Demon Desire: Book 4 of the Venandi Chronicles ( An Urban Paranormal Romance Series) Read online

  Carter rose. “You still have the piece of the telum that we gave you, right? We need to make sure that Paimon can’t find it again. Is there something you can do to hide it from him?”

  Olympia pulled the piece from her bag, eyeing its obsidian length in her hands as she thought it over in silence for a minute before answering. “I may have an idea. If I can modify my invisibility spell using a bit of a reversal of my scrying technique as inspiration, I think I can figure it out. Just give me a few minutes.”

  Olympia wandered off with the telum piece, taking a seat a decent way away from the rest of us. Carter sat back down at my side,

  After sitting for a few minutes, I was beginning to feel a bit more steady. Some of the soreness had faded away from my limbs, and my hands trembled a bit less than before. I made my way slowly over to Jose, who still sat with his leg bent gingerly, avoiding pressing the back of his injured thigh to the ground to keep the pressure off of it. I scooted up close, laying my hand delicately over the wound. Jose jumped a bit at the sting of my hand, but he quickly relaxed as I willed my healing energy into his leg as much as I could, though I still felt the weight of exhaustion on my shoulders.

  “Thanks.” Jose said, his voice sounding less strained than it had before. “Feels a lot better now.”

  “I’m glad,” I said. “I’m sorry, Jose. I got us into this mess.”

  Jose shook his head. “You didn’t do anything that I wouldn’t have done in your place.”

  “None of this is supposed to be easy, Georgia,” Eli said. “You can’t have all the answers for everything. We’re all out of our element here, you just did what you thought was the right move. Don’t kick yourself for it. You couldn’t have known.”

  I stared at the ground as I continued to heal Jose’s leg. Eli was right, of course, but for some reason I couldn’t shake the guilt. Regardless of my intentions, we were all in a bad spot now because of my actions. Jacob was still gone, and no amount of self-forgiveness would change that. Of course I was glad that the others didn’t seem to hold it against me, but I didn’t know how not to hold it against myself.

  We all fell into silence again as I continued to work on Jose’s leg, though I found myself distracted. The image of Jacob slipping over the edge of the fissure was burned into my mind, replaying the image over and over again—his face tough with exertion as he tried to pull himself back up, his knuckles white as they gripped at the ground, his eyes fixed on me. And then he was gone. The more I mulled the image over in my mind, though, the less sense it started to make.

  Bebal could have easily killed Jacob right in front of us—he had him literally impaled on his sword, there was no reason that he couldn’t have ended it right then and there. Why throw him back to me?

  I didn’t want to say anything yet, feeling absolutely crazy for thinking this. Was I just in denial? Surely, it was as simple as it seemed, and I just had to accept it. Sometimes, the right answer really is the most obvious one. But what if it wasn’t? Holding onto hope like this just seemed like a way to hurt my feelings more later, but something in me couldn’t let it go. Why not kill him directly to get to me, just like he’d threatened to do?

  Was there something that Bebal needed from him?

  Bebal had to have known that Jacob would be the only one weak enough not to make the jump over the fissure—it wasn’t that long of a leap. If he’d really wanted all of us, he could have simply split the ground wider or even just opened the ground up beneath our feet and let us fall. He needed me alive, but why would he spare Carter? And more strikingly, I’m the one he needed alive—why not focus on capturing me instead?

  He had to be focused on something besides killing Carter and Jacob and capturing me, but what could he possibly need from Jacob?

  “You alright, Georgia?” Carter whispered, kneeling down next to me.

  “Hmm? Oh, sorry. Got stuck in my head,” I answered.

  “I can tell. Jose seems like he’s good now,” he said, nodding toward the spot where my hand rested on Jose’s leg.

  I pulled away from Jose, inspecting the wound—or the spot where the wound used to be. It had completely faded away, leaving only dried blood smeared across his skin and clothes.

  “Good as new, I guess,” I remarked with a weak laugh.

  Jose beamed. “Thanks, Georgia.”

  “Anyone else hurt?” I asked, surveying my friends.

