Hunt the Darkness

Chapter Five

Sally hastily finished casting the spell of protection, not for the first time appreciating her mother’s sadistic habit of forcing her daughter to the very limit of endurance then making her perform spell after spell.

On one memorable occasion, she’d even beaten Sally until she was barely conscious and then demanded she levitate a boulder that weighed almost a ton.

At the time Sally had violently hated her mother for her ruthless training, but she couldn’t deny that it had kept her alive on more than one occasion.

Now she had to hope it came to the rescue once again.

Blocking out the ringing in her ears and the sluggish beat of her heart, Sally concentrated on the magic that stirred in the air.

This magic was different from her demon powers.

It wasn’t an organic release of the magic that flowed through her body.

No, it was a fierce battle that demanded total focus to leash the elements that surrounded her.

Muttering the last of the incantation, Sally tipped the potion onto the floor, releasing the magic.

With an audible hiss the power spread like a dome over the circle, the shimmering spiderweb invisible to all but her eyes and impenetrable to almost any weapon.

The candles flickered and Roke tensed, the air inside the circle frosty as his power surged.

“You have the barrier up?” he demanded, unable to sense magic.

“Yes.” She grimaced, already feeling the drain on her inner resources. “It won’t hold up for long.”

The pale eyes flared with fury as he reached to gently touch the blood running down the side of her face before moving to brush away the similar drip of blood from her nose.

“You’re hurt,” he rasped.

“I’ll be fine,” she assured him. Although she was only half demon, she still healed far faster than a mere human. Thank the goddess. If she’d been mortal that strange blast of vibrations would have turned her insides to goo. Not the most pleasant way to die. “What the hell was that?”

He grimaced. “Magic?”

“None that I’ve ever encountered before.” She pushed back her hair, feeling a layer of perspiration on her forehead despite the chill in the air. “Can you sense how many are out there?”

His attention shifted toward the back door, a dagger that was the size of a small sword in his hand.

“Just one.”

“Demon?”

“Yes.”

She frowned at his absent tone. “You don’t sound very certain.”

“My senses tell me that it’s a male Miera demon.”

“But?”

“But that species of demons are pacifist. They don’t have any offensive weapons.” He paused, his gaze still focused on the door. “At least none that are natural.”

Well something had nearly liquefied several of her vital organs.

“Could he have a human weapon?” she demanded.

Who knew what the humans were secretly building at Area 51?

Death rays . . . photon guns . . . light sabers.

“Anything’s possible,” he muttered.

“Great.”

Abruptly he turned to face her, his expression hard.

“Listen to me, Sally, I want you to—”

“No,” she interrupted.

His brows snapped together. “Can I at least finish?”

“No.”

“Dammit, Sally.”

“I know what you’re going to say.” She lowered her voice to mimic his sexy growl. “Sally, run away like a good little witch while I play the conquering hero.”

He made a sound of annoyance. “You read too many romance novels.”

True. She loved romance novels.

Why not?

It wasn’t as if she were ever going to have a real-life Prince Charming sweep her off her feet.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” She pointed a finger in his face. “You want me to run and hide while you stay and fight.”

He muttered a low curse, leaning forward until they were nose to nose.

“Would you rather I asked you to stay and fight while I run away?”

She held her ground, meeting him glare for glare.

“I’d rather you accept that I might be able to help. I’m not completely worthless, you know.”

“I never . . .” He pulled back, a nerve twitching at the edge of his mouth. “Christ. There’s no winning this argument.”

“Then don’t waste time on it,” she suggested. “We need a plan.”

“Too late,” he muttered, grabbing the music box as the back door was thrust open.

Sally held her breath as a shadow fell across the floor and a delicate creature stepped into the kitchen.

She gave a choked sound of surprise as she studied the chubby demon with a round head and translucent skin that was nearly hidden beneath the brown robe.

Expecting a towering troll-like figure, or even a cyborg, Sally blinked in shock.

