DAEMONEUM

by Laney McMann

  He had no idea why or how that had happened. The web had simply transformed in color, from vivid red to white, in less than a day. The lines reminded Cole of a constellation in the night sky. Drinking wine was probably a good thing. Kade clearly hadn’t noticed yet.

  Rubbing the headache from his temples, he wondered if they could just stay there. In Verona. If he could keep Kade hidden and live a life off the radar. It could work, he thought. He would walk away from the Primordial life for her. Walk away from all the madness. They could make it work. Kade loved Italy.

  With a sigh, he tilted his head and caught movement from the corner of his eye. A man, broad in stature, ambled along the river’s cobbled walkway two stories below.

  Cole slid off the chair, thankful he’d left all the lights off in the bedroom so as not to wake up Kade, and edged himself backward in a crab-crawl across the balcony and into the bedroom. The clock on the bedside table read 11:48 PM. It seemed a little late, depending on how one saw it, for anyone to be roaming alone down the river.

  Silently rotating forward on hands and knees, Cole watched as the man stopped, turned, and focused his attention on the open French doors of the balcony.

  Backing up again, he popped to his feet.

  “Kade. Kade, wake up.”

  She rolled onto her side, reaching for Cole, but her hand only brushed the slightly warm, empty sheet next to her. Her eyes opened in the dark like a shot. Cole stood next to the balcony French doors dressed in nothing but fitted boxer shorts. Her eyes opened wider. “What’s wrong?”

  “Come stand by me,” he whispered. The edge in his voice made all the hairs on the nape of her neck stand up. She was out of the bed and next to him in less than a second.

  His arm wrapped around her waist, and he eased her forward, toward the doors. The beveled glass glittered underneath the haze of moonlight. “Look.”

  Kade peered out. Below, along the cobbled walk that ran down the river, stood a man in a dark trench coat. Chills flitted up Kade’s spine and goosebumps rose across her bare arms and legs.

  “He’s been standing there for a few minutes—not sure how long, really,” Cole said, pulling his jeans off the chair and putting them on.

  “But I can’t be tracked here. Heru told us the villa was untraceable.” She shivered.

  “The villa is,” he said, “but Verona isn’t.” He pulled on a hooded jacket over his bare chest, his jeans hanging low and unzipped on his hips.

  Good, god. Kade eyed him, trying to keep her focus on the situation at hand, but it was hard to do. “When did you take your pants off?”

  “Have you tried to fall asleep in jeans?” His forehead knitted between his eyes. “And now is not the best time for you to be looking at me like that.” With a cute grin, he leaned forward, kissed her quickly, and zipped his jeans. Throwing the hood over his head, he zipped his jacket up his throat. “Especially when you have that on.” He gestured to her too-small boxer shorts and tank top, and reached for his socks and shoes.

  “It’s my pajamas, and wh—what are you doing?”

  “Going down there.” He slipped his shoes on.

  “Oh, no you’re not,” she hissed.

  He grinned, the cutest damn smile. “Yeah. I am.”

  “To do … what, exactly?” She threw her arms wide. “You’re alone. It’s not safe. Heru said for us to stay here.”

  Cole stood and put a hand on each of her shoulders, pushing her long hair away, and stared in her eyes. “I’ll be right back.” Kissing her forehead, he turned toward the bedroom door.

  “The last time you told me that I got attacked by Dracon.” Her words were cold, harsh. She meant them to be.

  Cole stopped, but didn’t turn to face her. “Kade.”

  She pulled on her jacket over her pajama top. “I’m going with you.”

  He turned around. “No.”

  “Yes.” She yanked on her jeans, her boxers bunching up around her waist, but she didn’t care, and reached for her shoes.

  “Kade. No.” His tone clipped.

  “Cole. Yes.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “You can’t protect me forever. What was all the training supposed to be for if you never wanted me to use it?”

  “Exactly that,” he said a little too loud. “I don’t want you to have to use it unless you find yourself in a situation alone, which I don’t intend on letting happen—which if I remember correctly, we already discussed.”

  “If you go down there,” she pointed, “I’ll be up here alone.”

