Interview With a Gargoyle (17 page)

He hated to admit it. Years of chasing demons, searching for the Cabochon as his ancestors had, brought him to many places he’d rather forget and led him to do many things he’d forever wish he hadn’t.

Trying to seduce a demon was top on his list of regrets.

Melodie, or rather the creature that stared out through her once-innocent eyes, tilted her chin and smirked. “Do tell. I’d have pegged you for a man with higher standards.”

He frowned. Lust and attraction hadn’t been part of that equation, only foolish desperation. “Helena was beautiful. She was half-human, half-something-else. There’s a breed called Domaré which mate with humans successfully. The hybrids live among humans, and they can hide pretty well.”

“Domaré. I’ve heard that word before, but I can’t remember where.”

Blake squinted at the woman before him. Was the demon in her fading back into the shadows or just lying in wait? He eased out of the doorway before responding. “Some have used the word as a surname. Helena’s family didn’t. I met her while researching demon breeds, around the time I first ran into Van Houten. She haunts some of the old libraries, collecting references to her kin. When I discovered what she was, I tried to…use her as a gateway to the demon world.”

“And how far did you get?”

He wondered why he was telling her all this. Would the demon in her use it against him? “Not very far. She figured me out. My seduction was clumsy, and since it wasn’t based on true feelings, I suppose I was a bit transparent.”

Melodie shrugged. “You felt something when you kissed me. I know you did.”

Blake took another sideways step, and his opponent inched toward the bedroom door. Tonight he was ready for her, and once he got her where he wanted her… “I won’t lie. I felt something for the woman I thought I was kissing.”

“There’s no one else in this body,” she said, and her voice rose in pitch. “It’s just me, ramped up on cabochon power. This is who I really am, or who I want to be. I’m tired of being an invisible little mouse. I can be more.”

Another inch and their positions had reversed. He stood in the hallway now, and she stood in the bedroom doorway.

“I know you can be but not with the power of the gem. It’s not meant for humans. It will destroy the real Melodie and replace her with something dark and cold. I can see that creature in your eyes, and I know you don’t want to become that.”

“How do you know what I want?”

“I can guess, because we’re a lot more alike than you think.”
One, two
… On five he’d strike.

“We both intend to get what we want,” she said. “That’s what we have in common.”

“I want to end the curse and destroy the Cabochon for good. Is that what you want?”

Again she fixed him with that deep, dark stare that grabbed hold of his insides. If
Melodie
had looked at him that way, he wouldn’t have been able to resist her. “Right now, I want
you
.”

“Well, then, I guess you should have what you want.” He lunged and had her on the bed in three steps. He’d expected a fight but got something much more sinister.

She writhed under him. With the water bed undulating and sloshing, Blake felt mildly seasick, like he had years ago in a rented canoe on a choppy lake in New York State. The Melodie-demon moved like a snake, clawing and nipping at him. A sound rumbled in the back of her throat. It might have been a sensual purr, but it sounded more like a growl.

“Go ahead,” she urged him. “Do it. I want to feel something, anything.”

“How’s this?” He hated himself for it, but it had to be done. He and Calypso had discussed it on the way to Melodie’s apartment. The power of the Cabochon had to be contained and kept somewhere safe. He only hoped the handcuffs he’d attached to the bedframe would be enough to hold her for the night.

He snapped a restraint on her left wrist and maneuvered quickly to catch the other one. She scratched him with nails too blunt for a demon, and the lack of damage she inflicted made her angry. Her growl morphed into a scream of rage.

“You can’t do this! You can’t keep me here.”

“I can’t keep a human imprisoned against her will, but right now, you’re not quite human, are you? You’re a little more and a little less.” He bounded off the bed, stood back and watched her struggle.

She kicked and seethed, yanking so hard on the chains binding the cuffs to the bed Blake worried she’d hurt herself. He caught her flailing legs and wrestled her pumps off so she couldn’t tear the vinyl cover of the mattress through the bedsheets. The last thing he needed was a flooded bedroom and a soaking-wet demon on his hands.

“Blake, please, don’t do this. I’ll behave, I promise!” The voice sounded like Melodie’s, but there was a steely undercurrent. She wasn’t herself yet.

