Her Demon Prince (Forbidden Fantasy) (18 page)

Agrat head-butted
the demon. "Die!"

Snarcus
screeched. He pointed his finger at Agrat's dagger held by another demon.
"Give it to me." He snatched it from the demon and put it to the
prince's throat. “Every demon in hell knew of my humiliation at your hands and
tormented me for it. Now they will fear me when I carve off your head with your
own dagger. I will tell them how I raped your princess until she died.”

"Not my
Phoebe," he spat out. How could he save her when his lifeblood was
draining from his body? His knees sagged.

Snarcus raised
the dagger to deliver the final blow.

His princess.
He'd die with her name on his lips.

A red fireball
flared past Agrat, catching Snarcus in the face. The demon dropped Agrat's
dagger, clutched his face and howled. It was quickly followed by another and
another. Snarcus screamed as he was incinerated.

The demons
holding Agrat dropped his arms in confusion and grasped their weapons, looking
for the source of attack.

Agrat staggered
but stayed on his feet, grounding his feet into the earth. He silently called
on his ancestor, the Element of Earth, to strengthen him. Steady power flowed
from deep within the ground up his legs, but Earth's energy was slow and
steady, too calm to give him the full fighting power he desperately needed. With
the strength he drew from Earth, he summoned his dagger, which flew into his
waiting hand and he slashed the demons closest to him.

In the distance
he could make out a figure, throwing fireballs with precision and skill.
"It can't be," he murmured.
Another elemental
demon.
He recognized the energy signature and for a moment wondered if
he was bleeding out. Was this a hallucination?

He was the last
elemental demon.

Screams echoed
to the left and right of him as demon after demon vaporized under the attack.
Agrat could not spare but a second to sight the figure who set terror into the
hearts of the demon army. Phoebe was in the house, but until he eradicated this
force, she'd never be safe. He slashed and carved up demonic entities until the
elemental demon came close.

On his first
glance, shock hammered his heart. The tall stranger was a mirror image of him
but fairer and younger. How could this be?

A screech to
Agrat's right had him fighting off a gargoyle, to the left a squat horned
demon. He fought until his body was slick with blood, his own and those around
him. He could not disintegrate and become one with the earth to heal, like he
had been told his mother could, but the steady power ran up his legs, through
his torso, mixing and surging with the Lord of Lightning's energy, forcing it
through his fingertips.

"Prince,
watch your back," the elemental demon cried out.

Agrat turned,
just in time to block the malevolent djinn that was about to run a spear
through him. Energy flared through Agrat's fingers, finally unblocking. He
chopped at the djinn with his hand, ragged electricity firing from his fingers
incinerating it.

The elemental
demon sent fireballs and destroyed the demons behind the djinn.

Whoever he was,
he knew how to fight in the same method as Agrat.
Swift,
strong.
No hesitation.

"It's time
you had someone to cover your back," the elemental demon said, with a
merry grin.

"You fight
well." Agrat grit out, sensing the elemental demon's energy as similar to
his own, and yet there was something else in his make up too. It didn't make
sense. Nothing made sense. No one had ever looked out for him except Phoebe. No
one had ever cared enough.

The elemental
demon stood at his back, covering him, and the two men fought off the remains
of the army until the last of the demon force was vanquished.

Vision blurred
with the uncontrolled energy racing through his system, Agrat turned. His hands
still twitched, sparks flared off him and his stomach wound seeped blood. He'd
never been at such a loss. "I owe you the debt of my life."

"Consider
it paid. You gave me mine."

"Who are
you?" Agrat asked.

"I'm your
son, Daniel." He grinned and there was something playful in his expression,
as if this battle had been entertainment instead of a fight to the death.

"I have no
son," Agrat said. His heart banged hollow in his chest. There was a moment
in time when he'd hoped that a child might be possible, after he'd met Phoebe.
He no longer allowed himself to think about it. Simply having her was all he
craved. "This is a cruel trick and I thank you not for it." He
desired to smite the elemental demon so painful were his words, but he owed him
the debt of his life and a debt must be repaid.

"Every day
my mother, the Princess Phoebe, took me to visit your statue. She loved you. She
used to hold me up and I'd trace the design on your breastplate. I modeled mine
on yours," he said, looking down proudly at his breastplate. "I
always hoped that you could hear me through the stone."

"But
Galaden would not suffer a son of mine to live," Agrat said, his mind
fighting to rationalize through the shock.

Daniel raised
his eyebrows. "Actually, he was kinda good to me. He trained me to fight,
like you trained him. We kicked ass, didn't we?"

