“Oh for Christ’s sake, speak demon. Just don’t bug me.”
“These accommodations are shameful.”
She blanched but looked around the dreary room. “What?”
“You should live in a mansion, be draped in silken sheets.”
She shrugged, but he didn’t miss the slight blush staining her creamy-colored cheeks. “It has everything I need. Once I’m certified, I’ll be able to upgrade.”
Seeing an opportunity to drop more hints, he took it. “Do all the trainees live like,” he motioned around the room, “this?”
“I guess. I’ve only been inside D Unit’s apartments.”
“And where are the other units? I didn’t see them while jogging.”
“I don’t know.” A line creased her forehead. “Who asked for your opinion of my place anyway?”
“I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, Delia. I simply find it reprehensible that you’re not even afforded a proper bed.”
“You didn’t—just shut up. I’m going to shower.”
“Would you like company?”
“Not yours.” With that she opened the only other door in the tiny space and slammed it behind her.
He considered projecting images of what he’d do to her body if she’d allowed him to join her but ultimately decided to keep his earlier word to her. He needed to gain her trust if he was to get them both out of there alive.
❄ ❄ ❄
“What’re you doing?” Cordelia asked. Relaxation from the extra-long shower disappeared as she caught him snooping through her things.
He closed the small refrigerator’s door and grimaced. “I thought to make us lunch, but there’s nothing suitable here for a meal.”
“I’m due for a trip to the commissary.” After wrapping her wet hair into a messy bun, she grabbed her commissary card and waved for him to follow. They made the trek in silence, but her skin tingled as it always did when he was near.
Upon entering the small building, she handed her card to the guard and jabbed her thumb over her shoulder at the demon. “I have an extra body to feed. Bix didn’t give me a card for him. Can I double up on rations?”
The guard shook his head, turned and opened the walk-in refrigerator behind him. He returned less than a minute later with two bags—on large, one small. He set the large bag on the counter in front of Cordelia. As he set the small one in front of the demon he said, “Prisoner ration,” and handed her card back to her. The guy never was one for conversation, but today he was even more standoffish than usual. Must be because of Argoth’s presence and she couldn’t really blame him.
Once back to her apartment, the demon watched her put away her rations. Two potatoes, a carton of eggs, two small bags of minute rice, four apples, a loaf of bread, a bag of oatmeal, two cans of peas and three cans of tuna fish.
When she finished and caught his gaze, he frowned. “That’s all you get? I’m amazed you’re not emaciated.”
She shrugged. “It’s enough for me. So what’s in your bag?”
He pulled out a container of Prolemein. It was the high-protein gruel they fed the prisoners and, oddly, the kids in the orphanage. Looked like snot and didn’t taste any better.
“Ew. Sucks to be you.”
He set the container on the counter, looking grim. “Indeed. What do you plan to make with your mishmash of items?”
“I guess I’ll eat an egg and a piece of bread.”
His eyes widened to saucer-size. “Are you serious?” When she just glared at him, he continued. “Do you have oil? Sugar? Any spices at all?”
Annoyed but curious as to where he was going with his questions, she pulled open the small cabinet that served as her pantry. Occasionally, a few spices and condiments were available in the commissary and even though she didn’t know how to use most of them, she always grabbed what she could. When she moved to a place of her choosing, she hoped to learn a little something about cooking.
He stepped closer to inspect the items and pulled out cinnamon, salt, rice and a can of tuna fish. “Where are your pots and pans?”
“What are you doing? I don’t have enough food to share.”
“I’m not trying to steal your food, Delia. I’d like to make you something tastier than an egg and a piece of bread. Although, with these limited ingredients…” he sighed. “One day, you’ll accompany me to my home and I’ll serve you a feast you could never imagine.”
She snorted. “Yeah, that’s gonna happen. Buttering me up isn’t going to work. I don’t know what you hope to gain. I don’t have the power to release you. I’m not going to have sex with you and strengthen you. So, really, what’s in it for you, demon?”
