Darkness Taunts (38 page)

“What’s going to happen to him?”

He gave me a wan smile. “That is not for you to worry about.”

Remiel stood and faced Lucas. “Under the unusual circumstances surrounding the failure of your duty, I’ll allow others to decide your fate.”

A flick of his wrist and chains similar to the ones Zoe had worn appeared on Lucas. It killed me to see him bound like that. “Until then, you’ll spend your time in purgatory. I’m sure your usual cell has been kept ready for you.”

“No, wait.” I stood up. “How can you punish him when there’s no way he could defeat that demon?”

Remiel glanced at me. “There are always choices, Melena. His priority should have been you.”

“But I chose to stay and help here. That’s not his fault.”

“As you’ve noted to yourself in the past, life isn’t fair.”

I tried to run up and stop him, but he grabbed Lucas before I could get to him. His massive white wings flapped hard, taking them away into the sky. I watched until there was nothing left to see.

Micah put a hand on my shoulder. “We must go, Melena. There is nothing left that we can do here.”

His voice held a hint of the sadness I felt. “What will they do to him?”

“I don’t know. Do you feel his mark on you now?” he asked.

I furrowed my brows and searched for it. My senses didn’t pick it up the way they did everything else, but I realized it was there. Like the claiming everyone had described. It had a strong signature and just a tinge of Lucas was in it, though you’d have to have known him well to recognize it.

“I feel it. Why am I able to now when I couldn’t before?”

“You have his blood in you now. We took the chance because we didn’t believe vampire blood would be enough to bring you back. It altered you just enough that you’ll always be able to feel it so long as he lives. If that changes, you must let me know.”

That was a small comfort. I stared up at the sky for a minute before letting Micah guide me back to the SUV. We found Fallon and Sayer waiting for us there. They gave us questioning looks, but neither of us had anything to say. We’d been given a reprieve, but it was a tenuous one.

I sat in the snow behind my house, drawing. It didn’t feel as cold as it used to. That was the only thing I’d noticed that was different about me since drinking Lucas’ blood. I tried not to think about him too much. Micah said chances were I probably wouldn’t see him again, but every day I woke up and checked to see if the claiming mark was there. It’d been two weeks and I still felt it.

Emily worried about me. I cleaned the house every day until it practically sparkled and tried to improve my cooking skills. The quality of my food hadn’t improved so far, but maybe I’d get it figured out with more practice. Anything that could help pass the time. I hated sitting still too long without anything to do. It made me think of him. We’d barely begun to accept each other and heaven took him away from me.

The other day the song “Angel” by Amanda Perez came on the radio. I broke down and had to shut it off. I even called the station and told them they shouldn’t play it again. They laughed at me and thought I was joking.

My head turned in the direction of the house. I sensed Kristen coming down the road. What was she doing here? She had something with her, though it wasn’t anything I’d sensed before. We hadn’t talked since The Day. She’d lost her master and I’d lost the one man I’d ever cared about. We’d gotten rid of the demons—with the help of an angel I now hated—but the price had been too high. I’d thought saving Aniya had cost a lot, but I was wrong. No matter how bad you think life is, it can get worse. There is always one more thing that can be taken from you.

Micah admitted to me after we left the battlefield that he’d only killed two of the three sensors he’d gone after. The one who got away was my father. Jerome was still out there somewhere. Maybe I’d go find him and put a bullet in his head. Not because it would make me feel better, but because he deserved it. Maybe one day the pain would go away. I knew when it did, though, that I wouldn’t be me anymore. I’d have turned into something else.

Kristen walked up to me, her feet crunching in the snow.

“Melena, aren’t you cold out here? It’s negative twenty degrees.”

She was used to Juneau. I was sure the Fairbanks weather didn’t appeal to her too much.

I looked up at her and shrugged. “It’s not so bad.”

“You’re going to get pneumonia,” she said.

“I doubt it. I haven’t gotten sick from doing it yet.”

“You can’t do this to yourself,” she said. “I miss them too.”

The pencil in my hand stopped moving. I hadn’t even noticed I’d still been drawing. A fully formed tree with all the details down to the edges of the bark appeared on my page. It was probably the best sketch I’d done yet of the stupid thing.

