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

by Selene Kallan

  “Nox?” Isir asks, voice trembling, no doubt feeling the reluctance, anger, and sheer terror battling inside me.

  “What’s wrong?” Bryce asks, standing.

  “Dinah’s been taken, I can’t trace her,” I swallow against the tightness in my throat. I look at Bryce. “Derek was murdered by Aaron. I’m sorry.”

  Isir lets out a sob, covering her mouth, eyes misting with tears. Bryce shakes his head and steps back, knocking the stool he was sitting on as the sheer force of his devastation explodes out of him in a hot, chaotic flare. Horns sprout from his forehead, his eyes lose all the white, now blazing like ice-blue flames, pupils vertical.

  “I’m sorry,” I repeat. I should’ve listened to him, I should have killed Aaron.

  Isir walks towards Bryce and wraps her arms around him, murmuring something low in his ear. He buries his face in her shoulder for a moment and then steps back.

  Her eyes are still full of tears as she turns to me. “Can’t you use your link to find Dinah? I sensed it in her, you’ve begun to bond.”

  I shake my head. “I tried, but they’re cloaking her.”

  The panic I’ve tried to bury breaks through. Something sharp moves inside my chest, stealing my breath. My pulse takes speed. If they’ve hurt her, if I can’t find her, what then?

  Kill them all, the darkest side of me demands.

  Isir grabs my shoulders and shakes me roughly. “Focus. Dinah will try to summon you, you know she will, so focus on her,” she demands. Her voice helps me come back to myself.

  “Dinah is a smart girl,” Bryce says, voice sounding hard and vacant, he’s controlled his shift, the horns have disappeared. “She has two computers. If someone were to steal one, she must have a way to trace it.”

  I’m portalling to Dinah’s room before the thought is fully formed. Her scent is strong in the messy sheets, entwined with mine. I swallow hard and locate one of her PCs plugged into the socket, sitting on one of the nightstands. I open it and it’s blocked, of course it is.

  Isir and Bryce enter the room.

  “It’s password-protected,” I say, sitting on the bed.

  “Fuck,” Isir hisses, pacing.

  Bryce stands still, looking pale, pulsing with heartbroken, enraged energy.

  I look at the blue device, the lock screen is a super-heroine wearing glasses and a red leather suit.

  “Knowing her, it’s an alphanumeric nightmare,” Isir says.

  An idea forms inside my mind. “What color is her other PC? Isn’t it red?”

  “Yes, why?” Bryce asks, brow furrowed.

  With slightly trembling fingers I type, hoping with all I have I’m right.

  BLU3P1LL

  The screen unlocks and I’m welcomed into a surprisingly normal-looking desk. It emulates the simplicity of OSX, but I’m certain it is her version of Linux. I force the panic down and look for something resembling a tracking app, Isir sits beside me, Bryce still stands on the same spot.

  “There!” Isir cries.

  I open the app and find the small red spot pulsing on a map. Widening it, I see it jump from one place to another and flicker somewhere around Maine.

  “The wards or whatever the fuck they’re using must have the tech going crazy,” Isir comments.

  “I’ll go and try to locate the magic,” I say, standing.

  Isir grabs my wrist. “No, you won’t. We will. Give us five minutes.”

  I want to argue, to say I don’t want them risking their lives, but I know I have no right. Isir loves Dinah, and Bryce deserves to find his revenge just as much as I need to find her.

  I nod.

  Both supernaturals disappear in a blink.

  I absentmindedly summon my usual fighting leathers and weapons; feeling little reassurance in having my black diamond and obsidian blade at my side. There could be several Nephilim behind this, maybe the same ones who are behind stealing her power. I can manage several of them at once, but should they damage my physical vessel before I can find her…

  I shake my head.

  They won’t be able to do it. Not if I unleash my full power.

  Murdering Nephilim is a dangerous thing to do. If their Asteri sires are looking after them—something that’s possible—the fight would be considerably different. Asteri are the only beings capable of fully destroying one of my kind, and they don’t particularly approve of my existence as it is. An abomination, the child of two renegades who their god would love to destroy.

