To Win a Demon's Love

by Nadine Mutas

  “Basil.”

  Rhun stood as well. “I thought he was supposed to stay at the house.”

  At Merle’s mention of her son’s name, Hazel stopped and whirled around. “What are you doing here?” Agitated power pulsed around the older witch.

  In the low light of the nearby street lamp, his hair shone like gold silk, a stark contrast to his hardening features. “I’m not going to sit at home doing nothing while you’re out here fighting.”

  “Basil,” Hazel said, her voice measured calm, “you don’t have any magic, and you’re slower and weaker than any of the demons we’re going to fight. I won’t have you walk into harm’s way when you’re so ill-equipped to face it.”

  A muscle feathered in his cheek. “I can fight. I’ve been on patrols with Lily and never had a problem holding my own.”

  “This is different.” Hazel clenched her hands to fists.

  “I can wield knives better than any of you, and with the bow and arrow, I can cover you from a distance, so I won’t be in the thick of things.”

  Merle took in the quiver of arrows visible over his shoulder, and the bow Basil clutched in one hand. More than likely, he’d also strapped several knives and daggers in strategic places on his body.

  Rhun leaned in, his breath hot and tingling at her ear, as he asked in a low voice, “He doesn’t use firearms?”

  She shook her head, the movement brushing her cheek against Rhun’s lips, sending a thrill down her neck. “They don’t work on him, either.”

  As one of the peculiarities of the magic that lived and breathed in witches and otherworld creatures, it somehow didn’t like firearms. When a magical being tried to use a gun, the weapon simply didn’t work—or worse, it backfired or exploded. If witches or otherworld beings wanted to use weaponry, they had to resort to pre-gunpowder arms. A small price to pay for the power that already pulsed in their blood.

  “But he’s human,” Rhun muttered.

  Shrugging, she whispered, “We’ve never fully figured out why, but we think maybe he still has enough magic in his blood to interfere with fire-powered weaponry.”

  “Hm.”

  Hazel stepped toward her son. “Go home. Please.”

  Basil glared at her, eyes hard. “She’s my sister. I will be there to help her out.”

  Hazel’s aura flickered with some strange emotion for a second, but then she caught herself and shook her head.

  Merle cleared her throat before the other Elder witch could speak. “Let him come with us.”

  Her eyes met Basil’s, and an understanding passed between them. Not too long ago, Merle had fought the same argument—stripped of her powers, weakened, and human, she’d gone toe-to-toe with Rhun about joining him to free her kidnapped sister.

  Now she put a hand on Hazel’s shoulder. “He deserves a part in this.”

  After a moment, the head of the Murray line gave a tight nod. “Stay as close as necessary for shooting range, and as far away as possible to avoid a close fight.”

  The tension leaked out of Basil’s shoulders and he took a deep breath.

  “Hi, man,” Rhun said, “good to see you with us. But, hey, you should really have a doctor look at that. Or a healer witch.”

  Basil narrowed his eyes. “Look at what?”

  “That…” Rhun gestured at Baz’s head. “You know…” He winced. “Oh, wait—that’s your face.”

  Merle put a hand on Basil’s chest to stop him from lunging at Rhun. “Let’s start tracking,” she told her misbehaving demon through clenched teeth.

  Rhun whirled toward the entrance of the alley, his aura snapping taut like a rope. “We’ve got company.”

  Power bucking inside her, tingling at her fingertips, she pivoted and assumed a fighting stance. Behind her, Hazel’s magic crackled in the air, and the sound of an arrow being drawn whispered through the night.

  Juneau Laroche slowly emerged from around the corner, flanked by four more witches, their magic drawn tight around them. Silver hair glinting in the lamplight, Juneau raised her chin. Slight of build, her movements betraying her age, she was nevertheless a force to be reckoned with. Her power drenched the air, filled every nook and cranny of the alley, slithered over Merle’s skin.

  “Hazel,” Juneau said. “Merle.” Ignoring the two males also present, the Elder witch continued her speech. “It’s time to stop this foolishness. You’ve played your game long enough, and it’s time for you to pay due respect to our laws and hand Lily over.” Her deep green eyes narrowed. “I know you’re harboring her somewhere, so don’t pretend you’re oblivious.”

