The Slayer

by Brenda Huber

  Okay, wow. This was seriously going to mess with her head.

  “Um, thanks?” She set the glass aside and watched Sebastian, who flipped his hands up in a wasn’t-me kind of way before pointing a finger at Xander.

  “How—”

  “Later.”

  Really? Things were popping up right and left, clothing appearing on all of them from out of no-freakin’-where. And he thought later was gonna cut it?

  “Ah, no. Now.”

  Sebastian’s eyebrows shot to his hairline. A long, slow grin spread across his mouth, and a deep belly laugh rumbled up, spilling out.

  Xander expressionless face slowly turned her way.

  “Don’t look at me like that,” she snapped, causing Sebastian’s laughter to intensify into hearty guffaws. Glancing over at him in irritation, she crossed her arms defensively. “My apartment—my business—is gone. Everything I own has probably burned to the ground by now. Rubble. Creatures the likes of which Steven Spielberg couldn’t dream up poured into my burning storeroom like cockroaches…several of which, I might add, simultaneously blew up for no apparent reason, exploding blood and guts all over the place.”

  That last bit caused Sebastian’s laughter to choke off. His alarmed gaze shot to Xander, who remained strangely silent at her side.

  That was just fine with her. She wasn’t through yet.

  “I trusted you when you told me to, and I let you shimmer me here. Which, for a human, I’d like to point out to you, feels like falling off a damned cliff. And now stuff just keeps appearing”—she jabbed a finger at the water glass—“and starting with no one’s help”—she gestured toward the fireplace—“and you think I’m gonna settle for later? Think again, buddy. So, one more time. How?”

  “It is called conjuring,” Xander explained, his fingers brushing a loose strand of her hair back, tucking it gently behind her ear. “It works much like shimmering, but instead of transporting myself to a location, the object comes to me.”

  Sebastian was now gawking at Xander. She ignored him, focusing on Xander. “How long have you been able to do this conjuring?”

  Frowning, he replied matter-of-factly, “Always.”

  Anger rose up, choking her. He’d had these powers and said nothing to her? She twisted in her seat to face him, glaring. “So yesterday, when I had to call Summer to get clothes for you, when she came over—” She broke off, heat scorching her cheeks as she remembered the box of condoms. “You could have just conjured them for yourself?”

  “Wait…what was that? Why did you need clothing?” This from a grinning Sebastian, who seemed to be hanging on every word.

  Perhaps she should have waited until later.

  Xander shot him a quelling look, but he addressed Kyanna. “I was unable to use my powers at the time.”

  She arched a brow, elevated her chin, and tilted her head. She was going to need a much better explanation than that.

  Growling deep in his chest, Xander focused on her, blatantly ignoring Sebastian as well. “The enchantments you used on your building are far more powerful than any I’ve ever encountered. Something about them”—he shook his head, shrugged—“locked up my powers. Bound them. I couldn’t shimmer. Couldn’t conjure. Nothing.”

  Xander cleared his throat and grimaced. He reached for her unfinished glass of water and downed the rest. Leaning back, he dropped his arm around her once more.

  “Oh.” Satisfied with his more detailed response, and the fact that he hadn’t deliberately embarrassed her, she relaxed. Kyanna glanced up in time to see Sebastian gawking at Xander again. Like Sebastian no longer recognized him. Nibbling her lip, she watched Sebastian a little more closely as he watched Xander.

  What was it about Xander’s attitude—or was it his willingness to explain things to her in detail—that caused Sebastian to stare in blatant disbelief?

  Stirring himself, Sebastian leaned forward, braced his elbows on his knees. “What about your gift?”

  The way he’d said gift—the tone he’d used—sounded more like he meant curse.

  “Still worked. Only thing that did.” Xander ran a hand over his hair, shaking plaster dust loose.

  “I wonder why?”

  Xander tossed a shoulder in response.

  “Gift?” Turning beneath his arm, she scowled. “What gift?”

  “When we fell from Heaven, each of us lost our wings. As well as the one thing we were most prideful of.” Xander stared at the fire. “As compensation, Lucifer gifted us—those who were the most powerful of our species—with positions high in his army, and a specialized power.”

