Page 18 of Between Bloode and Death (Between the Shadows #5)

CHAPTER

SEVENTEEN

As Khent studied the figure holding a staff, perhaps the same one stolen from the bazaar, he realized something odd about him.

Demons didn’t command the dead. They tortured and had fun with live prey. They didn’t pilot dead bodies. So why did the scent of necromancer linger?

And not his necromancer, but a foreign one.

A glance upward showed Valentine securely in the branches of a tree, protected by dead dryads. Her small flex of power warned him to beware. Valentine might look fragile, but she commanded fierce predators in addition to woodland fae, who could be difficult to control, alive or dead.

But he’d take care of his pretty human later. Right now, he had a demon to conquer. Perhaps a demon hiding a necromancer inside?

Hmm. Did that mean the demon was dead? Could necromancers direct demons? Or was there a simpler answer?

“Well, demon?” Khent asked. “Who is it that possesses the body of this creature? Because you are not some lowly four-eyes.”

He’d recognized the demon right off. Four-eyes—and no, demons didn’t have a lot of creativity in their naming systems—could be considered killing machines against humans and weaker magir.

The toxins in their claws paralyzed, and they could sometimes mesmerize if one looked too long into their many eyes.

But against a reaper? Not even half a challenge. Yet, the magical signature riding it didn’t match the typical demon.

It laughed. “Smart. But then, of course you would be, Khent of the Night Bloode. We know of your skills.”

We? “Then you know you’re not welcome here. And that I can’t let you leave.”

“Of course not.” The demon seemed giddy, its enormous smile exposing sharp teeth stained with blood. “You would rather fight.”

Khent nodded.

The demon didn’t waste time. It flew at him, waving the staff that did nothing to Khent but cause the surrounding vegetation to wilt. A poor imitation of the actual Staff of Blight, which would have obliterated all of them.

Well, except for Khent. Resistant to most poisons, he would weaken but wouldn’t completely falter. Valentine and Onvyr would likely die, though. And that wouldn’t please him, not until Khent had unraveled the mysteries of his secretive human.

He met the enemy blow for blow, not going all out, trying to see what the demon had to offer. Sadly, it wasn’t much. “Your name, creature?” Khent asked it again.

“This is clearly not working.” The four-eyes stopped moving, broke the staff in half, and used one of the jagged pieces to pierce one of its own eyes.

“Gross,” Val murmured.

“Totally,” Onvyr answered from above.

Curious as to what the demon wanted, Khent waited.

“Can you feel this, necromancer?” the demon asked, glancing up at the tree. “Does this give you that tingling sensation? Because Vladimir claims he can control us.”

“Us? So you’re a demon as well then?” Khent asked.

The demon ignored him. “Answer me, human.”

“I sense everything,” she said, her soft voice and lilting laughter a little creepy.

Impressed, Khent advanced on the demon, aware its splintered attention made it even easier to attack. Unless that was its plan, to draw him in.

He pretended to lunge at it, pleased when it blew out a breath of noxious fumes mixed with demon blood.

Easily avoiding it, Khent used his speed to circle the demon while Valentine continued to taunt it.

“The presence inside you is too vast for a hack like Vladimir to touch. He can’t know what I know. Using the power of the stone I—”

“The stone. Where it is? I need it.”

“Fuck off.” She snorted. “It’s mine.”

Khent frowned, not appreciating the demon’s attention on Valentine. He also didn’t like being ignored. “No, the stone is mine. I control it; I control her. Everything she has belongs to me.”

That had the demon swinging his head back around to regard Khent. “Oh?”

“Your name, creature? I won’t ask again.”

“Then don’t.” A subtle ticking grew louder. Like that of a bomb…

Oh shit.

Khent raced up the tree, grabbed Valentine and Onvyr over his shoulders, and raced away from the demon.

Once out of lethal range, he tossed Onvyr to his feet and snarled, “Run.”

They made it another few seconds before a blast set fire to the top of the mountain. Flames unfurled toward them, in neon blues and greens.

“Poison,” Onvyr rasped and coughed, the fumes catching them too quickly.

“Ignore it. Move,” Khent ordered and ran faster. Valentine fell limply over his shoulder, and he didn’t like the feeling of worry gnawing at him.

Vampires didn’t know fear or anxiety. At least, Khent never had.

And never would, he told himself, running like the wind until he reached the base of the mountain.

He fetched a gallon of water from the trunk of the car, a handy antidote to many spells when properly utilized, and threw it over Valentine and Onvyr, who’d joined him.

“Hey.” Onvyr would have said more but fell into a coughing fit.

Valentine didn’t move.

“Not yet, human. Your life belongs to me,” Khent growled and chanted.

Cleansing the poison of the four-eyes’ death from his companions, Khent stopped only when Onvyr sighed his thanks.

“Man, that sucked.” The dark elf stared down at Valentine. “Is she okay?” He leaned down to place his ear on her chest. “Her heart rate is steady. Breathing is good too.”

“I know.” Khent could hear it, his senses attuned to the slight female. “Come. We need to head back.”

“What about the mountain?”

Khent glanced up at the bright fire raging over the summit. “Mormo probably won’t like that.”

“Yeah, and there are a ton of dead bodies still up there. Who knows what that demon’s poison did to them? Could it reanimate those magir, do you think? And who were they? Why did that thing kill them in the first place?”

“My guess would be for fun.” Khent had enjoyed the slight skirmish, though he hadn’t found it very stimulating. Or enlightening. “He never told me his name.”

“You sure it’s a he? I’m finding that female species tend to be more aggressive.” Onvyr frowned.

“Not getting along with Bella anymore?”

Hecate liked to use a young woman’s human form when in the house, calling herself Bella. It had taken them a while to realize the human was in fact their patron goddess. It still bothered him that he’d been fooled, but then, so had the rest of his kin.

He gave himself a pass.

“She’s hard to understand.” Onvyr stared up at the mountaintop. “We should call Macy for this.”

Khent sighed. “Yes. Better for MEC to contain this and clean it up, I suppose.” He called their Bloode Witch. After a brief summary, he let Macy know he’d be returning to the house with Onvyr and Valentine.

“Good,” she said. “I need to talk to your necromancer. MEC has some concerns about her.”

Bristling in Valentine’s defense and not sure why, Khent muttered, “Have them talk to me if they have problems. We’re leaving now.” He hung up on her protests then lifted Valentine and placed her gently in the back seat of the vehicle.

She really was small, curled up and tucked in the back.

“I guess I’m sitting next to you.” Onvyr beamed. “What do you think the four-eyes was? He didn’t smell like a full demon. Well, he did. But he smelled more.”

“More what?”

Onvyr frowned. “I don’t know. But the squirrel I was talking to before we left told me the demon had been up there before. Hunting all alone. But not like tonight. The dryads said the same thing. And what was that staff? Talk about gross.”

Dryads… Damn. The precious dead fae had likely burned up in the fire. Valentine wouldn’t like that.

She’d probably be pretty upset about it when she woke.

Khent smiled to himself. He’d make sure to be the one to tell her how much she’d lost, and how fortunate she was that he’d saved her life. Again.

On the ride home, he considered the myriad ways she could repay him.