  “Will you strike me, Juneau?” Hazel stepped forward, her move subtly shielding Basil. “I have broken no laws. Any aggressive action on your part would be an unsanctioned attack against a fellow witch—the same crime you’re accusing my daughter of.” Hazel turned to the witches flanking Juneau. “Thea, Catarina, Eva, Birgit—are you truly willing to violate our most sacred law?”

  Catarina and Birgit exchanged a glance and shifted their weight, but Juneau’s voice—booming at a volume at odds with her small stature—rang out, made both witches flinch and stand at attention again.

  “Our laws,” Juneau said, “do sanction action against those who hurt our community. Whether by harming one of our own—” her attention feathered from Hazel to Merle, then locked on to Rhun “—or by subverting our way of life and the traditions we live by.” Her voice dropped to a harsh whisper, though it echoed in Merle’s head like a shout. “We have been tolerant for far too long. These digressions cannot be allowed to continue, or they will destroy us. Demons are forged of evil, and there is nothing redeeming about any of them. We should not delude ourselves into thinking we can categorize them in shades of gray, when they are nothing but darkness.”

  “See,” Rhun said to Juneau from his spot beside Merle, “this is what happens when you hold in your farts. All that gassy air bubbles up and fills your head, and then when you open your mouth to speak, instead of sensible words, all you utter are verbal farts.” He made little bubbling sounds and wiggled his fingers in front of his mouth. “So, please, next time you feel like saying something, do us all the favor and just fart. Let it rip. It’ll still be more palatable than your usual oral flatulence.”

  Rhun! Merle shrieked along their mental connection. Are you batshit insane? You can’t say that to the most powerful Elder witch.

  Come on, we’re all thinking it. And someone needs to take her down a peg. Besides, I don’t think she’s the most powerful Elder anymore. He made a meaningful pause, stroked her along the glowing thread that was their mating bond, such pride behind the caress. And Juneau knows it.

  She couldn’t help the soft gasp that escaped her. So you think that’s what this is about?

  Those used to power tend to get testy when it slips away from them, Merle mine.

  Juneau’s magic grew into a buzzing crescendo, her eyes fixed on Rhun with a wild, murderous glint.

  Gritting her teeth, Merle moved in front of her demon. “Hurt him, and I’ll make your heart explode in your chest.”

  “If I were you, Juneau,” Rhun said quietly, stepping beside her again. “I wouldn’t doubt Merle can do it. Just ask Isabel. Oh—” One of his hands flew up to his mouth, his eyes widening in mock dismay. “That’s right. She’s dead.”

  Rhun, Merle growled mentally. You’re not helping.

  Well, she is beyond all help, little wi—

  Rhun’s voice in her head died as he sputtered blood, collapsing to the ground, Juneau’s spell as silent as it was deadly.

  “Rhun!” Merle threw a wave of power outward to cover them both as she sank to her knees next to her mate.

  Around her, all hell broke loose, spells and arrows flying. She barely noticed. Pulling up a temporary wall of energy that would shield her and Rhun, she placed her hands on his body, sank her magic into him.

  Don’t leave me, Rhun, she whispered along the shared pathway between their minds, healing power pulsing int
o him, trying to repair whatever Juneau’s spell had torn. You can’t leave me.

  Her plea was met with silence.

  Chapter 23

  They should be here by now.

  Staring at the digital clock on the nightstand, Lily clenched her jaw, her heart pounding in her chest. Her hands and feet were tied, the rope also fastened to the headboard of the bed the brutes had thrown her on after dragging her into the house, so Lily had no way to get free. It had surprised her how normal the house seemed, with nice if bland-looking furniture straight out of a catalog, and a level of cleanliness suggesting that either whoever lived here had some OCD going on, or this was a model home in a new community.

  She tried—again—to loosen her bonds. To no avail.

  Honestly, where were Merle and the others? They shouldn’t need this long to track her.

