by Michele Hauf
“With the right conditions. Though my glamour has been weakened by this realm. Normally a walk across the yard would do it. I don’t know what you’ve done to kill your flora, but you killed it good.”
“I do mark my territory out there once in a while,” he said with a wink.
“That’ll do it.” She laughed. “Be thankful the grass is now green. I figure if I give it some time the green will wander closer to the brown stuff and then I can mingle them and create new life.”
“It’ll be fall soon enough. The winter will kill everything, so you might as well wait for spring.”
“Yes, but it’s a challenge I can’t resist. So how was work? I watched a television show today and it was about a married couple. The wife asked the husband about his work and made him brownies. Do you want me to make you brownies?”
Kir perked, his shoulders straightening. “Do you know how to make brownies?”
“Only the annoying little ones who sneak into a person’s house at night to clean. Well, I don’t make them. Although I did make it with a brownie once...” Bea giggled and hugged Kir. “Mmm, you always smell so good.”
And he was getting a hard-on. Par for the course, but only because he absolutely refused to imagine Bea getting it on with a brownie. But he’d better tell her about today’s work before they got to the sex. Or would it be better if he got some before revealing details? No, he wouldn’t do that to her. For good or for ill, he had to tell her what he’d learned.
“I think I got a lead on your mother today. She’s not vampire.”
“How can you be so sure? Did you find a way to verify that?” She pulled out of the hug and stumbled backward until her shoulders hit the fridge. “That doesn’t make sense.” She tapped her incisors. “Fangs. And the blood drinking.”
“Lots of species in the paranormal realm have fangs, Bea.”
“Yes, but what else could she have been?”
“Demon?”
“What? No, you’re— Why would you suggest that?”
He sensed her nervous anxiety in the way she bounced on her toes and clasped and unclasped her arms across her chest. Maybe demons were as nasty to faeries as they were to him.
“We apprehended a demon today, in conjunction with a case I’m working, and I had a moment to ask if he had heard about Sirque.”
“Why would you ask some random demon about my mother?”
“Bea. I didn’t think this would upset you—”
“I don’t understand you, Kir. You don’t even like demons,” she accused. “They are nasty to you. And if I had a demon mother—”
“Bea!”
She pressed her back to the fridge, casting him a fearful look. Kir checked his tone. He had not raised his voice to her, ever. But she was being irrational and he hadn’t even spilled details.
“The demon had heard of her and confirmed she was demon.”
“Because there’s only one Sirque in the world? Come on, Kir—”
He grasped her upper arms gently and held her tearing gaze. “Bea,” he said as gently as he could. “This is what he told me. He said Sirque was rumored to be in Daemonia, because she had to go deep for what she was looking for.”
“What does that mean?”
“I have no clue. He intimated it was sexual.”
“Yuck, don’t tell me.”
“I won’t. That’s all he told me. But it gives us a place to look for your mother. Daemonia. Aren’t you at the least pleased to have a lead?”
She bowed her head. Her delicate shoulders shook in his grasp. Maybe learning that she was one step closer was too much to handle. She must have thought about her mother every day, and now to be closer—shouldn’t she be happier?
Bea shoved out of his grasp. “You’re telling me that I’m part demon?”
He could only offer a shrug.
“I need to think about this.” She ran up the stairs.
And Kir put his palm over his heart. She was upset. Because of him. It hurt to know he’d been the cause of her pain. But he’d give her some space.
Maybe.
Hell, he couldn’t follow her. He wanted to. He needed to circle her in his arms and tell her he would protect her. Because he wanted to protect her, to give her everything she desired, even if that meant going to Daemonia to do so. But how to get to the Place of All Demons?
And did he really believe he could go there? The one place in the world occupied by the breed he hated most?
If Bea’s mother was demon, that meant Bea was half demon. Kir’s heart thudded.
“Hell.”
