Demonfire (7 page)

“It does seem that way,
doesn’t it? C’mon. Let’s do it.”

Eddy laughed. “You’re even
starting to sound human. What’s going on?”

He studied his hands a moment
and then gazed solemnly at her. “The longer I’m in this body, the more I
understand it and the more I seem to become like the person who once inhabited
it.” He shrugged.

Eddy stared. Even that simple
gesture was something she’d bet he’d never done as a demon.

He flashed a grin at Eddy. “I
think my avatar belonged to a soldier, though I imagine his soul has gone on to
its final rest. Whatever remains is impatient. It wants action. Let’s go.”

He slipped Willow into his
shirt pocket. She poked her head out. Gently he shoved her back down again,
caught Eddy’s hand in his, and stepped through the dark wall of stone.

Eddy wrapped Bumper’s leash a
couple of turns around her hand, and the dog followed as they passed from
Earth’s dimension into an area of shimmering light. She felt a low hum of power
that seemed to come from all around them.

“Wow.” Eddy felt dizzy from
the colors and glimmering light. Dax stood perfectly still, as if studying a
subway map, but she spun around, gawking. “There’s definitely more than three
choices,” she said. “Have you got Plan B figured out?”

Dax shook his head. “Not
really.” Then he pointed to an area of dark red light that pulsed with a
terrifying energy. “Abyss,” he said, and then turned and showed Eddy another
area glowing in shades of gold and silver. “That’s the way to Eden.”

“Where’s that one go?” Eddy
stared at a green and turquoise area of light that throbbed with the tempo of
the sea.

“I’m not sure, but I’d guess
it leads to Atlantis. Can’t you smell the brine in the air?”

Eddy sniffed and caught a
faint whiff of ocean. “Oh.”
Atlantis? Good Lord.

Bumper whined and tugged at
the leash.

“Is that it?” Eddy looked in
the direction Bumper seemed intent to lead. A steady golden glow ebbed and
flowed with the same rhythm as the beat of her heart. She felt drawn to it,
just as Bumper seemed drawn.

Dax nodded. “It is. I’m almost
positive. Willow, what do you think? Does that one feel right?”

The sprite poked her head up
out of his shirt pocket. Her light glowed brightly before she settled back
down. Only a slight shimmer escaped.

“Willow agrees. Let’s go.”

He led the way, stepping into
the glowing, rippling shimmer of color. Eddy felt a tug, as if something pulled
her forward, as well as a sense of fear that tried to push her back. The walls
of light seemed to close in about them; the air grew thick and hard to breathe.
Bumper growled. Then she whined and wagged her curly tail. She pulled Eddy and
Dax forward while golden light shimmered all around them.

Eddy was aware of sound
growing louder and louder, a steady roar that pulsed and ebbed with the beat of
her heart and filled her head, her ears, her entire body with noise. Dax kept
moving forward, but his grip on her hand tightened.

They were stopped by a solid,
flowing wave of gold that could have been molten metal. It fell like a
waterfall from somewhere overhead. Dax reached forward. Eddy bit off a scream,
expecting to see the flesh burned from his bones, but he parted the wave. It
separated and flowed over and around his hand like golden quicksilver, without
leaving a mark, though it didn’t part enough to let them see through to the
other side.

Dax turned to look over his
shoulder, gazing steadily at Eddy. “Can you do this?”

She nodded. She’d never felt
so terrified, nor so sure of herself, in her life. They had no idea what lay on
the other side. She glanced down at Bumper. The mutt tugged at her leash,
anxious to race through the golden wall.

Dax leaned over and surprised
Eddy with a kiss. He wrapped one arm around her waist and dragged her body
close against his. His lips moved over hers; his tongue tested the seam between
them.

She hesitated, but for only a
moment. Then she opened for him. His breath was sweet and hot; his tongue
licked at her lips and the soft recesses inside her mouth.

She whimpered, a small sound
deep in her throat that seemed to vibrate against his soft groan of need. Her
body trembled, and hot licks of sensation swept over her shivering skin. She
pressed her hips against him, against the hard ridge of his erection, oblivious
to their frightening, fascinating surroundings, to danger, to anything beyond
the scent and touch and pure eroticism of Dax, of this moment, of the man who
touched her so sweetly.

It was Dax who finally broke
the kiss, licking her lips, nibbling along the line of her jaw, and then
planting a tiny kiss on the tip of her nose before setting her back on her
feet. He cupped her face in his big hands and looked into her eyes.

