Demonsense: Demon Master Part 15

"Are you hurt?" It was a rea.s.suring question, but she did not have a rea.s.suring answer.

"I'm not exactly sure. I can't seem to move much. I'm pretty sure I drained my base energy badly."

"You feel possessed." Daniel's voice was still rough, but his tone gave nothing away. She couldn't tell if the idea concerned him or interested him.

"Gelsenim is still with me," she admitted.

"I'm not sure I can do anything about that at the moment," he told her, and this time, some hint of how he was feeling entered his voice. He sounded worried.

"I don't think I need you to do anything about it. He's not giving me any trouble right now."

"I think... I think he might be giving me some trouble," Daniel returned. "I think demon contact is bad for me right now."

"Oh, dear lord, of course." Bree tried and failed again to lever herself away from him. A little "oomph" escaped Daniel as she fell down on top of him again. Gelsenim, she tried, I don't suppose you'd be a dear and just leave when I ask you to? I don't think he should have demon contact right now.

I dislike the idea greatly, my host. Daniel seems relatively calm now, but the outcome of our experiment is still unclear. You may still be a danger.

What could you do to help me anyway? You're as trashed as I am.

Less so, I think. You appear weak and unable to move. I believe you depleted what you call your base energy to a dangerous level. I, at least, am able to move.

Well then, move on out, would you? I can always call you again if I run into trouble. Can't you stay nearby or something?

I always attempt to stay 'nearby,' my host. How do I know you will call me again? I dislike losing this form, this clarity of thought. It seems too cruel to ask it of me.

Well, cruel or not, Daniel was at immediate risk, whereas Gelsenim was returning to a long familiar state that would not end his existence. He could surely be recovered to a like coherent state again, and she tried to rea.s.sure him of that. I'm beginning to understand more of your nature, she told him. I see how it benefits you to join with me, beyond ending your hunger. And once again, you have helped me when I needed you. So we begin to build some trust. I can promise you that once I have recovered some energy, I will call you. I may even do it without Daniel present if you can show me again that you'll leave at my request.

Bree registered a mental sigh from the demon. I will miss you, my host. Do call me soon. She felt a s.h.i.+ver of pleasurable energy move across her body as Gelsenim departed.

And then it was Daniel's turn to sigh. "Thank G.o.d," he said faintly.

"How are you feeling?" Bree's voice came out faint. A tide of exhaustion rose in her, and she realized it was only Gelsenim's presence that had kept her coherent.

"Like I was run over by a monster truck. Two monster trucks," he added after a short pause. "Maybe it's a post possession thing, but I can't seem to move much. And I feel like my brain has been turned inside out. Then there's the shame and humiliation. That part's really fun too."

It was funny and not funny at the same time. Bree almost laughed, but then she realized she didn't have any response to hand that might make him feel better. So she didn't say anything.

After a few quiet minutes, Daniel spoke again. "I don't know what to say to you," he said, echoing her feelings. "Sorry just doesn't seem to cover it. And I can't say it'll never happen again, because I don't know what happened."

"Gelsenim says you became fully divided. He said something about how when that happens, the dark side always takes over."

"So why are we lying here, having this conversation? I don't remember what happened. All I remember is getting really angry, and feeling the urge to call a demon. It was crazy strong, like I've never felt it before. I've been tempted a few times, but this was completely different." His voice had started faint and hoa.r.s.e, but it gradually got stronger. "I remember calling Gelsenim, I kind of remember him entering me and feeling better, but then it all turns into a blur. Except the part where I was trying to strangle you. And something about you being in my mind and doing something I didn't want you to do. The next thing I knew, here we were, you lying on top of me, apparently unconscious. At first I thought you were dead." That last was said with a catch in his voice, but he went on. "But then I felt you breathing, and I realized I couldn't move."

"I guess none of it really took that long," Bree allowed. "It seemed to last forever at the time. You had some kind of break in your mind, and that dark energy thing just took over. I did a deep read with Gelsenim's help and did some kind of attunement and energy work to try to get you back in balance. I'm getting the impression it worked, since you're not a fire breathing maniac right now." She was trying to inject a little humor into the situation, and she craned her head a little to see if she had managed to make him smile. And there was just a trace of one, a tiny lift at the corner of his mouth.

