Feisty Heroines Romance Collection of Shorts

by D. F. Jones

  But there was nothing. No one.

  No one lurking in the corner, ready to pounce. No obvious threat. Nothing at all. Except something had triggered the motion sensor in this part of the house, and moving toward it, Cathy noticed the unit, confirming her suspicions. It had been movement in this corridor that had initiated the alarm. She entered the security code, deactivating the wailing bell, and tried to calm her pounding heart rate, but it wouldn’t quell. Something had activated the sensor, and whatever it was could still be in the house. Cathy’s instincts validated that view, and her impulses were virtually never wrong

  With a deep breath, she glanced over her shoulder, forcing her feet into the same level of fortitude. It was one thing to be blessed with the supernatural abilities she possessed, yet quite another to face them on your own, night after night. She was a resilient woman, well-versed in the means of her kind and more than able to vanquish an unwelcome being, yet her senses implored caution.

  This was someone else—something Cathy had been forced to deal with numerous times before, and she was ready.

  Turning, she paced down the hallway in her pajamas, her strength emboldened with each new step. The creature who’d triggered her alarm might have had the upper hand, but that only elicited a greater determination to exile the fiend. Cathy hadn’t been expecting visitors tonight, yet it seemed she was to receive at least one, regardless.

  Now it was time to find out who or what disturbed her beauty sleep.

  Damon

  He’d watched her. Night after night for an unquantifiable amount of time, he had observed, scrutinizing the way she lived, the way she ate alone most evenings, the incantations she recited before she slept. Cathy Bateman was a guardian—the guardian in this precious district—and she was a damn good one.

  Damon had witnessed others go up against her and be cast out in a heartbeat, and he wasn’t going to make the same errors. So, he had waited. He waited for the lunar cycle, for the omens to align—for the time to be right—then, on this evening, with the veils between their worlds thinning, he sensed the time had approached. As the clock lurched into the witching hour, he’d slipped inside the house, appearing right in her bedroom, and in his usual unhurried pace, he’d loomed over her sleeping form.

  The things the others had said had been true. Cathy was angelic, her sleeping form beautiful even as she curled into a ball beneath the sheets. Damon eyed the guardian who had caused him so much grief. How could this tiny little human have provoked such angst in a creature as powerful as he? Yet even as the riddle flashed through his mind, the solution was obvious. Cathy wasn’t just any human. She descended from a long line of strong guardians, the latest to step forward from her bloodline and protect the people of this village. She might look weak and diminutive in the bed, but Damon knew better. He knew his influence was useless with the enchantments she’d cast around the room. His lips sealed tight, his power impotent in the face of her magic.

  With a low grunt, he withdrew. Damon could feel the weight of Cathy’s influence bearing down upon him like an oppressive heat he couldn’t push away, and the sensation forced his retreat. He could have disappeared the way he entered, using the portal to vanish from Cathy’s room, but the sense of her engulfed him, overwhelming his judgment.

  Unthinkingly, he shifted into the hallway, disgruntled at his own shortcomings. Why hadn’t he foreseen the command of Cathy’s invocations? Damon had seen her conjure enough over the weeks he’d been watching, but then that was the problem with surveying from the sidelines. His research had revealed a capable guardian, yet it gave him no awareness of the way she’d affect him—of the power of her charms.

  Just as the reality washed over Damon’s flesh, the alarm activated behind him. He glared at the thing as though the small box in the corner of the hall would be intimidated by his merciless amethyst stare, and then he was moving, jumping to the ceiling and crawling back into the shadows.

  Cathy appeared a moment later. She stumbled out in her nightwear, and even in the dark, Damon could sense her brow furrow as she felt for the light switch. Of course, by the time the bulb flooded illumination into the hallway, he was no longer visible to the human eye, but he was there, watching her.

  And he knew Cathy would be aware of his dark presence.

  Chapter 2

  Cathy

  Whatever it was, the intruder’s lingering scent in the air clung to her skin everywhere she wandered like it wanted to suffocate her.

