Night Huntress 03.5 - Devil to Pay (4 page)

Mencheres studied Elise. She looked away from his probing gaze. Finally, a heavy sigh came from him.

“You’ve come to care for the human.”

It wasn’t Mencheres’s mind-reading skills that betrayed her. Those only worked on humans, not other vampires. Mencheres just knew her too well.

“It makes no sense,” Elise admitted. “He has no value in this world, no reason to go on. Plus, he
wants
to die. But I was like that, too, once.
Maybe more than once.”

The silence stretched between them, filling with the unspoken memory of their history. Mencheres didn’t need to be reminded that Elise had also been desperate to die when she was human. After all, it was how they’d met.

“I will try,” Mencheres said at last. “But there may be nothing that can be done.”

Elise laid her hand on her his arm. “Sire…
father
… thank you.”

Mencheres’s dark gaze was bleak. “You may not thank me when this is over.”

The metal clamps bit into Blake’s wrists, ankles, and waist. Bones had shackled him to the wall in a way that let Blake know the vampire wasn’t concerned whether he was bruised in the process. Add the green glinting in Bones’s eyes and the fangs curving where normal teeth had been, and Blake knew he was staring death in the face.

“No one’s here,” Blake said quietly. “You could say it was an
accident, that
I tried to get away.”

Bones shot him a single glare. “Mate, if killing you were an option, you’d have met your maker hours ago. But I’m not giving that foul beast inside you the satisfaction of freeing it.
Not until there’s nowhere for it to run.”

Elise’s entering the room with a tall, foreign-looking man stopped Blake’s reply. She had her hand in the stranger’s, and Blake wondered if this was her husband or boyfriend. Oddly, he didn’t like either thought.

“You tried to control his mind?” the stranger asked Bones, traces of an unfamiliar accent in his voice.

Bones grunted.
“Too right.
Filthy get wouldn’t shut up in the car, and for some reason, he kept after my wife the whole bloody trip.”

The stranger looked thoughtful at this information. Blake winced.

“I’m sorry.”

The stranger moved to the side, and Blake saw he had a dog behind him, of all things. Elise shut the door. It was just the four of them and a mastiff in the room.
What now?
Blake wondered.

The stranger’s eyes narrowed on
Blake,
then went green. So bright, like looking into the sun, but a different color. Staring into his eyes, Blake felt as if he
were
spinning, but that was impossible, since he was manacled to a wall. His heart began to pound, and a weird feeling of panic rose.

Elise moved to stand close to him, not touching, but her presence was soothing anyway.

“This is my sire, Mencheres,” she said softly. “He’s going to help you.”

No one can help me,
Blake thought,
then
almost recoiled at the blast of invisible bands that gripped him. What the hell?

“Something’s… squeezing me,” he gasped out.

Mencheres kept staring at him with those hypnotic eyes. “I am.”

The pressure increased until lights danced in his vision, and he could barely breathe.
This is it
, Blake realized.
I’m dying.

“Sire,” he heard Elise say, sounding agitated.

Don’t worry,
Blake wanted to tell her, but didn’t have enough air for the words.
I’m not afraid. Thank you for everything you’ve done. It’s not a bad way to go, actually, looking at your beautiful face…

“What is your name?” Mencheres asked. His voice sounded far off and echoing. Amidst the encroaching darkness, unable to breathe, Blake wondered how the guy expected him to answer.

“What is your name?” the question was repeated, with more emphasis. Mencheres’s face filled Blake’s vision, those ghastly glowing eyes boring into his.
Get away,
Blake thought.
Let me see Elise again. She’s the only one in this room who gives a shit about me.

“
What is your name?
”
With a harder squeeze.
Everyone but Mencheres faded out of Blake’s sight. Blake’s lungs were burning, his chest jerking in a vain attempt to coax air into it.

“Xaphan,” someone hissed. Surprisingly, the voice was clear to Blake. Should he be able to hear things while he was dying?

