Crystalfire (8 page)

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Authors: Kate Douglas

BOOK: Crystalfire
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And Taron had never wanted anything as much in his entire life as he wanted Willow. That kiss this morning had been the equivalent of setting a match to tinder. His body thrummed with needs he’d never had before and certainly hadn’t expected. And while he knew the mechanics of sex, had experienced the unimaginable arousal of that amazing kiss, he’d never dreamed how intense the feelings could be, how much they could rule a man’s mind.
It was almost as if there was another side to him, a wild beast that had spent a lifetime slumbering. Willow had awakened that creature, an animal side of Taron that was all about sensation and pleasure, arousal and the baser needs of man.
That other creature was proving to be a difficult soul to rein in. It would be one thing if Willow was the least bit hesitant about making love, but she seemed perfectly willing.
Nine hells, did she seem willing! All during their meal she’d watched him, sneaking glances when she’d obviously not expected him to be looking, except he’d not been able to take his eyes off of her, so he’d caught her, every time.
And now, cleaning up the kitchen after breaking fast, they were both finding every excuse in the world to touch, to brush against an arm, a shoulder ... a breast.
Dear gods, but her breasts were such amazing things. The women of Lemuria hid theirs beneath their heavy, flowing robes but that brilliant blue shirt Willow had chosen molded itself so closely to those beautiful globes that even the taut points of her nipples were distinctly visible through the fabric.
He must remember to have her wear something more seemly when they left the house tonight. Something that covered her more decently than the garment she’d selected for now.
Like Willow would let him decide how she dressed? That wasn’t going to happen, yet he hated the thought of other men seeing what she so freely chose to show him. Hated to think how he would feel, walking beside her, aware of her beauty visible to the world.
Had she selected that tight blue shirt for that effect? Did she wear it now, knowing what it would do to him? Had that been her intent, to keep his body hard and aroused, his mind so scattered he could barely think straight? If so, she’d succeeded much better than she’d probably imagined, because his brain was empty of everything but Willow.
He knew Ed was out there, his body ruled by the demon king. Knew there were lesser demons nearby—demons he and Willow must destroy before the night was over, but now?
Now there was nothing to do at all but wait. Wait and kill time. So, how would they spend the coming hours?
They couldn’t tell Eddy about her father. She and Dax would be here in a heartbeat, and the risk was much too great. If the demon king were to finally succeed in claiming Dax’s life force, his power would be insurmountable, if Taron’s sword were to be believed.
Crystal swords did not lie. No one knew how they gained the information they chose to share, but there was no instance of a sentient sword ever misleading the one they served. Taron had to believe his blade was telling him the truth. After all these years, he had to trust the mind behind the voice.
Stupid sword. Giving him bits and pieces of information and yet still not divulging its name. Of course, he could have gotten sentience well-versed in snark, like Alton’s sword. At least HellFire seemed to have started behaving as a good crystal sword should, but why couldn’t things be a little less complicated?
He turned his mind from things he could not change and watched something every bit as confusing. Willow. Would he ever know what made a woman tick? She excited him doing something as simple as wiping down the counter and hanging the damp towel on a rack. Then she turned and leaned against the stove, cocked one hip in a very suggestive manner, and smiled at him. She didn’t say a word. Didn’t wink, didn’t gesture with her hands. She merely smiled and waited, leaving whatever decision was to be made up to him.
His brain turned to mush. The only thing he understood was that gods-be-damned old woman and her prophecy. The words rolled through his mind, and her voice was as scary in memory as it had been in real life. He thought of how the words she’d spoken about Alton had come true, how she’d turned away from his closest friend and settled that unnerving gaze on him. He could still see her—one blue eye, one brown—as she spoke the words that had forever changed his life.
Unimaginable joy. Unendurable pain.
He’d love to experience the joy, but he wasn’t about to set himself up for the pain. He truly was a coward—one able to admit that even Willow, as beautiful as she was, as smart and sweet and brave, wasn’t worth unendurable pain.
He’d seen pain firsthand, watched his mother waste away and die after his father was killed fighting in the demon wars. She’d given up on life, which had been bad enough, but the one thing he’d never forgiven her for was that she’d given up on her only child.
If not for Alton’s friendship and the occasional hug from Alton’s mother, Taron would have been entirely alone. He knew what unendurable pain did to people. Knew what it had done to his mother. He might be a coward, but there was no way in the nine hells he’d go seeking something so awful.
All he had to do was lock his heart away. Remember that love was not for him, and everything would be fine. Besides, he doubted Willow wanted love any more than he did. This chance at life was so new for her, the opportunity to experience the world as a real woman, that the last thing she’d want would be a man trying to control her and hold her close.
Of course, he reasoned that didn’t mean she wasn’t interested in experiencing as much as she could, that she didn’t want to know what sex was like. It was something they could learn about together.
As long as he didn’t fall in love, he’d be okay. What was the risk of that? They’d only known each other a short time. Love took much longer to grow, and it suddenly came to him—since he’d never been in love, it shouldn’t be a problem.
Obviously, he was one of those men incapable of such deep feelings.
They had hours to go before nightfall. Hours when they should prepare for the hunt tonight, which meant looking over maps of the city, and figuring out where to hunt for demonkind.
Getting some rest ...
His thoughts drifted once again toward the big bed in that empty bedroom. They’d definitely need to get some sleep before going out tonight. He didn’t think Eddy would mind if they used her bed. Again.
His body tightened and his breath caught in his throat.
To rest. Merely to rest.
Willow shoved away from the stove and took a step toward him. “I can practically see the little wheels in your brain spinning, Taron. You know and I know that if we don’t do something about this ...” She waved her hands as if she were searching for words.
