Defying Instinct (Demon Instinct Series)

By Jaye
A. Jones

Defying Instinct

By Jaye A. Jones

Copyright: Jaye A. Jones
Published: June 2013
Publisher: Jaye A. Jones

The right of Jaye Jones to be identified as author of this Work has been
asserted by her in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs
and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in
retrieval system, copied in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical,
photocopying, recording or otherwise transmitted without written permission
from the publisher. You must not circulate this book in any format.

Disclaimer:
The persons, places, and all things
otherwise corporeal or incorporeal mentioned in this novel are figments of the
author’s imagination. Any resemblance to anything or anyone dead or alive is
unintentional. Please, this is fiction.

The
woman on the other side of the check-out counter bared her teeth, the
expression pairing perfectly with the insult she just hissed at me.

“I understand
your frustration, ma’am,” my demon half cringed, but the controlled, customer
service smile never left my lips.  “There’s just nothing I can do for you right
now.”

The demon
part of my genetic makeup sent me images of a few things I could do for her
right now.  Smash the cash register over her frail head.  Strategically staple
her mouth shut.  Stab her throat with my pencil maybe. 

“That’s
not good enough, missy.  I was promised my books would arrive
today
. 
I’m too old to be waiting around for incompetent—”

“Ma’am,”
I said, easily keeping my tone pleasant.  “The Bookstore has no control over
deliveries.  If you would like to leave your name and phone number, I’ll be
happy to have the owner call you.”

The
lady scanned my face for the third time, showing the vague disgust and morbid
curiosity most people showed when they looked at me. 

People’s
reactions to my looks were fascinating, mostly because their expressions were
all so similar.  Squinty eyes, gaping mouths.  Why did they always look like
they expected the view to change?  I wasn’t getting any prettier, no matter how
long they squinted and gaped.

“Fine. 
I’ll be telling him about your attitude though,” she looked down at my nametag that
clearly said
Savannah
in bold letters, “
missy.
  See what he
thinks about how I’ve been treated.”

I
put a notepad and my pencil—
not
into her throat—into the lady’s hand as
I ran through our brief conversation in my head.  My attitude was flawless. 
Fake, forced, and offensive to my demon half, but I never once let the demon
whispers in my head influence my actions.

When
the lady told him about our interaction, Dad would be pleased.

She
scribbled furiously, then thrust the pencil and notepad at me with a disgusted
twist of her lips.

“Mr.
Cole will be by later this evening.  I’ll have him call you right away,” I told
her, my voice light and oh so phony.  She huffed, then stomped toward the
door. 

I
tucked the woman’s note on the pile Dad would pick up when he stopped by, but I
wished I didn’t have to sic that awful person on him.  Though, she’d almost
certainly be nicer to him.  People always were.

My
dad, Victor Cole, was a good human.  He cared for me.  Maybe not in the way
others would recognize as caring.  But I knew he did.  When I was little, he
told me I was part demon.  A half-caste.  He didn’t have to tell me at all.  I
never would have known why the voice in my head wanted to maim and destroy when
all I wanted was to be ignored.

The
lady huffed again as she barged out of the store, but my eyes remained straight
ahead. 
Humans
.  I knew my opinion was biased, filtered through twenty years
of being treated like the lowest of the low.  Not because I was a half-caste. 
Only my dad knew what I was.  People looked at me with repugnance because I’ve
always been ugly. 

After
lightly touching my too-small nose, then my too-big chin, I dropped my hand. 
The dull hair scratching my neck stayed coarse and frizzy no matter what
shampoo or styling product I tried.  My eyes were sunken, colorless, and too
narrow.  Big ears, pasty pale skin, and a body people would say was a misshapen
boy’s if they were forced to take a guess.

I
was aware of my regrettable appearance.  The way people stared should have
bothered me.  It didn’t.  Not much did.  My demon instinct plagued me with
thoughts of violence, but that was just in my head. 

I’d
grown accustomed to living in complete contradiction.

