Phoenix Broken (32 page)

"You'll do what you’re told. You don't have a choice." Preshea tossed her head imperiously.

"Fuck off, you mouthy cunt."

"Who do you think you
are?"
Daimen watched Preshea's perfect little mouth gape at Docie May. His own expression was carefully bored as he watched the two blondes circle each other. One so perfectly fragile and doll-like, the other tall, rangy and much the worse for wear. Their expressions identically savage.

"Not a jumped-up whore who pretends to run things, when really she's just getting
fucked."

"Better fucked than fucked
over,
sweetheart. Who's in the cage?"

He dearly wanted to rub his hands together when Docie May leapt, but instead Daimen waded in to separate the two. Taking his sweet time, of course. 

Preshea had age and power on Docie May, but his offspring had sheer orneriness on her side. Not to mention desperation. Daimen didn’t blame her for being antsy, she’d been stuck in limbo for three weeks thank to the tangles of demon politics.

But that wasn’t his fault. He’d told her so, told her to be patient, but she didn’t seem to trust him anymore since their last encounter.

Docie May had well and truly cracked. Which meant they couldn’t trust her to play her part. Not unless Daimen accompanied her arm in arm, keeping under his control all the while—which would rather defeat the purpose.

He thought of the
para
and his lip curled. No, thank you. The next time he saw Scott Davidson face to face, Daimen wanted the elemental bleeding, broken and begging for his life.

Docie May was supposed to be his key to that, but he had hopes for her yet. 

"You'll do what you're told, or you'll starve for real." Preshea spit the words over his shoulder as Docie May sank on shaking legs to her cot.

She was weak. They'd kept her that way deliberately for weeks—putting her off by having the demons give excuses of not wanting to draw attention to the safe house with bleeder deliveries—but now, they'd reduced her opportunities to feed to the bare minimum for survival.

"Go ahead." Docie May said. Her wild eyes found his and held on. "Only your new boyfriend won't allow that, will you, Daimen? He needs me still."

He smiled. A trifle regretfully. She knew him so well. Starving her would be wasteful, and lacked flair. No, his Docie May would be going out with a bang, not a whimper.

Literally. His smile widened.

Docie May drew back at the sight of it, shaking again. She started to rock back and forth, her arms around her middle. Daimen pulled Preshea into the hall and shut the door.

He stood there a moment, breathing hard at a sudden unfamiliar ache in his chest. He'd be sorry to lose her, he really would.

Preshea seemed to scent his weakness, her fangs flashed in the darkness. "She must die, Daimen, you know this. She's much too dangerous, too volatile. If you don’t do it, I will.”

"Undoubtedly, sweetling." He made appropriate soothing noises as he lead her down the hall. Yes, Docie May was going to have to be sacrificed; this little scene had made sure of that. Preshea would need her own 'petty' revenge, and there was his own ego to consider. The one person he'd thought would remain true forever had shown herself unworthy of his trust. She must be sacrificed. Daimen rubbed at his temple as he opened the door for a still fuming Preshea, ignoring the demon guard's rolled eyes.

It was time to say his goodbyes, but Daimen did indeed have one more use for his pet before he put her down.

It was going to be one hell of an exit.

Scott slowed abruptly, then pulled to the curb in the increasingly bad weather. Des had seen snow before, in her numerous trips to Europe, but she still watched it fall every time with a kind of mesmerized bemusement.

She and Scott hadn't spoken since the scene in the IT room. Which meant neither of them had suggested skipping their planned rendezvous, either. So, Des gave him a puzzled look as he dashed out of the car and around to her side to yank open her door.

"I got an idea for the kids for Christmas. I just wanna pop in and take a look, okay?" he said. "You wanna come?"

She raised her eyebrows at the tinge of excitement he couldn't hide. "Of course, I do. I'm intrigued by anything that makes you delay sex. What are we popping in to look at?"

"A puppy for the twins. Maybe."

"Ooooh, okay!" She jumped out of the car, promptly sliding in the icy mess left by the impromptu storm.

"Island girl, you need to get your snow legs." Scott laughed as he wrapped an arm around her waist, supporting her as they walked down the slippery sidewalk.

"Oh, I got them, right here." She patted his bicep with a wink, glad to feel the tension between them dissipate. "Besides, I think it's pretty."

Scott looked around at the dingy white that was slowly turning to murky grey by the rushing city traffic and raised his eyebrows. She giggled as he reached to open the door of the small shop. Yips, barks and growls filled the air and the warm scent of puppy breath quickly surrounded them. 

Des ran forward to the gated display in the center of the store, picking up a teacup Chihuahua. A brown and white one with suede soft fur that immediately licked her nose. "This one is cute."

"Yes." Scott shook his head as he took the pup from her gently, but firmly. "It's also too damn small. I don't want an ankle biter. They need a real dog. Something sturdy." He set the pup— that looked even tinier in his hand—back on the floor, where it ran back to its friends.

"Oh," she deepened her voice to match his low tones. "A
manly
dog."

Scott rolled his eyes, and chuckled. "Exactly. What about…"

His voice faded away as Des' eyes fell on a little Cocker Spaniel towards the back. It was a chestnut one with a wavy coat and bright brown eyes. The whole room started to tilt sideways as she stared at the animal.
Spinning.
Her lungs went tight. Without a word, Des dashed outside into the cold.

The bell rang as Scott followed at her heels.

"What the hell, Des? Are you—?"

She whirled and leapt into his arms, hearing the 'oomph' as he took her weight but not caring. Her eyes shut tightly as she listened to the strong beat of his heart, wanting to forget everything, to force the awful memory back into the past, where it had been lurking before leaping out in that store like some terrible Jack in the Box.

"Des," he cupped her chin, tilting her face up. "You're kinda scaring me here, angel."

