Red Demon (41 page)

She blushed. “It’s all right, Ari, so long as you’re safe. But you seemed to be in a most terrible amount of pain out in the other room.”

“Not once we got in this bedroom,” he growled, rolling her onto her side. They nestled close, facing each other, but she missed the fullness of him inside her. A trickle of what he’d left behind coursed down the interior of her thigh, and it was an odd thought, but she wondered whether they’d conceived a child, some permanent gift from that moment of breathtaking communion.

Sliding his fingers along her leg, he traced his finger along the rivulet of his own seed. “It’s miraculous, isn’t it? What happens when a man and a woman join? That I leave my stuff behind like this, then maybe, eventually, it does another very miraculous thing,” he said softly, as if reading her thoughts.

“Do you know my mind?” she asked, and he trailed that slickness up into her pubic hair, spreading it around.

“Nah.” He gave her a lopsided grin. “I’m just proud to be your man. I’d love to have lots of redheaded babies with you some day.”

She thought of his three sons, the ones he’d never seen again, and how he’d grieved that separation. Perhaps she could make him another beautiful son, one he could love in this lifetime.

He slid a large hand along her bare hip. “So, I’m okay—but how do you feel?” Slowly he lifted his gaze, and his lovely eyes seemed very vulnerable. “Do you sense . . . well . . .
her
?” He whispered the last.

She hated the reminder of the limit to their time together, realizing that all their dreamy thoughts about babies and a family would be only that—dreams—if Layla had her way. She had to fight tears back but refused to let Ari see her pain, not when he needed her strength.

“I don’t feel her inside of me right now, but she’s proving difficult to anticipate or predict.”

He grunted. “Probably likes it that way. Her strategy, ya know?”

“Do you believe Mason has the power and ability to free me from her? I want to hope, and I’m praying so very hard, but . . .” She stared at the ceiling of the dark room, the only illumination the lights from the outside porch. “But I am frightened, Aristos, and not of dying again or roaming this earth, restless for eternity.” She lowered her gaze, staring right at him. “But of being separated from you.”

He cupped her face firmly. “Hear this, Juliana Tiades. We haven’t come this far, waited this long, only to be driven apart now. I will not lose this battle. I will find a way to keep you—and for as long as the Highest God will allow.” Suddenly he seemed to remember something, his eyes growing narrow. “The Oracle told me we’d face a great trial. She said this was coming; she saw it—but she also prophesied about defeating the evil within.”

Juliana sat upright. “Yes!” She patted her chest. “She must have been talking about me and . . . and
Layla
,” she whispered, with a quick glance around. She obviously feared the demon’s reprisal, the way she held her breath for a moment after speaking.

Then slowly she exhaled. “She has less control right now,” Jules said very quietly. “I think our lovemaking . . . the intensity or something, forced her into submission.”

He opened his mouth to comment on that idea. That they could use sex to battle demons was, after all, a really appealing idea. But he was interrupted by a loud knock on the door. “Ari, it’s River,” his friend called out. “I just got back—are you all right? The house is in chaos.”

Ari was already searching for his pants, moving toward the door. “Oh, crap,” he muttered, glancing at Juliana. “I do this little thing with the lights when I’m like that.”

She smiled at his obvious embarrassment. “I think it was perhaps a bit more than the lights this time.”

He froze, looking back at her. “How
much
more?”

“Some of your odd inventions—the Panasonic, the other items? I think you destroyed them.”

“Oh, damn it,” he cursed, stepping into his pants.

River knocked on the door again. “Buddy, come on, need to know you’re all right.”

“Look, Dr. Feelgood, I’m coming. Hold on a sec. I had to, you know, employ the ‘River cure.’ Know what I mean?”

Silence came from the other side, then a muffled laugh. “So, in other words, I should mind my own business and come back later?”

“We’re done, dude, and I want to assess the damage to the house,” Ari said, opening the door at the same moment he zipped up his pants.

Jules dove beneath the linens, barely peeking out so much as her nose lest River see her in a state of undress.

She heard River laugh again. “Just so you know,” he announced. “I think some of the front windows blew out.”

“Oh, crap. They’re gonna break my balls over that for months, aren’t they?”

