The Forgotten (Demons Book 2)

by Marina Simcoe

  “Where are we going?” I finally decided to ask.

  “You got an invitation to one of the dressing rooms.” He stopped in front of a plain white door and knocked briefly before opening it wide for me. “Here you go.” He gestured for me to enter, staying in the hallway himself.

  Carefully, I took a step in, and he closed the door behind me without saying another word.

  The room appeared empty—white, with a rolling clothing rack against one wall. A large mirror, framed with lights, and a long countertop under it made it look exactly what I imagined a Vegas dressing room would be. Except that the counter was completely bare of any makeup boxes, wigs or fake eyelashes. No feather boas hang from the backs of the four chairs neatly pushed under the counter, either.

  The faint sound of running water directed my attention to a door across from the mirror. The door opened, and Ivarr came in wiping his face and neck with a towel. He must have splashed some water on his bare torso, too, as the droplets of it glistened on his shoulders with a few running down his chest.

  I swallowed hard, torn by so many emotions at the sight of him. Then the fierce desire to simply hold him in my arms pierced my heart, overpowering all the others.

  “There you are,” he exhaled gruffly, tossing the towel to the counter across the room and closing the distance between us in a few long strides.

  The sheer force of his advancement made me step back, my shoulder blades flush to the door behind me.

  His hands above my head, he leaned over me, surrounding me once again.

  “Night after night I lay in my bed, waiting for you to summon me. Now, I can hardly believe that you are really here. In the flesh.” He lowered his head, brushing his cheek against my hair, breathing me in. “You found me, my queen.”

  He slid his hands down and lifted me into his arms.

  “Ivarr . . .” I whimpered and instantly wrapped my arms and legs around him, wishing I never had to let go. “What are you doing to me?”

  “I’m taking you,” he growled low, kissing the side of my face, my neck, my shoulder. “Right here, right now.”

  “No control . . .” I moaned, tilting my head to give him a better access to my neck and feeling my own control quickly evaporate under his kisses. He was here, and nothing else mattered.

  “None,” he agreed, his voice raspy and thick. “With you, I have none at all.”

  Sliding the zipper of my dress open, he tugged the fabric down to expose my breast then took the nipple between his lips, rolling it with his tongue.

  A hot wave of need for him that I’d held in check until now finally burst through my defences, rolling over me in a powerful swell. I rocked against him and buried my fingers in his hair, relishing his touch.

  Ivarr . . .

  Hooking his thumbs in the thin elastic of my underwear, he yanked it down. I shook them off then and reached for the buckles of his massive fur-trimmed belt.

  He helped me click the belt open, and it fell to the floor with a loud thud. I went immediately for the zipper of his pants.

  My fingers trembled, as heat of arousal raged through me. I desperately wanted him closer to me, inside me, sooner, as if I still had to prove to myself that it was real.

  His hands under my bare ass, he shifted me up and pressed my back to the door then gently cupped my breast, plucking my nipple with his fingers and increasing the electrifying heat spreading between my legs.

  “I want you inside me, Ivarr,” I whispered in his ear and wiggled my hips impatiently, rubbing myself against him, hot and slick.

  Inside. As close as I could have him, without the haziness of a dream or hundreds of miles separating us.

  “Give me a second, darling.” He nuzzled my hair, letting go off my breast, and lowered his hand between us. “I don’t want to hurt you, sweetheart.” I felt his fingers part my folds and rocked my hips against his touch, seeking relief for the achy pressure between my legs.

  “Soon,” he gritted through his teeth, his jaw tensed with restraint as he forced himself to hold back while circling my opening, stretching me for him. “Soon, my sweet.”

  I curled my fingers into the silk of his hair at the back of his head, and buried my face in his neck, riding the waves of intense pleasure from his skillful touch.

  More of him. I needed all of him at the moment, wishing I could feel him with all my senses at once. Parting my lips, I nibbled on his skin and gathered whatever droplets of water were still left on his shoulder with my tongue. I savored the faint salty spice of his taste along with the warm sensation of his skin under my palms and his scent in my nostrils, taking him in.

