Unbalanced (7 page)

He shoved himself upright, glanced at the light and nodded. “Thank you, Willow.”

Then he stood up, as if his injuries didn’t affect him at all. Obviously, neither did the fact he wasn’t wearing a stitch of clothes. Towering over Eddy, he held out his hand to help her to her feet. “I will go now. I’m sorry to have . . .”

Eddy swallowed. She looked up at him as he fumbled for words, realized she was almost eye level with his . . .
oh crap!
She jerked her head to one side and stared at his hand for a moment. Shifted her eyes and blinked at the blue light, now hovering in the air not six inches from her face. What in the hell was going on?

Slowly, she looked back at Dax, placed her hand in his and, with a slight tug from him, rose to her feet. The light followed her. “What is that thing?” Tilting her head, she focused on the bit of fluff glowing in the air between them, and let out a whoosh of breath.

“Holy Moses.” It was a woman. A tiny, flickering fairy-like woman with gossamer wings and long blond hair. “It’s frickin’ Tinkerbell!” Eddy turned and stared at Dax. “That’s impossible.”

He shrugged. “So are garden gnomes armed with pitchforks. At least in your world. So am I, for that matter.”

Eddy snapped her gaze away from the flickering fairy and stared at Dax. “What do you mean, you’re impossible? Why? Who are you? What are you?”

Again, he shrugged. “I’m a mercenary, now. A hired soldier, if you will. However, before the Edenites found me, before they gave me this body, I was a demon. Cast out of Abyss, but a demon nonetheless.”

***

He knew she was bursting with questions, but she’d taken him inside her home, given him a pair of soft gray pants with a drawstring at the waist, and brewed some sort of hot, dark liquid that smelled much better than it tasted. She handed him a cup, then, as she left the room, she told him to sit.

He sat, despite the sense of urgency and the pain. The snake tattoo seemed to ripple against his skin, crawling across his thigh, over his groin and belly to the spot where the head rested above his human heart. He felt the heat from the demon’s fireshot beside the serpent’s head burning deeper with each breath he took. Exhaustion warred with the need to move, to begin the hunt. In spite of Willow’s gift of healing energy, he felt as if he could sleep for at least a month. Instead, he waited for the woman, for Eddy Marks. He sipped from the steaming cup while she opened and closed drawers in an adjoining room and mumbled unintelligible words to herself.

The four-legged creature stayed with him. Eddy called it “damned dog,” but she’d also said its name was Bumper and that it was female. The animal appeared to be intelligent, though Dax hadn’t figured out how to communicate with her yet. She was certainly odd-looking with her bullet-shaped head, powerful jaws and curly blond coat.

“Sorry to take so long. I had to hunt for the first aid kit.”

The woman carried a box filled with rolls of bandages and jars and tubes of what must be medicine. He wished his mind were clearer, but he was still growing used to this body, to the way the brain worked. It was so unlike his own. This mind had memories of things like bandages and dogs and the names for the various pieces of furniture he saw, but too much in his head felt foggy. Too much was still trapped in the thinking process of demonkind, of kill or be killed. Eat or be eaten.

All that was absolutely clear was the mission, and he was woefully behind on that.

Of course, he hadn’t expected to encounter a demon-powered gargoyle armed with fire just seconds after his arrival through the vortex. Nor had he expected the power of the demons already here. Eddy had no idea she had truly saved more than his life.

So much more was at stake. So many lives.

Her soft voice was laced with steel when it burst into his meandering thoughts. “First things first,” she said. “And don’t lie to me. I’m trusting you for some weird reason when I know damned well I should call the authorities. So tell me, who are you, really? Who did this to you? How’d you get this burn?”

Blinking, he raised his head. She knelt in front of him. Her short dark hair was tousled and her chocolaty brown eyes stared at him with concern and some other emotion he couldn’t quite identify. Thank goodness there was no sign of fear. He didn’t want her to fear him, though she’d be better off if she did.

He shook his head. He still couldn’t believe that blasted demon had gotten the drop on him. “I really am demonkind. From Abyss. The wound on my chest? It was the gargoyle. He surprised me. I wasn’t expecting him, especially armed with fire.”

