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Shifters and Demons

Page 15

by H. C. Brown


  Dallin thought of Lailii; the image of her face soothed his nerves. He straightened his shoulders and continued toward the music. The passage ended in a wall, no door, nothing. Dallin stared at the wall. Use your talents, the Lady had said. Drawing on his magyck, Dallin imagined the granite bricks as a cloud of smoke. Tentatively, he thrust his hand forward. To his delight, his fist passed straight through the solid wall. Without another thought, he cloaked and stepped through into a narrow hallway. The sickly scent of demon accosted his highly sensitive nose. He looked both ways. A flight of stairs led to an upper floor on the left. He turned right. Moving swiftly, he made his way along the corridor. He turned the corner and barely avoided colliding into two guards hovering at the entrance to the ballroom. To his relief, they stared straight through him.

  The binding spell formed in his mind. He would have to use this incantation with care. The guards must remain standing upright. Another idea came to him. Not the binding spell—the fast-freeze charm. Dallin rubbed his chin, and then smiled at his own creativity. He moved between the guards and stood in the middle of the ballroom. Another four guards surrounded the Gate. With a flick of his hand, Dallin cast the spell. De-cloaking, he stood for a few seconds to get his bearings. Now he had secured the guards, cloaking would only alert Passio to his presence.

  Fourth door from the vestibule. Dallin walked slowly along the passageway toward the foyer. Passio appeared from a doorway and glared at him, his red eyes blazing. Dallin froze mid step. He cast his eyes downward; his fingers tingled with magyck. He braced for action.

  "Not here, you fool." Passio brushed past him, and then braced his hand against the wall. "I said to guard the fourth door from the vestibule." Dallin could not believe his luck. Passio moved slowly, weaving from side to side. Dallin smiled. The pig must have consumed Lailii's tainted blood. He followed the demon at a distance. He may well pass as a guard, but Passio would certainly recognize his scent if he got too close. As directed, he moved into position in front of a door on the other side of the vestibule. Dallin glanced around. No other men guarded this area.

  "Remain here. Don't allow the female to leave this room." Passio turned and walked unsteadily toward the music.

  The demon headed toward the ballroom—with the Gate. Damn. If he could take Lailii from this room, they had no chance of escape. He turned the copper doorknob and slowly pushed open the door. Lailii scrambled off the bed, her beautiful face streaked with tears. She looked lost and defeated. A lump formed in Dallin's throat. He held out a hand. "It's me, little one, Dallin."

  "I'm not fooled by you, Kaos. Go away." Lailii backed against the wall. Dallin ripped off his helm and opened his arms. "I came to you in your dreams. Come here and smell me. I promise I don't stink like a fucking demon."

  "I don't trust you." Lailii wrapped her arms around her stomach. "My Dallin isn't as big as you. Go away."

  "Do you remember when we first met?" Dallin pushed down the urge to run to her, and smiled. "I thought you were a child and stripped you naked. You sure told me where to go. Then you gave me the spiel about cursing me if I raped you." He moved closer. "I was your first, and I love you with all my heart." With a sigh, he caught a tear running down her cheek on his fingertip. "We should never have left you. Father said you were well, but I gather he never gave you our messages. I sent mother away. No one will interfere with our lives now. Come home with me, little one."

  "Dallin, is that really you?" Lailii took a step toward him. Dallin pulled her into his arms and buried his face in her hair. "Gods, Lailii, I thought you were dead. The Lady said you were immortal; I didn't believe her."

  "Immortal? Me?" Lailii stared up at him blankly.

  With a frown, Dallin met her gaze. "You are the earthbound daughter of the Lady. That's why Passio craves your blood. It contains white magyck and allows him to walk above ground for longer periods of time."

  "Why did the Lady subject me to such hardship?" Lailii's fingers clutched Dallin's tunic.