  “I can’t get enough of you,” I breathed out. The pure joy of being here with him rippled through me. This was so much better than any dream could ever be.

  “Katherine.” He shifted me in his arms and took my mouth in a scorching kiss, then rocked his hips into me, finally sliding inside me. Inch by delightful inch.

  I flexed my legs around him, desperate to hold on as he moved deliciously slowly at first. The sweet pressure between my thighs built up with every thrust of his body into mine.

  He steadily increased his pace until he finally was driving into me with abandon, fast and hard.

  I dug my fingers into the hard muscles of his shoulders, as a powerful swell of pleasure rolled through me, with the explosion of an orgasm. The heady force of it blinded me for a moment. Ivarr’s low growl filtered through the thick cloud of bliss floating in my brain, as he pumped his release into me. A series of amazing ripples rushed me with every frantic spasm of his hips against mine.

  My arms and legs locked around him in a death grip, I held on to him as our bodies rode the aftershock of our climax.

  He leaned his forehead to mine.

  “You are my breath of fresh air, my queen.” The fire in his eyes cast a red glow on the tanned skin of his cheekbones. “Without you, every day is a struggle, like trying to breathe under water.”

  I cupped his face tenderly. My heart still raced against his chest and my legs felt as if filled with warm honey, but I willed my thoughts to get organized.

  “We . . .” I said softly. “Can we talk?”

  That was what we should have started with—a talk. I came here to have a conversation and ended up having frantic sex against the door before we managed to barely say a word to each other.

  At the very least, I should let go of him now, yet my arms and legs refused to obey, wrapped around him as if fused together.

  “Anything you want.” He kissed my temple, gliding his hands all over my body in a caressing dance again—along my sides, up my arms to my throat, from my knee up to my hip . . .

  A sudden loud knock on the door made me jump in his arms, and he cradled me to his chest before stepping away from the door.

  “Ivarr?” someone called.

  “Later,” he bit out, but zipped up my dress and straightened my skirt.

  “Now.” The voice behind the door was not loud, but firm and commanding.

  “Who is it?” I whispered.

  “Grand Master.” Ivarr frowned.

  I immediately leaped off him, picked up my panties from the floor, and put them on quickly. I had no desire to see Raim whatsoever. However, if I had to face him, it was best to be fully clothed.

  “Everyone is in the party room.” The voice behind the door held a definite authority but lacked the steely note of arrogance I remembered in Raim’s.

  Besides, Ivarr’s frown appeared to be one of mild annoyance. Not the expression I would expect him to have when facing the demon, who ordered his bones broken.

  Unhurriedly, Ivarr zipped up his pants and picked up the belt off the floor then opened the door.

  The man who entered the room was undoubtedly an Incubus, but it wasn’t Raim.

  His skin tone was deeper than Ivarr’s tan, a rich shade of brown. Tall and handsome, he wore his dark mahogany hair tied back. Instead of white silk that Raim seemed to prefer, the newcomer’s strong,
solid frame was draped in a worn grey robe that had seen better times, possibly a century or so ago.

  He didn’t seem to be overly surprised to see me.

  “Are you Ivarr’s Mistress?” He tilted his head, an inquisitive glint in his eyes the colour of dark whiskey.

  His attention on me, the demon reached back and produced a pair of grey leather gloves from the rope tied around his waist.

  “She is,” Ivarr replied for me, his voice gruff but not hostile. He put his arm around my shoulders and pressed me to his side. “Katherine, this is Andras, our new Grand Master.”

  “What happened to Raim?” I’d only just met Andras, but I definitely liked him more than the previous Grand Master. The glimmer of warmth in his eyes on me was vastly different from Raim’s icy glare.

  “Nice to meet you.” With a courteous bow of his head, Andras offered me his gloved hand, and I shook it. “Raim renounced his position and left the Council.”

