Possession of Souls, Page 2

  I stood abruptly and tried to will myself to evaporate over to the other side of the room, but nothing happened.

  “Yeah—about your jinn powers—they won’t work in here. I made sure to take care of that. I can’t have you leaving without permission, now can I?”

  I wasn’t sure what he’d done to me, but right now I didn’t care. Vance was my primary focus, and I hurried across the room, my bare feet slapping against the cool smooth stone until I got to the few steps that led up to the large altar.

  Climbing them quickly, I reached his side, leaning over to caress his jaw.

  Cold ... he was so cold. It was then I noticed the bluish hue of his lips, as well as the pallor of his skin.

  “Vance?” I called out in a trembling voice, moving to run my fingers shakily through his hair. “Honey, wake up.”

  Gently, I skimmed my hands down the side of his face, pausing before sliding my thumbs out to push up his eyelids.

  Cloudy, unseeing, blue eyes stared back at me.

  A small sound of hysteria bubbled up from my throat, and suddenly the room tilted sideways in front of me. I grabbed the edge of the altar, sinking into a crouch, as I hung on with one hand and covered my mouth with the other, trying to keep from screaming or vomiting, I wasn’t sure which.

  I struggled for control, not wanting to weep because I knew it would be a sign of weakness to Damien, but I couldn’t help myself. I could feel the sobs wracking my body in silent shudders as hot tears flooded over the rims of my eyes.

  And then I realized I didn’t care anymore. What was I fighting for anyway? I didn’t care one whit what Damien thought of me. My hands slid down the rock, my cheek rubbing against its hard surface as I collapsed the rest of the way to the step beneath me.

  The horrible realization of what actually transpired flooded my mind, flashing back to the night of the fire when I thought Vance had come to rescue me from Mayla’s clutches.

  Damien had been the one to receive the Awakening, not Vance. Damien was the immortal—I was immortal, but Vance was not, and now Damien had finally killed him.

  A finger hooked under my chin, and Damien lifted my face toward his.

  “Don’t touch me!” I yelled, recoiling. I lifted my arm, willing my magic to shoot ice shards at him, but nothing happened.

  “What have you done?” I asked, while I tried to summon any sign of my powers, but to no avail. “Did you perform a demon kiss on me?” I gasped, looking up.

  He laughed. “No. No. Nothing like that, Portia.” He waved his hand as if he were brushing the subject off. “I’ve just given you a little injection that’s mixing in your blood right now. It’s binding your abilities for the time being … for your own safety, of course.”

  I watched him numbly, as he leaned past me to relight one or two candles that had gone out next to Vance, a small wick of flame dancing on the end of his finger.

  Swallowing hard, I closed my eyes as I spoke, not wanting to hear the answer to what I was about to ask.

  “But you performed a demon kiss on him, didn’t you?” My heart was pounding, and I thought I could actually feel horror pulsating through my veins. I knew fire wasn’t Damien’s natural magic—he had stolen Vance’s.

  I opened my eyes just in time to see him bring his flaming finger to his mouth, blowing it out like it was a match.

  “Yes, I did as a matter of fact ... after I drank a good amount from him as well. He wasn’t very happy with me. But what can you do when you are that weak from blood loss, really?”

  “Why would you do that?” I asked as the tears silently dripped from my eyes. “He was already a demon, just like you always wanted. I thought your kind didn’t care for demon blood.”

  He studied me for a moment before he spoke, as if weighing his words. “It’s true we don’t seek demon blood, but it can still do in a pinch. It’s tainted after a conversion and though it still gives a small boost of power, a fresh witch with uncontaminated magic is always preferable. I would compare it to consuming water or eating. Demon blood can help quench your thirst, but fresh blood will feed you.” He actually licked his lips while he looked at me, cocking his head slightly to the right to glance at my neck. “Vance is special though, and of course, I felt like I owed him one. Drinking from him was a pleasure.”

