Demons Forever (Peachville High Demons #6)

by Sarra Cannon

  We circled around the area like boxers in a ring, our eyes locked. I kept my sword out in front of me as I waited for him to strike again.

  In a flash, he disappeared from sight, and I spun around wildly. Fear gripped my heart.

  Where did he go?

  A whoosh of air behind me. I couldn't turn fast enough. The tip of the spear pressed against my side, piercing the skin ever so slightly. The pain caused me to jump, my hand going to the wound.

  When I pulled my hand back, red blood coated my fingers.

  "What the hell?" I shouted, not really thinking about who I was talking to.

  My father withdrew his spear and slapped the wooden end against the stone floor. "Don't complain," he said, his face stern. "You wanted to learn? So learn. Adapt."

  My face grew hot with embarrassment. I was relatively new at this and he'd been alive for how many hundreds of years? How was I supposed to fight against a king?

  "Again." He lifted his spear toward me.

  Part of me wanted to give up, but could I really give him the satisfaction? With renewed determination, I met his gaze, sword ready.

  I decided to be the one to strike first this time. I circled for a moment, then twirled and shifted to white smoke. I was surprised when the sword went with me so easily. As long as I was holding it in my hand, it became a part of my disappearing act.

  Struggling to hold on to my concentration, I flew high then descended as quickly as I could, my sword pointed directly at the top of his shoulder.

  A rush of disbelief pushed through me as I grew closer to him. He didn't move. I was actually going to hit him. Then, at the last second, he shifted and was behind me, forcing me to the ground. He wedged his weapon behind my neck, trapping me at a strange and painful angle.

  Tears of anger threatened to come to the surface. Why was he doing this?

  "Get up," he said. He withdrew his spear and stepped back.

  I didn't want to get up. I wanted to disappear forever.

  I gritted my teeth and stood, searching for the strength of will to turn and face him. I would not let him see me cry.

  A wisp of white smoke appeared in front of me and I turned before he shifted back. I wasn't ready. Not yet. I swiped at my eyes, then placed both hands back on the jeweled hilt of my sword. "Okay," I said, facing him.

  With a roar, he pivoted, spear slicing through the air toward me. I shifted into my demon form as the tip of his weapon reached the spot where my arm had just been. I whooshed around toward his back and attempted to strike him, but he recovered too fast and blocked me. Our weapons clashed against each other and he pushed me backward. My back hit the stone wall, and I winced.

  I glared at him, but he smirked as if this was all just a game.

  "The problem is speed," he said. "You have to learn to let go of your human body and embrace the demon side. Shifting into a shadow is like forgetting yourself. Stop trying so hard. Just let go. The faster you learn to switch between them, the stronger you'll be."

  Sweat gathered at the nape of my neck. The sword weighed heavy in my hands. My jaw tensed as he lifted his spear again and disappeared in a cloud of white.

  I heard a rush of air behind me and let go of my body. I shifted into nothingness. I flew in a figure-eight, swirling around him just as he took solid form. I reformed beside him and swung the large sword toward his legs. He jumped, my weapon barely missing him. Before I could recover, his spear came down hard beside my foot.

  "Better," he said.

  Better, but not good enough. I knew that if he'd wanted to, he could have killed me half a dozen times already.

  Frustrated, I stood up and stepped back. I suddenly wanted to beat him. I wanted him to know he couldn't avoid me for weeks on end and then waltz in here like nothing was wrong.

  He moved to pick up his spear and I attacked. I surged forward, half-human, half-demon, sword raised. The tip of my weapon slid across the flesh of his arm as I flew past. Triumphant, I stopped and turned back to see his expression.

  Only, he was gone.

  I turned my head from side-to-side, searching for him. Energy hummed above my head and I looked up as he descended from above. From the tips of his fingers, coils of demon smoke extended, then wrapped around my body like ropes. I dropped my sword and struggled against the bindings.

