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Escaping the Demon's Trap: Paranormal Demons and Vampires Romance (Princess Anastasia's Tales Book 1)

Page 4

by Martha Woods


  After each meeting, I take the time to escort each client back to the front door, allowing me the opportunity to speak with them privately. It is my way of establishing a mutual respect between them and my people in the event Darien does choose them to succeed his parent’s work. Though I don’t want to appear threatening, I have the feeling that more than one of the prospective buyers leaves with that feeling.

  It’s late in the afternoon when we finish with the appointments. I settle in at the dining table with a tall glass of sweet tea for both of us. I can tell Darien is overwhelmed by all the offers that now sit before him. I watch him for a few minutes as he sifts through all the papers.

  “You don’t have to make a decision today,” I speak up, bringing Darien out of his thoughts. He notices the drink in front of him and takes a long drink of it before looking at me.

  “I just don’t know how I’m going to make a decision. They all seem very nice and their resumes are very impressive. I just wish I knew more about my parent’s work to make the right decision,” Darien admits as he pushes the papers aside. I start collecting them all and I flip through a few before I find the one I want.

  “This is the one you’re going to choose,” I say as I hand him back one piece of paper.

  “And what makes this one so special?” he asks as he looks over the name again.

  “One reason is because Mr. Walters is offering you the most money.” Darien smirks at the comment as he sets down the paper and takes another drink of his tea. “The second reason is because he is the most familiar with your parent’s work, and I know him from his dealing with my family. I believe you can trust him the most out of all of them.” Plus, he is someone I can control easily, but these are words I don’t share with Darien.

  “I trust you, Anna. But I’m going to wait till next week to make a final decision,” Darien admits as he stands and stretches.

  “I think that is a good idea. No need to finalize anything today,” I agree as I stand and walk to his side. We lean against the dining table as we both place our focus outside.

  “Remember that one time I caught a toad by the back pond and chased you around for almost an hour, trying to get you to touch it,” Darien speaks out, a wide smile crossing his face.

  “Oh geez. That was terrible. I don’t know what I was more surprised by, the disgusting toad or that fact you held onto it for so long. I was sure you had caught a nasty disease after that and couldn’t think of you putting your hands on me after that,” I say as I chuckle while I recall the memory.

  “And what about now?” Darien asks as he slides his arm around my waist. I’m surprised by his words as he pulls me towards him and reaches his hand towards my face. For a moment, I wonder if he is going to kiss me and then I realize he is tugging at my glasses.

  “Darien, please don’t,” I stammer as I step away from him and place both hands on my glasses to secure them tightly.

  “I’m so sorry, Anna…I didn’t mean to upset you,” he quickly says as he places his hands on my waist.

  “No, Darien, I understand,” I try to explain as I force myself to breath steadily. I place my hands on his shoulders as I try to look into his eyes. “I just have a strong sensitivity to people touching my glasses.”

  “I just wanted to see your eyes,” Darien says softly as his eyes start to travel to my lips and back to where he thinks my eyes are.

  “Well, I only wear them during the day,” I reply when I hear the front door open. I give him a weak smile, wishing I just had five more minutes alone with him, as I step away from him and start moving towards the front room.

  “Darien? Are you home?” I hear a female voice call out. I stop suddenly and glance back at Darien as recognition crosses his face.

  “Monica?” he calls out as he quickly jogs past me. I take a moment to compose myself back into the warrior I am before I slowly make my way towards the front door.

  I try not to look upset as I watch Darien gather a strange woman into his arms and place an affectionate kiss on her lips. Just a moment before I had wished for those lips to be on mine, but now I understand that Darin still thinks of me as his little sitter.

  “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at school finishing up semester exams?” Darien questions as he releases her, but keeps an arm around her shoulders.

