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

by Felicity Brandon

  “Of you?”

  Wait… what? Had I actually just said that?

  Solomon laughed gently. “Oh no, you can be afraid of me if you like, Tara. Some might say, it would be the sensible path in light of your new circumstances.”

  “Oh.” My head was starting to spin, so I glanced around for my bed, wanting to sit and catch my breath, but too embarrassed to do so.

  “But you should not be afraid or ashamed of what you have here. It is meaningless. Especially, now you are mine.”

  My lips parted as I turned back toward him, but there were no words.

  No words to convey this myriad of emotions.

  No words to explain the way he made me feel.

  “Tara.” He reached for my arm, and my gaze followed his grasp.

  “I-I don’t know what to say.”

  “You look pale.” His gaze was knowing, yet his eyes seemed to dance with unspoken need.

  Salacious need.

  But surely, that couldn’t be true. Could it? What would a creature as distinguished and authoritative as Solomon see in me? He’d said it himself, he didn’t see me that way. I wasn’t appealing to him. I was just—

  “Tara.” His soft, taunting tone stopped my thought process dead, and all at once, the mist seemed to clear. I was able to think again.

  “Yes, Master.”

  “Are you well?”

  “Perhaps you were right.” I gaped at him. “I think I am hungry and a little lightheaded.”

  “I see.” He pressed his lips into a hard line as if he was suppressing another emotion. “Then I had better get sustenance into you, then we can discuss how to execute this vengeance of yours.”

  My eyes fluttered at him. “Execute?”

  “Merely a figure of speech, Tara.”

  “Oh.” What was that, a stab of disappointment?

  “Unless, of course, you want him dead?” His eyes drilled into me. “You never said so, but maybe you were fearful to do so because I could do it, you know. It would be the easiest thing in the world to send this Gavin onto the next life. There is a multitude of my kind, eager to torment him for the rest of time.”

  It was wrong—I knew it was wrong—but I couldn’t deny how good that sounded.

  “Can we talk about it, Master?”

  He roared at my query, sending laughter bouncing around the walls.

  “Yes, little Tara,” he said with a chuckle. “We can talk.”

  Chapter Six

  Solomon

  I teleported us directly to the swankiest Italian restaurant in the city. I knew neither the district nor the region where Tara resided, but it was of no concern. I had the ability to take us anywhere in an instant, and as the scene around us morphed, I ensured we were both dressed in more suitable attire. She yelped as time and space churned around us, and unthinkingly, I reached for her, pulling her tiny frame toward me.

  “Solomon!” she gasped, the sound scarcely audible.

  “You’re safe.”

  I told her the things I knew she needed to hear—the things mortals always needed—the soft reassurances, the lulling lies. Right on cue, she collapsed against me, her mind resonating with fear, while her body accepted its fate—and its fate was simple. Whatever I deemed it to be.

  By the time the dark swirling fog of the transition cleared, she was virtually clinging to me, her fragile digits clawing at my sides as I glanced down.

  “It is over. We’re here.”

  Wide eyes meet mine. “Wh-what just happened, Master?”

  I smiled at the question, happy she was content to call me Master, even in this new location, but then Tara lifted her head to notice where we were…

  “We relocated.” I arched a brow at her, relishing the small bloom of heat collecting in her cheeks. “It’s how I get around.”

  Oh my God!

  Her thoughts should have irritated me, but I only smiled.

  “I am not sure God will help you,” I murmured. “He spends little time concerning himself with the fate of mortals.”

  Tara swallowed. “Where are we?”

  “Take a look.” I breathed the words at her diminutive frame. “We are where you wanted to be.”

  Tentatively, she eased herself from my body and peered around at our destination. Standing in the foyer of an upmarket Italian restaurant, dressed in our finest evening wear, we didn’t look out of place, but there was one salient point Tara was yet to realize.

  None of the other patrons could see us.

  “A restaurant?”

