A Demon's Dark Embrace

by Amelia Hutchins

  “I don’t care if you’re her best fucking friend, Syn, cross me on this and you’ll wish you never had,” Ristan growled.

  “I understand you, Demon,” she growled back, her eyes daring him to continue.

  He was being carried out; it was fucking ridiculous, but he had no strength. His only saving grace was that he had the little bitch, and she was all his. Maybe she was innocent, or maybe she was as traitorous as he’d assumed her to be in the first place.

  It didn’t matter; she was his now, and he’d get revenge.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Olivia was sifted to the surface by the big Fae who killed the fake Enforcers that had been holding her. The wards were gone if the Fae could sift, and that disturbed her greatly. She dazedly viewed the destruction; everything she had seen over the past couple of days started to sink in and threatened to bring her to her knees with overwhelming grief. This wasn’t just an attack; it had been exactly as Cyrus had said it was. This had been an elimination of an entire Guild and all of its members. No one had been spared; even the innocent had been slaughtered.

  She watched as bodies were brought out, innocent lives shattered by her own actions. She hadn’t held the gun, but she wondered if this attack would have had a very different outcome if she hadn’t taken out the most powerful Elder and the monster he’d been keeping company with.

  She swallowed a broken sob as Michael’s body was brought up and carefully placed on the ground. Synthia watched it as well; her eyes rose to meet and hold Olivia’s. Olivia broke the stare and watched the ground, unable to stomach her own guilt.

  Justin was being helped to stand, and as she watched him, he lifted his eyes and smiled coldly, unaffected by the open wounds she could see. He watched her, as she tried to process what had happened. Her mind was on where Alden might be, and the kids still hidden in the catacombs.

  Safe. The kids were safe. She’d done her job, and she’d protected the next generation of Guild members. It was the only thing that kept her going at this point. She knew Justin would end her, but then she’d meet the same fate if she stayed in this world—if those who supported Cyrus got hold of her.

  Maybe he’d be quick about it. Maybe, just maybe he’d do it now.

  She didn’t want to die, but she didn’t want to live with this guilt. There was no win in this situation; only death and destruction. All of these deaths would rock the world, and be felt everywhere. Too many innocents lost, including her previously naïve view of life.

  Justin hadn’t been the one responsible for this mess, but she’d heard his tortured screams until he’d gone silent, with only the occasional scream tearing through the silent Guild.

  It wasn’t rocket science. People died, but this? This was a fucking slaughter, one she’d unknowingly started. The why of it was killing her; she couldn’t understand why Cyrus would work with that evil God and bring those men here to destroy the Guild. She watched Adam and Synthia, wondering how they felt about this; did they care? This had been their home as well, and while they were labeled traitors, they were here helping to take away the bodies of the dead, to prevent them falling into the wrong hands. But who were the monsters now? She looked at the crowd of Humans screaming at the Fae who held them away from the Guild. Were some of the fake Enforcers, even now, hiding in the crowd among the Humans?

  Her eyes swept over the Fae working together to bring out the bodies of the unlucky members of the Guild. They wore black, form-fitting body armor. It made them easy to spot, even in the chaos around them. Synthia and the Dark Prince wore black, and Adam and a few others wore a shadowy gray-colored armor. She wondered at the difference, and what it signified for the Fae. Nothing she had ever seen in her reports had mentioned their armor, or what it stood for, if anything.

  She felt hands on her shoulder and numbly straightened up and stepped back, knowing she couldn’t fight this. She watched as Synthia said something to the Dark Prince, and then the Fae that had been guarding the dead bowed to the prince, blurred out of sight, and the dead began disappearing with them. Half a block away, she noticed a portal had been opened in the middle of the street. Her mind went numb with horror to see such a thing opened so close to the Guild, and right in front of this many Humans. The Fae who brought her out of the Guild passed her to another Fae with dark brown hair who took hold of her arm roughly. Fire flared from the palms of the first guard’s hands, but before she could warn them of the children hiding in the catacombs, he set blaze to the entire Guild, quicker than anything she could have expected.

