Demon Bait: Children of the Undying, Book 1 (3 page)

“Asha.” Relief warred with nervousness. “We’re in the east-sector lounge. Did you make it out of the control room?”

“Christian wouldn’t leave, and I couldn’t leave him there alone.” Asha grabbed both of Marci’s hands, oblivious to Gabe’s presence. “But we’ll be fine. We’re locked down, and there are supplies.”

“What about the ADS?” It didn’t seem right not to ask. Its restoration could save them all, but it would also put Gabe in horrible pain.

Asha shook her head. “Not the external, and not in the network. Christian is trying to talk Nicollet into a full network reboot.”

Marci went cold. A reboot could restore the ADS, but they’d have to take the network offline for at least half a day. “Are they going for it?”

“I think so.” Asha’s gaze finally slid to Gabe, who still hovered just to their right. She lowered her voice and coaxed Marci a step away from him. “You’re not… You said
we
. Are you trapped somewhere with him?”

If she tried to explain, Gabe wouldn’t be the only one in trouble. “Not trapped,” she lied. “I stayed with him because he didn’t know what was going on. Everything’s fine.” Her friend shot him another furtive look, one that was far from approving. Appreciation of his looks apparently didn’t extend to trusting him with Marci’s safety. “If they reboot the network, you’ll be cut off. You won’t be able to get help if something happens.”

She’d already considered that, but there was little to be done. “Asha, it’s
fine
. Trust me.”

“I trust you. I don’t trust him.”

“We’re in lockdown. It’s too late now to hole up somewhere else.” Asha blew out a frustrated breath as her fingers tightened around Marci’s. “I know. I just…I’m worried. About you, about all of us.”

“So am I.” Marci grasped her shoulders for a moment before pulling her into a quick hug. “If they greenlight a reboot, be careful up there.”

“I’ll be too busy to think about it,” Asha whispered. “And I’ve got Christian with me. He’s pretty badass, for a tech-admin.”

“If anyone can get us through it, it’s you two.”

“When will you—”

The thunderous blare of an alarm cut her off. Gabe jerked in surprise and lunged toward Marci, almost wrapping his body around hers as he crowded close.

“It’s an early warning,” she explained automatically. “Asha—” But her friend had disappeared, undoubtedly yanked out of the network as soon as Christian had sounded the alarm.

Marci touched Gabe’s shoulder. “Time to drop out before it boots us. You don’t want that.” He stared at her for a brief moment and closed his eyes, his face screwing up in an expression of desperate concentration. Then he vanished.

Marci hesitated before following. There went the possibility of hiding out in the local network, where she could keep an eye on Gabe without having to worry about what he could do if he got his hands on her.

Now, because of the reboot, she had no choice.

She closed her eyes and dropped out, mostly to avoid the gut-churning disorientation that came with being forced from the network.

Gabe was still seated on the couch, his long legs sprawled out in front of him. “What was that?” Marci rubbed her hands over her face. “They’re shutting down the local network and restarting it, hoping that’ll fix the ADS.”

“How long does that take?”

“Twelve hours, minimum.”

“And after that? Your city shows up?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.” It could take days yet for Nicollet to mount a response, but she found herself holding that information close. “We just have to get through it.”

“Mmm.” Gabe leaned forward, the movement fluid. Effortless. “When they come, will you go back to hiding and hoping no one ever finds out what you are?”

“If I can.” If they didn’t run down everyone’s DNA and genealogy, just to be safe.

His eyes narrowed. He dropped his elbows to his knees and laced his fingers together, studying her the same way she’d consider a tricky bit of code. “Why?”

“What do you mean, why?”

“Why would you stay here, where you have to be afraid?”

“Why wouldn’t I run off to Rochester, you mean?” Marci shook her head. “I’d have to give up everything I know. That’s not something I’m prepared to do unless I have no other choice.”

“I see.” He tilted his head. “Is it that good here?”

“How am I supposed to answer that?” Marci looked away. “I don’t know. It’s all right, better than a lot of places. Is it so great where
you
live?”