  “When did you do this?” I asked. My questions were morbid, but I wanted to know what happened.

  Damien made a clucking sound as he reached out to gently brush a stray lock of my hair from my face with a small, an almost tender looking smile playing across his lips.

  I flinched at his caress. “You know what? I don’t want to know. I don’t want you to talk to me.”

  He dropped his hand back to his side. “But I was going to answer your other question.”

  “I don’t want to hear anything you have to say anymore.” I scowled at him.

  “On the contrary, I think you would probably be very interested in hearing the answer.” He downed the remaining contents of his chalice, setting it to rest near Vance’s head on the altar, and moved to stand before me, squatting down to my level.

  “Why do you hate me so much?” he asked with a bemused expression.

  I clenched my teeth, trying to keep all the filthy vile words I wanted to spew out at him inside. “Isn’t it obvious?” I asked instead, slightly rolling my eyes to where Vance’s form lay stretched out above me.

  Damien lifted his finger, shaking it back and forth. “No, no. You hated me long before this ever happened and I want to know why.” He laced his hands together, placing his elbows on his knees and lifted his index fingers to brush against his lips.

  “I’m not in the mood to play your games, Damien,” I responded, with a sigh. “Just leave me alone, okay? You win. Is that what you want to hear? Then there, I said it. Will you go away now? Or better yet, just kill me or whatever it is you’re planning on doing. I’m done with all of this.”

  “See there? That’s exactly what I’m talking about. You automatically assume the worst is inevitable. Why?” He looked truly curious, and I wondered for a moment if he really was that stupid.

  “Why?” I asked, a little more forcefully than intended. “Why?” I said even louder. “Because from the moment your name was breathed into my existence, my life—our lives,” I amended, gesturing towards Vance, “have been an absolute hell! My family and I have struggled to protect Vance from you. Why, you ask? Because he came to us and said he didn’t want to be like you. Even then we didn’t know the full extent of all your depravity. You were willing to let your own son be cannibalized to serve your own purposes, to give you more power, never once thinking about his life or how it might affect someone other than yourself. Everything has always been about you, no matter how many innocent people fall in the wake of destruction you leave behind. So forgive me if I don’t care for you much!” I glared, feeling like I could burn holes right through him.

  Damien stood up and leaned over me, offering a hand.

  “Leave me alone,” I said looking away.

  He stepped closer, placing his hand directly in front of my face.

  I slapped it aside. “Get lost!” I reached out to shove at his legs, trying to push him backward off the stairs.

  He grabbed both of my wrists, yanking me hard up against his body as I struggled with him.

  “Let go of me, you freak!” I shouted as I tried to force him away, but he stepped forward, until he had backed me up against the altar.

  “Stop it!” he yelled as I thrashed against him, trying to get free from the way he had pinned me.

  He still held me and even though I tried with all of my might to call my magic, nothing was happening.

  Damien released one of my arms and grabbed around the neck, thrusting me backward until I was lying across Vance. I tried to scream, but he was cutting off my air.

  I flailed at his face, ripping his skin with my nails, only to watch the Awakening heal it almost immediately. My vision started spinning, and blackness s
tarted to creep in from the edges.

  Damien lifted my captured wrist to his mouth, and I watched him shift features. His fangs plowed into my artery with excruciating pain, and I could feel the unheard cry bubbling in my throat under his tightening hand, begging to be released.

  Suddenly he let go, and he slapped me hard.

  “Stop it!” he growled, and after one stunned moment I remembered I could breathe again, and I drug the air into my lungs.

  Damien lunged over me and grabbed Vance’s mouth, forcing it open, letting my blood flow freely into it before the Awakening healed it over.

  “What are you doing?” I shrieked as I tried to shove him away.

  He yanked me up against him brusquely and turned me around so my back was up against his chest. He bent me over the altar, shoving my face next to Vance’s.

