Demons End (Tremble Island) Read online

They agreed to view the situation at Morlien Hall from several sides before making any solid decisions as to the disposal of the demon.

  Chapter Two

  Rane finished plaiting the child’s soft hair. She cuddled her close and read a child’s tale of adventure to her. When naptime came, she laid her down with a warm blanket and a soft pillow. Wensel was working a piece of leather into a shoe for the small child when Rane left the room. He would watch over her until another came to take his place.

  Hunger drove her direction into the kitchen, where several cooks and their helpers were busily preparing the evening meal. She was a frequent visitor to the warm room and few paid attention to her presence as she found a platter of freshly baked meat pies and pulled one from its resting place onto a plate, before wandering about the kitchen gathering food samples, until her small plate was heaped high. She sat on a small stool at the end of the table and proceeded to devour the entire collection of goodies, not paying attention to the smiles sent her way.

  She placed her soiled plate in the tub of hot soapy water, which was there to keep the preparation utensils clean, and eyed a large juicy apple. The apple found its way into the pocket of her shift and she left the room to go to the herbal. She checked on the distilling tinctures that were slowly dripping into small bottles and made certain she had her medicine case ready to take when Lion and Nord decided to begin the journey to Morlien Hall. For some reason, she couldn’t be still in the one room forbidden to anyone but herself and her mates. Normally she would be soothed as she worked with her medicinals, taking pleasure in converting the herbs and roots she had harvested into potions to help the ill.

  Lately she had been experimenting with scents. The ones she had invented were already being used in soaps and potpourris. The latest batch would be given to the candle makers to use for the evening hours. The island had several enterprises that exported goods to other lands, and she wanted to help provide Tremble’s artisans with new products to trade. She added a few bottles of scent to the bag. If they visited any of the friendly Halls of Care, the ladies of the Halls might welcome a gift such as this.

  They had been visited by a messenger hawk two weeks ago. According to the messenger, Hawk and Con had taken a mate. The news pleased all within hearing, because there were still families that lurked about the confines of Tremble, trying to stay in the city, rather than go back to the same old same old. They were reluctant to repatriate their villages. They enjoyed the thriving life at Tremble and even intermarried with the populous to gain a firmer place in the City’s society. The practice was frowned upon by the Lords of Tremble and so each mating was taken on a case by case basis when they were ferreted out. Bribery and intimidation were the chief reasons for such hidden matings.

  It bothered Rane to see the females that had been sold into marriages by their families for personal gain. Many times the male would force pregnancy to ensure the female’s cooperation and compliance. Lion was not pleased when she demanded that the females and their progeny were released from the male’s power. They had argued for hours on the subject, and she had refused to bend to his way of thinking. Instead, she had given the females that were in abusive situations herbals to stop any pregnancy before it began. She had spirited three away from their unloved mates and gone so far as to stand ground in front of one woman that had been beaten into her marriage bed. When she was healing the poor woman’s injuries, the nasty tempered mate had appeared and ordered her away from his spouse. Unluckily for him, Nord had been present at the time, and nodded his head to her when she approached the bastard. She reached for his head, but he had pulled back and she touched his bare arm instead. That small touch had brought the lout to his knees, yet she refused to back off when Nord attempted to stop her from inflicting further harm onto the object of her hatred.

  She grabbed his head in both hands and sent the pain and anguish of his spouse and several others’s she had attended to that day. As he screamed for mercy, she shouted to Nord to back away. “This creature has abused her for the last time. She has endured more than most of your soldiers have in battle, yet he is protected by the laws made by males such as he. Do not stop me, my mate, if you try, it will not go well in our relationship. I love and respect you. Why is she not allowed that basic right in a mate?” The evil tempered male was left writhing on the floor screaming in unrelieved pain. Rane had helped the woman to rise and leave the hovel, with Nord trailing behind her. There had been an argument to rival any before, after she had settled Urse into the small cottage that she had converted into an infirmary. Her actions that day had begun a revolution of sorts. It was no longer legal for a forced mating to be taken as a day to day happening. Those that still used the practice were punishable under the law if the forced spouse complained or was found to be too intimidated to speak up for themselves. Her mates now called her a crusader. She did not feel like a crusader, only a woman with feelings and compassion.

