Home>>read The Demon Within (A PeaceKeeper Novel Book 1) free online

The Demon Within (A PeaceKeeper Novel Book 1)(47)

By:Stacey Brutger


Still asleep Ruman turned on his side, his arm reached out to her empty side. The urge to crawl back into bed was a physical ache gnawing at her. A bad omen ran through her that if she left, nothing would ever be the same again. She shook her head at the foolishness. It had to be the demon trying to play tricks on her, trying to pull her away from her duty.

Firming her resolve, Caly moved her pillow and carefully placed it under his arm. He curled around it, inhaling deeply, and sighed, slipping further under the Sandman's spell. The sight made her stomach flip-flop wildly. Watching him alone in her bed, she cursed Henry for interrupting.

She wanted to steal back under the covers and wake him with a kiss. To fight the urge to do just that, she snatched her shoes, and backed out of the room. The door closed behind her with a soft click.

The feeling of unease increased.

Someone cleared their throat. Caly whirled, her hand dropping to the small two-inch blade tucked into a sheath hidden in the waist of her pants. She was already swinging when she recognized Jarred. The blade stopped inches from his throat. "Don't do that. You know better than to sneak up on me." Eyes lowered, she sheathed her knife, hands shaking at the near miss.

She'd been so wrapped up in her emotions, she nearly killed him. Oscar had always warned her to keep everything locked tight. Could this be what he meant? That if she lost control of her emotions, those around her would be in danger?

"I could've killed you." The stark reminder was more for her than him.

"It seems we both live a bit dangerously these days." Jarred raised a brow and gave a pointed look to the door behind her.

Caly turned on her heel and marched down the hall, shoving all her emotions back into the deep, dark place where they lived with her demon. "Spit out what you mean to say and be done with it."

His footsteps followed and the silence stretched. "Just be careful."

"Yeah, I know-"

"No." Jarred snagged her arm, forcing her to meet his gaze. "You're the cornerstone of this organization. Without you all of us would either be dead or worse. Don't let all your work be for nothing. This fight is a long way from being over."

Heat billowed through her, and she clamped her hands on her hips to keep from strangling him. She reined in her anger and spoke as calmly as she could. "Did you ever wonder if maybe we weren't meant to battle alone? If we partnered up with the demons' willing to help, we'd have a much better chance at winning?" Not waiting for a reply, Caly thudded down the stairs, and stalked toward Henry's room.

Did she believe what she said?

Maybe. She trusted Brie.

Did she trust Ruman?

"Until you rely on the wrong one," Jarred called from behind her.

Caly glanced back at him and raised a brow. "Unfortunately, demons don't have the corner on betrayal." Shoulders back, she entered the spare room Jarred had commandeered for Henry.

"I wasn't sure you'd come."

If it was possible, Henry looked worse. Half of his hair had fallen out, leaving behind scraggly tuffs of spindly strands. His paper-thin skin showed his veins like bruises. His eyes were sunken. He'd lost so much weight, his bones protruded from his frame while his skin seemed to slough off his body. The smell of dry, rotten husks filled her nose, and she choked back the gagging sensation.

"Of course I would." She sat in the chair next to the bed. Careful not to hurt him, she picked up his hand and tried not to recoil from the dry, brittle flesh. "She really sucked you dry, didn't she?"

His laugh turned into a hacking cough. "Yeah, you could say that."

Mindful of his frailty, she helped him take a sip of water. The excitement seemed to exhaust him. "Are you-"

"Fine." He coughed again. "I'm fine," he wheezed, "as much as possible under the circumstances."

A tinge of compassion darted through her, but only a little. She'd known him far too long to believe he'd changed. Next week, he'd be up and around, harassing her again.

"I want to see the medallion."                       
       
           



       

It wasn't a request. That Henry resorted to begging put her on edge. Suspicion darkened her mind, but she wanted to see what he'd do with it.

It took her less than a minute to retrieve the piece. With the chain tangled in her fingers, she let the three-inch medallion drop to dangle in the air. The disk spun as the chain swung back and forth. Light reflected off the metal, shimmering like something inside responded to her touch.

