Red Demon (46 page)

Jules had no idea why or how it happened, but suddenly her body really did get hot. Literally. Like it had done in the bathroom of the Crab Shack. “Oh, no,” she moaned, gripping her head. “No, I won’t let you,” she told Layla. Raw terror gripped her, and even though she knew that the emotion fueled Layla’s power, gave the demon more strength and command, she couldn’t fight the tide of fear that rushed over her.

“What’s wrong?” Ari asked, trying to sit up, but Juliana’s whole body went rigid, and she began to shake. As she started convulsing, sensing Layla’s dominance emerging, she struggled to battle the demon back inside and away. Did everything in her power to tamp down her own fear so that the demon couldn’t feed on it, growing stronger and in control as a result.

“Jules, sweetheart, don’t let her do this. Don’t give her the power. Stay calm,” he urged, trying to still her writhing body within his arms. He fastened her back against his chest. “Fight her by focusing on me. Think about our love,” he urged, but no matter how fiercely he worked to calm her, she couldn’t settle down. The fear inside her heart was reaching a crescendo—feeding and strengthening Layla—and her awareness of that fact only birthed more fear. It was a terrible murderous cycle between them.

Ari pressed a strong forearm over her chest. “Juliana, I am here. Holding you. You have nothing to fear. She can’t emerge if you don’t give her the power to do it.”

“I . . . I don’t want her to hurt you,” Jules whimpered.

“Then fight her!” Ari insisted. “Your love for me, your strength—focus on that.”

She swallowed hard, nodding, and felt a surge of God’s strength and goodness inside her spirit. “Layla, I command you to back down,” she said. “This is my body. Not yours. I have nothing to fear!”

Inside her mind, she heard a screeching taunt.
Nothing to fear but fear itself!
The words cackled inside Jules’s head.
And all the wicked things I’m going to do with Aristos while posing as
you
. Think he’ll recognize the difference? I can be very convincing, as you well know. Ah, and he is quite the handsome man. Wonder what
I
could do with his wings?

“No! You won’t!” Jules screamed, seized again by a convulsion of panicked terror. “Stop toying with him! I insist that you leave my body at once.”

“I’m not stopping anything,” were the words Jules heard in reply, only this time they were coming out of her own mouth as she hovered on that precipice. The spiritual brink where she was losing control over her own body—and Layla was emerging, taking charge.

No! Free me!
she cried out, unable to work her mouth any longer, feeling the demon grow dominant. She was being shoved inside, locked away, and even as she tried to scream no longer had a voice at all.

She went tumbling into the blind, dark, frozen place, and the last thing she heard was Layla laughing. “Be still in there, Juliana,” Layla whispered to her, her emergence complete. “And don’t worry about being gone. I’ll keep Aristos quite busy. I’m only getting started with your man.”

 

“Layla, get back,” Ari said, trying to shove her out of his arms. Her whole physicality had morphed, and she wasn’t even trying to masquerade as Jules. She sidled down between his legs, turning slightly, and the minion actually tried fondling him.

He flung her off at that, and leaped out of the chair, putting as much distance between them as possible. “What are you trying to prove?” he asked, edging toward the library door. He’d get backup, serious Shades and Daughters cover, and they’d deal with her. Now, not later.

“I’m only curious about the very sexy and powerful man who keeps having sex with me,” she said lightly.

“I’m not doing shit with you, demon.”

He remembered Jules saying that she’d not sensed Layla at all during their lovemaking. It was only another tactic. From inside the house, he heard Emma and Sophie, and, sprinting toward that open door, he roared, “Layla! Manifesting, and now!”

Then everything seemed to be happening in a hyper-speed blur. Shay was out of that room, running faster than he’d ever seen her move. His body went haywire, no warning at all about it. Power started flooding into him, such raw energy—it was more intense than any he’d ever known.

He spun, and the Djinn had moved right up onto his ass. “Aristos,” she purred. “I love it when you get so lathered up over me. That is definitely
hot
.” She stroked a hand over her half-exposed breasts. “Like my body. Touch it! Mason’s not here right now, so why can’t we play?” She pouted, looking up at him.

“Juliana’s not here, either. She’s who I want. Let her have control again—now.”

