Wicked Whispers (28 page)

“No.
No.
” She shook her head, wishing she could bolt from this room and wipe the horrible image from her mind. But it was there. Forever.

“We move on.” Sparkle’s voice was a whisper promising more of the same.

The music gained intensity. A recognizable melody and beat began to emerge. But it still spoke of a primitive need to destroy everything and everyone.

Ivy felt as though someone had taped her eyes open. She couldn’t close them, couldn’t escape the scenes rolling over her. Humans who died screaming, torn apart by teeth and claws. Destroyed villages, silent and empty, filled only with slaughtered bodies and flies drawn to the blood.

“Thousands of years passed, and Murmur slowly shed his savagery. His music became more important than the kill. And when he destroyed, he did it with his music. He was a surgeon, and his music was his scalpel.” Sparkle’s voice was a hypnotic chant.

The music became a smooth river of sound that separated into thin strands. Murmur used those strands to coldly and methodically cut his prey into nothing more than strips of bloody meat.

The images came faster, blurring into year after year after year of music and all the ways it could kill.

Ivy wanted to clap her hands over her ears, to shut out the music. The complex compositions had become so much more deadly than the raw sounds Murmur had cast out when he’d first crawled onto the mortal plane. They compelled you to dance and dance and never stop until you died. They wrapped fingers of sweet, sad notes around your throat and squeezed, and then…

Ivy frowned and stared at the screen. Something had changed. Murmur stood on a beach staring out at the water. His back was to her, but there was a familiarity to the scene.

Then the music shifted, became something softer, something…

She knew that music—the rhythm, the melody that tempted, seduced. She’d danced to it with him that first night.

And finally the last scene. Murmur lay in bed beside…

Fury washed over her. “How the hell did you get that picture? What right did you have to invade our privacy?”

“Forget the damn picture. Listen to the music, Ivy.” Sparkle’s voice had taken on an unaccustomed hardness.

Ivy opened her mouth to blast Sparkle some more, but then she heard it.
The music
. No violence lurked in the clear, pure notes. No deadly strands reached out to kill. Death no longer lived in it.

“When? I don’t remember…”

“After he made love with you.” Sparkle leaned forward, her eyes gleaming. “He didn’t share it with you, probably didn’t even realize what he was creating. This is important, Ivy.
You. Changed. Him.
”

Ivy merely stared. Sparkle had to be wrong.

“What he feels for you, the magic that happens when you’re together, snapped the cord connecting him to his master. He has a chance for freedom now, if…” Sparkle frowned.

Ganymede was finally paying attention.
“If he can survive.”

“Survive what?” Ivy was frantic now.

“His master will come for him.”
Ganymede sounded matter-of-fact.

“Aren’t you going to help him?”

Ganymede gave a feline snort.
“Hey, I have enough to do getting ready for the damn faery host. He’ll deal.”
He batted at the cookie bag.
“Or not.”

Ivy stared at the screen. It had faded to black, the music ended, the man gone. “Why did you do this?”

Sparkle shrugged. “You needed to know. So I showed you.” She twirled a strand of hair around her finger and looked thoughtful. “We all change, even those of us who’ve existed beyond the few pitiful years humans have.
I’ve
changed. According to my job description, my only obligation was to bring you together, make sure you had incredible sex, and then insert some horrific detail that would keep you apart forever. Simple. Clean.”

“Yes, well, that first scene from your music video qualified as a horrific detail.”

Sparkle looked intrigued. “Did it work?”

Ivy didn’t have to think about her answer. “No.”

“I suppose I should’ve tried harder.” She didn’t sound upset. “Anyway, I felt a deep compulsion to make you understand what you’d given him. So I guess I was actually working against myself. It makes me wonder—about my evolution as a cosmic being, as a…” She glanced down. “How the hell did I get a scuff mark on my shoe?”

Ganymede finally abandoned the empty cookie bag.
“We’ll leave you to think about things. Oh, and
I
got the shot of Murmur crawling onto the mortal plane. One of my best images.”

“How?” The question multiplied in overlapping layers of conflict, none of which had anything to do with Ganymede’s statement. How had Murmur become so important to her in so short a time? How could she even consider a future with a demon? How did he feel about her for the long term? Wait, make that the short term, because her life was merely a blink compared to his. How, how, how into infinity, with no real answers.