  She screamed hysterically, unsure of how to explain the children and unable to make the right words come out. She cussed and cursed them all to the bowels of hell, as her heart broke, and her one purpose for believing she’d done one right thing burned in the blue flames of the Fae.

  Eventually, her screams turned to silence as she lost her voice for the most part. She spoke when spoken to, and swore when the need arose, but eventually she ended up in a cell, gagged and bound as she awaited her sentence. Death by Fae? FIZ sounded great about now, to become some mindless zombie with no knowledge of what she’d done? Sign her up.

  *~*~*

  Ristan was startled awake from disturbing dreams to a darkened medical ward. He relaxed against the medical bed, his eyes scanning for signs of life, and noted a bandaged Alden on the other side of the ward, asleep. He closed his eyes, taking a small measure of comfort that the old man hadn’t died on him, after all.

  “Demon,” Danu said, and Ristan stiffened.

  “Go away, just go away, Danu,” he growled, pulling on what little strength he had.

  “No,” she whispered. “I need you now more than ever, Ristan,” she whispered, her eyes filling with tears as she shook her head at the damage that been done to her lover. “He was insane with jealousy, and this is on me.”

  “You’re damn right this is on you. You fucking just can’t stop. You fucked up, and somehow I get the jagged side of it every fucking time. I’m done. Leave me the hell alone, Danu. Find someone else to fuck with,” he snapped, his pain mixing with the knowledge that this was her fault. Alden wasn’t immortal, and he’d made a fucking promise that she had screwed with by stealing the body of a Witch, either in jealousy or a sick and twisted fantasy, which had created a shitstorm as a result.

  She ignored him and instead held his hand against his will. He didn’t have the strength to fight her hold, and as he watched her, he felt a pure, intense flood of power rushing through him as she gave him a seriously kick-ass power rush.

  “I’ll never be done with you, never,” she warned, heat filling her eyes.

  “I’m finished,” he said as he lifted his head so that his eyes could hold hers with his resolve. “We’ve done this dance for long enough, and it’s one-sided. I cared for you. It is possible I even loved you; past tense. You never even told me you were still bound to him, and I had to figure it out as I was being taken apart by your husband. I’m done being your plaything. Find someone else to fucking torture,” he snarled, and sifted, his body trembling from the power she’d fed him.

  *~*~*

  Ristan had spent most of the day attempting to gain control of his form as it continued to shift from Demon to Fae form. He was able to get the location of where the Witch who had been responsible for his past few days of misery was being held by interrupting Synthia and Ryder’s playtime.

  Before Synthia could say more, he pivoted, leaving her in the doorway as he headed to the dungeon for a bit of payback with the little Witch. He heard the faint squall of an infant that stopped him in his tracks, and with barely another thought, he sifted into the nursery.

  He saw a figure leaning over the crib as the babe cried weakly, and his body changed, turning red for battle as a monstrous growl erupted from his throat in warning. A female spun around, her eyes large and rounded with horror by the sight of hi
m.

  “Get out,” he demanded, his eyes tracking her like prey that he’d easily devour. He watched as she sputtered and ran from the nursery, only to fall, and he smiled coldly. He moved to her, his eyes feasting on the soul he could see inside of her, and for the first time in a very long time, he soul-fed from a Fae. He pulled hungrily until he felt her slipping away, belatedly realizing the female was Meriel, one of Synthia’s handmaidens, who would never have meant harm to the child. He forced himself to stop and moved away from where she lay on the floor, her eyes vacant on the ceiling. He could sense her pulse and soul; she would be fine in a few hours.

  He moved to the tiny infant and stared down into the crib. Golden eyes looked up at him as if she knew him even in this form. He reached down, cradling her head gently as he picked her up and moved to the rocking chair.

