The Demon Within (2 page)

Or maybe they were taking the first steps into the pit of Hell. It was a toss-up.

The skinny guides set a quick pace through miles of jungle as if chased by some unseen force she could almost sense. She had no doubt if the crew fell behind, the two men would disappear.

The guide before her plowed forward at a determined pace, her plodding a step behind. A stir of air was all the warning she received when the underbrush came snapping back. Caly ducked, swatted the branches, barely dodging a nasty slap in the face.

She glared at the male in front of her, the pommel of the blade nestled comfortably in her hand as she contemplated if she could get away with murder. Unfortunately, she didn’t think the team would appreciate her killing the only men who knew the way.

“Don’t do it. We don’t need to be hiding bodies or wandering blind, asses in hand, to find that blasted temple.”

Caly whirled at the low, rumbling voice.

Too fast.

Knowledge edged into his eyes.

He knew.

She suspected he’d known for a while, but he’d never confront her, and she didn’t know why. She tried to keep her distance, but he wouldn’t allow it. All she could do was watch and wait for her world to fall apart.

“Damn it, Cunningham, I told you not to sneak up on me. I could’ve hurt you.” She quickly resumed the march. After a minute, her heartbeat trickled back to its steady rhythm at the near miss. She’d been so focused on her anger, she’d grown careless. She had to be more careful if she hoped to keep her secret from the rest of the group.

“Nah, you like me too much.”

“Why’d you have to come?” After his family had been taken from him, he only lived for death. And she, for one, didn’t want to be the one to grant him his wish.

“What? Don’t you like my sparkling personality?”

A choked laugh escaped despite the insidious fear prickling between her shoulder blades like sharp little claws. The barrel-chested man treated her as a daughter despite her resolve to keep her distance. When others made her feel like a pariah, he never once spoke a word of doubt. And because of that, she’d give her life for him.

“You
know
as well as I do that it’s a trap.” She couldn’t keep the snap of anger out of her voice.

“Yeah, well. I couldn’t have you going off alone, now could I? You shouldn’t have come.” He shook his head, grousing like a hen after a chick. “You barely sleep, barely rest the way things stand.”

“Like you should talk.”

A small, broken smile tipped his lips. “I sleep with my eyes open.”

More like can’t sleep at all with the nightmares ripping at his soul the way the demons had his family. She glanced away so they both could pretend they didn’t know the truth.

No, they needed to focus on the trouble at hand. A problem they could solve. When the dratted messenger boy had arrived a few days ago with the news of her cousin’s disappearance, Caly would’ve brushed it off as one of Juliet’s way to cause mischief. Lord knew the girl did it often enough when they were teenagers.

The simplicity of the trap made it infallible for one simple reason. Oscar took it as a personal attack. It would’ve come to nothing if they hadn’t been related. It didn’t hurt that Juliet was devastatingly gorgeous and could entice any man…living or dead.

“You mark my words, the twit might not be a demon, but the girl doesn’t have the sense God gave a dog and the morals of one in heat. If she wanted something, I wouldn’t put it past her to be in league with the demons to get it.” Money, power and men — those were the only gods Juliet worshiped.

“Maybe. Maybe not. Who knows what goes on in the big man’s head.” Cunningham stared at Oscar’s back as if he could read their leader’s intent if he looked hard enough.

Caly disagreed. Something deep in her bones told her this trip was a mistake, a twist of panic that warned her to run.

A sharp sting pinched the flesh at the back of her hairline. She hunched her shoulders, but it did no good against the little pests. Caly slapped at the little bugger and grimaced at the smear of blood.

A small swarm buzzed past her head.

“Sneaky bastards.” Cunningham laughed.

“The damn place is alive.”

And it was hungry.

Her body didn’t have a single inch of flesh that wasn’t itchy or numb from the tiny vampires constant feasting. Every blasted one of them nibbled on her before moving down the line, buffet style.

A curse rang out behind her and a small smile quirked her lips. Though petty, she took sadistic pleasure she wasn’t alone in her misery.

“Why’d you come, Caly?”

The seriousness of his voice made her hesitate. Should she tell him the truth or just what he wanted to hear? She settled for a little of both. “It’s a trap. Someone wanted us down here for a reason. They wanted me down here. I owe it to Oscar and the team to find out why and keep them safe.”

Cunningham grabbed her arm hard enough to leave bruises and jerked her to a stop. “Calypso Judith Sawyer, if I hear that again, I’ll turn you over my knee and tan your hide.” He yanked up the sleeve of her shirt. “This goes beyond duty. You owe that man nothing.”

A three-quarter inch swath of twisted, melted skin marred her wrist. Proof of Oscar’s fanatical search for a way to destroy the demons, proof he would do anything and everything to put an end to the creatures’ existence, even if it meant killing her in one of his experiments.

Silence stretched. Only Oscar knew the truth about her past. Nobody else could know her connection to the very creatures they hunted. If Cunningham knew more, he’d kept his suspicions to himself, and she was pathetically grateful for the reprieve. But she couldn’t hide any longer.

She swallowed past her painfully dry throat. “You know.”

Cunningham shrugged and looked away. “When are you both going to accept that you deserve a chance to live in peace? That you’re still human?” He let her go and marched ahead, the tense set of his shoulders a clear indication of his anger at her continual obedience to a man who had done everything in his power to destroy her.

“He saved my life.” It was a twist of fate she’d even come to Oscar’s attention. Funny thing, she hadn’t decided yet if that had been a blessing or not.

“Bullshit. Both he and Juliet made your life miserable. What do you plan to do? Pay them back by dying here?” With a fierce expression, Cunningham dropped back a few steps. “You’re more human than the rest of the team.”

