by Alice Bell
Her eyelids fluttered. Her lips curved. “Yes. I love you in the worst way, Devon.”
Truer words were never spoken.
Before I could change my mind, I plunged the stake into her heart. The sound of flesh splitting, bones breaking, filled my ears.
Afterward, the world fell deathly silent.
I stared at Zadie’s ashes, not knowing what to feel, except a mix of relief and regret. I wished things could have been different between us.
A gasp broke the quiet. Dear God, had Inka resurrected herself?
But my gaze found Ruby, standing in the hall. She braced herself, leaning against the wall. In the next moment, she collapsed.
I wondered how much she had seen, if anything. She might have slipped away, already, into insanity.
I picked her up, and held her for a moment, listening to her frail heartbeat.
The nearest hospital was across the river. I carried her, traveling faster than the human eye could see.
40. Ruby
I HEARD them talking about me.
“It’s pitiful, isn’t it?” one said.
“She won’t wake up?”
“She’s been like this since they brought her in. Once they’re this far gone, they don’t come back.”
“What do you mean?” a man’s voice—caring, alarmed. “What’s the point then?”
“Well, we can’t just let her die.”
“Was it drugs?”
“Probably. Drugs and madness. They always try to self-medicate, you know.”
“She’s so young.” He sounded sad.
“Help me lift her.”
They turned me over. The prick of a needle stung the back of my knee. I wanted to cry out. But I couldn’t.
A tear slid from my eye.
Their footsteps retreated.
They closed the door.
A machine beeped. Electricity buzzed. The color red crept under my eyelids. I went down, further into my mind, away from the light. Down here, I didn’t have to struggle against the world.
But later, some orderlies came and I was pulled up and up through layers of fog. It was a long, hard journey, every time. Why did they insist on dragging me back?
I wanted to scream.
Leave me alone.
I knew where I was. I’d been here before. But I didn’t know how it had happened again. I tried so hard to stay sane. I did everything they said. I took my meds, I went to therapy.
The road to hell is paved with good intentions.
“Here, grab your end.” They lifted me up in some kind of sack. I felt myself swinging in it, suspended, until I landed with a thud.
“Shit. You almost dropped her.”
Giggle.
“Do you think she can hear us?”
“No. She’s out of it.”
They moved around, busy. It took them forever. They sprayed chemicals and emitted grunts. They slung me onto another bed. I recognized the clang of metal bars going up. A nurse came and checked my vitals, touching me softly. I felt the icy bite of a stethoscope on my chest. A machine forced liquids through my veins.
Later, I tried to move my fingers. My eyelids fluttered. If only I could get up and unplug myself. I would slither away, back to my apartment, where I’d lock the door.
I yearned for my own bed.
I thought of my silk sheets and warm comforter.
All I had to do was get there. And curl up inside the darkness.
* * *
I felt his presence, when he came to me. He turned off the lights. And the machines.
I felt the needle slide out of my arm.
He wrapped me in something warm and carried me out of the hospital. I smelled new mown grass. And roses. I heard the sound of his footsteps, his breath. I saw bright colors, like fireworks, behind my closed lids.
His grip on me tightened. Suddenly, the world went quiet. Cold air rushed under the blanket.
I felt myself spinning through the universe, and the stars, surrounded by light-filled beings. The most beautiful humming came from the beating of their wings.
I thought it was finally happening, what I had so often dreamed—I was dying.
But I wasn’t dead.
I felt the softness of my own silk sheets beneath my skin. I knew the scent of them, like lavender, and always always the faintest tinge of Shalimar; my mother’s ghost.
His hands were on my body, everywhere, his mouth on my neck, my breasts … my lips. The ache inside me turned to fire and spread, licking across my flesh.
My body arched. I gasped.
My eyes flew open.
41. Devon
WHEN SHE opened her eyes, she found me gazing down on her. “Ruby?”
“Devon?” her voice was scratchy, unused.
I’d felt her coming back from wherever she’d gone. Her skin warmed, her breathing became normal, and yet, I wasn’t sure what to expect. Half of me was afraid she would be different.
“You remember me,” I said.
Her pulse whispered in my veins. “I dreamed of you.”
We were laying in her bed, naked. I’d stripped off her hospital gown, and my own clothes, to get as close to her as possible.
She rolled on her side. Her eyes were bright. “Am I still dreaming?”
“No …”
“You’re actually here?” she said.
“Yes.”
“And you’re real.”
“I’m real, Ruby.”
She traced the outline of my lips with her finger. “The first time I saw you, I thought you looked like a dark angel.”
“Trust me, I’m no angel.”
“I trust you,” she said, like it was the answer to a question. “I’m glad you’re back.”
“So am I, Ruby. So am I.”
“Are you leaving again? Soon?”
“Not if you don’t want me to.”
Her tongue came out to wet her lip. “Everyone leaves. Sooner or later.”
“I’ll stay as long as you want.”
Her fine brows knitted together. Freckles stood out on her pale skin. “As long as I want?”
“Yes.”
“That might be a very long time,” her tone was grave, as if she were warning me.
“I have nothing but time.”
She searched my face. “I—” she dropped her gaze.
“What, Ruby?”
“Nothing,” she blushed.
“Tell me,” I felt the old demon stirring inside me. I couldn’t quash him completely. Besides, he wasn’t all bad. He had known Ruby’s worth as soon as he laid eyes on her.
“It seems silly but I—I love you, Devon.”
“Love is never silly.”
She giggled. “But I don’t even know your last name.”
“I love you too.”
Her breath caught. She blinked.
“Did you hear me?”
“You do?”
“Oh, Ruby,” I grabbed her and pulled her down on top of me. “Let’s not talk anymore …”
A Note from the Author
Thank you for reading Night of the Demon. If you enjoyed it, I would be eternally grateful if you left a review. Honest reviews help readers find books.
If you would like to be informed about giveaways and new releases, please visit my Amazon Author Page or my Website.
Connect
Twitter
Google+
About the Author
Alice Bell was born three minutes before midnight on January 19th in northern California. She's a triple Capricorn, destined to be dark. After graduating high school and working a series of odd jobs, including theft counseling, she decided to go to college to see if she could earn a degree by reading, which resulted in a BA in English (though not an end to odd jobs). She loves animals and nature and considers herself a romantic of the Wuthering Heights variety. Her greatest aspiration as a writer is to show beauty in dark places.
f the Demon: Paranormal Romance (Devon Slaughter Book 2)