Night Demon

by Lisa Kessler

  “So show me.”

  …

  The Guardian moved fast. Marguerite could barely keep up, let alone guide his path through the tangled vines and tree branches. He knew she did her best to maneuver him, but stray branches still tore open his skin, leaving bloody gashes behind.

  He hardly noticed.

  His pace was relentless, just as the Demon who pursued them. Marguerite slowed and he pulled her off the ground, carrying her with one arm, while he used his other arm to avoid collisions with trees. Finally he slowed and placed her on her feet, knowing the pyramid was close by.

  “You found it.” She took his hand. “How did you do that?”

  He turned his blind face toward her, his chest heaving with exertion. “I do not need my eyes to see in this darkness.”

  “I know you couldn’t see the trees.” His bare chest was already beginning to heal the cuts from their race through the jungle. “How did you find the pyramid?”

  “I was made from this forest. It is a part of me. I do not need to see in order to know the scents and the landscape. But trees tend to grow without my knowledge. Thank you for guiding me around them.”

  She laughed. “Judging by all of our scrapes, I did not do a very good job.”

  He shook his head and took her hand as they entered the pyramid. “We arrived before Camalotz. That is all that matters.”

  When they reached the center chamber, Issa took the Guardian’s hand from hers, walking the hulking man to the stone table where Colin lay. Without a word, he cut open the Guardian’s wrist and placed the wound to Colin’s lips. Although his body was engorged with blood to feed the wounded, cutting open his skin was still painful.

  Colin drank deeply, and gradually, the Guardian’s limbs grew heavy. His brow furrowed when he felt the wave of emotion brush over him.

  Marguerite’s cool fury.

  After the God of the South drank his fill, Issa led him to another injured Night Walker and his wrist was opened again, his blood offered and taken. As the man finished drinking, the Guardian sensed Marguerite’s approach, and out of habit, turned toward her.

  She took his hand in hers. “All of you should be ashamed of yourselves.”

  He felt her lift his wounded wrist to her lips. She pricked her tongue on her own sharp tooth, and his skin tingled as her immortal blood healed his wound.

  “How can you be so callous? This man saved my life and countless others, and yet you cannot even give him the courtesy of a ‘thank you’ for the blood in his veins.” She gripped his hand tighter as she continued. “Issa, you rip open his skin and feed the others as if he is merely an animal, not deserving of dignity or appreciation. But he is not your beast of burden. You and the rest of this world owe him a great deal for his protection.”

  “He was created for just that purpose, to protect,” Issa said. “The Guardian does what is needed because he can do no less. I am sorry if we have offended you, but we really have no time to argue over the Guardian’s worth.”

  Her entire body vibrated beside him. The Guardian felt something in his chest shift and realized he had to force himself not to smile. “You need not defend me.”

  “You are my friend.” She placed her other hand on his forearm. “You cared about me, and now it is my turn to care about you. The reason you were created is of no importance to me. Who you are is all that matters.”

  She gave his large hand a gentle squeeze.

  “Rita?”

  The Guardian heard Marguerite’s heartbeat flutter and felt her tremble. Instinctively, he shifted his body in front of her, but she stepped past him.

  “Kane…”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Lukas stared at Gretchen, unable to move or speak while his mind raced with the implications of her request.

  “You want me to show you?” He shook his head and took a step back. “I won’t drink from you, if that’s what you mean.”

  “Why not?” She moved closer, and in spite of himself, the scent of her blood, her beauty, enticed him.

  “For many reasons.” He could already feel the ache inside of him, hunger growling with desire, seducing him to imagine how close they would be. He would be able to hear her thoughts as if they were his own, see her dreams, feel her heart beating as he drank her life into his body.

  Gretchen smiled, her hand sliding up his chest. “Name some.”

  “I don’t want to hurt you.” He took her hand and moved it to his lips. The warmth of her skin distracted him, making it even harder to resist the temptation she offered. “The last thing I want is to cause you pain.”

  “I’m not afraid.”