  Perhaps, it did.

  That’s how it always was with Cathy. The gift she’d inherited from her mother had only grown stronger over the years until she’d been ready to take on the role of guardian herself.

  Her gaze darted around the upstairs of her home. At first glance, things seemed normal, yet in her heart, Cathy knew they were not. It was here—whatever it was—an ominous male presence which had roused her, and now, it probably wanted to play. She lowered her gaze and collected her thoughts before she called out.

  “Who is here?” Cathy’s voice had taken on the steely quality it often did when she communed. The ability to harness her innate gifts had taken years to employ, and even now, she hadn’t mastered them. Yet every time she drew on her strength, Cathy seemed to get fiercer, a little bolder, more thunderous.

  She liked it. This was who she was. Strong, defiant, and bullish about what was hers—hers to employ and hers to protect. She’d guarded the souls of the people here for years already, her natural life extended, it seemed, by her extraordinary gift.

  “Come on!” She lifted her chin, sensing her guest lurked somewhere above her. It was a common trait of those who walked the night to disappear from human sight, but it wouldn’t work on Cathy for long. “I know you’re here. I can smell you, fiend. What are you waiting for?”

  “How about the element of surprise?”

  The voice seemed to echo from all around Cathy, its vibration low and whirring as though it sought to envelop her, but Cathy shook the sensation away. It was a trick invoked by even the most rookie imp, and while it worked on the average person, it wouldn’t be enough to capture her.

  Cathy arched an eyebrow at the question. “How is that going?”

  A dark chuckle reverberated around her. “Not as well as I’d hoped, Cathy Bateman.”

  So, the fiend knew her name? She exhaled at the realization. Good. Let it know her. Let it cower to her.

  “I am not cowering, Cathy.”

  And it could read her thoughts, as well? That was a new one.

  “Then why are you hiding, imp?” Cathy’s hands landed on her slim hips as she flicked her blonde hair back from her face. “You have intruded. You have come to me, and now you choose to hide. You’re nothing but a coward!”

  “Wrong.”

  It was only one word, but the resonance of it rattled along the hallway like the bass of an electric amplifier. The light fittings shook causing her body to tremble in an involuntary shudder. She inhaled, summoning all her strength. Anything that could affect the atmosphere with such authority had to be ancient or powerful. She gulped back the notion.

  “I do not hide, Cathy.”

  “You choose not to show yourself.” She shook her head as if to reinforce the point. “Who are you, and why do you disturb me?”

  She sensed the fiend fall from its hiding place on the ceiling in the far corner, her gaze following it, though there was still nothing to see. Staring into the spot where the light illuminated the hall, it began to manifest. Either it took a vast amount of energy, or the creature just wanted to put on a show, but as soon as the black outline of the man became visible, the bulb overhead flickered. The swish of electricity reverberated around Cathy’s head, and her heart pounded faster, though she refused to be swayed by the gestures.

  Cathy wasn’t afraid. She had never been afraid since Malium, the first demon she’d encountered, and she had neither the time nor the inclination to begin with fear again now. Briefly, she closed her eyes, sensing the swirl of pr
otective energy around her. Let the intruder have its moment. It would know who was boss soon enough.

  The physical display began—as was so often the case—at the fiend’s feet. Cathy saw the outline of large feet fill before her eyes, the specter growing upward into dark trousers and a honed, muscular chest. Within a moment, the presence of a man stood a few feet from where she stood, the final fragments of him still forming as she took in his towering frame.

  Who are you? She sent the question to him again, though this time, it never escaped her lips. The trepidation in her simmered at the way his lips curled. Dark, amethyst eyes met her query, his brow rising as if he couldn’t believe she had just made the demand.

  “Come now.” Fully formed, the stranger hooked his thumbs into his trouser pockets, blowing the strands of long, dark brown hair from his mesmerizing eyes. “We both know I’m not going to tell you, Cathy.”

