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

by Christine Pope

  “Something wrong?” Her mother, dressed impeccably in a cream pantsuit, her hair up in her traditional bun, sat down next to her, a cup of tea in her hands.

  "Good morning." Tarian offered a brief smile to her mother, and then took a bite of the sandwich to hide her scrambled thoughts. She hadn't planned what to say, about the book or her mission today. She wasn't ready for the conversation.

  However, by the look on her mother’s face, the Keeper had obviously already planned on having one.

  "How was Sucole?" Her mother's eyes searched her face.

  "Every bit as annoying as you anticipated." Tarian looked down at her coffee.

  "Did she have what you needed?" Marielle took a sip of tea, her voice so casual they might have been discussing the weather.

  "Yes." She hesitated.

  "What did she ask for in exchange?"

  Tarian looked up into her mother's eyes. How had she known?

  Marielle smiled and took another sip. "Tarian, nobody lets go of something that valuable without getting something in exchange. The question is, what price did she demand?"

  Tarian looked back down at her coffee. She took a sip. Then another.

  How was she going to say this to her mother?

  "I take it the price was…steep?"

  "You could say that. It…" Tarian swallowed. "It wasn't her price. It was someone else's."

  "Oh?" Marielle held the teacup like this was just two girls enjoying a chat over their morning breakfast.

  How could her mother be so calm?

  "It turned out the one holding the book was a daemon named Steffahn, of the Mayfanata. I…dealt…with him."

  Marielle set the cup down. "Steffahn." Her voice was flat. "Well. I certainly didn't anticipate that."

  "You know him?" A quick survey of her mother's face told her not only did Marielle know him, she knew him well.

  "We've met. You would have too, eventually, when you first visited the Balance Court during the yearly gathering. It’s the only time the daemon ever meet with our side. He is the current leader of the Mayfanata. Very powerful, very important and extremely dangerous to deal with. Every word he utters is full of double and triple meanings. He's worse than Sucole for riddles. If he was with Sucole, I hate to think what that means." Marielle leaned in close, her eyes searching Tarian's. "What was the price?"

  She sighed. There was no way she could hide this from her mother. "One joining."

  "Oh." Marielle leaned back, her face now an impenetrable mask.

  "It probably wasn't the smartest move. But I needed that book, and some things are worth the price. It's not like I really had sex with him." The words came out in a fast tumble as she scrambled to justify her choice, to make her mother see that it had been worth it. To make herself believe it, too. "Now I have it, and the spell I need, and if all goes well today, the demon will be history. We'll be safe. I'll be safe."

  "Oh, Tarian. If only things were that simple."

  Marielle put a hand on her arm. "You do realize that for daemons, the joining of power is more potent than sex? And that it comes with the same consequences as intercourse does for us? Here, you must use protections if you don't wish to get pregnant. The same is true for daemon joining. I'm sure he didn't mention that part. He never volunteers information."

  A lump formed in her throat as her mother spoke, which she tried to swallow away. It wasn't like she hadn't thought about it, but she'd hoped it was more like a dream. More like a power exchange, not a life exchange.

  "So, what happens if…" She couldn't finish the sentence.

  Marielle sighed. "I don't know. It's happened before, of course, in other families. Even in our own, truth be told. But I question his need for this sort of action at this time, with you. He gained something. Most obviously, he gained the chance to add his essence to any child you might carry from the Succession Ritual. What he hopes that child will do for him in the long run remains to be discovered."

  Ice formed in Tarian’s veins as her mother spoke. Chunks of it broke away and started stabbing her in the heart. She'd been so worried about the demon stealing her will, and using her power as his own, that she'd overlooked what might be an even bigger threat in the future. Her own child, part daemon. Tied to the Mayfanata. She'd not only gambled with her own body but with her future child's as well.

  Her hand pressed on her stomach. Was a child coming already?

  "Should I…is there any way to stop…" She couldn't voice the words.