“I don’t want to talk about,” I said.

“I brought something for you. Whether you want it or not, it’s yours. Lucas and Aeson arranged it when they first contacted you and it arrived yesterday. It’s paid for and too late to give back.”

That was a mouthful for not saying what this thing was. Couldn’t she have left off their names? I didn’t even like hearing them. It made me remember things that were best left forgotten.

“What is it?” I asked.

“You’ll have to come inside and see.”

“Fine.” I begrudgingly stood up. I couldn’t admit—even to myself—that I wondered what Lucas and Aeson could have possibly gotten me.

We walked into the house together and I found Emily petting what looked like a lynx, except my senses didn’t pick up on animals and I could definitely detect this one. It was orangish-brown with black spots on its fur. I should have been sneezing by now.

“Why would they get me a cat knowing I’m allergic?” I asked.

She smiled. “This one is different. She’s hypoallergenic, or rather, she doesn’t produce the dander that would bother you.”

“She’s a whole lot more than hypoallergenic. She’s supernatural,” I said.

“Yeah,” Kristen admitted. “I’d never seen one of these before moving to Aeson’s. They are shape-shifting animals the fae breed up in their cities. He and Lucas paid a fortune to get her for you. She can turn into any breed of cat.”

My lips twitched. “They spent a fortune on a joke.”

“I don’t think you understand,” she said. I could tell she was getting frustrated with me. “She’s spent the first five years of her life being trained, and she’s just now old enough to bond with someone. They sent one of your shirts with your scent on it to the breeder so she could sleep with it for a few weeks before coming here. So long as you keep trying to bond with her, she’ll become loyal to you. She can fight in most of her forms and can understand most commands.”

“We’ll see.” I kneeled down and looked at the cat. “Come here.”

She left Emily and came straight to me. I cautiously allowed my hand to touch her fur. It was the first time in my life I hadn’t had an allergy attack while touching a cat. The shape-shifter rubbed my hand and purred. Curiosity got the better of me.

“Turn into a panther.”

We all jumped when the shape-shifter stretched out and turned into a large panther in the middle of my living room floor. She nudged my hand again, wanting to be petted. I rubbed her fur and reveled in the feel of it. Maybe I’d keep her.

“What’s her name?” I asked.

“She doesn’t have one. It’s up to you to decide.”

“I’ll figure something out. Is there an Idiot’s Guide or something for this thing?”

“Oh, yeah. Glad you asked.” She went over to my dining room table and picked up a big book. “You’re supposed to read over this so you can know how to deal with her.”

Great. Now I had something else to keep me busy. I was still half-tempted not to take her. She’d be a reminder every time I looked at her, but there was something about the shape-shifter that appealed to me. Maybe I’d give her a chance.

Instead of making the traditional post high school move and attending college, Susan joined the U.S. Army. She spent her eighteenth birthday in the gas chamber — an experience she is sure is best left for criminals. For eleven years she served first as a human resources specialist and later as an Arabic linguist (mostly in Airborne units). Though all her duty assignments were stateside, she did make two deployments to Iraq where her language skills were put to regular use.

After leaving the service in 2009, Susan returned to school to study history with a focus on the Middle East. She no longer finds many opportunities to test her fighting abilities in real life, unless her husband is demanding she cook him a real meal (macaroni and cheese apparently doesn’t count), but she’s found a new outlet in writing urban fantasy heroines who can.

For more information visit:

www.darknesshaunts.com

You may also find her at:

Twitter- @
susan_illene

Facebook-
www.facebook.com/SusanIllene1

Goodreads-
www.goodreads.com/author/show/6889690.Susan_Illene

I’m going to keep this brief because I haven’t slept for twenty-seven hours.  When I’m tired I tend to say inane things, which would be bad in acknowledgments.  So I’ll just say thanks to all my family, who have been really supportive.  To my husband, who didn’t mind me not cooking for the last couple of weeks before releasing this novel.  Okay, he did mind, but like any good man he learned to deal with it after I yelled at him for disturbing me enough times. 

