Chapter 31

ANITA

Alow chuckle rumbles from the demon, amusement twinkling in his dark eyes. "A bit of both, I suppose, but unlike the others, I don't want you dead. The opposite, in fact."

He sinks into the chair opposite me, completely at ease as he casually crosses his legs. His massive frame should look comical with the way it dwarfs the chair, but his menacing presence dominates the room. I would almost believe his blasé attitude, if it wasn't for the way he drums his fingers on his knee.

"Cut the bullshit," I wheeze, my chest feeling tighter with each passing second. "I saw the other bodies. What do you really want?"

He narrows his eyes and rubs his fingers along his jaw, his gaze contemplative. The hair on the back of my neck lifts, and even before he opens his mouth, I know the cocky bastard is going to lie.

"Don't bother trying to tell me some sad story," I snarl, then wince when it emerges as more of a croak. "I'm a stubborn bitch, and I will allow myself to die out of pure spite."

A furrow appears between his brows, then he sighs and settles farther back into his seat. A tiny smile curls his lips, and reluctant admiration sparks in his eyes. "I wouldn't expect anything less."

With a heavy sigh, he threads his fingers together and rests them over his knee. "I'm not sure how much you know about the demon realm, so I'll lay it out in terms you'll understand. There are seven princes of Hell. We're each responsible for our own territories. War is brewing, and the conflict is threatening to spread to this realm. If the two realms collide, both will crumble."

Though beastlings have demonic powers, very few can actually pass between the realms. Most forsake their demonic heritage to live among humans, and I can't say I blame them.

In our realm, they are on the top of the food chain.

In the underworld, they are basically slaves.

Horror sparks through me at the thought of demons taking over. If that happened, the majority of the population would be killed outright, while the rest would just wish they were dead. "It would be anarchy."

My father doesn't have an altruistic bone in his body. It's much more likely he's afraid to lose his seat of power. As much as I want to despise him on principle alone, demons can't be allowed to infest our realm. "What do you want from me?"

He grunts, surveying me with narrowed eyes, then leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees. "Possession allows demons only a fraction of their power. Even with that weakness, they are stronger than most mages and beastlings. Get enough together, they'll be virtually unstoppable, and I suspect they are preparing for their eventual takeover."

A coughing fit catches me unawares. By the time it's over, I'm breathless, and my lips are speckled with blood. When I sit back, more exhausted than I've ever been in my life, I'm shocked to find my father standing before me, offering me a glass of whiskey.

I take it and toss it back without a word. The burn barely registers as the fever raging inside me hits a ravaging pitch. It's only a matter of time now. "Tell me the rest."

"When you have an eternity, time passes differently. Unfortunately, it's finally running out." He rubs his brow, then pours his own glass and downs it. With his back to me, I recognize the weary set of his shoulders.

He sets his glass down with an almost silent clink, then speaks without turning toward me. "You are half demon. It allows you to live in this realm and retain your full demonic powers. You'll be stronger than the minions sent to this realm, so you'll be able to help keep them in check."

I lived with people who would do anything for power, and I'm not swayed by it. I lift a challenging eyebrow at him. "That's why you created us. Didn't it kill the others?"

"Yes." He doesn't deny it. He rolls his shoulders, then turns toward me with his piercing eyes. "They were already dying. I tried to save them but failed. You're not as far along as the others, your deterioration slower. If you permit me a small indulgence, I think I can save you."

I'm not sure I believe him—I definitely don't believe his selflessness for a second—but the alternative is still death. "What do you want in return?"

"Your help," he says bluntly, planting his hands on his hips. "In return for saving your life, I want you and your men to police this realm. You will be in charge of hunting down the possessed and sending them back to the underworld."

I pinch the bridge of my nose, trying to figure out the trap, but come up empty. My mind just can't seem to grasp the enormity of what he's asking. Porter's shadows brush against the nape of my neck, and I hear him whisper in my ear, "Accept the offer."

I bite my lip, unable to get over the impression that I'm making a deal with the devil.

My father stands patiently before me, waiting for my answer, and I cross my arms to hide the tremble in my limbs. "And you'll leave me in complete control? You won't try to interfere with our work? You won't send anyone to kill me or my men if you don't like the direction of our investigations? All possessed who pose a danger will be targeted, not just the ones you want."

Looking like he's chewing glass, he reluctantly agrees. "You'll have complete authority. I'll send you information about rogue demons, but I won't interfere without an invitation."

