Demons of Desire

by Debra Dunbar

  Thankfully I’d left a trail of scorched earth in my wake. There were trampled briars and moss where I’d wrestled with the elf, and the smoking remains of a tree lay to my left. I’d tackled my foe before he’d reached it, so I turned my back on the blackened trunk and headed in the opposite direction, pausing occasionally to note broken branches and crushed ground cover. Birds chirped cheerfully overhead, but I was tense, straining my ears to hear anything that might indicate pursuit of the two–legged kind.

  There were a few times I had to backtrack after I’d taken a wrong trail. Two things I was putting on my to–do list — some kind of martial arts class, and an orienteering class. If I ever got back home, that is. There was a horrible fear edging in at the back of my mind, no matter how I tried to stomp it down. Elves were all about the purity of their race, and to them I was an abomination. They’d thought I was dead, killed in infancy by my mother, but now they’d know the truth. If I didn’t get out of here, if they managed to catch me, I’d be a dead half–breed.

  Finally I saw the clearing ahead of me, saw a large reptilian bird–like creature thrashing around on the ground with arrows protruding from its back. My heart raced as I ran toward him.

  “Irix!”

  He turned his beaked head toward me, eyes full of relief.

  “Pull out the arrows.” His voice was guttural, raspy as sandpaper on glass.

  I didn’t hesitate, yanking the barbed shafts from his back and wings, tearing chunks of flesh with each pull. I had to brace my foot on his back to remove several of them. He never made a noise, never even flinched. Finally the last arrow was out, and Irix lay panting and bleeding black all over the leaf–covered ground. His eyes met mine for a fraction of a second, then a flash of light blinded me. When my eyesight cleared, I saw Irix in the form I knew, stark naked. He sprang from the ground and grabbed me in a crushing embrace.

  “Arm. Shoulder,” I gasped into his chest, trying to keep from screaming in pain as he pressed against my wounds. He loosened his grip, but his hands were still tight on my waist.

  “Sorry. I thought … I worried… .” he buried his face in my hair and breathed deep, shuddering on the exhale.

  “I chased the other elf, but he got away, and it took me a while to find my way back. Why were they shooting at us? I thought you said I looked like an elf. Surely they don’t just go slaughtering each other in forests.”

  “They probably didn’t see you at first. And elves do go slaughtering each other in forests. We’re in Wythyn. They’re at war with pretty much everyone right now. You’re dressed like a human. They might have thought you were a spy from another kingdom.” He glanced at the blackened elf a few yards away. “Of course, once you did that, they pegged you right away as a demon.”

  “But I thought demons got along with elves. Would they really kill you over something so minor as trespass?”

  “Those arrows wouldn’t have killed a full demon, just incapacitated one long enough to secure and interrogate. But that’s not the problem.” He pulled away and looked around, his posture tense and wary. “They know what you are. Amber, you’re in great danger. We need to get out of here fast.”

  He stepped back, and with a blinding flash, resumed his bird–like form. Wings spread like a reddish–gold canvas and flexed, stirring the tree limbs with their movement. I hesitated, uncertain how this was going to work. I really didn’t want to ride on his back. Given the numbness and pain in my arm and shoulder, there was no way I could hold on for any distance. A vision of me falling off Irix and crashing through the trees to my death churned my stomach.

  “Is there a way you can carry me and not be gripping my shoulder?”

  Irix looked down at his scaled arms and wiggled the huge talons that took the place of fingers. Ouch. They weren’t exactly designed for gripping something you didn’t intend on eviscerating.

  “Sorry,” he hissed. I swear I saw the edges of his beaked mouth turn up in a devilish grin.

  In a blink, I was over his shoulder, face pressed against the ridge where his wings joined in a mesh of sinewy muscles. My shoulder screamed in agony. A mist of white briefly closed in on my vision.

  “No. This won’t work,” I gasped. Bouncing along his back with every beat of his wings would surely be the death of me.

  “How about this?”

