Daemon Grudge Read online

  As she cradled him in her lap, his blood soaked into her jeans where it still leaked steadily from his wounds.

  “Give him to me.” The psycho one called Nikos didn’t wait, but gently lifted Eldon out of her arms and placed him flat on the floor. He ripped the shirt open and peeled back the material, then blanched. Eldon’s torso was riddled with holes. “Fucking hell.”

  Nine gaping wounds bled sluggishly.

  “Armor-piercing rounds.” Octavia went numb. Kronos had moved from taking captives to outright murder. They had targeted her and Eldon for interfering in the business.

  Determination hardened Nikos’s face, and he placed his palms on Eldon’s ribs and neck. His hands glowed amber, the shade matching his eyes as they brightened with power. The scent of warm beaches radiated from him, giving her a spark of hope.

  A wave of static rippled through the room, pulling toward Nikos, but no matter how much energy he pumped into the old man, none of the wounds were healing.

  Knowing that she was too late burned like she’d swallowed acid.

  “Stop.” Eldon gave a hacking cough, blood bubbling up from his mouth. “You and I both know you’re not able to heal a mortal wound, not without risking your own life.”

  “I can fucking try,” Nikos snarled. A big redhead leaned down from behind him and wrapped him up in a bear hug, dragging him back, Nikos fighting him every step of the way. “Let me go, Atticus.”

  The big guy dropped to his knees when his friend fought him, tightening his grip, refusing to relent, a look of torment etched on his face. He was shorter than the other guys, but stockier, his frame pure muscle. His dark red hair was curly on top, but cut short on the sides and back. His stunning green eyes were devastated as he cradled his friend. His closely-clipped beard covered the lower half of his face, but it didn’t disguise the way his lips were mashed together in sorrow as he whispered to his friend. “He’s beyond help, little brother. You can’t do anything but ease his pain now.”

  Nikos cursed, his expression shattered as he collapsed against the larger man. With a heavy sigh of defeat, he crawled back to Eldon and rested his fingertips against the old man’s temples.

  Seconds later, Eldon relaxed and smiled up at Nikos. “Thank you, my boy.”

  A fourth man knelt opposite her, taking Eldon’s hand in his own and cradling it tightly to his chest. She was so distracted she hadn’t even noticed him entering the room. He leaned over Eldon, his black shiny hair short on the sides, while the longer strands were swept back on top like a model. His pale blue eyes almost seemed to glow, while the smell of cherries and leather curled around him. “What trouble have you gotten yourself into this time, old friend?”

  Eldon cracked a smile, then turned toward her, his expression softening and he held his free hand out toward her. Razor blades were cutting her up inside every time she tried to swallow. Though she wanted to curl up and lick her own wounds, wanted to find Thomas and his men and destroy them, she held her ground and slowly reached for him.

  “I’ll make them pay. I promise, I—”

  “Hush.” He brought her hand up to his mouth and kissed the back of it, his eyes shining bright. “You’ll do no such thing. We both knew the risks. I’m an old man. I’ve already lived longer than expected. It was my time. It had to be this way. I brought you here so you can survive. These guys will keep you safe and train you until you come into your full power.”

  The man across from her stiffened, his gaze invasive and hostile as he glared at her. She avoided even acknowledging him. Revulsion twisted through her like worms burrowing under her skin at the thought of being trapped and controlled once again.

  She had no intention of staying.

  Kronos and all their cronies would come after her next.

  If she stayed, they would bring hell down on their doorsteps.

  As if reading her thoughts, Eldon tsked his tongue like she was a naughty child. “You won’t deny a man his dying wish, will you? I think I’m going to miss that stubbornness of yours the most.”

  Tears burned her eyes, and she bit back the sob of pain, trapping it in her throat. “You said I have powers. Use them to heal yourself.”

  She didn’t care what it would cost.

  “You and I both know we can’t force your powers to emerge.” He gave her a sad smile and patted her cheek. “I’m going to miss seeing you grow up and raising hell after I’m gone. I’ve had a good life, and I regret nothing.”

