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

by Christine Pope

  “I really don’t know.” Tarian shifted the book so she was able to cover more.

  “I ask because I deal in rare books, and I’ve never seen such an amazing specimen before. I could see the gold tipping from across the room. It’s extraordinary, as is the drawing on this page.” The man gushed the words, his dark eyes intense. “Would you be interested in selling?”

  “It’s not mine to sell.” She offered him a huge dose of curtness with a side of “go away” irritation.

  The stranger leaned in a bit and tilted his head to read the title on the page they studied. "A ritual entrapment?"

  Tarian studied his face. His eyes lit up as they traveled over what little of the page he could see. He looked enraptured and maybe a little greedy. She felt his magic tickle the back of her neck again. He was Society, so it wasn't out of line to talk to him about the real nature of this book.

  "You can read this?" She pointed to the page.

  "Of course. I've spent a lifetime studying the histories, the ancient philosophies and, of course, the language that went along with them. Such a pity it was abandoned, though I do appreciate why. In my line of work it pays to be well versed in the ancient ways. I own an antiquities store for our Society, you see.”

  "Can you translate this for us?" She didn't need a history lesson right now.

  The man pulled a chair from a neighboring table and sat down, his eyes glowing with excitement. She noticed he was very careful not to touch the pages.

  "I haven't seen such a detailed account in all my years of study. The ritual words themselves don't really need translating. They are power words, used to focus magic. Which I'm sure you already know." He pointed to the paragraph at the top. "This is a brief description of the law. A very old, very specific law. Although I suppose all laws are specific.”

  Tarian shared a frustrated glance with Daric. He had scooted back a bit to allow the man to sit down, and now he sat with his arms crossed and simply watched.

  "What's it say?"

  "Well, in English it's a bit rough, but essentially it says:

  'In accordance with policies established among the Ancients, and by the Benata and Mayfanata Courts and the Court of Balance, be it known that any Being, magic or otherwise, whose source of power includes absorption from another, shall henceforth be entrapped in half-earth until such time as there is balance among the Planes, and the Courts deem the aforementioned being no longer a threat.'”

  The man looked up at Tarian, his eyebrows crinkled. "Are you having trouble with a demon? This is from the high daemon Courts of ancient Earth. No demon has been seen on Earth in over a thousand years. That I recall. And even then, it wasn’t truly a demon.”

  "It reads like something out of Law and Order.” In fact, it sounded a lot like something Steffahn would have said. She searched her memory for anything she knew of Benata and Mayfanata Court systems. It was politics, something she tended to avoid. All she could really remember was that they kept to themselves and that they weren’t able or allowed to enter the earth plane of existence. They lived sequestered, though the reasons why were fuzzy in her memory. She knew they’d not always been separated.

  "You aren't far off. The modern court and judicial systems were founded on many of the Magic Court principals. In particular, both the British and American systems are firmly based in those traditions. Even lawyers owe their beginnings to the ancient magical court system and the code of honor, if such a thing exists among daemon, which governs their kind. Agreements or Bargains were struck between individuals or even groups for everything from land rights to slave rights to who would use a certain water well, and it was all enforced by inherent magical power and the Balance Court. It was said to be quite dangerous to enter into a pact without a lawyer, though they weren’t called that then, present, due to the convoluted nature of the bargains. Our modern contracts derived from the practice of getting it all down on parchment and signed with blood, so that both sides were bound. Of course, magical penalties were forged instead of monetary ones, but the principle is the same. And truth be told, the agreement doesn’t even have to be written down. It’s sealed the moment both sides agree to terms, as a verbal contract is just as binding, magically speaking, as a written one.” The man studied her for a moment, his gaze lingering on her in a way that made her twitch. “I apologize, I do tend to go on when confronted with history. It is my passion, as you see.” He leaned forward and looked at the page again.