  “I said stop it, Portia!” he bellowed again, and he grabbed my head, holding it in place as I tried to push away. “Look!” He laughed, and I could see my tears falling onto Vance.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered to Vance as I still struggled against Damien.

  “Look at what you’re seeing,” Damien’s voice boomed behind me, and suddenly I was frozen by his magic.

  Unable to move, I was forced to watch in awe as Vance’s face began to transform in front of mine. His blood covered lips suddenly regained their color, and a pink flush began to spread across his skin.

  Damien released me, stepping back, letting the spell he was using to hold me go too.

  “This is what I was trying to show you,” he said, somewhat breathlessly, and I lifted my head to look at him.

  “What’s happening?” I asked in wonder, turning to watch as the color spread through Vance’s flesh, heating beneath my touch.

  “He regenerates—in every way possible,” Damien said as if it were obvious. “I’ve read lore about this happening before in some of my archeological studies but have never had any true evidence of it until now.”

  “You knew this?” I turned to him and flailed my fists against his chest. “And still you let me suffer?”

  He grabbed my hands and pulled them away, staring hard at me.

  “You wouldn’t let me answer your question,” he said roughly. “I would’ve explained it to you. This is how I’m still here. He regenerates, and apparently it’s hereditary—from me—his father.”

  He let go, and I stared at him numbly, trying to understand the possible implications of this statement, when suddenly I heard Vance gasp.

  Before I could look, Vance grabbed me from behind, jerking me to him and sinking his elongated teeth into my neck.

  Chapter 2

  I didn’t fight him. I knew he needed my blood to repair himself, and I tried not to wince as his fingers dug into the tender flesh of my upper arms. He drank from me in great uncontained gulps, sucking the skin of my neck roughly into his mouth with the pressure of his pull.

  He bit harder into me, trying to get more, and I closed my eyes as a gurgling cry escaped my throat. Soon, my head started to spin, and my limbs grew weaker until I was unable to hold myself up. My knees buckled, and I collapsed back against the stone altar behind me.

  Vance let out a growl of frustration, moving his arms to grip me around the waist, pulling me up onto the altar and into his lap without breaking the seal of his mouth against my neck. He continued to drink heavily from me for several long moments.

  My arms flopped out uncontrollably and the blackness began rising up to meet me when suddenly he stopped, tearing away from me in frustration. He was trembling slightly, and he cradled me before something akin to the sound of a strangled moan came from inside him.

  “You received the Awakening again,” he choked out, his voice hoarse with emotion. “I can taste it in your blood. You have it. You and him,” he added with a snarl.

  His head dropped, and he buried his face into my hair.

  I couldn’t respond. I opened my eyes, trying to assess the situation. I slowly looked around for Damien, but I didn’t see him anywhere. I was too tired to wonder where he had gone. My attention though, was directed back to Vance when he spoke again.

  “So he wins in the end,” he said with a tortured sigh, sounding defeated. “I’m mortal and you’re not. He can kill me and keep you too. I’ve failed completely.”

  I couldn’t bear hearing the despair that laced through his voice while he held me so tightly, like he would lose me if he let go.

  Summoning all my strength, I forced myself to speak. “No,” I muttered softly, but it was enough.

  Vance lifted my face so he could look at me. “What do you mean, no?” he asked, and I could see tears glistening against his red eyes as they slipped silently to travel down his cheeks.

  “Don’t give up,” I whispered, fighting off the darkness that swam just at the edge of my vision now. “Not yet,” I pleaded, trying to give him one meaningful look, but I couldn’t fight it any longer, and I succumbed to the waiting abyss.

  When I awoke, an undetermined amount of time later, it was to find myself back on the plush bed, or rather in it. The throw pillows had been tossed carelessly aside, and I was lying directly in the middle of the bed with Vance’s head on top of my stomach, his arms sprawled out over me. He appeared to be fast asleep.

