Demon Rising (Dark Rising Trilogy Book 1)

by DeAnna Browne

  She pressed the wound closed as she taped it down.

  Becca winced. “One hell of a truce.”

  “I’m sorry,” Grace said as she adjusted the bandage. Then, catching Becca’s gaze, added, “Not only for the bandage. I guess growing up in a magical household has given me a few reasons not to trust others.”

  “Don’t apologize. I get it.” Becca had her share of trust issues.

  Grace finished taping down a white bandage. “Don’t get the wrong idea. I will criticize your poor fashion sense at every turn, and I don’t do braids.”

  Becca let a laugh escape. “My clothes aren’t that bad.”

  “Really? There’s a whole wardrobe in there and you pick the colors of a drab sky.” Grace motioned to her dirty shirt on the floor. “I don’t understand what these guys see in you.”

  Becca ignored last sarcastic comment. Grace loved to make her squirm for fun. What did the woman think? It was time for a fashion show?

  Caleb’s heavy steps sounded on the wood staircase. “Hey, ladies, this rabbit isn’t going to eat itself.”

  “Just because you’re all domestic, doesn’t mean you can order us around,” Grace hollered back.

  He peeked into the bedroom. “What’s going on?”

  “Just finishing up.” Becca tightened her towel. “Rabbit sounds great.”

  Caleb reached for her. “What happened to your arm?”

  “Nothing really,” Becca said.

  She couldn’t help but notice Grace, stepping back.

  “It’s just a scratch. Grace was helping me bandage it.”

  Caleb turned, not hiding the surprise on his face. “Really? Thanks.”

  “No problem. I’ll go stir the soup.” Grace headed out of the room.

  Becca wondered, not for the first time, what Grace’s relationship with Caleb was.

  “It was the fox, wasn’t it? I shouldn’t have let you do it.” Caleb kept his hand on Becca’s arm, focusing on the wound and ignoring the fact she wasn’t dressed.

  She didn’t forget and used her other hand to make sure the towel stayed up. “It’s just a scratch. I had more control by the end.” Becca was grateful for Darion’s support. Caleb couldn’t back down now because of a few scratches.

  Without warning, Caleb pulled her into a warm embrace. “I don’t know if I can lose you again. But I know I can’t convince you to stay behind.” He knew her better than that. Emotion tightened his voice, something she hadn’t seen from him since they were rescued.

  She relaxed into his arms and let herself feel the worry and grief that had been plaguing her for days. His shirt smelled of the forest, crisp wintergreen trees, fallen leaves, and that special something that reminded her of home, of the countless days running free with Caleb at her side. Everything she would never have again.

  He kissed the top of her head as he held her close. “Promise me you’ll be safe. You have to survive this.”

  She rested her cheek against his chest, wishing she could promise that. What hurt her was asking her friends to come along. Was she willing to sacrifice her friends in order to save her sister? No. But she wouldn’t leave her sister there, either. Words failed her as she couldn’t think of anything reassuring to say.

  He stepped back, but kept her in his arms and forced her gaze up, brushing back her wet hair. “I won’t lose you Becca. Not again.”

  Such a simple action, that took this embrace to a different level. One she wasn’t sure she was ready for. It was wonderful to have Caleb back. He was her best friend first. Anything more, she wasn’t sure about.

  Pulling her close, he closed the gap between them. He leaned forward as if he was going to kiss her. Turning her head, she laid it on his chest—not ready to hurt Caleb or commit to something between them.

  There, in the mirror, was Darion’s reflection watching from out in the hall. His face held a pain that crushed Becca. She broke the embrace.

  “What’s wrong?” Caleb asked, his face fallen a bit.

  By the time she turned again, Darion was gone. Dammit.

  “Nothing. Just seeing things,” Becca lied and continued, trying to be truthful. “Caleb, I’m not ready for this, for a relationship. Things have changed.”

  A cold bucket of ice water would not have been as effective. He dropped his arms and stepped back. “I understand. We better not keep that rabbit waiting.” He quickly turned down the hall, but not before Becca glimpsed the pain of rejection on his face.

