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

by Christine Pope

  "Yes." Once again, her mouth moved without her being in control. She pounded inside the cage in her mind. She wanted to scream at this man, but she couldn't. He hadn't asked her to.

  The woman next to him pursed her lips. “I’m not sure this fits the definition of saving my daughter.”

  Daughter. The word flitted past.

  “To summon someone they are bound to your will. But it can be released. It’s better to do it one step at a time.” The man leaned in close to Tarian, his lips next to her ear. “You have to do anything I tell you to do, yes?” he whispered in her ear.

  "Yes." She stood, unmoving, while inside her a part of her seethed. She tried to grasp at the pieces of her mind and will them back together.

  "I'd rather have a willing partner." He kissed her cheek.

  A name danced through her mind, but was gone before she could catch it.

  He stepped away from her and another woman joined him. A smaller one, though she looked like the taller one. She knew this woman. Knew her well. Her name hovered around the edges of her mind. Inside she screamed, "Let me out!" But outside, her body stood motionless.

  The man spoke, and black descended over her once more.

  The black filled with pain. Throbbing, pounding, reverberating pain. Tarian groaned and tried to roll over, away from it.

  “Shhhh, don’t move. Here, drink this.” The voice was kind, and deep, and familiar. Something warm and soothing poured onto her lips. She swallowed reflexively, which set off a wave of pain in her jaw and around her head.

  “Take another sip.”

  She tried to push the thing away. It hurt. But the voice insisted, and her hands refused to work, and it was easier to just do as she was told. With each sip, some of the pain lessened. It occurred to her that this was an improvement over something. She’d had no will of her own. She’d been trapped inside her own mind. Did she have control now?

  “Let me try something,” a feminine voice said. From somewhere far away she fished out a name. Calliope. Relief joined it. Her sister, alive and well. For some reason, that was important.

  Tarian felt herself being shifted slightly. Her body lay on something soft. Had she been drinking? What the hell? The pain seemed endless.

  A soothing sensation passed over her arms as if they were dipped in a warm bath. Relief from the intense pain in her bones followed. She felt it receding from her legs next, until it all became just a dull ache. Except for her head, which still throbbed. She reached up with her hands to hold her head in a useless attempt to get it to stop throbbing.

  “Headache?” Calliope asked.

  “The caffeine will help. She just needs to drink more of it,” the deep voice answered. She knew that voice. It was…it was…

  The cup was placed against her lips again and she drank a few more sips. The pain bubbled. Tentatively she tried opening her eyes. A pair of deep brown eyes stared back at her.

  “Welcome back.” Daric smiled.

  She moaned.

  “I can try to help the headache, Tarian, but I’m not very good with that area yet,” Calliope said. Tarian looked over to see her sister sitting on the bed next to her. She looked up. The familiar mural of her own ceiling smiled down at her.

  “What…” Tarian murmured softly.

  “There's always some pain after a summoning is released. I'm not sure why you fainted. Maybe it was my dashing good looks.” His dimple winked at her.

  She rubbed her head with her hands. Her jumbled thoughts circled and solidified. Rasmussen. The ritual. The cave. The Carraig. She'd been trapped in a cave with them. She’d made a deal. Then black. Then outside somewhere with Calliope and her mother. Now here. Everything felt disjointed and awkward. But her body was her own again. She almost cried as the realization struck.

  “Here, another few sips.” Daric held the cup up to her lips again and she drank deeper. Coffee. Bless the man, he'd brought her coffee.

  “It usually isn’t this bad.” Daric took the cup away again.

  “How would you know?” Tarian tried to sit up.

  “I’ve been banished before.” He put his hand on her back and helped push her into a sitting position. He pushed the coffee cup into her hands and she cuddled it.

  “You’ll need to eat soon. All of your body processes shut down when you’re banished, but they start up again when you’re released. You need to replace the energy.”

  “I ate this morning.” She sipped more coffee.

  “That was yesterday,” Calliope said.

