Dark Cravings (9 page)

Eli’s gun clicked. “Get down.”

I dropped to a knee. Gunfire exploded.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
The
shots rang out like big booming cracks of thunder. I half expected flashes of
lightning to graze across the night sky.

“Did you get him?” I asked and peeked over my shoulder.
Nothing but rain.

“No.”

“You’re weak and I tire of this game.” The demon whispered
the words into my ear.

I spun right into the claws. Heat. Pain. The sound of skin
tearing. I gritted through the agony that spread from the claw marks forming a
gash from my shoulder blade to my lower back. The wounds burned and throbbed.
The pain had less to do with the cuts and more to do with the poison as it
began to move through my system. The problem with demons was that you never
knew what nasty surprise ran through their veins. Once they drew blood, it
could be disastrous.

My eyes widened, pupils taking in everything at once. I
caught the flash of movement in front of me. I threw my body into a rolling
duck, acting on the screaming impulse to move. The demon reformed and aimed its
clawed fist at my head.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

The rain shifted and blew another blinding gust of wind and
water in my face. I fell to the saturated ground and slid through the mud. I
jumped back to my feet with a grunt of annoyance. The sandman puffed away and
then reappeared directly in front of Eli.

The demon laughed before cracking a meaty fist into the side
of Eli’s head, sending him sprawling to the ground. Too late for me to react,
the creature reappeared and shoved his claws into my shoulder.

My body reeled when nails dug and ripped through flesh and
muscle, just narrowly missing the bone. The pain intensified as the demon
reared back, pulling bloody claws through the ragged tears in my skin. Tremors
of shock moved up my rib cage, constricting my throat and watering my eyes. I
fell back.

I recovered before I hit the ground. In a well-practiced
move, I reached into my boot to pull out a Silverstone blade. I’d already lost
both of my Brimstone weapons. I held the familiar weight in my hand for a
moment before it slipped from my uncurled fingers to drop, useless, to the
ground. The poison in my shoulder was numbing my entire arm.

I glanced at Eli, who I could barely make out through the
rain. He wasn’t getting up. Micah would never forgive me if I got his brother
killed. Never.

Flexing my hand sent a warm gush of blood from my wound,
down the sleeve of my jacket and out the cuff. I smelled the infectious sludge
of venom dripping to the ground. I blinked before moving my hand over the
gaping holes in the front of my shirt. I wasn’t exactly sure how much poison my
body could handle before it was too much. Determined, I forced my eyes wide and
ignored the spiking pain.

My fingers were sticky and the tips were dipped in crimson
when I brought them in front of my doubled vision. Rain washed the blood away.

Clarity cut through the pain.

My senses flared and I picked up on a crackling of energy to
my left. I dropped a knee to the cold, wet ground in the same instant the demon
formed beside me. I used the tips of my fingers to find the hilt of the blade I’d
dropped.

“I. Am. Not. Weak,” I hissed.

I closed my hand around my weapon and struck up, hitting
solid flesh. The demon emitted a high-pitched squeal. The sharp tip of my knife
slid through the beast’s abdomen and split its body in half. Brimstone worked
best on otherworldly creatures, but in a pinch Silverstone could do the job. I saw
the tar-filled depths of the demon, shock registering in its eyes. The thing’s
form was mummified, wrapped in strands of beige fabric, tinged yellow with age
and decay. Slowly the strands unraveled, falling away one by one. The monster
melted into a cloud of dusty debris.

I fell back, into the mud. The sky was gray above me, full
of morphing clouds that rained down on my cheeks. The cool water was a relief
against my heated skin. I watched the drops fall.

Eli’s battered face filled my vision as if he were leaning
over me. Water dripped from the point of his nose and splattered my cheek. He
pressed his fingers to the dripping wound along his forehead. “You gonna make
it?”

I didn’t know. Injured and lying in the middle of the
cemetery during the heart of the night was the worst place we could be. Pushing
the pain aside, I rolled onto my side. The blood had stopped seeping from the
wounds on my back and stomach. As the cuts healed, my skin grew tight and
itchy. My shoulder still oozed, though. We were fawns amongst a pack of hungry
lions.
Lions.

Eli vanished. The clouds now in my sight pulsed, started to
blur together. Maybe the poison was getting to me, or perhaps it was the blood
loss. Maybe my prolonged separation from Micah had finally taken its toll. I
blinked at the image of frolicking yellow cats leaping over rainbows. The rain
faded away and the soft melody of a woman singing
Somewhere Over the Rainbow
filled my ears.

