The Demon's Change

by Donna McDonald

  Kefira nodded. “Yes. Being this close to you, I can sense your extreme unease in both body and spirit. Unfortunately, I don’t think I have any answers you’re ready to hear. The knowledge I have might even make it worse. This makes me a bit fearful of sharing with you.”

  “I’m willing to hear anything that illuminates the situation. I spent two years not knowing I carried a demon. I never want to be confined to that kind of spiritual darkness again,” Ania said.

  Kefira bowed her head at the Pleiadian’s sincerity. “Is it really illumination you seek? Or validation that your intense resentment is justified? Sometimes a being has to take actions to free itself from the burden of logic. Sometimes great illumination comes in the middle of great trials.”

  “Indeed? What kind of knowledge can only be gained by losing control of myself? Why would the Creators allow me to hurt those around me when they spent centuries retraining me to see the wrong of such actions? What you say makes no sense,” Ania declared.

  Kefira sighed. “Let’s approach this then from another perspective. I think your suffering is not for your personal illumination, but rather for the one residing inside you to gain insight. The emissary is not a demon in need of redemption, but she does seem to need some knowledge you possess.”

  Ania glared and narrowed her gaze. “So you do know what’s going on.”

  Kefira shrugged. “Not exactly—but I have been forming an opinion these last two days. Beyond that, my intuition says the being within you is almost finished with the task it has been given. I urge you to be patient. It is for the good of your children, as well as for the being that serves you.”

  “Malachi?” Ania asked. These days she often forgot what Malachi was until some crisis brought it back to her consciousness. He seemed so normal while inhabiting Conor’s body.

  Kefira smiled. “The demon will benefit indirectly from what you are enduring, but I meant the one who is studying you while she cares for the lives you are bringing into the world. She resided in Boca Ador during her mate’s claiming. She went into you just after conception occurred. Given your extensive spiritual training, your extreme negative reaction to her presence was probably not something she anticipated happening, even if you are the first of your kind.”

  Kefira shrugged again at the look of confusion on Ania’s face and let her argument drift off.

  “The first of my kind? You mean the first frustrated yet enlightened demon host who feels torn between dualities every moment she breathes?” Ania demanded.

  “Yes,” Kefira answered firmly, making herself hold the angry Pleiadian female’s gaze. “That is precisely what I mean. You understand both the darkness and the light in all around you. You live more in balance than most creatures can even dream of being. I think the one that is in you needed to quickly assimilate the knowledge you spent your whole life gaining. Absorbing it via their energy form . . . well, it is their way. I don’t think she meant to harm you physically.”

  Ania snorted. “If the emissary in me had chosen to reside in you instead, I think asking questions could have served the same purpose for her enlightenment.”

  “Not if the emissary needed to experience the energy setting within you so she could replicate them,” Kefira declared.

  Ania snorted again and looked away. “Well, that scenario might have at least saved me from being rendered unconscious and sedated to keep the crew safe.”

  Kefira sighed and nodded. “I agree that was a most unwelcome circumstance. Please understand that what I share is only what I personally read in a being’s situation. I cannot truly explain the motivations of any creature but myself.”

  “That is quite a convenient rationalization for excusing the bad behavior of the emissaries you host regularly. Unfortunately, it is not believable to someone who regularly hosts a demon and has to keep him in line. I am aware of Malachi’s energy and motivations every moment I breathe. Are you saying you have no similar awareness of the entities you host?”

  Kefira shook her head. Downplaying the truth would have no effect on the sharp Pleiadian or her intuitive senses. “No, I am not saying that. I do have a sense of their presence and retain some memory of their resonance after they leave. In fact, the energy trail an emissary leaves in their hosts can be followed. Boca Ador, Rena Trax, and even Malachi have traces of the same resonance. Even though I cannot read you clearly, because of that trail I can make a fairly good guess that the same emissary is now working in you. For reasons I am sure you understand better than I do, she does not want Malachi to become aware of her presence—at least not yet.”

