Creed (New Vampire Disorder Book 5)

by Marie Johnston

  “I’d really hate to kill you both.” And she could. Unless their illusion really got to her head, she’d win in a battle. These two had the air of being worthy opponents, but without a rage like hers that hovered just under every thought and feeling, they had too much of a disadvantage.

  “I’ve been under a rock for a while. Give me the nitty gritty on underworld politics and the who’s who of the realm.” Then she’d find Bita and prove herself.

  She was Meladonna the Hunter.

  Chapter Twelve

  Creed roamed the cavern he and Melody had departed the underworld from. Traces of her were everywhere. Spiny branches were withering in a spot near the center in the floor. Salted caramel with a hint of brimstone teased his olfactory receptors. She’d been here.

  Of course she had. She’d unknowingly claimed this space as hers and she’d always come back here until she learned to “steer during the trip” as Quution put it. But she’d spent more than a few minutes here.

  Quution touched a spot on the wall that had dust smoothed away from the surface. “She had a meeting with her second-tiers.” He prodded the area, then crossed to the vines at Creed’s feet. Crouching, he inspected the growth. “It didn’t dissolve into violence, more of a display of power.”

  Melody’s resolve to prove herself, if that was what she was really doing, hadn’t diminished—yet.

  “What would her next move be?” Finding her wouldn’t be the problem. Now that they were both in the same realm, he could follow her sweet smell through the maze of caverns with his eyes closed. His intuition would lead him to her. But he needed to be ready for what he’d find.

  Quution did one last energy sweep of the cave. “Secure herself a spot on the Circle.”

  Straight to the worst-case scenario. “Would that be possible? With the blend of demon and human, she looks too much like a second-tier.”

  “I heard a human phrase during one of my topside trips. Might makes right. At the time, I thought how appropriate. Perhaps I should make buttons with that phrase to hand out down here. Pure-blood demons have always had the advantage of size and viciousness. Yet they fail to see what’s evolving around them. Think about it in terms of dogs and horses. Purebreds have their own place, their own qualities that make their pure status desirable. Yet quarter horses are strong and sturdy, sought out for their intelligence and power. Mutts possess aspects of all their bloodlines. A shepherd cross would be inclined to herd, but if Rottweiler or pitbull was also in his genetic suitcase, they’ll come with incomparable loyalty and an admirable protective streak.”

  “You’re saying that Melody is essentially a mutt.”

  Quution lifted a shoulder in a shrug that evened out his shoulders for a moment. “More of a quarter horse. She’s strong. Has her own mind. Can she outrace a thoroughbred? Perhaps not, but her toolbox is filled with more resources. The Circle, except for me, is full of pure-blooded demons who’ve used nothing but might to attain and maintain their position. They’re going to underestimate her. We should hope they do; it’s a serious advantage for Melody.”

  Creed pinched the bridge of his nose. Melody wouldn’t need an advantage if he could find and talk her back down from her rage and resentment pedestal.

  This didn’t sound much different than his world. Prime vampires clambering to keep their position, but always thinking their birth makes them better than the rest. His parents would stoop to new levels to prove their dominance over others.

  He dropped his hand. “My first concern is finding her. We need to prepare for her being held captive, or worse.” He’d develop his own rage syndrome if she was hurt.

  Quution folded his hands in front him and leveled Creed with a stare. “We also need to prepare for her succeeding.”

  No. Creed couldn’t face the ramifications yet. Saving her from others was one thing, saving her from herself was a battle he wasn’t qualified to face.

  He stormed out of the cavern instead. The trail of caramel led to the right. Quution shuffled behind him.

  The male was dedicated to his purebred facade. His muscles had to scream from being cramped into misshapen proportions. Then there was the costume and prosthetics.

  Creed swept down the dirt-lined hallways, his boots crunching on the floor. Torches glimmered every fifty feet. Scratches and skittering resonated from the walls. They passed empty caverns, some that were inhabited and no one was home, some abandoned. Did demons move to larger, nicer caverns? Was there such a thing as location, location, location down here? Or did the tenants die and the cavern got claimed by the next squatter? He guessed which scenario was more likely.

