by Allie Gail
“I don't like this,” I announce through clenched teeth. “I seriously don't like this.”
“Sh-h,” Loc breathes in my ear. The feel of his warm, hard body so close to mine does crazy things to my hormones. “It's only a nightmare if you believe it is. Don't be afraid of what you don't understand. Open your eyes. See the world the way I see it. Get to know that part of me a little better. Take it in, baby. Take it all in.”
Unable to resist his soft coaxing, I do as he requests, shooting a fearful glance at the animated steed on my left. It makes a vicious braying noise and lashes out at the air with its front hooves.
“They're beautiful, aren't they?” he murmurs.
“I don't know. They're...” I'm at a loss for words here. Beautiful? I'm not sure that's how I would choose to describe the demon horses. I suppose they are, in an aesthetic sense, but like the dissonant music they seem so...evil.
So unnatural.
So dark.
So...
Like him.
He slides one hand around my waist, the other moving up so he can trail his fingers down my neck. The stallion flies in its neverending circle, yo-yoing up and down with us on its back, a blur of snowflakes shrouding the landscape in white as the jarring melody thrums in my veins.
“I can feel your pulse racing,” he whispers. “It feels good, doesn't it? The adrenaline. The excitement.”
I turn my head a bit so he can hear me over the spectral music. “You feel good.”
He brushes his lips lightly against my cheek, his breath warming me as he chuckles softly. “Mm, sweetheart. You have no idea just how good I can feel.”
Maybe not, but I'd very much like to find out.
Impulsively, I let go of the brass pole and stretch out a hand to tentatively stroke the stallion's painted black muzzle. It doesn't seem to object, though the vacant eyes roll back once again to give me another indecipherable look.
Behind me, Loc purrs his approval. “There. Now was that so hard?”
Steadying myself with both hands on his thighs, I relax against his chest. My fears begin to recede. All I can think about right now is the hard body cradled against mine, and how intoxicating it feels to be this close to him.
“Sure you don't want a tour of the funhouse?” he teases.
“Not on your life.” I don't even want to think about the hellish horrors he might dredge up in there. Haunted carousels are bad enough. The last thing I want is to see the reflection of a demonic clown in one of those funhouse mirrors.
His hands roam beneath my hoodie to cup my breasts, and I arch my back with a whimper as he slides his fingers inside my bra. All he does is brush them across my nipples, but the light touch has them instantly stiffening into hard peaks. “Loc...”
His voice is a husky whisper. “What is it, precious?”
“Let's get out of here. Please.”
“You know what's going to happen when I get you home, don't you?” He squeezes my breasts, and I squirm against him. I want his hands all over me. His touch does things to me that are pure magic. Black magic, surely, but at this point I'm beyond caring.
“Yes. You're going to...” I trail off, suddenly uncertain. By now I should know better than to second-guess his intentions. What if I'm wrong?
“I'm going to fuck you,” he clarifies firmly. “Very hard and very deep. And just when you think you can't take any more, I'm going to fuck you again. And again. And again. Are you starting to see a pattern emerging here, love?”
Unable to speak, I merely bite my lip. Oh, God...
“All I'm asking from you is one word,” he continues. “Because I'm giving you something I've never given anyone before. A choice. I'm offering you an out. I'm willing to release you from your debt if that's what you want. I'll still hold up my end of the bargain, no strings attached. All you have to do is tell me no, and I'll send you back to Kansas and you will never hear from me again. But if you say yes, then know that I will not be holding back. Your body will be mine, to use for my own pleasure, and I won't let you deny me anything.”
Stunned, I turn my head to gaze at him in astonishment. Is he serious? After everything that happened, after everything my brother did to him, he's willing to just forget it and let me off scot free? With no repercussions whatsoever? He's a demon. Demons make deals. They don't let people back out of them. They don't possess the compassion for something like that.
But maybe...half-human demons do.
Brushing his lips across mine in a feather-soft kiss, he asks, “So what's it going to be, Jude?”