The shrill ringing of a phone snapped me out of my
hallucination. Lazily, I patted around my pocket with my good arm before I
fished out my phone.

“What’s up?” I whispered, the pain making it hard to talk.

“Is that any way to answer the phone?” Roy chastised.

“I’m doing great. Thank you, dearest uncle, for asking. How
are you on this fine evening?”

As usual, Roy ignored my sarcasm and cut right to the point.
“How quickly can you and Eli get to Micah’s apartment?”

I stared up at the sky for a moment, tried to process what he
was asking. Had I not just spent the past six days going through hell in an
effort to stay
away
from Micah? Now he wanted me at his apartment. Clouds
streamed across the sky. The longer I stared at them lost in thought, the more
they began to resemble lions. My eyes drifted shut just as the bright, colorful
rainbow arched.

Someday I’ll wish upon a star, and wake up where the
clouds are far behind me. Where troubles melt like lemon drops, away above the
chimney tops, that’s where you’ll find me. Somewhere over the rainbow…

“Ella? Are you there?” Roy’s voice sounded far, far away.

“What?” I asked, blinking my eyes open.

If only I could sleep for just a few minutes.

“How quickly can you get here? Micah’s condition is
deteriorating at an alarming speed. I’m afraid if we wait much longer it will
be too late…”

Roy said something else, but I was having a hard time
following the conversation.

“Condition? What’s wrong with him? I don’t understand—”

He cut me off. “Micah said sometimes you can phaze to him.
Can you do that, now?”

I thought about it for a moment, tried to find the spot
inside my head. Nothing. Jesus, I wasn’t even sure of my own name.

“Yeah, not gonna happen. What’s going on?”

The concern in Roy’s voice deepened. “You sound really
strange, are you injured? Where’s Eli?”

Was I injured? Hadn’t someone just asked me something
similar to that? Right. Eli. I was seeing lions jumping over rainbows and
hearing songs in my head. I didn’t think I was okay.

“I’ve got a flesh wound or two. Nothing a few bandages won’t
fix. Roy, are you sure Micah and I should be around each other? You said—”

“I know what I said,” he snapped before drawing in a deep
breath. “I apologize. Hannah found something. I know what’s happening between
you two and I need you here now.”

“We’ll leave now.” I struggled to pull Eli into focus. He
stood a few feet away with a concerned frown pulling at his full lips. “How
long will it take to get to your brother’s?”

His eyes widened. “Uh, fifteen minutes…but we can’t go
there.”

I shook my cell at him. “Roy’s orders.”

He crossed the distance between us in two large strides and
snatched the phone from my hand. The jerk didn’t trust me.

“Eli here,” he said into the phone. There was a pause and I
tried really hard to hear what Roy was saying. The drilling rain made it
impossible. “Are you sure?” Pause. “Okay. We’ll be there soon.” Eli looked down
at me where I still lay in the mud. “She got tagged by an Osiris demon, they’ve
got hallucinogens in their venom.” Pause. “I’ll get her there safe.”

He hung up and once more held out his hand to me. He pulled
me up and I struggled to stand on my own two feet. The world spun around me.

“How’s the head?” I asked and eyed the blood leaking down
the side of his face. He smelled sweet and kind of musky. The tips of my
elongated fangs tingled.

“Barely hurts.”

“You know,” I said, words slurred, “the stubble, black eye,
fat lip and bleeding forehead—you’re looking pretty badass these days. I didn’t
even know you could grow facial hair. How old are you anyway?”

He chuckled and steered me away from the tall cross
gravestone I almost walked into. “I’m twenty-three. Not only can I grow a
beard, I have chest hair too. As for the shiner, Micah hasn’t been in the best
of moods over the last week.”

I stopped and nearly fell on my face. “He did that to your
face?”

“Not on purpose. I had to restrain him to keep him from
going to you.” Eli shook his head. “He’s in bad shape, Ella. He won’t eat or
sleep and it’s getting worse. I only left because Roy made me. Whatever
happened between you two is tearing him up inside. I’ve tried to settle him,
but…” He pointed to his battered face.

I leaned into him and rested my head somewhere near his
shoulder. I wasn’t quite tall enough to reach that far. “You’re a good brother,
Eli.”

I managed the rest of the trip to the car without falling.
When we got to my dad’s old rusted pickup truck, which I saw three of, Eli
helped me into the passenger seat. I handed him my keys without protest and
closed my eyes. Roaring lions danced behind the lids.

Wait. Maybe the noise was the engine coming to life.

“Can I ask you a question about Hannah?” Eli voice popped
the bubble that was engulfing me.

I struggled to open my eyes. “Sure.”

