Stolen (Edgefield Slayers Book 2) Page 2

  “I agree. I was only going to say that I’ll go back and talk with them. Perhaps I can get them to see reason.” He frowned. “I won’t pretend to understand them, but if I can convince them—”

  “You can’t,” she interrupted, as the bailiffs opened the door to the holding room. “They give the word ‘stubborn’ a whole new meaning.”

  “Still,” he said, backing away. “I will try before they throw me out of here.” He hesitated. “Good luck, Krista.”

  The bailiffs left her alone. She paced the room as they stationed themselves outside the door, and it took her all of two minutes to realize the wall-mounted television was quietly telling her everything about the soul-stealing crime spree that was sweeping through Edgefield.

  She grabbed the remote and turned up the volume.

  Most demons—especially demon lords—seemed to have a built-in radar for innocence. They felt it, hated it, wanted to destroy it. They also craved it.

  Now one of them was using it.

  They ran a video in which the children’s families were being interviewed. They showed empty-eyed children with blank faces and unmoving bodies, their parents weeping softly as the interviewer tried to coax the children into some sort of response.

  It never happened. Only one of them opened his mouth, but no words came out. Only drool.

  It broke her fucking heart.

  And then, she saw the demon lord.

  The video was low quality, grainy and dark, but she recognized him immediately. The video had caught him shoving a limp child against a wall, his teeth buried in her neck as he sucked the blood and soul from inside her.

  The demon was not Triganoth Deorthorak, and something deep inside her eased. She hadn’t even realized she’d been worried about that possibility.

  The soul-stealing asshole was Vogdris, the church demon. The one who’d put Luke in the hospital. The one Trig had saved her from.

  And she was going to kill him.

  She was a demon slayer. She couldn’t watch one of the sons of bitches attacking children and refuse to put him down.

  Nope.

  She clenched her fists so hard her nails bloodied her palms, but she barely felt the pain. Enraged, she strode to the door and banged on it until one of the men opened it to see what she wanted.

  “Go tell them I’ll take their deal,” she said. “And get me out of here. I have a demon to kill.”

  When she made up her mind to hunt Vogdris, she could barely sit still. She couldn’t sit still in the best of times, and with her sudden comprehension of the horror sweeping through her city, the impatience to act tightened her chest so fiercely she couldn’t draw a deep breath.

  But the council forced her to stay put until the next morning.

  “We must get everything in order,” one of the aides told her. “We’ll call you for discharge as soon as your papers are ready. It shouldn’t take you more than half an hour to sign them all.”

  He and another aide had walked her back to her room—her cell—without the burly guards who’d escorted her to the hearing room each day. Apparently, now that she’d agreed to their demands, the CIA was willing to treat her a little less like a dangerous criminal.

  After a sleepless night—though all of her nights in Virginia had been sleepless—only one aide came to escort her to her discharge.

  On the way to sign the papers, she spotted a man leaning against the wall of the hallway, his arms crossed, watching her walk toward him.

  Beside her, the aide stiffened, then cleared his throat nervously. His stare, she noted, was glued to the stranger, and his hand shook when he smoothed his spotless white shirt.

  “Who is that?” Krista asked.

  The aide ignored her. Likely, he hadn’t even heard her.

  The stranger towered over her when she walked by him, and when his bright blue eyes met hers, she found she couldn’t tear her stare away. He was dressed in a suit, which seemed standard for the CIA, and his hair, while just a little too long for the stodgy council, was perfectly neat.

  “Ms. Lennox,” he said. “I’ll be pleased to drive you home.” Despite his words, his voice was as frosty as a late December night. His stare didn’t warm, either, and he watched her with eyes like frozen blue ice chips.

  She shivered as a cold chill ran down her spine, but no matter how much she wanted to, she refused to rub at the goosebumps on her arms.

  She stopped walking and held out a hand, and was pleased when her voice came out perfectly normal. “And you are?”