There is only one reason he's conceding to my every demand. "I'm the last one, aren't I? The last of your surviving hybrid offspring?"

When the silence stretches awkwardly, I know I'm right.

I go over everything he's offering and come to one conclusion. The question isn't if I want the job, it's if I want to live.

My mind immediately goes to the guys waiting on the other side of the door, and I don't have to think about it twice. "What do you need me to do?"

A slow, proud smile crosses my father's face, and it's the creepiest fucking thing I've ever seen. Part of me can't help but wonder if I just sold my soul to the devil.

STRYKER

Much to my surprise, Jackal honors his promise. He leads the guards away, giving us a clear path to escape the underground bunker. Once topside, he orders the guards to the front of the property, leaving us to make our escape.

After we get Charlotte ensconced in the van, I shove myself into the tight space next to Gwen and glare down at the monitors.

The others haven't returned yet.

Granted, we got back sooner than expected, but I can't dismiss the sense of foreboding eating away at the back of my mind.

Something is wrong.

Turning away, I grab the closest weapons and begin loading up again. When my foot hits a black case under the computer station, I haul it out and flip the lid open. A dozen magical crystals gleam in the darkness.

Crystals are conduits, something about the stones' composition allowing them to hold magic. Anyone in possession of one can control the magic stored in the stone. I've read about them but never seen one. Few mages sell their crystals. Stronger mages hoard their powers like greedy misers, unwilling to share it with those who would use it against them. Weaker mages offer crystals for a steep price, but their powers are severely limited.

Not that non-mages care.

They'll pay any cost for even the smallest touch of magic.

From the power radiating off these crystals, I can tell they are no small trinkets. No doubt they are MID issued and cost a small fortune.

Without hesitation, I scoop up a handful and loop them over my head. I don't know what they do, but I'd rather have them and not need them than need them and not have them.

Darby grabs my arm to stop me, and I level him with a glare. He catches a blood-red crystal before it can settle against my chest and shakes his head. "Not that one."

He tugs it free, then carefully places it back into its slot before pointing to a bright yellow one instead. "This one."

I blink at him for a moment, note his little too wide eyes and shaky hands, then give him a nod of thanks. I grab the yellow crystal more cautiously. While I loop it over my head to join the others, I watch Darby lean over and kiss his sister's forehead before he turns and grabs his own weapons.

When we reach for the door, Gwen huffs in annoyance. "Sure, I'll watch over your sister while you guys go off on your murdering spree."

Noticing her sulk, I reluctantly peel off the M4 automatic rifle from my back and hand it to her. "If anyone approaches the van, shoot them."

Excitement gleams in her wide, dark eyes, and she eagerly snatches it up, then greedily hugs it to her chest. "Yes! Now this is what I'm talking about."

A fissure of doubt goes through me…until she expertly pulls back the bolt, chambering a shot, then flicks off the safety. With her too sharp teeth and gleeful smile, I'm glad I'm not on the other end of the barrel.

Darby jumps out of the van, and I quickly follow. Before slamming the door shut, he pauses and peers down at his sister with worried eyes. Gwen speaks before he has a chance to say anything. "No one will touch her. You have my word. Don't be fooled. I might be small, but I'm a lethal package."

The tech wizard gives a solemn nod, then touches his hand to his chest. "Thank you."

Gwen nods back just as somberly before a bloodthirsty smile crosses her face. "It will be my pleasure."

The rear door to the van closes almost silently, then we're moving back over the wall and across the yard. When we round the house, we come face-to-face with four guards. Darby reacts without hesitation, grabbing the yellow crystal from around my neck, snapping the leather cord with a sharp jerk, then tossing it at the beastlings charging us.

The magic hits them in a burst of light, and they slam into the ground in the next instant, none of them bothering to catch themselves before they land. When we step around them, one large man begins to snore, and my eyes widen at the strength of a spell that could knock out four beastlings at the same time.

Before we engage the twenty guards patrolling the front of the house, Darby grabs a blue crystal from me, then snaps it in half. Magic sweeps out in a shimmering wave, knocking out all communications and turning their radios into plastic paperweights.

A few of the mages curse when they sense the magic, and we sprint into action. It takes us close to thirty minutes to get through the rest of the guards and reach the house. Thankfully, the mages are prejudiced dickheads and didn't hire more than a handful of beastlings. It gave us the edge in the battle when we normally would have been blood smears across the lawn.

