Devour (Hellish Book 2)

by Charity Parkerson

  “Was it impersonal, Jonathan?” Niall’s voice held a thick brogue he’d never heard the man use before as he spoke against the shell of Jonathan’s ear. Without giving Jonathan time to answer, he dissipated.

  Jonathan blinked. His skin chilled, leaving him feeling lost. He balled his hands into fists, trying to control the shaking. A low whistle filled the air, bringing Jonathan’s head around to the door. Dougal stood with his shoulder leaned into the frame. The blond beauty of the bunch, as Jonathan had come to think of him, looked sexy as sin with the flush of arousal riding high on his cheeks.

  “Dear goddess. That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.” Dougal adjusted the front of his jeans, lending truth to his words.

  To hide his blush, Jonathan turned his back on the man and knocked the spoon into the sink. With Niall no longer there, clouding his thoughts, the guilt set in. It could’ve easily been Cin witnessing him humping Niall in his clothes.

  “You should go after him before he does something stupid.”

  Jonathan’s insides twisted into knots at Dougal’s words. “It’s not my place.”

  Dougal snorted. “You have a ridiculous cut and dry outlook on life. Niall always goes to work on his sword creations when he’s upset. You should go too.”

  A bitter smile twisted Jonathan’s lips. “He doesn’t want me coming after him.”

  “I’m sure that’s not true. Nothing will ever get worked out if you don’t talk to each other about it.”

  “I can hear his thoughts. He’s begging me to leave him alone.” Jonathan swallowed past the pain and bitterness of the confession. “The least I can do is honor his wishes.” Because he couldn’t deal with life anymore today, Jonathan pushed past Dougal and headed for the bedroom. He would go back to bed. It wasn’t like anyone needed him for anything anymore anyhow. No one would miss him.

  “Where is everyone?” Cin asked as he washed the demon blood from his hands. He’d been interrogating the spawn for close to eight hours. Now angry-looking burn marks were left behind from the demon’s acidic blood. The water turned red as it carried away the mixture down the drain. The wounds healed before Cin could dry his hands.

  Faolan looked up from his book at the question. “Dougal left for town earlier. Niall is sulking with his knives and Jonathan went back to bed about an hour ago.”

  Worry had Cin’s eyebrows drawing together. “Is he okay?”

  Faolan shrugged. “Dougal says Jonathan gave Niall blood earlier. Maybe it’s still too soon for him to be offering his vein? It’s been a long time since I’ve been around a new turn, so I don’t recall how long it takes for them to be one hundred percent.”

  Cin took a deep breath, calming himself. This wasn’t about the turn. Jonathan had been healed from that since Niall had been giving him blood on the regular. This was depression, and Cin didn’t know what to do. He didn’t realize he’d spoken the confession aloud until Faolan gave his two cents on the matter.

  “You should make him talk to Niall. If he won’t, you should send him in to interrogate the spawn. Hell, he can’t do any worse than we have. Our methods are getting us nowhere.”

  He was right. For a month now, they’d taken turns torturing the young demon to no avail. The spawn may’ve been young in years, but he was as solid and unbending as an elder demon. Still, Cin didn’t want to expose Jonathan to this side of their life.

  “Jonathan is a genius. He’s not cut out for the ugliness we face.”

  Faolan snorted. “In case you haven’t noticed, that boy is stronger than we are. I’m not sure if it’s the Seer blood in his veins or what, but he’s freaky advanced for a new turn.”

  Cin couldn’t deny Faolan’s claim. “I’ll think about it.”

  He started down the hall. Faolan called after him. “You’d better think quick, because shit’s falling apart around here.”

  Since he couldn’t deny it, Cin chose to ignore Faolan and concentrate on Jonathan instead. He opened their bedroom door slowly, hoping not to wake Jonathan. With their window blacked out to keep out the sun, a silent darkness met him. Cin’s eyes adjusted to the dark. His senses took over, making every detail of the room stand out as if the sun shone brightly inside the room. A pillow covered Jonathan’s head. He was on his stomach. Even after probing at his thoughts, Cin couldn’t tell if Jonathan was asleep or tuning out the world.