  He swung me around in a fireman carry, and this time I did scream, my voice echoing through the trees. Irix made a clucking sound and darted out a two–foot–long forked tongue to lick along my shoulder and arm. Before I could protest the inappropriate timing and let him know that huge forked tongues didn’t exactly do it for me, my arm grew blissfully numb.

  “Contact poison to disable prey. It has other uses too.” He chuckled, which sounded like a guttural cough ending with a series of clicks. I laughed too, feeling strangely at peace with the world. He could have torn his sharp beak through my belly at the moment and I wouldn’t have felt a thing. Say what you will about sex demons, but they did have some rather pleasant ways of killing a person.

  I especially was grateful for my delirious state as we began a stomach–clenching ascent through the trees and into a red–gold sky. A sharp tingle hit my skin as we rose through the canopy, and heat hit me in a blistering wave. The air shimmered around us. I risked a quick look down before turning my face to Irix’s scaled chest. It was a long way down.

  “We set off the alarm,” Irix said, his beak brushing my ear. “I’ve got to get high enough that I can get my bearings and see where Wythyn ends and the demon lands begin.”

  How in the heck could we get any higher? I risked another quick look and saw a cloudless sky, a red sun pulsing in the air, and little green textured bits below.

  “Surely their arrows can’t reach us up here.” My voice was slurred and low. I felt his beak rub against the side of my head, his talons reassuringly tight on my arms and legs.

  “Elves have more than arrows at their command. Their magic combined with the humans is a mighty force. Up higher we’ll be safe from elven weapons. The air is thin. You’ll be light headed, but I won’t let you fall.”

  I wasn’t afraid, and I wasn’t sure whether it was the happy–place effect of his saliva, or trust in Irix himself. His wings beat faster, stirring the wind around us to a gale–force gust. I felt the muscles in his body tense, scales flexing in a smooth wave against my body. The whole thing was strangely erotic.

  Although, sex was an odd thing to have on my mind, considering I was clutched in the arms of a giant, scaled, flying lizard–bird thingie with a beak full of sharp teeth.

  “Ah. There.” I could feel Irix’s relief and peeked down. The swaying spirals of green ended in a sharp line. Red stretched like a sheet of glass toward the horizon, darker than the sky and tinged with brown instead of gold. Irix banked sharply right. I gasped, squeezing my eyes tight and holding my breath to keep my insides from exiting violently.

  He chuckled. Asshole. “We’re in the border lands now. I’ll drop down a bit lower.”

  Thankfully the decline was accomplished without vertigo–inducing suddenness, and I once again looked, eager to see the place Irix called home.

  Outside the lush elven forests, Hel appeared barren. The red dirt rose in little clouds at each beat of Irix’s wings, making the ground a blur of fog in our wake. Ahead, thorny bushes rolled about. No wind beyond what we created stirred the oppressive heat, and I wondered if the tumbleweeds were some kind of sentient, mobile being.

  “All of Hel isn’t quite so desolate,” Irix commented, his eyes fixed on something far out of range of my sight. “To the west are swamps and great seas. To the north, towering mountains and ice.”

  “Where is your home?” I saw a vague outline of grey shapes against the sharp line of the horizon and wondered if those, too, were mountains.

  He pointed his beak ahead, nodding at the tall grey things outlined on the red sand and sky. “Dis. There’s a minor gate there, but it goes to a remote location in Germany. We’
ll stop briefly, and then head west into the swamplands. The gate there comes out in Maryland. It’s the closest we can get to New Orleans with the least amount of risk.”

  Sounded good to me. I’d lost track of time, but hopefully we’d be back on the human side of the gates by morning, and in New Orleans in a few hours. Sooner if we weren’t making this side trip. Maybe he needed to swing by his place and pick something up. It sounded kind of weird, but remembering his naked, human form in the elven forest, I figured he might need clothing. It’s not like he could run around New Orleans with a beak and wings. Although he could probably steal something to wear. It’s not like he didn’t steal stuff all the time.

  “Why are we going to Dis? Can’t we just head straight for the gate? That was our original plan.”

  “It was our original plan before you got stabbed and shot with an arrow. I’m taking you to Dis to get fixed up.” He tilted his head and met my eyes with a golden eye, twinkling with amusement. “See, I know a guy… .”

