Demons Forever (Peachville High Demons #6)

by Sarra Cannon

  The guard stepped in front of him and shook his head. "Xeran is dead, sire. He passed away within minutes of arriving," he said. "It must have taken every last ounce of his life to get back here to tell us what happened."

  The king paused, his muscles grown rigid. "Tell me what he said."

  "He said they never even made it to the outerlands. They were ambushed by a group of hunters along the way. They were grossly outnumbered and taken by surprise," the guard explained. "He said it was a massacre. They killed everyone else, but took Gregory for their prisoner. Unharmed. Xeran pretended to be dead until the hunters had left, then he made his way here."

  "Why would they want Gregory?" I asked, standing.

  "That's the real question, isn't it?" my father asked, pacing again. "As a personal friend of mine and a member of my council, Gregory was privy to many of my secrets, including the fact that you're my daughter."

  "But everyone in the city knows who I am now," I said. "Why take him specifically?"

  "That's what I need to find out," he said. "Did Xeran say where the hunters were taking him? Did they give any clue or mention anything that might lead us to where they're keeping Gregory?"

  The guard shook his head. "No, he didn't mention anything like that," he said. "Only that when they left, they went north toward the borderlands."

  My father sighed. "I'm sorry, Harper, but I'm going to have to cut our dinner short," he said. "In fact, I might have to be gone for a while."

  "Are you going after him?" I asked. I wanted to go. To be a part of the action and to find out the truth for myself, but I knew he would never agree to that.

  "Yes. If there's any chance Gregory is still here in the shadow world, I have to try to find him," he said. He looked to the group of guards. "Gather a task force. No less than twenty men. Tell them to pack light and meet me by the front entrance in an hour."

  The three guards bowed, then left the room.

  "Is there anything I can do to help?" I asked when we were alone again. "I feel responsible for all this."

  My father took my hands in his.

  "I've been fighting this war since long before you were born," he said. "None of this is your fault. How could you be responsible for the actions of evil people?"

  I stared down at our hands. "Not fighting back makes me responsible, doesn't it?"

  "You shouldn't be so hard on yourself all the time," he said. "A lot of girls would have been seduced by their glamorous lifestyle and their power, but you refused to give in to all of that. You're a fighter, Harper. Otherwise, you wouldn't even be here. You would be at cheerleading practice, happily following their plan for your future."

  I looked up at him. "I want to bring them down," I said. "They deserve to pay for what they've done to this world."

  "And they will," he said. "Finding the ring was a good start. Over time, we'll be able to do more, but first you need to grow and learn to use your powers more efficiently."

  I nodded. I knew he was right.

  "Promise me you'll stay," he said, squeezing my hands. "Train with my guards. Get to know the castle and the city around you. When I get back, we'll throw you a real welcome home party. Something fit for a princess."

  As much as I wanted to get back to Peachville, I also wanted to stay here and have the chance to finish our conversation. There was still so much I didn't know.

  Besides, maybe he was right. Maybe I needed time to train and learn to use my powers.

  "Okay," I said. "I'll stay. For now."

  He smiled, then kissed my forehead. The intimate gesture brought tears to my eyes.

  "I need to get going." He released my hands and walked to the door of the dining room. Before he left, he turned, his silver eyes gleaming. "It's good to have you home."

  I Wasn't Surprised To Hear Her Name

  It was weeks before my father returned to the domed city.

  While he was gone, Jackson and I spent our mornings in training and our afternoons exploring the city. We'd met nearly everyone by now and life inside the dome had settled into a schedule.

  There had been no more attacks on the city, but reports of hunters in the outerlands had everyone on edge.

  When the king finally returned, it was with a heavy heart.

  Tuli was the one who told me he was back. I ran to the throne room, wanting to throw my arms around his neck and welcome him home, but the sadness in his eyes held me back.

  "You didn't find Gregory?" I asked.