  “Something’s going on,” Quution muttered.

  “Because we haven’t passed anyone.” The corridors were deserted. How much of a coincidence was it that Melody arrived down there and there was some drama drawing everyone to it?

  He sped up, blind to where he was going, just following her scent and his gut, his internal compass that always pointed to the female. He’d bet that after their bond was broken, he’d still be able to find her.

  A sharp pain that could’ve been real lanced his heart. He wasn’t afraid to admit that losing his bond with Melody unsettled him. He’d tried to remain immune to her, thinking there was no way they could be together, yet now they were—sort of. This bond out of necessity wasn’t fair to either of them.

  A dull roar reached his ears. Were there waterfalls in the underworld?

  A tidal wave of emotion hit him. Exhilaration. Focused intent. Enthralled jubilation. Like a plug had been obliterated and a geyser of passion flowed—good, bad, useful, it didn’t matter. It had found a release.

  A crest in the din hit. A crowd had formed and was cheering.

  Quution’s incredulous gaze swung to him. Creed listened closer. The closer they got, the clearer it got. They were chanting.

  “Me-la! Me-la!”

  It was all he could do not to break into a run. Was Mela his Melody? Or was Mela another demon who was killing Melody? Was Melody there at all? He and Quution jogged as stealthily as possible. Charging into the chaos was too irresponsible and dangerous, though it topped his want list at the moment.

  The number of torches lining the wall grew more frequent. The drone of the crowd separated into the chants, outright yelling, and cheers.

  Second-tiers charged out of side halls toward the cacophony.

  “Demon balls,” Quution swore. “We only get this type of turnout when we’re selecting a new member of the Circle.”

  Dread tickled its fingers up Creed’s spine. His involuntary shiver didn’t help. There were two requirements to ascend to the Circle. Be pure of blood and be the last demon standing. There were no votes, no promotions, only bloody, gory, deadly fights according to Fyra and Stryke. Melody couldn’t have been that brazen to pass herself off as a purebred and pick a fight.

  Could she?

  The crowd grew thick. Brimstone clogged his nose along with the stench of demon spirit. He and the others played hockey once in a while, even constructed a homemade rink some years to scrimmage. After a month, Creed could hardly stand himself. This was like being stuffed inside a hockey bag with equipment that hadn’t been cleaned for years and someone forgot ten books of matches inside.

  The throng of demons paid him no mind, their backs to him, their attention riveted on the drama at the center of the immense cavern.

  Quution raised to his full height to see over the crowd. He frowned and glanced back at Creed, doing a double take. “Undress now.”

  Creed didn’t have to ask why. Being a vampire in this group was a death sentence. But being clothed made him noticeable. Between the stench and the commotion, it’d be less obvious he was a foreigner.

  He ducked behind Quution and stripped down. Rolling all his weapons in his clothes, he handed them to Quution without hesitation. The demon stuffed them under his awkward clothing, but the underworld was used to his appearance. Quution must use his clothing as a show of his power. The lumps
and bumps blended in with the look as Quution hitched the bundle under his arm.

  They gave each other a nod and pushed through the crowd.

  Missing out on a hair trim turned out extremely fortuitous. As one of the few creatures without horns in the underworld, many might assume they were tucked into his hair. His personal scent would be lost in the mixture of yuck.

  Pressing through warm bodies, Creed’s mouth twisted in a grimace. The dry demons weren’t bad, some demons smeared sweat all over him, but a few here and there were unusually thick. He strongly suspected slime.

  “Are you readyyyyy?” A familiar female voice shouted.

  The crowd erupted. Creed craned his neck as high as it could go.

  Oh…hell.

  He spotted the horns first. They stood fully erect two feet above her head. Suddenly, their shade of purple was his favorite color. Under her sunny blond hair, her eyes glowed a fertile green. He shoved his way closer, leaving a trail of threats that died as soon as they noticed Quution right behind him. He should’ve let the male go first and zap everyone out of his way.

