“But they are working on trying to fix the problem,” Loc put in. Once again, he was sitting next to Cat on the sofa, although not too close. Even so, she was acutely aware of him, of the longish dark hair brushing against the collar of his black T-shirt, the way his hands rested lightly on the knees of the worn Levi’s he wore. He seemed so human, and yet every once in a while she could catch some movement or gesture, a certain strangeness, as if he was speaking or reacting that way because it was something he’d studied and not because he’d done the same thing all his life. “That’s something. Now all you have to do is wait, because eventually, they will reach out to you to have their clan’s books returned to them. There is something else, though.”
“What?” Cat asked. The information he’d given them about the de la Paz clan and their library hadn’t been bad news, not really, and yet something about the way his expression shifted told her that he had something far worse to relate.
“I returned to New Orleans to see what Nicholas Toulouse was up to — if anything. I saw him perform a blood ritual, something to restore his youth and vitality. He is obviously far older than he looks.”
Miranda let out a huff of a breath. “Great. Which means he could be a lot more powerful than any of us guessed.”
“Possibly,” Loc said. “Although having to rely on those sorts of compromising rituals also means he is vulnerable in a way we hadn’t expected. His strength is not entirely his own. If he brings an attack against the Castillo clan — and I am still not sure whether that is what he has planned — then we can do what we can to cut off his supply, so to speak.”
“Of blood, you mean,” Cat said, feeling a bit queasy. Oh, sure, she knew there were dark witches and warlocks who used blood in their rituals, thought nothing of dispatching a pig or a cat or a dog to further their black magic, but no one in her own clan had done that sort of thing for hundreds of years. And of course, there were other kinds of blood….
“Yes,” Loc replied. He looked calm enough, so clearly he hadn’t been grossed out by what he’d witnessed at Nicholas Toulouse’s house. Then again, demon lords probably weren’t known for their weak stomachs. “I don’t know what kind of blood it was, but I fear it was probably human. Animal blood would do very little to restore a human’s vitality.”
“Excuse me,” Miranda said, looking a little pale. She pushed herself up from the couch and fled down the hall to the guest bathroom, then shut the door. Loc stared after her, clearly perplexed by her behavior.
“First trimester,” Rafe explained. “She’s started to get a little pukey the past few days. All perfectly normal, of course, but I’m not surprised that talking about human blood put her over the edge. She can’t even stand the smell of meat right now.”
A little pause as Loc appeared to process this information, and then he nodded. “Of course. I’d forgotten that she was with child. I will refrain from being too graphic. But if Nicholas Toulouse is killing people to feed his rituals, then he will have a more difficult time if he tries to bring the fight here. Predators such as he always fare better when they can remain in an environment that’s familiar to them.”
Cat hadn’t really thought about that aspect of the situation, but after all, it wasn’t every day her clan had to deal with a blood-swilling dark warlock who might or might not be a serial killer, too. “I guess we have to hope that he decides the books aren’t worth leaving his cozy spot there in New Orleans. I’m kind of surprised the Dubois witches haven’t tried to clear him out.”
“I’m not sure they’re strong enough,” Rafe said. “Our mother didn’t talk about the other clans very often, but I remember her making a few catty remarks about the Dubois family once or twice. Then again, their situation is really different from ours. The Castillos have always had all of New Mexico to call their own. From what I’ve been able to tell, the witch clans are packed in a lot more tightly in Louisiana, and the Duboises never really spread out much farther than the French Quarter.”
“It’s not that different from the McAllisters, I guess,” Miranda put in, returning to the living room. She still looked a little pale, but she seemed composed enough as she sat down on the couch next to her husband. “We’ve spread out from Jerome, but in the beginning, that was it for us. The only reason we could move into Cottonwood and Prescott and even Payson is that neither of the other two Arizona witch clans had any kind of a presence in those places. But witches have been settled in Louisiana for a long time.”
