Of Witches and Warlocks: The Demon Kiss

by Lacey Weatherford

  I chewed it slowly, making a face of delight, as if it were the greatest thing I had ever tasted in the world. When I finished swallowing, I purposely licked every one of my fingers, just to be annoying to his perfect set of manners.

  He laughed at me before reaching over to pick up a fork, sticking it into another piece of meat, and then holding it over to me.

  I eyed him for a second, through narrow eyes, before I decided to trust him and take it from him. I was starving.

  “Eat up,” he said, reaching over to pat me on the knee with his hand, in a familiar gesture.

  I yanked my leg away from him, cringing at his touch, and he laughed as he stood to walk out of the room.

  “When you’re finished with your dinner, Portia, you may want to get cleaned up. Just set your tray outside the door, and I’ll see to it that you aren’t disturbed for the rest of the evening, that is unless you might want to come spend the evening with me,” he added over his shoulder as he paused at the door.

  “Not likely,” I said rudely, over a mouthful of food, not even taking my gaze away from the plate.

  “Suit yourself,” he said with a shrug. “I should warn you though, I’ll be having a few … guests … over for dinner.”

  I didn’t miss the hidden meaning of his words.

  “Get out of my room, you sick pig,” I said, trying to annoy him and not think at all about his little dinner soirée.

  He smiled at me with an almost charming smile.

  “As you wish, my dear.” He bowed curtly and left the room, closing the door behind him.

  “Freaking psycho,” I muttered to myself under my breath after he was gone, feeling relieved at his absence.

  I continued eating until I had polished off every crumb of food that was available, before lifting the tray and taking it to the door. I only opened it a crack, not wanting to witness any gross or disgusting thing which might be going on outside it. I slid the tray straight out the opening, not even risking a glance to the space beyond, and hurriedly closed the door behind it.

  I locked it afterward and added my own magical reinforcement to the lock, just as some added protection. If I had to be a prisoner, I was going to reinforce my own prison space to keep unwanted people out of it. I didn’t want anyone being able to sneak up on me while I was unaware.

  Wandering back into the large closet, I began rummaging through all the clothing there, trying to find a decent pair of pajamas to wear that didn’t look like something straight out of a lingerie shop.

  After digging through half the closet, I finally had to settle on a short, silky, white nightdress which had spaghetti straps and was slit up to my hips. It was the most modest thing I could find. Thankfully it had a matching robe to go with it, even though it was short, too.

  I rummaged through the drawers then, holding up the lacy under things that I found in there with a questioning look. I wasn’t finding anything that looked too appealing, let alone comfortable. Suddenly I found myself wishing for a pair of my boxer shorts and one of Vance’s t-shirts. I ended up just grabbing something and heading into the bathroom.

  After magically reinforcing this door also, I turned to the large bathtub and began to fill it. I poured an obscenely excessive amount of the sweet smelling bubble bath into the water, watching it foam up, before undressing and sliding into the deliciously hot water.

  I flipped the jets on and closed my eyes. I knew the tub was overflowing with bubbles onto the floor, but I didn’t care. Just because I was being forced to be a “guest” here didn’t mean I was going to be an easy one. Maybe I would flood the room beneath me, and someone would have to call maintenance up here. I bet that would upset him, I thought with a chuckle.

  Tired of thinking about my captor, I tried to calm my racing thoughts and center my feelings onto Vance.

  “Vance,” I whispered into the air, my chest tightening just at the thought of him. “Where are you?”

  There was no reply, just as I had expected, and I sighed as I continued speaking to him anyway.

  “I’m okay. He hasn’t hurt me,” I said to him, even though I knew he couldn’t hear me. “I love you,” I added after a moment.

  I let the dam I had been holding in break then, and the tears streamed freely down my face.

  He was probably frantic with worry right now. I knew exactly what he was experiencing, as I had felt it all before when he had gone missing after the explosion. I hated being the reason that he was in pain.

  Taking a deep breath, I tried to clear my head. I needed to think rationally and come up with some type of plan instead of sitting here like a crying silly ninny.

  I decided I was going to need to venture out at some point and survey the rest of the penthouse. In order to devise a good game plan, I was going to need to know what the playing field looked like and what resources were available to me.

  Tomorrow would probably be the best day for that, I decided, as I had absolutely no desire to run into Damien’s dinner party this evening.

  After soaking for over an hour and making sure I was completely pruned beyond recognition, I climbed out of the tub and got dressed. I was surprised to find the silky clothing I had chosen to be very comfortable, as it was made from very high quality material.

  How ironic was it that the nightgown from my captor was probably more expensive than my entire wardrobe at home? I thought. Life could certainly be funny that way.

  I wandered back into the bedroom, leaving my massive mess of water and bubbles all over the floor in the bathroom, and plopped into one of the chairs in front of the fireplace. I picked up the remote on the side table and pushed the button to make the flames in the grate jump to life. I just sat in the dark, watching the fire burn as I ran one hand through my damp tangled hair.

  My thoughts, of course, drifted back to Vance once again, and I wondered where he was and what he was doing.

