Demons & Djinn: Nine Paranormal Romance and Urban Fantasy Novels Featuring Demons, Djinn, and other Bad Boys of the Underworld

by Christine Pope

  Next to the blonde hair book lurked a stone creature that looked like a monkey and bulldog made love and had a very ugly baby. It had a flat face, long boney fingers and big pointy ears. Its eyes were closed. She glanced around and noted several more of them on various shelves. She’d never paid much attention to them. They’d always been there, but they never responded to her.

  Below the closest monkey statue stood a table covered in books. Calliope sat there, her curly brown hair pulled back in a ponytail. Her sundress looked like a ray of sunshine in a pile of dust. A collection of leaves bathed in light from a floating green orb lay in a pile on the table in front of her. Her sister picked up one leaf, then another, and stared at both. Fascinated, Tarian started toward her, then stopped as one of the carved statues came to life, picked up a book covered in vines and scurried over to Calliope. It dropped the book on the table next to her, then crawled back where it came from and froze again.

  She tiptoed across the floor until she stood just behind Calliope. In her best vampire voice she whispered, “I vant to suck your blood!”

  Calliope squeaked and dropped the leaf she was inspecting. “Tari! You scared me!”

  “Mind telling me what Chloe sent you scampering off to research?” Tarian pulled up a chair next to Calliope and sat down. Several stacks of books lay nearby, one pile so tall it was in serious danger of falling off the table.

  Calliope frowned at Tarian, her forehead forming elevens between the eyebrows. “How’s the arm?”

  “Barely a scratch, see?” She held out her arm for inspection, and avoided her sister’s scrutinizing gaze. The back of her neck buzzed as though a bee were trapped beneath it. “Why didn’t you stay back when I told you to? You could have been hurt, Calli.”

  Tarian picked up one of the leaves and examined it. It looked like a plain old leaf. Holding it up higher, the green light shone through it and illuminated scrawled handwriting on the leaf. Fascinating.

  “You looked like someone had just slugged you, and you sounded all panicky.” Calliope turned to face her. The frown was touched by a bit of something else now. Scorn? “Asking for help isn’t a sign of weakness, you know.”

  “I didn’t say it was.”

  “You sure acted like it.” Calliope turned away to examine the leaf again. “And I don’t scamper.”

  “You do, too. If you scampered any more, you’d be a squirrel.” Tarian looked around. None of the archivists moved or twitched a stone muscle. She watched her sister read for a moment, exhaustion making her numb and slow. She sighed. “I need help, Calli. You know how to research better than I do, and I’m too tired to fight about it.”

  Calliope turned to face her again, her eyebrows raised.

  “I need Mark Chester’s last known address. He was murdered in the Cellar, but there wasn’t anything left I could use to track who did it. And I’m pretty sure his death is related to my little problem.”

  “You could have asked Frankie for that.” Calliope tilted her head sideways.

  “There’s something else, too. Frankie thought you’d be able to find out more about it here. Something happened down in the cells that I don’t understand.” She explained about the strange power she’d sensed, the red mist nobody else could see or feel, her title written on the floor.

  Calliope frowned as she listened.

  “I can start a search with the archivists, but I’d have to stop the one they’re running now. They’ll only do one query at a time.”

  “That’s a stupid rule. Why can’t they do more than one?”

  “That’s all the promised. And before you ask no, I have no idea who they made the promise to. I’m not about to waste a query to find out.”

  Calliope fiddled with one of the leaves, letting the light play on it at different angles.

  “What have you been doing?”

  Calliope glanced at her, then looked back down at the leaf. “Trying to help you. When you passed out, Mother was beyond freaked out. Chloe couldn’t wake you. We thought maybe the demon already had…” Calliope gulped. “Chloe thought maybe the archives would have information on the sort of rituals that can be done with someone’s blood. It’s not just anybody who can pull them off in the first place. It’d have to be someone with an affinity for both water and earth, which is pretty rare.”

