Page 1 of Demons Treasure Warlocks

ChapterOne

The dream ended as it always did. Black-red skies, smoke everywhere, and bodies lying all over the streets of Granite. Some people Darius recognized; others were complete strangers. Most were victims of Darius’s indecision and desire to play nice.

A whisper in his ear and a tentacle wriggling up inside his back against his internal organs made his stomach lurch as Darius forced back the urge to throw up. The King in Yellow’s sickly sour-sweet breath wafted across Darius’s face as Hastur explained in excruciating detail what would happen to Bale and his friends. Granite was his, and he had a foothold in the human dimension.

Thanks to Darius.

Because of Darius, the evil had managed to break through the thin yet impenetrable wall separating the two universes. It was his fault the night of the Red Storm had happened. It was his fault that he fell in love with a mercenary demon.

Darius fought against the grip of the King in Yellow. He screamed as he freed himself from the tentacle lodged inside. The pain was excruciating, but he was free. Slick liquid dripped down his back as he stepped farther and farther away from the demon that declared his victory. There was no way in hell Darius was going to allow this shitstain to win.

He had to do something, something big, something Hastur, King in Yellow and Elder Demon, would never count on. He had to make the ultimate sacrifice, all for the love of people who didn’t think he could do it.

His life no longer mattered. Bale understood and would find him once more.

The dream ended there, where it always did.

With Darius’s death.

Darius forced himself to open his eyes and to step back into the real world where the future was still undecided. Nothing was set in stone. No one was going to die. Darius counted the glowing stars on his ceiling, finding the rhythm calmed him down. Two lumps bracketed him, one black and one orange. Their heads lifted, and they both meowed, unhappy with being woken up.

His babies were a gift from another dream. All he knew was he'd gone to sleep, and when he'd woken up, they were curled beside him. People always asked about the two tails and where they could get such unique creatures. Darius usually created an outlandish tale or stared the person down until they grew uncomfortable. Both versions worked.

The black cat—Master Cat—padded up to his face and bumped his cold nose against Darius’s cheek, soothing him with a familiar touch. It reminded him that Darius wasn’t alone. The orange beast—Bossy—stayed where he was, warm and stretched out against Darius’s side. The window was still dark, but it didn’t matter. It was the morning. He watched the sky shift and change colours, slowly turning into a steel grey shade.

The cats would announce their displeasure soon and tell him in no uncertain terms that they were starving and he hadn’t fed them in centuries.

It was a familiar routine and one Darius cherished. If he could get through the morning chores and pretend the end of all existence wasn’t nigh, he’d be fine. He was always fine. Every day, he whispered the same mantra over and over again.Get through the morning, feed the cats, and he’d be A-OK.

He swung his legs out of bed and paused as his head swam briefly. The dreams were sucking his energy away. And there was fuck-all he could do. To admit his weakness was to tell someone he wasn’t well.

How the fuck could he do that now? His friends looked to him as thede factoleader. They were treading water and barely holding on. He had to appear like he knew what the bad guys were doing and how Darius and his gang were going to epically defeat them.

Something Darius wasn’t sure was possible.

Darius could spend every day doing research into the history of Hastur, and he’d still only scratch the surface of what that asshole was. The human dimension barely had any mentions of Elder Demons, and the source was the Call of Cthulu by H.P. Lovecraft, an old-time science fiction writer. Humans never even considered Cthulu and his compatriots real. A snaky chill wormed its way down Darius’s back, reminding him of his nightmare.

Shuddering, he stood and dragged his flannel pants on before stumbling to the en suite bathroom. Deep purple rope lights outlined the room, giving off enough illumination for him to see without damaging his sleepy eyes. Darius brushed his black hair before pulling it into a ponytail with efficient moves. He didn’t do more than look at himself. Staring at his image terrified Darius. Every rib and muscle stood out, giving him a sickly appearance. Darius had never managed to get his weight back up to normal after Hastur betrayed him and drained away all his energy to feed the portal.

An angry yowl at the bathroom door had Darius jumping and turning to see Bossy glaring at him. He picked the heavy cat up and cuddled the soft body to his chest. Bossy Cat immediately began purring and kneading his paws against Darius’s shoulders, loosening some of the built-up tension.

“My apologies, I forgot this wasn’t feel sorry for Darius time. It’s feed Bossy and Master time.” Darius grabbed his bathrobe from a hook and draped it over his shoulder as he carried his demanding cat downstairs.

Master Cat preceded him, attempting to trip him as the three of them made their way to the kitchen. Once the cats were fed, he gazed out at the backyard. The small centering circle had been recreated by Lord Typhon, the town’s benevolent demon. He was a god of sorts to the cryptid population who liked helping his people. Typhon had changed the circle to suit his image so that if ever there was a problem, Darius, or whoever was using it, would be able to contact Lord Typhon quickly.

The stones were still native Ontarian, but the placement of the rocks had changed slightly in a way that didn’t make sense to Darius. He didn’t complain. It wasn’t his meditation spot anymore. The circle belonged to Adam now. Darius’s balance and peace were forever lost. Sometimes he wished he could find them again, but he never could. So, he carried on, shouldering the burden silently.

A nip at his ankles warned Darius he was sinking too far into his thoughts as he drifted. Glancing down, he saw the black floof staring back. “Apologies, Master Cat.”

Both Bossy and Master Cat sat at his feet, their tails lashing unhappily. They disliked it when he brooded. They much preferred it when he was in the front room with a fire going and games on the TV. He had to get his act together, if not for himself, then for the cats. They deserved better from him.

A glitter on the wind and small ice crystals forming on the windows warned Darius that he was about to get a guest. The small elemental sprites had taken to following Isaac everywhere he went. They found him endlessly fascinating. And now that he was a fledgling guardian, he was their hero.

Darius braced himself for the daily wellness check. Every morning Isaac popped by. It was nice at first, but it’d become irritating. Darius wanted one day where no one looked in on him. He was fine. And if it didn’t hurt to use magic, Darius would have barricaded the door to his cottage and refused all guests.

“Darius?” The door opened, and Isaac peeked in. He was wearing a knit toque, and his cheeks were pink from the cold air. He smiled when he saw Darius. “You’re awake. Hi.”

“You’re a mated man, and you were going to sneak into my bedroom? How scandalous, Isaac. What would Caspian say?” Darius teased and smirked as colour filled Isaac’s sweet face.

---