric was amazed the Dark fae’s robes didn’t catch fire from his burning skin.