Tempting The Dark

This had to be hell. But Savin honestly didn’t know why they were here. Had they died? They hadn’t encountered people. But they did see humanlike beings. Strange creatures with faces and appendages that morphed and twisted, and some even had wings. None had spoken to them in a language they could understand.

“I want to go home,” Jett said on a tearful plea.

Savin hugged her close, as much to comfort her as for his own reassurance. He wanted to go home, too. And he wanted to cry. But he was trying to be brave. He’d hand over all his Asterix comics right now if only they could be home in their own beds.

“We’ll get out of here,” he murmured, and then clutched Jett even tighter. “I promise.”

* * *

They tried to drink from the stream that flowed with orange water, but it burned their throats. Jett’s tears permanently streaked her dirtied face. Her eyes were red and swollen. Her hands were rough and darkened with the gray dust that covered the landscape, and her jeans were tattered.

Savin had torn up his shirt to wrap a bandage about her ankle after she’d cut it on what had looked like barbed wire. But after she’d screamed, that strange wire had unfurled and slunk away.

They sat on a vast plateau of flat gray stone that tended to crack without warning, much like thin ice on a lake. No other creatures seemed to want to walk on it, so they felt safe. For the moment.

Savin had fashioned a weapon out of a branch from a tree that had appeared to be made of wood, until he’d broken off the branch and inspected it. It was metal. That he could break. But the point was sharp. That was all that mattered. He’d already killed something with it. An insect the size of a dog, with snapping mandibles and so many legs he hadn’t wanted to count them.

“Do you hear that?” Jett said in a weary whisper.

Savin followed the direction she looked. An inhale drew in the air. For some reason it smelled like summer. Fresh and...almost like water. Curious.

“I miss my mama and papa,” Jett whispered. She shivered. She shook constantly. They hadn’t eaten for days. And Savin’s stomach growled relentlessly. “If I die, promise me you won’t let one of those monsters eat me.”

“You’re not going to die,” Savin quickly retorted.

But he wasn’t so sure anymore.

Jett stood and wandered across the unsteady surface, wobbling at best. Savin thought to call out to her, but his lips were dry and cracked. He wanted something to drink. He wanted his feet to stop burning because he’d taken off his sneakers after the rubber soles had melted in the steel nettle field. He wanted safety. He’d do anything to escape this place he’d come to think of as the Place of All Demons.

“I see water!” Jett began to run.

Savin couldn’t believe she had the energy to move so swiftly. But he managed to pick up his pace and follow. She was fifty yards ahead of him when she reached the edge of what looked like a waterfall. Actual water?

“Jett, be careful!”

But she didn’t hear him. And when she turned to wave to him, all of a sudden her body was flung upward—as if lifted by a big invisible hand—and then her body dropped.

Savin reached the edge of the falls and plunged to his knees. He couldn’t see Jett. Her screams echoed for a long time. And what initially looked like clear, cool water suddenly morphed into a thick, sludgy black flow of lava that bubbled down into an endless pit. He couldn’t see the bottom.

“Jett!”

* * *

He lay at the edge of the pit for a long time. Days? There was no night and day in this awful place, so he couldn’t know. After he’d decided that Jett had died in the lava, Savin had vacillated between jumping in and ending his life, and crawling away. No one could survive such a fall. Perhaps that was for the best. He hoped she hadn’t suffered. He hoped she was in heaven right now, happy and safe.

But as much as he wanted to give up, he also didn’t want to die.

Savin finally crawled away from the lava falls. He hadn’t the energy to stand. He’d lost his walking stick in the lavender field. The next creature that threatened him? Bring it on. He didn’t like the idea of being eaten alive, but maybe the thing would chomp on his heart and kill him fast.

He crawled endlessly. Nothing tried to eat him.

Calluses roughed his fingers, and his T-shirt was shredded. He couldn’t feel his feet anymore. And his throat was so dry he couldn’t make saliva. So when he heard the voice of a woman, he thought it must be a dream.

Savin lay sprawled on an icy sheet of blackness that smelled like blood and dirt. Again, he heard the voice. Was it saying...help me?