“There are five families in the state, I think,” Rafe said. “So yeah, it’s probably a little cramped in there. And that’s probably why the Dubois clan is having a tough time of it. Most of the time, we don’t reach out to others for help, because no one wants to appear weak. Problem is, that’s just the kind of situation someone like this Nicholas Toulouse guy would exploit. It’s not that different from what happened to the Santiagos in California.”
“Only, as far as I can tell, Toulouse hadn’t done anything to attempt to take over the Dubois clan,” Loc said. “It seems that it amuses him more to remain where he is and be a thorn in the side of their prima. Also, he has her daughter.”
Miranda sat up a little straighter at that revelation. “He what?”
“The Dubois prima’s daughter is living with him — she is not the prima-in-waiting, though.” Loc shrugged. “It is an odd situation, because I was told she went to him voluntarily, but he still has her under the control of some sort of spell. However, I couldn’t see any sign that she was being mistreated.”
“You saw her?” Rafe demanded.
“Yes. She made an appearance the one and only time I spoke directly with Nicholas Toulouse. She looked well enough, although rather ‘out of it,’ to use your phrase. Anyway, I believe she makes a rather good hostage. No matter what he ends up doing, I doubt that we should expect any kind of assistance from the Dubois prima, since that would most likely cause Toulouse to retaliate against her daughter.”
Just great. Cat hadn’t even thought of that angle, but it made perfect sense. Not only did Toulouse get to sleep with someone far younger than himself — way, way younger, if Loc’s observation that the warlock must be very old was true — but he also had the perfect human shield in the prima’s daughter.
“So what are we supposed to do?” Cat asked, knowing she sounded far too plaintive. Still, this whole situation had made her feel far more defeated than she should.
“Right now?” Miranda responded. “Nothing. I mean, the books are safe, and so far we don’t have any reason to believe that Toulouse knows where they are, except somewhere in Santa Fe. We’ll let Rafe’s cousin know she needs to be on her guard, and to let us know right away if she encounters anything that feels or looks strange, but there isn’t much more we can do beyond that.”
“We can still use Loc as our spy,” Rafe said. For a second, his gaze rested on Cat and Loc where they sat on the couch next to each other, and it took a good deal of self-control to keep her from wriggling with guilt. All right, the only thing she and Loc had done was kiss each other once, but even so, she got the feeling that Rafe had picked up something of their vibe and was less than approving. “You can keep an eye on Toulouse for us, right?”
“That’s dangerous — ” Cat began, but Loc cut her off.
“Not really. Or rather, I am fairly confident that Nicholas Toulouse can’t detect my presence.”
“‘Fairly confident’?” she echoed. “That doesn’t sound very reassuring.”
His shoulders lifted. “I saw him react to something when he entered the kitchen where I was observing him. However, it might have been something else entirely. The only way to know for sure is to try again.”
“Well, that can wait, I think.” Miranda glanced over at Rafe, and he gave her the barest of nods. “For now, we’ll just have to be watchful.” She paused before adding, her tone a little too casual, “Are you going back to Pojoaque, or did you plan to hang out in Santa Fe for a little while?”
“I
think it’s probably better to head back to the house,” Cat replied, immediately on her guard. Had the question been an attempt at finding out whether she and Loc were going to share some kind of date night here in Santa Fe, since they were in town? Maybe. She hoped her response had been neutral enough that neither Miranda nor Rafe would be able to find much meat in it. “I still have a lot of work to do to get ready for the art reception, and Loc hasn’t given up on finding someone who can help him.”
“Someone who’s not a dark warlock,” he said, getting to his feet. “It is difficult, but it is a little better now that I know I have a safe place to come back to.”
Once again, Rafe frowned slightly, but all he said was, “Yes, it does feel safe there. Cat’s made a nice sanctuary out of that place.”
It did feel like a sanctuary. Whether or not her refuge in Pojoaque would actually keep her and Loc safe remained to be seen, though.
Cat appeared pensive as she went to the refrigerator and poured both of them tall glasses of water. After handing one to Loc, she said, “Rafe seemed suspicious.”
