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  Demon Within

  Rebecca Royce

  Dakota Daniels is an exorcist. Or at least she used to be, until a demon destroyed her life, killing her mother and sending her into hiding. She never knows what’s around the next corner or whether she’ll live through the night.

  Brady Knox, billionaire tech guru and media darling, is a man used to getting what he wants. Except when it comes to his sister Sydney. She is the secret he never tells a soul. After all, how do you tell the world your sister has been possessed since she was ten years old without seeming like a lunatic?

  When Brady seeks out Dakota’s assistance, he expects to get it. When she doesn’t comply, he’s willing to use every resource at his disposal—even if that means seducing her into doing his bidding.

  Dakota’s body yearns for Brady but she isn’t easily fooled, and if she decides to help him it will be on her own terms—assuming they can both make it through the night with their souls intact.

  A Romantica® erotic horror romance from Ellora’s Cave

  Demon Within

  Rebecca Royce

  Chapter One

  Her mother would have said hot weather in February meant the devil had come out to play with the humans for a spell. But the newscasters said climate change was causing the balmy winter nights in Queens.

  Maybe they were both right.

  The long-dead voice of her mama wafted through her tired mind. Come on, Dakota girl, let’s send the demons back to where they belong and tell them not to bother us here. You and me, we’ll send them back.

  “Excuse me.”

  Dakota jumped an inch in the air and whirled around, the keys to the nursery school falling from her hand onto the sidewalk, clanking as they hit the ground. Her heart lodged in her stomach as she automatically reached to cover her throat. She didn’t like surprises and she liked being snuck up on even less.

  Behind her stood a stranger, illuminated by the overhead light that came on at 6 p.m. every evening. She could see him quite well despite the dimming sunlight and the impending darkness. Tall and broad-shouldered, he filled out his gray suit as though it had been tailor-made for him, which she suspected it had been since it looked just like the ones she saw in advertisements with names like Versace and Armani on them. Hours spent reading fashion magazines coupled with her summer job in a department store had taught her to tell the difference between real and fake couture.

  Not wanting to be surprised by a demon she knew she would be ill-prepared to deal with, she turned on her second sight and took a quick glance at his aura. It hurt to open her third eye—not surprising, since it had been eight years since she’d willingly engaged in the activity.

  Grays, blues and purples surrounded the handsome stranger’s head. They were good colors. Intense but not provocative. No reds and oranges to indicate hostile intent, and she couldn’t see any trace of the black that came with demonic possession. She exhaled her relief. Golds, yellows and even white would be better than his current appearance, but she didn’t need to worry about gray, blue and purple. The gentleman in front of her might be agitated, but not angry or dangerous.

  Not possessed.

  Of course that could change in a second…

  She cleared her throat. “You scared me.”

  He inclined his head to the left, showing off his long face. A five o’clock shadow covered his chin and cheeks. Dark hair, almost black, sat neatly on top of his head, and above his brown eyes lay thick—two distinct and well-manicured—eyebrows. Her mama would have said his face held character and distinction.

  “I’m sorry about that. Are you Dakota Daniels?”

  She nodded, bending over to pick up her keys. He might not mean her harm but she didn’t want to assume he wasn’t there to rob the place. Her boss would never understand her running away and leaving the nursery school unlocked. Turning around, she let him look at her back while she inserted the key to make everything secure. The movement also gave her a moment to collect herself. Finally she turned back.

  “I am. Did you need something?”

  He paused before he answered. “I’m Brady Knox.”

  Dakota always preferred to know the names of the people she talked to but it seemed an odd answer to her question. She hadn’t asked him his name, just what he needed.

  Her instincts warred with her curiosity, begging her to move on with her night. Nothing good ever came out of the strange—only death and doom.

  She inched farther away from him, down the sidewalk toward her car. He’d either understand her nervousness or think her crazy. In any case, she preferred to be a little closer to escape. Her cell phone burned a hole in her pocket, reminding her that she could call for help too if the situation warranted it. Dakota might be paranoid but she could never let herself forget why she’d disappeared in the first place.

  “You don’t know who I am.” He phrased his words as a statement of surprise, not a question, which told Dakota that presumably she should have known him.

  “I’m sorry, I don’t. Are you the father of one of the children here?” She scanned through her mind. Knox. Nope. She couldn’t come up with any child with that last name. Of course, some of the kids had their mother’s last name. Maybe that explained it…

  “Most people do. Maybe this is the wrong environment.” He rubbed his eyes as if he felt tired. “I’m going to have to think about how we can become more integrated into this kind of educational situation.”

  “What?” He might as well have been speaking Latin. Actually, she amended that thought, if he’d spoken in that language she’d have understood some of it. Her previous profession had occasionally required her to know it.

  “I own a company that makes a widely used piece of software. Lately we’ve been getting a lot of recognition. You’ll have to excuse me. I really don’t think of myself as a celebrity but since the morning news programs started focusing on us, people frequently recognize me or know my name.”

