Demon Kissed: Book 2 of the Venandi Chronicles (An Urban Paranormal Romance Series)

by Sara Snow

  Eli looked at me. “Maybe he was waiting till you were old enough to handle it. Anyway, it saved your butt tonight.” He put his arm around my waist and dragged me to the car. “Come on, let’s get out of here before Bebal tries to come back. We’ll get you cleaned up at the warehouse.”

  Every nerve in my body throbbed from the cuts, but I managed to limp to the car with Eli. Something that Bebal had said kept echoing in my brain.

  When all of our legions have joined us, your world will become Hell.

  If Bebal was right and our mortal world was going to turn into Hell, how would we banish all those demons? I’d banished a few of them tonight, but not a whole legion of them. They would be right here, no longer an invisible army but a constant reality.

  “I’m a believer now,” I told Eli. “We’re all in deep shit.”

  Jacob

  When we got back to the warehouse, I begged Eli not to tell my dad about the demons’ attack. I didn’t want my father to know that he’d been right, but more importantly, I didn’t want to scare him. He already knew that the demons were gathering all around us—he didn’t need to know that they’d almost killed his only son.

  I would ask my dad about the banishing power later. How long had I been able to do that? How many of those bastards could I banish at one time?

  Upstairs in my room, I ran a warm bath, then sank into the water with all my clothes on. Peeling those tatters off my skin would have been too painful, but the warm water gently eased them off my wounds. The water quickly turned red as the dried blood dissolved. I emptied the tub, then filled it again until the water was only slightly pink.

  Eli had brought me a salve that Olympia had made, some kind of rapid-healing miracle potion, he said. After I toweled off, I rubbed the salve on the knife wounds. The oily gunk smelled like a wet dog, and I whimpered as it sank into my skin.

  As if I needed more proof that Bebal and his goons were real.

  The human part of me, the part made of flesh, could have died tonight. At least the angel side was going strong. I had banished Bebal, just like my dad, but I knew it was only a matter of time until he returned—with even more reinforcements.

  9

  Jacob

  I slept for hours, but I didn’t get much rest. Nightmares about Bebal and the Tenebris kept me twisting and turning in the sheets. In my dreams, the minions chased me through the streets of Chicago—flocks of demons following me in the sky, while the ground soldiers chased me on foot. I tried to outrun them, but the soles of my shoes were coated with glue that stank like Olympia’s salve.

  That salve, as it turned out, really did work like a charm. When dawn broke, I gave up trying to sleep. When I got up to go to the bathroom, I saw that the bloody lacerations had turned into a cross-hatching of pink scars.

  Not bad, Olympia. I owe you one.

  It was a good thing I’d healed so fast, because I had a critical mission today.

  I found Georgia in Dad’s library, leafing through a slim, leather-bound book. As she studied the pages, she frowned and shook her head. A groove formed between her eyebrows whenever she scowled, and I took it upon myself to warn her about it.

  “Hey, Georgia. Did you know you get wrinkles when you frown like that? That line between your eyebrows is going to be six inches deep by the time you hit thirty.”

  Most girls would have killed me. Georgia just looked up and gave me a distant, unfocused stare. She greeted me as if she hadn’t heard a word I’d said.

  “What are you reading this morning?” I asked, approaching the table.

  She flipped the cover closed so I could read the title: Dictionnaire Infernal.

  “What’s it about?”

  “It’s a collection of illustrations of demons,” she said. “I’m not actually reading. Just looking at the pictures.” She opened the book again and pointed to an illustration of a guy riding a camel.

  “Supposedly, that’s my father,” she said. “Can you imagine finding a picture of your dad in an ancient dictionary of demons? I keep coming back to it, trying to make sense of all this.”

  Georgia’s lovely face wrinkled again. She really did look troubled, and I couldn’t blame her. I sat down next to her, not within touching distance but close enough to let her know that I was there.

  “Believe it or not, I know how you feel—sort of. My father’s a fallen angel, and according to Christian mythology, that makes him a demon. Satan was a fallen angel, too, you know.”

