Demons Undone: The Sons of Gulielmus Series

by Holley Trent

  She waved him on, but couldn’t help feeling slighted. Did he see them as the same person?

  “She’d been recently ill and had been in bed sleeping it off. He skewered her with his sword. I walked in just after, and he was still there cleaning his blade. She didn’t feel a thing, but that didn’t make it any better, of course.”

  Actually, knowing she hadn’t suffered relieved some of the weight on Gail’s chest. Laurette hadn’t been tortured, at least, though judging by the look on Claude’s face, he had been by the ordeal.

  She took his hand and he relaxed it from the fist.

  His whole body seemed to relax from that small touch, and hers along with it. The anxiety in the room was palpable, and likely because it was coming from both of them.

  “Why did he do it?”

  “By killing Laurette, he’d not only put me in check, but thumbed his nose at my mother.”

  “How long were we—you—together before …” She swallowed and shifted her gaze from his hand in hers to his heavy-lidded eyes.

  Bright blue. Not the red they’d been earlier when he’d been forcing his witch magic—his mother’s magic—to the surface to jumpstart his healing.

  “Not nearly long enough,” he whispered. “Maybe six months before Papa got annoyed that I wasn’t working, wasn’t tainting souls for him. He was embarrassed enough as it was for me even having been born, but for me to turn my back on him?”

  “Don’t you dare blame yourself for that.”

  “I was born bad, chéri. I was made to be a vessel of magic, and with my parents being who they were, how could I have been anything but bad?”

  Without thinking, she grabbed the flesh of his nearby forearm and gave it a hard pinch.

  “Fuck!”

  “Stop it,” she said, standing. “You’re looking for something to blame, and that’s fine. But don’t say you’re bad because you were born that way. We all have the ability to make choices. We have free will, every one of us. Your father chose to fall from grace. Your mother chose to court power. They could have both been good, but didn’t want to be. You’re not born inherently bad because your parents made choices not to be good. If you were bad, you wouldn’t have wanted to buy me.”

  “How do you know I didn’t want a pretty slave?”

  She wanted to punch him right in the forehead with her ring hand for playing devil’s advocate at time like this, but she lifted her thighs and sat on her hands to stifle the compulsion. “Because, like people around here keep saying, we’re stuck together in this stinking, tragic cycle of reincarnation because we can’t get our shit together. I want to know what it is we keep fucking up on, because five lives in a row of are-you-fucking-kidding-me is way too many. I was a good student. I learned my lessons in school the first time around, so I don’t like this idea of remedial education.”

  “Here I was, thinking you actually liked me a little.”

  She rolled her eyes and sighed. “Shut up. You just think you know me based on who I was in my last life. I’m certain I’m not like her, your Laurette.”

  He cringed again.

  “See. I knew it. You don’t even have to tell me, and really, I don’t want to hear anything else about her.”

  From what little bit she’d learned, Laurette had been sweet as sugar. Well, she must have lost that personality trait before her return. It obviously hadn’t served her so well the last time.

  “But you’re going to have to give me some time to reconcile all this,” she said. “Charles says we’re eternally stuck with each other, but I don’t know you. I don’t know what having a soul mate is supposed to feel like.”

  Well, she knew he could rock her world in fifteen minutes or less, but Earth-shattering orgasms did not equal a love match.

  Could they take long road trips without ripping each other’s throats out? Could he eat all her experimental dishes and be tactful when he didn’t like them?

  Would he defend her in front of her grandmother, or would he be like Shaun—failing at things and blaming Gail for them when she hadn’t even been involved?

  Those were the things that mattered, not Fate. Fate was just a catalyst. It didn’t automatically grant them respect for each other.

  “That’s fair.” He swallowed, and closed his eyes. “Hear this, though. I want this to be the last time, too. I’m not giving up because I’m tired of the chase, but because I believe you’re ready to help me set things right. Maybe we weren’t ready before, but we are now. You’ve got the power now.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “You don’t have to believe it, ma reine. I believe it. I know it. It’s my job to show you. It’s time you stopped hiding from yourself.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “Merde.”

  Claude had a throbbing head, burning skin, and a gnawing stomach, so the very last thing he wanted to endure at the moment was his mother’s heckling. Coming through the veil between the realms of the living and the dead wasn’t difficult for her, but it wasn’t something she could do frequently. The fact she was wasting a trip now didn’t bode well.

  He turned his body ninety degrees to the right and hung his legs over the side of the bed. “What do you want?”

  The apparition in the corner straightened her tignon and cleared her phosphorescent throat.

  Great. She was making him wait, and that meant whatever came out of her mouth wouldn’t be especially flattering.

  “You should be more gracious,” she said in that exquisite French she’d always clung to, and smoothed her hands over her skirts. Somewhere beneath those voluminous things, her legs moved. She must have crossed them. “I told you she was back so that Charles could seek her out, did I not?”

  “Yes, you did. I—” He clamped his teeth and drew a deep breath through his nose. He couldn’t raise his voice. The last thing he needed was for all the upright members of the household at the moment to come running in with weapons at the ready. This was his business, between him and Maman.

  He blew out the spent air and focused his stare on her red-brown eyes.

