Demon Marked

had fixed on his. He wouldn’t look away first.

She didn’t call out to him as he crossed the parking lot. Madelyn would have, smiling and cheerful—and loud enough to make certain she was heard. Nicky! There you are, love. I thought you’d become lost on the way to the loo! Anything to make a boy blush and squirm, especially if they’d had an audience. Alone, she’d still have been cheerful. So you’ve finally finished eating, have you? Oh, that’s all right, love. Mummy didn’t mind waiting. I don’t have anything more important to do, such as running your father’s business, do I? You obviously know that nothing can be as important as your little stomach, Nicky, because you certainly took your time, ha ha!

God. That had just been the beginning of it, and she hadn’t always been so cheery. As it was, fifteen years had passed before he’d exorcised the sound of her laugh echoing in his mind—a far longer time than he’d actually lived with her. Emotionally and mentally, Nicholas supposed he was still well and truly fucked up. Exorcising her from the face of the Earth wouldn’t change that.

He’d sure as hell feel better after she’d been slain, though. And if this demon—Ash—screwed up any opportunity to destroy Madelyn, he’d take her down, too.

Though he let that determination shine through his emotional shields like a beacon, Ash didn’t look away from him. She didn’t even blink. Christ. Didn’t a demon’s eyes get dry?

Apparently not. She held his gaze until he was practically on top of her, and when she did glance away, he didn’t think it had a thing to do with intimidation, with winning or losing. She simply decided to observe someone else.

He didn’t look around to see who. And though he’d intended to drive the remainder of the distance to Duluth, he couldn’t tolerate the thought of her watching him all that way—maybe learning too much about him. Better that she focused on the road. Taking her hand, he pressed the keys into her palm.

Her fingers twitched, her gaze snapping back to meet his. Startled? So was Nicholas. But she didn’t pull away, and he didn’t let go. He should have let go—and a demon’s touch should have been repulsive, but the warmth of her skin seemed to soak into his. He held on, letting the heat sink into him. Enjoying the feel of it.

Until her eyes began to glow. Jesus. He dropped her hand, pulled away. The cold air must have left him more chilled than he’d realized if the heat of a demon’s skin felt that good. Time to invest in a pair of gloves.

“Your eyes,” he warned her, and within a blink they were blue again. Shaking his head, he started around the vehicle to the passenger side. At this rate, she’d have the Guardians on them by nightfall. Or with Rachel’s face, a few humans.

He waited until she was in her seat. “You need to shape-shift.”

“All right. How?”

Oh, for fuck’s sake. “No lying. Just answer me directly: Can you shape-shift?”

“I don’t know if I can. But even if I can, I don’t know how.”

Shit. They’d reach Duluth a little before midnight, and she might go unrecognized in the sleeping city. Not so the next morning, when they drove to the Boyles’s house. He could make the trip by himself, leave her at the hotel, but he didn’t trust her that far. Not alone, not where he couldn’t keep an eye on her.

“Rachel lived in a small town,” he said. “You’d be recognized.”

Her eyes seemed to light. Not with crimson, but with anticipation. “Someone might know me.”

“They’d know Rachel, not you. And word would reach her parents that someone had seen her.” Fucked up he might be, but Nicholas wouldn’t do that to them. “They’d try to find you.”

“I want to meet them,” she said slowly, as if just realizing it—and as if she were surprised by the realization. “I want to.”

“Don’t even think it. You can’t. Not looking like that.”

The anticipation in her eyes faded. Anyone else, Nicholas might have felt like he’d kicked a kitten. With this demon, he thought the emotion would have quickly vanished, anyway. No disappointment replaced it.

She studied his face, then looked away to stick the key into the ignition. Over the quiet start of the engine, she said, “They wouldn’t believe I’m not their daughter, is that right?”

“Yes.”

Her amnesia would only make it more difficult to convince them, especially since she couldn’t shape-shift at will—and he’d end up staring down the barrels of Frank Boyle’s shotgun if he electrocuted her in front of them. Seeing the wings and horns might not matter, regardless. If they wanted to believe this was Rachel badly enough, nothing would stop them from doing so.

So why hadn’t this demon taken advantage of that before now? For someone who claimed to be searching for answers, she’d been slow to seek information from the likeliest source.

“Why didn’t you contact Rachel’s parents?”

“What purpose would it serve? They don’t know anything about me.”

“You’re certain of that.”

“If they had any idea that someone who looked like Rachel was alive, they’d have come for me. Nothing would have stopped them. But they didn’t come, so obviously they don’t even know I exist, let alone know who I am.”

She was right. But it didn’t explain how she’d learned that about the Boyles. “You read that on the Internet, too?”

“No. I just know it. It’s like . . . remembering a fact. I don’t realize the knowledge is there until I think about it, but when I do, I’m certain that it’s true.”

So her screwed-up memory treated the Boyles’ love for their daughter as a fact. Knowing the Boyles, Nicholas couldn’t argue that it wasn’t. And since neither Nicholas nor the demon had any idea about how she knew that fact, he dropped the issue.

So did Ash. She sat, looking into the rearview mirror—as she had been for some time, he realized. She’d moved the transmission into reverse, but held her foot on the brake.

“Why are we waiting here?”

She lifted her brows at the image in the mirror. Nicholas turned, looked through the back window. Not much to see. Big rigs idling. Empty vehicles in the parking lot, and others at the station fueling up.

“There’s a dog lying on the seat of that car,” she said. “I’ve noticed that a lot more people in America keep one as a pet. If I got one, I’d seem more normal.”

A dog? Rage blasted through him, so hot and viscous it felt like vomit. This demon thought he’d get her a dog? He’d cut off his legs before putting an animal in her care. Stomach roiling at the thought, he faced forward, jaw clenched. He wouldn’t let her see how her comment affected him. Fuck. Maybe she already knew. Maybe Madelyn had told her.

And she wouldn’t shut up about it. Wouldn’t stop looking at the mirror. “Do you think the family will mind if we take it? They left it in a cold car while they eat. They can’t care too much.”

Nicholas forced himself to speak, and kept his voice even. He wouldn’t give the demon this part of him. “A cold car isn’t going to hurt the dog.”

“Not physically. It’s lonely, though. I can hear it whimpering.”

And he could still hear the pained yip after his mother had cuddled the terrier that had scampered at Nicholas’s heels since he’d learned to walk. He could still see the surprise and horror in her expression when she’d called to him.

Nicky, love, come quickly! Something’s happened to Ringo!

Even as a boy, part of him had understood what she’d done. He simply hadn’t believed it, not for years. Now he knew that even though a demon couldn’t hurt a human, animals didn’t have the same protection—and if a demon could hurt a human by hurting something that he loved, she would.

“Get the idea out of your head and start driving, demon, or I’ll contact the Guardians and have them come for you now.” Their bargain and his soul be damned.

Ash didn’t respond. Nicholas thought she was still looking at the mirror, but no. She was watching him. Probably assessing everything he’d said, cataloguing his weaknesses. Fuck this.

“Drive,” he repeated. “Now.”

With a shrug, she reversed out of their spot. “Did your dog know what she was?”