It wasn’t Jett’s voice. Was it? No. Impossible. Though his heart broke anew over her loss, he couldn’t produce tears.

“Over here...”

With great effort, he was able to lift his head and saw what looked like lush streams of blackest hair. Was it Jett?

He crawled forward. His fingers glanced over something soft and fine, like one of his mother’s dresses. It was blue and smelled like flowers. A woman lay on the ground, blue and black hair flowing about her in masses that he thought made up her dress. He couldn’t get a good look at her face because he was too weak to sit up or stand.

“Do you want to go home?” the woman whispered.

He sobbed without tears and nodded profusely.

“I can help you out of Daemonia.”

That was the first time he’d heard the name of this terrible place.

“Please,” he rasped. “I’ll do anything.”

“Of course you will, boy. I ask but one simple thing of you.”

“Anything,” he managed.

“Come closer, boy. If you kiss me, I will bring you home.”

Kiss her? What strange request was that?

On the other hand...all he had to do was kiss the woman and he could return home to his soft, warm bed?

Savin pushed himself up onto his elbows and looked back the direction from which he’d crawled. He’d promised Jett he’d protect her. He’d failed. He should stay in this awful place as punishment. But he wasn’t stupid. And he wanted to see his parents.

“A...kiss?”

“Just one. And then you can go home.”

Savin crawled closer to the woman until he hovered inches from her face. She smelled like a field of flowers. Her skin was dark blue and her eyes were red, as were the eyes of all the creatures in this terrible place. He wavered as he supported himself with a hand and leaned closer.

And then he saw her lips.

Savin cried out. He tumbled to the side and rolled to his back. Her lips were covered with worms!

“Just one kiss, boy. Your parents are worried about you.”

Now a teardrop did fall. Savin gasped and choked as he could only wish for the safety of his parents’ embrace. And then...he forced himself to lean over the woman and kiss her awful mouth.

Chapter 3

He was called a reckoner now.

Savin Thorne sent demons who had come from Daemonia back where they belonged. He was hired to do so and rarely hunted them himself. He left the hunting for others. Once the demon was subdued or contained—usually in some style of hex circle—then he stepped in and worked his magic. A demonic magic afforded him, he believed, because of the demon within him. She had hitched a ride to the mortal realm when she sent him home following that foul kiss. He knew it was a female. And he could not get her out of him. He didn’t know her name, so had come to refer to her as the Other. He’d love to expel her from his very soul, but he’d tried every possible spell, hex and banishment without success.

He’d accepted that life from here on would be spent sharing his bones and flesh with the demon he’d once kissed out of a vile desperation.

Rain spattered Savin’s face and streaked through the headlight beams. The woman kneeling on the ground before him waited for his reaction. She’d called him by name. And her name was...

Mon Dieu, he’d thought her dead.

“Jett?”

She nodded, blinking at the falling rain. “I...I finally got out.”

“Finally...” Words felt impossible.

It was incredible to fathom. This frail, dirtied woman was Jett? All grown up? Had she been in Daemonia all this time? Twenty years? If he had known she’d survived the fall, he would have found a way to get to her, to rescue her from the unspeakable evils. Somehow.

Savin’s heart thundered. His fingers flexed at his sides. He didn’t know what to do. How to react. He should have been there for her when they were nine and ten and lost in the Place of All Demons. He’d promised her he would protect her. And he had failed.

Yet somehow Jett had survived. Had she escaped through the rift that had opened earlier? She must have.

She must be so... Twenty years! She had no home. No life. She had literally been dropped into this world.

“Jett.” Savin dropped to the ground before her, his knees crunching the wet gravel. Without reluctance, he hugged her to him. She was frail and shaking and they were both soaked from the rain. “I thought you were dead. Oh, Jett, I’m so sorry. It’s really you?”

He leaned back and studied her face. He remembered the sweet round face of the girl with the long black hair and the giggles that never ceased. Her eyes had been—Yes, they were brown. It could be her.

It had to be her.

“You’ve gotten so big,” she said, and then managed a weak laugh. “Yes, it’s me. Jett Montfort. I’m out. I’m... Oh, Savin.” She searched his eyes. Rain lashed at her pale skin and lips. “I want to be safe.”

