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

by Christine Pope

  “I don’t know.”

  Advisor Jonus approached the table with a stiff back and a neutral expression painted on his face.

  “Your mother will be here momentarily, at which point dinner will begin.”

  A gong sounded, followed by a melodious male voice.

  “Keeper Marielle A’Tania Erlea Xannon. Leader of the Society in the American Region. Keeper of the Dolphin Throne.”

  Polite applause broke out among the assembled men. Her mother sailed gracefully through the side door and over to the head table in a cream gown embroidered with gold trim. It was modern and sleek, with one shoulder bare. The Keeper could have been her sister, rather than her mother.

  “One of yours?” Tarian looked at her sister.

  Calliope nodded and flashed a proud smile.

  “Well done. It’s fabulous.”

  Her mother paused next to both of them, then greeted Tarian with a tight-lipped kiss to the cheek before placing her lips near Tarian’s ear. “You might fight the leaders and tradition, but you can’t fight the magic of the throne. One way or another, the ritual will be fulfilled. The House will have an heir.”

  “Is that what the throne is doing? Choosing for me? And exactly how will it get me to follow through with the rest of it?” Tarian looked out over the crowd. She saw a slight glow around Alex. The rest seemed to have dissipated in the crowd. Had the throne marked any others, or was it waiting for her to decide? Or was it merely an acknowledgment that Alex already participated in the event?

  “I think you’ll find that, in the end, you’ll want to and that it’s not the burden you imagine. In all other ways, the throne is a tool for us to use. But for this, we are the tool.”

  She leaned in to whisper in her mother’s ear. “I’m taking care of things my way. I don’t have time to wait for the process.”

  Her mother drew back, startled. She glanced at the throne, then out to the crowd.

  “I see.” A ghost of a smile played across her lips before she turned to greet Calliope with a warm hug before taking a seat on the Dolphin Throne.

  Tarian had never felt so resentful of a piece of furniture.

  She sat next to her mother and looked around at the dining table. Everyone was talking, laughing and having a good time at her expense. The kitchen staff moved swiftly as they served a small bowl of soup. It smelled of pumpkin and spice, and provided a distraction that she welcomed. She raised the spoon to her lips, then paused as she noticed one man in the crowd with his face turned toward her instead of his soup bowl. Well, well, well. Victor Aiello had answered the call. Her gaze met his, stare for stare, over the soup spoon. After a moment, he dipped his head as a greeting and smiled. Tarian nodded at him in return.

  She looked down at her spoon. It was unnerving, being stared at that way. He looked…hungry. Had the throne issued some sort of aphrodisiac into the crowd? As if they’d need one.

  Tarian looked back at the crowd. Victor continued to stare. His lips curled in amusement in a lazy sort of way. She pointedly looked in another direction, hoping he’d take the hint.

  “Is that who I think it is? Wasn’t he arguing with Mother?” Calliope picked up the bowl of soup with both hands and sipped.

  Tarian nodded. “Victor Aiello.” She looked down at her soup again. “He keeps staring. I feel violated.”

  “He’s not the only one.” Calliope took another sip of soup. “Look to the left, over by the door.”

  Tarian casually glanced toward the door. Daric Voltain. He’d changed out of his T-shirt and jeans into a black knit thing that didn’t hide a muscle on his chest. When he caught her looking, he chuckled and his dimple winked at her. She raised an eyebrow at him, and in return he raised his glass in a silent toast. Even from this distance, she could appreciate the way he was put together. Her thigh muscles tightened in anticipation of spending some quality alone time with him.

  “Figures.” She looked back down at her soup, making little circles in the liquid with a spoon.

  “Who’s that?”

  “Daric Voltain. He helped me check out Chester’s house tonight.”

  “You didn’t tell me he was so hot looking. He’s staring at Victor, I think, instead of you, now. Who, by the way, is still staring at you.”

  “When did my life get to be so complicated?” She asked the soup, not expecting an answer.

