The Devil You Know (17 page)

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Authors: Marie Castle

BOOK: The Devil You Know
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Fire built slowly in the palms of my clenched fists. My inner beast, which had paced restlessly since this afternoon’s too brief tryst with Jacq, stopped and stilled, watching our new enemy intently through my eyes. She made no move to bat at her cage—a first for run-ins with the demonic. I wasn’t the only one wary after Monday night’s magical smackdown.

But though her presence was still, my demon-half’s magic surged, bubbling fire within my soul…an offer of assistance. I took the power greedily but knew it wouldn’t be enough. I reached for Jacq but she was too distant for my injured mind to touch.

We were on our own.

Ramus gave a mocking half-bow. “How clever, m’lady. I suppose you also know why I’m here.”

“I can make a guess.” Stepping forward, I placed myself in front of Van. I’d seen hell creatures take worse and heal quickly, but the Queen’s jester wasn’t rising, which was concerning. “As my late Grams used to say, ‘It’s either a sign of poor breeding or a complete lack of pride to go where you’re not wanted.’ And you don’t look to be a man who lacks for pride.”

Ramus’s face grew dark. He took a step forward, moving through the tall grass at the woods’ edge. Magic ran like black ink from his fingertips, around his wrists, and up the corded forearms visible beneath his rolled sleeves, reminding me that it was probably not good to piss off the big bad demon-man.

Van laughed then coughed, the sound weak and wet. My healer’s skills told me there was likely blood in his lungs. Ramus halted, fixing the loaded but as yet uncocked crossbow on Van. Behind me, leather scraped against stone as boots pushed against the rough road. I wanted to tell Van to be still, that he was making his injuries worse, but kept silent, leery of giving Ramus any ideas.

Groaning, Van crawled until he lay on his side parallel to the road, facing our enemy. I again moved in front of his heaving chest. Ramus’s crossbow sights returned to me, but that wasn’t my most urgent concern. Heat rolled off Van’s body, warming my bare calves and prickling my skin with unease. Behind that heat was an insidious surge of something else, something colder, darker than the fallen demon’s magic.
Poison
. The extremely pernicious black-magic sort. The arrow had done more than pierce a lung. It had delivered Van unto his death.

Or almost to his death, as the obstinate demon seemed intent on ignoring his imminent demise.

Van’s head popped past my legs. Between short rasping breaths, he eyed his attacker and said, “You, dear Cate, have, to quote the humans, pinned the tail on that
ass
.”

I almost snorted at Ramus’s confused expression but wisely kept my mouth shut.

Van sighed then wheezed out, “Help me to my feet, fair cousin. If I’m to die, I’d like to at least go standing.”

“Yes, Cate.” Ramus’s voice rose, mimicking the injured demon. The crossbow wavered in his hand. “Help Vanguard to his feet.” His voice dropped into that low gravelly rumble. “I want him to see his death coming. Then it’s on to his Queen.” Ramus smiled a truly wicked smile and drew the crossbow’s bolt back. Its string locked in place with a loud click.

“No,” I said flatly, turning my body in a fighting stance, one heel sliding back and lifting until it connected with Van’s chest. I directed my fire to those few inches where our bodies touched. Van tensed but didn’t give me away, though the small pulses of fire I began spearing into his body had to be extremely painful. Unfortunately, I couldn’t dampen his pain. Like letting out only a few select grains of tightly clenched sand, the control needed to push snippets of magic small enough that Ramus wouldn’t sense them was more difficult than just letting a river of power flow between our bodies.

Ramus leveled his crossbow at my chest and arched a brow, voice falsetto high. “
No?
” He tilted his head. “Why ever not?”

I opened my mouth to say something smart, but Van saved me the trouble.

“Because she has more sense than any of us.” Van spat out a mouthful of blood. “Especially those of us who were fool enough to take such as you, a
selenocid,
into our house.” Van’s voice sounded a bit stronger, especially when he slurred the foreign word, but thankfully Ramus didn’t seem to notice.

I tried to concentrate on the two but it was hard. My temples throbbed in sync with the fire flowing between us, reminding me I was too weak and too injured to be attempting this. But there was no other way. Because of the poison, Van’s healing was slow. He was too close to dying. If I stopped—or rather when I stopped as I would soon have to or risk burning out—Van would only have a few minutes before the poison took control.