  “Just like that?” I furrowed my brow in disbelief. As little as I knew Raim, he gave the impression that he was rather fond of his position and the power it provided. As far as Raim could be fond of anything, of course. “When?”

  “Last week,” Ivarr replied.

  I turned to him.

  “He left the Council voluntarily? Why? Where did he go?”

  Ivarr moved his gaze from my face to Andras’s, as if deferring my questions to him.

  “Ivarr told me you ran away from the Council?” Andras asked me, effectively putting an end to any further discussion about Raim.

  Even though I didn’t believe Raim had a solid reason to wish me harm, a feeling of unease rose inside me at the idea of him roaming the world freely.

  “She didn’t run from the base, she was abducted, I told you,” Ivarr responded for me again, bringing me back from my worries about Raim.

  “I’d like to hear the story from you, Katherine,” Andras retorted coolly, without taking his attention from me.

  “Now? I thought you ordered me to the party room.” Ivarr leveled a heavy glare on Andras.

  The Grand Master’s gaze flickered his way. He exhaled in visible displeasure but conceded.

  “I can wait. Would you join us for the after party, Katherine?”

  “I . . .” I hesitated. “I probably should be going soon.” I felt Ivarr’s arm tighten around me. “I was just hoping to talk to Ivarr before I went.”

  “You’re not leaving.” Ivarr turned to face me, both hands on my shoulders. His features hardened as he searched my face.

  I closed my eyes to hide from the intensity in his.

  “Well, maybe you could spare a few minutes?” Andras insisted politely. “Just long enough to meet everyone? Ever since Ivarr told us about you last week, we have all been waiting anxiously to meet you.”

  “Is that why you’ve been lurking at my door?” Ivarr muttered under his breath.

  “You knew I was coming?” I asked Andras incredulously.

  “No. That was indeed a lucky coincidence. For the past few days, we’ve been researching ways to get in touch with you, without jeopardizing the fragile new status quo we have achieved with humans recently.” He narrowed his eyes at Ivarr. “I’m afraid I had to uphold the threat of Inferno that Raim placed on Ivarr to prevent him from rushing to search for you, potentially derailing our progress.”

  “Raim threatened to send you to Inferno if you came to see me?”

  “For a hundred years.” He nodded. “To make sure you’d be dead by the time I was released.”

  That was how they’d forced the rebel in him to obey, using me as the bargaining chip.

  “That is low, even for him.” I turned to Andras again. “Why would Raim want to keep us apart, though? And why exactly would you, the new Grand Master, try to get in touch with me? Just to make it clear here, I’m not going back to the basement.” Deep inside, I didn’t believe that was the purpose of Andras being here but added the last sentence just in case.

  “Of course not, Katherine. We are trying to move away from all that, as you can see.” He gestured at Ivarr’s stage costume—the armlets and the belt in his hand. “We’re searching for harmless ways to obtain our nourishment.”

  “Why did it take you this long?” The question came out rather gruffly. Personally, I had survived my incarceration, and I’d been working successfully on putting any lingering aftereffects of it behind me. But I never forgot about the many women who weren’t as lucky.

  Andras’s chest rose with a sigh, a gloomy expression settled over his face.

  “There are many reasons why that order of things prevailed for this long. Some of them seem to be tied with Raim, but the connections are still unclear. I will gladly explain what we have discovered so far if you care to stay in the city a little longer to have this conversation.” He tilted his head, giving me a chance to reply, but I remained quiet, unable to give him any promises at the moment.

  Ivarr had stepped aside to pick up a white t-shirt draped over the clothing rack. Tossing the t-shirt over his shoulder, he walked back to us, unbuckling the wide armlets from around his biceps.

  “You can’t leave, Katherine. And if you do, I’ll go with you. Whatever it is that causes that dark twister of worries churning inside you . . .” He circled his finger in the air, illustrating the way my emotions apparently moved within me, “is not going to stop me. We’ll work it out,” he promised, reaching for me.

  Ignoring Andras, Ivarr drew me in for a kiss. I leaned into him, really wishing to believe that everything could be worked out somehow.

