Chapter Twelve

Deme paced her room, afraid to get comfortable, ultrasensitive to anything that might even remotely be construed as using her powers. When she'd arrived in her room, she expected things to be out of place, the vine at the window to be tapping, something weird.

Instead, the room appeared like any other college dorm room. Normal and generic. Except for the missing comforter on her bed.

She strode to the window and glanced down at the darkened garden. The vine had retreated from her window, hopefully for good. Exhausted by the lack of sleep the night before and the trying events of the day, Deme still couldn't imagine closing her eyes to sleep.

The elusive moon hid behind a thin layer of cumulus, turning the edges of the clouds a silvery blue. The ground below was nothing more than a black abyss, trees and shrubs hidden from view.

A light blinked on in a building across the garden. A lone figure stood silhouetted in a window.

Crossing the room to the folder she'd been given upon acceptance of the resident assistant position, Deme pulled out the campus map. With the map in hand, she returned to the window, orienting the map to the lay of the structures surrounding the garden.

The administration building stood across the garden and to the right of the Gamma Omega dorm. When Lion Hall had been standing, none of the surrounding buildings faced each other. Not so now. Although she couldn't make out the features of the other person, instinct told Deme who it was. The president of the college, Dr. Diane Masterson. What was she doing in her office this late?

With half a mind to go over and confront the woman, Deme hesitated. What could she ask without alerting the woman to her investigation of the staff and students? No. She couldn't barge in and demand to know why the woman stayed so late into the night. Likely she was as concerned as the police about the recent attacks and disappearance of one of the students.

For a long moment, Deme stared across at the other woman, wanting to extend a little magical nudge to read the woman's mind.

Deme tugged at the collar of her shirt, the air in the room feeling stuffy, muggy and dense. She looked away and beneath her breath muttered, "No magic. No magic. No magic." She hoped that by reminding herself constantly she'd remember not to cast even a simple spell. Not that she performed magic on a daily basis, but sometimes she sent a quiet prayer to the goddess for help or protection, or she used a little of her influence to tap into thoughts. After what happened in the garden and the library basement, she was afraid to speak to the goddess at all.

When Deme looked across the garden again, the woman had disappeared. At that exact moment, the light blinked out.

With nothing to stare out at but darkness, Deme resumed her pacing.

The more she paced, the more her legs dragged until finally she pulled a clean tank top and a pair of shorts from her suitcase and prepared for bed and another sleepless night.

Before she lay on the sheet-covered mattress, she checked the room thermostat. Why was it so hot and humid in the room? Eighty degrees? Good Lord. She maneuvered the dial to a cool sixty-eight. No wonder it was so hot.

Cal had promised to come by before he called it a night. Where was he? The digital alarm clock on her nightstand glowed a bright green eleven forty-five.

The air in the room didn't seem a bit cooler with the change in the thermostat. Deme checked it again. It was back at eighty. She tapped the box, cursing her inability to fix anything mechanical. Maybe when Cal got there he'd take a look at it. In the meantime, she reset the dial to sixty-eight, for what it was worth, grabbed a washcloth from her suitcase and dampened it with cool water. She pressed it to her warm skin, dragging it across her face and down her neck to her breasts.

So damned hot.

As she lay on the thin mattress, Deme pushed aside the sheets, fanning the cool, damp cloth over her and then draping it over her face.

With the cloth blocking the overhead light, Deme closed her eyes and breathed deeply, letting her body relax. Sleep would come if she'd just let it.

The air in the room thickened, and the effort to draw a breath grew more labored. Deme couldn't seem to bring a full deep breath into her lungs, so she took shorter, faster breaths until she panted like a dog in the full summer sun. The faster she breathed the more light-headed she felt.

So tired from her day, she didn't care, couldn't move more than to raise her hand to her chest. She lay still, the only thing stirring her fingers, trailing across her breasts. The air around her seemed to swirl and lift her hand, guiding it lower.

Half-asleep, not fully awake, she let her hand travel down her belly, to the juncture of her thighs. That throbbing area low in her body, aching for a touch, a stroke, a gentle hand to soothe away the tension. Or better yet, to create more.