  Ania rolled off her knees and swung them up to wrap her arms around them. “What is the greater purpose of my body being infested by a second parasitic, power-mad creature? When the emissary inhabited the body of Rena Trax, I had power over her. Now she has power over me. Is she seeking some sort of retribution?”

  Kefira laughed. “Doubtful, since emissaries seem immune to those sort of petty motivations. But then who knows what remains from the emissary’s former corporeality? I try not to judge, but am always grateful when I wake after a possession and see my physical form is unaltered.”

  “Perhaps some emissaries are without petty motivations, but the one I encountered personally was not that good. She felt no remorse for torturing Malachi to the point of pain even without provocation,” Ania said.

  Sighing over their unpleasant exchange, Kefira stared at the mat as she looked for better words. “I’m trying to think of how to say what I think may be happening. When the emissary I hosted merged Seta Trax with the Demon Zorinda, the goal for the emissary in Rena changed dramatically. The former corporeal spirit—the real Rena Trax—returned to fill a purpose. Will the resurrected being remain in her old body? My guess is that she will not. I think Rena’s body is being preserved while the emissary intending to use it is learning and studying others.”

  “Are you saying the Trax siblings and I are some sort of advanced school for the emissaries?” Ania demanded.

  Kefira sighed. “No. I am merely postulating possible theories based on my experiences. I have no ability to convince you how important their task is among us, so I will cease that line of debate. Before my last emissary left, I was told to make sure Captain Synar got a better ship. This is the reason you now occupy the Guardian 13. I didn’t get a chance to ask why it was necessary . . . but then I never do.”

  “Do you really grant those that possess you a blind obedience each time?” Ania asked.

  “Yes—willingly. I do so in exchange for insight, illumination, and a path to peace that harms the fewest creatures possible. We are far more connected to each other than our minds can comprehend. Even Commander Jet’s less enlightened home planet has explanations such as karma. All actions ripple change. Have you not said this yourself in your many years as an ambassador? There is a critical need for more conscious decision making based on this profound truth.”

  Ania nodded at the wisdom, but it did not make her feel less angry over her body being used without permission. “I can agree with your words because I have felt those connections. Understanding such things brought me out of my self-serving habits and into caring for others.”

  “Yes,” Kefira agreed, “and I’m sure you have also learned that sometimes self-serving tendencies end up working for the greater good. The demon fixed your reproductive system expressly so that you could carry the Synar legacy forward. His motivation was to ensure the only family he has known continues. It is the nature of all energy to propagate itself.”

  “Oh, yes. Propagation is of such importance that it can even be forced on unwilling females. My mate said only males can carry the Synar legacy. It would serve him right if I am carrying two females,” Ania said.

  “I think your mate has as much to learn as you do. I was told by the emissary that they are one of each and that they both will carry on the family legacy. One will be tied to the Synar demon. The other will inherit yours and the greater task,” Kefira said.<
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  Ania breathed in and out slowly. Her thoughts went to dwell on the children she carried and on the future. She knew Kefira was talking about her conversion of Conor Synar into the Demon of Looren. While the resistance of the being she imprisoned in Malachi’s amulet was always present inside her, she had learned to ignore Conor’s pleas for release. It was one of the reasons she had no regret for her actions. Liam would never have been able to bear the additional emotional burden. Malachi was enough.

  Now that she knew more about her destiny, what difference had it made to her current fate? The answer was none. Her body was probably hosting the being that she had fought and that Malachi still desired. His reasons for doing so exceeded her logic, but given her tolerance of Liam Synar, she could not judge the demon’s poor taste.

  And Kefira said she carried both a son and a daughter. The dual birth siblings would have enormous responsibilities waiting for them to come of age. Could she really prepare them for that?

