The Demon's Possession

by Kiersten Fay

  She remembered the vision of the old man, materializing before her, and sometimes speaking—at the time she thought it nonsense—about her becoming free one day. But now that she thought of it, it wasn't nonsense after all. She was free. Whether she held on to her freedom, remained to be seen.

  Absently, she said, “But this is nothing like isolation. Your people are together, talking and laughing, and working. There are rooms dedicated to entertainment and exercise. There is so much to do here. This feels nothing like being isolated.”

  “Some people might not see it your way. Some would get easily bored without seeing new sights or meeting new people.”

  She rolled her eyes at that. “Honestly, if I can go decades without even seeing the stars, anyone should be able to handle a few months without the luxury of new sights or people.”

  “They kept you that isolated?” Marik replied.

  Dammit! She was doing that damn talking-without-thinking thing again.

  “That's why everything seems so new to you?” Sebastian’s tone went empty, but his grip tightened around his glass.

  Cale said nothing, but his expression had gone dark.

  Sonya unwittingly saved her by plopping down on an empty chair. “I'm closing up shop, you guys want anything else?”

  “Yes,” the three replied in a nearly unified voice.

  Anya stood, taking their gazes with her. “Not me, I'm tired,” she said, using the opportunity for escape. “I'll see you in the morning, Cale.”

  Chapter 10

  Anya entered her room.

  On the way from the pub, she’d wondered at Sebastian's next scheme. Perhaps he'd ripped up the floor of her room, or flooded it. She expected almost anything…except what she found.

  A large mustard colored couch stood in place of the old one.

  Running her hand along the back, she found it was soft and looked as though new. Bewildered, she tested the cushions, burrowing her body into their softness. The plushy fabric formed neatly to her curves.

  Why he'd done this, she didn't know. At the moment she didn't care. Like a siren's call, the softness of the couch was lulling her to lie her body down. She was exhausted from the day's events. Every muscle screamed at her, and her emotions were still a little raw.

  During training, when she tapped into her anger, her mind lost control and threatened to delve into madness from the wretchedness of her memories. As always, she was tempted to embrace the madness, but, as always, something was there to keep her from it.

  This time it was Bastian. He’d held her tight, enveloping her in his comforting strength and masculine scent. All she could do was hold on to him until the turmoil inside her abated. His muscular arms drew her to him, warming her, pulling her out of her insanity, making her feel safe.

  When she was fully herself again, embarrassment had flooded her. Had there been pity in their eyes? She didn't want their pity. She wanted them to think of her as strong and capable. Like someone who could take care of herself.

  She wanted to see herself that way too.

  That's why she would continue to train with Cale, not because Bastian ordered her to, but because it would benefit her in the end. She would learn all she could, and would never lose control as she did today.

  Her body ached, and her lids grew heavy. Before she passed out, she forced herself into the shower to let the warm water relax her further.

  The kindness everyone was showing her was overwhelming, filling her up with so much appreciation and gratitude, until she overflowed with it.

  She suspected Bastian knew the dangerous position she'd put them in, and still he was kind to her. Was even allowing her training so she could one day defend herself, as well as a job that would bring her money after she left Marada. Why was he giving her so much when she could give nothing in return, besides a constant threat to all of their lives? The guilt sat like a clump of iron in the pit of her stomach.

  Showered and dressed, Anya reentered her room. Steam poured from the bathroom, dissipating into nothingness. The contrast of the cooler air slammed into her, and she rushed to curl up on the couch, blanket and pillow in place.

  This new couch was much larger than the previous one, allowing her to stretch out fully instead of scrunched up like on the old one. Sinking in, Anya let herself drift.

  * * *

  ——

  * * *

  Once again, Anya woke to a darkened room. Lifting herself from the couch, she scouted for Sebastian. The room was empty, and no dark shadows loomed ominously in the corners. Disappointment gripped her. She was hoping to thank him.

  Ignoring the pang of wistfulness, she prepared to meet Cale in the training room. She made her way past the nursery. Beautiful mixtures of smells and energy licked at her skin. The lively vegetation from within called to her. With only a quick peek inside, she walked past.

  Cale was standing in the same spot as yesterday. Anya smiled and greeted him warmly. He only nodded, which she thought, for him, was like a twirling-hug-embrace.

  “We're going to practice some of the holds from yesterday. Don't hold back. Try as hard as you can to get free.”

  Shooting past her guard for the umpteenth time, Cale was behind her in an instant. His arm wrapped tightly around her neck. He squeezed, hard. The strength of his grip told her that he wasn't going to hold back either. After a moment of hesitation, Anya found his foot with her heel.

  He stumbled back, taking her with him, but showed no other signs of discomfort. He still had a tight hold on her neck. Stomping again she caught his toe, then immediately elbowed him in the stomach.

  Still he held tight.

  “You're not trying. Do I have to give you some incentive?” His grip tightened, cutting off her lungs. Gasping for air, her heart lurched. Cale wasn't playing. Had he decided that she was a liability? As she struggled and clawed at his arm, Cale's voice remained calm. “Keep your wits, think logically. You only have a minute or two before the lack of air will cause you to pass out, precious moments to make a quick lifesaving decision. Just keep your focus and think.”

