Demon Warden: A Paranormal Urban Fantasy (The Cursed and the Fallen 1)

by Selene Kallan

  Alice’s lips flicker in a tired smile. “I’d like to keep her in observation for a couple of days.”

  I nod. “Fine, no more than that, however. I’ll reinforce the wards around the hospital but I don’t want to risk Kazzian or whoever put that thing inside her tracing her back here. Frail as her energy core is right now, I’m not willing to take any chances.”

  Alice stretches a bit. “Okay, I’ll go get some rest, a nurse will be at the ready should she need anything.”

  Isir sits on the chair beside the bed, caressing Dinah’s forehead. “I’ll be here too.”

  I meet her eyes and find understanding and curiosity there. Turning from that inquisitive chocolate gaze, I open the door for Alice and follow her to the next floor, where her lab and sleeping quarters are located. She hands me the keycard to her lab and barely gives a small groan of goodbye before opening the door to her quarters.

  I can feel the device pulsing faintly through the closed door, resisting the wards Alice has placed to contain and hide the magic coming from the different horrible devices that are placed on shelves around the vast room. It gets worse once I close the door behind me and walk towards the metallic desk in the center of the room. Alice has placed the device in a magicked glass box, it’s clean of blood, and Dinah’s bone isn’t attached to it, something I’m grateful for. The dark crystal buzzes with hungry magic, almost as if it has a conscience and it’s angry. Perhaps it is now that it has been taken away from such a powerful energy source.

  A surge of angry mystification rises unbidden inside my chest.

  How could she live with that thing devouring her from the inside out for years? And how dare anyone hurt her like that?

  A stranger and a Nephilim or not, I can’t help but find it vile and want to make whoever is responsible for hurting her so badly scream.

  Because it is a twisted thing to do, not because I care particularly for Dinah Novak.

  Not at all.

  CHAPTER 5

  NOX

  “You want me to get a what?” asks Bryce, azure eyes wide with disbelief. We’re standing outside of Dinah’s room in the corridor. Isir, much to her displeasure, had an errand to run. She’s spent as much time as she can with the unconscious Nephilim for the last two days.

  “A limousine,” I say again, resisting the urge to growl.

  He crosses his arms and studies me appealingly.

  I give up and decide to explain, knowing I owe him at least that much considering the favor I’m about to ask.

  “Dinah is in the last semester of informatic engineering,” I tell him. “She’ll need to be escorted in and out of school. I know you have your own business to run and things to do, but I trust no one but you and Isir with the task of taking care of her when I can’t.”

  Bryce blinks and runs a hand through his blond hair. As usual, he’s wearing a tailored suit, it’s a deep midnight blue, and it doesn’t hide the lean, muscular frame that belongs to a warrior. He’s around six-foot-five and looks as if in his late 20s or early 30s. The truth is far from it, he’s 100 years or so older than me and powerful enough to rival demons and Nephilim. Which is partly why his kind has been hunted down until the brink of extinction.

  “So, let me get this straight,” he says, eyes inquisitive. “You want me to be the chauffeur/bodyguard of a 23-year-old Nephilim that’s been robbed of her power and is being hunted down by one of your kin.”

  “And the Nephilim too, considering it was them who crippled her power,” I admit.

  Bryce grins. “This will probably be the most exciting thing I’ve done in the last four decades.”

  I arch a brow. “So you’re in?”

  He chuckles. “Absolutely. What kind of limo though?”

  “Armored, the rest is up to you,” I say, turning towards Alice who’s just exited Dinah’s room.

  The demon surgeon is smiling slightly, she winks at Bryce goodnaturedly. “Long time no see.”

  Bryce smiles. “I’m a healthy guy.”

  Alice grins, electric eyes openly curious. Were Bryce to acquiesce, she would scan him and do whatever else she can to learn about his physiology. I doubt Bryce would be open to that idea.

  I clear my throat.

  Alice turns to me. “Dinah is much better, the bone-implant has been completely assimilated, her regenerative skills are growing steadily. I recommend a comfortable bed and some sunlight. Do not wake her, I’ve given her enough intravenous sustenance for a few days.”

  I nod. “Thank you.”