  “Is a warrior really fit to be the mother of a legacy? I think not, Kefira. Maybe it would be better if I found someone to assume the children’s care after birth until they are of an age to be trained to fight,” Ania said.

  Kefira smiled. “I think you will adjust to them, but I was also told that help will arrive when you need it. Continue to trust the Creators to work out their greater purpose in your life, Ania Looren. They seem to be able to make the most amazing things happen.”

  “Chel’uum mo car. Was any creature ever as pious and devoted as you seem to be? Even Dorian Zade doubts his service to the Creators of All now and again.”

  Kefira bowed her head, honored by words that she imagined Ania meant to be more insult than praise. “I admit that I have repeatedly been blessed. Unlike many on this ship, I have never been forced to serve against my will. I have always chosen to do so. Perhaps that makes the difference.”

  “Perhaps it does,” Ania said, rising to her feet. She bowed to the still kneeling female. “Thank you for sharing your thoughts, Kefira. My need to strike out at all those around me has at least been divided in half now. My mate will surely be grateful. May the Creators bless you as their faithful servant.”

  Kefira bowed her head at the truly kind words and stayed that way until Ania Looren left. Then, swiveling back, she faced the wall and began her meditation in earnest. She was going to need all the help the Creators would give her.

  ***

  “Are you sure Kefira spoke truth?” Malachi asked.

  Ania shrugged. “No. I am sure of nothing. But I have had a sense of peace since I talked to her.”

  Malachi paced across his room, keeping his back to Ania as he thought. Hope that the emissary intended to come back flared in his chest. It was like a light being turned on in a dark room. “Do you actually think . . . ”

  “ . . . that your emissary is going to return to you?” Ania finished the question for him. “Turn and face me, Malachi. We have no secrets from each other. I know you have great compassion for the duplicitous creature that subdued you. It is the worst thing I know about your character.”

  Malachi laughed as he turned to face his chastiser. “Come now, Ania Looren. Don’t you even like to pretend we have some secrets?”

  “No,” Ania said sternly, but let her mouth curve up in a smile.

  Malachi shook his head and started to pace. “I am too befuddled by your information to argue with you today. My physical form is strangely dizzy. Why would mere words about an unsubstantiated possibility cause such a strong reaction in this form?”

  Ania ignored his plea to understand. “It has to be her, Malachi. Who else but the emissary has been allowed such power over either of us? She has blocked you on purpose and now she is punishing me. Kefira thinks she may be carrying out some alleged good deed concerning the Synar progeny.”

  Deep masculine laughter bubbled up inside him, escaping without his permission.

  “Synar progeny? Can you still not bring yourself to call them your children?”

  Ania snorted. “No. I’m still angry at the one who caused my infernal condition. It could take me awhile.”

  Malachi walked back to stand in front of a frowning Ania. “May I embrace you? I have been practicing to do so without taking advantage of those I hug.”

  Rolling her eyes, Ania nodded, a ragged sigh escaping when his arms wrapped her close. “Your hugging is getting much better. Remember the point is to soothe the other being, not break them.”

  Her praise prompted him to squeeze tighter while he laughed against the top of her head. “At last, a compliment. I feared you might never say another kind word to anyone ever again. Now don’t exhaust your momentary goodwill on me. Make sure you save a little bit for your mate. The closer we get to Norblade, the more stressed Liam is becoming, though he’s trying hard not to let it bother him.”

  Despite her frustration with nearly everything in her life, Ania laughed at Malachi’s concern for Liam. No true brother could be more caring. She hoped one day that realization occurred to someone other than her.

  “I haven’t let Liam touch me since the sedative wore off. I’m still mad that he didn’t control his vibrations. Norblade males always know when they put babes in their females. He did this to me on purpose. He totally disregarded my feelings on the matter when we were not yet in agreement.”

  “Yes. Norblade males do usually know when it happens, except in cases where their mates insist they abandon their control,” Malachi said, pushing her out to arm’s length and holding her still so she would listen. “Remember the day you made Liam bond with you in preparation for talking to Conor?”