  Guilt sank deep into her bones. How could she manage to not only put Caleb’s life in danger, but make him feel like crap too? Lately, she felt like a disaster, hurting everyone nearby.

  She headed down stairs. How could she explain to Darion what was between Caleb and her when she didn’t know herself? They had grown up together for years. He was the closest thing she had to family right now. She couldn’t push him away.

  And why was she so worried about Darion? The obvious truth slapped her in the face. She cared for Darion. If she really wanted to be honest, she’d never stopped. She left because she didn’t trust him. Two completely different things. And now she trusted him with the life of Caleb and her sister. Where did that leave her?

  Forget it. She needed to focus on her magic, and saving her sister. She’d worry about the rest in a couple days—that is, if I’m still alive.

  She wore black jeans and a red shirt as she headed downstairs, just to show Grace she could. The smell of onions and cooked rabbit welcomed Becca to the kitchen. Her stomach growled with approval. “That smells amazing.”

  Caleb stood in front of the large gas stove, a tall pot in front of him, while Grace rolled a cigarette at the table. He grabbed a nearby bowl to fill, avoiding Becca’s gaze. “Can’t beat fresh.”

  “You’re right.” Awkwardness settled among them. She needed to clear the air between them tonight, before they left. Even if she wasn’t sure how to do that.

  Grace lifted her head, watching them back and forth as if deciphering what she missed. “What happened?” she asked. She was never one to beat around the bush.

  “Nothing,” Becca snapped. She headed over to grab spoons and bowls.

  “How boring,” Grace said, the unlit cigarette resting in her lips.

  Becca glowered at Grace and wished she could use her magic to shut Grace up. Instead, she set out dishes for dinner.

  “Hey, guys.” Darion stood at the doorway to the kitchen, no trace of what he saw upstairs bothering him. “I just got off the phone. We’ll need to head out of here by noon tomorrow. I talked to some people. I’ll be allowed at the gathering and can bring you three as my indentured servants.”

  Grace slapped the table. “That’s great. I knew you could maneuver something.”

  “Sounds better than offering up Becca on the side of the road to Jeremiah,” Caleb said.

  Darion forced a smile, but his eyes hid an uneasiness only Becca would recognize. The other two didn’t know him. This wasn’t as good of a thing as he was trying to sell.

  “How?” she asked.

  “What does it matter?” Grace asked. “He figured it out. Be thankful.”

  “I just wanted to give you a heads up. I’m going to grab a shower before dinner.” He hurried upstairs.

  Becca started after him. The uneasiness in her stomach would not settle down.

  “Becca, what is it?” Caleb stopped her.

  She paused at the door. “Something isn’t right. There’s something he isn’t telling us.”

  “He’d tell us if we needed to know,” Grace said.

  “Maybe...”

  Caleb grabbed a nearby bowl. “Grab a bite first. He’ll be back down soon.”

  She was too restless for dinner. “Save me some. I’ll be back.”

  Heading upstairs, she wondered how and why Ryma would now let Darion into the meeting. She knocked on his door. There wasn’t an answer. It turned with a click, and she barged in.

  “Hey,” Darion shouted his shirt in his hands. “I didn’
t say you could come in.”

  She closed the door behind her. His room was spotless, even his bed was made. She’d forgotten how meticulous he always was. She sat on the bed. “We need to talk.”

  He put his shirt back on and leaned on the desk across the room. “Come on in. Make yourself comfortable, why don’t you? I shouldn’t have to remind you what a double standard this is.”

  She knew Darion well enough to know something didn’t add up. “What’s going on?”

  “Ha. What isn’t going on? Jeremiah is after us, you’re a magician, barely trained, and we’re going to visit Ryma and Jeremiah tomorrow.” He ran a hand through his hair, pulling on it. “Is that not enough for you? Want more drama? Maybe you could be carrying Caleb’s child too.”

  “What are you talking about?” His dark humor had a biting edge that Becca had rarely seen. “I haven’t even kissed Caleb.”