Stunned, the
world seemed to swim around him. Phoebe had birthed a child and Galaden had let
him live. He had never cried tears, not since a babe. Not as a lad when his
father beat him and called him evil like his mother, and never as a man, but
his eyes welled. How could this be? His throat thickened as he imagined Daniel
as a child, his small hands examining his statue father. He could barely speak.

He had a son.

With a trembling
hand he reached out to touch him, to check this was no hallucination. His son
was solid, a warrior.

His gaze ran
over Daniel. Though his eyes were a different color, more a dark green with
brown around his irises, the shape was almond like his own. His nose was
slightly wider but hooked and his mouth wide and generous. He had the broad
shoulders of a fighter and sturdy, muscular legs. Daniel was not as tall as he
was, arriving at his chin, but there was no doubt that this was his son.
"You fought like a warrior today. I am honored to be your father."

Daniel grinned
and held up the palm of his hand. "That's so cool. High five, Dad."

Agrat stared at
his son's outstretched arm. He was too weary to search the cop's memory bank to
translate the meaning. Clearly this was some form of modern salutation. "A
salute is not required when you serve me, Daniel."

"Er,
right," Daniel said, dropping his hand.

Did Phoebe have
any idea that they'd had a son together in their last life? She'd made no
mention of it. Looking up at the house he saw smoke billowing out of the
windows. Phoebe! "The house is burning. Help me save Phoebe." He
staggered toward the house, refusing to let his blood loss defeat him.

"Come back.
She isn't there," Daniel called out. "Envy kidnapped her while you
fought. We must get to her before Galaden does something he'll regret. "

Agrat turned and
ran toward Daniel, stumbling from the searing pain of his stomach wound. Terror
for Phoebe bit deep. "Galaden has her? Where is she?"

Daniel shifted,
taking one of Agrat's arms and put it around his shoulder. "I'll take you
to her. Lightning has overcharged and fused your senses. You're too messed up
to teleport, so hang tight."

Agrat could feel
his legs crumpling despite Daniel's support. He had lost too much blood. He
could barely make sense of what Daniel said. "I have to get to her."

The edges of his
vision were blackening, but he pulled out his dagger determined to plunge it
into Galaden's heart.

Chapter 14

Phoebe's eyes flickered open.
She was in Rachael's apartment and a sword was pointed at her throat. A tidal
wave of fear swooped over her. Yet under the drowning certainty that she was
facing death, anger surged. "Coward! Look me in the eye when you kill
me."

"This must
be done," Galaden said, his voice stern, but his weapon tilted back
slightly.

"You cold
bastard, will you tell Rachael you slashed my throat in her apartment?"
She knew his adoration of Rachael was his Achilles'
heel,
the only thing that raised what remained of humanity in him. It gave her
seconds. With her growing strength giving her speed, she dodged the sword at
her throat and pushed herself to her feet, scrabbling away from him.

Galaden blanched
and stepped back at the mention of Rachael's name, but he kept his sword
unsheathed.

A flash startled
Phoebe. In the corner an angel with azure wings and silver tips appeared.
"Father, stop!"

"I have
made a vow, Cassiel. You know the penalty if I do not do this," Galaden
said.

"Cassiel?"
Phoebe thought of the small beatific child she'd just dreamed about. He was
real.
A live grown-up being.
In maturity, he was
almost as tall as his father but wider and stronger in build. He had the
classical beauty of an angel but he appeared more vibrant and passionate, more
human. His crystal-blue eyes flashed and his mouth was turned down.

"You'll
have to kill me to get to her," Cassiel said. He stormed across the room
and stood in front of her.

"I almost
can't believe I'm seeing you." Which meant the dream she'd just had was
true, too. Phoebe's heart hammered at the short reprieve from death. She stood
behind Cassiel, trying to gather her wits. The heavenly scent of frankincense
came from his wings and she longed to bury her hands in them to ground herself
in her terror.

"I'm sorry
you have to find out this way. I'm here to protect you," Cassiel said.

"Thank you,
Cassiel." Words couldn't express the gratitude she was feeling at the
moment. She was sure she was changing; she could feel renewed goddess strength
running through her, but she couldn't defend herself against Galaden. She'd
tried that and the angel had fought back using powers she couldn't block. He
was too old a being, too dangerous for her to fight.

"You are my
son," Galaden said, his eyes blazing. "You must do my will. I order
you to stand aside."

Cassiel's whole
body shuddered but he didn't move. "I've come to tell you that Rachael is
dying. You've got to return her
life-force
. I can help
heal her, but I need you by my side. I don't have your sort of power."