“Why isn’t she at Yale or Princeton? She’s crazy smart but
pretends like she isn’t. She called me a couple of weeks ago to pick her up
from a frat party after she’d had too much to drink. Her friends were doped up
within an inch of their lives. It’s like she’s a totally different person
around them. Don’t even get me started on the jock she had hanging all over her
like a giant piece of arm candy. She smiled and nodded at the right times, but
her eyes, she hated every second of it. Why does she do it? And what’s up with
the blood thing? When we brought you home last week, she took one look and hit
the floor. I barely caught her.”

I flopped my head to the side and studied his profile through
a kaleidoscope of colors. “You said ‘a’ question.”

He tilted his lips up in a half-smile and readjusted his
hands on the crumbling steering wheel. “Sorry.”

“Hannah has a photographic memory. What she sees she
remembers. Forever. You probably know our parents were murdered, right?”

Eli nodded.

“She was four when she found our mother’s bloody and beaten
body laid out on our porch swing. Ten when she stumbled upon my father in a
similar condition. Hannah wants boring and normal. She’ll do just about anything
to get it, even if it includes becoming someone she isn’t.”

His jaw clenched. “That’s fucked up.”

I closed my eyes and let the world melt away as I muttered,
“Life’s fucked up.”

Shifting from foot to foot, I eyed Micah’s apartment
building like it was an infectious disease. I imagined gremlins disguised as
viruses crawling across the reddish-brown brick with sharp teeth and claws.
Those little critters were waiting for me to get close enough so they could
pounce.

Obviously, I’d lost too much blood on the fifteen-minute
drive over.

I tilted my head from side to side and tried to pinpoint the
degree of slant that left the brownstone slightly askew. The angle was the
least of the structural problems. The missing chunk of roof was what really
caught my eye. The crumbling, charred remains exposed the blackened shell of
the sixth floor.

I shook my head and gazed at the line of windows facing the
graffiti-covered building behind me. The windowpanes not covered by wooden
planks were lined with a combination of razor wire and steel bars. The ghetto
motif blended in well with the two neighboring buildings decorated in crime
scene tape.

Surely this was wrong. Micah couldn’t possibly live here. “Are
you sure this is the right place? We didn’t make some pit stop for drugs or
something? I’ll keep your secret, I swear.”

Eli let out a low chuckle. “Wait until you see the inside.”

I was having a hard time picturing Micah, with his perfect
hair, his perfect leather jacket and his perfectly well-worn jeans, walking
through the double doors in front of me, carrying grocery bags or dry cleaning.

I looked up one side of the street, then the other. Who
would have guessed there would be this much activity at three o’clock in the
morning? A woman was on the street corner, dressed in torn, dirt-smudged rags.
A couple stood toe-to-toe, screaming at each other. Something about cheating
bastards and dried-up whores. Not my business. From the shadowed alleys on
either side, gleaming eyes stared back at me. The dark cluster of figures drew
closer to the mouth of the alley.

Cackling laughter.

Claws on asphalt.

“Little hunter, little hunter, have you come out to play?”
The whispered words echoed off the walls of the alley and slithered down my
spine. “You smell of blood and power. Please, come and play.” More laughter.

A shiver ran through me and pulled at my skin.

Demons.

The District was popular with demon immigrants who’d managed
to escape whichever hellish overlord they lived under. The rent was cheap, the
buildings were mostly abandoned and the cops didn’t give a fuck. Hell, a few of
them were demons themselves. Humans had no idea just how closely their lives
were intertwined with the demons and the vampires. Non-sensitives who came in
contact with a creature from the underworld couldn’t see past the human veneer
they used to cloak themselves. And the sensitives? They were institutionalized.
As a Shadow Hunter, it was my job to keep the demons in line and kill the ones
who crossed it. These days, though, the line was blurry.

Thumping bass vibrated the ground and I looked away from my
admirers to watch a gleaming black Audi pull out from around the corner. The
car was so out of place in this dump I couldn’t help but stare. The closer the
vehicle got, the more agitated the darkness inside me became.

Danger. Threat. Eliminate.

My fangs slid free.

Someone—or something—immensely powerful was behind the
pitch-black windows. With a hiss, the demons in the alleys scuttled back and
vanished between the buildings.

“You all right?” Eli asked.

I shook my head to clear out the lingering creepy-crawlies
and turned to the door Eli held open for me. I walked inside.

Good. Lord.

I staggered back a step. My eyes watered. The smell was
overpowering. What in the hell had died in here?