  She was weak and failing. He placed a kiss on her forehead, giving her a jolt of power to strengthen her little body. “You are strong enough to survive this,” he whispered as he continued to stare down into her beautiful liquid amber eyes.

  His brothers burst into the room. Asrian and Sevrin watched him as if they feared he’d consume the precious baby’s soul. Next came Ryder and Synthia, and he could hear their inner thoughts, their worries that he’d hurt the sweet babe he cradled lovingly in his arms.

  She was a center, and the peace he felt when he touched her was overwhelming. He’d allowed his Demon side to show not because he felt threatened, but because it was easier to show the raw, brutal emotions that he felt. He’d been used as bait for his own brother, the one person who he’d follow blindly into battle. The person who’d protected and saved him as a stupid child. He’d never been as helpless in his life as he’d been in that Guild.

  He ignored them as he allowed a soft hum of music to play in his mind, Owl City’s Vanilla Twilight, which made the tiny babe in his arms smile. Ryder moved forward as if he’d take the mewling infant from him, but Synthia placed a hand on his shoulder, her eyes warning him to stay put.

  Asrian moved to the vacant-eyed nanny who’d tried to abandon her post and was still passed out from his feeding of her soul. He watched absently as Asrian exited the nursery with the maid in his arms.

  “Names are important, Synthia,” Ristan growled, his hand tracing gently over the thick blonde curls on the top of the tiny babe’s head. It was so soft and so precious. She’d never know pain as he had; he’d be her protector to ensure that no harm ever befell her in her lifetime.

  “She’s been named, Ristan; Kahleena,” she said softly. “This one is Zander, and this one is Cade,” she continued as she picked one up. “Do you like the names?” she asked softly, as if she was facing a monster, which almost made him laugh. He felt like a fucking monster.

  “Kahleena is a beautiful name for a beautiful girl,” he whispered, and raised his eyes to meet Synthia’s. “She’s my favorite thing in the world.”

  Ryder growled, and he listened as Ryder and Synthia had an argument through their mental path.

  “She likes you, too,” Synthia finally announced, as more internal arguing ensued about Ristan’s mental stability and fears that he might harm the innocent babe in his arms. Anger and hurt surged through him at the idea that they would even think for a moment that he could harm her.

  “Fuck you all,” Ristan growled, as he stood and walked to the crib with his treasured niece cradled in the crook of his arm.

  He watched from the corner of his eye as Synthia placed one of the boys back into his crib, and then placed a gentle, but firm hand on Ristan’s shoulder.

  “When you’re ready, we are here. Please, make sure she’s fed before she goes back to sleep,” she said surprising him as she took Ryder’s hand and left the room. Ristan felt his heart clench, as a tiny sucking noise started from Kahleena. He loved the name, for it was as beautiful as the tiny babe.

  “I’ll feed you,” he said, wondering why they hadn’t fought him. He looked like a monster, and yet golden eyes stared up at him with no fear marked in their purity. As if he was her savior. He pushed even more power into the tiny female, watching as her skin glowed with golden brands, which would someday mark her skin visibly.

  “You may look like your mother, Kahleena, but you’ve got Horde blood running through you. Your brands say you will be powerful, and with power, comes danger. That danger will never touch you, for I will always protect you. But for now, sleep, and gain strength while I tend to one of those dangers. One that needs to be taught not to fuck with our kind,” he whispered as he placed a gentle kiss on her forehead and laid the already sleeping infant back into her bed. He had a date with a redhead, one who’d wish she’d never been born after he was through with her.

  *~*~*

  Olivia had given up trying to wipe her tears when he showed up. She watched him as he slowly moved to the other side of her cell. As promised, she had been gagged and her hands were securely bound. His demeanor was cold, calculated; but even she could see his pain when he moved. He shouldn’t have been up and around yet because she’d listened to his tortured screams that had ripped through the catacombs for endless hours. She had seen what they did to him.