"I syphoned
Phoebe's mind while she slept. She does not know where your mother resides. The
demon has shielded her whereabouts from me." He raised his hand to a fist,
clearly agitated. His wings flared, opened and closed, and he stalked backwards
and forwards.

"I know
where she is. I'll take you to her. Hurry, Father, there's little time."

Galaden stopped
pacing. His gaze met Phoebe's, his eyes cold and steely, their pupils a pinprick.
"Stand aside, Cassiel. It is time to do my duty to my father. Every cell
in my body demands I act on the vow." His voice was ice.

Phoebe saw a
tremor pass through the young angel as if he were fighting with himself,
forcing his body to stay put. Deeply grateful for his protection, she raised
her hand and put it on his shoulder. Love. She remembered the feeling from her
dream. This was the angel child she'd adored as her own. His very presence was
proof that her dream was not some strange fantasy implanted by Galaden.
Cassiel's skin was warm, not cool like Galaden's. She could see his resolve in
the firm set of his back as he faced off against his father. "I dreamed
you raised Cassiel to love me, now you want to kill me in front of him. What an
asshole you are," she said to Galaden.

"Silence,
woman. You know not our ways. Your race does not understand obedience. I made a
vow. It is not a choice," Galaden said.

"A foolish
vow, made out of hatred for Prince Agrat, and now this innocent woman has to
pay the price," Cassiel said.

"I never
thought Agrat would escape the statue. No one has ever turned back into human
form," Galaden said. "Sometimes even innocents must be sacrificed. It
is the way of our race when we do the work we are given by our forebears."

"Phoebe was
like my mother," Cassiel said, "which is why I won't let you do this.
I've been searching the other dimensions for you for years and now I find you
here, a lonely desperate angel. From what I've heard about the prince, he'll chase
you across dimensions to avenge Phoebe's death, which means I'll lose you,
too."

A choking sound
left Galaden's throat at the truth of Cassiel's words.

The little angel
boy she'd raised in her past life had become a complex, questioning man.

"The demon
will not survive my army's attack," Galaden said.

"Agrat
will. I know it. He'll risk everything to get to me," Phoebe said with
passion. How she hated Galaden, wished she had the strength to kill him
herself.

"Choose,
Father. Come with me and save the woman you love or stay and make good your
vow," Cassiel challenged.

Galaden stalked
toward him, the look on his face deadly. "I created you. You do not issue
me with commands. It is not the way of angels."

"It's my
way," Cassiel said, squaring his shoulders.

Phoebe tightened
her grip on him. She could feel shudders running through him from his
disobedience. She knew it cost him deeply to go against his fundamental angelic
nature of blind obedience to his creator.

"You would
dare disobey me?" Galaden asked. Astonishment made his eyes darken like
the sky when clouds crossed the sun. The concept appeared foreign to him.

"Damn right
I would," Cassiel said.

Oh dear God,
Phoebe thought, this young angel was brave like her prince, but he was taking
his life in his hands by crossing Galaden.

"You cannot
do so," Galaden said, an appalled expression on his face. "It is in
your cells, in your whole angelic make-up to do the will of your creator. You
must obey me."

Phoebe could
feel Cassiel's whole body trembling under her fingertips, yet his stance was
strong.

"I will not
let you do this," Cassiel said, his teeth gritted.

"I spoilt
you. I raised you too gently. I let you know your human side. My father would
have sealed my fate by now. Already my feet would be turning to stone had I
gone against his wishes in any way."

"I love
you, Dad. You were a good, kind father to me, but you'll have to run that sword
right through me before you get to Phoebe," Cassiel said. "The only
time I've ever seen you happy was when I was a kid and the princess looked
after us. You do this terrible thing and it'll destroy you."

"Cassiel.
No!" Phoebe said. She couldn't let him do this. What a good, solid soul
she'd raised in her past life.

"I'm a
quarter angel with stunted wings and dodgy angelic powers, but the higher power
in heaven did allow me and Daniel to hang out in the angelic realm, so we must
be doing something right. Maybe this whole turn-to-stone thing won't work with
me." He reached behind him, found her hand on his shoulder and squeezed
it.

Relief overwhelmed
her but it would prey on her conscience to let this young angel risk everything
for her. She walked to his side, yet he put his arm in front of her to stop her
advancing. "You're an ice-cold bastard, Galaden, but I thought from my
dream that you weren't cruel like your father, the old king who made you watch
when he killed Rachael in her past life. I was wrong. You want to kill me in
front of Cassiel."