“Thank you, Eddy Marks. No
matter what happens, you have shown me a world I never expected. One I didn’t
dream existed. You’ve already given me my taste of Paradise.”

She bit her lips between her
teeth, but there were no words. Everything she felt was in her eyes:
excitement, fear, confusion, arousal. When Dax smiled, she knew he understood.

She only wished she did. He
wasn’t real. He wasn’t even human.

He was everything she wanted,
and more. And he couldn’t have been more wrong for her. More impossible. She
tasted him on her lips, and all her feminine muscles clenched in need.

Desire trumped fear.

If he thought this was
Paradise, what would he think if she showed him where that kiss of his might
lead? She wasn’t willing to let it go—not the kiss, not Dax, not the feelings
coursing through her body, flowing like the golden curtain guarding their way.
She wanted more of it, more of Dax.

More of Paradise.

He said he had less than a
week. She wanted more!

Much, much more.

Dax took her hand. Eddy
grabbed Bumper’s leash and set aside everything but their mission.
Lemurians
. She had to focus on finding the Lemurians.

Dax squeezed her fingers. His
smile was confident. Bold. Willow ducked down into his pocket. Eddy tightened
her grip on Bumper’s leash, and together they stepped through the flowing veil
of gold.

Monday night—day two

Alton, first son of Chancellor
Artigos of the Ruling Council of Nine and heir apparent to the throne of
Lemuria, leaned against one of the golden columns in the Inner Sanctum of the
Lost City and cursed.

Quietly, of course. It
wouldn’t do to upset the status quo.

Even though he was bored to
tears with the status quo.

It didn’t help his disposition
any that he was heir to the throne of an immortal king. Not that he wanted
anything to happen to his father, but there wasn’t much hope for job
advancement.

Since he was also
immortal—though he could be killed, old-age and illness weren’t issues—he’d
been heir apparent for what felt like forever. Dear old Dad was just as healthy
and hard-headed now as he’d been back before the citizens of Lemuria had packed
up their doomed kingdom and moved to a separate dimension within the mountain
known as Shasta so many thousands of years ago.

Of course, the sanctuary the
elders had chosen was deep inside a dormant volcano, one that tended to erupt
every six hundred years or so, which meant packing everything up and evacuating
until the mountain settled into dormancy once more. During the last eruption
they’d moved through a portal in the vortex to Sedona in the American
Southwest. Fascinating country, rich with ancient spirits and unique
connections through a different set of dimensional portals and vortexes.

At least it had engendered a
bit of excitement.

Anything was better than the
endless philosophical discussions that now occupied the ruling class of
Lemuria. Arguing dogma got old after a few thousand years, especially when no
conclusions were ever reached. Alton had only needed a couple of clandestine
journeys to the world outside Mount Shasta to be reminded once again that there
was more to life than philosophical discourse and unending debate.

Earth was amazing, its humans
even more so. They seethed with emotion. Humans seemed to act without thought
or concern for the common good.

No…they felt, and then they
reacted, generally without thinking, but damn, they certainly seemed to enjoy
the ride. Alton envied humans their emotions. What would it be like to feel, to
experience joy, passion, excitement, even fear again?

Not since his long-ago
childhood had he been free to feel. It wasn’t proper, now that he was grown. It
was unseemly to allow the baser passions their freedom.

To hell
with unseemly.
What would it be like, to feel passionate enough about
something to be willing to take risks for it? His thoughts drifted to a night
many years before when he’d left this hallowed place and walked with his bare
feet through rain-washed dirt.

A storm had recently passed,
and the ground was muddy and slick. It stuck to his bare soles and stained the
pristine hem of his white robe, but he’d buried his feet in the soft, wet muck
and watched it ooze up between his curled toes. Cold and slimy and so very
real…he’d felt a connection to the earth unlike anything he’d known before.

He’d even stepped on a
sticker. Hurt like blazes until he’d found it and pulled it out of his heel,
but he’d actually relished the pain, the small dot of blood that was a
persuasive reminder that yes, he was alive.

It was so easy to forget, down
here amongst the elders of his world, men who could spend months arguing a
simple point merely for the sake of the argument.

What would it be like to fight
over something that actually mattered? To believe strongly enough to risk
everything for a cause bigger than himself?

“Alton? What are you doing
here?”

