Demon's Vengeance

by Jocelynn Drake

  “Shit!” I slapped the heel of my hand against my forehead. “I am an idiot. I’m sorry. Yesterday was so insane. I completely forgot.”

  “I noticed,” she murmured as she returned to the main tattooing room and sat on her little stool. “Where were you?” she repeated, giving me a very pointed stare. “I checked the basement.”

  My heart leapt into my throat and I couldn’t breathe. “I said never to go into the basement without me!”

  “I didn’t go down. I opened the door and saw that the light was out. I called down there. I figured unless you were lying dead down there, you weren’t in the basement. Where were you?” Her voice was growing sharper with each word.

  I forced a casual shrug. “Nowhere important. I was doing a little research on the many problems that are in my lap at the moment.”

  “Am I one of those problems?”

  My eyes narrowed on Trixie and I felt my teeth clenching. My dear girlfriend wasn’t usually so combative, but there was no question that the woman was looking for a fight. Something had upset her and now I wondered if it was something I had specifically done or if I was just getting the brunt of her anger because I was convenient. Or maybe it was hormones? Pregnant women were emotional. Did that apply to elves as well?

  “Trixie, I don’t see our situation as a problem,” I said calmly, hoping to diffuse her anger before we were embroiled in a fight.

  The lovely elf just shook her head and sighed. “You went back to the Towers, didn’t you?”

  Confusion furrowed my brow and I forced myself to sit down in the chair across from her. “You know I did. I told you about that already.”

  “No, I mean that’s where you were just a minute ago. You went to one of those damn Towers to do your research.”

  Blood froze in my veins at her words. How could she possibly know about that? I hadn’t told her about going back to Simon’s rooms or the fact that I had done any research at the Towers in relation to any of my current problems. “How did you know?”

  When Trixie lifted her green eyes to me, there was a world of disappointment resting in those sad emerald orbs. “Gideon told me.”

  “What? When did you see him?” I demanded, jumping to my feet.

  “He was here a little while ago. He’s worried about you.”

  “Bullshit,” I muttered, shoving one hand through my hair so that it was now standing on end. I started to pace, but there wasn’t a lot of room for moving around because of the various chairs and little tables filled with tattooing supplies.

  “He is and so am I. What are you doing there?

  “Research.”

  “The only kind of research you could be doing at the Towers is magic. What are you doing with magic, Gage? You’re not supposed to be using it.”

  “Things have changed. I told you that. The Towers have backed off from that edict,” I said with an absent wave of my hand.

  “Not so much that using magic just willy-­nilly is safe,” she snapped. “You created those flowers with magic and sent them to my apartment with magic.”

  “You could tell?”

  “I’m a Summer Court elf, Gage! I could smell it. Those flowers aren’t real.”

  “Of course they’re real.”

  “No, they’re not. They were created by magic, not nature. I can smell and feel the difference. Those flowers have no soul. They never lived. They were never connected to the earth and they never spent a single day in the sun.”

  “I’m sorry. I wanted to give you something nice. Prove that magic could be used for something positive and pretty,” I shouted. My volume was rising with hers and it was becoming harder to get a hold on my emotions so that I could keep this conversation from exploding.

  “I appreciate the sentiment, but hate the fact that you’re using magic more.” Brushing some hair from her face, Trixie pushed to her feet so that she could more easily look me in the eye. “When you were hiding from the Towers and the world, you were careful about your magic use. You made sure that no one saw you, no one knew. You found other ways to get the things you needed. Now, it seems like magic is your first choice for everything.”

  “Only because it’s the more efficient way of getting things done.” I paused and took a deep breath, reminding myself that she was just worried about me. I should feel pleased by her concern. “Look, I’m using magic because it’s the only way to accomplish what I need. The Towers aren’t hunting me any longer, so there’s no danger.”

  “But don’t you see? Using magic is a danger in itself. You’re becoming dependent upon it. Nothing good ever came of using magic that frequently. It warps things. Twists it.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “The Towers,” she said quickly before I could continue.

  “I’m not the Towers! I’m not one of them! I’m not a killer!” But as the word left my throat, I felt myself pale and my heart stutter to a halt in my chest. I wasn’t a killer, right? That was the line I had always drawn in the sand that separated me from the assholes in the Ivory Towers. Yet, I had let Zyrus kill that warlock. I had let goblins die in that fire when I could have stopped it. I had clung to that rationale for years; used it as a reason for leaving the Towers. But it wasn’t true. Not anymore.

  “I know you’re not a killer, Gage,” Trixie said gently, pulling my horrified gaze back to her face. “But I’m afraid of things going too far and you not being able to stop yourself. You’re using things that are bad.”

  “What are you talking about?” I whispered.

  “There’s something . . . some magic that you’re using now that is . . .” she paused, wrinkling her nose as she tried to find the right word. “It’s like . . . it’s tainting you. You smell different and you feel different when I’m near you. It’s not good and you need to stop whatever it is. It’s gotten worse from last night to this afternoon.”

  Zyrus. She could feel my association with the demon, though she didn’t know exactly what it was.

  “I’ve got everything under control. Nothing has changed,” I said firmly, though I don’t know if I was trying to reassure her or me.