Chapter 13
Bea rushed into the bathroom and closed the door. Her head spun with what Kir had revealed about her mother. It couldn’t be right. Sirque was not a common name, but surely more than one in this vast mortal realm possessed it?
He’d found the wrong Sirque. She was sure of it.
Because to suddenly be told she could be half demon had reached in and clenched her heart in a painful twist.
Half vampire, she could deal with. She’d been dealing all her life thinking as much. Her stepsiblings had shunned her and she had learned to live in the shadows. And drinking ichor, and now blood, was not at all terrible. It was simply a part of who she was.
And always her father had made her feel less than worthy. Which was why she found it hard to know what to do with the unconditional acceptance Kir gave her.
But demons had created those shadows she had clung to for comfort. Demons existed in Faery. They were reviled. Their blood was black and their eyes red. They exuded a foul scent and had been birthed from Beneath. Beneath was a realm away from Faery and the mortal realm. It was not spoken of but always induced a shudder when the dark and twisting evil that writhed within its confines were thought about. Never were they mentioned by name.
Those demons who managed to mate with the sidhe produced half-breed offspring who were never accepted by the faeries and could never be accepted by their own. If a faery saw one of the half-breeds, they whispered of The Wicked. Such half-breeds were filthy and not to be dealt with.
Demons were the sidhe’s one bane.
Bea remembered once seeing a demon lurking in the shadows. Its red eyes had glowed brightly and she had screamed.
“Red.” She wandered to the vanity and looked in the mirror. “And silver?”
Her father’s eyes were silver. Elder faeries’ eyes always changed from the common sidhe violet to silver or sometimes turned white. If her mother’s eyes had been red...
She recalled mixing the red drink powder into the water that had shimmered silver in the sunlight and marveling over how it had turned the water pink.
Tears spilled from Bea’s eyes as she stared at the pink irises her mother and father had created. Was she one of The Wicked?
Breaths caught at the back of her throat, making it impossible to swallow. She clutched her neck, wincing. She should have never sought her mother.
A knock on the door startled her. She sniffed back a tear. “You okay, Bea?”
“No.” She would never again be okay. Not if she truly were half demon. On many occasions her husband had plainly stated he did not like demons. In fact, he hated them. Oh!
The doorknob turned and Kir walked up and stood behind her, meeting her gaze in the mirror. He didn’t touch her. She might shove him away if he did. She might not. She didn’t know what to do right now. How could he bear to stand so close, knowing she could be half demon?
“I can’t be demon,” she whispered. “That’s the worst.”
“You are what you are. You’re good, Bea. You will not become what you expect from such a creature.”
“Creature,” she muttered. “Oh, Kir, do you know we sidhe call them The Wicked? They are vile.”
His arms bracketed her at the moment she felt her knees weaken, and she sank against his strong, solid body. He felt like sanctuary, a world apart from the horrific world she’d been thrust into. Here stood a man who would protect her.
But coul
d he protect her from herself?
“It’s going to be okay,” he said in a quiet tone. “I’ll be here for you, no matter what.”
“You will? But...but you don’t like demons.”
He stepped beside her and slid his hand into hers. The bonding marks on the backs of their hands flickered, then glowed briefly. She gasped at the sight of it. “It did that in the car, too. I think it means...”
He lifted her hand to kiss it, and again the mark glowed briefly. “Our connection makes it brighter.”
She nodded and caught a gasp in her throat. Could that mean that he was falling in love with her? That she was falling in love with him? What cruelty had saddled Kir into a marriage and then to learn that he had bonded with something he most hated?
Bea looked up to her husband’s face and he bent to kiss her.
“We’ll get through this,” he said. “If you want me to continue to track your mother, I’ll do what I can. If you want to drop it, we can do that, too.”
She nodded. “I need to give it some thought. Kir, why are you taking this so well?”
“It’s easy enough when you are involved.”
“But you hate demons.”
“I do have a demon half brother.”