“Is that a Miera demon?”

He shifted close enough for her to feel the rigid tension of his muscles.

“Yes.”

“He looks like a banker,” she muttered, but despite the creature’s bland appearance, she found herself pressing against Roke’s shoulder as he crept near.

The entire room was overwhelmed with a choking menace that made her hair stand on end.

Moving with a fluid ease that seemed odd for the pudgy body, the Miera slowly walked around the edge of the circle, flicking out a forked tongue as if it could sense the magic.

“Lower your shields,” the demon at last commanded, his human English remarkably polished.

Like a posh Englishman.

Sally shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

He halted directly before them, his tongue still flicking. “I mean you no harm.”

“That would be easier to believe if you hadn’t just tried to kill us,” Roke drawled.

“All I want is a box,” the creature said. “Give it to me and I will walk away.”

Sally hissed in shock.

Stupidly she hadn’t actually considered why they would suddenly be attacked by a strange demon. And even if she had, she wouldn’t have immediately guessed it had anything to do with the box.

It had, after all, sat in this abandoned cottage for years without attracting attention.

Beside her Roke smiled, clearly having suspected why the demon had attacked. He held up the box so the glyphs etched in the polished wood were visible in the candlelight.

“You mean this box?” he taunted.

A flick of the tongue. “Yes.”

“Why?” Roke prodded. “Is there something special about it?”

“It belongs to me.”

“Odd. You don’t look fey.”

The pale, round face remained emotionless, but the sense of malevolence thickened in the air.

Sally frowned. Somehow she suspected that the demon wasn’t deliberately trying to frighten them with the heavy atmosphere of evil.

Instead it was as if it was . . . leaking out of him.

“It was a gift,” the demon smoothly countered.

Roke tapped the top of the box with his dagger, his gaze noting the intruder’s most subtle reaction.

Vampires were masters at detecting weakness in their enemies.

“What does it do?”

“Nothing.” The creature lifted a hand. “It’s merely a decoration.”

Roke shook his head. “You don’t risk war with the vampires over a trinket.”

Genuine confusion rippled over the Miera’s face, his body seeming to smudge and flicker at the edges. What the heck? Was it an illusion?

“I have no fight with the vampires.”

“You will,” Roke assured him. “Styx takes it quite personally when someone tries to kill one of his clan chiefs.”

There was a hesitation and Sally belatedly understood Roke’s tactic.

He was judging the desperation of the creature not only by revealing that he was a clan chief, but also by tapping the box with the dagger. It would prove just how important the box was to the Miera and how anxious he was to get his hands on it.

“As I said, give me the box and there will be no need for bloodshed,” the demon at last commanded, clearly worried his box might be damaged by the dagger.

“You haven’t said what it does,” Roke countered, his attention focused on the Miera who was once again walking around the circle even as he spoke directly into her mind.

Be ready to run....

Sally swallowed a tiny gasp. Hadn’t she told him not to do that?

And if she hadn’t, then that was something that needed to be taken care of ASAP.

Well, just as soon as they were out of trouble.

“The shield is weakening,” the Miera pronounced, flicking his tongue with obvious satisfaction.

Roke covertly slid his dagger back into the holster at his lower back.

“If you attack us you risk destroying the box,” he reminded the demon, reaching to grasp her hand.

“There are some risks worth taking,” the demon hissed, his pale eyes abruptly morphing to a startling black that was slit with red.

Sally might have been wigged out by the strange eyes if she hadn’t been desperately struggling to maintain the shield.

The past three weeks had taken their toll.

Her magical tank was running on empty.

The cracks in the shield were beginning to form when she felt a warning blast of frigid air.

Roke’s power.

Familiar with the bad, bad things that could happen when the vampire released his innate talent, she made no protest when he yanked her to her feet and shoved her toward the door.

“Sally, now,” he barked, trusting her to lower the shield in time for them to leap over the candles.