  Her voice was full of wonder, and I marveled. How long had it been since I experienced emotion like that? Since I relished the light of a full moon or the beautiful curve of a woman’s body? The answer came to me clearly—too long. It had been far too long.

  “An Italian establishment, just as you wanted.”

  “Wow! It looks incredible.” Her gaze flitted around the place for a moment longer before the inevitable list of objections consumed her mind. “But I can’t be here,” she exclaimed, her hands rising to her mouth like she’d said something outrageous. “I’m not dressed for a place like this, Master. I don’t have anything for a place like this.”

  “You look fine to me,” I replied, gesturing to the dark crimson gown she now wore, and as Tara’s focus fell over her own body for the first time, my words resonated.

  She did look fine.

  She had a tight little body hidden beneath the old sweatpants she had worn, long, toned limbs and an adorable, expressive face. Her hair was pinned back to reveal an enticing, slender neck—a place I could well imagine kissing. I had always been drawn to the necks of mortals. It was an easy target if you wanted to wound, but there was something equally compelling about the relentless pulse that pounded there—which made me want to run my lips over her smooth flesh.

  Yes, Tara Levinson was quite unlike the waif I had encountered earlier in that crappy rented room.

  “Oh my!” she gasped, her attention back on my face. “You did this?”

  “I did. We both needed to be a little more presentable.”

  Her gaze fell south to the expensive black suit I had donned, and her pulse quickened.

  Bloody hell. Her blush grew as she appraised me. Bloody hell, he looks amazing.

  “You like what you see?” My eyebrow rose once more with the query, and as if I’d commanded it, Tara began to pant.

  “You look…” She hesitated, glancing around at the line of waiting customers and the grand piano as though she was embarrassed to end her sentence.

  “It is okay,” I reassured her. “No one else can see or hear us yet.”

  Her eyes fluttered at me in disbelief. “They can’t?”

  “Not until I make it so.” I was enjoying myself. It had been a long time since I had been able to showcase my skills to someone who was so obviously impressed. “You can be honest. I will find out anyhow…”

  She gulped at my pronouncement.

  “You look very distinguished, Master.” Her gaze lowered as she tried in vain to conceal her furious blush.

  “Distinguished?” I liked it. Had any mortal ever described me that way before? Usually, their responses rotated between terror, torment, and resignation. Occasionally, if I took this form, there had been the flicker of lust, but it was not something I actively sought. Sex had never been a big driver for me, but I had to admit, I adored the desire in her eyes.

  I wanted more of it.

  “Yes.” Her voice was hardly a whisper. “Is that okay?”

  I chuckled. “That is more than okay,” I assured her. “Now, let us get you fed.”

  One click of my fingers was all it took to reveal us, but of course, the nearby people didn’t even notice. Mortals never noticed anything. You had to actually be in their faces for them to see you. They saw only what they wanted to see.

  Taking her hand, I led her past the waiting line, breezing to the head of the queue.

  “Master.” Her fingers tightened in my palm as she skip
ped behind, trying to whisper. “Shouldn’t we wait for our turn?”

  I ignored her foolish whimpers, addressing the maitre d’ directly.

  “We need a table.”

  “I’m afraid we have no free tables this evening, sir,” he answered without so much as looking up from his screen, his French accent grating. “If you’d like to wait for the chance to dine, you are welcome to join the back of the line of guests behind you.”

  “Perhaps you did not hear me.” My voice was low, calm, but insistent. “I said we need a table.”

  He heard me that time, alright, his racing thoughts pausing at my timbre. Lifting his head from the screen, which seemed to occupy so much of his attention, his eyes widened. Instinctively, the guy recognized what everybody around him failed to. Being this close to my proximity, he knew I was a danger, he could sense it. As he clutched the wooden counter for support, I wanted to ram that point across to him.

  “Oh, I’m s-sorry, Sir.”