  Alice grimaces. “Her energy core is still feeble, it’ll take months for it to recover completely.”

  Bryce’s brow furrows. “Months, gods.”

  Alice runs a hand through her hair, smothering a yawn. “I honestly don’t know how she functioned with that thing inside her. I’ve begun to unravel the spells, but I think it’ll take me weeks to figure out the full extent of what it was doing to her,” her eyes meet mine. “Are you sure you’re up for this? Maybe you could contact the Asteri.”

  I clench my teeth. Alice’s worry is for both Dinah’s sake and mine, I refuse to think about the reason why she is concerned about me. Truth is, I ruled out the idea from the beginning. Yes, there are at least a couple of Asteri I am familiar with and could ask for assistance, but they have bigger things to do. And if they took in Dinah, she wouldn’t be able to finish school or see her friends again, she’d be cut off from her life and I know she wouldn’t like that.

  I keep my voice even as I answer. “She wouldn’t fit in with the mission they’re carrying out, you know this. And I am bound to protect her, so I will.”

  Alice nods, I avoid the curiosity burning in Bryce’s eyes.

  “Very well,” Alice says, tone stern. “Take care of my patient, bring her to me if there are any complications.”

  “I will,” I promise.

  Alice bites her lip and looks as if she wants to say more but doesn’t. Instead, she smiles at Bryce and walks towards the stairs.

  “Shall we?” asks Bryce, gesturing the door.

  I nod.

  He opens it and goes in first, taking in a breath at the sight of the unconscious girl on the bed.

  Dinah’s skin doesn’t look sallow anymore, bur creamy. Her messy waves are bright gold around her face, expression relaxed in her sleep, no longer in unbearable pain. She smells like lavender soap, fae magic, and healing medicine, but also like oranges and chamomile, her essence. A sheet covers most of her body, only her arms and face are visible thanks to the thin white hospital gown she’s wearing.

  “She is stunning,” Bryce says, approaching her side. He stretches a hand, hovering right above her sternum. “Gods, there’s barely a few embers there, she is truly drained.”

  Don’t touch her.

  I freeze with the unbidden thought. What should I care if he does?

  “There was only a wisp of it a few days ago,” I say.

  Bryce shakes his head, hand hovering to her leg. “And whatever was there, it clings to her like a shadow.”

  I approach the other side of the bed, mimicking his motion, he’s right.

  I wonder why Alice didn’t get rid of the last trace of corrupt magic. Trying not to cringe, I place my hand lightly on her leg. The gentle warmth that meets my palm makes me want to pull away and not move at once.

  Focus.

  I send a tendril of my power to meet the stain that still clings to her, wondering again why I hadn’t been able to feel the cursed device that night. The trace of magic is faint, but it resists my power. Instead of fighting it, I absorb it, careful not to go anywhere near to her depleted power core. It feels like being pricked by needles through every finger in contact with her covered leg. Dinah sighs in her sleep as if she can feel that the last drop of malignant magic has left her system.

  “Nice,” approves Bryce, I see him staring at me with unhidden surprise with the corner of my eye. I can’t take my eyes off Dinah’s face, her lips are moving.

  “Yes, I’
m sure, couch potato time,” she murmurs. I freeze, thinking she’s waking up, but a quick probe tells me she’s deep asleep.

  Bryce chuckles. “Sleeping next to her must be very entertaining.”

  A flash of something that feels bitter and slightly possessive courses through me. I swallow against the uncomfortable feeling in my throat, deciding not to think of that reaction.

  “I’m 100% sure she would be very upset to have you two ogling her.”

  Both Bryce and I turn towards the sound of Isir’s voice. The succubus’ chocolate eyes are on my hand, the one that’s still lightly on Dinah’s thigh.

  I move it as if burned and the slow, knowing look on Isir’s face makes me want to set something on fire.

  “Isir,” Bryce says, voice low and seductive.

  “Bryce,” Isir responds in kind, long lashes fluttering as she gives him a slow and deliberate once over.

  I swallow back a groan. The amount of pent up desire that runs between them could light up a forest. They’ve satisfied that lust a few times in the past centuries, and I’ve made sure I’m far away from them when they’ve done so. Being an empath and a telepath can be a nuisance sometimes.