  He sighed and sat down on the silver throne. "No," he said. "We tracked him all the way to the borderlands, but it seems the hunters passed him off to another witch. She took him into the human world."

  I stepped closer. "Are you going to go after him?"

  My father shook his head. "I told you. I vowed not to interfere in the human world ever again," he said. "Going over there only leads to more problems and more loss. Once someone's been taken by the Order, there's no getting them back."

  I couldn't believe he would abandon his friend like that, but after all the time that had passed, what were the chances Gregory was even still alive? I felt sick just thinking about it.

  "Did you find out what they wanted from him?"

  "We were able to capture one of the hunters who abducted him," my father said. "We questioned her, but all we learned was that Priestess Winter wanted him delivered straight to her in the human world. The hunter didn't know why."

  Priestess Winter. I wasn't surprised to hear her name.

  "She had to have been after some piece of information she knew Gregory would have," he said. "He was a good man. He wouldn't have shared what he knew willingly, but there's no telling what kind of dark magic she might have used to torture him. I have to assume he told her everything."

  I shivered. What had she done to him? And what exactly had she wanted from him?

  "That means she knows now that I'm your daughter," I said. "Do you think that's what she was after?"

  "There's no way to know for sure, but yes, I imagine she knows about our relationship now," he said. "That's only going to make her more determined to capture you. She'll stop at nothing to steal the essence of your power and transfer it to someone else."

  "A new prima?"

  "Maybe," he said.

  "If she kills me during a ritual and transfers the prima line to another girl, would that give the new witch the demon half of my power too?" I asked. "In addition to making her Prima?"

  "I don't think it would be that easy," he said. "The way I understand it, the ritual she tried to perform on you before only transfers the bloodline, not the true essence of the witch. She'd have to plan something more elaborate if she wanted to capture your demon spirit as well."

  "Like what?" A cold fear slithered down my spine.

  "She could be planning to use a soul stone to trap your essence first," he said.

  I gasped. I hadn't thought about her using a soul stone on me. I'd seen what one of those stones had done to Caroline, the future from Cypress, when the crow witch had kidnapped her. It had almost killed her.

  "This is why it's more important than ever that you don't go back to Peachville," he said. "Not under any circumstances."

  After hearing all this, I was kind of inclined to agree with him. I didn't want to die. Still, I knew we couldn't leave Aerden there, trapped inside a statue for all eternity.

  Members of the palace council entered the throne room, cutting off the rest of our conversation.

  "If you'll excuse us, I need to fill the council in on what happened," he told me. "We'll talk later."

  Later.

  I was really starting to hate that word.

  Everything You Think You Are

  Over the next several weeks, I immersed myself in my training. If Priestess Winter was determined to come after me, she was going to be in for the fight of her life.

  Or at least the fight of mine.

  In the training room, Piotrek, one of the guards who'd been working with me, lunged forward.
I shifted into my demon form and became weightless.

  Airborne.

  I was smoke and space. Nothingness. Not in my body, yet fully whole.

  I whipped from one side of the room to the other, dodging in and out of the hands that reached for me. Fingertips grazed my arm, bringing my awareness back to my human body. I shifted before I was ready, falling from the air like a sack of rocks. I landed hard on the stone floor of the training room.

  "Are you alright?" Jackson rushed to my side. "That looked like it hurt."

  I winced and rubbed my hip. "I'm fine," I said. "Probably just another bruise to add to the collection."

  Piotrek turned and smiled. "You're already so much better than when we started a few weeks ago," he said, offering me his hand. "Think about the first time you and I sparred. You were barely able to shift."

  I took his hand and pulled myself up.

  He was right, but that didn't make it any less frustrating. I'd had weeks of intense training. I thought I would be so much better at this by now.

  Shifting into demon form was such a strange sensation. The first time it happened against the hunters, it was shift or die. Some kind of survival instinct that kicked in. But when someone asked me to shift on demand?

  Impossible.