“Of course. Safe. You are now. With me. I’ll...”

What would he do? He couldn’t leave her alone on the side of the road. She needed a place to stay. Clothes. Warmth. Food? How in the world had she survived in such a place for so long? It didn’t matter right now. She was frightened and alone.

“Will you come with me?” he asked.

“Where to?”

“My place. I live in Paris. I’ll help you, Jett. Whatever you need, I’ll help you to get.” And before he could regret another vow, he said, “Promise.”

She nodded, her smile wobbling and tears spilling freely. “Please.”

And when he thought to stand and help her up, instead Savin scooped her into his arms and carried her to the passenger side of the truck and set her inside. He tucked in her thin dress, which was nothing more than jagged-cut fabric clinging to her torso. She was covered with dirt and scratches, but the rain must have washed away any blood. She’d been hurt. Traumatized, surely.

She was a strange survivor.

And he owed her his life.

“You’re safe now.” He squeezed her hand, then closed the door and ran around to hop behind the wheel.

Legs pulled up to her chest and arms wrapped about her shins, she bowed her head to her knees and closed her eyes as Savin drove into the city.

* * *

What strange luck that her escape into the mortal realm should be met by the one person she knew and had thought of many times over the years. It couldn’t be a coincidence. And yet Savin was a part of the demonic world in a way that disturbed Jett. She’d watched as he stood before the tear between the realms and reckoned demons back to Daemonia. He was powerful. And dangerous.

To her, he could prove most threatening.

Yet in her moment of need, Jett had accepted his offer of safety. Because she was exhausted, tattered and worn. And yet triumphant. She’d done it! She had escaped to the mortal realm. And whatever happened next would challenge her in ways she couldn’t imagine. She had prepared mentally, but the physical challenges would be unknown. She owned a specific power. She could survive this new adventure.

As the truck entered the city, she watched headlights flash past in swift beams of red and white. It had been a long time since Jett had been in a cosmopolitan city with vehicles and buildings of human manufacture. She remembered Paris. The historical monuments and buildings, the gardens and sculptures. The elite shops and the River Seine. It hadn’t seemed to change.

She had changed. Everything she knew about every single thing had changed.

And Savin remained the one pillar she needed more than she could fathom. He’d grown older, as had she. He’d gotten big and tall. The man was a behemoth wrapped in muscle and might. His dark brown hair was still shoulder length and tousled, as it had been when they were children. But now he wore a mustache and beard and a brute glint lived in his eyes. He had become a man. A very attractive man.

Jett couldn’t prevent the frequent glances out the corner of her eye to the man driving the truck. She had not seen such a handsome being in...a long time. And he occupied every air molecule with his presence. He overwhelmed the space in the truck. Being near him made her heart flutter, in a good way. That was something it had not done since she was a kid.

But was this man now her enemy?

No. She wouldn’t think like that. She needed help from Savin. And possibly protection. Even though he was the one person she’d best run from, he was all she had right now.

When finally he parked the truck and jumped out to run around the front of the hood and open her door, Jett stared out at the dark building front where he said he lived. This was the fourteenth arrondissement. Not far from where she recalled a massive cemetery sat in Gothic silence amidst the bustling city. While she and Savin had lived in the country when they were children, their parents had alternated taking them into the city on the weekends to visit the parks and museums. Memory of those times made her heart again flutter.

Could she have back that innocence? Did she want it back? What was innocence but a foul waste of power? The darkness within her would not allow her to ruminate on the past for long. Just as well. Time to move forward.

Now Jett had ventured into the city again. With Savin. And he didn’t suspect a thing about her, nor had he asked how she had survived for so long in Daemonia. Which was how it must remain.

She slid her fingers against the wide hand he offered, and stepped down onto the sidewalk. Her bare feet were scraped and bruised from running across the vast smoke-ice planes where cracks in the landscape were edged like razors. Pain had become but a bother to her. Healing would come quickly. Perhaps. She must be cautious about utilizing the skills she had been taught.

“Your feet hurt?” Savin asked when she wincingly stepped forward.

