Demons (Darkness #4)

by K. F. Breene

  I stared into those liquid black eyes. The world fell away. Seeing him in that crisp white shirt, and the cufflinks, and designer slacks. He even had dress shoes on. The man looked like a million bucks wrapped in a deadly sin.

  I tried to settle down, to simmer down my libido, but his predator was emerging, firing me up, getting my heart pumping. A burst of adrenaline attacked me, responding to his call to battle. Responding to what he would do if something ever happened to me. He slipped toward battle rage, and I slipped in as well. No battle to fight? No problem, we’d war with each other until climax.

  I was striding at him before I knew what I was doing. He came at me just as fast. I ripped his shirt open, marveling at his perfect chest. I wrapped my hand around the back of his neck and pulled him toward me, capturing his mouth with mine. He ripped my pants away, undies discarded directly after that. He took down his pants right before I climbed onto his sizeable body, wrapping my legs around his waist, letting him take my weight. With a hard thrust, he pushed inside of me, filling me up.

  His fist curled in my hair as his body pumped. I tightened my grip around his neck and scratched down his torso with my other hand. He growled in my ear before taking my earlobe in his teeth. I leaned against him suddenly, my shift in weight all on his shoulders. He staggered and lost his balance, toppling backwards.

  We fell to the ground, me on top, striving harder. I rocked on top of him, taking all of him and pushing for more. Harder and harder we worked, clutching at each other, grimacing with the sweet pain of it. He yanked my hair. I dug my nails into his chest. Clenching his teeth, he grabbed my butt in two handfuls and crashed my body down on top of his. I used my weight to help, pounding.

  “Al-most there,” I groaned.

  He yanked my hair again, my scalp protesting, my sexy systems feeding off of the aggressive lovemaking.

  “Harder!” I yelled, my eyes fluttering.

  He turned over suddenly, pulling me beneath him. Large hands on the backs of my knees, he forced my legs over his shoulders. His manhood dove into my sex like a raging warrior, oh-so-deep, hitting new places with fervor. Losing my breath, everything started to condense. Pain budding, and then flowering pleasure, riddled my body. His hip joints rammed into my smooth thighs. His hard manhood plunged into my soft depths.

  “Oh god, oh god,” I repeated over and over. Clutching harder. Hanging on for dear life now. Almost … .

  “OH!” I exalted. The orgasm was so intense, it probably looked like I was being electrocuted. “Wow!”

  Stefan, breathing heavy, braced his hands on either side of me. Eyes connected with mine, he said, “Fine. I will keep you in the loop. But if I hear of you rushing into danger without me, I will not be so easily yielding.”

  “Easily yielding? You? Yeah, and Jonas sings songs in flower-filled fields. Give over.”

  A grin worked up Stefan’s face. “Huh?”

  “Never mind. Let me up. I have to shower and change. We’ll be late.”

  “I was ready,” Stefan said, pulling me up with him. “But then you accosted me. I think Jonas’ temper is rubbing off on you.”

  “Do what I say and we wouldn’t have this problem.”

  “I do what you say. Afterwards.”

  I huffed, the small kinks in my neck loosening. “Oh, and I think I found some witches that actually know how to use their magic. Far out, right?”

  “Far out?”

  “Hippy slang.” I proceeded to tell him about the four-pack of women. So unexpected, but hopefully, a great find. They just needed to learn to use their magic.

  No biggie.

  Chapter 11

  Dominicous pushed open the door slowly, wondering what kind of mood he’d find his mage in. The blood link was filled with icy determination, which was like a blind. Really anything could be kicking around the analytical and insightful blond head.

  A quiet walk through the meeting area of the large guest suite revealed no Toa. Dominicous continued to the dining area, and then the book room. Nothing. Finally, he poked his head in the mage’s bedroom.

  Blond head bowed over his clasped fingers, Toa sat on the edge of his bed, naked, eyes closed.

  “Everything…okay?” Dominicous ventured.

  “I’ve sexed my way through this house. It hasn’t taken my mind off of the crossroads we’ve landed in.”

