The Demon Within (27 page)

It scalded her guts like she’d guzzled acid. She tried to move, escape the pain, but it was impossible. Ruman shouted her name. The split-second distraction broke her concentration. Power swelled and propelled her backwards as if a giant fist had flattened her.

Pain emanated from the metal she held, but she refused to release it.

The dagger was hers. If she let go, it’d be lost.

Caly gasped for breath, jerking upright. Heart pounding almost out of her chest, she quickly scanned her surroundings.

Then blinked in surprise as she recognized her own bedroom.

Bracing for the worst, she glanced down. The pommel of the knife rested securely in her palm. She opened her fingers, and they peeled away as if reluctant.

The knife from her dreams, the one he had promised her. She tested the balance, surprised the way the blade felt like it had been made for her.

Relief made her giddy, and she traced a finger along the ancient words. The blade shone brightly in the dim room as if illuminated from within, the cold light licking at her fingers in the almost prickly way of a cat’s tongue. Although she hadn’t recognized the design earlier, she easily translated the word. “Carnwennan.”

“Caly?” Ruman’s raspy voice emerged from the inky blackness, and her lungs forget how to function for a minute at the sound of her name.

She jerked her head up, relaxing when she picked out his reassuring shape in the shadows. The chair creaked as he straightened, and her heart leapt pathetically at seeing him again. Memories of the kiss clouded her mind, her body shivering as she relived the feel of his touch.

“You brought me home.” She felt exposed at being so vulnerable. He knew everything about her, all her ugly secrets lay exposed and he still saved her life. It left her floundering, uncertain where they went from here, especially since he remained across the room from her.

When she looked at him, hoping to gauge his reaction to what happened between them, it was to find the shadows clinging to him as if hiding him from her. The distance between them grew frosty at his continual silence. When he didn’t try to touch her, a burst of fear hiccupped in her chest.

Ruman stood without a word, took a step toward her, and she wasn’t sure she was ready to hear what he had to say. A piece of paper fluttered to the floor, but it was his clenched fists that drew her gaze, the rigid way he held his body.

Caly scooted back on the bed, completely at a loss at what to expect. His clothes were wrinkled, his face pale in the darkness. There was no warmth in his expression at all, his eyes as hard as agate as he surveyed her form. It was like all of the intimate moments between them never happened. Looking at the ghost of the man she’d touched and kissed not so long ago made the back of her throat ache in loss.

As he reached the bed, a light blue color flared from the steel, highlighting the design crafted on the blade, startling her so badly she nearly dropped the knife. “What is it?”

“It senses demons. Blue for demons, red for danger.” His words were clipped, his tone carefully neutral, but at least he was talking to her.

“You mean like that hobbit movie?”

He grunted, clearly not pleased with her fascination. “What movie?”

“Never mind.” He felt so human to her at times that she forgot movie references would be alien to him. She rubbed her arms, the distance he put between them a physical chill that put a nip in the air.

When she glanced up again, it was to see his back disappearing out the door. Disheartened by his lack of response to her, she stared unblinkingly down at the blade without really seeing anything. What did she expect? That the kiss had changed things between them?

To avoid moping, Caly threw back the covers, a little surprised to find herself dressed in just her bra and panties. She shucked on the first pair of pants she snatched from the dresser then slipped her standard t-shirt over her head, her attention drawn to the mysterious piece of paper on the floor.

Curiosity got the best of her. Pulling the shirt down, she went to investigate.

The small square was folded in half. She picked it up, noticing the crease worn to the point of falling apart. She smoothed open the glossy image and stopped in shock to see herself staring back at her. The picture she’d tossed in the fireplace.

The floor outside her room creaked.

Caly hurriedly closed the picture and tucked it into the side cushion of the chair. For some reason it was important that he didn’t know she’d found it. It felt too much like looking into a stranger’s underwear drawer, but the thin ice that had crept over the edges of her heart warmed. He still cared.

The door opened without a knock. She whirled, crouched with the dagger poised to strike.

“Whoa, it’s just me.” Jarred held up one hand, the other held his medical bag. He stopped with one foot in the room.

“Sorry.” A little disconcerted at his observation, Caly turned toward the dresser and rummaged inside in search of a sheath to avoid his too probing stare. “What do you want?”

“There’s my friendly Caly.” He closed the door and crossed the room. He set the bag on the bed and sat next to it, waiting patiently.

Unsatisfied with the selection, Caly slammed the drawer. “What?” Exasperated at the hide and seek, she turned to face him. He wanted something from her, and she’d be damned if she’d let him beat around the bush about it.

“You were unconscious for days. We were preparing ourselves for another funeral.”

“Days?” Her throat croaked. What the hell happened? Ears ringing, Caly whispered, “How long was I here?”

“Two days. The poor guy was frantic when he called, saying he couldn’t wake you. He had to travel with your body to Spain, then to France before he finally managed to charter a plane willing to take the medical risk to transport you back to the US.”

Skepticism trickled through her. That wasn’t the Ruman she knew. Her life meant his salvation, that’s all. He barely tolerated her. He almost appeared to hate being near her the way he avoided her. But then there were the times when she would catch him staring at her in complete bafflement. Not to mention their kiss.

Her heart dipped then jumped up in her throat. Despite knowing about her past, could he care for her? She pushed aside that thought and how desperately she wished it were so.

“You’ve been out for four days. He hasn’t left your side.” Jarred opened his bag. “And none of the tests I ran on you showed any sign of disease or sickness.” He held up a vial of blood. “The only anomaly is this.”

Like a pendulum on a clock, he rocked the vial back and forth. “Your blood has changed.”

Disbelief froze the denial that climbed in her throat. She would’ve called him a liar, but Jarred never lied. Caly licked her suddenly dry lips, unsure if she wanted to hear the answer. “Changed how?”