  He set one knee on the bed and paused. Jonathan didn’t budge. Cin crawled higher up the mattress while straddling the man’s ass. After bracing himself on his palms, Cin leaned in and touched his lips to the back of Jonathan’s neck. A pant so low it would’ve been undetectable to a human’s ears escaped Jonathan. Since the man wore nothing more than boxer briefs and Cin needed skin on skin, he pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it aside before going back for more.

  As he looked on, Jonathan grasped at the sheets. Cin traced the bumps of Jonathan’s spine with his tongue. “Cin.”

  Cin nearly broke at the sound of his name leaving Jonathan’s lips in such a ragged whisper. He wrapped his fingers around the waistband of Jonathan’s underwear and dragged them down the man’s hips. The instant the bare flesh of Jonathan’s sexy ass was exposed, Cin sank his teeth into the man’s ass cheek. Cin’s eyes fell closed. In almost seven hundred years, Cin had never found another man who kept him ensnared the way Jonathan did. The man was an itch, living under his skin.

  “Damn, I’ve missed you today,” Cin said, hearing the desperation in his voice. “You are the love of my life. My vice.”

  At his confession, Jonathan rolled. He gripped the back of Cin’s neck and hauled him forward. Their mouths clashed. There was no better taste in the world than Jonathan.

  “I’ve been waiting for this.”

  Jonathan’s confession broke something inside Cin. It fed the obsession living inside him. “I need to be inside you.” Once the admission was out there, Jonathan tore at Cin’s jeans, as if he felt the same desperation to be with Cin. The instant they were nude, Cin licked his fingers and stretched Jonathan’s hole. Jonathan writhed beneath him. His impatience caused him to be rougher than he intended. After guiding his cock to Jonathan’s asshole, the man’s body took over, pulling him inside. Tight heat squeezed him, making him wonder how long he could hang on. The noises coming from the back of Jonathan’s throat drove Cin insane. He kissed every place he could reach while speaking against Jonathan’s skin.

  “Do you remember our first night together?”

  Jonathan sucked in a hiss. “Oh God.”

  Cin took that as a yes. “You handcuffed me to the bed. I thought I could play along. Let you continue thinking I was human and you could control me. For as long as I live, I’ll never forget your face when those handcuffs shattered. You weren’t afraid.” Pressure climbed from his toes, beating at his crown and making his spine itch as he remembered how out of control he’d been that night. He’d never shown his true nature to a human before Jonathan. Jonathan hadn’t reacted the way any other human would. Instead of screaming or running for his life, Jonathan’s lust had heightened. The man beneath Cin was a sexual deviant. It was enough to blow any man’s mind. “Don’t be afraid now. Let me inside your head. Show me all your darkest fantasies. I can make them real.”

  Rather than giving in, Jonathan surged upward and flipped until he straddled Cin’s hips, taking what he wanted. He rode Cin hard, stealing all Cin’s thoughts. His kisses turned biting. Jonathan’s fangs were bared. The sexy sight made it hard for Cin to breathe.

  Jonathan’s lips moved to the shell of Cin’s ear. “I love you, sexy. More than words,” he swore before sinking his fangs into Cin’s neck. Lights exploded behind Cin’s eyes—like a strobe light. Every muscle tensed to the point of tearing something before an orgasm shook him to his core. Hot semen coated his stomach and chest, letting him know he’d somehow pleased Jonathan while the man had him completely entranced. Jonathan stole his blood and seed while filling Cin’s mind with images of all the dirty ways he’d allow Cin to c
ontrol him. The waves of pleasure didn’t relent, releasing him from their grip, until Jonathan licked the puncture wounds closed.

  “Loving you is the scariest and bravest thing I’ve ever done,” Jonathan whispered against his ear. “I gave my life away for you. Stay for a little while. I’ll show you all the dark places you want to see. I’ve got nothing left to fear, except an eternity without you.”

  Cin’s stomach clenched at the idea. He wanted to punish Jonathan for as much as thinking it. Cin had an hour or two he could spend teaching Jonathan a lesson. He wouldn’t let a second go to waste.

