The Last Unforgiven - Freed (Demons, #5)

by Simcoe, Marina

  “I didn’t see you enter.”

  “Back door,” he explained. “I had a feeling you may not want to come in had you known I’d be here. The emotions I saw in you during our last encounter led me to believe you would not be eager to see me again.”

  My mind went back to that night in the Rocky Mountains.

  “You ordered a brutal beating of one of your own,” I reminded, a fact that Raim could not dispute or excuse because I had witnessed it with my own eyes.

  “Ivarr has fully healed since and is now happily mated to a human,” he replied calmly, without any visible remorse or regret, just as I should have expected. If demons were cold, unfeeling creatures not to be trusted, as their former long-time Grand Master, Raim must be the worst one of them all.

  “No thanks to you, I’m sure,” I muttered.

  “No,” he agreed. “I tried to prevent human-demon unions from happening, but I failed.” His jaw flexed. Something hard and cold gleamed in his eyes before his expression shifted back to neutral again and he changed the subject, “What do you know about your grandparents?”

  “What about them?”

  “There is very little information on your ancestors available in public records. It’s almost as if the records have been deliberately hidden or deleted. Nothing beyond their names and birthdays.”

  “That is all that got recorded for many people back when they were born.” I wondered about the purpose of his questions. “Why are you researching my family? What exactly do you want to know?”

  “Right now, I’m interested in any information about your ancestors. Places where they lived, occupations, any extended family members, their friends, people they might have known . . . Normally, there is a lot to be found about people if one knows where to look.”

  “Why do you need to know that?”

  His gaze slid off me for a few moments until he spoke again. “How did your mother come into the possession of the amulet?”

  “Well, that most likely has nothing to do with my grandparents. I’ve learned that The Priory has a number of amulets in their possession. All high-ranking Monks wear one as a protection from your kind, apparently. I suspect my father might have gotten ours from them, one for my mom and one for himself. He gave his to my brother. It was of a different shape, though. An inverted cone that my father had carved into a curved claw.”

  “Did he also modify yours in any way?”

  “I honestly don’t know. As long as I remember, mine has always been this shape. Why do you need to know all of this?” I repeated the question since he had yet to give me the answer.

  Instead of replying, Raim unexpectedly reached over the table, bringing his hand to my chest. I shrank back instinctively. Before the surprise had a chance to turn to alarm in me, though, he gently picked the pendant off my dress, rolling it between his fingers. The light inside it swirled and swished with the movement. It appeared to reach out of the stone and curl around his hand.

  “It is simply gorgeous,” I whispered, mesmerized.

  “Most of the soros stone amulets were carved long ago,” Raim said softly, not taking his eyes off the shining tear in his hand. “All were of different shapes back then, with no two of them alike. I’ve never heard of one being altered before, but I suppose it is possible.”

  The back of his hand brushed by my chest just above my breasts, and I wished I had a more solid barrier between my skin and his touch than just the silk of my dress. At the same time, something much deeper in me wished even for the dress to be gone, longing for skin-to-skin contact.

  I blinked at the sudden notion.

  Not so long ago, I firmly believed that the touch of a demon meant nothing but destruction and death to a woman. Since then, hundreds of human women had willingly mated with Incubi and lived with them as their wives.

  This did not prove Incubi were any more honest or trustworthy in my opinion, just that feeding them could be tolerated and even enjoyed.

  From Kitty, who was now married to Ivarr, I got a deeper insight into the demons’ world. She claimed they were happy, but their union still bred so many doubts in me. Over time, I got genuinely attached to Kitty and would hate to see her get hurt.

  There must be a certain imbalance in any human-demon relationship. Wouldn’t demons always see humans as their food sources, first and foremost? To be used for their sexual energy? What else would keep them together? Even human relationships failed—mine had deteriorated in barely a decade. How could any relationship last through the several centuries of a Forgiven demon’s lifespan?