  Whatever it takes.

  If my life, if war, is the price to pay for saving Dinah, then I’ll gladly pay it.

  I stand and walk towards the kitchen. Isir is there, dressed in her fighting leathers and strapping a modified Glock to her leg. A black diamond-quartz-alloy sword across her back and several more blades attached to her arms, hips, and legs. Her eyes are azure, the anger and desperation buzzing out of her an echo of my own.

  “We will find her, and we will save her,” Isir affirms, “and we will do everything we can to make sure the Asteri keep their noses away from this.”

  I swallow hard, desperately wanting to believe her. She takes my hand and I feel her rallying her power, shielding her mind and stretching the invisible vines of power that can consume the life-force of most living beings.

  It’s been ten minutes.

  The door opens and Bryce and Stefan come in. The redhead Lycan’s eyes are red-rimmed, blazing with anger, pupils crimson. Derek and he were like brothers, they’d both escaped as far away as they could manage from one of the most vampire-hating colonies across the country.

  Stefan is obviously ready for a fight too. “I’m coming with you,” he says with a rough voice.

  I nod, summoning the amethyst earpieces that function with magic—my magic. It will help us stay communicated even through human technology jamming devices. I hand them to my companions, who put them on without question.

  Bryce is still wearing jeans and a T-shirt, no weapon in sight, not that he needs one.

  “Ready?” I ask.

  The three of them nod. Wordlessly, they link hands, Isir and Bryce both take mine, their warmth reassuring despite the shattered emotions. The vortex of amethyst power encircles us all.

  For the first time in a long time, I wish I had someone to pray to.

  CHAPTER 24

  DINAH

  I’m painfully aware of all that has happened before I can register the sharp pain in my whole body. Once again, I examine my surroundings before opening my eyes. I’m alone, that much I can tell, I don’t know how my empathy is still working with the heavy bracelets containing my power, but there it is. I blink, even my eyelids hurt, my throat is parched and breathing causes little echoes of electric pain. The spell the bastard used is just as wicked if not worse than Kazzian’s. He’s powerful, more than I thought, more than he let on when he provoked Nox into breaking his neck.

  I wish I’d let Nox kill him. Derek would not be dead. I’d not be at risk of being cut open and used as a battery again. There is no doubt in my mind that is what they want. Why else would they block my power? And it can’t be a coincidence that the creepy doctor was feeling out the very place where the binding device was.

  Tears slip from my eyes, I don’t know what I’ll do. I’d rather die than being put through that again.

  I’m lying on the same bed I was before. Tall molded ceilings, soft sheets, no windows, cream walls. I roll, feeling nauseated, and sit on the edge of the bed.

  “Fuck, no.”

  My clothes have been removed. I’m wearing a soft, calf-long blue dress. My breathing speeds, the edges of my sight become blurry and I’m falling to the floor, fisting my hair and retching. Nothing comes out. My body shakes violently with the painful convulsions.

  What have they done?

  What have they done to me?

  Have they…

  No.

  No no no.

  My ears ring.

  I can’t breathe.

  I can’t think.


  I can’t breathe…

  “Hey!”

  I don’t recognize that voice; I don’t have the strength to fight.

  “Stop, everything’s okay,” I hear far away.

  My body goes limp.

  I’m still conscious.

  My sight blurs.

  My ears ring.

  There’s a cool glass pressed to my lips. I cough and splutter at first but then drink. I can see a pale female looming over me looking worried.

  Bone deep exhaustion settles inside me and I don’t protest as I’m helped to the edge of the bed. I let my eyes fall closed.

  Breathe, breathe. Says a deep, velvety voice in my head.

  His voice.

  Astherinox’s voice.

  Some instinctive part of me knows he knows I’m in danger.

  I know he won’t stop looking for me.

  I just need to hold on.