"I'm very much afraid the maniac is not missing so much as tired out and temporarily resting. I got a very bad feeling when I woke up and my Demonsense kicked. Almost like if I had the energy, I'd be gathering my will to call Gelsenim back."

"Well, I guess that's not good. But on the other hand, you seem pretty calm right now. And it's looking to me like getting angry is doing something to put you over the edge. I guess it's not only demon contact at this point that's doing it."

"I'm only angry at myself right now, and I don't really have much energy to put into that, so I think we're good for now anyway."

"Well that's hunky dory, because if you attacked me now, I couldn't do anything about it." Daniel didn't answer, and Bree's hope that the mood was lightening sank like a stone into a dark, cold lake.

After more quiet moments where Bree fretted with feeling stupid for trying to be funny, Daniel said quietly, "I think it would be best if you left. I feel relatively like myself right now, but I have no way of knowing how long that will last."

"Well, if you can figure out a way to move me, and get someone to drive me home, we have a deal." She felt Daniel's muscles tense beneath her as he tried to sit up. He got perhaps a quarter of the way there before he fell back again onto the wood floor with an unhappy little thud.

"Yeah, that's what I thought," Bree told him, smiling into his chest. "I have another idea. How about we just rest right here for a bit? That's what I really want to do." She knew he was right, knew it was safer for her to leave, but she really didn't think she could do it. And she was so incredibly tired. Her spinning thoughts were slowing and she could feel sleep readying itself to pounce and claim her. And besides, she knew, with a strange and perfect clarity, that Daniel wouldn't hurt her, not right now.

"There's the little issue that my left arm is already falling asleep, but other than that, maybe a small nap wouldn't hurt. Hopefully after that, we'll be able to get up and I can call Kevin or Sophie to come get you. Or maybe you'll be recovered enough to drive yourself home."

Bree tried to move her head away from the edge of Daniel's shoulder, where the pressure was probably causing his arm to go numb. She managed to wiggle her way closer to the middle of his chest, her head under his chin, their legs closer together. "How's that?" she asked drowsily.

"Better." His right arm went around her waist, holding her to him. Bree pretended not to notice and fell immediately to sleep.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

Leander had gotten the call late last night to meet Howard Scanlon at his home again that morning. Having to go somewhere on a Tuesday morning, through rush hour traffic, felt annoyingly like having a job. What was the point of being Keltoi if you had to put up with that kind of s.h.i.+t? As Leander made his way through downtown, then turned uphill on Olive Street for Capitol Hill, he reflected that in spite of the various annoyances and compromises of his position, in general, the Keltoi lifestyle agreed with him very much. He liked the independence of most of his a.s.signments, liked the challenge, and he definitely enjoyed having weeks and sometimes months off at a time to enjoy the very comfortable income the work afforded. He was a specialist with some rare abilities, and that not only netted him decent money, it also tended to protect him from the worst of the power plays inside the Keltoi, both political and magical.

He also got the impression that working for Scanlon was going to be a h.e.l.l of a lot less complicated than working for Marton Varga. Leander respected the h.e.l.l out of Marton, which was part of the problem from his point of view. Few people truly intimidated Leander, and Marton was one of them. Leander figured Marton could definitely give Daniel Thorvaldson a run for his money in the power category. Marton was high power as a Caster, Warder, Demon Master, Diviner, and Reader of energy. And of course, he was a low power Binder. Those types often came across as charismatic, as alpha style leaders. Though a few, like Leander himself, could manage a subtle binding without a complex spell, they usually couldn't so much completely take over your will as intimidate you and manipulate you into doing what they wanted, in a way that often left you later wondering why you'd done it.