  Sounds of movement in the hall. She snapped her head up, her body tensing for whatever—whoever—was coming. The door to the room opened, and two demons slipped inside—female demons.

  Lily’s jaw dropped when she recognized the two witches who’d gone missing a few weeks back. Well, they weren’t witches anymore. Turned like her, they had the unmistakable aura of duhokrads, and the swirling signs of their demon markings adorned their upper arms and the skin above their necklines.

  “Aveline,” Lily whispered, meeting the eyes of the fair-haired, blue-eyed witch-turned-demon, youngest daughter of the Novak family. She just started college when she disappeared without a trace.

  Lily’s eyes darted to the other witch-turned-demon, whose normally brown complexion had taken on a pallor, as if she was suffering from some sickness. “Sarai.”

  Like Lily, Sarai had been next in line to inherit her family’s magic, had been groomed since birth to one day become head of the Roth bloodline. With no siblings or cousins, that bloodline had now been severed.

  Aveline’s eyes shimmered as she stepped up to the bed and unfastened Lily’s ties, her porcelain skin even paler than usual, echoing Sarai’s loss of color. Both witches-turned-demons looked as miserable as withering plants denied sunlight.

  As soon as her hands were free, Lily pulled the younger female into a hug. She’d never been close to either Aveline or Sarai, since their families were only loosely connected within the witch community, but what had happened to all three of them now forged a bond that lay heavy among them, regret and anger at a destiny none of them had chosen.

  Aveline exhaled a shuddering breath and turned away, sniffing, while Lily hugged Sarai, too. No words. There were no words for the magnitude of this crime.

  When they separated, Lily swallowed past the lump in her throat. “Are there any others? Like us?”

  Sarai shook her head. “Just the three of us. They had more in the beginning, but they died when they injected them with an earlier version of the serum.” A muscle twitched in her jaw. “Apparently it took them a few tries to get the dose right.”

  The other missing witches… So the locator spells for them had failed because they’d already been dead. She closed her eyes for a second. “Merle and my mom are coming to get us out of here. They should be here any minute. We should start getting ready to kill these fuckers and bail.”

  Aveline and Sarai exchanged a glance that raised the hair on Lily’s neck.

  “What?” she asked, her heart thundering.

  “We’re—” Aveline began then broke off, her throat working as she swallowed hard. Her aura oscillated with shame and fear.

  “Mated,” Sarai finished. Her sea-green eyes held a hard glint. “They made each of us mate with one of them. If we kill them—”

  “You’ll die, too,” Lily rasped.

  Mouth in a grim line, Sarai nodded, her mahogany curls bobbing. “And if we run, they’ll find us through the mating bond. We’re fucked for life, Lily. Because the greatest part of all this? Mated females need duh from their partners every night.”

  Lily frowned. “Wait. So you don’t have to kill?”

  “Oh, we do. This nice little tidbit is just in addition to our need to take someone’s life force. Once mated, females need to sample their partner’s duh. But not by breath or blood.”

  “How…?”

  A bitter hardness twisted Sarai’s features, the intensity of it hinting at the answer even before the other witch-turned-demon spoke. “Wanna guess what else besides breath or blood carries duh?”

  Lily’s hands fisted, her stomach roiling with a combustible mix of nausea and fury. “You have to have sex with them.”

  Aveline whimpered and turned away.

  Muscles twitched in Sarai’s cheeks, her energy pattern a contained storm of hatred. “So even if we locked them up instead of killing them to keep us alive, we’d have to go to them. Every. Damn. Night.”

  Lily’s breath left her on a hollow sound of horror, her heart heavy, so heavy at the two lives ruined. She was struggling for something to say just as the door flew open and in strode Asshole Leader from the van.

  Aveline flinched and visibly shrank in on herself, and even without confirmation, Lily knew the black-haired bastard was Aveline’s mate. His ice-blue eyes darted to each of them, then locked onto the petite witch-turned-demon cowering against the wall. His upper lip peeled away from his teeth as he stalked toward her, grabbed her hair, and slapped her. Aveline yelped and closed her eyes, her small frame trembling as much as her aura.