  Dominicous stepped in slowly, keeping to the wall. “Oh?”

  “Your chosen daughter will mate that…male. He will be tied to us. I do not know if this was a stroke of luck, or the ruiner of our lives.”

  “Come now, Toa. That’s a little on the dramatic side. “ Even for you. “He’s young. He’s had some trauma in his youth that he is working through. Whatever happened today—”

  The desperation on Toa’s face as he lifted his head cut Dominicous off. “Whatever happened today…”

  The words lingered. Floating through the silent room. Bloodshot blue eyes held Dominicous. “He single-handedly took out a lower-level demon. I’ve heard that he can take out up to three Dulcha, all on his own. His speed, his power—he would beat you in a fight, Dominicous. I saw proof of that today. What’s more, with Sasha standing behind him, bracing him against his fears, his potential is limitless. Limitless, Dominicous.”

  “But, as you said, he is tied to us.” Dominicous couldn’t help the edge to his voice. He didn’t like being told he had shortcomings, even if it was just a product of Toa’s dramatic nature. Sometimes he wished Toa would only show him the refined, subtle side he showed everyone else. It’d be so much less tedious in these situations.

  “Do you not see the long-term implications, Dominicous? She is black, he is burnished gold, rising into the white with her blood. They each have special abilities that work best together. They are kismet, somehow. Made for each other. Fate has attached a chain to them, and we’ve grabbed on and are now being dragged behind them into a snake pit. We will be pushed aside so the council members, or whoever else, can get their hands on special talent.”

  “But one is human. Surely she won’t be as coveted.”

  “Oh, bah!” Toa batted the air. “Once we can link with her, she will always be coveted—she is black. And she doesn’t blink an eye at our culture.”

  Dominicous wasn’t so sure about that, but he sidestepped that landmine for now. “Well, then, it is a great thing she is my daughter, her future mate is this wonder warrior, and we are all going to the council meeting together. Rising in the ranks was always my plan, as you know, and now I have someone to govern my back. Someone willing and able. I think this, in fact, is the greatest news. You see, all you needed was a small dose of reality and a great many orgasms.”

  “What happens when he wants your mantle?” Toa accused, standing.

  “You forget,” Dominicous’ voice dropped an octave, “he doesn’t have the political know-how I do. He is young. He’s done well with this clan, but stepping up into Regional will be a giant adjustment.”

  “And what if you don’t have anywhere to step up into? Then what happens?”

  Dominicous leveled him with a glare, cutting down the excessive dramatics. “I think we will operate with the assumption that he being tied to us is a stroke of luck. I saved Fate’s vehicle. She was then given a mighty alpha with, as you say, limitless potential. Only after this was she returned to me. A collection of people, who previously had no family, are now merging together, starting with this dinner. That leg of the circle is complete. A new chapter begins.”

  “A new chapter of war. Of lies and deceit and probably the destruction of our customs.”

  Dominicous wanted to find a quiet corner and rub his temples in peace. Between the strange, though intensely humorous, personalities gathered around Sasha, and the threat of these demons, he wasn’t sure he had enough patience to handle Toa’s severe mood swings. Ever since they’d discovered Sasha was black, and also the little girl they saved, Toa had been on a Doomsday parade—planned, hosted and marched all by himself.


  “Actually,” Dominicous said, walking out of the bedroom and settling on the couch. Toa didn’t follow.

  “Actually,” he started again, “there is an interesting—”

  “What?” Toa demanded from the doorway. “You know I hate when you wander off while you are speaking to me.”

  “There is an interesting twist on today’s routine outing. We found some witches.”

  Toa drifted in, his anxiety quickly being tucked back into wherever he stored it when his intellect was fired up. “Witches?”

  “Yes. Apparently they cannot only access the elements, but Sasha noted that she found unity with them. That she joined with them, in some way. I don’t think it was an established link, but from what it seemed, it wasn’t far from.”

  Toa sat down slowly, riveted. “Explain.”

