Dean stared down at the street below watching as Kane exited the building with the beautiful Skye and Aurora in tow. If Aurora wasn’t already mated to Michael, he’d swear the two Fallen belonged together. The way they loved each other so unconditionally reminded him of things he had long forgotten and it left him with a slight case of melancholy.
Had he ever been like them or had he been born as cold and hard as he felt right now? Dean sighed not wanting to search his own soul in fear of the answer. He’d made up his mind a long time ago to become what he was now in order to protect those with softer hearts and he refused to regret that sacrifice.
He remained still when Skye turned and looked up at him as if sensing he was being watched. It was good that the boy’s instincts were so sharp… he would need them to protect himself and the ones he loved in the coming days. He wished he had the time it would take to make sure Kriss and Skye became closer but his time was running out.
He felt a twinge of guilt and jealousy as he imagined Skye looking at Kriss the same way he looked at Aurora. He closed his eyes trying to stop the intrusive visual of them making love long after he was gone.
Hearing soft footsteps, Dean opened his eyes seeing Kriss in the reflection of the window as he approached from the kitchen and quickly hid his inner turmoil. Kriss hadn't said a word when the two younger Fallen had announced they were going with Kane to visit Michael but he could see the worry in his lover’s eyes. He had always been able to read Kriss so well and was glad Kriss did not have the same ability.
“It’s a good thing Kane is chaperoning them tonight,” Kriss mused coming up behind Dean. “Do you think he can handle Michael if he begins to lose control?”
Dean cocked an eyebrow, not really sure what the answer to that question was. “Tell me, do you remember when we went head to head with Kane before Syn intervened and tossed us off the roof of that building like rag dolls?” He watched as Kriss’s lips thinned at the memory.
“Yes,” Kriss slid his arms around Dean and placed his chin on Dean’s shoulder. “I am aware that Syn probably saved us from a serious hurting that night.”
Dean hardened his voice so Kriss would be sure to listen. “Then you will agree with me when I tell you that we need to stay out of Michael’s way for now. I trust Kane to know what to do and if he needs back up, he can always call on their father.” Dean leaned back into Kriss’ embrace enjoying the moment of peace it gave him.
“Hey Kriss,” Tabatha called from the kitchen where she was empting the dishwasher. “Your kitchen is like an immaculate maze. Where do you keep your salad spoons?”
Kriss pressed his lips against the most sensitive part of Dean’s neck just under his earlobe and tightened his arms as a thank you for letting Tabatha visit for a while. He lifted his eyes back to their refection catching sight of the shiver his lips had caused and took a step back.
“Coming,” he called out over his shoulder and forced himself to turn and head toward the kitchen.
Dean watched him go with a soft smile on his face but the expression faded as soon as Kriss was out of sight. Gritting his teeth, he looked down at his throbbing arm. It was getting harder and harder to fight the pain but in truth, he was surprised he’d lasted this long without giving himself away.
Pushing the sleeve up, Dean frowned at the blackness that had formed there and hissed as the opening stretched and ripped open another inch of his flesh as if wanting him to see what was forming inside him before the edge of the wound narrowed.
If it had been a normal wound, it would have started out as an angry red gash that would probably be showing the final stages of healing by now. But this was no ordinary wound and there was a long black rip where the Demon Blade had penetrated him… going in one side of his forearm and out the other.
As he stared down at the ugly wound, he noted that the blackness within was beginning to move around and grow stronger. He was losing the battle and he knew it. The black soul thriving inside him wanted to live… but then, so did Dean.
He remembered the way Kriss had screamed at him, yelling about him taking on the Demon Blade and nearly getting himself killed. Kriss was still under the impression that if you were struck by the blade that you would go down in overwhelming pain immediately and he was right… but only if the victim was human or at least tainted with human blood.
He’d lied to Kriss… assured him that he was immune to the Demon Blade and since he was still standing, Kriss had believed him because he wanted it to be true. It calmed Dean’s soul just knowing that Kriss could no longer hide the love he had for him. His anger and worry had been a dead giveaway. Now it would all come to a quiet end. It would make Kriss stronger in the long run.
Dean was glad that Kriss had never been exposed to the real dangers of a Demon Blade during the demon wars since he hadn't arrived until the war was practically over. Because of that, Kriss didn’t know what happened to a Fallen that had been struck by one… he only knew what happened to the human victims.
Many Fallen had died from such an attack during the demon wars and Samuel had thrown the weapon intending for the blade to give Aurora a slow and painful death… his final gift to the female Fallen that had betrayed him. The innocent Skye hadn't known the consequences of his actions when he tried to protect Aurora by swinging her around and presenting his own back to the deadly blade.
The boy would have paid the ultimate price and there would have been no coming back from it. He wouldn’t regret saving Skye… he wouldn’t regret any of it.
Dean closed his eyes and jerked the cloth back down his arm to hide the evidence of the demon growing inside him. He’d been one of the few of their kind to survive the wound of a Demon Blade… but it was only because of his strength, both physical and mental. He was captain of the royal guard and therefore had been trained to have the strength to withstand anything… even the pain and influence of sharing his body with the soul of a demon.
The problem that concerned Dean the most was that the demons ‘born’ from a Demon Blade were not newborns… the weapon actually created tiny dimensional rifts inside the ones the blade was used against. In short, the Demon Blade allowed the souls of ancient demons to cross back over and be reborn into the human realm through the body of its victim.
The survival of a Demon Blade attack depended on whose soul was the strongest… the victim or the resurrected demon. His soul had won the last time and the demon had died inside him tainting his own blood with the acidity of it but because of that he’d became that much stronger.
Samuel had been one of the originals, among the first demons to take a breath of Earth’s air. These were powerful demons as they were spawned by the most powerful Fallen… mostly royalty as it was the scientists of the royal bloodline that had created the rift between dimensions. Because of this, there was a very good chance the soul growing inside him was also an original.
Another pain shot up his arm and Dean grimaced when he felt his skin around the wound move in a sickening manner. It wouldn’t be long now and he knew he needed to leave in order to save Kriss the horror of what was about to happen. As it stood now, his chances of surviving this were dwindling by the hour.
With a heavy sigh, Dean walked toward the kitchen and leaned against the doorway just watching Kriss and Tabatha pretend to sword fight with long wooden cooking spoons. The expression didn’t show on his face but at the moment he was content. Kriss was stronger now than he’d ever seen him and that was what mattered.
Kriss