Deme's fingers slipped beneath the elastic band of her shorts, lacing through the mound of curly hair. When she found that spot, she caressed it with the tip of her finger, stroking, coaxing, teasing.

Her back arched from the bed, her hips lifting to greet the steady ministrations of that magical finger. Her body tensed, climbing up the ragged peak to the climax. Intense vibrations rocketed through her body, sending her spiraling to the top of who knew where, lifting her higher with each minuscule brush of her finger.

A groan filled the air. She was surprised it was her own. In her body, but not, Deme couldn't control her responses, couldn't back down from the most intense orgasm she'd ever experienced. So intense she sensed it was wrong, but she couldn't stop herself from riding the wave on and on like a surfer on a never-ending crest.

The exquisite ache built into a painful desire, growing and changing with each passing moment. Deme's groans transformed into low guttural growls, her fingers curling into claws, scratching at her belly, tearing at her shirt.

Naked, she had to be naked. She ripped the cloth from her heated face, clawed at her shirt, ripping it away in shreds. Her shorts fell to the floor in nothing but tatters. Her eyes remained closed, the darkness a balm to the strengthening desire racking her body.

This is wrong.

The small voice whispering in the very back of her mind fought to push aside the animal expanding within, only to be beaten back, slammed against the wall of doubt.

Help. The essence of Deme struggled to surface from the quicksand of darkness drawing her down.

Piercing the darkness, a voice called out in a clear, sweet tone, Deme, fight it!

Aurai? Deme tried to open her eyes to see her beloved sister, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't.

Don't let it win!

I can't fight it. It's so strong.

You have to fight or it will consume you.

Deme shoved and pushed against the inky darkness, her body weakening, her will dissolving. It's too strong. Need help.

He'll come.

* * *

Cal raced along the Eisenhower Expressway and took the exit leading to Colyer-Fenton College, a sense of urgency he couldn't justify pushing him faster and faster.

Since he'd left Brigid at the station, he'd had an increasing sense of doom the closer he got to the campus. If he believed in intuition, he'd say someone was in trouble there.

Deme.

When he arrived at the Gamma Omega dormitory, he drove up on the lawn and parked his motorcycle in front of the door, hopping off before the engine stopped roaring.

He hit the door at a full run, slamming into the locked glass so hard he banged his nose.

Damn. He squeezed the bridge of his nose to stop the stinging, his eyes tearing. He'd forgotten the doors were locked at eleven o'clock. Only those with a pass key could enter.

He whipped out his master key and inserted it into the lock, twisting hard.

Down the hallway to the staircase and up two at a time, he ran. When he arrived on the second floor, girls lined the hallway in varying states of dress, from baby-doll nightgowns to sweats and T-shirts. One girl stood wrapped in nothing but a towel. All of them had one thing in common. They stared ahead, their eyes blank, their footsteps stilted like so many zombies in a horror film.

When Cal tried to dodge past one, she stepped to the side, directly in his path.

"Excuse me." He grabbed her by the shoulders and set her to the side, eager to clear the path to Deme's room.

Sounds of muffled screams and animal roaring drifted from the end of the hall where Deme stayed. Cal had to get to her. Something wasn't right.

"It's with her." The girl Cal remembered as the president of the sorority, Zoe, stood in front of him, dressed in a sheer nightgown that left nothing to the imagination, her blond hair hanging down over her shoulders,. "Wouldn't you rather have me?"

"No." He reached out to grab her arms, but she moved fast, closing in on him, wrapping her arms around his neck, her legs lifting to clamp around his waist.

He staggered with the surprise attack and the impact. As he struggled to pry her off his body, the other girls closed in around him.

The closer they came, the louder the roars from the room down the hallway.

He had to get past these girls and get to Deme.

Cal pried the legs from around his waist. As he worked at the arms clinging to his neck, Zoe wrapped her legs around him again. For a thin young woman, she had surprising grip and strength in her thighs. She squeezed her legs together, making the contact more painful.