“I was there. I saw. I remembered. And when my cuddlebug needed a money shot, I pulled it from my memory and laid it out on the screen.”
His voice was smug.
“Don’t ask. It’s a secret process.”
He leaped from the table and headed for the door.

Sparkle uncrossed her long legs and stood. “I’d suggest you watch the video again once we’re gone. The message will take a while to sink in.”

Secret.
All Ivy heard was that one word of Ganymede’s. “Hold it right there, people.”

They paused to stare at her.

“Who took the picture of Murmur and me? That was slimy and low and…” She couldn’t think of a word that would live up to her fury. “You invaded our personal space.” She glared at Sparkle.

Sparkle simply pointed at Ganymede.

Ganymede’s laughter was a rumble of wicked enjoyment.
“I didn’t have to be in the room with you. I’m the king of remote viewing. You can’t hide from me. Ever. Remember that.”
Then he was gone, tail waving a feline question mark.

She felt the virtual tape keeping her lids open ripped away. It hurt. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. Then she opened them.

Ivy looked at the TV.

She reached for the remote.

15

Murmur stared at his watch and then scanned the hotel lobby. No Klepoth. It was already dark outside. He should have been home from school before this.

What the hell was a millennia-old demon doing sitting in a high school classroom anyway? Murmur hoped his teachers had enough sense not to fail him. Schools cost money to replace.

Just when Murmur had finally decided to call Klepoth, Ivy and Zane walked across the lobby. They didn’t see him. She was looking up at the sorcerer and laughing. Murmur watched as they entered the restaurant.

He didn’t even try to rein in his jealousy. His music stirred, and he took the mental image of him squashing Zane like a bug for a trial run.

What were they talking about? Was Zane teaching her how to keep nosy demons out of her mind while they shared a drink? Or was the sorcerer working his magic on her over a rib eye, baked potato, and salad? Murmur didn’t dare think about dessert, or he’d lose it.

Thankfully, he spotted Klepoth heading his way. He strode to meet him. “Let’s get out of here. I need a walk on the beach.”

Klepoth looked puzzled, but didn’t ask any questions.

Once they reached the edge of the water, Murmur relaxed the rigid control he’d held on his music. No sorcerers would die tonight. Or at least not for the next half hour. All bets were off after that.

“Where were you?” Murmur couldn’t take his anger out on Zane, so Klepoth became his target. “I wouldn’t want a mere life-or-eternal-torture battle with our master and his legions to get in the way of your extracurricular activities.”

Klepoth shrugged off Murmur’s shitty attitude. “After school, Kellen and I hung with some guys for a while. Shot some hoops.”

“The Master could show up tonight, and you were playing basketball? You have to be kidding.” Murmur felt as though he’d explode with his need to pound someone into dust. A nasty little tune featuring a banjo and a scratchy violin played in his head.

The other demon shrugged. “Who knows if we’ll survive this? In case we don’t, I want to go out with a few good memories.”

Murmur had been readying another shot at Klepoth, but the demon’s comment stopped him. He couldn’t argue with Klepoth’s logic.

Murmur
hadn’t
been storing up good memories. After telling Ivy and Kellen about Asima’s willingness to be part of Bain’s plan, he’d purposely avoided Ivy for the last three days. She didn’t need to be mixed up in their confrontation with the Master. Murmur couldn’t take the chance that merely being with him might put her in danger.

Besides, she needed time away from him to decide if she could look past his devious and deceptive nature. Hey, even he didn’t like himself very much right now. He hoped the old leopard-changing-its-spots thing wasn’t true.

But the separation had turned him into a bad-tempered bastard. Fine, so he hadn’t been Mr. Sunshine before this happened. He thought of Ivy sitting in the restaurant with Zane and growled low in his throat.

His hair whipped in the wind blowing off the Gulf. Impatiently, Murmur pushed it away from his face. “Our legions are ready. They’ll emerge from the portals as soon as the Master shows.”

Klepoth had found a spot on the west end of Galveston Island that was almost remote enough for a demon battle.