  His strange eyes watched her as he carefully sat on the other bed across from her. His hands slid together, his long fingers lacing through one another. He didn’t say anything, but she could see that he’d been bandaged up, and looked a little less wounded, but then again, he was Fae.

  She sat silently, her heart pounding erratically as she waited for him to tell her he would end her pathetic existence. Dying a virgin would suck, but hey, she’d take the punches she deserved. She could no longer handle the hatred that shone in his eyes, and lowered hers to the ground.

  “I want you to beg me for mercy,” he growled, and his voice was as rough as hers would have sounded if she was able to speak.

  She just stared at him, his eyes lowering to her mouth, and with a flick of his wrist, which made him wince in pain, he removed her gag.

  She brought her bound hands up to rub her mouth, and lips. “Begging you for mercy won’t help me,” she whispered roughly.

  “Nothing can help you. Not Synthia, not Adam, and sure as fuck not Alden. Not that they’d fucking want to anyway,” he growled. “You belong to me now. No one even knows you’re here, and those that do, won’t cross me—or the King.”

  King? The Dark Fae King? She had seen the Dark Prince at the Guild and hoped that was who he spoke of now.

  “I didn’t have a choice,” she whispered as she once again moved her eyes away from him.

  “Doesn’t matter, nothing does. If I don’t care, you can bet your pretty little ass that no one else here will,” he said as he watched her, his eyes burning accusingly into her skin. “What did they offer you for us? What great reward did they offer you for using your sweet little body to bag a Demon and an Elder?”

  “My life,” she whispered and lifted her eyes to his. “I gave our enemy records and helped them to get Guild secrets. I’m a traitor, one who would have been executed, so even if the Guild knew where I was, they’d only come here to cheer you on,” she murmured as she looked at the bars.

  She could get a spell out, but not one that would work to remove those bars before he choked the life out of her. She turned her eyes back to him and watched as he stood up. As he moved closer, her breathing grew labored, and her heart accelerated. Just as it had when she’d thought him an Enforcer.

  “Told you that I’d have you,” Ristan said, his silver and black patterned eyes watching her closely. The swirls seemed to speed up for a moment. He was still wounded, but the giant who had guard duty now stood closer by her cell, watching her for any sign of attack.

  “I didn’t have a choice,” she whispered. “You are my enemy,” she said, as she coughed over the dryness in her mouth.

  “No,” he laughed coldly. “I wasn’t
an enemy then, but I sure as fuck am now.”

  He grabbed her, his fingers biting her flesh as he slipped some sort of torque around her neck and chanted what sounded like a spell, but the language wasn’t like anything she’d ever heard before. His hands captured her hair, yanking her head back as he lowered his mouth to hers. He didn’t kiss her. He just made damn sure she knew she was at his mercy.

  “Do your worst,” she whispered. “I deserve it,” she finished as tears slipped past her eyes and slowly slid down her cheeks.

  “Tears won’t save you from me; no one in here can save you, either. Remember that. There is no place you can hide from me that I won’t find you. Not this world, or yours, and not even hell, little librarian,” he said, but he sifted out before she could say anything, as she was once again left with the hulking warrior who just shook his head at her.

  “Never seen him like that; if I was you, I’d beg for mercy.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  The medallion on the torque Olivia now wore told Ristan the moment she’d fallen asleep, since it was linked to his own. He smiled coldly as he closed his eyes and prepared to join her in sleep. The medallion didn’t just prevent her from casting spells; it would allow him to walk in her dreams, and do things there that wouldn’t harm her physically here. It would be a way to see her guilt while managing to get a sliver of revenge.

  He entered her dream, watching as she walked through the razed remains of the Guild, her eyes searching through the bodies. Tears streaked down her cheeks as she relived the nightmare. She was searching for something; he could feel her guilt, thick and putrid as it pushed from her pores in waves.

  He shook his head as emotions poured from her. The most damning, of course, was the guilt. She stopped in front of one of the many rooms in the catacombs. A sob broke from her lips as she turned away from the room, unwilling to look inside it.