I spotted the rickety wooden elevator that had a sign posted
over it,
ENTER AT YOUR OWN RISK
, and looked for the broken door labeled
Stairwell
.
Well, I assumed that was what it said. Bright pink graffiti was sprayed over
most of the letters. The door now read,
I love cunt
.

“Charming.”

I gazed at the yellow, water-stained ceiling and tried to
gauge the draw inside me. I could sense Micah. My heart started to beat just a
little bit faster. That, unfortunately, made the blood leak out of my shoulder
quicker.

Eli led us to a set of stairs. Although creaky and
water-warped, they were sturdy enough and held our combined weight. The
overwhelming fumes of urine, vomit and filth singed the hairs in my nose. Every
step was agony. To make matters worse, I had to pause at every landing to
restrain the tug of Micah’s energy. The closer we got, the more nervous I
became. When we finally got to the fourth floor, the pull of him, the scent of
him, was so strong I expected Micah to be leaning against the ripped wallpaper.
He wasn’t.

As we went down the long, dark hallway I was reminded of the
tunnel in my head. The one I vowed not to dive into anymore. Each step echoed
along the scuffed and stained floor. The only upside to this place was that the
trail of blood I left in my wake blended right in. We passed four doors before reaching
our destination. My heart beat in a frenzied rhythm. My vision doubled. That
might have had more to do with the blood loss than the overwhelming energy on
the other side of Micah’s door.

The overhead lights flickered to life and illuminated the
rotting walls. God, this place was disgusting.

Surely Micah had enough money for something better than
this. Shadow Hunters weren’t paid a lot, but we were paid. In all the months I
spent wondering about Micah’s life outside of mine, I pictured him in some
swanky bachelor pad with a leather sofa and black satin sheets. I saw mood
lights, mini bars and fireplaces.

I eyed the peeling green paint on Micah’s front door and
braced myself.

When I raised my fist to knock on the door, a stab of pain
lanced through my shoulder. Damn it all to hell. Maybe it was the poison, but I
wasn’t healing the way I should be. Blood dripped from my shoulder and down my
arm.

Eli gave me a funny look I didn’t know how to interpret.
“You don’t have to knock.”

I looked at my ripped shirt and mud-covered pants. What a
mess. Why did I care anyway?

Fuck it.

He turned the knob and pushed open the door. I held my
breath and tried to prepare myself for the blast of heat I felt whenever I was
around Micah. It never came. I closed my eyes and waited for the rush of
consuming lust that had driven us together at the hospital.

Nothing.

I opened my eyes and walked into the tiny studio apartment
behind Eli. The hair on my arms rose. Either it was the sight of Micah on the
bed, lifeless, pale, with a blue tinge coloring his lips, or it was the tall,
exotic woman leaning over him that sent my senses into a tailspin. Magic danced
in the air and eclipsed everything else.

Power poured off her in such a potent rush I had to take a
step back. The woman lifted her gaze to me and I stumbled back another step.
Her eyes were large, alien and black with magic. Blood magic. While Roy pulled
from the mystical abilities he’d inherited from his Gypsy mother, this woman
radiated a combination of blood sacrifice and earth power.

Death lingered in the air. She looked as if she enjoyed
killing things soft, furry and innocent. My imagination leapt straight to
decapitated kittens and bunnies.

“It’s okay, Ella,” Roy said. My uncle’s voice startled me. I’d
been so focused on the witch I hadn’t seen him on the other side of Micah’s
bed.

“This is Gem,” he continued. “She isn’t here to hurt anyone.
She came here as a favor to me, to see if she could be of any help in our
current situation.”

I looked from Roy back to Gem. The inky circles of her
pupils shrunk and left behind the most stunning shade of purple I’d ever seen.
The color matched the beads and jewels woven into her thick, golden dreadlocks.

Still suspicious, I glanced at Micah. Despite Roy announcing
my presence, Micah didn’t look in my direction or acknowledge me. He had other
things on his mind.

“Tell Hannah to check the translations again. I’m not a
demon,” Micah said through chattering teeth.

His glassy eyes moved from Roy to Gem, then back to Roy. The
look on his face was unfriendly. I knew, because when he finally turned his
head to look at me, the same hostile gleam flashed in his eyes.

Coming here had been a bad idea.

Did he hate me? Blame me for whatever was going on with him?

Micah shivered and I watched tiny spasms twitch the exposed
muscles of his chest and arms. I’m not sure what kind of look I gave, but Micah
didn’t interpret it correctly.

“I’m not going to jump you, if that’s why you’re inching to
the door.” The hot anger of his gaze never released me.

