Defying Instinct (Demon Instinct Series) Page 14

  “What else do I need to know?”

  “Telepathing to different castes at the same time. It might be easy for you, now that you’ve found control. But it’s something we could…go test.”

  I could telepath with Benn and demons at the same time, and everyone could hear my telepaths before. Wasn’t that the same as different castes? But Rowan didn’t know I could do that, and I got the impression the training was only an excuse to go.

  “Where?”

  “Faction,” he said, and my eyes lit up. “I’ve…arranged for a friend of mine to be your guard, if you would like to go.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Is it safe...for me?”

  “Decidedly not,” Rowan smirked. “But I vow to your safety.”

  “When did you talk to your friend about it?”

  “After our first conversation.”

  “But,” I twisted the hem of his sweater around my fingers, “why?”

  “You’ve been too sheltered from our world. Our Scion should know what is out there.” Rowan cleared his throat. “Faction is…quite a sight to see. I suspect you’re curiosity could use some sating.”

  He was so right. I’d been caging my curiosity for too many days. It wasn’t the walls that were suffocating me. It was the way the lack of answers was making me mentally come apart at the seams. The information he’d told me earlier only made me crave more.

  How…thoughtful of you. Thank you.

  “You’re welcome,” he said, swiping my tea from the coffee table. “So, you’re in?”

  “Definitely.”

  “All right,” he took a loud slurp from my mug, then sat it on the table again. “Take my hand.”

  I jerked. “Now?”

  “You said you needed to get out for a while.”

  “What about…?”

  “Cyrus knows, he’ll tell Grayson and Bennett. We’re all set.”

  I looked at his outstretched hand, then down at the mug of tea we’d sort of shared that made some new curl of feeling I’d never felt before make my legs unsteady.

  It had been four days, and finally I had to make a decision. I could refuse, and be who I used to be, or I could take his hand and stop pointlessly treading water. Without any further hesitation, I slid my hand into Rowan’s.

  ZING!

  Electricity tingled up my arm, the heat of his hand so scorching, it felt like I was on fire. My mouth fell open at the sensation. Skin to skin. Incredible. I had no idea before that moment how starved for touch I was.

  “Hold on tight,” he leaned in and whispered. Grasping hands in the dark, the closeness felt extremely intimate. It kicked my pulse up and stole my breath.

  Before I could process my reaction to him, we jumped.

  CHAPTER 19

  I didn’t think jumping was the term they should use for their teleportation. It was more like stepping into a tornado, squeezing your eyes shut, and hoping like hell you didn’t lose a body part in the process of getting wherever you were going.

  “Curiosity abated,” I muttered when the spinning stopped. The strange feeling only lasted a few seconds. Once my stomach rejoined my body, I was able to take in the sight of where the Hammer had jumped me.

  Faction was like a hippy commune. Daylight, warm, and in full bloom here, wherever we were, I knew it couldn’t be anywhere near my hometown.

  Where were we? Or, were we still even Up Above? I looked up at a big, yellow sun that looked the same as the one I knew. Not underground then.

  The air smelled crisp and sweet like honeysuckle and earth. Buildings made of red tinted clay contrasted with lush green fields, a cloudless sky, and colorfully clothed creatures, none of which looked human.

  Unglamoured demons were intermixed with glamoured ones. I recognized male glamoured Razers by their striking cobalt blue eyes and the ridge in the middle of their foreheads, but not many of the others. Big, hulking males, too huge to be real. Tempter females with silver eyes drawing male attention. And several that looked like monsters.

  When Rowan’s index finger lifted my chin, I realized I had been gawking.

  ZingZingZing, wherever he touched me. My skin hummed wherever he touched me, even after he pulled away.

  My body reacted on a primitive level, making me extremely aware of every skin to skin contact with him. Before, I could have gone weeks. Months. Or longer without touch of any kind. I’d never known I’d been missing out on anything. Never knew it was something I needed.

  A form emerged from a crowd of similar looking monsters, heading right for us.