  “What did you lose?”

  “My voice,” he replied simply.

  When he said no more, Sebastian took over the tale. “Xander’s voice was mesmerizing. He had but to speak, and those about him would fall under a trance, doing his bidding without thought. Without resistance, whether they wanted to or not. When he sang?” Sebastian shuddered, leaning back in his seat. “No angel in Heaven could compare. And so, when his wings were taken, the others—Gabriel, Michael, Seth and the rest—they all took great pleasure in destroying his voice too.”

  Filled with horror and sympathy, Kyanna impulsively laid her hand upon his thigh and gently squeezed, offering what meager comfort she could. Xander remained silent, expression completely blank. But the muscles in his thigh slowly turned to granite beneath her hand. His gaze slowly dropped to where her hand rested upon him, then just as slowly rose to pin her.

  Kyanna forced a swallow. But somehow she managed to work a little steel into her spine and she left her hand right where it was. For one slim moment, she tried to convince herself this was just one more social lesson she was trying to teach Xander, accustoming him to a compassionate touch.

  Oh, who am I trying to fool?

  She probably needed the contact more than he did. While the involuntary, initial touch may have been unplanned, she quickly became fascinated by the heat radiating through his jeans, and the sheer strength of his muscles.

  Marshalling her thoughts, she scrambled to remember what they had been talking about. “What did you gain in return for following Lucifer?” She searched his face for his little tells. She couldn’t find them. And that, more than anything, disturbed her the most.

  “I can detect when someone tells a lie. My flesh feels as if a million insects swarm over me.”

  Grimacing on his behalf, she turned to Sebastian. “Do you mind if I ask what your loss was? What your gift is? Or the gifts of the others?”

  “I won’t speak for the others,” Sebastian stated, polite but firm. “But as for me, my pride was my gift of listening.”

  Kyanna cocked her head, frowning. He lost his hearing?

  “No, I see I’ve confused you. My hearing is fine. I lost my gift of listening to others’ hearts. Of understanding their deepest wishes and desires. You see, just by being within a certain distance of someone, I could sense their most treasured dreams. In return I was gifted with my wings.”

  “Yours weren’t taken from you? Gabriel and the others didn’t—”

  “Oh no. They ripped my heavenly wings from me. Laughed the whole time, bloody bastards.” His eyes flickered black, just for a split second. Long enough for Kyanna to suck in a sharp breath. “I was given a new set of wings. The wings of Vengeance.”

  Was it too much to hope? “Figurative wings?”

  “Literal wings. I am the Demon of Vengeance, after all.” He grinned as she stared at him, baffled. He had no wings that she could see. “They only come out when I’m in demonic form,” he explained. “They’re quite impressive, if I do say so myself.”

  At that, Xander snorted. She glanced at him, lifting her brows. Pokerfaced, Xander lifted his hand, his thumb and forefinger measuring the span of an inch.

  Her gaze flew to Sebastian. But he hadn’t seemed to take offense
. Instead, he offered a sympathetic smile. “You’ll have to excuse him. Envy, you know.”

  Xander’s eyes slowly narrowed. He popped his jaw.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Sebastian settled back in the cushions, making himself comfortable. “So, you wanna tell me why you interrupted my beauty sleep?”

  “Gather the others.”

  Sebastian arched his brow at the imperious command.

  “Please,” Kyanna prompted, crossing her arms. The man could try the patience of a saint. “Honestly, it’s one little word. Why do you have such an aversion to using it?”

  Xander gave her his patented deadpan stare.

  She glowered right back.

  Sebastian, having witnessed the byplay, burst out laughing. Without another comment, he rose, drew a slim cell phone from his back pocket, and returned to the kitchen.

  “Why didn’t you tell me about your lie radar?”

  Xander grunted.

  Before she could ask any more questions, one of the fiercest beings she’d ever seen shimmered into the room near the fireplace. Clad head to toe in black leather, head shaved completely bald, he instantly filled the room with menace. Tattoos similar to Xander’s stretched up the side of his neck, what she could see of it above his collar. He had a strong jaw, cleanly shaven, but a good portion of his face was heavily scarred. His eyes were pale green, and flat. As if nothing in life held any interest anymore.

