Demon Day Read online

  The Rae Wilder Novels

  Book Two

  DEMON DAY

  Penelope Fletcher

  Copyright © 2011 Penelope Fletcher

  All rights reserved by the Author

  Smashwords Edition (1ST)

  British English (BrE)

  All characters and events in this novel are fictitious and resemblance to real persons, living or dead, are purely coincidental. No part of this novel may be reproduced, stored or transmitted without the prior permission in writing from the author.

  thedemongirl.com

  If you are new to this series, I advise you first read book one Demon Girl (The).

  For the readers who said ‘hai’

  Chapter One

  The path to contentment should be clear to one with a purpose, yet I diminished into the realm of the lost.

  Grief smothered me until I gasped for air.

  I hummed with passion. Hate. I wanted the High Lord’s head on a pike. I wanted to dance manically around his corpse, and give in to the dark whispers in the corners of my heart. Nothing less would appease the burring ache in my chest, the carnivorous sense of loss that threatened to consume me.

  The dew from the dawn soaked the understory, and smoke from the bonfire faded. I can barely remember what I had seen as I had stumbled through Orchard, fairy Wyld, and place of my birth.

  Coming to a halt at base of three large tree trunks the colour of ash, I had gotten a vague sense of being surrounded, and a low intense hum of feelings pressed on me from above, like whisperings of the gods calling from the heavens. I had looked up, dazed, and gasped at the fallen stars scattered across the forest canopy. The twinkling I had glimpsed among the rich green leaves was fairies and their auras. An immediate kinship bloomed in my heart and it petrified me. I had looked into their shinning faces and seen exactly what my arrival meant to them.

  The fairies stood on the porches and outer steps of tree houses seemingly growing from the thick bark that coated the broad tree boughs. The males and females wore long tunics and dark trousers beneath, similar to what I had seen in the Grove, but these people seemed softer somehow. These were not warriors, but families with young children and elderly folk who peeked down at me with expressions of awe. The elderly fairies, faces wrinkled, and hair shades of pure white and gray boggled my mind. How many centuries could have to pass for a fairy’s skin to wrinkle and back to become curved with age? Two thousand? Three? Not that I had forgotten, but it brought my own age into question. I had eighteen years of memories as a human. I was … had been a Sect Disciple found on a Priest’s doorsteps, and was given to the Clerics to become a protector of humanity.

  Yet Breandan, the fairy-boy who had found me, claimed I was born before him. Two hundred years before him. That was when my mother had split the key to the grimoire - a powerful book of spells - into three amulets and hidden them with magical guardians. One, the amulet of protection, had been given to my older brother Conall. The second, the amulet of wisdom, had been given to me. The last, the amulet of power, had been given to her nephew, and the heir to the fairy Wylds, Devlin.

  Had the protection of the key been my whole purpose maybe I would not feel the need to run away. Perhaps I could have adjusted into my new life as a demon, a kind of being I had been raised to hunt down and kill if it threatened the safety of my human home. But what came with the amulets I’d nearly died for was a responsibility to use their power to protect and guide the fairy people, the cornerstone of demonkind.

  Stricken with grief, stumbling across the Wyld, I found myself in the midst of the people I was destined to protect they intuitively looked to me for reassurance. Shaken and frightened after the sensational and violent departure of their High Lord they turned their faces down toward me, and I felt the weight of every gaze – a thick swelling of anxious consciousnesses pleading for me to soothe them. But I had nothing to give. Nothing. I was a girl, angry, and full of anguish. What did they expect from me? I watched their Lord abuse and murder my best friend. I was forced to watch her suffer, unable to help her as iron chains drained my power. Alex had been chosen for being nothing more than a source of purity, and as a twisted way for Devlin to get back at me. How could they have expected anything from me? I saw nothing but monsters. Pointy eared and fanged monsters in a myriad of colors and creeds reaching out their talon tipped fingers to trap and torture me.

