The Forgotten (Demons Book 2)

by Marina Simcoe

  I had many reasons to be wary of the demons, too. However, it wasn’t Incubi as a whole I was concerned about. All I wanted was to know more about them to better understand just one Incubus, whom I couldn’t stop thinking about, and who now haunted my dreams.

  “A relationship with him would be toxic, Kitty,” Delilah stated grimly.

  “I’m not talking about having any kind of a relationship here. I just want to know exactly what Incubi can do. Can they really invade people’s dreams?”

  “Yes. They can manipulate human dreams. The goal is to turn you on and feed off your sexual energy while you’re asleep. However, they need to be physically near the sleeping person to feed. I can guarantee you that Ivarr is not in Seattle, in which case, it makes no sense for him to visit you in your sleep. If he can’t feed, why would he bother?”

  Because he misses me.

  Because he wants me in other ways than just feeding.

  Because he chose me.

  Because if the dream was not just a product of my imagination then he really said everything I heard him say in it.

  My heart sped up and my stomach fluttered with nerves. What if Ivarr really cared more about me than my mind allowed me to hope. What we had was supposed to be a one-time experience. However, it had been proving significantly more for me already.

  What if it meant more for him, too?

  “Kitty.” Delilah’s voice rang with a soothing note. “I believe you had a dream about him. Your mind must be still processing everything that has happened, and it would be perfectly normal to dream about him. You’ve been doing a great job adjusting back to your life. And with enough time the dreams will stop, too.

  I realized with a hefty share of panic that I didn’t want them to stop. The dreams were all I had left of him.

  Delilah went on, “I would never encourage anyone, especially someone who like you has just escaped their captivity, to enter into a relationship with one of them.”

  “He wasn’t part of it . . .”

  “What would his motivations be to pursue you in any way? Feeding off you. Using you as a ticket to the ultimate forgiveness.”

  “You said there is a successful human-demon relationship out there now . . .” I wasn’t sure why I held on to this piece of information I’d received from Delilah and why I mentioned it now. Could there be any hope for me to even consider a relationship with Ivarr?

  “I said there was a confirmed case of pregnancy. I haven’t met the woman to speak to her wellbeing or accurately assess how successful their relationship is.”

  “Wouldn’t The Priory know—”

  A heavy sigh on the other end of the line stopped me from finishing the sentence.

  “Kitty. You need to focus on your own wellbeing and recovery. You got a second chance at life. So much is ahead of you. I can tell you from my professional experience that finding a suitable life partner is not always easy.

  “My own personal belief has been that it’s best to be with someone close to you in aspirations, convictions, and principles. What can you possibly have in common with a hundreds-year-old demon? I’m afraid you’re setting yourself up for heartbreak by nursing hope.”

  “I’m not nursing anything . . .”

  Obviously, there was no point discussing this with Delilah. Especially, since I hadn’t even made it clear to myself what it was that I hoped for now.

  “Good,” Delilah conceded, effectively closing the discussion. “Are you happy with Doctor Yung?”

  “Yes.”

  During the past session we had talked about my guilt over enjoying the things done to me by Incubi.

  Interestingly enough, any animosity I had was directed towards the ones I held responsible for my kidnapping and incarceration—the Council and even The Priory. I did not feel much resentment towards the individual demons.

  I hardly held anything against Garrett or whoever was there before him who had the role of my Handler, as I sensed they were mostly mindless executioners of someone else’s will.

  Neither, did I blame Ivarr for the crimes of his kind.

  This seemed to be one big difference between Delilah and I—whereas I saw the demons as individuals, she judged them en mass.

  Chapter 33

  FOR THE DAYS THAT FOLLOWED, I did all I could to avoid calling his name before falling asleep. I needed some time to sort through everything I’d learned as well as my own feelings and hopes.

  If what Ivarr said in my dreams was true—if he truly cared about me—was there a real chance for us to be together?