  “I finished up early and came by to surprise you. Who is your guest?” she ask when she finally realizes someone else is in the room. “And where are Elizabeth and John?” For a moment, Monica looks truly concerned but before I can speak, Morgan bursts through the double front doors with his arms weighed down by an extraordinary amount of grocery bags on his arms.

  “I told you I could do it,” he hollers as he rushes through the room and straight through the kitchen, closely followed by a laughing Elizabeth and John.

  “Well that’s Morgan for you. Always wanting to show off. I’m Anastasia Juravinski, by the way, but you can call me Anna. You must be Monica, Darien’s girlfriend he talks so much about,” I gush, but it’s clear to Darien that I’m faking my overly enthusiastic introduction.

  “That’s right. Though I must apologize, I never heard Darien mention an Anna before,” Monica replies calmly.

  “Anna is my oldest friend. She has come to be the mediator as I sell my parent’s business,” Darien explains as he steps away from Monica and for a moment peers into the kitchen to see what the commotion is about. It gives me the opportunity to analyze Monica and decide if she is a normal human. I determine there is nothing unusual about her but I receive the feeling she is territorial over her lover.

  “Well that is good news. But I have even better news. I came to collect you and your family to spend the weekend at my parent’s beach home. I thought it would be a great way to celebrate the end of the semester,” Monica announces to draw Darien’s attention back to her.

  “Really? I think that would be great,” Darien agrees as he smiles down at her. I try to ignore the scene in front of me as I wander into the kitchen. Morgan and Elizabeth are busy putting away groceries as John sits at the kitchen island eating a glazed donut.

  “So, did Morgan behave himself?” I ask, getting everyone’s attention.

  “He was a true gentleman,” Elizabeth said as she finishes putting away food in the fridge.

  “He better have been,” I say in a low voice as I sit next to John and give him a playful wink. He starts to giggle as I look over at Morgan.

  “Your package is in the car,” he mentions before tossing the grocery bags over at Elizabeth. She seems to be enjoying the male attention as she collects them and throws them in the trash. I give Morgan a nod as I turn my head towards the front door where a loud giggle is being sounded from a female voice. I roll my shoulders as I steal the last piece of John’s donut.

  “Don’t worry, we have more,” he says as he stands and begins inspecting the many boxes on the counter.

  “They should be well stocked for a month,” Morgan explains as he takes John’s seat next to me.

  “Figures,” I say as Darien walks into the kitchen with Monica holding his hand.

  “Elizabeth, John. Go pack an overnight bag. We’re going to stay at Monica’s place for the weekend. We’ve been invited to her parent’s beach house and need to hit the road before it gets to dark.” I watch as the joy drains from his sibling’s faces.

  “But we have company, Darien. Wouldn’t it be rude to leave when we have guests for dinner?” Elizabeth says in the most adult voice she can muster. I can’t help but smile weakly at her. At least she was trying.

  “We can have dinner when you return from your trip. Morgan and I should get going. I have work tomorrow in town and really need to get ready for a big day,” I lie as I stretch and pull Morgan after me.

  “Well, at least take something with you,” John says as he quickly picks up a box and shoves it into my hands. I open the lid to see a dozen donuts. I give him a smile as I bend down and give him
a hug.

  “Thank you, John. That is very kind,” I say as I release him and accept a hug from Elizabeth. “You have fun this weekend and we can visit more when you get back.” And as I release her I slowly turn towards Darien. “I’ll be here till you make a decision.”

  I clutch the box as I walk towards the front door. I don’t bother looking back as Morgan follows me out of the house and to the rental car.

  “Well that was awkward,” Morgan says once we are in the car. I set the donuts in the back seat and collect the package waiting for me. I tear at the tape as Morgan drives us back into town. Inside the package is a small wooden box full of enough magical chalk to spell my way out of hell.

  “Thank you, Morgan,” I eventually say as we near the townhouse he had slept in the day before.

  “Don’t thank me just yet, Princess. We still have a token to collect. And of course, by we I mean you,” he says as he turns off the engine.