  She blinked and drummed impatiently on the chair arms. He wasn’t going to let her amp him up. She probably wanted that—for him to show some fervor and passion when he had none to spare.

  “I suspect you’ve been holding onto that information for, let’s count—oh, twenty-nine years. You knew she was here and nearby, even when Charles didn’t.”

  She shrugged. “Maybe she’s not yours. Not your true love. Why would he have heard?”

  “Bullshit. He has heard now. She’s been mine all along, but apparently someone, and I wonder whom, saw fit to pull some strings and keep the messengers of such information silent about it.”

  She blinked again. “I wonder who would do such a thing.”

  “Again, bullshit. It’s a scheme that has your taint all over it. You probably did it when you set her house on fire with her body in it. But what I don’t understand is why you’d do it. It’s like you get off on having me be miserable. Why did you go into a trance knowing—”

  “Stop.” She slashed her hand through the air and suddenly, Claude had no words. She’d taken them—or had frozen his voice box, at least. Old trick, and one he was never prepared for.

  She stood, and passed in front of him, swishing her long skirts against his legs as she walked. “I’m not at fault for what your father did. In fact, it had already been foretold, and I knew it.”

  What?

  Claude pounded the nightstand to get her attention and pointed to his throat. The fuck!

  She gave her head a small shake and moved to the dresser. She skimmed her small fingers along the edge and stared into the mirror at her shimmering reflection. “Damn, I was a fine woman.”

  He pounded the nightstand again.

  She turned, presenting him with a look of feigned innocence. “I don’t understand why you’d think I’m out to get you, Claude. You’re my only child. I feel no satisfaction from seeing you unhappy.”

&nbs
p; Bull. Shit.

  “You are my entire legacy, all that’s left of a family that was once great and revered. I did what I could to give you your best chance of survival.”

  Right, sure, she’d done it all for him.

  He rolled his eyes and pressed his palms against the bed edge. He needed a shower and some food, maybe a gallon or so of cold water first, if he could remember how to swallow it.

  “I kept her from you, Claude, because she needed her best chance, too. I knew Laurette was doomed from the start, but I couldn’t stop what was already put in motion. This thing, this scheme, has been playing out for longer than you can imagine. I had no part in it. I’m just a witness. But let me tell you this.”

  She walked, pulling her skirts up from the floor as she crossed the rug, and stopped six inches in front of him. He turned his head down to meet her eye contact. She’d been tiny in life, and apparently she hadn’t cared to alter that in death. On bare feet, she stood four-ten, maybe four-eleven. She was practically elven, but he knew she wasn’t that.

  That was Clarissa’s domain.

  Maman balled her small hands into fists and thumped them against Claude’s chest.

  “This is your last chance. The game is coming to a close, but not before someone has to make a choice that’ll require him to give up what he holds dear.”

  She tapped his throat with her fingertips, and he sucked in a breath, and swallowed.

  “By he, who do you mean?”

  The wrinkles folding the corners of her eyes gave away her distress, mild as it was. A rare tell for a woman who gave away nothing, who feared nothing. “I don’t know. I wasn’t meant to know, and nor are you. Just be prepared to lose in order to win.”

  “That makes no sense.”

  “Life makes no sense. Just mark my words. Maybe you can defeat whatever your obstacle is, but you must be prepared to suffer for it. You may yet lose her if you don’t let her fly.”

  What the fuck did that even mean?

  “Why did you feel the need to dispatch this news now? Now I’ll expect defeat, and that’ll make me weak.”

  “Maybe winning isn’t just about you.”

  Footsteps sounded up the staircase, and Maman stepped back, turning her ear toward the door. “Your woman,” she whispered. “I’ll leave you to her. Now’s not the time for introductions, non?”

  Claude shook his head.

  Maman clucked her tongue, and Candy Corn shimmied out from beneath the bed.

  The cat whirled around the spirit’s legs and purred as Maman swirled her fingertips over the cat’s head. Maman murmured some endearments to the familiar, and then vanished, leaving the scent of honeysuckle in her wake, her earlier words a tight band around his chest.

  None of it made sense. What was about to happen? Suddenly, Papa didn’t seem to be his biggest problem anymore.

  The room door swung inward and Gail poked her head in. She nudged her hair behind her ear as her eyes went wide. “Oh, wow. You’re nearly on your feet already. Motivated, aren’t you?”

  “Absolutely. I can’t get things done from bed.”

  She dragged a hand through her ponytail and scoffed. “It’s insane how fast you guys heal. A normal guy would have been on his back for a couple of weeks.”

  Thank goodness he wasn’t normal.

  “I thought I heard some banging. I wanted to make sure you didn’t fall off the bed or something. I was about to go …” She stopped her words mid-statement and took a tentative step into the room.

  “Go where? Tell me.” Why was she so restrained with her words all of a sudden?

  She sighed, and crooked her thumb eastward, toward the back of the property. “Down the path to Sweetie’s. Your sister, uh …”

  “Julia?”

  “Yeah, Julia. She’s going to meet us. I really have to go to work.”

