Diana Rowland - Fury of the Demon

The ache blossomed to agony with the vehemence in his tone. All perspective on the Ryan-Szerain quandary evaporated, and I stood. “Fuck you, Ryan,” I said to his back, using my pain to fuel my anger. “Fuck you and your values . You think I’m some kind of slut now?” I took a shaking breath. “In the past year and a half, I’ve slept with exactly two men—Rhyzkahl and Mzatal. TWO,” I repeated loudly. “And I’ve loved two: you and Mzatal. It’s not like I fucked my way through the demon realm or jumped straight into Mzatal’s bed! I was trying to tell you that I still had— have —you in my heart, that there was room for you there in whatever way you’re willing to have me.” I realized I was crying, realized that the pain was real and that this was fucked. “I went through HELL, and Mzatal put me back together,” I continued, voice rising to a shout, “and I don’t need you or anyone else judging me for the relationship that followed.”

I didn’t wait to hear what he came up with next. I turned, fled up the stairs and to my room, pursued by a stream of loud and mostly unintelligible curses. Channeling all the fury and pain that boiled through me, I slammed my door, threw myself on the bed and sobbed like a heartbroken teenager.

A few minutes later I heard a knock on the door. I sat up, snarled, “Go away, Ryan! I don’t need more of your shit!”

Jill answered. “Nope, it’s me.”

Relief swept through me. Exactly who I needed. I wiped my eyes. “Come in.”

She opened the door, and I did a double take. When I’d left, her pregnancy had been showing, but now, at about eight months along, it was showing and even more prominent due to her petite frame. “Damn. You’re preggers.”

“No shit, Sherlock,” she said as she moved to sit beside me on the bed. “Glad to see you still have those awesome detective skills. I came over for a visit and walked in on a major throwdown. Now, tell me. What the hell did Ryan do to you?”

As though on cue, the basement door slammed with violent force.

I wiped my eyes again. “Shit. We were talking. It was nice. And then he said he knew Mzatal and I were together and asked what that meant for him and me.” She offered a tissue, and I paused to blow my nose. “And shit,” I continued, “I didn’t even know what to say, so I said something dumb about how I loved Mzatal but loved Ryan too, and not just as a friend. As soon as I said it, I knew it was the wrong thing to say, but by then it was too late, y’know? He got all pissy and ‘what, you expect me to share?’” I sighed, still feeling the sting of his response. “I told him that wasn’t what I meant but later thought maybe it was. And I told him I didn’t know what any of it meant for him and me.” I looked over at her. “I was floundering, but doing okay up to that point. Then he got really assholeish and started going on about how I’d thrown away my values. Fucking shit! My goddamn values .” I exhaled a shuddering breath as some of the tension melted. Simply being able to vent my frustration helped. “And that’s about the time I told him, ‘Fuck you and your values’ and some other stuff and came up here.”

“Oh jeez. What you said!” Jill put her arm around me and gave me a squeeze. “You’ve been away a while, and it sounds like you’re used to talking pretty openly about stuff.” She wrinkled her nose. “Ryan’s a guy and, well, you know how he is.”

I snorted. “Yeah, I do.” Yet I knew what she didn’t. Ryan wasn’t just a guy . I knew the Ryan-Szerain struggle, had a better understanding of his moodiness and the challenges he faced. It was no wonder that, after Szerain tasted a sliver of freedom, he fought to reclaim it, even if it unbalanced his entire prison, Ryan included. I needed to remember that before doing or saying shit that would screw them both up. Away from the heat of the moment, that knowledge sparked a stab of guilt.

I should’ve been able to keep it together better for both of us. I sighed. Too late now to worry about it. “Jesus, woman,” I said. “You’re really pregnant.”

She grinned and laid a hand on her belly. “A bit. She’s feisty!”

“It’s the tail,” I said with as straight a face as I could manage. “I’ve heard they’re usually twice as long in demon-human babies as—” I ducked and laughed as she grabbed a pillow and swung at me.

“You are EVIL!” she yelled, but laughter danced in her eyes. “You’re damn lucky I asked Zack a long time ago if I was going to have to push out something with wings. Plus, I’ve seen the ultrasound. Bitch.”

I grinned. “Yeah, I figured you’d had an ultrasound by now, and didn’t think you’d be so calm if it had four arms.”

“Two arms and two legs,” she stated firmly. “No wings. And no tail.”

I resisted the urge to tease her more. “Got any names picked out yet?”

“Nothing that’s stuck. And Zack won’t commit to anything.” Her amusement slipped away. “He won’t even talk about it anymore except to say it’s too soon to name her.”

“Too soon?” I gave her an incredulous look. “She’ll be here in a month!”

“I know, but he won’t budge,” she said with a touch of resentment. “He’s so weird sometimes.” Then she gave a dismissive wave of her hand. “Enough of that. What’s next for you?”

“I’m back on Earth to find Idris.” I quickly filled her in on who he was and the search for him, and how special he was to both Mzatal and me. “So to really get the ball rolling, I have to summon Mzatal tonight.” A scowl tugged at my mouth. “That’s sure to set Ryan off again.”

Jill shifted to face me more. “Yeah, about that.” She narrowed her eyes in the way that told me she wasn’t on board with something. “Did I hear you say you told Ryan you loved Mzatal? You do? Really?”

My scowl deepened. I didn’t need anyone else judging my relationship. I took a deep breath and did a mental pygah. “He’s really special to me. We worked closely for two months before we slept together. And it’s been another four months since then. So, yes. We’ve grown really close.”

“That’s cool,” she said unconvincingly. “I wanted to check and be sure. But he has to be a miracle worker to raise my opinion of these lords.”

“Trust me, babe, he has the miracle worker part covered,” I told her fervently. “I’m telling you, I was in bad shape after Rhyzkahl damn near destroyed me.”

Her brow wrinkled. “That’s about all you said when you came back last time. What did Rhyzkahl do to you?”

I hesitated, then stood and stripped off my shirt. “ This is what he did to me.”

Jill’s hands flew to her mouth. “Oh my god.”

I lifted my arms, turned a slow circle to give her a clear view of all twelve sigil scars that covered my torso, front and back. One for each demonic lord, and then one more whose purpose had been to harness and focus the power of the other eleven.

Naked horror filled her eyes. “Why? How?”

I lowered my arms. “It was a ritual meant to turn me into a thrall, a tool for him to use to further other plans. And, to lay the foundation to recover an arcane blade similar to the one he used to carve these into me.” I pulled my shirt on again. “As for the how, he slugged me, bound me in strappado position, then took his knife to me. Both shoulders dislocated, fractured cheekbone, mental and emotional torment, and . . . the scars.”

“Oh my god .”

“Yep. That about sums it up.” My mouth tightened. “Oh, and this was after he made love to me in the middle of the ritual circle.” I sat heavily on the edge of the bed. “Stupid. Blind.”