Pain in this mortal realm felt different than when she’d been in the Place of All Demons. It was acute. And the cool air brushed her skin roughly. A shiver ensured that she had grasp of the sheen she wore. She must be cautious.

Without another word, Savin whisked her into his arms and carried her inside the building and up four flights of stairs without a catch to his breathing. Jett clung to the front of his shirt, noticing beneath her fingers the hard, sculpted muscles. And he smelled like nothing she had smelled before. Freshly exhilarating, yet rough. It appealed so strongly she nudged her nose against his shirt and inhaled. Was this what the princess felt like when rescued by the knight? How many times had they played such a game when they were children, always alternating who got to be the rescuer and who had to lie in dismay in wait of saving?

Now that game had become reality.

Why she had such a silly thought startled her. She had tried not to think about the simple human life she’d lost while in Daemonia. Too dangerous.

He set her down, yet supported her by the elbow, before a door. A door inscribed with demonic repulsion sigils. Jett knew them well. One did not live in Daemonia for so long without gaining such knowledge.

She tentatively reached to touch one of the symbols—and flinched.

“Keeps the nasties out,” Savin commented. “Necessary. But, uh... Hmm... You’ve just come from there. Must have some residual gunk on you that will alert the wards. Let me take them down for you.” He swept a hand over the sigils and muttered a word she recognized as a demonic language. He knew so much? “There. Now it shouldn’t tug when you cross the threshold.”

He pushed the door open. Cool shadows invited Jett to step inside the narrow loft as easily as if she were crossing the threshold of her childhood home after returning from a day at school. No tug from the sigils, either. Whew.

Behind her, Savin muttered a reversal to seal the wards and closed the door. That action did pull at her system, but she disguised the sudden assault with an inhale and a sigh.

When she saw him reach for the light switch, she said, “No. Uh... I can see well in the darkness. I, uh...think it will take a while to adjust to the bright.”

He lowered his hand. “Yeah, okay. There’s moonlight anyway.” He gestured to a line of windows that ran across the ceiling, skylights catching the moonlight. Pale illumination sifted down over furniture and the cluttered walls of a living area. “This top-floor apartment is small, but it has its perks. You thirsty?”

She was. And suddenly so cold, even though it had been warm outside. Jett rubbed her hands up and down her arms and glanced at the front door. No sigils on this side. Yet she was literally trapped now.

What had he asked? Right. She nodded. “Yes, water. Please.”

He retrieved a glass from a cupboard and Jett marveled at the clear, clean water running from the tap. She’d forgotten how pure things could be. Unadulterated by the darkness she had learned to caress and rely on for comfort. When he handed it to her, she held the glass for a moment, taking it in. So normal. She remembered when her mother would hand her a glass of water. Drink it down. On to the next adventure, like chasing rabbits through the cabbage patch with Savin.

“I’m not going to ask if you are all right,” Savin said. Deep and calm, his voice chased away her shivers. “You can’t be. You just came out of Daemonia. Maybe I should let you settle in and feel your way around the place for tonight?”

She nodded. “Please.”

“I bet a shower will feel great. Come this way.”

She followed him through the living room stuffed with dark, wood-trimmed furniture and saw many guitars hung on the walls. Amongst them she noticed more demon sigils scrawled on the bare-brick walls. Some glinted at her, but none seemed to notice her presence.

“I’ve only got one bedroom,” Savin said, “but it’s a king-size bed. Comfy. You can sleep in that tonight and I’ll take the couch.”

She didn’t want to put him out, but—at sight of the bed, lush with a thick gray coverlet and pillows—pillows! She’d not laid her head on a pillow for so long. Jett decided to quietly accept the generous offer.

Ahead, he flipped on the light in the bathroom and she blinked and stepped back. It was so bright.

“Oh.” He noticed her discomfort. “It’s on a dimmer.” He turned a dial and the light softened. “You can shower and there are towels in the cabinet. I probably have a shirt you can wear to sleep in. Does that sound good?”

She nodded again and realized she clutched the water glass to her chest. So precious, the clean water.

Savin rubbed his bearded jaw. His deep blue eyes beckoned her to wonder if they were real. Never had she seen such blue irises. Lapis lazuli, she remembered, was one of the stones she’d collected as a child. Though to consider his eyes now, they looked sad. Concerned.