  Little wisps of vapor arose from his skin, his eyes dimming as he patted her one last time. “Warrick…promise me you won’t let anything happen to my little Valkyrie. She’s the key to our survival…or our ultimate destruction if she falls into the wrong hands.”

  “You have my oath.” The man’s voice was cool, his voice raspy.

  But it was already too late.

  Wisps of sparkling gold vapor collected in the air above Eldon. It touched her face lightly, the scent of bergamot that reminded her of Eldon wrapping around her once more in a comforting hug even as it faded.

  A beat of silence passed, then Warrick leaned over, closing Eldon’s eyes for the last time, the light in them already gone.

  “Would you care to explain what scheme you concocted that got Master Eldon murdered?” Warrick rose to his full height and glared down at her.

  Octavia blinked up at him in shock, trying to make sense of what he was saying, her voice rising an octave when she spoke. “Excuse me?”

  Warrick’s face was all hard angles, his jaw square, his eyebrows just a little too overpowering, but it was his blue eyes that arrested her. They burned the brittle cold of condemnation.

  “You’re his precious little Valkyrie.” He crossed his arms, his legs spread, his stance—his very being—imposing as hell. “He’s been taking more and more risks since you’ve come into his life, disappearing for days or even weeks at a time. Then you have the audacity to return with his body, covered with his blood, crocodile tears trickling down your face.”

  “Warrick!” the nerdy one barked, glaring at him. “This is not the time or the place. She’s—”

  “It’s the perfect time, Keegan,” Warrick snarled at his friend, then turned those hate-filled eyes back on her. “He might have been fooled by her pretty face, but I won’t allow her to put us in danger.”

  Octavia felt like she’d been punched in the chest, her insides ripped open and laid bare. The rage she expected never came, and numbness spread swiftly to her limbs. As much as she wanted to rant and rave, she couldn’t deny the truth.

  She leaned forward, kissing Eldon’s forehead, saying goodbye, her tears splashing his face. Instead of the coldness she expected, her lips burned at the contact, leaving her whole face tingling. She struggled to stand, nearly falling flat on her face, her limbs stiff and awkward.

  Warrick snorted in derision, and she turned toward the sound, dropping on her ass when the world tipped around her.

  “What—”

  “Oh, please,” Warrick snapped, derision twisting his lips. “Pretending to be all weak and innocent doesn’t suit you.”

  But Octavia couldn’t respond—her body was no longer her own. She crashed sideways, her face smacking the ground hard enough that a ringing reverberated in her head when she was too slow to bring up her hands.

  “Shit.” Keegan took a step toward her. “I don’t think she’s faking.”

  But she barely heard them as she watched as Eldon’s skin began to crack, deep, ember-like lava forking across his arms and chest. Tiny flicks of ash and cinders floated up in the air. Wisps of flame whisked up like tiny cyclones, and his body began to crumble into itself, his bones glowing like logs of cinder.

  The flames licked at the air, tiny black insects seeming to swarm inside the inferno.

  Heat bathed her face until it felt like her skin was going to split open. She sucked in a raspy breath, and the fire streaked toward her, stealing past her parted lips. The tiny whirlwind of fire crawled down her throat, seeped in
to her lungs, her entire body feeling like it was being roasted alive from the inside out.

  The blessed numbness was ripped away, leaving her writhing in agony.

  Molten lava seeped into her veins, then began to spread until her limbs felt like they were being shredded down to bone. The outside world vanished while flames devoured her flesh. Her body contorted, her spine arching under the pain, as if she was being stitched back together by knitting needles laced with acid.

  Unable to bear the torture, she let out a ragged, hopeless scream of fury at the gods who’d abandoned her, then gave herself up to the darkness.

  Chapter Four

  Octavia woke with a gasp, bolting upright in bed. Sheets pooled around her waist, and she looked around frantically, her heart thumping against her ribs like a bunch of fucking dwarves were hammering inside her chest trying to escape.