  The creature crossing the field looked me up and down, appraising my appearance with big, alien eyes. At first, I was uneasy with the blatant attention from a being that looked utterly grotesque. But as he drew closer, and Rowan didn’t grow agitated, I realized this male was the one we’d come to meet.

  He was going to be my protector while I was here. Rowan wouldn’t put me in danger. He’d vowed I’d be safe. So I tucked away my panic, and the unease about my looks being evaluated so openly. I leaned into Rowan’s shoulder.

  “Meet Connell,” Rowan growled, I thought in disapproval, so I pulled away from his shoulder before he said, “a full-caste Mischief demon.”

  Connell, now standing only a few feet away, was a sight to see. Unglamoured, Mischief demons apparently were…odd. But that wasn’t the right word at all.

  “You smell like lemon, Rowe,” the demon said as I tried to make sense of what I was looking at.

  “She poured tea over my head.”

  The demon threw his head back, shaking with mirth. “Well really, who hasn’t wanted to do that?”

  Bright orange hair flamed on the top of his head, eyebrows, eyelashes, and from the stubble on his chin. His shape was human-like with all the expected parts, but he hardly looked human.

  His eyes had no color whatsoever. I was afraid to look too closely, because the lack of color suggested they were see-through, like glass, and I didn’t want to see what was on the other side.

  His body was lean and spindly with arms and legs almost twice as long as a human’s, and oddly angled, long, bony fingers. He could have been seven feet tall, but it was hard to tell because he hunched, slender shoulders angled down.

  “Like what you see, beauty?”

  Startled, I instinctively looked up to the demon’s eyes, and was relieved not to see blood and brains on the other side. All that lay beyond the glass-like orbs were veins. Weird. Mesmerizing, really. But not gross.

  “I’ve never seen an unglamoured Mischief demon before.”

  He turned, as if to give me a more thorough view, and I saw the wings sprouting from his back. If bats and lizards mated, this would be what their offspring’s wings would look like. They were almost fragile looking, some parts like tissue paper with veins threading through them. They were very cool.

  Do they function? I knew the question was inappropriate and wished I could take it back, but I’d telepathed already.

  My curiosity was insatiable.

  Yet the look of shock on Connell’s face wasn’t because of my tactless question. Wide-eyed, he gaped at Rowan for a few seconds before turning his attention back to me, studying my face. Recognition struck his expression as he gazed into my eyes.

  A shaky whisper, “you’re Scion.”

  “That’s what they tell me.”

  Connell blinked, his giant, glass pupils dilating each time. He kneeled in the dirt and bowed, somewhat awkwardly considering his lanky build.

  I threw my hands up. “Come on, not you too. I already get all that allegiance junk from Cyrus.”

  Connell raised his head, and only then did I see he’d glamoured himself. Now his orange hair was more reddish, a far more human-like color. His body filled out so he wasn’t so lanky, and his wings were gone. Those bizarre eyes were normal now too, blue and…normal.

  If I hadn’t seen him before, I’d consider his form unquestionably attractive. But I was more concerned about why he’d hidden himself than classi
fying his looks.

  “Cyrus? Grayson’s aide?” he asked Rowan, avoiding looking at me. The impression I got wasn’t what I expected—I think he felt ashamed.

  “Yes. We’ve been tasked with protecting the Scion,” Rowan offered, then added something I hadn’t known. “Actually, Grayson was. And I owed him a favor.”

  “You should have told…”

  “I couldn’t, and you know it,” Rowan said. He sounded amused.

  I whistled, angry that they were ignoring me and talking literally around me like I wasn’t there. Pride I hadn’t had days ago bristled.

  “Why won’t you look at me now?” I asked Connell, leaning into his line of sight, offended accusation heavy in the question.

  Then I felt guilty, because my tone made the demon bow shakily, sharply again.

  How do I fix this? I asked Rowan. Only Rowan. All it took was once, and I could control it. Seemed preposterously easy, but I wasn’t going to over think this time. I’d take good fortune if I could get it.

  I didn’t know he was standing so close behind me, so when Rowan whispered into my ear, goosebumps broke out along my arms and my ears and neck heated.