“Actually, big guy, you’ll probably get a pass . . . all things considered.” Then in an ominous tone, he added, “You should see the wards.”

 

Ari bounded up the stairs, unable to believe what River had just told him—needing to see the proof with his own eyes. River chased in his wake. “Calm down; look, just take it easy,” his friend tried telling him. “Don’t get worked up; it’s not helpful to you right now.”

Ari hadn’t even put on a shirt, nor had he fastened the snap on his pants. Damn, he’d barely bothered zipping them at all, but that hardly mattered. He moved ahead with a freight train’s urgency, barreling out the front door and onto the front steps. Every Spartan was gathered; Emma, Shay, and Sophie were there, too.

Jamie was the only one still missing, but there wasn’t exactly anyone taking roll call; everyone’s attention was focused on the field itself. He’d figured River was just being melodramatic, but his best friend hadn’t overstated the situation at all.

The wards were on fire, burning in leaping, crimson flames like some neatly contained blazing strand of fuel. They were popping and sizzling with so much heat, Ari’s face burned—and he was a good dozen yards from the edge. It was an eerie, unsettling sight, running the length of the pasture as far as he could see.

Leonidas stood closest of all, rubbing his chin and appearing perplexed and deeply troubled. These were
his
wards; they all knew it. He felt almost fatherly toward them, not because they had a soul or spirit, but because his own energy fed their strength, fortified them, and in exchange, the wards kept them all safe from spiritual darkness.

Tidying up his appearance, Ari strode to his king’s side, wishing like hell that he’d brought a shirt. “Sir,” he announced, clearing his throat.

Leonidas’s crimson cloak billowed behind him regally as he studied the scene with a concerned, almost mournful expression. He wore a simple linen shirt and leather loin covering; of all of them, he still dressed traditionally most often, perhaps as an expression of leadership. Seeing his king dressed in the old garb, with the fires burning in every direction, Ari shivered, feeling as if they were staring at the battlefield toward the end of fighting at Thermopylae. “Sir, what happened?” Ari asked, flanking his king’s side.

“They’re destroyed. The wards are . . . they’re clearly ruined. All of you, unprotected.” Turning, Leo lifted his chin and addressed them all with a commanding air. “I have no idea what could have done this, but we don’t want to wait around to find out. We evacuate tonight and move everyone to safer ground, Spartan and human alike. We must fortify our position.”

There was only one place their king could have in mind. “To the Angel plantation?” Ari asked.

Leonidas nodded. “Those wards there are much older, going back generations. So they’re naturally stronger. Also, Jamie and I have worked on the perimeter since the attack two months ago. We’ll camp there until we can reestablish firm base operations at our own compound.” There was genuine sadness in the king’s eyes as he stared at the disintegrating protections.

Ari touched the man’s arm. “I know you put a lot of your heart into them, sir, and I’m sorry. But we’ll re-create them. You will.”

Leo studied the blaze, golden- red light dancing across his rugged face. “I find them beautiful,” he explained quietly. “It’s difficult to explain, but they’re . . . alive. In some way that I don’t even understand, I know that to be true.” He seemed to think a moment, and then added more softly, “Watching them die pains me.”

“Die, my lord?” Ari asked, surprised at such a dramatic phrase.

“Their life is fading away, Aristos. Is there a better way to term it? Not that I can think of.” Their king’s spirit had seemed so troubled lately, and Ari had the idea that there was a greater import behind his words. “All living things and creatures must die eventually,” Leo said. “No matter how strong or resilient.”

Now, what did that comment mean? Ari turned to him, about to ask, but was cut off. There was an explosion along the barrier. It ripped open a whole section of the protective links, causing sparks to rise high into the night sky.

Ari watched the destruction, his eyes watering against the blast of heat. Leonidas turned, about to walk away, but he caught the Old Man by the arm. “Commander, do you think I caused this? When my power went haywire a while ago? That could be what brought them down, sir.”

Leo planted a gentle hand on his shoulder. Although only a few years older than Ari, his king had always been paternal with every one of them. All the responsibility and leadership he carried on his shoulders seemed only to add more maturity as well. Lately, it was strange, but Leo really had started to seem . . . older.