  * * *

  33

  The thick–walled stone building was bursting at the seams with barrels, sticks, and basket after basket filled with pungent herbs and spices, but I couldn’t keep my eyes off the bald, robed man. Likewise, he couldn’t seem to tear his gaze from me. It was a mutual staring contest.

  “He doesn’t understand why you don’t speak Elvish,” Irix interpreted. “And he claims not to have any healing scrolls.”

  “Then let’s go.” The delay was annoying me. This bald guy dissecting me with his eyes was annoying. And my wounds were more than annoying me — especially now that Irix’s lovely numbing venom stuff was wearing off.

  Irix ignored me and launched into a back–and–forth sing–song with Bald Guy. I reached up a hand to press against my shoulder, and it came away streaked with red and thick yellow. Okay. Maybe I did need a healing scroll. Or a serious shot of antibiotics.

  “Show him the knife.”

  Irix’s tone was bossy, but I could hear the underlying worry. What the fuck was on this knife anyway? I shouldn’t have a raging infection an hour after getting stabbed. Shaking off thoughts of losing a limb, or my life, I pulled the elven knife from my belt loop and extended it toward the bald guy. He took it tentatively, with two dainty fingers, and held it as far from his body as possible.

  There was more back and forth between the two of them. Tired of being a third wheel in an indecipherable conversation, and trying to keep my mind off my throbbing arm, I walked around the shop, examining the trays of stuff. The dried and fresh plants were surprisingly like those at home. Portulaca grandiflora, rhamnus frangula, long poles of birch. I walked to the other side of the room, and what I saw there had me eyeing Bald Guy with wary suspicion. Digitalis purpurea, amanita muscaria, ruta graveolens — all toxic plants, at least to humans. Who knows what kind of purpose they had when ingested by demons or elves. I wasn’t about to try one and find out.

  “He says he has something to help you.”

  I spun about to see the bald guy disappearing through a back door, and Irix regarding me with concern. I’m sure he had to pay dearly for whatever help I was about to receive. Once more, the demon had stuck his neck out for me.

  “You don’t have to do this, you know. We can pop through the gate, you can steal a bottle of Amoxicillin from a CVS, and I’ll be good to go.”

  “It’s a spelled dagger.” Irix’s voice was hushed, and he glanced toward the back door to ensure Bald Guy hadn’t returned before speaking. “I can’t guarantee the human medicines will work, and once we go through the gates, these sorts of remedies won’t be easily available.”

  Good point. Irix seemed about to elaborate, but at that moment, Bald Guy came back into the room, bearing a bag full of herbs and a rolled up piece of parchment. There was more arguing, and Irix turned to me, his gold–colored eyes furious.

  “I need to step outside. Evidently I’m not trusted to witness the incantation.”

  Strange that I, a total stranger, was. I nodded, convinced that even with a bum shoulder, I could take this dude. He might have magic on his side, but I wasn’t without skills, and after frying an elf like a campfire marshmallow, I was feeling confident.

  Irix walked out the front door, and Bald Guy motioned for me to take my shirt off. I’m half succubus, so it didn’t really phase me to stand before him in my bra. Examining my arm and my shoulder, he made a ‘tsk–tsk’ noise and placed the bag of herbs against the knife wound, indicating I should hold it in place.

  Unrolling the scroll, he said a few unrecognizable words. The parchment vanished in a puff of dust, and the herbs against my shoulder grew hot and began to smoke.

  “Uhh, is this supposed to happen? I’m not going to burst into flames or anything, am I?”

  Imagine my shock when he replied.

  “No. Hold tight against skin and stay strong with pain.”

  I forgot the pain, ignored the stench of burning infection, and just stared at the man while he busied himself pulling what seemed to be lengths of gauze off a roll.

  “Terrible danger will follow you home,” he continued.

  I was still amazed that he knew English, so it took a few moments for his words to sink in. “Who will follow me home?”

  “Demons. Mages. Elves. Be wary.” He cut the gauze and walked to me, examining the smoke coming off the herbs pressed against my knife wound. “Take off now. Poison gone.”