  Carter shook his head. “Just tired.”

  I looked to Eli, who, like Jose, was covered in a decent amount of blood. “Eli?”

  “I’m fine, thanks,” he said, crossing his arms.

  I could tell that wasn’t true, noticing his forearms littered with cuts and bruises beneath the torn fabric of his shirt. I wobbled to my feet, but Eli quickly waved me away, his stiff expression softening.

  “Sit. You can fix me up later, it’s nothing major,” he said firmly. “You need to rest.”

  I was hesitant to just leave Eli in pain like that. I made my way over to him, placing my hands atop his crossed arms, willing my healing energy into him.

  “Georgia,” he chastised. I expected him to back away, but he didn’t. Instead, he uncrossed his arms slowly, not breaking our contact, holding them out to give me easier access. “Thank you,” he said quietly.

  His wounds were plenty, some fairly deep, and it took a few minutes to get them all, but once finishing up with them and the deeper one that I noticed ripped across his shoulder, he seemed to be a bit more relaxed, some of the hard anger easing from his body. He helped Jose to his feet, both of them shaking out their injured limbs experimentally.

  “That really is incredible, Georgia!” Jose exclaimed, poking curiously where his leg had been gashed. “Doesn’t even feel like there was anything there at all!”

  I couldn’t help but smile a bit. “Glad to be of service.”

  I felt Carter’s hand on my arm, urging me toward him. He pulled me closer, brushing some disheveled hair from my face, looking me over. His touch was warm, and it felt nice, the only part of my body that felt good in that moment. It felt secure.

  “Are you sure you’re alright?” Carter asked. “You seem… distant. It’s okay if you’re not alright, you know. None of us are alright.”

  “I know. I’m… Just thinking, that’s all,” I said.

  There was no way I was sharing my thoughts on Jacob’s demise with him. He’d think I was insane. I mean, Jacob was swallowed by a pit. To say that he might still be alive would just broadcast to everyone that I was crazy. But maybe I was. What would the demon kings of all people have wanted him alive for? They love to kill and destroy and ruin things, and when it came to me, they liked those things twice as much, apparently. To have seen what we saw and think there was any chance that those bastards had spared him—that was some pretty damn deep denial.

  He studied my face. “It’s going to take its toll on all of us, but you can tell me what you’re feeling, Georgia. That’s what I’m here for.”

  “I know… There’s just a lot going through my head. It’s all too hard to explain.”

  He opened his mouth but quickly closed it again before pausing. “You can always tell me if something’s wrong, I mean, I know everything is wrong but… you’ll tell me, right?”

  “Of course,” I said, stepping forward to wrap my arms around him, pulling myself into his chest. He returned my hold, his hand resting gently on the back of my neck to smooth down my hair as his other arm squeezed me tightly. He held me there until he took me by the arms and separated himself from me, his eyes drawn over my shoulder. I turned to follow his gaze and saw Olympia approaching with the telum held toward us in her outstretched hand.

  “Should be good to go,” she said as I took the weapon from her. “The kings shouldn’t be able to follow its magic anymore.”

  “Thanks, Olympia,” I said, working up to a smile. “Don’t know what we’d do without you.”

  “It’s nothing. So… what do we do now?” she asked.

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bsp; I looked to Carter—without Jacob, it seemed as if he would be our team’s de facto leader. Everyone else’s eyes followed mine. He thought for a moment, searching the ground for answers, his eyes flickering from debris piece to debris piece.

  “Well,” he started. “We should find somewhere to stay. We all need to rest, and I think we’ve put enough of those demons out of commission to be safe for a minute. We should focus on regrouping and then we can plan our next step from there. And after losing Jacob…” He looked toward the spot where the fissure had swallowed him and his jaw clenched.

  He probably had the scene on repeat in his mind just like I did. He stood silently for a moment, but didn’t finish the thought.

  He cleared his throat. “Either way, cops will be here any minute. No way people won’t notice that huge explosion.”