“For a human? Maybe not. For someone like us? Hell yeah, because no one’s going to drag me out of my bed in the middle of the night and throw me to the demons.”
For a human.
Yet another reminder that, try as she might to blend in, she
wasn’t
one of them. She wasn’t like Asha or any of the other humans huddled in their rooms, waiting for the all-clear from Nicollet.

And he knew it.

She cleared her throat. “They haven’t thrown me to the demons.”

“No, not literally.” He grinned suddenly. “Sorry, I’m being an ass. And I’m doing it because I think you’re going to feel a whole lot better about being trapped in here with me if you’re good and well pissed off.”

Marci pasted on her sweetest smile. “Or I’ll be forced to murder you in your sleep just to get a little peace.”

Gabe’s grin turned into one of his too-perfect smiles, a suggestive one that lit up his eyes and whispered of dirty things done in the dark. “Oh, I wouldn’t. Trying to murder a halfblood in his bed is flirting.”

She hadn’t felt this pull during their scant few minutes inside the network, so it really was a shame she couldn’t escape to the relative safety of virtual reality. Every snappy rejoinder that came to mind tripped up on her tongue, and it was all she could do not to stammer.

“You’re not being fair,” she whispered when she could finally speak. “You have me at a disadvantage and you know it.”

“Damn.” The pressure vanished so suddenly she thought her ears might pop, and he looked honestly contrite. “I’m not trying to lean on you.”

Marci shivered and rubbed her hands over her upper arms. “It happens when you’re not even thinking about it?”

“Not always. Only when…” He settled back against the couch and shook his head. “I can stop it. I will.”

What was he hiding? “Only when what?”

“It happens when I’m talking to someone I find interesting.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “It’s usually not a big deal. Most people don’t react the way you do, but you’re…not most people.” Pressing him for anything more personal would be trouble. “How do most people react?”

“However they want. The magic only hits summoners.” Gabe rocked to his feet and nodded toward the room with the cots. “I just need a little time to lock it down. The ADS was screwing me all to hell until a half hour ago, so I’m not on top of my game.”

“Okay.” Marci looked around, her gaze lighting on the supplies on the table. “We should probably eat something soon, whether we want to or not.”

“You eat,” he urged, circling around her in a wide arc. “I’ll be having a chat with the demon within.” It sounded ominous, but if it meant she didn’t swoon every time she looked into his eyes, she’d take it. “Gabe?”

He paused just short of the door. “Yeah?”

“Thank you. For not—not…” Everything she thought about saying seemed wrong. “Thanks, that’s all.”

His hands fisted at his sides. Something vicious stirred behind his eyes, but he did nothing more than nod shortly before turning to stride away.

Though Marci knew he wasn’t angry at her, she still bit her lip and sighed. If only he hadn’t insisted on keeping her with him, she wouldn’t have to navigate the tricky differences between them.

“It’s your own fault, Gabe,” she grumbled as she began to sort through the supplies. “Your own
damn
fault. Remember that, Mr. Blue Eyes.”

He should remember…and she shouldn’t forget.

Thank you. For not—

Gabe hissed out a breath and clenched his fists until his fingers ached. The pain didn’t help him concentrate, but the act of digging his fingernails into his palms gave him something to do other than punch holes in the wall.

Thank you.

What the hell sort of world had the humans of Nicollet built for themselves? A world where women thanked men for not raping their minds, as if restraint was a favor instead of a goddamned expectation?

The sanctimonious bastards lived in the pretty little underground cities they’d built while everyone else had been fighting a war. His
mother
had been fighting that war, battling on the front lines as a young soldier eager to defend her country while the generals retreated to the safety of virtual reality. No blood there, no chance of capture. And when the demons razed Minneapolis, just like they’d leveled every other city in the country…

Well. There’d been plenty of room for menial workers in their new civilizations—as long as they were pure. The generals had no compassion for the broken and the wounded. No compassion for anyone who wasn’t a safe little worker, content to accept scraps of a virtual life in exchange for endless work with little reward.

And Marci wanted to
stay
here.

Thank—

Gabe snarled and rocked to his feet. He’d had a quiet chat with his darker nature, but it hadn’t been pleasant. Proclivities he couldn’t control recognized the feel of summoner blood, and the need to possess throbbed with every beat of his heart.