This time Cal pulled her arms free and jerked one up behind her, then with his free hand, he got one leg free and slung her around, knocking several of the girls aside in the process.

With little gentleness, he pushed and shoved the young ladies out of the way and raced for the end of the hall.

"Deme. Let me in," he called through the door.

Guttural growls were the only response.

He pulled his master key from his pocket and inserted it in the lock. When he pushed the door to open, it pushed back.

Cal leaned his shoulder into it and the door flung open.

Darkness greeted him, the overhead light covered in a thick layer of what looked like moss. The walls had the same coating. The air was as thick, humid and dank as though he was deep in the rain forest, not a Midwest college dormitory.

The light from the hallway shone across the green algae-covered floor to the single bed in the corner.

Levitating above the thin mattress was a naked woman, long red hair splayed out as though charged with static electricity.

"Deme!"

Her body jerked, her back arching. She turned to face him, but her eyes were closed.

"Deme!" Cal rushed forward, stopping a foot away, unsure what to do, how to bring her back from wherever she was. "It's me, Cal," he said, his voice cracking. "Deme, what is it doing to you?"

One slender hand reached toward him.

He took it. "Deme, please."

Her eyes opened, the pupils golden, like those of a lion.

Cal staggered backward. This wasn't Deme, but it was.

"You can't have her," he said, his tone intense, almost as much of a growl as he'd heard from Deme.

Deme's body twisted and dropped to the mattress, then like a cat, she flung herself at him, her arms and legs wrapping around his body, clinging to him in a choking hold.

Cal struggled to breathe, no clue how to handle the possessed Deme without hurting her, but if he didn't get her to loosen up, he'd be the next victim taken by the Chimera.

"Deme." He clasped her cheeks between his hands. "Look at me." He gazed into her eyes, determined to make her see him. "You have to fight whatever has you."

The tension in her body eased a fraction. "That's what…Aurai…said." Deme's gaze softened, the irises more green than gold. For a moment, Cal thought she was back. Then a growl rose up from her throat and she dug her nails into his skin, her legs wrapping even tighter around his middle. "Take me." One hand raked over his shoulders and down below her bottom, where she worked the rivet on his jeans.

Cal covered her feverish fingers just as she loosened the button. "No, not like this." He raised her hand to his face and pressed a kiss to her palm.

She stared at the place where his lips had touched, as if mesmerized by the gesture, the gold irises fading into emerald-green. Until she blinked, her eyes narrowing, her lips curling back into a feral snarl.

Her tongue snaked out to lick a coarse path along his neck to his earlobe, where she bit down hard.

"Ouch!" Cal jerked away from her teeth. "I won't let you have her, damn it. She's mine." He dragged her face close to his, almost nose to nose. "I love you, Deme, damn it, and you love me, too." His voice was low, determined, insistent, begging Deme to come back from the hell the Chimera had her in.

Her legs loosened and her feet dropped to the floor. A broken sigh escaped from her throat and she was leaning into him. "Help me," she whispered. Her arms circled his waist where her legs had been and she pressed her face into his shirt.

"I'll help you, Deme. Just don't give up on me." He stroked her hair.

"It's stronger than me."

"No one is stronger than you."

Her body jerked, her head flung back, her eyes widening, the lion eyes back. Rumbling growls rose in her chest, her fingers curling into his skin.

"Fight it, Deme."

Her teeth clenched, her lips pulling back. "I am," she said through clamped jaws.

Thumbs slipped into the waistband at the back of his jeans, shoving them downward. He swatted at her hand, knowing it wasn't Deme doing this, but at the same time he couldn't ignore desire straining against his zipper. "Not like this. I won't make love to you when you're like this."

"You will," she said, her voice low and raspy, nothing like normal. Before he could stop her, her hands snaked to the front of his jeans, whipped the zipper down and shoved the denim downward.

His engorged cock sprang forward into her hands.

Despite all his attempts not to react, he sucked in a gasp and held it, teetering on the verge of knowing he should do the right thing, and wanting to slam into her, burying himself to the hilt.