  He groaned, jaw working. “Kade. You are safe up here.”

  “So are you. It’s both of us or neither of us. We don’t separate. We agreed.” She held his hard stare, pulse pounding in her veins.

  “Kade—“

  “I can’t lose you.” Her voice hitched, but she wouldn’t let it crack. “I can’t.”

  Cole let out a breath. Every hard-set feature of his expression softened, and his broad, tense shoulders relaxed.

  “You told me you were afraid of losing me,” she said. “That no matter what you did to protect me, it might not be enough. Well, I’m afraid of losing you. And I don’t want to add to all the pressure you’re under, so I try not to tell you that, but I am.”

  He glanced down and back to her face.

  “We’re together in this. We promised. I’m not some fragile girl.”

  “I know that.”

  “Then let’s go. Stop keeping me in the shadows.”

  He held out his hand, and Kade threaded her fingers through his.

  The night was cold, darker than usual with the chill of an incoming storm, the yellow moon only a distant sliver in the now starless sky. Cole closed the front door and locked the villa, one hand remaining on Kade’s waist.

  “Stay next to me,” he whispered. “No slipping and getting blasted off the ground this time.”

  “Really?” Kade couldn’t see his expression due to the darkness, but she heard the smirk in his tone.

  He leaned over and kissed her. “Really.” Inching along the stone exterior of the building, he tugged her behind him and stopped, peering around the corner toward the river walk. His body tightened, and he eased back.

  “He’s right there.” An irritated noise escaped his throat.

  “There could be more of them,” she said, remaining plastered against him and the side of the building. “Maybe we should split up.”

  He turned his head toward her, and even in the dark, his blank stare was obvious. “Hell. No.”

  “Fine,” she whispered. “It’s just an idea.”

  “A terrible one.” He glanced around the corner of the building again. “I don’t think there are more of them. Pretty sure this guy is a lookout. Likely tracking our whereabouts and reporting to someone.”

  “Like who?”

  Cole slid his hand down Kade’s arm, clenching her hand in his. “That’s the main question, right? We’re about to find out. On go, we move.”

  “‘K.”

  “You remember what you’ve learned?”

  She eyed him, gripping his hand.

  “Okay, fine. You remember everything I have no need to teach you?”

  She was still staring.

  “Fine. Stay with me. Go.” Cole let go of her hand and sprinted from behind the villa wall, Kade on his heels, so quick they left no sound of footsteps, only a red blaze, barely visible in the dark night. Before the man had even moved his head toward them, Cole had him on the ground, Kade standing over the guy with her foot on his throat.

  “Who are you and why are you here?” Cole growled in the man’s face.

  Dark, silvered eyes stared up, but no words came from the man’s mouth

  Kade pushed against his throat, and he squirmed in Cole’s grasp.

  “One more time?” Cole grinned.

  “I was sent to watch your movements,” the man croaked.

  Cole’s gaze lifted, connecting with Kade’s. “Gurgulio.”

  On a nod, she pressed h
arder. Gargoyle weren’t known for being brave, and their weakness was the throat as Cole had taught her. “Show your true form, or I’ll crush your larynx.”

  Cole smiled proudly. “Do you know what she is?” he asked the gargoyle.

  “Yes,” it croaked.

  “So, you know what she can do and you’re still in your human guise?”

  The creature’s eyes rolled upward as if straining to see Kade, and he shifted. Talons tore through human hands, horns split through skull, canine teeth cut over lips, and the crouched form of an ancient-looking gargoyle lay before them.

  Cole yanked the creature to its feet. “What’s your name?”

  “Beorhtric,” it said, large black eyes darting to Kade and away.

  “Who sent you to watch us?” Cole asked, not loosening his grip.

  The gargoyle glanced down and back up at Kade as if he couldn’t stop himself.

  Cole’s hand moved to the creature’s throat. “Why do you keep looking at her?”

  His large black-silver eyes focused on Kade again. “You look like him. We know the stories—all of us know,” he said, not shifting his stare. “What you were. What you now are. Some didn’t believe, some still don’t, but I see it.”