  “Well?” Andras waited patiently until the end of our kiss before clearing his throat. “The party then. Shall we?” He opened the door and ushered us out even as Ivarr was still pulling his t-shirt over his head. “My wife is eager to meet you.”

  “Your wife?” I stared at Andras, flabbergasted, certain that I must have heard him wrong.

  He just smiled and proceeded down the corridor, leading the way.

  Chapter 37

  THE AFTER PARTY WAS held in a large conference room in the hotel connected to the venue. I’d never been to a party after a show. Some of them might be loud and vibrant, I imagined. However, the atmosphere in the room where Andras took us was far from it.

  With the dimmed lights, the candles on the several round tables supplied a warm glow to the space. Several couches and armchairs were casually arranged into sitting areas. And soft music played in the background.

  A few dozen men, some of them I recognized from the show, sat on the couches and around the tables. I noted with curiosity a handful of women among them. A few hors d'oeuvre and dessert platters stood on the tables along with sparkling water and bottles of wine. Some men held a glass in their hands. However, the women were the only ones who nibbled on food.

  A man rose from the couch and headed our way as soon as we entered. I recognized him as the performer who took Pam to the stage. He still had his long, black coat on, but he had put a black t-shirt underneath it now.

  “Zander.” He stretched his hand my way as soon as he approached us.

  Ivarr’s grip on my hand tightened and he stepped forward, shielding me with his shoulder from the demon in front of us.

  With a quick glance at the offered hand to make sure his gloves were on, I snuck my arm around Ivarr to accept Zander’s handshake.

  “Kitty. Nice to meet you,” I said, since Ivarr remained silent, with only a glare for a greeting.

  As courteous as other men seemed to be to me, the Incubi didn’t appear to have good manners with each other.

  “Will your friend be joining us, too?” Zander bent forward in a bow, lifting my hand to his lips for a kiss.

  “No.” Quicker than lightning, Ivarr covered my hand with his, way before Zander’s lips had a chance to touch my skin.

  “My apologies if I offended you, Kitty,” Zander addressed me, without sparing a glance for Ivarr. “I was simply being polite—I can see you’ve been claimed.” He straightened, letti
ng go of my hand. “My only intention was to enquire about your friend.”

  “Pam? She won’t be coming tonight.”

  “That’s a shame,” Zander said softly.

  His expression of crushed disappointment prompted me to ask, “Did you hope to see her again?”

  “No. I had no hope until I saw you. Perhaps . . .” His eyes of dark agate met mine. “Perhaps, you could pass a message to her from me? If you deem it appropriate, of course.”

  I found the formal way he expressed himself rather endearing. It gave him, and our whole conversation, a slightly old-fashioned air, making me fight the urge to dip into a curtsy or do something equally archaic.

  “If you share your intentions in regard to Pam,” I started cautiously, “I would definitely consider passing your message.”

  His gaze slid off my face for a moment, as he seemed to focus intently.

  “I may not be able to fully explain it. But I sensed some longing in her, beyond the usual . . . um, arousal in reaction to my kisses. I found the taste of it extremely intriguing. Alluring.” His dark eyes flashed in the candlelight of the room when he returned his gaze to mine and added in a low voice, “I want more.”

  The blatant directness of his request blew away any sense of politeness, baring his intense hunger for my friend—the poor unsuspecting Pam.

  Should I subject her to the temptation and hidden danger of the world of demons by connecting her with Zander? Did I have the right to stand in their way by refusing to do it?

  After all, the same hungry expression in Ivarr’s gaze directed at me didn’t scare but excited me. What if there was a future for Zander and Pam?

  “I’ll think about it,” I promised the dark-eyed demon, who stared at me expectantly. At my words, he exhaled with a visible relief.

  “Thank you.” He bowed his head. “Pam,” he said slowly, as if savoring the name on his tongue, and glanced my way before departing. “Is it short for Pamela?”

  I nodded.

  “Beautiful,” he murmured, going back to his seat.