  4

  Cin was gone. A huge part of Jonathan recognized he should’ve seen that one coming. After all, Cin was always gone lately. Still, when he’d opened his eyes after hours of rough lovemaking, the empty space where Cin should have been felt like a void inside him rather than beside him. Instead of flying into a rage, Jonathan took a shower as if nothing happened. He kept his mind carefully blank. Nothing good could come of him turning things over in his head. He’d always believed, once he was like Cin, there’d be nothing left standing between them. Now, there were so many things driving them apart, he couldn’t even see Cin any longer. Jonathan stared out the kitchen window, wondering how long it would take for him to snap, and what would happen when he did.

  “Did Cin talk to you about helping with the interrogation of our guest in the garage?”

  “There’s a guest in the garage?” Jonathan asked around a bite of ice cream. He’d been attempting Niall’s concoction again when Dougal had snuck up on him. Jonathan had assumed everyone was gone since he hadn’t been able to find anyone when he’d rolled out of bed.

  Dougal scrubbed his hands over his face before meeting Jonathan’s gaze once more. He looked resigned. “I’ll take that as a no. Faolan said Cin would talk it over with you.”

  The way Dougal’s lips flattened into a line fascinated Jonathan. Still, he had Jonathan’s curiosity piqued. The man had definitely said something about helping. Since Jonathan had never been more bored in his life, he wanted to know more. “What do you need me to do?”

  “Niall captured a demon spawn shortly before our arrival,” Dougal said fast, as if he expected Jonathan might be angry over the news. It was ridiculous, of course. That was what the clan did—they fought evil. When Jonathan didn’t react, Dougal continued, “We’ve been taking turns interrogating the spawn about his pack without luck. I thought you might like a stab at it.”

  “What’s a spawn?” Jonathan asked, hoping to buy time. He knew nothing about trying to get information from a demon.

  “It’s the child of a demon and human.”

  “Oh.”

  Some of his panic must have shown on his face because Dougal gave his shoulder a pat. “Don’t worry. He can’t hurt you. We’ve got him trapped by ancient symbols. You’ll be perfectly safe. Just have a chat with him and see if you can glean anything from his words. It’s my hope, with your investigative skills, you might see something we don’t.”

  Jonathan threw his spoon in the sink. “What the hell. Why not?”

  He followed Dougal’s directions to the small room built inside the garage. His steps slowed as he approached the door. It wasn’t as if Jonathan hadn’t seen a demon before. After all, one had killed him. Still, he didn’t know what to expect. Surely a demon, even a spawn, would be furious after a month’s imprisonment. Would it even look human any longer? Did spawns ever look anything other than human? Jonathan felt woefully unprepared for this task. Since he didn’t have anything better to do with his time and the journalist side of him was beyond intrigued, Jonathan turned the knob and stepped inside.

  The man inside sat in an uncomfortable-looking chair. If Jonathan wasn’t mistaken, the hardback wooden piece came from their kitchen table. Those always hurt his ass and back after only a few minutes. This dude had been sitting there for over a month. Although Jonathan hadn’t known what to expect, he still couldn’t have guessed what he’d find. This demon was gorgeous. If he thought about it, Jonathan recognized he shouldn’t have been surprised. People made deals with demons. He had to think most people wouldn’t do that with a red beast with horns. This man was brown-haired and brown-eyed, which might sound drab if someone had described the spawn to Jonathan. This guy was anything but. His hair hung over one eye. Even a mess couldn’t dim this dude. A chiseled jaw and cut body coupled with ancient-looking tattoos and pierced nipples. Jonathan wanted to cry foul because no one had warned him the man would be shirtless.

  His gaze followed Jonathan as he crossed the room. Supple lips lifted in one corner, tempting Jonathan to sigh. Jonathan couldn’t help but wonder how many people had willingly traded their souls to this man simply because they hadn’t heard a word he said. They’d been too mesmerized by him.

  “You’re new.”

  Jonathan rolled his shoulders as a British accent fell from the demon’s tongue. Seriously, Dougal should’ve warned him. “Not really,” Jonathan said, trying to keep his tone flat.

  “Actually, I meant quite literally. You’re a new turn. I’d say no more than six months. If that.”

  Tearing his gaze away, Jonathan spent a moment eyeing the symbols drawn on the walls and ceiling. He didn’t want to admit the demon was right. Instead, he chose a different topic.

  “What’s your name?”

  The dude smiled. It screamed wickedness. “As I’ve told your friends, names are power. I have no intention of handing over such control.”