  "Who knows? I'm sure She had her reasons." He bent his head to seek her lips. So soft, Lailii pressed against him. Dallin held her close and feasted on her delicious mouth. With difficulty, he drew away and stared into her eyes. "Our cub, is he safe?"

  "Yes, and not detected." Lailii placed a hand on her belly. "He grows stronger by the day."

  Placing his hand over Lailii's, he smiled. "He is a great king in the making." He frowned. "We need to go. I've disabled the guards, but we don't have too much time before Passio discovers they're frozen. He was heading toward the ballroom last time I saw him."

  "You saw Passio, and he didn't do anything?" Lailii's eyes flashed. "Good—then the spell I put on my blood is working, although I'm not sure how long it will disable the demons. They should have fallen asleep, they are more powerful than I imagined." She looked up at Dallin. "Kiss me again; my powers are low. Passio broke his word and drank twice as much this morning. My blood makes him irrational." Dallin pushed her gently against the wall and found her mouth. His hands slid under her top and teased her swollen breasts. She moaned in his mouth and kissed him back, twisting her body against him. From beneath his lashes, Dallin watched the glow emanate from her body. He squeezed her hard nipples, inhaled her feminine arousal, and his cock grew hard. With a groan, he pulled away and looked down at her damp lips. Gods, he loved her mouth. "I want you so bad, but we must go." Reaching down, he pulled the dirk from his boot and handed it to her. "Magyck may be useless against the demons. We can injure them—the Lady told me they bleed and feel pain—but decapitation is the only way to kill them. If necessary, strike the blade in the neck, thigh, or groin to slow them."

  "You don't have a weapon." Lailii took the dirk and concealed it in the pocket of her skirt. "There are swords on the wall in the ballroom." He touched her face, running his thumb across her bottom lip. "I have a fine dagger and my magyck. I don't think we will just walk out of here, little one. Promise

  me something. When I engage the demons, run for the Gate, look for Stryker on the other side, and go to him. Don't look back."

  Lailii looked at her mate in disbelief. She shook her head. "I promised to be by your side for eternity. I am a Spellweaver. I will fight beside my prince."

  "Not this time." Dallin shook his head. "Save our son. Do this for me." With a sigh, Lailii met Dallin's gaze. "I will save our son." She glanced toward the open door. "I hear footsteps. Replace your helm, and go stand by the door." After taking a deep breath, Lailii moved to the foot of the bed and faced Dallin.

  Please let this work. She raised her voice and articulated each word. "Take me to Passio. Why don't you understand?"

  Passio hung in the doorway like a bat, his fangs stained with blood. Lailii shivered. She stamped her foot in an effort to appear annoyed and pouted. "I asked this lout to take me to you, and he just stands there like an idiot."

  "You draw me like a moth destined to die in the flame of a candle." Passio lurched forward. "Your blood is the finest aphrodisiac I've ever experienced, although, it intoxicates me to the point of apoplexy."

  Moving slowly toward him, Lailii forced a smile. "Your bite makes me needy. I am wet from your last visit."

  The expression on Passio's face would have been comical if the circumstances had not been so grave. Not waiting for his reply, Lailii continued. "I would have you and Kaos in my bed. I find I crave you both. However, you have depleted my magyck, and I yearn to listen to the sweet music coming through the walls and watch the passage of the scenes on your Gate."

  "If you lie, I will beat you." Passio turned her and bent her over the bed. "Wet, you say?"

  Lailii's hand went to the dirk in her pocket. Forced face down over the end of the bed, she prayed silently Dallin would remain motionless. Passio pulled her skirts up

  and kicked open her legs. She turned to face him. "You gave your word you would never rape me."

  Passio's icy cold fingers caressed her pussy, and then dipped inside. He gave a maniacal laugh and dragged her to
her feet.

  She turned to glare at him. "Was that really necessary?"

  "Oh, yes." Passio slowly licked his fingers. "You are so wet—have you pined for me?"

  "Since you left, I have thought of little else but you and Kaos."