  True equality would be impossible to achieve in these unions, in my opinion. It was in Incubi’s very nature to take. Always. A human woman would forever be the one giving, with nothing but good sex in return. Would a satisfying sexual relationship be enough to sustain a marriage for centuries? I did not believe it would.

  Although, good sex had its value, in some situations . . .

  Raim’s hand stilled at my chest, and I became suddenly aware of the heat of his body seeping through my dress to my skin. The awareness fluttered in ripples down my bare arms and legs.

  I quickly snapped my gaze to his face, hoping to find him still too absorbed by the pendant to notice the change in me.

  His eyes met mine, crushing my hope—it was clear he saw everything. A bright flash of light reflected in his gaze, and my heart dropped with dread—he was feeding. Off my emotions.

  I’d heard about the way Incubi fed. They either skimmed positive emotions, plucking them from the air right after they had left the human body, or took them directly through skin-to-skin contact.

  Right now, Raim was skimming. The pinkish blue light flashing through his eyes was the giveaway.

  “I did not give you permission to feed off me.” My voice came out hollow from the trepidation vibrating through me.

  There was absolutely no sensation from him skimming, yet the very fact that he had made me his Source so easily was disturbing.

  “I never asked for permission.” His voice dipped. A heated glow burned just behind the ice in his gaze, drawing me in. My unease dissolved in a wave of desire pulsing in my belly. Suddenly, I understood exactly how all those hundreds of women got entrapped, each by her own Incubus.

  Irresistible was the word used by many of them.

  The fact that I was not immune to Incubi charm heated my face with anger. Right now, I much preferred being angry to being scared. I held on to the rage, using it to battle my arousal.

  “Fuck it,” I cursed under my breath, slamming my hand on the table and making a move to get up. “Sorry I couldn’t be more helpful to you, but then again neither were you useful to me, so—”

  “Stay.” His hand covered mine firmly.

  Cold spread up to my wrist from his touch, setting off alarms inside me. My anger ebbed, however. Fear and panic never had a chance to form. I realized what had just happened—Raim took my negative emotions.

  By taking directly from the Source through skin-to-skin contact, Incubi were capable of altering what humans felt—with my negative emotions now gone, the positive ones had room to grow. Lust immediately flared up inside me, shooting a charge of heat from my chest to my lower stomach.

  “You’re playing dirty,” I breathed out.

  “I believe you may need my kind of dirty,” he retorted, unfazed.

  The gaze of his blue eyes kept me in place as he peered straight into my very soul. I felt completely stripped of my clothes and of every shred of pretend composure I had mustered in self-defence.

  I knew he could see it all. My lust, my hurt, my loneliness, my desperation to forget—all laid bare for his cool, detached inspection.

  “I have to go.” I made an attempt to free my hand from his, but he only held tighter.

  “Go, where?”

  I didn’t reply. His tone of voice implied he didn’t need my answer, he already knew that no one was waiting for me anywhere. That there was no place where I was needed right now. Either in the
empty hotel room in Zurich or in the ransacked townhouse in Seattle, I’d be alone, fighting my inner demons on my own.

  He shifted his hand on mine, sliding his fingers under my palm, the pad of his thumb gliding across my knuckles in a slow, entrancing caress.

  “You know I could be useful to you.” His voice was low, but not soft. Slithering, deep and seductive, like a serpent gliding between the leafy branches of an apple tree, it enthralled me. “Whatever it is you long for tonight, I can give it to you.”

  His words hit me with the realization that once again he was right.

  He truly could give me a night to remember.

  Raim would never offer me what Kris would. But I did not come here looking for someone like Kris—honest, open, and vulnerable. Someone who could be easily and irrevocably hurt.

  I wanted a night of mindless sex, with no attachments, just raw passion, delivered by someone emotionally indestructible. Raim was a sex demon, after all, which ensured that the physical part was guaranteed to be satisfying.

