Cimmerian Shade: A Limited Edition Paranormal Romance & Urban Fantasy Collection

by Kiki Howell

  “So?” Nicholas said. He’d never been all that patient. “What happened?”

  Jacob looked up at them, and again Nicholas was struck by how much older his eyes looked. Without thinking, without even looking, he reached out to Andrew, resting a hand on his leg. Andrew usually wasn’t too keen on public displays of affection, even when the only audience was their son. Today, he took Nicholas’ hand and clung to it, offering comfort and claiming some in return.

  “Like I said,” Jacob started, his voice very quiet, “we went to the demons’ world. Something happened when Kirsten did her spell. It sort of... opened a door. The same kind of door demons go through, I guess. Like, a portal between their world and ours. We were sucked in. Next thing we know, we’re in this barren wasteland, and the sun is all... wrong, and Kirsten is gasping for air.”

  His mouth twisted in a grimace and his eyes returned to the drink he still hadn’t touched. He’d been wary of alcohol since an unfortunate event when he’d been seventeen. Very slowly, he raised the glass to his lips and took a sip.

  “Is she okay?” Andrew asked. “Did she have some kind of seizure or something?”

  Jacob shook his head.

  “No, nothing like that. It was the air. It’s... different. Less oxygen, maybe. Or an extra something that makes it harder to breathe. Well, harder for humans.” Another grimace, and his gaze came back up, flitting between Andrew and Nicholas. “I had no problem breathing whatever it was. But then that shouldn’t be much of a surprise, huh?”

  Andrew’s hand tightened even more over Nicholas’. Nicholas knew what they were both thinking: Jacob’s mother had done magic to get pregnant from Andrew, and they both believed she’d somehow triggered the demon invasion at the same time. He also knew neither of them had ever had proof that the timing was anything more than a coincidence.

  “No,” he said coolly. “It’s not of a surprise because your body works better than that of humans. We all know that. So don’t try to make it sound like it means something else.”

  Jacob sighed.

  “But it does mean something else,” he said very low. “I know it for certain now. It’s not just about how I could breathe fine there. It’s about the demons. How they always sniff me, like they recognize me or something. Like they’ve tried to talk to me before. And on the other side, they did more than talk. They were downright friendly to me. Not so much toward Kirsten. They could tell there was something different about me. How much more proof do you need?”

  Nicholas felt as though the ground had opened under him and he was in free fall, and never mind that he was sitting on a sofa. Words were beyond him, and all he could do was stare. Next to him, Andrew was shaking. It probably wasn’t enough for Jacob to notice, but Nicholas, sitting right alongside him, couldn’t fail to feel it.

  “Wait,” Andrew said hoarsely. “Wait a second. Backtrack a little. When have demons tried to talk to you?”

  Jacob’s guilty expression, for a second, was reminiscent of those few times when he’d been caught doing something he knew would disappoint them. It had been a while since he’d looked like that, and it was almost like being back in front of a child rather than a grown man.

  “Remember prom night?” he said, and again he wasn’t looking straight at them. “I might not have told you everything about that fight.”

  Jacob’s second kill, but the first one when he’d been alone against an armed demon. The first fight he’d found on his own.

  “So... the demon talked to you that night?” Nicholas said, and a little of his disappointment that Jacob had kept this from them pierced through.

  “I wasn’t sure,” Jacob said. “It grunted at me. And... sniffed me. I didn’t know if it meant anything, so I didn’t mention it. But after that... whenever I fought with one of you, or anyone else, the demons would never do that. But when I was alone, or when you guys were out of sight, they always grunted. Talked at me, I should say. Before they attacked, they’d always talk and sniff me, like they could... like they recognized me. I never tried to speak to them. But in that other place, they were kids we met at first. And they talked to me, too. So this time, I talked back.”

  Nicholas’ mind was all over the place, and he couldn’t hold on to a thought long enough to make sense of it. For more than twenty years, demons had popped up in more and more places all over the world, and everywhere it was always the same: they carried weapons, and using them was their only form of communication. They fought until they were killed, and on the rare occasion when a demon had been captured, it never responded to any attempt at communication, and always grew increasingly violent until killing it was the only option left.