  She pressed her lips into a hard line. Well, of course, he wouldn’t. The fiend was smart enough to know as soon as Cathy had identified him, she was well on her way to casting him back to whatever wasteland he usually resided. She doubted he had any means of knowing how she intended to make sure he succumbed.

  “I will find out.” She took a step toward him. “I will find out, and this will be over, demon.”

  The stranger grinned, revealing near perfect, white teeth. “Is that what I am?”

  “You know what you are,” she growled in his direction. “We both know. You’ve come to oppress and overpower, but you can’t subjugate me.”

  Cathy’s voice had a mocking, sing-song quality. The creature may appear to be bigger and stronger, but that was mere vanity. Fiends always assumed a looming presence would be enough to overpower her. Cathy was neither impressed nor cowed by the manifestation. She had a job to do, and she intended to do it. Whatever this creature was, it wouldn’t get past her.

  Of that, she was certain.

  “Is that what I’m doing?” He ran the tip of his tongue over the white teeth, those incredible eyes flashing at Cathy. “Is that what I’ve come for?”

  She ignored its distracting queries, her attention lingering on his compelling gaze. In all her years of guardianship, Cathy had never seen one like it. Of course, the sprite would create the illusion of anything it thought would aid its endeavor—smoke and mirrors were always the friend of the fiend—yet it seemed this one had truly outdone himself. Tall and dark with the most remarkable bone structure, this one was downright alluring, a fact he was evidently aware of when he strode in Cathy’s direction.

  Chapter 3

  Damon

  Damon wanted to smile at Cathy’s line of inquiry. It had been precisely what he’d expected. The guardian would seek to identify him and use the knowledge to ostracize his soul from her presence. His lips twitched at the thought—as if Damon had a soul left to banish—and instinctively, he closed the distance between them.

  “I will beat you.” There wasn’t a flicker of fear in the woman while her neck craned up to meet his insistent gaze. “You know it, and so do I.”

  She was gutsy, Damon would give her that. Not that he hadn’t already been aware. Cathy’s reputation for her no-nonsense approach to guardianship preceded her, but to see it in the flesh was truly something. The fight in her sent a tingle of heat up the length of his back, and while he ensured it was a glower he shot in Cathy’s direction, he wondered if she could see past the façade.

  Could she tell how captivating Damon really found her? How enchanting she was? Would she know the undisclosed desires he harbored in the same way he could detect them from her? And Damon could sense the need in the feisty little blonde.

  Focused on the task, she may be, but she was also a human—a red-blooded woman—with the same needs as any other. With her small features and elfin looks, Cathy used her beauty as a mask—a tool to capture and exorcise—but it wasn’t going to work on Damon. With the year-end approaching, he was hellbent on subduing the beguiling Miss Bateman and bingeing himself on as many innocents as he could possess.

  “I think you’re quite wrong, Cathy.” Damon suppressed the smile, which threatened to rise. “This is a game from which only one of us can triumph, and I do not hold much hope for you.”

  Cathy’s eyes narrowed. “Then you, fiend, have already made your first mistake.” She folded her arms across the front of her pajamas. “Underestimate me at your peril.”

  He lifted his palms in a conciliatory gesture. “I would never dare to fall foul of such folly, Cathy. I am well aware of your ferocity. I know your will is as strong as mine, and perhaps, your knowledge is as great as well.”

  Damon’s memory flitted back to the overbearing enchantment which had caused his retreat into the hall in the first place. Only a witch with encompassing power would have been able to cast those hexes, but then, only one with such ability would have been promoted to a guardian in the first place.

  “Then why do you try me?” Her blonde eyebrow arched as she spoke. “If you know you cannot win, why not just cede?”

  He couldn’t help but laugh at her assessment. “Is that what I said?” he asked, genuinely bemused at her assumptions. “I cannot win? Cathy, if I truly believed that, I would not have come at all.”

