Daemon Grudge

by Stacey Brutger

  Atticus gave a snort of amusement, while Warrick only tightened his hold.

  Octavia ignored them. “Are you sure you want this? I bring nothing but troubles with me.”

  Her insides tumbled with uncertainty, her entire future resting in their hands.

  Nikos grabbed her free hand, then brought it to his lips, smirking at her over the top…before he licked the back of it. She scowled, trying to jerk her arm back, ready to kick him in the nuts, but he refused to release his hold. “What the fuck, you psycho.”

  “I licked it—now it’s mine.”

  She stopped trying to evade him and blinked up at him in bemusement. Even knowing she shouldn’t be, she was charmed. “Say what?”

  Keegan sighed then shook his head with an appalled, slightly put-upon expression. “What the idiot meant to say is—you were ours as soon as Eldon brought you to our house. Some of us just took longer to admit it than others.”

  Atticus crossed his arms, and shrugged. “I knew the moment you walked in the door. You’re mine—” his face scrunched up, then he huffed— “ours, since I have a feeling it will take all of us to keep you safe.”

  Octavia was flabbergasted…and felt foolish for not noticing their acceptance sooner. She frowned up at Warrick, then smacked him on the chest. “Why did you just stand there letting me go on and on?”

  “Because I like having you close.” He lifted their joined hands, playing with her fingers, a possessive look in his eyes. “I like the novelty of touching you. And…”

  Nikos snickered at the pause, Keegan cleared his throat, while Atticus harrumphed and Warrick glared at them all.

  “…and I was the last one to realize that we can’t live without you.”

  She tugged on his hand, drawing his attention back to her. “Really?”

  “It won’t be easy. I’m an asshole, and I’m going to piss you off and order you around all the time. Keegan is going to demand you take endless lessons about your daemon heritage, and talk strategy until you want to smack him. Atticus and Nikos are going to train you. The wolf isn’t going to let you out of his sight, while your psycho is going to drive you up the wall with pranks. Each of us is going to make you crazy.

  “But I can guarantee it will be worth it.” His face softened, and he ran a finger down her cheek. “If you’ll have us.”

  “Yes!” She couldn’t stop the smile that spread across her face. It sounded like heaven. “I’ve been searching for a family, a place to belong, and I finally found it. I’m not letting you guys go now. What do we need to do?”

  She wanted it done now, so nothing could take them away from her.

  The guys glanced at each other, pulling away, and she knew they were scheming, but she really didn’t care—as long as it got her what she wanted. She watched them, joy filling her heart until she thought she might burst.

  She was so distracted, she didn’t notice someone was sneaking up behind her until an arm locked around her throat. She was hauled back, her feet yanked off the ground. She grabbed the arm holding her, ready to fight, when a blade pricked her skin right under her ribs, just inches from her heart.

  Her blade.

  The metal hummed at the touch of her skin, almost eager for the taste of blood.

  It was hungry.

  Her magic whirled in agitation. The tiny wound hurt like he’d poured acid in it, and she could feel that more than her flesh had been cut—her soul had been as well.

  The blade was a god-killer.

  If he cut her deeply enough, she wouldn’t heal.

  “Fight me and I’ll gut you now.” Darren’s voice was harsh, and she saw everyone in the clearing was staring at them in horror.

  Warrick gave a little shake of his head, telling her not to do anything stupid. The guys spread out to circle them, and she gasped when the tip of the blade slid deeper, releasing a trickle of blood down her stomach.

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Darren sounded breathless, almost giddy as he panted in her ear. “I thought you’d ruined everything, destroyed years of careful planning, but then I realized I have everything I need right here.”

  He ran the blade down her stomach, slicing her shirt, the tip scratching deep enough to leave a welt of blood behind.

  The guys shouted in protest, Atticus growled, while Warrick leapt forward, arms stretched out in protest. Darren yanked her backwards, dragging her feet on the ground. While she fought to keep her balance, the blade dug even deeper.

