Chapter 761: Demetrius Restored
Talk about a shock to the system. I gaped at the well-dressed and impeccably groomed man standing before me with a sweet smile on his cherub face. Though his hair was still white and softly curling, Demetrius's scar was gone, skin flawless. He looked at least twenty years younger, more Mom's age than the beaten, broken nutpot I'd known.
This Demetrius appeared much more like when we'd first met. Back when he was leader of the Chosen of the Light, the sect of fanatical magic users intent on destroying all those they deemed unworthy and unclean. Not his fault, I knew now, as much as I'd hated him then. Shattered and reassembled by Liander Belaisle, Demetrius's prior life had been as a Steam Union sorcerer.
A story I still didn't have the full text of yet. But hoped to one day. Because I knew it involved Gram somehow.
For now, it was wonderful to see him in his pale gray suit coat, clean white t-shirt beneath, dark jeans. He looked like a really cool college professor or internet mogul, not a dirty street person in a torn and stained shirt I'd tried to get him to change, ratty shorts and tattered tennis shoes he tolerated when his sanity was questionable.
Hair cut. Stubble free. Beaming smile.
Blast from the past. Minus the creep factor, much to my delight. I didn't think this Demetrius Strong was interested in burning me at the stake.
He reassured me I was right when he murmured his joy, reaching out to touch my cheek, blue eyes bright with moisture. "Syd," he whispered. "How radiant."
Blushing. I suddenly felt awkward and hideous, wishing I could just take the compliment. "Thanks," I said, though uncomfortable with my physical condition, unable to hold back my smile at seeing him again. "You too."
He laughed, a sound so full of happiness the nugget woke up and immediately cooed back. Demetrius's eyes fell to my tummy, though his sorcery remained firmly in control. "Congratulations, my very dear," he said, the edge of his sorcery touching mine with a feather-light stroke, touching the baby's. Demetrius's smile widened. "Remarkable," he said. Paused as his kind eyes rose to mine again. "Might I add to my salutations my utmost condolences on your loss. Liam was a wonderful young man who did not deserve the Fate assigned him."
If it hadn't been for my shock at his coherence-despite knowing he'd regained his sanity during the battle at the stronghold-I would have broken down into sobbing. I'd allowed sympathy before this, but minor, peripheral. More to benefit those who felt grief and needed to express it than for my own comfort.
But Demetrius's kindness and clear simplicity of condolence hit me harder than anything I'd yet endured. Thankfully, my surprise at seeing him after all these months cut short my hormone-ridden reaction-I blamed it on that, naturally, and not my grief lingering, waiting to be addressed-and allowed me to remain calm and lucid myself.
Instead of dissolving into a blubbering mess of sobbing pregnant woman.
Talk about an ugly cry.
"Thank you," I said, proud of myself my voice remained steady. Took his hand, felt his sorcery gently butt up against mine again in greeting as he squeezed my fingers ever-so-softly. "I'm so glad to see you." Really, really. Almost enough to break me down again. "Especially like this."
Whole. Sane. Himself again.
Demetrius's lips pressed to my cheek before he winked, a sparkle in his eyes. "There are many things for which I will apologize to you," he said as his own demons crawled over his face. "But those can wait, I think. For a time we two can sit and discuss matters when you are not so steeped in your joy." His face brightened as I almost tried to deny him. Knew I couldn't. It would disrespect his need to clear himself of his guilt. I would enjoy the talk, I suspected.
Demetrius continued holding my hand as his smile returned. "For now, I will only say I'm sorry it took me so long to return home again," he said. That surprised me, the fact he thought of this house as home. Also brightened my day a little more. "I've been busy making a certain sorcerer's life miserable."
A happy zing of spite zipped through me. Belaisle. Before leaving me on the stronghold plane, Demetrius told me to leave the Brotherhood leader and my old friend-turned-traitor, Rupe, to him. That the former Goth known as Blood and Liander Belaisle were his to deal with. And I had. Mostly because my pregnancy forced me to think of the peanut before myself.
And my revenge.
But seeing Demetrius brought it all back. Sure did.
With a fierceness that surprised me, I snarled and pulled on Demetrius's hand. "Is he dead yet? Tell me he's not dead yet."
The sorcerer laughed, clear and bell-like. "Don't worry," he said. "I promise we'll kill him together."
Awesomesauce.
Even the nugget seemed happy, mental voice giggling.
Made me pause and wonder if I was accidentally growing a smiling, cheerful psycho.
Had to get my act together.
"I've had the pleasure of talking with Eva Southway." Demetrius didn't release my hand, total comfort embracing us as Sassafras sat at my feet, listening in silence, amber gaze blinking slowly. "I've been welcomed back into the Steam Union." His voice turned suddenly thick, large blue eyes blinking a few times. "It's good to be home, Syd."
There was that word again. I understood the use now, though. Not necessarily here. But home, to himself. After decades under Belaisle's influence. Being someone else, an existence he had no choice but to live.
Home was his sanity. And the real Demetrius Strong.
Who was he, exactly? I'd seen glimmers when I'd first rescued him from the Chosen, still draped in the skin of a demon mine had forced him into. Restored him from. Had flashes of him as his gratitude shone through his insanity, his invaluable help despite the courage necessary and the hardship he endured telling me more clearly than words the kind of man he had been.
