The First Book of Demons (The Book of Demons Saga) (20 page)

Chapter
Fifty Eight

Alexandra sat in the window seat of her bedroom at the Trevino’s home.  She sat and she watched.  Watched the neighbors take out the trash, or check the mail.  She watched as the boys next door rode their bikes up and down the street, laughing and racing each other.  She just sat and watched.  Day in and day out.  She watched as the same young woman in blue sweat pants jogged by at two in the afternoon everyday without fail.  Everyone thought she was crazy, so she might as well play the part.  In all honesty, she didn’t really care what everyone thought.  Sam, she did care about.  Because Sam knew, or he certainly should have. 

Wild animals
, they said; most likely bears.  It was all over the local news for the past week.  It even made a blip on the national level.  A small group of friends went camping and were viciously mauled by bears in their sleep.  Kat, David and Will were so mangled they could only identify them by their dental records.  Alexandra and Sam were found miles away, weeks later, unconscious and bloody.  The doctors reasoned the two friends hallucinated from a combination of their distress and dehydration.  Perhaps for Sam it was easier to believe that, but Alex knew the truth. 

There was a soft knock on her door.  Sam opened it a crack and stuck his head through
, the disfiguring scar on his face still raw and unhealed.  His eyes were dead, and it made Alex want to cry at the thought of what he must have gone through.  He refused to talk about it.  He would just say that it was all just a figment of their imaginations.  He tried to act like everything was normal, but his eyes betrayed him.

“Let’s go eat,” he said, “I want Chinese
.”

“Again?” Alex said, “We had Chinese twice this week.”

“Yes,” Sam said, “again.”

He shut the door behind him without giving Alex another chance
to protest.  He was meaner to her now.  There was a distance between them, and Alex didn’t know how to close it.  It pained her to think she would lose her best friend after everything else that had been lost. 

As they walked into the restaurant and followed the waitress to their usual spot
, Alex saw something that made her tune everything else in the room out.  Sam was talking to her as they settled into the worn cushions, but she wasn’t listening.  Her senses were honed in on an unsuspecting prey, and her eyes narrowed.  The very same guy that had caused her previous humiliation was now at the buffet, about to fill his plate with Orange Chicken.  Alexandra stood from the table and made her way over to him, picking up a fresh plate on the way.

“That’s my favorite,” she said with a smile, as she closed in on him, “be sure and save me some.”

“Sure,” the guy said, his eyes taking in the sight of Alex.  He stepped aside and offered the spatula to her. “Here you go first.”

“Thanks,” she
said as she moved in on the steaming tray of food.  “I’m Alexandra.”

Sam watched the enti
re interaction from their booth.  His best friend returned to the table, a folded piece of a napkin in her hand.  Her eyes were trained on the paper as she sat down.

“You got a number,” Sam said.

“Yeah,” she said as she tossed it onto the table. “But I don’t think I even want it now.”

#

With a heavy sigh, Alex stood from the window bench.  She cracked the window open a couple of inches, letting in the crisp night air.  Her eyes fell to the scar on her wrist that was finally scabbed over enough to begin healing.  Her fingers prodded the soft flesh around it.  It had been nearly a week since they had been back, but to Alex it felt like a year.  She thought this was what she wanted.  All she had wanted was to get back home, and away from those demons.  But now, things were different.  Home wasn’t home anymore.  She couldn’t forget everything that had happened, and she didn’t really want to.  She was a changed person, and she could never go back to what she was.  She felt empty inside.  Her thoughts turned to the always impeccable Demon Lord as she settled into bed for the night, hoping to get some sleep.  Hoping to have a dream.  A dream of that demon lord and that world so far away and out of her reach.  The world that had made her feel more alive than ever before in her life. 

She closed her eyes, focusing on the
memories of the handsome demon lord.  A heavy weight settled on her chest, pressing the breath from her lungs.  She remembered his touch, the warmth of his skin and the heat in his eyes as he watched her.  She missed him.  A blush heated her cheeks, and her body flushed hot.  She kicked the sheets off, and sat up in the bed.  The breath caught in Alexandra’s throat.

“Did you think I would let you escape me so easily, girl?” the corners of the Demon Lord
’s lips turned ever so slightly upward as his impeccable form stood in the glow of the moon. 

“You are mine, girl
,” Balthazar said, stepping closer to her bed.  “Wherever you go I will find you.”

THE END

Please visit
www.raqueldove.com
for more information about upcoming release dates.