  Shivering, I came back to myself and glanced around. I sat by a pool of cool water, and the most beautiful lush flowers I had ever seen bloomed in the morning sunrays. The air was fresh, and scented with a zesty bouquet. I breathed in deeply, letting the cool air chill my lungs even as my mind fought for clarity. The air tasted sweet and earthy, and every noise no matter how low or loud washed over me like raindrops, like music. Colour was intense and everything seemed to shimmer and glow. As the dawn passed and the sun climbed higher in the sky the soft radiance emitted by the flora intensified. Never had I experienced a dawn like it. When I was at Temple the sun always retreated behind low and dark clouds, covering the land in a perpetual twilight. Here everything was made of light and shone brightly.

  I was not alone in this magical place.

  After I had emerged from the earthen tomb I encased Tomas, my vampire, inside to hide from the sun that scorched his skin, Breandan had spoken a few terse words with Conall. My brother had motioned for me to follow him after gently placing Alex’s shrouded body on the altar she had lost her life upon. Ignoring him, I had walked off, needing to stretch my legs and make sense of everything I had been through. It was then I had come to the centre of the fairy Wyld, and caught a glimpse of the rest of my kind. Sensing my panic, he’d clasped my elbow and brought me here, to the sparkling pool, and left me to go and do whatever fairy lords do after such a night as we had suffered.

  The two fairies he’d left me with had taken one long look at me then coaxed me to the pools edge. Slowly, they had approached and when I did not move or speak they began their careful grooming of me. Each touch was feather light and they clearly had a deep appreciation of my personal space for never once did I feel like hissing at either of them. Wrapping my arms around my legs, and resting my chin on my knees, I let them tend to me. They dressed me in a sheath of dark muslin and tied flowers into my hair. They were attentive and respectful, so I sat quietly let them do what they wanted. In honesty, I didn’t know what to do, or think, and getting upset over a gentle rubbing down with a soft cloth and flower scented water seemed silly.

  “I sense you have had healing magic, Lady Priestess,” the older fairy-woman said in a tinkling voice. “It is not wise to indulge in healing magic too often, but would you let me sing to you? You will find it soothes your mind and revives your body.”

  I eyed her distrustfully, but even maintaining that seemed too much effort, and I shrugged lifelessly. She smiled her eyes crinkling at the edges, and she sung to me in a soft, lilting voice. I let the words wash over me, and was surprised when I did begin to feel better. Finishing she peered into my face, and I gave her a genuine smile, even if it was a bit small. She beamed back at me and gave – whom I realized was her apprentice – a short order to tidy up.

  They stood, but I remained seated, glancing at them in vague interest. The elder fairy paused. “Should you have need of me again my name is Lily,” she motioned elegantly to her apprentice who stared at me in awe, her chubby face pinky-purple. “And this is Grace.”

  The fairy-girl sank into such a low curtsey the ends of her red hair scraped the forest floor. “An honor, Lady Priestess,” she greeted breathlessly, remaining bent over.

  “Hai,” I blurted uncomfortably, my voice cracking from lack of use.

  Lily winced delicately, her papery features wrinkling. “I served your mother and I know the b
urdens can be many. Should you ever have need of me do not hesitate to seek me out.”

  With a small nod of her head Lily left me at the pools edge with my thoughts, gliding away with her hands clasped in front of her. Grace trailed behind her; the woven basket of oils and cloths clutched in her hands, shooting me an amazed look over her rounded green shoulder.

  Liking the peace and quiet, I enjoyed the sight of the sun climbing higher in the sky, edging toward dense cloud cover I knew would smother its radiance until the next dawn. I suspected outside of the Wyld the bright yellow sunshine would become pale.

  I heard the crunching of leaves behind me. It was not Breandan for I could sense when he was near. My brother? I frowned when feet too big to be Conall’s stepped into view.

  “We must talk,” a gruff voice commanded. And it was a command. I doubted this fairy knew how to address others in a casual manner.

  “I thought you had returned to the Grove?”