  She felt her power changing, it seemed to run through her veins at times of stress, not just as a defense mechanism. Her body itched and she felt the need to climb onto her giants’ pricks and ride them until they could no longer walk. It was no hardship to see her men at anytime day or night, but lately all it took was the sight of one or both of them and her body began to hum. The slickness between her thighs became a flood of liquid, waiting for their thick cocks to enter her needy body. The urge to have her slick passage being filled pushed her into finding one of her mates, It was a good thing they were so highly sexed, or she would be lying in a corner of their rooms, weeping in need.

  She spied the men walking into the thick doors of Tremble Castle, and followed them. Ha, we can find a quiet corner, and I can have my way with them.

  *****

  Lord Borland was frantic in his search for the siren child. The small being could not have vanished on her own, and since people slipped away from Morlien Hall during the springtime celebrations, it was impossible to decide who had escaped into the dense brush with her. He must find her, it was the only way to lure the demon from his life and restore harmony in his land. His very soul was at stake, since that pitiful scrap of a former mate of his, cursed him to the demons. He alone knew the secret the child held within, and that secret would be discovered by Leroi, the Demon Prince, too late to save himself and the siren from certain death. The mate, Velia, had since been replaced twice, but until he had found the child, nothing could lift the death curse that had fallen from the bitch’s lips as his fingers squeezed the throat of the woman until the light of life left her eyes.

  His men held yet ten more villagers for questioning, and he could barely contain his need to see those people suffer as he tortured their secrets from them. His decision to leave a fresh body or two at the demon’s lair as sacrifice to the Prince might gain him a few extra days to find the siren and carry out his plan. Knowing how the sacrifices would die made his prick harden. He would not allow the last breath to be taken until they were at the mouth of the demon’s cave. That should keep the creature busy enough for his plan to work.

  Flitch watched his liege enter the dungeon. Borland looked like he might have fallen from the heavens. His hair was golden and the brilliant blue eyes were framed by alabaster skin. Borland’s lips pursed in a bow shape that Flitch knew so well, was stretched into a smile of evil glee as he surveyed the prisoners. Flitch could accurately guess which of the people in the line would meet death’s door this day. His master was generous in allowing his men to participate in questioning each prisoner, and he could barely contain his exuberance at the prospect.

  He chose a shifter with the nature of a cat. The cat was orange and black stripes if he remembered, and he wondered how Flitch had gotten the man to come with him, without changing into the cat and running off or fighting till his death. “You will do nicely, I want to know what happened to the Chosen One for this year’s celebration. If you tell me truthfully where the siren is, I will grant you a swift death, and allow that death to be dignified.” He
ran one of his soft pudgy hands over the chained man’s belly, before using the other hand to slap the prisoner’s face. “I will get the answers I seek, and you will tell me every secret I ask you to tell before we are finished.”

  The shifter’s hatred was easily recognized. And again, he wondered how his dear right hand had obtained him. “Flitch? How did this male become so docile? Did he come willingly, to be sacrificed to the Demon Prince? Is his existence so miserable that he has a wish for death?” He waved his hand toward the two large beams standing straight up from the ground, and four soldiers pulled the man to them, fastened his wrists and ankles to the pillars spread eagling him, binding him with long thin leather strands.

  “My Lord, I merely took an interest in questioning his pregnant mate, and he offered to come with us to assist you in your endeavors. He has been cooperative the entire time. I believe he thought to protect the female from the journey to the Hall as she was very heavy with child. He claims to know nothing of the siren child.” He stepped close to where the man was tied and pulled the ragged shirt from his shoulders, revealing the raw ugly welts that Flitch’s whip had already made in preparation for this moment. “I questioned him on the way here, and he still remains witless.”

