Chapter 434: Demetrius Strong
He crouched in the back of the small closet, amber eyes alight with fire, body hunched and scrawny. His thin hands made grabbing motions before him as he smiled at me, white teeth flashing. The man who had led the Chosen, the powerful sorcerer who had tried to kill me twice and almost succeeded, was as wasted and pathetic as his followers.
"Demetrius." The last time I'd seen him, he'd fled with Batsheva. "Where's your mistress?" If that old (b)witch was in on this, I'd be more than happy to make sure she ended up minus a head.
He shuddered violently, tears welling in his eyes though his grin, now manic, never faded. "She's gone, gone, gone, gone." He shook like a dog coming out of water, falling to his backside and kicking his feet against the floor, dirty flip-flop sandals flying free. I winced, seeing him crack and break, knew, though he had been mad before, he was now truly insane. His previous madness at least lived behind a veneer of absolute civility, an almost cheerful crazy that creeped me out. This was worse. Not because it was icky, but because it was so gaping and raw, his mind an open wound in front of me, one that would never heal.
He crawled forward on his hands and knees, looking up at me with the rictus of his smile firmly in place, snot and tears mingling on his red cheeks, tracking through dirt and over what looked like old bruises. A scar ran from under his right eye, down the side of his face to curve in a crescent, pulling the corner of his mouth askew. I backed off a pace as he emerged into the light, blinking and smiling and shaking.
"Are you hiding from her?" I could see why, if he'd broken down like this in her care. Batsheva would simply kill him if he was no longer of use to her.
"Evil," he whispered, eyes wide again, innocent almost, as he clutched at my pant leg. Charlotte shoved him off with one foot, her distaste clear on her face. He whimpered and backed away, holding himself as he crouched at my feet, still weeping, still smiling.
"She is evil." Nice he finally saw it, even if he had to go bonkers first. "Where is she?"
He shook his head suddenly, a high-pitched whine coming from his throat. "Nonononononononononono." Demetrius pointed one finger at me, his black nail cracked and broken. "No more of her. No."
Okay then. I could let Batsheva go for now. But here at least I had a source, if I could break through his insanity, of another crystal. And though my disgust almost did me in, I sank to my haunches next to him and met him on his level.
"Demetrius," I said. "What do you know of the Brotherhood?"
Again fear, but not as powerful. He sank back, a puppy kicked one too many times. "Can't go near them, not ever. Not ever. Not anymore."
So he did know them. "You worked for Belaisle, didn't you?"
He shook his head, a spark of rage in his eyes. "Never. She is evil. He is despair."
Lovely. Someone worse than Batsheva Moromond.
Demetrius reached for me again, slowly this time, his smile coming back, head tilting from side to side as he did. I shooed Charlotte off, let the former Chosen leader stroke the back of my hand with his fingers, the barest touch, feather strokes, though my need for a shower just increased tenfold.
"Please," he whispered, the sound still oddly piercing, sharp and jagged in his need. "Please, will you fix me?"
It took me a moment to understand what he meant. I couldn't heal his mind, could I? But when my demon roared her denial, I knew then she'd figured it out before I had.
She'd punished him for trapping her, for stealing some of her power for his crystal. When we'd defeated Demetrius and left him behind at the mansion for his people to find, he'd been in the physical guise he still wore. Black horns, one chipped, the shine long gone, peeked from his silver hair, his red skin mottled and pale rose in places, the demon version of gray. She'd made him look like her, the only way she had to ensure his people would reject him, maybe even kill him.
But he'd somehow escaped them, and now I knew not all of the Chosen saw him as the enemy. Maybe at first, but the fact he found refuge with the remains of his sect told me they were desperate for leadership, even from someone as shattered as Demetrius.
"You want to be human again?" I thought about it even as my demon turned her back, crossed her arms over her chest and pretty much told me where I could shove my willingness to consider it. I hardly blamed her.
More tears, more snot. Seriously? I was going to stand under hot water until I cooked.
"Lovely, kind, generous one," he continued his light caress. "Fix me?"
"What do I get if I do, Demetrius?" No way was I going to battle with my demon if there wasn't something in it for me. And the feeling I had he knew more than he was saying about the Brotherhood was confirmed when his face compressed, a nasty smirk replacing his openness.
"Anything," he whispered. "Everything."
Quite the offer. But could he, in his condition, deliver?
"I need a crystal," I said. "Like the one you used on me."
His head bobbed immediately, Adam's apple bouncing in time as his throat constricted.
"Yes, yes. I get you anything, all of it, you want it, you have it." He cackled suddenly, falling back, rolling over on his side, giggling and rocking himself while his bare feet scrabbled on the floor. Charlotte firmly grasped my arm and pulled me up, back, putting herself between Demetrius and me.
