Demons Forever (Peachville High Demons #6) (14 page)

I shuddered.

"That's what she did to Gregory, in the end," the witch said, crawling closer to where I stood. "He loved his king so much, he refused to give up what he knew. Priestess Winter has magic at her disposal that would turn your insides. By the time she was done with him, his mind was jelly and his secrets were hers."

She cocked her head to the side and narrowed her eyes at me.

"What's happened Princess?" she asked. "You wouldn't be down here wearing that crown and that blood if something terrible hadn't happened."

My hands began to tremble. I took a step back and clutched my skirt in my fists. "Don't you already know? My sister has been kidnapped," I said. "Where did she take her? Do you know what she plans to do with her?"

The witch moved with cat-like grace as she approached the limits of her cell. "I never knew you had a sister," she said. "This was not one of dear Gregory's precious secrets, but I'm glad to hear my priestess has discovered it. Maybe now you will understand some of what I felt when you took my sister from me."

"Tell me where Priestess Winter would have taken her," I demanded.

"She plans to make her a bird, perhaps? Trapped in a cage with no song to sing."

She laughed at her own humor, but I didn't understand. A bird? What was she talking about?

"Give me a real answer," I said. I tried to sound confident, but fear caused my voice to falter. "Where is she?"

The witch made a popping sound with her tongue. "Maybe she's with my sister," she said. "In heaven."

"No." I shook my head, refusing to believe it. "If she wanted her dead, she would have just killed her. Why take her prisoner unless she has some other use for her?"

"Bait, perhaps?" She scratched behind her ear. "Fishing for a demon princess. When I didn't come home and lay you on her doorstep, she must have moved on to plan B."

I placed a hand on my stomach, ill at the thought. "She sent you to capture me," I said, sorting through my thoughts. "And when you didn't come back, she knew you'd either been killed or taken captive. So she took my sister, knowing I'd come after her."

The witch raised an eyebrow at me. "It isn't that hard to figure out, is it?"

"If I give myself up, would she release my sister? Would she let her live?" I asked, stepping forward again, hands on the bars.

She laughed, low and deep. "You act as if Priestess Winter has a beating heart," she said. Her emerald eyes met mine. "You took something precious to her, so she repaid the favor. What else did you expect? Trust me, Priestess Winter has a cold stone where her heart should be. Or didn't you know? She didn't even allow me a day to mourn my sister's death before she sent me back after you."

I looked away. Those eyes sent chills through me.

Priestess Winter was never going to let my sister go. Just like she was never going to let me go.

"I'm going after her," I said, my mind made up. "You might as well tell me where she is. If it's really a trap, you won't mind sending me in the right direction."

The witch growled and slinked back toward her straw mat. She curled up the way I'd found her. "She's at Winterhaven," she said. "I'm sure they'll be expecting you."

I released the cold bars and stepped away.

Winterhaven. The Winter's home in Washington D.C. In order to save my sister, I would have to go right to the source. I would have to face an impossible enemy.

I walked away from the tiger witch's cell with a heavy heart.

Jackson and I had planned to make our choice after the dance, but now the choice had been made for us. It was time to go home.

She'll Never Stop

Jackson turned as I entered my chambers.

"Where have you been?" he asked. "I've been looking everywhere for you."

Early morning light streamed in through the golden curtains. Jackson stood near the archway. He still wore his tuxedo from the night before. His bow-tie lay undone across his neck and the first several buttons of his shirt were loose. His hair was messed up, as if he had run his hand through it a thousand times.

"I went to see the witch in the dungeons," I said. "How is Coach King? Is he going to survive?"

Jackson rubbed the back of his neck. "It doesn't look good," he said. "He's been asking to see you."

My lips parted. "He has?" I asked. I looked down at my dress. Blood and dirt caked the bottom of the skirt. "Should I go now? Is he awake?"

"He was asleep when I left," Jackson said. "But you don't want to wait too long. I don't think he'll survive for more than a day or two. Priestess Winter's daughter really did a number on him."

