Unearthed (34 page)

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Authors: Lauren Stewart

Tags: #Contemporary, #Fantasy, #Fiction, #Paranormal, #Romance, #Supernatural

BOOK: Unearthed
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“I was thinking more along the lines of, ‘Don’t do it, you idiot.’”

He grimaced before holding her tighter. “I prefer mine.”

She wasn’t sure what to do, other than kiss him. He picked her up again and carried her all the way to his apartment without bumping into anything or anyone. There were some definite perks to being with a demon.

Only after he’d set her down on his bed and laid down beside her did he take his lips off her.

“Puppet?” He didn’t meet her eyes as he ran his fingertips along her jaw, warming her cheek. “You were right about you and me.”

“Which part?”

“I’m pretty sure this is more than a thing.”

“Yeah, me too.”

That was probably as close as they’d ever get to telling each other how they felt. Keira already knew, from the way he held her, kissed her, made her feel safe for the first time she could remember.

Anyway, some things were too complex for simple words. Especially something that wasn’t just a thing… It was everything.

Thirty-Two

Davyn pulled away from the hunter for the first time in not long enough. Unfortunately, as valuable as moments with her were, he still had shit to do, namely making sure she would have more time after he was gone. And leads like the one that had just shown up in his head didn’t come around too often. Especially with Lamere.

“Where are you going?” She popped up, wide-awake as soon as his feet hit the floor. That’s what you get when you sleep next to a warrior. Well, that and someone with excellent flexibility, strength, and endurance. Damn, he was going to miss her. He’d be a lot less sexually frustrated, but he’d much rather deal with that than what was coming.

“Before I go back, I need to make him dead.”

“So you were going to sneak out without telling me? Break our deal.”

“I’ve never broken a deal. My plan was to find him, dramatically and painfully incapacitate him, and then call you.”

“I don’t have a phone.”

“Teleport, telephone—same prefix, same result.”

“Do you know where he is?”

“Maybe. He was feeding a couple blocks from here. I saw him through the mind of his dinner, or maybe she was a
hors d'oeuvre
, ’cause for a second there I saw another woman. The bleeder’s gone now, but she met Lamere just after sunset, in front of those lofts they’re building on the pier. If he decided to hang around…”

“I’m coming with you.”

“Of course you are,” he grumbled.

In seconds, she’d thrown on some clothes and was tapping her boot against the floor impatiently. He kept her waiting until he’d made a decision. He would never break their deal, but he could bend it a little.

The construction company’s fence kept everyone off the whole pier and blocked the people taking an evening stroll from seeing in. Davyn and Keira skipped the first few buildings—too much light from the Embarcadero. Lamere was the kind of guy who enjoyed eating in peace and darkness, and if he was taking a girl out for dinner, it would be farther down the dock. Davyn concentrated more on the ground than anything else—if the salt trick happened again, he’d be ashamed to call himself a demon.

It was a new-build area, only empty because of the hour, but when construction was complete, these lofts were going to be lux and hugely over-priced. If Davyn didn’t hate seawater and planned to stay around a while longer, he might’ve looked into buying one.

He stopped when he sensed panic, grabbing Keira’s arm and gesturing for silence. “You should be awed by how good I am.”

“Awed, yeah, sure. What did you sense?”

“I was right—there were two.” Davyn could sense a general direction, but nothing specific. “Where are you, you little prick?”

The woman’s mind was firing on nothing but blind fear, completely focused but not on anything Davyn could use to find her. Unfortunately for her, Lamere wasn’t using his power to fog her reality and shock hadn’t set in yet, so she knew what he was and what he was going to do to her. Davyn had never pitied a human like this before.

Then he got it—a location at the end of the pier. The woman’s thoughts were still vague, but they gave him enough to track. She’d be dead before he got there, unless…

He looked at Keira. “We won’t get there in time, not unless I phase. Without you. Tell me what to do.”

She didn’t hesitate. “Go. I’ll catch up.”

Nodding, he pointed towards his destination. “Last building on the right. Southwest corner. I’ll try not to kill him all the way, but move your ass just in case.”

He phased into a hallway a few doors down from where Lamere had the woman. When her pain started, Davyn had to break from her mind. She wouldn’t give him any more information, so his best guess was all he had. As soon as his bearings were gotten, he moved.