  He ground his teeth together. “That’s because you don’t understand what it is you’re asking for.”

  Gretchen reached up, pulling aside her long hair and tilting her head away from him. “I don’t?”

  Lukas’s eyes narrowed, staring at two tiny puncture wounds near the back of her neck. Jealousy shot through him. His body went rigid, his jaw taut. “Who did this to you?”

  “Zafrina.” She lowered her hand, allowing her hair to cover the wound again.

  His hands balled into tight fists. “She hurt you.”

  “No.” Gretchen shook her head. “I don’t remember it at all. She must’ve hypnotized me or something. That’s why I want you to drink, Lukas. I want to know what it feels like, and I want it to be you who shows me.”

  He shook his head, fighting to keep his hands from shaking as he ran them both back through his hair. “You think this is some sort of science experiment.” He met her eyes, lowering his voice. “But you’re wrong. Very wrong.”

  “You aren’t scaring me, if that’s your intention.” She took a step closer. “I’m not stupid, Lukas, and I’m not a child. I realize it might hurt, but Zafrina drank from me. She didn’t kill me, and you won’t, either.”

  “Why can’t you understand?” Frustration mixed with fear, simmering inside of him. “I don’t want to take that chance.”

  He spun around, unable to look at her any longer. Her eyes burned into his back. He could feel the weight of her stare, but he didn’t turn. He couldn’t. Letting out a heavy sigh, Lukas stared up at the night sky.

  Already his teeth ached in his mouth, his eyes burned, glowing red with inhuman hunger.

  “I get lost when I feed. I don’t know how else to describe it. My whole body screams with need the moment blood touches my lips, and it consumes me. I become an animal, Gretchen, a monster. I’ve never been able to master taking only a small taste. That’s why I try not to feed on humans. I can’t take that risk with you.”

  Her touch burned through the fabric of his shirt as her fingertips slid up along his spine. Her scent filled his lungs, embracing him in her essence, until he felt intoxicated simply because she was so close.

  His resolve weakened. Finally, Lukas turned around, knowing his eyes were glowing crimson. “Don’t ask this of me.”

  “You know I wouldn’t unless it was important.”

  “Why is seeing me as a monster important to you?”

  “Because you aren’t a monster to me.” Her words trailed off as her arms moved up around his neck, drawing his lips to hers.

  His heart raced, his mind screaming to step back before passion and hunger surpassed all reason. But instead of pushing her away, he yanked her in closer, crushing her to his chest as he pressed hot, hungry kisses along her tender throat.

  Her fingers threaded through his hair and she gave a tug as his incisors lengthened into sharp fangs. He moaned with lust for her body, her blood, her love, as his tongue tenderly tasted her flesh. The sound of her gasp, the yearning in her voice as she called his name, fueled his desire.

  He had never wanted anyone or anything so badly in his entire life.

  “I love you,” he whispered, his words fading away as his teeth broke through her skin and the heat of her blood scorched his soul.

  …

  Gretchen clung to Lukas, fighting to keep her mind c
lear, to take in every sensation and study every aspect of him feeding on her blood, but she quickly found it difficult to concentrate. Her heartbeat slowed to match his heart’s rhythm, and the initial pain she’d felt when he broke through her skin was replaced by pleasure, almost erotic, like their souls entwining to become one. Each pull at her veins brought another wave. It felt like pure passion, similar to making love, but somehow even more intimate, one life feeding the other.

  Her body writhed against him as she struggled for a better description.

  Am I simply a science experiment? Lukas whispered into her mind.

  She could hear the smile in his voice although she couldn’t see his face. Her limbs tingled, growing heavier with each passing moment as she fought to answer him silently through her thoughts.

  You know the answer to that question.

  Do I? Lukas asked.

  Yes. She smiled inwardly. You do. Now look past what I’m thinking now. Zafrina saw parts of my life when she drank from me.

  Gretchen felt his mind enter hers, merging them together until she was no longer sure where she ended and he began. Her body felt heavy and pliant as he held her close. His mental presence warmed her. He soared through her mind, her heart, her soul, and while he saw her memories, she realized that the mental path between them now went both directions.