  I didn’t care that much about The Priory’s or the Council’s opinion on this, not even about the fact that Ivarr and I were thousands of miles apart, with no easy way to meet again, since there was obviously not much hope of Delilah’s assistance. As long as both of us wanted it to happen, I was confident we’d find a way.

  Nothing had changed, though, from the time we parted. My feelings for him might have grown, but our situation remained the same.

  He was an immortal demon. What was the best either of us could hope for? We might have a few happy years—maybe even decades—together, just like what he had with Margreta. Ultimately, however, we’d need to part. There’d never be growing old together for us.

  More importantly, I’d kept a very essential part about myself a secret from Ivarr. If demons really got a chance for forgiveness and salvation by finding the right woman and becoming a father, I could never give him that.

  If the forgiveness was what he was ultimately after, wouldn’t it be extremely selfish on my part to hope for any kind of a future with Ivarr at all?

  ONE FRIDAY EVENING, Pam, my best friend at work, dragged me out for drinks. It was December already, just days before Christmas. Streets were lit bright with festive lights. The small bar across the road from our office building was packed with people, buzzing with merry mood.

  This time of year had always been bitter sweet for me. I’d celebrated by accepting every invitation to dinner that came my way, avoiding going home to my empty apartment as much as I could.

  This year, it was somehow especially hard to get into the holiday spirit. The feeling of loneliness cut through me more painful than ever.

  “What happened to you is insane, Kitty. Absolutely crazy,” Pam started, sliding a glass of red wine my way along the table. “But I wonder if that’s really what’s dragging you down.”

  “Nothing is dragging me down, Pam.” I took a huge swig from the glass, thinking that at this rate I might as well get the whole bottle.

  “It’s still about this guy, isn’t it?”

  An arrow of surprise shot through me. What did Pam know about him?

  “Ever since he broke up with you, you’ve not been yourself.”

  Finally, I realized she was talking about Derek.

  “Oh God, Pam,” I exhaled. “I really don’t care about him. Not in that way, I mean. We’re just friends now.”

  “Honestly, I don’t understand how people can remain friends after what he did. Kitty, remember, I was there picking up the pieces the day after he left you. You were a mess.”

  “Derek and I are fine now. We talked—”

  “Yeah? And what did he say?”

  “It’s not that. It’s about how I feel over our past relationship, our breakup, and myself. Derek and I were never meant to be. We may be good friends, but we suck as a couple. I’m absolutely fine with it.” I took another sip of my wine and leaned back in my seat. “You should be, too.”

  “Oh, I am glad he is out of the picture now. I’m not even voting for him whenever he runs for public office.”

  “That’s your political right to choose whom to vote for.” I shook my head, smiling.

  “But there is still something off with you.” She narrowed her eyes at me.

  “I’m fine. I’m doing great at work.”

  “Way too great,” she muttered, swirling the wine in her glass. “All those long hours you put in.”

  “I’m in accou
nting. Everyone works long hours at month end.”

  “With you, it’s all month long, it seems. Whenever I come in, you’re already there. And when I leave, you’re still up to your ears in work. Do you even go home to sleep or do you just pass out at your desk?”

  “Of course I go home.”

  I had wondered if it would make it harder for Ivarr to find me in my dreams, if I slept somewhere other than home.

  “What I’m saying, Kitty, is that life is all about balance. And yours doesn’t seem to have any.”

  It wasn’t just my life. Everything—my mind, my feelings, my emotions—were severely out of balance.

  “Oh, Kitty.” Pam leaned across the table and covered my hand with hers. “We need to do something fun. Do you want to go out dancing tonight? I know you don’t like the club scene that much and dancing is not your thing,” she added quickly before I managed to reply. “But you don’t even have to dance. We’ll take it easy—have some drinks, mingle with people a little. You know. Have some fun.”