  “You were supposed to get her ready,” the male demon snarled, “not hold a happy-sappy reunion.”

  Red-hot rage slamming down over her vision, Lily lunged at the bastard. She got one good kick in before pain sliced across her side, making her jump back. Blood—her blood—coated the dagger Asshole Leader was pointing at her. Another duhokrad had entered the room, restraining a fuming Sarai.

  One side of Asshole Leader’s mouth tipped up as he held the blade in one hand, his other still gripping Aveline’s hair, making her wince. “I don’t mind etching a few new markings into your skin,” he said to Lily, his voice as cold as his eyes. “But I’d rather have you intact for the ceremony, so your future mate can enjoy you unspoiled.”

  Lily’s stomach dropped to her feet. Oh, hell no. If those sick fuckers thought they could mate her off like that, they were dumber than a sack of dirt. She glanced at the digital clock, and dread curdled her blood.

  Where are you, Merle?

  The sounds of fighting reached Alek before he even made it to Gehenna. Two blocks from the demon bar, the night sky was lit up with magic, power cracking the air like lightning. Invisible and undetectable to humans, for otherworld creatures this kind of power display had the same effect as a cacophony of human noise had on forest animals—they scurried away in utter terror.

  And sure enough, the area around the fight was so blatantly devoid of any otherworld creature presence, it almost felt forsaken.

  Alek parked his truck a street away and jogged closer, peeked around the corner into the midst of what appeared to be…a battle between witches? Merle, Hazel, and Basil faced off against Juneau Laroche and two other witches, using parked cars and recessed doorways as cover while they hurled spells at each other. Two more witches lay unmoving on the street and sidewalk, an arrow protruding from the chest of one of them.

  Well, hell. Fight to the death it was, then.

  Given the lethal nature of the conflict and the time ticking away for Lily, he felt no remorse when he sprinted with his demon speed to the nearest of Juneau’s witches—who’d just shot a spell at Merle from the shadow of a van—and snapped her neck like a twig. She crumpled to the pavement.

  While he avoided the witch’s spell with a duck-and-roll, Merle spotted him behind the van. She gave him a grim nod and shot to her feet again, throwing out some form of short-lived shield to block an incoming charm.

  “You’re down to two, Juneau,” she yelled as she dove for cover in a doorway. “Stop this fucking madness before more of us have to die.”

  Silence echoed between the houses, all spells and arrow
s halted. Still, power hung in the air, palpable and thick as humid summer heat. It pulsed and crackled, and Alek could taste the charge with every breath he took. If he didn’t have a stake in this conflict, he’d have fled like all the other otherworld creatures.

  “You will pay for their deaths.” Juneau’s voice, a terrifying whisper magnified and creeping along the pavement, the walls, raising all the hairs on his body.

  Peeking out from behind the van, he caught a glimpse of Juneau and the remaining witch running away.

  “Their blood is on your hands,” Merle yelled after them, stepping out of the doorway. Hands clenched so tight her knuckles flashed white, she added in a hoarse whisper, “I didn’t start this insane fight. I never wanted any of this.”

  Tears glistened in her eyes as she looked at the fallen witches. Inhaling a shuddering breath, she walked to the nearest one, closed the dead woman’s eyes, and muttered a prayer with her hand over the witch’s heart.

  “Travel well,” she whispered, her hand shaking as she pulled it back and stood. “Hazel?” she asked as she wiped her eyes.

  “I’ve got them.” The other Elder witch approached the second of the fallen.

  Merle nodded and turned to Alek. “You here to help us with Lily?”

  “Yes.”

  “We have a problem.”

  Gesturing for both Hazel and Basil to stand down as Alek emerged from behind the van, she briefly explained who he was, then beckoned him to follow as she jogged to the mouth of an alley a few yards back. There, behind a dumpster, she crouched next to the slumped form of Rhun, stroking his hair away from his face.

  “He won’t wake up,” she said, her voice cracking. “I’ve healed all his injuries as far as I could detect them, and I keep trying to nudge him mentally, but he’s just…shut off.”

  And with him, the only way to find Lily.

  Chapter 24