Demons of Desire

by Debra Dunbar

  Two–and–a–half–million years, and one had finally crossed the gates from Hel. I didn’t have time to ponder the implications of an elven presence among the humans.

  “Yf e–lyffel.”

  The words rolled from Weaver with a burst of power, and the ground beneath me shook. He’d activated the spells — all of them. Trusting Irix to shield me from any attack, I dropped to the ground and pulled, trying to re–direct as much of the spell energy into me as possible. The asphalt moved like living sand under my hands. I felt the supporting rocks and rebar begin to loosen, molecules separating and dissolving.

  Oh no you don’t. Now I wasn’t just trying to absorb the spell, but desperately solidifying the structures beneath me. And it wasn’t just the one spot, it was twenty locations along several miles. I felt like a pulled piece of elastic, stretched and on the edge of coming apart. I couldn’t continue like this. I’d need to make a hard decision to either let some of the spells activate, or leave the barriers weakened and vulnerable to the storm. I just didn’t have enough power, not enough juice to pull this one off.

  Irix’s hands rested on my shoulders. I felt his face press against the side of my head. Energy flooded me, saturating every pore and slamming through me into the seawall and beyond. I opened myself wide and took everything he could give, channeling it into the structures across the miles. Cutting through my concentration, I heard Ourson in the distance, shouting something about angels. Angels were the least of my problem right now. If I couldn’t contain these spells, keep the storm barriers intact, there wouldn’t be enough of either of us for the angels to kill.

  Stone, sediment, concrete, tiles, complicated polyester netting, sand — my lungs burned, and my head pounded with pain as I recreated everything, right down to the lush Bermuda grass and asphalt on the crown. When it was all over I collapsed, shaking against the ground. Irix’s arms went around me, drawing me backward onto his lap, against the warmth of his body.

  “You okay?”

  I nodded, my cheek rubbing against his wet shirt. “Did you get the elf?”

  “No.” I heard the bitter regret in his voice. “He ran for it, and it was more important that I help you. I’m sure that’s what he was banking on when he activated all the spells at once.”

  As much as I wanted to stay and ride out the storm in Irix’s arms, we had a problem. Such a massive display of demon energy wouldn’t have gone unnoticed. And I was willing to bet angels wouldn’t mind a bit of rain if they were hot on the trail of a demon.

  * * *

  38

  You’ve got to get out of here.” I stood, feeling the cold cut through my damp clothes as soon as I was out of Irix’s arms. He still had the scroll. A few words, and he’d be safe from the angels.

  The wind had loosened the incubus’ dark hair from its tie and whipped it around his face in wet strands. He looked like a pirate with his soaked, translucent shirt and rain–drenched face — a very sexy pirate.

  “I’m not leaving you, Amber. That elf knew what you were.”

  “What did he say?” I’d heard the anger under the fast–paced words.

  “You don’t want to know. It doesn’t matter, because I’m not leaving you.”

  He needed to leave. The nearest gate was hundreds of miles away, and the scroll only transported one. The elf might be a threat to me, but the angels bearing down on us were a huge threat to Irix. I’d rather wait thousands of years for him to return from Hel than see an angel take his head off.

  “The elf ran away. His mage, all his supporters are dead. He’s probably already back in Hel. Get out of here.”

  Irix frowned. “Even so, I can’t run off and leave you here to face an angel alone.”

  I loved him even more. How un–demonic of him to risk his personal safety over and over again to protect me.

  “I’m fine. Ourson and the vampires will protect me. I’m only a half–breed, and besides, that gate–guardian seemed to think I was full elf.” Sure enough, Ourson was waving frantically, calling my name and urging me to come with him.

  Irix’s mouth thinned into a tight line, his eyes like yellowed stone. “Fooling a gate guardian is one thing, an enforcer angel another. Besides, what kind of demon am I to run away and leave my protégé in the care of vampires?”

  “One who stays alive.” I pulled him into my arms and kissed him, loving the taste of rain on his lips. The trickle of energy he’d been transferring to me turned into a river. I gasped against his mouth, feeling as if I’d been lit up from the inside. When we pulled apart, I noticed how tired he looked. Had he given me everything he had, knowing that I would probably need it more than him?