  “Compliment his wings.”

  Shaking off the sensations Rowan’s words in my ear had created, I focused all my attention on Connell. Compliment his wings? Cool. I could do that and didn’t even have to fake it.

  “Can I ask you a favor, Connell?”

  The Mischief demon bowed lower, as if that were possible, and I tried not to roll my eyes for the fifth time.

  “Will you take me on a flight?” I hoped he wasn’t insulted by the idea, but my interest was apparent in my voice. The more I considered it, the more I wanted it. Flying in the arms of a male. What female in her right mind wouldn’t want that?

  “I don’t think—” Rowan began, but I waved him off.

  “I can’t fly with glamour.” The mumble came so softly, I nearly missed it.

  “Then quit it. I spent twenty years hidden behind glamour I had no control over. I say, if you have the choice, be who you are.”

  My sincerity must have shined through because as he rose his head from his bow, then stood, the glamour slowly shimmered away. Connell was back to his orange, weird-eyed, gangly, winged self.

  “Mischief demons aren’t allowed to be unglamoured around Royalty,” Rowan explained.

  Shaking my head, then stepping closer to Connell, I huffed, “Well really, that’s just stupid.”

  The Mischief demon tried to hide his snicker. I couldn’t help but glare at him.

  “I apologize. I’m not sure how you wish me to be.”

  Be Connell, I told him. The full-caste demon smiled. He had no teeth.

  A strange moment passed, and I got the distinct impression I was being sized up for a second time, only this time it had nothing to do with my looks.

  “Are you comfortable holding onto me?”

  “Wow, thanks for asking. When I first met him,” I thrust a thumb behind me where Rowan still stood, “he tossed me over his shoulder like a caveman. I mean, who does that?”

  Connell looked over my head at Rowan, but I didn’t turn to see whatever expression was on the Hammer’s face—though I was sure it was a glower. I could feel waves of aggression, possession, alpha male protectiveness seething from his direction.

  When Connell raised one of his bright orange eyebrows, I was so glad I wasn’t projecting anymore because I was so frustratingly curious about Rowan’s reaction and Connell’s interpretation of it, I would have been assured to project it before.

  Stepping up to Connell’s side, I threw my arms around his lanky neck—more skin to skin, but it didn’t affect me like Rowan’s touch had—and grabbed my wrists. My willingness to touch him without hesitation startled him. Made me wonder, and dread to find out how Mischief demons were normally treated.

  After a moment’s hesitation, the demon put one, impossibly long arm around my waist, and without any warning, with an involuntary yelp from me, we were airborne.

  I think I heard Rowan say something, but the sound of his voice—or roar, I couldn’t tell—was washed away by a rush of wind.

  It wasn’t a smooth ride. And I had to be vigilant about keeping my skirt tucked between my knees so I didn’t flash my panties. The herky jerky movements of flapping wings took me awhile to get used to, but Connell held onto my waist so tightly, I knew I was safe. I was surprised his fragile looking wings could support my extra weight, but he dipped and dove with ease, as if there weren’t a person clinging to him.

  His bat-lizard wings were bigger than I first thought. At full-span, they were impressive. And obviously powerful.

  He circled houses and waved to a group of unglamoured children playing kickball in a park. I’d never seen demon children before, especially not red, waxy-skinned ones with tiny black horns and bright, piranha-teeth smiles. I saw what had to be Mischief demon kids playing with them too. And I think I recognized a few Razer females, though it was hard to tell.

  After a minute of hovering, Connell flew us away, though I could have watched those children play all day. As we skidded along the surface of a pond, my feet brushed the water, soaking my rabbit fur socks and spraying cool drops across my face.

  Connell’s shoulders tensed. But when I continued to hold on, continued to grin like the big, excited geek I was, he said nothing. The next time, when he skimmed along a field of wild flowers, some got caught in my hair and on my clothes and he kept right on going without tensing at all.

  Each time he dove, I gasped and squealed and tightened my grip around his neck. It seemed to encourage him. By the time we landed, Connell was showing off, and I was giggling uncontrollably, the state of my skirt forgotten.

