Demons of Desire (36 page)

I walked through, trying to ignore the sting of the barrier as I crossed. In the other room, the witches and vampires had corralled the half–naked Crimson Moon members into a corner. Kristin gasped when she saw me, bringing a hand to her chest.

“I’m okay. This isn’t my blood — It’s Basteau’s. I accidently blew him up.”

That didn’t seem to faze the witch one bit.

“Irix?” Her voice trembled.

“He’s fine too, just trapped in a bunch of triangles. You wouldn’t happen to have any more of that acid stuff, would you?”

She strode past me, red–blond curls bouncing on her shoulders. I followed her and watched as she traced the lines of the triangle with her finger.

“Amazing. Usually crossing it or breaking it with a touch will allow the entrapped being to escape. There must be some sort of incantation needed to open the barrier.”

I watched her in amazement. “How do you know all this? I mean, you’re Wiccan.”

Kristin brushed the red curls from her forehead and gave me an embarrassed smile. “I’ve path hopped a lot in my life. Golden Dawn, Voodoo, Shamanism, Wicca — I’ve dabbled in it all.”

She seemed to have done more than dabble, but I held my tongue. She turned back and touched the outer line of the series of triangles once more.

“Salt.”

I spread my hands and looked to either side of me. Table, lamp, chair, sofa, and a bookshelf.

“I don’t usually carry it with me. Should I go search for the kitchen?”

“No need.” Kristin reached into one of the pockets of her cargo pants and pulled out a plastic bag full of white grains. “Girl’s gotta be prepared for anything, you know?”

Yes I did. Kristin spread the salt on the portions of the triangle lines that crossed the threshold, and then rubbed it in, as if she were scrubbing the floors. Sitting back, she surveyed the mess of gritty white on the oak floors.

“There. Come on out, you sexy beast.”

Irix winked at the redhead and stepped through the barrier. I let out the breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. Then I grabbed him and held him like I never wanted to let him go. I’d been so scared, so worried that he would be banished, killed, trapped in this pink Victorian house forever. His arms came around me, and for a few moments all I knew was his scent, the warmth of his flesh against mine. I wanted to stay wrapped in his arms for all eternity, but our job wasn’t finished.

“Weaver is still out there somewhere.” I said, pulling back from our embrace.

“Demon or not, we’ve got a city threatened by this storm,” Kristin chimed in. “Those Crimson Moon folks agreed to work with us to try and diffuse it, but I’m still worried about the levee spells.”

I looked up at Irix, into his golden eyes. “To the levees?”

His face was all hard angles as he met my gaze, looking every inch the two–thousand–year–old demon. “Yes, but we take Ourson to stand guard as we work. Just in case.”

37

T
he Cadillac felt like a paper boat tossed in the ocean as we drove through the flooded streets toward the Mississippi River. Rain pelted down in hard sheets, breaking every few seconds to take a breath. I clutched the seat, grinding my teeth as we hydroplaned our way along the roadway.

Irix had insisted that Ourson ride shotgun, which pissed me off to no end. I was safely in the back like precious china, wrapped in the leather coat the incubus had insisted I take from him. I seethed until we pulled up to the curb.

“Lights, camera, action, elf–girl. Let’s get a move on.”

Ourson stood guard as Irix and I staggered our way through the wind and rain to the levee. The process of breaking the spells was second nature to me by this point. We worked our way through three of the spells as the storm gained ferocity. Whatever Kristin and the others were doing, it didn’t seem to be working. We were on the edge of a hurricane, and if we couldn’t break these spells, the city would be in danger. It was a race against time, and even with Irix’s huge store of energy fueling me, I worried we’d be too little, too late.

As we pulled up to the aquarium, parking on Canal Street. I had a moment of nostalgia for Café du Monde beignets and Irix’s house just a few blocks away. Opening the car door, I stepped out into the wind and rain. Not that it mattered. I was already soaked from the last four locations.

I’d barely taken four steps before a weight hit me from behind, knocking me into the sodden grass. My nose and mouth filled with cold, damp dirt, but I felt heat across my back.

“Mage,” Ourson shouted.

I heard the splash of running through the flooded grasses, and Irix’s weight lifted off me. I rolled over, smelling the distinctive aroma of burnt fiber and flesh. The demon had burns across one side of his face. Half of his shirt and pants had been singed and partially melted to his body. Polyester really sucked when it came to fire.