  Georgia gave me a startled look. “Kingston isn’t anything like Satan! He’s the most caring man I’ve ever met.”

  “Well, he might have gone the other way if he hadn’t met my mother. Falling in love with her made him who he is today. The love of a good woman saved him from damnation.” I spoke the last phrase in a country twang, just to make her smile.

  “I wish I had a father like Kingston,” Georgia said. “Instead, I got this evil son-of-a-bitch.” She pointed at the illustration of King Paimon.

  “Too bad we can’t choose our parents,” I said.

  “Well, at least you got lucky.”

  I had to agree that Georgia had gotten a raw deal in the parent lotto. My dad really was pretty great, while Paimon . . . well, he wanted to overrun the mortal realm and turn all of humanity into servants of darkness. At least he had ambition.

  I nudged Georgia with my elbow. “You know what you need?”

  “No, but I’m pretty sure you’re going to tell me.”

  “A workout. Sitting around staring at these old books is making you depressed. Let’s go train. That’ll get your blood pumping, and before you know it, you’ll be feeling a lot better. That always works for me.”

  Georgia closed the infernal dictionary or whatever it was called, and followed me to the training room. We warmed up with a little stretching, then jogged around the circumference of the room a few times. Jogging brought back images of my ill-fated run last night—it would be a long time before I ran alone at night again—but being with Georgia made up for the fear.

  What would she have done if she’d been with me last night? Would she have fought Bebal to save me, the way I saved her from that demon in the park?

  I was fairly sure that Georgia would have fought for me.

  When our muscles were nice and warm and loose, I asked Georgia what she wanted to do next.

  “Let’s do some hand-to-hand fighting,” she said. “I need to practice that, in case I’m alone somewhere and don’t have any backup or any weapons.”

  “Sure,” I said, trying to keep my tone as casual as possible. I had assumed she’d want to work out with the weapons, or maybe do some kick-boxing with the punching bag. But I was all in favor of doing anything hand-to-hand with Georgia.

  We started in a neutral position, facing each other. Then, we circled each other for a few moments, our eyes locked. I wanted to let Georgia make the first move, but I wasn’t about to let her win.

  Before I knew what hit me, the cambion had me on the ground in a chin lock. As she huddled over me, I tried to ignore the sensation of her breasts and hips pressing into my body. Instead, I channeled all my energy into regaining control.

  I hadn’t been prepared for anything like the speed and strength Georgia displayed as we wrestled on the mat. Whenever I tried to pin her down, she knotted her legs around my waist and flipped me over, or slipped out of my grip to take me in a chokehold. Miraculously, I kept my focus on the training instead of on the warmth and softness and scent of her flesh. I just pictured Bebal’s grotesque skull instead of Georgia’s beautiful face.

  We wrestled for what seemed like hours before I felt her start to slow down and weaken. Her grunts turned into short gasps, and her violet gaze lost some of its intensity. Finally, she fell back on the mat, wiping the sweat out of her eyes. Her cheeks were bright pink, and the muscles in her arms trembled.

  I wasn’t about to fall for that.

  I jumped her and got her in a camel clutch. Sitting on top of her, I locked her upp
er body by hooking my legs under her armpits. Then, I pulled her chin back, arching her spine. Little by little, I felt her submit.

  “I give,” she squeaked.

  “You sure?”

  “Yes, damn it! Let me go!”

  Very gently, I released her, waiting for her to turn on me again. But Georgia simply flopped face-down on the mat panting and closed her eyes. I lay down next to her and watched her body rise and fall with each breath.

  “Where did you learn how to do that?” she asked when she had finally recovered. “You kicked my butt.”

  “I felt inspired today,” I said.

  She rolled over on her side and opened her eyes. We were lying so close that I could see the delicate shadows of her eyelashes against her cheek and the facets of purple and blue in her incredible eyes. Her moist lips parted slightly as her breath slowed.