  “Oh.” She couldn’t think of any other response.

  She tried to get up, but fell back down onto the bed, toppling into Daric. His arms immediately went around her.

  “Give it a few minutes. It'll wear off soon. Keep drinking the coffee.”

  “I have to get out of here. Rasmussen. The demon is Rasmussen. I have to go.”

  “No, Tarian. You have to stay. Mother is furious. She won’t let you out of the House again, that’s for sure. And the reception has already started. You have to be there.” Calliope paced the length of the small living room. She'd never seen her sister look so worried.

  “Reception?” Everything was so hazy.

  “The Reception to meet the final Potentials. Don’t you remember?”

  “Of course I remember." She glanced at Daric. "I'm not sure I need to go now."

  “What do you mean?” Calliope stopped pacing.

  “I may have already completed the ritual.” She took a deep breath. “At least, I tried to. Just in case.”

  Calliope’s mouth formed an “O.” She looked from Tarian to Daric and then down at her hands.

  “I know…well, I hate to ask, but…”

  “Yes, Calli, more than two.”

  Daric’s arms tensed around her.

  Knowledge grants power stronger than magic.

  “I still think you should be there. Mother will have a fit if she doesn’t see you walking around with your own mind intact soon. She only left to arrange food and a healer for you.”

  “I can’t go. Most of my magic is gone. I can barely feel it now. He can take me anytime he wants. I don't even know how you all got away from him. He's ridiculously powerful, and with my power added to his…" She gulped, then took another swallow of coffee. "I've just had firsthand experience of what that would be like, and I can’t let him do it. I won’t.” She used Daric to steady herself as she stood up. Her legs shook but held her upright. Her head still hurt. She looked around at the bed and the side table. “Where is the book?”

  “What book?” Calliope looked around, as if expecting a book to pop off a shelf somewhere.

  “The book is gone?” Tarian swayed, then sat back down on the bed. Daric’s hands moved to hold her arms, probably to keep her from falling off. She waited for her head to stop spinning. She tried to remember the last time she’d seen it. It was next to her when she fell asleep studying it. Had it been there when she and Daric…her cheeks grew hot. She couldn’t remember.

  Had her mother taken it?

  “How did you get me back here without the book?” She turned to study Daric.

  “I’ve known the summoning spell for a long time. It’s useful.”

  “It’s illegal.”

  Daric shrugged. “Arrest me.”

  She glared at him. “Forget it. You’d enjoy it too much.”

  Daric’s dimple reappeared.

  “Is there any way to block Rasmussen? Any way at all?” She stood again, stronger this time, and joined her sister in pacing the floor. With every step her body felt a bit better. The headache receded. “I obviously can’t use the spell Sucole pointed out. Damn her.”

  “So that’s what happened? She told you the wrong spell?” Calliope stopped so abruptly Tarian nearly knocked into her. “How do you know?”

  “I figured it out. Landing in a dark smelly cave was a giant clue.” Tarian walked around Calliope and continued to pace. “The Carraig confirmed it.”

  “Carraig?” Calli
ope’s voice squeaked. “You…Carraig? The Carraig?”

  Tarian nodded, distracted. Think. If only she could think. Her mind refused to focus. Fuzzy. Everything so fuzzy.

  “Well I’ll be damned. Your mother said as much.” Daric stood in Tarian’s way, forcing her to stop. “I don’t like this, Tarian. There’s a lot more going on here than one demon trying to get at you. A lot more.”

  “You think I don’t know?”

  “What’s going on?” Calliope stood next to the two of them, her eyebrows crinkled in confusion.

  “Everything. Nothing.” Tarian shook her head. “I’m glad you’re okay. Why are you? Okay, I mean?”

  “Rasmussen left just as you did. You dissolved, then he poofed out. Just like that. He didn’t touch us. It was like he suddenly had somewhere important to be.” Calliope touched Tarian’s shoulder. “Are you sure you’re okay? You don’t look right.”

  “Good. That’s…good.” Tarian frowned. Something important. Something…vital. Something she had to…fight.