Yes, he had, although Loc knew that what looked like suspicion was often an attempt to seek the truth of a situation. He also understood that the prima’s husband tended to be protective of his youngest sister, and so was not pleased that she’d allowed a demon lord in as her house guest, even if nothing else had been going on between them.
But something was going on. Or rather, Loc wished for there to be something, although his last conversation with Cat had reached no real resolution. Perhaps she didn’t want there to be a resolution, or at least she wanted to avoid the issue when neither of them had any idea of what was going to happen next.
He drank some of the water she’d given him, glad of its coolness against his dry throat. Miranda and Rafe had not offered any refreshments, most likely an oversight. But still, it was good to have something to drink.
“He has nothing to be suspicious about,” Loc said mildly once he had swallowed his last mouthful of water.
“Doesn’t he?”
She was leaning against the warm-toned granite of the kitchen counter, lovely face troubled. It would have been good to be able to reach out and fold her into his arms, but he wasn’t sure how such an overture would be received.
“We shared an embrace,” Loc said, making sure the words were careful and precise. “We did not follow it with anything else. You made it quite clear that you did not want there to be anything else. Therefore, I don’t see how there is anything about our relationship that should upset your brother.”
“You don’t know my brother,” Cat replied. She still held her own glass of water, but she’d only taken a single sip out of it.
“Not very well, no.”
She smiled, but there was something both tired and strained about her expression. “Because he’s my brother, he wants the best for me.”
“I can see nothing wrong with that,” Loc returned. Indeed, it would be odd if Rafe didn’t want the best for his sister.
His comment earned him a shake of the head. “No, I suppose there isn’t. But I can tell you right now that Rafe’s concept of ‘best’ doesn’t include demon lords. Not that it matters,” she went on, speaking quickly and not meeting his gaze. “Because you know you’re not going to stay.”
“I didn’t say that definitively,” Loc replied. He was not offended by Cat’s comment. Rather, he was more amused than anything else that a mere mortal such as Rafe Castillo would not consider someone who had reigned over an entire plane of existence good enough for his little sister. “And I certainly will not abandon you and your clan while Nicholas Toulouse poses any kind of threat.”
“That’s something,” Cat said. “But it’s still no solution. Not in the long run.”
“What is it you want?” he asked gently. Not because he didn’t know the answer, but because he realized she needed to hear it for herself.
A long, long pause while she stared down into the glass of water she held, as though it was some sort of scrying mirror that could reveal her heart’s desire, rather than ordinary water from a pitcher in the refrigerator. “I thought this was what I wanted,” she said, her tone quiet, musing. With one hand, she gestured upward, as if indicating the house that surrounded them. “And I love it here, I really do. But I suppose I realized that it isn’t enough. I’m tired of watching everyone around me find their own happiness when it always seems just out of reach for me.”
Without speaking, Loc set his glass of water down on the countertop and went to her, then took her glass from her so he might hold her hands in his. He halfway expected her to pull them away, but she didn’t, only stood there and gazed up into his face, expression expectant.
“Have you ever wondered,” he said, “how it was, out of all the millions of souls in this world, yours was the one I reached out to?”
She shook her head. “I just figured it was because I have this talent of talking to ghosts, and so I wasn’t the sort of person who’d be startled by suddenly hearing a voice in my head.”
He smiled, and spoke in that same way to her now. No, Cat. It is because something in you resonated with something in me.
Her fingers tightened on his. “Then why…?” The words trailed off, and she pulled in a breath, as though somehow frustrated with herself, at her inability to say what she was feeling.
Why what?
“If it’s there, this connection or whatever you want to call it, then why would you want to keep on trying to find a way to leave?”
A very good question, one he’d begun to ask himself more and more. He should have been troubled by his growing indecision, and yet somehow, he was not. Speaking aloud, he replied, “Because exile from the place where I was lord and master is not a terribly appealing prospect.”
“Even though you wouldn’t have to spend that exile alone?”