  "This text…I would swear this is from one of the Laws of Species tomes, created to solidify decrees and impose binding laws. Would the title of this be the Book of Daemon, by any chance?"

  Tarian stared at him, unwilling to give him more information than he needed.

  Daric leaned in, his eyes flashing dangerously. "All we need is a little help with this particular spell. Like the lady said, the book isn't ours."

  The stranger stared back at Daric for a moment, then blinked and looked back down at the page.

  "Yes, well. If it were, it would not remain so for long. Species tomes were meant to be held by the species themselves. Which I'm sure you already know." He glanced up at Tarian. Once again she was struck by a tingle of magic along her neck. The hungry look in his eyes unnerved her. He struck her as some sort of manic history professor.

  “What do you mean?”

  A flash lit up his eyes and disappeared almost before she saw it. “Each species has ultimate control of their own laws, you see. If the laws for one species ends up in the hands of another, the consequences could be severe. So much knowledge is contained there, you understand. I would imagine, were this truly the Book of Daemon, that there are many in the daemon realm who would like to gain possession and would do practically anything to get it. You have a very valuable object here. You will not possess it long, as it’s nature is to seek out the species for whom it was written. That is, if it really is the Book of Daemon.”

  “We’re only interested in this one page. Does it say anything else?" She pointed at the page, trying her best to keep her tone polite. She needed the information, but the lecture was starting to grate on her nerves.

  The man glanced back down at the book. "The summary at the bottom of the page merely gives a few more details. You'll need a lot of power for this one. A circle of power, with a personal symbol worthy of this level of law, drawn by blood of course as that’s where the power comes from. And a close personal connection with the demon. He'll put up a fight. I'm not sure I'd attempt it, were it me. Perhaps you should appeal to the Keeper. Unless you really do have a close, personal connection. With the demon, I mean."

  Tarian smiled at him. "Thanks for your help, Mr.?"

  He returned her smile, but his body stiffened at her rejection. "Rasmussen. Nicholas Rasmussen." He held out a business card, which Daric took.

  An awkward silence among the three of them was punctuated by continued laughter from the students at the front of the cafe. She didn't want to talk to Nicholas Rasmussen anymore and didn’t want to show him any more of the book. If it had attracted his interest, there was no telling who else it would attract.

  She stared at his odd gray eyes, hoping he’d take the hint. He held her gaze for a moment, then glanced at Daric, then back down at the book. He licked his lips, as if preparing to argue his case further, but after seeing her expression he stood and cleared his throat.

  "Ah, yes, well, if you think the owner would like to sell, I’m extremely interested, and I know a buyer who will pay top dollar. Contact me anytime.”

  “Fine.” Tarian nodded. "Thanks again."

  The man hesitated for a moment, his eyes lingering on the book and then on her. He licked his lips, then smiled and left the shop.

  “Maybe I should be studying this in private.” She turned back to Daric. “Who was that guy?”

  Daric handed her the business card.

  Nicholas Rasmussen, Antiquities and Rare Books

  She felt the faintest hint of magical signature emanating fro
m the card. He had a unique texture to his power. His particular talent or skill must surround books or maybe language, or perhaps his dabbling in the old histories made him quirky. Maybe that’s what had set her nerves on edge.

  Or maybe she was just being paranoid because of her recent trip into the swamp with Sucole. Most likely, Rasmussen had sensed the power emanating from the book she studied, or her own which she didn’t mask. Power called to power. Anyone with talent could probably sense it. She just didn’t expect to run into anyone who could in the middle of Philly.

  “I shouldn't have come here with this thing.”

  “Then why did you?” Daric grinned. “Were you looking for someone?”

  “Maybe.” She grinned back, then picked up the book and hugged it close. “I need to study.”

  “We can go to my place.” Daric started for the door.

  “I have a feeling I won’t get much studying done if I do that. I’ll take it home.” She needed some time to process things, and a shower. She could still feel the joining all over her, and not in a good way. So much power. How she’d love to have more of it. Just how much she wanted it scared her. She’d never felt that…intense…about anything before. It wasn't right.

