Beauty and the Beast (Demon Tales 1) (14 page)

Cally forced her feet to stay still. Her
mind screamed for her to flee, the little terrified girl inside
her, begger her to apologize and to back away. But she steeled
herself against her mother’s cruel smile and fought the almost
uncontrollable urge to cower. This was what she had wanted—a moment
alone with her mother—a moment to mete out all of the violence that
clogged up her heart. But as she stared at the advancing woman all
of her violent plans fell from her mind, leaving her blank and
fearful.

“Please don’t make me marry him!” The words
tumbled from her mouth. Her heart thudded heavily when she heard
herself begging. She took a step back and hated her weakness, so
much for forcing herself to stay still.

Her mother smiled, and this time Cally saw
genuine enjoyment in her mother’s expression. Cold, hard dread sat
suddenly in Cally’s stomach.

“You will do what is good for you,
Callindra,” her mother replied. She stopped advancing and flicked
her gaze to Cally’s head. The pain from the newly removed horns
suddenly returned, making Cally gasp. She raised her hands to her
raw scalp and winced as the nerves began to jangle anew. “You will
do as I say.” Her mother laughed a cackling sound and Cally knew
her mother was using magic to cause her pain. A wind began to swirl
within the sealed room, papers flew around, and the curtains
framing the window flapped frantically. Cally staggered backwards,
still gripped by pain. The hot stabs of agony ripped into her mind,
causing Cally’s legs to buckle.

Her mother laughed, throwing her head back,
clearly amused by Cally’s distress. “You are an abomination!” she
roared over the swirling wind. “You are a worthless runt—a mistake.
You have earned me nothing but headache. But now, for once, you
will be useful. You will be the perfect tool to get me a larger
castle—more lands—more wealth.” The wind suddenly stopped, and
silence fell. Cally leant against the oak desk, still clenching her
teeth against the agony ripping through her skull. Her breaths
sawed from her lungs as the pain stole her control. She gripped the
edge of the desk and suppressed the need to cry. This time there
was no stopping her mother.

The queen’s words fell heavily on Cally’s
ears, and a surge of anger tore through her mind. How dare her own
mother treat Cally this way? How dare she rob Cally of the life she
deserved? Cally had had enough. The pain dulled somewhat by the
adrenaline that came with the cold, but forceful emotions. Cally
steeled her spine and glared at the queen.

“I will tell him what I am,” she muttered,
standing away from the desk. Her legs trembled and her head
throbbed, but Cally was beyond feeling now. “I will tell him the
truth before you even get me to the point of saying ‘I do’. I hate
you, and I’ll make sure everyone knows that you gave birth to a
half-demon!” The words ripped from Cally’s soul, they burned like
hellfire, but gave Cally the strength to stand tall again. “I will
never marry a human! I will never allow you to force me to be
anything but what I am! I would rather die than accept that fate!”
Cally roared the words now. Speaking the truth felt like release—a
kind of freedom she had never felt before. Her throat ripped with
every screamed utterance—but it felt good.

The queen only watched Cally with growing
amusement. Cally didn’t like the superior air that her mother
wrapped around herself like a blanket. The queen now openly grinned
at Cally and a cold slide of fear stroked down her spine. Cally
forced steel back into her spine and allowed all of her hate to
spill onto her face.

“Really? There’s nothing I can do to make
you agree?” Her mother tapped her chin with a red tipped nail and
raised an eyebrow. “What if I bribed you, Cally
dearest
?”
Her mother folded her arms and stepped a little closer to where
Cally was pressed against the desk. Cally watched her mother with a
growing unease. Her mother was normally fiery and loud—quick to
scream her displeasure. Cally didn’t like her mother’s calculating
smile. It made her stomach churn and her confidence falter. “What
if I said that I would kill a certain hairy demon if you didn’t
marry the prince tomorrow? Would that make you agree to the
marriage?”

Hot, stabbing fear shot through Cally’s
chest. She held her breath and tried to hide her reaction from her
mother, but her mother grinned wide, clearly witnessing Cally’s
reaction to her threat. But the threat must be empty. Brigg was
nowhere near the castle—was he?