  “No, you don’t. You’re using magic—­”

  “Of course I’m using magic. I’m a warlock. You knew that before we started dating. You knew who I was before our first kiss. Do you regret it now?”

  “I knew what you were before we started dating,” she corrected, evading my question. She stood, her hands balled into fists at her sides as she stared at me. “But I don’t know who you are anymore.”

  “I’m Gage Powell, father of the baby you carry and the man who has been tasked with making you and this city safe so that you won’t run! I’m doing this all for you!”

  The air crackled with magical energy that I was barely holding in check. Whenever my emotions slipped past my control, magic followed eagerly behind it so that I ended up destroying light bulbs and glass containers without even trying. A part of me wanted to hear something explode or shatter. I wanted to see something eaten away by snapping flames. But the tears Trixie was struggling to hold back were enough to keep me from letting loose completely.

  “I never asked you to change,” Trixie said, her voice wavering with each word as it pushed aside the thickening silence. “I love you as you are and would never change you.”

  Her words were a balm on an old, ragged wound that refused to close. The electric charge of energy drifted away and I took a deep breath, reining in my temper. Something in me still longed to cut the magic loose, but I could feel the urge coming from outside of me more than in my own soul. Zyrus was restless in the basement as it undoubtedly sensed the anger and frustration growing within me. But I wasn’t going to give in to the demon. I was in control, not the demon. It called me master and I would be the master in this situation.

  “I’m not changing,” I said as calmly as I could manage. “I’m usin
g more magic because I am constantly being thrown into situations that demand I use it. The ­people I am up against are using magic and I have to use it to stay alive.”

  “The flowers?”

  I clenched my teeth against the spike in my temper and waited a beat before speaking. “That was a mistake. I see that now. I’m sorry.” I wasn’t sure I actually agreed with her on that point. But I could see that the flowers had unnerved her and I didn’t want to upset her further. Unfortunately, the look in her eyes made me think that I wasn’t entirely convincing.

  “The magic has to stop.”

  “You tasked me with ensuring your safety so that you will stay. Magic is the only way I can do that.”

  “Magic only makes things worse.”

  She was being stubborn and ridiculous. Yes, I understood that the Ivory Towers had hunted down and slaughtered most of her ­people. I understood that the Towers still had a deep distrust and hatred for all elves. But that did not mean that all magic was bad. Magic could be used for good and that was what I was doing now. I had protected her and Bronx and countless other lives in Low Town with my magic over the years. Yes, I was using it more frequently now but I wasn’t afraid of the Towers removing my head because of a little cloaking spell or a memory charm.

  I opened my mouth, not really sure what I was going to say, but I knew my tone was creeping back toward shouting. The words never had a chance to leave my tongue. A sickening wave surged through the parlor, moving from north to south, leaving me feeling like I’d been hit by a truck.

  Gasping, I collapsed to the floor on my hands and knees, my heart struggling within my chest to start beating again. Dragging in a breath, I felt the air burn down my throat, like acid on my lungs. I choked, coughing and unwilling to take in a second breath, but I couldn’t fight it more than a few seconds. The next was easier, though still painful.

  Across the room, I could hear Trixie coughing and choking as well. I slowly turned my head to look at her and winced. It was like my brain had been reduced to sludge and was now free to slide around in my skull. Trixie stayed on her feet, but was leaning heavily on the counter behind her. Her face was pale and sweat was streaking down from her temple.

  “Are you okay?” My voice was like brittle autumn leaves, cracking and breaking at the slightest touch.

  She nodded, slowly easing back onto her stool. “You?”

  “Getting there.” I still didn’t feel up for standing, but I needed to get up and move.

  “What was that?”

  Fear rippled through me. There was no mistaking it. “Death Magic.”

  “What? What’s that?” she asked and I was surprised. The elves were a long-­lived race. I was sure that she would have heard of it. Of course, the Summer Court was the least likely to use something like that since they so highly valued life. Maybe she didn’t know about it because it was something that had never touched their lives.

  “A dark kind of magic.” Reaching up, I grabbed the edge of the counter and pulled myself back to my feet. I stood still, swaying a bit as the last of the dizziness and nausea started to fade. “I’ve been tracking this killer for the Towers the past ­couple of weeks with Gideon. It’s why I’ve been away so much. We’re trying to catch this bastard before he destroys more ­people.”

  “Is this the same person who killed Kyle?”

  I shook my head, a part of me wishing they were the same person just so I didn’t have to find a way to catch two lunatics. “No.”

  “You need to go?” Trixie said it as a question, but it didn’t feel that way. We needed to talk more. To work out this issue she was having with my use of magic, but it had become obvious that we were just going around in circles. Maybe it would be best if we just walked away right now so that we could both cool off and think clearly. Truth be told, I was beginning to wonder if I could think clearly being so close to one of Zyrus’s doorways. I hadn’t thought the demon could influence me, but the creature’s emotions were starting to tangle with mine and that couldn’t be a good thing.

  “I need to catch this asshole before he hurts more ­people,” I said, careful not to add that this killer was now in Low Town and things were on the cusp of getting nasty if he found the other killer stalking innocent women.