Other books in this series:

Demons Amongst Us (Book Two of The Book of Demons Saga)

Demons Within (The Book of Demons Sage #3)

Other books by Raquel Dove:

The Blood Calls

The Blood Calls

By Raquel Dove

A Preview

Chapter One

Paris was disgusted with himself. But that didn’t stop him as he continued to watch from behind the cover of trees.  It was wrong.  It was worse than wrong. It was despicable.  But for all the power in his ageless bones, he couldn’t tear himself away. He had been on his way back to the city after closing a contract he had been chasing for nearly a month. He was planning on celebrating with the most expensive bottle of whiskey he could get his hands on and the company of two, or several, loose women, when the most peculiar aura caught his attention and drew him to a small hot spring in an unassuming park. 

Paris, the Demon Lord of the Northern territories, was not prone to interest in humans outside of business dealings, but on this chilly fall night he found himself utterly enthralled with the human woman he was watching, and for the life of him he couldn’t figure out why. Her heartbeat was easily distinguishable from the chirp of the crickets that called out in the forest surrounding the bubbling hot spring.  It was a steady, healthy beat, far too relaxed for the girl’s current state of security. 

Paris watched as her slender fingers reached for the zipper of her jean shorts, her nose planted firmly in a dog-eared book with a tattered black cover. She fumbled a little, not willing to pull away from the book, before finally catching the zipper and juggling the jeans down her slender hips with her one free hand. She shivered and finally closed the book, suddenly in a hurry to undress as she removed her thick grey sweater.

Paris
felt the pressure in his pants grow as she reached back to take her hair down, giving him a glorious view of her outstretched body.  Nothing was left to his imagination, save for the things he wanted to do with said body. 

He could never have her
. He knew that.  He should never even want her.  Yet, at that very moment he found himself lusting after her with every fiber of his being.  His hand reached for the steadily increasing lump in his pants, adjusting himself to accommodate the increase in size.  The simple touch brought a measure of frictional pleasure and he found his hand lingering. He paused, holding in a breath as the girl looked around her, her eyes narrowing into the darkness, as if she finally sensed the danger lurking in the night all around her.

The thick muscles of his jaw shifted as he clenched his teeth in an effort to pull himself away.  Any interest in a human should be strictly business. A demon of his stature more than knew better.  It had been ingrained in his very being for the nearly three thousand years of his life.  But here he was.  Watching this human girl with a massive hard on and a desire to do nothing short of pin her beneath him and ravage her conveniently naked body.  He would allow himself one more moment to assess what it was about this girl that had him behaving in such a disgraceful manner, and then he would force himself to leave. 

The woman was young, in her early twenties.  She had an intoxicating scent that floated about her, and served to further draw Paris’ interest.  Humans generally had a rank natural scent about them.  He had never come upon one that smelled remotely bearable, much less pleasant.

Paris could read her life’s story just by feeling her aura.  It was, at its core, the essence of the human spirit.  It carried with it all the life experiences and influences a human had ever had. It also betrayed their deepest secrets and most fervent desires, which often came in handy for Paris.  But this aura was giving him quite a bit of difficulty. It seemed to be cloaked, allowing only a sliver of intoxicating desire to escape and affect Paris, hiding its true nature

He lifted his slender nose to catch the wind as it picked up, whipping around the heavily wooded area, and carrying her scent closer to him. It swirled around him, taunting him.  The subtle notes of amber that tinted her scent only added to the mystery behind it.

The
woman turned, tiptoeing quickly to the edge of the small pond, holding her chest to keep her breasts from bouncing.  Paris continued to watch, despite himself, as the delicate curve of her bottom bounced with her every step.  His entire body tensed, the heat pooling painfully in his groin.  His hand reached for his lap, once again trying to adjust himself to a more bearable position.  He wanted this creature.  He wasn’t sure why, he had never felt such an urge towards a human before.  There was just something about her.

She was single, or at the very least had not been touched by a male for quite some time.  There was a distinct lack of another’s scent mingled with hers that typically came from humans copulating
. 

Paris felt absolutely deplorable, but he couldn’t stop himself. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from her. He had to know more about her.  If he stayed any longer, if he was caught, he would face certain death. Despite what many would believe, demons did in fact posses a conscience, it was just easier for them to suppress. Most of his kind did so on a regular basis. Paris was well versed in the practice.

Paris was ripped back to reality by the pungent smell of another human approaching.  He inhaled the putrid scent deeply, learning all he could, reading it with the consummate skill of a Demon Lord.  It didn’t take him long to realize that his night of forbidden pleasures had just come to a screeching halt, leaving him with an impossible decision to make.  Save the girl from the certain danger coming her way, or do what he knew in his demonic heart was right and leave the human to her own devices.