  "I knew you would come to your senses." He swayed drunkenly and offered his arm. "Come and feast on beauty, and later, I will bring Kaos to your room, and we will gorge ourselves on you." He escorted Lailii from the room. He paused in the hall and turned his red gaze to Dallin. "Follow me. You will escort Lailii back to her room in a little while."

  Dallin bit down hard on his cheek. To stand and watch Passio touch his mate had made his blood boil. They must get to the ballroom. If he attacked the demon now, Lailii did not have a chance. Passio would break her in half without a second thought. His stomach knotted. Had the demons fucked her? What else had she endured in Passio's company? He would kill the filthy pigs. Grinding his teeth, he followed them into the ballroom. Passio guided Lailii to the Gate and stood behind her, grinning like a monkey. Then he lifted her hand and sank his sharp fangs into her wrist. The demon's eyes glazed over with pleasure. Dallin saw the glint of the dirk in Lailii's hand. A second later, Kaos entered the ballroom, his collar spotted with blood. The knife flashed. Lailii struck like a snake, repeatedly driving the blade into Passio's groin. The demon howled with pain, clutching his balls. Dallin spun around and dragged a sword from the display. He turned to see Kaos running forward, screaming at the guards.

  "He can shield himself with white magyck." Passio gurgled. "Use your sword."

  Kaos screamed a battle cry and produced a sword out of thin air. He danced toward Dallin, uttering a string of expletives. In the middle of the ballroom, Passio slipped to the floor, a look of shocked astonishment on his face. The demon's thin arm clung tightly around Lailii's neck, dragging her to the blood-soaked floor. Lailii, platinum hair stained red, continued to stab with the dirk, attacking Passio's neck with gusto. Blood covered her bare legs, and her small feet slipped constantly in the crimson flow. Dallin felt a rush of pride. No female had fought so valiantly beside him. He had no doubt Lailii could keep Passio occupied; the demon had gorged on her poisoned blood.

  Dallin lifted his sword and parried Kaos' first bone-shattering hit. Swords slid, the razor-sharp blades screaming. Even drugged, the demon had incredible strength. Dallin broke free and brought his weapon down hard. Kaos met his blow with the aplomb of an expert. They began the deadly game of attack and retreat. The practiced dance of life and death every swordsman knew by heart. They circled, then struck, testing each other's strengths and weaknesses. Swords crossed with another shriek of metal on metal. They pushed hard against each other and stared, like two mad stags, their faces a breath apart. Magyck tingled in Dallin's fist. He hit Kaos in the side of his head with every ounce of strength and white magic he could muster. The blow hit with a crack of bone. The demon rolled back on his heels and crashed to the floor, his sword spinning across the polished wooden surface.

  Lailii's fingers slipped on the bloody handle of the dirk. To her horror, Passio began to regenerate. The next moment, she slid across the floor, landing in front of the Gate. Dallin stood over Kaos, breathing heavily.

  Pressing a hand over her mouth in horror, Lailii watched Passio drag his bloodstained body to his knees. The demon swayed, got to his feet, and stalked toward Dallin.

  She screamed. "Dallin, behind you."

  Lailii studied the scenes flashing past in the Gate. She held up her hand and formed a spell in her mind. The instant she saw Stryker through the portal, she sent her magyck to pause the Gate's cycle. She turned and met Dallin's gaze. How could she leave him?

  "I will take your pretty head with the same blade as I used on your sire." Passio laughed and sent a bolt of lightning at Dallin.

  To Lailii's relief, Dallin lifted his barrier in time to prevent injury, but the force knocked him off his feet. Gods, Passio was growing stronger by the second.