The demon gave an eerie growl of fury, but before he could react there was a shower of splinters as the overhead beams shattered beneath Roke’s power. In the next second Sally was tossed out the door and the cottage that had withstood a century of violent storms, a rare earthquake, and an attack by a rival witch, collapsed into a pile of rubble.

Holy shit.

Roke clutched Sally’s fingers in one hand and the box in the other as he headed straight for the nearby shed.

“That was quite a trick,” she muttered, her steps shaky as she struggled to keep pace.

“It won’t hold him for long,” he said in absent tones, his gaze skimming the barren landscape.

“What are you doing?”

“Looking for a vehicle.” He hissed in frustration as he realized they had no easy means of escape. He hadn’t heard the approach of a car, but that was hardly surprising. It might be humiliating to admit, but when Sally was near he tended to be dangerously distracted. “How did the bastard get here?”

“On foot?” she suggested.

“Possible, but Mieras aren’t as physically strong as most demons. They rarely travel more than a few miles beyond their lair.” He muttered a curse. There were way too many questions with no answers. “We’re going to have to make a run for it.”

She staunchly squared her shoulders despite her obvious weariness.

“Okay.”

His lips twisted. He didn’t doubt she would drive herself until she collapsed into a coma. And all without once asking for help.

She’d been alone too long.

Been hurt too many times.

What she needed was a kind, patient man who could tenderly heal the wounds that life had inflicted.

Not an ill-tempered, loner of a vampire who’d made a vow to devote his life to his clan.

Unfortunately he was all she had.

“Will you trust me to keep you safe?” he abruptly demanded.

There was a predictable hesitation, but after a long pause she gave a nod.

“Yes.”

Something moved deep inside him.

A seismic shift that cracked open a vulnerable fissure he had no idea how to repair.

And no time to consider the long-term consequences.

Instead, he swept her off her feet, cradling her against his chest as he flowed silently through the night.

“Hold on,” he warned, leaping over a wide culvert.

She threw her arms around his neck, anxiously trying to glance over his shoulder.

“Do you sense we’re being followed?”

His arms tightened protectively around her slender body, his fangs fully exposed as he made a direct path toward the trees that filled the small valley below them.

Anything that tried to stop them, he’d rip out their throat.

“No, but there was something off about that demon,” he said. He wasn’t intimately familiar with Miera demons, but he knew damned well the one that attacked them wasn’t natural. “For all we know the creature might be capable of disguising his presence.”

She shivered, but her courage never faltered.

“We can’t keep running. It’ll be dawn soon.”

He brushed a kiss over the top of her head, so light she couldn’t sense the fleeting caress.

“Don’t tell me you’re concerned I might be sizzled into a pile of ash?”

“Of course I am,” she muttered. “I’m the only one allowed to make me a widow.”

His lips twitched. “I’m touched. Unfortunately, there aren’t many hotels in this area. Unless you know something I don’t?”

He leaped over a large boulder, briefly debating the possibility of taking the direct path over the edge of the cliff, only to instantly dismiss it. There might be caves they could use to wait out the daylight hours and the surging tide would hopefully wash away their trail, but Sally was only half demon and he wasn’t about to risk injuring her.

“Maybe.”

Not expecting a response to his teasing, Roke came to an abrupt halt to study her guarded expression.

“Are you going to share?”

She refused to meet his searching gaze. “My mother was paranoid to the point of obsession. Probably because she was hated by most people who met her.” She grimaced. “She has at least half a dozen safe houses in the area.”

Safe houses? Anger surged through him. “Why didn’t you mention them earlier?”

“I forgot about them.”

“No,” he snapped. Dammit. He’d known that she was hiding something from him earlier. Now it was obvious what she was plotting. “You intended to run from me as soon as the sun rose.”

She knew better than to try to lie, but a stubborn expression settled on her delicate face.

“I won’t be forced to go to your clan.”