Oh, God, where
was Agrat? Fear made her throat tight and she wasn't sure how long Cassiel
could hold out. Agrat had to come. She needed him, longed for him in a way that
went deep into her bones. She hadn't told him how much she loved him. She
thought of the last moment she'd seen him, suspended in the air as Lightning
charged him. How could he survive? But if he were dead, surely there would be
some way she would know it? Their love connected them through lifetimes.

He had to come.

Galaden's
shoulders slumped as he sheathed his sword. "I cannot fight you, Cassiel.
The pain of it is unbearable. Nor can I turn you to stone for my own sin. Take
me to Rachael. I wish to say goodbye."

"What do
you mean?" Phoebe cried. Was Galaden going to let Rachael die?

Cassiel spread
his wings, clearly shielding her from Galaden and advanced toward his father.
In a flash, they disappeared, not answering her question.

Phoebe sank to
the sofa and put her head between her hands. Death had been close.
Too close.
Agrat. All she wanted was his arms around her.
Please Lord, I need him, she prayed, her eyes full of tears. Spare my love,
even if he is not one of your subjects. She put her hand on the lapis lazuli of
her wrist guard and cried out his name.

She had to get
out of here before Galaden returned. She had seen death in his eyes. Next time,
there would be no second chances.

An explosion of light flared in the room and Phoebe backed
up against the sealed door. A man with mahogany-colored hair stood in front of
her, his arm wrapped around Agrat's waist in support. The prince's naked body
was slumped against the man, blood streaming from a wound in his stomach and
the cuts and abrasions all over him. His eyes were closed and he barely
appeared conscious.

"Hurry, Princess. Come
with me. I need your help with the prince."

Phoebe blinked and blinked
again. The dire situation wasn't lost on her but for a millisecond she froze.
She knew those moss-colored eyes. She'd seen them before in her dreams in the
face of her baby. "Daniel?"

He grinned. "The one and
the same."

Her son and
yet not her son.
It was almost too much to take in. A son! A giant warrior dressed in ancient
battle gear, filthy from
fighting,
yet he didn't seem
to be wounded. Boy, was she pleased to see him. He was tall and handsome like
the prince, but he had
a lightness
about his character
that Agrat didn't. Joy, that he was real, even if her head was still struggling
with the idea, and relief that Agrat hadn't battled alone, made her heart leap.
It was clear from Daniel's blood smeared battle dress that both men had fought
hard. "I'm so glad you're here."

"I'd hug you, but my arms
are kinda occupied." He held out one hand. "Quick. We
gotta
get out of here and I'm not great at teleporting on my
own, let alone with three of us. Takes a lotta concentration and energy seeing
as I'm only a quarter elemental demon. Agrat, if you can hear me, I need help
with this."

Phoebe didn't need to be told
twice. She raced forward and grabbed the prince's other arm and put it around
her shoulders. "How bad is he?" she asked Daniel.

"Bad," he confirmed.

Agrat's skin was clammy
against hers and each breath he took seemed labored. "Please don't die. I
love you," she said, tucking her other arm around his waist to secure him
into position for the shift. She tenderly touched his face, the memory of his
lovemaking in her mind, his scent in her nostrils, and her need of him as
totally essential to her as breathing.

Agrat groaned and muttered
something at the jostling of his body, but he didn't open his eyes. He still
clutched his dagger in his fist and Phoebe didn't dare take it from him in case
he sensed the movement and thought someone was attacking him.

"Ready?" Daniel
said.

"As I'll ever be,"
she muttered, dreading it.

Already particles of air
seemed to swirl around her and she could feel herself becoming weightless. The
floor seemed to fall away from her feet and she clutched Agrat. Squeezing her
eyes shut, she felt her stomach drop and was glad she hadn't eaten much because
she was certain she'd end up on her hands and knees dry retching again.

Which she did, only this time
there was a wooden floorboard underneath her and in the near distance she could
hear the sound of the sea. Her stomach heaved and she flopped down flat on her
front, shifted her face to the side until the violent nausea left her. With a
sense of
déjà
vu, she forced herself to a sitting position. Her head swam with the movement
and her stomach heaved again, but it wasn't as violent as the last time. When
she could manage to look around it seemed like she was in a beautiful, modern
beach house. The air was balmy and warm. Through the large sliding doors she
could see the ocean and miles of beach with yellow sand. The whole place had a
sense of peace and she breathed it in with gratitude.

"Sorry. That was a rough
trip. Humans don't do it so well. I'll get you some healing water once I've
settled the prince," Daniel said, his body straining under the weight of
his father. Daniel lowered Agrat onto a fold out wooden chair. Carefully, he
extracted the dagger from the prince's hand and laid it on a table nearby.