Marton could be chancy in his temper, though he was usually smart enough to use that rather than be used by it. He could also be loyal to those he thought loyal to him. He was intensely ambitious, and there was no doubt in Leander's mind that he was the originator of the demon war strategy that was getting its start in some of the major cities in the U.S. Leander didn't know much about the eventual goals, other than that they were political. He didn't concern himself with those things. What did concern him was Marton's att.i.tude towards him.

Marton had discovered him, living as a street kid, stealing, conning and selling his body when he needed to in order to survive. He'd run away at thirteen from one of a succession of foster homes, none of them powered, where he'd always felt like an unwanted freak. Oh, he'd be able to charm the latest foster parents in the beginning, that part had always been easy. But eventually, they'd get uneasy about him. Normals often had some rudimentary way of sensing when someone was powered. Not that they ever guessed they were dealing with someone capable of what they would call magic. They'd just sense the difference, the uncanny quality, something a bit off in responses. And always, in the end, Leander couldn't keep up the faade of caring about what his foster parents wanted. He was too independent, and couldn't keep to the rules for long. He'd been told he had "attachment problems." He supposed that was true. His feelings for other people seldom went deep.

In a very uncomfortable way, he was attached to Marton. Marton had found Leander at sixteen, brought him into his own home, had basically fostered him. It had been a completely different experience than those he'd had in other foster homes. For one thing, he couldn't charm Marton. Not that Marton didn't like him; he had always seemed amused by Leander, admiring his ability to manipulate, to lie and deceive. Marton couldn't read Leander, but he could still usually predict what Leander would do, and he was powerful enough, intimidating enough that Leander had learned to obey him because an unhappy Marton was a very scary Marton. He had a cruel streak that, once activated, cut like a knife.

And while Leander was usually good at reading what others wanted of him, he hadn't always been able to predict what would upset Marton. He knew that on some level, Marton thought of him as a little brother, a replacement for the one that had been killed by Keepers in some Keeper/Keltoi conflict a year or so before Marton took him in. But Marton also seemed very ready to use Leander in whatever way he saw fit. He'd taken Leander in with a plan in mind, a plan to use Leander's unique un-readability, which he had done to the utmost. There was a coldness, a calculation to it that let Leander know not to expect Marton to truly treat him like family.

Marton didn't let Leander in on the inner workings of the Clan either. In that, he was probably right because Leander didn't really care to be involved. Marton seemed to understand his need to work on his own, to stay out of the oft times rigid Keltoi hierarchy, and Leander truly appreciated that. What he didn't welcome was the fact that he cared what Marton thought of him, and not just because he was afraid of what Marton might do to him if he disappointed. He wanted Marton's approval, he couldn't help it, and Marton knew it and used it. On one level, Leander figured that most parents operated that way. But most parents weren't Marton Varga.

With Scanlon, all he had to contend with was a traditionally minded Keltoi Clan Chief. Scanlon wasn't un-dangerous, but Leander thought he'd be predictable and easy to keep happy. Leander knew he could get results, and that's all Scanlon wanted of him. A nice, simple, business exchange.

Leander finally pulled up in front of Scanlon's house, and was once again led by the butler towards the back of the house to Scanlon's office. Scanlon was working at his desk, on his laptop, when Leander came in. He nodded to Leander and told him he'd be with him in a minute. The butler offered him a cup of coffee, which he took, and he stood looking out one of the windows at the view while he waited.

It was a windy morning, with constantly moving patches of clouds covering, then revealing the sun. The back of the house overlooked a downhill slope towards Lake Was.h.i.+ngton, whose blue length was visible in the near distance. The skyline of the suburban city of Bellevue across the lake could be seen further out, and behind that was the long line of the Cascade Mountains in their snow dusted glory. He found if he s.h.i.+fted to the left and looked south, he could see the lower white slopes of Mt. Rainier looming in the distance, the volcanic cone three times higher than the mountains around it, a near sentient presence whose very top was covered by clouds. He had to admit that it was a stunning view. He'd found the amount of overcast skies and drizzling rain depressing since he'd moved to Seattle, but on a day like this, where everything was green and blue and white, trees and lakes, sky and mountains, he could see the appeal of the Northwest.