  He was rambling now, desperately trying to get his thoughts in order as he regarded me, but it was an endeavor certain to fail. There was nothing about me that looked out of the ordinary. In my expensive suit, I probably looked like every other pompous, overdressed customer, but his gut told him otherwise. It alerted the maitre d’ to the fact I was a predator. Someone he’d normally want to keep away from, but someone who, at the very least, he should seek to keep happy.

  “My apologies.” He flashed me a practiced smile. “I didn’t recognize you. It’s Mr.?”

  “Graves.” I returned his smile, pulling Tara closer.

  He was getting himself together now, using his years of experience to fight for composure. “A table for two, Mr. Graves?”

  “Yes, please. Somewhere quiet.”

  “Of course. One moment, please.” The maitre d’ bowed politely, wandering away to speak to one of his staff.

  “They will get a table for us now,” I told Tara as I glanced in her direction.

  “Do I even want to know how you did that?”

  I grinned. “It is not difficult when you’re a demon. People tend to do as you tell them or face the consequences.”

  “That must be nice.” Her voice was almost a sigh. “I can’t even imagine.”

  “You will not have to, Tara,” I reminded her. “You are mine, which means you will get used to this level of attention anywhere we go.”

  We were led away by a young, blonde waitress, who glanced nervously over her shoulder as she guided us to the perfect table. Set on an elevated platform, it was sufficiently private, yet still overlooked the main dining room. Thrusting the menus at me, she quickly reeled off the list of specials before scuttling away.

  Tara watched her retreat. “I think you frightened her off, Master.”

  She seemed more relaxed now that we were seated, but I sensed the thrum of excitement in her body, like a tightly-wound toy ready to be unraveled, and her eyes sparkled when she addressed me.

  “It would seem so,” I agreed playfully. “I do sometimes have that effect.”

  For a moment, our gazes locked, her smile widening as my eyes drilled into her.

  “I had no idea how appealing you were when we struck our accord this morning, Ms. Levinson.”

  She lifted her chin, revealing more of that gorgeous neck I wanted to explore with my lips, her breathing increasing.

  “Thank you.” The scarlet at her cheeks burned almost as hot as the solitary lit candle between us. “I don’t know what else to say, Master.” She’d lowered her voice to address me, conscious we may be overheard, though, at this table, I doubted that very much.

  “You do not know how to take a compliment?” I probed, leaning in toward her.

  “I’ve never had much reason to learn,” she explained. Her lower lip caught between her teeth, and she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I’ve never had many compliments.”

  In her heart, I could tell that was not just a self-deprecating line, designed to garner more flattery. It was true. In all her years, it seemed no one had let her know how special she was. No one had ever noticed.

  “That is going to change, now you are with me.” My tone was emphatic.

  With you? She screamed the thought at me, though her lips never moved. I’m with you?

  I smiled. “You are mine.”

  “But you said so yourself, Master,” she started. “Earlier, at my place, you said you weren’t attracted to me and—”

  I lifted my palm, the gesture ending her sentence.

  “That is not what I said,” I told her with a knowing tone, though in reality, I had likely implied as much. “In fact, I recall referring to you as beautiful when we spoke about the predator who hurt you.”

  “I-I don’t remember, Master.” Her brow creased as she tried to recollect the conversation from this morning.

  “Then, you will have to take my word for it, Tara.”

  “Okay,” she sighed.

  My lips curled at her response.

  “And I was right,” I went on, reveling in this opportunity to talk to her this way. “You are beautiful, Tara. All you need is a little time and attention.”

  “Really?”

  Her cheeks were a deep, alluring red, the color of a soundly spanked bottom, and fleetingly, I imagined her over my knee and turning her own delectable little ass that hue. A tantalizing prospect, and one I could not wait to explore with my new little servant. Once the matter of her stepfather was resolved, I would have her wrapped around my little finger.

  Even though she’d been the one who’d summoned me, I was the one in control—in command.

  I had made her an offer she simply couldn’t refuse.

  My smile broadened as the idea blossomed in my dark mind.