Jerked out of his musings,
Alton glanced up as Taron, his one true friend, approached. Tall, lean, with
his single vermillion braid hanging as neatly bound as always down his back,
Taron looked the part of the brilliant mathematician he’d grown to be.

It was easy to forget they’d
once been boys together in old Lemuria, racing through sand dunes and swimming
in the pristine sea without a care or worry to their names. They’d known
passion then. The joy of being children in a world surrounded by azure seas
beneath cerulean skies.

Alton glanced up at the
intricate design in the gold leaf overhead and sighed. “Just wondering how to
fill my days without going crazy.”

Taron frowned. “Crazy? You?
Shouldn’t you be preparing to one day lead the citizens of Lemuria? As heir
apparent…”

Alton shrugged. “Apparently
you haven’t paid attention. When one’s father, also the world’s ruler for life,
is immortal, ’tis foolish to aspire to his position.” He raised an eyebrow.

Taron laughed out loud. “I see
your point. Actually, I’m pleased to find you here otherwise unencumbered. I
need to talk to you.” He glanced right and left, as if assuring that no one
would hear what he was about to say, and then spoke very softly. “We have a
problem. Large numbers of demons are passing through the vortex from Abyss to
Earth. I’m concerned. Their numbers appear to be increasing exponentially.”

Frowning, Alton gestured to
Taron to follow him around the column he’d been leaning against, to the quiet
alcove behind it. “How do you know this?”

“I noticed the influx about a
week ago.” Taron shrugged. “I stepped beyond the golden veil for a change of
perspective and happened to notice a new portal in the vortex leading directly
to Abyss. I was curious and decided to watch it for a while. Demon stench was
impossible to ignore. I counted many demons taking the form of wraiths and
disappearing through to Earth. It didn’t take long to realize their numbers are
increasing.”

“Did you report it to the
council?”

Taron merely raised one
expressive eyebrow. Alton sighed. What was the point? Demons entering Earth’s
dimension had nothing to do with Lemurian politics—at least as far as his
father and the ruling body were concerned.

“Some day my dear father and
his eight fellow senators are going to be shocked when they discover their
arguments are worth no more than dust on the feet of demons in the overall
scheme of things.” Alton glanced over Taron’s shoulder at the small, mannerly
groups of white-robed figures filling the great plaza.

Taron nodded. “How quickly
they forget we were once fearsome warriors, that our people fought demonkind to
a standstill.”

Alton cut loose with a
derisive snort. “If they were to remember those days, they’d be forced to
recall the days when our swords still spoke to us as fellow soldiers.”

Taron merely shook his head in
disgust. “We were once a proud people, Alton. Not anymore. Look at what we’ve
become.”

Alton looked, and then he
sighed. The debates went on as usual: the level of voices never raised. The
arguments remained the same. Century after century of the same discussions, the
same gentlemanly disagreements.

Why in the gods’ hells
couldn’t someone just get angry once in a while? He glanced down at the same
white robe he wore every day. The one that made him look exactly like every
other male in the huge auditorium.

He was going to end up exactly
like them. A clone of his father—a man without imagination or passion. Without
a ray of hope for anything more from his life.

Hells…what would it be like to
fight for something important, to earn his sword’s respect, to have it actually
acknowledge him? Obviously he hadn’t proved himself worthy enough to bear it,
which was why he’d left the damned thing in his quarters. He’d never actually
witnessed a sword that spoke, but history was rife with examples. His, however,
was not one of them. When he raised his head, Alton caught Taron staring at him
with an odd glint in his bright green eyes. “What?”

“You truly do look bored and
dissatisfied.”

“I am. Very.” Alton huffed out
a frustrated breath. “Day after day, the same conversations, the same
arguments, the same talk, talk, talk. It goes nowhere. Solves nothing.” He
glared at Taron. “I can’t stand it!”

“Come with me, then. I have
something you might find interesting. Something that may be linked to demons.”

Without waiting, Taron turned
away and headed down a long hallway leading to another level, one where the
technicians labored to keep their society on its usual level footing. Alton had
often envied them their caste designation. At least they had purpose, a job to
do, one that society actually depended upon.

“Slow down,” he said, taking
longer steps to catch up to Taron. “Where are you taking me?”

“We had a rather unusual
incident this morning.” Taron grinned at Alton, as if he carried a secret much
too good to keep. “I only learned of it by accident, but it appears a couple of
humans managed to cross through the golden veil.”

“Humans?” Alton caught up to
Taron. “How’d they get in?”