  Knowing Flitch as he did, he would bet the back of this prisoner was not the only place injuries had been inflicted, but he let that go once he saw the face of another prisoner in the line. His body stilled, and his breath caught in his throat.

  Staring at him with hatred and loathing, was his first mate, Velia. The very woman who had cursed him and died by his own hands. This must be a relative or some such. He had felt the air leave her body. Seen the way blood had seeped into the sockets of her eyes before he had loosened his fingers from her throat. Her beckoning fingers crooked toward him, luring him to her. His feet ate the short distance to stand in front of the beautiful woman. Her hand lifted to his head and she pulled him down to share a kiss, the sweetest kiss he had enjoyed since that fateful night he had lost his temper and killed her in a fit of rage. He groaned from the feel and taste of her.

  Flitch was laughing quietly, and he heard someone laughing outright, but refused to look away from the beauty holding his attention. “How is it possible that you are more beautiful than I remember? How can you be alive and whole instead of cold in your grave?” Her skin glowed and her arms encircled his shoulders, before she again set her lips to his. The sudden pain of sharp daggers breaking the skin covering his neck and back brought him from the sensual haze he had felt. His eyes opened and the screams coming from his mouth increased in volume in the room as he saw the skeletal face and grinning mouth wide open, snapping open and shut coming toward his face. He scrambled backwards, continuing to scream as he felt the dagger-like fingers slice through the material and skin they were grasping. He continued to walk backwards out into the open air, making earsplitting noises.

  Standing in the place of the creature of moments before was the crone that everyone but Lord Borland had seen being embraced and tenderly kissed by him. The lord had obviously had a hallucination. No man alive would willingly embrace the earthy smelling, gap-toothed elderly female, certainly not the fussy Lord of Morlien Hall. The sight of the evil-minded man screaming and fleeing backwards made a few of the soldiers and their captives snicker and laugh. The silence was quickly restored when Flitch turned hard eyes on the group. “Take the prisoners to cells and secure them until I tell you differently.”

  He followed his lord into the Hall, not knowing the crone had again changed forms to become Leroi, the Demon Prince. He had the soldiers subdued within mere seconds. “I see you are gearing up for yet another round of torturous fun with the villagers. One of you will now tell me what the questions are this time. What is Borland seeking that cannot be found at his fingertips?” He pulled the nearest soldier to him and was filled with laughter as he saw the wet stain rapidly spreading down the leg of the man’s pants. “You are a worthless one, I have not issued a threat or challenge, yet your cowardly actions make you unworthy of my sight.” He tossed the lout, ignoring the cracking sound of a skull crashing into the rock walls of the dungeon. His eyes began to gauge which soldier would give him at least an iota of a fight. Only one seemed to hold himself with any dignity, and that was belied by the fine tremble in the hand reaching for the sword at his side. “Boy, drop that hand or lose the life that you so cherish, I am not here for your souls, I am here to find out who Lord Pudding Bottom is searching for, and one of you will tell me. From the cowardly thoughts you are all shoving at me, I know it is a female, so save me the trouble and yourselves the fright by telling me what I wish to know.”

  The one soldier that he had picked out stepped forward, the tremble in his limbs remained, but it seemed the boy had found his voice after all. “Prince of Demons, we have no wish to offend you, but the knowledge you seek is not ours to know. If we tell you anything—our lives are forfeit, if we tell you nothing—our souls become yours. We are left with a no option choice. Truthfully, we know very little about the child.”

  Leroi watched the rest of the assemblage, a very young boy was fiddling with his fingers, twisting them around, and making faces. He pulled the child forward, and the male-child froze. The demon grinned, and placed his hand upon the boy’s head. He hissed a stream of smoke as he read the thoughts from the adolescent brain. He let his victim go, and stepped back. His eyes were narrowed when he grabbed the soldier nearest him, and held his head between both hands. His eyes began to glow red, and his skin darkened, before shaking his head and losing the man. “You will pass from this earth very soon, your soul is already mine, and I will remember you.