“That you never speak to!” She exhaled a breath. “I think... I need to be alone. I’m not sure. Maybe I need you here. I’m just so...hungry. Stones, I need blood. I should go out.”
He tugged her hand as she started to leave the bathroom. “I don’t want you going out in the condition you’re in.”
“But I’m hungry. I... Blood. I know that will take the edge off. Maybe it’ll help me to relax and sleep after everything I’ve learned.”
“Then take from me.”
“No. Kir, you said I couldn’t bite you again. I don’t want to give you the blood hunger.”
“If you’re not a vamp—”
Bea put up her hand. “Don’t say that. We don’t know what I am.”
“The blood test came back from the doctor. I don’t have vampire taint in me. And it’s probably for this very reason.”
Bea moaned miserably. The word taint sounded like something associated with The Wicked. She didn’t want to taint anything. Most especially, her husband.
He led her out of the bathroom and into the bedroom, where he directed her to sit on the bed. Disappearing into the closet, Kir returned holding her blade. The setting sun flashed in the iridescent violet that sheened the black blade. “If you cut me, it’s not a bite. Yes?”
“Maybe. Oh, it’s the same thing. I’ll still be consuming your blood.”
“Yes, but your fangs won’t enter me. If you are vampire, the vampiric taint won’t enter my system.”
That did make sense.
“I’m willing to let you try. I want to be what you need.”
He strolled into the bathroom and returned with the glass he kept on the vanity. He didn’t even wait for her to stop him. He put the glass in her hand. Then he slashed the blade across his wrist. He held it over the glass, filling it with half an inch of his blood before pulling away and pressing his thumb to his wrist to stanch the bleeding.
Seeing the warm red liquid catch a glint from the overhead light, Bea traced her fingernail along the rim of the glass. When she had thought she was half vampire, the idea of consuming blood hadn’t bothered her. It was what she needed to survive.
But if she was half demon, what did that mean? What demons consumed blood? Had an innate need for the substance? Thinking about it made her shiver.
Kir tilted the goblet and she drank, allowing him to feed her. The first taste was warm and thick. Lush. It burst on her tongue and she swallowed it all, closing her eyes to the heady flavor of pure werewolf. Bea hummed deep in her throat and smiled.
Kir kissed her forehead. “Good?”
“Beyond description,” she murmured. And yet, something was missing. She couldn’t name the something, though. She needed... Oh, it didn’t matter. “Thank you. I...don’t know how to say it enough.”
He kissed her mouth and tapped her nose with a finger. “Why don’t you run yourself a hot bath and relax. I’m going to order in something to eat. I’ll bring up the food when it gets here.”
“I’m good. Just get something for yourself. A bath sounds like the perfect thing to lull me to sleep. You don’t mind if we don’t...?”
“We can’t have sex every night.”
“We can’t?”
He chuckled. “We can, but tonight I think we just need to snuggle and hold one another.”
“That sounds like a treat better than your blood, husband. Come snuggle with me after you’ve eaten.”
“I will.”
He strode down the stairs, and Bea whispered, “I hate you, wolf.” And she filled in for Kir’s reply with, “I hate you, too.”
Then she shook her head and smiled. “But not really.”
The blood he had given her warmed her all over and she wrapped her arms about herself, reveling in his selfless sacrifice.
* * *
Kir wandered about the kitchen after he’d called for delivery. He rubbed his temples. Clasped his hands in fists, in and out. Paced the hallway from the front door to the kitchen. The possibility of Bea being part demon was not cool. He didn’t love Edamite, that was for sure. Now to accept that his wife could be part demon?
What hell had he fallen into?
He rubbed his wrist where the cut had already healed. A blood-drinking wife. He’d never in a million years have thought that was what his destiny held. A destiny he’d been forced into. But if she was not vampire, then he had no fear of developing the blood hunger. That should make everything between them right.