  God, I can see why Carter keeps stealing kisses from her.

  But I wasn’t Carter. I wasn’t going to take anything from Georgia that she wouldn’t give me of her own free will.

  “You know, you just gave me an idea,” she said. “I’m planning to take a trip. A long one.”

  “A trip? Where?” I echoed, trying to sound clueless.

  “Texas. It’s a personal thing. I grew up in foster care, and I never knew who my father was until now. But I did know my mother, at least for the first eight years of my life. Now I want to find her again.”

  “What happened with you and your mom?”

  “She wasn’t a mom,” Georgia said flatly. “She was a junkie. She couldn’t raise a child—it took too much time away from her heroin habit. So, I grew up in one foster home after another. I had this dream that someday I’d end up with a family that wanted me, that I’d be adopted, and my life would end up like a fairytale. Never happened. None of my foster parents wanted me, and the feeling was mutual.”

  “That’s hard to believe,” I said.

  I remembered what Jose had said about Georgia kissing a woman who looked like a skeleton, and now it made sense. Georgia’s mom wasn’t just wasting away physically—her soul had shriveled up long ago.

  “Not when you lived it for ten years,” Georgia said with a bitter laugh. “I know there are some good foster parents out there. People who dedicate their lives to giving kids a loving home. But somehow, I always ended up in the monsters’ dens.”

  Georgia’s eyes were focused on a point beyond my head, as if she were gazing into her past. I tried to imagine how anyone could have harmed her or neglected her, but I just couldn’t see it. Hurting someone like Georgia would be like crushing a rare butterfly.

  “What do you want to get out of this?” I asked. “Do you want to confront your mother about giving you up?”

  “I don’t think I’ll know until I see her. All I know is that I need to reconnect with her. I want to feel whole. Does that sound crazy?”

  “No. Not at all. Like I said before, I’m right there with you. I know what it’s like to have one parent who’s human, and one who . . . well, isn’t. If I were you, I’d want to find her, too.”

  Georgia smiled at me, and the light in her eyes made my heart stop for a second. If I spent enough time around her, I’d probably go into heart failure. Which was okay with me, as long as she kept smiling.

  “Does that mean you’ll go with me to Texas? It’s going to be a long drive, and I’m not always the best company,” she warned. “I’ve got an army of demons on my ass, you know.”

  “Just try and stop me,” I said.

  Mission accomplished. I couldn’t wait to tell my father that I’d “convinced” Georgia to let me go to Texas with her.

  Georgia

  Wrestling with Jacob left me limp as a dishrag. It was almost as good as sex, and I didn’t even have to take my clothes off.

  When Jacob walked into the library that morning, my pulse had picked up. A layer of ice had formed over my heart when I found out that the Venandi had hid the truth about my background. But every time Jacob gave me that sweet smile, the ice melted a little.

  Most of all, Jacob understood me. He knew what it was like to be torn between two worlds—the world we can see and hear and touch, and the world of shifting shadows that lies behind it. Carter understood that, too, but when he talked to me about his past, it was always like he was giving me a sermon, telling me what to do or how to feel, because of course, he knew everything.

  Even though he knew about the nightmare of my childhood, Carter treated me like I’d grown up wrapped in a cocoon. It bothered me that he didn’t recognize me as a survivor or respect my ability to make my own decisions. Sure, I was young, if we were only talking about time. But in terms of the pain I’d experienced in the past, I had earned the right to think for myself.

  Jacob spoke to me like an equal. I could tell him about my feelings, my fears. Jacob listened. Carter lectured.

  But when I fell asleep at night, Carter was the one who haunted my dreams. The hungry intensity in his dark eyes made my body hum with anticipation. I knew that someday those kisses would turn into lovemaking. Once I let him drink from me, I’d sink into the abyss of those eyes and never come out.

  That day wasn’t here yet. For now, Carter still annoyed the crap out of me.

  The most annoying part was that I needed him to help me reach my goal.

