Dust of My Wings (25 page)

His brows shot up at her silence. “Don’t want to talk to me? Why not? Cause of these?”  He rubbed his hand over one of his horns then chuckled when she continued to stare. “I didn’t save you from the werewolves only to harm you. You’re safe with me.”

She exhaled a humorless laugh. Safe? With a demon? Talk about an oxymoron. “Where’s my sword?”

“Hidden, but secure.”

Forcing her voice to be strong though she trembled inside, she demanded, “Give it to me.”

The demon gave her a curious look – as if he was surprised by her courage. Job well done if she’d fooled him.

“So you can stick me with it like you did the werewolves? No thank you.”

She huffed though he had a point. “Why did you save me from them?”

“I just so happen to need a witch.”

Her gaze rested on the cauldron over the fire. “Am I the last ingredient for your demon stew?” Though her tone was sarcastic, her stomach churned at the thought.

He merely looked her over and answered, in a casual tone, “You would make terrible stew meat.”

She had the distinct feeling he was laughing at her. “Please let me go, demon.”

“Geo.”

“What?”

“My name is Geo. Won’t you tell me yours?”

She shook her head.

“Stubborn girl,” he mumbled. He turned to a rickety old cabinet and pulled out two bowls. He scooped one into what looked like soup and held it out to her. “At least eat something.”

Her stomach growled as she gazed longingly at the bowl. She hadn’t eaten more than a couple granola bars in two days but she refused to move from the circle. If he brought it just a little closer…

She held out a hand, beseeching him to give it to her in the circle.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he scolded and held the bowl away. “Come sit near the fire with me and you can have it.”

With a grunt of displeasure, she clenched her fists and remained where she was.

“Come now, little witch. You can’t escape without some nourishment anyway.” His lips twitched. Teasing her again?

But Samantha hadn’t managed to stay alive among the foulest warlocks for twenty-three years by trusting just anyone.

“Are you going to stand there all night?” he asked, eyeing her chalk circle.

She should’ve made it bigger. Then she’d at least have room to sit down and stretch out. She looked down at her bare feet. Bare? He took her converse sneakers? Smart demon. “You said you needed me. What for?”

He sighed and lowered himself to the floor by the fire, bowl in hand. “Tell me first why you’re here in the Underworld then we’ll get to my purpose.”

She bit down on her bottom lip.

“Are you this difficult about everything?” He sipped his soup from the bowl.

“Generally,” she answered honestly. She stared at his horns.

He noticed her gaze and rubbed one self-consciously. “This is…temporary.”

Temporary? According to the legends, demons were a botched experiment by Merlin, an infamous sorcerer from Wales back in the tenth century. He tried to create the ultimate weapon – an indestructible creature that could control people’s minds. Most sorcerers didn’t like to admit it, but Merlin had been bat-shit crazy. The
daimonas
were obsessed with chaos and destruction. They didn’t take orders. They lacked organization and self-discipline. Hard to make an army with vicious little boogars that could decimate a city but acted like five-year-olds on crack. Merlin ended up with a big problem that ran the risk of giving sorcerers a bad name, something they’d never allow – the self-righteous pricks. Gethin, the Red Dragon of Wales and guardian of the Underworld helped sweep it under the rug. He owed Merlin a favor after he freed him from a trap and gave dragons the ability to take human form. So into the Underworld went the screwy little miscreants.

But this “temporary demon” had intelligent eyes and what appeared to be a conscience. Maybe she should give him the benefit of the doubt. It went against all her instincts, but she didn’t really want to stand in a circle all night, and the soup did smell delicious.

“I’m here to retrieve my sister.”

“By yourself?” At her nod his brows descended. “You have no escort? No protector? Where is the male responsible for you?”

She blinked once then waited for him to correct himself. When she realized he was serious, she rolled her eyes. “Oh my Lord, I’ve died and woken in a historical romance novel.”

“Clearly much has changed since I last observed your world.”

Clearly. And she’d be educating him promptly.

“Where is your sister?”

“The Underworld Games.”

His expression darkened and he set down his empty bowl. “The Underworld Games? A mortal witch? Impossible.”

Placing a hand on her hip, she told him irritably, “It’s not impossible. She was taken to repay my father’s debt to the overseer. You have to let me go, Geo. She’s only fifteen. Her powers haven’t manifested yet. She’s defenseless and surrounded by creatures she’s never seen before. Who knows what they’ll do – ” Emotion lodged in her throat, choking off her words.

Geo’s expression softened as he gazed at her. “Even if you’re right, how do you plan to save her? You’re skilled with a sword, yes, but there’s only so much one mortal witch can do.”

Well, yes, there was that. “I’ll figure it out when I get there.”

He stared at her for a long moment then, seeming to have made some silent decision, stood up and declared, “All right. I have a deal for you. I will take you to the Games and you will do something for me in return. It’s a three-day journey through some of the most treacherous terrain in this realm. You won’t make it by yourself, sword or no, fearsome female.” A smile played at his lips. But not in a condescending way, more as if he was remembering something. “I will escort you, keep you safe, and procure food.”

