Her Demon Prince (Forbidden Fantasy) (15 page)

Sheer, sharp
fright overwhelmed her. "It's like it's in my head.
A
sort of a whisper.
It's evil." An insidious vine of blackness
curled around her mind. She put her hands either side of her face and pressed
them to her skull. Was she going crazy? Little hairs stood up on her arms and
legs.

Agrat put his
arms around her, holding her to him. He ran his hands all over her body, not in
a seductive way but as if trying to sense something. "The vibrations are
demon energy. Galaden is using his demon force to hunt you." His lips
turned in a sneer. "He is too weak to do it himself."

"I can't
get the voice out of my head," she cried. Her heart began to hammer as a
sensation of crumbling from the inside made her cling to him.

He pressed her
face to his chest. "Focus on my heartbeat. I will try to shield you with
my energy, though demon power is insidious, difficult to vaporize."

Phoebe squeezed
her eyes shut, listening to the thump, thump, thump, of his heart.

"Phoeeebe.
Phoeeebe. Phoeeebe," the chant continued.

Terror gripped
her. "It's chanting. I can see it in my mind like a black wave coming at
me. I can't get away from it. It's like it's swallowing me," she cried as
she gulped for air. Her knees began to buckle underneath her. Only Agrat's arms
around her kept her on her feet.

"Fight it.
Believe in me. Believe in your own power," he urged.

"What
power? I'm not like you."

"Galaden
said your powers come from the Goddess of the North. Perhaps you are more like
me than you know," he said.

A sensation,
strong like armor, surrounded her. Agrat! The blackness receded though she
could still sense the tentacles reaching out for her, trying to weave their
evil around her and drag her down. Her whole body trembled as she fought it.

"Call on
your ancestor. Do not let the demon energy into your mind."

"I can't
work energy." Lungs heavy, she gasped for air, but it seemed as if she
couldn't get oxygen. Black spots appeared before her eyes. Her fingers gripped
his arms, her nails digging into him, needing his wholeness, his very essence.

"Goddess
power is in your bloodline. Call for her strength. Do it!" he ordered.

Mind reeling,
Phoebe fought to focus on an image of the warrior goddess, Freya, she'd studied
in art school.

""Phoeeebe,
Phoeeebe, Phoeeebe," the voice chanted.

"I can't
hold the image," Phoebe said, her voice high with panic. "This
thing's too powerful."
A blackness
surrounded
her, dragging her down, sapping her vitality, her very will to live.
Down, down, down
it pulled her.

"No! Don't
let it overpower you.” His arms tightened around her. “Take my energy. Use it
to link to the goddess."

A pulsing
sensation vibrated around her, touching her body and she could see a red haze
surrounding her. She sensed Agrat's love and protection, the essence of his
power and clung to it. She sucked in a deep breath. The voice receded, then a
fierce, warlike charge hit her, roaring like a lion in her mind as it filled
and strengthened her. Freya! Her whole body vibrated and twitched with the
force of it. The energy was electric, filling her core before zinging out to
her extremities, permeating her cells.

Phoebe released
Agrat, aware that the hideous sensation of fear had receded and an intense,
potent energy had replaced it.
Lively and fierce.
Moving her hands over her arms, she rubbed them, watching as a warm glow
hovered over where she'd touched herself. "Look at me. It looks like an
aura."

"My
beautiful princess. You have no idea what you really are. Conserve your
ancestor's gift of energy. It is poison to those who wish to harm you."

A crack of
thunder followed by fierce rumbles sounded near the house. "Hurry. We must
prepare for attack. Galaden's entities have located us." He took her hand
and led her to the bedroom. Grabbing his wrist guards with the secreted
daggers, he strapped one on to each of her wrists.

Agrat kissed her
face, her eyes,
her
mouth. "You have courage, so
intense, so vital. I knew it from the moment you rebelled against my father. If
anything comes near you, stab it. Entities cannot withstand the magic of the
daggers."

"And you?
What are you going to do?" she asked, practicing swinging her arms so that
the daggers slid from her wrist guards down into her hands. Her reflexes were
quicker than they'd ever been. Phoebe marveled at her strength. Although she
was stronger than the average woman due to her work as a sculptor, this sudden
ability was something else altogether. She couldn't believe she had this sort
of power.

"We are
moments away from night. I must recharge."

"I want to
fight, too," she said.

"No! I
won't risk you. I've helped you draw up the energy into your body in the way of
my ancestors, but you are not trained as a warrior. I don't know how much of
the goddess's energy your human body can take and there is no time to test it.
One fireball from a demon could kill you."

"But I know
more. It's like I have memories on how to fight that I've never had before.
Look at this. See that painting of the flower on the far side of the
room?" She took her dagger and threw it. It sailed across the length of
the room and imbedded itself in the center of the flower. She turned to Agrat,
elation bubbling inside her at her
new-found
knowledge
of battle skills.

Agrat gripped
her by the shoulders and drew her to him, his dark gaze intense. "I did
not spend three thousand years trapped in a statue so that you could risk your
life. The thought of you, your very essence, kept me wanting to live. I beg
you, Phoebe, do not join the fight. The land surrounding the house is charged
with protection. Lightning could strike you by mistake. I have not introduced
my ancestor to your energy and even if I did, I would not trust your life to
Lightning. Use the daggers to save yourself if anything gets past me and enters
the house."

Agrat released
her, strode over to the painting, extracted the dagger and returned it to her.

Before she could
protest, he walked to the bedroom window and looked out. A sheet of lightning
struck something outside. An eerie shriek followed the blinding white flash.
"They have come, but they will be no match for the Lord of
Lightning." He raced into the hall and she heard him moving from room to
room.

