“Solomon.” She nibbled at that poor lower lip again. “I don’t know what to say.” Her already flushed cheeks burned brighter.
“Yes, you do.” I arched an eyebrow with the assertion. “All you have to do is what comes naturally. That is all I will ever ask of you. Relish this carnality, just like you will revel in how sweet your revenge will be. Each and every emotion you have is valid, Tara.”
She gulped, panting at my words. “But—”
“But nothing,” I insisted, interrupting her. “I will never judge you. I will never cast a moral verdict on your behavior or the way you feel. The righteous do not last long where I come from.” I paused, laughing at the thought. The righteous were pulled down, chewed up, and spat out where I came from. “You’re free of all that now. Free of their moral confines. Free of their disapproving looks and scorn.”
She exhaled, rolling in my direction, though her arms remained pinned above her head.
“But how can that be?” she whispered into my chest. “How can it be, if I do the wrong thing, I’ll be so greatly rewarded?”
Smiling, I reached for her face, stroking her heated cheek gently.
“Your view of these things is upside down. The things you have been taught to value are meaningless, and those you have been socialized to deny are salient. Live in those emotions now—in the hatred, in the passion, in the need. If it makes you feel good, I say do it. Stay right there and serve me.”
Tara blinked at me, and it was clear from her thoughts, she didn’t understand, not really, but she was considering the idea. She was eager to try, and that meant the world.
For the first time, a mortal wanted to heed my call, needed to obey me. In all the centuries, I had never known such a luxury. There had only been coercion and possession, recklessly pursuing and taking what I wanted, without thought or care for what I left behind. But now there was Tara.
Now, everything was different.
“I will.” Her tone was even as she replied, a small smile forming on her lips. “I will, Master.”
“Good little mortal,” I cooed, holding the side of her face. “You do that for me, and I will be there for you, Tara.”
Her gaze lit up, sparkling as my words resounded in her mind.
“I can’t imagine,” she started. “I can’t even think about what that would be like.”
“Will be like,” I corrected her. “And as you will worship me, I will hold you up as the world falls apart. You never need to worry about a thing again.”
“Master,” she breathed the noun, protracting the two syllables into one long, blissful sound. “Thank you. Thank you for taking me on. Thank you for coming to rescue me.”
I paused at her words, their power halting me, but my hesitation was brief.
“You are welcome, little mortal.” I brushed my thumb idly over her soft skin. “I have you now.
“I will always have you.”
Chapter Eleven
Tara
It was the most curious dynamic. My entire life had been spent hanging on the coattails of people who didn’t want me, didn’t appreciate me, didn’t value me—the mother, who’d never sacrificed anything for my suffering, the wicked, disgusting creep she’d allowed into our lives, and later, the meaningless men I’d encountered. I’d tried to appease them all in various, denigrating ways, and looking back, I couldn’t recall why.
None of them came close to this—this feeling of devotion, sense of worth, and the knowledge I could finally trust in something. Even though it was the one thing I shouldn’t have faith in, even though what he represented was an affront to faith itself, it didn’t matter.
I didn’t care.
I believed in him.
I had confidence when he said he’d always be there.
Solomon would live for an eternity—forever.
An existence of this—the warmth which exuded from his fingertips, the sense his words made as they washed over me, and the simple fact I knew he meant what he said. He was going to make Gavin suffer. He was going to ensure the very last face that man saw was mine—the smiling, laughing face of my hatred and what it symbolized as he roared with torment.
I wouldn’t only be his victim when that moment came. I would be every victim—the vindicated smile of every helpless child who’d cried themselves to sleep, of every powerless woman who’d been forced to endure, of every person who’d been subjugated and held against their will. They would all be embodied in me then—and I couldn’t wait.
Justice would come. It was coming for Gavin.
Solomon would see to that, and I would be right by his side.
“Are you ready?”