  It seemed like the most sensible move, but something about the idea of sitting idly felt wrong. Recuperating was the only thing we really could do, though, no matter how much I wanted to jump right into payback.

  I just hoped that we’d be able to figure things out before the kings made their next move, whatever that may be.

  Carter

  Georgia fiddled with just about anything she could—her hair, her fingernails, chewing at her lip. Knowing her, I expected her to insist on striking back at the demons right away, always the first one to suggest action. But now, I could tell she was holding back. She was practically buzzing with energy, but she said nothing. She had to know as well as the rest of us did that we needed time to regather ourselves before coming up with a plan. Our next move needed to be more careful than every move we’d taken previously. Though I obviously didn’t blame Georgia, we couldn’t afford any more mistakes without risking more of the Venandi—more of our friends. We had to stop and think, and considering everything that just happened, no one was in the right headspace to be making those decisions at the moment.

  I looked to Georgia, who seemed to be mulling over my plan. Her violet eyes were looking right at me beneath eyebrows that were drawn together in concentration.

  “Alright,” she said. “We should find somewhere to go.”

  I half expected more of a fight from you, Georgia. Where’s the dangerous plan to jump right back into action? Where’s that fire?

  “We can find a hotel on the edge of the city. We should stay away from here for now,” I said.

  “Do we even have any money for that?” Georgia asked. “Getting rooms for all of us will be expensive.”

  “Don’t worry about money. I still have access.” My family has an account that has been paying the Venandi’s expenses for years. Turns out there are some perks to being descended from nobility.

  “I’m surprised your family allows that.” Georgia raised an eyebrow curiously.

  “I won’t get into digits, but I promise there’s enough in there that no one has ever noticed, and they never will. You don’t think my mother balances the checkbook, do you?”

  Georgia offered a small laugh. “Alright, Mr. Moneybags. Where to, then?”

  “Hmm, Motel 6? Super 8, maybe?” I joked. It was nice to get in a little humor while everything was crumbling around us, feeling normal again if only for a few moments while smiles cracked on everyone’s worn faces. “Just kidding, of course. I can at least set us up in a La Quinta.”

  Georgia was so beautiful when she smiled that for a minute I’d nearly forgotten everything else besides her. It was nice to see her relax, despite the terrible tragedy we’d all just been through, though the coming days were going to be exceptionally tough for all of us.

  “I didn’t know we were worthy of such luxury,” she said with a weary chuckle.

  I searched for my car, which had luckily been spared from the destruction, though not without a good bit of effort to dig it out from beneath the rubble that had found its way on top. Before the mood could fall back into despair, I nodded toward Jacob’s car which still sat with the keys in the ignition, still running—just as Jacob had left it.

  “Come on, I know a place on the North Side that’s pretty lowkey. We can fly under the radar there until we figure out our action plan,” I suggested.

  We all made our way over to the car and loaded our few remaining possessions we had with us into the trunk, the idle rumble of the engine sending a pang of guilt through my chest, an eerie feeling coming over me as I slid into the driver’s seat. I wasn’t supposed to be sitting there. It was supposed to be Jacob. But Jacob was gone.

  As I started down the road toward the hotel, my chest grew even tighter. I had already let down Kingston in the cemetery when I wasn’t able to save him, and now I’d let his son die. Of course Jacob hadn't been strong enough to make it over that gap, not with his injury. Why hadn't I thought to grab him, to use whatever strength I had in me to get us both over? Maybe it would've been enough to get us across, maybe not, but one thing was for sure: if it had been Kingston in my place, he'd have grabbed Jacob and Georgia both and worried about the consequences later. If I'd been half the man Kingston was, maybe Jacob would be standing here with us right now.

  My knuckles were white around the steering wheel as I snuck a peak at Georgia in the passenger seat. She looked so tired. I knew she was strong and was putting on her bravest face, but the loss of another friend had to be weighing on her. Hell, it was weighing on me, and I wasn’t even friends with the guy. No matter how much I hated it, she and Jacob had been somewhat close, and I couldn’t help but feel like I was letting her down too. First I couldn’t save her mother, then Kingston, and now Jacob. I was honestly surprised she didn’t seem angrier with me. Honestly, if our roles were reversed, I’d have blamed me completely.