My heart hammers against my chest. The sad part is, I don't even have to think about it. I know what I should do. I know the logical thing to do. The smart thing.
Unfortunately, what I should do and what I want to do are two very different things.
One day, I know I will look back on my naïveté and realize how foolish I was for following him so blindly.
Today is not the day.
“Yes,” I whisper.
The lights on the carousel flicker and go dark.
The platform slows its relentless turn.
Suspended from their poles, the horses cease their thrashing and gaze lifelessly into the night, inanimate playthings once more.
And the music, having reached its crescendo, ends in a rolling clap of thunder that resonates through the air before tapering off into silence.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Chapter Twenty
A thin layer of snow crunches beneath our feet as we head back.
We don't say much. What is there to say, really?
Loc seems to be in high spirits. He's whistling as we walk, a pretty and strangely maudlin tune that is unfamiliar. The notes echo in the cold air. It's a sound that doesn't belong. In the still darkness, it only serves to emphasize our isolation. If the rest of the world exists, it's too far away to matter.
Shivering, I clasp his hand just a little bit tighter.
“I thought you were supposed to be showing me a more human side of you,” I remind him, as a distraction from my wayward thoughts. No point second-guessing my decision now. Given another chance, I can't say I'd have done it any differently.
I know what I'm getting into. I know, and fool that I am, I embrace my ruin with open arms.
He stops whistling long enough to reply, “My dear, that was about as close to humanity as I care to get.”
I'm not sure what to make of that. He cheerfully picks up his tune, while I wonder if it was meant as an insult.
“What makes you say that?” I finally ask. “You'd rather be human than the alternative, wouldn't you?”
“You act as if I should be ashamed of my heritage. As if it's something I'm expected to atone for.” Apparently I've offended him, because he sounds indignant. “Tell me, what is so bloody admirable about the human race? Where do you think demons evolved from in the first place? We aren't so different. The line dividing us is tenuous at best. If it even exists.”
“Can't say I agree with that. Not in most cases, anyway.”
“Of course you'd see it that way. You're full of youthful optimism. Read the news more often, darling. Open your eyes, look around you. You'll see that evil isn't confined to Hell.”
I hesitate before confessing, “I don't think you're evil.”
“No? And when did you reevaluate your opinion of me, pray tell?”
“When you gave me the opportunity to back out.”
“I wouldn't read too much into it, love. That was a one-time-only offer.”
“So why did you make it?”
“Maybe I just wanted to see what your answer would be.” We've arrived at the house, and he holds the door open to usher me inside where it's nice and toasty. I can't help but notice that the kitchen table has been cleared away. Who took care of that, I wonder?
Gasping a startled oh, I stop so abruptly that Loc bumps into me.
We aren't alone.
There is a strange woman standing in front of the fireplace. O
ne hand gripping the mantel, she is gazing into the crackling flames of a fire that wasn't there when we left. A nondescript figure, average in size, nothing remarkable about her. She's dressed in a dark navy suit with dull, sensible shoes, and her sleek black hair is pulled back from her face in a severe bun.
My first thought is that she resembles a librarian. One of those surly ones. You know, the sullen crab who never smiles and gives you the death-stare if you so much as whisper in her domain. That type.
Hearing us, she turns to face Loc with a stony expression, ignoring me completely. That's when I notice the long, jagged scar trailing down her left cheek.
“So sorry to disturb you, sir.” Even her voice is drab. A cold, flat monotone.
He frowns, not bothering to hide his annoyance. Obviously he wasn't expecting her presence here either. “What is it, Cassandra?”
“Your father would like a word with you, if you don't mind.”
“What – now?”
“I'm afraid so, sir.”
Raking a hand through his hair, Loc growls irritably. “That fucking prick knows better than to interrupt me right now! What does he want this time?”
“I don't know, sir.”
“Son of a bitch...his timing has always sucked ass, you know that? This better be important.”