He wanted to make this work because...because of Bea. He adored her. And really? He rubbed the mark on the back of his hand.
Was he falling in love with her? Or had it already happened?
He exhaled. “Part demon?”
And now the investigation was leading him toward demons, as well. The last thing he wanted to associate with was fast becoming the only way toward answers. Answers for questions he was sure he’d never in a million years purposely ask.
He had never wanted to follow in his father’s footsteps, and, yet, he was inexplicably tracing those very steps right now. He’d engaged in a relationship with a woman who was part demon. Possibly?
“Fuck,” he muttered.
Chapter 14
Standing out in the backyard, considering her options for the flower bed, Bea rubbed the back of her neck and turned her face up toward the sun. It wasn’t as bright here in the mortal realm. Nothing wrong with that. The sun in Faery had been cruel at times. She’d preferred her cool yet bright rooms, and when she had spent time out in nature it had been in the shaded forest that hugged her father’s demesne.
She should be able to make these flowers grow. For some reason, this morning she didn’t feel as spunky and go get ’em as she normally did. And that was odd, because she’d drunk Kir’s blood last night. Blood always got her going.
Did she need to take blood directly from the vein? Had drinking it from a glass somehow robbed it of vital nutrients she needed for survival? Could her other half be holding her back? Now that she was in the mortal realm, it was possible her vamp—or demon side—was stronger. A drain to her faery magic.
She dug her toes into the dirt and concentrated. No flowers. Not a bud or green leaf.
If she had a mother to talk to, she might get some answers to those questions. But if her mother was demon, she wasn’t sure anymore that she wanted to hear the answers. No wonder her father had protected her from Sirque’s true nature all these years. Allowing her to believe she was half vampire had been a mercy when the other option was demon.
“I’m not even a dark one,” she whispered. “I’m one of The Wicked.”
If she really was half demon, then why did she drink blood? Did The Wicked live off blood and ichor? Ugh. Just thinking the word demon gave her a stomachache. An
d knowing that The Wicked were ostracized and hidden away in a part of Faery the sidhe never traveled to made her shudder. That was where she belonged.
She sat on the grass and extended her legs. Leaning forward, she stretched out her arms over the soft green grass. She should plant her feet and draw up the vita from the ground to transfer it to the flowers.
Could it be her demonic half that was zapping her nature vita?
She wanted to unfurl her wings because that might help, but Kir’s warning about nosy neighbors kept them safely concealed. And she always remembered now to put on clothes when going outside. She suspected the face that often appeared in the second-floor window in the house to the left was an old man. Probably hadn’t seen a naked woman in ages.
Thinking about being naked segued her thoughts to skin and heat and Kir’s impossibly muscled body. She could really use some of that right now. Anything to keep her mind from the dire thoughts of living secluded away from all others and labeled one of The Wicked.
She squinted up at the sun. Funny, she’d never been so sexually hungry while in Faery. She’d gotten some maybe once or twice a month. Here in the mortal realm? She would really be pleased to have it every day.
And what was that about?
Must be what having a sexy hubby did for a girl.
“Here’s hoping he can adjust to having a demon for a wife. Ugh, Bea, don’t even say that. Stop thinking about it!”
The flowers shivered near her legs and she beat the ground. “Stupid, dry, lifeless plants. I’m going to infuse you with some vita if it kills me.”
The struggle to bring life to this garden, at the very least, would distract her thoughts from more dire issues.
* * *
Kir set the take-out bag on the kitchen table and decided he’d look up chefs in the directory later. He didn’t expect Bea to learn to cook and felt it was sort of an ingrained thing. A girl grew up learning how to cook at her mother’s side. Bea hadn’t a mother or, apparently, anyone who had cared much to spend any time teaching her.
Fluttering into the kitchen, his wife, sans wings, infused the room with a burst of pink.
Bea rubbed her hands together in glee. “What is for dinner tonight? You know how much I love that you can pull a full meal out of a bag.”