My repulsive
looks were a glamour courtesy of my full-caste demon mother.  I could comfort
the memory of a young girl getting endlessly teased by her classmates by saying
it was only a disguise. 

Constant,
permanent, never ever wavering camouflage.

The
memory of that ugly, little girl flipped me off in my mind.  It made the edges
of my mouth lift a little.

I
watched the front door to The Bookstore long after the lady left, the image of
her blood on my hands replacing the amusing thought of a younger me. 

Inhaling
deeply, tamping down the gruesome, demon desires, I scanned my small bookstore
and counted the remaining patrons.  A few regulars wasting time.  I’d get to
kick them out soon.  Benn would be here in minutes.  It wouldn’t be long before
I could shed the fake smile and rehearsed script.  Another day was almost
over.  If I could make it a little longer without…

The
bell chimed against the wooden pane of the front door, drawing my attention to
the two males who entered.  The realization of what they were struck me even
though they wore almost undetectable glamour.

I
was the only unfortunate with flawless, steady, hideous glamour. 

These
demons were stunning.  I could tell which of the six castes they were too. 
Hammer demons.  Warriors.  The soldiers in the Underrealm. 

The
tiniest hint of fire curled inside the demon part of my mind, but that was the
only change in me as I eyed and considered the males.

Both
appeared broad, tan, tall, and not much older than me.  Like all full-caste
demons’ glamour, their lack of imperfection was too inhuman.  One had shaggy
brown hair.  The other had hair like pale gold, and a pretty deliberate sneer I
somehow knew was meant for me, even though he never looked my way.

I
could see the subtle sheen along their skin thanks to my slightly-above-human
eyesight.  It looked like Christmas tinsel hitting the light, but then I’d
blink and their skin was normal again. 

Full
humans didn’t see the tinsel, but they usually knew a demon when they were near
one.  If The Bookstore was in a small town somewhere, patrons might have
started inching towards the door.  But this was St. Louis, Missouri, a big
enough city to mean demons were common. 

Besides,
Demonology
was
a required class in junior high school, no matter where
people grew up.  It wasn’t like demons hadn’t always been around.

After
the two Hammer demons thoroughly scanned the store for possible threats—something
only my demon half understood—a third demon swaggered in. 

Unlike
the others, the third male’s muted grey and unaffecting eyes were glued to me. 
He appeared a bit older with creamy olive skin, pure black hair, and light eyes
that spoke of mixed race, kind of like my best friend Benn.  I didn’t know
which caste he was, but something about him was different.

Each
demon surveyed The Bookstore while spreading out, one along each wall and the
third directly across the room from me.  I tracked the black haired one, my
demon half sensing he was the male in charge.

As
if he could tell what I felt, he lifted an eyebrow, and smiled.

Knock,
knock.

I
swallowed.  The male voice was inside my head.  The demon across the room was
following protocol, asking to telepath with me.  Instinctively, I opened the
mental door, inviting him inside.  I should have been scared or uncomfortable,
but was simply curious.  Never had a full-caste demon asked to telepath with me
before.

Until
this moment, I hadn’t even known I could telepath.  Demonology books said
half-castes couldn’t.

You
know what I am?

My
eyebrows rose.  It was weirdly easy to speak to someone like this.  It should
have felt at least unfamiliar, not completely effortless.

The
demon across the room nodded, and his friends stopped, one on either side of
the store, with hands behind their backs and a rigid stance, like the soldiers
they were.  No human was inching towards the door, so they must not have
thought they were acting strangely.  But I did.  These three full-caste demons
could, within the next minute, annihilate the store and devour each and every
customer before they knew what hit them.

That
hint of fire inside my mind glinted, causing smoke to wisp, then die.

We
don’t eat humans
, the demon said,
gleaning the thoughts I hadn’t been smooth enough to hide.

How
can you telepath with me?  You don’t look like a Razer demon.
 

I
didn’t look like one either, but my mother had been a Razer.  Only demons of
the same caste could telepath, or so I’d been taught. 

No,
I’m something else.

His
grey irises flashed silver, making my pulse uncharacteristically spike.  And I
knew. 