  Georgia

  Swallowing my pride was tough, but I finally went looking for Carter. As it turned out, I didn’t have to look very hard—he and the rest of the team were all gathered around the table in the library. I hung back in the doorway, unsure if they wanted me to join them. Maybe it was just the neglected kid in me, maybe it was my demon heritage, but I still felt like an outsider when I saw them all together.

  When he saw me, Kingston stood, gave me a warm smile, and opened his arms.

  “Here she is,” he said. “We’ve been waiting for you, Georgia. Jacob will join us shortly.”

  Instead of the usual stack of books, a large metal bowl sat in the center of the table. The bowl was filled with wooden sticks and crumpled wads of paper.

  “Are we having some kind of ceremony?” I asked, sliding into the chair that Kingston pulled out for me. “If we are, Olympia should definitely be here.”

  “I wanted her to join us, but she’s away at the moment,” Kingston said.

  “I think she’s avoiding us,” Eli said. “She knows something’s up, and she’s afraid to get involved.”

  “What is it?” I asked. “Why are you all staring at me? Tell me what’s going on.”

  There was a strange electricity in the room, a current of excitement that ran through the group. Even Jose, who’d been looking so anxious lately, had perked up.

  “Can I tell her about the dream now?” he asked Kingston.

  “Not yet. Let me explain what’s happening first, and then you can tell Georgia about your vision.”

  “Sorry I’m late. Did I miss anything?” Jacob rushed in and sat down next to me. His body was still warm from our wrestling match, and having him so close made my cheeks flush. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Carter glowering at us.

  Good. Let him stew in his jealousy. He doesn’t own me.

  “You’re right on time. I was just about to talk to all of you about the plan for Georgia’s trip. We have information that’s given me new hope.”

  Kingston sat down at the head of the table. There was a solemn note in his voice, but also a current of anticipation.

  “As you all know, Jose has been having dreams about the Tenebris. We’ve seen them become stronger over the past few months, gaining power and taking more risks. Since Georgia came into our lives, I’ve been worried about their efforts to recruit her to their side. They’ve tried abduction, and they failed. They’ve tried to separate us from her through direct attacks, but again, they haven’t been successful. That doesn’t mean they will stop trying—it just means that they are going to get more creative and bolder in their tactics.”

  “What do we need to do to s
top them?” I asked.

  Kingston and the rest of the guys looked at each other. Then, they all looked at me.

  “That’s where you come in, Georgia,” Kingston continued. “Jose came to us last night to tell us about a dream that he had, or more accurately, a vision of the future. Apparently you have gifts that you aren’t aware of yet. Tell her, Jose.”

  “I dreamed you had another power,” Jose said. “You can set raging bonfires with your mind.”

  I didn’t know what to say. Everyone was staring at me as if I were the keeper of some great miracle, when most of the time I felt like a kid who was still trying to figure out how to be a grownup. Half the time, I was struggling just to cope with the idea that I was “special,” and now this?

  “Uh . . . wow. That’s cool. I guess.”

  “It’s called pyrokinesis,” Kingston explained. “It’s the ability to set fires with your mental powers.”

  “We already know you can hurl deadly weapons without lifting a finger,” Carter said dryly. “As it turns out, that’s just the beginning.”

  “Too bad I don’t have the power to make certain people disappear,” I shot back at him.

  Jacob let out a big guffaw. Carter’s scowl deepened.

  Kingston reached for the big metal bowl and pushed it over to me. “I thought we’d try a little experiment, Georgia. I don’t expect you to be able to use your power to the fullest extent, but I have a feeling you can do more than you think you can.”

  “Go ahead, try it,” Jose urged. I had no desire to pull off any fire tricks at the moment, but I couldn’t bring myself to let Jose down.

  “Okay,” I sighed. “Here goes nothing.”

  Before I left the warehouse and made that failed attempt to return to my old life, Olympia had been working with me on focusing my powers. She had taught me how to visualize the things that I wanted to happen, how to channel my energies into making those visions a reality.