Demon Chained (Shadowfae Chronicles) (10 page)

"Her name, fairy." Shazad slams ice through the glass with a crunch of long brown fingers. "Or
you
die."

Frost crackles into Javier's skin like icy blue veins, and when he screams, I scream too, banging my iron-bound wrists against the stone wall until blood stings hot. He loves me. He'll die protecting me. I can't let that happen.

"Don't!" Tears spill onto my dress. My dirty black hair flies around my head as I struggle, spit drooling on my chin. "Please, let him be— ahk!" My words bite off in another yell as Javier's wing membranes crack under the stress. He's crumbling. Falling apart. In a few seconds, he'll be dust and snowflakes. "Enough, sorcerer! You win. I'll tell you. But you have to promise to let him live . . ."

But Javier gasps out a word, and my heart stops.

Shazad leans closer, black eyes afire with greed. "Again?"

Javier grits crackling teeth. "Her name is Jewel. Take her. Just let me go."

Shazad stops choking me, his invisible fist vanishing like a cruel ghost. But I still can't breathe. My lungs are slashed open, pierced like dead flesh by the shards of my broken heart.

Javier betrayed me. Dumped me. Gave me up to save himself.

"Thank you." Shazad grins, little green fangs glinting, and picks up my lamp. It's tiny in his massive hands, just a silly glittering toy. He pops the lid off. "Jewel," he murmurs, and ancient black compulsion seizes my blood. Terror snags my skin with sharp hooks, pulling tight, but struggle as I might I can't break free.

With a mocking bow, Shazad hands me his staff. "Take this, Jewel," he orders, his smile twisting, "and kill him."

For a moment, silence. And then Javier laughs. Not his usual laugh, light and glimmering with sparks. It's sharp, bloodstained, jagged with irony.

My mouth hangs open, bereft of words or air. I want to disappear. I want to smoke into my lamp forever, open a chasm beneath my feet and fall into hell. I want to run, scream, beat my brains out against the wall, anything but succumb to this foul sorcerer's will that's creeping in my veins like hellflame.

But all I can do is obey.

Numbly, I grip his staff in both hands. My palms freeze to the glass. Magic courses through me, stinging like cold poison, and I scream and writhe but I can't stop what's happening.

The frigid air sparkles, frost crackling up the walls. Javier jerks, helpless. One crystalline wing snaps off and smashes on the stone. Cracks multiply and spread over his body like a broken statue, and chunks of frozen fairy flesh break off and shatter to dust.

I scream again, powerless. I don't want to see. I squeeze my eyes shut, but somehow the image is still there. Ice spears into Javier, freezing blue veins standing out on his muscles. His beautiful hair stiffens with frost and breaks off in chunks. Hunks of skin crack off his body like eggshell to reveal the straining meat beneath. His teeth split and shatter. His eyeballs swell with ice and explode, raining black shards over me, more and more, covering my skin like gnats, biting, chewing . . .

***

"Jewel . . ."

I awoke shrieking, chilly sweat crinkling my skin. My name groaned in my head again, echoing deep, a ragged yell full of desperation and sorrow. My heartbeat scrabbled like a trapped rat. It was all wrong. Javier didn't scream my name at the end. He said nothing to me.

This voice belonged to someone else.

Dim light striped Luke's bed, moonlight washing golden through the dusty window. He was gone, just as I'd instructed. I was alone. I dragged the caramel-brown sheet around my breasts and scrambled out of bed. No way was this voice an accident.

I stumbled through the living room, the sheet trailing behind me, plastic boxes scattering in my wake. My bare feet skidded on the kitchen lino, and I nearly fell. Relax, Jewel. It can't be gone. It's safe. The only one who could've taken it was Luke, and he was too dumb and pretty and nice to want you.

Holding my breath, I leaned over and tugged the cupboard open.

My guts twisted, burning bile flowing into my mouth.

No. God, no.

My pulse thundered, accusing. I fell to my knees and scrabbled in the clanging frypans, searching, my fingers aching with urgency. Nothing. It's not there. It's gone.

I banged my forehead into the painted plywood and screamed, horror raw and bloody in my throat. I clenched my teeth, shaking. I wanted to lie on the floor and shriek, kick my legs like a turned turtle, run in circles and tear my hair out.

Don't smoke, Jewel. Stay solid. Vanish now and you'll suck straight into that lamp, and this time you might never come out. Just thank your stars Luke doesn't know your name or you'd already be there in front of him.

How could I be so stupid, to believe for a second that I was safe? To imagine that anyone was harmless?

I crunched my nails into my palms, trying to think clearly. Luke watched me, waited till I slept and stole my lamp. The sly little bastard.

I didn't want to be owned. I didn't want to be helpless. I had to find him. I had to get it back. I had to.

I scrambled to the door and yanked it open. Corridor empty. I doubled over the railing, dizzy, but the stairwell was empty too. I ran back inside to the dusty window, pressing my nose against it, trying to peer out into the darkened street. No one.