  “It’s okay. Go. I’ll keep an eye on things here.”

  I hesitated, staring down at the wide-­eyed elf who was still too pale. For a moment, I thought about loosening the bonds on Zyrus so that it could protect the first floor of the tattoo parlor and watch over Trixie, but it was far too dangerous. I couldn’t trust the demon to properly guard her and I doubted the elf would welcome the protection of a demon.

  Trixie’s safety had become a tenuous thing. A demon was an easy answer as nothing could stop the creature but me. Yet, there was a tiny voice in the back of my head that was slowly getting louder. It was saying that Trixie and the baby would be safest with her own ­people. But I shoved that voice back down into the darkness.

  Trixie couldn’t leave me. There would be nothing left of me without her.

  Chapter 5

  The street was silent as the sun sank toward the horizon, casting long shadows across the snow-­crusted lawns. A crisp, bitter wind swept through the neighborhood, rattling the bare tree branches and reminding me that I was an idiot for not pausing long enough to grab my coat, though I was beginning to think that I had left it in the Towers rather than the parlor. Damn, my mind was anywhere but where I needed it to be.

  Prior to leaving Asylum, I slapped on a cloaking spell to hide my sudden appearance from the normal residents of Low Town, but it wouldn’t have hidden me from the person working the Death Magic. I didn’t have anything in my bag of tricks that would help me on that front. Gideon and I had been two steps behind this asshole for too long. Now that he was in Low Town we had to act fast, which meant there wasn’t time for fancy Towers suits or better cloaking spells. I was just grateful that I had started carrying my wand with me at all times.

  My heart stopped upon arrival. The neighborhood reminded me too much of where my parents lived. I knew the tracking spell had taken me to the north side of Low Town, but I couldn’t have told you my exact location. Twisting around, I took in the street of two-­story brick homes and evergreen shrubs, willing my heart to slow down. It wasn’t my parents’ street. The killer wasn’t close to my family. Relief made me light-­headed while my hands shook from something other than the cold. It was enough that I was constantly worried about Trixie. I didn’t need something new to throw on the fire.

  Farther down the street, a car rumbled to life, the sound echoing off the buildings before it pulled sharply from the curb and headed away from me. I reached out, sensing the air, but the magical energy didn’t follow the car, so I didn’t think it was possible that the killer was escaping that way. The tang of death was heavy. I was hoping that I had acted quickly enough and he was still here.

  Crossing to the sidewalk, I crunched through the frozen snow. The cold bit at my fingers and I fought the urge to shove them into my pockets. I needed my hands free if I suddenly found myself faced with the killer. Without Gideon at my back, I felt like I was at a distinct disadvantage against this insane fucker.

  The thickest concentration of the energy was only a few houses down from where I’d arrived. It wasn’t as bad as when Trixie and I were initially hit at Asylum, but it was heavier than either of the times Gideon and I had shown up at the other two locations. My stomach lurched and churned, trying to force out its contents, while my heart hammered in my chest. An aching throb had started in my temples, threatening to split my skull. Whatever this magic was, it didn’t agree with my own magical inclinations and body chemistry.

  A ripple of energy slipped down the street from behind me and I jerked around, my feet nearly slipping out from beneath me on a patch of ice. Gideon stood in the middle of the street, his cloak waving around him like a pair of ebony
wings. The warlock looked pale in the fading light, probably feeling just as shitty as I did. Prior to the great revelation of this past summer, I had always thought that the warlock spent most of his time in his assigned Tower, but I was coming to the understanding that he actually spent the majority of his time here in Low Town to keep a close eye on me as well as to be close to his family.

  Gideon took an unsteady step forward, his wand clenched in his left hand while his other hand was open and held out before him as if feeling the waves of energy shifting through the air. It actually took him a few seconds to notice me. At first, I would have been little more than a waver in the air before he pushed the cloaking spell aside to reveal a ghost-­like image of myself.

  Dropping his hands to his sides, he swiftly closed the distance between us. “You weren’t going to wait for me?” he inquired, looking around at the nearest houses.

  “Neither were you,” I pointed out.

  The warlock gave a nearly imperceptible shrug of his narrow shoulders. “I was confident that you would catch up.” He paused and looked over at me, frowning. “Though I thought you’d at least have the sense to change clothes.”

  I grunted and continued down the block, heading toward the house from where the magic emanated. “I didn’t want to waste the time. We’ve been too close and just missed him.” A large two-­story Georgian-­style redbrick house with dark evergreen shutters rose up in the middle of the block. The front windows were dark, but dim light glowed from the back of the house, possibly the kitchen, and was leaking down the main hall. “Besides, we’re still in Low Town. Someone could recognize me.”

  “If anyone happens to see us together, I promise to knock you around,” Gideon said with a little smirk. “Wouldn’t want to ruin your precious cover.”

  “Fuck you,” I growled as I stepped around the smug warlock and walked up to the front of the house. I was just ready to get this done. I knew there was no chance of Trixie and I finishing our discussion until we were both done working for the night, but it would be nice to go back to her with news that at least one psychopath had been stopped.