  “Tarian? Look at me.” Daric took her face in his hands.

  Tarian studied him, her hands limp by her side. His lips, so close. No. That’s not what she…she had to fight…something. What?

  “Something’s wrong. She’s free of the banishment. She shouldn’t be reacting this way. Calliope, can you reach her?” Daric’s worried eyes continued to stare into hers. Her sister’s hands touched her forehead. Cool. Soothing.

  Something. Important. “Calli…”

  “I don’t know. Something is off. I can’t…I don’t know how.” Calliope’s voice, high, frightened, trembled.

  “Get help.” Daric ordered. Calliope ran for the door. She screamed at someone on the other side.

  Tarian watched her, bemused. Something was wrong. Her eyes clouded. Everything coated in red mist. She blinked. More red mist appeared.

  Her blood turned to ice shards that cut her from the inside.

  “Time’s up.”

  Chapter 38

  The demon reached for her through their link and coated her in red mist. He took absolute control of her body. Her magic answered to him. Her heart beat an unnatural rhythm as she watched Daric and Calliope talking. Watched their eyes widened. Watched Daric jump. Watched Calliope wave her hands. They shouted her name, but she couldn’t answer.

  "Scion, at last, we truly meet." The voice whispered in her head, filling her ears and mind with a soft, snakelike hiss. "You have something I need, Scion. Meet me in your receiving hall. There's someone who would like to see you."

  "Get out of my head! Let me go!" She shouted at him, but the words never escaped her lips. He didn’t respond, and neither did her body.

  She watched from inside herself, horrified, as her body turned toward the door. Calliope and Daric shouted at her, but their words were incomprehensible. The only voice she needed to hear was the whisper inside her head, which told her to leave.

  Calliope grabbed at her arm.

  The room spun.

  Tarian tried to clear it, to shake it off, to gather her own power. But she had nothing to fight with.

  She watched her own hand rise and cast power at her sister. She watched as it hit her sister square in the chest, knocking her into the door. She watched Calliope land in a crumpled heap, unconscious.

  She watched, but could do nothing.

  Inside her head, she pounded at an invisible wall that kept her will locked away from the rest of her.

  The door opened, and Sentinels pushed Calliope’s body aside as they fought to get into the room. She saw, as if from a distance, all of them draw weapons and aim at Daric. Once again she screamed, but once again the words failed to leave her mind.

  She turned to Daric. Even as she fought against the movement in her mind, shouting inside herself to turn away from him, her body lashed out. Force exploded against him and threw him back onto the floor and into the wall. He lay there, dazed, as realization spread over his face. He knew. In the locked-away portion of her mind, she celebrated that small victory. He knew Rasmussen was in control.

  She turned away from him and pushed the Sentinels out of the way. Inside, she cringed at the thought that they might try to fight back. Part of her hoped they would. Part of her would rather they didn’t, for their sake as well as her own. As she left, she heard them argue, but no footsteps followed her.

  She moved down the hallway, her steady pace making it seem more like a walk in the park than a death march. She was positive when she reached the receiving hall and the throne was in view that someone would die. She just wasn’t sure who.

  Alex appeared at the end of the hallway with the Sentinel she’d sent to find him. They chatted, still unaware that anything was wrong.

  “Alex, run!” The words didn’t come out but danced around inside her head, mocking her.

  "You belong to me, Scion. Your attempts are amusing but futile. Where is the book?"

  Without even thinking, her mind answered the question. "I don't know."

  "I can see the opposition ahead of you. Continue to me, Scion. We shall deal with any who stand in our way."

  Her hand came up. Her power gathered. A bolt shot at Alex, hitting him square in the chest. He crumpled, even as she sent another jolt toward the Sentinel.

  She stepped over both men and continued down the hallway.

  She tried to focus her thoughts. The red mist that coated her vision made everything hazy. Her hold on reality slipped. It wasn’t like the summoning, when Daric had pulled her out of that cave. This felt like Rasmussen drained her essence. He didn’t just control her, he owned her. Everything but the small bit of mind she used to analyze the situation.

