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

by Selene Kallan

  I swallow hard, feeling parched.

  Nox summons a bottle of cool water. I sit up a bit, allowing him to position us against the headboard as I drink half the bottle. I yawn and stretch, taking advantage of the movement to put one of my arms around his shoulders, he keeps his around my waist.

  I smile, noticing he’s wearing his usual black jeans and T-shirt, no shoes.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen your bare feet before,” I comment.

  He snorts. “Don’t tell me you have a foot fetish.”

  I chuckle. “Gods no, they are pretty, though.”

  He arches a brow; I flush a bit, lowering my eyes to examine what I’m wearing. Gray yoga pants and an oversize white tee that I didn’t put on myself.

  After blowing up the mansion, Nox had portalled us back to the penthouse’s living room. Isir had gone to her room after hugging me. Bryce and Stefan had both left after exchanging a nod and a ‘see you later’. I’d leaned against Nox’s chest and said I was tired. I vaguely remember the cool sensation of his energy wrapping around me, getting rid of the fighting leathers and the dried blood. The feel of cool cotton against my skin.

  “Stay,” I had said as he sat me on the bed. He kissed my brow and then there was warmth, and comfiness.

  I sigh leaning against him again; he lays his chin on the top of my head and does the same.

  “Did I really fight alongside a dragon and met an Asteri… how long ago?” I ask.

  “You did,” he confirms, “it was fifteen hours and twenty-five minutes ago.”

  I bite my lip, feeling an echo of dread blossom inside my chest. “What if this is a dream? What if I’m hallucinating while I’m being cut open and implanted…”

  My throat closes, it’s hard to get air inside my lungs.

  Nox’s arms wrap around me and I’m laying on top of him, feeling his heart beating against mine, his warmth seeping through the thin layers of clothes. “Breathe, Dinah. You’re safe, you’re with me, this is real,” he urges.

  I swallow, holding onto him, placing my cheek against his heart, and matching my breathing to his. Nox gently caresses my back and repeats to me that I am awake and this is reality. It takes a few minutes for the panic to dissipate.

  As usual, I feel tired once I regain control.

  “We need to find that doctor, we need to stop him from doing this to others,” I say.

  “We will,” he vows.

  I shudder. “I still can’t believe they thought they had the right to steal a part of myself so I could make babies for them.”

  Nox growls, the vibrations feel wonderful against my body. “Me neither. This is not something I was familiar with. I believed all female Nephilim were infertile and there was nothing to be done about it. Their eagerness to grow their numbers has turned into something repugnant.”

  I shiver. “They called it having an option. Being mutilated can never be considered an option.”

  He keeps caressing my spine. “Indeed.”

  An insidious thought forms, but I don’t dare ask. I’m done with comparing species. People are just people, some wicked, and some not.

  “Nox females are not infertile,” he explains, and I cringe inwardly. Of course, I relaxed my mind enough for him to read me. “Their fertility is very sporadic and they can’t reproduce with anyone they don’t find worthy. If a male tries to force a female or vice versa… Well, there is virtually no difference in strength and power, so you can imagine the sort of fight it would ensue. There have been cases, of course, but swift and brutal revenge is enacted by the family of the person harmed. Or they avenge themselves.”

  I groan, “remind me again why you guys are the demons.”

  Nox chuckles. “We reap souls, some enjoy needling humans to fall deeper into depravity. Our power comes from the dark energy core of the universe. We are… what was it you said? Goth and metal?”

  I snort, placing my hands under my chin to look at him, drinking in the humor in his eyes. “Right, there’s that.”

  “There is much to think on, and discuss, but perhaps you’d like to take some time to recover? Being a couch potato or visiting the beach again, maybe? Spencer and Xander are still at Isir’s island.”

  I grin with the consideration and concern in his voice. How did that happen? We were screaming at each other mere weeks ago.

  “I’m sure we’ll find plenty of reasons to scream at each other sometime soon,” he says with a smile, “but I’ve given up on trying to stop this, us, from happening. What do you think?” my heart thumps with approval at the expectation in his eyes.