She nodded, pushing away from his warmth. "Sorry, it's just …just…" her eyes filled and Scott cursed. She dashed the back of her hand at her eyes, angry with herself, knowing how much tears affected him, but when she tried to turn away, he held her firm.

"Tell me."

"It's silly, really." Clearing her throat, she took a step back, trying to get ahold of herself. It had become all too easy to lean on him.
Dangerous.
Scott didn't release her, but he allowed the space, his eyes intent.

"From where I'm standing it doesn't look one fucking bit silly," he said. The look on his face stabbed at her heart. She looked away, up at the gunmetal grey sky, taking a breath to steady her nerves as fat, wet snowflakes fell on her cheeks.

"It's just … I just remembered something. About …Valencio." She hadn't meant to say the name aloud, but she was rattled and it slipped. "Something I'd forgotten."

"You went really still the last time you mentioned him, too. Like this. Like you're holding your breath, waiting for something awful to happen. I don't get it." Scott studied her, putting his hands in his pockets. She'd seen the clenched fists though, and understood he was both angry and frustrated, and trying to control both. Scott loathed not being in control of his emotions. Learning that about him had made her finally understand why the thought of her powers had been so difficult for him. "Isn't he Calimente's father?"

She nodded mutely, but said no more, poking at a patch of melting snow with the toe of her boot.

"Des, come on. Out with it." His voice was harsh, but in these last couple weeks, she'd figured out that part of him, too. Scott was mad because she was hurting. He wanted information so he could fix it. Unfortunately for them both, there was no fixing a bad memory.

She shrugged, swallowing hard at the same time.

"I had a puppy once. Squirt. It was a long time ago, I was very small. I didn't name her that, by the way." The muted brown and grey landscape went blurry as the memories came back. "I think it was Guido. Because she peed whenever she got excited." Her lips curved even as they trembled. "I loved that goddamn thing. I had her less than a month and I loved her so fucking much. How does that work?" Des shook her head, her throat tight. "How can you give your heart away so quickly and completely?

She looked up at Scott with tears still gleaming in her eyes.

"It happen," he said, in a voice gone soft as the falling snow. "What happened, Des? With Valencio?"

"We were playing in the gardens, me and Squirt. She ran away from me and I chased her. We came around a hedge and there he was. She went right to him even though I called for her to stop. He scared me.
Always.
" She wrapped her arms around herself, cupping her elbows so tightly her knuckles went white. "I don't remember a time when that man didn't scare me." The shock of the memory forced the honesty from her.

She'd never admitted to anyone how Valencio made her feel. Maybe things would be different if she had. Des swayed. Scott made to reach for her, but she stepped back again, afraid of breaking down completely. "He scooped her up in his hands. She was so tiny and his hands were so big …"

"Valencio held her out to me, with a smile on his face, like he was going to give her back. Come on,
anipaesmaitae."
She paused, her eyes trailing past Scott, to the cars rushing by. The sounds of tires kicking up slush; white noise in the background.

"That means 'little whore' in Saanis." Scott muttered something under his breath, but she ignored him. "I was too young then to know what that meant. I asked Guido later and didn't understand when he came unglued. I lied and told him one of the kids in the village said it to me." She blinked. "Huh, I'd forgotten that. So I guess I've gotten away with lying to him twice." Shaking her head, Des didn't notice the flash in Scott's eyes. She was too busy remembering.

How old had she been then? Five maybe? Six? Younger than Scott's twins were now, surely.

Floppy ears falling over elegant fingers, glossy golden hair curling over Valencio's knuckles. His laugh, like the pet shop's bell, but deeper, tolling in her ears.

"Look what I found, Desdemona. That's it, closer..." Smiling and nodding, her big friend's handsome father. She fought her silly fear, doing as he bade...

"He broke her neck. One twist and that was it. Then he let her fall into my hands. I dropped her and ran away. I just…ran."

Des raised her eyes to Scott's. He looked sick and furious. "Didn't you tell anyone? Your father?
Guido?"

"No. They wouldn't have believed me. Well, Guido would've. I think. But as a kid could you have told an adult that you absolutely adored that his father did something like that?" She shook her head. "Even for a demon, that was a pretty harsh thing to do to a child."

"Yeah, just a bit. Goddamn it, Des." He scrubbed at the top of his head, the falling snow making it stick up in dark gold spikes. "What did Augustine do when the pup was found?"

"She wasn't. I told you I ran away. Valencio must've gotten rid of the body. I stayed in my bedroom all night, told them all I was sick."

"You didn't tell your mother?"

The hollow laugh seemed to tear something inside her. "No, I probably would've, but she wasn't there. She was visiting friends on the mainland. Due back the next afternoon."
Valencio thought of that, he thought of everything.
"When we were all at breakfast the next day, my dad asked where Squirt was. I started tearing up, looking right at him. All demons have a gift for deception, but that man… He was smoother than silk."

"Ah yes, I think I saw Desdemona looking for her yesterday. In the garden. Poor thing was so distraught, didn't you find her then, Des? Perhaps the pup ran away…perhaps the foxes. Foxes do have a way of eating delicate things."

She shivered and this time when Scott pulled her into his arms, she didn't resist. Not that she could've. His arms were like warmed steel, caging her in and trying to keep the bad thoughts out. Only it was too late. "He said it looking right at me. My dad always called my mother
arga magz.
Delicate flower."

"Your mother. He made you think he would hurt her?" Scott's voice had gone quiet and he was studying her in a way that made her think he saw far too much.
Oh, Scott, if you only knew.

She shivered.
Be careful, Des.
His arms tightened and leaned into him, unable to resist.

"Of course, he made me think that." She whispered against the warmth of his throat. "It was sport to him, a game to play. They don't view cruelty the way humans do."