  “Mikhail,” Xander greeted him.

  Mikhail nodded. He glanced to Kyanna, and for one uncomfortable moment, she felt as if he were examining her soul beneath a microscope. Dissecting every decision she’d ever made, judging the depth of every sin. At length, he released her from his hypnotic stare and claimed Sebastian’s vacated seat, letting out a deep breath. Kyanna nudged Xander.

  “Mikhail, Kyanna. Kyanna, Mikhail, the Demon of War.” His duty done, a sullen Xander fell silent.

  Mikhail dipped his head on an abbreviated nod, then returned to studying the fire, one calloused finger tap-tapping on the arm of his chair.

  Wow. And she’d thought Xander grim and uncommunicative.

  Wait. Demon of War?

  Why did that sound familiar? Hadn’t there been something about him in the book? The urge to grab the book up and scour its pages for mention of the Demon of War burned through her. Later, she cautioned herself. Uneasy, she clasped her hands in her lap and stared at the fire too. An ominous sense of recognition tickled at her subconscious.

  A few moments later, another demon shimmered into the room. He didn’t appear nearly as fierce as Mikhail. His gaze immediately landed upon her. Only the phantom of curiosity reflected in his golden stare before he scanned the rest of the occupants.

  She hadn’t even been surprised by the unexpected appearance this time. Proud of herself, she offered him a tentative smile. The shadow of a roguish grin flitted across his mouth, gone in a wink of time. His hair was longish, tawny-gold, and curling wildly about his head, as if the only styling instrument that had touched it recently were his long, slim fingers.

  His amber eyes held a striking intelligence that was impossible to miss, as were the deep bruises just beneath them. He looked as if he hadn’t had a decent moments rest in too long to be healthy. His jaw sported several days’ growth of whisker stubble, but it only drew attention to the perfect allure of his lips. His skin was sun-kissed, though his cheeks appeared a bit gaunt. His clothing was rumpled, his hair disheveled. He looked as if he’d exhausted himself in some woman’s bed.

  Lucky woman.

  He inclined his head to her. “Ma’am.” And then he dropped carelessly onto the loveseat.

  “Hi,” she replied, giving Xander an elbow when he offered no introductions.

  A heavy sigh stirred the hair at her temple. Matted, smoke scented hair reminded her how badly she needed a shower. Dried sweat made her skin tight and sticky. And, thanks to the roaring blaze Sebastian had mysteriously kindled in the fireplace and the clothing in which Xander had dressed her, she was fast becoming unbearably hot. She pushed her sleeves up.

  “Gideon, Kyanna. Kyanna, Gideon, the Demon of Temptation.”

  “Former. Former Demon of Temptation,” he drawled absently, as if he’d repeated this fact so often he was losing hope anyone was actually paying attention. His voice caressed the senses. Husky sensuality thick with a Virginia gentleman’s accent.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Gideon.”

  “Niklas will be here soon,” Sebastian said as he returned to the room. The sofa bounced a bit as he dropped beside Xander. “So, Kyanna. How’d a little thing like you become a Guardian?”

  Gideon’s attention snapped back to her, pinning her to the spot. Mikhail’s head didn’t move, but his pale green eyes tracked to her as well. So apparently Sebastian hadn’t told them everything. Talk about being dropped in the spotlight. She fought the urge to glance down at herself, just to make certain she wasn’t sitting there in nothing but her underwear. All things considered, it wouldn’t be completely out of the realm of possibility.

  The air near the fireplace distorted before she could respond. Kyanna glanced up and immediately plastered herself to Xander’s side. After the monsters she’d faced in her storeroom, the urge to scream was nearly more than she could control. A demon truly had arrived. A massive beast with black horns, vicious fangs, and jet black skin. Strange red runes glowed upon his flesh. His thighs were thick, his arms massive.

  Xander patted his hand on her shoulder twice. “Niklas,” he said quietly.

  A moment after he solidified, the demon transformed into a man. Shoulder length dark hair curled at his nape. His jaw was smooth, his shoulders broad. His eyes were a stunning ice blue. The latest arrival peered at her in somber silence.