A splatter of blood stained the brand-new sheetrock in the apartment’s entryway, pooled on bamboo flooring. It wasn’t in Davyn’s nature to care about one human death, but since Keira had ruined him, he had a moment of regret that he hadn’t gotten there faster.

Then he smelled it—hate, greed, and violence all in one scent.
Home
. Someone just opened a portal here. A big one. And it was still open. The stench of hell permeated everything. Davyn moved through the living room slowly, carefully, edging his way to the crack in a swinging door. He peeked through to see exactly what he was stepping into. Because it was so close to his time to be re-forged, he felt the portal’s pull, his body filled with a mixture of craving and repulsion. The heat of temptation drew him closer to a place of destruction. Too late, he sensed the vampire—too late to stop the bastard from landing his foot in the middle of Davyn’s back, shoving him forward, into the door and through it.

Cursing loudly, he caught himself at the portal’s edge, arms extended for balance, keeping him on earth. The black hole was even bigger than he’d thought, taking up almost the entire kitchen. True darkness is rare on earth, not in hell. There was no salt ring or protective spells. Just a big motherfucking gate to the underworld. Davyn couldn’t move, willing himself to be stronger than he’d ever been, to fight the vacuum that would take him away from Keira.

With nothing to lose, he threw himself backwards, using his height and reach to grab hold of a lifeline, something he could leverage to drag himself away. His fingers dug into the lip of the granite countertop, slipping on the smooth stone, clutching a cabinet door until it ripped off its hinges.

“Time you returned home, demon.” Lamere walked into the room, smiling calmly like a child watching a cartoon character run away from a train. The pull didn’t have as strong an effect on other races, but what the vamp obviously didn’t understand was that a gateway this big could go bad in so many directions—impossible to control what went in and, more importantly, what came out. Lamere stomped on Davyn’s hand, pressing it to the ground and grinding his heel into it. “I said it is time you returned home.”

“Don’t do this, vamp. Trust me, you don’t want to do this.” Davyn could handle a little pain, especially knowing how much pain there would be if he let go. But leave it to the psychopath to come up with something creative.

The knife Lamere pulled out was a rusted relic from the past, but its magic kept the blade ever sharp. Davyn cursed as it sliced through the flesh and bone of his little finger. Then another. And another. Each cut taking away the possibility the demon could get out of this.

The crack of his own bones seemed louder than it could possibly be, louder even than his threats and screams.

Panting, he looked up at the vampire crouched next to Davyn’s bloody hand, looking so fucking smug. “You bastard.” He would rip him into a thousand pieces. A billion. “You have no idea what you’ve just done.”

With fewer fingers to grip with, Davyn slipped, the portal immediately taking up the slack. The pain was beyond imagining for anyone who’d never been to hell. His heat had already burned through the hardwood and padding. The cement under-flooring offered nothing he could hold onto besides a couple cracks. It didn’t do shit against the force trying to suck him in.

Lamere slowly sliced through Davyn’s wrist, sawing through muscle and tendon. Once half of it was severed, the demon lost control of his hand, its connection to his mind. One hand with nothing substantial to grab onto wasn’t going to be enough.

“You just guaranteed her death, you stupid asshole,” Davyn said through a jaw as locked down as every other muscle in his body, trying to hold onto this world. He fought it desperately, even knowing he wouldn’t win. No way he could get out of this, back to her.

Demons didn’t fail, not ones who’d made it to Level One. But Davyn had always been different, and this proved it. He couldn’t keep her safe. He couldn’t keep his promise to never hurt her again.

Lamere watched Davyn’s suffering with a smile on his face. “She was never yours, demon. Imagine what would’ve happened had I let you deceive her any longer.”

“Leave her alone. Please, you pompous asshole, leave her alone.” That wasn’t enough anymore. In a little while, Davyn would be just as dangerous to her. This was why he didn’t want to go back, why he’d accepted his fate in Level Nine.

Lamere had guaranteed Keira’s death, guaranteed that even if he didn’t kill her, Davyn would. The last thing she’d see would be the face of her murderer, and the last thing she felt would be his hand on her chest, burning the heart that had given Davyn more than even an angel could imagine.