  "There is always a way to stop pregnancy. But if you do, the Ritual won't be fulfilled. We take a risk either way. Were I you, I'd choose the future over the present. This child, should one result from this Ritual session, will be more than just Steffahn. She or he will be a blend of all of your choices. She'll be you and a part of every Potential you join with, to use Steffahn's term. He plays a dangerous game, one where he cannot control the outcome. It's unusual for him. He must be desperate." Marielle took Tarian's hand and squeezed. "The important thing is for you to not react in kind. Desperation seldom leads to smart decisions."

  Tarian nodded. Maybe all was not lost. Her child would, after all, carry Xannon blood. Steffahn wouldn't own the child, after all. He just hoped for some sort of advantage. Though she’d love to know what, exactly, would make a daemon like Steffahn that desperate. He hadn’t seemed like a man on the edge. He’d seemed in perfect command, if a bit determined. She’d ask him why, but this time the price for such information would be too high, she was sure.

  After another few sips of coffee, she couldn't help but turn to her mother. "How did you do it? How could you stand this?"

  "Meaning?" Her mother held her gaze without flinching.

  "What was this whole archaic ritual like for you? Did you like it? Did you like the men? Did you have any choice at all?"

  Marielle set her cup back down on the table and took a deep breath. She took another, then smiled. "In all the years we've argued over this, you've never once asked me how it was for me."

  "I suppose I was too busy resenting the situation to worry about it."

  "You do realize that had I not participated, most likely you would not be here? Knowing that, how can you doubt that I made a good choice?" Her mother put a soft hand on her arm. "To answer your question, yes, I had a choice. All of life is a choice. Every single morning you make a choice to face the day. You make a choice to use your tracking ability to help your friends, and for the good of our Society. You made a choice to participate in the Ritual, even though you hate the very idea of it. You made a choice to accept a joining with Steffahn, and with whoever the other men are or will be. Because you know the consequences if you don't. And, apparently, you deem the outcome worth the cost."

  Her mother leaned back and folded her hands in her lap. "When I first approached the ritual, I was younger than you. I'd been raised for that moment, and it was something I approached with anticipation and excitement. I'd always wanted to be a mother. I used to volunteer in the nursery, and I helped with the healers during childbirths. I found the start of a new life fascinating."

  Marielle smiled at her. Tarian was startled to see moisture in her mother's eyes. “The beginning of your life to be the most amazing thing I'd ever experienced. I could feel you growing. I felt connected with you in a way I'd never been with anyone or anything else. I wouldn't trade it for anything. Ever. And once I had you, I knew exactly why I put up with the tedious parts of the job, and of life. You and your sister are worth the price. For me. And I'll admit, I found the ritual itself to be a life-affirming, fun adventure." Marielle smiled again, but this time her eyes danced.

  Tarian had never seen her mother's eyes dance. Her mother had enjoyed the sex. The knowledge stunned her. She'd never thought of her mother as a young girl. As a person, really. She was…her mother. But she was also a human with drive and ambition, desires, passions, longings. All of it.

  Tarian realized her mouth was hanging open and hastily shut it, then picked up the coffee. I
t was cold, but she sipped it anyway.

  “Now that you have the information you sought, what do you intend to do with it?” Marielle studied Tarian over her coffee cup. Her casual tone spoke volumes.

  “You sure you want to know?”

  Marielle waited.

  “You’ve really perfected the power of silence, haven’t you?”

  “I find that it’s often best to let others fill the void, yes.” Her mother smiled.

  “Alex, Frankie, and Daric are going to help me banish this freak. I’m not going alone. I have everything I need now, plus an infusion of energy from Steffahn.”

  “And where do you plan to do this?”

  “Not here. No way I’m bringing him here.”

  “The House is powerful, Tarian. The Dolphin Throne can help. I wouldn’t even attempt something like this without it.”

