Thursday, October 17, 2013

Demonic Revenge - Part 8 #BadGirl #RomFantasy

Demonic Revenge continues:

Vasya turned to Cindy, and his expression gentled. He touched her cheek and leaned in to kiss her forehead. “We will continue this,” he murmured softly, and smiled down at her.

Rémy’s low growl was barely discernible, but clearly heard by the prince. He winked at Cindy, then stepped back.

“Aimé, I would like your help with a small project.”

Startled, Aimé nodded.

“Do we need to post a guard at Cindy’s door?” Rémy asked, his voice betraying the seething anger that was still bubbling beneath his outward calm.

Matéo spoke his name quietly, warning implicit, and the younger des Quatre-Frères gave a curt nod of understanding.

“Try to get some rest, bella,” Vasya suggested after the brothers had filed into the next room. At her hesitant nod, he paused and smiled. “All will be well again soon, cara mia,” he promised.

* * * * *

“I will need Acacia and Asafoetida,” Vasya told Aimé once they were all seated. Rémy had returned to his work on the sword, and it didn’t escape the ancient’s notice that he handled the rapier with near reverence as he restored the blade to working order. He was a gifted weapons master.

“Acacia for protection and psychic powers, and Asafoetida for exorcism?” Aimé questioned.

“Asafoetida is also used as protection, as well as exorcism and purification,” Vasya informed him, watching as the meaning of his request was understood.

“You intend to take Cindy with us?” Matéo voiced the question that wasn’t really a question at all.

“If we expect to save her, and get out alive ourselves, we need her to cast the incantation to trap the demon,” Vasya replied calmly.

Uneasiness settled over the room like a mantle, and Vasya braced for a potential rebellion from the des Quatre-Frères. Aimé rose and nodded. “I’ll find what you need.”

Grazie,” Vasya said as he rose from his chair. “I need fresh herbs, but only in a small amount.”

Aimé nodded his understanding, and left the room.

Matéo eyed him closely for several moments, and Vasya withheld a scrutiny that would have made most look away.

“Why now?”

Vasya considered ignoring the query, then chose to answer. “Change is coming, even in the hallowed history of Venice. We need unity among the European Clans again,” he stated. “My brother, half-brother,” he corrected, “wants to take control of things he does not understand. Were it up to me, I would still be walking the plains of Siberia.”

“Will you lead,” Matéo asked. “Or simply unite the Clans again?”

“If I am to unite them, I must be prepared to lead them into a changing world,” Vasya said with a heavy sigh. “A world I barely recognize myself.”

“Should you need us, Clan des Quatre-Frères will stand with you, Viscount Petrova.”

Vasya held the Alpha’s steady gaze, then bowed to him. “My gratitude to you, Lord Alpha,” he said formally.

* * * * *

Morning came much too quickly, and when Cindy entered the adjoining room of the suite she was supposed to share with her friend, the four powerful males all rose. Vasya stepped toward her first, and lifted her hand to kiss it.

“Let us hope this days ends well, bella mia,” he murmured. “So we can continue to get to know each other better.”

Cindy saw Rémy’s scowl from the corner of her eye, but he said nothing. Vasya drew her attention back to him when he pulled a pendant from the pocket of his dark silk shirt. It hung on a long silver chain, and looked like a round locket. As he placed it around her neck, he explained.

“The incantation I taught you has been captured here,” he told her. “If you falter, it will help you remember, to hear the words as I have spoken them to you.”

She nodded and hugged him tight. Looking past him, she met the serious gazes of each of the brothers, lingering longest on Rémy, who managed to appear both fierce and lost.

“Where are we going to do this?” Matéo asked.

“There is a garden not far from here, just outside the hallowed grounds of the church we visited when gathering what was needed to fight the demon. It is remote and will serve us well,” Vasya decreed.

“Young one,” he addressed Rémy, who glared at him. “The Aducător de moarte, if you will?”

Rémy handed over the sword, once again a weapon of rare beauty. The silvery steel gleamed in the light, the runes appearing to shift in the heavy metal. Vasya tested the blade to find it honed to a sharp, lethal edge. “You have done your work well,” he said. “Shall we?” He indicated the door.

A short while after leaving the hotel, they stood in a small circle, Cindy in the middle, surrounded by the males. Vasya took out the wicked looking dagger, sliced it across his forearm, and turned to allow his blood to anoint the ground where they stood.

“Always blood,” Cindy muttered.

Vasya actually smiled at her. “Blood is life. Life is power.” Before she could reply, he began to speak the ancient words of magic...

* * * * *

Denysé shuddered when the suffocating heat was suddenly leeched from the room. She scrambled to her feet and backed up a couple of paces, until she hit the wall and for a moment was certain it wanted to suck her into itself. The heat burned, and she started to look around, wondering where he’d appear from this time.