  “She looks like who?” Cole asked.

  “Her custos,” it rasped.

  Cole’s hand tightened around the gargoyle’s throat, its eyes bulging. “What did you say?”

  “The Keeper,” it breathed a shallow breath. “Her … father.”

  Kade released a harsh, involuntary breath, and stepped away from them with an unsteady sway.

  “Stay with me, Sparrow,” Cole eyed her and turned to the gargoyle. “Her father is dead.”

  “No,” the creature struggled, grasping at Cole’s hand around its throat. “He … survived your attack. Barely.”

  Kade’s hands went over her mouth, her mind spinning in a thousand loops. He can’t be alive.

  Cole’s brows notched. “Is that who you’re reporting to?”

  “No. We report to the Patriarchae.”

  His hand loosened a fraction, and the gargoyle sucked in a breath. “Where is he now?”

  “I don’t know. The Patrirachae only shows himself to a few. Not I.”

  “Are you the only one watching us?”

  “Yes. But more will come. Eventually.”

  Cole released the creature’s neck and let his hand drop his side. “Go on,” he said.

  The gargoyle stared, and hesitated for a second, before he bowed and took off down the river, taking flight over the city.

  “Why’d you let him go?” Kade walked forward, visibly shaken.

  “Not all Daemoneum are bad. Most gurgulio have no choice but to join ranks. They’re born into it.” He shook his arm. “That one wasn’t sent to fight, he was really old, he was only sent to watch and listen. And he answered my questions.”

  “But they’ll know where we are now,” she countered.

  “They already knew.”

  Chapter 18

  Pure white light shone off the clear crystal floor, the universe in all of its luminescent splendor twinkling underneath Warden Caelius’ feet. From every angle, bright stars glowed against the dark backdrop of the galaxy. Crystal pillars stood over twenty feet high, in a perfectly straight row before him, supporting a massive reflective building. Spires rose into the heavens, kissing the blackness of empty space, and he made his way up the glittering steps toward the entrance of Stella Urbem.

  Although beautiful in its own right, the Warden had never cared much for the Star City. The Celestial Plane was lovely in all its nebulous splendor; the city within appeared to be floating in midair, the cosmos surrounding it, as if watching. But this gave Stella Urbem a coldness that seemed out of reach, untouchable, and a bit inhuman. He’d never been able to warm up to it like so many other Primordial had.

  Under these circumstances, he really disliked it. The Star City housed the Eldership Council along with the elder generations of the Primordial race who had not chosen to retire. Many were even older than the Warden himself, which was to say, quite old, and if Warden Caelius had learned anything in his time on the Mortal Plane over the years, it was that sometimes new thinking and new ideas were often better than rigidly held doctrines. Perhaps he was getting soft—perhaps living among humans had warmed his heart in ways he hadn’t expected.

  As he made his way up the last few steps, a wide, expansive courtyard adorned with glass fountains, all spouting water into shallow pools, came into view. With all the crystal, water, and shining stars, everything appeared fluid and in motion. As within the Ward on the Mortal Plane in Rome, the Primordial’s Maxim embellished two large highly reflective doors:

  Ducunt volentem fata, nolentem trahunt.

  The fates lead the willing, and drag the unwilling.

  Shaking his head, the Warden focused his attention on the woman standing in the doorway, the only thing that wasn’t reflective or made of crystals. Her silver hair, though, blended in nicely with the surroundings. Dressed in a long off-white gown that flowed to the ground, she clasped her hands in front of her, and her steel blue eyes were steady on his face.

  “I was beginning to wonder if the summons was going to go unnoticed.” The woman’s mouth stretched into a straight, unfriendly smile.

  Warden Caelius chuckled lightly. “I have many more important things to take care of at the Ward. Ignoring your summons, however much I might have wanted to, was not on my list.” He came to stop. “I am here as asked.”

  The woman’s steely gaze roved the Warden from foot to face. “You’ve lost weight.”

  He shrugged.

  “You don’t look well.”