Scanlon was finally done with whatever he'd been working on, and invited Leander to sit across from him once again while he gave his update. He filled Scanlon in on his successes with starting a connection with the McClains, and with Bree, and also relayed the incident of Bree being attacked by the young Keltoi. Then he handed over the envelope with the three hairs from Hunter.

"And what about Thorvaldson?" Scanlon prompted when Leander finished. "What were your impressions of him?"

"Definitely very high power, maybe the most high power I've felt, though the read was complicated by Thorvaldson's alcohol use. It was at a party on St. Patrick's Day, so there was a lot of drinking going on. I would have said he was a little demon burned, which was surprising. I know he's supposed to be a Demon Master, but I would a.s.sume, like most Keepers and Exorcists, he'd at least try to resist possession and hold it together for another decade, at least."

"That is interesting information. I did get a report from Ms. Gambrini that on at least one occasion, Thorvaldson sought a possession in order to defeat her in battle. That was several months ago. If the possession lasted long enough, he could still be showing the effects."

"But I wouldn't think that being demon burned would be caused so quickly," Leander challenged. He wanted to push back a little with Scanlon, because he didn't have more success to report on getting in with Thorvaldson himself and wanted to keep attention off that fact.

"In general, it doesn't. But some Demon Masters are more vulnerable than others to demon contact. Type of demon contact matters as well. The higher power a demon, the greater the risk for damage to the host. Which is why, as much as hosting higher level demons grants stronger powers, intelligent Demon Masters avoid it."

Leander knew Scanlon was speaking of himself. One reason Demon Masters didn't often ascend to the rank of Clan Chief was the near certainty that they would become addicted to demon contact and become unstable. Only the most disciplined and cautious Demon Masters made their talent work for them over the long haul, and even then, they all eventually succ.u.mbed to the impulse to allow possession and went bat s.h.i.+t crazy. Marton was also very cautious as a Demon Master.

"In any case," Leander went on, "it seemed clear to me that Thorvaldson is not currently involved with Bree Jenkins. I believe there has been some kind of relations.h.i.+p, and there seems to be some tension between them. I'd also say Thorvaldson was difficult to approach. Very guarded. Given what I read in his dossier, I get why that would be. Which is why I chose to go the route of getting in with Jenkins instead. It was ultimately fortuitous she had that run in with that young group of Keltoi. The crisis created an opportunity to quickly further trust with her."

"How quickly?" Scanlon asked him "I don't have her full trust, but I wouldn't expect to at this stage. And Jenkins was too traumatized to want to be social. My relations.h.i.+p with her is new and fragile. Is there," he hesitated, then proceeded delicately, "some new reason to try to hurry this process along?"

Scanlon's expression turned a little sour at that. His hands fiddled with the cup of coffee in his hands, though the rest of his tells showed calm command. "I admit I wouldn't have seen a need to interfere at this stage of things, but the bigger picture has apparently s.h.i.+fted, necessitating a need for greater speed."

Just then, there was brief knock at the office door. "Come," Scanlon instructed, and the through the door walked Marton Varga and Franchesca Gambrini. Leander's stomach clenched. This was a surprise, and he didn't like surprises that he wasn't delivering.

Scanlon rose to shake Marton's hand. Marton was dressed in an unusually formal manner, in a charcoal grey suit, snowy white s.h.i.+rt, and a green tie calculated to set off the dark green of his eyes. His chin length, dark brown hair was brushed back, and subtly gelled into place. Even all dressed up, there was an air of street-wise predator about Marton that made any half aware person want to treat him with careful respect. Franchesca stood at his side, striking as usual, perhaps a shade taller than Marton's five-eleven in her heels. Her name suited her, so much so, Leander cattily thought, she might have made it up. She looked Italian, with long, dark curly hair, dark eyes, and gorgeous bone structure. She also had lovely long legs that she liked to display in tasteful but short skirts. She had on a white one today, with a ruffle along the bottom and a green cashmere sweater set to compliment Marton's tie.

