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

by Felicity Brandon

  “Please, don’t hurt me!”

  Gavin threw his hands up in an act of surrender, and I wanted to roll my eyes at his woeful display. I knew the things this man had done to Tara—I had seen them in her mind’s eye, in her dreams, and in her memories—and as if the offenses needed reinforcement, his own scattering thoughts confirmed the same dismal list of deeds. The man was void of morality, and even I, a demon, could see his corruption, making his complete lack of fortitude all the more lamentable. The least he could do was take responsibility for his crimes—to own them—but no, at this, the most critical of junctures, all he could do was cede and plead for his laughable life—a man of such might and manipulation, looking to me for mercy.

  What a fucking joke!

  Not that Gavin would find any mercy. I was rarely known for my forbearance, much like the rest of my kind, but any hope he had was lost the moment Tara had started to mean something to me. Now, every time I looked at the trembling shell of the man, falling to his knees before me, I only saw her face. Tara as a frightened child, enduring the things he’d made her bear. The shame she’d felt. The guilt she’d carried all these years, then the burning, all-consuming hatred which had grown roots in her, burgeoning until it threatened to devour her. Until it compelled her to turn to something she didn’t understand.

  The ancient evil.

  Me.

  “You are coming with me.”

  I ignored the pitiful spectacle of his begging. There would be more of that to come.

  “You are coming with me, and you are going to pay for the things you did to Tara.”

  “That fucking bitch!” Gavin spat the words onto the floor between his outstretched palms. “She always was a useless piece of shit.”

  “Ah, he remembers me…”

  Tara appeared from the shadows in the corner, the place she’d been waiting, watching, her excitement increasing with each new tragic statement from Gavin. She stepped forward into the hazy light, a wry smile painted on her lips. She looked magnificent, dressed in a flowing crimson gown, which clung to her glorious curves. Her complexion was radiant from the nutrition and attention I had ensured she received over the previous days, and her hair was fixed high on her head. She was like a dark goddess, a future echo, perhaps, of the immortal I could create, should I so aspire.

  I had to admit, had I needed to breathe, she would have stolen the air from me.

  Gavin turned his head. “You!” His gaze narrowed. “You did this!”

  He lurched forward, a surge of fury spiking in his pathetic, fat little body, but I squashed it with ease, ensuring he fell flat on his ugly face.

  “Fuck you,” Tara hissed as she moved forward, but I could sense the way her heart had sped up at the gesture. Even after all this time, he had power over her—the power to scare her, to control her.

  My hands balled into fists at the idea. He didn’t have that right. This greasy little man should not wield any influence over the beguiling woman who had so entranced me.

  “Gavin Ranger.”

  The timbre of my voice was so intense, it shook the walls around us as his grubby little body left the ground beneath him. Lifting my gaze, his body rose accordingly, levitating above the hard floor.

  “I have a story for you.” Spinning his body ninety degrees, I brought him closer to the place I glowered. “A bedtime story. Just like all those bedtime stories you used to read to the little girl of the woman you married.”

  “You…” His face drained of color as he hovered before me. “You can’t do this.”

  I laughed, shaking my head. “Wrong,” I assured him. “I can do what I like. I can take you over and cut you into pieces, but this is not about me, Gavin. This is not my show.”

  “It’s mine.”

  Tara’s voice wavered as she stepped up beside me, but her fury was right there, buoying her, holding her head high as she stared into the fearful eyes of her abuser.

  At that moment, although vanity and ego had never been my favorite sins, I was proud of her. Proud of the way she held herself and of the way she stared into his wide gaze. Proud of the way she allowed her loathing to take her over. This was what she had dreamed about for so long. It was her moment—one to relish.

  “That is correct.” I signaled for her to join me and wordlessly, her small hand slipped into mine. “This is Tara’s party, but the bad news for you, Gavin, is this—I am the storyteller.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Tara

  My heart was racing so fast, I felt as if I might pass out, but Solomon’s grip was hard and unyielding. He wouldn’t let me falter. This is what I’d paid for. It was time to enjoy it.

