The Stone Demon (9 page)

On the dais, Demian sat on a throne that was carved from silver bones and threaded with black roses. His white suit made him look monochromatic, highlighted only by his onyx eyes and the single black rose in the lapel of his jacket. He was attended by beings who might have been demons or faeries, or even humans glamoured to within an inch of their lives. It was difficult to tell, what with everyone wearing such ornately carved masks.

The Demon King was the only person in the room not wearing one. His face seemed made of marble anyway, Donna thought as she surreptitiously examined him, so it wasn’t like he needed to. It looked like someone had taken the sharpest knife in the world and carved his features, taking great care to get all the angles just right.

His eyes came to rest on her and she saw the corner of his mouth flicker. He looked away and said something to a tall man standing beside him. The man nodded behind his silver goat-mask and slid from the dais with inhuman speed, disappearing through a doorway that appeared out of nowhere.

“May I have this dance?” a low voice said in her ear.

Donna turned, and found herself looking into familiar green eyes. Everything around her seemed to stop, caught in a spell that could almost have frozen time. She knew she was being way over-the-top corny, but, in that disorienting moment—while her brain tried to catch up with what her eyes were seeing—the disconnect between dream and reality felt exactly like that. There was no way that the person asking her to dance could possibly be there.

And yet … here he was.

“Xan,” she whispered, suddenly feeling light-headed. But not in the silly, giddy-girly way that she used to feel around him—she was just so surprised he was there, and so happy to see him, that the emotions all sort of crashed together like a wave that left her breathless.

She’d never imagined he would travel all the way here. For her.

“Donna,” he said, his eyes burning viridian bright in the atmospheric lighting. “You look beautiful.”

Then Xan stepped back, holding her gloved hands in his, examining her as if she was something precious. With the way he was looking at her, Donna actually
did
feel beautiful—for the first time in her life. She didn’t think about the iron tattoos that covered her arms, or about all the things that made her feel different and like she didn’t belong; she just soaked up his attention like a plant starved of sunlight. One happy moment amid all the craziness was allowed—right?

“Seriously,” he said, grinning at her. “You look amazing.”

His appreciative expression told Donna that he truly meant every word, and despite how much his quiet sincerity made her squirm, she was pleased he’d said it. Warmth spread through her body, chasing away some of the night’s tension and fear.

She smiled, trying to own the belief that she might actually look halfway cute. In Xan’s eyes, at the very least.

“You look pretty amazing, yourself,” she said.

And that, too, was true. Xan was wearing a simple, charcoal-gray suit that fitted him to perfection. His hair was slicked back from his face, showing off his beautiful cheekbones and flashing eyes even more than usual. The forest-green shirt added to the effect, and, honestly, Donna couldn’t imagine that he didn’t know how stunning he looked. But then, she thought, maybe he really didn’t. Xan had faults, sure, but vanity wasn’t one of them.

When she glanced down at his feet, she couldn’t help smiling. He was wearing his regular black boots beneath the sharply tailored pants, which should have spoiled the effect but actually made him look even hotter.

Xan raised an eyebrow. “What are you smiling at?”

“Oh, nothing.” She bit her lip in an effort to stop grinning. A lot of the past month had been spent wondering how things stood between them, and yet all it took was for Alexander Grayson to get on a plane and turn up at a party looking dashing to sweep all that from her mind.

Well, maybe not entirely, but it was a start.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?” she finally asked.

He smiled. “Honestly, I didn’t know if I could make it in time. Not with how packed the flights were.”

“But you found a way,” she said, gazing at him wonderingly. How had he managed to gain entry? Surely Demian would have a problem with gate-crashers.

“There’s always a way,” he said, and then crooked his arm, indicating that she should take it. “Shall we,
mademoiselle
?”

“Why thank you, kind sir.” Donna hooked her arm through his and let him help her down an awkwardly placed marble step. She was glad of the support, considering the stupid heels she was wearing.

“Where did all these people come from?” Xan whispered, bending so that his mouth was by her ear. His breath tickled the sensitive flesh there, making her shiver.