  “It always was. You just didn’t take the time to notice.” Her sister nudged her with a shoulder. “ Change doesn’t have to be painful, you know. There are worse problems than picking which hot guy to have sex with.”

  “Really? Like killing a demon? I agree.”

  “I didn’t mean that.” Calliope blushed and took another sip of soup.

  A serving girl took away Tarian’s soup untouched, leaving in its place a small plate with appetizers of various types on it.

  “What’s the point of this dinner?” Tarian asked as she stared at the plate.

  “You’re supposed to meet and mingle with the Potentials. I think it’s so you don’t feel so awkward, you know.” Calliope cleared her throat.

  “It’s not working. I’ve never felt more awkward in my life. This feels like such a waste of time. I’ve already started the ritual on my own. I don’t have time to wait for them to go through the motions.” She fought to keep the panic out of her voice. The walls inched toward her. The room swirled lazily around her, and the smell of fried things turned her stomach. “I only have five days left. I can’t spend them sitting here doing nothing. I’ve had enough.”

  She jumped up, nearly knocking the chair over in her haste.

  “Tarian?” Her mother looked up at her, concern and irritation at war on her face.

  “I need to get some air.”

  She left by the side door before anyone could stop her, and then stood taking deep breaths in the utility corridor to the kitchens. Workers scurried past, carrying plates and pitchers. More than one glanced her way with a mixture of curiosity and awe. It was the outfit. She was such a fraud. They had no idea. She might be Scion, and she might have magical power, but the demon was stronger. Deep down, she knew it. She’d known it since he sliced through that shield. They had no idea that their Scion couldn’t protect herself, let alone anyone else.

  The door behind her opened, and Advisor Jonus hurried out. He slowed when he saw her. “Scion, it’s time for introductions.”

  “Are you a robot or something? You can’t possibly be human.”

  “It’s not as overwhelming as it may seem right now. Although the room is full of applicants, they won’t all be selected. The vetting process begins in the morning, in front of a committee made up of leaders all across the region. No more than twelve will make it through that process. And you, of course, will select the final three.”

  “Gee, that’s good to know. I don’t even know why you bother with this charade. Might as well line them all up right now and have me spread my legs. Don’t you get it? None of this matters.” Her voice echoed off the walls.

  “I understand far more than you give me credit for. I know what you are facing, and I know how you feel about this ritual, but the fact remains that it has been called and will proceed regardless of other circumstances or desires. We must, by law and tradition, continue with the steps. You must participate. There is no other option.”

  “Seems to me like there is another option. Our house is under attack. I’m under attack. And all you can think about is introducing me to a bunch of strangers?” She turned away from him. “I won’t put other people in danger, not even them.”

  She heard him take in a breath and looked back. Anxiety and frustration competed on his face. What did he have to be so upset about? It was her body!

  “Scion, what are you planning?”

  “Wouldn’t you like to know?” She pushed past him and stalked down the hallway. She wasn’t going to admit that she didn’t have a plan.

  She turned the corner and entered the rotunda, so focused on her anger that she
didn’t see a man standing in her way until she’d plowed right into him.

  Chapter 19

  Tarian caught a whiff of musk as strange arms circled her in an effort to keep them both upright. Her face planted into a broad chest, and they both struggled for balance. She tried to pull away while he tried to steady her in a clash of arms and feet. By the time she regained her composure, her fingers had curled into fists and she was ready to hit him.

  He covered her fist with one large hand, and his magic tickled the hairs on her arm and in her nose. The knot at the back of her neck warmed slightly. She’d only met a few men with this much latent power, and Daric was one of them. A strong magic signature was unusual in men, but this wasn’t Daric. She looked up.

  Victor Aiello looked down at her. The smile that crawled across his face matched the triumphant gleam in his eyes. She jerked her hand away.