  “I’ll remember that the next time you try to get in my pants,” I say as I gather the chalk and stick it in my pocket. I step outside the car as Morgan comes around and presses into me, pinning my arms to the car.

  “Is that an offer, Princess?” he asks as he leans down and places his lips on my neck.

  “No, Morgan, it is not. Now if you’ll excuse me I have work to do,” I say calmly. He leans back and pushes my sunglasses up over my head. With the sun already dropping below the horizon, I allow him the action. Looking deeply into his eyes as he tosses his sunglasses to the ground, I can’t help but feel the urge to take his offer.

  “You should wait till the morning to get started. I’m sure you haven’t eaten either,” he says as he runs his finger along my face and across my chin, pausing to place his thumb on my lips.

  “Go eat, Morgan. We both know how easier it is to get what we want when it’s dark,” I respond as I push him away. With the box of donuts tucked under my arm and the chalk securely in my pocket, I head down the sidewalk and towards Mr. Yung’s townhouse. The faster I get the token, the faster I can leave this place, I tell myself as I push all thoughts out of my head and begin focusing on the task at hand.

  Chapter Five

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  “Dear Lord, that’s a lot of wine,” I speak out loud once I am standing inside Mr. Yung’s townhouse and can finally see clearly in the house. I’ve locked the door behind me and once I flipped on the lights, the towers of wine cases that go from the floor to the ceiling was hard to fathom. “I guess he has to store it somewhere,” I mumble as I start examining the crates. I’d imagine the token would be somewhere close to affect each bottle long enough to make it to the restaurant and still have an effect on the human population.

  As I walk through the house, I find more crates filling the space. I set my donuts down on the kitchen counter as I circle back to the front room through the dining room and living room. The house appears to be more of a storage space than a house with no other signs of occupancy. There is no food in the fridge and each room is bare besides the crates of wine.

  I place my hand on the railing of the stairs when the foreign sensation returns to my body. It’s almost sickening the temptation to rip open each crate and start drinking bottle after bottle. I focus on my breathing as I let go of the railing and start examine the stairs. I spot a small cupboard beneath the stairs that I slowly approach and rest my hand on the latch. Immediately the sensation returns, and I quickly withdraw my hand to rid myself of the feeling. If I was a normal human, I’d be drowned in wine by now. But years of experience has taught me to fight off these demonic temptations.

  With the location of the token isolated to one space, I walk back towards the front door, withdraw my box of magical chalk, and begin writing a containment spell on the floor. When my ancestors learned about the supernatural realm, they also learned the language of the demons, allowing them to construct spells that would contain them to objects. After hundreds of years of practice, the spells have been perfected to contain creatures to specific areas and to influence humans to stay away from those places.

  The first spell I begin will not allow anyone, human or creature, to enter the house till the area has been purged of any supernatural beings. The second will not allow anyone or thing out till the task is completed. Next, I start writing symbols on each of the crates that prevent them from being influenced by supernatural power, or at least less prone to absorb the power of the token. By doing so, I isolate the power of the token to the item that is containing the demon or spirit.

  I can see the morning rays of the sun as I walk back into the front room after completing the final spell. I realize I’m down to a half a stick of chalk as I double check my spells at the front door. I place the last piece gentle into the box and pocket it as I look through the glass of the front door. I wish I had taken the time to pick up my sunglasses from where Morgan had brushed them off, but there is no leaving now. I won’t be able to leave till the token is either secured for travel or destroyed. And even then, I’ll have to wait till night in order to avoid being observed in the daylight.

  I take a moment to wash my hands in the kitchen sink of all the chalk residue and take a moment to eat a few donuts and drink plenty of water. Once I open the cupboard underneath the stairs, I won’t be able to stop till the job is complete. Even with a demon contained to a token, they have their own ways of tempting people, even warriors, to release them.