  Immediately, I tried making a mental connection, just to be sure it was him, but I could feel my answer even before that, the physical closeness of his body relaxing the pull of mine, and I breathed an audible sigh of relief.

  Lifting slightly, I looked around the cavern for Damien, again not seeing him anywhere. This surprised me—since I was sure he would’ve wanted to be here to gloat over his success.

  My movement stirred Vance, and he opened his eyes. “You’re awake,” he said, stating the obvious with a sigh of relief. “You were asleep for quite a while this time.”

  “I’m sorry,” I replied, reaching down to stroke my fingers through his hair.

  He rolled off me and sat up, scooting against the pillows before gathering me into his arms. “Stop apologizing, you’ve done nothing wrong. I’m the one who should be sorry,” he ground out.

  “But you needed it.” I wrapped my arm around his waist. “I know that.”

  He was silent for a moment. “But I hate what it does to you. It knocks you out cold every time.”

  “I’m ....”

  He cut me off. “Don’t you dare apologize again,” he said forcefully, so I bit my tongue.

  I heard him knock his head back once, then twice, against the headboard, and I looked up in question.

  “What do we do now, baby?” he asked, full of emotion.

  I crawled to my knees, reaching out to place my hands on either side of his face, and stared into those lovely blue eyes.

  “Talk to me, Vance,” I said softly. “Tell me what you’re feeling.”

  I could see him struggle to shutter his emotions, conflict warring in his expression with my request.

  “Please don’t shut me out. If we’re going to get through this together then we need to learn to operate on the same wavelength again.”

  His countenance hardened this time, and red streaks shot through them as a wave of anger rolled over him. “That’s exactly what the problem is!” he shouted, catching me by surprise. “There is no “together” anymore. He's taken you from me! Just like he promised he would.”

  “No!” I argued back. “He hasn’t taken me from you. I’m still yours one hundred percent, and I’m here with you now.”

  “For how long, Portia?” he growled out, grabbing my wrists and pulling them away from his face. “For a day? A week? A month? Until he decides to kill me and not allow me to wake up again? Then we are separated for a long, long, time. He’ll have you all to himself to bend to his mercy, and there is nothing I can do about it! I can’t protect you because he’s stronger than me now. I’ve failed you in every way possible!” His voice wrenched into an anguished sound, and a haunted look of agony replaced the anger in his eyes.

&
nbsp; “Oh, Vance.” I pulled my arms from his grip and crushed my lips to his.

  He answered me instantly, wrapping his arms around my body and rolling me over so he leaned over the top of me. He kissed me with a wild desperation I had never felt from him before, like a man who was drowning, struggling for his last breath, and I could feel the moisture that fell from him to mingle with my own.

  He ravaged my mouth until it felt bruised from the assault—before he lifted his head to kiss my tears, moving down to cradle his face against my neck.

  “I can’t lose you again, Portia,” he said, his voice muffled against my skin. The dam he’d been holding back finally let loose, and he gave into the sobs, letting them rack his body.

  I just held him, not speaking, stroking my fingers over his hair and down his neck, trying to give some sort of comfort. I’d never seen him like this before, so unsure, so defeated, and I had to admit it scared me a little. He had always been the strong, confident one, not to mention the fact his demon characteristics rarely led him to any such display of emotion. I knew he was very upset. This was coming from somewhere deep inside him.

  “Vance,” I said softly after several minutes, and he lifted his head to look at me with his red rimmed eyes. “I need you to understand something. Whatever happens from here on out, whether we’re fortunate enough to be together, or we’re separated—I’ll always love you, and only you, and that is all that’s important to me. No matter what he does, he’ll never be able to break our bond, and that alone will make us the victors in this.”

  He stared at me for several long moments, reaching to stroke my hair before he finally spoke. “I wish I could bottle your optimism and sell it to the world. I’ve never met another person like you. You’re stronger than anyone I’ve ever known. I love you more than anything. You know that, right?”

  “I know,” I replied with a nod.