The Demon Within (A PeaceKeeper Novel)

by Stacey Brutger

  “You deserted the battle.” Caly yanked herself out of the restraining arms once she was sure her legs would hold her. “You turned your back on Oscar and left him to die.” If he’d stayed, they could’ve gotten everyone out alive.

  “The odds were against us. You said so yourself. One of us had to live to tell the others.” Henry stood, and his hands loose at his side as if ready for her to take another swing. “I see you managed to survive.”

  “I fought by Oscar’s side when he fell.” Guilt sent her stomach plummeting, her guts twisting at the truth. Orders or no orders, it should’ve been her, and Henry and her both knew it. “His last words were for me to run and make sure none of the demons survived.”

  Caly faced the remainder of the crew, widening her stance when fatigue threatened to sweep her off her feet. She couldn’t rest. Not until her job was done. “The plane doesn’t leave until nightfall. We can reach the temple, check the rubble and double-time it back before take-off.”

  Henry immediately objected. With Oscar gone, he was the leader. “The temple was destroyed. Even miles away, we all felt the blast. Nothing could’ve survived. I refuse to be left in this hellhole a minute longer than necessary. We won’t survive another attack.”

  A light mist filled the air, accumulating on the canopy before dribbling over them. Caly was so furious she was surprised her skin didn’t sizzle with each drop. “It was too dark last night to search the rubble. I couldn’t be sure if all the demons were gone. Oscar wanted—”

  “Of course, you must fulfill Oscar’s last wish.” He smiled, but the smear of blood crusted around his nose took some of the cockiness out of it. “You’d best hurry. The plane takes off at nightfall. With or without you.”

  Instead of arguing, she swallowed the fury boiling her blood. “Fine.” She bent and retrieved the nearest jacket. In a sugary sweet voice, she stuck her arms in the sleeves. “I hope you don’t begrudge me the use of your jacket.”

  A muscle ticked along his jaw, his gaze dropping betrayingly to the side pocket where he’d hidden the medallion he so deftly lifted. “Of course.” The look he cast her promised retribution, but he kept his mouth shut.

  Can’t have the others knowing he was a thief as well as a coward. Cold satisfaction heated her cheeks.

  Slipping her hand in the pocket, she traced the design on the coin. The ridges of the cool metal dug into the pads of her fingers. This little trinket ensured he wouldn’t leave her behind.

  When two men offered to go with her, Henry ordered them to finish packing camp. Isolating her. She hated feeling different, apart from everyone, and the bastard knew it.

  Caly turned and with a stretch of her legs, made good time on the trail. Cool mist thickened the air. Reaction from last night set in with a vengeance. Her muscles trembled, leaving her vaguely nauseous.

  Everything was ruined, her work gone. Oscar was the glue that kept everyone together. Oscar’s will or not, she had no place on the team. No focus when the nights became too long and the demon side of her wrestled for control. It’d only be a matter of time, and her friends would begin to hunt her.

  Pushing that morbid thought away, Caly removed the jacket, wincing when her knotted muscles protested, and tied the sleeves around her waist. Ignoring the fatigue threatening to drop her on the spot, she took off at a pace set for distance instead of speed, doing her best to outrun her thoughts.

  When the path for the temple came into view, the exhausted trance was ripped away. This was where she’d discovered the statue. Almost afraid of what she’d find, Caly peered through the tangled mess of vines.

  And nearly strangled on the sound of pain trying to escape her throat. The statue had vanished. Not seeing him there made her chest feel like she’d swallowed hundreds of fishhooks. The empty pedestal and torn vegetation were the only testament she wasn’t insane.

  She forced herself forward when the desperate urge to search for him nearly crippled her. The destruction of the temple grew more apparent with each step. Scorched chunks of the stone lay scattered over the area. Nothing could’ve survived. The back of her throat thickened with grief. Breathing became nearly impossible as she searched the area, stumbling over the rubble.