“Holy shit. Are you okay?” I reached up to touch Irix’s blistered face.

He jerked his head at my touch. “Fine. Ourson has got this guy. Come on, we’ve got to get moving. Sixteen more spells to go.”

I got it. He didn’t want to expend energy on fixing his injuries when we had work to do, and a potential demon on the loose. I gripped his chin in my hand and ran my fingers gently over his burn. “Then let’s go, sweetheart.”

We fought against the wind gusts, past the aquarium and down the riverside path. Once in place, I reached down into the seawall, deep below to where the spell had its roots. It was hard to concentrate with my soaked clothes plastered to my skin, shivering as the rain and wind lashed against me. Even the leather jacket was drenched. A gust of wind tossed my wet hair to the side, and out of the corner of my eye I saw a figure cresting the top of the levee. In spite of the dark and the rain, I knew it wasn’t Ourson.

“Wait.” I said, grabbing Irix’s arm.

He followed my gaze and instantly moved to stand in front of me. It was too late. The flickering light from the aquarium patio had caught the man, and I saw his white hair. Worse, he saw me.

Weaver spat out a stream of Elvish. Irix tensed, his hands curling into fists. The white–haired man wasn’t a demon; he was an elf.
He’s like you
, Jordan had said, and I’d never considered the possibility that she meant Weaver was like my elven half.

Two–and–a–half–million years, and one had finally crossed the gates from Hel. I didn’t have time to ponder the implications of an elven presence among the humans.

“
Yf e–lyffel.
”

The words rolled from Weaver with a burst of power, and the ground beneath me shook. He’d activated the spells — all of them. Trusting Irix to shield me from any attack, I dropped to the ground and pulled, trying to re–direct as much of the spell energy into me as possible. The asphalt moved like living sand under my hands. I felt the supporting rocks and rebar begin to loosen, molecules separating and dissolving.

Oh no you don’t
. Now I wasn’t just trying to absorb the spell, but desperately solidifying the structures beneath me. And it wasn’t just the one spot, it was twenty locations along several miles. I felt like a pulled piece of elastic, stretched and on the edge of coming apart. I couldn’t continue like this. I’d need to make a hard decision to either let some of the spells activate, or leave the barriers weakened and vulnerable to the storm. I just didn’t have enough power, not enough juice to pull this one off.

Irix’s hands rested on my shoulders. I felt his face press against the side of my head. Energy flooded me, saturating every pore and slamming through me into the seawall and beyond. I opened myself wide and took everything he could give, channeling it into the structures across the miles. Cutting through my concentration, I heard Ourson in the distance, shouting something about angels. Angels were the least of my problem right now. If I couldn’t contain these spells, keep the storm barriers intact, there wouldn’t be enough of either of us for the angels to kill.

Stone, sediment, concrete, tiles, complicated polyester netting, sand — my lungs burned, and my head pounded with pain as I recreated everything, right down to the lush Bermuda grass and asphalt on the crown. When it was all over I collapsed, shaking against the ground. Irix’s arms went around me, drawing me backward onto his lap, against the warmth of his body.

“You okay?”

I nodded, my cheek rubbing against his wet shirt. “Did you get the elf?”

“No.” I heard the bitter regret in his voice. “He ran for it, and it was more important that I help you. I’m sure that’s what he was banking on when he activated all the spells at once.”

As much as I wanted to stay and ride out the storm in Irix’s arms, we had a problem. Such a massive display of demon energy wouldn’t have gone unnoticed. And I was willing to bet angels wouldn’t mind a bit of rain if they were hot on the trail of a demon.

38

Y
ou’ve got to get out of here.” I stood, feeling the cold cut through my damp clothes as soon as I was out of Irix’s arms. He still had the scroll. A few words, and he’d be safe from the angels.

The wind had loosened the incubus’ dark hair from its tie and whipped it around his face in wet strands. He looked like a pirate with his soaked, translucent shirt and rain–drenched face — a very sexy pirate.

“I’m not leaving you, Amber. That elf knew what you were.”

“What did he say?” I’d heard the anger under the fast–paced words.