“How boring would that be?” She waved him off and sauntered toward the library’s door. “Mason? Where are you, baby?” she called out into the main hall.

“Leave him out of this,” Ari seethed, forming fists against his thighs. The power ratcheted up, increasing by several large increments, and he could smell sudden smoke from down the hall.

Great; don’t burn the Angels’ home down
, he thought, but he couldn’t stop the overload. He moaned with it, feeling his stomach spasm and his spine burn.

“Show me those wings, won’t you?” Layla teased, walking back toward him like Delilah herself. “I can think of lots of things to do with a feather.”

That was it. Enraged and overrun with his own power, he seized Layla by the upper arms. “Give me Jules back!” he roared into her face. “Leave her body now, Layla. By the Highest God, you may not command this body.”

Layla shrieked at the words, recoiling in horror, and he kept on. “By the name of the Highest God, you must leave her. By God’s authority, you must go.” She began coughing and sputtering, but still there was no sign of Juliana.

“Stop invoking his name. You have no right,” she hissed, her eyes fully red. “You’re not a hunter!”

“No,” a surprisingly calm voice said. “But I am. And you’re going down tonight, once and for all.” Mason Angel moved right up to the demon and slapped his hand across her face.

 

The whole crew had moved into the library, setting about the work of the exorcism once the proverbial starting whistle had sounded. They’d prayed and warred and commanded—and Layla hadn’t relented for a moment. Not by leaving Jules altogether, and definitely not by returning control to her.

Mason’s frustration had started to show in the past few moments, and he finally forced her down onto the hardwood floor, pinning her there by sheer will, because she was strong.

“Come on, Ari!” Mason urged. “Get on over here and do your thing.”

Her eyes rolled back in her head right then, and she began muttering something unintelligible in Persian.

“Why won’t she let Jules come back out?” Ari demanded, kneeling beside her.

Mason shook his head. “Don’t think about that. Just lay your hands on her.”

Ari couldn’t help hesitating. What if he couldn’t control himself enough to keep from hurting Jules?

Mason’s voice got more insistent. “Aristos, seriously. If you ever wanted to go nuclear, do it now. Unload your power on her. Do it now, buddy. Come on!” Mason coached him.

Jamie Angel moved to her other side, squatting beside Mason. “In the name of the Highest God of all, relinquish this body,” Jamie said. “We claim the blood of Jesus Christ over her.”

Wonderful
, Ari thought, because right then Layla, in true demon fashion, began foaming at the mouth like a rabid dog.

“We might hurt Jules,” Ari said, watching Layla’s violent reaction. She began convulsing against the floor, eyes rolling even farther back in her head.

Mason saw his hesitation and, in a decisive move, forced Ari’s hands down onto Layla’s chest. “Come on, man. We might not get a shot like this one again. She’s weakening. Lay it on her!”

Ari focused hard and let loose every bit of power inside his body. It just rolled out, so much easier than usual, a burning cauldron of intensity.

And for a moment, he saw Jules’s auburn hair, a subtle realigning.

“No!” Jamie shouted. “We don’t want Juliana right now. Keep her back,” he commanded the demon. “I have spiritual authority over you. And, Layla, this is you and us, right here and now. Juliana stays out of it.”

The Spartans had circled about them, and as Ari glanced up, blinking at the silver in his vision, it was reassuring to see his brothers. He dug in deeper, unleashed more of what roared in his bloodstream.

Layla howled, a low and rabid sound that made his hair stand on end—and, for just a moment, he eased up. Which was the precise moment she sprouted leather wings and claws, and her whole body became covered with nasty green scales.

“Fire in the hole!” Jamie shouted, and Ari lunged for her, but was too late. She flew out of his grasp, beating those hard, ugly wings right in his face as she moved.

Moved, in fact, right toward the circle of his brother warriors. “Watch out!” Ari shouted, leaping to his feet, chasing after her, but she had the advantage of flight.

River tried to intercept that movement, stepping right into her path.

“River!” Nikos’s voice was filled with true panic. He windmilled his arms, trying to catch the demon’s attentions. And it worked. Layla trained her full focus on Nikos, hissing and panting as she stared him down.