“Xaphan,” Mencheres repeated. More power slammed into Blake, until there was nothing in his vision but black, and he couldn’t feel the pain in his lungs anymore. “Leave him.”

An ugly laugh echoed across Blake’s mind.
“No, little Menkaure.
And you’re not strong enough to force me.”

Another squeeze.
It seemed like so long since he’d breathed, Blake didn’t know how he was still even alive to register the viselike grip.

“Leave him.”

That awful buzzing filled his head, indicating the demon was about to take over. Blake wanted to scream, but he couldn’t move, couldn’t see,
couldn’t
talk. What if this was hell? Was he already dead and paying for all the things he’d done?

A string of words in a language Blake had never heard somehow penetrated his consciousness. The weirdest thing was, it was in a feminine voice, and it wasn’t Elise.

Mencheres growled. That’s how it sounded, anyway, and something so heavy and hard pressed against Blake that he prayed for mercy.
Please, no.
Too much.
Stop. Stop!

“Come out of him!” It was a roar that Blake felt in his bones. Then he was falling, blinding lights streaking by. For a few incredible seconds, Blake felt free of everything. Even sound faded into silence, leaving blissful, peaceful, welcoming silence.
At last…

Then feeling came back in a rush of pain as something pressed on his chest, and his lungs felt like he’d inhaled fire. This time, when he opened his eyes, he saw Elise’s face over his. Her mouth came down, not in a kiss, but to blow air into him.

Blake coughed, tilting his head because all of a sudden, he needed to gulp in breaths. Her hands—pale, cool, soft—touched his forehead.

“Are you all right?”

Blake couldn’t reply, too occupied with gulping oxygen to try to form words. A dark head leaned over him, black hair falling around his shoulders.

“I can’t save him,” Mencheres stated flatly. “The demon inside him is too strong.”

Chapter Seven

T
he sun had set an hour ago. Elise was tired, lack of sleep from this morning starting to catch up with her. Still, she didn’t take Mencheres up on his offer to have someone else guard Blake while she rested. It seemed too cruel to pass Blake off to a stranger just so she could sleep, especially since people were acting like Blake was already dead.

She took Blake to the kitchen, knowing there would be plenty for him to eat. The humans who lived with Mencheres as willing blood donors for him and his entourage meant that the kitchen was stocked. Blake was ravenous, wolfing down three plates of food before looking embarrassed at his excess. Elise’s stomach growled as well, but not for what Blake was eating. She pushed down her hunger with the same ruthlessness she’d used to forgo sleep. Blake didn’t have long to live. The least Elise could do was to make these last days as comfortable as possible.

With that in mind, she’d refused to pack Blake up and start the journey to the salt flats tonight. There’d be time enough after Blake was fed and rested, she’d insisted to Mencheres, and he didn’t argue. Bones was less agreeable, muttering that every minute they
hesitated,
the demon had a chance to possess someone else, continuing its carnage through a new person.

Elise could see Bones’s logic. Even a couple days ago, she’d have agreed with it, but a lot had changed in the last twenty-four hours. Blake’s first thought ever since she’d met him had been about what was best for other people. Well, Elise would be the one to think about what was best for
him,
and tonight, that wasn’t loading him up in a car to drive to his death. Death would come soon enough for Blake, and that knowledge gnawed at Elise worse than her hunger or lack of sleep. It wasn’t right. Long ago, Elise had been given a second chance. Why couldn’t one be found for Blake?

Mencheres walked into the kitchen, silent as a shadow. Elise was sitting next to Blake on a barstool by the counter-top, close enough that she could feel
and
see Blake tense when he noticed the other vampire.

“What did you do to me before, in the other room?” Blake asked Mencheres, his voice almost casual.