  His statement seemed contradictory. If he thought people knew his name, then he did think of himself, sort of, as a celebrity. She didn’t feel like arguing with him as she still had no idea what he wanted.

  “Do you have a child here?”

  His mouth twisted into a small grin before falling back into place. “No. I don’t have any kids.”

  Dakota looked up at the sky, hoping for some kind of divine interference. Her heart rate picked up. Her palms were damp. What should she do? Run away like a lunatic or find out why this man had sought her out? “Then how can I help you?”

  “You’re a hard woman to find.”

  “I don’t like the sound of that.” Running would have been the smarter move.

  “You’ve changed your name about ten times.” He raised a dark eyebrow. “Am I right? I know about ten but I guess you could have done it more than that.”

  Twelve, if he wanted to be exact. Not that she intended to share that information. “Are you from the IRS? I’ve paid all my taxes in every name.”

  She could only wish he’d come looking for money…

  Brady laughed, the movement taking some of the heaviness from his face. How old was this man? He could be anywhere from thirty to forty. The worry lines around his mouth and eyes made it hard to be certain.

  “I’m told you can help my sister.”

  “Does she have a child who needs to be taught in nursery school?” Dakota could play dumb for as long as it took, although doing so seemed somewhat asinine. He knew what he wanted and she knew what he was after too. But self-preservation made her do things that might otherwise seem ridiculous. Such as pretend she had somehow lost her memory of her old life and had no idea what he was talking about. Terror surged through her veins, making her hands vibrate. She shoved them into her pink knit sweater
, which the kids loved so much, and waited for his anger to start.

  “I don’t blame you for being cautious. Nanette said you would be resistant to seeing me.”

  “Nanette shouldn’t have told you about me at all.” Damn. She closed her eyes for a moment before opening them, knowing she’d now resigned herself to acknowledging what he wanted from her.

  “She’s very sorry.” He took a step forward and put his hands in his pockets. She had the strangest desire to move and allow him to embrace her in his warmth. He’d wrap his arms around her, pulling her to him, letting her forget…everything.

  “She would have told you herself how sorry she was if she could find you. But like I said, you’re hard to find.”

  Dakota shook her head. “I had hoped that removing a demon from her body would have earned me the right to count on her discretion. Silly me. Apparently her gratitude only lasted seven years.”

  She’d been twenty-one when she and her mother had taken on that case. Dakota had walked away…barely. Her mother had wound up six feet under.

  “You’re feisty.” He grinned. “You’d have to be, I guess, to do what you do.”

  “Yep. Three-year-olds can be downright hard to handle. Have to have lots of gumption to work here.”

  Dakota turned on her heel. She’d had enough of this conversation.

  “We both know I’m talking about performing exorcisms.”

  He bounded away from the wall—she could hear his fast footsteps catching up with her.

  She stopped walking and faced him. Her mother had taught her to never turn away from the enemy. It gave them too much power. In this case, Brady Knox had assumed that role. “Well, whatever we’re talking about, I’m afraid you’ve wasted your time tracking me down. I don’t do that anymore. No exceptions. Sorry. Unless I can help you with some kind of nursery school needs, you’ve wasted your time.”

  “I need help with my sister.”

  Is he deaf?

  “Not my problem. Go find a psychiatrist. Nine times out of ten they’re schizophrenic. Nothing as glamorous as a good old possession, but that’s the truth, I’m afraid.”

  “Sydney has been under the care of hundreds of psychiatrists and healers for the last twenty-five years. Since we were ten.”

  He’d said “we”—that made them twins. Growing up, Dakota had always wanted a twin so she wouldn’t be so alone in her mother’s world. Someone to share her burdens.

  “I’m sorry she’s so ill but that doesn’t change my stance on this. I can’t afford to get involved in that world again. Hell, I’m not even sure I could help you. It’s been so long since I even made an attempt, I’ve probably lost all my skills.”

  He touched her shoulder with his strong hand. With a gentle squeeze, he infused her body with more heat than she’d felt in…well, ever. God, she must really be hard up if a touch from a man could make her get that excited. She swallowed the lump in her dry throat.

  “That’s the thing. She might be ill. I’ve always believed that. My parents tried everything they could think of to help her, including an exorcism by a priest, which went very badly. My mother was raised Catholic, my father Jewish. They both considered themselves atheists until Sydney couldn’t get better. Then my mother’s heritage came roaring back to her. At that point my dad would have tried anything, so they found a priest…”

  Dakota sighed. She’d heard this story before. Not every priest performing exorcisms knew what he was doing. Some of them were great, but the ones who were not often presented more of a problem than a solution.

  “Why do you think she’s possessed?” She shouldn’t have asked the question but as he stood touching her arm, her heart had melted to his plea. The families of the victims were always the hardest part for her to endure. They just wanted someone to help them with their loved ones—sometimes they even begged. It always made her want to cry.

  “Because when she took sick…we were fooling around with a Ouija board.”

  She shook her head. “It’s a children’s toy. Not a beacon for Satan.”

