Of Fire and Storm

by D. G. Swank

  I spotted the cars in the field next to the warehouse before I saw the warehouse itself. The party officially started at nine, and it was now ten forty-five. It was probably just getting started.

  I parked in the back of the lot, bringing only my phone, keys, and twenty dollars for the cover charge, but as I walked to the entrance, I realized the last time I’d eaten was the turkey sandwich I’d made before meeting Deidre. Good thing I didn’t plan to drink.

  Music with a driving beat was coming from the open door. I was somewhat surprised the fancy private party had a DJ rather than a band, especially since there were so many musicians in town. The song was a bit too alternative for my taste, but I wasn’t here to party.

  There was a small line waiting to get in, so I stood at the back and checked my phone, pretending to be absorbed with my screen while eavesdropping.

  “I heard they don’t check IDs here,” a guy several spaces ahead said. “We’ll be home free.”

  “How can they get away with that?” a girl asked.

  “Because it’s not within city limits,” another girl said. “And I heard they paid the sheriff’s department to stay away.”

  If demons were luring students here, it made sense they’d want privacy. A nosy law enforcement officer could get in the way.

  I didn’t hear anything else helpful, but I noticed several guys checking me out—a couple of them with girlfriends. I made sure to radiate a badass attitude, even if I wasn’t feeling it. I was riding a fine line. Blend in enough to observe without interference, yet stand out enough to get my VIP invite.

  As I approached, I realized that while Autumn had given me a code word to get in, no one else was using one. Should I use it anyway?

  The bouncer was a big beefy guy who looked like he was in his late twenties. His eyes filled with appreciation as he looked me up and down.

  I held out my twenty and said with plenty of attitude, “I was told to tell you albatross.”

  A predatory grin spread across his face. “I’m not surprised. Go on in. Tony’ll let them know.” He gestured to the guy next to him taking money.

  Tony turned his attention to me, ignoring the couple who’d just walked up to him. His eyes lit up with interest as he motioned me past him. As I walked by, he leaned in and said, “I’ll see you later, beautiful.”

  Something in his voice set me on edge, and I resisted the urge to turn back and sucker punch him.

  The moment I stepped into the big warehouse, I was slammed with a force so strong it made me take a step backward into the couple Tony was now collecting money from.

  “Whoa, there,” Tony said, cupping my elbow. I felt a jolt, almost like static electricity, and his eyes narrowed. “What was your name?” he asked in a low, sultry voice.

  “Piper,” I said as I pulled away, realizing I should have come up with an alias. Why had I felt a jolt? He clearly wasn’t a ghost, but I didn’t usually feel an electrical pulse from demons, nor had I met a demon that looked human. Could he be one of the Nunnehi? Except that didn’t seem to fit either. I’d felt them from a distance, but I felt nothing from him other than when we touched.

  He was über-focused on me now. His gaze dipped to scan my body and then came to rest on my face. “How about we pick this up later?”

  I gave him a sexy grin. “If you can find me…”

  I headed inside, pushing into the wall of power, which took a considerable amount of both physical and metaphysical effort. Once I crossed the threshold into the warehouse, I popped free of it. A quick glance over my shoulder confirmed that Tony was watching. Had I passed his test, or had I confirmed my true identity? One thing was clear, the warehouse had wards of its own, but was it warded to keep things out or in?

  The music was loud, and the bass was strong enough to rattle my bones. I waded through a crowd of over a hundred people on the dance floor, feeling another wave of power. The force at the door had felt unnatural, but this power felt organic…erotic. The room was full of lust and sex. This was no doubt a common occurrence in large parties, but I’d never experienced it before. Was I feeling it for the first time because of my own gift, the efforts of a demon, or both?

  I walked the perimeter of the room, keeping my senses open for the feel of a demon. So far, the markings on my hand hadn’t tingled, but after my encounter with Tony, I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing.