  Tarian though back to her struggle in the alley. He’d definitely had an affinity for earth, all right. But that red mist, and the jolts he shot at her…they hadn’t been water. If she had to guess, she’d swear he had a bit of fire in him.

  Calliope placed the leaf carefully on the table and then turned to face her. “A lot of people spend their lives making sure we’re safe, Tarian. It’s not a good way to pay them back, risking yourself like you do.”

  “I never asked them to do that.” She stood up and paced, her temper spilling over. “I never asked for any of this. I didn’t exactly stand there shouting, ‘Victim here, victim here,’ Calli.”

  Calliope watched her pace with calm eyes.

  “I don’t know why the throne can’t go to you anyway. You’d actually enjoy it.” All she wanted was to use her talents in a way that benefited everyone, not sit on a throne in a house all day, away from everything useful. She wasn’t meant for this. She knew it, deep down. She was a fighter, an outdoor girl, not a Keeper.

  “That’s not the way the rules work.”

  “It’s about time someone else made the rules.” Resentment bubbled up and blended with the anger. It wasn’t rational, and it wasn’t mature, but she couldn’t help herself. “It’s about time this old-fashioned idea of inheritance was abolished. Why shouldn’t you be able to take the throne if you want it? Hell, why shouldn’t anyone?” She paced back and forth, unable to sit still.

  “Anyone like the demon, you mean?” Somehow her sister’s calmness in the face of chaos just made her even angrier.

  “Don’t be ridiculous. I mean, sure, keep it in our family; hell, keep it only for women since we’re the strongest magically. But why should we be forced to do the succession the way they say? Why can’t the child know their father? Don’t you wish you’d known him? Even a hint of who and what he was?” She took a deep breath, building up steam. “And another thing. These archivists. Why can they only answer one question at a time? I need answers to more than one question, and I don’t have time to wait.”

  Calliope watched her but offered nothing.

  “Just how the hell am I supposed to deal with all of this? Seriously, tell me how?” She threw herself down into a chair next to her sister. Calliope radiated calm acceptance. Tarian closed her eyes and drank it in, fighting the tears that threatened to spill over.

  “What’s up with you, Tari? Something’s off.”

  Her eyes popped open to drink in the knowing look on her sister’s face.

  “What do you mean? I’ve been attacked by a demon. Of course there’s something off.”

  Calliope shook her head. “More than that. Something’s different. You’re…” Calliope narrowed her eyes.

  Tarian felt her cheeks burn. She kept her eyes down, so her sister couldn’t read the truth in them.

  “Your lips look very red. Your cheeks are on fire. And your hair…you’ve been messing around, haven’t you!” Calliope laughed. “In the middle of all this, you did it. You started the ritual. Like, just now?” If her sister’s voice rose any higher she’d break the water glass sitting next to her.

  Tarian should have known she’d never keep that particular secret from her sister. Not right after it happened, when her emotions were still all tangled up. Still, it felt good to tell someone. She nodded, then looked up.

  “Who with?” Calliope’s hands flew to cover her mouth.

  “Alex.”

  “Alex? Really? Alex?” Calliope’s eyes widened yet another notch until they were giant orbs or white with liquid brown centers. “Alex. Seriously? Alex?”

  “Stop saying his name like that.” Tarian shifted some of the papers and put them i
nto a neat pile.

  “Where?”

  “What difference does that make?”

  “Just now?”

  Tarian nodded.

  Calliope giggled. “I’ve heard stories about him. All the girls in the healer’s hall love to watch him work out. How was it?”

  “Oh, Calli, a lady never kisses and tells.” Her lips stretched in a slow grin that melted the last bit of resentment and anger. She couldn’t help it. It was impossible to be in a bad mood around Calliope.

  “You’re no lady. You’re my sister, so tell.”

  “He was…a friend.” The grin faded. “I just hope he still is.”

  “Why wouldn’t he be?” Calliope looked genuinely confused, her brows wrinkled.

  “Sex changes things, Calli. Especially when it’s with someone you spent your whole life thinking of as your best friend, not your lover.”