  Melody circled the perimeter of the clearing the demons gave her. Purebred demons lined the front with their gnarly bodies and ferocious looks. Some had fangs that dripped venom, others straight-out drooled. Horns were all sizes, ranging from nubs to Texan longhorn. Their naked bodies were lessons in demon anatomy. The purer the demon, the more mutated the appearance from the human form.

  Another demon prowled the clearing opposite Melody. Sparse black hair sprouted from the female’s scalp and she had two, three, four horns. The other four were like afterthoughts that poked out from bony ridges along her hairline. Huge, clawed feet thumped with each step.

  A male in the front row, a gargantuan demon with red horns protruding from his skull, hunched over until he was Melody’s height and spat a wad of lumpy black glop at his feet. “Rip her apart, Bita.”

  Melody was facing off with Bita? And that hag of a demon had possessed Grace’s delicate body?

  Why Bita? Why not fight for the open position? He could only guess, and it’d be based on her need to prove herself. Who better to do it with than a demon they all knew and reviled. Melody would not only demonstrate her capability, if she survived, but it’d be like a big “fuck you” to the rest of his team that had doubted her.

  The intense focus he felt? That was coming from Melody. He doubted she experienced any mood swings now. All her power was funneling into the show.

  Melody smiled. A wide, sinister, stunning smile. “Let me hear it second-tiers.” When had her voice taken on that much huskiness? “Who’s tired of getting bossed around?”

  A roar went up from the crowd.

  Melody pumped her fist in the air. She was also gloriously naked, with a body he hadn’t seen on her before. Sleek and built, striations of muscle showed under her pale satin skin. She could just as well be strutting around an Arnold Classic body-building competition. “Who’s tired of not being good enough?”

  Thunderous pounding and stomping answered her.

  This can’t be real.

  “I say—” she twirled around, pointing to the crowd, “—it’s time to get some half breeds on this Circle.”

  Bita chomped at the air. Her garbled voice shouted, “She’s human!”

  The crowd died down a few decibels. Terror crowded inside of Creed.

  That smile again. Mesmerizing. “And you’re all vampire! And demon! And probably shifter! Am I right?”

  They echoed her last word.

  “And you’re sick of purebred shit!”

  Hellfire, she knew how to whip the crowd into a smelly frenzy. The giant cavern throbbed with morbid excitement. Her plan could fail, but she had a chance, a real, legit chance, if the majority of second-tier demons backed her. If shit went south, they’d be so worked up about their dismal life in the underworld they’d revolt, and Melody could scurry to safety.

  But the Melody putting on a show worthy of a professional wrestler didn’t look like she’d run anywhere. She pulsed like she’d jump into the fray.

  Bita snarled and launched herself at Melody.

  There was a second of stunned silence as everyone in the chamber waited to see the outcome. Would one swipe of Bita’s veiny red claws be the end of Melody?

  Melody danced back. She’d embraced her superhuman reflexes. Ducking down, she kicked out, sweeping Bita’s feet out from under her. The demons erupted in cheers; the members of the Circle grumbled and edged the perimeter.

  Bita obviously wasn’t expecting much resistance. Taken off guard, she dropped and rolled. Melody jumped on her and pinned her. Bita lashed out with her claws, catching Melody’s delicate skin.

  Creed surged forward, but a band of steel wrapped around his elbow. He glared at the offending source.

  Quution. The male shook his head. “She must continue or her death will be cheered far and wide.” Quution leaned in. “The way she’s prompted an uprising? Brilliant.”

  Quution calmly walked forward. Those before him started and whipped around, only to see him and bow out of his way.

  Creed followed in his wake, the hairs on his arms standing on end from the energy Quution wielded.

  Shrieks and screeches emanated from the makeshift stage. Creed craned to see around Quution. The infuriating male stopped short of the clearing and sidestepped each time Creed tried to stand next to him. Creed rabbit punched him in the kidney. Quution just glowered at him and shook his head.

  Fine. Creed could grudgingly admit that it’d attract attention if he put himself on the same line as the Circle.