Henry reached out a shaky hand. Caly hesitated, gave him a hard look then lowered the medallion. The chain rang against the golden disk as it slunk to the mattress.

His outstretched fingers closed reflexively around the piece. The greed and possession she saw so often came and went in his eyes. A smile crossed his face and faded. "You were meant to have it." He never once lifted his gaze from the disk as he spoke.

"The disk?" Caly stared at the man on the bed, baffled by his behavior.

Henry shook his head. "Both the leadership of the group and the medallion. I thought I might find something I recognized, something Felicia let slip that could help us." A disappointed grimace came to his face. "Nothing."

"I'm sorry." Caly spoke softly, but something in what he said nagged at her, the ability to see something that wasn't actually there.

"For?" The snideness in his voice was pure Henry. "Me stealing the leadership, back-stabbing you, leaving you to die or you stealing my medallion to keep it safe and the group alive?"

Caly swallowed hard at his so very Henry-like apology. "Sorry Felicia wasn't the woman you wanted her to be."

"But she was." He gave a wiry smile. "If only she'd been human."

Caly rose as he nodded off, exhaustion etching lines on his face. He seemed to sink into the mattress.

Unwilling to hide the medallion in the same spot, Caly slipped the disk from his clenched fingers and removed the chain. She racked her mind for a solution, her fingers manipulated the metal between her fingers like a giant coin trick when what Henry said struck her.

"That's it." Caly bit her lip as Henry shifted on the bed. She eased out of the room and headed to the library. Oscar called her a menace when she first came to live with him. As a form of punishment, he had her make wax copies of every headstone in the old graveyard. The cemetery hadn't frightened her. She knew where evil resided and it wasn't in the centuries-old cemetery long forgotten by man.

The exercise taught her patience. And surprisingly, she had a knack for it. Seated on the floor behind the desk, Caly pulled open the bottom cupboard of the hutch. Hopefully, she still had a few wax pages left that weren't too brittle with age.

"Jackpot." Shoved in the back rested an unopened tube. Digging further, she found an old aerosol can with the fixative. From the weight, she estimated half of the adhesive product remained. Enough to preserve the page.

From the recesses of the cupboard, she removed a small tackle box where she'd kept her supplies. Five years of dust coated the surface, and she brushed off the top. A cough wracked her, and she waved a hand in front of her face.

It was time to get to work. The medallion looked relatively clean and she bypassed the cleaning brushes. Taking a towelette, she dampened the cloth and cleaned the surface, careful to reach every dip and crevice. Memories of the hours she spent at work came back to her.

Immobilizing the disk, Caly carefully drew out the sheet. As a test, she began with the back. The metal felt smooth, but experience taught her wax would find details where touch failed.

Taping the edges down, she pressed the wax paper lightly over the piece to avoid blemishes. Using charcoal, she circled the edges first then proceeded to fill in the frame, coloring them darker with long, even strokes.

Charcoal covered her fingers when she sat back to view the finished product. "Damn." What appeared blank to the naked eye actually held an image. Tilting her head, she saw a code take shape.

With more care, Caly started the process over with the front. The slight ridges and depressions made it more difficult, but she was satisfied with the result. In a steady hand, she sealed the charcoaled wax with the spray, waited for it to dry and removed the tape.

Not bad.

Caly picked up the medallion. Where to hide it? She carefully stretched out her leg, groaning at the stiffness, wiggling the feeling back into her toes when an idea caught her.

She quickly untied the laces and toed off the boot. Tipping it to the light, she studied the satin lining.

Perfect.

She grabbed her belt knife and made a small slit in the lining. The thought of replacing another piece of clothing made her wince.

Muscling the metal into the small opening, Caly shook the boot until the disk shifted to where it wouldn't be uncomfortable to wear and still fight.                       
       
           



       

Once done, she laced her boot back into place and smiled.

Anxious to talk with Ruman and find out what the message meant, she snatched up the sketch and peeled up the stairs.