  “It’s okay. You’re safe.” The voice was nothing but a low rumble that rubbed along her nerves like a cat, easing the vise clamped around her head.

  She turned her head slowly to see the red-headed dude sitting in a chair next to her bed. They called him…her head gave a painful thump-thump as she recalled his name. “Atticus?”

  He gave a broad smile, his green eyes twinkling. His posture was relaxed, almost like he was happy to see her. His teeth were straight and white behind his dark, reddish-black beard, his lips soft and generous. He opened his mouth, but before he could speak, she leaned over the side of the bed and threw up all over his boots.

  She waited for his roar of anger, fearing the sound would split open her skull, her raging headache threatening to consume her. The man heaved a sigh and gazed down at his feet contemplatively. “At least it was you and not Nikos this time.”

  She blinked at him, trying to remember what happened, but the more she concentrated, the more her stomach churned. Dread clung to her like a burr, digging and scratching at her mind. Her skin felt like she’d rolled around in itchweed. Even her hair hurt. “What the hell happened?”

  The big man stood, towering over her on the bed, but she was too weak to even stand and defend herself. But instead of attacking, he pulled the blankets back over her shoulder and headed toward the door.

  “I’m going to get the others.”

  The door closed with a soft click…followed by a snick as the locks engaged.

  The fucker locked her in.

  Memories of last night were foggy. The last thing she remembered was Eldon dying in her arms, men arguing…then nothing.

  Not wanting to be around when the assholes returned, she flung back the blankets and forced herself to stand. The world tipped like a freakin’ tilt-a-whirl. Knowing she didn’t have much time, she gritted her teeth and used the nightstand to steady herself when her legs wobbled pathetically, as if she was trying to walk on six-inch heels for the first time.

  She noted the small nicks and cuts she acquired during the battle were gone, the wounds more of an annoyance than a hindrance.

  Hell, not even a residual ache remained.

  She stumbled toward the bathroom, then stopped dead when she caught sight of her reflection in the mirror…and gawked at the complete stranger staring back at her.

  She tilted her head, gaping when the image mirrored her pose. She cautiously wrinkled her nose, disturbed when the girl copied her micro-expressions. She hesitated, then touched her face, her fingers brushing against cool, smooth skin and nearly jerked her hand back.

  She’d grown up fast, barely recognizing herself and the things she had to do over the years to survive. To have the image of herself ripped away, the only thing she had left, cast her adrift.

  Her hair had always been straight, mousy brown, but now it was lush, the wavy strands a myriad of shades ranging from brown to blonde. Her face had changed as well. She should’ve looked pale and washed out, but her skin almost glowed. Her lips were fuller, making them look sexy.

  Her blue eyes were almost electric with color.

  They fucking glowed.

  Not like a daemon, not just a ring or two of color, but her whole eyes, like they were lit from within. They’d always been just a tad too far apart, but the bright blue color staring back at her made her look stunning instead of her normal dopey self.

  She’d gone from cute to sexy in a way that would draw attention, and she wasn’t comfortable with the changes. She touched her face again to make sure it wasn’t some sort of illusion, but she couldn’t feel even the smallest trace of magic.

  Only then did she become aware that she was wearing pair of boxers and a male shirt that hung to her knees. She wasn’t a short woman by any means, standing a solid five foot seven inches, but she practically drowned in the damned borrowed underwear.

  It smelled like matches and a warm campfire. Though the cotton barely touched her sensitive skin, her body ached from the contact. She squinted as the brightness from the small window hit her in the face, and she blinked, stunned to see it was daylight outside.

  She’d lost time.

  Her senses slowly came online. Scents were almost overpowering, while her sight and hearing were significantly sharper. Footsteps sounded from the hallway, and she knew she had a few minutes at most before the guys returned.

  Determined to be gone before they returned, she whirled and slammed the bathroom door shut, cursing when she didn’t find a lock. She ripped down the shower curtain, the metal loops and rod clanging when they hit the floor. Her eyes widened a little when the metal accidently bent under her hands like taffy. Shoving aside her unease, she rammed the rod under the door handle and wedged it tight enough that the floor tiles cracked. She’d always been stronger and faster than humans since she’d been given those injections by the Kronos group, but never an effortless strength like this.