  Reaching up to finger the locket that was hanging next to the amulet at my neck, I gently opened the silver heart and looked at the tiny remnants of his hair that lay inside it.

  I remembered the day I had cut these trimmings from Vance’s thick locks. We had done it in a desperate attempt to ease some of the physical discomfort we felt when we were separated from each other, so we could always have part of each other with us at all times.

  I reached into the locket, placing the tip of my finger against the soft fibers. I couldn’t believe how good it felt just to touch a piece of him.

  After a few minutes, I gently closed it again, afraid of losing the only physical thing I had of him right now.

  Leaving the fireplace burning, I went over to the bed, removing some of the many pillows so I could actually reach the top of the quilt. I pulled it back and crawled under the covers.

  I closed my eyes then and let sleep claim me.

  Chapter 22

  I allowed myself to lie in bed for hours after the normal time had passed for me to get up. I didn’t see any reason to rush into this new day, and I certainly did not want to spend any of my time visiting with Damien.

  Finally, however, I decided I couldn’t stay there for another moment. My stomach was growling viciously at me, and I was beginning to feel sick from lack of food.

  Glancing over at the door, I realized that apparently my little magical lock had held, since no tray of breakfast had arrived from Darcy this morning. Of course, the downside to my little plan had left me very hungry now.

  I climbed out of the bed, walked over to remove my reinforcement spell from the door, and opened it.

  Since I didn’t really give a care to what anyone thought here, I strode out into the hallway, in my nightgown, with my messy hair tangled about me, to have a look around the place.

  My eyes were not prepared for what awaited me, and I had to purposely stop my chin from dropping in amazement at the sight they beheld.

  I was standing in the second story of an opulently designed penthouse. A large rotunda was over my head, made entirely of stained glass,
which accented the giant wood and wrought iron curving staircase that twisted down to the floor beneath.

  The flooring was made entirely of marble, and the walls were covered in thick moldings and large paintings, depicting many scenes of magic and mayhem throughout several periods of time. A gigantic crystal chandelier hung from the center of the ceiling and down into the circle of the winding staircase.

  I noticed another set of carved double doors just down the curved hall from mine and wondered if it led to Damien’s room. I shivered at the thought of him sleeping so close to my quarters, but I certainly wasn’t going to go exploring there to find out if I was correct.

  Turning away, I walked across the hallway and placed a hand on the smooth, thick railing. Quietly, I tiptoed down to the first floor, my bare feet not making a sound against the cool stone as I moved along.

  The bottom of the staircase revealed a plush sitting room to my right, which was decorated with many antiques, and a large dining room which was adjacent, with a table that could probably seat twenty, to my left.

  I turned in the direction of the dining room, assuming that the door beyond it must lead to the kitchen. I was not disappointed.

  I entered the room through a swinging door and found myself in an immaculate kitchen that was fully equipped with the latest appliances and luxuries. Any chef would have truly been proud to work in this space.

  It was then I noticed Damien was sitting at a small table over in the kitchen nook, with a newspaper in his hands, and a glass filled with blood on the surface in front of him.

  He looked up casually as I entered.

  “Ah! You finally decided to grace us with your presence this morning. How delightful!” he said, as he eyed my bedraggled appearance, shaking out a wrinkle in the paper as he spoke.

  I pretended he didn’t exist as I walked over to the refrigerator and opened it, moving past without looking at him.

  “I have good news,” he continued, ignoring my attempt at rudeness. “Vance left Rocky Point this morning and is on his way back to Sedona.”

  This did perk my interest, but I didn’t want to rise to his bait, so I kept my mouth shut, even though it was difficult.

  Damien folded the paper and placed it back on the table in front of him, while he continued to watch me.

  I kept looking through the fridge, trying not to notice the heat of his stare upon my back.

  “Yes, my little spies say he’s quite frantic right now,” he went on. “Apparently, there’s been a lot of arguing between him and your father over how to properly handle the situation.”

  I had to work hard not to show any emotions now, and I actually bit the side of my mouth a little, trying to keep myself from speaking out.

  Locating a pitcher with orange juice in it, I pulled it out and set it on the granite island. Then I walked over to the cupboards and began searching for a glass to pour it into.

  “Vance would have made a good boy scout,” Damien continued, and I could feel him looking at me still, though I didn’t return his gaze. “He’s following the bread crumb trail quite nicely I think.”

  I finished pouring the juice into the glass and set the pitcher back on the counter. I walked right up to Damien, picking an apple out of the fruit bowl in front of him, before turning to walk out of the room.

  My knees were shaking by the time I made it through the swinging door, and I paused for a moment to lean up against the wall for support, breathing a little heavily since I had been holding my breath unknowingly.

  My emotions raced through me.

  Vance was on his way, a little bit closer to me. He was coming. Somehow he would find me. I was both thrilled and terrified all in the same moment.

  Pushing away from the wall, I quickly walked back up the stairs to return to my room. I shut and sealed the door behind me, before walking back over to the enormous bed.

  I placed the juice and the apple on the nightstand, feeling unable to eat or drink at this moment, due to the sudden churning in my stomach. I climbed back into the bed, pulled the covers up to my chin, and began to sob.

