Demon Wolf. Bonnie Vanak
Warmth shone in his eyes. For a moment, she indulged in the fantasy that this was her real home, and she could cook here every night. A real home, with someone to belong to.
The lump returned to her throat. Keira gripped her spoon. If she allowed melancholy to consume her, she’d dim her white light. Think positive. “Tell me about the piano. Do you play?”
He nodded. “Not for a long time, though.”
“Classical or contemporary?”
“Only the classics. I once wanted to be a concert pianist, but wanted to fight our nation’s enemies more.” He gave a crooked smile. “You can’t kill the bad guys with music.”
“You’ve never heard me play.”
Dale gave his deep, husky chuckle. “And you’ve never heard me sing.”
They were deep into a discussion of classical music versus rock when a clear thud sounded downstairs.
“Something’s in the basement.” The spoon rattled against the table as she set it down.
Dale wiped his mouth with the linen napkin. He stood, his expression shuttered. “Or someone. I have quarters down there for my men when they run into trouble. But they always ring the front doorbell.”
“I don’t like your basement. It’s a bit spooky,” she admitted.
His gaze turned troubled. “I haven’t been down there...in a while.”
Keira didn’t want to go down those stairs. Not now, as shadows draped the house and the darkness pushed away the sunlight. Her pulse raced. And then she looked at Dale and thought about how he must feel about basements.
He dragged in a deep breath and went into the hallway. When he returned, he carried the same pistol he’d used to shoot the imp. Dale slid the chamber back, the racking sound echoing in the room.
“Stay here.”
Something vulnerable flashed in his gaze. Keira’s heart kicked. As much as she loathed and feared what lay below, she couldn’t let him go there alone.
“I’m coming with you.”
“No.”
“Bullets won’t stop a demon.”
“My powers can.”
“You’ll need extra help. White light can aid and enhance your powers.” She fished her white quartz crystal from her jeans pocket.
Dale narrowed his eyes. “Fine. But you stay behind me at least five steps, and if I order you to run back upstairs, run.”
She followed him. He opened the door to the basement as she squeezed the crystal tight.
Keira swallowed hard, seeing the steep, gray steps swallowed by inky blackness. Anything could be down there. She’d failed to cleanse the room with white light. Her breathing ragged, she prepared to descend with him into the darkness.
Chapter 5
Dale hadn’t been in his own basement since before the incident. Cupping his gun, he crept down the stairs. Sweat trickled down his temples. This was his home, damn it, and he’d tolerate no intruders. But his pulse rate tripled and he struggled to swallow past the panic rising in his throat.
Memories assaulted him. The terrified little boy held in a demon’s cruel grip. “His life for yours,” the demon had cackled.
And then Dale had willingly become the Centurion’s captive, as they tied him down and tortured him until his voice grew hoarse from the screams....
A soft whimper sounded behind him. Keira was just as terrified. Dale straightened and motioned for her to stay back. Damn it, he was a navy SEAL, not some wimpy ass scared of entering his own damn basement.
He flipped on the light switch. Soft white light illuminated the downstairs. When he reached the bottom step he heard singing.
“I don’t think demons sing,” Keira whispered.
He lowered the gun, relief making his knees weak. “That’s no demon, but an imp from hell. What his mother calls him, anyway.”
Dale rounded the corner to the section he’d built as quarters to house his men when the Phoenix Force needed to discuss ops in private. He flipped the safety on his weapon and shoved it into the waistband of his shorts.
Grant “Sully” Sullivan lay on the carpet, singing a bawdy song. Dale inhaled and recoiled.
“Jesus, Sully, what the hell?”
The ensign struggled to sit up, and fell back, the odor of whiskey clinging to him like cheap perfume. “Sorry, Curt. I’m a little...little drunk.”
“And you came here to sleep it off? Or escape from a lover?” Dale squatted down beside the young SEAL.
Keira entered the room and looked at Sully. Dale sighed. “Keira, meet Ensign Sullivan, one of my men. Sully, this is Keira, my new housekeeper.”
Sully opened one eye and held out a hand. “Pleased to meet you, ma’am.”
Her mouth quirked. “It’s a pleasure since you’re not a demon.” Her gaze whipped to Dale. “Although I’ve heard you’re an imp.”
“That’s what Mom says. Of all her eight kids, I was the worse. Worst.”
Dale wiped his clammy palms on his shorts to hide them from Sully. Even drunk, the man was sharp. Of course. He’d trained the SEAL himself. “Why did you teleport here?”
“My sis. Cassandra’s worried about you. Made me promise to warn you in person, Curt.”
“Who’s Curt?” Keira asked.
“It’s my team nickname.” Dale glanced at the kitchen. “Could you get him a glass of water?”
As Keira headed for the sink, Dale sat beside Sully and lowered his voice. “I told you, I’m fine.”
The last thing he needed was Sully’s well-meaning but nosy older sister fretting about him. Did the whole world have to fuss over him?
“Cassandra saw a vision in her crystal ball.”
Keira handed the glass to Sully, who gulped down the water. “Your sister has a crystal ball?”
“Just for fun. Doesn’t need it.” Sully set the glass down and looked slightly more alert. “She sees her visions in her mind. She came to my place and yelled at me for drinking too much. Jeez, I hate when she yells at me. Like I’m eight again and she’s my bossy older sister nagging me. Well, I was a mess, but damn, I didn’t expect company, sorry for swearing, ma’am....”
Trying to follow a line of conversation with Sully when he was soused was like trying to read Latin backward. Dale pointed two fingers at his eyes. “Focus, Sully. Why was your sister at your apartment?”
“Cassandra was worried about you. Came to tell me. Saw a vision in her crystal ball of you dancing with a demon. Not your ex-wife, either.”
Dale’s mouth quirked. He glanced at Keira to see if she absorbed the joke, and saw blood drain from her face.
He wondered what it meant. Then she smiled, but it seemed strained.
“What kind of demon?”
Sully frowned. “She started bitching... Sorry, ma’am, I mean, complaining, about how messy my place was and how I drank all the whiskey.”
“The demon?” Dale asked.
“My sis.”
“Why did you drink so much?” he asked gently, already knowing the reason.
“Ever since Miranda broke up with me, my life’s been a wreck. I loved her and no one will ever