Unwilling to give up, he tried to claw his way back, even as he saw his one remaining hand slide backwards, felt the scrape of the floor on his skin. Lamere stepped back from the portal and the visibly burned parts of the hardwood floor. The vampire didn’t know about the lining just underneath the water barrier. It wasn’t done burning, it was only beginning. Eventually it would jump from the under-floor to the carpet, then onto the walls. Then it would take the entire building down. And everyone in it.

“Keira, get out of here!” he screamed as he was sucked into the darkness. “Run!”

Thirty-Three

Southwest corner, right?
Where was everyone?

Davyn had said they were in the southwest corner of the building. Keira was sure of it. And then she heard a thud coming from upstairs.

“Would’ve been nice to know what floor.” She sprinted back to the stairway and took the stairs two at a time, finding herself in an identical hallway. “Southwest.”

She’d planned to move slowly, quietly, but broke back into a run when she heard a yell. Davyn’s? If he’d found Lamere, she had to hurry before he ‘accidentally’ dusted the vamp. She needed to see Lamere’s eyes, feel the stake go into his chest.

“Davyn!” she called when the yelling disappeared, along with a low growl she hadn’t noticed until it was gone. Until everything was completely silent. “Davyn, where are you?”

It was stupid to worry—there wasn’t much that could stop him. She expected to hear the woman crying, assuming Davyn got here before Lamere killed her. Nothing.

The air was too still, too heavy, too hot. She slowed down, trusting her instincts even though every part of her body wanted to move faster, find him, make sure everything wasn’t as bad as she feared.

As she got closer, she smelled melted wood or plastic, maybe a combination. Since there wasn’t any smoke, it could’ve been paint or solvent, normal smells of construction.

No, nothing about this was normal.

The scent changed, strengthening farther down the corridor. At the end, two doors faced each other. Only one was open. It smelled like death, pungent, and stung the inside of her nose and lungs.

Brimstone.
Deal with it now and worry about it later.
Right now she needed both of her hands. If she covered her nose or even wiped her watering eyes, she’d be more vulnerable and less ready to fight.

Great. Another portal. Which meant there might be another demon around here, too. A quiet one.

“Davyn?” she whispered, no longer sure he was okay. Knowing she wasn’t safe and should run, but unable to leave him behind.

Her stomach clenched with the overwhelming feeling that something horrible had happened here. And that was before she saw smears of blood on the floor.

“Davyn?” she called a little louder, slowly walking towards where the blood and stench were thickest.

“I’m proud of you,
chérie
.” Lamere stepped between her and the door, his voice a toxin to her system.

“What?” She tasted bile in her throat. She’d heard exactly what he said and, worse, she knew why he was proud. It crushed her right back into the person who’d let him abuse her. Who should’ve done something to stop him.

No
. That person had been strong enough to come back, to heal, turn weak instincts into powerful ones. Useful ones. She may not have known how to get out, but she hadn’t crumbled or gone insane once she was free.

Remember that. Not the weakness.

Not the weakness. I’m not weak.
“Where’s Davyn?”

The vamp ignored her, content to stare at her with a condescending smile, his hands in his pockets. He wasn’t at all concerned she’d do any damage to him and, worse, he must not think he’d be fighting a demon any time soon.

“Where is he?” She tried not to give away how much she needed to know where he’d put Davyn. There had to be a salt circle somewhere in this apartment, but how did he get Davyn to shut up? Salt didn’t stop demons from talking. And why did it stink of hell?

“You angered me the last time we were together,
ma belle
. It is not like you to be so unkind, nor is it like you to keep me waiting so long. I do not enjoy your tardiness.” He’d known she was coming here. It was a setup. “But I forgive you.”

“How did you even know I was alive?”

He looked confused. “Because I can feel your heartbeat.”

Bullshit. “You can’t feel anything, let alone my heartbeat. If you could, you would’ve known I wasn’t dead when you tossed me into that ditch.”

“Do you think that’s what happened? That I threw you away?” He laughed silently. “No,
chérie
. I could never throw you away. I feel too deeply for you.” Each of his steps forward made her step back, until he’d maneuvered her into a large empty room. Someday this might be a place a family would make good memories. Ones they wanted to keep. “You don’t remember, do you? What I said to you when I laid you by the road. When our lips met one final time.” His eyes were distant, as if he really was remembering, as if it had been a magical moment he could still picture after all this time.

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