By the time the fight is over, we're panting and barely standing upright. Smattered in blood, battered, and bleeding from various wounds, we cautiously push our way inside the mansion. When we see the last five remaining guards lying scattered across the foyer, their broken bodies motionless, we stumble to a halt in the doorway and stare stupidly at the massacre.

I spy Cassius, Porter, and Soren a second later and snort when I see the three grown-ass men standing next to a door, their ears pressed against the panel like old biddies eavesdropping on some juicy gossip.

Another sweep of the room reveals no sign of Anita, and my fur stands on end.

Before I can demand answers, the door to the study is flung open. Anita stands on the threshold wearing just a shirt, and all the air whooshes out of me. Without waiting for the others to react, I sprint across the distance and gather her in my arms, only then noticing the ashen color of her skin.

When she doesn't protest being in my arms, just snuggles closer with a weary sigh, my worry increases tenfold.

She's sick.

I lean in closer, then the world just stops.

No, it's much worse.

She's dying.

My chest feels like it's caving in on itself, and my beast gives a pathetic whimper. Tormented by the thought of losing my mate, I clutch her close. It's only when she begins to fuss over me that I feel like a colossal ass. "What can I do?"

She winces, then looks up at me from under her lashes. When she speaks, her raspy voice is barely audible. "You're not going to like it."

I rub my cheek against the top of her head, needing the reassurance that she's still alive, and bite back a hiss when I find her skin nearly too hot to touch. "As long as you live, I don't care."

Famous last words.

That's when I notice the seven-foot fucking demon standing in the room behind her. Before I have a chance to freak the fuck out, Anita grabs my face. "The demon is my father, and he might be the only one who can save me."

I blink down at her stupidly for a second before I finally comprehend her words. Maybe I should be repulsed by her demon heritage, but I'm not. I love everything about her and wouldn't change a thing.

I don't want her anywhere near demons, especially one claiming to be her father, but if there is a chance he can save her, then it's a risk I'll take. Ignoring the others, I enter the room, not stopping until I'm in front of the demon, then I glare up at the menacing fucker. "She dies, you die."

Instead of laughing in my face, as he has every right to do, he grunts in acknowledgment.

Wasting no time, we all crowd into the office and get to work. We shove the furniture against the walls to make room, while her father pulls back the rug, revealing an intricate summoning circle etched underneath. To activate the circle, each of us donates fresh blood and sprinkles it over the symbols carved into the floor.

Anita willingly lies in the center of the circle, while her father gets down on his knees beside her. None of us like seeing her so vulnerable, and it's all we can do not to cross the lines on the floor and go to her. The demon scowls at us in annoyance, briskly explaining the reason for the circle for the third time. "I'm going to be calling upon a lot of demonic power. The circle is just to keep it contained and prevent it from infecting the rest of you."

With one last warning glare, he goes back to ignoring us. He removes his jacket, carefully folding it before setting it aside. Though tailored to fit, his white shirt barely keeps his massive form contained. Resting back on his haunches, he pins each of us with a scowl. "Whatever happens, don't break the circle."

A beat of silence barely passes before he looks down. I follow his gaze, and my heart threatens to burst from my chest when I see Anita has finally passed out. I take a step to go to her when Porter grabs my arm to hold me back. Before anyone can react, the demon lifts his hands over her still form, then hellfire bursts into the air around them.

The circle does nothing to contain the heat. It blasts through the room, and I flinch away from the intensity. Tears leak from my eyes, and I lift my arm up to brace against the flames. When my vision finally adjusts and the room comes back into focus, I can't process what I'm seeing.

Hellfire has completely engulfed Anita's small form, and I can barely make out her shape in the sweltering flames. A roar of denial rips from my throat, and I lunge forward, ready to drag her away from the madman we stupidly trusted.

Before I can get to her, Porter tackles me to the ground. I try to crawl toward her, but the fucker has me pinned. I'm unable to do anything but watch as the flames consume her completely. After an hour, her body crumbles to ash, and my heart goes with it.

The flames slowly die until nothing remains but a glowing pile of cinders and ash.

Anita is gone.

Her father leans back with a weary sigh, his shoulders bowed in exhaustion, his once pristine shirt sweaty and stained with ash. Whatever ritual he performed cost him, and savage satisfaction fills me that she took her pound of flesh from him before dying. I glare at the fucker with every ounce of my hatred. My beast takes over completely, and I snarl my rage at the bastard.