Wind shrieked,
swirling around the house. Overhead thunder rumbled like cannons. She stared
out of the window, watching as the last of daylight faded. The green landscape
took on an eerie hue and wind whipped the trees so they swayed like ghosts.

She heard
Agrat's footfall. When he returned, his face was grim as he stripped off his
shirt and jeans. Although he stood naked and magnificent, there was something
different about his stance. He appeared drained, his broad shoulders stooped.
"I have set seals on all walls, windows and doors."

She nodded, her
mouth too dry to speak. She grabbed a glass from the bedside table, filled the
glass with water from the bathroom tap and gulped it down to moisten her
throat. "You've drained your powers."

For
her protection.

"It is
moments until nightfall. I will beseech the Lord of Lightning for his blessing
and take what he offers."

"Beseech?"
Oh, shit. This was bad and he was determined not to let her fight. "Since
when do you beg anyone for anything?" Phoebe clutched his hands.

He looked down
on her, his gaze strained. "The Lord of Lightning is the beast of the sky.
I heard the legends from my nursemaid; my people rarely called upon him because
he could not be counted on to serve us in the faithful manner of our other
ancestors. I pray my noble liege will deem to protect me and strike my
attackers as I recharge."

"What if
you're hurt?" How could she get to him without being fried?

He gripped her
arms. "With you by my side I am able to charge faster and more efficiently
than ever before. I have to take the risk because I cannot protect you and
fight a whole army without the extra energy. Do not fear. While I still
breathe, no being will harm you."

The depth of his
love hit her with heart-wrenching pain. "I wasn't thinking about me. What
about you?" She didn't want to lose him. Love. What she felt for him was
love. With danger about to strike she barely had a moment to think about it,
yet the emotion was intense,
life-altering
.

He swooped low
and kissed her. "I have never had anyone care about me, except you. Rest
assured, I will come back."

He knew how she
felt about him. She was certain if it. Just the assured way he looked at her
told her so. "I'll be here." This time she didn't deny what she felt
for him. Love surged up inside her, filling her heart. This was her man.

Out of the
corners of her eyes, she saw a shadow move near the window. Every muscle in her
body clenched, ready for action, but before she could react, Agrat pulled her
behind him. A swirling mass of black energy stirred in front the window. It
started to form a shape.

“Phoeeebe…”

Phoebe tensed,
her gaze darting to the shape as the source of the disembodied voice moved
forward.

Agrat sent a
pulse of red energy through the window, not shattering the glass, though it
found the shape. The being exploded in a flash before it found form.

A sheet of
lightning followed, the fork dividing into white spears, sharp and deadly.
Sulfurous scent rose in the air. Several high-pitched shrieks rent the peace as
the spears found their prey. Agrat smiled grimly. "I welcome this battle.
I will destroy Galaden's army while he is too weak to fight himself and then I
shall go to annihilate him. He does not have our father to protect his worthless
hide now."

Phoebe fought
the urge to hold him back, knowing he was not a man to be contained.

Agrat strode out
the bedroom, into the hallway and out onto the front yard.

Hands pressed to
the window, Phoebe saw his silhouette planted like a crucifix, his face turned
upwards to the heavens. Lightning struck around him, illuminating the scene.

Then she saw
them. The sculptures. The forms she'd created from her dreams moving like an
army toward Agrat. The hideous faces she'd once thought harmless but had worked
on obsessively in the way of artists. She'd been recreating her nightmares, she
realized, to get them out of her system. The trouble was these beings were
real. Ghoulish eyes. Multitudinous shrieks rent the air as lightning blazed
around Agrat, the sharp forks jabbing the ground followed by explosions of rock
when the forks hit their targets.

"Lord of
Lightning fill me with your power," Agrat cried out, his voice sonorous.
He raised his arms high.

Lightning struck
like a spear, violent and greedy. It flared so brightly through Agrat that, for
a heartbreaking moment, Phoebe lost him in the intensity of the light. She
squeezed her eyes shut and forced herself to reopen them to search for him,
though the brightness almost blinded her.

Agrat's body
arched, his arms flung back like a helpless doll as lightning held him in its
savage grip. Fire scorched the grass, several trees exploded into flames. In
the distance, Phoebe saw the entities
freeze,
their
grotesque faces spotlit as they stared at Agrat. The prince's body rose off the
ground and became horizontal, rigid with electrical energy so intense that a
huge well of horror gripped Phoebe by the throat.

She watched,
impotent, her hands gripping the windowsill.
Her prince; her
love.

A crash exploded
above and behind her. Fear, rich and raw made her swing around, her dagger in
her hand. Envy towered over her, his hideous severed head under one hand, the
mouth gaping with fire. Don't look in his eyes, she thought. All she wished for
would not come true. Instead, her worst fears would become real. She'd go
crazy. She didn't know how she knew that but she did. The strange
déjà
vu
sensation rose over her like a wave. Perhaps it was too late for wishes because
the worst was happening. She wanted Agrat. Loved him, but Envy, the monster she
feared from her dreams was real. Above him a hole in the ceiling, wide and
littered with broken edges, showed her where he had broken through.

"Phoeeebe..."

He had found
her. Backed up against the window with nowhere to go, Phoebe surged forward,
knife extended. "You want me? Well you'll have to fight to get me."

Envy seized her
wrist and squeezed. The bones crunched but she refused to drop the dagger.
Phoebe grit her teeth to prevent herself from groaning as sheer, sharp agony
leapt from her wrist up her arm. Once she would have been on her knees begging
for release. Not now. Part of her couldn't believe that this form that she had
spent months carving hosted something so evil. The thought made her mad.
Furious. Dangerous. With a surge of energy, she flicked her other arm down
releasing the other secreted dagger and slid it home. It glided in like a knife
to bread, despite the demon's stone carapace.