  “You see, it wasn’t until one of your men mentioned knowing the location of the stone that it clicked.” Darren rested his sweaty face next to hers, his normally stoic expression almost manic. “You were Eldon’s little protégé. My guess is you were with him when he died, and the stone passed to you.”

  He gave a nasty laugh, only there was no humor in it. “To think, I almost gave away the key to getting everything that I want. With the ability to see the future, I can plan accordingly. I’ll know every trap, every strategy, every assassin—the stone is vital to winning the war and getting the daemons what they deserve.”

  Octavia tipped her face away from him, her skin crawling at the contact. “And kill thousands of people in the process, if not more. You’ll destroy the daemons, and the humans will hunt down the few remaining.”

  He gave a pleased chuckle, then kissed her cheek, the caress sending a chill slithering down her spine. “That’s the beauty. With the stone, none will be able to stand against us. The time for the new gods will rise.”

  Her heart sank, sorrow weighing down her limbs and a numbness invaded her soul.

  Because he was right.

  If he got access to the stone, nothing would stop him.

  She stilled, grief threatening to drown her when she realized she only had one option. She swept her gaze over the others, then her eyes came to rest on Warrick, and she gave him a sad smile.

  “Keep them safe for me.”

  “No!” Warrick charged forward, horror and pain twisting his face.

  They both knew he wouldn’t reach her in time.

  Without giving herself time to think, she stepped forward, whimpering when the blade slid deep into her stomach.

  When she died, the stone would find a new owner…or maybe the blade would destroy it once and for all.

  Nikos couldn’t move as he watched as the blade sank deep into Octavia’s gut. Pain twisted her features, and he’d swear his heart had been ripped out by someone ramming their hand into his chest.

  Deep ember cracks began to glow like lava under her skin, forking across her torso where the knife entered. Tiny flicks of ash and cinders floated up in the air.

  And the small spark of light he’d nurtured since Octavia came into his life was snuffed out, smothered by the weight of his grief while everything inside him went dead.

  Darren staggered back with wide eyes, leaving the blade in her flesh, horror and dismay on his face, and he howled to the sky with pure rage. “No!”

  The need to rip the fucker’s throat out and bathe in his blood roared through Nikos.

  Just as he took a step forward, a blinding light swelled out of Octavia, swarming up the blade, then blasted through the clearing like a bomb had detonated.

  He flew back through the air, his spine thumping into a tree so hard the tree splintered and his ribs cracked on impact. He whacked the ground when he dropped, then just stared up at the sky, not sure he had enough energy to even get up.

  She was gone, and his soul bled with agony.

  Then he heard her whimper.

  He shot up, rolling into a crouch, feeling a bit feral as his eyes swept the clearing, then locked on Octavia where she was stubbornly clinging to life despite the odds.

  Then his eyes widened when he saw a woman standing next to her, draped in ancient Grecian garb, her form practically glowing with power.

  Pythia.

  Heart in his throat, he leapt to his feet and raced toward Octavia, watching the other guys do the same. As he neared
, he saw Pythia smile down at Octavia.

  “You gave your life to free me from the stone, something no god or daemon would ever do.” She ran her fingers through Octavia’s hair, like a mother soothing a child. “You gave your life to save a people you don’t even know.”

  Nikos’s stomach cramped in terror, and he edged forward, dread riding him hard. The gods weren’t known for their forgiving nature, and Pythia was as close to a god as they had…and she held the threads of Octavia’s life in her hand.

  Then the woman turned toward Darren, and her face darkened, the beauty hardening into something so chilling Nikos’s insides curdled. “Unlike you. You, who would sacrifice anyone who got in your way to get what you want.”

  As she took a step forward, leaves and plants wilted under her feet until she was standing in front of Darren.

  “No! I was doing this for our people. We served our time. We’re dying, and I can save us with your help. We can make things right.” Fervor gave his eyes a feverish gleam.

  Nikos could only gape at the idiot—and people thought he was crazy.