His lips pursed at her calling him demon, but then his charming—wait no—his annoying, cocky smile returned. “If it’s the only way I can give you pleasure, I’ll take it. Now, let me cook for you.”
She threw up her hands and took a seat a couple feet away. “Fine. You might as well be useful.”
She tried to keep a bored expression on her face, but she was intrigued. Watching him work, stirring, seasoning, did not turn her on. No, she was simply curious. Once the rice was cooked, he added a can of tuna fish to it, then half a can of peas.
Grabbing one of her only two plates from the sink, he rinsed it and filled it with the concoction he’d made and set it beside the stove. It smelled better than anything she’d ever eaten and her mouth watered. When she reached for it, he said, “Give it a minute to cool and then dig in.”
Assuming he’d make himself a bowl of Prolemein next, she was surprised when he gathered more ingredients. One egg, one slice of bread and an apple. As if sensing her confusion, he said, “I’m making your dessert now.”
She watched with fascination as he whipped the egg with a fork, then soaked the bread in the egg mixture while he cut up a small slice of the apple.
When he caught her staring and winked at her, she had to will her cheeks to not flush. “It shouldn’t burn your tongue now, eat before it gets cold,” he said before returning to his mission.
Pulling the plate to her, she took a bite, a moan escaping her. Of course, he didn’t miss it, a smug grin lifting his lips, but he didn’t say a word. By the time she’d scarfed down half the plate of food, he finished dessert and plated it. It looked and smelled delicious, the cinnamon aroma permeating the air making her kitchen smell better than it ever had. He stood with his arms crossed over his chest just watching her. Little sparks of heat fluttered in her stomach.
“Um, are you going to eat or stare at me?” she asked, his gaze unnerving her.
“Watching you enjoy food I cooked for you fills my appetite more than that,” he jerked his chin at the box of gruel, “ever would.”
A small, unwanted pang of guilt struck her. She sat there devouring, what to her was, the best meal of her life and he was going hungry. She shouldn’t care. He was a demon, but he was being so damn nice. Surely it was only a ploy to soften her, to catch her off guard, but something inside her insisted she share. Besides, he’d plated more food than she was used to eating and she couldn’t wait to try the cinnamon-thing he’d made.
Pushing the tuna-rice dish toward him, she said, “Finish that.” His eyebrows rose high. When a pleased, appreciative look crossed his face, she averted her gaze and grabbed the dessert. “What is this?” she asked.
“French toast with cinnamon apples on top. It’d be much better with syrup.”
When she bit into it, flavor exploded in her mouth, making her forget who and what her company was. “Oh my god,” she beamed at him, “this is fantastic.” She’d never eaten syrup, but surely nothing could taste better than this. “How do you know how to make this stuff?”
After swallowing a forkful of food, he said, “I’ve been around. I know a thing or two. Did your parents not cook for you?”
“No.” She savored another bite of deliciousness before continuing. “I grew up in the orphanage. We mostly ate Prolemein and oatmeal, sometimes fruit.�
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“Were there many other children in the orphanage?”
“About thirty. Most of them are here in D Unit too.”
“Interesting. Has anyone from your orphanage been certified?”
“Sure. Lots of them.”
Once he’d taken the last bite of food, he rinsed the plate and fork and set it on the counter to dry. “Have you seen them since they’ve been certified?”
Come to think of it, no she’d never seen any of them again. “Why would they come back here after making hunter status?”
“I don’t know. Have you never met a hunter?”
“Well, sure.”
“But not from D Unit.”
“No. So what? What’re you getting at?” She gazed longingly at the last bite of French Toast and wanted so badly to eat it, but ultimately decided to offer it to him. Hopefully, if she did, he’d make it again for dinner. “I meant to save you more, but it was sooo good.” She pushed the plate to him, but he pushed it back.
“Eat it. I’m good. After choking down that disgusting gruel for three months, what you graciously shared with me did the trick.” His eyes darkened, earnest warmth seeming to beam from them. “You’re very kind, Delia.”
