Demon Retribution (26 page)

Sonya had nodded in agreement, as if that
were a normal reaction for someone to have at a simple
question.

Aside from noting how vastly Nadua had
changed, Kyra wondered, then, why had Cale made love to her if he
was mated to someone else?

The answer became clear, however, as Sonya
described the depth of Velicia’s betrayal, and again later, when
gossip about Cale’s exploits started flooding in. He was a favorite
topic amongst the female crew. From the stories, Kyra gathered he
was a damn man-whore!

Not that she hadn’t known that on some
level, but to be surrounded by—

Hell, she could hardly walk around without
imagining him with every woman she passed in a hall, or if he was
currently holed up in some floozy’s room—kissing someone else with
the same passion he’d shown her. It pained her to think of it.

Since their first night, she’d run into him
only a handful of instances, each time engaging in awkward small
talk. The conversations went something like:

“How are you getting along?”

“Very well, thanks.”

Afterward, he’d nod and walk on, and she
would do the same with her throat a bit tighter than before.

In her little sister, Anya, she was finding
a vast amount of inspiration. Their individual gifts were not
exactly the same, but a theory had formed that their magic may work
on the same principle: energy. But where Anya could read people’s
energy, control it, and even supply it through blood magic, Kyra
used energy to affect—or possibly just destroy—her immediate
surroundings.

They’d also determined that it wouldn’t be
wise for Kyra to attempt to harness her gift while on the ship.
Though, with each of Anya’s demonstrations, she wanted more and
more to try. She felt she’d been making progress back home on
Earth.

However, Anya was nothing less than amazing
when it came to her powers. With enough concentration, she could
gather energy to her and force it out of her like a blast. Almost
exactly what Kyra experienced, only on a smaller, and more
controlled, level.

Much more controlled.

Nadua’s gift was somewhat like their
father’s, only her visions weren’t limited to the future. At times
she could see the past as well. The drawback was that she had to
come into contact with someone in order for a vision to manifest.
With Anya’s help, they’d been working on breaking those
boundaries.

“Have you had a vision of me yet?” Kyra had
asked Nadua, remembering their tight-hug reunion. Nadua’s face had
become strange as she nodded, and Kyra frowned when Nadua revealed
it had been one of the first times she’d been forced to use her
gift.

It was obvious Nadua didn’t like getting
visions of everyone’s past, saying that they were of no use to her
and she didn’t need to see all the horrors of someone’s life. Then
in a low voice she’d added cryptically that she never touched Anya
if she didn’t have to.

Oh, Kyra didn’t even want to know what that
meant.

Zoey was getting along nicely. Probably
better than Kyra. She’d quickly become comfortable walking the ship
alone, usually to the salon or to one of the recreation rooms.

Kyra suspected that Zo hoped to run into
Rex. Kyra had yet to catch the two of them together, but one
evening Zo had entered their room with a smile that could rival the
brightness of the sun, yet refused to comment on her happy mood.
She’d only plopped onto a cushy chair situated by the window and
gazed out at the stars, looking pleased.

Today, she and Zoey introduced themselves to
the Serakian witchling named Portia, who bunked but a few doors
from them. She was petite as could be, small and thin like a pixie
with spiky black hair and deceptively sweet features. But boy,
there was power in that little package. Kyra could feel it. Even
Zoey had sensed something.

They learned that Portia had been dispatched
to perform a pretty serious spell to eradicate Nadua and Marik’s
mate bond.

Kyra wondered aloud, “Why would they send a
witch in training for such an important spell?”

The witch shrugged and replied, “Perhaps
they knew it was impossible to achieve. Those smug cocksuckers love
to see me fail.”

“Witch in training?” Zoey asked after Kyra
had translated a bit of their conversation.

Kyra elaborated, saying, “That’s what
witchling means.”

Then, out of the blue,
Portia leaned forward and openly sniffed Zoey. “That’s strange,”
she said. “You don’t
smell
like a vampire.”

Zoey leaned back, not understanding. “Did
she just sniff me?” Then Zo stuck her nose in her armpit before
asking, “What did she say?”