  “Please, Irix.” I ran a gentle hand over his burned cheek, touching the muscle that twitched in his jaw. “I’m begging you; use the scroll and go. If you stay and fight this angel, I’ll help you, and we both know how that would turn out.”

  I could tell Irix didn’t like this one bit, but it was the only option we had. “Promise me you won’t do anything stupid,” he said. “That you’ll stay with Ourson and let the vampires protect you.”

  “I promise.”

  Ourson had run over to me and was tugging my arm. I turned from Irix to follow the vampire, letting my hand linger against him as long as I could. “Call me!” I shouted over my shoulder, unable to resist teasing him even while my heart broke.

  He laughed, and when I turned around before climbing into Ourson’s car, he was gone.

  ***

  The windshield wipers on the vampire’s blue Corolla beat a frantic tempo as we crawled through the empty streets. Traffic lights flashed red, and water pooled on the asphalt, overwhelming the street gutters. With every gust of wind, the rain sheeted, blurring the world before us into gray.

  “Don’t be afraid.” Ourson took one hand off the steering wheel to give my hand a reassuring squeeze before quickly placing it back.

  “I’m not.”

  We’d had storms like this up in Maryland, just not for as prolonged a period. With the mage dead and Kristin’s group working to downgrade the storm, the rain and wind should have lessened. Instead, the sky seemed to have been whipped into a fury. How bad was this going to get? With a bad storm, the city would be pummeled, but the levees would hold, and we’d all dry out in a few days. But a hurricane?

  If only I’d had the time to fix the wetlands and bayous. An image of the dead cypresses reared in my mind, and I felt a slow burn of fury. What kind of elf could possibly do such a thing? A pestilence demon, yes. A selfish, power–hungry human, yes. But this was not what I’d ever thought of when I contemplated my elven half. Maybe the demon inside me wasn’t the only one capable of being a monster.

  “I hope this storm dies down soon. Even if it doesn’t, there’s no need to worry. Bliss is stocked with lots of food and fresh water, and we’ve got generators in case we lose power. We’ll keep you safe, Amber. As your friend, I promise it.”

  I heard the unsaid portion — that he’d protect me from the angel, protect me as Irix had done. Ourson was a good friend. I glanced at him and saw the lines around his eyes as he stared out the windshield. A huge piece of metal sheeting blew across the road in front of us, and the vampire swerved to avoid it. How terrible would it be if this continued increasing, with the city already weakened by hours of onslaught? Kristin and her group were giving this their all, but their magic may not be enough. I felt the hum of Irix’s energy coursing through me and made a decision.

  “Can I borrow your car?”

  The vampire slowed to ease through a deep section of water. In a few hours, most of these streets would probably be impassable.

  “Uh, yeah. Sure. As soon as the storm passes.”

  “No. I mean now. I’ll drop you off at Bliss then I’ve got something to do.”

  Ourson risked a quick look at me. “You’re joking. There is no way I’m letting a Yankee tourist run around the city in the middle of a hurricane.”

  “Maryland is south of the Mas
on Dixon line, and, at this point, I think I’m more than a tourist. I’m a demon. I’ll be fine, even in a hurricane. If you don’t want to loan me your car, it’s okay. I’ll just steal one.”

  Not that I really could steal a car. Even if I’d been able to overcome that moral barrier, I had no idea how to hot–wire the thing with either human or demon skills.

  I could hear his teeth grind through the noise of the storm. “I promised Irix I’d keep you safe. That doesn’t include loaning you my car so you can drown, or get squashed by a falling tree.”

  “I’ll be back in a few hours, and then I’ll stay at Bliss until you tell me it’s safe to leave. Promise.”

  His knuckles whitened on the steering wheel, and I remembered that demons lied.

  “I swear on all the souls I Own that I will return to Bliss in no more than two hours and remain there until the storm passes.”

  Not that I Owned any souls, but that vow seemed to satisfy Ourson. He pulled up outside the nightclub and put the Corolla in park, opening the door to the downpour.

