The Demon's Possession

by Kiersten Fay

  Marik stopped what he was doing to glance up at Sebastian. “Hey, Captain. What's up? I just put everything away, but if you're hungry—”

  “No, I came to give you some good news.”

  Marik set down his cloth and eyed him warily. “Yeah?”

  “You know how you've been asking for an assistant?”

  “Not really.” He scowled.

  Sebastian almost laughed at his immediate mistrust. It reminded him a little of Analia. “Well, I have one for you. I'll be bringing her over in the morning.”

  As expected, Marik's face grew dark. “The stowaway?” he barked. Disappointment saturated his tone. “Come on, Bastian. I don't have time to watch over some female. Does she even know her way around a galley? Don't answer that, of course she doesn't. You're just looking to pawn her off on someone and you don't want her snooping around the ship. Have Sonya take care of her.” Marik's horns grew molten until they appeared to glow.

  “Sonya will help watch Analia, but I don't want her working in the pub.”

  Marik's brows drew together. “Why not?”

  Ignoring his questions, Sebastian turned to leave. “I'm bringing her here in the morning.” As he left the salon, he heard the crash of Marik's obvious displeasure.

  Sebastian headed for his room, ready to put an end to this day. His shaft strained painfully against his pants from his earlier encounter with Analia. He thought it would have gone down by now, but every moment alone brought renewed images of Analia's soft body, her curves against his palm.

  He stripped off his clothing and entered the shower. Needing relief, Sebastian wrapped his hand around his length. With every stroke, he imagined Analia in place of his hand, gripping him tight with her hand, her soft warm core, her mouth. He groaned.

  Her scent still enveloped him, encouraging the vision of her. He remembered her soft moan in his ear as he had kissed her tender neck. With astounding force, his orgasm exploded from him. He leaned one arm against the wall as warm water washed over him and he marveled at the strength of his release.

  Finishing his shower, he wondered what she was doing now. The thought that she was, most likely at this moment, wearing one of his shirts to bed pleased him more than it should have. Then his wicked mind brought forth the image of her without a shirt at all, naked and writhing beneath him.

  He growled at himself when, once again, his shaft began to stir.

  * * *

  ——

  * * *

  In the morning, Sebastian stopped by the galley to grab some pastries, then headed to the bar to pick up the clothes that Sonya had promised. After a quick greeting, she went to her back office to fetch them.

  Sebastian almost dropped the bag of pastries as soon as he saw what she offered. Black, tight, and short. She laid them all out in a small scattered pile for him to choose from. Imagining Analia in any of them had him growing stiff before he could control himself. There was no way he could put her in these clothes! He looked at Sonya with bewilderment.

  “Don't give me that look,” she scolded. “You asked me for clothes. You know how I dress.”

  Yes, but he'd never really noticed before. She was his sister for the love of all the gods, not a wee blond with smooth legs that he wanted wrapped around him. Shifting uncomfortably, he really needed to stop imagining her like that.

  “This is what you have to choose from for now. I haven't had a chance to check with the other ladies on board.”

  Rummaging dejectedly through the pile, he chose the longest skirt, a shirt that didn't dip too low in the front, and a pair of the flattest shoes in the bunch. Then Sonya revealed another pile…

  Undergarments.

  Sebastian ran his hand over his face. This time he didn't have to choose, thank the gods, Sonya just thrust them at him.

  “Here,” she said with a pout. “Brand new, I just bought them before the lock-in.”

  Dear gods, they were silky and revealing and…why did there need to be pictures of flowers on the fronts? He tried not to look, stuffing everything into a tight ball of fabric.

  Mustering as much sincerity as possible, he thanked Sonya and headed to Analia's room.

  When he entered the room, he was appalled at what he was seeing.

  Why the hell was she sleeping on the couch?

  “What do you think you are doing?” he yelled, louder than he meant to. Her body jerked. Slowly, she peeked one eye open. He instantly regretted his inflection, but still he demanded in the same tone, “Why are you on the couch?” She didn't answer, instead, drowsily glanced around the room with tired confusion. “Well?”

  “I…I don't know what you mean. I thought you wanted me to sleep.”

  “Yes. Why aren't you sleeping in the bed?”

  She shrugged and looked to the ground. After a while, she answered in shaky voice. “I don't sleep well in a regular bed…it gives me nightmares.”

  Absurd, thought Sebastian. Nightmares are nightmares. You don't get them from an object. A notion pricked at him, but he ignored it, noting that she looked as though she hadn't slept at all. If she had taken the bed, she would have been more comfortable and therefore slept better, he reasoned. He told her this and ordered her to use the bed from now on. The chit merely shrugged in response.

  She wasn't part of his crew and probably felt she had no reason to follow his orders. He would come back tomorrow to make sure she did.

  Letting it go for now, he handed her a pastry. She sat up and reached out for it allowing the blanket to fall to her waist, revealing that she was wearing the shirt he gave her last night.

  His shirt.

  Sniffing the pastry first, Analia nibbled a corner. Her eyes lit up when the flavor hit her, and she sank her teeth in, closing her eyes she slowly chewed, obviously savoring the taste. Sebastian watched her with fascination. He had never seen someone eat with such euphoria.