  She didn’t want Daric to know how she’d managed to get this book, at least not yet, and if she spent much more time with him, he’d find out.

  As if on cue, he narrowed his eyes. “There’s something you’re not telling me.”

  “The same could be said for you.” She held her chin high. “We all have our little secrets. We all have our own personal demons to chase.”

  “What happened with Sucole?” Daric crossed his arms. She was beginning to notice the body language he used. Crossed arms equaled pissed off.

  “Nothing. She gave me the book and showed me the spell.” She avoided his eyes. Those things could drill for oil, they were that sharp.

  “Just like that?”

  “Basically.”

  “Tarian.”

  She shifted the book over to one hip. “Look, Daric, I’m exhausted. I’ll be up all night studying this thing. You heard Rasmussen. If he’s right, I won’t have this book very long, so I need to learn this while I can. You say I need a metal container. I don’t have anything and don’t want to spend time looking for one. Can you find one I can use?”

  “I'll find one we can use. But when I deliver it, I need a full explanation. It’s important, Tari.”

  Her heart jumped again at his use of her nickname. And at the emphasis on the word “we.”

  She nodded her agreement, but it didn't make her happy. It set her stomach on edge. His opinion of her might change once he found out what she'd done to get the book. She was absolutely sure she'd made the right decision, but somehow telling someone else about it made it feel dirty. Like she'd given away something precious. But what, exactly, had she given away? It's not like it was really sex. And she felt so much stronger now that she'd had that exchange of power. She'd needed it. To fight this demon, it was worth it.

  Daric seemed to accept that he’d get the full story eventually and led the way out of the shop and into the same alley she’d been attacked in. She let him make a travel portal to the rotunda.

  “Tarian.” Daric held her arm to stop her before she stepped through.

  She waited for him to ask for details again.

  Instead, he moved in close enough that his chest brushed her arms as they clutched the book. She looked up into his eyes. Desire flared in them, which made her heart thump extra loud.

  “Daric?”

  He leaned down and brushed his lips on her forehead in a gentle kiss that melted every muscle in her body. She still tingled from her joining with steffahn, and the blend of her hormones for Daric and the left over power filled her with delicious longing. It was all she could do not to tackle him right there.

  “I’ll see you in the morning.”

  He spun her around and gently directed her into the portal.

  Damn the man, she’d rather he kissed her lips. Or maybe other body parts. That kiss on the forehead made her feel…protected. It was nice. But not enough for the rest of her.

  Chapter 28

  Tarian took dinner to her room so that she could lie on her bed and study the words in the Book of Daemon while she ate. She propped up two of the six pillows she normally used behind her and leaned against the ornate headboard, her knees bent to hold the book. Every piece of wood in the room held power, and it always helped her relax knowing she was surrounded by energy meant specifically to protect her.

  She didn’t understand the words on the page Sucole had indicated, and wasn't entirely sure how they should be pronounced. It made the task difficult, and it made her feel like she was back in school.

  She went over them until they were ingrained in the core of her being. Whatever the words meant, she could recite them, which was all she needed. Her intention was the important thing anyway. Her eyes burned and started to tear. She pushed the book to the side of the bed, let her eyes close and continued to recite the words. Over and over and over. After a while, they took on a natural rhythm, like some sort of singsong chant.

  Somehow, Steffahn drifted into the words, his face and strong arms filling her head. He smiled, but his cold eyes and haughty expression made it look smug and strangely satisfied. She sensed him gathering power, but it didn’t touch her. Then she realized it wasn’t him at all. It was Daric. He folded her into his arms and kissed her so deeply she couldn’t breathe. She protested, but he just grinned at her, the dimple on his cheek making him adorable and impossible to resist. She kissed him back, and then they were tumbling into her bed, hands all over each other, breathing heavy, sweating, pulse out of control.