My heart skipped a beat. "Zara?"

Jackson's eyes met mine and he shook his head. "No," he said. "Of course not Zara. He said she was there but that it was her oldest sister, Selene, that stabbed him with one of their ritual knives."

I sat down on the edge of the bed, my legs wobbly. "I can't believe this is happening."

Jackson sat next to me and put his hand gently on my leg. "Did you find out anything from the witch?"

I reached up and unfastened the crown from my head. It had grown heavy over the past twelve hours. I took it off and held it in my lap, the gemstones glittering in the dim light. "Priestess Winter knows about me being half-demon. She knows I'm the king's daughter. She knows everything," I said. "She sent the tiger witch here to try to capture me, but when she never showed up back in the human world, Priestess Winter moved on to my sister. She knows I'll try to save her."

Jackson ran his hand through his hair. "So it's a trap."

"It seems that way," I said. "And a good one too."

"What do you want to do?" His gorgeous green eyes searched mine. "I'm with you no matter what you decide."

I placed my hand on top of his. The warmth of his skin felt so good after being in the cold dungeon air. "How could I possibly turn my back on my sister?" I asked.

Without warning, the wave of emotions I'd been holding back overflowed and gushed forth from me. Hot tears spilled down my cheeks. I set the crown on the bed and stood just as Jackson threw his arms around me. He hugged me tight to his body as sobs stole my breath.

"I'm so sorry," he said. "We'll go after her. We'll get her back."

I nodded, my tears soaking into his collar. "We'll save my sister and then we'll save Aerden," I said. "The Order has to be stopped, Jackson. Priestess Winter has to be stopped. Now that she knows about me, she'll never stop until she has control of my power."

"We'll stop her together," he said. He held my shoulders and pulled back so that we could see each other's eyes. "We need a good plan. Your father's right about this being an impossible enemy. We won't win with force alone. We have to be smart."

The door to my room burst open and Tuli rushed in. She glanced at Jackson and ducked her head. "I am so sorry to interrupt, but you need to come soon Princess," she said. She lifted her eyes and they were filled with sorrow and fear. "Roan, your sister's guardian, has taken a turn for the worst. He is in a great deal of pain, Princess, and he is asking to speak to you alone. I believe he is holding on until he sees you."

I wiped the tears from my face and nodded, a twinge of pain and sorrow tightening my chest. "Show me the way," I said.

With a heavy heart, I followed her toward the healing rooms, knowing these would be the last moments of Coach King's life.

Zara's Gift

The smell of death hung in the air.

Coach King lay on a bed in the center of the room. He was covered with a blanket all the way up to his chin. His body shivered beneath it. I pulled another blanket from a stack near the door and laid it carefully over his body.

The coach opened his eyes to a slit. When he saw my face, his lower lip trembled and a tear fell across his temple and disappeared into the pillow beneath his head.

"She loved you so much." His voice was made of gravel and sand. "From the minute you first arrived in Peachville and she realized who you were, she never stopped talking about you."

He spoke of her as if she were already lost to us forever.

"I'm going to get her back." I sat down on a small wooden chair beside the bed. "They won't kill her as long as they think they can use her to get to me."

He cleared his throat, then winced. His knees and shoulders lifted slightly as he scrunched his injured middle together. Finally, he relaxed again. "She wouldn't want you to come after her," he said. "She'd never forgive herself if anything happened to you."

"Don't worry about that now," I said. "You need to rest."

He turned his head to me and pulled one arm from under the blanket. He clasped my hand tight. "I have to tell you something before it's too late," he said. His eyes darted toward the cabinet in the far corner. "My jacket. The one I was wearing when I got here. I think it's in the cabinet. Can you get it for me?"

I stood and walked over to the cabinet. Inside, his blood-stained letterman jacket hung on a metal peg. I lifted it out and brought it over to him, confused as to why this jacket could be so important to him now.

"In the pocket," he said.

I dug into each pocket until finally, in one of the inside pockets, I found a folded piece of paper.