  Moaning against him as she fought another wave of dizziness, Gretchen saw Lukas as he once was, a young boy learning to hunt with his father. Snow covered the ground and spirals of smoke rose from the chimney of his family home. The scenes flashed in her mind so quickly, it was difficult to place what she saw. She hoped she would remember later. But first she needed to rest. She felt drained. Exhausted.

  She closed her eyes with a sigh and didn’t open them again.

  …

  Lukas had never experienced a more complete moment than this one. He felt whole, in perfect unison with her. Drinking Gretchen into himself, their minds weaving together into a glorious harmony—he never wanted it to end.

  He felt her grip around his shoulders weaken. Somewhere in the back of his mind a small warning sounded. Something was wrong. But he drowned in sensation, lost in her taste, her scent, her love. Rational thought escaped him. Instead, he drank.

  Her memories came to him at an alarming rate, filling his mind as if they were his own. He saw her holding her father’s hand, walking down a dock. Her skinned-up knees and elbows attested to her love of adventure and the outdoors, and he could feel her happiness, her joy, as she kept a tight grip on her fishing pole.

  The fishing trip faded away as he held her close, savoring each warm sip of her precious blood. Darkness filled his mind. He saw shadows dancing on the walls of a cavern and glyphs. Mayan glyphs covered the ceiling, surrounded them in their story. He saw Zafrina. He’d only seen her for a moment, but he would never forget her eyes, almost orange.

  This was the woman who had taken Gretchen’s blood and, in turn, shared some of her knowledge.

  Images, stories, and fear filled his mind at an alarming rate. Gretchen’s fear. She was heavy in his arms now, her pulse weakening as he drank. He took in all that Zafrina had shown her and reached for more, but Gretchen seemed so far away. Heavy in his arms.

  Not moving.

  Reality slammed into him, yanking him back from the euphoric swoon he’d been lost in. Conscious thought attacked his hunger and lust until he could think clearly again. Lukas raised his head, piercing his tongue on his sharp teeth to kiss over her wound and heal her skin. He opened his eyes.

  “No…God, no!” She was so pale. “Gretchen.” He stroked her hair away from her forehead. Her head lolled back. “Please. No. Milaya moya, no!” He leaned closer to feel for breath. “I’m so sorry…please wake up.”

  He drew her in close, pressing his lips to hers, and puffed air into her mouth. Her lips were cooler than his. He could hear her heart fighting to maintain its rhythm. It fluttered weakly inside of her, struggling to keep her alive.

  His pulse raced as fast as his frantic thoughts. He couldn’t lose her. He raised his wrist to his lips, watching her face for any sign of life. But instead of opening a wound to feed her his healing blood, Lukas lowered his hand, sliding his arms around her and pulling her close.

  He wept silently into her long thick hair. He couldn’t give her his blood. He’d blamed Calisto for centuries for damning him to live forever, to thirst forever, without his consent. How could he do the same to the only woman he’d ever loved?

  He would punish himself for the rest of eternity for being so weak, for drinking from her, for letting her die, but he would rather live with that pain than to see hatred in her eyes every time she looked at him because he took away her choice, her humanity.

  Maybe she wouldn’t hate him. Maybe she wouldn’t see living forever as the curse he saw it to be. Maybe their love would be ageless, a timeless treasure, and they could watch eternity pass together.

  He held her tighter against his chest. Too many maybes. He would never make such a permanent decision for her without her consent.

  Lukas embraced her, choking on a sob when he heard her heart stop and then stutter again. “Don’t go,” he whispered. “I love you.”

  She coughed.

  He drew back, cradling her in his arms.

  A labored breath filled her lungs.

  “That’s it. Just breathe.”

  Another breath. And in his mind, he heard the sweetest sound.

  I love you, too.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Kane released Mulac from his custody and took a tentative step toward Marguerite. “Rita, you live.”