  Jonathan claimed the only other chair in the room. “Why are names power?”

  A line appeared between the demon’s eyes, but he didn’t respond.

  He had no idea what to do or say. Jonathan had never interrogated anyone in his life. He glanced around the room again, hoping for inspiration. His gaze landed on a bucket of water. “When was the last time you had anything to eat or drink?”

  The demon shrugged. “The big one sometimes feeds me.”

  Jonathan had no idea who the big one was supposed to be. To him, all the guys were big. “What do demons eat?”

  “I’m half human, so anything you can, I suppose.”

  After coming to his feet, Jonathan moved to the bucket of water and peered inside. It looked clean. He checked but didn’t see a cup anywhere. Jonathan motioned toward the bucket. “Is this what you’ve been drinking?”

  A snort filled the air. “Are you joking? That’s holy water.”

  Jonathan’s gaze returned to the bucket. Moving slow, hoping to work up his courage, Jonathan traced the rim with the tip of his finger. No one talked to him about anything. Would he lose a finger if he touched the water? He should know the answer. Aggravation clawed at his brain. He was tired of being kept in the dark. Sometimes he half expected to wake up and find himself wrapped in cellophane. Jonathan didn’t know if it was because he was the prince’s mate or if the guys didn’t see him as equal. Either way, he wondered how long it would be before he broke. Before he could change his mind, Jonathan dipped his finger in the water. Nothing happened. No burning flesh or trumpets sounding.

  “You really expected to get burned, didn’t you?”

  Jonathan glanced over and met the demon’s gaze. His eyes were no longer brown. They were gold. Jonathan couldn’t draw a full breath. For a moment, they stared at each other before Jonathan looked away. It seemed weak for some reason, admitting he had no clue what he was about any longer, but he got the feeling this demon knew more about him than Jonathan knew about himself.

  “It’s Lire.”

  Their gaze met once more. “What?”

  “My name,” the demon said. “It’s Lire.”

  Faolan, why are names power? Jonathan wasn’t sure if Faolan would answer since it seemed the guys were hell-bent on keeping him in the dark. He was more than a little surprised when the vamp answered right away.

  If you know a demon’s name, you can summon it at any time.

  “Jonathan,” Jonathan said, hoping by giving Lire his name, he’d ear
n the demon’s trust.

  A low and sexy-sounding chuckle filled the air. Jonathan shook his head, trying to clear the haze the sound created. “That was an idiotic move, Jonathan.”

  Jonathan shook his head again as Lire said his name. The haze thickened, but Jonathan refused to show Lire any weakness. “No more so than you giving me your name, Lire.” The fog cleared from Jonathan’s mind as he said Lire’s name. “Especially since you know I’ll have to share it with my clansmen.”

  “True,” Lire said, sounding as if it mattered not at all. “But I don’t think you’ll tell them.”

  Jonathan reclaimed his seat. “What makes you think so?” Jonathan asked, genuinely curious. He didn’t think he would tell anyone either, but he wanted to hear why Lire didn’t think he would.

  Lire shrugged. “You call them your clansmen, yet you’re different from them, and it has nothing to do with you being a new turn. They hold you apart, or you do. Either way, you’re an outsider here. I recognize the signs.”

  “Are you an outsider in your pack?” Jonathan asked instead of admitting how right Lire was.

  Lire smiled. It was alluring and frightening. “I’m not sure there’s such a thing as an insider in a demon pack. There’s the top and the bottom. Those who lead and those who follow.”

  Jonathan leaned forward—fascinated. “Which are you? Do you lead or follow?”

  Lire’s smile slipped away. “I strive to do neither.”

  An unexpected wave of kinship washed over Jonathan. Lire was half human in a world of full-bloods. At least Jonathan had been turned by beings of his choosing. Lire had been born into a world of evil he’d never escape. That is, if he left here alive.

  Jonathan swiped his palms on his jeans, feeling useless. “Give me one detail I can share with my clansman—something of use, and I’ll get you something to eat and some clean clothes.”

  “No, thank you,” Lire said, surprising Jonathan. “Your show of kindness will only make going home feel all that much worse, especially once the torture begins. I’d like to think I won’t tell the pack leaders what I told you, but I know better.”