It was a soft look for a hard woman. Leander knew her for a Demon Master, and a high power, battle tested Caster, as well as a high power Reader of energy and tells. She was also far enough along in being demon burned that Leander wondered why Marton was involved with her, other than what was probably the wicked s.e.x. Politically, she was Marton's line to the New York Keltoi she was originally a part of, though she seemed to have been adopted into Marton's L.A. Keltoi clan.

She had an arm possessively hooked onto Marton, her posture canted towards him. Marton, for his part, seemed entirely focused on Scanlon.

"Good morning, Howard, I hope I find you well," he was saying, the use of Scanlon's first name an obvious mark of his setting himself up as Scanlon's equal. He was, in Keltoi terms, both Scanlon's superior and inferior. He controlled a bigger territory by far, and was more higher power overall, but being so much Scanlon's junior in years and experience went against him in the way Keltoi hierarchy was counted. The meeting of two such men was rife with subtle plays for status and advantage.

"Well enough," Scanlon replied genially. Leander watched the men's joined hands with interest as the male dominance handshake played itself out. In Leander's view, Marton won that one. Scanlon gestured to the couch where he had been sitting and invited Marton and Franchesca to take a seat. He offered coffee from an urn sitting on a silver tray, which both agreed to.

Leander was amused to see Franchesca playing the quiet, demure companion. He'd seen her screaming outbursts with Marton and with some of Marton's flunkies. She apparently still had it enough together to come across relatively sane when she had to. He knew Marton had forbidden her demon contact in an attempt to slow down and maybe reverse some of the negative Demon Master effects, so maybe that had helped.

"Your man here was just filling me in on his a.s.signment. As you'd told me, he works fast, and has already made good infiltration into Thorvaldson's group."

Marton finally acknowledged Leander with a smile. "He's good all right, the best." In spite of himself, Leander was warmed by that smile. He tried not to let that p.i.s.s him off.

"And I do hate to get in the middle of your action on that, but things are progressing with the war faster than antic.i.p.ated. That has moved up some time lines."

"Things are coming along slower here than they are in L.A.," Scanlon warned. He was reclining in apparent comfort in the chair next to Leander's facing Marton and Franchesca. There was something just a little put on about his apparent relaxation. He'd know that Marton and Franchesca could read that, but he didn't have a choice but to try and look unworried and in control. "We've had some incidences of social unrest, but nothing compared to the level that's been achieved elsewhere. We don't have the number of Demon Masters your larger clans have, so we can only call so many demons with any safety to the Demon Masters themselves. And I would have to say the population here is more stable in general."

"Which is part of why I'm here," Marton told him. He crossed his legs casually as he spoke. "I'd like to do what I can to help the process along. We're timing all this to come to full fruition by the end of May. By that time, we hope to have a broader support for the candidates we've formed alliances with. Which is where Thorvaldson comes in. Franchesca a.s.sures me he has a reliable spell to completely hide Demon Master and Binder talents. While our goals may ultimately be reached by the strategy we have in place now, if we were able to position Binders in government without the knowledge or interference of Keepers, we would essentially be able to write our own ticket in terms of support for our business interests."

The audacity of the plan pleased Leander. That path had been tried before, many times, over the centuries. But always, some light power cabal would uncover and take down the Binder because it wasn't possible to hide one's powers. But if a Binder was able to hide his or her power, and be in regular contact with figures high in government, the Keepers wouldn't know about it. They were, as a rule, very reluctant to interfere in the normal world. Even in dealing with the Keltoi, they seldom used a.s.sa.s.sination, though that strategy that would gain them a great deal of ground in certain situations. They usually kept to the idea that they were better than the Keltoi, and wouldn't stoop to the same tactics for fear of becoming like the people they were battling.

Hence the uneasy balance of power. What Keepers lacked in ruthlessness, they tended to make up for in superior training and power. Leander had observed that their great strength was in their adherence to their often apparently self-crippling morals and duty. They could seldom be bought. And being bought was the weakness of the Keltoi. Clan loyalty existed, but the Keltoi, were, at bottom, a business organization, in it for the profit. Clans were not that stable, and there was a lot of moving about from one Clan to another, in search of greater position and gains. Keltoi like Marton tried to make up for that by enforcing a strict hierarchy, with sometimes deadly punishments for failure.