  He dropped his gaze to her hand but didn’t take it. She was pretty sure she saw a ripple of distaste cross his handsome face.

  When he said nothing, the aide stepped forward, trying to smile. “I apologize. Let me make introductions. This—”

  “I’m Rafael,” the man interrupted. “The agency will discharge you, and I’ll be waiting outside to take you home.”

  He didn’t look like a CIA agent. He didn’t look like a hired driver, either.

  Then someone touched her arm and she dragged her stare from Rafael to see Asa Flynn standing beside her. “No need,” he told Rafael. “I will be taking her home.”

  Asa’s beautiful, familiar face might possibly have been the best thing she’d ever seen. She didn’t hesitate to throw herself into his arms. She was pretty sure Rafael would be watching that display with a curled lip, his nose in the air, but she didn’t give a shit.

  “Asa.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her lips against his throat. “It is so good to see you.”

  When she pulled herself away from Asa, Rafael was gone.

  2

  An hour later she left CIA headquarters, a file on her cell phone telling her everything she needed to know about the demon lord and the souls he’d stolen in the last two days. Not that she really needed the file.

  After she called Maggie, Asa caught her up with everything that had happened since she’d been gone.

  Changes had come to Edgefield.

  A dark cloud seemed to hang over her beloved city. She put her window down as Asa eased through the streets, and inhaled deeply of the crisp October air. It helped blow the fog from her mind.

  Black streamers hung from several houses. She’d learned from the file that families of ‘zombified’ children had begun hanging the streamers only that morning. If help came, they wanted it to know where to stop.

  The council had bought several acres at the edge of the city and had been busy clearing the land, and the foundations had already been laid for several structures.

  Asa didn’t know exactly what they were building, but he’d heard that the CIA was taking a more active role in many of the cities. That they wanted to keep an eye on the slayers, as well. Offer more support.

  “They want more control,” she said. Then she sighed. “Edgefield hasn’t fully recovered from the demon infestation, and now they have to deal with a demon lord attacking their little ones. I have maybe a week or two to kill him.”

  When they pulled into her drive, Kyle Ricci was waiting. He shook her hand, patted Asa on the shoulder, and turned down her invitation to go inside and visit.

  “What’s your first order of business?” he asked, as he stood at the open back door of his car. His driver stared straight ahead, patient and silent.

  “I’m going hunting,” she said. “I have to kill Vogdris before he absorbs those stolen souls.”

  His gaze drifted to her scar. “The soul-stealer is not the demon who marked you?”

  “No. My demon lord would not harm children.”

  He lifted his eyebrows. “Your demon lord?”

  She flushed. “You know what I mean.”

  A spark of sympathy lit his eyes. “I’m afraid I do.”

  She stared back at him. “I appreciate you helping me deal with the council, Kyle. But don’t be a dick.”

  He shrugged. “My advice is to spend the next week with your daughter. Get your house in order. Then go to Darkwell and serve out your five ye
ars. Five years of hell is better than an eternity of death.”

  She curled her lip. “I’m going to hunt and kill a soul-stealing demon lord.”

  “And the other bit?”

  “The only way to find out who summoned him is to ask him. I don’t think he’ll be forthcoming about that.”

  “Then you’ll still serve your five years.”

  “But I will have taken out a baby killer first.”

  He was silent for a few moments. “Asa is right about you. You’re a special woman.” There was a tinge of regret in his voice.

  She wasn’t going to ask him why.

  “If I can do anything,” he said, “anything at all, you let me know. If you can’t reach me, let Asa know you need me.”

  “Thanks, Kyle. For everything.”

  She walked to the house with Asa. She leaned back against the door and stared up at him, allowing some relief to seep into her heart. She was home. Maybe not for long, but for now.

  His face was expressionless but she could feel his emotions. Asa might have perfected the art of hiding his feelings, but he was the most passionate, loyal, protective man she knew.