This was starting to sound a lot like,
me Tarzan, you Jane
. And just what did he want in return? The way he was ogling her body, it had better not be what she thought. Her gaze swept over his fitted brown t-shirt, bulging muscles visible through the fabric. Although….

“In exchange,” he started, catching her gaze, “you will contact Gaia and tell her of my good deed. That’s all. Just one small favor.”

  Not a bad deal. If the werewolf fight was any indication, she was unlikely to survive a three-day journey toward the arena. That was assuming she even knew how to get there, which she didn’t. She’d walked into the Underworld yesterday without a plan, carrying only a satchel of essentials and her sword. She really needed to work on the whole looking before she leapt thing. But Nikki was here, somewhere, and Samantha was her only hope.

Could she trust Geo? A demon. No matter how temporary he claimed his…condition was, he still remained a demon. Evil. Selfish. But he’d offered her food. He’d made no threats against her. And deep down in her gut, she felt his goodness. There was more to this demon than met the eye.

“Let me get this straight,” she said. “You’re going to travel with me for three days and all you want in return is for me to send a little message to Gaia?” It sounded too good to be true, which meant it probably was.

“Does it look like I have anything better to do?”

Well, no. “What do you have to offer me for protection? Can you do any cool tricks?”

He smirked once then sobered. With a compelling voice, he ordered, “Step out of the circle.”

And damn her body for wanting to obey. Quickly, she locked down on her muscles to keep from moving. But it didn’t matter. She groaned with the effort to remain still. Only a moment later, both feet were out of the circle – her only protection, gone.

“Come,” he commanded from across the room.

She couldn’t resist gliding toward his silky voice no matter how hard she tried. Standing before him, she kept her gaze on the ground, silently wishing for the strength to pull away.

“Kneel.”

She dropped to the ground, wincing at the hardness under her knees. Damn him. She was vulnerable – at his mercy in every way.

“Look at me.” His voice was a tender whisper.

She raised her head. Warm copper eyes stared down at her. There was no pride or arrogance there. Intelligence. Compassion. Could she truly have found a…
good
demon?

He lifted his hand toward her face and she flinched. But to her surprise, he stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. She almost purred.

“Such a pretty girl.” His husky rasp slid through her like a shiver. “Do I meet your approval?”

Oh yes.
She nodded then pulled away from his hand.

He spun around, giving her his back. “I’m also handy with a sword.” She felt her eyes widen when he pulled out the biggest sword she’d ever seen from behind the cabinet. More than four feet long, he handled it with ease.

He chuckled when she gulped. After he placed it back behind the cabinet, he asked, “Now will you tell me your name willingly or must I pull it from you?”

She hated being on her knees in front of him. “Let me up and I will.”

At once, she felt his power recede. Her body was her own again. She rose to her feet and dusted off her jeans. Geo turned and dipped the second bowl into the cauldron to retrieve more soup.

“Sam,” she said, squaring her shoulders.

“Sam? A boy’s name?”

“Short for Samantha.”

A heart-breaking smile stretched across his face when he turned from the cauldron. “Samantha,
sfagéa to̱n lýko̱n, me ti̱n omorfiá kai ti̱ fo̱tiá
.” He held out the bowl full of soup and she snatched it from his hand before she could remember her manners.

“I don’t speak Greek,” she told him between mouthfuls of her meal. “What did you say?”

“Samantha, slayer of wolves, with beauty and fire.” His gaze fell on her hair.

Unruly orange curls had plagued her all her life. It was hardly beautiful, especially with the suffocating humidity of the Underworld. She probably looked like a poofy tabby cat that got stuck under a hand dryer. Still, heat spread to her cheeks at the compliment.

“So, Samantha, do we have a deal?”

She’d be stupid to refuse. Not only did he offer protection, but directions to the holding place of her sister. And all for one small request in return. Only one problem. Unlike most witches, Samantha and Mother Gaia weren’t on speaking terms. A fact she’d keep hidden for now.

“Deal,” she answered with a smile.

“Very good.”

Her stomach growled again and she slurped down the contents of the bowl. The soup tasted delicious but her palate was growing less picky the longer she went without food.

“Ease up, dove,” he said with a chaffing grin. “There’s plenty more soup.”

Suddenly self-conscious, she put down the bowl and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “When do we leave?”

“Straight away. If you’re ready.”

She peered around her, noticing the absence of windows. What time of day was it? How long had she been out? When she turned back to Geo, her sheathed sword sat in his outstretched hand. He was giving it back to her?

At her puzzled expression, he explained, “A show of good faith.” He yanked it back when she reached for it and gave her a stern glare. “But if you slit my throat while I’m not looking, I’m going to be very angry.”

She arched a brow and snatched the sword. “Just keep your hooves to yourself and we won’t have a problem.”

He scowled down at her. “I don’t have hooves. And I told you, I’m not really a demon.”

“Tell that to your horns,” she muttered under her breath.

A warning growl rose up from his throat.

Touchy, touchy.
Obviously, he was a smidge defensive about the whole “not demon” thing. Dependent on a powerful supernatural male in the middle of an identity crisis? Her luck sucked.

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