"I presume you have people working on coming up with our own version of the spell," Scanlon said with a faint tone of condescension. Score one for Scanlon, Leander thought. He's letting Marton know Marton is showing weakness by not being able to do it himself.

"Obviously, it's an extremely difficult spell to develop, or it would have been discovered and used long ago. My cousin shows unusual gifts in the area of casting. Daniel is well known as being unmatched among Keepers as a Caster."

And thus Leander got his second surprise of the day. Thorvaldson was Marton's cousin? He scanned Marton's face, looking for any similarity. There was just a bit in those strong, Slavic cheekbones, the long eyes. Leander would guess they were related on Marton's Hungarian mother's side. Why hadn't Marton told him about this? It was clearly pertinent to his current a.s.signment. And why was he letting Leander in on it now?

"As you are unmatched among Keltoi," Franchesca said with an admiring smile at Marton. She managed to make it sound like a kind of giddy, infatuated comment rather than the veiled insult of Scanlon it was intended to be. Franchesca sent a sidelong look at Scanlon to read his response.

"The faster route may still be to get the spell directly from Thorvaldson, which is why Rayne's a.s.signment still has merit," Scanlon replied smoothly. "If Jenkins was close enough to Thorvaldson to be entrusted with details of the spell, we may be relatively close to retrieving that information given the inroads Rayne has made with her."

"So you weren't able to charm Daniel?" Marton asked Leander directly.

"He's got that paranoid ex-Keeper thing going. I judged it far easier to take in the woman. She seems relatively unsophisticated about dark power and about Keltoi in general. She's not entirely trusting by any means, but I can reach her."

"Do you think you'll be able to lure her away from Daniel? The two seemed quite wound up in each other when I saw them together last autumn," Franchesca said. She tried and failed to conceal her avid interest in his response. Leander would have liked to play with her a little on her obvious jealousy, get her to show off her psycho side, but he knew Marton wouldn't like that, so instead, he answered truthfully. "They're not a couple, if that's what you're asking. They seem to be friends, and I don't antic.i.p.ate it will be difficult to get her to form a romantic attachment to me."

"You like her, don't you?" Marton commented with a penetrating look at Leander. d.a.m.n the man and his uncanny intuition.

"Yeah, I like her well enough. She's pretty in a Northwest hippie girl kind of way, and she's bright. You know it helps if I actually find something to like in the person I'm trying to get an in with." The fact that he'd felt a certain tender protectiveness towards Bree, well, that argued for more than just a vague liking, and it wasn't something he wanted Marton to key in on because it might make Marton think he would be compromised on the a.s.signment. He didn't dare read Marton to check whether he was picking up those feelings, because Marton didn't like Leander to read him. Franchesca, on the other hand, was openly unhappy with his positive description of Bree. Really, she ought to try a little harder to hide her emotions in a room full of Readers.

Marton shrugged. "As you say, it makes things easier. Just be aware that someone that nave may, in some ways, be harder for you to con. One tends to feel sorry for such people, and it can get in the way."

"You know me, I never let anything get in the way of collecting my fee," Leander answered breezily.

"Yes, little savage, I know," Marton replied with some genuine fondness. "I do realize that getting the information could be a delicate business. It may in the end take a more thorough acceptance into the entire group around Thorvaldson and Jenkins."

"That's how I figure it as well," Leander a.s.sured him.

"In any case," Marton continued, addressing Scanlon again, "with your agreement, I'd like to loan you five of my own people with Demon Master talent to help with the local effort."

It was an interesting offer, and one equally risky for Scanlon to take as to refuse. Marton had successfully taken over all the southern California Keltoi clans, and had heavy duty influence with those in the North. He was known for infiltrating other clans and taking them down from the inside. Scanlon couldn't afford to be seen as less effective in the general effort than other Clan leaders. This working together of Keltoi clans was a risky business, which is why it was so seldom attempted. It had taken a man of Marton's vision and will to make it happen at all.