  She jolted awake to an orgasm so powerful her body shook with the force of it. She’d woken in a passionate moment before, but never like this. Her groin pulsated, and the wave of pleasure that swept over her strained every muscle.

  She ran her hands over her body, encouraging the feeling to linger, but the images faded and took the sexual tension with them. Her muscles relaxed, although her lower parts still hummed.

  What a delicious way to wake up.

  She lay for a few more minutes, enjoying the sun streaming in through the window and the soothing crash of waves on the rocks below, and savoring the sensations that were quickly becoming a faint memory. Her hand stopped on her stomach. For all she knew, a child was on the way. She felt a light cramping, as though she were getting her period. But it wasn’t nearly time for that. If anything, she was mid-cycle.

  Somehow she'd thought this day was far off in the future. She'd spent most of her life avoiding the entire idea of succession and motherhood. Her value lay in her tracking ability, not in babysitting. She'd prevented magic abuse, saved countless people from tangling with Society members run amuck and even found missing children, when her mother didn’t have her in meetings or tutoring sessions. Other people's children. She'd never wanted to deal with having her own. The responsibility was too intense.

  The thought of bringing another life into the world, and being tied to that life forever, terrified her. What if she screwed it up? How could she ever live up to the ideal her mother had set? Keeper Marielle: the ultimate woman. Leader, mother, guardian. Always calm, always collected, always firmly in control of every situation.

  If Tarian were honest, she was more than a little intimidated with the idea of even trying to live up to those expectations. Her temper was short, she hated studying and meetings, couldn't stand politics and would rather be outside or in a city absorbing the sounds and smells than holding court.

  She let her thoughts drift a bit more in a basic meditation so she could connect with her power. The tracer in her neck, now that she was out of the Between, invaded her body and stole her energy bit by bit. Her power slept.

  It was a shame she couldn’t create a cocoon around herself like the Between had done for her and Steffahn. The demon wouldn’t be able to touch her, and she’d
win this little fight.

  Her pleasure from the dream evaporated. Why, exactly, had Steffahn wanted to join with her in the first place? Her mother would never have rushed into a decision like that. Her mother would have gathered all the evidence, weighed all the facts and then made a rational judgment.

  I’m not my mother.

  Tarian sighed and pushed the pillows she’d cradled in her sleep aside. Her hand hit the Book of Daemon, and she moved it closer to stare at it. The raw power that emanated from it unsettled her. It probably hadn’t been smart to sleep with it, but where could she hide it that it wouldn’t be found? Her bedroom was one of the most secure places in the House, aside from the Cellar or her mother’s private suite. Perhaps she should hide it in the archives. It would probably be impossible to find among all the other books.

  The archivists might have something to say about it though, if Rasmussen was right. They were daemon, and this book rightfully belonged to their kind. What would she give away, if she took it there? Maybe it was smarter to ask her mother to hold onto it. For now.

  She pushed the book out of the way and dragged herself to the shower. Cold water assaulted her skin, but the shock worked better than coffee to wake her up and dispel the dream. She plotted her next move as the water cascaded over her.

  She knew the words. She needed the container from Daric. The warehouse in Philly would be a good spot. It blocked magic by virtue of the concrete and steel walls. The demon’s signature was all over it, making it easy to connect with him. Plus, the demon was probably watching for her return. She’d be able to entice him there, and then before he knew what hit him, she’d have him locked up. The thought filled her with satisfaction.

  She finished the shower and got dressed as fast as possible. She needed food if she was going to have any magic power worth using. She’d lost so much already that even with the bonus Steffahn had given her, she’d have to do everything she could to maximize what was left.

  She stopped off in the kitchen for coffee and an egg sandwich, lost in thoughts of exactly how the ritual would go. She sat at one of the smaller tables in the dining hall and tried to work through every possible scenario and anticipate any need she might have.