  And now... this. Their son. Their impossible, miraculous son. The boy who should never have even existed. Jacob was recognized as different by the demons. Recognized as one of their own, maybe? He looked miserable, and Nicholas wasn’t the only one who’d noticed.

  “Son,” Andrew said, choking a little on the word. “It doesn’t mean anything. They sense you’re different, that’s all, but...”

  Jacob shook his head, and Andrew’s voice trailed off.

  “I know I’m different,” Jacob said. “That’s not... I got used to that idea long ago.”

  “So why do you look like your best friend just died?” Nicholas asked.

  A humorless chuckle answered him.

  “Funny you should say that,” Jacob said in a murmur. “Because I did make friends on the other side. And in the end, I killed them. They were just kids, Dad. Demons yes, but still kids. And I killed them.”

  .....

  Chapter Eighteen

  FOCUSING SHOULDN’T have been this difficult.

  Jacob had trained with his fathers since he’d been a child, and it had been about more than how to wield a sword or step without making a sound. They’d taught him to regulate his body, too, starting with his breathing—and hadn’t it been fun to learn how to breathe from two people who hadn’t drawn a breath in decades! They’d taught him to empty his mind, and focus on whatever battle was at hand.

  Right now, the demons in front of Jacob were without a doubt the most pressing matter, even if they weren’t carrying weapons. But with Kirsten’s heart still beating so wildly, with the scent of her fear still so strong, all Jacob could think of was to take her in his arms and hold her, reassure her until she felt better. He just couldn’t do that right now. What he had to do was focus, and think fast.

  With slow, non-threatening movements, he stood so he wouldn’t be sitting at the demons’ feet anymore. The largest one, the one Gertruh and Taleeh had brought along with them, still towered more than three feet above Jacob, but this was somewhat better. The demon was repeating the same five or six words for the fourth time. His voice was growing a little louder each time. The trouble was, Jacob had no idea what he could possibly be saying. Gertruh and Taleeh had taught him a few words, but he was far from fluent in the demon language.

  Holding his palms out to the demons again—and hoping that, in their culture, this gesture wasn’t some kind of mortal insult—Jacob said very slowly, “I have no idea what you are saying. I mean you no harm. We’re just trying to get home and as soon as we figure out the magic—”

  The tallest demon knew a few words of English. After all, one of the first things he’d done was call Jacob a fighter. Apparently, he also knew the word ‘magic’ because no sooner had it passed Jacob’s lips that the demon hissed, taking a step back, herding the children a little further away. He repeated the word, adding a dozen more than didn’t sound all that friendly. It was the demon’s hand rising to gesture at Kirsten, however, that alarmed Jacob the most.

  He remembered how the two demon children had been scared when Kirsten had tried her spell and produced a beam of light. No, they’d been more than scared: they’d been terrified. Was that what all this was about? That botched spell and a fear of magic? Why was it that the demon didn’t seem to mind all that much that Jacob was a fighter, but magic was an issue?r />
  “Do you have the metal shaker?” Jacob asked, glancing ever so briefly to Kirsten.

  She was pale as a sheet. She didn’t ask what he wanted with it, but fumbled in the bag at her side and held out the shaker to him with a trembling hand. The children shrieked when they saw the shaker. Jacob tried to reassure them and the growling demon by holding it out with two fingers, showing them it was empty and harmless.

  “See?” he said in a gentle voice. “It’s just a container. No mag— Nothing to fear.”

  The demon tentatively reached out to the shaker, first touching it with a finger, then when nothing happened taking it from Jacob. He brought it closer to his face, inspecting it closely, even sniffing at it in a way that made his snout-like nose twitch. Apparently satisfied that the object wouldn’t hurt him, he turned to the children and grunted a few words at them as he showed them the shaker—and crushed it in one hand as though it had been nothing more than tinfoil.