His low, gruff tone stirred me, and I lifted my head to find Solomon looming by the side of the bed, where I’d remained since he’d brought me back from the restaurant. In this large, luxurious space, Solomon played my body like an instrument, keeping me hot and thrumming with need, while he refused to satisfy that need properly—not until this deed was done.
Not until Gavin was dealt with.
“I’m ready, Master,” I replied, rising to my feet and taking the hand outstretched toward me.
Ignoring the excited, fluttering wings of the butterflies in my belly, I gripped his fingers, knowing they weren’t actually flesh and blood, but not caring. Solomon was flesh to me. He’d resolved to stay in this form for as long as I needed, hour after hour, telling me time no longer mattered. Whether we stayed in this room, walked the earth, or in the end, he took me to perdition, the idea no longer scared me—so long as I was with him, so long as I had his hand.
I had no concept of how long we’d spent in this room. Food appeared whenever I was hungry, the most delicious meals I’d imagined. If I grew weary, I slept. If I needed stimulation, I talked to him—endless hours of relentless conversations. The creature knew everything—geography, science, history, and entertainment—there wasn’t a subject he couldn’t give an inciteful opinion on, and of course, theology was one of his favorites, a matter he spoke about at length. Thoughts of my old life hardly entered my head. The few meager possessions I owned materialized when I wanted them, along with anything else I desired. Books, music, my laptop, I had them all when I sought them, though I never saw them littered about the place at other times.
I don’t know if he was with me the entire time. Perhaps he left while I slept. I assumed he had other things to do. Other people to see, but I didn’t ask. I didn’t see the need to question him.
I might have committed to serving the demon, yet I’d never felt safer in my life, or more satiated. It was as if I was moving underwater, each gesture slow and intentional, every moment, conscious of the alien nature of the environment, yet I was serene. My head was submerged, but somehow, I was breathing just fine.
I was in the greatest danger, but never more secure.
Solomon was that contradiction. He’d become my end and my beginning. He was everything, and I was prepared to give him everything in return.
It was obvious, as natural as taking my next breath.
His gaze glowered at me, the stare making the muscles at the apex of my thighs clench in the way he seemed to be able to do on demand. My pulse sped up, excited at the determination in his eyes, but I understood this moment wasn’t about my pleasure or even his. It wasn’t about sexual gratification whatsoever.
This was about vengeance—my vengeance—the culmination of years of plotting and scheming, dreaming about the reprisals Gavin deserved, the ways I wanted to hurt him, and intended to see him suffer.
“This may not be the way you expect it to be.”
Inhaling at his deep, demonic growl, I met his eyes. Over the course of the time we’d spent together, I’d grown more accustomed to his timbre, but nonetheless, I shuddered at the sound, my instincts telling me to run, even though my brain always overrode them.
“What do you mean, Master?”
His gaze was no longer green, but black, the darkest I’d ever known it, and something about
that seemed ominous, tightening the knot of energy in my tummy. Slightly, ever so slightly, excitement morphed into something a little more foreboding, anticipation becoming anxiety, eagerness transforming into agitation—all because of the look in his eyes. Nothing had changed, nothing was different, except that dark gaze and his knowing expression.
“I mean, prepare yourself.” He squeezed my fingers gently before leading me away. “For all your vengeful fantasies, you are pure, Tara Levinson.”
I laughed at his assessment. Purity was something I’d lost many moons ago, something Gavin had torn from my innocent body.
“Hardly, Master,” I scoffed. “I am the one who wanted this, the genesis of this whole plan. I am not sweetness and light.”
“But you know nothing of hell.”
He stopped and turned in an unhurried way, his feet seeming to glide, rather than shuffle in my direction. My breath caught at the unnatural movement, my impulse to retreat, despite the protests of my head.
Solomon wasn’t going to hurt me, but God help the man he was going to hurt. My lips curled at the idea.
“I know he made you suffer. I know all about the torment. I have seen it in your dreams, Tara. All of it. Even the things you couldn’t bring yourself to tell me.”