  Bryce walks towards Isir and lightly kisses her cheek, she echoes the gesture. “I’d love to stay and chat, but your Highness here has commanded me to get an armored limo to transport Dinah,” the shifter says.

  “Has he now?” Isir asks, and they share a look of amusement.

  I idly ponder using my powers to figure out why.

  Quickly, but as gently as possible, I cradle Dinah in my arms, not bothering to get rid of the sheet covering her. She lets out a low sound of contentment, which makes it hard to ignore how her warmth seeps into me. “I’ll be taking her now, I’ll see you at home, Isir.”

  Isir’s eyes widen like saucers. She opens her mouth to say something, but the vortex of amethyst light has already formed and both Dinah and I arrive at my penthouse. It’s petty, but I feel very pleased to know Isir will be racing on her bike to make sure Dinah’s safe; much as she likes to hide it, she’s worried about me losing my temper and acting on my dislike for Nephilim.

  I look down at the unconscious girl, her breathing is even and deep, no trace of instinctive fear comes from her. Quite the opposite.

  The desire to keep her safe coalesces and sends a flare of fire cutting through the usual iciness inside my chest. I swallow hard and fight down the feeling.

  I portalled us directly inside my room. There’s a guest bedroom, but it doesn’t have the same amount of light. The large sliding glass doors face the balcony, the last sun rays reach the king-size bed. I cradle Dinah against my chest with one arm—her nose lands on my neck, warm breath sending a small shiver through me—and move the cotton blanket with the other, then carefully set her down, removing the clean hospital sheet and replacing it with the white woolen blanket. It’s becoming hard to ignore the persistent little voice in my head that asks annoying questions, like since when have I become comfortable touching a Nephilim? Why do I want to do nothing but stand and watch her sleep? Where did that protective instinct come from?

  I ignore the little voice, checking that she’s comfortable enough and moving so the last light of the day caresses her.

  For some reason I will not examine, I feel almost at peace.

  DINAH

  Thirsty, I am so very thirsty. I open my eyes and frown to the morning light. Ugh, why did I forget to close the curtains? Except those are definitely not the windows of Spencer’s house. The sluggishness vanishes as all the memories come crashing down, like a bucket of icy water. The attack, grandma’s death, and the demon attack in the cemetery. I support myself on my elbows and look around me, the massive bed I am lying on barely occupies space in the monstrosity of a bedroom. Two nightstands of white wood, a large dresser, and a chair are scarce furniture for such a big room; the daylight coming from the double glass doors leading to a wide balcony makes me squint, no curtains. There’s an open door leading to a bathroom and double doors leading to what I assume is the rest of the apartment. A painful stab in my lower belly makes clear that I really, really need to pee. I sit up and the puffy white blanket falls away to reveal a white hospital gown.

  My insides clench.

  What if the demon Prince doubles as an organ collector? Do I still have my kidneys?

  I push the blanket away and gasp as I find a blood-stained bandage on my right leg, exactly where my old surgery used to be. I press my lips not to wail.

  Blood, I hate blood.

  Carefully, I plant both feet on the cold marble floor and push myself up, holding on to the nightstand. My leg hurts, but much less than usual. My panic is put on hold as my bladder protests again. I slightly limp to the bathroom and secure the door behind me.

  The bathroom is pristine and huge. I could easily park a small car in the space between the toilet and the double sinks. White marble on the shower, and floors, granite in the sinks, and a bathtub big enough for three adults.

  Demon Prince and mob boss?

  Gingerly, I examine my reflection after washing my hands. My neck-long, golden locks are in crazy disarray around my pale face. The bruise on my cheek is gone, to my surprise. My already big gray eyes widen even more when I remember the injuries on my ribs and back. I lift the gown and look at my stomach. Yellow/purple marks spread across my ribs. I turn and find much the same on my back. Alarm rears.

  This is not normal at all.

  Unless I’ve been unconscious for a week or two. A tendril of sunlight coming from the small window near the shower reflects on an amethyst crystal hanging from my neck. I lean closer to the mirror to examine the intricate pattern of the silver chain that holds it in place.

