Of Witches and Warlocks: The Demon Kiss (32 page)

My eyes were not prepared for what awaited
me, and I had to purposely stop my chin from dropping in amazement
at the sight they beheld.

I was standing in the second story of an
opulently designed penthouse. A large rotunda was over my head,
made entirely of stained glass, which accented the giant wood and
wrought iron curving staircase that twisted down to the floor
beneath.

The flooring was made entirely of marble, and
the walls were covered in thick moldings and large paintings,
depicting many scenes of magic and mayhem throughout several
periods of time. A gigantic crystal chandelier hung from the center
of the ceiling and down into the circle of the winding
staircase.

I noticed another set of carved double doors
just down the curved hall from mine and wondered if it led to
Damien’s room. I shivered at the thought of him sleeping so close
to my quarters, but I certainly wasn’t going to go exploring there
to find out if I was correct.

Turning away, I walked across the hallway and
placed a hand on the smooth, thick railing. Quietly, I tiptoed down
to the first floor, my bare feet not making a sound against the
cool stone as I moved along.

The bottom of the staircase revealed a plush
sitting room to my right, which was decorated with many antiques,
and a large dining room which was adjacent, with a table that could
probably seat twenty, to my left.

I turned in the direction of the dining room,
assuming that the door beyond it must lead to the kitchen. I was
not disappointed.

I entered the room through a swinging door
and found myself in an immaculate kitchen that was fully equipped
with the latest appliances and luxuries. Any chef would have truly
been proud to work in this space.

It was then I noticed Damien was sitting at a
small table over in the kitchen nook, with a newspaper in his
hands, and a glass filled with blood on the surface in front of
him.

He looked up casually as I entered.

“Ah! You finally decided to grace us with
your presence this morning. How delightful!” he said, as he eyed my
bedraggled appearance, shaking out a wrinkle in the paper as he
spoke.

I pretended he didn’t exist as I walked over
to the refrigerator and opened it, moving past without looking at
him.

“I have good news,” he continued, ignoring my
attempt at rudeness. “Vance left Rocky Point this morning and is on
his way back to Sedona.”

This did perk my interest, but I didn’t want
to rise to his bait, so I kept my mouth shut, even though it was
difficult.

Damien folded the paper and placed it back on
the table in front of him, while he continued to watch me.

I kept looking through the fridge, trying not
to notice the heat of his stare upon my back.

“Yes, my little spies say he’s quite frantic
right now,” he went on. “Apparently, there’s been a lot of arguing
between him and your father over how to properly handle the
situation.”

I had to work hard not to show any emotions
now, and I actually bit the side of my mouth a little, trying to
keep myself from speaking out.

Locating a pitcher with orange juice in it, I
pulled it out and set it on the granite island. Then I walked over
to the cupboards and began searching for a glass to pour it
into.

“Vance would have made a good boy scout,”
Damien continued, and I could feel him looking at me still, though
I didn’t return his gaze. “He’s following the bread crumb trail
quite nicely I think.”

I finished pouring the juice into the glass
and set the pitcher back on the counter. I walked right up to
Damien, picking an apple out of the fruit bowl in front of him,
before turning to walk out of the room.

My knees were shaking by the time I made it
through the swinging door, and I paused for a moment to lean up
against the wall for support, breathing a little heavily since I
had been holding my breath unknowingly.

My emotions raced through me.

Vance was on his way, a little bit closer to
me. He was coming. Somehow he would find me. I was both thrilled
and terrified all in the same moment.

Pushing away from the wall, I quickly walked
back up the stairs to return to my room. I shut and sealed the door
behind me, before walking back over to the enormous bed.

I placed the juice and the apple on the
nightstand, feeling unable to eat or drink at this moment, due to
the sudden churning in my stomach. I climbed back into the bed,
pulled the covers up to my chin, and began to sob.

Conflicting thoughts rushed through my head.
I was so torn. I wanted him to come for me, and I wanted him to run
as far away as he could possibly get, never looking back.