  “The one thing I want all of you to understand is this, I take souls that have become blackened by the deeds of their owners. I have no interest in petty sins, or kind lies. I will remember each of you, and know that I myself warned you before your actions condemn you to Demons Den.” He went to the cat shifter and shook his head. His fingernail extended to a razor sharp claw and he cut the man’s bindings. “You people leave and go to your homes. When Pudding Bottom’s minions come searching for victims, tell them I have ordered you to stay in your homes. Anyone that disregards my order will become mine. Any soldier ignoring my edict will be mine.” The boldest soldier was given the message to give to his superiors. “You are to tell Flitch and his master that I am waiting for them, they will not be allowed to hide behind a child, no matter the child’s lineage. I will no longer accept a sacrifice to purchase their souls for another year. I do not deal in the souls of children. I did not tell him I wished for a child, the ignorant fool must not have listened carefully when I told him of that which I seek. I have changed my mind now.” He clapped his hands and disappeared in a whirling cloud of choking yellow dust.

  No one wasted time waiting for further happenings to frighten them. The villagers’ fears made them stumble over one another to leave the dungeon, and the soldiers stood alone, wondering what to do now. No one wanted to be the bearer of the Demon Prince’s message to their overlord, or his right hand, Flitch. They were uncertain of their temperament at the best of times, who knew what they might do to the man that allowed the Demon to let the prisoners leave so easily. They were soldiers that followed orders, any orders given to them by their liege. Two of the four had been in the service of Lord Borland for more than a year. Those two men now knew for certain they were condemned for following the orders that they reluctantly carried out in the name of Morlien Hall.

  *****

  Flitch followed his lord to his rooms. There was no doubt the man was rattled and he wondered what exactly he had seen. In the years he had been in service to Borland, he had never seen him offer a tender embrace to any person or creature for that matter. The sight of the picky man embracing the hag was unsettling to say the least. The passionate kiss shocked him. Now the sight of the most feared man in the realm cowering in the darkest corner of his own room, sent a shiver of fear through him.

  Chapter Three
/>
  Wensel knew she was being watched. She had kept the disguise of being a male to lull her hosts into believing that she was only a caretaker of her niece. The child’s father had been Wensel’s brother, Dre, and his mate, Lolly’s child. Since Both of Aria’s parents perished in a fire, Wensel was the only being standing between the child and Lord Borland. Lolly had been a siren shifter, and she had been on Echo long enough to teach her baby to swim, that was the best thing she could have accomplished, because Wensel would have drowned if the tutoring had been left up to her.

  Aria was busily playing on the water’s edge, while Wensel kept her hands busy braiding lengths of leather into a long rope. She was making a long whip for each Tremble Lord, and while she would rather be at home snuggled inside the cave by the lagoon, instead of here, she felt content. Unfortunately their small haven had been discovered by the overlord and his soldiers. She’d barely escaped with the child by grabbing her hand and the two of them jumped into the deep waters of the lagoon before the soldiers knew they had escaped. Borland had come for Lolly in the first place, and when he discovered she was dead, he changed his focus onto the tiny girl.

  A boy only a head taller than Aria came to play in the water’s edge. The two children began using their hands and arm gestures to communicate. It was like nothing Wensel had seen before. The one small problem she had found when dealing with the little girl was a way to do what this boy was doing. Aria obviously understood every flash of his fingers and wave of his hands. She had been caring for the little one for the past two years, so either her mother had found the time to teach the small one this form of fingertalking, or the ability was innate. Whichever the case may be, Wensel needed to find the boy’s parents and ask to be taught the language.

  She began to rise when she felt a hand on her shoulder. Turning slowly, she met the gaze of the most beautiful woman she had ever seen. When she spoke, Wensel could remember the cadence of her sister-in-law’s words in the woman’s voice. She had to be a siren, there was little doubt in her mind. The woman’s unrivaled glowing beauty and singsong tone of voice clenched it.