I sensed the blood draining from my face at his words. I knew he was capable of such abilities, yet the thought of him scouring my most private and horrific memories was more than just disconcerting. It was terrifying. Still, this was what I wanted. I had conjured Solomon, and best I remember it. It was too late to whimper at the power I’d ceded in the demon—far too late.
“Then you know he deserves it.”
“He does, yes.” Solomon nodded. “But you must brace for the things you will see and hear. There will be parts of me you have never known before. I may be the monster you summoned, rather than the creature who has held you.”
“I understand.”
“No, you do not.” His lips twitched at his own assessment. “You think you do, of course, but it is quite impossible for the mortal brain to conceive such things until they are witnessed. Then it is impossible to unsee what has been witnessed.”
He paused, drawing me close to his body, and I went gladly, resting my head against the expanse of his chest, listening to the sound of the heartbeat, which I knew didn’t really exist. It was feigned—a lie—put there to lull and reassure me, just like this room, just like the gorgeous guise he wore.
I knew it and at least, in part, processed it. Yet still, I needed it.
“You think I will love you less?” I tilted my head to look up at his face, and obligingly, he met my gaze. “You think I’ll be any less dedicated to you once this is done?”
“Love?” Solomon’s lips curled. “You speak of love as though it is something I could even understand, let alone register.”
“But you do,” I assured him. “I know you do, Master. You have cherished me in this room more than any man has ever done before. You respect me. You listen. You care for me. If that isn’t love, what is?”
“We have no time for this theoretical discussion, little mortal.” He chuckled softly. “Though one day, I am sure I will enjoy it.” His expression hardened. “It does not matter to me, which is the point. Whether you love me less or not, it does not matter. The things you have sworn remain intact, whatever your feelings on the matter, you are mine, Tara Levinson. Once you have looked into the face of the man who tried to conquer you, once you have spat in his face and your relentless need for revenge is spent, you will still be mine.”
My gaze lowered briefly, taking in his collar bones. “I know,” I breathed. “I know, and I’m not sorry, Master.”
One of his hands rose to my hair, burying his fingers between the strands and fisting it with enough strength to hold me steady.
“I do not want you to be sorry.” His brooding gaze drilled right into me, burning at my flesh as if each contemplation was fiery. “I just want you to be aware.”
“Okay.” My voice was tiny, as I replied. “Okay, I hear you.”
“And afterward, when the bloodlust is complete, when you are exhausted from watching him suffer, and when I am finally replete, then I shall have you.”
Oh, fuck. My throat dried at the dark glimmer in his eyes that assertion brought, yet despite the ball of nerves at my core, I couldn’t suppress the craving it ignited.
All the time we’d been here, I’d wanted him.
I’d tried to tempt him with my longing looks and dripping desire, but seemingly, neither were enough. We had to wait. Wait for Gavin to get his just desserts. Wait for the time to be right—that’s what he’d told me—and if there was one thing I was learning about my demon master, it was he meant what he said.
The devils I had read about in paperbacks were always tricky, lying and manipulating to garner control and oppress—to get what they wanted. While I was sure Solomon was capable of those things, I’d never suffered for them—quite the opposite, in fact. With me, there seemed limitless control and a need for order.
First, we make my perpetrator pay, then we allow the lust to overcome us. He exhibited more willpower than most humans I’d ever known, and he did it with suave sophistication.
“You are overthinking.” His fingers tightened in my hair until I winced. “What is the correct reply, Tara? What is the right reply when I tell you I am going to fuck you?”
Whatever oxygen existed in the place seemed to vanish at the intensity in his gaze.
“Yes, Master,” I mouthed, though there was little audible reply.
“What was that?” His eyebrow rose, daring me to defy him, to not say the words he wanted to hear.
Pulling in a deep breath, I absorbed his dark expression. Had he ever been fiercer? Had he ever been more like the demon I’d imagined?