  Still a bit riled, and curious of everything about her, he grated, “Why do you act as though you've never had a pasty? Or seen a child? Or witnessed the stars?”

  Instantly she stopped chewing and swallowed hard, eyes looking everywhere but at him as though the answer were somewhere in the room. She was calculating, choosing her words. She didn't want him to know where she came from. Did the answer have something to do with that?

  “There were never any children…where I was.” She paused. “Or pastries.”

  “Or windows?” He laughed without amusement. “The only places my ship has visited in the past few months are space cities or other ships. So it's an easy assumption that you come from space. You have to have seen the stars.”

  Another moment of silence, then in a small voice she replied, “I have seen the stars before.” Again, she shifted her eyes, and he realized she wasn't going to elaborate.

  It irked him that he wanted to know more. He dropped the clothing in her lap and said, “We leave in five minutes, whether you are dressed or not.” At that, she jumped from the couch and dashed into the bathroom, to change into the clothes that Sebastian was dreading seeing her in. He sat on the couch to wait, feeling for every lump in the old cushions.

  Just as he feared, when she emerged, his body responded, this time worse than before. However, he was able to control himself, but just barely. He shifted his features to the arrogant disposition he used when dealing with his mercenary clients—gruff males who have killed ruthlessly and without remorse. If he could handle bloodthirsty killers, surely he could handle this wee creature.

  The too short skirt was black with sheer purple ruffles. It caressed her thighs, and swished slightly as she moved. The deep purple V-neck tank was too tight and curved around her breasts and flat stomach. Her blond curls spilled over her bare shoulders. His mouth watered at the sight. The chit was blushing, as though she knew what this was doing to him.

  “Well, how does it fit?” He was hoping she would say she hated the clothes, so he could give her a reprieve for the day, until he could find more suitable garments.

&nb
sp; But she gave him a sweetly shy smile, making her look even more irresistible. “I love them. I've never worn anything so…” She fought for words. “They're wonderful. Thank you.”

  Damn. Now he couldn't take them away.

  “I will take really great care of them for when I give them back.”

  For some reason, that bothered him. They were hers to keep if the clothes made her happy. Sonya wouldn't mind, and he'd pay her back anyway.

  Before he could say anything of the kind, she reached for the rest of her pastry, bending slightly at the hips as she ate to keep from messing the clothes, giving him a perfect view of her plump cleavage. The innocent action affected him and he had to shift his pants to sit more comfortably.

  Again she chewed with that same euphoric expression, making him obsess once more over all the things he didn't know about her. She swallowed and licked her soft lips, leaving them glossy and begging for his. Did she know she was driving him mad?

  He was on the verge of losing it again. He stood and turned away from her. “Follow me then. I'll show you around the ship.”

  * * *

  Analia practically bounced with giddiness as Sebastian showed her around. There were so many things to see. Brilliant colors decorated the walls, unlike the grey, grey, and more grey that made up the Hell Ship. People smiled as they passed. Children played in the halls. This was a place teaming with so much vibrancy and liveliness she could almost taste it in the very air around her. Vibrations of energy seemed to flow throughout the ship and into her. She wanted to touch and see everything.

  There was so much she had never experienced before, and Sebastian was unwittingly proving that to her. He didn't know how naive she was, and she wanted to keep it that way. But she suspected, by her blatant reactions to everything, that he was beginning to see through her.

  He showed her a room where, he explained, people would gather for physical exertion or to spar. It was large, as all the rooms were, and filled with extravagant equipment. A variety of strange looking weapons lined the walls. He explained that they were for practice only.

  Walking her through the room, he pointed out each piece of equipment, showing her what they do and how to use them if she wanted to. He didn't offer the same for the weapons.

  Close by was another room with a large vessel lowered into the floor and filled to the brim with water. He called it a swimming pool. She couldn't imagine what it was used for. When she inquired, he said he would show her later. Then, with a strange expression, he shook his head. The action confused her, but then, everything he did confused her.

  They continued to a room, smaller than the first, with many seats facing a large screen, apparently another gathering spot for entertainment purposes.

  In the next room, she spotted Sonya who genuinely seemed glad to see her. Waving and rushing toward them, she circled Analia twice. “Very nice,” she said. Then her features turned somber. “Unfair, they look better on you than they did on me.”

  Analia realized with a start that she was talking about the clothing. Quickly apologizing, she vowed to take them off if Sonya wanted them back.

  Sonya laughed and looked around the room at some of the other people. Sebastian growled, doing the same. Had she said something wrong?

  “You'll be keeping your clothes on,” Sebastian said, pulling her from the room. She tried to thank Sonya before they were out of hearing distance.

  Sebastian had a scowl on his face again, and they walked in silence for a moment. From the corner of her eye, Analia studied him with curiosity. Besides his scowl and his fists being clenched, there were no other signs of his annoyance. He walked with an air of confidence, and he leaked a sense of danger. The cut of his muscles promised pain to anyone who dare challenge him.

  He was a strong male.