“Tell me what you need, Jett.”

She didn’t know what she needed, beyond the temporary safety she felt standing before Savin’s powerful build. In his home. Behind the sigils that would keep out demons. Of utmost concern was keeping any and all of those sorts away from her.

“This is good. I will shower and sleep. I feel like I can sleep.” She rarely slept. To imagine lying for hours without nightmares? It seemed an impossibility. “You are too kind.”

“It’s not a problem. I’ll be out on the couch if you need anything. You’re welcome to wander about, help yourself to whatever appeals in the fridge. Just...uh, do what you need to do. Make my place your own. We’ll talk in the morning.”

Another nod was all she could offer. She didn’t want to talk about that place. Not right away. In order to move forward, she needed to put that experience behind her. To truly be free. But she was curious how Savin had escaped and how he’d come to be a man who reckoned demons out of this realm.

“Good night,” he offered. When he brushed past her, the heat of his skin shivered over hers.

Jett lifted her head and sucked in a breath. As she followed his exit from the room, the flutters returned to her heart and her skin flushed warmly. Was this what desire felt like?

Chapter 4

Savin did not sleep much that night. He lay there in the cool darkness, bare feet jutting over the end of the couch, thinking about the woman who slept in his bed not thirty feet away in the other room.

After watching Jett being literally sucked over the wicked lava falls in Daemonia, had he given up on her too quickly? Should he have lain there at the edge longer, waiting for her to emerge? He’d thought he had sprawled there for days. But he’d learned it was impossible to gauge time in such a place. He’d never cried so much as he had after losing his best friend. The remembrance zinged in his muscles with stinging aches and he almost thought to feel his skin burn now as it had then.

That harrowing experience had been seared into his very bones. It had become a part of him. It was him. It was the reason why he reckoned demons. Such creatures did not belong in this realm. No human should have to experience what he had lived through.

And now Jett was back. Alive, and seemingly sane. But how damaged must she be after living in that place for twenty years? He couldn’t imagine. The demons he reckoned to Daemonia were often vicious, wild, physically disgusting and, many times, homicidal. For a human to exist in such a place, and with those creatures, for any longer than he had survived there seemed incomprehensible.

Yet there existed demons of all sorts, natures and aptitudes, and some were even—surprisingly—benevolent. Edamite Thrash being one such example. Savin could only pray Jett had been guided and sheltered by one possessing a modicum of kindness.

He had so many questions to ask. Why had they gotten sucked into Daemonia? It was something he’d asked himself thousands of times over the years. Never had he gotten an answer. Might Jett have brought back that answer with her? He wanted to know, if she could tell him. But he must be careful with her, allow her time to heal and to adjust to the mortal realm.

Hell, he was thankful she was alive.

Hours later, the sun prodded Savin out of a snore. He rubbed a hand over his head and then his shaggy beard. He needed a shave. He tended to avoid the manscaping bullshit and suffice with a shower and comb. He wasn’t trying to impress anyone.

Except now a pretty woman lay in the other room. He didn’t want to scare her. Might be time to dig out the razor.

Rising, he tugged off the long-sleeved shirt he’d slept in and unbuttoned his jeans as he walked toward the back of the flat. There were no doors between the living room and bedroom, so he peeked inside before entering. Jett lay still and was covered by the sheet, so he quickly snuck through the room and into the bathroom, closing that door quietly behind him.

Turning to meet his reflection in the mirror above the freestanding porcelain sink, he sneered at the gruff man who rarely smiled back. How long had his eyes been so dark and sullen? Was that the appearance of a wild man or a scruffy hermit? He really had developed a lack of concern. Kept the demons back, he figured. They feared his appearance. Heh. Not really. That was what the sigils were for. Protection and repulsion.

He traced one of the finely tattooed sigils on the underside of his forearm. Composed of circles within circles and some directional arrows along with demonic repulsion sigils. Sayne, the ink witch who’d put the bespelled ink down, had promised him they would be effective against most demons. Of course, he could never be impervious to all because there were so many breeds of demons in existence.