  My first training session with Piotrek and Liroth, another of my father's palace guards, had been spent doing nothing more than learning how to shift and connect with the demon side of my power. Even now, nearly four weeks later, I still hadn't mastered it.

  Hell, I still had a hard time believing it was possible. Most of the time, the idea of being part-demon felt more like a dream than a truth. Much less the idea of being a demon princess. Everyone here treated me like royalty, but I still felt like the same old Harper. I still felt vulnerable and weak.

  "Let's go again," Piotrek said. He moved into fighting stance, his feet planted firmly on the stone below and his hands up, almost like a boxer. "This time we'll practice how to transition quickly in order to avoid a spell."

  Jackson and Liroth stood back, watching.

  I closed my eyes and drew in a slow, deliberate breath. The room stopped spinning as I tried to find my core demon power. When I'd learned to connect to my human witch power, I'd had to become grounded. I needed to feel the humming of the earth beneath my body in order to use my magic.

  The demon side of my ability was the opposite. Instead of feeling heavy and grounded, I needed to be light and weightless. I needed to connect to the invisible energy of the air around me. To become a part of it. To forget myself completely.

  I breathed in and out, losing my sense of body. My sense of self. I became other. Something totally different from everything I thought I knew about myself before I came here.

  Each time the transition began, a split second of panic seized me. A fear of the unknown, as if letting go in such an extreme way would mean the loss of who I was. Over the weeks of practice, I had struggled to give in to the panic and let it take me.

  I opened my eyes just as my body transformed into white smoke and air. I flew up toward the ceiling, then spiraled down, transitioning back to my human form just before my feet hit the ground.

  Piotrek threw a bolt of lightning at my newly reformed body and I shifted again, letting the heat of it pass through me as if I were nothing more than a ghost. I smiled. Finally we were getting somewhere.

  "See? You're really becoming a pro at this," he said. "The more you practice, the faster you'll be able to switch forms. It will start to become second nature to you, I promise."

  I leaned over, hands on my knees as I struggled to catch my breath. I hoped he was right. I knew deep in my heart that once it came down to a real fight, my ability to shift could very well mean the difference between life and death.

  "Okay," I said. "One more time?"

  I lifted my head to find the three guys had all grown tense, their faces turned toward the door.

  I followed their stares, my heart leaping in my throat, nearly choking me. My father stepped into the room.

  He wore all black, his silver eyes bright in contrast.

  I'd never seen him down in this part of the castle before. To be honest, I'd barely seen him at all since that day in the throne room when he'd first come home from his search. He'd been gone a lot lately, and I'd started to think maybe he was avoiding me.

  I wondered if he could hear my heart pounding in my chest.

  "Sir," Piotrek said with a bow. "We weren't expecting you."

  The king's boots echoed against the stone floor as he crossed to where we stood. "I got home earlier than expected," he said. "The skirmish in the outerlands is finally over. For now."

  I swallowed hard as the king's eyes found my own. There was a hard edge to them that made my stomach twist. I looked away.

  "Glad to hear it sir," Liroth said, then nervously cleared his throat.

  Jackson came up behind me and put his hand on my shoulder. Normally, the solid warmth of his touch would have eased my nerves, but today it didn't really help.

  Why had my father sought me out like this? Was something wrong?

  An awkward silence hung in the air, everyone waiting to hear the king's intentions. It was too much for me. If I didn't say something, I was seriously going to explode.

  "Did you need something?" I asked, my voice coming out colder than I intended. "We were just in the middle of an exercise."

  The king cleared his throat and looked at me. "Actually, I'd like to spar with you," he said, bowing slightly. "If that's okay?"

  My head snapped up. He'd definitely caught me by surprise. I tried to act cool and collected, but inside, my heart raced wildly. This was definitely a first. "Sure," I said. "No problem."