  The DJ was set up on a raised platform on the far-right wall, and several cash bars were arranged on the left side. The space was big enough to house two food trucks, and picnic tables surrounded by plastic lawn chairs bordered the dance floor. The majority of the guests were on the dance floor, and whatever was in the air made most of them more liberated than what I was used to at parties. Everyone had let loose, dancing with great enthusiasm, and a good portion of the couples were in varying states of making out and groping.

  But while there was a lot of action on the dance floor, it looked like the VIP area was upstairs. A set of metal stairs led to a deep loft that overlooked the dance floor. It was high enough—over twenty feet tall—that I couldn’t see what was going on up there unless I stood by the entrance, and even then I could only see the people who were lingering by the railing. On my second trip around the cavernous space, I noticed a handsome man who looked like he was in his thirties had stopped at the edge of the railing. His gaze was firmly on me.

  I was here to get an invite up there, right? He watched me as I walked through the middle of the dance floor toward the stairs, and I was halfway there before I realized I was being drawn to the stairs. The man—or demon—at the edge was willing me forward.

  Panicked, I clasped my left hand into a fist, drawing power from the mark on my palm. A soft glow escaped from the cracks of my fingers, and I squeezed my hand tighter. My palm itched, but this time it didn’t feel like it usually did when a demon was near—my hand had an overwhelming urge to hold St. Michael in its grip.

  I told myself a hand couldn’t have desires and demands and decided to sort it out later. Besides, I couldn’t pull out St. Michael right now without drawing attention. My boot was too low.

  At the moment, I needed to play it cool. I needed to go upstairs and talk to the demon, or whatever it was—my mark still didn’t sense the presence of a demon—and figure out a way to defend myself without losing my free will.

  Could a demon steal your free will? Yeah, I told myself. Wasn’t that the point of possession?

  Maybe I was in over my head.

  But I was already here, and I needed answers. Besides, I was in the middle of what had to be close to two hundred people now. I’d be fine.

  I didn’t believe it for a second, but I went anyway.

  As I reached the staircase, I felt the demon’s pull as surely as if it were a rope tugging me in. I started to panic again, but when I used my power to resist the magnetic force, the tug sharply decreased. Relief washed through me.

  I could do this.

  He was waiting at the top of the stairs, blocking me from entering. He was wearing a long-sleeved, silky black shirt with the top two buttons undone, tucked into a pair of dark jeans. He was handsome, gorgeous actually, and the confidence in his eyes proved he knew it.

  “Hello, beautiful,” he said, reaching for my hand.

  I kept my hands at my sides. When I reached the second step from the top, I came to a stop and tilted my head back to look him in the eye. “So this is where the action is?”

  “You have no idea.” His grin spread, and he took two steps back to reveal the VIP lounge. “Welcome to my private party.”

  There were several sofas and loveseats spread around the room and there were multiple people draped on them, in various stages of undress. Their bodies were in positions that left little to the imagination.

  Oh, sweet baby Jesus, Autumn hadn’t been exaggerating. I’d walked into an orgy.

  The energy of sex and lust, so much stronger up here, hit me full force. It was like it was crawling over my skin, making me de
sperate for…

  Desperate for sex.

  Crap. I needed to cut my losses and get out of here before I did something stupid.

  No, I could handle this. I pushed more energy to the surface of my skin, blocking the force so that it merely nipped at me. Parts of my body still throbbed, but it was controllable.

  The man held his hands to his sides, his palms open as though he was pulling the power into his own body. The look of ecstasy on his face told me it wasn’t just my imagination. Then he turned to me and smiled again, but this time it wasn’t a leer, it was genuine interest. “You’re resisting. What are you?”

  “What are you?”

  He reached for my arm and I back-stepped out of reach, wondering if now was the time to pull out my daggers. But he lifted his hands up in surrender with an amused grin.

  “I’m afraid I’ve neglected my manners. Hundreds of years locked away will do that to a creature. I apologize. I’m Caelius, lord of Eros.” He gave a small bow at the waist.