He placed the vial back into his pack with precious care as if it were the elixir from the Fountain of Youth. “I’m not sure. The blood type’s the same, but the chemical make-up is skewed. If I didn’t know you, I’d say you weren’t the same person who’d left here.”

“What the hell do you mean? You know who I am.” She refused to allow her hurt to show. After everything she’d been through, all the sacrifices, how could they doubt her? The implications of his statement ate away the last of her frayed nerves. They must have found out about the demon infection. It was the only answer.

Jarred took her triad, studying her like he was trying to see inside her head. “You’re the leader of our merry band of demon hunters. Always will be.” His half smile faded, and he nodded to her hand. “But since you came into contact with that thing, you’ve changed, adapted to it. I want to make sure that thing isn’t killing you despite what might seem like a blessing.”

So they didn’t know yet. That didn’t make her feel any better lying to them, even if it was for their own good. Caly crossed her arms protectively over the blade. “How?”

The door opened with a bang. Ruman stood there, his body rigid. “He wants to run some tests.”

Caly stepped away from them. She wouldn’t let them take Carnwennan from her.

“What kind of tests?” Gaze glued to Ruman, Caly couldn’t repress a shiver. She’d never seen him so furious. He masked his emotions so well, she’d often wondered if he felt anything.

Jarred stepped between them. “An unknown agent, a metal, has been found in your blood. Every time I try to extract it,” he shrugged, “it breaks down and is absorbed back into the blood without a trace. If I can narrow it down, I can determine if it’s killing you or if it’s something that can be duplicated.” He raised the syringe, silently asking for permission.

Caly forced herself to relax and submit.

“Done.” Jarred packed his bag.

“Let me know what you find.”

He looked at her over his shoulders. “Of course.” He shook his head and cracked the first genuine smile she’d seen since he entered the room. “I’m glad you’re back.”

Caly watched him grab his bag to leave. Her life was complicated enough. She didn’t know if she could handle more.

Jarred paused at the door. “Not only do you come back from the dead, you’re healthier than you have ever been in your life. Since you have never been sick, that’s impressive. Even your scars have disappeared.”

Caly glanced down at her arms to see that the white scars she’d received as a result of the car accident were gone. So were the ones Oscar had inflicted. She hesitantly touched the skin, marveling at the smoothness, uncertain how to feel to have something that had been so much a part of her identity erased.

The door snicked shut. She slowly lifted her head to find Ruman’s gaze fastened on her. All of the sudden, the room felt too small. He leaned against the wall, looking anything but casual. She forced her muscles to loosen, waiting for him to move first.

“Put down the knife.”

At the gravelly tone of his voice, she unconsciously tightened her hold. “Why?”

He straightened, stalking toward her with a predatory look that heated her body and called to something visceral in her.

“Do it.” The growl splashed through her system like two-hundred proof vodka.

Caly reluctantly did as told and set the weapon on the dresser. With her hands free, she feared she’d yank him toward her and take what she wanted.

Before she could so much as twitch, Ruman had her by her shoulders, his lips mashed to hers with more exuberance than finesse.

His mouth all but attacked hers, sucking, nibbling, tempting her to reciprocate. Unable to resist the onslaught, she grabbed his shoulders and hung on tight as the world dropped away. Then there was only him. The hunger to taste all of him consumed her, and she tangled her tongue with his.

As soon as she returned his caress, the kiss gentled.

He wound a fistful of her hair around his hand and drew her head back, startling her into gasping his name. Neck strained, chest heaving, she stared up at him.

Naked hunger and pain filled his eyes. His ferocious expression had a frightening aspect to it. “Don’t you ever scare me like that again.”

As much as she could, Caly nodded. His hold eased, his touch fell away as his hands slipped down her hair. Then he closed down. Though he didn’t release her completely, he put a distance between them she couldn’t bridge.

If she didn’t do something now, Ruman would never allow her close again. Taking advantage of his distraction, Caly looped her arms around his neck and hooked her legs around his waist. While he staggered under her extra weight, she tugged at the tie holding his hair prisoner.

“I believe this is mine.” Without giving him time to speak, she wove her fingers through his dark hair, luxuriating in the right to touch him.

Copying him, she yanked back his head and slanted her mouth over his. But instead of a hurried, rushed kiss, she took her time exploring him, the taste of him drawing her further under his spell. Sweet black licorice filled her senses. She didn’t think she could ever get enough.

She released his mouth and worked her way to his jaw, nibbling on his ear before sliding her lips down his neck. One of his hands supported her, while the other slipped under her shirt. His fingers brushed lightly against her skin, heat searing her at the barely there touch.

She tightened her legs to get closer, then sucked in a startled breath to feel his thick arousal.

Ruman’s hands moved to her hips and clamped down hard to prevent her from moving. Caly bit back a whimper of denied lust.

She looked up, and her breathing hitched at the wonder etched on his face. Slowly, watching his every reaction, she arched, pressing her lower body into his. The friction was painfully delicious, shutting down her brain. Instinct took over.

His fingers bit into her hips, his head tipped back, leaving her all that chest to explore. She slid a hand over the contours of him, marveling at the sleek muscles, enjoying the way he watched her under hooded eyes. Her palms tingled at the touch, and she resisted the urge to reach lower. He had a body that deserved to be savored slowly.

“Ever since I saw you as a statue, I wanted to touch you.” She traced his chest lightly with her fingernail, enjoying the way he tensed.

She lowered her head and kissed the skin exposed at the collar of his shirt. Giving into temptation, she rocked into him, biting back a groan of exquisite pleasure. His growl of approval sent another wave of near desperate need roaring through her.