  “Don’t worry, Tari. I’m sure it’ll be fine. He’s a good guy, and he knew what he was getting into. He knows the deal. I wouldn’t be surprised if he planned on this happening since he was a kid. He’s always had a thing for you.”

  “Really?” He’d never even tried to kiss her. Not once. Until today.

  Calliope nodded, the deep look of wisdom back in her eyes. “You just didn’t look for it.”

  “Well, whatever happens, I’m one step closer to finishing the ritual. On my own terms, not someone else’s.” All she had to do was find two more men willing to partner with her. She really wasn’t looking forward to it.

  Calliope’s face lost the giggles and amusement. “Oh, Tari, I’m sorry. This sucks. But you’ve done more than just start the ritual. You’ve freed up my question for the archivists. I can change the query. If you finish the ritual, then the demon won’t win that particular battle. We can focus on finding him, rather than stopping the Succession ritual. It’s a good thing, even if it doesn’t feel like it.”

  Tarian grinned. “Oh, it felt just fine, at the time. So, explain to me what they are answering right now, and how we can change it to help me fix this mess.”

  Chapter 13

  Calliope’s mouth lifted in a ghost of a smile. “The query they are working on right now has to do with identifying exactly who attacked you and what his talents are. I thought if we knew that, we’d be able to form a plan on how to stop him using his weaknesses.”

  The question was a fantastic one. Tarian hadn’t even thought to ask it, figuring she’d rely on her own abilities to find the demon. But if she still couldn’t track him, she’d have to find him some other way, a need her sister and Chloe had obviously anticipated. What a choice. Tarian would have asked about the red mist, but what if she were wrong, and the red mist wasn’t related at all to the demon who attacked her? She’d have wasted time and energy, things she didn’t have to spare.

  Calliope’s face softened with concern. “You look like you’ve been up for five days straight.”

  “I feel like it too.” Tarian ran her fingers through her hair. The burst of energy she’d managed to get from her tryst with Alex had long since vanished. So had the cheesesteak, which seemed a lifetime ago.

  Calliope leaned toward her and placed both hands on her arms. Warmth spread from Calliope’s hands up her arms and into her chest, along with a soothing calm. Tarian took a deep breath and closed her eyes, opening herself to the infusion of power from her sister. It was a unique talent, just like her own tracking ability. As far as she knew, Calliope was the only one in several generations who could do it.

  “Better?”

  Tarian opened her eyes. She was still tired but not exhausted. She nodded and smiled her appreciation. Calliope turned toward one of the stone creatures and held out her hand. The creature hopped up and down, causing the books to teeter, then placed his paw in Calliope’s hand.

  For a moment, the two sat there, holding each other. Tarian watched her sister’s face for any sign of the conversation the two held within their heads, but saw nothing.

  Finally, her sister broke the silence.

  “They aren’t happy about the event in the cells.”

  “Join the club.”

  Calliope released the paw and turned to her. “He wants to talk to you.”

  Seeing the concern on Calliope’s face, she took the offered paw/hand without comment.

  A small chorus of voices immediately reverberated through her head. “We have been waiting, Tarian A’marie Maitea Xannon. We expected communication.”

  “I’ve been busy. You know, with being attacked and coerced into motherhood.” She looked around, but only the one archivist showed any signs of life. Yet it sounded like at least 20 of them talking in her head, some high pitched, some low pitched, all sort of growly. Their hive mind made her feel unsettled. It was as if a thousand people could see into her soul and every nook and cranny of her mind.

  “There is no need to verbalize. We wish more detail. Please show us the events.”

  She was about to ask how, but then her mind was suddenly filled with a picture of the archives inside her head, a movie that moved in reverse. She held her breath as scenes rewound in her head and then stopped with her standing by the door of the cell. She could even feel the warmth of the air. Everything was crystal clear. What a memory! She felt each stirring of power, again felt it blast through the door and encompass her, Alex’s arms around her, and the red mist.