  “Um . . . I’m—”

  “Or we could go out of town.” Pam wouldn’t give up. “You, me and Coco. Remember that time we went to Vegas to see that hot magician perform, and you were too much of a prude to even—” She stopped herself, her expression lit up with an idea I was afraid I might find terrifying. “Oh. My. God.” Pam said slowly, reaching for her cellphone. “Did you get Mindy’s email?”

  “Who?”

  “Mindy, one of Coco’s friends from high school?”

  “No. I didn’t get any emails from her. And I’m pretty sure she doesn’t know me because I don’t think I know her.”

  “It doesn’t matter.” Pam waved me off. “They’re going to Vegas. Like two weeks from now, after the holidays. We should go. I’ve already said no, because, really, I don’t like Mindy very much. The feeling is mutual, too. But I’ll go if you go.”

  “I didn’t get invited, remember?” Surprisingly, however, the idea of a trip didn’t seem too bad. Deep inside, I longed for some carefree fun with my friends. Despite what Pam said, I wanted to dance again.

  “Pfft! Just say the word if you want to come. I’ll call Coco, and she’ll make it happen.” Pam grabbed her phone, punching energetically at the screen. “Oh, my God!” She bounced in her seat. Her auburn hair, cut in a stylish bob, swung around her face. “Can you believe it, we’re going to see this.”

  She shoved the phone in my face, and I had to lean all the way back for my eyes to focus on the picture she wanted me to see.

  A row of topless men, backlit by brilliant stage lights that left their faces in the shadows, lined the dark stage. Multicoloured lights glistened off their massive shoulders, well-defined abs, and thick biceps. Their muscled arms crossed in front of their wide chests.

  Demon Army was written in glowing blood-red letters across the picture.

  “These guys are great! It’s a new show. And it’s getting rave reviews. Apparently, it’s sold out for months in advance now, but Mindy’s boyfriend scored some tickets through someone he knows . . .” Pam started frantically typing on the phone. “I’ll just have to let Coco know ASAP that we’re coming, to hold the tickets for us.”

  “Can I see the picture again, please,” I asked quietly.

  “You like it, huh?” Pam gave me a knowing smile. “I knew you would. How can anyone not like this?” She gave me the phone again. “They’re dancers, not strippers—this is as much skin as you’re going to see at the show—which is a shame if you ask me. Still, no one seems to complain. Apparently, they are amazing. Super talented. Their show has this fantasy, supernatural, paranormal theme. See?” She leaned across the table, hovering over the phone in my hand, and scrolled to more pictures.

  Artful shots of perfectly built men in dramatic poses against stunning backgrounds.

  Some wore fantasy armor, wielding swords and holding shields, their faces obscured by ornate golden helmets.

  Some of them were draped in long fur capes or black cloaks.

  And others wore long coats, akin to vampires, princes of darkness or . . . demons.

  “They are so freaking perfect—they don’t even seem real,” Pam gushed.

  “They don’t,” I agreed, my gaze going to the one thing that was common in all the pictures—leather gloves worn by every single man on stage. Dark grey, they looked just like the ones worn at the Incubi Base.

  “Here you go, Pam.” I gave her the phone back, hating to see my hand shake.

  “Holy cow, Kitty,” she gasped, ducking to search my face. “Are you okay? You’re white as a sheet. She grabbed both of my hands in hers. “I swear I really hate that ex of yours. Whatever did he do to you that you can’t even see good-looking topless guys now without nearly passing out?”

  Chapter 34

  I GOT OFF THE BUS TWO stops before my place. The air inside suffocated me, and I needed to walk as fast as my legs would carry me in a futile attempt to outrun the thoughts rushing through my brain.

  Demon Army.

  The gloves.

  ‘They are so freaking perfect . . .’

  What were the chances of them actually being demons? The gloomy memory of my basement cell came to mind, bringing the air of cold and despair. Could my captors end up doing something as harmless and peaceful as . . . dancing? Why would they?

  All of it must be just some odd coincidence.