Chapter Two

Zoe relaxed into the hot water, her mind occupied by the book she had to force herself to put down. She had saved for two weeks, surviving on rations of instant noodles to afford the tattered second hand copy. So far, it was not disappointing. But she had to take a break and bathe. It was getting late, and she needed to get home.

She was thankful to have found this place. It wasn’t entirely safe. She knew that. But she was a good fighter if pushed into a corner, and she carried a palm-sized pocketknife close by her in case of emergencies. She had been coming here twice a week for months, and had never seen another soul in all that time. 

This night felt different from the moment she arrived, but she did her best to brush the feeling off. She dunked her head under the water to wet her hair, coming up with a gasping breath. Zoe turned around, only her head above water as she scoped the clustered tree line that surrounded the hot spring. Her heart picked up an extra beat or two. She couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. Zoe pushed aside her instincts, and went about her routine, grabbing a single ratted bar of soap from her bag. It had a heavy industrial cleaner smell to it, and Zoe wasn’t entirely sure it was meant for human skin, but it was all she had. She tried to use it sparingly and only where necessary. She dug to the bottom of her bag and found her knife, tucking it under the flap of her bag, within close reach.

She pushed away from the side, melting back against the worn-smooth boulders just beneath the water’s surface. She lolled her head back onto a protruding rock, and closed her eyes. She was going to try and enjoy this as much as possible. She wouldn’t get another hot bath for a while. The hot water felt amazing. She tried to sear the heat in her mind, as if the memory of it would keep her warm later tonight.

She rubbed the soap in her hands, frothing up a light lather and began to wash her body. She rubbed the bobbing mounds of flesh that were teasing the surface of the water.  Her fingertips found a small round nipple and she unconsciously rolled the fleshy nub between her fingers, a sigh escaping her lips.  Her other hand trailed down her stomach, between her thighs. 

She let her thoughts wander as she explored her own body, her motions enthusiastic, as if she would discover something new, something she had never found before in all her previous explorations.  A moan echoed into the darkness, and Zoe was too far-gone in pleasure to care if anyone heard her.  It had been so long since she had felt the touch of a man that she was beginning to question her own memories.

She released a heavy sigh as her hand stopped the gentle tick that left a rhythmic ripple in the water around her. She couldn’t continue. Her past was something she never liked to think about, especially when it crept up on her like that, in the middle of more pleasurable pursuits. She slid her eyes open and her heart stopped. A greasy, pepper haired man in a tattered pair of brown Capri pants and a dirt stained tan shirt was looking down at her with a malicious intent ingrained in his heavy brow.

“Need some help?” he said with a coarse voice.  He scratched at his stubbly chin with dirty fingers as a smile cracked his lips. The man took a cautious step closer.

“Get away from me,” Zoe said, her voice coming out softer and far more frightened than she wanted it to. Her eyes darted to the knife under her bag. The water slowed her movements and the man lurched toward the knife, attempting to intercept her. But he stopped. Or rather, he was stopped. Zoe’s mind tried to adjust to the sudden appearance of another man, one she was sure she didn’t see approach.

For a brief moment, he stood there, in proud and stark contrast to the transient.  His grey pinstripe suit was tailored impeccably to his slender physique. His black hair was styled and framed his clean-shaven face in a masculine, distinguished sort of way. He had a bored look about him, accented by brooding, dark grey eyes. 

They flicked down at Zoe for just a moment, and she could see they were different. Her brain had only a moment to register that they weren’t quite human before they shifted back onto her attacker.  A clawed hand was clutched around his throat. The man struggled, lashing out.

Zoe snatched up her knife and hopped out of the water. Time began to move slower than her mind was working. Her movements were fluid, without even a thought between them. She clicked the blade open. Stabbed the man in the heart. He spasmed for a short moment, then went limp.

“Thank you,” Zoe said, her breathing becoming labored as her adrenaline settled. She stepped back as her savior let the lifeless body crumple to the ground. His ears were delicately pointed, and matched the tips of his blood-soaked claws.

“Do you not fear me?” he said
, a perfectly groomed black brow arched in disbelief.  He took a predatory step towards her. Her pulse began to rise. But then he stopped.

He stared back at her, his emotions unreadable, but in his eyes she could see a conflict raging.  There was heat in his stare and it shuddered down her spine, settling between her legs.  She clenched her thighs, trying to suppress the desire that had suddenly taken her.  She had never felt such an intense want before. But then he disappeared, just as fast as he had come.  Zoe blinked, not entirely sure that he had ever even stood there.