She was so very beautiful, her face tilted up toward his, dark eyes wide and sad, her near-black hair falling in lustrous waves past her shoulders. Merely looking at her like this was enough to arouse the desire in him, this body he wore responding to her nearness, to the faintly floral scent that drifted from her warm-toned skin.
“I don’t — I don’t know,” Loc said. He had to force himself to think clearly, because his body threatened to overpower his mind with its sudden, shocking need. Not sure what he should do, he let go of her hands and took a few steps away so he wouldn’t have to breathe in her enticing scent or look at the delicate shadows in the hollow of her throat.
“How long do you plan to keep looking?” Now her voice was taut but neutral, and she crossed her arms as she stood there with the granite counter at her back. “A year? Five years? Ten? Does time even have any real meaning for you?”
He shook his head. “Not in the way that it does for you. I can sense it passing, but it does not touch me.”
“So you’ll be like this always, no matter what?” Her gaze seemed to take him in, this mortal form he’d assumed in order to blend in with the rest of humankind.
“No,” he replied, and he saw surprise register in her eyes. “This body is as human as yours, and it will age, just as yours does. It is only that, once it has become no longer useful, I can take on another.”
“And another, and another, for as long as you need to.”
“Yes.” Loc studied her carefully, but now her expression had also grown neutral, as though she wrestled with her thoughts but wanted to make sure she didn’t betray anything he might use against her.
Her tone hardened. “Is it so wonderful, this place you come from?”
Now he could only smile. “No. It is a universe of innumerable barren worlds, of sudden storms, of cold winds and desert sands and oceans of ice. A human being would not last very long on any of those worlds, but I and those I rule are not like humans. We do not need food to eat, nor water to drink. We can consume these things, and enjoy them, but they are not required for our sustenance. But that place is mine, and it has been that way since b
efore time began.” Not for the first time, he wondered whether his demon legions had run amok in his absence, or whether they waited patiently for their lord and master’s return. Since they did not possess much minds of their own, he guessed it was probably the latter.
Cat’s lips twitched, but he didn’t see much humor in her expression. “Better to reign in hell, huh?”
“I am not sure I understand.”
“It’s from a poem by John Milton…Paradise Lost. It’s something Satan says — ‘better to reign in hell than serve in heaven.’” She chuckled, although the sound was still rather grim. “AP English rears its ugly head.”
Loc didn’t quite recognize the reference to AP English, but he thought he could understand what she had intended by quoting that verse to him. Now he was the one who crossed his arms. Frowning, he asked, “Are you comparing me to Lucifer? I am not the Devil.”
“No, but you’re a demon lord,” Cat replied. “Some might say that was nearly the same thing.”
“Your people use the word ‘demon’ to describe us, but we are not demons, not really. We are merely beings who are different from you.”
She didn’t look entirely convinced. “But you, Loc, you would rather be in that awful place you just described to me, just because you get to rule over everything there. What exactly are you ruling, if there are no cities, no kingdoms, no crops to raise, no art to be made, no…nothing?”
Again, she had asked a very good question. For the longest time, it had been enough to gaze upon those worlds and know that they and the entities which occupied them were all under his sway, that he had come into being precisely to rule those worlds. But Cat was right — there was existence, but no beauty, no wonder. Indeed, he had not known precisely what those things even were until he came here and was able to see the glory of a sunrise, the great wheeling expanse of the night sky with its innumerable stars.
Or a child’s laughter, or the rich curve of a woman’s lips as she smiled.
Still, what she asked of him was no small thing. The price to be paid for Earth’s beauties was very high. Or rather, the price he would pay for sharing those beauties with Catalina Castillo would be very high. Eternity would no longer be his to play with — he would have to age, and die, and leave this all behind, in a span of time that was little more than a single eye blink. The thought crossed his mind that he could stay here and live a life with her, and then take another body and continue his search for someone to send him home. But doing so would be a betrayal of this feeling that had begun to blossom in him, and he knew he would never do such a thing, no matter the cost.
Demon Born Page 16