  Terror.

  She scrambled to take hold of her own body. It continued as though she didn’t exist, locked away inside it like she was.

  She’d lost. It was over. The Dominion, once completed, could not be undone. Rasmussen had achieved his purpose, and now all she could do was watch as he destroyed everything. Her family, her home, society…everything.

  She’d never been so afraid. She had no way to fight back, no way to even communicate with anyone. She cast about with her mind, trying to find anything to latch on to. A sliver of power he didn’t control. She was terrified of what would happen when she reached him. Her mind shouted at her body to stop, to turn around, to leave. She beat against the invisible wall that divided her small prison from the rest of her.

  She watched through her own eyes as she entered the receiving hall and found it crowded with men she didn’t know. Potentials, all anxious to meet her. Guilt stabbed at her. She should have called it off. Told them no. Told them she’d already completed the ritual. How many of these men would get hurt, just by being here?

  She watched their faces as she walked by. They didn’t know yet. They had no idea something was wrong or that in a few minutes she might start shooting at them.

  Advisor Jonus stood near the side door. Tarian didn’t see her mother, but she couldn’t turn her head or even shift her own eyes. She was forced to look exactly where Rasmussen let her look.

  In front of her, the Dolphin Throne glowed, but she wasn’t sure if anyone else could see it. It reacted to her presence or Rasmussen’s. She was sure the power built, ready to defend or strike. She couldn’t warn anyone.

  Rasmussen must be in this crowd. She hunted for him in her limited vision but didn’t see him until she pushed through a large group near the side of the platform closest to the throne. He faced her. Another man stood with him, his back to her, punctuating the conversation with hand gestures.

  Rasmussen offered an oily smile as she approached. She crossed the rune etched into the center of the floor and continued. From the corner of her eye, she thought it glowed as she passed by. The only time it had ever glowed was her naming day and the day the Succession Ritual started. A spark of hope flared as she detected clicks in the air. Dolphins chittered excitedly about something. They were hard to hear, with all the other noise from convers
ations, but they gave her a tiny pulse of hope. Her friends. Ancient. Always there in her life. They’d know, through the throne medallion, what happened here. They’d help if they could. It was a small comfort.

  Tarian reached Rasmussen’s side and stood, docile, expectant. A drone waiting orders. At first his eyes shone in triumph, then he glanced behind her and they narrowed. He licked his lips.

  “Scion. I sense a change in you. I sense…” His pause made her heart thump in her chest. He knew. He knew she’d been with Steffahn. He didn’t look pleased, but since he hadn’t asked a question, she couldn’t speak. “Your joining is…unexpected.”

  Rasmussen’s companion turned to face her. Shock waves rippled through the small portion of mind she could control. Victor Aiello. He was part of this entire conspiracy. He wasn’t the only one either. Someone else inside the house had sent Daryl on the original mission to entice her into that alley. It couldn’t have been Victor. Someone else had yet to play their hand.

  “What did you just say?” Victor turned on Rasmussen. “You said she’d be mine. What does this mean?”

  “Our agreement detailed only that I arrange domination of her will through Domini and pass that control to you. I have achieved a portion of the agreement.”

  “You were supposed to do this before the Succession Ritual. I was supposed to be the only one she mated with. Me, you idiot. And not,” he slammed the table next to him with his fist on the word, “in a room full of people.”

  “Such detail was not part of the agreement.”

  Rasmussen’s calm voice seemed to infuriate Victor. Part of her was happy Victor had been thwarted, at least in this. She’d been right to push the ritual up. Whatever else happened, at least she’d stopped that. Even if it meant joining with Steffahn.

  “I was supposed to be the one to produce a child with her. Me. I wanted me and my child on the throne. You knew that. Don’t pretend you don’t understand.”

  “I understand more than such as you can fathom.”

  Rasmussen flicked his hand at Victor.