The Demon Within (26 page)

The sadness in his voice filled her eyes with a rush of tears. The loss, the loneliness drowned her, and her breath hiccupped in her chest.

His voice emerged gruff. “You must protect yourself. Without you, and others like you, there to fight, the war will be lost. You’re faster, stronger than most of the others. Use it to protect them.”

“Caly!” Ruman’s voice boomed in her head. “You need to wake up.”

She bolted upright only to have the seatbelt yank her back. Pain radiated along her cheek. When she looked up, she saw Ruman’s arm raised to deliver another blow. “Wha…at? What’s going on?” Her eyes refused to focus, and she fumbled with the buckle.

“Sandstorm. The car is too small, the wind’s too strong. We have to make a run for it until the storm works itself out.” Even as he spoke, the car rocked from side to side like a tilt o whirl.

The noise outside drowned out every sound but the pounding sand and the howl of the vengeful wind. Groggy, feeling drugged, Caly squinted out the window and couldn’t make sense of what she saw. The arid desert appeared like a wall of sand. Through the shifting grains, a shape of a ruin appeared less than twenty feet from the car.

“Come.” Ruman opened the door and struggled to slip on her pack. The door caught the wind, yanking the handle from his grip. Metal twisted and he swore. “Crawl across, there’s no way we’ll be able to open your side. Hurry.” He crouched low, using the car as a shield.

Caly did as told, slamming her knee against the console in her rush. “Damn.” The instant she left the shelter of the car, the grains of sand bit into her skin like needles piercing her flesh. Her legs shook, and she staggered. The wind ripped the air from her lungs, and Ruman stepped in front of her, taking the brunt of the force.

It didn’t matter. The sand hit her clothes with enough force to shred them, her leather protecting her only to some extent. The exposed skin felt sunburned, tight and itchy.

She resisted the urge to spit and clear her mouth, knowing she’d only get a mouthful of sand in return. Tears leaked from her eyes, the grit making them swollen. She snagged the back of Ruman’s jacket then reluctantly closed her eyes, trusting him not to get them killed.

When her boot skidded on stone, she risked a glance upward, and saw the old stone ruins. Two more steps and she was inside. She staggered from the lack of wind. It was all she could do to remain upright.

The calm inside felt unnatural, like an omen of worse things to come. Sand trickled from her hair and clothing with every move. She licked her lips, but found only sand. She leaned against the wall with a grunt, her legs folding under her as slid to the floor.

Ruman watched Caly, disturbed that she’d allowed him guide her without a fight. Something was seriously wrong.

She was so strong, seeing her weak reminded him that she was still part human and fragile. He clenched his fists. Nothing could happen to her.

His failure meant her life.

It hadn’t mattered with the others.

Now it was too damn important.

“Caly?” He couched then tilted her head back to study her face.

“Tired.” She shoved feebly at his hands, the timbre of her voice rough, her skin a shade paler than normal. Shadows under her eyes darkened like bruises. The lack of fight tightened his chest. He’d seen symptoms like this before. “Did you dream?”

A shrug was all he received in answer. His foreboding deepened into dread. “Caly—”

“Yes. Now leave me alone.” She yawned, shifted and closed her eyes.

The strength in his legs vanished. He cupped her head, his thumb brushing her cheek. “Look at me.”

Dull green eyes met his.

When she didn’t pull away, swallowing became difficult. He kept his voice soft, and hoped like hell he sounded coaxing and not royally pissed. “Tell me about your dream.”

Caly gazed blankly at him, and it was all he could do not to demand she answer. Why the hell had they taken his ability to read people when he needed it the most?

“I was in some museum, only it wasn’t.” A frown wrinkled between her brows. “Weapons decorated the walls, old, ancient pieces from all over the world.”

A deep, blistering anger took hold with every word she spoke, locking his muscles with rage. Though he wanted to be gentle, his voice dropped low and deadly. “Did a man appear?”

Caly’s stare sharpened, distrust coloring her beautiful eyes to a wintry green. “What do you know that you’re not telling me?” The threat was back in her voice.

“The rotten bastard.” He wanted to punch something. “Somehow Azazel knew we were here.” Wrath gathered inside him like an unstoppable storm, energy pouring off him in waves. Thankfully, the bastard had returned her. He would’ve ripped apart the very walls to get her back.

Caly didn’t even flinch at his anger. Instead, she raised her chin and met him glare for glare. “I knew it. You were going to leave me behind.” She knocked away his arms, and struggled to stand, her anger draining away her lethargy.

“Did he touch you? Threaten you in any way?” He stalked after her. He didn’t like the look she cast at him from beneath her lashes. “Why are you looking at me that way?”

“It was real.” Caly licked her lips.

The nervous gesture heated his body, redirecting his thoughts to their kiss. Ruman resisted the urge to touch her. The answers were too important to allow his emotions to interfere. He had to know what the bastard did to her. “Azazel. Did he touch you?”

Caly shook her head. “He appeared more concerned about me than anything else.”

