Demon Retribution (Shadow Quest Book 3) (18 page)

He gave her satirical grin.

Zoey announced begrudgingly, “I bake when
I’m anxious.”

“
I can see that.” Working
around the piles of food, she poured herself a heaping mug of black
liquid, blending it with a bit of cream. Then she grabbed what
looked like a lemon muffin and joined them at the table. “Sorry
for…making you bake.”

“
That’s okay. It’s not your
fault if you can’t control your weird fairy magic,” Zo replied, and
Kyra rolled her eyes at the word fairy. “Cale said he might be able
to help you with that.”

Kyra’s eyes found Cale. “Is that so?”

He shrugged. “I’ve been working with your
sister’s gift. It wouldn’t hurt to try a few things. I’d like to
learn more about what you go through first.”

“
You’ve pretty much had a
front row seat to the action twice now.”

“
I mean what do you feel
when it happens? Or, rather, how are you feeling? What sparks it,
and why?”

“
That’s easy. It has to be
fear. I’ve always been in danger when it happens, or I
felt
I was in danger,”
she amended sheepishly.

Cale didn’t say anything for a moment. Then
he cleared his throat. “That could be it. Have you ever tried to
harness the power when you’re not afraid or in danger?”

“
I have tried a little bit,
but I couldn’t exactly practice around people, or even within a
town without the fear of blowing up a building or killing someone.
And when you’re all alone in the wilderness, potentially knocking
yourself out for hours is not the safest thing to do. So mostly I
try not to use it.”

“
Would you be up for some
training after breakfast?”

Kyra took stock of her body. The long rest
and shower had helped rejuvenate her, and coffee always infused her
with energy. “Sure, but…are you positive you want to do this? I
think it was pure luck that I was able to keep from killing you so
far.”

The only response she received was a single
shoulder shrug, and once she bit into her muffin, she couldn’t
concentrate on anything else but consuming every last crumb. She
did manage a mouth-filled compliment aimed at Zoey, who beamed back
at her.

Once she had downed the last of her coffee
and grabbed an energy drink for good measure, she followed Cale
outside. Zoey tried to follow, but Cale ordered her back in the
house.

“
You’re not the boss of
me,” she protested, though her tone lacked conviction.

“
Please, Zo,” Kyra pleaded.
“This is going to be dangerous enough with Cale around, and I don’t
think I’ll be able to do much knowing you’re nearby.”

“
Fine,” she relented.
Before disappearing into the house, Zoey conveyed a look that said,
“Be careful.”

Cale led her a short ways into the woods,
stopping when they came to a twenty foot clearing. The cabin was
still partly visible through the trees.

“
Here?” she asked when Cale
came to a stop.

“
This’ll do for now.” He
pointed to a tree stump, about waist high. “I don’t want to do too
much now, just get a feel for where you’re at. Have you ever been
able to aim or direct the energy?”

“
I never really tried
before.”

“
From where you’re
standing, do you think you can affect the stump or anything around
it?”

“
Affect it how? By blowing
it up?”

“
Try not to if you can, but
that would still be something. See if you can hit it with your
magic. Actually, let’s try a tap first.”

“
A tap,” she repeated in a
flat tone. “Sure, that’s what I’m known for.”

Cale turned severe. “If we’re going to do
this, you need to take it seriously. Otherwise, we shouldn’t even
bother.”

“
Alright, I’m sorry. I’m
just not sure how to start, is all. And maybe you should step back
or something.”

Cale rolled his eyes. “Just have a
seat.”

She did. The ground felt a little damp and
was covered by a thin layer of brown fallen leaves. Yet the trees
still sported an array of brilliant autumn colors.

Cale claimed a spot about ten feet to her
left and leaned against a thick tree. He looked perfectly at ease
even though he knew what could happen if her magic went
haywire.

A rampant part of her brain appraised him
with feminine appreciation. He’d changed into a pair of dark wash
jeans and a dark button down shirt. His hair spiked in that perfect
bed-messed way that almost camouflaged his horns. She remembered
running her hands through it and how soft it felt in the crevices
of her fingers.

As if sensing her thoughts, he raised a brow
at her, and she mentally shook herself. “Okay, what now?”

“
You remember when I
frightened both you and Zoey the other day in the car?”

“
I wasn’t frightened, I was
pissed.”

He gave her a patronizing look. “Right. But,
you recall how I was different then from how I am now?”

“
Yes. Your eyes were red
and…” Her gaze dropped to his mouth. “I think you had
fangs.”

“
I always have fangs.” He
smiled wide to show her a set of pointy canines. “But they’re
receded now. However, not the point. What you saw was what we call
the Edge. Happens to us all, and it’s hard to control. When our
emotions blaze…” He stopped for an accusatory glance in her
direction. She crossed her arms stubbornly, and he continued with a
hint of amusement, “Our bodies secrete a mixture of chemicals, like
super concentrated adrenalin, if you will. It makes us stronger and
more aggressive. Two very good things when needed, but it also
scrambles our reasoning skills. So if we don’t train to control
ourselves in that state, we could end up harming those around us
without meaning to.”

“
So you could have attacked
me then?”

He jutted his chin. “I was in perfect
control of myself.”

“
Then you intentionally
dented my car?”

His lips thinned. “Are you trying to start
an argument?”

“
No, please continue with
the lesson, Oh Great One.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose, but went
on. “A demon will train for years to master the Edge in battle. To
be able to both use the strength while retaining cognitive
reasoning. And also to be able to invoke the Edge without emotions
getting in the way. That one’s harder. Much harder.”

“
So you think my emotions
are fouling me up?”

“
In a way. I think it’s
easier for you to invoke your gift when you really need it, and
that tends to be when you’re in danger. The instinct to survive is
one of the most powerful motivators in the universe. Of the many
races, it binds us all in commonality.”