“Yes, sir.” Her deadpan expression never changes. I might find it funny, if not for the fact that I'm fully aware this woman is not what she seems. I may not possess my brother's uncanny knack for recognition, but even I know the score here. I'm not looking at a human, but a demon wearing some poor wretch like an overcoat.
With one finger, Loc tilts my chin up to give me a reassuring smile. “Forgive the intrusion, love. Tell you what, why don't you run along upstairs. I'll join you in a bit.”
Wait a minute, pump the brakes, hold on! Where does he think he's going?
“Loc...” I shift my eyes uneasily to Cassandra. She glances my way, then quickly averts her gaze to the floor. As if she's afraid to look at me. Weird.
“You,” he barks at her, his eyes still trained on me. “Stay here with Judith. See to her comfort. And keep your opinions to yourself. Understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
His orders don't diminish my alarm in the slightest. Has he lost his mind? What the fuck is he thinking – is he actually going to go running off and leave me here alone, at the mercy of one of Hell's minions?
“Wait! No, wait.” I tug on his arm nervously. “What are you doing? You're leaving? Don't leave me here, Loc. Seriously. Don't even.”
“I won't be long. Twenty minutes, half an hour tops. I promise.”
“Fine. Then I'll go with you.”
“The accommodations wouldn't be to your liking, kitten. Trust me.” His mouth twitches, as if he finds the very prospect humorous.
“Yeah, okay, I get that but I don't think this is-”
“You're safe here. Cassandra has her instructions. She is here to serve you and nothing more. If you need anything, all you have to do is open your pretty little mouth and ask.”
“She doesn't have to stay. It's really not necessary,” I protest weakly. If I'm incapable of fending for myself for a measly half hour, I'm clearly too stupid to live. So why do I get the feeling she's here in the capacity of guard rather than gofer?
My objections are disregarded. Planting a kiss on my forehead, Loc gives me a playful grin and strolls off, presumably headed back outside. I watch him go, and can't help but wonder where he's off to, how he'll get there, and what is so urgent that it couldn't wait. Half an hour doesn't seem like enough time to even get anywhere, much less accomplish anything.
It's far too quiet.
Somewhere, in another part of the house, a grandfather clock chimes four times.
“Umm...” I hum awkwardly.
“Is there anything I can get for you, miss?”
Miss? Oh, you gotta be kidding me. My very own personal subservient demon – Russ will never believe this. All I can say is, this Hazel-from-Hell maid better be glad I never learned the Rituale Romanum. I'd send her back in a heartbeat.
I fold my arms behind my back, twisting my hands together. Slowly, I shake my head. “No, it's okay. I'm good. Thanks...uh, thank you. Anyway.”
Eyes still fused to the floor, she murmurs, “Very well, then.”
Hm. What to do now? The way she's rooted in place like a stump, I almost feel bad for her. She seems kind of pathetic, in a way. So submissive. Are all of Hell's lackeys this obedient? It feels wrong to just walk off and leave her standing here. What exactly is the proper etiquette for situations like this?
I doubt if even Miss Manners would have a clue. So I wait, albeit uncomfortably, to see if she says or does anything.
She doesn't.
“Was his father waiting outside?” I eventually ask. I'm still confused as to where exactly Loc was going. This is thirty-one flavors of weird and believe me, none of them are vanilla.
“No, miss. Not in the sense that you think.”
Well, that's clear as mud. Is there an alternate route to the underworld that I'm not aware of? God, what a thought. An express elevator straight to Hell. I can only imagine what the doorman would look like.
“This house...” I begin to babble. “It's amazing. So beautiful. Does it belong to Loc – um, Mr. Price?” Jesus Christ. Have I really stooped to making idle conversation with a demon?
“For the time being,” she replies evasively.
Again, no idea how to decipher that. Screw it anyway, I may never get a chance like this again. I should be using the time to probe her for information. Now let's see. What's something I've always wanted to know?
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Certainly, miss.”
“You were a person once. Human. Weren't you?”
“Indeed I was.”
