Demon Bound: The Camelot Archive - Book One by R Nicole (love books to read .TXT) 📗

the keycard into the lock and pushed the door open.

“Let me do some work next time,” Elijah said, following me into the room. “You’re emasculating me.”

I made a face. “Threatened by women, are we?”

“What do you think? I spent the better part of the last week incapacitated.”

“Glad to see you’re feeling better.”

I checked the bathroom, then turned on the lights. Elijah walked past me and peered out of the window at the city beyond. The lights of Birmingham were bright, the lack of complete darkness jarring after Camelot.

“You don’t seem concerned about Wilder finding us,” I said as he swept the blackout curtains over the view.

“Your fancy sword-man won’t find anything,” Elijah replied, proceeding to open and close all the drawers in the bedside tables.

Speaking of swords, I realised I was unarmed. My arondight blade was still in Camelot and I had no cold iron dagger to speak of. All I had were my new abilities.

“Shame there’s two beds,” he said. “I enjoy being the big spoon.”

I rolled my eyes to cover my embarrassment. “Don’t think me saving you is a declaration of anything.”

He paused his curious searching and looked at me. “A declaration of what?”

“I’m taking a shower,” I snapped.

“Can I come?” Now he was just trolling me.

“No.”

He laughed, then flopped down on the bed closest to the window and picked up the TV remote. The old Elijah was back with a vengeance.

Closing the bathroom door, I listened to the hum of his channel surfing and sighed. It was going to take some getting used to travelling with a half-demon.

Stripping, I slunk into the shower and scrubbed the filth of my prison off my skin. The water beat down on my back, soothing the pain and stress of the past week from my mind.

What was I? I’d become something dangerous, that much was clear. Even Wilder seemed afraid of my potential and he was the embodiment of celestial power.

Light couldn’t stop me, neither could Darkness. That kind of power was unfathomable—there had to be a loophole. Nothing was absolute.

I shook my head and turned off the taps. Everyone I’d ever known hated me, and if they didn’t hate me, they feared me. I didn’t know which was worse. How had I become the enemy in my own story?

I stepped out of the shower and lingered in front of the mirror. Sweeping my palm across the condensation on the mirror, I stared at my reflection. My black hair was wet and stringy, my skin white and sallow, and my eyes… I blinked as the blue in my irises shimmered—red, silver, then dulled to grey. I rubbed my fists against my eyes and leaned closer to the mirror. Still grey like a monochrome pencil drawing.

The old Madeleine was dead and whoever was looking back at me was being reborn.

* * *

I emerged from the bathroom in a waft of steam, wrapped in one of the fluffy hotel bathrobes.

Elijah was where I’d left him, watching an infomercial on television, but there was a pile of clothes on the bed I hadn’t seen before.

“What’s that?” I asked. He’d been up to something while I was contemplating my terrible life choices in the shower. Trickery and chaos were in his nature, after all.

“While you were using up all the hot water, I glamoured some clean clothes out of the neighbours.”

“Elijah.” I picked up the jeans—which turned out to be an extremely convincing pair of jeggings—and scowled. “If we’re going to stick together, you need to stop stealing things.”

“Why? Humanity is crippled by consumerism. Most of the things they buy they don’t even need. Think of the environment.”

I shook my head and pulled on the jeggings, shimmying them on under the robe. We didn’t have time to wait around for my clothes to dry, so I was forced to accept Elijah’s stolen bounty.

He switched the TV off and grinned as I turned my back to put on the long-sleeved T-shirt. “Glad to see we’re on the same page.”

“I’ll find a way to pay it forwards.”

“Ever the Natural.” He smirked. “I forgot to get you a bra.”

I threw the bathrobe at his face. “No, you didn’t.”

He caught it with a chuckle and tossed it onto the floor. “You’re too clever for me.”

I lowered my gaze, imagining I could see his scars through his T-shirt. “Does it hurt?”

“My Darkness stops me from feeling any pain,” he replied stiffly.

The playful tone faded from the room and our predicament began to tug at me once more. We had to find the Dark and stop its plot against Camelot, then escape the clutches of both sides of the balance. Then the search for Elijah’s cure would begin. My identity problems seemed to be little more than a trifle compared to all of that.

“What will happen to you if we remove your mutation?” I asked. I hadn’t thought about the consequences removing his demonic side would have, much like I hadn’t thought of my own evolution.

“I don’t know…” he admitted. “I might wither and die on the spot, or I may live out the rest of my days as I was meant to.”

Watching him closely, I frowned. “You’re willing to take the risk?”

“You’ve seen my mood swings. They’re epic.” He smirked and held out his hand.

I slipped my palm against his, my shyness forgotten. It didn’t matter anymore.

“I can feel you,” he murmured.

I shivered, his words sliding over my body. “What is it like?”

“Infinity,” he whispered. “I can’t see where you end and I begin.”

“I don’t understand any of it,” I admitted as he tugged me onto the bed beside him. “I accepted this without knowing the consequences.”

“You didn’t have a choice, Madeleine. This is who you are.”

“I was made. How can—”

Elijah placed his finger over my lips. “Creation is a fickle concept,” he told me. “Your soul has transcended. What came before—your birth, your journey—is irrelevant. Only now exists.” He threaded his fingers through mine, locking our hands together.

I thought about the circuit I’d created between my two