Demon Hunter (The Collegium Book 1) (8 page)

Demonology was a conservative discipline. Shelves around the edges of the lab held jars of poison, amulets and the raw materials for their creation, metals and crystals. A large freezer held animal carcasses. Shelf after shelf held texts, prayers and chants. The floor was marble, easy to wash chalk marks off, not easy to burn.

A man and a woman’s bodies lay torn in the middle of the room. The protective diagram chalked on the floor was smudged and broken. Candles were waxy pools set in a pattern new to Fay. She stopped at the edge of it.

“Why haven’t you had the guardians in?” she asked Angus. There had been time enough since the demon attacked her in Fremantle for a clean-up operation.

She read the answer in Angus’s tense face and his hovering in the doorway. “You weren’t sure the demon was contained.”

“He was probably waiting for a way to escape responsibility for the screw up,” Steve said. He waited between Fay and Angus, protective.

“People are irrational when it comes to demons,” Angus said. “I wanted to be sure they wouldn’t destroy the amulet.”

Fay saw it, the silver gleaming, in the center of the broken pattern, beside the outstretched hand of the dead woman. The demon had ripped off half her face.

“I’d say fear is a healthy response.” Fay breathed shallowly. The stink, the echoes of terror and the indefinable stench of demon all combined to induce nausea. A small part of her mind wondered how Steve’s heightened senses were dealing with the onslaught.

She bent and drew her knife from its ankle sheath. It was the same blade she’d lent Steve in the African jungle. She’d been honing its magic for years. She could have thrown it at the golem, but she’d known she’d need it now. With a demon, there were seldom second chances.

“Oran.” She’d learned the demon’s name in Africa. “Be visible.”

The demon’s power was bound within the amulet, a binding it fought with the whole strength of its rage.

Fay flinched.

It was strong, standing here between the two people it had killed.

“Bloody hell,” Steve whispered behind her.

For one of the rare times, the demon appeared in its own form rather than within a human body. It was terrifying, so beautiful and remote that it hurt. It wasn’t flesh and blood, but fire. Colors of orange, crimson, saffron and white gold melded into one another to form a creature half a head taller than Fay. It was naked but for the crimson bat wings that folded around it.

Without possession of a human body, Fay didn’t know if her knife could touch it, kill it. She held the blade ready for an underhand strike, ripping up through the stomach, under the ribs, to the heart. “Oran, I banish you from the world of humans, from the earth that nurtures, the sea that endures, the sky that holds our dreams. You are deceit and destruction. I know you. Name you.”

The demon bared its teeth and threaded its own words through the ritual of exorcism. “You think you’ve won. You’ll lose everything. The infection is deep in the Collegium. I taste it.” Its tongue flickered.

Ancient in evil, the demon followed its words with another sly attack. It worked around her bindings, not venturing a direct attack. She felt the lick of its powers fumble towards her heart.

Steve covered her left shoulder blade with his hand and she pressed back into his human strength. But the demon wasn’t trying to physically kill her. She felt its frustrated rage as it touched her torn bindings to the Collegium. Through them it could have sunk claws into her, negating her exorcism by sending even a part of its power into her; blood to blood from the two demonologists it had killed.

But she had destroyed every link to the Collegium.

“Oran, I cast you into the exterior darkness, into hell with no hope of return.” Revulsion that it tried to possess her through loyalty to the Collegium gave her anger. She struck the air with her knife, opening a rip in reality and kicking Oran through it.

The rip sealed behind the demon, leaving only the stench of brimstone and the amulet that had bound it melted to a blob of silver and gold.

Fay leant back against Steve.

He wrapped his arms around her and held her there.

A near silent whisper crept from the doorway where Angus stood. “Ego voco vos...”
I summon...

Steve released Fay and shifted.

Even her senses, trained and experienced in sensing magic pulses couldn’t track the speed of his shift.

One moment human, the next, Steve snarled a warning. He was a leopard, but three times a leopard’s normal size. As his lips pulled back from sharp teeth, he looked more sabre-tooth tiger than hunting cat. His roar rattled the jars on their shelves and cut off Angus mid-word.

The demonologist abandoned his summoning to shape and fling a constraining spell.

Fay shrugged.
Idiot
. A spell wouldn’t affect a were leopard immune to magic attack.

The futile spell fell shredded to the ground. Angus’s mouth gaped open, then his eyes widened and he staggered backwards.

Steve paced forward.

Angus flung another constraining spell, then a fire spell. From the outer room, Emma screamed as he grabbed her and slung her at Steve.

“Enough.” Fay walked through the door.

Steve shifted back to human. “You useless bastard.” He grabbed Angus by the collar of his shirt and slammed him against the wall.

Fay hesitated. She was trained to attack and defend, but Steve had that covered. Instead she bent and helped Emma from the floor. “Are you hurt?”

