Defy Me: A Paranormal Demon Romance (The Demonology Series Book 2)

by Felicity Brandon

  Shifting her weight one foot to the next, a bloom of heat blossomed in her cheeks.

  “You are uncomfortable with my assessment of you.” It was a statement rather than a question, and she closed her eyes at my words.

  “Yes, Master. No one ever looks at me now. I don’t allow it.”

  “But they did once,” I surmised. “This Gavin looked at you. He did more than just look.”

  Tara gulped, nodding as her eyes flickered open. “Yes.” There were tears in her eyes with the confession. “Yes, he did much more than just look.”

  “Who else?” Her tears didn’t move me. I had witnessed more than my share of them over the centuries and never been affected. “Who else looked at you, Tara Levinson?”

  Her gaze flitted to mine—lots of men. She didn’t say the words, but I heard them in her thoughts—too many men.

  “Here?” I glanced around the sparse little room again. “In this place?”

  “Everywhere.” Her voice was close to breaking, but she fought for composure with admirable effort. There was fortitude in the girl. I couldn’t deny that much.

  “Because you are beautiful,” I concluded. “Men always want to corrupt beautiful things.”

  “And they have,” She pressed her lips into a tight line. “I am corrupted, Master, and I am angry. Seething, actually.”

  “Yes.” I smiled. “I can sense the fury in you. It is, I think, what drew me to you in the first place.”

  I had no way of proving that, but it stood to reason. Of all the mortals trying to summon demons to their bedrooms, we were only compelled to answer the call of the most solemn, the most depraved, the most entertaining. Sometimes, I sent my minions to deal with the others, but mostly I ignored them or watched their struggles for a while before I went about my existence.

  “So, will you help me?”

  Tired green eyes implored me as I closed the distance between us, a hue that reminded me fleetingly of my master. She was scarcely over five feet, and I quite literally towered over her.

  Running my tongue over my teeth, I considered her query. Would I help her?

  “What would you have me do to this Gavin?”

  She stared up into my eyes, and despite the obvious weariness, there was conviction in her gaze, a determination to bring down the bastard who had tried to crush her. Anger, frustration, and wrath—all of my favorite sins combined into one purposeful look.

  “I want to pulverize him.” Her breath quickened at the thought. She was excited? Animated at the idea of inflicting this pain? “But I want it to be slow, Master. Protracted.”

  I sniggered at the passion in her voice. “You want me to make him feel it?”

  She exhaled, her lips curling. “Yes, Master,” she confirmed. “Every fucking minute of it.”

  “And you would like to be the one to deliver this retribution—this punishment?” It wasn’t clear from the fogged fury of her thoughts what Tara wanted in this regard.

  “Perhaps,” she muttered. “I’m not sure, but I’d like to be there when it happens. I want to see the fear in his face and witness the agony in his eyes.”

  I reached for her, sliding my fingers around her nape, and burying them in her hair. The potency of her words was powerful—she had no idea how powerful—but each spirited sentiment roused me, making my cock strain against the black fabric prison my human guise had confined it in. I loved her anger and the way it moved her—made her passionate. I wanted to take that passion, her yearning to hurt Gavin, and make it mine.

  In that second, I decided. I would make Tara mine.

  “And what will you give me in return for this pleasure, Tara Levinson?”

  My fingers tightened in her hair, and she blew out a breath.

  “Anything.”

  Her pulse quickened, the beating of her heart racing at the prospect of what she was confessing. I could tell Tara had done her homework. She knew the types of things she would need to sacrifice to get what she wanted, knew the risks she was taking, yet did not care.

  Her desire for revenge was so great, she had concluded long ago it was worth the risk—worth the sacrifice—so long as she brought Gavin down.

  “Anything? Are you sure?”

  She fixed me with a steely stare. “Yes.”

  There was authority in her tone now—power and clarity, which I was not feeding her. The idea of finally enacting her vengeance motivated her.

  “Yes, Master. I am sure. What will you have me pay for the privilege?”

  I laughed darkly at her question, already drawn to the willowy mortal. Yes, she was weak and vulnerable, but there was a strength inside her as well. A will that had kept her alive while she huddled over the old books, working out how to summon me. It was that aspect of Tara I wanted to capture—that part I wanted to possess.

  “I will think on it, Tara Levinson, but until I decide, I want you to remember this. No one ever died from wanting revenge, or if they did, I paid them no heed. Use this energy—your hatred for the man—to serve me, and together, we will destroy the fiend who hurt you.”

  I was reconciled. I would help her, and the look of triumph on her face may well have been reward enough.

  Chapter Three

  Tara

  Relief emanated at Solomon’s words. This course of action had been a gamble from the beginning, but standing before him now, it was clearly a gamble that would pay off. I meant what I’d said. I’d do anything he wanted to bring down Gavin—anything at all. For years, I dreamed of hurting him, be it physically, emotionally, or financially, hell, I didn’t care, so long as the asshole experienced pain, and now, Solomon could make that a reality. My every focus was on achieving that aim, whatever the consequences.