  "At least I'm willing to die like a man." Dallin sprung to his feet. "You fight with magyck. Are you afraid you will lose if we meet on an even field?" Heart pounding, Lailii glanced from one to the other. The men began to circle each other, readying for combat. From the other side of the Gate, Stryker pleaded, urging her to leave. On the floor, Kaos began to move, slowly gaining consciousness. Biting her bottom lip, Lailii wiped the dripping handle of the dirk on her dress. Keeping her back to the wall, she inched slowly past the fight, and then ran toward Kaos. The semi-conscious demon tried to roll away from her attack, his arms flailing. She rolled with him, driving the dirk into his neck. Hot, crimson blood poured down her chest and splattered over her face. Kaos' red eyes faded to green and rolled back in his head. She crawled away. Across the ballroom, Passio, laughing like a maniac, had Dallin pressed against the wall, their swords locked. The muscles in Dallin's arms bunched with the strain of holding the demon's blade from his throat.

  "Go." Dallin yelled at Lailii. "For our son." Fighting the lump in her throat, Lailii ran for the Gate.

  Stryker caught Lailii and carried her into the cave. He set her down and pressed a bottle of water into her hand. "Stay here."

  "Passio will kill him." Lailii sobbed. "We have to do something." She lifted her face to the heavens. "Dear Lady, I beg you, save my mate, your champion, from the demon. He is brave and loyal; don't let him die like this."

  Stryker ran back to the Gate. Dallin, his face a mask of determination, forced Passio back, using brute force. The demon struck again, his blade slicing across Dallin's armor and ripping the tunic from his body. Dark spirals of smoke began to dance around the room. Dallin began to choke as the dark magyck poured into his lungs. Passio stood back, grinning, as if waiting for Dallin to fall. Stryker's hands formed into fists, and he took a step forward.

  "You will die if you proceed."

  "Then he won't die alone." Stryker said without hesitation. But then . . . . Who had spoken?

  He spun around. Time stood still. Arious!

  Stryker fell to his knees before the god of war, the father of all the Prides. The man stood seven feet tall and bore a striking resemblance to Dallin. Stryker bowed his head. "I am humbled, great one."

  "Being humble won't help my mate's champion. Although, I'm sure the Great One will scold me for my interference. The Prides have come a long way since I created the first shifter. Tell my Prides how proud I am of your progress." He turned to Lailii.

  "Child, know that we never deserted you. Boda placed you here to enhance the Prides. Long ago, your mother paired another Spellweaver with her first champion for the same reason. They are the immortals that rule the Lands of the Five Gates in the Second Dimension." He turned to Stryker, drew his sword, and dropped it blade first into a small patch of grass before the cave. "Take the Sword of Vengeance. Throw it through the Gate to Dallin so he may rid the world of Lord Passio." The god faded into the breeze.

  Stryker jumped to his feet. He grabbed Vengeance and ran toward the Gate.

  "Don't go through." Lailii rushed to his side. "Do as he says, and throw Dallin the sword."

  Dallin gasped for breath. His sword slipped from his grasp, and he waited for the deathblow. The cold wall pressed against his sweat-soaked back. Passio's blade

  pushed against his throat, and the warm wetness of his own blood trickled down his chest. It would be over soon. His gaze flicked toward the Gate for one last look at his mates. Stryker, his face ashen, stood at the Gate and held up a golden sword encrusted with jewels—he recognized it immediately from castle paintings. The mythical Vengeance? Sword of Arious. Could it be true?

  With his last ounce of strength, he forced Passio's blade from his neck and reached for the dagger at his waist. He plunged the blade into Passio's thigh repeatedly. The demon screeched and stumbled back. Stryker yelled something undistinguishable, his voice an eerie echo, and then threw the sword through the Gate. Dallin lifted his arm. Vengeance flew hilt over tip, landing heavily in his hand. A rush
of power surged through him until his ears hummed with magyck. He dragged off his helm and threw it to the floor. Passio regenerated in seconds and stalked forward. Dallin gripped the perfectly balanced blade and turned to one side to face his opponent. The demon danced forward, slashing his sword. With one sweep, Dallin sliced off the demigod's right arm. Passio gazed at him with disbelief, and then looked down at his dismembered limb still clutching the weapon.

 

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