She blinked and gave him a long, narrow-eyed stare. “Hookay. If you say so.” She took a damp cloth and wiped around the burn on his chest. The cool water felt good.

Her soft hands felt even better. Her touch seemed to spark what could only be genetic, instinctive memories to this body he inhabited. He felt as if his mind were clearing. Maybe this world would finally start to make sense.

She tilted her head and studied the burned and bloody wound. “That’s the second reference to a gargoyle I’ve heard tonight,” she said, looking at his chest, not his face. “They’re not generally part of the typical conversation around here.”

Shocked, he grabbed her wrist. She jerked her head around and stared at his fingers. He let go. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. Have you seen it? The gargoyle? Do you know where it is?”

She stared at him a moment, and then sprayed something on the wound that took away the pain. She covered it with a soft, flesh-colored bandage before she answered him. “No,” she said, shaking her head, concentrating on the bandage. “Not recently.”

Her short dark hair floated against the sharp line of her jaw. He fought a surprisingly powerful need to touch the shimmering strands. He’d never once run his fingers through a woman’s hair. Of course, he couldn’t remember having fingers. He’d never had any form beyond his demon self of mist and scales, sharp claws and sharper fangs.

She flattened all four corners of the bandage and looked up at him. He wished he were better at reading human expressions. Hers was a mystery to him.

“Last time I saw it,” she said, “it was perched on the corner of the library building where it belonged, but I heard it flew away. It’s made of stone and most definitely not alive, which means it shouldn’t be flying anywhere. What’s going on? And what are you, really? You can’t be serious about . . .” She glanced away, shook her head again and then touched the left side of his chest, just above the first puncture wound. “Turn around so I can take care of these cuts over your ribs.”

He turned and stared at the fireplace across the room. After a moment he focused on a beautiful carved stone owl, sitting on the brick hearth. The owl’s eyes seemed to watch him, but he sensed no life in the creature. It was better to concentrate on the bird than the woman.

Her gentle touch was almost worse than the pain from the injuries. It reminded him of things he wanted, things he’d never have.

He was, after all, still a demon. A fallen demon, but nonetheless, not even close to human. Not at all the man he appeared to be. This form was his for one short week.

His avatar.

Seven days he’d been given. Seven days to save the town of Evergreen and all its inhabitants. If he failed, if demonkind succeeded in this, their first major foray into Earth’s dimension, other towns could fall. Other worlds. All of Earth, all of Eden.

Seven days.

Impossible . . . and he’d already wasted one of them.

He would have laughed if he didn’t feel like turning around and heading back to Abyss—except Abyss was closed to him. With only the most preposterous of luck, he might end up in Eden, though he doubted that would happen no matter how he did on his mission. The promises had been vague, after all.

So why, he wondered, had he agreed to this stupid plan?

“I asked you, what’s going on? I’m assuming you know how my cheesy little Walmart garden gnome suddenly grew teeth and turned killer. Try the truth this time. With details that make sense.”

He jerked his head around and stared at her, understanding more of his new reality as each moment passed, as the memories and life of this body’s prior owner integrated with his demon soul.

Eddy sat back on her heels and her dark eyes flashed with as much frustrated anger as curiosity.

He glanced down at his side. There were clean white bandages over each of the wounds from the demon’s weapon. The big burn on his chest was cleaned and covered. The entire length of his tattoo pulsed with evil energy, but if he ignored that, he really did feel better.

Stronger.

He sensed Willow’s presence and finally spotted her sitting in among a collection of glass figurines on a small bookcase. Could demons enter glass? He wasn’t sure, but at least Willow would warn him in time. He caught the woman’s unwavering stare with his own. She waited more patiently than he deserved for his answer. “I always tell the truth,” he said. “The problem is, will you believe me?”

She nodded and stood up. “I’ll try.” She stalked out of the room. He heard water running. A moment later she returned, grabbed his cup and her own and left again. This time, when she handed him the warm mug of coffee, he knew what to expect.

He savored the aroma while she settled herself on the end of the couch, as far from him as she could get yet still have room to sit.

