The Demon Within (10 page)

The only plausible explanation was that his senses had dulled by centuries trapped inside the statue.

But that was not the only thing that fascinated him about this woman. It was by happenstance that he noticed the way the demons acted around her. Some watched her like a wild animal prowling its cage, while others went out of their way to avoid her.

What confused him the most was he’d swear she could sense them as well. But demons, unless they were in their true forms, should’ve been undetectable.

Unless the person was marked by a demon and labeled property. Only, Caly wouldn’t willingly allow herself to be used by demons in exchange for favors. She wasn’t the type.

In any case, if that were true, it would’ve been impossible for her to wake him at all. With his freedom at stake, the unanswered questions plagued him worse than centuries of imprisonment. She presented an intriguing mystery, one he was determined to unravel.

Or at least he tried to convince himself that was the real reason he couldn’t take his eyes off her. Even while she slept, he lingered by her side when he should be setting up safeguards.

He justified his attention that he needed to pick up her habits, needed her to be predictable so he could keep her safe. The rational part of him warned that his fascination was a danger to his freedom if he didn’t get it under control.

In the hallway, Ruman shifted restlessly. He couldn’t let go of the feeling that he was missing the obvious. There had to be a clue here. To the right was the entrance to the basement, the left was the living room. Small and unused, the place appeared abandoned.

Furniture rested under mauve covers, leaving the room haunted by eras gone by. He wouldn’t be surprised if past generations walked through the door, alive and well, and made themselves at home.

The longer he searched the house, the stronger the feeling grew that she wasn’t normal. Women cluttered things up. This one cut everything out of her life.

She was hiding something.

A silver frame above the fireplace caught the light, luring him closer. It was the only picture in the whole house. In it was a younger version of Caly with a pale lab at her side and the stern old man he recognized from the temple. Instead of the joy he expected to see, Caly looked hunted. He lifted the frame off the mantle, angling it closer.

A garrote slipped around his throat before he sensed anyone behind him. Heat scorched wherever the metal touched. Dropping the frame, he clawed for the wire imbedded in his throat. Air rattled in his chest as he struggled for breath. The only thing that prevented the metal from dissolving his flesh was his ancestry.

The pain was new for him, physical sensations were usually diluted to allow him to focus on his task without concern for himself. That barrier had disappeared, ripped away when he needed it most. With his freedom so close within reach, it could only be another test. He couldn’t spend another decade in this eternal hell. Arching his back, he hissed in a much needed breath of air but couldn’t get a grip on that blasted wire.

His attacker took advantage of his distraction, jumping on his back for better leverage. Stumbling under the added weight, Ruman lurched across the room. His shin bashed into an end table, but the person clung to him like a leech. No matter which way he twisted, the damn creature retained its hold.

Each second weakened him.

Ringing sounded in his ears, his vision darkened around the edges. This newfound frailty not only surprised him, but pissed him off. He twisted, trying to throw his attacker over his head and ended up ramming into the couch. The hard wood gouged deep into his thigh.

Damnation anyway.

He couldn’t die and leave Caly vulnerable until he recovered. In a last-ditch effort, he turned and slammed his back into the wall, fast and hard.

For a fraction of a second, the hold loosened.

Blessed air wheezed through his throat.

It was enough.

Anger sizzled in his veins at being caught unaware. He cracked his elbow back into the body behind him. The sheer power, if somewhat dubious strength of a demon, should’ve been enough to cave in the chest of a human. The blow only glanced off his assailant.

A grunt of pain escaped his attacker, and a grim smile curled his lips. The garrote dislodged. He reached up and ripped away the offensive wire, tossing it aside like it was a live thing ready to spring at his throat again. The thought of Caly having to face the intruder, all alone, enraged him. The possibility of her escaping was slim at best.

How dare they try to steal his salvation from him.

She was his.

Ruman crouched low and turned to face his attacker.

Only to come face to face with the woman he’d been stalking. Shock of recognition nearly dumped him on his ass. How could he not have known?

The pain had to be terrible, yet she managed to remain upright. Not only did she not give up, two wicked looking blades in her hands gleamed in the weak moonlight.

He shifted slightly, then narrowed his eyes when she countered his move. The inky blackness didn’t restrict his vision, but it should have left a human virtually blind.

Another mystery to add to the growing stack that made her all the more of a delicious riddle to solve.

Sensing his distraction, she attacked. He lurched backwards, stumbled over a footstool and barely managed to dodge out of the way as her blades sliced through the air. The restricted way she moved her left arm told him her ribs hurt more than she wanted to let him know. A surprising dart of remorse tightened his lips.

Liquid dripped from his brow. When he reached up, a bead of blood coated his fingers. He smeared the evidence with his thumb, stunned since neither demons nor angels bleed.

Another damn test. It had to be. One he would not fail. He had a feeling all the changes this time around were her fault.

Ruman focused on his opponent, determined to disarm her without further injury to either of them. The questions were a distraction he didn’t need if he wanted them both to survive.

He examined her in the moonlight, searching for weakness, but quickly became lost in the study of her. Layers of hair escaped from her braid, softening her face. Her chest moved with each short gasp, but it was her eyes that drew him. Deep and green as the outdoors, they were alive with emotions he could almost taste. And he wanted a taste to fill the centuries of nothingness.

A leg shot out, almost a blur, her boot heel landing inches from his thigh. Distracted by his unruly thoughts, he scarcely had time to block and grab her ankle. She jerked back, but he held tight. Now that he knew his attacker, he refused to ruin his chance at redemption.