  It looked utterly ridiculous considering what was going on around him. Not more than six feet away, two men were getting busy with a woman who appeared to love every minute of what their mouths were doing.

  Rising from his bow, Caelius noticed where my attention had drifted, and his dark grin returned. “Maybe you’re not so immune after all.”

  “I’m immune,” I fibbed with plenty of attitude. “I guess I’m just a little sheltered. This is my first orgy.”

  “This was commonplace in Rome before the fall,” he said with unmistakable longing. His own gaze had wandered to the threesome. The power in the room surged like waves, ebbing and flowing all around Caelius. Power oozed from him, spreading into the room, washing over my skin and making me dizzy. I pushed more of my engery to the surface, unsure how long I could hold him off. Just as his flow of power tapered off, I could see him soaking in the power rolling back to him.

  He gestured toward a chaise lounge chair in the middle of the sofas. “Come. Let’s have a chat.”

  He wanted me to sit in the middle of an orgy? Had he lost his mind? But as I glanced at the chaise, I realized it was dead center of a triangle made by the sofas and chairs, and symbols were drawn on the floor underneath it. I suddenly had a good idea why he wanted me to go over there with him.

  “I think I’m just fine here, thanks.”

  He laughed and started to unbutton his shirtsleeve at the wrist. “I’ve introduced myself, but now I’m curious about you. What’s your name?”

  He rolled up the sleeve to reveal a firm forearm. I became mesmerized by the way the silk folded over and grazed his skin. My fingers flexed, wanting to reach out and help.

  “Your name, my love?” he coaxed, but my attention was focused on his hand. When the fabric reached his elbow, he moved on to his other sleeve.

  My body ached to touch him…to be touched by him… A throbbing filled my core and a wave of white-hot lust rushed through me.

  Stop! something screamed inside me. I blinked, shifting my gaze to the dance floor below as I pushed at the magic that skated along my skin.

  He chuckled. “So not totally immune.”

  “I’m not sleeping with you,” I said, still concentrating on my shield.

  “There will be no sleeping involved,” he said in a low, husky tone.

  I could feel his power, as delicate and light as a sheet of lace, draping over me, and I poured more energy into combating it. I’d about reached my limit, and other than his name, his predilection for Roman orgies, and the fact that he’d been locked up for a few centuries, I hadn’t picked up any information from him. Certainly nothing useful.

  I could sense that he was reaching for me, so I dropped to my right knee and pulled both daggers out of my boots. I rose up and turned toward him, daggers in hand.

  He laughed. “You were almost worth the wait.”

  “What wait?”

  “Don’t toy with me, Curse Keeper,” he said, glancing past me. “I knew you’d be coming, along with your own harem.”

  I couldn’t contain my shock. Elinor had a harem? “I’m not a curse keeper.”

  He studied me with a confused look. After a moment passed, he said, “No, you’re not. But who are you then?”

  “We have a problem, Caelius,” I said, holding my right dagger low and tilted upward while I pointed my left dagger at his chest.

  “Weapons are never the answer, little one,” Caelius said in amusement, not looking the least bit worried. “Love is the answer.”

  I motioned my lower dagger toward the people behind him. “That’s not love.”

  “No, it’s not for all of them, but they are happy. What makes it wrong?”

  “Do they know you are sucking the energy from their bodies?” I asked. “Do you drain them until they die?”

  He made a face of disgust. “No, it’s far too risky, and I have such a great setup here. I wouldn’t want to risk spoiling it. They spend the evening partying, then spend the next day exhausted, none the wiser.” Lust filled his eyes and he took a step toward me. “Although there’s nothing like making people fuck themselves to death. Do you know what’s even better?”

  He released another surge of power, this one even more delicate than the last. He’d figured out I could easily hold off the strong surges. It was the subtle pushes that snuck through my defense.