  Issa moved closer to Mulac as Marguerite nodded in answer. Kane opened his arms to his mate, but she backed away.

  “What is it?” Kane frowned, taking a step toward her. “Are you hurt?”

  “Not anymore,” the Guardian replied, putting himself between them again.

  “Anymore?” Kane frowned. “The Demon.” Issa felt his brother’s rage building. “She hurt you.”

  “No, yes,” she said quietly. “I thought she was you. You attacked me.”

  The Guardian spoke before Kane could react. “Camalotz is near. You have Ch’en. The ceremony must begin. Now.”

  Calisto rose to his feet, standing in front of the Goddess of the Moon. “I do not know this Ch’en you speak of, but I will not allow you to harm Kate in her place.”

  “There is no other way,” Issa replied, his voice low and hushed.

  Calisto turned toward him, but Issa would not meet his eyes. “Please, you must believe I did not know about the law to make no more than one Night Walker. If someone must be punished, it should be me. Spare her…”

  “Enough!” Issa screamed. “There is no law. Whatever Mulac has told you is false. He lied to you both.”

  Calisto’s brow furrowed. His gaze shifted to Mulac before once again staring at Issa’s dark features. “Then why have you taken us prisoner?”

  “Because the woman you now call Kate was once our Goddess of the Moon. She brought Camalotz, the Night Demon, into this world millennia before this one, and only her sacrifice can banish the Demon again.”

  Kate stepped up beside Calisto. “That’s how I know you. I’ve seen you when I dream. You were there when this happened before…”

  Mulac’s sudden burst of cynical laughter filled the cavern. “He was much more than that, Kate. Issa, my immortal brother, is the executioner. He ripped your heart from your chest while it still pulsed in his hand.”

  “Stay away from her,” Calisto growled. “This is all a mistake. Kate has been with me since the night I gave her my blood. She has not summoned any demons.”

  “There is no other way to have freed Camalotz,” Kane said. “The Demon awoke from her slumber the moment Ch’en was once again immortal, and she was freed into this world when Ch’en called her forth.”

  “My name is Kate, not Ch’en.” Just the sound of her voice tore at Issa’s heart. Her name might have cha
nged, but her old soul remained. “I’m a choir teacher. I wouldn’t know how to bring a demon into the world even if I wanted to.”

  Calisto’s eyes locked onto his maker’s face. “But Mulac would.” He pointed at the white-haired immortal. “That is why you wanted Kate to drink from you. It was not to make her stronger. It was to make her call the Night Demon into the world for you.”

  Issa narrowed his eyes at Mulac. “You found this woman and fed her from your own veins? You knew who she was, and you never told us you’d seen her.”

  Calisto interrupted. “Mulac came to us in San Diego and told us other ancients would be hunting Kate because I had made more than one Night Walker. If she drank his ancient blood, he said she would be stronger against an attack. When she drank, she saw his memories. He coaxed her to say something…”

  “Ko’oten,” Kate whispered. “I didn’t know what it meant.”

  “It means ‘come,’” Issa said quietly. “And only from your lips could that word free the Demon. You called Camalotz into this world, even if you did not mean to.”

  “And only through your sacrifice can Camalotz be banished again.” Colin rose up from the stone table to stand at Issa’s side. He looked completely restored except for his disfigured arm. He kept it cradled in the palm of his other hand.

  Calisto shook his head. “There has to be another way.”

  Issa sighed, wishing with his entire being for any other solution. “There is no other way. The magic will only banish the Demon when we seal the ceremonial fire with the blood sacrifice of the one who called her.”

  “Then take him.” Calisto gestured toward his maker. “Mulac called her. He used Kate’s lips, but it was his heart who called the Demon. Take his heart to silence her.”

  “This does not make sense,” Kane interrupted. “Why would Mulac give Ch’en the word to free the Demon that we all fought so hard to silence?”

  Mulac smiled, but his gaze was cold and distant. “Calisto will say anything to keep his beloved’s heart inside her chest.”

  Calisto’s fists tightened at his sides.