I took another deep breath, calming. Okay. Maybe it wasn't so bad. Maybe he was just a petty thief, he noticed where I hid the bag and took it for the money. Maybe taking the lamp was just an accident.

Sure. That's why disembodied voices screamed my name.

No, somehow he'd found out what I was. But I hadn't smoked or wished or shown him my secrets. Hadn't even told him my real name. Only one person tonight had noticed anything, and that person wasn't Luke.

I whirled, dropping the sheet, and ran to fumble on the bedroom floor for my dress. I dragged the black nylon over my head, static crackling, and tugged it down, wriggling my butt to get it over my hips. I scraped my hair down, my pulse swift but steady now. Back to the club for me, to find a pretty plum-skinned fairy whose breath turned my hand to smoke.

I leaned over to find my boots, and that voice scraped again in my ears, rough and demanding.

"Jewel, come to me . . ."

Oh, no.

My heart clenched, but it was inevitable, and with a shock of hot compulsion, I dissolved.

***

In seconds, I crystallized. My bare feet hit carpet that was streaked with dim moonlight. Dusty grey curtains swelled with warm breeze. The place smelled of blood, sticky and salt-drenched. I couldn't see anyone.

My skin prickled. I'd expected bright lights, laughter, gloating, that kind of thing. Usually people giggle and caper about like fools when I appear, before they find out about the moon and the french fries.

But this time I'd appeared in dim silence, alone.

My eyes adjusted, and the shadow of a bed emerged. I wasn't alone after all. A man, naked, fit and golden-skinned. His dark hair was a tangled mess. Curling thorns were inked up his arm and over his shoulder. He stirred, lifting his face from the pillow, fighting long black strands away before he even opened his eyes.

Recognition speared under my skin like a needle, and I groaned, disbelief mingling with irony. They had to be kidding me. Owned by a crazy vengeance-obsessed corpse?

My thoughts twirled in crazy circles. How did he get my lamp? And how did he know my name? They needed my name to own me. I hadn't told him. Hadn't said a word . . .

Except in my dream.

But that was crazy. How the hell could a dead guy eavesdrop on my dreams?

Someone had cornered him since we'd met at the club, by the looks of the spidery red bruise across his kidneys and the dark blood leaking from his nose onto the sheet. Still, he looked great naked. Lean tight legs, smooth back, cute butt. Not that I noticed.

Inwardly, I sighed. This is what happens, see. They claim me, the magic switches on, and poof! I'm all romantic and girly for a while.

I'd get over it.

I kicked the bedframe to rattle it. "Wake up, genius. Where's my lamp?"

He jerked fully awake, scrambling to turn over and crawl away from me at the same time. His dark eyes fixed on me, and widened. "Jesus, you're really . . . what the fuck are you doing here?"

Okay. Yeah. He looked even better from the front. That soaping I imagined before? All done, his skin clean and glistening with just a hint of mysterious darkness to keep you interested. He had a nasty gash on one hip, but who cares? I couldn't help letting my gaze slip a bit lower. Very nice.

He didn't seem to mind being naked in front of a suddenly-appearing woman, either. Maybe he liked guys. Damn. I wouldn't even be able to seduce him into letting me go. What I'd give for a glimmer of persuasion right now. I couldn't, not of my own accord. My power wasn't mine to play with anymore.

I tried it, just in case. Reached for my magic, a shimmer of seduction or a trick. Nothing.

Damn it. I scowled, in case he saw me staring. "Don't play dumb. You called my name, remember?"

He halted, leaning back on his elbows, staring at me with a crease in his forehead like I had three noses or something. "What are you on about, lady?"

I rolled my eyes. "Come on, already. Brass lamp, long neck, about this big?" I held up my hands a foot apart. "Sound familiar?"

He stared, and swallowed, his throat jerking. "You're kidding."

"You're telling me. Look, just hand it over, release me and I'm gone, okay? No harm done."

He sat up, dragging that gorgeous black hair into a twist and draping it over his shoulder out of the way. "Look, lady—"

"It's Jewel. You know that. Enough with the ladies, it doesn't fool me." I wanted to look at him, to watch him move, and it made me mad. He was trouble, pure and painful, I didn't care how bad and dangerous and downright tasty he was.

"Jewel, then. Whatever. I don't believe you, all right? Kane sent you to screw with my mind. Or you're just some fucking crazywoman stalking me or something. Either way, you can get out of my house right now."

Nah, nah. He didn't say the magic words. If they don't say my name, I don't have to. "I can't do that. Not without my lamp."

He lifted his hands, a mocking shrug. "Fine. Stay here. Just shut up and let me sleep." And he grabbed the sheet and made to roll himself back into it.

I tugged it away. "Ask me for french fries."

He laughed. "What?"

"Ask me. Say, 'Jewel, go get me some french fries'."

He shook his head, a tolerant smile. "If I say it, will you get the hell out of my bedroom?"

"Sure will." I just hoped something was still open around here. I couldn't charm french fries from the air any more than I could charm anything else. Sure, I can turn iron into gold or make things disappear, but that's not the same as creating something out of nothing. That can't be done, at least not by me. The only way I can get something new is to take it away from someone else. Like I said, I'm a collector, a fetcher of baubles. I swap things. That's all.