“Me,” Nikos said calmly. “Bring it on. You and me, Layla.”

“Nikos, don’t,” Ari tried cautioning.

But before Ari could fully object, she’d launched herself on Nikos.
Fuck, fuck
, he thought, lunging to block her; he wasn’t fast enough.

There was an ensuing blur of wings and scales, and everyone was moving . . . most especially Layla. She swiped her long claws into Nik’s chest, ripping and tearing at the warrior’s flesh. She was literally unstoppable—as he did everything possible to shake her off, crying out in pain as they swung first in one direction, then another. No matter what that Spartan did, she only rode him harder; blood came pouring out of Nik’s chest, pumping outward in a warm, crimson stream. The demon laughed, flying upward toward the ceiling. “Oh, my,” she said. “I seem to have caused some trouble!”

Mason stood paralyzed, gaping at Nikos, then took one staggering step toward him. “Nik . . . Nik,” he cried out, both hands reaching toward the man.

“Oh, Mason!” Layla trilled, suspending herself high above them all. She gave him a flirtatious little wave. “If I can’t have you, darling,” she said huskily. “Well . . . we’ve already learned that nobody else can.”

Dangling her hand in the air, she held something that looked like a necklace, and it swung back and forth like a pendulum. “Been looking for these?”

Mason stared up, his face crumpling. “No . . . no,” he cried out.

“I took these as a reminder of our special night. A souvenir, if you will. But you can have them back now.”

Not a necklace; dog tags, Ari realized with a chill; they went sailing out of Layla’s hands as she flew toward the open doors to the balcony. The tags soared downward, barely missing Mason’s head and clattering on the floor.

Mace didn’t even look at them, never watched the demon fly about the room. Didn’t even seem to hear her taunting declaration, “It’s always the men you want. Such a pity that you can’t want me.”

Mason didn’t register her words at all. His eyes were locked on Nikos, whose shirt was now soaked in crimson blood, a growing stain covering his chest.

Nikos glanced downward, touching the gaping wound in surprise. As if he couldn’t quite believe all the blood and guts that were pouring out of him were actually his.

And, oh, by the gods, Ari realized, it wasn’t just his chest; Nik had a big, gaping hole in his abdomen that might even have been worse.

Nik just kept staring at Ari, clearly realizing he’d been mortally wounded—but neither of them moved or said a word. It was a silent, slow- motion moment, one Ari had experienced countless times on the battlefield. Then Nikos glanced down at his belly, pressing his hand against the horrific wound. Eyes widening, he released a distended “Ohhh” sound.

And then, that brave warrior, a man Ari had fought beside for most of his life, dropped to the ground like a felled, mighty oak.

 

She could regain control—Juliana knew it, sensed some fundamental weakening in Layla’s hold over her right then. But were they . . . flying? Had Layla levitated, used her wings? Jules couldn’t see a thing, not in the place of darkness where the demon had her locked away. But she could sense those shackles loosening very rapidly; Layla’s strength, she’d learned, always had a time limit, and the demon was losing her hold.

Still, what if they were midflight when Juliana regained dominance over her own body? That could be deathly, truly disastrous—couldn’t it?

Juliana pushed the hesitation aside. There was no time to worry about the consequences of forcing Layla into submission. True, Jules might fall, but if she were fortunate, Layla wasn’t very high up.

I won’t let you
, Layla hissed inside her mind.

Actually
, Juliana insisted,
I won’t let you stay. Or hurt anyone else!

Juliana reached with her spirit, how she couldn’t say, but she propelled every bit of internal will and determination that she’d ever possessed, and then she was coughing. The room’s lights were shockingly bright, so she blinked, still coughing.

That was the moment she realized she was tumbling down from the full height of that sixteen-foot ceiling. She screamed, flailing her arms, almost feeling Layla’s absent wings upon her back, but knowing they were gone. That she was helpless.

Face-first, she hurtled downward, knowing she would die . . . again.

Except she didn’t. All at once, she was cushioned securely by the most comforting, reassuring presence she could have hoped for. Aristos scooped her right up into his arms, his bold wings beating against the air. He held her suspended in his grasp, feeling over her with his hands, obviously needing to know that she was all right.