  “Once upon a time…”

  I drew in a deep breath, clutching at his torso while his words swirled around me, and as my gaze lifted again, I noticed the room had changed. We were no longer in the bright, clean confines of Gavin’s world but somewhere much darker. A place which furled my anxiety, even though there was no danger for me. A shadowy, cheerless place with the heaviest atmosphere I’d ever known. I glanced up to the creature I’d conjured, looking to him for confirmation of what I already knew—this place was another dominion.

  It was Hell.

  “Oh, fuck.”

  Turning at the gasp, I found Gavin stripped, his arms bound to a wooden beam, chest high, forcing him to bend at the hips to accommodate the new position, leaving him exposed in the most base and humiliating way.

  For a moment, I was lost to the sight, disgusted by his physical form, but despite everything, pitying his plight—even though I’d wanted it, I’d commanded it. My humanity lingered, and fleetingly, I considered asking Solomon to be lenient, but no, that was never going to happen. Even if my ego could allow it, which I seriously doubted at this point, there was no way my master would relent. Instinctively, I glanced away, back to Solomon, the heat of his flesh a small comfort as the sordid vengeance I’d dreamed about prepared to play out before me.

  “What are you going to do to me?” Gavin was crying now, sobbing like a hysterical boy who’d lost his mother. “Just let me go.”

  “Oh, I do not think so. Do you, Tara?”

  The weight of Solomon’s gaze fell over me, and I didn’t have to look up to know he expected an answer.

  “No.” I breathed the word out with conviction, although I still couldn’t bring myself to look at Gavin. Not now that he seemed so vulnerable.

  This is what you wanted.

  Solomon’s tone resounded in my head, although I knew he hadn’t said the words out loud for Gavin to hear.

  Look at him. The order was soft but insistent. Stand up and look at him. Let him see how strong you have become without him. In spite of him. Let him see the beautiful, confident woman you are—let your anger show. Make him see, he didn’t destroy you, he doesn’t own you.

  Emboldened by Solomon’s words, I straightened, twisting my body to take in the sight of Gavin once more.

  He was nothing like I remembered.

  The monstrous giant who used to sneak into my bedroom at night was gone, replaced by a chubbier, older, grayer version of the man. He seemed so small, neck craning to take in my face as his feet tried to grip to the hard floor below.

  “What are we doing here, Tara?” Solomon stepped away from me, and for the first time, I noticed he was dressed in his dark cape, the same ensemble he’d worn the day he first appeared. “Tell Gavin why he’s here.”

  “Vengeance.”

  The word slipped from my lips, water from a gutter, and as it did, some of my tension eased away. It reminded me what this was about, and it wasn’t about disturbing me further or feeling uncomfortable. Yes, being around Gavin again was disconcerting, but looking at him now, I knew I could begin to lay those ghosts to rest.

  This was the man who’d exerted control over me as a child. This was the man who’d sapped my confidence and self-respect, who’d taken what was never his to have, and who’d exploited me in the most despicable ways. If he deserved any
sympathy at all, it was for the ludicrous excuse of a human being he was, not for what was about to transpire. He deserved it for each and every time he’d hurt me.

  I took a step in his direction, my gaze surveying his limbs struggling against the large ropes twisted all the way to his shoulders. There was no way he was getting out of those.

  “I’m here to show you what revenge looks like, Gavin.”

  A strangled noise escaped his mouth, and his head fell forward as though he could no longer look at me, but that was never going to be good enough.

  “Look at me.” My voice was stronger now, the old wrath ignited by the memories of the things he’d done. “Fucking look at me!”

  “I can’t,” he whimpered. “I can’t. It hurts my neck and—”

  “Let me help…”

  Solomon’s deep voice pinballed past us like thunder, and right before my eyes, Gavin’s head was forced upward like an invisible hand had yanked and was holding it there. Gavin’s eyes were as large as saucers, scarcely blinking as he absorbed the new reality.