Porter uses his shadows to keep me pinned, and I slash and snap my jaws at him to no avail. Darby looks completely gutted. Cassius is as still as a statue, a lost expression on his face. It's Soren who captures my attention though.

He's Anita's mate.

He'll do the right thing and help me avenge her death.

The big man tilts his head one way, then the other, like his hellhound is listening to something only he can hear, a look of concentration on his face. My ears twitch, my snow leopard straining to hear what caught his attention.

Before I can ask what's happening, Soren's eyes widen, and he lunges forward, frantically digging through the powdered ash and hellfire. Cinders float in the air, but he doesn't stop, not until a tiny head pops out of the heated coals.

A small bird frantically wiggles, clawing and pecking at the heated ashes. Once free, she stretches out her black wings and flutters her feathers. The crust coating her small form cracks, revealing flames glowing under the plumage.

The bird is about the size of a hawk, but that's where the similarities end. Her black wings are edged with flames, wisps of black smoke and tiny sparks trailing into the air every time she moves. The crest on the top of her head fans out, revealing a bright yellow that shimmers with heat. With every breath she takes, a deep orange and red seems to flare to life and glow in her breast.

Her tail feathers are an ombré color, dark reds and oranges at the base growing a brighter yellow at the tips, until more cinders and smoke flick off her. While her feet are a dark orange tipped with black talons, her beak is a mixture of yellow and orange.

The creature is magnificent.

Her eyes swirl with molten heat as she blinks, then she cocks her head and peers around the room curiously. With her wings slightly flared, she glows in the dark.

"Anita?" Soren croaks hoarsely, tears shimmering in his eyes, making them appear like a molten silver.

The bird lifts her head and lets out a piercing shriek.

Without hesitation, Soren shoves the pile of ash and burning embers away, then scoops up the bird with an expression of awe and cuddles her to his chest. He coos at the little creature, delicately running a single finger down her head, and the bird eagerly brushes her face against him.

"Soren?" My voice trembles as I silently beg him for confirmation. Desperate hope fills my chest, and I pray he's not wrong.

"It's a firebird." He leans down and brushes his jaw over the top of her head, accepting her affection when she rubs her face against his in return. "I'm not sure how it's possible, but it's Anita."

The guys gingerly gather around the pair, their steps hesitant as they huddle around the fragile bird. I can't force myself to move, too afraid to hope. If they are wrong, I will lose the last bit of my sanity. My beast is already just a step away from turning completely feral.

When everyone begins fussing over the little creature, her molten eyes connect with mine. Crystal eyes stare back unblinking, the fractured orbs making it look like flames are flickering in their depths, and the mating marks between us burn.

It's her.

I'm across the room in an instant, my fingers gently brushing against the heated feathers on her chest, and my skin tingles at the contact. It's only when all five of us touch her at the same time that flames burst over the small bird, and Soren quickly catches a very naked Anita when she shifts back into her human body.

Porter's shadows immediately spill over her skin, covering her nudity with a flowy dress that wraps around her figure from chin to toe. Her eyes remain closed, and my gaze instantly drops to her chest. I stare, watching almost obsessively, counting each breath she takes.

"Did she change into a beastling?" Darby doesn't look away from her still form, her hand clutched firmly in his own, and I doubt he'll release her anytime soon.

When I glance up at the demon, I see him shrugging into his jacket, the prince impeccably dressed and groomed once more. He snorts at the absurdity of the question. "Of course not. The only thing I did was activate her demonic genes."

He glances at Anita, but his face gives nothing away. "She survived the transition that will allow her to use her newly awakened powers. She'll grow stronger and need to be taught how to use her demonic abilities."

Now that he got what he wanted, he dismisses her and turns to scan each of us with hard eyes that shimmer almost maroon in color. "I've held up my part of the bargain. Now it's your turn to make sure she lives to fulfill hers."

Without another word, he whirls and steps into the wall. Shadows burst across the surface milliseconds before he would have slammed into it, and he disappears into nothingness. The walls ripple like a pond, as if his body disturbed the surface, then it turns solid once more.

As much as I want to follow the bastard and demand answers, I refuse to leave my mate's side.

I just got Anita back, and that's all that matters.

I'm not foolish enough to believe this is over, not by a long shot, and I silently vow to do everything in my power to make sure nothing like that ever happens again…even if I have to kill a demon prince to do it.