Emma shook her head, but burst into tears and cried against Fay, who patted her shoulder and looked helplessly at Steve. They ought to reverse roles. He’d know what to do with a crying woman.

Steve had other concerns. Nails sharp as claws drew blood at Angus’s throat. “You waited till Fay was weak, vulnerable from cleaning up your mess, and then you attacked her. What was the spell you planned to use?”

Glassy-eyed with terror and straining to vanish into the walls, Angus stayed silent.

Sobbing and hiccoughing, Emma answered. “I recognized the chant. It was a summoning spell. They’re death magic. He wanted to call a demon to possess Fay.”

A feral growl split the shocked silence.

Then came the disgusting stink of Angus losing control of his bowels. “I was under orders. Demons channel magic. The Collegium wants to harness that ability to increase the magic it commands. Fay has no limit to the power she calls. It was…logical to channel a demon through her.”

“I’ll eat your heart,” Steve said.

Fay’s own heart seemed to start working again after the moment of frozen disbelief. Demonic possession was a cruelty beyond belief. For the Collegium to consider…no,
decide
to sacrifice her to that horror stabbed viciously.

“I didn’t know. I would never…” Emma whispered.

“It’s okay.” Fay patted her shoulder.

Blood ran down Angus’s throat. “It’s by the President’s order. Since Fay won’t give her services freely, he said we must compel her.”

“No father would order demonic possession of his daughter,” Steve said with the outrage of weres’ strong family and clan loyalty.

Fay knew no such certainty. Her dad had ordered her possessed, utilized as a weapon, her spirit strangled. Freezing cold flowed out from her heart, chilling her thoughts into the cold ruthlessness she’d been trained in.

“Go home.” She released Emma.

“I should…” The woman looked from Fay to the other room, where the corpses of her friends lay.

“We’ll clean up.”

Emma’s gaze skitted away from Steve and Angus. She retreated slowly, then as she reached the outer door her pace quickened. She ran down the corridor.

“Let him go,” Fay said to Steve.

Angus collapsed to the floor.

“He should die.” Steve faced her.

“The Collegium can deal with its own trash,” she said. “Since no one else has called the guardians about two demon kills, I will. Their families need to be told. And Angus must take responsibility.”

“He’ll lie or he’ll run. He’s a coward.”

“Emma will tell the truth and there are truth-seers in the Collegium. You need to leave, Steve, so I can seal the room.”

He glanced back at Angus. “Lie and I’ll kill you.” He walked out.

Fay followed him to the door, then called magic. It answered sluggishly, her nerve endings burning. She’d reach the ragged end of the power she could command. First re-binding a demon, then destroying a golem, and finally, exorcising the demon took everything she had. Add in the emotional shock of her father’s treachery and she was running on empty.

She ignored the pain and wove magic around the room, its windows and doors. Until the Collegium guardians arrived and brought their own mage, Angus would be trapped inside. Her ears popped as the room sealed.

Steve put his hand at the curve of her neck and shoulder, possessive as much as protective. She didn’t shrug him off, but she didn’t lean into him either. They walked that way to the elevator and its doors opened.

“I should have killed him,” he said.

“Inside the Collegium building? Right or wrong, the guardians would have hunted you down. You’d have been judged and executed.”

“What he did was wrong. What he said to you—” His hand tightened and released. “Sorry.”

“Dad could have given that order.” Abruptly her cool voice shattered. She shuddered.

Steve’s hand dropped to her waist. He stepped closer, pressing against her back. “He couldn’t. No father could.”

“Mine could.”

The elevator doors opened.

Fay tilted her chin and stepped out. She caught the receptionist’s worried gaze as Emma leaned over his counter, half-hysterical. Fay spoke clearly, infusing her voice with the tone of command. “Dr. Angus Barnes is upstairs with the dead bodies of two of his staff. He tried to control a demon, partly loosing its binding. I’ve exorcised it. He should be charged with murder, manslaughter at the least. A Collegium demonologist banishes, he doesn’t call them.”

“He tried to summon one to possess Fay,” Emma contributed.

The receptionist’s eyes widened in dismay. “Is Dr. Barnes still alive?”

“Regrettably,” Steve said.

“Call the Collegium guardians to detain him,” Fay said. “They need to collect the bodies and formally identify them. Inform their families.”

The receptionist fumbled for his phone, his attention on Fay with Steve at her shoulder. “I’ll call Nancy.” The all-purpose fixer who stood between the President and the Collegium, breaking his staff’s bad news to him, softening his arrogant commands to them.

“Forget Nancy. Forget Dad. Call the damn guardians—and look after Emma.” Fay swung on her heel.