  It’s the most beautiful piece of jewelry anyone’s ever put around my neck. But it was put there when I was unconscious.

  For some reason, this makes me fume. I consider yanking it off as I become aware of the small buzz of cool magic coming from it.

  “Dinah,” calls a deep voice I immediately recognize despite having heard it only through the fuzz of rum and searing pain. I look around frantically, searching for potential weapons as a reflex.

  Yeah, because scissors will serve as a weapon against a demon. A demon prince.

  I check the knot on the gown to make sure my pale ass is not on display and open the door.

  He is leaning against the dresser. Wearing black pants and a button-down shirt, looking larger than life; he’s at least eight inches taller than me. His silky hair brushes his collar as he cocks his head, examining me up and down with those unearthly amethyst eyes. His assessment is clinical, not the sort that makes me feel sick. “Why am I naked?” I ask, my voice is reasonably offended.

  He cocks a brow. “You clearly are not.”

  I narrow my eyes. “Right, stupid question, how about what in the hell have you done to me? Why is my leg bandaged? Why is there blood? Why am I not in a hospital? How come have I healed so fast? What happened to Kazzian? What day is it? Why in the hell am I wearing a magicked necklace?” I know my voice sounds angry, I know he saved my ass, but I can’t help the distrust of waking up half-naked and wounded in heaven knows where.

  His brow knits. “Which of your one-hundred questions should I answer first?”

  My fists clench.

  He rolls his eyes. “I have done nothing to you, your leg is bandaged and bloody because you were operated on to extract the binding device blocking your power and draining your life-force. You were in a hospital until recently,” he takes a couple of long strides towards me as my mind reels. “You heal fast because you are not entirely human. Kazzian will not show his nose anytime soon if he knows what’s good for him. The necklace is magicked to conceal your untrained and chaotic power from whoever wishes to hurt you. And finally, today is Thursday.”

  He is two steps away from me now, examining me closely. I know my mouth is open and I look like a fish. For once in my life, I don’t know what to say. Surgery to remove a
device binding my power? Not completely human?

  “Please,” he says, pointing to the bed.

  I don’t feel my body as I walk to the bed and put my numb butt on it. He follows me closely as if ready to catch me in case I faint.

  “May I check the bandage?”

  I shake my head and eye him archly. “You are a demon prince and a doctor?”

  His eyelids droop slightly with irritation. “I need to make sure you are healing properly, otherwise I will have to take you back to the hospital.”

  I purse my lips but nod. Anything to avoid a hospital. He crouches in front of me, his head almost levels with mine so at least he’s not seeing my private bits. I can feel the heat of his hands as he pushes the hem of the gown slightly up and opens the bandage. I clench my teeth as my stomach roils with the faint scent of my blood.

  Crybaby, I scold myself.

  I forget about my phobia as my skin is revealed. No signs of the reddish four-inch long scar I used to have. The skin is slightly red and I can make out a thin white line, but no stitches.

  “D-didn’t you say I was operated on? And Thursday, only four or so days have passed,” my voice is dangerously close to hysterics.

  The Prince meets my eyes as purple fire engulfs the bloody bandage in his hand and then vanishes. I’m still too stunned to mind the fire.

  “Indeed,” he says, gently pulling down the hem of the gown without grazing my skin. “It took you too long to heal.”

  “Too long?” I ask in disbelief. He nods, anger flashes in his expression as he rises to his feet. Somehow I know is not directed to me.

  “There is a lot to discuss, but I believe you will want to dress and eat first.”

  He’s right. As desperate as I am to get some answers, I need some time alone to think.

  “You’ll find some clothes in the dresser,” he says as he walks towards the double doors. “Breakfast will be ready in twenty minutes.”

  * * *

  I intend to shower as fast as possible, but the warm water and lavender-scented shampoo are calming. The necklace feels right against my skin, soothing; I examine the stone, pretending I know anything about jewelry; the cut is beautiful—it looks like a star. After showering, I stand naked in front of the mirror, too concerned with the accelerated healing and not being entirely human to think about how much I hate doing that. The bruises have blurred even more, barely any purple remains, and the faint pain is nothing compared to the many injuries I have sustained in the past.