  “That. Was. Awesome!” I pouted, “do we have to stop?”

  Connell smiled a big, toothless smile, then said, like he thought it was hilarious, “Rowe’s having a conniption.”

  “How do you know?” I looked around like Rowan would be stalking up behind me. When he wasn’t there, I had to wonder if Connell and Rowan could telepath.

  “Good,” the Mischief demon beamed with pride. “I was afraid you felt the rock he threw. Or, rocks, technically. But he only got me once.”

  He turned, and the gash in his shoulder was already healing, stitching together before my eyes.

  I gaped, putting my hand inches from the wound but not touching it in case it still hurt.

  “What’d he do that for?”

  “I knew he didn’t approve.” Connell tilted his head, then righted it. The gesture looked like the equivalent of a shrug to me.

  “That hypocrite. He’s all alpha, protective male, then he throws rocks at us? We could have been seriously hurt.”

  Connell smiled, and it made me smile.

  But I know you’d never let me fall.

  The demon blushed orange until his cheeks matched his hair.

  When he recovered from the bright blush, Connell rambled nervously. “Funny the things you choose to telepath. Are you aware your internal voice has no hesitation? It’s sure, as if you’ve been Scion your entire life.”

  Completely confused, I looked up at him, I haven’t.

  “No, but perhaps you were meant to be.”

  I don’t believe in that kind of thing.

  He cocked an orange eyebrow. “And you think your belief in it makes any difference?”

  I opened my mouth, but then thought about what he was saying. Not the destiny thing, but what he was saying about me. I wondered if other demons would see me as a good Scion, not as a half-caste who had no business with the title.

  “Come,” he put his arm out in a formal way, and I batted it away playfully. When I came up beside him, standing close enough for our shoulders to touch—or technically my shoulder to touch his knobby elbow since he was much taller than me—he smiled that smile again that I was quickly becoming a sucker for.

  “Are we walking?” I asked, disappointed.

  “Rowan is bel
ow,” Connell pointed over the ledge of the building. “And I don’t fancy getting rocked in the noggin on our way down.”

  I laughed, charmed by the Mischief demon as I realized what he said, the way he said it, was Connell being Connell. I felt victorious.

  “May I speak plainly?” he asked as we descended a small but sturdy stairwell on the outside of the building.

  “I wish you would. I have no intention of getting used to these Royaly preconceptions everyone seems to have.”

  Connell chuckled warmly. “You’re drenched in Rowe’s scent.”

  I shrugged a shoulder. “I’m wearing his sweater.”

  “Uh huh.”

  My eyes grew wide at his accusation, but I was also amused. This was friendly teasing. When an hour ago he was afraid to look at me.

  I saw the scowl on Rowan’s face when Connell grabbed me around the waist with both hands to help me down from the stairs that ended a few feet off the ground. I didn’t need to be experienced with male testosterone poisoning to know what it meant.

  Touch him and I’ll have him take me home instead of you.

  Rowan’s eyes slit, and Connell shook with his amusement. I deliberately let them both hear me, making an effort to test telepathing with different castes at the same time. Seemed easy enough.

  If today proved anything, it was that Rowan was definitely right. I needed to be able to telepath with confidence. If for no other reason, demons seemed more comfortable with me when I did.

  “I may wish to keep you, beauty. You would be an entertaining companion,” he smiled, and I smiled. “And a fun conquest.”

  “Watch yourself, Connell.”

  The growl in Rowan’s chest was so animal, I wondered if Hammer demons were responsible for werewolf stories. Though Rowan was more feline than canine. Agile, and almost appearing leisurely though his predatory instincts were always on high alert. That screamed cat to me.

  “Alas,” Connell patted my arm. “Seems as though you’re spoken for.”

  He’s required to act protective. It’s his job. This time, my telepath was for Connell alone. As I saw Rowan’s lack of a reaction, I knew I’d succeeded.

  “Uh huh,” Connell repeated his pointed, but subtle suggestion from before, and I couldn’t help but laugh. Which irritated Rowan further.