“I have no idea. I haven’t seen anyone from the Order of the Crow at all. Miranda should be here by now.”

“Maybe we’re just early.”

“Yeah,” she said. “Because I was so keen to hang out with a bunch of demons.”

His lips twitched. “Well, I was keen to hang out with you, Miss Underwood. I waited outside for half an hour.”

“Xan! It’s freezing.” She shook her head. “Why were you waiting out there?”

He gave her what he probably thought was a very mysterious look. “Well, I’d better not say. You’d tell me off for destroying my lungs.”

Donna rolled her eyes but said nothing. She’d already smelled the tobacco on him. It wasn’t her job to tell him what to do, no matter how much she might worry. She wasn’t his mother.

“I still can’t believe you came all this way … ”

“Really? I thought you knew how I felt about you.” Xan’s eyes were filled with warmth.

More people entered the hall, and the noise levels rose. Grand orchestral music filtered through hidden speakers, and a band appeared to be completing their equipment checks up on a huge stage in the center of the room. Donna was sure she’d just seen the Prime Minister of England remove his ivory Punch mask and wipe sweat from his brow. She did a double take, and there was his stylish wife beside him, hidden behind a demonic-looking Judy.

It was surreal. How had Demian gotten all these humans to come? Was he using his magic to influence them? His natural charisma, the result of Otherworldly pheromones, was powerful enough to turn her to mush each time he even looked at her, so who knew what he could achieve by talking to humans in positions of power in the world? The possibilities were horrifying.

Perhaps she should start hoping that Demian really
was
only interested in revenge on the alchemists. Whatever else he might have planned for the world, she couldn’t begin to imagine.

Xan said something that she didn’t catch. She tucked strands of hair behind her ear and adjusted her mask, leaning toward him, trying to hear over the music. But before he could repeat what he’d said, the crowds parted and a lone figure appeared on the main stage. And “appeared” was the right word. Demian was obviously intent on making a dramatic entrance; he materialized out of the already magic-stained air.

Donna squeezed her hands into fists, prepared for anything.

Xan glanced at her, concern creasing his brow. “What’s the matter?”

“You didn’t see that?”

He grinned. “Oh,
him
. Sorry, I was too busy looking over there.”

She followed the direction of his gaze and shook her head. Three immaculately groomed women had taken to the floor, each wearing a low-cut, backless gown. They looked gorgeous—almost unreal visions of female perfection. Each wore a jeweled bird mask, which made them look predatory and ever-so-slightly scary.

She elbowed him. “Be serious. We don’t know what De-
mian’s up to.”

“Seems like the dude’s just having a party, to me.”

“You don’t believe that for a minute. Stop trying to put me at ease.”

He shrugged. “It was worth a try. I know how much you’ve been missing Navin. I guess I should try to take on his role for you, right?”

Donna continued watching Demian through narrowed eyes. “Maybe you should leave the humor to him. And honestly, I’m glad he’s not here. I don’t want Nav anywhere near Demian.”

Xan squeezed her shoulder gently. “But it’s okay for me to be in the same room as a demon king?”

“You know what I mean.”

“If you mean that you think I can handle myself, I’ll take that as a compliment. We all know that Sharma would probably run screaming.”

Donna glared at him, finally taking her eyes off the stage. “That’s not true! Nav is one of the bravest people I know.”

“Hey, relax. I’m just messing with you. I know you’ve got a soft spot for him. For some reason … ”

He was grinning again, so Donna chose to ignore his teasing. When she looked back at the stage, Demian had already gone. She couldn’t see him anymore, but the band looked ready to play their first number.

Xan nudged her. “So, shall we dance?”

Donna was suddenly self-conscious. She didn’t know the first thing about ballroom dancing. “Sure.”

It had been weeks since she’d last been in Xan’s arms, and her heart automatically began to speed up in anticipation. Maybe he was acting a little strange, but he could still make her melt with that smile.