  Being around him titillated her, even though she knew it was wrong to allow herself to feel that way. Sooner or later, he would prove to be much the same as Darius. But for now, she was surprised to find that she was enjoying herself with him.

  Her good feeling lasted until he turned to her, his gaze studying and disapproving. He looked at her as though she were something to be squashed. His disdain—startling and unexpected—shocked her to a standstill.

  The night before, he had been so tender and almost even pleasurable. This new attitude was frightening. She was right in thinking she should fear him.

  He continued walking ahead of her. It took her a moment to snap back to herself and follow him, though her happiness was diminished.

  “What was that place?” she asked, then clarified, “Where Sonya had been.”

  Sebastian had pulled her out of there so fast he hadn't even explained where they were. People had been scattered among many tables and there was a wall filled with bottles of liquid. Some had been clear, some brightly colored, and some different shades of brown.

  “That was Sonya's pub,” Sebastian replied. “She serves alcohol to the crew when they're not on duty.”

  “Alcohol?”

  Stopping suddenly, he looked at her, bewilderment coated his features. “You don't know what alcohol is?”

  “Should I?”

  Shaking his head, he replied, “It's a drink. It affects different races in different ways, but mostly it's used as a relaxant.” He started walking again, and Analia followed.

  She stopped when something in an open room caught her attention. Her eyes grew wide, and she etched toward the door. A decadent scent filled her nose, and she inhaled deeply for more of it. She had a memory of the things in this room, fuzzy, but there, in the back of her mind. The energy of it slammed into her.

  Pure life.

  Sebastian paused and walked a few paces back to where she was standing.

  “This is our plant nursery,” Sebastian offered. “You are not allowed in here. These plants are priceless. If you disrupt anything in this room, you might just spend the rest of your life working off the cost.”

  Analia sucked in a breath and stepped away. The plants reminded her of a time before her slavery. She tried to recall something specific, but couldn't.

  Sebastian walked on, and Analia reluctantly fell in step beside him.

  Chapter 6

  Marik was in no mood for babysitting detail and resented that he was saddled with the job of it. For fifty years he occupied this galley. It was his and his alone. He'd be damned if he let some chit carouse around, distracting him from his duty.

  The galley was clean and organized—organized for Marik, anyway. He knew where everything was and knew how to use it. The bastards on this ship ate like kings because of his culinary skills. Creating new dishes and new flavors gave him absolute pleasure. The only pleasure in life he had left.

  Since his time as a slave, he’d derived enjoyment from nothing else. He kept to himself. He rarely watched movies, or played video games with the crew in the entertainment room. Sometimes he would spar with Calic and Sebastian, but not for amusement as they did, self-indulging themselves with the adrenaline of the challenge. Marik sparred only to keep up his reflexes and strength. He vowed long ago that he would never again be caught weak and unprepared.

  The Demon’s Punchbowl was amusing sometimes, but mostly he would sit alone and drink himself into oblivion. In the space cities, he would take a woman, but rarely for his own pleasure, and the liaisons were always short and to the point. At least from what he can remember of them. Demons needed sex as others needed food. Otherwise a rage would build up inside them.

  For Sebastian—he owed the man his life and his freedom—he would accept his task to watch over the stowaway, with only minimal grumbling. He'd have the girl do some trivial job to keep her occupied and out of his way. He always hated sweeping and wiping the counters. Grinning to himself, he thought of other little tasks he hated doing, like washing dishes.

  Maybe this wouldn't be so terrible.

  Just then, Sebastian entered, looking choleric. A petite blond female followed. Her eyes, thick with dark lashes, wer
e downcast. She looked timid and fragile. No bigger than Sonya.

  Although Sonya was small, the chit could cut a demon twice his size. She was a scrappy fighter. But this female, now standing before him, looked as though she could be knocked over by a light breeze.

  Right away, he noted her beauty. Slender body—too thin for his taste—and perfect features. Small upturned nose, high cheekbones, feminine jaw. The kind of features a man went to war for. The kind of features that, as a slave, he would be forced to kneel before and call master. Grating his teeth, Marik shook the thought from his mind and decided to start the show.

  “Is this her then?” Marik said in an intentionally harsh voice. Both she and Sebastian looked up at him. Marik kept his attention on the chit. “What is your name, girl?”

  “Analia,” she answered in a small voice. Unlike her, his masters voices were always booming and dripping with condescension.

  “What do you know of cooking for large groups of people, Analia?” He sneered. Sebastian shot him a warning look. Marik easily ignored him. He would decipher her character here and now.

  “I know nothing of cooking for anyone.”

  “Have you ever worked in a galley?”

  “No.”

  “Have you not washed a dish in a sink?”

  She appeared uncomfortable. “No, never.”

  Marik couldn't believe it, but then, there were those aristocrat types who never even had to wash their own asses. She had the look, but not the demeanor.

  He continued his questioning. “Have you mopped a floor? Washed a counter? Served another?” She looked as though she were thinking over her answer carefully. Good, it suggested she wasn't completely unintelligent.

  She glanced around the room considering. “I don't think I have done anything that you might require prior experience or knowledge of. But I promise I will learn quickly and I will work hard without complaint. I've learned never to complain.”