  I slid my gaze along his fierce, handsome face and down his strong, incredibly well-shaped body.

  “You’ll have to let go of my hand,” I said, with a little more force than before. “I need to make sure that my feelings are completely my own right now.”

  He released my hand without arguing, and I quickly withdrew it to my lap. I briefly eyed the martini on the table, wishing I could take a swig of it to add to the previous liquid courage. When negotiating with a demon, though, one needed a clear mind, so I left the glass where it stood.

  “I need . . .” Staring at the table was a million times easier, but I had to see his reaction, even if his stony expression didn’t reveal much. “I want to get laid tonight.” I met his prying gaze straight on, laying it all on the table. “Is that what you’re offering?”

  He tilted his head slightly, the glint in his eyes seemed to be one of amusement, this time. “That was exactly what I meant.”

  “No strings. No lies. No expectations,” I listed my conditions in a stern, clipped voice, not sharing his lighter mood.

  “Understood.”

  “You’re not touching my life force,” I added hurriedly, remembering how women used to be killed at the Incubi Base. Their lives were drained, letting them drift off into a blissful sleep that they would never wake from again. “Not a drop. I’ll be well and alive in the morning.”

  “That’s a given.”

  Things have changed since those dark times. Women were no longer held captive at either of the Incubi Bases. Those who paired up with the demons did so willingly. I had every reason to believe my life was not in danger.

  “No need to be afraid.” He reached for my hand again, but I tucked it deeper into my lap, refusing to touch him yet.

  “I’m not afraid of you, demon.” The echo of trepidation was still there—no way to get rid of it completely. My nervousness, however, only added to the excitement and anticipation. “What are you getting out of it?” I asked him.

  “A meal.” He slid his glowing gaze down my body, as if slathering me in glaze and sauce. “You’ll be my dinner tonight.”

  In his case, the statement was literal—Incubi fed on human emotions, especially sexual energy. He’d be consuming my lust, my arousal, every orgasm I was hoping he would give me tonight. As long as I got what I needed, too—a night of pleasure to forget my pain and loneliness.

  “Other than my life force, you can take and skim whatever you want as long as it does not interfere with my enjoyment of . . . um, tonight’s activities.”

  Not breaking our eye contact, Raim leaned back. An indulgent smile ghosted his lips.

  “Far be it from me to withhold satisfaction from a woman.”

  His gaze remained firm, his tone earnest and his expression unreadable, like always.

  “It’s a deal then.” I got up from my chair, offering him my hand.

  Despite the firmness I’d instilled into my voice, nervous jitters still shook through me. Caution still tried to bud through the layers of my determination, intoxication, and building lust. Instead of dealing with my inner demons right now, though, I far preferred spending the night with one in flesh and blood.

  “Deal.” He got up and took my hand. “You want me to make you forget?”

  I nodded, not even surprised he knew that, too.

  Instead of a handshake, Raim yanked me his way. “Then I’ll fuck you into oblivion,” he said in a low, deep voice, straight into my ear. The heat in his tone broke through his icy composure.

  Every trace of caution and hesitation evaporated, blown away by his promise. Hope and anticipation flooded me head to toe.

  “Good.” I followed him out of the club, making sure not to trip in my heels as my knees felt weak and my mind cloudy.

  This was a business transaction. An equal exchange where I fully intended to do my share of taking.

  Chapter 4

  RAIM

  “This is not a hotel,” she stated when the taxi dropped them off at the airport.

  Delilah was a beautiful name. It suited her. However, Raim overheard her father refer to her as Dee once, and he liked that name better. It was softer, more intimate.

  Raim had managed to sneak his hand on top of hers, furtively taking some of her mistrust, fear, and caution on the way here. She had accused him of playing dirty, and that was exactly what he did, chipping away at her negative emotions, to let the lovely glow of desire in her build stronger.