And the one who saved us all during the battle at the stronghold. The smiling man standing before me now.
I had no doubt I was going to be very happy to have him in my life again.
"I'm thrilled for you," I said, not sure what else to say as my heart churned with a wealth of emotions.
Demetrius bobbed a quick nod, as though knowing, understanding what I felt through those simple words. "Thank you. For everything." He swung my hand a little, an almost child-like motion, two friends in a playground sharing secrets, forming bonds. "For trusting me, back there. When I needed you to." At the stronghold. The hardest thing I'd ever done, releasing my power, my egos, allowing myself to be drained to empty when a man I knew to be broken begged me to let go.
Yup. All on the word of his crazy self.
My hitchhikers reached out to him and surrounded him with soft touches of their multi-colored flames in answer as I answered. "Always," I said.
His answering smile lit the whole basement.
"Such being said," he grinned at me, "I wanted permission to start a North American branch of the Steam Union." Demetrius finally released my hand, bending to stroke Sassafras's head as the silver Persian began to purr again.
"I thought there already was one?" Hadn't Piers told me there were Steam Union here on our continent already? That he was hoping to reconnect with them? Then again, he never did fill me in on why the two factions lost track of each other, either.
So many questions I'd let fall to the wayside in the last nine months. I loved the nugget with all my heart, but it really was time for both of us to be free after all.
I had a lot of work to catch up on.
Demetrius gently took my elbow, guiding me toward the stairs as Sassafras sashayed his way ahead of us. "There are," he said. "But this branch is a splinter group not interested in connecting. We're working on it."
We. Demetrius and Piers? Had to be.
I was very grateful for his steadying hand as we ascended to the kitchen together despite my irritation at being left out of the fun. Knowing the swelling boy inside me was the reason for me being left in the dark. Still.
The steps groaned under my weight, as if in agreement with my conflicting emotions. Yes, my head understood. But the rest of me was pissed.
Oh, and thanks for the reminder of my massiveness, stupid stairs.
"Maybe you should be asking Mom about forming a sect here." She was Council Leader, after all. I didn't really have any choice in the matter. Neither did she, come to think of it. But it would be courtesy, right?
Demetrius laughed as Sassafras opened the door with a push of energy, swinging ahead of us a few steps. His demon shape appeared for a flash, turning to smile down at me from the dear, young man's face I'd only known a short time before the fat cat waddled out of sight. "I honestly don't care what Miriam and the witches think," Demetrius said, helping me into the sunlight.
Fair enough. "I think it's a great idea," I said as Gram rose from the kitchen table, hands trembling, faded blue eyes locked on Demetrius. I followed her gaze to his, saw the eagerness in his expression and let him go. "But make sure you talk to Mom eventually, okay?"
He didn't answer. He wasn't with me anymore. Amazing to stand there, hand pressed to my lower back, and watch as my grandmother anxiously smoothed her flowered dress, touched her white hair with a nervous gesture, smiled with coy adorableness at the sorcerer.
Holy. Freaking. No. Way.
Gram?
And Demetrius?
What the hell?
"You," he said, as he came to a halt before her, their height a perfect match, "are the most beautiful thing I've seen in so long. I'm breathless."
She giggled. Freaking giggled.
"Ethpeal Hayle," he said, opening his arms, "I've missed you so, my dear."
And Gram... stepped into his arms and kissed him. Passionately.
On. The. Mouth.
Before bursting into tears and clinging to him like she'd just found her long lost best friend.
No, not best friend.
Soul mate.
So much I didn't know. So many questions.
They could wait.
Demetrius led my grandmother out of the kitchen and down the hall toward her room without a backward glance, the sound of her door closing telling me I might have to wait longer than I thought.
Shenka's dark eyes shone with laughter and a sheen of tears. "Oh my," she said.
Tell me about it.
Sassafras leaped up on the table, eyes locked on the hallway. "I never knew," he said. "I thought there was only Ivan."
Clearly not the case. And since my grandfather was a lying, cheating, asshole traitor who I hoped would burn in hell for the remainder of eternity for what he did to Gram... Demetrius was a nice trade off.
Maybe Gram could finally find her happy after all.
I just needed to go after Ameline, strip her power and return it where it belonged.
As if in agreement with my assessment of the situation, nugget stirred. Kicked me as hard as he could in the spine, bless him.
And grumbled. Mumbled. Complained.
Out.
Um. What? Was that a word?
Out.
I staggered as a band of pain grabbed me in an iron fist and tried to remove all awareness of the world from my conscious mind. A gasp so loud I'm sure it broke the sound barrier escaped my collapsing lungs as I reached out to Shenka with my lips flapping like a suffocating fish.
Owfreakingowdamnitholycrapwhatthehell?
The pain went away while my second gaped back, dark eyes wide and a little wild.
"Syd?" She took a hesitant step toward me, power reaching for me.
Just as the nugget kicked again.
Out!
Oh. My. Swearword.
"Call Lula," I choked around a new wave of agony as I sank to the floor, unable to stand any longer. "I think-"
Out, Momma.
With a surge of panic, Shenka's magic screaming for Mom and the Kennecott healer, I wasn't sure either of them would make it.
The peanut was coming.
And he wasn't taking "slow down" for an answer.
***