  “You can do this,” I whisper to myself as I leave the kitchen and approach the cupboard. I slowly place my hand on the latch, pleased to feel nothing now that the token’s powers have been reflected back on itself. It’s a sure sign that the spells are working. Opening the small door, I kneel to pull a string to turn on a dim light from under the stairs. Before me is a triangular stack of wine bottles. I shuffle closer, examining each with my eyes to notice each one is identical. The only way I’m going to figure out each one is the token by separating the bottles in a line and looking each one closely.

  I take a moment to pull packing material from a crate so I don’t have to physically touch any of the wine bottles. I don’t want to accidentally touch the token and face the consequences. Carefully and slowly, I take each bottle down from the stack with my hand wrapped in paper and start aligning each bottle in front of me. As the work continues, my mind starts to wonder as I think of what Morgan must be doing right now. I’m slightly annoyed I didn’t force him to come with me and be a better assistant. Then I begin to wonder what Darien is doing with Monica when I set a wine bottle down and turn to grab the next one, only to bump my elbow into a bottle that has magical up righted itself behind me.

  The wine bottle starts to topple over as I yell several curse words. Time is plunged into slow motion as I grab the neck of the bottle before it can shatter on the floor. Immediately I feel it as I stumble from the cupboard. My body feels weighed down mixed with the sensation of walking through Jell-O. The power of the token is taking effect as my eyes grow heavy and my mind is filled with thoughts of sleep. I wrap both arms around the bottle, securing it against my chest as my body loses the fight with consciousness. I fall heavily onto my back and my head smacks against the wooden floor.

  ****

  “You know who she is, right?” I hear a male voice whisper as I finally begin to wake. I expect my head to be throbbing, but I’m surprised to feel no pain as I open my eyes to sunlight peering through the front door. My eyes are focused on the scene outside the door as I notice both the day light and the night sky bordering each other. I can feel the sunlight on one side of my body, and nothing on the other as moonlight peers through and half the house is covered in darkness. As I look from the door, I notice two figures sitting on the bottom of the staircase in that darkness.

  “Does it matter who she is? All that matters is your free now,” a woman responds, rather annoyed. I tilt my head towards them, trying to focus my eyes on them but the sunlight blurs my vision. I finally convince my body to si
t up as I tighten my grip on the wine bottle. I hardly feel any sensation in my body as I push myself to my feet and step away from the sunlight to see my captures closely.

  “I can tell she is a Juravinski. She looks so much like her father,” the male says as he stands and steps closer. He is much taller than me as the sunlight illuminates his blue skin, black eyes, and long braided black hair.

  “And who do I have the pleasure of speaking too?” I ask slowly, my voice sounding strange in my ears. The woman stands, clearly shocked by my words. She looks more human and appears to be Japanese by the long kimono she is wearing.

  “You must be powerful. You’re already speaking,” she says as she joins the demon’s side. I wonder what kind of demon partnership this is, I think to myself as I begin stretching and looking around the townhouse. The wine crates have disappeared, leaving only the white walls of the townhouse to remain. As I glance at the front door, I can see my spells have remained but it’s obvious we are no longer in my realm by the way the sky appears.

  “My name is Malbious. And I’m not a demon. I’m a djinn. And this is my muse, Eliana,” he explains as he steps closer and begins circling me.

  “How does a trickster trap a muse?” I ask calmly. I take mental note that he has the ability to see my thoughts in this dimension.

  “How does a warrior make such a stupid mistake?” Malbious replies as he eyes the wine bottle in my hands.

  “I have a history of making poor mistakes. Seems history repeats itself,” I admit as I turn my focus on the muse. She is perfectly posed, unaffected by Malbious’ actions as he continues to circle me.

  “Only your stuck in here alone this time,” he says as he stops in front of me. I can see clearly now the scars that cover his bare chest. Whoever trapped Malbious in this token must have fought brutally to get him in here. Instinctively, Malbious raises his hand and traces a few of the scares with his finger as he keeps his eyes on me.

 

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