I held it out to him. "Is this what you want?"

He nodded. "Open it."

He pressed his head back against his pillow, his body going stick straight as a wave of pain washed over him. He reached out for my hand and gripped it hard.

When it had passed, I carefully unfolded the paper, breathless to see what was so important. Drawn with perfect precision was a picture of a crystal butterfly made of diamonds and blue stones. It looked so familiar, but I couldn't remember where I'd seen it.

"Where did you get this?" I asked.

"When the Winters came to my home, they were all there. The priestess and her three daughters," he said. "The youngest one, Zara, came up to me just as the others were pulling my wife from the house. She stuffed this into my pocket and told me I had to hold on until I could bring this to you. That you would remember her gift. She said it was the key to saving your sister."

A slow breath filled my lungs as I drew a hand to my lips. Zara's gift. I could see it now as clear as day. A small white box given to me after the Heritage ritual in the basement of Winterhaven. The butterfly had a bobby pin attached so I could wear it in my hair, but I'd never actually had a chance to.

She never even hinted that the butterfly had any kind of special power.

"Did she say anything else?" I asked. "Did she tell you how it would help me?"

He swallowed hard and shook his head. "She only had the briefest moment to talk to me," he said. "Her sister told her to finish me off, but she let me live so I could give you this message. That's all I know."

His face contorted and he cried out.

I cringed and wished I could do something to help him. I had completely misunderstood him all this time. After everything that had happened with Tori and some of the other cheerleaders, I'd thought he was one of the bad guys. How could I have known he was a demon charged with guarding my sister?

I looked at him with fresh eyes. It had all been an act this whole time. A distraction to hide his true identity, perhaps. He had sacrificed his own life to protect my sister.

A debt I knew I would never be able to repay.

A bright red stain bloomed in the middle of the blanket that covered him. He clenched his teeth tight and shut his eyes. I stood and ran into the hallway to find a healer, but it was no use.

By the time I turned around, Coach King was gone.

The First Breath

I returned to my room, exhausted and heartbroken.

I ran a bath, getting the water as hot as it would go. I stepped out of my ruined ballgown and took all the pins from my hair, letting the waves fall across my shoulders and down my back.

The image of Coach King's dead body lingered in my memory. I had never seen a demon die. In a way, it had been beautiful. When his body had gone still, a white mist lifted from it and a white light formed. It wasn't a blaring kind of light that would make your eyes burn, but it wasn't exactly dim either. I'd never seen anything like it.

His spirit hovered there for a moment, then shimmered and filled with color. A soul passing into what the demons called the Afterworld. Here in the shadow world, a demon's passing was usually of their own choosing. A way to move on and make room for the next generation. Roan, my father's friend and my sister's guardian, had not had a chance to choose his passing.

After a moment, only his body remained, his spirit gone from this place.

What would happen when I died? Would my spirit be lifted from me as a shimmering light?

I descended into the bath, letting it burn my skin.

I needed to wash away the stench of the dungeons and the memory of dried blood.

I closed my eyes and sank beneath the water. I let it surround me, welcoming the pain. I wanted to feel something. To ache on the outside as much as I did on the inside.

I was done with feeling numb. I was finished with patience and waiting. Now was the time for action.

I shed my fears and my doubts there in the water. I stripped away thoughts of impossible enemies and let the potential for defeat dissolve into nothingness.

When my lungs screamed for air, I finally rose and gulped it in. The first breath of a new life. A renewed purpose.

The Order had my sister. My flesh and blood.

And I was going to get her back.

Worth Dying For

My father sat on the throne, his head resting in his hands.

I took a deep breath and walked over to him. He was obviously grieving, but I had no idea how to comfort him. "I'm sorry about your friend," I said, not sure what else I could say.

"I couldn't save him," he said. "All this power to heal and it still wasn't enough against those witches. In the human world, the metal from the ritual daggers becomes like a fast-working poison. By the time he got here, it was already too late. I couldn't save him without sacrificing myself."