  “I thought you might be interested in an adventure.” He slipped his thumb across the back of her hand, to soothe the chilling sensation she would be feeling while he took her alarm and concern away.

  Thankfully, she seemed to be too absorbed in her thoughts and too distracted to notice his taking.

  “Isn’t fucking a demon an adventure on its own?” she muttered under her breath, after he had helped her out of the taxi then manoeuvred them both through the airport building. “We could do it in any hotel room in the city.”

  A stubborn defiance broke through the dark cloud of pain that shrouded her emotions. It made her snappy, but he preferred that to the gloom of sadness otherwise hanging over her.

  “Tonight, I would like to feed at home,” he told her.

  “At home? We’re going to your house?”

  A service agent from the charter company he used met them at the counter and led the way outside to the private airplane parked on the tarmac. Airport lights shone bright here, shredding the darkness of the night, bringing a red glow to Dee’s silk dress, and bouncing off her neat, glossy hairdo.

  At the sight of the airplane, her eyes grew larger.

  “Where the hell are you taking me?’ She dug her stiletto heels into the pavement, refusing the tug of his hand.

  “Pisa,” he said casually, carefully taking some of her alarm once again.

  “What?”

  “Pisa, it’s a city in Italy—”

  “I know where Pisa is. Why would we go there?”

  He could not fully explain the reasons, not even to himself. His energy was low, he needed to feed, but Delilah was right, he could simply take her to any hotel room in Zurich instead of risking a possible spike of fear or mistrust, which might force her to cancel their agreement.

  “From Pisa,” he said, “it’s just a half-an-hour helicopter ride to the island of Sirena Scalo—my place. Well, one of them.”

  Raim didn’t want a hotel. Neither did he wish to return to his property here, in Switzerland. The Priory knew of its location. He also heard that Stolas, the new Grand Master of the Western Council who went by the human name of Andras, was searching for him, probably needing some information to deal with The Priory.

  None of it mattered anymore, all of that was irrelevant now that the end of their existence was finally near.

  On the island, he would have her all to himself, with no possibility of anyone interrupting them. There she could scream in pleasure as loud as she wished, without the fear of anyone overh
earing.

  He mentioned that last part to her.

  “Oh.” She smoothed the hair over her temple as the warm spring breeze blew the long skirt of her dress around her legs. A lovely shade of pink coloured her pale cheeks, and he fought the desire to touch her face. “This just seems to be way too much trouble for a one-night stand, Raim,” she said softly.

  The storm of pain and darkness inside her challenged him. He was looking forward to bringing her other emotions to the surface, making those brilliant colours he had glimpsed in her light up brighter.

  Ever since Raim left the Base, he had to mingle with people when he needed to feed, to skim their positive emotions. Dee’s sexual energy would last him much longer, allowing him to stay away from the crowds for a while.

  He would most certainly enjoy every delicious moment spent with her.

  “Have you ever been to Italy?” he asked.

  “Yes, to Venice. Three years ago, with my hus—” She winced, cutting herself short.

  Raim’s own memories of that city weren’t very pleasant. He recalled the months he spent there, back in the fifteenth century, recovering from the fall in the Alps and from being mauled by wolves. He caught himself lifting his hand to his neck. The scars had long healed on his body. The ones on his soul were a different story.

  “Well.” Raim cleared his throat. “Sirena Scalo is on the opposite side of the Italian Peninsula, west not east. I had the old abandoned monastery building fully restored. I believe you will like it.”

  He made a mental note to call the housekeeper from the plane. Dee would need dinner.

  “My flight back to Seattle is tomorrow night,” she said.

  “The travel-time to my island is less than two hours one way,” he assured her. “There is plenty of time before your departure tomorrow.”

  The flight attendant invited them to board the jet, beaming a smile at them.

  “From Zurich to an island in Italy and back again, all in one night?” Dee mumbled, her head down, but he was relieved to see the doubt in her start to evaporate as her interest grew. “That would be quite an adventure.”