  I pulled the netted bag away, gagging at the horrible yellow goo that covered it. The bald guy began to bind my shoulder with the gauze.

  “Elves? Where would I run into an elf?” Elves didn’t cross the gates from Hel. Ever. And I had no intention of returning to Hel in the foreseeable future.

  He secured the gauze and took the now–disgusting bag of herbs from me before meeting my eyes with a stern gaze. “Anywhere. Elves leave because angels are too strict, but life with demons is bad too. If angels and demons busy fighting, elves can take home from humans. Maybe not today, but elves are patient and live long.”

  Great. Now I didn’t just have to worry about demons and sorcerers who might want to profit from a bounty on my head, but also elves sneaking through the gates and measuring my world for new drapes and carpet.

  I thanked the man and walked out. Irix immediately inspected my shoulder.

  “Looks good. Let’s get going.” was still preoccupied with the bald guy’s words as Irix flew me to the gate. Although my shoulder felt as good as new, he still insisted on the undignified fireman carry. I didn’t protest too much, since I figured my priority should be not getting dropped and less about how I looked.

  Red sand gave way to colorful grassy plains dotted with twisted trees, and then to patches of marsh. To my right stood a forest of autumn–like red — our destination. As I slid off Irix’s shoulders, I saw the gate, a shimmer of prismatic light just inside the tree line.

  “Ready?” Irix asked, his beak snapping. He changed form and yanked the pants and shirt from the bag he’d had looped over his head during flight.

  Not really. I looked at the shimmer, wondering whether it would feel as horrible as transportation via the elf button had. I was nervous about the gate guardian, too. They were some kind of minor angels, and fully capable of taking out demons that crossed out of Hel. What he or she would do to me, I didn’t know. Then there was the little issue of my blood–stained, filthy clothing. If I survived the gate, and the guardian, I’d most likely be hauled off by mall security.

  I took a deep breath. There was no time for my angst. We had to get back to New Orleans.

  “So, you open the gate, distract the guardian, and I slip through? Where do I meet you?”

  Irix shook his head. “No. I activate the gate, and you go through first. I’ll be right behind you.”

  I looked with dread at the shimmering gate. “And what do I do when the guardian tries to rip my head off?”

  “I’ve got an idea. After seeing you like this, seeing how the elves reacted to you, I’m
thinking the guardian is going to do the same.”

  I scowled. “Same what? Shoot me full of arrows and stab me?”

  Irix walked forward, hand outstretched. “No. Just trust me.”

  I did. And even if I didn’t, I really didn’t have any other choice if I wanted to get back in time to help my friends.

  With a sweep of his hand, the demon opened the gate. It was like a rip in the air, revealing row upon row of colorful displays and shoppers with tiny baskets. I recognized the store right away.

  “Go,” Irix urged.

  I clenched my jaw and walked through.

  Nothing. One moment I was at the edge of a forest, the next I was looking at an array of Urban Decay cosmetics. Irix walked through right behind me, bumping me as he entered the store. I stepped to the right and accidently plowed into a young woman about my age. I heard her basket hit the floor, lip gloss and little jars of moisturizer rolling across the carpet.

  “Oh, sorry!” I turned toward her to apologize further.

  She was staring at me, her eyes practically out of their sockets, and her mouth gaped open, moving as if she wanted to say something.

  “Are you okay?” I asked. Maybe she’d swallowed something when I’d bumped into her. My mind raced trying to remember the steps to the Heimlich maneuver.

  The woman made a choking sound and waved her hands around, pointing at me, then at the demon beside me. Had she seen us come through the gate? Irix grabbed my arm and yanked me toward the exit.

  “Let’s go. Now!”

  I struggled, but finally had to move to keep from falling. I looked bad enough without being dragged through Sephora on my ass.

  “That’s the gate guardian,” Irix hissed once we were clear of the store.

  Holy shit. She looked just like a human. How could the demons tell? And why the heck wasn’t she trying to kill us? I thought she’d do something more lethal than gasp wordlessly.