She was close enough for him to pick up the perfume from the soap she’d used to wash her hands, the warm essence of her skin, the scent that was all hers.

He shrugged off the unusual sensations her nearness gave him. Then he took a sip of his coffee, replacing Eddy’s scent with the rich aroma of the drink. He couldn’t seem to do anything about his powerful awareness of her. Of this body’s reaction to her presence, her scent, to every move she made.

He could try to ignore her, but he didn’t want to. No, not at all. It probably wouldn’t work, anyway.

She curled her bare feet under herself and leaned against the back of the couch, facing him. He turned and sat much the same way, facing her.

Bumper looked from one of them to the other, barked once and jumped up on the couch, filling the gap between them. She turned around a couple of times and lay down with a loud, contented sigh. Her fuzzy butt rested on Dax’s bare foot, her chin on the woman’s ankle.

“Bumper likes you.” She stroked the silly-looking beast’s head with her long, slim fingers. “If she didn’t approve, you wouldn’t be sitting here.”

Dax smiled, vaguely aware that it was an entirely new facial expression for him. Of course, everything he did now, everything he felt and said, was new. “Then I guess I’m very glad Bumper approves. Thank you for battling the demon, for taking care of my injuries. You saved my life.”

She stared at him for a long, steady moment, as if digesting his statement. There was still no fear in her.

She would be safer if she was afraid.

“You’re welcome,” she said. “Now please explain. Tell me about the garden gnome. What was it, really?”

He steepled his fingers in front of his face and rested his chin on the forefingers. Had the one who first owned this body found comfort in such a position? No matter. It was his body now, for however long he could keep it alive, and resting his chin this way pleased him. “The small statue was inhabited by a demon from the world of Abyss. They’ve broken through into Earth’s dimension, but the only form they have here is spirit—that dark, stinking mist you saw after you shattered the creature was the demon’s essence. They need an avatar, something made of the earth . . . ceramic, stone, metal. Nothing alive. The avatar gives form and shape, the demon provides the life.”

She nodded her head, slowly, as if digesting his words. “If I hadn’t seen it . . . Good lord . . . I still can’t believe I saw what I saw out there.” She glanced around the room. “Where’s that little fairy? The one you called Willow?”

“She’s actually a will-o’-the-wisp, not a fairy. She’s a protector of sorts. She gathers energy out of the air and shares it with me. Helps me understand this unfamiliar world, this body. Right now, she’s sitting on your bookcase. I think she likes being surrounded by all the little figurines on the top shelf.” He looked over his shoulder at Willow. Her light pulsed bright blue for a second. Then, once again, she disappeared among the tiny glass statuettes.

Eddy shook her head. She laughed, but it sounded forced, like she was strangling. Mostly, her voice was low, sort of soft and mellow. It fit her.

“I’m generally pretty pragmatic, unlike my father, who believes every wild story he hears. I can tell it’s going to be really hard for me to deal with all this. Just point to Willow as a reminder that the impossible is sometimes possible . . . you know, when I look at you like I think you’re lying.”

“I promise to do that.” He smiled over the edge of his cup and took a sip of the dark brew. She’d said it would perk him up, whatever that meant. He did feel more alert. He hoped it wasn’t because danger was lurking nearby. He still didn’t understand all this body’s instincts.

“You said you were a demon, but you look perfectly human. What exactly do you mean?”

“Exactly that. I’m a demon from the world of Abyss. It exists in a dimension apart from yours, but I was sent here by people from another world, one called Eden that’s in yet another dimension. The two worlds never touch, never interact. They exist, complete yet apart, entirely dependent on the balance that holds them apart as much as it connects them.”

“So what does that make Earth?”

He stared at his cup of coffee a moment, picturing the three worlds as he imagined them. “Earth is the fulcrum,” he said, raising his eyes to study her reaction. “Eden on the one side is a world of light filled with people who are inherently good. Abyss, on the other, is a world of darkness, a land of fire and ice populated by creatures who personify evil. Earth is in the center, holding them apart, keeping them in perpetual balance . . . or, at least, that’s the way it’s supposed to work. The way it’s always worked in the past.”