  Relief briefly crossed his face and then he resumed pacing. She’d never seen him like this, except for when he first found her at Jeremiah’s.

  She approached him and grabbed his hand, forcing him to look her in the eyes. “How did you get us into the coven meeting?”

  “I pulled in some favors, and got an invite.” He raised a cocky brow. “I know some people who know some people.”

  She searched that false bravado for something more. “You told us you’re just as wanted as we are. That there’s no way you could get in.”

  He pulled back, shaking off her hold, and went to the window, staring out into the graying night.

  “Just tell me.” Her voice rose, tearing a bit. Silence filled the room. Why wouldn’t he just say it? Was it that bad? “Do you want to know why we really broke up? It’s because you wouldn’t talk to me.”

  A warm wave of magic rippled through the room. He turned, all pretense gone. His eyes held an angry spark to them. “We broke up because you couldn’t stand to date a magician.” A sarcastic smile lit his face.

  “Maybe. Or maybe you could have trusted me enough, to tell me the truth.”

  “Yeah. You can barely trust your own magic. You’re going to trust mine?”

  He might have a point. She thought back to the training, when she felt his magic. It was warm and strong. Nothing like the demons. “I’m sorry about how I acted. I trust you, magic or not. How did you get us in?”

  He closed the gap between them. Inches from each other, he stared fixedly at her. The electricity, which Becca knew was magic, grew heavy between them.

  “I gave them what they wanted,” he said.

  It took a moment to catch up, and she prayed she was wrong. Her words crawled out as whisper. “You gave them you?”

  “Bingo.” He turned away, grabbing a nearby towel, and attempted to walk around her to the door. “Now if you’ll excuse me.”

  She grasped his hand, not ready to let this go. “You’re not leaving until you tell me what that means.”

  His mouth drew down in a scowl. “I don’t have time for—”

  “Please,” she pleaded. She wasn’t great at begging, but she’d do it if she had to.

  He threw his towel on the floor. “I’ll pledge my loyalty to Ryma. That way we’ll have his protection against Jeremiah.”

  “Okay. So we’ll pretend to be on his side, then grab Elizabeth and take off. What’s the problem?” She didn’t understand.

  “There is no leaving for me, Becca. Ryma has wanted a willing blood pledge from me for years. I’m the best pyro this side of the country. My parents’ allies are the only reason it hasn’t happened sooner. Why do you think I met you at a Mundane bar?”

  When they had broken up, she’d figured he was some sick magician who preyed on weaker Mundanes. But now, holding onto his hand, she knew that wasn’t true.

  “I’d been hiding out as much as I could, avoiding the coven’s attention for the past few years.”

  What did she do? In an effort to save her sister, she’d just put Darion up on a platter for Ryma. She squeezed his hand. “Don’t do it. You don’t have to go. I don’t want—”

  A warm current of electricity passed through their hands. “It would have happened eventually. Don’t worry about it. We’ll get your sister and get you a car out of the city. I’ll feel better knowing you’re out of their grasp.”

  A hallow coldness settled in her stomach. He couldn’t. Her mouth opened but the words didn’t come. What could she say? Not goodbye. She wasn’t ready for that. And thank you was far from adequate. She couldn’t let him do this.

  Before he could say anything else, she pulled him close and kissed him. It wasn’t because he was sacrificing himself, because he had helped her save Caleb, or because he saved her from Jeremiah. She hadn’t stopped thinking about those lips since she’d kissed them last. And she would hate herself if she didn’t.

  His body froze at first, his mouth non-responsive. She leaned in closer, a pleasant warmth coursing through her body. Then in a rush of hot magic, he wrapped an arm around her waist and kissed her back with an impatient hunger.

  She wasn’t ready to let him go. Ever. As if sensing her thoughts, he pulled her tight against him. His body was so close that it set her skin ablaze with insatiable hunger. He traced her body, down her back, then grasped her waist, leaving a trail of heat.

  She had missed Darion, longer than she’d admitted. Every touch, every kiss, made her realize how she couldn’t live without him. He began kissing down her neck, and all conscious thought fled for a moment. She held him tighter, knowing it would never be tight enough.