  Humiliation and fury ripped through me. I couldn't do this. "Fine, I'm not good enough," I said. "Are you happy now? Just let me go."

  The king stepped in front of me, eyes meeting mine. "That's truly what you believe, isn't it?" he asked. "So, what? You're just going to give up?"

  The fears and frustrations of the past couple months fell upon my shoulders like a shroud. When I'd first come here, he'd promised to answer all my questions.

  Later.

  But instead of opening up to me, he'd grown more and more distant. As time stretched on, he seemed to find new excuses for staying away. I knew his search for Gregory and for information about the Order's plans was important, but wasn't I important too? Couldn't he set aside even one or two hours of non-fighting time to hang out with me?

  I had completely lost my patience.

  I drew into myself, bending over and pulling my arms tight to my chest. With one swift and powerful movement, I raised up. The vaporous rope that held me broke apart, and I was free. Blue flames roared on the tips of my fingers. I pushed my palms out toward where my father stood and flames flashed across the floor, rising up to trap him inside a cage made of fire.

  I staggered backward, gasping for air. I'd manipulated fire with my witch's magic before, but this was different. I had no idea I could do something like that with my demon magic. I dropped my hands and the fire dissipated. I stared down at them, trembling.

  My father crossed the room and waited until I lifted my eyes to his.

  "Everything you think you are. Everything you believe you're capable of," he said, his eyes dancing with life. "You've just barely scratched the surface."

  Where We're Headed

  A cool evening breeze blew my hair back off my shoulders.

  I stood on my third floor balcony looking out over the garden behind the castle. My mother's beloved white roses swayed in the wind. I wished she were here now. Maybe she could explain to me why my father was the way he was. Why he closed up so fast and was so afraid of getting close to anyone.

  Behind me, familiar footsteps brought a smile to my face. I didn't turn around. I just waited for his strong arms to circle my waist. When they finally did, I closed my eyes and leaned against him.

  "How did it go?" Jackson asked. His warm breath caressed my neck.

  I didn't even know how to answer. There was so much I still hadn't worked through. "We fought with weapons," I said.

  Jackson pulled away and came up beside me, his eyes wide. "He really sparred with you?" he asked. "Didn't you guys talk at all?"

  "Yes, and we sort of argued," I said, frowning. "I think. He's a difficult man to understand."

  "Maybe that's because he's not a man," Jackson said. He raised an eyebrow. "Did you kick his ass?"

  I rolled my eyes and playfully pushed his shoulder, not even sure how to answer that.

  "Well, did you?" he insisted.

  "It was weird," I said, searching for the words to explain what happened in the training room. "He pushed me to the limit, and I just got so angry. I wanted to give up. But then I started thinking about everything I'd been through just to get here, and I raged on him. I don't even know what happened."

  Jackson pulled back, then his face wrinkled with concern. He stared down at a spot on my side. "What did happen? Did he hurt you?"

  I looked down. Blood coated the side of my shirt. "Oh I almost forgot about that," I said. "I've got so many scratches and bruises from the training lately, I barely even noticed."

  "Did your father do that to you?"

  He crouched down and lifted my shirt a little to get a better look at the wound.

  "It's only a scratch," I said.
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br />   "Harper, your whole side is bruised and bloodied," he said, standing. "Why didn't you tell me how bad it had gotten?"

  I lowered my shirt. "I didn't want you to worry about me," I said. "Or worse, tell me to stop training for a while. I need this."

  "I know you do," he said. "But there's no reason for you to be in pain all the time."

  He took my hand and pulled me through the archway, back into my bedroom.

  "I want to get a better look," Jackson said. He motioned for me to lay back on the bed. "Take off your shirt."

  A hot blush flared on my cheeks.

  He laughed. "I just want to see where you're hurt."

  Slowly, I pulled my shirt off and laid down on the bed. Jackson crawled on beside me. He ran a hand along my bare skin, so soft it made me shiver. I closed my eyes, my heart racing at his touch.

