Mark of the Demon (Kara Gillian 1)

“I am here.” The resonant voice filled the room.

My eyes snapped open. I’d actually fallen asleep? I sat up quickly. Hot damn, it worked! I thought, with a mixture of elation and relief.

He stood at the foot of my bed, motionless, head lowered and azure eyes drilling into mine. An eerie pale light surrounded him, shimmering like hot asphalt, coming from nowhere and everywhere. He didn’t move, and my elation began to shift to uncertainty as his aura touched me. I didn’t feel the killing rage and fury that I’d experienced before, but there was a simmering intensity about him, a disdain and slow wrath that sent a crawling unease through me. This was far different than any prior dream visit.

“I … I’m glad you are here,” I said hurriedly.

He remained silent, but it felt to me as if the menace in the room increased a breath. Was I just being paranoid? He’d never been threatening to me in any of the other dream visits. I gulped. “I, uh, could use your help … please. We have another body that has runes on it … and, well …” I faltered as his continued silence and intense regard began to unnerve me. I took a deep breath and forged on, despite the sick feeling growing in my belly. “Well, we—I was wondering if you could tell which demon left the markings.”

He growled low, and the hair on my arms stood on end. Shit. This was not going at all the way the previous encounters had.

“You defy me, defy my desire to be called to you in the flesh,” he snarled, eyes flashing with deadly intensity, “yet you still expect me to serve you?” His lip curled. “Under your terms?”

Shit. “No. No!” Shit shit shit. “Lord Rhyzkahl, I meant no disrespect—”

“Did you not?” The words cracked out like a whip. He took two steps toward me, and I found myself drawing back against the headboard in instinctive reaction to his anger. My heart slammed in my chest. I was an idiot! All of my harping about how important honor was, and here I was trying to find a way to get around it, to get the lord to do what I wanted.

“Did you not?” he repeated, voice low and just as threatening. “You think to bid me here, under your terms, thinking to have the advantage of me.” He closed the distance between us in a move that was too fast for my eyes to follow, then seized me by the throat and pressed me back against the headboard. I gave a strangled cry and clutched at the hand holding me, but his grip on me was like iron.

“You thought to have the use of me,” he purred, the gentleness of his voice in stark contrast to his hold on me. “Use of me in a manner that was safe. A visit to your dreams.”

I clutched at the hand on my throat, struggling to hold back the whimper of terror. He wasn’t choking me, at least not yet, but his grip was implacable and unmovable. Holy shit, but I’d been an idiot! This was the true Demon. A powerful creature who took great offense at being summoned to serve.

A beautiful smile spread across his face. “And now I will show you the folly of that decision. You called me to your dreams.” He laughed, a lovely sound with a vicious edge. He leaned close and whispered against my cheek. “You called me, Kara darling.”

My eyes went wide. No, it couldn’t be! I’d merely kept my thoughts on him as I’d fallen asleep. Hadn’t I? Had I actually called him? Or was my aunt mistaken about how it worked? Tessa had said that he had to be called with intent…. I swallowed painfully against the grip on my throat. Did Tessa really know? Had the intent for him to come to my dreams been all he needed?

“You do not know, do you?” he said, voice melodious as I struggled against his grip. “You cannot be sure if this is dream or reality. Either is possible.”

“Please,” I rasped. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Lord Rhyzkahl. Forgive me.”

“I do not serve you, little summoner.”

“No, no, you don’t.” I gabbled the words out, mind racing. If he was here in the flesh, could I actually dismiss him? Would a standard dismissal even work? A standard summoning sure didn’t. If only I’d had time to study such things! But I hadn’t really expected to encounter such a situation. I hadn’t ever intended to actually call him to me.

“Kara!” The door flew open and Ryan burst in, gun in his hand. “Kara, I heard …” His voice trailed off at the sight before him. I knew what he was seeing and feeling. The surreal light, the beautiful visage, and most of all the powerful and overwhelming essence of him. Ryan paled and staggered back a full step before recovering. “Holy Mary Mother of God,” he whispered.

He’s Catholic? The insanely out-of-place thought came to me even as I renewed my struggles against the grip on me. “Ryan! Run!” I cried out. “You can’t hurt him!”

Ryan’s eyes flicked to me, then came back to Rhyzkahl. He lifted his gun, holding it with both hands and sighting carefully. “Let her go, asshole,” he said, voice quavering only barely.

Rhyzkahl’s eyes narrowed to azure slits as he regarded Ryan. “You have not the means to stop me.”

“Ryan,” I gasped, “the gun won’t do you any good. Just fucking run!”

Rhyzkahl laughed, then began to slowly tighten his grip on me, his eyes on Ryan. I coughed, scrabbling frantically at the hand as my breath was constricted.

“Let her go!” Ryan shouted, stepping farther into the room, gun trained on Rhyzkahl.

No, damn it, Ryan, I thought frantically. Just run!

Rhyzkahl merely smiled and tightened his grip.

Ryan shot a quick glance to me, then looked back to the Demonic Lord. “You were warned,” he said, voice steady now.

The sound of the gunshot slammed through the small room, and a picture on the far side of the room exploded into fragments. But I knew the bullet had passed through Rhyzkahl’s head.

And left no damage in its wake.