  The group’s name alone was not indisputable proof. Anyone could have come up with the idea of having a paranormal themed male dance show.

  And the fact that they wore gloves . . . Well, it was a cool look.

  Everything about the dancers in the pictures was cool. Amazing. Perfect. Too perfect. And every demon I ever met wore gloves.

  Except for Raim. He didn’t.

  Would the Grand Master even allow something like that? Dancing on the stage in the centre of hundreds of female fans, I imagined, would be breaking a whole bunch of his precious rules.

  On the other hand, Delilah had mentioned that all Incubi were going to feed off willing sources only. With all kidnapped victims now released, I imagined, it wouldn’t be easy for the Council to find women willing to be hauled up on the cross to feed the demons nightly.

  The energy coming from spectators of the show might not be the orgasmic emotions my captors had elicited in me to feed the Council, but it should still be strong and positive—nourishing enough for the demons to stay awake and function.

  If so, could Ivarr be in the show?

  Oh, I had no doubt he could dance well enough to amaze any audience. I’d had the chance to find this out for myself.

  Racing along the sidewalk, my arms wrapped tight around me from the cold winter air, I swayed on my feet, remembering that night again and nearly tripped over my heels on the pavement.

  The last time he appeared in my dream, he was dressed like the faceless men on the promo pictures—wearing nothing but dark pants and gloves. I couldn’t be certain, but I believed the shadows of hunger on his face had eased, as well.

  Delilah said he agreed to follow the rules when feeding now. He must have been offered an acceptable way to stay awake this time, and he conceded.

  If he was awake, why wouldn’t he come to see me in person?

  Would he want to be with me?

  He’d had a relationship with a woman before. That was a starting point, I supposed. But if he really had any feelings for me, would they change once he found out that he could never have children with me?

  Would he take a few decades out of his quest for forgiveness to be with me? Would I want him to be my life partner, knowing that I’d be the only one aging?

  I tried to imagine what it would be like to spend the rest of my life with a sex demon, and I couldn’t. Honestly, it proved impossible for me to envision even a week of a regular domestic life with someone like Ivarr. But I realized I wanted to find out what it would be like to have him in my life.

  By the time I reached my building, there seemed to be only one way
to get any answers for all these questions—Ivarr and I needed to have a real conversation.

  It seemed to me, the only way ‘to find my balance’ was to lay everything in the open with him. Then, we either find a way to be together for as long as my limited lifespan would allow us, or part for good.

  NO LONGER COUNTING on Delilah to get information for me, I had to turn to Ivarr himself for his whereabouts.

  That night, I went to bed with the firm intention of summoning my demon.

  ‘You need to ask me questions,’ he’d told me.

  The trouble was that in my dream no problems existed. I remembered feeling joyful, excited to be with him. I questioned absolutely nothing and loved every moment near him—until I woke up and he was no longer there.

  Uncertain if it was even possible to keep a grip on reality while I slept, I went to bed determined to try.

  Summoning Ivarr was easy.

  Keeping thoughts and memories of him out of my head was more difficult than allowing them in. They flooded all my senses as soon as I stopped holding them back.

  The straining to remember to ask him questions brought with it tension and anxiety. Still the excitement of seeing him again made me fall asleep with a smile on my lips.

  I FLOATED IN A POOL of warm water. The gentle stream carried me along without any effort on my part to stay afloat. White, fluffy clouds passed in the sky above me. I splashed my hands in the water, squinting from the droplets hitting my face.

  I must be on vacation.

  But why was I alone? Wasn’t someone else supposed to be here with me right now? Someone I couldn’t wait to see.

  “Ivarr,” I called up to the sky.

  “I’m here,” came immediately after, just like it always did whenever I wanted him.

  His familiar arms found me in the water, and he pressed me to his chest. I slid my hand behind his neck right away. “I need you.”

  “I know.” He kissed my temple.

  His simple caress ignited sparks of desire, and I melted into him, finding his mouth with mine.