  Claude put his hands behind him to slow his descent as he sat. Too much at once. “To work? Did no one tell you that—”

  “You mean, did your rich-as-sin brother and brother-in-law offer to give me money? Yes, in their delirium, they both did. I don’t take handouts from anyone.”

  “Wouldn’t be a handout, chéri. Not charity. Look, I know what it’s like to struggle. I’ve never sought wealth. I get by with a bit of cash here and there. I’ve never tried to save because what would a man like me need riches for? If I had known you’d need it, I would have tried harder. I promise, it won’t hurt either Charles or Calvin to get you square. If I had to guess, we’re talking a pretty insignificant amount of money for someone like them.”

  She blew out a forceful gust of air that cleared long, wild tendrils from her face, and he felt a painful stab of recognition.

  Laurette used to do that when they were in bed.

  He squeezed the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.

  “Taking their money would make me feel like a loser. Besides, I barely know them.”

  “Don’t let pride get in the way of your safety.”

  “I’m not. That’s why Julia is going to teleport me there and shield me, and Sweetie’s going to play backup.”

  He twined his fingers. Sweetie, he trusted. As a wolf, the girl was ferociously territorial. She wouldn’t let anything happen to her friend without going down with a hell of a fight. Julia, though, was a wildcard. She didn’t have complete control over her abilities, though she was much better at using them than she had been a couple of years ago. Like John and their other two sisters, she was descended from an angel on their mother’s side. Way back, though. Still, they had some skills that were useful for defense if they practiced them. Julia could extend a psychic shield that shrouded her and those she guarded which blocked them from observation by psychics and other supernatural beings. If she didn’t concentrate—if she got distracted—the shield would fall off.

  She needed a chance to practice it, but not at Gail’s expense.

  Gail squatted in front of him and draped her forearms over her thighs. “I barely know you, but I don’t like that look on your face. You’re thinking too hard. Do I want to know what’s on your mind?”

  “No, rarely should you ask what I’m really thinking. I don’t believe you’re particularly easy to scandalize, but I get a few wild thoughts that would do it.”

  She sighed. “Claude, behave.”

  Laurette used to say that. He yanked his hair and growled out an obscenity. He hated this confusion. Was Gail her or not her?

  Gail slapped his hand away. “Stop it. I happen to enjoy looking at that hair. What’s your dysfunction?”

  He took a deep breath before answering. “Look. I don’t think Sweetie and Julia are enough, especially since whoever it is starting shit knows where you live, and certainly by now where you work.”

  “He wouldn’t hurt me in a public place. Isn’t that the rule? That’s what Sylvester said. All the supernaturals have to keep their fights out of public view so they don’t risk exposure.”

  “Yes, that’s been the rule for eons, but certain beings have become quite crafty at working around them. Whoever it is could wait for you outside. They’d make you trust them, and you’d walk away with them. It would only take a moment for him to whisk you away. Besides, there’s no way Julia and Sweetie could go with you every day. Julia has a child to care for …” He rolled his eyes, thinking of the infant half-brother his father had discarded last year.

  “Don’t worry. It won’t be every day, thank goodness. The three-hour commute is a bitch. We’re talking two weeks. It’ll be just long enough for me to put in my notice and for me to sell my car. I could pay down a good chunk of what I owe in student loans if I can get even close to what it’s worth.”

  Two weeks still seemed like thirteen days too many, but his mother’s words haunted him. Gail had to find her own power, and that meant he couldn’t get in her way. That didn’t mean he couldn’t be her shadow. “If you insist on going, I’ll go with you.”

  Her shoulders shook even before the laughter sp
illed from her throat. “You can barely stand up on your own. How do you think that’ll help me unless you plan on using yourself as a human shield?”

  “I may not be at full capacity at the moment, but I have a reputation. No one will come near you when I’m around.”

  “And what if they do? Hmm? Then we’re both in deep shit instead of just me.”

  “You underestimate my abilities.”

  “And I think you overestimate them.”

  His scoff turned into a cough, a dry cough that had him clutching his chest and eyes watering. He felt like his lungs had been exposed to some noxious gas, burning them, but that was just the magic. He didn’t know what his opponent had traded to wield that magic, but dark magic never came with a fair trade. It took back its cost plus interest. Claude just hoped he could be there to see the user get it when it collected its final payment.

  “See,” she said quietly. Her gaze had gone soft with concern, and she clasped her hands in front of her belly, shifting her weight.

  He could probably pull himself together and do what needed to be done, but she was right in a way. He was weaker than usual. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t dangerous. Time for Plan B.

  “If you won’t allow me to escort you, then take Clarissa along with Sweetie.”

  Gail narrowed her eyes. “What do you know about Clarissa? What is she?”

  “That’s her business.” If Clarissa were really part-elf, there was no wonder she was so tightlipped about it. Elves, like fairies, had been trying to quietly assimilate into human society for centuries. That also explained why it had taken him so long to figure out her flavor. He’d never encountered an elf before. At least, not an “out” one. “Regardless of what she is, she won’t let a demon sneak up on you because she can sense them before they get in striking distance. Most are afraid of her, and justifiably so. She doesn’t hesitate to do what needs to be done, even at her own expense.”