  Tarian shook her head. “No. The best thing to do is split up. I don’t want him getting both of us into the same room, near that medallion. I want him far away from here, and far away from you and Calli. Just in case.”

  “If we try together…”

  “Don’t you see? That’s what he wants. I’m not going to give him the chance to take us all. He already took my blood. That’s all he’s getting.” Tarian leaned back in the chair, her arms crossed in front of her body. “You have to agree it makes sense. Don’t they say never put all your eggs in one basket? Well this House is the basket. And this egg is not staying here to do something like this.”

  Marielle nodded, slowly. “I don’t suppose someone else can do this? A team of Sentinels perhaps? Our best people?”

  Tarian shook her head. “No, mother. It has to be someone with a close personal connection to the demon. And I’m pretty close to him wouldn’t you say? He doesn’t have anybody else’s blood. Any other living person, anyway.”

  Marielle nodded slowly again, but didn’t say anything else. Tarian picked up her cup and sipped at the cold liquid that failed to soothe like it normally did.

  Marielle cleared her throat. “You know, I’m surprised you’re here right now.”

  “What’s so special about right now?”

  “The Potentials are here for the vetting. They’re all in the training yard. I suspected you would avoid this particular exercise. With everything else going on.”

  “Oh.” She swallowed the rest of her coffee, the bitter taste burned her tongue. It struck her that Daric might be in the training yard waiting for her. He was, after all, a Potential who had to be vetted.

  “I suppose I should go check it out.” She kept her tone casual.

  Marielle smiled, and it warmed her face and eyes. "Choose well, Tarian."

  Chapter 29

  Tarian entered the Arena with her thoughts in upheaval. She tried to process her conversation with her mother but most of it felt ripe with hidden meaning she couldn’t quite grasp. What she knew for sure was her mother enjoyed the Ritual. Her mother had once been a young girl with hopes, dreams, and a need for sex.

  Her mother had gone from parent to person in one conversation. It was unsettling and liberating at the same time. What other secrets was her mother holding on to? When this whole demon thing was over, she looked forward to finding out.

  Tarian paused and looked up at the glorious Pacific sky. It always made her heart sing to be in the Arena, with the manicured grass lawn and flowers around the edges, all of it open to the endless sky and boundless sun, but surrounded by the rock and earth which formed their home and protected all of them.

  Today, it was crowded with men all wanting a piece of her.

  The stench of sweat permeated the air. Society leaders from all over the continent watched from the spectator stands with clipboards and pens. It felt like something Olympic judges would do. Why it mattered if the men could fight she couldn’t fathom. Were they expected to hold her down or something?

  Two men in the middle of the arena caught her attention. One had his shirt off, and the muscles along his back rippled in a delightfully tasty way. He had dark blonde hair, and his movements were like a cat, practiced and graceful. He boxed with another who poured sweat and radiated tension.

  She noticed Alex watching the fight from one of the stands and crossed the open grassy area to join him. He wore training pads like he had just come from a boxing match and a glum expression on his face.

  “Morning.”

  He grunted in reply.

  She nudged him. “Seems like a waste of time to me. By the time they get around to deciding anything, I’ll be done with it.”

  Alex glanced at her, his cheeks already red. “So you finished already? With who else? Daric?”

  She smiled. “Maybe it’s better if we pretend it was just you and me.”

  “Thanks, chica.” He shifted his feet. “But you don’t gotta spare my feelings. I’ll get over it.”

  “Thanks for being first, Alex. Really. This whole thing is a lot easier because of you.” She felt like she was thanking him for advice on how to play chess. No matter how they tried to ignore it, getting naked with someone mattered. It mattered a lot. Maybe that’s why they used to make the guys wear masks for the ritual. She pictured a man in full head mask entering her bedroom, with Alex’s full muscled torso, then grinned. She’d know him even if he had a paper bag over his head.

  Was it better to know who the guy was? Or would it have been easier if she didn’t know?

