Demon From the Dark (42 page)

           
"I care for you. That hasn't changed," she said. "If anything, my feelings have grown stronger."

           
"How much was ... real?"

           
He knew she'd understood what he was really asking when she answered, "Malkom, I've never known more pleasure with another man."

           
How badly he wanted to believe her. But he was inexperienced, and she could have feigned that pleasure, with him none the wiser. She could be lying right now.

           
"What do
you
want of
me
?" she asked.

           
"You are my female. Fate has bound you to me. So I need to protect you."

           
"And claim me?"

           
Lust shot through him, and he hardened with a swift heat.

           
"Or drink me?"

           
He hissed in a breath, his mind fixed on that last day they'd spent in the mine. Seared into his memory was that vision of her--fresh from her orgasm with beads of crimson slowly slipping past her nipple. His bite mark had been like a brand on her flesh. "And you would let me take your blood? When you would not before?" He tried to recall his taste of her tonight, but only saw a haze.

           
"Now I understand why you do it." She was just behind him. "It's to feel close to me, isn't it? I will never deny you that again."

           
Never deny them
....

           
"Malkom, I would give anything to feel that close to you. I've needed you." When she laid her palm on his back, then her cheek, he stiffened. "Haven't you needed me?"

           
She wanted him, wanted him to possess her at last. So why did he feel such foreboding? Such fury?

           
Ignore it. Take her, bury yourself in her body.
But she could deceive him again, as easily as before. Only this time, if he claimed her, she could be carrying his babe.

           
He'd rather not have a child than have one out in the world, vulnerable, without him there to guard it, providing for it. He wouldn't be like his own father, who'd left Malkom to the whims of a whore, to be bought and sold.

           
Though he might understand why Carrow had done as she had, he couldn't merely forget the pain of the last week, the mistrust of the last four centuries. "I spent these days hating you. I imagined doing things to you ..."

           
"That would make my skin crawl?" she finished.

           
He turned to face her. "Yes." He'd been anticipating them right when his collar had fallen off.

           
"What would you have done in my situation?"

           
"The same. But I also would not expect to be forgiven. I would not expect to be trusted," he said, thinking of another question he wanted her to answer. "Why did you come to Ash? Did you intend to rescue me from the Trothans only to hand me over to the mortals?"

           
"No. I would have come for you no matter what. I felt awful about hurting you--"

           
"Yet you decided to do worse to me?" He ran his hand through his hair, still unused to his regenerating horns.
Another pain that I endured for her.
"Do you know what the armorer said just before I killed him? He told me that I would lose you."

           
"I'm not lost, Malkom. I'm right here."

           
He exhaled. "And I am weary, witch. Go tend to your young and leave me be."

           
She drew back her head as though slapped. "Very well. But I will win back your trust. If it's the last thing I do." She returned to the back room. He heard the ropes tighten as she joined the girl in the bed.

           
He stared at the rain on the window for long moments, waiting for her to fall asleep. As usual, his eyes were greedy for the sight of her.

           
Once he heard her breathing was deep and even, he returned to watch them in slumber. Carrow had her arms wrapped tight around the little one.

           
The witch would do--
had done
--anything to protect that child.

           
When he'd been Ruby's age, he would've killed for someone to take an interest in his well-being, much less vow to protect him--no matter what the consequences.

           
I would have thought her an angel.

           
If Carrow had been the heartless female he'd supposed her to be, then she would never have taken that mission to lure Malkom here.

           
Maybe 'twas not over yet.

           
The knot in his gut remained.
And maybe you are a fool.

           
In what looks like an abandoned city, the witch and her army face off against a horde of centaurs, fire demons, and Invidia.

           
She is confident of her abilities, knows that they'll have a victory--or go down in history.

           
"Wait for my signal!" she orders over her shoulder as she advances. Though flames light the night and explode all around her, she marches forward. She knows fear, yet she continues in the face of it.

           
Foolhardy witch. Even in sleep, Malkom began to sweat, heart racing for her.

           
In her hand, she pulls up concentrated magic. It sparks, but is cool to her, a welcome pressure above her palm.

           
"Now!" she screams, hurling the magic. An arc flares from her hand toward a distant structure. In a heartbeat's time, the blast renders the building to rubble.

           
But her enemies have focused on her. Fire demons trace around her, a dozen of them with flames ready. Before she can retreat, they strike, fire streaming toward her--

           
Malkom woke, shooting upright from his spot against the cabin's outer door.

           
He ran his hand over his face, gazing out into the stormy night. 'Twas only a dream. And obviously she'd recovered. So why was he filled with apprehension for her?

           
He had no one but himself to blame for witnessing that battle, had welcomed her memories. Though dreading the nightmares from his past, he'd sought dreams, needing to know more about her.