  “I came back. For you.”

  My eyes drifted closed. “Right now, Lochlann? Must we do this now?”

  He exhaled loudly. “I can bring myself to understand how this may be hard for you, but I do not have the luxury of time. Nor do you.”

  “Devlin will still be there in a few days from now. He’ll die by my hand, and it doesn’t matter if it is today or tomorrow.”

  “You know I cannot allow that.”

  My eyes opened and I shrugged, peering at nothing. “At what point did I give the impression I give a damn what you say?”

  “You would listen if he asked you. But you love him, don’t you?” Lochlann paused, waiting for my answer. I said nothing. “Your love I do not need.” He crouched down on his hunches beside me. “I need your loyalty, Rae. I need your respect and,” he grabbed my chin and yanked my head round, “at the very least I need your full attention.”

  I jerked from his grasp and glared at him, my body recoiling at his touch.

  His handsome face was stony, unimpressed, and his eyes narrowed at the same time as mine.

  Lochlann was a fine fairy male. He was bulkier than Breandan, rugged, and from what I gathered much older. His ears had the point of fairy and his skin had the faintest of green tinges. He had no tail or wings, but what he did have was a powerful and commanding presence that I had to fight not to feel intimidated by. His hair brushed his shoulders in golden blonde waves, and his jaw was square. The most striking thing about this fairy lord was that he had one green eye and one blue, both cold and beautiful. I saw much of Breandan reflected through that gaze, and it made me uncomfortable.

  “Why do you, Breandan, and Maeve look so different?” I asked. “Conall and I have the same coloring even though my fairy form is like this.” I looked down at my tail, flicking on the ground by my leg. “Not that I understand why I’m shaped differently either.”

  Lochlann watched me for a while before he said, “Truly, you know nothing of what you are?”

  I flushed. “Just what I’ve learned from the Clerics.”

  He snorted. “Then you know nothing. Fairies conceive like humankind but our bodies do not work the same.” He frowned. “The genetic markers do not behave the same. We are all born with a purpose and a destiny. We all used to have green skin, red, or light colored hair, wings and tails, but as we evolved and mixed with other races our blood diluted. You and Conall come from an ancient bloodline, and there is strength in your blood that defies time. You have wings and a tail, proof of this. We have not seen a form so pure in a long time, Rae. It is a great honor.”

  He hadn’t answered my question. “And your family?”

  His upper lip twitched. “Breandan and Maeve were birthed by different mothers to my own.”

  “And may the gods keep them warm in their embrace for an eternity,” said a high trill from behind me.

  A fairy, the first I had ever laid eyes on, skipped up to us and curtsied, clasping her hands behind her back and giving me a sheepish look. Her fiery hair drifted over her shoulders, and the damp, darkened tips slid across her pale green collarbones. She was slender, and moved with an innate poise gifted to our kind.

  “Grace fell over herself telling me you were here, and that she had tended to you. I thought I would check to make sure you were alright.” Maeve’s scarlet irises darted between Lochlann and me. The tension between us was evident by the way her eyebrow climbed. “You are alright?”

  My eyes went from narrowed to slitted.

  “I will be,” I replied flatly, and rested my head back on my knees to watch a dragonfly flit across the water’s surface.

  Maeve came to sit cross-legged on my other side, and sighed. “You know I had no choice. And I did do all I could to help. I made sure the chains didn’t–” She cut off guiltily.

  Lochlann chuckled. “I know you helped her, sister. I am not mad.”

  She gathered herself up and nodded. “Good. Breandan is always so grumpy and serious, but he smiles when Rae is around. Can you believe it? Breandan smiling. We need to keep her happy so she doesn’t up and leave him.” Maeve giggled and played with the tufts of weeds and flowers by her wriggling toes. “I’m glad to help you if it means I get to see one of my grouchy brothers’ content once and a while.”

  “Says one in a constant fit of giggles.” There was a deep affection in Lochlann’s voice when he spoke to her and I peeked at his face.