  “Thank you,” I murmured to his chin, and those dark green eyes sparkled at me as reward. His gaze forever seemed to morph from shade to shade. It was utterly transfixing. “Thank you for saying yes, Master. I’ll pay any price. It’ll be worth it.”

  “So, you say.” His tone was dry, and for a moment, I feared he was changing his mind. “But I wonder if you truly know what you ask for.”

  “It doesn’t matter.” I pulled in a deep breath, my senses unraveling at the thought he might snatch the opportunity away as fast as it had appeared. “It doesn’t matter if I understand. Whatever it is, I’ll sacrifice.”

  “Your life?”

  One dark eyebrow arched at the question, the gesture making my heart race even faster. It was bad enough his fist was clenched in my hair, and I was unable to get away—that idea was curiously intoxicating, considering what a dangerous beast he was—but now, the idea of gambling with my life had been thrown into the mix. I was heady with both growing longing and fear, the combination potent as it swam in my brain.

  “Yes.”

  My voice was hoarse, but I pushed out the word with as much vigor as I could muster and stood by it. I would gladly die for the cause, as long as I’d see Gavin suffer first. My life had hardly been a bed of roses until this point. It hadn’t been only the cruelty I’d endured at his hands that had affected me, but the way my mother had reacted when I eventually plucked up the courage to confess what had been happening—the way she’d looked at me as if I’d led her husband on. My belly knotted at the memory of the expression she wore that day and the way she never once supported me. She never even hugged me. It was as if, from that day on, she couldn’t bear to be around me, and in all the years that followed, after I’d been to the police and the protracted agony of the trial, she’d never made contact or asked how I’d been—not a letter, not a phone call.

  I’d been forced to understand the terrible truth from a very young age. My mother was worse than Gavin. In all likelihood, she’d probably known what was going on—known what he was doing—and turned a blind eye to his crimes. But even if she hadn’t, even if she’d genuinely been in the dark, the way she’d responded was impossible to forgive.

  It haunted me.

  Every inch as much as Gavin’s awful be
havior.

  “Yes, I’d give my life.”

  Solomon nodded. “Your soul?”

  “I have no idea what that even means,” I admitted, shrugging. “All I know is in all my years, I’ve not seen much evidence of a soul, neither mine nor anyone else’s.”

  His brow rose at my admission. “What a curious thing to say,” he murmured, his tone nothing like the ferocious devil I’d first summoned to my crappy little room. “What an odd statement when you must know all mortals have souls.”

  “I’ve seen no proof of it. There’s been little compassion in the humanity I’ve been exposed to, but if, as you say, I have such a thing, then you are welcome to it, Master.” What difference would it make? “I see no need for me to hang on to it.”

  “Interesting.” His fingers loosened in my hair. “I have never met anyone like you. Most mortals fear the loss of at least one of those, yet in you, I see not even a flicker of fear at the prospect.”

  “I want this so badly.” My eyes fluttered at the opportunity—a genuine chance to get even with Gavin. “You have no idea what it means to me, the way it drives me, the way it makes me feel.”

  Solomon’s lips curled at my tone, and fleetingly, I wondered if I’d gone too far—been too disrespectful—but it was too late. I’d been honest with my intent. I no longer had anything to lose, and in my heart, I knew he could read my thoughts and could find out these things for himself. So, what would be the point in lying?

  “Perhaps not.” The smirk was back on his face. “But I am starting to understand it, and I want you to channel that hate, that determination into me and into the things I command.”

  I inhaled, trying to clear my head, but it was more difficult than I realized. In such close proximity, Solomon was distracting, to say the least. When I’d considered conjuring him, I’d envisioned a repulsive creature materializing before me—a beast perhaps, with an ugly, gnarly face and jagged yellowing teeth. Never once had I contemplated this wonderful guise—a form so tempting, it had the ability to convince me he was no demon at all.

  “I can do that,” I gasped. “If that is your bidding, Master. If that is your price.”

  His tongue flicked from between his lips, the end not forked as I’d expected, yet it seemed considerably lither than a regular one as it whipped to the side of his lips before retreating again in a split second.

  “There will more than just that.”

  His tone was dry as one enormous hand shifted to my face. Seeing it rise in my peripheral vision, I braced myself, flinching just before my eyes squeezed shut in trepidation. If years of living with Gavin, then the loser landlords I’d endured since had taught me anything, it was when a man raised his hand to me, pain was imminent. It was with some surprise, there was no new injury.

  “Tara.” His tone was bewildered, his brows furrowed as I peered up at his expression. “Did you think I would hurt you?”

  I let out a long sigh. “That is usually a precursor to pain, yes.”

  Solomon shook his head. “You really have been forced to reside with vermin, Tara Levinson. I shall not punish you unless there is good reason and never like this.” His palm, still hovering by the side of my face, patted my flesh gently. “I meant only to garner your attention, to assure you the debt required will be greater than just your focus.”

  “I understand,” I squeaked. “What else will you require of me?”

  “Anything I choose.” His expression darkened. “Everything I desire, but you should know, I will never compel you to fuck me. I do not dally with lust like Asmodeus and Damon. It holds no interest to me.”