  I just need to be strong and wait for my friends to find me.

  “There, better? You still look half-alive. Maybe I should get you some soup, would you like that?”

  I open my eyes and warily look at the female sitting beside me on the edge of the bed. Her big blue eyes are worried; her heart-shaped face is framed by brown curls. She’s pretty and wearing a white dress that resembles the one I’m wearing. The only difference is hers is loose in her very pregnant figure.

  “Hello there, Dinah,” she says, delicate voice worried. “My name is Elle.”

  “You’re a Nephilim.” My voice is still scratchy, probably due to how much I screamed when that bastard tortured me.

  Elle blinks, uncertainty plain in her eyes. “I am, yes. Let me go get you some food.”

  She stands and walks towards the door, her steps graceful despite the slight limp.

  Dread curls in my gut, but I fight it down. I need to think. If I can’t fight, I need to think. Or at least I need to think until I can fight and win.

  I get a peek of a lavish room beyond the door, and a tall, coffee-skinned male guarding the door. A Nephilim, too. His ice-blue eyes meet mine with unhidden distaste.

  As soon as the door is closed, I lift the cumbersome skirt and check my leg. Intact, no traces of a scar, just as it has been since Alice’s surgery fully healed. I’d like to think I’d know if I were implanted with any disgusting devices again, but I can’t be sure. The dark bracelets are warm against my skin, I have the feeling they aren’t draining me but keeping all of my chaotic energy trapped.

  I call out a few unlocking spells to no avail, which I expected.

  My fingers shake as I gather the courage to check if I’m still wearing my cotton underwear. I am.

  And I can’t feel as if…

  It hasn’t happened.

  But it can.

  I roll my shoulders. There’s still faint pain in my whole body, but it’s cleared up enough. I’m sure I could take down Elle, but I draw the line with pregnant females.

  The guard—who I can tell isn’t happy to be anywhere near me—is a problem, so is Aaron. The doctor’s only advantage is the drugs, Nephilim, or not, he’s not a match for me even right now. But what if there are more?

  My empathy’s range has been thwarted and I can’t tell how many more there are.

  There is a door across from the bed.

  I get up, slightly dizzy, and make my way towards it, relieved to find a bathroom.

  It’s nothing like my bathroom back at the penthouse, instead of sleek and modern it looks too decorated. A gold-framed mirror, classic tub, and double sink with gold faucets.

  I take care of my needs and wash my hands, forcing downdowndown the panic and focusing, thinking about playing along or fighting.

  My reflection is pale, the nice tan I’d gotten from the days at the beach gone. My pupils are dilated and my lips have no color. I look numb instead of terrified, which I decide is good.

  My breathing hastens, and I lean my head against the cool ceramic of the sink. I’m shaking again.

  In through the nose, out through the mouth.

  I don’t know how long it takes me to get some semblance of control.

  It leaves me drained.

  I open the door and step out of the bathroom, back straight.

  Elle is waiting for me, sitting by a small table with two chairs near the wall opposite the door.

  I hadn’t noticed it before. It’s made of iron and glass.

  A tray with two bowls of admittedly delicious-smelling soup, crumby bread, and two glasses of lemonade sits on the table.

  “Please,” Elle says with a smile.

  I sit opposite her and take a bowl, drinking directly from the hot ceramic. Elle’s delicate features tighten in disapproval.

  My stomach is still a bit delicate, but I’m hungry and I need all the strength I can muster. Besides, retching with an empty gut is no fun. A corner of my mind is chanting the well-known summoning spell. It helps me feel a bit more grounded.

  “I assume it was you who changed my clothes?” I ask, after downing half the soup.

  Elle carefully takes a spoonful of soup. “Yes, your garments were bloodied.”

  I shrug, feigning nonchalance as I wolf down a piece of bread. “Tends to happen when a fucker breaks a giant mirror with you.”

  She flinches and I want to laugh.

  Not fond of cursing, huh?