  He had no choice.

  Just like I’d had no choice but to accept his attention as a child.

  Just like I had been forced to bear the shame of it, he was now forced to lift his head and look at me. It was hardly the same thing, but it was a start, and a rush of triumph coursed through me.

  “This is it, Gavin.”

  I lowered to my haunches, so I could register the full extent of his pitiful misery. I wanted to take it all in, so I could relive it whenever I chose—the strain in his neck and shoulders, the shock and pain flickering in his expression, his grim, odious bared body as it struggled with the confines of the bondage.

  It was the least he deserved.

  “This is the face of your victim’s revenge. This is for every time you laid a finger on me. Every word you whispered in my ear. For the way you twisted my own fucking mother against me. The way you used me—the way you used us both!”

  A surge of emotion rose, riding the back of my fury, but demonstrating as it always did, as hot tears in my eyes.

  “And don’t think I’m crying for you. These tears aren’t for you, you bastard!” I paused, wiping my eyes with the heel of my hand. “There will never be any more tears for you. These are for the girl I once was. For the woman, I could have been had it not been for you. For the life I should have had.” I shook my head, processing the myriad of consuming emotions. “For the person I could have been.”

  “Fuck you.”

  His voice was weaker, but it was the same vile disdain that came back at me, the same foreboding tone, the same entitled response. That he had taken what he was entitled to and had done nothing wrong.

  That moment—the expression on his face, the look of contempt in his eyes—that’s what sealed the deal, but I wasn’t prepared for the intensity of feeling which struck me. Lurching forward, I raised my hand and slapped his face as hard as I could. With his head held high by Solomon’s unseen strength, there was nothing he could do to prevent the blow. I watched with satisfaction as the imprint of my palm rose in bright red on his left cheek.

  “No.” I spat the word at him. “No, you never get to do that again, you sick little man. You never get to touch me, to have me. I don’t belong to you, but you, you lousy fucker, you belong to someone. You’re Solomon’s bitch.” I gestured over my shoulder toward my master. I didn’t even have to turn my head to see if he was there.

  He was.

  I could sense his presence, feel the weight of his stare as he enjoyed the scene, and I hoped he was. Solomon had done this for me. He’d gifted me this opportunity, and I’d forever be grateful.

  And there it was, in Gavin’s gaze, the thing I’d been hoping for more than anything else—a glimmer of genuine dread, anticipation of the things Solomon might do to him, and the dripping, terrible realization there was nothing he would be able to do to stop him.

  I grinned at that fear, and the feeling was good, sweet. Better than I’d hoped.

  For everyone who’d intimated vengeance was wrong, that there was no solace in enacting pain on those who’d trespassed against you, I had this message.

  They were wrong.

  There was more than solace, and whatever happened next, I was happy, content.

  Free.

  Free of the hold, Gavin wielded over me all this time. Free of his dirty hands. Free of the way he’d tainted me, of the shame I could never wash away.

  I didn’t need to see Solomon in action. I didn’t need to witness the brutality of the things he would do. I knew them, having experienced many of them first-hand, but I had no desire to revel in the acts. This wasn’t about gratuitous violence. I had seen enough in Gavin’s eyes to know I’d won. I was walking out of this with my head held high while I dreaded to think what fate awaited him.

  It was a revelation.

  Rising to my feet, I offered Solomon a smile, and suddenly, the world around shifted as though the two of us were standing in a bubble. I could still see Gavin strapped to the wooden bar and the dark brown space beyond him, but there was a transparent barrier—a filter which meant he could no longer hear the words Solomon and I exchanged.

  “You feel better now?” Solomon moved toward me, his black eyes hard as they drilled into my face. He was still the handsome devil I remembered, but something was different. He was edgier, poised, and ready to do what perhaps, he did best.