  “Tarian, I’m glad I caught you.” His teeth were perfectly straight and absurdly white. He was a prime candidate for a toothpaste commercial or government office. “I was afraid after you rushed out that I might not get a chance to apologize for my behavior. How are you feeling?” His eyes traveled down her arm and fixated on the scar.

  She covered it with her hand, and then crossed her arms for good measure. “I’m fine.”

  Victor raised his eyebrows. “You seem a bit put off by the event tonight.”

  She shrugged. “Who wouldn’t be?”

  “Agreed. It does seem antiquated, as you said. Still, if I can help in any way, you’ll let me know? Perhaps we can have coffee, get to know each other?”

  “Why?” Tarian studied him. Charisma dripped off him. This was a man used to getting his own way, probably by stroking egos of men and flirting with women.

  Victor smiled, his lips moving in a seductive sort of way. “I’d love to get to know you under less trying circumstances. Even if I’m not a final candidate, you are my Scion. I would like to know my future leader better.”

  The way he spoke, with his head tilted slightly and his shoulder squared, made Tarian think he had no doubt he’d be a finalist, and selected as one of the ones to take her to bed. He had power, status, and obviously money, everything needed to hold a leadership position and earn the right to argue with her mother about…whatever it was.

  “You don’t seem to like how my mother runs things, Victor. What makes you think her daughter will be any different?”

  Victor’s face clouded and cleared so quickly she thought she might have imagined it. “Parents always seem to think they know what’s best for their children, don’t they? But even parents can be wrong.”

  “What about you, Victor? What were your parents wrong about?” She watched his face, but whatever had darkened his eyes was gone.

  “They thought the status quo was good enough, that’s all. I’m much more forward thinking. Change is difficult but sometimes necessary, wouldn’t you agree?”

  “Maybe. If it’s the right sort of change.” She found herself studying his lips. They were soft, but a bit twitchy.

  “And just what sort of change would you like to see, Scion?” Victor’s voice, barely a whisper, drifted to her on the air along with his musky power signature. “Would you like to make a difference in the world? Would you like to have a child destined to rule? Or would you like to step back and let someone else take the reigns?”

  The words hit home in so many ways. Tarian stared, mesmerized by them and Victor’s eyes. He’d struck a nerve at the very center of her doubts. She found herself leaning toward him, without consciously trying to. There was something very…interesting…about this man.

  Movement behind Victor caught Tarian’s attention and broke the spell. The Receiving Hall doors, opened by two Sentinels, creaked loudly in the empty rotunda and broke the spell. Tarian blinked, then stepped back.

  Victor glanced at the doors, then turned back with a hand outstretched. “Scion, I’m taking far too much of your time this evening. I know it’s been a stressful situation for you.” His smile stretched all the way to his hairline and crinkled his eyes as she shook his hand. He leaned in closer to her, both hands covering hers in a familiar, fondling grip. “Meet me for coffee. Perhaps I can help you with your situation.” His gaze flicked down to her arm, then released her.

  Animated voices and the sound of chairs scraping against the floor drifted through the open doors.

  She saw something flicker through his eyes. Anger? No. More like determination.

  “I’ll show myself out. Tarian, it was a pleasure. Think about my offer. Contact me anytime.” Victor smiled, then turned and strode toward the entry.

  Well, he certainly didn’t lack confidence. She stared after him. He was cool composure and fashion, bundled up with a magic string.

  Voices behind her erupted into a flood of men. Dinner, it appeared, was over. They quickly engulfed her in small talk, each one trying to shake her hand and give his name. Faces, names, body scents, magical signatures and an undercurrent of desperation surrounded her.

  It took a few moments to realize the desperation was all her own.

  Every time she tried to escape, another man stopped her. She glimpsed Advisor Jonus in the crowd pushed her way toward him with the thought of telling him off. He had to have opened the doors on purpose. By the time she made it halfway to her destination, he was gone.