“I’m sorry. Calypso thinks this is best for now, and I agree with her.”

“You can’t leave me here all day while you’re…you know…”

“Don’t worry. She’ll be here before sunrise to keep an eye on you. She may even have a spell that will help you by then, so relax and try to get some rest. Tomorrow this could all be over.”

She struggled so violently against the cuffs, the bed frame rattled. “What if I don’t want it to be? What if I like the new me?”

“You can be whatever you want to be when the Cabochon is removed. Trust me, Melodie. Just trust me.”

He doubted after this betrayal that she ever would, but he’d worry about that when they were both free of the curse. For now, he had work to do. He backed out of the room and closed the door, which helped to muffle her screams of rage. He had three hours until sunrise. Hopefully by then, she’d wear herself out and fall asleep.

He’d never been this close to ending the curse before. Likely none of the nine other men in his bloodline had either, yet he’d never felt less human in his life. He kissed his fingertips and touched them to the closed door before he left the darkened hallway. “I’m sorry, Melodie. I hope you’ll be able to forgive me one day.”

Calypso arrived half an hour before dawn with a bag of black stones and a sack of sweet-smelling herbs. She either had another spell in mind, or she was going to plant a garden. She looked paler than usual.

“What’s wrong?” he asked as he secured the front door behind her.

“I saw a handful of Fremlings out there skulking around. Have you checked all the doors and windows?”

“Yes, everything’s locked.” Blake moved aside the curtains on the window beside the front door. He saw nothing in the shadows, but years of experience told him not seeing a demon was no guarantee it wasn’t there.

Calypso bustled past him into the kitchen and set her supplies on the table. “We’re lucky. She hasn’t quite figured out how to summon them yet. They’re just drifting around out there, like they’re waiting for orders.”

“She’ll learn soon enough. She’s already figured out that not much can hurt her. The burn she got from your ward spell on her apartment healed within minutes.”

Calypso brushed her hair aside and nodded. “That’s what I was afraid of. The Cabochon is transforming her.”

Blake peered into the paper bag and sniffed. “What’s all this?”

“I’m going to ward the rest of your house, all round the bedroom. It’s probably best if she stays in there. Things could get messy, and you don’t want your neighbors to get suspicious.”

Blake stared at the dark-haired witch. “Messy?”

“The power of the Cabochon is increasing now that it has a new host. She’s going to get more…demony, louder, stronger and a lot angrier. Your place is more secluded. She’ll be safer here until we can get the proper spells from the Council to remove the Cabochon.” While she spoke, she set out the collection of black stones and unpacked the bag. “I’m going to try a calming spell that might muffle the power emanating from the gem and allow the real Melodie to take over.”

“I hate to keep her imprisoned, but I don’t want her to hurt herself.”

The witch caught him in her dark indigo gaze. “I’m her friend; neither do I. This is the best way to prevent her from doing any permanent damage to herself or anyone else.”

“How long is the Council going to take on this? She might get to the point where we can’t control her.”

“It won’t get that far. The Council won’t let that happen.”

“Will they let the curse continue?”

She looked away and busied herself with emptying supplies from the bags. “I don’t know. I think if they can break it, they will, but there are no guarantees. Old magick is best left alone.”

“So I get to suffer for the rest of my life because the witches are afraid of their own magick?” The constant buzz of the Cabochon had reached critical mass, and his anger at the discomfort of it threatened to boil over. How could he manage to have the cursed gem so close to him all the time—and how could he stand to part with it and risk losing his only chance to reclaim his life?

“It’s not the magick they’re afraid of, it’s the consequences. Releasing that much power could be deadly.”

A million replies came to mind but none he could trust himself to utter. Blake stepped back. He had only a few minutes left before sunrise, and he needed to hide himself away. Swallowing his comments, he turned and headed toward the basement door, leaving Calypso to her spells and incantations.

Chapter Seventeen

Melodie watched through bleary eyes as Calypso unfastened the cuffs which held her to Blake DeWitt’s bed. The events of the night before teased her conscience, and once again shame weighed heavily on her.

“I did it again, Cal. I threw myself at Blake.”