  She couldn't breathe! That was all she could think about. Distressed, she struggled harder, fighting for air.

  Think.

  Cale's words from yesterday echoed in her head. Bring a man to his knees.

  He would be expecting it, though.

  She felt the slow leaking of darkness fill her as her lungs screamed in her chest. Raising her leg, Anya feigned another kick to his foot. He took the bait. While he was focused on moving his foot, she crashed her fist back as hard as she could. It worked better than she had anticipated.

  Cale's grip fell away, allowing her to fling her body out of his reach. He'd fallen to one knee and visibly struggled for breath, clutching himself. Anya heaved, sucking in air as hard as she could. Her vision began to clear. Cale's agony came into view.

  In a fit of regret, she dropped beside him. “I'm sorry.”

  He ground out, “Why are you apologizing? I was strangling you. You did as I asked. Nice move, by the way.” His scowl and grating tone contradicted the compliment.

  “Thank you. I don't like hurting people who have been nice to me.”

  “Then why would you feel bad about hurting me?” He stood as though he had recovered, but Anya could still sense his pain. His voice had lowered to a deep mater-of-fact tone. “I've shown you no kindness.”

  “Yes you have. Maybe the least of anyone here, but still…in your own way, you and everyone on this ship has shown me more compassion than I've ever known. I am so…it's…too much sometimes. Overwhelms me.”

  Cale pinned her with a heavy stare.

  “Besides, you're teaching me to defend myself. No matter if you are awful to me for the rest of my time here, that is something I will forever be grateful for.”

  During her speech, he had become quiet, unreadable. Void of emotion. Do all demons have that ability?

  “Next you'll learn some combination moves,” he said, as if he hadn't
heard a word she'd just spoken. Analia had a feeling this was his way of keeping people at a distance. His energy said he wanted to remain closed off from those around him, almost dead to the world.

  For most of her life, that was what she wanted too. Many times she had been able to recede into the back of her mind, often feeling completely detached from her body, while life continued without her. For weeks, sometimes months, she could stay that way—unfeeling and, in a way, free. But, unfortunately, not forever. She always came back to reality.

  Pushing her thoughts away, Analia faced Cale, waiting for the next lesson.

  * * *

  ——

  * * *

  This damn endless space.

  Marada was moving at a steady pace. Soon they would be approaching the warring zones.

  After Anya had offered her preference for the warring zones, Sebastian knew he needed to be on guard for whoever might come after her. He almost wanted them to come, so he could destroy them thoroughly and with much pain. But this job, which he now regretted taking, was like an ever-present burden he couldn't get rid of quick enough. It was taking too long and stealing precious time he could be using to find Anya a safe place to hide while he hunted down those who would do her harm.

  No one in, no one out. Fucking wards.

  It would be months before he could track down the male whose guts he wanted to squish between his fingers. Whose pulse he wanted to feel quicken with fear before it faded into agony. Whose pleas for mercy he wanted to laugh at before he ripped his head from his neck.

  Soon.

  Whoever this person was had kept Anya isolated, treating her only gods know how. Not as she should be treated, that he knew for sure. Somehow, amazingly, she remained kind and gentle. How she could be, after the life she led, he didn't know. She should be jaded and full of deep-seated rage like Marik had been. Like Marik still was.

  Of course, deep down, Anya did have some rage. Cale had been so shocked by her outburst that he seemed at a loss of what to do, backing away from a fight for the first time ever.

  Sebastian chuckled at that. Cale will never live it down, as far as Sebastian was concerned.

  But then she'd collapsed, utterly consumed by her sorrow. She’d looked so fragile. Sebastian had been able to do nothing but hold her as tight as he could in an unpracticed attempt at providing comfort. She had stiffened in his arms as though the gesture was foreign to her as well; most likely it was. But after a moment, she’d softened and leaned into him. Holding her like that, feeling her in his arms, instantly became as natural as breathing. In that moment, he thought he could have held her forever.

  Thinking of her now made him wonder what she might be doing. A glance at the time told him she'd be training with Cale.

  Should I be there?

  “Captain,” Aidan called, interrupting his thought. “We've crossed over. We are officially within the warring zone.”

  Sebastian refocused his thoughts. His crew was counting on him to keep them safe. He needed his mind on the task at hand. “Keep all sensors open for approaching ships,” Sebastian replied. “All weapons remain online at all times until we pass through.”

  “Yes, Captain.”

  “Engage shields, full power. Aidan, get us the fuck through this quickly and untouched.”

  “Got it, Captain.”

  Aidan was the ship’s lead pilot, and a damn good one at that. Such a young male, yet his skills were that of a veteran three times his age. He was a descendant of the dragon clans, and nearly all dragons had an affinity for flight. Aidan had made a name for himself by navigating Phase Nine when he was only in his twenties.

  Phase Nine was a racing competition created by the twelve allied planets. Anyone from any race was invited to enter for the glory and honor of their people. The obstacles were deadly, and everyone who entered knew for certain that not all would return alive. Aidan not only returned, but he had been declared the winner.