Tempter
demon.  A few decades ago, when people still used the old demon names, he’d be
called an Incubus.

I’d
never seen a Tempter face-to-face before.  For obvious reasons, I expected them
to be gorgeous, powerfully built, and almost impossible to look at for extended
periods of time.  Like looking at the sun.  Pure heat.

This
demon, whose name he allowed me to pluck from his thoughts, was Grayson.  And I
knew of him.  If I were the type to drool over celebrities, then that would be
the appropriate response to being in Grayson’s presence.

Grayson
the Tempter was one of the Royal’s advisors.  I didn’t keep up with the gossip
magazines that documented the six advisor’s every mundane move, but I did know
their names.  As the current Underrealm Royal, Nikolai had an appointed demon
from each caste who lived and worked Up Above, in the human world.  I recited
the advisors to myself.  Matteo the Razer, Apollo the Hammer, Kristoff the
Sorcerer, Mischief demon Stratton, Reaper demon Greta, and the Tempter,
Grayson.  I’d have to live in a locked dungeon not to know them. 

And
one was standing in my bookstore, staring at me.

There
wasn’t anything that interesting about Grayson except his steady, stony stare
didn’t waver when he looked at my less than pleasant features.  No gaping mouth
and squinting eyes.

But
what I saw wasn’t him.  The average looking male whose face didn’t twist up in
disgust when looking at me was just a glamour.

On
the inside, I was sure he saw me the same way as everyone else.

I
didn’t think demons of different castes could telepath
, I thought back, easily hiding my analysis of his
looks and celebrity.

I
suppose they don’t teach…hmm…
accurate
demon history in your human classrooms.

His
internal voice was teasing.  It made some dormant part of me stir slightly, but
I didn’t know what it was.  The burning on the tips of my big ears and the
swirl of something foreign inside my misshapen body made me uncomfortable.  I
may have been female, but I was far from feminine.  And it wasn’t just the
looks I’d been saddled with since infancy.  I was lacking some fundamental
quality that was evidently a requirement in mating. 

I
understood that certain physical qualities were intrinsically attractive.  I
didn’t understand attraction.  That wasn’t what I was feeling now either. 
These were notorious Tempter tricks.  My body felt strange because he told it
to. 

The
violation offended my demon half.  She fumed.

Anxious
to have this interaction over with, I asked,
is there a point to your
Hammers casing the joint, or are you just here to mess with me?

Out
of the corner of my eye, I could have sworn one of the glamour-masked Hammer
demons smirked, but when I turned to see, his soldier face was blank.

We’re
going to be in the vicinity for a few days.  Thought offering a polite
introduction would be…wise.

More
demon protocol.

But
I had no status in the demon world.  I wasn’t known, had no acquaintances among
them.  I didn’t look like what I was, and even if I did, half-castes,
especially ones who chose to live as human, were considered void.  Null. 
Benign.  Less interesting than humans.  Unless they were ambitious enough to
pursue status and a name.  And I wasn’t.

Thank
you for the courtesy
, I telepathed,
amused by how my internal voice was just as fake and forced as my regular
voice.

Grayson
smiled, and the tinsel of his glamour shimmered, drawing my eyes to his mouth,
his lusciously bitable lips, his sharp, white canines that promised pain along
with sweet, hot pleasure.  My body trembled for him, and heat shot through me.

The
next instant, the image was gone, the shot of heat a memory.  His canines were
short and blunt, once again hidden behind a veil of normalcy, but the tremble kept
vibrating up and down my spine.

Those
thoughts and feelings hadn’t been mine.  They were too alien to be my own.

Dirty,
manipulative, Tempter tricks.  Fire hinted and smoke coiled around each
thought.

To
my surprise, the cash register bang-rang as I slammed it shut after a
transaction I’d made for a boy without even knowing it.  Studied, customer
service smile fully in place, I handed the human the book he bought and watched
patiently as he struggled to stuff it into his overloaded school bag while
stealing morbidly curious glances at my face.