  A tiny whimper rose behind Jacob, and without thinking he held his hand out to Kirsten. She clung to it with both hands.

  “It’s gonna be okay,” Jacob whispered, his gaze flicking from the demon to his sword, much too far for comfort. “Just keep calm, all right? And please don’t do any M-A-G-I-C now.”

  He didn’t want to know how the demons would react to another mention of magic, or worse, to another spell, even if it was nothing more than a flash of light. And he definitely didn’t want to imagine what might have happened if he’d still been unconscious and Kirsten had needed to confront the demons on her own.

  After a few more seconds, the large demon faced Jacob again. He dropped the crushed shaker to the ground and spoke, his longest speech yet. Jacob only recognized one word: magic. If he’d had to guess at the general meaning, he’d have bet they’d just been given a warning. Or rather, Kirsten had, judging by the menacing look the demon gave her before turning on his heel and leaving with the children.

  Jacob didn’t like any of it. Not one bit. He couldn’t let anything happen to Kirsten, and it had nothing to do with the fact that, without her, he’d undoubtedly spend the rest of his life in this world. If she died on his watch, his life, here or on Earth, wouldn’t have much meaning.

  “Pack your things,” he said as soon as the demons were little more than shadows on the horizon. “We’re moving.”

  AS SHE FOLLOWED JACOB over rocky terrain and up a small hill a short distance away from their camp by the lake, a litany of reproaches ran through Kirsten’s mind; reproaches directed, each and every one of them, at herself.

  She was ashamed of the way she’d acted when the demons had showed up, ashamed that she’d let shock and fear rule her. This scared little girl wasn’t who she was. She was better than this. She’d trained with the best mages in the United States, and they’d taught her to do magic under any circumstances. A mage had to be in control of her emotions. Strong emotions interfered with delicate spells. Keeping a cool head was the only way she could achieve consistent results with her spells. For her to let her fear overwhelm her went against everything she tried to be. She’d become a mage to fight demons; how could she do that when she was hiding behind Jacob?

  Her reproaches didn’t stop there, however. She was also mad for allowing herself to see Jacob as she once had—as something more than a friend. This wasn’t why she’d come back. She couldn’t forget why she’d left in the first place. It had been the right decision then, and it still was now. It had to be, or else all of it, all of those lonely years would be for nothing. She’d long ago broken her promise to herself that she wouldn’t regret her decision, but she couldn’t take it all back now. She simply couldn’t.

  “All right, I think we’ll be safe here.”

  Jacob’s words pulled Kirsten out of her internal ramblings. She took a good look at where they were. The rocky hill they’d been climbing formed a small plateau, with a cave-like formation in the back.

  “Safe?” she repeated, nonplussed. “We’ll have to climb back down every time we want water, or wood for the fire, or to try to find food. It won’t be all that safe if one of us breaks a leg.”

  The words came out more brusquely than she’d meant them, and Jacob gave her a surprised look.

  “But at least we’ll see the demons come a long time before they get to us,” he said. “We’ll have time to get ready for them. And with that narrow path, they won’t be able to attack more than one at a time.”

  She didn’t like the way he spoke of this attack as though it were inevitable. It brought back that uncontrollable feeling of dread she’d experienced when she’d heard English words pass the demon’s lips. She didn’t want to be afraid. And she didn’t want to think about being attacked. Words tumbled out of her mouth almost faster than she could think them.

  “How do you know they’ll come for us?” she asked. “They left, didn’t they? You talked them down. And how do you even do that anyway? How can you talk to them and get them to talk back? They never talk to anyone on Earth. Why you? Is it because of what you are? But why would they care? They don’t talk to vampires either. What’s so different about you?”

  She knew, as soon as she said it, that it was a mistake. Ever since Jacob had told her about his parentage, he’d always been reluctant to address the topic again, and she hadn’t prodded him any further. His reaction now, his back turning rigid even as his face drained of all emotions, told her he still didn’t like talking about it. That wasn’t all, though. She knew him, knew all the little quirks that made him who he was. And the way he looked away and refused to meet her gaze had always meant one thing: he was hiding something from her.