He couldn’t start over again.

He couldn’t take the years of solitude.

“Cease.” His voice had once commanded thousands of souls. The compulsion should have been sufficient to control any human.

Instead of obeying, her eyes narrowed.

How could he not even control a woman?

Instead of defeat or even rational reaction, she jumped and swung her other leg around, connecting with his shoulder hard enough to knock him from his crouch.

Refusing to release his hold on her, they landed together in a jumble of arms and legs. His temple cracked against the base of the fireplace, sending shock waves through his system. Black dots danced before his eyes. Pain made his stomach clench against the urge to heave.

He couldn’t fail. Not now, not here, and not in front of her. Blinking to clear his gaze, he saw her blade descend in a quick arc toward his neck. Ruman arched his back, unbalancing her from her seated position straddling his hips.

She tumbled and landed on her ass with a grunt. Though winded and slow, she was on her feet in a matter of seconds, crouched, ready for battle with those blasted knives clutched in both fists.

Taking advantage of her slight hesitation, Ruman lashed out. A hard chop of his hand to her forearm sent one knife clattering across the room. The other sliced at him. The area she hit stung. All that saved him from a nasty wound was his leather jacket.

The few emotions his kind dealt with were never so wildly uncontrolled. The longer he stayed in close proximity to this woman, the faster his protective barriers fell. If he didn’t nip this in the bud, he’d lose this chance for redemption.

A chill like cold fingers curled itself around his back and crept across his chest. His stomach bottomed out at the unpleasant sensation at the thought of going back into that statue.

Like hell.

In a move too fast for a human to track, he launched himself at her. Even so, the blasted woman managed to leap partially out of range. His arms ended looped around her hips.

As they sailed through the air, he twisted to land on top this time.

Even then it was a stretch.

Her quick, agile body almost slipped out of his grip. It was only by the grace of angels that he’d managed to hold her.

He blocked the knife she twisted his way. His fingers encircled her wrists, her bones so delicate his fingers overlapped. The wickedly sharp blade stopped inches from his heart.

Increasing the pressure, he waited for the metal to drop. The chit winced, but she refused to release the weapon. Her hand should be numb. People were so fragile, any more pressure and he’d risked permanently damaging her.

Unbelievably, her legs shifted as she tried to twist from beneath him. Flat on her back, pinned to the floor, she still fought.

Admiration and something else made its way inside him. Careful so as not to hurt her or allow her to escape, Ruman relaxed in increments, shifting his weight until his body covered every inch of hers. By brute strength, he forced her arms to the floor, pinning them above her head.

They lay nose to nose. Muscles quivered beneath his, tensed, waiting for an opening. For each subtle gesture, he countered. Breathing raggedly, his body sore from the punishment this human had inflicted on him, Ruman stared as if seeing her for the first time.

A human was a human. They were born. Most lived short, insignificant lives and then died. As an angel, he had listened to their sins, recorded them since the beginning of time. And yet, only now did he wonder about their lives.

This one was resilient.

Unrelenting and fearless.

Stupidly brave and reckless in the face of danger.

And beautiful.

The thought struck him from nowhere but once there, it wouldn’t go away. Face to face, less than an inch separating them, he studied her eyes. A deep green, so dark and mysterious he couldn’t turn away.

So many secrets.

The way she studied him in return gave him pause. A strange heat tightened his gut, spreading through his system in a way that made him want to get away from her and gather her close at the same time.

She blinked, and the spell broke enough to allow breath back into his body again. Thoughts took a bit longer.

Hair haloed her head. The color, a rich brown chopped in careless layers, revealed different shades of red and gold. He estimated the length came to the middle of her back. Unconsciously, he shifted his hold and raised a hand to touch a strand that had landed across her throat, determined to find out if her hair would be as warm and inviting as it looked.

“My death will gain you nothing and will not go unpunished.” The muscles of her neck strained to complete the sentence. It took him a moment to comprehend and shake himself out of his stupor.

“I am not the enemy, woman. If you’d given me a moment to explain, this could’ve been avoided.”

“Ah, yes. I can’t imagine why I didn’t think of asking a demon half breed who broke into my house what he was doing.” She spat the slur, her accusation smarting despite the truth of her words.

“I followed you—”

“From the temple.”

Ruman gave her a pointed look and waited for her silence. He’d be damned if he had to fight her every step of the way. She would play by his rules now.

Her teeth clenched, and she lifted her chin defiantly in a way that made him want to run his fingers down her jaw. The smooth skin had a glow that drew him, distracted him. He followed the line of her jaw to her throat and saw her swallow.

“Then explain already. You’re a little heavy for a blanket.” Her huff of breath snapped his gaze to hers, and he shook his head to rid himself from his delusional desire to touch her.

“You summoned me at the temple. I am a guardian demon.”

The twist of her lips was anything but humorous. “You failed miserably. The temple was destroyed.”

Annoyed at her dismissive words and caustic attitude, Ruman shook his head. “Not to guard the temple. You.”

“Me, what?”

With her eyes narrowed, her gaze reminded him of a predator on the hunt. “You’re the one to be guarded.”

A strangled sound escaped her, like her laugh caught in her throat. He almost regretted that he couldn’t hear it. Until she spoke again. “You must be joking.”

Ruman reared back, almost losing his hold on her wiggling form. With a flex of his body, he barely managed to subdue her when she moved, lightning fast, to escape. The brief struggle left him edgy.