Demetrius (8 page)

She blinked to keep her tears in place. It had been a grand time. She’d been too naïve to know her parents didn’t get along, just knew she was the center of her father’s world. She had felt valuable to her mother but not treasured.

He must’ve seen her tears because his voice softened. “What changed his behavior?”

“When my mother left. He became restrictive, overbearing, demanding my virtue. He lured only human women through the woods to feed me and wiped their minds.” She blew out a breath. “It was stifling. I seriously rebelled during my teenage years. He caught me once, sneaking out. After that, I felt so guilty at the fright I gave him that I quit doing it.” A red light gave her a reprieve from concentrating on the road. “That lasted only a few months. There’s only so much web-surfing a girl can do before she needs to experience life, you know?”

She glanced at him, his handsome profile staring stonily out the windshield. No, he didn’t know. She’d read his story herself: golden boy, sent to the best school, prepped to become the next councilmember.

“Anyway,” she continued, “I decided that while I needed to get out, meet people, live life, I could respect his most urgent wish that I remain celibate until I mate. When I sneak away, it’s mostly to human joints. I try to feed on mostly human blood, so I don’t…get carried away. Working with the elderly keeps father mollified that I’m not getting kinky with anyone.”

Demetrius said nothing, but Callista didn’t get the impression he was ignoring her. Quite the opposite. He seemed like he was putting a very complicated mental puzzle together.

When he finally spoke, he asked, “When did your mother leave?” 

“Seventeen years ago, almost to the day. My twenty-fifth birthday is in two days, it was the night after my eighth birthday that they argued. The next morning, she was gone.”

She concentrated on the road, but she felt him staring at her.

“What was their fight about?”

“The normal, I guess. He never loved her, she thought he was weak. I remember Father screaming ‘how could you do that to her?’ I assumed they were talking about me, but I was a kid. I thought every fight was about me.”

She got the silent treatment again. They were almost to her place, winding down the poorly maintained road through the trees.

When the rundown mansion appeared, Demetrius sat forward. “This is your home?”

His disgusted tone rankled her. “Yes, it’s the home I’ve helped care for since my mother ran off with all our money.”

“And your father had to pay his council earnings to McFeely.”

“Who?”

Demetrius smiled faintly. “It’s what Abram McPherson is called. I hear it’s very descriptive of his personality. He’s the one who your father was paying.”

Despite the impending doom of bringing a male home to her overly protective father, Callista giggled. “Father was being blackmailed by a vampire called McFeely.”

Demetrius chuckled next to her. “We all have our secret shame.”

Her laughter faded, but she still had a smile on her face. “You know mine. I’m a broke virgin vampire, and now we both know my father’s. What’s yours, vomiting after making girls come?”

He choked on a laugh. “It most certainly is not. You should know, princess. I’m shameless.”

Chapter Eight

A rundown garage door rattled open reminding Demetrius that Callista had grown up in this massive shack. Structurally, it appeared sound, but he hoped from the shutters hanging by a screw that her quarters were below ground.

She deserved better. Children shouldn’t suffer for the misdeeds of their parents, and hers had certainly been up to something. Too many coincidences: her missing mother, Edgar’s overprotectiveness, Malachim, the sulfur taint to her blood. He had a ton of clues and no way to arrange them.

Callista hit the button for the garage door, but the light above the car kept flashing.

Her shoulders slumped, and she climbed out. He got out and watched her flick a lever and lower the door manually.

Huh. He didn’t know garage doors did that.

Dusting off her hands, she squared her shoulders. “Ready?”

Inclining his head, he followed her into the mansion.

The inside wasn’t as bad as he’d been prepared for. Clean and well-maintained, it had a dated look, but retained much of its former elegance. Warmth emanated from the stairwell. Demetrius smelled a rare smell for a vampire home—wood ash.

“You have a fireplace and you actually use it?” It was a happy day in the vampire world when they hadn’t had to rely on open flame for heat. Vampires lit up like a sparkler when hit with fire
. 

“It’s cheaper and we’re surrounded by fuel. You get used to it,” she whispered, heading down a flight of stairs.

They reached the landing when an older male flew into the depressed level that served as the main living area.

“Callista!” Edgar’s eyes flashed between the two of them.

“Father.” Her stance stiffened. Demetrius could sense her fear. “Um, this is Demetrius.”

Red shaded Edgar’s face, his nostrils flared. Callista backed into Demetrius, a movement noticed by her father.

Edgar’s eyes glowed a deep burgundy. “Don’t you
dare
defile my daughter.”

Demetrius held his hands up. The color in the male’s eyes told him the vampire was in charge, not Malachim. “I’m here to talk.”

Edgar blinked, his focus back on his daughter and the fang marks at her neck. “Why would you bring him into this mansion? Of all people? He
cannot
touch you again.”

“Father—”

“Why does her blood taste like sulfur and cook me from the inside out?” Demetrius’ instincts said he didn’t have much time; he needed to get to the point.

The male’s mouth gaped. He blinked like a beached guppy.

“What did her mother do to her that had you so scared you had to kill her?”

Callista gasped and spun toward him. “How can you accuse my father of that?”

Any red in Edgar’s face drained. Defeat registered, or perhaps it was resignation. He must have known this day would eventually come. “I didn’t kill her because I was scared. I killed her to protect Callista.”

Callista pivoted back to Edgar, her face just as pale as his, her eyes full of dread. “Father?”

“She bound you to that thing...” Edgar’s eyes darkened. Demetrius was losing him to the demon and both males knew it. “Please, if you defile her, it’ll be her death.”

Blackness took over. Soulless evil eyes took the place of the enraged, scared father. A deep, disturbing chuckle emanated from Edgar’s body. “Demetrius Devereux. I’ve heard so much about you.”