  “I’m starving,” he said abruptly. “I’ll go gather some wood, and see if I can find something to eat. Why don’t you try to work on that spell?”

  He left without giving her time to say another word, and maybe that was for the best. She wasn’t sure if she’d have accused him of hiding things from her or admitted that she had no idea how to get them home, but neither thing would have helped anything.

  IF THERE WAS ONE THING Andrew had never been able to bear, it was his son’s pain, and it didn’t matter which of his body or mind ached. When Jacob had been a toddler, when bumps and bruises had been par for the course, Andrew had hated each and every one of them, even if he knew they healed in a matter of hours. More than once he had wished that wrapping his son in bubble wrap was a viable option—much to Nicholas’ amusement.

  Right now, Jacob’s pain was evident in every word that passed his lips. It darkened his gaze, even made his features look older, grimmer. And Andrew ached in return at not knowing how he could help.

  “Do you want to tell us about it?” he asked as gently as he knew how.

  Jacob shrugged, the nonchalant gesture at odds with the tension in his voice.

  “There isn’t much to tell. They were friendly at first. But they didn’t like magic. And then they attacked. I didn’t have much of a choice.”

  There was more to it, Andrew was sure of it, and a quick look at Nicholas proved that he, too, thought the story was more complicated than that. Should Andrew push for more details? Sooner or later, Jacob would need to get it all off his chest for the pain to start to heal. Maybe, however, it didn’t have to be right now. Jacob looked exhausted, and he was peering into his empty glass as though wishing for another drink. More alcohol would do him little good, but sleep on the other hand might help.

  “You should get some rest,” Andrew said, forcing what he hoped was a comforting smile to his lips. “You look like you haven’t slept in days.”

  A twisted grin flickered on Jacob’s face. “You’re not wrong about that,” he said, and grunted quietly as he pushed himself to his feet. “Good night.”

  He set his empty glass on the coffee table and briefly rested his hand on Andrew’s shoulder as he walked past the sofa. Andrew turned to watch him go up the steps. He couldn’t remember ever seeing his son look so... defeated. The closest he’d come had been when things f
ell apart with Kirsten, but even then it hadn’t been that bad... had it?

  Nicholas stood, tugging Andrew’s glass out of his hands and going over to the liquor cabinet.

  “How much should we push?” he asked as he picked up the bottle of scotch and twisted the cap off. He poured a couple of inches in one of the glasses.

  Andrew stepped behind him, stopping his hand before he could refill the second glass.

  “Not sure,” he said gruffly. “He needs to get it off his chest. All of it. What he told us tonight... that’s not enough.”

  “Agreed,” Nicholas said.

  He emptied his glass in one long gulp. Andrew watched his Adam’s apple bob up and down. His fangs ached to plunge into that long, pale neck, its perfect skin only marred by the scars Andrew had left there the night he’d sired Nicholas. He knew what that sudden need for blood was about: not hunger, but family. He’d been scared tonight; scared of losing their son. Vampires found comfort in blood, the more familiar the better. And it wasn’t really alcohol Nicholas was craving, even if he was picking up the bottle again.

  Closing his hand over Nicholas’, Andrew made him release the bottle. Nicholas turned a glare to him, and muttered some protest Andrew didn’t listen to. More than a century old, and sometimes Nicholas still acted like an impulsive teen.

  “I know you were just as scared as I was so shut the hell up already,” Andrew said, the words quiet and lacking the fire that would start an argument. Still holding Nicholas’ hand, he curled the fingers of his free hand at the back of his lover’s neck and drew him forward. His tilted head, baring his neck, was an invitation; Nicholas glanced at it, met Andrew’s eyes in what looked like a ‘thank you,’ and leaned forward to bite. Closing his eyes, Andrew held him close. His family was home, and safe. Everything would be fine.

  Wouldn’t it?

  Chapter Nineteen