“It’s a tricky little situation, isn’t it,
Portia?” Damien’s voice came from the direction of the doorway.

I jumped and turned toward the sound, to see
him leaning casually against the frame, the door wide open next to
him.

“How did you …?” I trailed off in
surprise.

“You need to remember this is my house,” he
said as he pushed away from the wall and came to sit next to me on
the edge of the bed. “Everything in here responds first to my
powers, not yours. I’m sorry if it bothers you.” he said,
apologetically, as he reached a hand out and placed it gently on my
knee, squeezing it slightly as if he were trying to comfort me.

This time I shoved his hand off me and
scooted away from him, up against the headboard.

“Don’t touch me!” I glared at him, revolted
by his very touch.

“And why not?” he asked. The light of humor,
and something much darker, flashed in his eyes. “Where do you think
the very flesh you crave to touch so much came from? If it weren’t
for me, your precious love wouldn’t even exist.”

“He’s nothing like you,” I spat back at him,
feeling my insides begin to shake uncontrollably.

“Au contraire, he’s everything like me, which
is something I intend on proving to you when the time comes,” he
stated flatly.

“Why do you want him so badly?” I asked,
staring straight at him, locking my gaze against his. “Aren’t your
precious minions enough for you? Why must you take him, too?”

He looked at me hard for a moment, as if
considering whether or not to answer me, before he spoke again.

“Because it isn’t right for the son to be
more powerful than the father,” he replied, as he stood and paced
out into the floor.

“What are you talking about?” I asked,
exasperated. “You’ve sucked the powers out of how many witches?
What could Vance possibly have that you don’t, besides some common
sense, that is?” I added, hoping he would be offended by my
remarks.

He laughed an irritated laugh then.

“He doesn’t even know his own power; it’s
wasted on him,” he replied, with a slight sneer.

“Sorry, I’m not following,” I said,
confused.

“You really want to know?” he said turning to
look at me. “Then I’ll tell you. He replenishes!”

I looked at him with a blank stare; not
comprehending what it was that he was trying to tell me.

“His magic is unstoppable,” he continued. “I
could perform an exchange on him a thousand times, and his powers
would regenerate themselves every single time. He has an endless
supply of magic that will never run out.”

I felt sick as I wondered if this were really
true.

“How could you possibly know that for sure?”
I asked. “There’s been no way for you to even test your
theory.”

“When he was a child, I used to drink from
him constantly,” Damien stated. “He never became weak or ever lost
any of the control over his powers. I just assumed it was the same
with all witches and warlocks. But then I started drinking from
others, and it wasn’t the same. Their blood was thinner, plainer. I
had to drink a gallon from someone else to get even remotely close
to the power that half a pint of Vance’s blood generated. I knew
then he was something special, but before I could do any testing on
him, Krista ran with him. I began searching everywhere for him,
desperately wanting to get him back. In all my travels the world
over, I’ve never met one magical creature who had even a quarter of
Vance’s power.”

It all made sense to me then.

“You want to turn him into a demon, to serve
you and keep replenishing all your powers, don’t you?” I asked.

He shrugged.

“That’s part of my plan,” he said with a
small smile. “All you really need to know is that he’ll become one
of the most magnificent warlocks the world has ever known, and
he’ll be second only to me. I can teach him everything I know, and
together we could literally rule the world with an unspeakable, not
to mention unstoppable, power.”

I covered my mouth with my hand, feeling like
I was going to vomit at the idea. Then another frightening thought
occurred to me.

“Why are you telling me all this?” I asked as
I slowly removed my hand from my face, watching him carefully.

“Because you’re the brilliant pawn in all
this.” He smiled as he stalked back toward me. “You’re the only
thing Vance really wants in this world, and I’ll be the one to give
it to him.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, tasting the fear
in the back of my throat as I swallowed hard.

“It’s simple really,” he replied, sitting
back on the bed next to me. “If he agrees to let me finish his
conversion, then you get to live; if not, he loses you forever, and
I’ll turn him anyway.”