  “Be careful, Amber,” he shouted over the noise of wind and rain.

  I scooted over, waving at him as I shut the door. I was drenched, as was the seat, and the car’s dash and steering wheel. Ourson waited in the rain, a vertical slash of darkness in gray as I pulled the car back into the flooded street and eased my way south of the city, towards the marshes and bayous.

  * * *

  39

  Instinct alone got me to the site of the dead cypresses. I hadn’t seen a car since I’d left the city, and the swamp water lapped up over the edges of the bridged roadway, flooding it over a foot in many areas. I’d needed to detour several times to avoid roads flooded beyond the Corolla’s ability to ford. Once at the bayou, I parked smack dab in the center of the street, figuring that no one else would be foolish enough to be driving around in the middle of this mess.

  Within seconds of exiting the car, I was soaked. Eyelashes and eyebrows simply weren’t enough to hold back the rain that dripped into my eyes and stung my skin. I shivered at the cold after a week of intolerable heat and waded out toward the dark shapes that I knew were the dead trees.

  It wasn’t just the need to protect the city and my friends that made me come here. I felt a sense of outrage at the elf who’d killed these trees. In my eyes, he’d betrayed his kind. To destroy a healthy, natural ecosystem for selfish gain was abhorrent. If it was the last thing I did, I’d undo the damage he’d done — I’d at least leave this state no worse than the humans had made it over the centuries.

  Finally I saw the trees; blackened trunks with branches that drooped naked stems into the rising waters. Reaching out, I touched the bark and thought of the trees they’d once been, the trees they’d become after the Bon Nuit ritual.

  Anger, and a sense of injustice, unlocked the store of Irix’s energy I’d held within, powering it beyond even what I’d done at the levees. I felt the ground shudder, the tree twist against my hand. As I opened my eyes, I saw the trees shimmer with golden light, visible even through the driving storm. Golden, like the color of Irix’s eyes.

  I thought of him, the passion in his kisses, the way his eyes devoured me. He’d more than met me halfway, going far beyond a demon’s nature to help me save the city. I hoped I’d see him again, that he’d still care for me when I did. I hoped he’d be proud of what I was doing now, even if he beat me senseless for disobeying him and putting myself at such risk.

  The forest exploded in green and growth, limp branches launching upward and sprouting needles, new trunks rising from the waters to thicken before me. They rose, firm and proud, enveloping the dark sky and easing the wind that drove against them from the south. I smiled, rubbing the rain–blackened bark of the tree. Then I looked up.

  The mage had been the one with the weather magic, but Irix had once told me elves were masters of weather. They created seasons at their whim, rain and sun as they pleased. I was only a half–breed, but I’d felt the spell Basteau had cast. The pattern of energy, the incantations and symbols spun across my mind, forever committed to memory as if they’d been etched there. Maybe, just maybe, I could do something to downgrade this storm.

  Summoning every last bit of energy within myself, I raised my arms to the heavens. As I felt the storm, experienced its power and force, I sensed something familiar — something prickly, like static against my skin. The witches. Their spell was full of power, but it just couldn’t seem to take hold. Like I’d done in the Bon Nuit ritual, I gathered their power to me, held it tightly inside, then launched it in a blast toward the storm.

  Riding the surge of energy into the huge swirl of cloud and wind above, I slowed the storm. It felt like turning off a faucet that had long been rusted. My legs shook, and I sank to my knees in the murky water. The rain still fell, but steady instead of driving. The wind’s roar quieted. The sky lightened enough to see the trees silhouetted against it. My ears rang, unaccustomed to the relative silence. And I heard a shout.

  The angry expletives were in a language I didn’t speak, but having had them shouted at me earlier today, I recognized the voice and dove face down into the swamp water. I just missed being cooked by the fireball that skimmed the bayou’s surface.

  The water warmed around me, and the first thing that went through my mind was that someone had peed in the swamp. Funny as that was, it wasn’t the appropriate time for humor with an elf launching fireballs at me. I felt a surge of energy as I resurfaced above the water and realized the elf was trying to stir up the storm again and reverse what I’d done to dampen it.