“I told you . . .” He bit off his furious words. It was less than an hour before sunrise and they were on the run from a demon who could make the very air a weapon. Now wasn’t the time for this particular argument. “Which way?” he demanded through clenched fangs.

She kept her gaze averted. “Just keep heading south.”

In silence, he carried her down the steep bluff, entering the thick grove of trees. Sally shivered and he wrinkled his nose at the frost coating the underbrush and the sharp stones that cut into his moccasins.

He might be annoyed as hell with the female in his arms, but he couldn’t halt his instinctive concern. A vampire was impervious to the elements, but Sally was clearly uncomfortable in the chilled air.

“I don’t suppose your mother’s safe house is a penthouse suite at The Ritz-Carlton?”

She lifted her brows. “This from the vampire who lives in the middle of the desert?”

He shrugged, in no mood to admit his concern was for her welfare.

Sometimes she annoyed the shit out of him.

“I wouldn’t say no to a hot shower and a bottle of Remy Martin Louis XIII Black Pearl cognac.”

She grimaced. “Let’s just say that it has more of a Bear Grylls vibe to it.”

He swallowed a curse, silently reassuring himself that it would only be for a few hours. As soon as night arrived he intended to take her far away from this frigid, desolate spot.

“At least tell me that it’s sunproof.”

“You won’t roast. I promise.” She pointed toward an overgrown trail between the trees. “Follow that path.” They traveled over a mile before she pointed again. “There.”

Roke lowered Sally to her feet, frowning as he searched the small clearing.

“Is it an invisible safe house?”

“Something better,” she assured him, lifting a warning hand. “Stay back.”

“Why?”

“There are spells we have to avoid.”

He watched as she cautiously inched her way forward, her eyes closed as she concentrated on the invisible magic surrounding the small clearing.

“What kind of spells?”

“Most of them are simply to repel stray trespassers. But there are a couple that are dangerous.” She held up a hand, speaking soft words that carried a power even he could feel. After several tense minutes she finally opened her eyes. “I’ve created a small pathway. Follow my footsteps.”

She was forging forward before he could halt her, leaving behind Roke to mutter his opinion of impulsive witches who charged into dangerous situations without concern for the sanity of the poor vampire who was stuck trying to keep her alive.

Carefully following in her path, he battled his way past the relentless weaves of revulsion that managed to leak through Sally’s barriers. The spell was strong enough that he had to physically fight the urge to turn and flee, reminding him just how much power Sally had to expend to keep them from being harmed.

She needed rest and food.

Two things he intended to ensure she had plenty of once they were safe.

Concentrating on the slender form in front of him, Roke pressed forward until they were at last through the magical barriers.

He shook off the lingering strands of magic, moving to stand at Sally’s side as she knelt in the middle of the clearing. She muttered another spell and the ground parted to reveal a large hole.

“This is it?” he muttered.

“Yep.” She swung her legs over the edge of the hole. “Let me go first.”

“Why?”

“I haven’t been here since I was sixteen and I can’t be sure whether or not my mother left behind any painful surprises.”

“Sally,” he growled.

“I’ll be careful.” The promise had barely left her lips before she was dropping into the hole.

“Dammit,” Roke hissed in horror, swiftly leaping behind her.

He landed in a surprisingly large room that was lined with thick walls of cement.

“Ta-da.” Sally sent him a mocking smile. “You see, sunproof enough for the fussiest vampire.”

Stepping forward, Roke lifted his brows as he took in the towering shelves that held cans of food as well as bottled water. There was a narrow bed shoved against a far wall and an open cabinet that held row after row of ceramic pots filled with potions, dried herbs, and copper pans for mixing spells. On the top of the cabinet were kerosene lanterns, basic tools, and a first aid kit.

“Your mother built this?”

She shrugged. “Actually, I think it was a bomb shelter before she decided it suited her purposes and claimed it for herself.”

“It will do. At least for today,” he murmured, moving forward to touch the pallor of her cheek. “First dinner. And then bed.”