A flush spread through her body at his compliment. Not knowing how to respond, she snatched the last bite of deliciousness and chewed slowly.
“As to your question… Do you not find it odd that you see hunters pass through here but none from your unit? None of them had friends here? None stop by to deliver a demon they’ve captured?”
Annoyed by all his questions but happy for a change of subject, she shrugged. “Never really thought about it.”
“Perhaps you should think more. Things are not always as they seem.”
She rolled her eyes. “So cryptic. Look, if you have something to say, just say it.”
“Some things are better absorbed slowly. But let’s speak of other things. You look beautiful.”
She patted the still damp, sloppy bun, smoothing it and tried to ignore the flutter in her stomach. Ignoring him to the best of her ability, she stood to put her dish in the sink. She jumped when he brushed his thumb across her lower lip. “What’re you doing?”
Sticking his thumb between his lips, he sucked it and damn if the images spearing her brain didn’t make her go wet between her legs.
“There was a dusting of cinnamon on your lip.” His tone was innocent but that penetrating, lustful gaze was anything but.
Flashes of him sucking her nipples between those lips lanced her mind. Her nipples tightened uncomfortably in response. His silvery gaze dropped to her chest before slowly meeting her eyes again. His pupils dilated, sexual need radiated from him. Or maybe it was hers. She couldn’t be sure, but there was no denying the tension crackling between them.
The flashes kept coming—Argoth’s hot, wet mouth trailing down her stomach, his strong hand cupping her mound, dipping a finger into her wetness. Her body thrilled at his touch and she wanted more. Needed more.
Her lips parted without her permission. Argoth leaned in slowly, too slowly, before his lips crashed against hers. She pulled him tight to her body, his heat burning her, making her crazy.
More flashes. Her legs spread wide, his head between them. His tongue flicking across her—
“Dammit,” she hissed as she pulled away from him.
He reached for her, but she jerked away. “Come back to me, Delia. Don’t fight it.”
With exhausting, almost painful effort, she pushed the sexual images from her mind. “I did it. I closed you out.”
His brows scrunched together, a lone crease marking his forehead. “Closed me out? I didn’t—”
Her heart still hammered in her chest, her skin still hot and prickly, but she’d done it. She’d blocked his mental sexual assault from her mind. Bix was right to set this up. If she was already gaining ground on the first day, she’d be golden by the end of the week and she’d finally make hunter status.
She couldn’t even be mad at the demon now. If he hadn’t pushed her, she wouldn’t have made the progress. “Save it.” She waved a hand between them. “It’s fine. You pushed, I closed you out. Hopefully, soon you won’t even be able to get in to begin with.”
“I want you to trust me. I said I wouldn’t invade your mind and I didn’t. Either the thoughts were your own or you were reading mine. Thinking of touching you is not something I can control.”
“Nice try, demon. Humans can’t get into other’s minds.”
“Exactly. Delia, please. Think about everything. Don’t you have any clue as to what you are?”
“What I am?” She pressed fingers to her temples. “Don’t even try it. I expect the sexual bullshit from you but…I’m not sure what game you’re about to play, but just don’t.”
Not wanting to stay cooped up in her tiny living space, she demanded he follow at a decent distance as she strolled around the complex for hours. Being outside always gave her a sense of freedom, and she treasured it. They didn’t come across many other trainees, but the ones they did see gave Argoth wide berth.
Thankfully, he didn’t try to pull anything and didn’t bug her much the rest of the day. Even though she knew whatever he’d been hinting at earlier had been bullshit, she couldn’t help but wonder what he meant by what she was. What an odd thing to say—even for a manipulating demon. She also wondered why she never had seen the graduating members of D Unit again. Not a single one. And why was it that only kids from the orphanage were assigned to D Unit?