Steve held his ground. “I have a message for the Collegium guardians and anyone else who needs to hear it. Fay isn’t yours any more. Let her alone.”

“Or else?” The receptionist re-discovered his spine.

Steve’s massive leopard form dominated the foyer. He flickered back to human. “Next time, Fay won’t stop me hunting.”

Steve took the seatbelt from Fay’s clumsy grasp and fitted it home. “You’re wiped.”

“I’m furious.” She turned her head and looked at him, seeing the stubble shadowing his jawline. He was hard and masculine, protective, concerned—but this was her fight. She pushed back a wave of fatigue. “You shouldn’t have threatened the Collegium.”

“It was a promise.” He switched on the engine, pulling away from the Collegium.

“Ha.”

“Cute snort. You’re important to me, Fay.”

She ignored him, too churned up with her own emotions to pursue his. “I’m in a mess with the Collegium. The smart thing would be for you to stay clear till I sort out what’s happening. It’s all gone to hell. Did you hear the demon Oran? He tasted infection in the Collegium.”

“I heard.”

“It’s awful. I shouldn’t even be in your car. Stop and let me out. I’ll take the subway.”

“To where?”

Her brain turned over the question, stuttering with tiredness. It found no answers. For her, New York had always meant the Collegium. Now the Collegium threatened her and was itself threatened, infected. If only she weren’t so hell-blasted power burned. She had to crash.

“I have a place in New York,” he said. “Deep protections. A witch owed me a favor. It’s not in my name, either. We’ll leave the SUV at a were house and walk. The Collegium guardians might be able to track technology, but not you or me.”

Him because he was a magic-immune were, and she because habitual protective magics guarded her.

“I thought you lived in Cyprus?” She’d pictured him lounging in a hammock in the sunny grounds of a Mediterranean villa. In her vision, his eyes opened. He smiled at her and held out his hand, inviting her to tumble into the hammock with him. Cicadas shrilled in the yellowing summer grass.

“Frig.” She rubbed the heel of her hand along her thigh. Her thoughts were scattering. Exhaustion shot concentration. She had the Collegium to deal with, her dad.

“I do live in Cyprus. It’s a convenient jumping off point for espionage. But I’m in New York often enough to keep a small place.” A pause. “I’m not poor, Fay.”

Her answer stalled on a yawn. “You never look rich.”

“Why paint a target on my back?” He touched her cheek, thumb brushing under her eye. “You’re rambling tired.”

“Am not.” She closed her eyes to savor the caress and woke when the SUV stopped.

Steve jumped out, leaning back in to haul out her bag.

She moved more slowly, testing the realization that she’d slept in his presence, unconsciously trusting him to protect them both. “I could find my own place.”

“Forget it.” He slotted the SUV’s keys through a mail box and ran back down the steps of the apartment building. He moved beautifully, balanced and powerful, taking three steps at a stride.

He grabbed her hand and she gave up the argument. She wanted to go home with him. He led her on a tangled run through a maze of buildings and she used her magic subtly, a dusting of confusion, to hide their path.

The run woke her up. Blood that had flowed sluggishly from emotional shock warmed. Her skin flushed.

They moved from shadow to darker shadow in the predawn darkness.

The Collegium was hunting her. By her dad’s orders, they’d use her anyway they could.

Fury, shame, betrayal, a cauldron of emotions roiled as she thought of the Collegium using demons, allying with evil to increase its power. The motto was
I serve
, but there was no service to humanity when you danced with devils.

The scars the demon had left on her pulsed as if her blood had turned bitter. Pain chewed at her bones. It was grief. She had fought and bled for an institution whose actions revolted her.

“We’re here.” Steve entered a code that got them into the steel and glass building, and pressed his hand to the bio-reader to call the elevator.

He was a leopard. It figured his den would be high.

It turned out to be a penthouse, occupying a corner of the top floor and furnished with expensive simplicity. The walls were white with floor-length windows and sand-colored curtains a shade lighter than the smooth bamboo floor. They were open, revealing the night cityscape. Large, comfortable furniture had the elegance of European design. Bookshelves ran along one wall with the opposite wall holding a television.

Steve strode into the open plan living space and dropped her bag. He peeled off his leather jacket and dropped it over the back of a sofa.

“Let me.” He took Fay’s coat and flung it after his. The skin of his face showed his tension. It stretched tight over his cheekbones, hollowing shadows.

He had challenged the Collegium for her, not offering his protection, but insisting on it. No one ever defended her. All her life she’d been expected to be the strong one. 

She touched his chest, fingers brushing over the flannel shirt, feeling the softness, aware of the hardness underneath.

His breathing quickened, as it hadn’t during their run.

“I shouldn’t be here.”

“In my lair?”

She half-smiled, because the humor and the disregard of danger were typically Steve. He made his decisions and then he lived with them. She put her arms around him. “Hold me.”