  I pushed out another wave of my own power, but I could feel it weakening. “I’m guessing it’s not a hot fudge sundae.”

  Surprise filled his eyes, and then he laughed. “No. It’s when I do the fucking. I had planned to lure the curse keeper to her own sacrifice, but you’ll do just fine…”

  He discharged another wave that tickled the hairs on my arms. I could feel myself losing ground.

  “You think you can fuck me to death?” I said with a sharp laugh, then took a step back. “Somebody’s full of himself.”

  “You’ll love every minute of it,” he cooed, his words carrying a hypnotic power of their own.

  Then, before I realized it, he was in front of me.

  It took every drop of willpower to fight him, but I pressed my upraised blade to his throat. “I think I’ll pass.”

  His eyes sparkled with joy. “You’re so strong. Possibly stronger than the curse keeper.”

  I pushed the blade against him, nicking his skin so that a slow trail of blood made a path down his neck to his collar.

  “You don’t want to hurt me, precious. You want to lick up that mess you made. You’ll be filled with the most exquisite power you’ve ever known.”

  His power was taking hold, and I fought the sudden urge to reach up and lick his neck.

  Disgusting.

  This guy was an egomaniac and I needed to hit him where it hurt. “I doubt you’ll be the best I’ve ever tasted,” I pushed out through gritted teeth. “I’ve tasted—”

  Stop. I heard Abel’s voice in my head. Do not tell him about our blood oath.

  Abel?

  His sudden appearance in my head, accompanied by a complete reemergence of our connection—he was here, and he was coming up the stairs—severed any supernatural attraction I felt toward Caelius.

  The demon noticed he’d lost his hold on me. “What are you?” he asked again, this time with more awe.

  “She is Kewasa,” Abel said from behind me, his voice hard as granite. “And she is mine.”

  I briefly considered protesting his claiming me as a possession, but this didn’t seem like the time to discuss twenty-first-century feminism. When I swiveled around to look at him, I almost lost my ability to speak. The draw I felt to him was just as strong as ever, and he was even more handsome than I remembered. Black hair framed his face, which held the hint of a mustache and beard. He was tall and muscled, but not overly so, and his face was perfectly symmetrical, something you’d expect to see in a movie star or a model.

  I barely registered that he’d called me Kewasa—deliverer. Whenever the demon world heard that name, they always associated it
with Abel—and often in surprise—but I still had no idea what he was.

  “Kewasa?” Caelius asked, looking startled as he turned his attention to Abel too. “From the legends? That would make you a—”

  “Who I am is not important. The only thing of importance is that you were about to sacrifice something that is very important to me.”

  Caelius lowered his head in a gesture of reverence. “I had no idea she was yours, your lordship, I—”

  Lordship?

  “Silence,” Abel said, and I could feel his own power stretch toward the demon, wrapping around its head and mouth.

  My jaw dropped. Abel was controlling this demon like he was playing with an ant.

  What was he?

  Caelius lowered himself to the ground, making himself prostrate in front of Abel. I took a step back in fear—not of Caelius but of Abel.

  “You may speak,” Abel said, “but not of my title, and you will tell no one that you have seen me or Kewasa. Swear it on Okeus.”

  Caelius nodded. “I swear it, your—” He made a strangled sound.

  “Get up,” Abel said, gesturing with his hand, and Caelius levitated upright until he was resting on his feet, but not of his own accord. Abel had done that.

  “Where is the Great One?” Abel asked.

  “He should be here soon, your—” Caelius grimaced. “What should I call you?” He bowed his head slightly.

  “I am nothing,” Abel said. “You will call me nothing.”

  “Yes, Nothing,” Caelius said.

  I wasn’t sure if that had been Abel’s intent, but that’s what he got for being vague.

  “How soon?”

  “The curse keepers are coming. He told me I could have the daughter of the sea and he would keep the son of the land for himself.”

  “Why does he want the son of the land? I thought Okeus had claimed him.”