  Not giving herself time to think, she flung open the curtains to the window above the toilet.

  Shit.

  The window was small, more decorative than anything. She popped open the latch, then huffed when it barely cracked opened an inch.

  She grabbed the window with both hands and tore it clear off the frame, the crack of wood echoing in the small space. Sticking her head out the window, she gauged the distance to the ground.

  Three stories.

  Of course she was on the top floor.

  Totally doable…she’d make it work.

  She reached down and tied the hem of the shirt securely around her waist so it wouldn’t come flying over her head. She flopped down the toilet lid and stepped up onto the top of the tank, the cold porcelain searing against the soles of her feet.

  She wedged her head and shoulders out the window and used her upper body to pull herself through. The jagged frame scraped along her ribs and chest, and she cursed under her breath to discover her breasts were also fucking bigger. Fat lot of good that did her. She sucked in a breath and shimmied and wiggled for all she was worth, finally pulling her upper torso free.

  When it came to her hips, the wood gouged into her flesh, scraping away more skin.

  Then the knob to the bathroom door rattled ominously.

  Knowing she didn’t have much time, she twisted and shoved until her hips bled enough to make her skin slick. Just as she wiggled free, the door behind her splintered, tiny shards of wood peppering the bottoms of her feet.

  She gave herself one last push, then she was free-falling.

  For all of two seconds.

  Then a vise clamped around her ankle, and her triumphant grin turned into a scowl.

  She slammed against the side of the building, knocking the air out of her lungs before she was dragged inexplicably backwards. She clawed at the house, the wooden siding splintering under her touch, shards of paint and wood gouging into her flesh and ramming under her fingernails.

  She tried to brace herself against the window frame, but it was much too late. More hands grabbed her ankles and a pair of arms wrapped around her thighs. Just as her hips met the window frame, she heard a crunch, then she was pulled through the destro
yed opening. Her gut hit someone’s shoulders, and she was hauled back inside.

  She was carried into the bedroom and dropped unceremoniously back onto the bed.

  Even as her body bounced on the mattress, she twisted and began crawling across the surface…only to spy a pair of legs encased in jeans waiting for her. She looked up, still on her hands and knees, and discovered Nikos’s smiling face staring down at her.

  “I think sex kitten is my favorite pose on you.”

  “Pervert.” Octavia reared up and yanked open the knot in the T-shirt, blocking her boxer-covered ass from view. Not that the guys didn’t get a load of the goods when they hauled her back up through the window.

  She peered around the room to find all four of the guys waiting for her with various expressions on their faces. Nikos and Atticus appeared more amused than anything. Though Keegan’s eyes were heated, he was staring at her like she was a curious specimen, a tiny smile curling his lips, as if he was waiting to see what she would do next.

  It was Warrick and his bitter cold eyes that froze her on the spot, his displeasure like a fire-breathing dragon sucking up all the oxygen in the room.

  While she felt stronger than ever, she very much doubted she could take four daemons at once.

  “Why didn’t you just let me go?” she demanded, fists on her hips, a snarl curling her lips when the wounds stung in protest. “You want nothing to do with me anyway. Wouldn’t it just be easier?”

  Warrick narrowed his eyes at her, not saying a word, and she glanced at the other guys. “Is he constipated or just a moron?”

  The guys exchanged startled looks when Warrick sighed. “Keeping you here saves me from having to waste time hunting you down.”

  She turned back to him and glared. “What the fuck for? You’ve made your opinion of me more than obvious. Why even bother?”

  “I gave an oath to protect and train you.” Then, without another word, he turned on his heel and strode away.

  He might as well have shoved a knife between her ribs. She deflated, settling back on her haunches. Keegan walked to the door, then paused. “Nikos will help you heal, while Atticus will find something more suitable for you to wear than his shirt.”