           
With his latest taste of her blood, he'd been rewarded with new memories, dozens of scenes. That battle in particular.

           
He leaned back against the door, piecing together what he'd learned. Carrow was a commander of the Wiccae, heading an entire contingent of witches. She was both reckless and victorious in war.

           
When fully powered, she was able to pitch building-crushing bombs from her hands.

           
And that is the life she wants to return to?

           
A life he wasn't a part of.

           
He glanced back in Carrow's direction. So close. Yet loneliness weighed on him, worse than any of his nights in that infernal mine.

           
Because now I know what I am missing
....

Chapter
 
36

           
"Crow, are you awake?"

           
"Why do kids ask that when they know you're not?" She cracked open her bleary eyes. "No. Really."

           
"I'm hungry. And that demon's gone, so I can't get him to fetch me something."

           
"Ruby, he's not a dog." She rose from the net, wincing at her body's chorus of twinges. The floor was going to be freezing on her bare feet, and there was no enticing aroma of coffee to coax her out of bed. Still she rose.
Have more than myself to look out for now.

           
Carrow had always been fiercely defensive of her coven, raring on the front line in any conflict. But looking out for Ruby was different, the need to do right by her even stronger.
Because she's depending completely on me.
"Was Malkom here when you woke up?"

           
"Nope."

           
"Oh. Well, let's see what we can find." She rooted through the feys' pack, finding only two energy bars and a few packs of energy gel.

           
Again, there were no multipurpose tools or weapons of any kind. But there was shampoo and soap aplenty. The feys were just as silly as she'd been when packing.

           
Carrow held up her find. "You wanna chocolate-chip energy bar or some energy gel?" She might have been worried that they'd run out of food, but she knew Malkom could catch more.

           
"The bar."

           
As Ruby ate the chocolate chips off the bar, Carrow peered out the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of him. Surprise--it was still raining!

           
Fern fronds climbed upward like trees, stretching as tall as she was. Lichen seemed bent on covering every inch of rock, battling with fungi for dominance.

           
At the shore in the distance, all appeared harsh, scoured by wind. Here within the trees, fog subdued the scenery, muting it.

           
She realized Malkom wouldn't have to fear the sun here today, could travel comfortably under the cover. And in the interior, the forest was just as dense as here.
So how far would he go?
she mused as she began exploring the cabin.

           
First thing she noticed? Nonpoisonous spiders and centipedes filled the place to the rafters.
Good thing witches like insects.

           
The sole closet contained a coil of rope, some life jackets, and a pile of decomposing blankets. At the bottom was a bucket and an old-timey wooden tub.

           
In the cooking area, she found a rickety stove, a couple of rusting food tins, and an assortment of mismatched pots and pans. Twine, clothespins, a whalebone comb, and a moldy deck of cards were in one drawer.

           
Another stroll to the window, another eager scan. No Malkom.

           
Carrow needed to talk with the demon so she could run her new plan by him. She thought they should get this place fortified, and then he could venture out to search for a way off this island, looking for allies, a boat, a severed hand, anything.

           
She suspected that Lanthe was still here. Though Thronos could fly, there was no way he could go a thousand miles over an ocean with a passenger, especially not when he was so broken, his wings twisted. If Malkom could rescue Lanthe, then they might be able to track down Fegley's hand.

           
Long shot? Absolutely. But Carrow didn't exactly have any short shots to choose from....

           
Still he hasn't returned.
She needed something to take her mind off him, something to keep her occupied.

           
So she strung up a line of twine in front of the fire, using the clothespins to hang up Ruby's damp clothes.

           
Which took ten minutes.
What to do now ... ?
Her gaze fell on Ruby, hopping after a centipede on the floor.

           
"You need a bath, kiddo."

           
By dint of Herculean effort, muffled curses, and trial and error, Carrow procured water from a trough outside, warmed it on the stove, and filled the wooden tub.

           
"I'm kind of getting handy," Carrow said as she began washing Ruby's hair with the feys' shampoo. "
Little House on the Prairie
-esque, even. We're just like pioneers, except we don't have to wear bonnets, right?" Ruby gave a half smile.

           
I'll take it.
The first smile she'd seen from her since their ordeal began. "Look at that. I almost forgot you had dimples." Carrow ran her forearm over her brow. "Come on, let's get you rinsed off."

           
After the bath, once Ruby had been fed, washed, and dressed, with her hair combed out, Carrow gave a mental hat tip to moms everywhere. She also felt a flare of alarm that Malkom still hadn't returned.

           
"What're we going to do now?" Ruby asked.

           
"Maybe check out the beach?"

           
"It's raining outside."

           
"No prob." Carrow helped her don the tall fey's rain jacket, but it swallowed her, looking more like a poncho. After rolling up the sleeves, Carrow said, "Let me see you rock the poncho. Who rocks the poncho?"