In the few seconds I stood there, speechless, Micah came
back from the dead. His skin lost its ghostly pallor and some of the shadows
under his eyes faded. It was almost as if the longer he looked at me, the more
strength returned to him.

“I wasn’t worried about it.” I shrugged. Inside, my stomach
felt like Jell-O. Shaky. Unstable. After a moment, I added, “You don’t look
like you could stand, much less do anything else.”

Would conversation from now on be this awkward between us?
The last time I’d seen Micah, nearly a week ago, we’d gone at it in a hospital
bathroom like the world was ending.

The fire in Micah’s eyes dimmed, just a little.

Hope sprang, then sank.

“You think you look much better? At least I’m not covered in
mud, bleeding all over the floor and about to pass out,” he said with a sneer.

I was not about to pass out.

“I see he’s feeling better,” Eli muttered.

I followed the sound of Eli’s voice and found him sitting in
a chair next to the bed. I hadn’t even see him sit.

Roy glared at Eli.

“Why didn’t you tell me she was this injured?” He strode the
few feet from the bed to where I stood.

He pressed his hand against my forehead. Either Roy had been
fondling ice cubes, or my skin was on fire. I leaned into the icy relief.

“Don’t blame him,” I murmured. “Where’s Hannah?”

“Out with her friends. Now sit before you collapse,” he
ordered.

Shaking my head, I let the wall support my weight. “I’m
fine, really.”

“Stubborn woman.” Micah huffed under his breath.

Gem cleared her throat and I looked up in time to watch her
cross her arms under her chest. “Roy, perhaps now is a good time to explain
what is going on.”

Nodding, Roy pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his
nose. “Hannah translated an ancient text regarding demon mating rituals. The
marks both you and Micah came home with point to a binding ceremony. A demon
ceremony.”

Before I could stop it, the image of the grotesque
two-headed penis popped into my mind.

“Micah isn’t a demon,” Eli said.

“That’s what I keep trying to tell them.” Micah shook his
head. “She translated wrong. Tell her to check it again.”

“Hannah is never wrong, not when it comes to translation.
The meanings might be open to interpretation, but she gets the gist of it,” Roy
said.

Micah clenched his hands into fists. The alluring muscle in
his jaw twitched under a thick dusting of facial hair. “Yeah, well, the gist
says I’m a demon.”

Was I hearing things, or was the blood poisoning getting to
me? Who thought Micah was a demon? What exactly was Roy saying? Maybe I did
need to sit down.

When the prophecy texts hadn’t netted any useful
information, Roy had instructed Hannah to memorize my tattoo this morning and
scour through any and all books we had about magical bonds. By that point, I
had removed myself from research duty and worked off some of my aggression via
a punching bag. Roy had taken pity on me and authorized a supervised hunt.

Micah moved on the bed and the dizziness inside me faded. I
traced each impressive flex of muscle—abs, chest, shoulders and biceps. I
remembered my mouth dragging over each spot.

Mine.
I shook the memory of Micah’s words away.

“My father is the head of the Shadow Agency. He detests
demons.” Micah glanced at me. “And vampires, of all sorts. I’m not demon spawn.
I would’ve been killed at birth. The succubus bitch did something to Ella and
me. I don’t care what you, Hannah or the witch say. You’re all wrong.” The more
defensive Micah got, the more panicked he sounded.

The witch in question narrowed her eyes and glared at him.
The room heated. When she spoke, she spit the words at him. “I’m not wrong. Roy
called me here for a reason. I don’t care who you think your father is. You’re
demon born. Succubi do not alter genetics and they certainly do not force two
people into a mating bond.

“Only a demon male can initiate the ceremony. I believe
magical bonds were placed on your demon spirit at some point, most likely when
you were born. Think of it as a forced hibernation. You got the benefit of the
demon’s strength, healing and instinct. No other demonic traits would have been
visible. I’ve never seen any spell like it. I believe the succubus, or so you
say, woke your demon with a strong dose of lust and broke the spell. As time
progresses, you’ll become more at one with the demon.”

She looked at me, then back at Micah. “I suspect your inner
demon was already beginning to wake when you met your mate, before you even encountered
the succubus. She just helped the process along. The blood rune I gave you will
help you merge peacefully with your demon.”

“This is ridiculous.” Micah threw up his hands. “Roy, do you
actually believe this crap? You know my father, this just isn’t possible.”

Roy opened his mouth, but Gem spoke first.

“Ridiculous?” The gleam in her eye was the only warning. In
one quick slash she drew a wickedly sharp nail across Micah’s chest. Blood
welled to the surface and dripped down his stomach. The rich, spicy scent
filled the air.