Portia huffed with irritation. “Oh, this
translating crap is going to get old.” She uttered a few dark
words, her eyes flashing white.

Kyra stepped back, feeling power grow.
Before she could react, the witch reached out and placed the bud of
her index finger on Zoey’s third eye, finishing the spell with a
jolt.

Zoey stumbled backward and slapped her hand
over her forehead, breathing heavily. “Holy mother of hell! What
did you do?”

“Now you can understand me,” Portia said
sweetly.

Zoey’s mouth dropped open, as did Kyra’s,
and then Portia bid them good evening without much more explanation
and disappeared into her room.

“You okay?” Kyra asked, helping Zoey keep
steady on her feet.

“Yeah, just a little dizzy. That was
weird.”

Kyra agreed, but didn’t say anything. In the
morning, she’d inform Portia to ask before throwing spells
around.

Returning to their compartment, Kyra watched
Zoey closely for indications of side effects. Luckily, there didn’t
seem to be any. Zoey sat on the couch, working a puzzle that
someone had lent her, and after a while Kyra relaxed, flipping
through the massive book that Ethan had delivered to her room.

It was heavy as a brick and twice as thick.
Intricate gold patterns laced around the dark, leather-like
binding, and a thin flap wrapped to the front, acting as the lock.
When she’d peeled it open, it felt no more difficult as separating
two magnets, but for others it would seem as though nothing would
pry it free.

Blessed Serakian magic.

Most of the writing resembled nothing more
than gibberish. Ethanule had been able to translate much of it, but
for some reason, not all—a fact that clearly frustrated him,
evident by the tone in which he confessed.

Kyra recognized some drawings of
Kayadon—tight bony skin, eyes like splintered eggshells—as well as
a few sketches of what was now referred to as hellhounds, at least
by Zoey and herself. The creatures looked terrifying, even on
paper.

She fumbled back and forth through the
pages, hoping to find something useful, but what? She didn’t
know.

Zoey studied a puzzle piece at eye level,
trapped between her thumb and forefinger. She set it down on the
table and fell back on the chair with palpable boredom.

“You wanna go to the pub or something?” Kyra
offered.

Zoey perked up. “Sure.”

Kyra chuckled. “No need to twist your arm, I
guess.”

The music droned a soft beat tonight in the
pub. A few tables were free, but she and Zoey chose to sit at the
bar where they greeted Sonya, who had been taking on shifts due to
complaints about Jade’s service.

“The usual?” the demon asked, having
memorized their favorite drinks.

Kyra nodded, but Zoey asked, “You got
anything with bite?”

Kyra had to laugh, thinking that wasn’t the
best thing to ask when in the company of demons. She was about to
voice her musings when she realized Zoey had answered Sonya without
the need for translation. Sonya too scrutinized Zoey, as if seeing
her for the first time. Then her incredulous violet eyes shot to
Kyra, growing thin with suspicion.

Kyra’s features contorted quizzically.
“What’s the matter?”

“Has someone been teaching you guys
Demonish?”

“No. Why?”

She glanced back at Zoey. “Ask her who
taught her to say that.”

“No need,” Zoey replied. “I understood you
perfectly, and no one taught me to say anything in…whatever it is
you called it.”

“Stop fucking with me. You’re speaking it
right now.”

Kyra shook her head. “No, she’s speaking
English.”

The demons eyes narrowed dangerously. “No,
she’s not.”

Kyra and Zoey exchanged confused looks.

“Ethan!” Sonya called to the back room.

He emerged a few moments later and smiled
when he caught sight of them. “Ladies.”

Sonya gave them no time to reply. “Ethan, do
you speak any Demonish?”

“A little bit. Why?”

Pinning Zoey with a look, she ordered,
“Speak, girl.”

“What am I, a dog?”

Instead of responding, Sonya faced Ethan
expectantly. “Well? Did you understand what she said?”

Now it was Ethan’s turn to look suspicious.
“Well, yeah, but that’s because she’s speaking Denaloid. For what
possible reason would you have to learn that language?”

Zoey looked lost. “It’s English. You’re all
speaking it.”

Realization hit Kyra, and she muttered, “I
think we should ask Portia about that spell she put on you. I
suspect when you speak, people will hear it in their most common
language. In turn, you’ll hear them in yours.”