Ramus took another step forward then halted, face twisting in anger. He growled, “What do you know of my people, mongrel?”

To a small extent, my magic tied me to Van’s mind. I didn’t know what he was thinking, but I had a general idea of his emotions. Surprisingly, my new cousin’s strongest feeling at Ramus’s insult was satisfaction, so I made no move to stop the verbal brawl. If Vanguard had a plan, I was all for it…as long as it didn’t involve splattering my brains along the roadside.

Van spat out more blood. Or rather, the dark viscous fluid looked like blood, but I knew it teemed with the poison my magic was forcing out of his punctured lung. By now, my ears were ringing with the strain of using so much magic, so I almost missed Van’s snorted, nearly flippantly stated response.

“I know plenty. Your kind always was for using such petty tricks as poison and illusions. Like you, those of the Gray Moon were not strong enough to rely upon their own magic. That’s why your black-winged brethren were easily overthrown by a stronger house.”

Angry, Ramus took a step forward, then another. He was now to the road’s edge with less than ten feet of gravel separating us. His deep voice rumbled, “How wrong you are. I choose this weapon out of
consideration
to offer you and the girl a swifter, less painful death than what my brethren, the ones even now savagely killing your vampire guards, had wished for. But if you so desire it I’ll show you who is stronger and in doing so will make your death last.” Smiling in anticipation, he tossed the crossbow away. It clattered on the roadside. The feathered bolt flew out, sinking into a dark pine somewhere behind us with a soft thud.

Van’s sense of satisfaction grew though it was sharply tinged with sadness. Both emotions were concerning. Yes, Ramus was now unarmed—an event Van had obviously hoped for. But the danger had only increased. And Van knew it.

The magic in the air shifted, wrapping in black currents around Ramus, distracting me from Van. But my attention came back to him when I tried to withdraw my healing fire and he desperately grasped my power with what was left of his own. A surprisingly strong hand gripped my calf, his nails biting deep. I hissed with the pain but otherwise didn’t react physically. Van was too weak to withstand the slap-down he deserved, and even if he could’ve taken it, I was too distracted by his thoughts to provide proper chastisement.

With his magic interlocked with mine, Van’s intentions became clear. He’d planned to draw one massive last-ditch blast of magic from us both, draining our powers to destroy Ramus. All to save his Queen.

Such a noble, self-sacrificing…stupidly suicidal…plan.

One I wanted no part of. I was in no mood for dying, and I hadn’t just used the majority of my power to save Van’s hide merely to let him throw that effort away. With an almost audible snap, I wrenched my fire back, barely restraining myself from using its tail end to magically bop the fallen demon’s nose. At the same time, I set a mental stopwatch, knowing with the removal of my healing power we would need to get Van help quickly. Before we were fully disconnected, I felt his angry resignation. It left a bitter foul taste in the back of my mouth. At that moment, Van might have killed me, if he hadn’t been too weak…and if his former fellow demon-in-arms hadn’t been about to save him the trouble.

As we watched, black magic whipped like a cyclone around Ramus. He growled and ripped his shirt away, revealing a wiry chest. His shoulders rolled back, and he arched his neck, howling into the sky. His face transformed. Eyes turned black. Bones rearranged under darkening skin, forehead rising. Fangs jutted from his top jaw. This was the horror so many had mistakenly thought vampires became when they fed. If humans only knew their nightmares truly existed but were kept distant by the spilled blood of guardians who died to keep the door bridging their world and ours closed…

Making good use of Ramus’s distraction, Van used what little magic he had left to vaporize the arrow in his back, cauterizing the wound in the process. He groaned, and I winced inwardly. The action had to be unimaginably painful, especially now that Van no longer had my magic dampening the pain. If the barbed bolt hadn’t been coated in poison, I would have recommended waiting until a healer could remove it. But the poison was the greater of two evils. Though in great pain, Van had just lengthened his life by a few precious seconds. He sighed softly in relief, signaling the task was done—and not a moment too soon.

Ramus loosed another pained howl and arched his back further. A pair of purplish black-gray bat-like wings emerged from his body.

A pair of very, very
small
wings.