  I remember grandma’s often imaginative cursing in both Polish and English with a pang of satisfaction and grief. Most people assume that if you’re raised by your grandma, then you must have impeccable etiquette and never say a foul word. How I love to disappoint those deluded people.

  “Aaron regrets being forced to hurt you, he’s usually very kind,” Elle says, and she actually believes it.

  I laugh ruefully. “Forced to hurt me, huh? Are you saying I provoked him? And this is the second time he’s caused me pain. I can assure you, he is far from kind.”

  Elle’s jaw tightens. She stops eating. I don’t bother asking for her permission as I take her bowl and gulp down her soup too in record time, then I grab all the bread. Her eyes sparkle with irritation now.

  “From what I’ve heard, you are friends with demons. A succubus and a demon Prince,” Elle states, the disgust plain in the curve of her lips. “They have lied to you and convinced you we are the enemy. If you listen, you will know we are only trying to help you.”

  “They’ve saved my life, taught me how to fight, given me a safe home and friendship,” I counter, forcing myself to look nonchalant as I gulp down half a glass of lemonade. “It was Nephilim who took my power, who killed a friend and tortured me. So, you see, I don’t give a fuck about what you have to say.”

  She clenches her teeth. It is incredibly amusing to rile her up. If I am to be miserable, then she will be too.

  “You don’t understand.” Her voice shakes a bit. “Your power was siphoned for your own sake, and the friend you talk about was a lycan, his kind is just as polluted as demons.” She leans forward, “did you know they eat humans? Just like vampires do. All of them, savages and deviant.”

  I lean forward too. “Did you know that almost all lycans only feed on herbivores and feel repulsed by the idea of eating humans? Did you know most vampires don’t kill when feeding and about 96% of the kills are human predators?”

  She shakes her head adamantly and pulls back; I do the same. Isir and Nox have been sharing facts and lore with me; I also have eyes. Most of the nights after finishing the mind-shielding lessons, I’ve observed the different species interacting in Qetesh.

  “This—this is what happens when you befriend a demon,” Elle says, gesturing towards me disdainfully.

  I chuckle, feeling sharp satisfaction as I say, “the demon prince is not my friend, he’s my boyfriend.”

  The absolute look of horror on her face is worth the bluff. I’m sure Nox and I are more than friends, but that is a bit of a stretch.

  She draws back in her chair. “How could you? It’s wrong! You are a celestial creature meant to des
troy his kind! Not… not—”

  “Have sex with them?” I supply with faux innocence.

  Elle’s eyes go wide and she looks as if she’s going to be sick. After a minute, she reins in her disgust and anger with more control than I gave her credit for.

  “I am here to show you your options, to help you see the truth, not to fight with you,” she says, seem like she’s trying to convince herself of it too. “I’m here to show you what you’ll give up if you decide to continue down this path.”

  “Oh, and what is that? What exactly could be worth having my power taken away from me and being in constant pain?” I clench my fists. Anger and terror bubbling up.

  She pointedly caresses her round belly, her eyes softening slightly. “Bringing life into this world.”

  I blink.

  Elle presses on. “Nephilim females are rare, very few are born in a century. And we become infertile when we are around twenty-years-old. The immortal power of our sires robs us of the opportunity of bearing a child,” she looks deeply sad when saying this. “The binding devices leak that immortal energy, just enough to grant us a change of giving life for a limited time. A child conceived by two Nephilim is immensely powerful, almost as much as an Angel. And if an Angel decides to honor us by conceiving a child with us…” her eyes fill with tears. “There is no greater joy, knowing you’ve given birth to a celestial being, a guardian of mankind.”

  I can do nothing but watch the sheer happiness in her teary eyes as she looks down at her belly and caresses it.

  “Tell me, had they told you this? That if you let your full power be unleashed you’d become irreversibly infertile?”

  Isir had. Sort of. “All Nephilim females are infertile, just like Asteri females” she’d said. I wonder if Alice or Nox had any idea of this potential side effect of the device.