  Pythia only smiled and shook her head. “Maybe, but you are not the one to lead them.”

  She lifted her hand and touched Darren’s face.

  Nikos watched in horrible fascination as a pale smoke began to rise from Darren’s body. The daemon’s back arched, and a scream of pain and terror split the air as Pythia slowly sucked the power out of him, leaving nothing but a pile of dust floating in the clearing.

  While her back was turned, Nikos hurried to Octavia’s side, the rest of the guys following his lead. Keegan carefully eased her onto her back, every emotion locked down. Atticus grabbed her bloodied hand, his face shattered. Warrick cradled her head in his lap, brushing her hair away from her face. Her eyes were closed, like she was already drifting away from them.

  Nikos dropped to her side, yanked out the blade, and placed his hands over the savage wound, but it only took a second to know there was nothing he could do.

  Death had a firm grip on her.

  Tears pooled in his eyes as her blood spilled between his fingers, his throat tightening at his helplessness when cinders began to float in the air around them. He glared up at Pythia and snarled. “Help her.”

  Pythia didn’t strike him down, instead looking deeply at each of them in turn. “There’s a choice to be made. As her mates, the decision will be yours. You may let her go now, so she may be free of pain and suffering. She will find peace.”

  Atticus was growling even before she finished speaking. Instead of being offended, she smiled down at the man who was more beast than human as he struggled to maintain his two-legged form.

  “Or, instead of going into the aether and passing my gift on to another, I can give it to her.” Her face was almost sad as she gazed down at Octavia. “Her life will always be full of strife and pain. If she lives, she will in essence be the new Pythia. People will hunt her for the rest of her life.”

  Nikos found himself pinned in place by blue eyes that glowed with power. “Are you strong enough to stand by her side and protect her? It would be your job as mates to keep her safe, even from herself.”

  “Anything.” He didn’t hesitate to nod, painful hope lodging in his chest. “I’ll do anything. Just save her.”

  Pythia’s gaze swept the rest of the guys, and—one by one—each of them gave her their own vow.

  “Very well.” She practically floated to Octavia’s side, then knelt. She leaned forward, brushing a finger lovingly along Octavia’s temple, her face shadowed in regret and hope. “Be strong, little one. You’re going to need it. I would never wish my gift on anyone. I have searched for centuries for my replacement, and I fear you are the only one who may be able to survive what’s coming.”

  Before anyone could react, she leaned forward and kissed Octavia’s forehead. A warm glow rose from her, nearly blinding him with its brilliance. Little specks of lights danced in the air before settling on top of Octavia. Very slowly, they were absorbed into her skin until she glittered.

  He watched with tears in his eyes as the brutal wound closed, leaving behind a ragged scar on her beautiful body. The lava under her skin cooled, revealing tiny lines etched along her stomach like charcoal marks, a harsh reminder at just how close she’d come to dying.

  Nikos reached out to touch her when a whisper reached his ears.

  “I’ve done what I can, the rest is up to you.” Then the firelights in the air faded into nothing, leaving the world feeling cold.

  With shaking hands, he leaned forward and placed them on Octavia’s chest.

  He sagged forward when he felt her heartbeat, strong and steady.

  She was still horribly wounded, but she would live. He glanced up at Warrick and gave him a fierce smile. “Get us back to the compound.”

  Then he ignored the world around him, grabbed his magic with both hands, and went about doing what he could to help her heal.

  Chapter Thirty

  Octavia inhaled deeply and stretched on top of the bed, her body giving a twinge of protest. She resisted opening her eyes, not ready to join the world. She wasn’t sure how, but she knew she was safe and protected, and she didn’t want to lose that feeling.

  Once she was awake, she’d have to face what happened, and she wasn’t sure she was ready for it. Her senses warned that she wasn’t alone, and she cracked open one eye to see the guys were standing around the room, all gaping at the bed like she’d just returned from Oz or some shit.