Also, to my Dad for helping me with online matters such as my author website and to my grandfather for listening to me talk about my book plot.  He even helps though he isn’t quite sure about me writing paranormal/fantasy.  An important twist in this novel came about while chatting with him.  I also tell him all the spoilers for future books because I know he’ll never read them anyway.

To my online community of friends who have been awesomely supportive.  There are many beta readers and proofreaders who deserve a shout out, but I want to give the biggest one to Mary who so selflessly gave up her time to check over my MS at the last minute.  Someday I’ll find a way to make it up to her.  Angela has also been a big help in more ways than I can describe for helping walk me through the publishing process.  There are many more, but my eyes are starting to droop and I’m afraid this is going to go on sounding like nonsense.

One last shout out for the fans before I go.  There are some amazing ones who were very supportive and encouraging.  If you are wondering who they are, just see my Facebook page.  Much love to you guys.

Oh, and my cat, who never fails to keep me company while I write and who likes to walk all over my keyboard.  Thanks, Manfusha, for your unswerving loyalty and the scratch you put on my hand the other day.

Read on for an excerpt from

A

DEMON

BOUND

BY DEBRA DUNBAR

(The first novel in her Imp Series)

1

I parked down the street from the bail bond office and pretended to fuss with some papers on the passenger seat as I watched two boys race toward me out of the corner of my eye. They were hauling ass, and one darted across traffic in a daring effort to cut the other off.

“Wait for it, wait for it,” I muttered as they sped toward the car.

One, two, three, open
. I flung the car door out to its full width and a wave of satisfaction rolled through me as I heard a thump and felt the door vibrate against my hand. The boy toward the outside had managed to dive out of the way, missing the door by inches and rolling expertly as he landed on the ground. The inside boy wasn’t so lucky. He’d bounced off the door with the thump I had felt and hit the cement sidewalk with a meaty thwack.

“Yeah,” yelled the outside boy as he hopped to his feet. He punctuated the word with an exuberant fist pump. I got out of the car and gave him a high five.

“All yours, Roberto,” I told him.

I paid a twenty to any kid who watched my car while I took care of business. That normally wouldn’t have been a good deal. A Corvette in this neighborhood would attract a lot of attention, and a kid watching it wouldn’t necessarily deter theft. But my car was well known. All the kid needed to do was inform anyone looking to lift the tires that this was my vehicle, and let me know if anyone was stupid enough to do so anyway. Well worth the twenty.

I turned to the other kid, who was staggering to his feet from the pavement and wiping a bloody nose.

“Maybe next time, Dante,” I said. He nodded, pinching the bridge of his nose and staggered off.

I had a moment of panic as I shut the car door and thought that Dante may have dented it. Humans were soft and squishy, but he’d hit with a good bit of force. I lucked out this time, though. No dent, just a bit of blood and snot that I wiped off with the side of my arm. Fuck! That was close. I don’t always think things through before I do them, and it would have really sucked if he’d damaged my car.

“Are you going to evict Old Man Larson, Ma’am?” Roberto asked me.

“Nope, just collecting rents,” I replied.

Most people would rather have been home by the pool with a cold beer on a hot day like today, but I actually liked collecting rents. I’d spent the morning taking cash from those tenants who didn’t trust the mail system, or who found it impossible to obtain a checking account. This was my last visit of the day with one particular tenant who needed an in-person, see-the-light kind of call.

I’m a slum lord. Commercial, residential, it doesn’t matter as long as the building is cheap, squeaks by code, and I can rent it. About seventy percent of my tenants pay promptly. I’ve been told that’s an incredible percentage with these types of properties. The others shove cash-stuffed envelopes at me as soon as I ring the bell.

I’m also a demon, which is probably why I have such a high compliance rate on my rent collections. We demons usually live in another realm and pop over here to vacation. Low ranking demons save for centuries to pay someone for safe passage. Ones with status in the hierarchy come over whenever they feel like it. Of course, it is still risky trying to get through the gates undetected, and to hustle your ass back before your fun activities bring death down on your head. The more often you come over, the greater the chance is that you’ll be caught and killed by the angels.