Second Skin (Skinned) (30 page)

I ignored Wade’s angry bellow.

I ordered,
Don’t let it escape.
Then shut him out of my thoughts.

Silent as the graves, except for my harsh breaths.

“There, now we can have some quality time,” I said, facing the night mare, who looked a bit stunned that I’d forfeited my backup. “You know, I figure you must be one ugly son of a bitch. You never reveal your true self. Is your face really that bad? Didn’t the other demon spawn let you play any demon-spawn games?”

Anger flared in the night mare’s eyes, crimson ripples overtaking my father’s familiar hazel ones. He stomped forward, lifted his hands, and chanted.

The wall groaned and shook. Then fell still. The scent of mint emanated from the stones. Wade had done as I’d asked. The demon could not escape with his dream realm skills. Until this fight was finished, we were both locked inside.

“I have a bit of an issue with confined spaces.” My father shrugged. “But animals like you have no problem cowering in the ground. Wasn’t that the first thing you did after you attacked Alec? Buried yourself in the earth?”

I bit back a curse as the jibe hit home.
Focus, Eryn. He’s just trying to get in your head.

The smell of sour gas filled my nostrils. The demon no longer needed to cloak its scent.

I wrinkled my nose. “Have you been flossing? ’Cause that’s a mean case of doggy breath.” I grinned. “And I’d know.”

“What you
don’t
know could take up a small planet.” We circled, each waiting for the other to strike. “Really?” I pursed my lips. “Enlighten me.”

“That dagger you wield, don’t you want to know how your father obtained such a rare bauble?”

My steps faltered.

“Do you hear the screams, Eryn?” He raised an arm, smashed it down at my head. I blocked it with the dagger, slicing up through his coat, his muscles and tendons. The wound should have weakened him, but he merely spun out of reach, laughing. “Can’t you feel their rage every time you pick up that blade?”

Freely Given

Black goop dripped from the tip of my athame. Demon blood. The stench of rotting corpses and well-fed maggots gagged me. What was he getting at? My father collected loads of magical objects; the dagger was like the others. A gift. Or was it? The only thing I remembered about the dagger’s origin was that it had once belonged to a coven of Dutch witches. And that my father claimed he’d gone through hell to get it.

The sigils on the blade shimmered once more, the silver glow building again as I reached out to the power of the dream realm. Or was I actually working the blade’s magic?

Had my father bartered or
killed
for this weapon?

“Magic can be borrowed, shared, and even drained.” The demon circled like a wolf around a wounded stag, waiting for me to fall. To break. “But it can never be completely taken from the source. It must be freely given.”

A flash of Elizabeth as she bared her neck, inviting her son, Wade, to feed.
I give freely
. She hadn’t given her life alone, she’d transferred her power.

“Yes, you’re getting it now. Oh, how splendid.” The demon’s voice penetrated my dread. “However did dear old dad get an entire coven of witches to fork over their magic?”

I glanced up into its face, which was twisted with pleasure. Still, it hadn’t charged me, which meant…

I tilted the dagger, examining the sigils. “How he got it doesn’t matter. It’s mine, and you can’t take it, can you?” I offered him the rosewood hilt.

The demon licked its lips. A flush of excitement warmed my father’s pale cheeks. It reached out. The sigils responded, sparks of light spitting at his hand, causing him to retreat, hissing and shaking out the pain.

“Hand it over, Eryn,” he growled. “You don’t want their blood on your hands anymore.” His tone became coaxing. “I can take this burden from your young, fragile shoulders.”

I shook my head against a dull throbbing at the base of my skull that was weakening both me and my wolf. Though he couldn’t physically touch the blade unless I willingly handed over ownership, the demon tapped into the blade’s magic and dragged power from it and through it—draining me. Struggling to keep my face from reflecting my internal panic, I floundered, searching for a way to stop it.

Can’t give in. This is not my father. Not pack.

My wolven vision engaged, allowing me a few seconds of respite. To see beyond the demon’s glamour and through the holographic projection of my father’s face.
Red eyes. Rows of serrated teeth.
Its true form, demonic and ferocious, shot from the visage of my father, snapped at my power, and settled back into his familiar features.

I called to my wolf, willing myself to shift, but nothing happened. I stood, fists clenched, muscles locked, willing myself to turn. Couldn’t she feel the danger? I needed her. Now.

“What’s wrong, Eryn?” The demon blinked. “Having trouble performing? Isn’t that a guy thing?”

Inside, my wolf howled with rage. But I remain focused. The night mare had prevented me from turning. Fine. We didn’t need a shift for my wolf and me to share our talents. I asked and she responded. Her strength flooded through every cell, every vein, helping to drive back the demon.

This time it was he who staggered. I took advantage of his lack of balance, charging forward, ramming my fragile, young shoulder into his gut while thrusting my athame at his jugular. Slicing through air.

“Like all children, you’ve glorified your parents.” The demon reappeared behind me.

I whirled, settling into a battle stance, one foot forward, weight on the balls of my feet.

“In your mind they could do no wrong. They’re godlike. But I have news for you, Eryn. Your father was not a god. He was a devil.”

If I wasn’t careful, the night mare would weaken me, draining whatever power I managed to gather. Which meant I must attack while it was talking.

Perfect. I wasn’t liking the conversation much anyway. “He was a monster.”