I couldn’t help it. I laughed…and kept laughing. The monster before me was now a good seven and a half feet tall. His width had almost doubled. His leathery skin was the same ashy color of his wings, and his black pants strained to contain muscled legs. He should have been a truly frightening sight. His wings ruffled in a slight breeze, and I doubled over, wrapping my hands around my waist.

“What amuses you so, witch?” Ramus hissed. Rocks skittered as he moved onto the road.

I laughed harder though I could feel my own inner beast’s confusion. I started to share with her the image of the little cupid wings on the big bad man, but I didn’t think she would find it quite so amusing. And she certainly wouldn’t understand the corresponding image of a bear in a tutu on a unicycle.

“Cate?” Van asked, voice low and tight with pain. He tugged urgently at the hem of my dress.

I kept laughing.

“I asked you a question, witch!” Ramus yelled, rushing forward.

Van’s grip on my leg tightened, and I felt the brush of his fire, another offer of assistance. The unexpected gift dissolved my anger at the fallen demon but I couldn’t accept. That last bit of magic was all that kept Van from death’s arms.

I braced for impact. Ramus’s cold power reached me just before his body did. He skidded to a halt inches away, grabbed the front of my dress, and lifted me upward. Realizing my deception, Ramus’s eyes widened. His hand moved to block mine.

My knife sank deeply into his abdomen, spraying cold blood against my chest. Its silver-tipped blade ran with the fire I’d carefully hoarded, burning into his body. More blood dripped onto the hand clenching the knife’s hilt, and I smiled. But his returning smile made mine slip. While one hand held me close, the other grabbed my chin, forcing my gaze down.

“Look,” he growled.

As I watched, blackness seeped out of the wound. I tried to twist the blade but it wouldn’t move. The blackness kept coming, pouring over the knife, suffocating my fire, chilling the blade until I was forced to let go or risk my fingers freezing to the hilt. Before my eyes, black magic pushed the knife from the dark-skinned body, and it fell with a soft thud to the ground, barely missing my toes. Ramus’s skin knitted together with only the faintest purple line to show the weapon’s path.

Seeing my expression, Ramus chuckled, the dark deep sound frightening me more than anything else I’d seen or heard tonight. He moved his hand to my throat, dragging me upward until we were almost eye to eye. Then he turned me until I stood on my tiptoes, facing Cassie’s green mirrored wards. His free arm moved to my waist in a cruel imitation of a lover’s embrace, drawing me close, forcing me to feel his cold bare chest against my back. His punishing grip around my throat made looking away impossible.

“Not so funny now, hmm, witch?” His grip tightened.

Breath rattled in my throat. Panicking, I raised fire-coated hands to grip his black wrist. Our dueling magics sparked. Ramus took a step forward, kicking a rising Van in the head as he stabbed with the bloody arrow for Ramus’s knees. Van bounced into the barrier, which flickered, briefly revealing a frightened Cassie standing just beyond the green shield. Then the magic surged back, hiding her and reflecting the crazed hungry look in Ramus’s dark eyes.

Van moaned once then went still. The clock running in my head had almost run out. I prayed he was merely unconscious and not dead. Then movement drew my eyes to the mirror and I had no time to worry for anyone but myself.

Ramus’s black magic slithered from his hand, creeping up my pale neck, heading unerringly toward my mouth. Licking his lips eagerly, he hissed in my ear, “There’s nothing better than feeling the tear of a woman’s claws, especially a little demoness’s, and then seeing her face when I turn the tables and rip her to shreds from the inside out.” Ramus’s lips brushed my ear as his voice dropped. “You’re no demoness. But your death will be just as sweet. And I plan to savor it. Don’t think that other witch, the one hiding behind this pretty shield, will save you. When I’m done with you, she’ll be next. We’ll leave no witnesses to the Queen’s demise and no takers for the throne.” A black tongue snaked out, licking the side of my throat, and the hand at my waist moved, slowly inching my dress upward.

I shuddered, gasping for breath, the chill of his magic not as frightening as the dark intent in his eyes. Ramus stilled, his tongue swiping at my throat again. I closed my eyes, silently praying for a miracle…or a swift death, wondering what Jacq and I could have had if we’d been granted more time. My thoughts flew backward, reliving the days since we’d met. At the corner of my eye, a tear formed but I willed myself not to let it drop.

This demon didn’t deserve to see it.

* * *

Sometime after, before, and in-between

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