“Would you mind...and please don't take offense or anything, but may I ask what it was you did that landed you in the brig? Heh, heh. So to speak.”
For the first time, I catch the tiniest spark of emotion in her wooden face. Her eyes raise to meet mine for just the briefest moment, and what I see in their black depths is something I wish my mind could erase.
Malice. Cruelty. The complete absence of anything good or kind or merciful.
It is pure, unadulterated evil.
Dropping her gaze, she presses her thin lips together in a malignant smile. “Unspeakable things, miss. Lovely, bloody, unspeakable things.”
I try to swallow, but my mouth is dry. Why did I ever think it would be a good idea to strike up a conversation with one of these things? What did I expect to learn? Damn my insatiable curiosity. What I really need to learn is how to shut off the motor feeding my mouth.
“Okay then! Um...you know what? I'm just gonna go...” Stumbling backward, I uncross my arms and gesture with both hands to the staircase. “I'm gonna go upstairs now. And...yeah. Go to sleep or something. 'Cause, you know. It's late and all. So...”
“Of course, miss. Do let me know if you require anything.”
“Sure! I'll do that. I'll just...give you a shoutout. Totally. You betcha.” Stop talking, Judith. For the love of God, just stop. With an uneasy glance over my shoulder, I walk calmly up the stairs when what I'd prefer to do is run. Fast. At warp speed. Leave that crazy bitch in the dust.
I close and lock the bedroom door behind me. Not that it will matter, but the token gesture makes me feel a little safer somehow. Out of sight, out of mind. She's probably still in the exact same spot in front of the fireplace, eyes cast down like some freaky geisha in a cheap suit.
Taking a deep breath to steady my nerves, I concentrate instead on getting ready for bed. I brush my teeth and freshen up in Shangri-La, then rummage through my duffel for something to wear. Shit... I packed in such a hurry, I didn't bring anything to sleep in. There isn't even a t-shirt in here. Just sweaters and jeans and, oddly enough, a random plaid skirt that doesn't really go with anything.
What was I t
hinking when I put that in?
I guess it doesn't matter. Considering the current state of affairs, he'd probably just as soon I greeted him stark naked.
Now there's a thought.
Nah. You know what – he wants it so bad, let him make the first move.
Hearing voices coming from downstairs, I hastily rummage through one of his dresser drawers until I find a white v-neck undershirt. It'll have to do. I shed all my clothes, even my panties, and yank the shirt over my head. It's long enough to cover the strategic areas, but just barely.
I'm giving myself a once-over in the mirror when the doorknob rattles. Oops, I forgot I locked it. Doesn't matter though – after a moment the door swings open as easily as if I didn't. Thankfully it's Loc and not his creepy guard dog.
Someone ought to set her up with Silas, I think crazily. Those two gargoyles would be perfect together. A match made in...well, not Heaven, that's for sure.
“You're back.” I don't even bother trying to hide my relief. Imagine – I'm actually glad to see a demon. How screwed up has my life become when that seems normal?
He kicks the door shut behind him, hard enough to make me jump. Oh, shit. Is he mad at me? What did Cassandra tell him?
But as soon as I think it, I realize I'm wrong. His eyes devour me, savage and predatory, roaming the length of my body with a look that even a nun could recognize. Stripping off his charcoal sweater, he stalks toward me in long-legged strides, and I instinctively back away.
I don't get far. The edge of the bed stops me.
Oh, God. His chest. I can't look away. His beautiful, naked, manly pecs...
He gathers me in his arms, jerking my body flush against his hard wall of muscle, and glares down at me with a grim resolve.
“No more fucking distractions,” he growls.
And then his mouth covers mine, those full, luscious lips, and I am instantly drowning in an ocean of desire. I glide my tongue along his, relishing the warm cinnamon flavor. His kisses are so...forceful. So domineering. He slides a hand beneath one of my thighs to pull my leg up and around him, collapsing his weight on me so I tumble backward onto the bed.