“Then the apple didn’t fall far from the monster tree, did it?” I shot out a side kick, catching the demon in the stomach.

It bent over, sucking in air as I thrust my dagger upward the blade an inch from my father’s throat.

He froze, then straightened slowly, my dagger tracking his movements, the sigils glowing with such intensity I could barely see the blade. His gaze held mine, softening. Pleading.

“My sweet girl, I’ve missed you so much.” Confusion knotted his dark brow. “Why are you doing this?”

“Shut up!” The dagger trembled in my grip. “You’re not my father.” Tears burned behind my eyes. “Stop hiding behind his face.” I couldn’t do it, couldn’t strike while the demon looked so much like Dad.

“I’m not the one who’s been hiding, Eryn.” Dad held up his hands as if to surrender. “How long have you been confused? It’s the meds, isn’t it? They’re wearing off. We could have helped before it got this far. Why didn’t you talk to me? Or your mother?”

“Mom?” I sucked in a breath as my mother’s scent overpowered the confines of the stone enclosure. Sunshine after the rain. Mountain clearings. Hope.

A voice behind me.
Her
voice. Wavering. “Oh my God, Eryn, what are you doing?”

My father’s glance skirted over my shoulder and settled there. “Come closer, love. The day I feared so much is finally here. Eryn’s turned against me. You’re the only one who can talk to her now.”

I backed away as my mother strode forward to stand at my father’s side. I moaned. If only they were really here. If only…

“Oh, my baby girl, what have you done?” The sadness in my mother’s voice had me choking on a scream of raw sorrow. She glided forward.

“Give your father the knife.” Her eyes pleaded. “Then we can be together again.”

“Stay back.” I shook my head, waved my dagger between them. “Don’t come near me.”

“It’s no use, Tera,” my father said, sounding so rational, so like himself that my pulse pounded. “You know what you have to do.”

Damn, what if I was really crazy, mad, insane? What if everything I’d done since moving to Redgrave was the dream, and I was only now waking up?

Mom gave me one last sad glance, then her entire body shimmered with the change. Stunned, I lowered my hand. She wasn’t going to…

A fierce black wolf launched into the air, claws and teeth gleaming. I bolted sideways. The wolf slammed into the stone wall, the impact sending bits of stone crumbling to the ground. I hugged the wall, seeking escape like a bunny in a cage.

Mom was trying to kill me. To rip me apart.

My wolf raged and howled, but unable to turn, the best she could offer was strength and speed to my human form. The black wolf tracked my movements, lunging close. Snapping and snarling.

The hilt of my athame dangled in my grip.

This isn’t happening.
My dream realm training surfaced. I sucked in air, organizing my scattered thoughts. Taking control of my body. Slowing my heart rate. Letting my wolf’s strength settle in my muscles, my bones. I was in control.
This isn’t real.

I jerked to a stop, surprising the wolf. I stared into glowing red eyes. Not my mother’s. The demon’s. I shook my head, shaking off the fuzziness that had settled in my mind. The demon’s doing.

I charged, athame at the ready. I twisted at the last second, my shoulder catching the wolf’s muzzle, wrenching those frothing jaws up and away. I plunged my dagger deep into its throat. Together we smashed into the stone, bursting through the wall and tumbling onto the snow.

I was barely aware of the crew as they rushed forward, crowding around me, taking up protective stances, yelling my name. Wade’s voice screamed in my mind, asking if I was okay, declaring death to the demon if I was hurt. Keening sobs tore from my mouth as I lay sprawled over the black wolf’s still body.

I bowed my head, fingers tangling in thick fur. It was my turn to ask for something I could never have.
Forgive me.
I whispered.
For giving you over to Sebastian. For not rescuing you. For this abomination.

“Let’s make a deal, Eryn,” my father said, his voice cutting through the emotional chaos.

I stared up as he stepped through the crumbling stone.

“Give me the athame, freely and without reservation, and I’ll spare your friends.” His grin was all teeth.

“Don’t listen to it,” Alec ordered. “We can take it down.”

But Wade’s warning came back to me.
If we die here, we die for real.
I couldn’t let the demon hurt my friends. My pack.

“Stay out of this,” I cried, staggering to my feet, the wolf’s blood smeared across my chest and dripping from the dagger’s tip.

Wade, hold them back
. I sent the message and then nodded my approval as Wade shoved Alec and Paige behind him. His gray eyes begged me not to give in to the demon, but he was letting me make the rules. Following my lead.

I stumbled forward, falling into my father’s arms. “I give up,” I whispered. “I can’t fight you anymore. If you want the dagger…” I lifted my head, stared into my father’s eyes.

“Oh, I do, Eryn,” he said, supporting my weight in one arm while tucking a strand of blood-soaked hair behind my ear. He rewarded my compliance with fatherly affection, pressing my shoulder in a gentle hug. “I do, my darling girl.”

I gave a weak smile. “Then take it…” I lifted the dagger, the blade wobbling between us.

“Your mother would be proud, Eryn,” Dad said, reaching for the hilt. “This is what she wanted for you from the beginning. To put this supernatural nonsense behind you. To live like a normal kid.” His eyes took on a ruby sheen.

That was all I needed. One hint of the demon beneath to push me into action.

My wolf’s strength surged to the surface. I plunged my dagger into the night mare’s chest, keenly aware I’d attacked Alec, my mother, and now my own father—all in the same night.