Murmur glanced up at the dark clouds scudding across the evening sky. The surf churned as the wind whistled around them. Distant thunder rumbled. A storm was coming. “He’ll be here tonight.” The storm would cloak them from human eyes. “He’ll wait until the storm breaks for maximum effect.” Maybe he was even causing the storm. The Master’s power was the big variable in the mix. Murmur
thought
he knew the extent of his strength, but he couldn’t be one hundred percent positive. He just hoped that one unknown wouldn’t destroy them.

“Yeah. I think you’re right.” Klepoth was doing a good job of hiding his fear. “Let’s get moving.”

The Master would sense where they were, and Murmur didn’t want that to be at the castle.

Silently, they walked back to the castle’s parking lot. No need to take anything with them. If they won, they’d be back. And if they lost? Well, the Master wouldn’t allow them any mementoes from their past while he tortured them. Murmur did keep one thing, though. Even the Master couldn’t touch the image of Ivy he carried in his mind.

Silently, they climbed into Murmur’s car. And silently, they drove to what might be their last night on the mortal plane. Murmur hated the time it took to drive, but they had to conserve every bit of energy for the battle, hence the car.

All the way out to the west end of the island, Murmur thought about what he should have said to Ivy. It might not have mattered to her, but it would have made him feel a lot better.

What could he have said, though? “Let me take you away from everything you know, and I’ll give you a life filled with demonic thrills?” Or maybe she’d fall for, “I love you. Let me light your fire.” Okay, so she might be a little leery about lighting any fires around a demon. Humans tended to cling to their myths and stereotypes.

Love.
He’d thought the word, but he didn’t know if he believed in it. Demons didn’t love. But this deep need, this
yearning
—jeez, that was a corny word—sure felt a lot like how humans had described the emotion. No one had told him how much it would hurt, though.

“We’re here.” Murmur pulled the car off the road and got out. Klepoth joined him. The storm was whipping itself into a frenzy. Jagged streaks of lightning lit the night sky. Perfect.

“We’ve done all we can. We’ve positioned our portals opposite each other.” Murmur tried to think if they’d missed anything.

“He’s in for a surprise.” Klepoth’s smile was a slash of white in the darkness. “He thinks only arch demons can open portals. No way will he believe how powerful we are until we kick his ass.”

Murmur nodded. Kicking ass would be a good thing. “If we’re really lucky, we’ll trap him between us. While the legions are fighting, we’ll take him down.” Murmur only hoped they were as powerful as they believed they were. And that Klepoth had been right when he said the Master would be weakened for a while after crossing over onto the mortal plane. They needed all the breaks they could catch.

Klepoth cocked his head, listening. “The Master comes.”

Murmur didn’t doubt Klepoth’s sensitivity to demonic vibrations. “Good luck.” He paused, unwilling to say what needed saying. “Thanks for watching Kellen and for sticking with me on this.”

Klepoth grinned. “No problem. Friends help friends.”

Murmur frowned. Klepoth didn’t have any problem saying the “F” word. He forced a smile. “Yeah. Friends.” Maybe the word would get easier with more use. Here was hoping he got a chance to test his theory.

He took a deep breath and released his true demon, not the weak-ass phony one he showed the human world. He called up his death music, felt it coil and writhe in him, clawing its way from the dark place he kept it prisoner most of the time. If Ivy saw him now, she’d run. Tonight he’d be the soulless killer all humans feared—merciless, savage, and a hell-spawn nightmare.

Finally, the storm broke. Lightning lit up the sky, and thunder crashed. Wind-driven rain lashed them. And the sound of pounding surf and howling wind made a fitting entrance for the Master.

A yawning black hole opened in the night sky, through which poured hundreds of demons mounted on grotesque creatures conceived in the depths of the Underworld. And at their head rode the Master.

Even as Murmur focused his power and ripped open his portal, he saw Klepoth doing the same. Within seconds, their legions burst through the openings to fling themselves at the enemy.

The demon battle blacked out the sky—deadly, vicious, and silent. No sound would wake the sleeping humans on the island. And more demons would spew through the portals to replace the fallen ones. The fight would continue until one of the leaders fell.