“What…what do you mean?” Cally asked, the
words too much to hold back. She knew she was playing right into
her mother’s hands, but she had to know if she was bluffing. She
had to be. Maybe her mother was speaking of Torc? Had she taken him
after he’d had her delivered?

Oh please, let it be Torc…
Cally
swallowed past the guilt for wishing it was Torc. She wouldn’t know
what to do if her mother had Brigg.

Fierce shouts of rage suddenly filtered
through Cally’s bedroom door, Thuds of sound followed by guttural
grunts made Cally’s blood flow cold. She flicked her gaze back to
her mother who was still grinning and Cally shook her head.

“No.”

The heavy wooden door flew back and opened
wide. Brigg—her Brigg—was between two heavily armed knights. Their
gleaming silver armour rattled and clanged as they dragged a
half-conscious Brigg into her room.

“Brigg!” Without thought Cally dashed to her
demon. She dropped to her knees and held his face in her palms.
“Brigg.” Tears fell unchecked as she held onto him. He was cold,
and unresponsive. Cally could see blood on his shirt, but through
all the fur, she couldn’t see where his injuries were. Panic
clutched tightly around her throat until her head spun and her
hands shook. Anger fizzed in her veins. She turned her hate-filled
eyes on her mother and spoke through gritted teeth. “Release
him!”

“Cally?” Brigg tried to look through swollen
eyes. He could swear that he had heard Cally. The pain coming from
his chest made breathing near impossible, but when he managed to
snatch in a breath he smelled the sweet fragrance of his
princess—Cally.

Is she here?

“Cally?” he breathed, flinching as the word
ripped at his throat. Blood filled his mouth but he ignored it. He
battled to force his eyes open, prying them past his eyeballs which
seemed coated in sandpaper, but when he did, he was rewarded with
the most beautiful sight in the world—Cally—his Cally. “Oh Jesus,
Cally.” He breathed, all but forgetting the men that held his arms
behind him in a fierce twist. The relief of seeing her was
palpable. The force of his emotions flooded his chest and brought
breath to his lungs once again.

From the moment he had been dragged from the
castle walls he had been desperate to see her—just once. He had
been a fool to rush in and think that he could just take her back
to his castle—a castle he hadn’t even seen for fifteen years. He
was an idiot, and he was paying for his stupidity, probably with
his life—but this one sight of her was enough to make all that
worth it.

“Brigg, what are you doing here?” Her breath
fanned over his face, the sweet smell of Cally drifted up his
nostrils and he felt a small amount of peace fill his heart. She
stroked her dainty hands over his face as her beautiful eyes
brimmed with pain. For him? “Oh, Brigg. What have you done?” she
whispered, the sound agonizingly perfect against his ears.

“Let him go!” Cally roared, the shrill,
sharp sound making him flinch against his human bindings. He lifted
his heavy head and watched her. She was full of the fire he so
loved in her, so fierce and unconsciously sexy as she screamed at
the top of her lungs—for him. No one had ever defended him. No one
had ever spoken out for Brigg—the cursed demon. It humbled him and
pained him all at once. He had come here to be her rescuer, he had
come here to take her away from pain and suffering, but he could
see tears wetting her face and torment flashing in her eyes, and he
knew he had just made her life worse.

“I came for you,” he said, understanding
that he had never sounded so weak—so pathetic. Here he was on his
knees, beaten to a pulp, yet telling her that he had come for her.
He would have laughed, if it didn’t hurt so much.

She looked back down to him and Brigg winced
at the look of sympathy in her eyes. She turned and faced away,
robbing him of the sight of her beautiful eyes.

“Let him go!” she all but growled. She was
furious, and Brigg felt a surge of pride.

“I don’t think so,” a snide voice replied
from further into the bedroom. Brigg stiffened when he recognized
the cold voice.
Oh fuck, no!
The queen was in the room. His
heart thudded painfully in his chest. All pride for Cally’s bravado
slid away. Fear pounded through his sluggish mind and he tugged
once again at the humans holding his arms.

Cally stood up and moved out of his line of
sight. Brigg continued to yank at his arms, desperate to get to
Cally, but the human restraints held firm.
The fucking
bastards—takes two to hold me, and a knife in the ribs to control
me.
The memory of the blade slipping between his ribs created a
pulse of pain to wash through his body. His vision wavered, but he
gritted his teeth and focused harder on Cally and her mother. There
was one chance…

“Cally, move!” Brigg roared.