  Too bad she didn’t remember a yellow brick road or getting any wishes granted.

  Very reluctantly, she opened both her eyes and got her first good look at them.

  “Gods, you guys look like shit.” Her voice was raspy from disuse, and it hurt like hell to talk. She pushed herself upright and grimaced, leaning heavily against the headboard, feeling like one giant bruise. She tried to cover her wince, but the guys saw it anyway. In seconds, they were on their feet.

  Nikos hand came to rest on her forehead, checking her temperature or maybe scanning her body. Keegan dropped his book on her dresser, retrieving a glass of water for her.

  “You must be hungry,” Atticus murmured, then turned and hurried out of her room.

  Warrick didn’t react.

  He stood at the bottom of her bed, his legs spread, his arms crossed, his expression imposing. To buy herself time, she accepted the glass from Keegan and took a sip, the coolness soothing her dry throat, and she smiled up at him in thanks.

  She batted away Nikos’s hands, then crossed her arms to brace herself for the lecture she knew was coming.

  Warrick narrowed his eyes, as if he sensed her attitude and didn’t like it.

  Tough!

  “Do you know what happened?” Warrick spoke with a growl, his rage barely contained.

  She wrinkled her nose at him, then shrugged. “We won.”

  He inhaled sharply, his chest expanding impressively as he fought to keep himself from exploding.

  And failed.

  “No, you almost fucking died!” His roar echoed around the room. He planted his fists on the bed and leaned forward, getting in her face. “You’ve been lying in the bed for nearly three days, and we didn’t know if you were ever going to wake up.”

  She suddenly felt small as he unraveled, and her bluster failed.

  They were supposed to be her team, her new family.

  They were the missing pieces of her soul.

  They were what made her feel whole.

  When she thought she lost them, she’d been devastated.

  She had no idea that they felt the same way.

  His eyes were wild, power snapped in the air where it seeped from him as his control shredded. He was so furious, she could see the pulse in his neck throb. Knowing there was nothing she could say that would appease him, she sat up and cupped his face in her hands.

  He stilled like an animal ready to pounce.

  “Can you feel my touch?” She brushed her fingers along
his face, and his breath exploded out from where it had been lodged in his chest. The muscle in his jaw unknotted, and the tension slowly eased out of him inch by inch. She continued to brush her fingers against the stubble on his cheek, loving the prickly feeling.

  The scents of cherries and leather filled her senses, and she slid her fingers along his neck to sink into the hair at his nape. She’d had near misses in the past, injuries she was sure would heal, but this was the first time that she’d been afraid she would die.

  She had so much more to live for now.

  His nearness soothed the ragged edges of her soul.

  Atticus entered the room a moment later, carrying a tray laden with a least a dozen different kinds of food, and she reluctantly sat back, allowing him to set it in front of her. She curled her hands into fists, already missing his warmth and wished she had the time to explore him some more.

  Nikos leaned forward and snatched up a grape, tossing it into the air. Before he could catch it, Atticus caught the grape, put it back on her tray, then whacked him on the back of the head.

  Nikos rolled his eyes, casting her a plaintive look. “As you can see, he’s been cooking for you the whole time you’ve been resting, leaving the rest of us with nothing to eat.”

  Octavia snorted, picked up the grape, and shoved it in her mouth, nearly laughing when his eyes widened with outrage. She quickly grabbed a sandwich and began eating it as fast as she could, her stomach furious at being empty.

  Even before she finished swallowing, she shoved the tray at Nikos and swung her legs over the side of the bed.

  Her intuition was going wild.

  They weren’t going to be alone for long, and she wanted to get dressed when they came for her.

  The guys all protested the move. Atticus blocked her from standing. Nikos ignored the tray and grabbed for her arm. Keegan took off his glasses and set them on the table, as if preparing for battle, while Warrick had his knee half on the bed like he was ready to lunge for her.

  “Where the hell are you going?” The deadly question was just a whisper of air, so soft most would’ve mistaken it for curiosity.