  Dominicous went over their encounter, re-explaining some nuances only Toa would find intriguing. When he was finished, Toa had yet to blink.

  “What do you think?” Dominicous asked.

  “She said she felt unity? That was the word she used?”

  Dominicous tilted his head yes.

  Toa sat back slowly and clasped his hands. “There was much talk in the old era of covens and unity. A form of sisterhood. Within these circles, as they called them, the women grew and expanded, creating a circular form of hierarchy greatly different to that of men. A matriarch would steer their united minds, much like within elephant culture. Within this protective horde, they would bind together, the strong helping the weak by bringing them into a collective whole.”

  “Synergy,” Dominicous said, finally rubbing his temples. Mood swings and now lectures. He didn’t know how Sasha did it. Toa would not sit comfortably until he had all the riddles in his environment solved, and with Sasha, there were more riddles than solutions.

  “Synergy, yes. Comes from the Greek word synergia. Meaning working together. In modern times it simply means the whole is greater than the sum of its parts. Corporations use this ideology within their vertical integration.”

  Dominicous exhaled slowly, rubbing faster.

  “I am encouraged that Sasha was able to join this magical myth,” Toa reflected.

  “Maybe it’s not a myth.”

  “Oh, I have no doubt. I just hadn’t seen the theory in practice. I am intrigued and hopeful at the same time. This could be a helping hand—a team for Sasha to grow within. Tell me, did they have any control over their magic?”

  “I think they could just call the elements. But Sasha did say one of them helped her unravel a tough spot in the spell.”

  Toa leaned forward, his attention unwavering. “Fascinating. I wish to meet them. Did you bring them back?”

  “No. Sasha travels with a group of people that keep her grounded. Their unique bond works because it isn’t confined to the strict and disciplined hierarchy Stefan has created—”

  Toa waved away the words like he might a swarm of mosquitos. “I know who guards her. They show their love through their humor or malice. What is the point?”

  “Her troupe isn’t conducive to a first greeting. The witches were intrigued but hesitant. One has children, I understand.”

  “Didn’t they just dose them and haul them back?”

  Dominicous took his fingers from his temples. “Sasha is not from our people. She has more regard for humans than…many do.”

  “Pity—oh, don’t go choosing this topic to suddenly get serious about. I agree, we need to change our philosophies with regards to humans if we ever expect to live cohesively, yes. But let’s not forget, we’ve been hunted, tortured, and burned at the stake by their hand. You still have the scars to show it, I might remind you. Suddenly making way for an inferior species, a species that is capable of more violence than we have shown at the worst of times—capable of that violence to each other no less—is a tough pill to choke down.”

  “Humans, as a mass, can be small-minded, yes, showing extreme aggression when afraid. But wouldn’t it be just as small-minded to show the same attributes? Wouldn’t you rather rise above their simpleton fears and embrace what they have to offer instead? On an individual level, humans are capable of great understanding. Shouldn’t we be, then, too?”

  Toa leveled a placating look at Dominicous. “Can we have this debate another time? I don’t have the energy.”

  “Of course,” Dominicous conceded, bowing his head slightly. “And when we have that debate, I will mention that interacting more with humans, without the use of pheromones, will help us find groups of women like these witches. It was a sort of social club. One or two do tarot—maybe they have the gift of sight. There are bound to be more. I would like to speak with Stefan and Sasha about where to possibly look. And there is the child to think of. Or children, hopefully.”

  “Do you suspect these witches you found will seek us out? They can see us—Sasha’s influence must have opened their eyes.”

  “Or possibly, actually working with the elements helped them expand their mind to take in more of their surroundings. All humans can see us if they really look.”

  “True.” Toa sat in repose for a moment, pondering. He rose slowly. “If these witches worked with Sasha as you say, then I might be able to work in a backdoor to link with her.”

  “If I were you, I would let Stefan facilitate that link. He seems to connect with her easily—to balance out her flow.”

  “I don’t trust him.”

  “Being afraid is different than not trusting.”