  I smile. “I think it’s very rude of you to listen to my thoughts.”

  He shrugs. “You keep shouting them at me.”

  I swat his arm playfully. “I think I’d like to call you my boyfriend if you’re okay with that.”

  My cheeks burn as I say it, afraid of sounding childish and stupid.

  He smiles softly, caressing my cheek. “I’m more than okay with that.”

  I sigh again, reluctant to move, but my grumbling stomach has other plans.

  “I’ll cook something for you,” he says, gently sitting us both up.

  I lean closer and press a kiss against his cheek. “Thanks, I’d like a shower first, even though I’m clean.”

  Nox stands, his hand around mine. “How about a bath?”

  I wrinkle my nose. “That tub is monstrous.”

  He lifts a brow, amused. “That’s the point.”

  “All that water…”

  He rolls his eyes. “This is the most efficient building in New York. Water is recycled, and it runs on a small cold fusion reactor.”

  A cold fusion reactor, like the one in Bryce’s car.

  He chuckles. “Would that do?”

  I nod. Nox winks and walks to the bathroom.

  I lean against the doorframe and yawn, admiring his perfect body as he half sits on the edge of the tub and pours oils and bubbles. The water fills the bath with surprising speed thanks to the four copper faucets.

  “Are you going to carry me and put me in the tub too?” I tease. He looks at me over his shoulder through a curtain of dark hair, then rises and stalks towards me with enviable grace.

  I gulp, feeling my legs unstable as he leans over and whispers right next to my ear: “If you want me to.” He inhales my scent and lets out a small sound of satisfaction.

  Oh, gods.

  “I-I think I’ll manage this time,” I murmur.

  He straightens and smirks, leaving me alone to bathe.

  I close the door and get rid of the clothes, tossing them to the basket under the sinks. With a determined sigh, I look at my reflection. There are no visible wounds, the slash Aaron gave me healed while I fought him, but there’s no trace of a scar. My skin looks pale but not in that unnatural, ashen way it does when my power is forcefully drained. I’m slightly flushed and my eyes are too bright, which I was expecting. I smile, walking to the tub and groaning with pleasure at the feel of warm water on my skin. The smell of lavender, chamomile, oranges, and honey envelop me as I sink fully. The tub is huge, big enough for me to fit from head to toe, and deep too.

  Nox would totally fit in here with me.

  A flash of heat blossoms in my chest and travels low.

  Soon, I promise myself.

  * * *

  I reluctantly leave the still warm water and dry with a fluffy white towel. The marble tub has a heating system that keeps the water temperature perfect. It is truly a wonder. I get in my favorite attire of yoga pants and an oversize, comfy sweater. A wonderful aroma hits my nose and I groan, opening the door and walking to the kitchen. I halt with the surrealness of the moment.

  Never in my life, I thought I’d see Nox pouring me a huge bowl of the most delicious-looking chicken dumpling soup.

  I bite my lip, suffused with warmth and the echo of grief, remembering that night when I summoned him. Broken-hearted, lost and so drunk. His eyes meet mine and I smile.

  “Who�
�d know cooking could be that sexy?” I tease, braving the slight blush as he gives me a sardonic smile.

  “Everyone does,” he says, pointing at my usual place, sitting by the island.

  I sit on the stool and inhale the warm steam, humming contentedly then taking the spoon and tasting.

  A soft moan escapes me. “Oh gods, I’m having a second bowl, maybe a third.”

  Nox chuckles, amethyst eyes bright with appreciation. “There’s a whole pot, enjoy.”

  “Thank you,” I say, with the intensity of all the things I have to thank him for.

  He gives me a lopsided smile and leans to put a humid lock of hair behind my ear. “You are very welcome.”

  I smile, focusing on the food and failing at eating like a civilized person. Nox pours a glass of delicious red wine for both and sits beside me after pouring me a second bowl.

  “Where is Isir?” I ask between mouthfuls.

  He takes a sip of wine. “In her room, trying to give us privacy.”

  “But she must be hungry too.”

  Nox smirks. “Isir, you can stop listening to us and come have soup,” his voice rises just a bit, but I know it’s enough.