  Cathy’s expression hardened. “So, it is an impasse then? Neither of us willing to back down.”

  Damon sneered down at her thundering face. An impasse? Powerful Cathy might be, but she was still only human, and those comments exposed the frail condition.

  “An impasse?” he repeated, drawing her attention north to meet his gaze. “Well, that goes without saying. I was thinking of something a little more rewarding.”

  Her lips parted, and for the first time since he’d manifested, she shivered.

  “A battle?” she inquired, meeting his eyes with a determined stare. “A challenge you must overcome before you can pass?”

  Now, that was more like it, but naturally, Cathy’s words were out of step. Damon already faced the challenge she referred to—Cathy was that challenge. He sought a far graver outcome, understanding instinctively what so many others had failed to comprehend. There was no passing Cathy Bateman. The only way to feast on the array of souls she protected was to remove her completely—to pulverize her—and prove to the people who looked to her for hope what Damon had learned many years ago—all manner of terrible things were possible when their gods chose to look the other way.

  There was fire burning in what remained of his heart when he finally chose to respond to her question. “A war, Miss Bateman.” Damon’s voice echoed up and down the length of the hallway, and Cathy’s eyes widened at the haunting sound.

  “I seek war.”

  Chapter 4

  Cathy

  So, it was to be war then? Cathy pushed back her shoulders and stared into the amethyst pools of Damon’s eyes. They might be the most alluring she’d ever seen in a demon, but Cathy reminded herself of the soulless pool of despair she was staring into—the abyss. If she continued to be so enthralled by the temptation those eyes offered, that abyss was going to stare right back at her—to pierce her, consume her.

  “War it is, then.” She slipped her hand into her pajama pocket and gripped her crystals for support. Envisaging a ring of glowing light around her body, Cathy steeled herself. “I am ready for you, fiend.”

  “I am pleased to hear it.” He lifted his right palm, those purple orbs flickering closed, and all at once, the air around Cathy began to tremble and shake.

  Panting, she fought to compose herself, willing her powers to rise and take on the creature’s assault, yet to her horror, the brute seemed too strong. He temporarily overcame her, taking control of her arms, which slipped behind her back despite her insistence they remain in place.

  “I know about your wrath, Cathy.” His eyes opened again, his ominous grin appearing while his hand rose in the air. Somehow, every inch it ascended, and Cathy seemed less able to move, his motion containing her, restraining her, holding her in plac
e. “And I know about your skills because I have been watching you.”

  She forced her gaze in his direction, her lips parting to respond even though she spoke no words.

  “But you do not know me.” The demon moved closer. “You do not know my wrath or my abilities. You, Miss Bateman, are ill prepared to go to war.”

  “I am ready for you.”

  Cathy pushed the words out in one breath. At this moment, he was stronger, but she knew this game of old. This was a battle of wills, and Cathy never lost those encounters.

  Cathy didn’t lose.

  He took a step closer to Cathy, the dark fabric of his attire grazing her bare feet as he loomed. Instinctively, Cathy lifted her chin in defiance. Her heart might be about to hammer its way into her throat, but she wouldn’t let it show—she would never let it show. Even if the fiend could read her thoughts, she wouldn’t falter. The demon had been right. Her powers were as great, her will just as strong.

  “You won’t make it past my enchantments.” Cathy spat the words at him. “Even if you get past me, which you won’t, you won’t be able to penetrate the hexes surrounding the village.”

  His lips twitched, and if she didn’t know better, there was a flicker of something in those hypnotic orbs—what was that? Realization? Or acceptance?

  “Perhaps.” The demon’s expressions softened, his hold on her relaxing slightly while his hand lowered. “Maybe you’re correct. You are, after all, well versed in this vexing witchcraft.”

  She sniggered at his assessment. For centuries, her kind had been associated with the satanic, known for aiding the demon’s endeavor, yet her bloodline had spent generations doing the precise opposite. Their influence, it seemed, was legendary, even among the creatures of the night.