His left hand circled her waist and he took her right hand in his. He pulled her gently against him and they began to move to the music, entering the flow of dancers swishing around the floor. A minute had barely passed before the music changed to something slow and seductive. Xan’s hand was warm against the small of her back as he pulled her more firmly against him.

The lights flickered and dimmed. Donna frowned and tried to look over her shoulder, but Xan spun her and she had to concentrate on her footwork to keep up. She might not know what she was doing but
he
seemed surprisingly adept, leading her around the floor as though he’d had lessons.

As they swayed with the music, Donna began to feel hot—unnaturally hot. Her tattoos were quiet beneath her long gloves, otherwise she might have thought something weird was going on with them. Her powers had seemed to settle down over the last couple weeks, which was a huge relief, but even so … she was always prepared for that to change.

“Xan, I think I need to stop for a moment,” she said, beginning to step back.

“Let’s keep going!” he replied, spinning her again, faster and faster.

Too fast.

Impossibly fast.

Donna looked into his eyes and watched as they flickered from green to black and then back again.

“Xan? Where’s your mask gone?” And then she realized something she should have noticed immediately—he hadn’t been wearing one. No mask. She narrowed her eyes. “Answer me.”

He shook his head, as though trying to clear it, but there was no hiding the fact that his golden skin was much paler than normal. His eyes flashed ebony again. Donna tried to pull herself free, but his arms held her with unfamiliar cruelty. She couldn’t get away, even with her own strength, and it was pissing her off.

And then Alexander Grayson’s face began to fade.

His flesh rippled and glowed. In fact, his entire body was momentarily surrounded by an aura of crimson light, making him look as though someone had doused him in blood. It now seemed he had been wearing a “mask” all along—Xan’s features were sliding down his face, leaving behind the Demon King’s harsh beauty.

“Ah,” Demian said, “and we were having such a lovely time.” He smiled, and his lips looked perfect and kissable.

Donna swallowed hard, dragging her gaze away from his mouth. “Let go of me. Now. I’ll scream, and I’m sure you don’t want to make a fuss in front of all your important guests.”

“Important?” The king of the demons laughed. “They are nothing to me.”

He kept his left arm around her waist, and with the other he swept an arc across the entire dance floor.

Everyone disappeared.

Seven

D
onna stumbled, only staying upright thanks to Demian’s grip. She was about to try freeing herself again when she realized what he’d done.

“You moved
us
, didn’t you? Everyone else is still at the ball.”

“Yes.” He released her, taking her by surprise, and placed both palms gently on either side of her face. “You look like a queen tonight, Donna Underwood.”

Donna shook her head and stepped back, ducking away from his surprisingly gentle hands. He smelled of cold stone. “Stop it,” she said. “Take us back.”

The demon folded his hands behind his back, and Donna watched a slow smile spread across his face. Demian appeared to enjoy her gaze on him, lifting his chin and basking in it as though it was his right. She had never denied that he was gorgeous—even
otherworldly
in his beauty—but that didn’t mean she could be swept off her feet by him.

It’s all illusion
, Donna reminded herself, yet again.
None of it’s real
. He probably had horns and a freaking tail when he was just hanging out in Hell. Thinking about that helped her to hold the pieces of herself together, tightly. Fiercely. She looked around, taking in their surroundings for the first time since Demian had transported them … here.

Wherever “here” was.

They were in what could only be described as a very high-class waiting room—like something that you’d find in the most expensive kind of lawyer’s office. Minimalist décor, lots of white, geometrically designed furniture that definitely hadn’t come from IKEA, potted plants, and glass tables polished to within an inch of their lives. If they
had
lives, of course.

Donna swallowed her fear. She tried to find the whisper of first matter deep inside her, but there was something about their surroundings that made her feel dizzy. Disoriented. She was also fighting the crushing disappointment that Demian had played her for a fool. Of course, Xan wasn’t here at all. He never had been, and that realization was like a sharp knife to the gut.

That part made her more angry than afraid, so she grabbed hold of the feeling to anchor herself.

“Nice waiting room. Do we have an appointment with someone?” she asked, putting her hands on her hips to hide how much they were shaking.