Caly frowned, refusing to contemplate his accusations, especially the last statement — no matter how much she wished it were true. She concentrated on the march, her gaze zeroing in on the man who’d orchestrated the trip.

Oscar strode next to the two guides, helping clear a path. The big, burly man had the look of an intrepid explorer intent on a mission, determined to win at any cost.

At seventy-eight years old, he had more stamina than a man half his age. The rigors of training, the intricate fighting styles he taught his pupils, were double what most men could handle at any age. More than one person had been broken by Oscar’s sharp tongue and vicious temper.

Caly didn’t know if it was a true accomplishment or a curse to be the only woman to ever pass his stringent tests. Her special enhancements made her the perfect soldier, but Oscar came from an old world where women had their place and men protected what was theirs. He hated that he couldn’t break her and made no secret of the fact. Perversely, although he’d never admit it, Caly sensed a streak of pride for what he’d created in her.

A twig snapped behind her, followed by a loud thump and heavy cursing. Oscar’s body froze mid-step. Time stopped for a second. Everyone waited for the flash of temper he’d been known to unleash on the hapless. The muscles of his shoulders flexed as he shook off his irritation and continued with the all-important mission.

Everyone seemed to let out a collective sigh.

“Bloody jungle.” A whine tinged Henry’s voice, but the underlying violence had her fingers curling into fists. Experience taught her to watch her back around him. Henry used women like toilet paper, and it gave her the willies to think she’d dated him for a week when she’d been sixteen before she’d wised up and realized all his charm was for Oscar’s benefit.

He thought it was a game to aggravate her and made it his personal mission to knock her out of the way on his rise to the top. He seemed to think she was the only thing preventing his advancement. So anything he could do to make her look like a fool was a bonus.

She’d wish he’d get a clue and realize she didn’t care about rank. She pushed away her animosity before she beat his ass, increasing her steps until her muscles tightened with a pleasant burn. The uneven jungle floor leveled out, a carelessly laid stone appeared every few feet. Twenty paces later, they were less random, closer together, forming a pathway.

The jungle vines closed in a little, crowded in on both sides. A tinge of claustrophobia shortened her breath, and the scars on her wrists throbbed. She beat it back by sheer will and focused on her duty, not the irrational fear of being imprisoned again.

The overhead canopy consisted of climbing vines knitted together, the vegetation melded to form a solid meshed structure that blocked the light. The place would be beautiful if she could overcome the sense that the jungle appeared to be herding them. The world around her fell silent from one step to the next, the lack of sound in such a vast place crept up and crouched heavily on her senses.

Late afternoon sun vanished as shadows darkened the area to an eerie, surreal world. They had to hurry. Darkness would fall soon, and the devil danced at night in her world

Oscar’s clenched fist shot in the air. Halting mid-step, Caly scanned the undergrowth for any sign of movement, every muscle tensed for action.

“Why’d we stop?” Unheeding the command, Henry plowed forward, jolting against her. Two distinct palms slapped the center of her back, shoving her out of the way with a force that sent her staggering.

“Damn it all, woman, move.” He marched forward shooting her a little smirk over his shoulder.

Momentum propelled her toward the vines on her left. Her hand shot through the green mesh as she fought for balance. Pain streaked through her palm and down her arm when it connected to something solid. Her foot slid, and she landed on one knee.

“Inconsiderate jackass.” Cunningham quickly stormed after Henry. “That boy needs a beating, and I’m just the man to do it.”

“Leave it.”

Cunningham only waved her comment away.

Blood trickled from a gash, coating the rough surface beneath her fingers. Warming it. Pulling her arm back, she ignored the cut and parted the vines.

And caught a glimpse of stone.

Spreading the vegetation further, she stilled when powerful thighs filled her gaze. The voices of the men arguing disappeared in the background as she tilted her head back and looked up.

A black beetle so large it had to be on steroids paused in climbing the statue and flicked a perturbed glance at her. With a little hiss for disturbing him, the little critter launched itself in the air with a flutter of wings. She flinched, bowed backwards to miss being hit in the face.

And met the open-eyed stare of the stone man, forever captured in time. Thoughts of bugs vanished. Caly’s lips parted, and her breath stuttered out of her mouth.

There was a God.

The man — and from her view kneeling on the moss covered ground, he was most definitely a man — was absolutely gorgeous. Not in the normal sense, not by Hollywood standards. Prominent cheekbones, a full, sharp nose and a strong jaw kept his face from being too feminine.

Desire twisted through her. A deep yearning tightened her chest, and a bubble of hope swelled. This was a man she could depend on to not let her down. When she looked at him, the chaos inside that defined most of her life settled.

She felt normal.

Then reality crashed over her.

Desire for a damn statue.

How ironic she could be attracted to stone when living men left her cold. But here, in the middle of nowhere, she found a man who turned her on like nobody else, and he wasn’t real. It was enough to make a grown girl cry.

Little details filtered into her brain, and a thrill of excitement thrummed under her skin. The answers she sought about her condition were stuck in the past; she only had to uncover the clues. Since they’ve landed, he was the first concrete hint something was off.

This was why she came here. What quieted her protests against the mission. All for the chance to learn if there was a possibility for her to be fully human again and finally destroy the demon infection that had taken root and flourished in her body. Every day, it ate away her humanity. Relished the fighting a bit too much. Each time the darkness opened up in her, the more she wondered why she fought it at all.

The mission forgotten, Caly took her time to catalog the odd details. The statue wasn’t what she’d come to expect from this region. Instead of native garb, the grey stone man had chiseled, close fitted pants.

Two inch carved straps crisscrossed his chest, appearing to almost dig into the stone. His long hair, wild with waves, was tied back from his face. Her fingers twitched to run her hands over him. Though his complexion was tinged green with age, the fierce expression drew her gaze instead of repelling her.