“And you ended up handcuffed to his bed. Not bad for a night’s work, in my book.” Calypso grinned sympathetically as she rubbed Mel’s sore wrists and helped her to sit up.

“Don’t joke about it. He seems to think I’m possessed. Do you think that? Is there some demon inside me along with the gem?”

“No. I think over the years the Cabochon has absorbed a lot of demon essence. That remark you made about being a Melodie-demon isn’t far from the truth. You’re unique, honey. You’re taking on demon characteristics from the stone, and they’re making you a little bit crazy. That’s all.”

Mel ran shaking fingers through her hair. “I don’t want to be a little bit crazy or any crazy. I want to go back to work. I want to taste something. I want to sleep without dreaming of Fremlings.”

“You will, soon. There are a couple of things we need to talk about first, though.”

“Like what?” Mel vaulted off the bed. As usual, after a long sleep, she felt revitalized and not at all demony. How long would this period of normalcy last though? She remembered the burn she’d suffered as a result of Calypso’s ward and rubbed at the spot on her arm where the injury had been. “Whatever it is, can we discuss it at my place? I want to take a shower and get changed and—”

She’d almost reached the door when Calypso grabbed her arm. “Don’t. Stay right here.”

“Why?”

“I warded the rest of DeWitt’s house. You can’t leave this room.”

Mel yanked her hand out of Cal’s grip. “What? Now
you’re
in on it? You’re going to keep me locked up here for how long?”

“Just a few days, until the Council makes a decision. They’ll come up with something, Mel. You have to trust them.”

“Trust them? I don’t even know them. Let me talk to them, Cal. Why can’t I go and talk to them?”

“It’s not that simple. I’m sorry, Mel. I know this sucks, but you’re in a lot of danger. The demon breeds will know about the Cabochon, and they’re all going to come looking for you.”

Mel narrowed her eyes. “But they can’t hurt me.”

“Some of them can. Just because you heal fast doesn’t mean you can’t be killed, and if another demon gets hold of the Cabochon, DeWitt may never be able to break the curse.” Cal put her hands on Mel’s shoulders. The contact served only to irritate her, but she endured it. “Mel, you’re his only chance. If anything happens to you…”

“Why do I have to stay here? Can’t you unward my place?”

“It’s just better if you’re here, away from people who might start asking questions.”

Mel paced. Something didn’t feel right. Not that being held prisoner should ever feel right, but for the first time since they’d met, she didn’t quite trust Calypso. Clearly her friend was hiding something.

“What aren’t you telling me?”

“Nothing. I’m telling you everything I know.”

Mel didn’t buy it. “Are you sure?”

Cal crossed her fingers. “Scout’s honor.”

“That’s not scout’s honor. It’s three fingers, not two.”

Calypso uncrossed her fingers. “Mel, please, trust me.”

“That’s what Blake said too. I’m not sure who to trust. I just want to go home. I promise I’ll behave.”

“You can’t promise that, Mel. You’re not in control. Come on, sit down and relax. I’ll bring you some breakfast, and we’ll talk. I’ve cooked up a little potion that should help you keep the demon tendencies at bay. I also brought you some clothes from your place and…uh-oh.”

“What uh-oh?”

“I need to adjust the wards a little bit if you want to go to the bathroom. Sorry about that. Sit tight, I’ll be right back.”

Mel gaped as Calypso slipped out the bedroom door. She would have run after her, but even though her skin showed no evidence of the ward burn, the memory of the pain it caused lingered. Instead she placed herself just inside the threshold and yelled down the hall. “You owe me big-time for this, Calypso Smith! Big time!”

Every bone in Percival’s body ached. His tortured muscles screamed, but still he refused to acknowledge his own agony.

He’d rather die than profess his weakness to a demon, even one as stunningly beautifully as the Domaré queen. He’d rather have died than do many things, and maybe tonight, before sunrise stole his breath again, he’d get his fondest wish.

When the dark-haired woman approached him, he strained against the leather straps that bound him to the wall of her boudoir.

“Tut, tut, my lord. Don’t struggle so. I’ll set you free very soon.” Her voice rode over his frayed nerves like a balm, as smoky as the incense-heavy air in her abode. Violet eyes appraised him almost lovingly as she ran a manicured hand over his naked chest.