  I tried hard to focus on driving, pushing away all the thoughts of Jacob and Georgia and Kingston which seemed hellbent on tearing me apart and making me miserable. It wasn’t until Georgia reached over and rested her hand atop my shoulder that I started to be able to ignore the intrusive thoughts that told me that all of this was my fault. Her thumb rubbed mindless, reassuring circles over my shirt. I reached up with one hand and laced our fingers together, bringing our arms down to rest on the center console. I didn’t always like to be so touchy in front of the others, but it seemed like it didn’t particularly matter right now. The comfort was welcomed, and I was sure they wouldn’t mind.

  Maybe she doesn’t hold this whole thing against me. Not yet, anyway.

  The drive was short enough, the back roads keeping me out of too much city traffic. I wasn’t sure that I’d be able to survive the stop and go traffic of the Chicago expressways, not with the amount of adrenaline that was still bursting through my system. There wasn’t much smalltalk when we arrived—once we booked our rooms, everyone went to their respective spaces to wind down and process everything accordingly, agreeing to meet up in the morning over breakfast.

  The hotel was nice enough—nothing spectacular, but certainly much nicer than the hotels I’d jokingly suggested earlier. When Georgia and I found our room, I was pleased with the arrangement. The bed was large and plush with plenty of room for both of us to spread out as much as we’d like, and the bathroom had a large tub that would likely see each of us soaking in it at some point in the evening.

  Georgia stepped over to the bed, sitting gingerly down atop the comforter before pulling her legs up so she could lean back against the lavish decorative pillows that lay across the top of the bed. I sat next to her, and she quickly leaned over to rest her head on my shoulder. We were stained with sweat and dirt and blood, but it didn’t seem to matter. We were both so tired that the mess was secondary to resting. She was quiet, but I could feel teardrops against my shirt, her muffled sniffling telling me all I needed to know. I reached around her, wrapping my arm over her shoulders and pulling her close to settle into my chest, feeling her quiet sniffles turn into more aggressive sobs. It killed me to see her this way, and I squeezed her as tightly as I could without hurting her, hoping to give her even the smallest amount of comfort.

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nbsp; “It’s alright, Georgia…” I said.

  “It’s my fault.” She sounded so certain.

  “No.” I said quickly. “No, it’s not. Don’t say that. Eli was right, you couldn’t have known. If anything, it’s my fault. I should have held onto him tighter before we were all separated by the shaking.”

  Georgia hiccuped, her weeping slowly relaxing into a steady stream of tears rolling down her cheeks. “Neither of us could have done anything differently.”

  “We couldn’t have.”

  “It doesn’t feel any better, though,” she mumbled.

  “I know it doesn’t. It won’t for a while,” I answered.

  “It’s just…”

  I waited for her to finish her sentence, but she trailed off and never picked it back up again. I couldn’t see her face, but I could tell that her tears were beginning to subside and she was deep in thought.

  “What?” I prodded gently.

  “Nothing, nevermind,” she said quickly. “Don’t worry about it.”

  “You said you’d tell me if something was wrong, remember?”

  “I know. Nothing’s wrong. I’m just still thinking.”

  “About?”

  “It’s nothing, I promise. If it becomes something, I’ll let you know.”

  I rested my head back against the headboard, burning with curiosity. But I had to trust that Georgia would tell me when she was ready, and I decided not to press her, contenting myself with lightly squeezing her arm to pull her into me more tightly. I wished that I could tell her that we’d figure all of this out, that there was an easy plan to be made, and we’d come out on top soon despite our struggles and our losses, but the more I wracked my brain, the more exhausted I became. As the adrenaline began to wear off, I finally felt the toll the fight had taken on me, my limbs aching and weak. I could feel myself sinking into the bed, the weight of it all heavy on my body.

  I could feel Georgia relaxing too, and for a few minutes, I believed that maybe everything could be okay.