“You don’t want to know. It doesn’t matter, because I’m not leaving you.”

He needed to leave. The nearest gate was hundreds of miles away, and the scroll only transported one. The elf might be a threat to me, but the angels bearing down on us were a huge threat to Irix. I’d rather wait thousands of years for him to return from Hel than see an angel take his head off.

“The elf ran away. His mage, all his supporters are dead. He’s probably already back in Hel. Get out of here.”

Irix frowned. “Even so, I can’t run off and leave you here to face an angel alone.”

I loved him even more. How un–demonic of him to risk his personal safety over and over again to protect me.

“I’m fine. Ourson and the vampires will protect me. I’m only a half–breed, and besides, that gate–guardian seemed to think I was full elf.” Sure enough, Ourson was waving frantically, calling my name and urging me to come with him.

Irix’s mouth thinned into a tight line, his eyes like yellowed stone. “Fooling a gate guardian is one thing, an enforcer angel another. Besides, what kind of demon am I to run away and leave my protégé in the care of vampires?”

“One who stays alive.” I pulled him into my arms and kissed him, loving the taste of rain on his lips. The trickle of energy he’d been transferring to me turned into a river. I gasped against his mouth, feeling as if I’d been lit up from the inside. When we pulled apart, I noticed how tired he looked. Had he given me everything he had, knowing that I would probably need it more than him?

“Please, Irix.” I ran a gentle hand over his burned cheek, touching the muscle that twitched in his jaw. “I’m begging you; use the scroll and go. If you stay and fight this angel, I’ll help you, and we both know how that would turn out.”

I could tell Irix didn’t like this one bit, but it was the only option we had. “Promise me you won’t do anything stupid,” he said. “That you’ll stay with Ourson and let the vampires protect you.”

“I promise.”

Ourson had run over to me and was tugging my arm. I turned from Irix to follow the vampire, letting my hand linger against him as long as I could. “Call me!” I shouted over my shoulder, unable to resist teasing him even while my heart broke.

He laughed, and when I turned around before climbing into Ourson’s car, he was gone.

***

The windshield wipers on the vampire’s blue Corolla beat a frantic tempo as we crawled through the empty streets. Traffic lights flashed red, and water pooled on the asphalt, overwhelming the street gutters. With every gust of wind, the rain sheeted, blurring the world before us into gray.

“Don’t be afraid.” Ourson took one hand off the steering wheel to give my hand a reassuring squeeze before quickly placing it back.

“I’m not.”

We’d had storms like this up in Maryland, just not for as prolonged a period. With the mage dead and Kristin’s group working to downgrade the storm, the rain and wind should have lessened. Instead, the sky seemed to have been whipped into a fury. How bad was this going to get? With a bad storm, the city would be pummeled, but the levees would hold, and we’d all dry out in a few days. But a hurricane?

If only I’d had the time to fix the wetlands and bayous. An image of the dead cypresses reared in my mind, and I felt a slow burn of fury. What kind of elf could possibly do such a thing? A pestilence demon, yes. A selfish, power–hungry human, yes. But this was not what I’d ever thought of when I contemplated my elven half. Maybe the demon inside me wasn’t the only one capable of being a monster.

“I hope this storm dies down soon. Even if it doesn’t, there’s no need to worry. Bliss is stocked with lots of food and fresh water, and we’ve got generators in case we lose power. We’ll keep you safe, Amber. As your friend, I promise it.”

I heard the unsaid portion — that he’d protect me from the angel, protect me as Irix had done. Ourson was a good friend. I glanced at him and saw the lines around his eyes as he stared out the windshield. A huge piece of metal sheeting blew across the road in front of us, and the vampire swerved to avoid it. How terrible would it be if this continued increasing, with the city already weakened by hours of onslaught? Kristin and her group were giving this their all, but their magic may not be enough. I felt the hum of Irix’s energy coursing through me and made a decision.

“Can I borrow your car?”

The vampire slowed to ease through a deep section of water. In a few hours, most of these streets would probably be impassable.

“Uh, yeah. Sure. As soon as the storm passes.”

“No. I mean now. I’ll drop you off at Bliss then I’ve got something to do.”

Ourson risked a quick look at me. “You’re joking. There is no way I’m letting a Yankee tourist run around the city in the middle of a hurricane.”