  Toa’s icy blue eyes shocked into Dominicous. “I am afraid because I don’t trust him. He is capable of great violence while being haunted by extreme emotional demons. That is not a great combination.”

  “Do you not remember me when you first met me?”

  “I was afraid of you, also.”

  Chapter 12

  I stepped out of the bathroom amid a cloud of hairspray. I strolled by the full-length mirror to check out my wares. Sparkly midnight blue dress, check. A lacy and intricate necklace draping down my cleavage in a shimmer of diamonds, check. Dull brown hair coated with a ton of product for a high gloss, check.

  Yup, I was rockin’ it!

  I ran my fingers along the exquisite, though probably extremely expensive, diamond necklace. Stefan had laid it on my pillow one night, asking me to wear his collar. Obviously I punched him, which he thought hilarious, but the sentiment brought tears to my eyes. It was beautiful, and what’s more, it wasn’t given because of an occasion. It wasn’t my birthday or Christmas—it wasn’t even Valentine’s Day—he’d just wanted to show his regard for me. He wanted to remind me that his job was to make sure I had everything I could possibly want. It was his way of providing for me.

  This species was brutal, violent, and barbaric at times, but man-oh-man did they know how to treat a woman. Once you went homo sacturine, you never went back.

  I paused for a moment. I was pretty sure that was their scientific name. But it was tucked into one of Toa’s long-winded explanations, so I really couldn’t be sure. People, but not humans. Male, but not man. Douche, and completely ridiculous at times.

  Although, homo meant human, so technically, they were human. Don’t tell them that, though. They’ll then lecture you on how human scientists noticed the differences in the few specimens they found, but had no answers to define those differences. At least, not before they lost their memory. And their research.

  I shook my head and headed out to the living room. If I wasn’t careful, Toa’s voice would be on a lecture loop inside my head—that’s how much I heard him speak.

  As I stepped into the living room I caught movement on the couch. I smiled in greeting, only to see the world’s ugliest crocheted quilt in the making.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked Charles. “And why can’t you choose some decent colors for once?”

  Charles’ eyebrows crawled up his forehead. “This is for a little girl. So these colors work. Little girls like green and pink, you said so yourself. And I am
sitting here because the Boss wanted to check in with Jameson about the various patrols. Everyone is expecting another demon sighting—the Boss just wants to make sure the patrols keep their eyes open and know what to look for.”

  “Uh, huh. Except, that is puke greenish-yellow, and fluorescent orange-pink. No one would want those colors, Charles. Boy, girl, your people, mine—no one. A dog maybe. Maybe a dog wouldn’t mind.”

  “Well, then,” Charles answered, unperturbed. “I’ve changed my mind. I am making this for a little dog. There. Happy?”

  “Do you know anyone that has a dog?”

  “The same number of people that I know of who have a little girl.”

  I grinned. “Let me guess—“

  “None. Exactly,” Charles cut me off. “My genius can’t just sit around and wait for someone to request a quilt.”

  “Oh, genius. Is that what you’re calling it? I can think of a couple other words.”

  “Insightful, handsome, great with his tongue…”

  I tapped my chin in mock thought. “Nope. None of those.”

  “How would you know? You never let me show you how thoroughly I dip the wick.”

  “I have someone better for that. Right? Didn’t you say you couldn’t handle Darla? And that you had no idea how Stefan did?”

  Charles gave me a pronounced shiver. “I just lost interest in this conversation.”

  “Didn’t you wonder how the Boss could go without ever—”

  “I said I was done.”

  “—giving blood? How he could keep—”

  “Seriously, Sasha, she was a black spot on my record.”

  “—her in her place? Beneath him?”

  Charles stood up and tucked his project under his arm. “Foul play. That was below the belt.”

  Chin high, Charles strolled out of the room, stray pieces of yarn dangling behind him. I couldn’t help but snicker—score a point for me. Although, now I had no one to talk to.

  As I was making my way to the window, the sky lightening with the approaching dawn, the door opened for the second time. Half expecting Jonas, because I always seemed to have one or other hanging around, I threw a glance behind me. And stopped dead.