  Sunlight broke through the cloud covering, illuminating the world around her. Prisms of light danced on the air. Leaves glistened a brilliant green in the mist, and a flock of brightly colored birds took flight overhead. Paradise had been hidden beneath the evil.

  Then she saw it.

  Amidst the destruction, caught in the haze, Caly spied the figure of a man. The hair on her arms stood on end when recognition set in. The unbearable pain eased a fraction. Sweet relief left her dizzy.

  Her statue.

  He was alive.

  She squinted to see him better but everything blurred. The image shimmered. He extended a hand toward her, palm up in entreaty as if to touch her when the clouds choked out the light.

  And took with it the image of her mystery man.

  * * *

  Ruman watched her from where he waited in the mist, a place known as Between. Centuries trapped as a statue had nearly driven him insane with only himself for company. It had also left him plenty of time to think. About the world around him and the mistake he’d made so long ago. It was part of his punishment.

  This was his chance for repentance. A chance for freedom.

  Only to find out he’d been awakened by a woman.

  Since a woman caused his banishment, Ruman found it ironic a female could awaken him at all. Anointed with her blood, he had no choice but to rise when danger threatened her. His lips tightened, remembering the way she’d fought for her life and refused to leave the injured man behind.

  She was different from the others.

  At first, he’d worked diligently to help each charge who woke him, wanting to better their lives. Yet year after year, he’d watched them throw away their lives on trivial possessions or capricious emotions.

  His lips curled in bitterness. Even if there was something different about this one, he’d learned his lesson.

  Stranded on earth as a demon until he could redeem himself, all he had to do was save the life of his chosen three times to gain his freedom.

  He was on the right path with this human. After centuries, he was finally being rewarded. Darkness surrounded her like a halo. All he had to do was save her twice more.

  He’d almost arrived too late and lost her by following the wrong trail in the jungle. Thankfully, he’d realized his mistake. Too bad it wasn’t before her friends had been murdered. It would’ve given him an edge, something to hold over her. He had a feeling he’d need it with her.

  The woman searched the temple for evidence anyone had survived for another half hour before conceding defeat. His chest gave an odd twinge to see the defeated slump to her shoulders, and he clenched his fists to prevent himself from doing something stupid.

  Like give in to the need to touch her.

  The fact that it would take a few days for him to become solid again was the only thing that saved her.

  He watched her disappear on the trail, tempted to follow. There was something about the way she moved that begged him to explore further.

  He shifted, his hand groping for the ivory handled knife. Only to find the weapon that had survived centuries of battles had been destroyed within one day around that woman.

  “Saints and Sinners.” Even he winced as the curse rose unbidden to his lips, another bad habit he learned from humans.

  He stared into the space of the now empty path with narrowed eyes. Nothing could interfere with his return. Especially not this woman and the chaos she left in her wake.

  Chapter Seven

  “Calypso Judith Sawyer, you can’t let him steamroll you out of the group. It’s been a week. Too long to let him get away with it.”

  “I hate it when you call me that.” The sound of Cunningham’s words out of her friend’s mouth hurt, the empty coffin they’d laid to rest a few days ag
o still haunted her.

  As for Kelly’s accusations, Caly ignored them altogether. There was no way to fight Henry without hurting the group. And really no reason. She didn’t want to be in charge, couldn’t be without them eventually finding out about her infection. Oscar’s will remained at the house, and that’s where it would stay.

  Uncomfortable in the leather suit she’d selected for Oscar’s wake, she tugged at the tight corset blazer she’d found at the back of her closet. Now she remembered why. If she pulled up at the blasted thing, her waist was exposed. If she tugged down, her chest was on display like some kind of pagan offering.

  And worst of all, she couldn’t conceal any weapons. The long sleeves fitted so snug to her body, they threatened to cut off her circulation. That left her with only the two ankle sheaths.

  She felt naked.

  “Nice boots, Caly.”

  At the sound of his teasing voice, Caly twirled. “David, when did you get back?” Not comfortable with displaying affection, she awkwardly patted his back in return of his hug.