  A sort of tug–of–war ensued between us. I was drained of energy, barely able to stand, but in the face of his onslaught, something clicked within, and power rushed through my very bones. It was as if a door opened and a huge conduit began funneling energy into me. My skin prickled with it, and I felt like my hair was standing on end. Realizing that we were at an impasse, the elf gave up, and, with a scream of frustration, launched another fireball at me.

  This one was smaller than the last, and I managed to avoid it. Thankfully, Irix’s leather jacket shielded me from the heat. Another followed that one, and I began wading as quick as I could through the water, trying to evade the elf and head toward the road. My only defense was electricity, but I was reluctant to toss a lightning bolt at this guy with us both standing in two feet of water.

  The elf must have ran out of fireballs, because the next thing I felt was roots emerging from the murky soil beneath my feet to wrap around my legs. I could hear him splashing after me and assumed he meant to hold me in place until he could catch up. I might not be a master of weather, or have any idea how to create a fireball, but plants were mine. I easily stepped free of the roots and played his trick back at him.

  Through the dark and rain, I saw the bold horizontal lines of the roadway ahead. The elf was still pursuing me, but hadn’t gained any. When it came to control of plant life, we were evenly matched. Not bad for a half–breed barely twenty–one years old. My surge of pride was short lived, though, as I realized I’d not have time to get in the Corolla, start it, and get out of range before the elf caught up.

  I was scrambling up the rise to the roadway, still fighting off grasping roots, when I saw a faint flash of light up the road. It couldn’t have been lightning. Was some idiot walking around in a hurricane with a flashlight? Or worse, driving in this downpour? I thought I was the only fool heading into the eye of the storm in a car tonight.

  My run through the swamp had brought me out somewhere else on the roadway, and the Corolla was nowhere in sight. Taking a gamble, I ran south. If I didn’t find the car, maybe I could outrun the elf and manage to lose him at some crossroad, or another bayou. Deep in my heart, I worried I was facing my death. I was only a half–breed, and the man behind me could most likely outrun me on the flat. Giving up wasn’t an option, though, so I poured on the speed and raced in a straight line down the roadway, rain stinging my skin.

  I saw that
flash of dim light again as I rounded a corner and wondered if it really was lightning. I didn’t have any experience with tropical storms or hurricanes. The light worried me less than the thud of footsteps, audible over the pouring rain. The elf was gaining on me. I could practically feel him behind me, his breath on my neck, the brush of his hand against my arm.

  Something grabbed my shoulder, spinning me to the side. I felt a body thud into mine, and I twisted frantically. His hand slipped on the rain–soaked jacket, and a sharp, hot pain lanced my side. The fucker had stabbed me.

  Luckily, Irix’s coat had concealed my form, and the knife missed its mark, tearing through leather and my shirt to skim the skin of my waist. I panicked, realizing how close I’d come to dying. Screaming, I twisted and slipped the leather coat off one shoulder, knotting it around the knife blade that the elf was trying to tug loose.

  The beam swept across us, like a spotlight. Not lightning, but I didn’t have a spare moment to wonder what the hell it was when I was fighting for my life. If this elf got the knife loose, I wouldn’t be so lucky the second strike. There were no plants nearby for me to utilize, and my human fighting skills were next to nil. I’d never taken martial arts, or even been in a cat fight. I’d always been the peacemaker and found myself relying on instincts alone, hoping that the slim chance I had of surviving would roll to my advantage.

  I was yanked to the side with the elf, before falling to the pavement as his hands loosened. Rolling for some much–needed distance and springing to my feet, I took a quick glance behind me to assess the situation before I took off again. What I saw rooted me in place, my mouth open in amazement.

  Irix. He’d stayed. He’d come after me. He was wrestling the elf, pounding him with some kind of energy.

  After the first few hits, Irix began to falter. He’d always been so strong, but right now he seemed exhausted. The elf absorbed his lightning bolts, lashed him with wind and rain, and stabbed him repeatedly with the knife he’d managed to free from my leather jacket. I wasn’t sure what to do. Lightning didn’t seem to affect this elf, and there wasn’t anything else offensive I knew how to do.