“Malachim.”

Edgar’s mouth stretched wide in a sinister smile. “My reputation precedes me.”

“Not really. You’re just not very subtle.” Angering the beast may not be the best idea, but Demetrius wanted to throw him off.

The smile turned into a snarl. “The girl belongs to us.”

“
The girl
belongs to no one.” Callista said firmly.

Malachim laughed, a deep boom that echoed ominously through room. “Think again, girl. Your mother sold you to us. Power-hungry wench, that one.”

“She wouldn’t,” she declared. Her words were spoken with more conviction than her body language suggested.

The demon laughed heartily. “Why do you think she had you? To raise a helpless whelp in the name of love?” His black eyes rolled. “Such a human thought. This world needs demons to wipe that weak stain off the earth. Your mother had aspirations, ambition. She would have been a worthy puppet. Nothing like this bag of flesh I’m wearing.”

Callista trembled. She’d been dealt some significant blows and the night wasn’t over yet. Demetrius fought the urge to pull her into his arms. Malachim’s revelations were devastating for her, but highly informative for him.

“Why do you need a puppet, Malachim? Aren’t you strong enough on your own?”

A snarl grew until Edgar’s fangs were fully exposed. “You know nothing of our kind, Demetrius. A tactical error on your part. We know all about your kind, your weaknesses. While you were busy fighting each other, we were sinking roots into your world. Soon, we will rule it.”

“What does Callista have to do with demons ruling our race?”

“You’re showing your ignorance again, vampire. I tire of this conversation.” Malachim turned toward the fireplace.

“Enlighten me.” Demetrius stepped around Callista, putting a steadying hand on her shoulder, a silent signal to let her know to stay in place.

He thought Malachim was giving him the demon form of the silent treatment, but he’d been fooled. The demon reached over the mantle and grabbed an ancient sword.

“Run,” Demetrius ordered Callista. He drew a knife from his waistband.

Callista remained behind him.

“Get out of here,” he bit out.

Malachim raised the sword. If it had been Demetrius versus Edgar, Demetrius wouldn’t be so worried. But the demon seemed to know what he was doing and relished the destruction to come.

Demetrius had a six inch blade and his fangs. Normally, he was a pretty deadly fucker. But facing a four-foot sword wielded by pure evil left him at a disadvantage.

“Callista. Leave.” Demetrius couldn’t protect her and keep himself alive.

She ignored him. “Father?” Her voice was strangled. She had to be worried for Edgar, terrified he’d be killed in the fight. Demetrius knew no other way to get rid of Malachim.

The blackness lightened in Edgar’s eyes, and Demetrius wondered if the male could help him fight the demon.

“Edgar,” he said evenly. “Fight him, Edgar.”

Malachim’s arm seized, an internal struggle over control of the muscles. His movements became jerky. Malachim tried to move forward to attack Demetrius. Instead, he was held in place by Edgar vying for control of his body.

“You can do it, Father.” She sounded so sure, so confident in Edgar.

Color bled back into Edgar’s eyes. The sword dropped. “Save her soul,” he spoke to Demetrius. “I failed. You cannot.” Turning to Callista, his eyes filled with love...and regret. “You are everything to me. Forgive me.”

The hand holding the sword twitched, darkness bled back into his eyes.

Edgar looked down at his hand, his body rigid. With great force, the fingers holding the sword pried open and it clattered to the ground.
One last, lost look at Callista and Edgar flung himself backward, falling into the fireplace. Sparks and ash flew up, Edgar’s clothing ignited.

“No!” Callista screamed, lunging forward.  

Demetrius caught her around the waist.

Edgar’s body jerked and twitched, Malachim fighting him for control. Edgar weakened under the agony, his skin blistering red, his clothing burning to cinders. The demon took over. Demetrius knew it as soon as the smoldering body rose from the fire.

Flinging Callista to the floor, Demetrius dove for the sword. Malachim tried to do the same, but staggered from the flames licking his body. Grabbing the handle, he sprang up, swinging in a wide arc.

Too wide. Malachim ducked and fell to the floor and rolled. Before he could rise from his knees, Demetrius swung in a downward arc, his aim true.

Blood sprayed as Edgar’s head detached from his body, landing with a thud. His burning body toppled back. The rug, already smoldering from Edgar’s dive into the fireplace, lit up, fueled by the vampire blood soaking into the fabric.

Callista’s screams shattered his ears. She was on her feet, but she remained in place. From her frantic expression, she desperately wanted to go to her father, but her rational mind kept her a safe distance away.

An inky black hole appeared beside Edgar’s body. Demetrius had seen it before. He tackled Callista as she lunged for her father’s prone body. Wrapping her in a protective embrace, he hurtled with her over the couch seconds before an explosion ripped through the air. He took the brunt of the landing, keeping her tucked into his shoulder.

Debris rained down upon them. Demetrius knew remnants of the body decorated the living room. It was the same when one of Sigma’s evil leaders was beheaded. The force of the underworld dragged the demon back to hell, decimating anything in its path.

When the room settled, Callista lifted her face from his shoulder, dazed. Shoving against him, she jumped up to search for her father.

Demetrius heaved himself up. There was a gaping smoldering hole in the floor where her father’s remains should’ve been.

The blue blazed in her eyes when she turned to him. “We could’ve have saved him!”

Insulted she thought he killed indiscriminately, he ignored her comment. She just lost her only family. “Where’s all his information?”

Callista blinked at him, not comprehending the subject change.

“The documents he hid from you,” he pressed. “Any information he or your mother used to summon Malachim. Where might they be?”

“The library,” she mumbled, her eyes wandering back to the hole in the floor.