“I suffocated you until you were between life and death. It was my hope that I could use your weakened condition to force the demon out and send it into the dog,” was Mencheres’s equally calm reply. “It didn’t work. I’m sorry”

“And you did all that without even touching me.” Blake sounded bemused. “You must be one powerful vampire.”

For a second, Mencheres looked weary. “Not powerful enough. The demon in you is ancient and strong. It will grow stronger with each person it destroys, so I can’t let it go free.”

“No, you can’t,” Blake agreed, his jaw tightening. “I know better than anyone about the horrible things it will do. This needs to end.”

Mencheres stared at Blake. “You’re a very brave young man. I do regret what must be done.”

Elise glanced away. She felt a stinging in her eyes, even if it had been longer than she could remember since the last time that happened.

“Mencheres, I need a razor,” Elise said abruptly. “After Blake showers, he can shave.”

Blake gave her a surprised look, but Mencheres’s expression was grim.

“You can’t leave him alone with the razor,” Mencheres said. “The demon will know what we’ve planned. Xaphan will try very hard to kill Blake, so he can escape into an unknown host before Blake reaches the salt flats.”

Blake snorted. “Before, the demon wouldn’t let me kill myself. Now he wants to do the honors? And what are these salt flats I keep hearing about?”

Mencheres opened his mouth, but Elise answered, unable to keep the huskiness from her voice.

“Demons can jump into any living thing once their host dies, even an animal that’s several miles away. So when we… when you die, there can’t be anything alive nearby for miles.”

“Wouldn’t it be okay if the demon were to possess an animal?” Blake asked. “I mean, a possessed armadillo couldn’t do much damage.”

“Animal possession is very temporary,” Mencheres replied. “The demon’s goal is to get back into a person. It’s easy to compel an animal to kill itself once people are around. Haven’t you ever noticed that some animals seem to throw themselves into traffic? The driver of the first car to strike a possessed animal would, by virtue of closest contact,
then
become the next person the demon possessed.”

Blake sighed. “It just keeps getting more twisted, doesn’t it?”

“There’s only one type of place where it’s safe to force out a demon,” Mencheres went on, filling the loaded silence. “The salt flats. Salt is a natural element for containing a demon. Once the host dies, the salt limits a demon’s range to only a mile in every direction, and there are no humans or wildlife living on the salt flats.”

Elise wished she knew what Blake was thinking so she could… what? Tell him things would work out? They wouldn’t. There were so few things she could do to help him, and that knowledge made her feel worse than useless. Not only had she failed to save him, she’d be one of his executioners.

“Okay.” Blake nodded briskly. “That makes sense. I’m glad you guys know how to stop it. I wish I had found you sooner.”

“It seems like fate that you found us at all,” Mencheres said, staring at Elise. “Demons feed on rage, hatred, jealously—all our lesser emotions. Once they’ve consumed everything they can out of a person, they move on. Elise tells me you were possessed when a woman ran in front of your car several months ago. You understand now what happened. The demon used her up,
then
it let her kill herself to find a new body. It would have eventually done the same to you.”

Mencheres paused, his gaze flicking back to Blake. “You must be very strong. As a rule, humans don’t last long before the demon controls them completely. For you to still have periods of control against a demon of Xaphan’s caliber—remarkable.”

Blake shoved his plate away and held out his hands. “Do you see the blood still staining these?” he asked, intensity pouring off each syllable. “There is
nothing
remarkable about being a murderer, and that’s what this thing has made me.”

Elise wanted to tell Blake that no, he wasn’t the killer. He was the weapon, and weapons didn’t have a choice. But even though she believed that, the words eluded her.

She stood. She might not be able to say anything to ease Blake’s guilt, but she could still do something.

“Let’s clean the blood off you, for a start.”

Chapter Eight

B
lake stood under the hot spray of the shower and closed his eyes. This felt good. Normal. It used to be his routine every morning and night. Now he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a hot shower. The stall was big, too. One of those upscale versions where there were multiple heads and two entrances to it. These vampires sure lived in style.