“Aristos, this began before the windows on the front of the house exploded, and before I observed many of the interior lights extinguish.” There was kind reassurance in the man’s eyes. “Even if you had caused this trouble, you only assumed River’s power to help your friend and Spartan brother, not out of any desire for your own gain. I would not blame you.”

For the space of a moment, Ari was relieved, but then a much more sinister thought nailed him, hard. Oh, by the gods, he knew he was right, too.

He cleared his throat. “Uh, my lord? I think maybe I know why the wards are reacting so violently.” Ari drew in a breath. “They were trying to protect us, sir, because . . .” He sucked in a deeper breath, steeling himself, and pointed back at the mansion. “Because there’s a demon in our house.”

Leo’s eyes narrowed. “Explain how that is possible.”

Ari sighed. “It is such a long, long story, sir; I’m not sure where to begin.”

Ari hadn’t felt so exhausted, so eager to just
stop
talking, in longer than he could recall. But he inclined his head to their commander and said, “Forgive me, my lord, but I believe that ultimately—if not directly—I created the whole stupid mess.”

D
aphne walked the beach, the cool sand squishing between her bare toes. Delphi Island had become her temporary home, the brightly colored beach cottage a refuge far from her brother’s hand—and yet near enough to Leonidas and her beloved Spartans that she could reach them quickly, as needed. Teleporting from England wasn’t quite as fast or easy.

The surf roared because of the offshore hurricane, high waves raging, and the weather seemed to reflect her inner turmoil.

She was sure now that Ares had revoked Leonidas’s immortality. Her brother had hinted at it enough times, but after glimpsing the gray in his beard last night, she was convinced that was Ares’ punishment. On her, on Leonidas . . . on all of them. He would age now, and eventually die.

With a pained cry, she plopped down on the sand, watching the silver fingers of light that played over the roaring surf. There had to be a way to save him, she was certain, but she couldn’t seem to arrive at a plan. Her father, Zeus, had outright refused to intervene, but she was a demigoddess, possessing some power, even if it was limited in scope. She also had alliances on Olympus, those who cared for her and felt at least an iota of loyalty toward her. Like her nephew Eros, for instance; he’d always been kind to her—grateful for the respect and affection she offered even in the face of his own father’s cruelty.

Yes!
she thought, sitting up taller. Eros could surely be of assistance. He lacked Ares’ brutal strength and her own father’s authority, but he carried more sway on the great mountain than she did, without a doubt. Beyond that, wouldn’t he be naturally sympathetic to her lover’s plight? She felt much lighter, until an odd shiver coursed down her spine. Her connection with Leonidas ran so strong, she always sensed when he was troubled—or
in
trouble of any sort. And something was definitely very wrong.

Leaping to her feet, she was already raising her arms as she began hurtling through the dimensions, flinging herself to his side.

 

In response to Leonidas’s orders to roll out, the past hour had seen a flurry of activity, organizing supplies, packing up vehicles. It was like the old time in Sparta, but instead of mules and horses, they had Mountaineers and Jeeps.

Ari had stayed out in the pasture, talking quietly to Leonidas about everything he’d learned about Juliana—and how it didn’t contradict the truth of their Oracle’s prophecy.

“Even our lady admitted that we had a very challenging road ahead,” Ari reminded Leo, half-afraid that he’d want to do the very thing Mason had threatened at first. Just kill Jules and be done with her.

“I remember what she said.” Leo grew quiet, drawing his cloak about his shoulders. “I noticed it at the time, actually. There is always more to what Daphne says or even intimates than meets the eye.” Leo smiled to himself, his affection for the woman obvious, and he kept on smiling that way.

“You love her,” Ari blurted like an idiot, wishing he could reel those three words back in the moment they were out of his mouth. But, well, he’d done the math lately, and he knew he was right, so there you had it. When something true came to his mind, he couldn’t seem to hold back.

He braced, waiting for censure, some gentle rebuke, but Leonidas kept his eyes on the dying wards. Silent at first, he began to smile more broadly after a moment. “I suppose I am not nearly as mysterious as I would like to believe.” He tucked his cloak even closer about himself, facing the fires again. “But please tell no one, Aristos. As you might imagine, this is an . . . ah, need-to-know type situation.”