Summoner. An antiquated word for a power that no longer existed. Before the Fall, summoners had been able to control the demons they called forth from whatever world they inhabited. But now demons walked the earth, and
they
had the power.

He had the power. Just a little lean, a subtle push, and he could flip her. Tangle his magic with hers, invade the spaces in her aura until she bent to his will. She’d be soft clay in his hands, pliable and sweet, and he could edge her around to his way of thinking with nothing but a whisper.

Wrong. So very, very wrong. In Rochester, a halfblood who got caught leaning would find himself facing exile—or execution. Free will was not something Dominic Wetzel played around with, not even in service of the greater good.

Maybe not even when a stubborn summoner was going to end up getting herself killed—or worse—because she was too afraid to acknowledge how real the danger was. Gabe had seen summoners who’d been thrown to the mercy of the demons. He’d seen the husks—slack-eyed, vacant bodies with nothing inside. A demon could slip beneath a person’s skin and pop his spirit free, but summoners were so easy, so fragile… Sometimes their spirits could be called back, but the trauma never faded.

Too easy to imagine Marci’s sweet face empty of emotion. Her beauty was the sneaky sort, the kind you might never notice when she sat quietly. The way she faded into the background had to be intentional.

A defense mechanism, her way of hiding. Anger brought out her passion, the spark she must have worked so hard to crush.

He had twelve hours to fan that spark into flames. And if he couldn’t…

Well. She could safely hate him for the rest of her days. At least in Rochester, those days wouldn’t be numbered.

A soft knock interrupted his thoughts. “Gabe?”

Breathing deep, he tightened his grip on control and relaxed his hands, hoping the rest of him would follow. “Come on in.”

Marci ducked her head inside. “I threw some stuff together for dinner, if you’re hungry.” Feeding one kind of hunger might distract him from another. “Sure. Food’s good.” She let the door swing open. “The lounge doesn’t have a full kitchen, but some of the rations are self-heating. It won’t be gourmet, but it’s…” She stopped and squeezed her eyes shut. “I should still be so mad at you. You kept me here when I wanted to leave and that’s
not okay
.” No, it hadn’t been, but in the moment he literally could not have stopped himself. “So why aren’t you?”

“I don’t know.” Her shoulder hit the wall, and she leaned there and regarded him thoughtfully. “I guess…because it would be a stupid way to hurt someone, if that was what you really wanted to do.”

“Is that so?” The innocence of the statement scraped at him, so much that he prodded at her. “You can’t think of any unsavory reasons why a man might like to have a pretty woman trapped at his mercy for a few days?”

“Sure, but what would you have to gain by pretending?” She shrugged. “We’re locked in. You could just take what you wanted now.”

Not innocent, then. Practical, and ruthlessly so. “I’m not going to take anything. I never do.”

“Because you don’t have to.” It seemed more like an observation than an accusation. “Vegetable stew?”

“Better than what I’ve been eating lately.”

Marci had already set out mugs and spoons, and she took a seat at the small round table. “You can handle breakfast in the morning, if you want. After that, the local should be back online.” He considered the four chairs and took the one opposite hers. The stew smelled edible enough—better than the rations in his pack, or the rough camp food he’d left in his bolthole down the road. The equipment he’d need to boost a signal to Rochester’s network was there, too, leaving him well and truly cut off until Trip figured out he was missing and found a way to reach out.

Twelve hours, at least. Probably twenty-four, since he wasn’t always prompt with his check-ins. Once Marci was asleep, he could start scoping out a way to break out of the room, because he sure as hell wasn’t going to be waiting for the soldiers from Nicollet.

She might be able to help him, even if she didn’t know it. “You were up in the control room. Is that where you work?”

“Usually.” She sipped her water. “It’s mostly network maintenance, nothing too difficult.”

“So you’re a techie?”

“Depends on your definition of the word. I do some programming, VR and otherwise, but I don’t handle hardware.”

Every time she swallowed, his gaze drifted to her throat. “I’m shit with all of it. I can barely operate a tablet.”

Marci laughed a little. “I think you’re exaggerating.” This time he held back the power and only gave her the charm of a smile. “I’m better at mechanical things. Working with my hands.”