Growling mentally, she pushed the thoughts away. It wouldn’t do her any good to start questioning things because of seeds a demon planted. To combat her annoyance, she demanded he spar with her. He’d cocked an eyebrow, then complied, but not before taking his shirt off and hanging it on the fence. Jesus. That was a sight she didn’t need to see. His pecs and abs looked as though they’d been sculpted in stone and then they’d stretched perfect, bronze skin over them. Even though she’d had the satisfaction of knocking him to the ground several times, each time she touched his bare skin, she burned for him and had to cut the sparring session short.
After eating more French toast for dinner, she did an hour of yoga. It had been the least relaxing hour of yoga she’d ever experienced. Argoth had sat silently, thankfully, but his lustful gaze never strayed from her. She’d been so keyed up afterward, she’d needed another shower—a very cold one.
“I’m going to sleep,” she said, as she sunk onto her mattress. When he moved toward her as if to join her, she said, “Oh, hell no. Don’t even try it.”
“But where am I to sleep?” He frowned and looked around the room.
Feeling generous, she chucked her only pillow onto the chair, turned her back to him and pulled the sheet over her head.
Chapter Three
“Morning, Cordelia.” Bix only spared Argoth a quick glance. “Good to see you survived your first twenty-four hours. I don’t see any fresh bruises,” he eyed her up and down, “or anything out of place. It give you any problems?”
For some reason, an uncomfortable pang struck deep in her guts when Bix referred to Argoth as an it. Yeah, he was a demon, but it came off just a little too…harsh. She wasn’t sure, she shouldn’t care, she didn’t care dammit. Maybe it was because he actually hadn’t been horrible company yesterday. Sure, he’d annoyed her with his sexual innuendo, but he hadn’t once tried to hurt her. Maybe that was just part of his game though. Lull her into complacency the first couple days and then, wham!
“Majorly annoying.” She shot Argoth the side-eye, but when he only winked at her, she had the strangest urge to giggle and wink back. “No problems though. So, what’s on the agenda today?”
“Today, you’ll be journeying outside the compound.” Her face must have lit up because Bix waved it off. “Not into town. Just outside in the woods. You’ll be foraging and returning your finds to the commissary for distribution.”
“Foraging? Seriously?”
“Pecan
s, if there are any left. Bay Laurel leaves, wild onion—whatever. You’ll need to be back in thirty minutes. A guard will escort you out the gate and then you’re on your own. Be safe.”
Thirty minutes? How much could they get done in thirty minutes? It’s a test, Cordelia. It had to be a test. Maybe they expected Argoth to ramp up his game and give her trouble outside the gate and wanted to see how she handled it.
When they arrived at the gate, the guard handed each of them a small sack before punching in the code to open the gate and waving them through.
When the gate slammed closed behind them, she turned to Argoth. “Look. Don’t try anything stupid. I don’t know what kind of bullshit assignment this is, but let’s just get through it and move on.”
❄ ❄ ❄
Outside the gates with only Delia as a guard. He couldn’t believe they’d already let them outside. That was probably why the short timeline. They could only get so far in thirty minutes. Probably had a remote to blow the implants if they weren’t back in that time.
Assuming he was correct, that meant the remote only reached a maximum of three—no four—miles. If he was at top-strength, he could definitely make four miles in thirty minutes, but it was pointless. He needed to flash them out of there. Sure, he could wait, try to make more progress with Delia first, but anything could happen. There was no guarantee they’d be allowed outside the gates again.
“One day you’ll realize, Delia, I’m on your side.”
She rolled her ice-blue eyes and headed for the woods around the corner, along the back side of the gate. He needed energy to flash, especially to flash both of them and the only way to get it was through sexual contact. If he threw the whole weight of his projection on her, she’d be highly pissed and more distrusting of him than ever, but desperate times…
When she bent over in front of him to pick through the scrub, it wasn’t hard to conjure the images he needed to project to her, but he decided to give rationalization a chance first.
“Delia, we don’t have much time. I need you to listen to me.”
She frowned up at him, then stood, flipping auburn hair behind her before squaring her shoulders. “Not even out here five minutes and already working an angle?”
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