  The scent of pine filled her nose. Only an inch over six feet with not a scrap of fat on him, David could’ve doubled for the scarecrow in the Wizard of Oz. Sandy brown hair stuck up from all angles. None of his clothes fit properly, all but falling off his lanky frame, and instead of losing straw, he lost pens by the dozen.

  Though not typically task force material, the man was an absolute genius with computers.

  “We got in this morning.” His low voice rumbled in her ear.

  Caly pulled away to gauge his reaction, half-afraid of the answer. “Successful?”

  He gave an abrupt, negative shake of his head and turned away. Stillness settled over her, dread wrapping tight around her heart. She swallowed hard and forced one word out. “Casualties?”

  “A third. It was almost like they were waiting for us.” He gathered Kelly close, an arm around her waist. The back of her throat ached at such a casual display of affection. Part of her yearned for the same, but the harsh truth was that any romantic attachment would kill her when it ended.

  And it would end. Her past would never let her forget.

  Though envious, Caly was happy that they’d found each other. As a couple, they were complete opposites. Kelly couldn’t reach five feet if she stood on tiptoes. Dark hair, vivid brown eyes, and an extra twenty pounds gave the impression of a good-natured pushover.

  A ruder, more disagreeable person Caly had yet to meet. Kelly was her best friend. Without a lick of fighting ability, her natural talent of communication had allotted her a position on the support section of the team. With more than thirty languages under her belt, she was indispensable.

  Kelly gave her a piercing look, twisting the conversation back to shove home her point. “Henry’s made one bad decision after another. Out of over a hundred people, he’s reduced the team to half the week he’s been in charge. They’re dropping faster than clothes at a strip club.”

  Caly looked away from the demand in her friend’s eyes, hating herself for being a coward and cursing Henry for a fool. Henry had the charisma to charm others into believing any scheme he concocted. He would help an old woman cross the street if the right people were looking, only to leave her in front of a bus if he lost his audience. He was a fighter, not a leader. Without Oscar’s stringent rules, the group was crumbling.

  Kelly stepped in her line of vision. “You have to tell the rest of the group what happened at the temple. If you don’t, it won’t be long before Henry’s carelessness kills the rest of us.” Kelly tucked herself up next to David, her stark words twisting a knife in Caly’s conscience.

  “You might hate it, but this group will fail without you.” David ran a hand over his head as if he regretted telling her the truth. Not surprising, his hair bounced back into its usual disorder. Too bad she couldn’t rebound as quickly.

  David glanced at his watch then sighed. “It’s time to pay our last respects.”

  Kelly snorted. “Henry has an agenda for tonight. He’d never have agreed to take over the planning of the service for Oscar without some scheme in the works.”

  Caly gave a wry smile and pulled open the door to old warehouse, pitifully grateful for the reprieve from their badgering. “Don’t worry. I’ve learned to never turn my back on that man.”

  “At least that will save me from having to extract the knife he’d plant in it.” Jarred strode up from behind her, a tuneless whistle on his lips.

  Jarred, the medic of the team, had been a step away from graduating with his doctorate when he’d learned of the existence of demons. They, subsequently, had destroyed his world to ensure his silence. A man of medium height, regular brown hair, and average weight, nothing about him stood out. Until he opened his trap. His smart mouth and bland, snarky comments had been the cause of more trouble than a class of rambunctious kindergarteners when the teacher left the room.

  With a white tank top tucked into his khakis and a Hawaiian shirt, nothing remained of his Ivy League background except his phenomenal bad taste and lack of self-consciousness.

  “We don’t have all day.” Jarred reached past her and held open the door to the warehouse. As she passed by, he whispered, “Let the show begin.”

  Caly rolled her eyes at his dark humor. The man treated her like his partner in crime, and she loved him for it.

  These were her friends. Her family. They were also the best of the group. When push came to shove, she trusted these people with her life. And the very same people she made sure never knew the truth about her.