  “It started to move on its own…or Sydney pushed it. I don’t know. We were asking it all kinds of questions, like when I’d make my first million dollars. Stupid stuff. And it started to move. She cried out that it wasn’t her doing it…and then things went awry.”

  “I can imagine.” Dakota backed away from his gentle embrace, trying to put some real distance between them. It would undo her and she needed to be strong. “If something happened with the Ouija board it was only because a demon already resided in the house with you. You didn’t call it using a piece of plastic. Maybe it waited until then to mess with you because it found it amusing to do so. Who knows? Evil doesn’t make sense.”

  Brady paled as she spoke. He’d wanted her help and now he looked as though he wanted to be sick.

  “Or maybe, Brady, she’s really just sick with a psychiatric disorder and the game triggered something in her. Either way, I can’t help you. Good luck finding someone who can.”

  He closed the distance between them. His strides were long and determined as he made his way to her side. She managed to get a whiff of his scent—discreetly she hoped. He smelled clean, like soap instead of cologne, plus she got the aroma of mint, as if he’d just brushed his teeth. She longed to taste that for herself on her tongue, even though she knew to do so would be akin to a miracle, not something that happened very often in her world.

  Turning on her heel, she headed down the sidewalk. Two cars were parked in the lot of the school. The small, very functional fifteen-year-old Honda was hers and she could only assume Brady owned the Lexis SUV sitting farther away.

  “I’m going to walk you to your car.” His voice brooked no argument but she didn’t take orders well.

  “It’s right there.”

  “I want to make sure you get there safely.”

  “Brady.” She grabbed his arm and he looked down at her. “There’s nowhere that’s really safe. You know that, don’t you?”

  He nodded but strode next to her until she reached her vehicle.

  Turning, she realized this would be the last time she’d ever see him. Unless she Googled him, which she fully intended to do when she got home.

  “Look. You seem like a nice man. You care about your sister. That’s wonderful. But I think it would be smarter for you to go on with your life. She’s either very sick or beyond help at this point. Even if someone can get it out of her, there’s no saying she’ll ever be okay.”

  “Nanette seems fine.”

  “Appearances can be deceiving.” Nanette was far from fine. “And she only had it in her for a short period of time.”

  Brady clenched his fists. “I’m afraid I can never stop trying to cure her, whether it be medically or by…other means.”

  She scratched her head, the late evening wind making the air cool but not frigid. Brady looked beautiful in the moonlight. It wasn’t fair. Men shouldn’t be so perfect to look at.

  “Why is that?”

  “Because it was my idea to play with the Ouija. Either way, it’s my fault.”

  * * * * *

  Dakota held the sage up to the corner of her room. She’d burned it around most of the apartment now. Not that it would particularly help if a demon felt like visiting her, but it couldn’t hurt and at least it let her feel as if she were doing something productive rather than sitting around like some kind of willing victim. Nothing had particularly changed. She was no more likely to be assaulted by a demon now than she’d been the day before. Only now she was focused on it again.

  The smell of the sage did nothing to ease her mind. It brought back too many nights when she’d helped her mother to smudge any apartment or hotel room they happened to be staying in. When she’d been little, her mother had made a game of it, singing as they worked.

  Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme…

  Damn Brady Knox for bringing it all back to her. And damn Nanette for telling him about her in the first place. What c
ould the woman have been thinking?

  Nanette Raines. Her mother’s last client. Not that they’d ever been paid. Trina McAdams hadn’t cared whether or not the possessed could afford her services. Their gifts were for a higher calling, a karmic good. They’d be taken care of. Except that sometimes Dakota had gone to bed with her stomach half-empty and Trina hadn’t eaten at all.

  Nanette’s mother hadn’t known where Nanette had picked up the demon but she’d been sure she carried one inside her. As it turned out she’d been correct. They had started the ritual. Trina had done all the hard work and Dakota had assisted her. She’d never exorcised a demon herself.

  But things had gone to hell…literally. First the room had started to smell like sulfur. Never a good sign. It meant the beast had power and was not your ordinary, run-of-the-mill evildoer come up from Hades to take a human body.

  The demon had risen from the body. Dakota had thought that meant the job was almost finished. Except it hadn’t been her mother’s ministrations that had brought the demon from Nanette’s body—the creature had just seen a preferable target. Trina would make a much more valuable vessel for possession.

  She could still remember her mom’s screams as the only person Dakota loved in the world had clawed and torn at her own skin.

  Nanette, unconscious, had never seen what happened next and for that Dakota figured she should be grateful. No one else would ever know her true shame.

  With all the practice she’d done, all the times she’d assisted her mother, when it came down to removing the demon from Trina, Dakota had frozen. The demon hadn’t been satisfied with just taking Trina. In those minutes while Dakota had been unable to move, unable to think, the demon had stopped her mother’s heart.

  He’d killed her.

  And that was when Dakota had finally come out of her crazed stupor and managed to destroy the thing before he jumped again. She hardly remembered the words she’d spoken or the energy she’d channeled at it, but finally it had been gone.

  So had her mother.