  Piotrek moved toward the center of the room and got in starting position. "What should we try?" he asked. "We could-"

  "I'm sorry, I didn't make myself clear," the king said. His voice was loud and carried easily through the training room. "I'd like to spar with Harper alone."

  My breath caught in my chest. I wasn't ready for this. Was he trying to give me a heart attack?

  He met my stare, and I looked away, biting my lower lip.

  "I'm not sure I've had enough time to train for this." My throat had gone dry. "I'm not very good yet."

  The king didn't respond. He simply raised an eyebrow and looked at the three other guys in the room, waiting for his order to be obeyed. Liroth bowed and walked toward the door. Piotrek threw me a sympathetic look, then followed.

  Jackson didn't move. "I think I'll stay," he said.

  If I hadn't been so nervous, I might have smiled. Jackson was always trying to protect me, even from my own father. As much as I wanted him to stay, I was also curious about why my father wanted to be alone with me. Was he finally ready to answer questions about my mother? About his life in Peachville? Or had he found something out about Gregory's disappearance? I needed to know.

  "I'll be fine," I said, clearing my throat.

  Jackson turned to me. "Are you sure?" he whispered. "Because I'll stay if you need me."

  I squeezed his hand. "I'm sure," I said. "I'll meet you upstairs later?"

  He nodded, glanced at the king one last time, then reluctantly left the room.

  I tugged at the hem of my shirt and tapped my foot inside my shoe. The air between us was electric, filled with the buzz of a thousand unspoken questions.

  I waited for him to speak, silence stretching out between us.

  "Choose a weapon," he said finally.

  I jerked my head up to meet his gaze, surprised. "A weapon?"

  "Yes," he said, motioning to the back wall.

  Along a series of pegs and stands on the back wall was a collection of weapons ranging from spears to knives to shields. I'd noticed them before, but I'd never actually used any of them.

  "What for?"

  I knew it was a stupid question, but it just sort of popped out of my mouth before I had a chance to sensor myself.

  "For fighting,"
he said, smiling as he stepped back toward the wall. He looked over the selection carefully, then picked up a long spear with a very pointed silver tip.

  I swallowed. Was he serious?

  With nervous steps, I walked to the wall. There were so many different kinds of weapons to choose from. It looked like the stuff from fantasy novels or movies about medieval times. Long swords. Scythes. Shields made of iron. I didn't know the first thing about weapons like this, much less which one would be best in a duel against a spear.

  "Choose any of them," he said. "There is no right or wrong answer here. It's all a learning process."

  He sounded amused.

  Meanwhile, I felt like I was going to pass out. There might not have been a right or wrong answer, but for some reason, I wanted him to see how hard I'd been working. I wanted to impress him.

  And I hated that I felt that way.

  I reached out and took hold of a medium-sized sword with a series of beautiful stones encrusted in the hilt. Something about it caught my eye and drew me toward it. I thought I would be able to hold the sword in one hand since it was much smaller than some of the longer ones up there. The moment I pulled it from its spot on the wall, however, it nearly fell to the floor. I hadn't expected it to be so heavy and the weight of it pulled me forward.

  "A powerful choice," he said, eyeing me strangely.

  Embarrassed, I pulled the sword up, this time with both hands clasped firmly around the hilt.

  The king moved to the center of the training circle and assumed a fighting stance.

  I joined him, hands trembling. "What are the rules?" I asked.

  "No rules," he said. "Just stay alive."

  I stared, wide-eyed. Stay alive? What kind of a rule was that? Was he actually going to try to kill me?

  I didn't have time to question him. He stepped forward, his spear slicing through the space between us.

  On instinct, I threw my sword out to block him, then jumped to the side. It wasn't my most graceful moment, but at least I wasn't dead.

  "Still thinking like a human, I see."

  Warmth flared up through my chest. Was that supposed to be some kind of insult? What exactly did he expect? As far as I knew, I'd been purely human my whole life. This demon princess thing was still kind of freaking me out, even after a month and a half.