  In exasperation, she planted both feet, crossed her arms and painted a “go away” expression on her face. She saw a few hesitate, but most weren’t deterred. She was the star of the moment, whether she wanted to be or not. All these men wanted a piece of her. Literally. Resentment burned in her chest. It was one thing to offer herself to a man in the heat of passion. It was quite another to be forced to procreate for the good of the masses. It was a violation. It was primeval.

  It was really bad timing.

  The tension in her shoulders reminded her of exactly what she should be doing, and it wasn’t fending off men rutting around for a chance to spread their seed.

  As the crowd thinned, she caught sight of Daric Voltain. He leaned against the receiving hall door with that damn dimple displayed without shame or apologies. She couldn’t help looking at him in between each male body that demanded attention, or her hand, or a kiss. His eyes danced as he watched her fend off each suitor. When she finally managed to push off the last Potential, she confronted him with all the righteous indignation she could muster.

  “I’m glad the whole situation amuses you.” She crossed her arms. Her forehead hurt from maintaining a frown for so long.

  “You should see your face. You look like you just ate something sour. Then again, maybe you did. I take it from your display in the dining hall that the Call was not your idea.”

  “Of course not. What woman in her right mind would have set up something like this?”

  “I believe, if you check the histories, that it actually was set up by a woman. She had her reasons at the time, I’m sure.”

  “I’d like to give her a few reasons why she can kiss my ass.”

  “I’m not sure you appreciate the culture of this area. Years ago, women picked among multiple partners to join them at night. Marriage, commitment, is a modern affliction. I’m sure the current rules are nothing more than a reflection of every day life as it was then. Which doesn’t sound half bad, actually. At least from a woman’s point of view.” Daric paused. His lips twitched as he surveyed her outfit. “You clean up good.”

  His eyes might as well have been lasers. They created heat as they studied her body until she was sure her face was scorching red.

  “You clean up fast.” He did look damn good in the tux he wore.

  “It’s odd timing, don’t you think? The Call, just after you’ve been injured?” Daric glanced down at her arm.

  It wasn’t odd at all. The throne had reacted to the threat on her; that was all. But she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of knowing that. “How did your visit to that family go?” Anything to distract him from the
subject of that damn ritual.

  “I was unavoidably delayed.” Daric moved until he stood close enough that she could feel the heat from his body blending with her own. “I found something that needs investigating. I was hoping you’d join me.”

  “I have other things I need to take care of, Daric. Besides, weren’t you the one who left in a huff over my risk taking?”

  “I’m asking for your help. I’ll be there to mitigate the risks, and I think I can help you formulate a plan of attack.” He simply stood there, his eyes burning a path into hers, his breath caressing her cheek and his body heat melting the tight knots in her stomach.

  She put her hands on his chest to push him away, but instead of pushing she found herself leaving them there to absorb the warmth. He put his hands over hers, and the lower part of her body melted. She wondered if he could tell. She hoped not.

  “I wouldn’t ask, because I know what it will cost. But I need to track a child who’s in danger, and you’re the only one I know with that talent. And I believe this is tied to your own issues. We might be able to kill a few birds, or maybe a demon, with one stone, so to speak. And save a girl at the same time.” Somehow, he made the entire statement sound like an invitation for something that involved sheets and low lighting.

  A cough behind her caught her attention, and she looked back over her shoulder. Alex stood near the hallway, his gaze fixed on Daric in a stare full of malice.

  Tarian pulled her hands back, but not before Daric pushed a piece of paper into her hand. She slipped it into her pocket without looking at it.

  “Get something to eat because I’m pretty sure you didn’t bother in there. You need your strength. But don’t wait too long.” He took her hand and kissed it, keeping his eyes on hers the entire time. She found it strangely seductive and tried to ignore the warm wave traveling from the back of her hand and up her arm as she ripped her hand away.

  “This outfit suits you a lot better than the leather pants, but I like the jeans the best.” He winked at her, then created a portal and stepped through.