  She nudged Xander, but apparently he felt his introduction duties were over.

  “Um, hi? I’m Kyanna Hughes.” She nervously tucked a wayward lock of hair behind her ear.

  Niklas nodded.

  “You must be the Seer,” Kyanna murmured, remembering the information Xander had given her previously. Niklas arched an eyebrow in Xander’s direction and promptly sat down on the only vacant seat left.

  “Kyanna is the Guardian of the Arc Stone,” Xander began without preamble.

  Several voices all erupted at once, the least of which was her own.

  “Arc Stone?” She peered up at Xander, filled with confusion. “I am custodian of the book. I don’t—”

  “Dude.” Sebastian came to the edge of his seat, peering around Xander at her now as if she’d somehow tricked them. “The scrolls are—”

  “The stone,” Xander asserted.

  “No, I’m not. You’re not making any sense. This is just a ward stone, a really old, really powerful one. That’s all.” She rested her palm on the long, cylindrical rock that had been passed down in her family for generations along with the book. Bemused, she stared at Xander. How had he come to this insane conclusion? Arc Stone, indeed.

  Gideon stared at the book, where it rested against her hip. “You sure?”

  Xander turned to her, his expression asking permission. She didn’t know where he was going with this, but she nodded assent, trusting him.

  Xander lifted the heavy, cylindrical stone in his hand and extended his arm for all to see. He took the dagger from his ankle strap and, before anyone could react, drew the blade across his forearm, slicing deep.

  “Xander! What are you—” Kyanna lunged forward to stop him, but her alarmed gasp abruptly choked off. Almost before the blood could well, the cut sealed itself. And she suddenly remembered the blisters and cuts that had peppered his flesh when he’d first carried her down the steps of her burning apartment. Blisters and cuts that had mysteriously disappeared when he’d returned from her flaming office. Every eye in the room was glued to the rock in Xander’s hand.

  “It sho
uld have taken at least an hour for a wound that deep to heal for one of our kind,” he added for her benefit.

  “I-I don’t understand.” Frowning, she accepted the stone from him. She stared at the rock. Gnawed on her lip. “May I?” She motioned to Xander.

  He lifted his brows, but held the dagger out to her as he offered his free arm, obviously expecting her to experiment on him for herself. Instead of taking the dagger, she pricked her finger on the tip. Xander’s reaction was lightning swift. He slapped it back in its sheath and scowled at her. Without warning, he grabbed her wrist, and yanked her hand in front of him. She held the stone up with her free hand, then twisted her wrist, showing the rest of the room her proof that he was somehow mistaken.

  Crimson liquid welled from her fingertip. The small cut stung. And it wasn’t healing. He’d proven nothing here.

  Without explanation, Xander thrust her bleeding fingertip into his mouth. Held it there, lips sealed over her skin, tongue pressed hard to the cut. Confused, she stared at him, until she noticed that his gaze was locked not on her, but on Mikhail. Turning her attention to the others in the room, she realized they were all staring at Mikhail. And, no one moved.

  Each and every one of them behaved as if the slightest movement might provoke the Demon of War.

  Subdued by the oppressive note of caution hanging heavy in the room, Kyanna slowly turned to Mikhail as well. He was rigid in his seat. His hands were locked on the arms of the chair. His knuckles were bleached white. His eyes flickered the deepest onyx. And not the flat black surface that she’d seen when Sebastian’s eyes had changed. Mikhail’s eyes were bottomless, black space. Freaky. Clenching his jaw, he visibly forced a swallow. By slow degrees, he began to relax. He uttered not a sound. At length, his eye color returned to their pale green color.

  And everyone let out the breath they’d been holding.

  “Well, I’ll be damned.” This from Gideon. “We have a relic.”

  “Why do you insist that it’s a relic?” She glanced around the room, from one demon to the next, demanding an answer. Xander had released her finger from the distracting suction of his mouth. He glanced at the wound to make certain that blood no longer welled, then, apparently satisfied, he sat back, tucking her proprietarily against his side. All across the room, eyebrows lifted, yet no one spoke.