  “Don’t go,” she begged. “We’ll figure something out.” She couldn’t leave him with Ryma. She couldn’t imagine leaving him period.

  He paused and leaned back slightly, the familiar distance seeping into their embrace. “How come I feel you want me the most when you can’t have me?”

  “That’s not it,” she protested. It had taken her time to trust him again, to realize why he lied in the first place. But she wanted him, today and forever. “Can’t you see how I feel?”

  He silenced her word with a gentle kiss. It held a distant goodbye that broke her heart. She’d had a glimpse of being back with him, only to have it ripped away.

  “Don’t worry, Becca, I don’t take it personally.” He picked up his towel and left the bedroom.

  She sank onto the bed, a cold loneliness enveloping her. Her heart shattered into a million pieces. When she first left Darion, she promised herself she’d never get back together with him. Leaving him hurt too much. So much for empty promises.

  She struggled to imagine leaving the city, moving on without him. She had taken it for granted that he’d always be there. His warm strength had carried her more than she realized.

  He might think he was going to be this sacrificing hero, but she wouldn’t let that happen. She couldn’t. Ryma couldn’t have him without a fight. Too bad she didn’t have an idea of how to stop him.

  After a quiet meal, Becca headed to bed early. She was asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow, too exhausted to process all that had happened throughout the day. Unfortunately, her dreams provided her no respite either.

  She wandered around, lost and confused, in a dense fog. Cries for help pierced the air. Elizabeth’s voice. Becca searched and searched, panic overcoming her senses, but her sister was nowhere to be found.

  “Elizabeth!” she screamed until her voice went hoarse.

  The cries grew to shrieks of pain. Becca ran until her legs collapsed, and she sank on the misty floor, crying and screaming for it to stop. Where was her sister?

  Becca bolted up in bed. Sweat plastered her shirt to her skin, and a scream stuck in her throat. “Just a dream,” she told herself.

  She needed to talk to Darion. Despite the lack of magic, what if somehow she was connected to Elizabeth? She needed to make sure. Or she would be leaving to find Elizabeth tonight.

  When she closed her eyes again, the cries echoed in her mind. She jumped out of bed and went to Darion’s room. She stopped,
hand poised to knock.

  How could she bother him again? There last conversation flooded her thoughts. He was giving everything as it is.

  She’d read the book. There was no way the dreams could be connected. Becca didn’t even have magic until recently. She dropped her hand. She had more to worry about than some bad dreams.

  Since she wasn’t going back to sleep soon, she figured she’d grab a bite to eat and work over the plan for tomorrow. Maybe there were some leftovers in the fridge.

  Dim lights led the way down the staircase. Her bare feet slapped the frigid wood floor. The first floor was completely dark. Becca felt along the walls for a light.

  “Where are those damn lights?” she muttered, following the wall around to the kitchen. Finally, she found the switch and flipped it on. She blinked several times, adjusting to the light.

  A man with long hair sat at the island. He held a type of thick gun in his hand. A short dark man, actually a Soultorn, stood behind him.

  She blinked again, wondering if this was still a dream.

  The guy took a swig from his flask. “So glad you could make it down on your own. It saves me the trouble.”

  Her heart raced with panic. Everyone else was asleep. How did they find them?

  The Soultorn winked. This wasn’t a social call.

  She turned to run, her mouth open to scream, but nothing came out.

  CHAPTER 32

  Darion’s head pounded as he struggled to wake up. He briefly opened his eyes then snapped them shut. Panic struck him to the bone. He wasn’t at the cabin.

  That meant someone with enough strength broke into the cabin and grabbed him without even waking him. Darion couldn’t believe he could be so stupid. The call with Ryma and fight with Becca threw him for a loop. After not sleeping for several nights, he passed out last night without setting sufficient wards. He didn’t think he needed them.

  Before he opened his eyes, he pushed out with his magic. There was one other magician in the room. The wards were some of the strongest he’d ever encountered. He knew where he was. Darion wasn’t leaving soon.