  I chew on a yummy dumpling as Isir enters the kitchen. She’s wearing a big T-shirt, her long legs are bare, with no shoes. Her hair is loose and elegantly mused around her frame. She’s buzzing with a more intense aura of power than usual.

  “Gods, that smells heavenly,” she says, yawning.

  Nox gets up and goes behind the counter to pour a glass of wine and a bowl of soup for Isir, who sits beside me, leaning her chin on my shoulder. I smile and lean my head against hers for a moment.

  “How are you feeling?” we ask at the same time.

  We both chuckle. Isir receives her plate and inhales deeply. Nox sits on my other side, reclaiming his wine glass and covertly examining us both.

  Isir’s eyes widen when she eats a spoonful, groaning softly. “That’s it, you’re making chicken soup at least once a week from now on,” she says.

  “I second that motion,” I agree.

  Nox snorts. “Any other demands, ladies?”

  Isir taps her chin with one finger. “Well, since you were so kind as to ask…”

  I giggle with the mock scowl Nox gives her.

  Isir looks at me appealingly. I sigh, drinking some wine before responding.

  “I’m, well, I’m still processing,” I admit. “There’s a lot to think about and do but I believe we’ve earned ourselves a reprieve.”

  Isir nods, humming as she swallows. “Yeah, there are some Nephilim out there who need to get their arses kicked,” she smiles wickedly, “and I’ll be more than happy to assist. It’s been a long time since I’ve enjoyed sucking the life out of someone and hear them scream so much.”

  I gulp. Isir’s smile grows.

  “Right, that’s, erm, appreciated?” I mutter.

  Both Nox and Isir chuckle mischievously.

  I finish my soup in silence, full and warm but unable not to feel a pang of discomfort in my stomach.

  “How are Bryce and Stefan?” my voice is low.

  Nox holds my hand. “Better now that Derek has been avenged.”

  Isir sighs. “Death is never easy, you’d think it gets easier to lose someone after a few times, but it doesn’t.”

  “I can’t help but feeling it’s my fault,” I say, my voice breaks.

  Isir fully turns towards me, Nox squeezes my hand.

  “It wasn’t your fault, Dinah,” Isir says. “I get how you feel, believe me, I do. What if I’d gone with you? Would I have been able to feel him in time to stop the killing blow? And Bryce?” she shakes her head and takes my other hand. “It is no one’s fault but that of the murderer, and he’s paid for it.”

  I fight down the tears, guilt coiling inside me. “I saw Aaron a week ago,” I confess.

  Both stay preternaturally still, I look up. “When Bryce took me to dine with Spence and Xander. He gave me the usual bullshit speech about being surrounded by demons and about not knowing I was going to lose something precious,” I clench my teeth. “He gave me a card with a number, I burned it, I wasn’t interested. But… I can’t help but wonder that if I’d told you, then maybe I could have prevented Derek’s death.”

  The tears flow freely now, Nox lets go of my hand and I battle down panic for the second it takes him to cradle my face in his hands and wipe my tears. “Wondering ‘what if’ will only drive you insane,” he advises, letting me go to smooth a hand down my spine. “It would have changed nothing, the number was most likely a burner phone. We wouldn’t have been able to trace him, and the outcome would have been the same.”

  Isir squeezes my hand. “He’s right.”

  I nod, still uncertain, but despite all I’ve slept, tired.

  “Now, you still need some rest,” Isir says, standing. “I must go to work.”

  “Be safe,” I say.

  Isir rolls her eyes but leans to kiss my cheek. “Yes, mother.”

  I smile faintly, watching her leave, a huge yawn makes my eyes watery.

  “I don’t get it, I slept for 15 hours,” I grumble.

  Nox squeezes my shoulder and gets up, picking up the bowls and glasses.

  “You exhausted your reservoirs of power again,” he explains as he fills the dishwasher. “And you have not reached your full potential.”

  I sigh. “I’ve gotta learn to fly, materialize and summon stuff, and portal. By the way, where can I get my shiny armor?”