  She smiled and touched his face. “Hi.”

  “I wanted to tell you…”

  “What?” she asked.

  “Maggie was right.” His voice was a soft caress.

  “Oh?”

  “I have loved you forever.”

  She blinked back sudden tears. “I may not have loved you forever, but I love you now,” she told him.

  He closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against hers. “Say that again.”

  “I love you, Asa.”

  He brushed her hair off her cheek. “They didn’t hurt you.”

  “No. But…”

  He sighed. “Tell me.”

  “I have to kill the soul-stealer and deliver his head and his summoner’s name to the CIA. If I do that, my five-year sentence will disappear. If I don’t…” She shrugged. “I’m going to Darkwell for five years.”

  His laugh was low and almost teasing, and caused something deep inside her to tighten. “No. You won’t be going to Darkwell.”

  “They’re the CIA. I’m pretty sure they can do whatever they want with me.”

  He shook his head. “You don’t belong to them. They had you for three weeks. They won’t get you again.”

  She laughed, pleased with him. “You won’t let anything bad happen to me.”

  “Not if I can stop it.” He put his arm around her and turned her toward the stairs. “Maggie will be home in an hour. I need to feel you naked against me before she gets here.”

  She laced her fingers with his as they walked. “She’s good?”

  “She’s excellent.”

  “Asa…”

  “Tomorrow you can work. You can hunt a demon lord. You can immerse yourself in the tragedy of the soulless children. You can set out to save them. But right now…” He stopped walking abruptly, grabbed her face, and shoved his mouth against hers.

  He tasted of expensive whiskey and smelled of familiar cologne. He kissed her like it was his last time with her, and like it was his first.

  Like he was a dying man and only she could save him.

  He devoured her right there, too impatient to wait until they reached the bedroom. And she forgot where they were. A few moments later, she no longer cared.

  All that mattered was Asa Flynn and his lips, his tongue, his hands. Most of all, his love. She’d never been loved so completely, so unconditionally, so carefully.

  She liked it.

  She liked it a lot.

  Navigating the stairs took a little skill and way too much time, but she was lost in his kiss and didn’t care. They left a trail of clothes from the stairs to her bedroom.

  She may have hurt him with the strength of her passion, but he wasn’t the type to complain. He was the type to enjoy it. Her passion was for him, and he would gladly take it all.

  “I have loved you forever.”

  He lowered her to the bed and slid down her naked body, nipping her with his teeth, then immediately soothing the sting with his tongue. He hooked his arms behind her knees, buried his face between her legs, and licked her with strong, slow strokes. She would have cried out but when she opened her mouth to do so, all she could manage was a wheezing whisper scream.

  Finally, he entered her, muttering a curse between clenched teeth as he slid into her warm, slick wetness. She orgasmed as he watched her, his stare fierce and hot and possessive. He withdrew with excruciating slowness, then thrust himself again into her depths.

  “Mine,” he murmured.

  There was no time to play, to linger. That would come later. Right then, she just needed to feel him. She hadn’t had a loving touch the entire time she’d been with the CIA. It had been like living in an icy new land with cold people, fog, and darkness. Asa was sunshine, and he was warming her up.

  His skin was hot and smooth beneath her fingertips, his muscles hard, his body strong. Hers. No matter what, Asa was hers. She was his. And it was perfect.

  He opened his mouth over hers, swallowing her cries as she climaxed. His tongue brushed hers and then, he came with her.

  She was home.

  And after a difficult few weeks, she could finally breathe again.

  3

  Nearly an hour later, she sat at the kitchen table, a cup of coffee in front of her. Asa tied an apron over his crisp, black button-up shirt, then took a shallow pan from the pot rack. A tiny smile played over his lips as he caught her watching him.

  “That’s hot,” she told him. “I like it when you cook for me.”

  “I like taking care of you.”

  “You do it very well.”

  He sent her a wink, then turned the stove on. “CIA food not good?”