“Yes, Master.”
I forced the words out in the end, and only once he was satisfied did those digits loosen, his hand falling to my waist before the room began to blur around us.
Chapter Twelve
Solomon
It was pitifully easy to find him. Gavin’s skulking form was hunched over a laptop as I wandered into the condo on the other side of town. That was the first thing that riled me. While Tara had been scraping by in a shitty shared apartment, her abuser was living the comparative life of Riley on the plush side of the city, his glass-fronted complex every inch the American dream. He was only missing the white picket fence.
“Hey!” He fell back from the breakfast bar as I sauntered toward him, no doubt wondering how a complete stranger had managed to get inside his luxury home. “Who the fuck are you?”
I didn’t speak at first, there was no need. One look was all it took for Gavin to sense something was wrong. Apparently, the guy was a fiend, not a fool. That was just fine with me. I was a fiend, too. I was derived from ancient evil, a power so strong, it would extinguish the dark deeds playing out in his head.
Gavin didn’t stand a chance.
“Gavin Ranger?”
My voice thundered around the white room, widening the guy’s eyes, and for the first time, I really looked at him. Probably in his early fifties, Gavin could easily have passed for sixty years old. His gray hair had thinned, the lines at his face were deep, and stumbling in my direction, I could see the years of overeating had taken its toll.
“Who wants to know?”
And there was the bravado, a weak veneer of hot air I was going to literally obliterate.
“Are. You. Gavin. Ranger?” I asked slowly, punctuating each word as he approached.
He was like a toad, pathetic little legs hanging under his oversized belly, and fleetingly, I imagined that toad touching what was mine. The simmering knot of anger began to furl inside me.
“Y-yes.”
He pushed the word out, his eyes burning with what I guessed was supposed to be defiance, but the façade did not fool me. Gavin’s fear shone through as clearly as I could hear his racing heart. The silly little man was pe
trified—for good reason.
“Then you know Tara Levinson?”
My gaze drilled into him, witnessing the imperceptible responses others would have missed—the skip of his heartbeat, the way his eyes widened ever so slightly, the low-lying dread burgeoning beneath his engorged belly—the telltale signs of his terror.
“I knew her once.” He rolled his eyes. “Why, what the fuck has she been saying?” Then, as if he recalled the offenses he committed. “And who the hell are you, asshole? You can’t just walk in here and—”
I lifted my palm, and his words halted at once. The shocked, bewildered expression on his face demonstrated what a surprise this was to him, his fingers rising to his lips as though he wanted to check they were still there. Inside his mind, his thoughts were screaming of dread and alarm, trying to ascertain how I gained access to the property, what I wanted, what he could bribe me with…
My lips curled at the futile drivel.
Nothing was going to save Gavin now. His fate was sealed—he just didn’t know it yet.
“It’s time to pay, Gavin.”
I closed my eyes, waiting as my voice echoed around the open-plan space. I also had a penchant for the dramatic, and to be honest, I was going to enjoy this.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” His lips were working again, though his words sounded stilted. “Just get the fuck out!”
“I do not think so.” My eyes opened again, but this time my guise began to slip, and rather than fluttering up and down, my eyelids flickered left to right, their natural hue no doubt visible.
Gavin gasped, staggering back toward the breakfast counter.
“What are you?”
His heart was hammering so hard, I could barely hear his query over the noisy organ. Looking at the size of the man again, I wondered how much coercion he would be able to take before that weak little heart just gave way. Not that I wouldn’t be able to bring him back to life and prolong his ordeal, of course, but the question raised an interesting tangent I hadn’t considered before.
“The piper.” I flashed him a smile, except now, instead of the perfect row of white teeth Tara had seen, my natural incisors were on show, their jagged ends usually enough to make most mortals quiver with fright. “And it is time for you to pay.”
Defy Me: A Paranormal Demon Romance (The Demonology Series Book 2) Page 7