“Well show yourself, Asshole,” she shouted, after a few minutes. The cell was breathing, she felt the air currents. It made her skin crawl with apprehension, and terror.

A claw-like nail skittered up her spine and she whirled around. He was once again in black, looking deceptively human.

“They are coming for you,” he informed her.

She stood facing him, hands clenching into fists. “Then I guess I’ll be leaving soon,” she snapped. It was bravado and they both knew it. Azazel laughed, his mirth seemingly genuine.

“You might have been amusing if you hadn’t been laying with dogs,” he noted.

“Fuck you!”

He took a step toward her, menace pouring off him as his urbane exterior gave way to his true form. She was dead, and she knew it.

Closing her eyes, she waited, and the roar that ripped through the air was picked up and echoed over and over, shaking the ground she stood on. When she dared to open her eyes, they were no longer in the cell, she was standing between two lesser demons, and Azazel was leering down at her. A flick of his hand was all it took, and the demons on either side of her chained her to the wall. Azazel turned his back and waited, the rising screams reaching a deafening crescendo before sudden silence enveloped them.

Stepping out of thin air, the ancient and powerful wolf prince appeared first, and her breath left her when she saw who was with him. A pale and freaked out Cindy, and behind her, three of the des Quatre Frères. The Alpha, the shaman, and her beloved Rémy. Hope screamed to life inside her, and terror ran on its heels.

* * * * *

“We meet again, Hell-spawn,” Vasya said, moving to stand directly in front of the towering demon. “You have something of mine, I want it back!”

Azazel’s laughter boomed, and he gestured for the two demons on either side of his prisoner to attack.

Vasya drew the sword, and the brothers fanned out at his back. Cindy moved to one side, and the moment the demons attacked, she began to do what she’d been instructed to do.

Snarls of rage filled the room as Matéo and Aimé and Rémy shifted and attacked in their wolf form. Howls and barks of rage were unnerving. Cindy tried to block out the battle as it raged so short a distance away from her, and began to chant the incantation. She was having trouble remembering the Romanian spell. Shaking she held the locket in both hands and concentrated, starting again. In her mind, she heard Vasya’s voice, as though it whispered from inside the locket, and she spoke the words as she had the previous day, reciting exactly what he taught her. Once it had begun, she felt tingles of power, like small jolts of electricity running along her nerve endings. She pulled the dagger and ran it across her palm, wincing at the pain, but  determined to do as she’d been instructed.

Vasya let the des Quatre-Fréres take care of the two lesser demons, and he continued his assault on Azazel. Blow after blow rained down on the demon as he sliced into demonic flesh, blood running in rivulets along the sticky blade of the sword. Rémy had used the sacred holy water generously, and each time the blade made contact with the demon, it cut and burned that much deeper. The sword hummed in his grip, but he knew the power it should have was not present. Azazel found a weakness and he sent the prince sprawling with a crushing backhanded blow. Dazed, Vasya rolled away, his grip on the weapon still firm. Above the din, he heard Cindy reciting the incantation for the second time, and knew the circle had been drawn.

“Now!” he ordered, and the brothers began to circle the demon, pushing him closer to the circle that would allow them to destroy him. The three huge black wolves were deadly, narrowing the distance quickly, working swiftly to keep Azazel off balance. Vasya moved so fast he was a blur when the demon lord captured the smallest of the wolves and began to choke the life from him. The lethal blade sliced off the hand that held Aimé and the demon roared to shake the entire area. As he fell, Aimé shifted back to human form, revulsion filling his expression as he threw off the limb that moments before had almost killed him.

Azazel turned on the other two des Quatre-Frères, but Rémy was already falling back to make a full on attack. Vasya measured the distance and decided to take a risk. He dropped the sword, and shifted. For the first time, his wolf form was seen by everyone. He was almost as tall in his natural form as he was in his human body, his coat deepest brown, with silver markings around onyx eyes. He launched at the demon and threw him back into the circle as Cindy jumped clear. Vasya tore into the demon’s throat, blood spraying from the gaping wound he’d created.

Azazel’s rage erupted, and he flung the prince aside, regaining his footing, then he began to stalk in for the kill. Rémy leaped, his wolf form shifting even as he landed near the sword and lifted it. He finished the graceful spin, throwing every ounce of strength he had into the sweeping arc of the sword as he severed the demon’s head from his body. The body fell back into the circle, and the sword screamed with power as the body of Azazel exploded into flames...

Part Nine tomorrow at:

Can't get enough? Meet the Brothers des Quatre-Frères HERE:

Book One: Hour of the Wolf (Matéo)

Book Two: Thrown to the Wolves (Sébastien)

Book Three: Cry Wolf (Aimé)

Book Four: Wolf at the Door (Rémy)
Coming Soon

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