  “It’s delicious.”

  He lifted an eyebrow. “Really?”

  “Oh yes. If your tastes run toward unseasoned lumps of cardboard paste, they do the best food ever. And it was always the same—breakfast, lunch, and dinner.”

  He grinned and drizzled some oil into a hot skillet. “I’ll soon make you forget.”

  She stood, hurried to him, and wrapped her arms around his waist. “You already have.” She couldn’t stand not touching him. The cold of the council’s compound had seeped into her very bones, and her flesh was starved for touch. Her heart was starved for it, as well.

  “Krista,” he said, gently. “I’ve got you.”

  She rubbed her face against his shirt. “You’d think I’d spent the last month chained in a dungeon and beaten daily.”

  The kitchen door slammed back against the wall as a nearly fourteen-year-old girl barreled into the room. “Ma!”

  Krista pulled away from Asa and opened her arms. “Mags,” she murmured, then buried her nose in her daughter’s familiar hair. “I missed you so much.”

  Since Maggie had lost her bhorn she was different. The differences were subtle, but Krista knew her daughter. She saw the tiny changes. Maggie was lighter without the weight of the monster crushing her. The shadows in her eyes were gone now that she didn’t have to worry about dying before her nineteenth birthday, or changing into a hideous, hunted, flesh-eating monster, or leaving her mother to face the world without her.

  Yeah, she was changed, and they had the demon lord to thank for it. He’d given them that gift.

  Maggie pulled back enough to look Krista over, her practiced gaze missing nothing. “Asa swore they wouldn’t hurt you.”

  “They didn’t touch me,” Krista promised. “They’re not assholes, hon.” Darkwell would likely be a different matter, but she wasn’t telling Maggie about Darkwell. Not yet. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. Better now that you’re home safe. Triganoth isn’t the one stealing souls?” There was only a tiny wobble in her voice.

  “No,” Krista said. “I wouldn’t be drawn to that sort of evil, marked or not. And he wouldn’t have gone out of his way to save your life if he mea
nt to harm other children. Besides, I saw an image of the attacker. It’s Vogdris the church demon.”

  “When he disappeared,” Asa said, shutting the door, “I thought Triganoth had killed him.”

  “So did I. Wishful thinking, I guess.”

  “I’m going to get cleaned up for dinner,” Maggie said. “I’ll be right back.” She gave her mother a kiss on the cheek, then hurried from the room.

  Krista sat down, smiling. “She has so much more energy now that she’s well.”

  “Now that you’re back,” Asa said. Then, “Michael has been trying to call her. He came by once yesterday.”

  She clenched her fists. “Fuck him.” She hesitated, dreading the answer to the question she was about to ask. “Did she talk to him?”

  “No, but the calls are hard on her. She would like to believe he had a moment of insanity and truly loves her.”

  “That’s what he said on her voicemail?”

  “Yeah. She had me listen and delete.”

  “What happened when he came by?”

  He turned from the stove to look at her. “Maggie wasn’t here, so I was free to kick his ass.”

  She burst into surprised laughter. “You fought Michael?”

  “I hit him, he hit the floor. If you want to call that a fight, then yeah.”

  Before she could ask anything else, the kitchen door opened once again and Barbie Keller and Talon Delacorte walked into the room.

  “Greetings, Bloodspeller,” Barbie called, giving Krista a smile and an airy wave. “I’m only here for Asa’s cooking, but Talon has come to welcome his partner home.”

  Barbie worked for Edgefield’s largest hospital. The demon invasion had made them aware of just how desperately they needed their own focused protection. Barbie had left her old city and her old partner and moved to Edgefield.

  “Greetings, Firespeller,” Krista returned, happy to see the two exorcists.

  Talon—their moonspeller—glanced at her, gave her a nod, then went to see what Asa was cooking. He was officially Krista’s new partner, though they hadn’t done a whole lot of partnering before she’d been hauled away to Virginia.