  With gentle movements, his fingers traced the outline of every single bruise and scratch across my torso, my arms, my shoulders. I shivered as his touch sent a shocking chill through each wound, one by one. When he reached the spot on my hip where I'd fallen earlier in training, he leaned over, his breath icy against my flesh. I sucked in a shaking breath as his lips brushed against my skin.

  I felt an intense flash of cold, then relief as the throbbing pain melted away.

  "Better?" He moved beside me on the bed.

  "Much," I said. I glanced down at my body and gasped to find every mark had faded to almost nothing. The wound from my father's spear had stopped bleeding and was now only a tiny scratch. I pulled my shirt back on and sighed. "I wish healing was one of my gifts."

  "You heal in other ways." Jackson took my hand in his and brought it to his heart. "Before I met you, I was completely broken."

  I blushed again, hyper-aware of how close we were. I took his hand in mine, our fingers entwined.

  "What's going to happen to us?" I asked.

  He frowned. "What do you mean?"

  I shrugged and studied our hands. "I mean despite what my father wants, we can't stay here forever," I said. "Haven't we stayed long enough? What about Aerden? If we don't do something, sooner or later the Order will come after me again and we might lose our chance at setting him free."

  "They can't get to you in here," he said. "Your father's council put a new protection spell on the dome. Even if they could crack it again, we would still be able to fight back before they could get to you."

  I raised my eyebrows and shook my head. "Don't underestimate the Order of Shadows," I said. "You know that better than anyone."

  Jackson sighed. "You're right, but it's safer here than anywhere else right now," he said. "And Aerden's not going anywhere."

  "I know, but aren't you anxious to find out if the reversal spell even works?"

  "The only problem is that finding out whether it works or not means going back to Peachville," he said. "And we can't do that. It's too dangerous."

  I sighed and flopped back on the bed. I stared up at the gemstones on the ceiling. I let them hypnotize me as I tried to think of a new approach to this subject.

  Jackson and I had been having this same conversation for weeks. And it always came down to this. We had to go back if we wanted to reverse the ritual. But we couldn't go back because it was too dangerous.

  "We just keep going in circles," Jackson said, echoing my thoughts. "I wish we could find a way to free Aerden without risking your life at the same time."

  "The thing is," I said, turning again to face him, "this goes so much deeper than me or Aerden. It's about all the innocent demons enslaved by the Order of Shadows. All the humans who have had their choices taken from them. It's time for someone to stand against the Order. You and I both know that's where we're headed, regardless of danger. And the longer we stay here, the more we put everyone in this city in the Order's path."

  His eyes searched mine. "What are you saying? That you want to leave now?"

  I sighed and snuggled closer to him. "I don't know," I said. "I was willing to stay here this long because I thought I'd eventually have a chance to really talk to my father and ask him all these questions swimming around in my head. But it's been weeks and he keeps pushing me away. I don't know that he'll ever open to me. It feels like we're just wasting time."

  "Let's give it another week now that he's home," he said. "Your father's throwing you that welcoming dance in a week, right?"

  I nodded. Despite my protests at having a party in my honor, my father had insisted on throwing a formal ball here at the castle to officially welcome me to the city.

  "Let's at least wait until that's over," he said. "Give him a chance to turn things around. Then we can talk about what to do next, okay?"

  "Okay." I ran my index finger along his jawline. "I love you," I whispered.

  "I love you, too," he said. "You're my life now, Harper. We're in this together until the end, for better or for worse."

  His words made my heart soar. Then he kissed me and the world around us slipped away like a forgotten dream.

  Beyond The Barrier

  The next afternoon, Jackson and I walked down to the edge of the domed city to visit the school. It was a mixed school where demons, humans and hybrid children all played and learned together. I had been coming here to spend time with the kids every afternoon for weeks. It was one of my favorite parts of living under the dome.