Scanlon, as Leander had predicted he would, agreed with only a short hesitation. Terms were negotiated, a process Leander was hardly needed for. He saw that Franchesca was getting impatient with having to be present for it as well. He'd gotten the impression before, in L.A., when talk of Thorvaldson had come up a couple of times, that she had some kind of crazy thing for the guy. Some vendetta or unresolved romantic business. The way she kept sending Leander speculative little glances was, he thought, more a reflection of her wanting to get him alone and pump him for information than it was an interest in him. She finally leaned forward a little and tried to engage Leander in a low voiced conversation. "So how did you find Daniel?" she asked him.

"A little drunk, a little jealous, a little demon burned," he responded more provocatively than he should have. Franchesca was openly trying to read him as he spoke.

"You didn't care for him?" she asked even more softly.

Leander shrugged. "I might have if he had cared at all for me. I will say I verge on finding him... intimidating."

"He is very high powered, more than you know, more than anyone knows." She looked positively hungry as she spoke, and Leander thought her an idiot for saying so where Marton could hear her. His a.s.sessment was borne out when he saw Marton reach over and lace his fingers with Franchesca's, then squeeze tight enough to make her wince. Being crazy Franchesca, though, she didn't stop there. "He hesitates to use his Binder abilities, but he will do it in protection of another, and I've never seen a stronger Binder."

G.o.ds, was the woman completely insane, rubbing Marton's nose in the fact that her ex had a major talent he lacked? Marton wasn't the type to take kindly to that kind of comparison. It wasn't that he had a weak ego. He didn't easily feel threatened. But he wouldn't want that less than flattering comparison brought up in front of Scanlon. He saw Marton's hand tighten further, and it seemed Franchesca finally got the message, because she shut up.

The two Clan Chiefs finished their business, and Marton and Franchesca took their leave, a.s.suring Scanlon they'd be staying in Seattle for the next couple of weeks to oversee the liaison between the L.A. Demon Masters and Scanlon's Keltoi. Leander was dismissed by Scanlon moments later with a promise to check in with him personally at the end of the week. He found Marton and Franchesca still in the hallway outside when he left. Marton had Franchesca's arm in a bruising grip, and his face was inches from hers as he angrily whispered what was likely a harsh reprimand for her behavior in front of Scanlon. Leander quietly stepped around them and continued on his way, trying for invisibility. He didn't want to attract Marton's attention when he was in that mood.

He sighed in relief when he made it safely to his car without being followed, and drove out of the driveway faster than was seemly in that posh neighborhood, wanting to get distance between himself and his apparently very angry Clan Chief.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN.

It was dawn before Bree awoke to a stiff neck, and a very sore shoulder and hip. Sleeping on a wood floor was not conducive to comfort. Sometime during the night she and Daniel had s.h.i.+fted until she was snuggled up against his side, one leg thrown over his where he lay on his back, her head on his shoulder and one arm across his stomach. Very carefully, not wanting to wake him yet, she moved back a bit so she could look at him. He appeared entirely peaceful in the dim morning light, lips very slightly parted, lashes dark against his cheeks. She let herself relax against him again. She was relieved she could move, and had the sense she was rested enough that she'd be able to get up, but she didn't want to. Her newly awakened mind offered the opinion that the man she was so enjoying cuddling up against had, mere hours ago, scared the living h.e.l.l out of her. Somehow, she couldn't muster up any anxiety. All she could seem to focus on was the novelty of waking up next to him. She liked the feel of his stomach muscles under her hand, the long, firm length of his leg against hers, the warmth of his arm around her. He felt so entirely different than her husband Seth had, harder, with more sharp angles. It was a strange sensation to lie with another man besides Seth, but a very intriguing one as well. It was easy to imagine a life that included waking up next to Daniel when he was quiet like this, easy to let herself imagine this was a normal relations.h.i.+p. She didn't want to give that feeling up. And besides, he wasn't going to do anything bad to her while he was asleep. So she let herself drift in and out of a drowsy half-sleep without doing anything more than enjoy the moment.