“With pleasure.” He picked her up, carrying her to a massive armchair that had its back to the room. He settled her in his lap, caging her in the power and sensuality of his body. One hand curved possessively over her thigh.

With the dim lighting in the room behind them, their reflections showed ghostly over the city scene. Fay studied the tableau. They looked like lovers, with rights over one another’s bodies. She surrendered to the fantasy and rested her head against his shoulder.

His hand slid down her thigh to her knee where his thumb moved idly.

She hadn’t known knees were an erogenous zone.

“I should have known it couldn’t be casual between us,” he said.

The determination in his voice, as much as the words, jerked her out of her floating sensual daze.

“Three nights I spent, waiting for you, wondering where the hell you were. On the way to the Collegium, I said you were mine and I meant it. But you need to know who I am before you decide. A relationship between us…wouldn’t be easy.”

“I’ll deal with the Collegium,” she said.

“Hell. I’m not scared of your friggin’ Collegium. And you’re not facing them alone.” His arm tightened around her shoulders. “I’m talking about me. I bring baggage, too, and mine’s not the kind that ever goes away.” His chest rose and fell sharply. “How much do you know about me, Fay?”

“I know you’re a mercenary specializing in hostage recovery. You also do some bodyguard assignments, but never for long periods. You consult on safe passage arrangements through war zones. You’re the most lethal fighter I’ve ever seen. I respect that.” She tugged his hand to rest on her stomach and covered it with her own. “I trust you.”

“You’ve forgotten the point most members of the Collegium would put first. I’m a were.”

“So?”

Weres were human, intermarrying. Nothing Fay knew of them prevented a relationship between a were and a magic user. All it meant was directing a blast of magic at Steve wouldn’t affect him at all.

“So while weres aren’t part of the Collegium, we do have a loose social structure. Most of us are well-integrated into human society and it provides the framework for our behavior. However, our animal halves need the reassurance of a final authority. It’s not something we talk about with outsiders.”

He paused. “We have a Suzerain, someone who carries the burden of decisions and responsibility. If a were goes rogue, he gives the order to execute. He decides conflicts of territory and renewal of traditions. The position is hereditary. The current Suzerain is my grandfather.”

“You’re royalty?”

“No.”

“Too bad.” She gave his chest a mock-consoling pat. He was so tense, it worried her. She didn’t want there to be another reason for caution, a reason to end their closeness. She wanted to relax into him and let everything else go.

“The suzerainty is passed from grandfather to grandson, skipping one generation.”

Not royalty. She finally understood what he was saying. Heir to the throne. “You’re telling me you’re the next leader of the weres.”

“A leader with limited powers, constantly debated and shouted at, but yes. I’ll be the next Suzerain.”

Her muscles slumped in defeat. A casual affair with her was one thing, but without even going to bed together, they’d dived into deep water—and Steve had responsibilities. The last thing he needed in his life was the cast-off daughter of the Collegium President pursued by demons and guardians.

He gave her a little shake. “You could at least answer me.”

She blinked. Surely he knew he could count on her commonsense? This attraction between them couldn’t be acted on.

“I know you’ve hated being the Collegium President’s daughter, but the Suzerainty is different. Lower profile, for a start. You hadn’t even heard of it. I’d keep the demands away from you as much as possible, but they would be there. Some weres think it’s smart to get the Suzerain’s partner onside.”

“Steve?” She shoved against his chest, trying to straighten, but his tight hold held her against him. His eyes were topaz, glowing. Aroused. It confused her. “If you need me to agree a relationship is impossible—“ 

“Not impossible. Bloody difficult. But I’d do everything to help you. We could take it slow, one step at a time, whatever you need.”

It sunk in slowly. “You want me.”

“Of course I do.” He exhaled in sharp frustration. “You’re in my blood. But a relationship between us would be serious. I was kidding myself thinking otherwise. You need to know me. Not Steve-your-mercenary-were, but the man who has family and dreams and responsibilities. You need to know that when you’re threatened, I’ll fight. And when I’m snarling at the world, you’ll be the one who can calm me, can pet me, can call me on my bad temper.”

“Steve—”

“And don’t even think of backing away from what’s between us because you think it’ll save me from the Collegium. Take me to your bed or don’t take me, I’m still going after the Collegium. I’m the next Suzerain. If the Collegium is messing with demons, they’re a danger to weres. Hell, they’re a danger to themselves.”

“I don’t think the whole Collegium can be corrupt.” But she wasn’t concentrating on the words. “We’re in your home. If anyone takes anyone to bed, you have to take me.”

“Take you?” He slid a hand under her shirt.

The skin to skin sensation shivered through her body.

“Decide, Fay. Can you deal with who I am?”

“Yes.”