Taron shook his head. “I’m not
sure, though rumor has it one of them reeks of demon. I was headed down to see
them when I spotted you. Thought you might be interested.”

“Does my father know?”

Once again Taron raised his
eyebrows. He kept going. “Of course. He gave orders they be incarcerated and
forgotten.”

Alton practically growled.
“Typical. So they’re locked up?”

“Why do you think we’re going
to the dungeons, my friend? Pay attention!”

Alton blinked. Taron was
right. He really did need to pay closer attention.

“Who passes?”

A guard stepped out of the
shadows with his sword raised. Taron and Alton stopped. Alton glanced at the
guard’s shiny steel sword. At least the man didn’t have to worry about his
sword refusing to speak—only the ruling caste carried crystal. Alton stepped
forward. “Heir Apparent Alton to interrogate the prisoners. Take us to them
immediately.”

The guard saluted, and,
without question, turned and led them through a large gate and then into
another long hallway. This one was even darker and narrower than the first.
Alton glanced at Taron and flashed him a quick grin. At times like this, being
the heir, apparent or otherwise, had its pluses.

The guard stopped in front of
a barred door. Inside, behind the bars and a barrier of pure energy, two
terribly dejected-looking humans and a rather odd animal covered in curly
yellow hair sat huddled together on a single sleeping cot. Alton dismissed the
guard. As soon as the man was gone, he glanced at Taron. “Shall we?”

“I’m ready if you are. Between
the two of us, I think we can take them should they offer resistance.” He
grinned after making his dry comment, obviously not all that concerned with any
particular threat from the prisoners.

With a wave of his hand, Alton
directed the bars to part. The energy field winked out of existence. The sense,
but not the scent, of demon wafted from the room. Alton glanced at Taron and
frowned. He received a questioning shrug in return.

Totally confused and not just
a little uncertain, the two Lemurians entered the cell.

Dad was going to be so
disappointed in his much-lauded Lemurians.
Jackasses!
Eddy and Dax had barely stepped through the flowing wall of gold when they’d
been nabbed by a couple of big bruisers who looked tough enough to work for the
Siskiyou County Sheriff’s Department—except the deputies back home were a hell
of a lot nicer.

The guys that caught them this
morning were sorely lacking in diplomatic skills. Brawny and powerful-looking
in spite of the blue robes that reminded her of something you might wear at an
expensive spa, the Lemurian guards hadn’t said word one to either her or Dax.

No, they’d merely trapped them
in some kind of energy beam so they couldn’t do anything but follow orders, and
marched them down a dark tunnel, straight to this damned little cell. Eddy
glanced at Dax, but he wouldn’t even meet her eyes. She couldn’t imagine how
awful he must feel. Sent to save the world with only a week to achieve the
impossible, and they’d spent at least the last two hours locked in a stupid
cell, Lord knows how far under the ground. A cell with bars across the doorway
and, for added assurance, some kind of sizzling, sparking beam that looked like
it would fry anyone who tried to go through.

Obviously some of the stories
she’d heard about the Lemurians and their advanced technology were true, but
the part about them being honorable and brave warriors was a crock. All her
dad’s talk of Lemurians battling demons throughout history was just
that—nothing more than hot air. It looked like none of it was going to help
them a bit.

Now how the hell were they
going to get out of here?

Bumper whined. Eddy stroked
her blond curls. “It’s okay, girl. We’ll think of something. They can’t leave
us here forever.”

Says who?

Willow’s telepathic voice
carried the sound of tears. Eddy glanced to her right and saw the sprite’s
little face barely peeking out of Dax’s shirt pocket. Her wings were droopy,
and there was no shimmer to her at all.

Not a blue sparkle to be seen.

“We’ll get out, Willow,” Eddy
said. “Don’t give up hope.”

Dax raised his head and looked
at her. “How do you do it?” He shook his head. “You never show fear. You never
give up. I wish I were more like you, Eddy Marks.”

His sad smile made her heart
clench. Then she remembered the taste of his lips on hers and the kiss they’d
shared. “You’re not giving up, Dax. None of us are.” She wrapped her fingers
around his hand and squeezed. “I’m not sure how, but we’ll get out of here.
They have to help us.”

She felt the slightest pressure
against her fingers as Dax returned her squeeze. Just the warmth of his hand in
hers made her feel better. More connected. Stronger.

She looked around the tiny
room that seemed to have been carved out of solid rock. It was light, and the
air was fresh, even though there were no windows or visible light fixtures.