  Melody’s fine body was shredded. She propped a hand under Bita’s jaw to keep her from chomping a limb off, her claws embedded in Bita’s hairy cheeks. Bita wailed on Melody, tried to twist out from under her.

  Where had all that strength come from?

  Melody narrowed her eyes on the demon she wrestled. Her horns shone under the torchlight rimming the cave as they altered their points to aim at Bita.

  Bita’s oily black eyes flew wide. She struggled, she flailed.

  Melody’s intense focus didn’t waver.

  One of the Circle, a praying-mantis-type creature, shuffled forward. Creed tensed to interfere, but one of Melody’s horns swiveled back. The demon skulked back.

  “Well, that’s new,” Quution said under his breath. “Mantis likes her drama, but apparently not Melody’s poison.”

  That was some control Melody just displayed. Creed’s chest swelled with pride despite his dismay.

  She could control the power. But what about when she isn’t inciting a death match?

  The move was so fast, Creed couldn’t track it. A horn deftly swooped down to slice Bita’s flesh. Bita screamed, her already contorted face a mask of shock and terror.

  Melody didn’t smile or whoop in triumph. She curled her free hand into a fist, her claws clamping around her fingers to make it solid. Cocking back, she punched Bita in the face, lifted herself off, and whipped her around. Sinking her knees into Bita’s back, she wrenched back the female’s horns.

  Not once had she used her plant power. Creed stayed rooted in place on his own, didn’t even know if Melody knew he was here, or if she’d care.

  Where was the sweet woman who’d looked at him with adoration in her eyes? What part did he really miss? The sweet woman or the adoration? Because ferocious Melody was a sight to behold.

  “Should I show you the same mercy you showed my friend?” Melody hissed.

  Bita flashed her fangs, but dampened the effect by squeezing her black eyes shut.

  Melody rasped through clenched teeth. “Or should I let them ravage you like you do to them?”

  Bita snapped her teeth, red and gray tinged spittle spraying out. The ground bubbled where her spit landed.

  Creed’s gaze flew to Melody. Bita’s acid spit had to have hit her at some point in the scuffle.

  Sure enough, angry red patches dotted Melody’s skin on her chest and a few smaller on
es along her jaw. Getting fingers bitten off wasn’t the only reason she was holding Bita’s jaw shut.

  Bita drew in a ragged breath. “I will destroy you. I will hunt your family and I will eat every last one.” Her groan was followed by a disturbingly sensual sound. “When I get inside Grace again, I will use her body to destroy that runt you claim to adore.”

  Creed’s lungs froze. Would Melody throw her to the demons and let them have their way with her? He wanted Melody to survive a fight, more than that—to thrive. But needless cruelty, even toward a monster, was an action Melody would have to live with that rest of her life.

  Melody paused, as if indecision weighed on her. Bita capitalized on her lack of momentum and surged up.

  A vine snapped up from the ground, wrapped around the demon’s neck and tightened with a hard yank.

  Faster than her horn had lashed out, the vine garroted Bita and didn’t stop. It sliced through skin and, with a mighty twist, severed her spine.

  Bita’s body fell limp beneath Melody.

  Melody crouched over her, her eyes blazing with no trace of blue left, her chest heaving.

  This didn’t look like Melody. This looked very much like a creature who could wreak havoc in the underworld.

  A strangled cry of rage ripped through the room. “You will die!” A female, very similar in appearance to Bita, sprang up.

  Melody tilted her head and eyed her like a bug. Roots surfaced from around the female’s feet.

  A horde of oily black monsters appeared along with the roots. Creed frowned. Those weren’t from Melody. The other demon’s? He sensed Melody’s uncertainty.

  Melody’s gaze flicked away, then back. Who did she look at? Her mouth twisted in a grim smile and the vines wrapped around the small nightmare figures, then anchored them to the demoness. The vines continued to wrap the female like a mummy.

  “I get it. I killed your daughter. You try to sic your nightmare demons on me. Totally understand. But if we have to work together, you can’t try to kill me, or I will—” her upper lip curled, the demon went still, “—do the same to you as I did to Bita.”