  “Seriously. At least I got to choose. You were there for me when I needed you, and I’ll never forget it.”

  He nodded. With his back tense and the strained look in his eyes, he looked the picture of stiff-upper-lip syndrome.

  “You wanted more.” She kept her voice neutral.

  Alex shrugged.

  “You’ll get it, someday. Just not with me. Any girl would be thrilled to have a man like you.”

  She couldn’t think of any words that would soothe this heartache in her friend. Her own heart remained distant, a spectator. If she were honest with herself, it was otherwise engaged with thoughts of Daric.

  Problem was, she couldn’t have a relationship. No man really wanted to sit around on the sidelines and watch while his partner did it with strangers. Or sit idly by while she got pregnant with a stranger’s child. Not in today’s society, anyway. Maybe thousands of years ago when this stupid ritual was conceived it was normal for a woman to have a different partner every night, and to not know who the father of her children was. But these days a real man wanted more. At least, Alex did. He came from a region strong in Catholic religion and family. He wasn’t part of the old culture or old ways surrounding the House itself. He was very much a modern man, with modern needs for attachment and bonding with both his mate and his children. He wanted to be involved in all of it, the day to day leadership, the raising of his child, everything. He wanted her heart. As much as he tried to deny it, she could see it written in the lines around his eyes and the way he held his shoulders slumped, his gaze avoiding hers. He wanted something he couldn’t have, and he knew it.

  Some girl was going to be very, very lucky one day. This man would give her his entire being. She’d be his everything. Her heart ached for the loss of such a thing for herself. Something she’d never had in the first place. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, and she quickly looked up to the sky to stave them off. This was a no win situation. She knew it. He knew it. But damn if it didn’t hurt. She’d been a fool to think it wouldn’t.

  “You got what you needed, then?” Alex glanced at her, then down at her arm as if looking for signs of a struggle.

  “Yes. I’m as ready as I’m going to be.”

  She turned back to the arena to look closer at the two men fighting. Well, well. Victor Aiello.

  Alex grunted again. “The second there is a spare. Aiello is a finalist, no doubt.”

  “You’re probably right." She paused for a moment. Victor's back muscles glinted in the morning sun. He was tan, fit. Somehow every movement he made was familiar, as if she'
d known him a long time. She felt a flare of magic occasionally, but not enough to make a difference in the fight. He was toying with the guy. It made her feel sorry for his opponent, who was obviously outmatched. "I don't get why this is part of the vetting. I was just kidding about making everybody fight me in the arena.”

  “It’s tradition. The announcement says all this is to make sure they got the right guys. There's three phases to the vetting. Physical, mental, magical. Only the best at all three get through, I guess, so there's good genetic material to work with. Or something." He cleared his throat.

  "Really." The lengths they were going through just to pick out a few men for her to mate with was astonishing. Maybe she should stop them.

  Glancing around at the yard, at the men getting ready to compete and the Sentinels watching the matches, the Society leaders judging them, all of it for her benefit. She didn't have the heart to tell them she'd already picked her final match. Unless she should pick one more, to override Steffahn's influence even more.

  They watched the fight in silence. Victor danced around his opponent like a cat playing with a mouse. A nip here, a scratch there. Just enough to show he had the complete upper hand without actually pummeling the guy. As he moved, she saw him glance her way. Holding the opponent at bay, he bowed his head slightly to her, smiled, and then quickly moved in for a chest shot. The guy crumpled to the floor. At first she thought he was dead. After a moment she saw his stomach and chest rise in a slow ragged motion and realized he’d just had the wind knocked out of him. With a smile and a bow in her direction, Victor exited the arena.

  “Well.” If Alex had been fighting Victor, she wasn’t sure who would have won. Probably Victor. Alex seemed to know it, too.

  "Yeah." They sat in comfortable silence for another minute, absorbing the morning. Alex seemed to be relaxing. At least his shoulders were no longer tense. “What's the next move?"