“
Well, what do you suggest
I do? Convince myself I’m in danger from the stump?”

Shaking his head, he grumbled, “You know, if
you weren’t mildly adorable, I would walk away right now.”

Heat entered her cheeks. “I’m really not
trying to be a pain in the ass.”

He studied her for a moment longer. “I want
you to, first of all, be patient. Rather than trying to fool
yourself into a certain state of mind, try to remember, instead,
what it felt like when you were already there.”

“
Alright.” She sat for a
while, recalling random moments when she’d used her gift, trying to
remember what she had felt then. As she did this, her gaze
wandered. First to the stump, her target. Then the fallen leaves. A
bug fluttered by, then came back to hover by her head, forcing her
to wave it away.

She took in a breath and let it out. Her
legs had been tucked underneath her for some time, so she crossed
them and adjusted her posture. Unthinking, she picked up a stick
and started breaking it into pieces, looking back at the stump.
When her stick was no more than scraps, she found another one and
began the process again.

She glanced at Cale. He hadn’t moved an
inch, wasn’t fidgeting like she was, but instead watched her with a
calm expression. She expected him to get on her case about
concentrating, but he didn’t.

“
Are you just going to sit
there?” she asked.

“
Yes.”

“
This may take a
while.”

“
I realize that. Don’t
worry about me, and don’t feel rushed. If something does happen, I
want to be here to make sure you’re okay.”

A stack of tightened nerves eased in her
neck, and she felt grateful for his presence. With him here, she
could test out her ability without the fear of being vulnerable if
she lost consciousness. She understood how invaluable this chance
was to her, yet how dangerous it could be for him if she couldn’t
keep control.

No, I can’t think like
that
.

He was strong. Had survived her twice now.
And, somewhere deep down, she felt he would survive anything she
could throw at him. But, would he be disappointed if she made no
progress? She went back to the task.

Hmm, she thought. What did it feel like just
before the firestorm? Frightening, for sure, but she couldn’t think
past that. There must be something else. It couldn’t be just a fear
based magic, because there had been plenty of times were she’d been
afraid and hadn’t been brought to self-destruct.

Most of those memories were buried deep, far
from where they could hurt her. Over the years, she’d taken on a
sort of live-in-the-now attitude—coupled with a healthy dose of
caution, of course—and had developed a talent for brushing off bad
situations, locking them away. Now she gave herself permission to
open the safe and take a long, hard look back.

About seventy years after her arrival on
earth, she’d moved to a small town in England. Being new to the
area, she set out to integrate herself into society, hoping to
remain there for ten years or more. By that time, she’d become
somewhat of an expert at using vagueness to answer questions and
directing conversations away from herself. But, at a particular
gathering, she’d been a little careless with her ears, and someone
had caught a glimpse. Next thing she knew, she was racing through a
dark forest to get away from a hysterical lynch mob. She wasn’t as
good at running then, what with the silly shoes and bulky gowns,
and eventually they caught up with her. She had learned a little
about defense—enough, at least, to get them to let her go and think
twice about following her again. Her gift wasn’t needed then,
though she had been frightened out of her mind.

No. It couldn’t be fear that fueled the
fire. Although, as soon as she concluded the point, another memory
surfaced: the first time she’d ever used her magic. It had been
shortly after landing somewhere in a rainforest—a location that
managed to elude her all these years.

Curious about her new world, she’d left her
shuttle to explore. It wasn’t long before she was captured. Later,
she decided the trajectory of the craft must have drawn interest.
Although, it could have just been wrong place, wrong time.

She’d been taken aboard a large boat that
set sail across the sea. The males who held her captive, most of
them lightly tanned with dark hair, spoke a language she hadn’t
been able to understand at the time. To this day she couldn’t
identify it.

After a few weeks, her seasickness abated,
and some of the crew began to sneak below deck where she was
chained, just to get a look at her—at first, anyway. Over time,
some grew bolder and wanted to touch her hair, her skin.

Her mind cringed, but she forced herself to
remember.

They were obviously wary of her in the
beginning, and because of that she’d thought they might leave her
be, but she—or rather they—weren’t that lucky.

One night, a few had come down in a group,
their intentions clear. Instinctively, she recognized the danger,
and her pulse had gone into overdrive. She was trapped, chained.
She tried to kick, but they hadn’t been feeding her well and she
was weak. Someone grabbed her ankle, then the other. They pulled at
her clothing. A hand came over her chest.

And that’s when it happened.

Something from inside tore free, ripping its
way out. She screamed as it burned in her veins, fueled by her
blood, consuming and destructive. She recalled the screams, both
hers and theirs.

A gentle hand clamped over her shoulder, and
she jumped. Cale’s voice calmed her. “I think we should take a
break.”

She lifted her head to see him looking at
her with concern. Her knees had come up to her chest, and her arms
had wrapped around them. As she curled into herself, she shook. “I
guess that didn’t work out so well.”

Cale turned optimistic. “We don’t know that
yet. Do you want to talk about it?”

She hesitated for a moment, but was no
longer ashamed of what she’d done to survive. Mustering a steady
voice, she retold the story of her introduction to planet Earth. It
wasn’t until she’d finished that she noticed how rigid Cale had
become. She took in his features and thought she saw a tight
restraint in the outline of his jaw. He stood and walked away,
stopping with one arm against the same tree he’d been sitting by.
She watched him, confused by his reaction.

Finally, he said, “Okay,” as he scrubbed a
hand over his face. “Alright.” Another tense moment. “But they
didn’t hurt you?”

“
No. I got away. I must
have destroyed half the ship, although I hadn’t realized what I’d
done for some time after that. I’d managed to pull myself onto a
bit of ship debris before I lost consciousness…Are you
okay?”