"Great. Now we're getting somewhere." He jammed the pillow against his curled arm and flopped down onto it. "Jewel, darling, if you're not busy and it isn't too much of a hassle, can you please leave me the fuck alone for a few seconds and go find us some french fries?"

God, what a sweetie. I only wished I could stay to watch his face when he saw what happened next.

Breath rushed into my lungs, and I smoked.

Out the window, drifting on warm summer breeze. Testing for scents, my molecules eddying to shape my senses. Ducking, curling, following the shiny smell of food. Bright yellow lights, a tiled floor, glass doors sliding open. I darted through and crashed back into my body, exhilarated. My bare feet stuck on cool tiles, air-conditioning icy on my skin. My damp dress crisped dry in a few seconds.

The pimply kid in front of me goggled. He pushed his baseball cap back over dirty blond hair and munched solemnly on another chip from a cardboard carton. His eyes gleamed, drug-shiny. "Hey, that's cool. How'd you do that?"

I grinned at him, my blood sparkling. "Give me your fries."

"Sure." He took one more, and handed me the carton.

"Thanks, baby." My mouth watered at the smell of salty fried potato. I hadn't eaten in half a century, and longing caressed my heart with seductive fingers. But I didn't have time to indulge. I gripped the warm cardboard tightly, and dissolved.

Seconds later, I landed back in my new man's bedroom. Still naked, still gorgeous. I hoped we didn't have to meet like this every time. It put too many dirty thoughts into my head.

I tossed the tempting fries on the bed, salt spilling. "As ordered. Believe me now, Einstein?"

He stared for a moment, and then he closed his eyes and wiped his hand over his face. "Christ."

"Never seen him. I just want my lamp back." I tossed my hair back, lifting my chin defiantly, but sadness twisted my heart too. Now would come the questions. Like, what else can you do? What if I said such-and-such or so-and-so? Just how rich and famous and powerful can you make me?

He wiped his nose, smearing blood on the back of his hand. "Not my problem, sister. I didn't ask for this. Just leave me alone, okay?"

My heart stopped, and I had to drag in a breath to make it start again. "What did you say?"

"I don't know where you came from or why you've picked on me, but you're not my problem. See ya. Bye." He rolled away again, greasy chips scattering on the sheet.

"Oh, no, you don't." I crawled onto the bed, and grabbed his arm to make him face me. Silky black hair cascaded onto my hand, his skin warm and soft in my grip. His sharp scent of blood and skin and sex flavored my mouth, distracting. I wanted to shake some comprehension into him, but my hands shook all on their own. "Don't you understand? You took my lamp. You called me by name. Now you're stuck with me. You've no right to just . . ."

Tears prickled my lids, and I squeezed them away with a fierce blink. No right to ignore me, to send me away.

To steal my lamp and not want me.

I'm used to being desired, coveted, sought after. I didn't know what to feel about this. I yearned for freedom so hard my bones ached, and yet . . .

He tensed his forearm in my grip, muscles swelling as if he'd shake me off, but he didn't. He met my gaze, so close I could see his lashes meshing when he blinked. He smelled dark, male, delicious. He opened his mouth, about to say something, but cut himself off with a shrug. "I'm sorry, darling. I can't help you."

I shoved him away and spun to hide my face from him, my vision blurring with stupid tears. My chest constricted, my lungs aching. I didn't understand. I couldn't believe it.

If he refused to either have me or help me? I had nothing. No powers. No freedom.

Nothing.

Roughly, I dragged my hand over my eyes. Fine. If he wouldn't help me, I'd help myself. My lamp had to be here somewhere.

I scrambled off the bed—his bed, where on any other day and in any other life I'd have been happy to stretch out beside him and play—and yanked my dress down over my butt. I'd search the place until I found it. Let him try and stop me.

Nothing on the floor except his clothes, nothing on the dresser but bunches of white cat fur, some elastic hair bands and a plastic comb tangled with long black strands. My gaze strayed to the doorway, and there hung my bag, on the banister at the top of the landing.

Yes. Thank you.

I skidded out onto the carpet, darting for it before he could stop me. I grabbed the silken strap and yanked the bag open, triumphant. All he had to do was release me, and I'd be . . .

I clutched the satin tight to my chest, panic thumping in my veins. "It's not here."

That got his attention. He sat up, muscles clenching in his thighs. "What?"

"It's not here. What have you done with it?" My voice rose, hysterical. I wanted to scream, beat my fists against the wall.

He slithered off the bed, dragging the white sheet with him—aha, a show of modesty, maybe not queer after all, cover that body up before I get frisky and damn it, why can't I concentrate?—and strode out with the linen wrapped around his waist. He tugged the bag from me and stuck his hand inside, his elegant jaw tight. "Shit." He dropped the bag, careless whether I caught it, and bizarrely he laughed, shaking his head. "Jesus, Tam, you're the dumbest trick this side of St Kilda."