  “You don’t want me, then?” I barely managed to form the words.

  “Maybe I will, and maybe I won’t.” His hand shifted to my chin, his thumb and forefinger holding me in place before he continued. “All I can say for sure is you will be desperate for me before I claim you. No female—mortal or otherwise—can ever allege differently.”

  I blinked, dumbfounded. Not only was he the first to ever outright express disinterest in the concept of bedding me, but his insistence at moral virtue on the subject made my head spin. How could a demon, known for their nefarious ways, be so righteous about the subject?

  It was certainly a first for me.

  His expression relaxed. “The point is, I demand only your service. I have no need for a sex slave, Tara Levinson. Should I require sexual satisfaction, there are plenty of avenues I can choose to assuage it.”

  “Oh.” It was all I could think to say for a moment, the darkness in his gaze seeming to dazzle me into submission. “I can serve you,” I whispered in the end. “I welcome the meaning it would offer to my life. It has been grimly shallow for so long.”

  “For too long.”

  “Yes.” I leaned into the palm at the side of my face, though I didn’t know why. “Yes, too long.”

  It made no sense to crave the affection of the creature I’d conjured to help me avenge the unforgivable crimes Gavin had committed, yet as I tilted my head, I realized that’s what I was doing. He was the first to look at me as anything other than a cheap, easy lay. The first to attribute any other use to my existence, and somehow, even though it was illogical, that made him different.

  It made him special.

  “I can help you.” His voice washed over me. “I will help you, and in return, you will do my bidding.”

  “Yes, Master.” My response was immediate. I would gladly offer such a small prize to complete my life’s work. “Will I be allowed to live, or will you take me back with you?” My gaze darted naturally back to the place where Solomon had manifested before flitting back to his face.

  “I see no reason to slay you, Tara Levinson.”

  My breath caught at the way he said that—the way he always seemed to say my full name. Now that he was calm, his voice had a purring quality, vibrating over me, lulling me—luring me. Just like his mesmerizing eyes—the more I stared into them, the more I seemed to lose myself. It was as perturbing as it was electrifying.

  “You are far more useful to me alive.”

  “Okay.”

  His brow rose at my reply, and heat burned in my face as I recalled how easily he read my thoughts. Right now, Solomon could probably tell I was enthralled by the look and sound of him. I cringed inwardly at the thought, wishing I could glance away, but between the fingers at my face, and the pull of his gaze, that seemed for all the world, impossible.

  “If the time comes when we decide to move you into the next realm, it shall be only with our joint consideration. I do not compel you to servitude for all eternity—only in this life.”

  I swallowed, uncertain what to say.

  “Do you agree to these terms?”

  “A life of serving you in return for the protracted punishment of my stepfather?”

  He smiled at me. “That’s right.”

  “I agree, Master,” I replied with no hesitation whatsoever. “I am willing to sign on the dotted line of any contract you produce.”

  Solomon’s grin widened. “There will be no need for that, little mortal. Where I come from, words are as good as paper and ink, and our words—your words—have just been captured in time.”

  “They have?” I must have been blinking at him like a small, inane child, but it didn’t matter anymore. I was on the verge of getting everything I’d ever wanted.

  And nothing else mattered, except that.

  “Oh, yes,” he cooed. “Your word is good enough for me.”

  Chapter Four

  Solomon

  The schemes I had before Tara evaporated, their causes no longer significant when I returned to my master. I left her just as I found her, alone, in the dank little room, but things were different now. Tara was mine, sworn to serve me, and as such, bound by my protection. Even though I wasn’t with her incarnate, I was always there, watching over her, surveying her—in the place speech disappeared into silence. If she needed me, I would be right there with her. No one could hurt Tara Levinson
anymore.

  Except me.

  Striding into Satan’s court, I pushed past the waiting creatures huddled in awe of his presence. My master was the leader of the entire dark realm and always attracted masses of attention.

  “So, you have returned, Solomon?” His chilling timbre boomed around the chamber, but its eerie resonance had no effect on me.

  “I do, Master. I had not intended to leave, but I was conjured.”

  “By a mortal?” His face contorted with disgust. “Since when do you comply with the summons of that weak and fragile breed?”

  “Something about this one moved me, and we struck a deal.”

  “A deal?” Satan’s brow rose. “So, no oppression, no manifestation, no possession?”

  “I think she has suffered those things already.”

  His lips curled. “Ah, so it is a female?” He laughed ominously. “Someone who has caught your eye?”

  “I do not think so, Master,” I countered. “I was compelled to help her in return for her service, yet I am not induced to mate with the girl.”

  “That is curious, yet still you wanted to assist her?”

  “Yes.” I chuckled. “Odd, isn’t it?”

  “Very. You will show her to me, but first, we have matters to catch up on.”

  “Something happened while I was incarnate?”

  He shifted forward on his stony throne.

  “Indeed,” he replied. “I convened a meeting with the other princes, then with the rest of our kind.”

  A sensation close to anxiety twisted in my gut, but I pushed the emotion away. Beasts like us did not yield to concern, but there was something in Satan’s words that worried me.