  When the event was done playing in her mind, it immediately went away. It was an odd feeling to have her mind suddenly blank. Her communications with the dolphins were never this vivid or as in depth. Then again, she’d never spent a lot of time trying. They seemed content to simply let her be, for which she was grateful. No demands, no judgments. Just happy to see her. Her, not the Scion.

  “We sense a demon tracer within you. Please show us acquisition.”

  A surge of irritation flowed through her at the words. How could they know? Before she could object, her mind leapt to the scene in the alley. Her encounter with the demon played back in slow motion. Every excruciating detail, from the bum in the alley to the scrape down her arm to their struggle. She didn’t think her memory had ever been this good. The image faded as the lizard man dissolved. Her thoughts were her own again.

  “This we feared. Shield is clever, but will not hold. This results from imperfect understanding.”

  “Care to explain?” Her stomach tightened, and her hand formed an involuntary fist around the tiny paw. Her brain felt violated.

  “The power signature belongs to one type of being only. This requires more study.”

  “Does that mean you don’t know what caused it?”

  “It does not. We know the source. We do not know how it was possible.”

  “Can you tell me the source?” She had a hard time keeping the frustration out of her voice.

  “Youth requires patience. And understanding.”

  “Yes, understanding is what I seek right at this moment. And I don’t have time to be patient.”

  “The source is demon. This requires more study.”

  Her hand around the archivist’s small paw tightened. She was right. The demon who attacked her also killed Chester. It was a start.

  “What’s his name? Where is he now?”

  Mutters filled her head. Some angry, some patient, all mixed and jumbled until she couldn’t make complete sense of them. One thought stood out stronger than the rest. They didn’t want to answer her question.

  “This demon threatens my family, my friends, this house, the Society, everything. I’m trying to protect people. Even if I manage to complete the ritual, the child won’t be born before he gains control of me. I need to track him.” Panic filled her at the thought of the demon having control over an unborn child on top of everything else. Her child. The next Scion. Her stomach clenched.

  She felt her sister stiffen beside her at this speech. Somehow she couldn’t manage to make herself think the words, rather than say them aloud. Calliope heard only half the conversation, but it was mor
e than enough.

  “Dolphin ritual has already begun.” An image of her and Alex in the shower flashed through her mind. Her cheeks heated. She hoped Calliope couldn’t tell she was blushing.

  “Never mind that. Will it harm me to track him?”

  “His power differs from Scion’s. He is demon. Scion is not. His tracer prevents acquisition of his signature.”

  No wonder her previous attempt gave her a headache. The demon must have known she could track, and had prevented it before she knew she needed to. Score one to him. How was she going to find him without being able to track him? Her shoulders sank.

  The one thing that had never let her down was her own magic, her own power. She’d been born with it, and it was as natural as breathing. Now she was just supposed to abandon it? How could she be stronger than her magic?

  “Scion cannot abandon who and what Scion is.”

  “Hey, I wasn’t talking to you.” She pondered the information. His power differed from hers. That much she’d figured out on her own. But could she beat him in a fair fight? “How is his magic stronger than my own?”

  The arguing in her head after such a simple question filled her with curiosity. She’d struck a nerve. Interesting.

  “Difference and strength are not equal. Strength is measured by more than magic.”

  “All magic came from demons. He’s a demon. What does that make you? Or me?”

  “He is not WE. He is other. Daemons are the Source. Daemons belong to the Universe, and the Universe to Magic. All are one. Daemons are magic. Demons are not.”

  They emphasized the pronunciation. “Day-muns.” Not “dee-mons.” For the thousandth time, she wished they’d stop talking in riddles and just say what they meant.

  “Understanding comes with knowledge and time. Daemons are the Source. Demons are other. Constructs of society and imperfect understanding, greed, pride, fear. A blend of human and daemon which should not exist. Understanding requires study.” Voices in the background echoed the thought until she saw a picture of Calliope, bent over books, reading. Her sister had always been the one to study and read. Tarian preferred the arena and the outdoors. They were right. She lacked understanding.