“The Serakian, huh?” Ethan smiled. “Well,
that’s convenient.”

Kyra thought so as well. That is, until Rex
appeared sometime later, long after everyone’s astonishment wore
off.

This time when Zoey said hi to him, he did a
double take. Not too long afterward, Kyra was all but forgotten as
the two fell into conversation. She tried to listen in at first,
but soon grew bored with the blatant flirting.

It was kind of an unspoken rule that Kyra
was now responsible for Zoey, but Zo was an adult, and if she
wanted the demon, then so be it. Nadua might vouch for Rex, but if
he did anything to harm Zoey, Kyra would go Bronx on his ass.

Turning on the stool, she
leaned back against the bar, taking in the crowd. Many different
races made up the crew. Some she recognized. Others not so much.
She mused that
Marada
had at least one thing in common with New York. It was like a
melting pot of cultures. She wondered if that was why she felt so
comfortable here. Or maybe it was that she no longer had to hide
what she was.

She tucked her hair behind her ears and
reveled in the crowd’s lack of interest. Her exuberance faded when
a familiar face caught the corner of her eye. She swiveled her
body, facing the bar so fast that her head spun.

Zoey noticed him too, and called out, “Cale!
Guess what?”

Sneaking a sidewise glance, she nearly
laughed at Cale’s confusion at hearing Zo. A man she hadn’t met
before was with him. He looked a little gruff with his tan skin,
dark eyes, and short brown hair. In the time it took them to
approach, Kyra lifted her chin and took a few calming breaths. Why
did the thought of seeing Cale now give her such anxiety? Sonya
offered her a look filled with a hint of pity.

That’s right. I’m just one
of many
.

Zoey had the pleasure of teasing Cale a bit,
not giving in when he demanded to know how it was she could
suddenly speak his native language.

“It wasn’t me,” Sonya said when he gave her
an accusatory look. “I thought you were the one who taught
her.”

Cale took on the cutest perturbed
expression, and Zo folded like a cheap suit. Kyra shook her head,
not wanting to admit that look would have worked just as easily on
her. Damn him.

“Cale,” Kyra said, trying to prove she could
be just as indifferent. “Any news from the dragons?”

“Actually, that’s why we’re here,” he
replied. “Aidan wanted to meet you.”

She turned to the dark haired male. “Oh,
you’re the dragonshifter from Kanisae.”

“Yes. It’s an honor make your
acquaintance.”

“Your accent is nothing like the dragons of
Legura,” she observed.

“You’d be surprised at how dissimilar our
people are.”

“It’s not that surprising, considering
Legura and Kanisae are completely different planets. On Earth,
there are so many different cultures. Some like night and day.”

“I heard a little bit about that from Cale.”
He smiled. “I also hear you’re pretty powerful.”

She shot a bemused look at Cale. “I wouldn’t
say that, exactly.”

“Disintegrating a group of Kayadon sounds
powerful to me. Or is Cale making up stories again?”

“No, that happened. I didn’t really mean to,
though. It just sort of happened. I suppose if I could control it,
I’d agree.”

“Well, Cale thinks you’re the key to this
whole thing.”

Again she glanced at Cale with surprise.
“You do?”

Cale shrugged. “From what I’ve seen? Makes
sense. Nadua sees visions. Helpful for insight, but not combat.
Anya can read energies. She’d make a good sentinel. But your gift
seems geared for destruction.”

Destruction?

She pictured everything
around her burning, a sight seen more than once. Yet when she
imagined her home planet in flames, she had to bite back a sickly
feeling. She hadn’t considered fully till now that they were going
to battle the Kayadon.
She
was going to have to go to war with a gift that
was precarious at best. What if it failed her when she needed it
most?

She swallowed. “Wars don’t always need to be
won through brute force.”

Both Cale and Aidan snorted. Even Sonya made
a sound of amusement as though she were being silly.

Cale commented, “How else do you expect to
win? The Kayadon are a violent race. They’ll only respond to brute
force.” Then he said with complete confidence, “Once you’ve
mastered your gift, those bastards are ash.”