"Will having one help me against the Brotherhood?" If he could give me the answers I needed, be my secret weapon, this trip would pay off big time.
Demetrius straightened, saw my bodywere between us and whined softly. "Mistress," he said, sing-songing the word and the ones after. "Trust me. I'm not your enemy." He reached for Charlotte who bared her teeth at him. He shrank back, but not far, easing forward again when she stopped. "Let me help you, you be my new Mistress?" Demetrius laughed, a horrible sound full of crazy.
Oh crap.
"I'll make you one, a crystal, the perfect one. Kill Belaisle, kill them all." Demetrius stood up, hopping around in a circle, one foot to the other. "Make my Mistress the most powerful Mistress in the. Whole. Wide. World." He stopped, stared at me with his manic amber eyes. "Fix me?"
I could have lied to him. Said I'd do it. But my heart constricted, my conscience weighing on me. We'd done this to him, as horrid and evil and nuts as he'd been before. This crumpled remnant of what used to be a human being was my responsibility. And if he could deliver what he promised, if I could find a weapon that would ensure we could defend against the Brotherhood, it would be worth it to give this pitiful creature back what he longed for.
Only one problem. My demon. Sigh.
Come on, I sent. He's suffered enough. And we need him.
Silence. Cold and yet burning at the same time as she slammed up a wall and drove me back.
You achieved what you wanted. He's in pain, endless pain. And even if we turn him back, he'll never recover. You know that.
Chuffing breath. Absolute fury.
Sometimes being more than one person really sucked.
Consider, the vampire core of me spoke up, surprising me when she did as she addressed my demon. The transition could be made painful.
That got her attention. The wall came down at least.
That's kind of sick, don't you think? My stomach rolled around a little at the thought of causing suffering on purpose.
Naturally, it made my demon even happier. Not happy, nope, nope. Just happier.
Even more shocking? We could ensure when the transformation is complete, every moment is agony, Shaylee spoke up. Shaylee. Who never spoke up.
And when did she become so bloodthirsty?
Their support was enough, turned out, even though I could only splutter inside my own head while the three of them plotted their nastiness.
My demon turned back and snarled her consent.
We all really need to have a serious talk, I sent to them. When this is over.
Still fighting my stomach and the fact I harbored some seriously cruel people inside me, I refocused on Demetrius and nodded.
He practically fell over himself trying to get to me while Charlotte flung him backward, his weakened body impacting the wall across the room. I shoved her aside and went to him, reaching for his hand, pulling him to his feet while he whined and shivered.
"We need him, damn it." I met her eyes, saw the rebellion in them.
Hell no. The three hardheaded women sharing my existence might have been able to get away with it, but my bodywere didn't get that kind of slack.
"I mean it, Charlotte," I snapped. "Back off."
She did at last, though I caught the moment of hurt as it crossed her face.
Tough cookies, cookie.
"Fix me?" So pathetic. I glanced back at Demetrius whose amber eyes begged me. Yeah, like I'd be turning him back any time soon. No way I trusted his crazy ass, not until I had what I wanted.
"Crystal first," I said. "Fix you after. Deal?"
He bobbed his head, grasped my hand, kissed it.
Now I needed boiling water, an entire jug of soap and bleach.
We left Rosetta and the remains of the Chosen behind, stepping into the veil from the apartment. The little maid hadn't woken yet, and I had no desire to find out what kind of mood she'd be in when she did.
The veil sucked us in, Demetrius clinging to me all the way, stumbling as we emerged into the aging night on the soft grass of the library lawn. The air was so crisp and fresh I took a moment to fill my lungs, sniffing at myself as we walked to the door, finding I still carried an aroma with me.
Screw the soap. Bleach it was.
Though I hesitated to take the ailing sorcerer into Liam's cavern, I didn't want him out of my sight. While Galleytrot chuffed at me, his unhappiness with my choice as clear as Charlotte's, I stepped through the wards and into the cavern with Demetrius still clinging to my hand like a lost and terrified child.
The moment we passed through, I felt it, the sharp spike of fear in Liam's power, tensed as he emerged from the archive with Meira and Owen beside him. My Sidhe friend's face told me what I needed to know, though Owen's tear-streaked cheeks cinched the truth around me like a noose.
I groaned, shaking my head, as Liam spoke.
"I'm sorry, Syd," he said, voice shaking. "I don't know how it happened. One minute she was there, the next..."
"It's my fault," Owen said, voice steady. "I should have been watching her, too."
"Damn it," I said. "How long has Trill been gone?"
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