  He laughed again. “Well, thank you, Mother, I could say the same to you. Shall we?” The Warden gestured toward the doors. “Or would you rather I tell you once more that the Anamolia, Kadence Sparrow, is of no threat, so we can drop this, and I can be on my way? I am a busy man.”

  “The Anamolia is Kevin Sparrow’s child, the psychopath who called himself Dracon, a known threat to our cause for years,” she snapped. “An insider—as close to one of our own as can be until he himself Turned—how can his daughter be of no threat?”

  “Kevin Sparrow is Kadence’s uncle, not her father. We have been over this,” the man sighed. “Kadence’s father, Keith Sparrow, was killed in a car accident along with her mother. Kadence was a pawn and no more. We need to give her our full support, not treat her like a criminal. She did not ask for this fate.”

  “If she is no threat, where is she?” A tall man ambled through the doors of the Star City, dressed in cream colored robes, and stopped beside the Warden’s mother. “Hadriana,” he said, addressing her, “the Eldership Council can handle the case from here.” The man directed his gaze on the Warden. “Caelius.”

  “Elder Cato, it is pleasant to see you.”

  The man grinned, his wrinkled skin folding in the creases of his cheeks, his gray eyes bright and alive. “Is it?”

  Caelius chose not to lie, so said nothing.

  “Elder Hadriana,” the man said, “I am sure you have other duties that need attending. Caelius, follow me.”

  “Very well,” Warden Caelius said. “Mother, always nice to see you.” He passed her and entered the clear walls of Stella Urbem after Cato.

  The ceiling soared into the heavens overhead, so high it simply merged into the star-speckled blackness of wide-open space. Rows upon rows of hallways led into the interior of the city, Primordial dressed in the same off-white robes and gowns tended their business, talking among themselves.

  “You understand the Eldership is on to you, I hope,” Elder Cato said, keeping a brisk pace a couple steps ahead of Caelius.

  “In what way?” The Warden’s tone remained calm, light, as his gaze roved the crystal walls, staring at the infinite universe beyond. The Elders never seemed to notice the sheer marvel of the Celestial Plane—the home of the Primordial race. Perhaps living on the Mortal Plane among
humans had made the Warden too emotional. It was a risk, living in Rome—all Primordial knew it. Living among humans had a way of changing a person, for good or bad, but mostly for good, Caelius thought. There was a contagious warmth that radiated from within humans.

  Being chosen to guard the Planes was a necessary step in working through Primordial ranks to earn the right to take a position within the Star City among the Elders. It was an honor most aimed for—yet sadly, it seemed living in Stella Urbem stripped much of the human emotion from Primordial that might have been learned over time from living in the Mortal Plane. Caelius was positive it was due to the sheer coldness of this place. The lack of soft textures, blue skies, the sun. It was beautiful, but despite the crystal and light, it held an essential darkness.

  He was glad, and not for the first time, he had chosen to have Cole stay on the Mortal Plane in Rome as a child. Cole had been gifted enough to have easily taken up residence and a position within the Star City at a young age and forgo guarding the Mortal Plane from Daemoneum threats. But Caelius and his son, Spurius, had refused to allow it when the Eldership offered. This place would have ruined him. Cole was too good with too big a heart for Stella Urbem.

  “In what way are we on to you?” Elder Cato asked with contempt. “We understand your grandson has fled with the Anamolia. You don’t expect us to think this is a coincidence?”

  Caelius blanched but quickly recovered. “I am not especially concerned with what you think, Cato. Kadence holds no threat to us.”

  The man stopped. “She is a known Anamolia,” he sneered. “Threat or not isn’t entirely the issue. She holds secrets we need. Secrets we can use. And we plan to find out what they are.”

  “She is a child, Cato. A child born a Primori who lost her parents and had her blood tampered with as an infant. She has been through enough. Leave her be. We have larger issues to attend.”

  “Larger issues? She is the issue. She is a child with the blood of a devil. Raised by Dracon. She is indeed a Devil God.” Elder Cato opened a door at the end of the hall. “What issue could be larger than that?” he snapped. “The innocent girl could kill us all in a matter of seconds if she so chose! Not only did you aid and abet a known threat to Primordial kind, but you have allowed her to run off!”