  “Yes, Master.” I welcomed him, regardless. Whatever the monster that lurked inside him, he’d always have my loyalty. Now that I’d had the chance to humble Gavin, I was safe in the knowledge Solomon would do the rest. “Yes, thank you.”

  “Good.” One large palm reached for my face, his caress surprisingly soft, considering the dark look in his eyes. “Are you done? Do you want more? Want to see more, to hear his cries?”

  I glanced down, burying my temple against his robes. “I hope you don’t think less of me, but no, Master.”

  Solomon snorted. “Why should I think less of you, little mortal? This is, as they say, your party, little one.”

  I smiled into the smooth fabric. “I like the way that sounds,” I admitted. “But I think I’ve seen enough. There has already been so much pain and suffering in my life, I just…”

  “I understand,” he replied quickly. “But to confirm, you want me to teach Gavin the appropriate lesson?”

  I drew in a shaky breath. “Will you…” I bit my lip, barely able to force the words out. “Will you do the deed yourself?”

  He laughed, a dark sound that drew a shudder from my body.

  “Not in the way you think. I have an apparatus that can violate the man since I have no will to do so myself. This incarnate form is reserved for you exclusively, little mortal.”

  He pushed me back gently, and slowly, I lifted my head to meet his gaze again.

  “Thank you. Master.”

  I was relieved to hear his explanation, and glancing back over my shoulder, I wondered how Gavin would accept his fate. Would he resign himself in the same woeful display of submission he’d put on in his condo, or would there be any flicker of pride, of the man who’d waltzed so brazenly into my life and destroyed it?

  “Tried to destroy it,” Solomon corrected me. “Your life is not over, Tara. Far from it.”

  My gaze lowered to his chest, and I imagined the dark smattering of hair that covered its muscular expanse.

  “I thought you might want to take me to the next life, Master? I am so weak and fragile compared to you.”

  “I told you.” His tone was firmer. “You are perfect as you are and shall stay human for as long as it pleases me.”

  His attention shifted to the man behind me, Gavin’s whimpers hardly audible in our protected little bubble.

  “Unlike your stepfather. His days of mortality are well and truly numbered.”

  “Where will you take him… after?”

  He smiled. “My prince, Asmodeus, has room for his flesh and bone, and once his mortal
body begins to decay, Gavin’s true servitude shall begin.” Solomon laughed, and I gripped his arm as the eerie sound vibrated around us. “He will find my prince to be a far harder taskmaster than I. Asmodeus’ sexual proclivities are legendary.”

  I nodded, understanding his meaning without wishing to dwell on it.

  “Am I allowed to be excused now, Master?”

  “Yes, little mortal.” The hand at my cheek swept into my hair, fisting it as it guided my head back gently. “I shall return you to the room we share, and there you shall await my return.”

  “What should I do while you are gone?”

  He smiled, lowering his face, so his lips brushed over mine.

  “You should rest,” he warned in a gravelly tone, which made the small hairs on my arms stand to attention. “I should tell you, living out such bloodlust tends to fuel my fire, and once I am cleaned up, I will be ravenous for you, Tara.”

  My throat dried as I tried to imagine Solomon ravenous. In the hours we’d had together, he’d been passionate and intense, but I’d always known he was holding something back—waiting.

  Waiting for the right time to claim me, and now that time approached.

  “I’ll rest, Master,” I promised in a breathy tone, reaching up on tiptoes to kiss him lightly. “I’ll be ready.”

  “Make sure you are,” he growled, and the last thing I remembered was the power of his kiss as he pressed his lips against mine.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Solomon

  Gavin was even better than I had hoped. I always enjoyed taking people apart. Some were more satisfying than others, but often, it was those who chose to wield power over others who most hit the spot. Their pride, their wills were so strong, so robust, until my fist closed around them and obliterated any thought of escape—all hope of resistance annihilated like a million shards of glass. Those had been the moments I existed for, the climax of so many hours—the pinnacle of what a demon could achieve.