  It had softened as he watched his baby sister. The affectionate expression was one I’d not seen on his face before, and it warmed my heart. All I had ever seen was him scowling at Breandan. I’d assumed he was cold to everybody, even his own kin. Possibly this fairy lord was worth following? It wasn’t like I had many options.

  Lochlann needed me, my blessing, to become High Lord of the fairy race, and I needed to decide sooner rather than later if I was going to give it to him. The least I could do is make sure if I did follow him that he was truly as dedicated to his people as Breandan and Conall professed him to be.

  Maybe if it didn’t feel like the morning was a massive inhalation of breath waiting to exhale, I would stay, and learn about him. Possibly, if I didn’t feel a pressing need to be gone from this place, I would come to understand him much better.

  But as it was I felt a sudden and urgent need to be gone.

  “I’m going after Devlin,” I said quietly. Lochlann and Maeve’s attention shifted to me. Straightening my legs, I flexed my wings, and rolled my head around my shoulders. “I’ll get the grimoire back and we’ll take it from there.”

  “It would be better if you stayed,” Lochlann said in a measured voice. From the tone I could tell he was being mindful to not sound like he was ordering me about. “I have already tasked Conall with the retrieval of the spell book. He is my best warrior and tracker by far.”

  “Then I’ll go with him,” I said simply.

  As far as I was concerned the conversation was over, and I reached through my bond to Breandan to discover where he was. It didn’t take me long to find him, and it took even less time for him to find me, making me think he’d been closer than I had known. Breandan knew how to mask the bond, and at some point I had to get him to teach me how.

  He stepped from the shadows of a tree and paused for half a beat when Lochlann abruptly stood.

  As he approached a hot flush spread over my limbs, and my wings fluttered.

  His body was tall, face unspeakably beautiful, and his countenance fierce. Breandan glowed with a silver light that pulsed beneath his skin, and made the black tattoos covering his lean body from head to toe shift and move. The marks on his torso were stunning, swirling lines, and intricate patterns that weaved around runes of power, and incantations of magic. As always his eyes ensnared my attention first and kept my attention the longest. His silver-blue gaze was a prison I would readily endure for an eternity. They were mesmerizing, and more often than not trained on me. Drooling in the company of his family was probably not good manners, so I let my gaze drift to the left and enjoyed tracing the shape of his ear,
curved to a slender elliptical with a sharp point.

  He wore dark segmented trousers, rigid across his thighs and shins, but flexible about his waist, groin, and knee joints. Fairy males did not wear tops so their chests were always temptingly bare. Breandan’s smooth and hard chest was more tempting than most.

  Heart thumping - worked up from my bold and intimate stare - immediately I stood, and waited patiently for him to hold me when what I wanted was to run headlong into his arms, and rub myself over him.

  He stopped a few paces away and wrapped his hands round my upper arms and pulled me into him. I went willingly, my nature crowing in joy at the pleasure rippling from where his skin touched mine. I was unable to drum up resistance despite my inner turmoil at how easy enduring his touch became. Sighing, he brushed his lips across mine. My heart skipped a thump. Warmth. Sunlight. My mouth parted when he paused a hairsbreadth away from kissing me again, and I breathed him in, melting in his arms.

  The power of our bond flared and settled around us like a comforting cloak.

  Oh gods, it was true that I belonged to him.

  “Brother.” Lochlann’s voice cracked like whip and shattered the sweetness of our reunion.

  Breandan tensed and his face smoothed into a blank canvass. I blinked up at him, seeing much in his silver eyes, and wondering how it was possible to read so much from the way they watched me. He tried to disentangle himself, but I placed my hands on his broad shoulders and rested my cheek on his chest. I couldn’t help it, and the steady boom of his heartbeat was grounding.

  He breathed out, the sound almost a chuckle, and wrapped his arms around me, resting his chin on the crown of my head and swaying me gently in comfort. I made a small noise of contentment. Had he truly expected me to push him away?