  His win had been bittersweet, however. Aidan's wife and child had been slaughtered in a random act of violence while he was away. He hadn't learned of the tragedy until he returned home in victory.

  Aidan never raced again, but the only thing he knew was flying, so he'd eventually found his way to Marada. Sebastian was grateful for his presence. There was no one better to get them through this long journey.

  * * *

  ——

  * * *

  Analia was almost finished with her shift. Marik was busy in the galley with three full tables of orders she'd given him. Over the last few days he'd shown concern for her, questioning her about each session with Cale. Every day, she reassured him that she was fine and the training was going well.

  Sebastian didn't appear in her room again. Nor did he attend lunch or indulge in a drink. In fact, she hadn't seen him since that night at the bar. Now that she was settled in, he was leaving her to the care of the other three demons.

  Many people continued to pour into the salon. However, the invasive interrogations had eased, melding seamlessly into the pleasures of idle chitchat. The two young girls, Spectra and Edenya, often came to share gossip with her. They loved to speak of the many places they'd visited in their lives, and would repeat the names of planets or space cities she should visit. Anya would smile and listen with politeness and assured them she would try her best to go everywhere they suggested, knowing she most likely never would.

  It didn't matter if there were a thousand perfect places in the universe, she only needed one. One perfect…home.

  Xandar entered the salon and waved at her. A crafty grin curled his lips. He motioned with his head for her to join him as he claimed an empty table.

  “Hello, Anya. How is your day going?” he asked, eyes sparkling.

  “It’s going just fine. What would you like to order? Marik has been working on a slow-cooked roast for today. It is very excellent.”

  “I actually didn't come here for lunch. I came to ask you if you would be my date for a party that's coming up.”

  She searched her memory for his meaning. Date, she knew, meant a specific day. A party was a celebration. She'd never been to one before. His phrasing perplexed her.

  Her confusion must have been visible because he reiterated, “I mean, I would like you to accompany me to the party, as my date.”

  “Date,” she repeated. “Meaning, to join you in celebration?”

  “Yes.” He paused. “Well, sort of. There's a little more to it than that.”

  She waited expectantly.

  He scratched the back of his neck. A nervous reaction? “Well, we would spend the evening together talking and maybe dancing. There would be drinks and food and we would get to know each other better.”

  Dancing? “I have never danced.” Though she had always wanted to.

  “That's okay. We don't have to dance. I'm not much of a dancer myself.”

  “No, I would like to dance.”

  “Then we'll dance.” His grin was catching. “All night, if you want.”

  Anya laughed. “Okay, I'll go with you to this celebration. When is it to take place?”

  “A few days, I think. I'll let you know when I find out for sure.” He rushed from the room before she could ask any more questions.

  Shrugging, she entered the galley to clean a little before she left for the pub. “Marik, have you ever been a…date? Or is that only a word for a female?”

  Marik went tense and turned to her with a questioning look. “It's a general term. Why are you asking?”

  “Xandar said there's to be a celebration, and he asked me to be his date.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “How the hell does he know? It hasn't even been announced.” Cursing under his breath, Marik shook his head. “That little shit must have overheard…” Trailing off, he pinned her with a glare. “Did you say yes?”

  She cocked her head. “Did I make a mistake?”

  “No. No you didn't do anything wrong.”

  Analia didn't believe him. He looke
d worried. She opened her mouth to inquire more, but he quickly shooed her out the door.

  “I'll finish up here. You should get to the pub. Ask Sonya for date advice. I don't have all that much experience to offer.”

  “Sonya has experience?”

  “Uh…” He shrugged. “Doesn't matter, she'd still have better advice for you than I would.”

  Anya didn't understand, but she went anyway. Marik's agitation seemed to grow the longer she stayed. She couldn't fathom what her mistake had been. Perhaps Sonya could enlighten her.

  * * *

  ——

  * * *

  As Sonya filled drink orders, she happily replied to Anya's question. At first she'd been startled that Anya was asking about dating, but then she felt relieved that Bastian had finally accepted his attraction to the girl.

  “A date can be a lot of things. People go on dates to get to know each other, or to find a connection, or to just be with the other person because you're attracted to them. Sometimes you get dressed up, depending on the occasion.” After lining up four shot glasses, Sonya filled them in one clean swoop. She loved her job. “Why are you asking about this? Did someone ask you out?” she edged, expecting to get all the details about the way Sebastian had asked Anya.

  “Xandar asked me to be his date…”

  Sonya slammed the bottle on the bar, eyes riveted to the brimming shot glasses. “Did he?” That little bastard must have overheard them talking the other day. She had suggested that they throw a party for Anya, explaining that Anya had never celebrated a birthday, had probably never even celebrated anything. Their natural male reactions were shrugs, grumbling, and finally compliance.

  “Marik was unhappy about this as well. Why?” Anya asked.

  “Oh, hon, we're not unhappy. We're just surprised, I guess.” And a little worried, Sonya added to herself. Bastian was going to go ballistic when he hears. “Do you like Xandar?”