Cally swung around just as Brigg found the
strength to shake his captives. He bellowed and twisted in his
bindings. The humans shouted and grasped frantically at him, but
neither were enough to hold him down. Brigg turned and threw his
fist into the face of one of the guards, a blast of pain shooting
through his hand as he connected with the metal armour. The human
dropped like a sack of turnips.

Pain washed over Briggs side from the
knife-wound, his vision wavered, but desperation to get Cally away
from here forced adrenaline into his body. He reached, grabbed for
the other guard and slammed him into the wall. The guard slid down
the stones and landed in a heavy thud on the ground. Brigg turned
and faced the woman who had cursed him all those years ago. Her
thin, pointy features had hardly changed from all those years
ago.

“Time to die, witch!” he growled, fairly
shaking with the need to end her evil life. Cally stood to his side
with wide eyes. Brigg held his hand out to her, asking her to come
closer. When her slight hand slid into his palm, he almost sagged
with relief.

The queen watched with open interest, her
calculating gaze heavily on Brigg’s skin. “And how exactly am I to
die, Brigg?” she asked, clearly amused.

“By my hand, Witch.”

Cally’s hand tightened within his palm. He
could feel her trembling at his side, and he tugged her under his
arm. She fell against him, and Brigg squeezed her close.

“Your hand, demon?” The queen laughed again,
the sound was loud against his ears. Brigg swayed ominously as
another wave of agony swelled over his body. Warm blood coated his
side and he wondered how much longer he had before passing out
cold. “Come on then, I don’t have all day.”

A wind whipped up in the room, and Brigg
felt his whole body weaken. He staggered forward one step and felt
Cally’s tight grip on his arm. The room spun, and when Brigg looked
up he realized he had fallen to his knees.

“Brigg?” Cally’s desperate shout filtered
into his ears, the sound muted by the throbbing in his ears. He
turned his head and found Cally on her knees next to him, concern
and fear clouding her expression.

“I’m sorry Cally,” he whispered. “I
tried.”

Brigg watched a tear slide down Cally’s
cheek. Distantly he thought he would like to kiss it away, but the
strength for that didn’t exist in his weak and failing body.

“No!” Cally whispered—or did she shout?
Brigg didn’t know. Black slid over his vision, and he felt himself
falling.

* * * *

Brigg slipped from Cally’s grip, his large
body falling heavily to the floor. Cally sank to her knees and
watched, bewildered, as her fearless giant demon collapsed in front
of her.

“Brigg?”

“I can save him.”

Cally whipped her head up and eyed her
mother, who was watching the scene with obvious enjoyment. “I can
fix that wound on his side, and have him good as new.”

Cally gaped but shook her head fiercely.
“No! You stay away!” Tears fell freely from her eyes as she ran her
hands over Brigg. Her fingers came away covered in blood and Cally
held them up to stare at the red, sticky liquid. “What have you
done?” Cally screamed. “What have you done?” Misery felt like a
heavy stone in her chest—a knife to her heart. Brigg, her beautiful
demon, was dying because of her. He had come to save her, to take
her away. And now he lay dying on her bedroom floor.

It was surreal. Cally couldn’t breathe as
she clutched her demon closer. She pulled him so that he lay across
her lap, so his face no longer pressed into the stone floor. His
lids were closed, blocking the sight of his beautiful eyes. Cally’s
heart pounded painfully.

Please don’t die, Brigg…please.

Cally stroked at his face, rocking as tears
fell from her eyes. Her demon, her love was dying and she didn’t
know what to do.

“Help him.” Cally whispered into the room.
She didn’t want to take her eyes from the demon for fear of him
disappearing. He seemed so solid—yet not there at the same time.
Cally sobbed uncontrollably. She leaned down and pressed a kiss to
his face. Warm. She whipped her head up and pinned her mother with
determined eyes. “Save him. I know you can! Save him!”

The queen watched Cally for a long moment,
her shrewd gaze taking in all the details. Cally stroked Brigg,
trying to comfort him, when her insides bubbled with fury.