  As we approached the playground, a young boy ran up to me and threw his skinny arms around one of my legs. I laughed as Jackson scooped him up and twirled him around. It was so amazing to finally see the boy healed and healthy again.

  When we'd first seen him in the deserted village in the Northern Kingdom, I had no idea how much I would come to care for the little guy. He'd been so strong and brave to stand up to the hunters for me, and I was terrified he would die from his injuries. Thankfully, my father's healing powers had saved him just in time.

  A few weeks ago, he'd actually started talking and had told us that his name was Ryder. When I asked him what had happened to his parents and his village, he'd told me the hunters had taken them all away.

  How many demons had been stolen from this world for the sake of the Order's power and greed? Watching Ryder now with Jackson, my heart ached with regret. I wanted so badly to be able to help reunite him with his family, but I had no idea where to even start. There was no guarantee his parents were still alive or that I could free them even if they were.

  "Harper, come push me," Ryder said when Jackson finally put him down. He smiled and took off running toward the row of swing sets near the dome's border.

  I leaned over and planted a soft kiss on Jackson's cheek. "I'll be by the swings."

  "Have fun," he said, then headed over to where a group of kids were playing magic games.

  The border of the domed city was clear, as if the city lived inside a bubble. You could see and feel the edge of the barrier as if it were made of glass, but it was much stronger than glass could ever be.

  I stepped close to the border and pushed Ryder in his swing. He giggled as I pushed him higher and higher.

  That's when something out in the woods just beyond the barrier caught my eye. At first, I assumed it was some kind of animal. A deer, maybe. I hardly paid it any attention.

  Then, the figure stumbled out from the protection of the trees and fell to the ground.

  I sucked in a pained breath and brought my hand up to my mouth to stifle a scream.

  It can't be.

  I stopped pushing and walked as close to the dome's border as I could get. I squinted toward the bloodied figure and my hands went numb at the sight.

  It was Mary Anne.

  A Hatred So Deep

  I took off in a frantic run. I had to get to her. To help her.

  The guards at the dome's entrance crossed spears as I approached.

  "I'm sorry, Harper, you know the rules," the first guard said. His name was Everett, I think. I'd seen him here before, and I knew he was one of the king's trusted guards. Strong and tall.


  "You don't understand," I said, out of breath. "I have to get out there."

  "The king said not to let you outside the dome," Everett said. He stepped in front of me. He was human with bulging muscles under his uniform. He clenched his jaw and didn't take his eyes off my face for one second.

  I didn't care if I had to lift this guy with my own two hands to move him out of the way. There was no way I was going to let Mary Anne suffer out there in the woods.

  What had she been thinking? Had she been attacked by hunters? Why didn't she contact me on the communication stones? I hadn't talked to her in a few weeks, but she definitely hadn't mentioned heading this way.

  Was Essex with her? Surely she wouldn't have left without him? Panic seized my heart. What if he'd been hurt?

  "I don't care what the king said," I argued, my pulse racing. "My friend is hurt out there, and I need to help her."

  The two guards turned to see who I was talking about.

  "I don't see anyone," the second guard said. I had no idea what his name was, but I recognized him as one of the hybrids on my father's guard. Half-demon, half-human. Just like me.

  "Here, I'll show you," I said. I moved away from the entrance and pointed toward the edge of the woods. "Come here. See her there by the trees? She's injured and she needs help."

  The two guards both lowered their spears and took a few steps toward me to get a better look.

  I seized the opportunity and shifted, turning to smoke as I zipped past them and through the city's gate so fast they didn't have time to stop me or even realize what was happening.

  I reached Mary Anne's side in a matter of seconds. I shifted back to human form and reached out to her, planning to pick her up and rush her back inside the safety of the dome.

  "Mary Anne?" I reached for her, then quickly pulled my hand back as if it had been bitten by a snake.

  Her face elongated, morphing into an entirely new face. It happened so fast. One second I was sick with worry. The next I was filled with fear.