  Conflicting thoughts rushed through my head. I was so torn. I wanted him to come for me, and I wanted him to run as far away as he could possibly get, never looking back.

  “It’s a tricky little situation, isn’t it, Portia?” Damien’s voice came from the direction of the doorway.

  I jumped and turned toward the sound, to see him leaning casually against the frame, the door wide open next to him.

  “How did you …?” I trailed off in surprise.

  “You need to remember this is my house,” he said as he pushed away from the wall and came to sit next to me on the edge of the bed. “Everything in here responds first to my powers, not yours. I’m sorry if it bothers you.” he said, apologetically, as he reached a hand out and placed it gently on my knee, squeezing it slightly as if he were trying to comfort me.

  This time I shoved his hand off me and scooted away from him, up against the headboard.

  “Don’t touch me!” I glared at him, revolted by his very touch.

  “And why not?” he asked. The light of humor, and something much darker, flashed in his eyes. “Where do you think the very flesh you crave to touch so much came from? If it weren’t for me, your precious love wouldn’t even exist.”

  “He’s nothing like you,” I spat back at him, feeling my insides begin to shake uncontrollably.

  “Au contraire, he’s everything like me, which is something I intend on proving to you when the time comes,” he stated flatly.

  “Why do you want him so badly?” I asked, staring straight at him, locking my gaze against his. “Aren’t your precious minions enough for you? Why must you take him, too?”

  He looked at me hard for a moment, as if considering whether or not to answer me, before he spoke again.

  “Because it isn’t right for the son to be more powerful than the father,” he replied, as he stood and paced out into the floor.

  “What are you talking about?” I asked, exasperated. “You’ve sucked the powers out of how many witches? What could Vance possibly have that you don’t, besides some common sense, that is?” I added, hoping he would be offended by my remarks.

  He laughed an irritated laugh then.

  “He doesn’t even know his own power; it’s wasted on him,” he replied, with a slight sneer.

  “Sorry, I’m not following,” I said, confused.

  “You really want to know?” he said turning to look at me. “Then I’ll tell you. He replenishes!”

  I looked at him with a blank stare; not comprehending what it was that he was trying to tell me.

  “His magic is unstoppable,” he continued. “I could perform an exchange on him a thousand times, and his powers would regenerate themselves every single time. He has an endless supply of magic that will never run out.”

  I felt sick as I wondered if this were really true.

  “How could you possibly know that for sure?” I asked. “There’s been no way for you to even test your theory.”

  “When he was a child, I used to drink from him constantly,” Damien stated. “He never became weak or ever lost any of the control over his powers. I just assumed it was the same with all witches and warlocks. But then I started drinking from others, and it wasn’t the same. Their blood was thinner, plainer. I had to drink a gallon from someone else to get even remotely close to the power that half a pint of Vance’s blood generated. I knew then he was something special, but before I could do any testing on him, Krista ran with him. I began searching everywhere for him, desperately wanting to get him back. In all my travels the world over, I’ve never met one magical creature who had even a quarter of Vance’s power.”

  It all made sense to me then.

  “You want to turn him into a demon, to serve you and keep replenishing all your powers, don’t you?” I asked.

  He shrugged.

  “That’s part of my plan,” he said with a small smile. “All you really
need to know is that he’ll become one of the most magnificent warlocks the world has ever known, and he’ll be second only to me. I can teach him everything I know, and together we could literally rule the world with an unspeakable, not to mention unstoppable, power.”

  I covered my mouth with my hand, feeling like I was going to vomit at the idea. Then another frightening thought occurred to me.

  “Why are you telling me all this?” I asked as I slowly removed my hand from my face, watching him carefully.

  “Because you’re the brilliant pawn in all this.” He smiled as he stalked back toward me. “You’re the only thing Vance really wants in this world, and I’ll be the one to give it to him.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked, tasting the fear in the back of my throat as I swallowed hard.

  “It’s simple really,” he replied, sitting back on the bed next to me. “If he agrees to let me finish his conversion, then you get to live; if not, he loses you forever, and I’ll turn him anyway.”

  “He’ll never agree to it,” I said shaking my head as my eyes began to water, knowing in my heart that Vance would indeed do whatever he felt he had to do in order to protect me.

  “Yes, he will,” Damien said, looking very sure of himself as he leaned in closer to my face. “Because if he refuses, I’ll be the one who takes you away from him, in every way he can imagine.”

  He grabbed me by both arms then and pulled me to him hard as his lips smashed into my face, kissing me full on the mouth.

  I fought against him ineffectively, as he had me pinned tight in between the headboard and his body. The harder I struggled against him, the harder he pushed against me, and I sensed that he seemed to be enjoying it.

  I gagged, feeling the bile rise up in the back of my throat as I felt him thrust his tongue in my mouth. I used the only weapon I had, my teeth, and bit him as hard as I could.

  He jerked away from me with a small yelp, and I saw that I had injured him. A trickle of blood welled up in his mouth and ran down his lower lip. He lifted his finger to touch the spot gently, pulling his hand away as he examined it, before pulling out a handkerchief and dabbing the blood away.