He didn’t have to ask her what words she needed. They were right there, big as life in front of them. He stared at the floor. He truly was a coward.
She sighed. “If we don’t do something about the curiosity that’s making both of us just a little bit crazy, it’s going to be what Eddy calls the elephant in the parlor when we should really be concentrating on fighting demons and rescuing Ed.”
He raised his head, looked up and realized he was staring directly into Willow’s beautiful blue eyes. She was right. She was also a much braver person than he could ever hope to be.
He wondered where she’d found the backbone to speak her mind, the strength to say what she thought without worrying how it would sound, who it might offend. Then he thought of her newness, the fact that she was a fresh creature without the lifelong inhibitions and baggage that battered so many lives.
Was it bravery or innocence that gave Willow courage? Whatever—he would wish for either, knowing full well he’d never truly be free of all the things that had made him the man he was. That kept him from being the man he should be.
His sword flashed. He waited, but the blade didn’t speak. Was that flash of light disapproval he sensed? Most likely. What had he ever done to earn anyone’s approval? Did it really matter? Now that was a thought. Maybe it was time to stop worrying about approval or what he was afraid of. Maybe it was time to take the lead, for once in his life.
A tiny yet familiar voice in the back of his mind suggested this might be the wrong time to be making such a huge decision.
For now, for this time, Taron chose to ignore the voice of reason. He’d been reasonable his entire life, and what had it gotten him?
Nothing.
Slowly, he removed the scabbard and set it on the kitchen counter. The blade remained dull and lifeless, as if rebuking him with its silence. He stared at it a moment. Nothing changed. He turned and once again caught Willow’s steady, blue-eyed gaze focused on his face. He gazed back and weighed his crystal sword’s disapproval over Willow’s invitation.
He almost laughed at the foolish comparison. Turning away from the silent sword, he took Willow’s hand and led her, unresisting, into the bedroom.
Chapter 6
Blinking slowly, the demon king stared into the shadows through inferior human eyes. He’d taken refuge in this abandoned building once before, the first time he came to Earth’s dimension with a mind so scrambled he’d been unable to plan, to think beyond anything other than taking on an avatar.
He’d been capable of little more than causing chaos, but he’d begun to evolve, to grow and regain the brilliant mind he feared he’d lost forever. This time he had no need of stone statues or inanimate objects, though he’d grown quite attached to the huge gargoyle that had been his first form in this dimension.
He’d almost brought the beast to life, but the gargoyle now lay shattered on the mountainside, nothing more than a pile of crumbled stone, destroyed by that bitch who dared challenge him.
Things definitely had changed. His mind, for one thing. Finally he’d made the journey from Abyss to Earth without losing the intelligence that made him superior to others. His mind was every bit as clear as it had been when he was still in Eden, as powerful as when he’d first entered Abyss. There were no limits.
Not anymore. He no longer needed to confine his search for an avatar to something of the earth. Nor was he limited to dumb creatures. He stretched out his human arms, gazed at his long human legs. He had full control, though he hadn’t believed such a thing possible. It must be proof his power was growing, not waning. This body should do him well, though it was not as strong as he’d hoped.
Not as mobile as that four-legged beast would have been.
Damn the Lemurian and his crystal sword!
However, he sensed that this one was even more beloved by those fools who called themselves demonslayers. Soon they would come in search of this man, prepared to risk all to save his worthless life. And he would kill them all. Every single one.
Except for the one he had to have.
Dax.
Dax who still held title to that demonform he wanted.
He turned his gaze toward a broken window and stared at the brilliant sunlight streaming in through the gap in the filthy glass. Just a few more hours and he would go in search of demonkind and gorge himself on their life force. A few more hours until night fell and those lesser demons came awake.
Once he’d fed, he would be ready. When Dax appeared to fight for this human’s mortal soul, the demon king would prevail. How he loved the sound of that!
There was something he didn’t understand, though, and that was why? Dax had obviously been a demon, more powerful than most if his demonform was any indication, and yet he’d given it up. It made no sense. Why would any creature with that much strength and intelligence forsake the chance for even more power? Dax had traded it all for a puny human body and a miserable life.
And to think that fool was the only one standing between he who would be the demon king and his chance for eternal rule.
His fingers clenched, his body hardened with a dark rush of unexpected arousal. Absolute power. There was no other joy as intense, as defining. He could barely contain himself. Could not wait for the amazing rush of satisfaction he would feel when he not only took Dax’s life force for his own, but also the lives of all the others who called themselves demonslayers.
Just a few more hours, a few demonic souls, and he would be ready. He would be strong—truly invincible.
Then nothing could stop him. Nothing at all.
 
 
Something was terribly wrong. Ed tried to wake up, but he felt as if he were crawling to the surface of something absolutely evil, and there was nothing but darkness. He tried to open his eyes, but he had no control. Somehow, he knew he wasn’t alone, just as he knew he wasn’t dead. At least, not entirely.
He was alive but not. Something horrible had happened, but he had no idea what it was.
Was Eddy okay? What about Bumper? And that young man who’d come ... Taron? Where was Taron? Ed pushed, fighting against the weight of another’s consciousness, but it was like swimming upstream in a river of thick, sulfuric muck. Disgusting. Wrong.
No matter. As long as Eddy and Dax were okay. That mattered. That and nothing else. He could think of nothing else, not with this pressure holding him captive. He fought against the other, the sense of something pressing him back into the corners of his mind, but he had nothing to fight with. No power, no strength. Only the knowledge that some
thing
was inside him, controlling him.
It had no name, no substance, but it existed. Existed inside Ed Marks. It was evil, and it was wrong, but he had no power to make it go away.
He turned his thoughts to Eddy. His daughter was strong and she fought evil. Eddy could help him. She was the only one. He reached out, searching for her mind, for her crystal clear thoughts. She was out there, somewhere, and he would find her.

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