Ruman settled his hands on her shoulders, battling the urge to search her for injuries. “Tell me exactly what he said. If he hurt you, I swear I’ll track him down and—”

“Stop it.” She knocked away his hands. “What the hell’s gotten into you? You’re acting like a lunatic. You’re just pissed you were cut out of the deal.”

The look of disgust she gave him didn’t deter him at all. “Deal?” The way he said the word must have warned her of his mood. She stepped back but then quickly halted her retreat.

“He said without protection, I would die. That he didn’t start the war and it was up to us to stop the demons.” She hesitated, obviously reluctant to share more with him. “He promised me a dagger.”

Ruman sucked in a sharp breath. “What?”

“He said I reminded him of someone. He mentioned that others like me were out there, warriors who need to fight if we want to survive.” Caly rubbed her brow, her face growing increasingly pale under the strain to remember and he relented.

“Sit, rest.” That she sat and didn’t protest unnerved him. He wanted to hold her to make sure she didn’t disappear on him again. She looked so aloof, he wondered if their kiss meant anything to her, if it changed anything between them. He felt her distancing herself from him, and he didn’t know how to stop it.

“Are you just going to stand there and watch? I won’t be able to rest with you looming over me.” The snark in her voice let him know his Caly had returned. When he crossed his arms and stared, she relented. “I swear if he appears again, you’ll be the first to know.”

It was the best he was going to get. He forced his muscles to unlock and reluctantly stepped away. Near the entrance, he gazed blankly at the wall. He pretended interest in the designs, counting to twenty before blatantly turning to watch her.

With her eyes closed, Caly looked like an angel, and he had to remind himself that she was not invincible. Someone wanted her dead, and he’d done a piss-poor job of protecting her so far.

The thought set his shoulders back, and he twisted to face the opening. He tensed as the sun fought to lighten the sky.

When he didn’t feel his skin tighten, the slow hardening of his body, he relaxed. The building must be on holy ground. It was the only thing that would delay his shift. As long as he stayed in the building, he’d remain mobile.

They needed a plan, a form of attack. A way he could keep her stubborn hide safe. He turned and studied Caly, wondering if there was anything he could do or say that would convince her to allow him to protect her. Dark lashes rested against her pale cheeks. Normally so strong and animated, seeing her unmoving made his heart skip a beat. She’d lost weight since they’d met.

Kneeling, he dug in his pack until he uncovered the food. He unwrapped one sandwich and walked toward her. “Eat.” He resisted the urge to tuck her hair behind her ear and nudged her instead, waiting ‘til she took the dark, circular bread with snippets of quail. She didn’t look happy, but he didn’t care as long as she did as told.

In silence, he searched the rest of the room to give her some privacy. Caly’s gaze landed on his back like a brand, and he welcomed any kind of attention, no matter how pathetic it made him.

The ruins had three intact walls. The partially crumbled fourth wall had allowed them entrance. Three steps led up to a solid altar, worn down by time and sand from the brutal wind. After twenty minutes, he’d inspected every seam and found nothing useful. No clue as to who lived here or who had built the structure.

The blocks were enormous, an engineering feat that had to rival the ancient Egyptian pyramids, yet there was no sign that humans had been here for years. A deep foreboding built like a fire in his gut. “Caly, do you recognize this structure?”

When she didn’t respond, Ruman turned. Caly stood in the middle of the room. She faced the altar, her palms flat on the surface. The solid top had split, yawning open like a giant maw.

“Booby-trap!” But it was too late.

So intent on what was before her, Caly didn’t even flinch at the sound of his voice. She reached down inside the opening. Even as he raced toward her, he knew it was too late.

Much too late for either of them. “Caly!”

Her body snapped taut, her muscles convulsed and she flew backwards as if struck. Ruman braced himself, but she slammed him with enough force they both sailed three feet before landing.

The impact stunned him, knocking the breath from his body. The sand and stone tore flesh from his back as his body scraped the floor’s surface.

Struggling for air, Ruman forced his body to roll over and scrambled toward Caly. Her back arched as another wave swept through her, her body fighting for her life. He gathered her in his arms, holding her still so she wouldn’t hurt herself.

The weapons created to save mankind were not designed to be wielded by humans. Those who were chosen didn’t have a choice in the matter once they touched the metal. The blade converted the wielder, changing them to be able to withstand the side effects. The downside was that if rejected, the human never woke.

He cursed his own stupidity. She’d told him about the dagger. He knew to watch for it, and had allowed it to happen anyway. Clasped tightly in her right hand was the pommel of a knife. The blade itself rested tight against the skin of her arm, streaking the exposed area an angry red and dark, bruising blue.

Infection.

Azazel’s promise had come true.

Caly got her blade. Hopefully, she’d live long enough to wield the damn thing.

Chapter Nineteen

T
he last thing Caly remembered was the searing pain that ripped through her body when she touched the knife, tearing her apart from the inside out. Molten lava burned through her veins. A tidal wave of heat worked its way up her hand and spread outward.