Her hand wrapped around him, a slow smile rising on her lips, her golden eyes narrowing. She pressed her face into his neck, her breasts crushed against his chest, sliding across the fabric of his shirt.

Naked wouldn't be close enough. Cal groaned, resisting the overpowering wave of desire washing over him. He couldn't make her stop when she shoved his jeans down around his ankles, couldn't find the strength to halt the progress of her hand, sliding up his leg between his thighs.

She had him by the balls before he could voice even a mew of protest.

Breathing like a man topping a steep climb, he grabbed her hand, drawing it up to his chest.

The growl in her throat was only the beginning of her protest. She whipped her hand free and ripped his shirt in half from hem to chin. Clawlike fingers traced a line down his torso to the jutting member pressing into her belly.

"Not like this," he repeated like a mantra to her and himself. With every ounce of control he could muster, he smoothed a hand over her hair and along her neck. "When I make love to you, I want to make love to the Deme I know and care for." He pressed a kiss to her temple. "You, Deme. Not some creature from the Black Lagoon." He trailed his mouth along her jawline until he brushed across her lips. "Kiss me, Deme. Only Deme."

For a long moment, the woman in front of him remained poised, gaze on his lips, her irises crossing from gold to green and back to gold. Finally the green solidified, the pupils returning to normal.

Deme reached up to cup his chin. "Cal? When did you get here?"

He laughed low in his belly, his breath catching in his throat. "A few minutes ago."

She blinked, her gaze capturing his. "How did you get in?"

Cal cupped her chin with both hands and brushed his thumbs across her lips. "Master key." He bent to take her lips. "I'm glad you're awake."

"Was I sleepwalking?" She turned her cheek into his palm and pressed her lips against his skin. "I don't seem to remember."

"You were having a bad dream."

Her eyes turned toward the ceiling and the green moss coating it. "Am I still dreaming?" She moved, her breasts rubbing against his naked chest. "I must be. We're both naked." She smiled, a hand trailing over his shoulder and down his arm. "I like the way your skin feels against mine."

Cal wanted to laugh, cry and yell all at once. Deme was back, but she didn't remember any of what had happened only a moment ago.

Deme's hand continued downward to his hips, circling behind to press him closer. "Were you about to make love to me?"

"To you, yes." He did laugh and kissed her. "Only you, babe." He kicked off his boots, shed his jeans and came to her, hard and fast. The tension of fighting his desire fueled his passion. He lifted her. Unwilling to wrap her legs around his waist, he settled her on the solitary mattress, her legs falling over the edge.

She parted her knees, opening to him.

Invitation accepted, he drove inside her, burying himself deep. Her tight channel engulfed him, coating him with the juices of her own desire, only a moment ago fueled by a demon.

As he thrust in and out, the tension building, rising, bursting over the edge of sanity, he remembered what he'd told her to get her back. He loved her.

He still loved this woman. No matter what happened after they found Aurai and returned Colyer-Fenton to a safe place of learning again, he would always love her. Even if she didn't return his feelings.

Having bared his soul to her once, Cal had no intentions of doing it again. Deme had some kind of misguided perception about who she was and what he'd be willing to accept. Until she got over it, he'd do his best to keep his dreams of a white picket fence and children running around the house as just that. Dreams.

The more he stroked her inside, the more ragged his breathing ran. If he wasn't mistaken, the room temperature had risen at least ten degrees since he entered her. Perspiration slickened his body and hers until the smack of skin on skin sounded more like slaps.

Deme planted her feet in the mattress and rose to meet every thrust with one of her own, her hands clenching around his waist, guiding him in and out, faster and faster. Her eyes closed, her breasts bounced as she dug her nails into his buttocks and slammed him into her.

With his body strung so tight, Cal catapulted over the edge, so intent on milking every last sensation from his body and hers. As he drifted back to earth and to Deme, he sucked in a deep breath. "I've missed you."

Deme didn't respond at first, her eyes still closed. Then they opened and a smile slid across her lips, her bright gold, feverish eyes staring up at him. "I missed you, too."