  I could not lose.

  I never lost.

  “Oh, yes, Tara,” I enthused, ignoring the waiter, who came into my line of sight at that moment. “Really.”

  Chapter Seven

  Tara

  I couldn’t believe what was happening. Time seemed to move in accelerated pockets, and I couldn’t keep up. One moment, I was contemplating the washing up after another unappetizing bowl of soup, and now, I was in this impossibly grandiose place, with Solomon, the dark, mysterious man across the table from me.

  Except, he wasn’t just a man, was he?

  I knew it since I was the one who’d conjured him.

  My heart beat even faster, my throat drying, though I wasn’t sure if it was apprehension or arousal which created the deed. I’d never known anything like this. It wasn’t just the luxury of the restaurant or the undeniable sway he had over every person in it, including me, it was just the air Solomon had about him. He oozed power, calm, and control, and by some miracle, he was with me. I shook my head in disbelief, allowing that thought to register again.

  He was with me.

  “Well, thank you.” Suddenly, I was aware he was answering my private evaluation, and though it didn’t seem possible, I blushed even harder.

  “May I ask if you’re ready to select a drink for the evening, sir?”

  Naturally, the young waiter’s attention was attracted to Solomon, and I certainly couldn’t blame him. My focus flitted from the waiter, back to Solomon, waiting on his verdict. Solomon’s gaze bored into me, a small smile on his lips as he contemplated my reaction. As if he was trying to hypnotize me, the intensity of that look penetrating the very soul he sought so highly. My lips parted in response, though I hadn’t instructed them to do so.

  “The lady likes red wine.” Solomon turned to the waiter. “Do you have a wine list?”

  “Certainly, sir. Let me get that for you.”

  I exhaled, unaware I’d been holding my breath.

  “How did you know?” The words tumbled out as the waiter walked away.

  “I read the need in you,” he answered as though it was the most normal reply in the world. Perhaps, to a demon, it was. “It is not so hard, Tara.”

  “Oh.”

>   I was so small and pathetic compared to him, just like my response, but there was no getting away from the reality. Solomon was here, and he was powerful. He could pulverize me any time he liked, yet he had chosen to answer the call to be my ally in this one important task.

  My master.

  I sucked my lower lip between my teeth.

  Master.

  What did that even mean?

  “Here we go, Sir.”

  The waiter was back, waving yet another menu in Solomon’s face. My gaze flitted to the original one his colleague had placed in front of me. I hadn’t even started looking at the choices.

  “We’ll take a bottle of the Cabernet Shiraz.” Solomon didn’t even glance at the list, his expression even as he gave the response.

  “Very good, Sir.” The waiter wrinkled his nose, evidently annoyed at the way the wine list hadn’t been consulted.

  “And sparkling water for the table.” Solomon’s attention was back on me, his lips twitching while he spoke.

  “Right away, Sir.”

  I waited until our server had wandered away before I went on.

  “Thank you, Master. I wouldn’t have known what to order.”

  “You will never have to,” he assured me. “I will order for you from now on, although… you were the one who wanted Italian food.” He paused, gesturing toward the menu in front of me. “Would you like to choose this once?”

  I glanced down, my eyes scanning over the array of choices. It all looked fabulous, though, as the décor suggested, much of the menu sounded rich and overpriced.

  “The linguine, please,” I murmured after a moment of consideration.

  “With shrimp?”

  Lifting my head, I met his sparkling eyes. I’d honestly never seen a pair like them, but then, I’d never had a date with a demon before.

  “Yes, please.”

  Solomon nodded. “I will take care of it. I want you to relax and tell me what you have in mind for your stepfather.”

  An involuntary shudder passed up my spine at the mere mention of Gavin. It was impossible for me to equate that man with anything akin to relaxation.

  “Take your time.” As if he’d sensed my thoughts, or likely, just read them, Solomon leaned back in his chair and signaled for the waiter’s attention. “I will order while you find the right words.”