“He’ll never agree to it,” I said shaking my
head as my eyes began to water, knowing in my heart that Vance
would indeed do whatever he felt he had to do in order to protect
me.

“Yes, he will,” Damien said, looking very
sure of himself as he leaned in closer to my face. “Because if he
refuses, I’ll be the one who takes you away from him, in every way
he can imagine.”

He grabbed me by both arms then and pulled me
to him hard as his lips smashed into my face, kissing me full on
the mouth.

I fought against him ineffectively, as he had
me pinned tight in between the headboard and his body. The harder I
struggled against him, the harder he pushed against me, and I
sensed that he seemed to be enjoying it.

I gagged, feeling the bile rise up in the
back of my throat as I felt him thrust his tongue in my mouth. I
used the only weapon I had, my teeth, and bit him as hard as I
could.

He jerked away from me with a small yelp, and
I saw that I had injured him. A trickle of blood welled up in his
mouth and ran down his lower lip. He lifted his finger to touch the
spot gently, pulling his hand away as he examined it, before
pulling out a handkerchief and dabbing the blood away.

He looked at me without any emotion now, his
expression like ice for a moment, and I wondered if he might kill
me right now after all.

“Like father, like son, eh, Portia?” he said,
with a sudden laugh as he stood up and walked to the door, pausing
to turn and look at me. “Who’d have thought you’d be the one to
stir up the lust in both of us?”

He turned and smiled a purely evil smile
before he walked out, closing the door behind him.

I jumped from the bed and ran into the
bathroom, slipping to my knees on the wet floor I had forgotten I
had left behind the night before, sliding precariously across the
tile. I crawled the rest of the way over to the toilet and heaved
the contents of my already empty stomach over and over again,
uncontrollably.

When I was finally able to stop retching, I
stood up and shakily made my way over to the glass shower. I opened
the door, hugging the wall as I climbed inside, clothing and
all.

I turned the water on as hot as I could stand
it and sat on the seat, sobbing in horrible spasms, as I took a bar
of soap and scrubbed at my skin, clothing, everything that I could
reach, wanting desperately to get the feel and the taste of him off
my body and out of my mouth.

“Vance! Where are you? I need you!” I called
out in my mind, wishing desperately that he could hear me but
knowing he was much too far away for that to be possible.

“Portia? I’m here!” his voice came back, and
I jumped against the glass before sliding into the bottom of the
shower in shock at the sound.

I must be dreaming, or worse I was starting
to hallucinate.

“Vance?” I called out again, holding my
breath in fear that he wouldn’t answer, that my brain was playing
some horrible trick on me.

“I’m here, Portia!” he called back to me
again, and I could hear the desperation in his voice. “I’m on an
airplane just coming into Las Vegas from Phoenix! I didn’t even
think I was close enough for you to hear me yet.”

Phoenix! Apparently Damien’s spies had been
wrong. Either that or he had lied to me, which was always a very
real possibility.

“Hurry, Vance!” I sobbed, this time in
relief, knowing now he really was on his way to me.

“Portia, are you okay? Has he harmed you?”
his frantic voice asked me, and I could feel his great concern over
my wellbeing.

“He kissed me … hard. He tried to … tried to
….” I began sobbing even harder, my tears mixing in with shower
water as it ran down my face.

The anger burst immediately through him, and
I could feel it strongly. It was a rage that burned more powerfully
than anything I had ever felt or experienced in my life.

“I’ll kill him!” he yelled, his emotions
coursing through me as they ran wildly through him, and I knew he
meant every word.

“I’m all right,” I hiccupped, trying to
explain, knowing I needed him to be thinking calmly and rationally
right now. “He didn’t … hurt me … he only threatened to. I bit him,
and he stopped, but he says if you don’t join him willingly, he’ll
take me away from you in every way possible.”

This perhaps was not the best thing I could
be telling him right now. I could feel his fury as it seethed
through every cell of his being, like little flames igniting every
particle in him until he was a giant firework, ready to
explode.