  Ania closed her eyes and sighed. “Are you saying that was the day I conceived?”

  Malachi laughed at her chagrin, enjoying it immensely. “Well, as much as I can calculate the exact moment of conception. Locked out of you, I haven’t been able to personally observe their growth in a while. But as for the answer to your question—yes. I’m saying Liam’s lack of control was likely your fault. So swallow that pride of yours and go make up with your mate.”

  Ania choked back the swear words. “Never. I’d rather be strung up and tortured by Issa Onin than admit this could be my fault. I did not seek my condition and I refuse to accept blame for it.”

  Malachi let go of her arms to laugh harder than he had ever laughed before.

  Ania fisted hands on hips and glared. “I am grateful you have your own physical form because it allows me to walk away from you. I’m not in the mood to deal with your disloyalty.”

  She walked to the door and opened it with a hard yank.

  “Disloyalty? Never. Ania, please stop.”

  She turned back to glare some more. “Yes?”

  Malachi straightened. “Thank you for sharing the information from Kefira. I feel relieved and even somewhat euphoric. Can you not explain these strange emotions to me?”

  “Of course I can, but I have no intentions of doing so . . . at least not today.” Ania frowned at Malachi’s knowing smile. “My irritation is not amusing. Call the bursar tomorrow. You need a haircut. And make sure you do a thorough check tonight in case anything else needs attention.”

  “As you wish,” Malachi said, smiling at her weak attempt to establish power. Ania well knew he checked his host body every night whether the order was reissued or not.

  “That’s it. I’ve had enough of your sarcasm,” Ania declared, turning on her heel again and stomping away.

  When the door slammed shut behind her, Malachi shook his head.

  “Gestation mood shifts have begun already. What a fun time we’re all going to have for the next year. At least, I hope it’s just a year. I really need to get back inside her and calculate a due date.”

  Humming, he headed to his cleansing area.

  Chapter 9

  “Having a meal alone with you is an unusual pleasure,” Dorian said, admiring the preparations his mate had made for them as he sat in the seat across from her. “I think I am going to enjoy shari
ng the commander’s private dining space.”

  “Stop making dinner sound like foreplay, Zade. You’re making me feel guilty. I warned you I had a reason for setting this up this evening. I wanted to talk with you alone, but not about us. It’s about something serious.”

  Gwen lifted the protective cover from her dish to see yet another beautiful array of food waiting for her. It was just like she told Ania. Food preparation on the Guardian 13 was better than on most planets she had visited. If she gained any more weight though, she was going to have to drop to half rations.

  Deciding to push that unpleasant reality aside for at least one more day, she sighed contentedly as she picked up her multi-purpose eating utensil. Her sigh of pleasure filled the room as she scooped up her first bite.

  “I admit this is a lot more relaxing than sitting in the common room.”

  Dorian smiled. “I’m glad to see you enjoying the benefits of your rank for once. You work hard and deserve the luxury of a private space.”

  Gwen laughed at his sincere praise. “Do you know what kind of favors I would have performed on you if you would have said that the first year I joined the crew?”

  Dorian grinned and shrugged. “It was true even then, but finding fault with your leadership helped me justify staying away from you.”

  Gwen nodded as she chewed. They had put that early conflict behind them, but it was their shared past. There was no reason to avoid the subject. “So how’s that plan working for you these days? Still finding fault with what I do?”

  A low sexy laugh was the same response her Siren mate gave to a lot of the teasing demands she made. There were many things about the male across from her that she had grown to admire, but one was that she sincerely loved watching Zade eat. He smiled at his food, closed his eyes while he chanted in Siren for a minute, and then he expelled a relaxed breath before taking the first bite. He would savor each taste like a male who had never tasted food before. It was just one of his many rituals. Several others involved treating her with an even greater level of gratitude.