  Nox smirks. “You will learn all those things. Maybe we can pay a visit to Dhanika soon, she will be delighted to provide you with shiny armor, I’m sure.”

  I smile. “This time we will do sightseeing.”

  Nox smiles. “Most definitely.”

  I yawn again.

  Nox walks towards me, taking my hand. “But for now, more rest. Would you like me to portal you somewhere sunny?”

  I wrinkle my nose. “I’d prefer getting into bed again.”

  He gently pulls me so I stand. “As you wish.”

  I chuckle. “You know I could get used to you being so chivalrous.”

  He smirks. “I’m afraid you have no other option.”

  I grin. “Oh, how I must suffer.”

  He wraps an arm around my waist and leads me to my room.

  NOX

  Being Dinah’s pillow is becoming the best part of my existence.

  I idly wonder where such affectionate thoughts and feelings are coming from.

  My previous relationships have been abysmally different. Affection wasn’t exactly on the menu.

  The intensity of the protective impulses is stronger, much more than they were with—

  I cut that line of thinking.

  She doesn’t belong here.

  I glance at Dinah, her breathing is deep, she’s at ease. I keep the low hum of my power wrapped tightly around her, making sure she enjoys a nightmare free sleep.

  It is essentially the opposite of what I normally do when reaping a soul. Something I learned to do when Isir’s trauma was fresh. When she woke up screaming from nightmares that unleashed her power in such a way it would have killed any humans in a one-mile radius.

  I sigh, drinking in the oranges-chamomile-lavender-sunlight scent of the warm Nephilim half-draped on top of me. Part of me is still awed that this… connection between us formed despite everything. Despite my distrust and stupidity, despite her stubbornness and fear.

  I caress her spine, she hums and tightens her arm across my stomach. Truth is, I was more afraid than she was. I refuse to think about the reasons why.

  There’s plenty more to consider, anyway.

  Like why Dinah’s power melds with mine so well instead of clashing, canceling out each other. There’s the truth of my origin, of the half of me that doesn’t belong to the darkness, but my energy has always been at the very best neutral. My power is still opposite to other Nephilim. The blond warrior is proof of that, but it is different somehow with Din
ah.

  My essence has not changed, that much I know, but what then?

  The answer arrives in a flicker of a memory, a story told with derision by my mother.

  I freeze.

  If such a thing is happening… I have to warn Dinah before it’s too late.

  I close my eyes, examining her energy core and mine, hoping I’m wrong and wishing I’m not at the same time. My energy travels the full length of my spine, spreading to my physical vessel and beyond in ripples of contained power. The better part of it is buried under layers of self-restraint and pushed into an interdimensional pocket no one but I can reach. I tapped into it yesterday when I thought I’d have to fight an Asteri to protect my friends, but still, it wasn’t a full descent into what feels like an endless pit.

  I detest going there. Even after knowing what it feels like to lose access, I can’t bring myself to wield it without motive. It changes my perception somewhat; it makes me feel more pleasure in reaping souls; it makes me want to aim higher and claim immortal souls.

  I swallow, focusing on the soft breathing against my collarbone and the warmth of the energy core pressed against my side. I blink, seeing the golden-orange intensity of Dinah’s aura bathing mine, twinning with my silver and amethyst energy. Gently, I send a vine of my power and poke her core. Dinah lets out a soft groan, still deep asleep. I swallow back a gasp.

  Her chaotic soul-light blazes like a small sun, lurching for my power, the intensity of both of our auras doubles. I can usually feel Nephilim power cores and know I can tear them apart if I so wish. While I am aware of every thread and flame that lives inside her, I know I could never hurt her. My very soul would first self-destruct rather than doing that.

  Also, her power is impressive.

  I have a strong feeling she will be one of the most powerful Nephilim in existence. She sends a sliver of her energy into my chest; it coils around my spine and assimilates into my system. I shiver, feeling part of that ancient hunger and pain soothing, warming me.

  I pull back the thread of my power.

  Not until she decides if that’s what she wants. I won’t take her energy without her knowing exactly what she’s getting into.

  “Tall, dark, and grumpy,” Dinah mutters.