  “Thank you all so much for coming.” Henry stood by the door, greeting everyone arriving. The slight inflection in Henry’s voice let Caly know he hadn’t forgotten about the medallion incident.

  Since her return, she’d found her room sacked on two separate occasions. The building that had been her home for years no longer felt safe.

  Two days ago, she’d moved herself to an ancient farmhouse she and Oscar had occupied years ago. It should’ve made her feel better. It only made her feel more isolated. She crossed her arms, rubbing her chilled skin. Oscar and Cunningham’s death had drastically changed the dynamics of the group. The double blow should’ve pulled everyone together. Instead, the training mats were rarely used.

  The lack of any demon confrontation in this area the last few days only increased her unease. She tried to convince herself she was paranoid. No one was watching her from the shadows. But on a number of occasions, she caught a movement out of the corner of her eye, a glimpse of the man from the temple, only to have him disappear when she went to confront him. The thrill of hide and seek had stopped when she couldn’t catch the bastard.

  She refused to believe she was losing her mind.

  Here, at Oscar’s memorial service, she searched the faces she’d once fought alongside. Only to have their glances shy away from hers. She’d spent most of her life keeping her distance from them as Oscar ordered, whatever it took to protect her secret. But it didn’t lessen the impact of their rejection.

  “They blame you for his death.” Henry spoke solemnly, but the gleam in his eyes said he wasn’t above using that information to his advantage. Even if he had to fan the flames a bit.

  “Ass.” David’s shoulder struck Henry when he walked past. Kelly wasn’t so polite.

  Her stubborn chin pointed high, Kelly snarled in an overly sweet voice. “What do you think will happen when the truth comes out? You’re no leader. The group is already falling apart. Who’ll stand by you when the demons sense weakness and attack?” She jabbed viciously at his chest and walked away with a tsk of disgust.

  Jarred didn’t say a word. Not even bothering to acknowledge Henry, he took his seat at the front with the others. Anger brewed in Henry’s eyes. One didn’t have to be psychic to know it only meant more trouble for her. The cutthroat game of one-upmanship he’d played just kicked up the stakes. With a narrow glance, Henry turned on his heel and marched to the podium. The room fell quiet.

 
“Oscar was a hard man, the cornerstone of this organization. A brute who ruled harshly but for a reason. He wanted the best warriors. He wanted to save the world or at least his part of it. A man who lived for the cause and ultimately gave his life for it.” Henry took a sip of water. “Oscar was not a man to forgive or forget. He didn’t start this war, nor will he see the end of it, but I can guarantee we’ll continue the fight as he would’ve wanted.”

  Charisma oozed from his pores as he spoke. But when Henry’s gaze snapped to hers, dread blossomed in her chest. She braced herself for an assault, knowing a fair fight would be too much to ask.

  “This man was our leader, equal to none in a fight. By some miracle, Caly returned from battle to share the sad tale of his demise. We mourn both his loss and her decision to leave the compound.” With a last pointed glance, Henry focused on his audience, his voice and actions captivating in a way that drew a person in and made them believe whatever smoke he blew up their ass. His rhetoric had her half convinced she’d planned to rid herself of Oscar in order to be free.

  No wonder everyone had given her the stink eye when she’d entered. His defensive of her magnified all the questions he no doubt had planted since their return. This was the perfect venue for his attack. Anger seared her gut at the inability to voice a rebuttal without sounding defensive. Not only did he hammer the final nails into her coffin, he buried her as well.

  The mention of her name snapped her to attention.

  “To ensure fairness, a ballot will be cast, granting each member one vote. Rumors will be settled. A leader will be chosen. We must preserve the group and create a united front. Demons cannot be allowed to win because we’ve lost focus on what’s important.”

  It took less than twenty minutes to decide her fate. To protest that she didn’t want the leadership would get her nowhere. Even so, it hurt to know the people she grew up with preferred Henry’s lackadaisical leadership to her. But what confused her the most was why a vote had been called at all. She studied the back of her friends’ heads and thought she knew the answer.