by S. L. Wright
I ran into Houston, my arm raised in a futile attempt to flag down a cab. A cab was safety, mobility, protection against demons. But the few cabs that went by were already hired, carrying people to work.
With the bombardment of signatures growing stronger, I continued running down Houston with Savor right on my heels. Turning onto the street behind me, I could feel the stinging of a hundred bees, the terrible sensation caused by Goad, dominating the other signatures. He was a Vex demon.
I really didn’t want to see Goad. He was a sociopath on a leash, if I ever met one.
My ears were also ringing, which meant Stun was with them. Stun was Shock’s offspring, but she had rarely spoken to him since he was born fifty years ago.
I realized Savor wasn’t chasing me; he was running with me, also looking back to judge where the demons were coming from. His glance said that ten-to-one Goad and Stun were after me, but he wasn’t taking any chances.
I ran across Clinton Street amid blaring horns, ignoring the DON’T WALK signs. I nearly killed myself again crossing to the other side of Houston against the light. Savor shouted at cars in his deep voice, banging on hoods to get their attention as we passed between them.
In the narrow streets of the Lower East Side, we ran down Suffolk against the traffic. I was about to veer onto Rivington, when the signatures came barreling at us from the west and a cargo van pulled up in front of us.
Five demons jumped out, dressed in white scrubs as if they were orderlies from a hospital. The van had a huge BELLEVUE decal on it.
One demon I could handle, even two—but not five, not even if Savor fought by my side.
I ran.
They caught me before the end of the block, piling on me in a tangle of arms and legs, ignoring my blows. They trussed me up in a thick leather straitjacket, wrapping my arms around me, and shackling my legs in heavy iron cuffs. Even for a demon, it would be hard to break free of that.
I knew because this wasn’t the first time I’d been locked into a straitjacket. It brought back all those terrifying memories of when I was a teenager and just possessed by a demon. I had huddled in a straitjacket in a cell for hours, listening to distant, eerie cries and unable to scratch or wipe my runny nose or eyes. I felt that same hopelessness, unable to control myself, much less what happened, as lost as I could be.
The demons carried me facedown by my elbows and legs. Savor was hovering near the van, watching. He seemed reluctant to get too close in case they came after him next.
Goad was assuring a few passersby. “Everything’s under control. The patient is fine now.”
“Where are you taking me?” I gasped, trying to see with my face only inches from the sidewalk.
“Where you’ll be safe,” Goad said with a rough laugh as they tossed me into the back of the van.
15
I rattled around in the back of the truck, mostly faceup. It was clear where we were going when I saw the cables of the bridge—back to Brooklyn.
The van drove around the back of the Prophet’s Center and through an open loading dock bay. A driveway circled down to the basement where a dozen other cars were parked. I was tossed onto the cement, and the van quickly returned up the ramp. Goad was the only demon who stayed with me.
I strained every muscle I could, willing myself to break free. Stitches on the leather began to pop. My tendons tore, but I pressed on. Goad kicked my back, and my breath exploded from me. I lay there gasping and glaring up at him.
Goad grinned and reached down to stroke my cheek, absorbing my flare of outrage. Because of Vex’s protection, Goad had stayed away from me. But Shock said he was known for seeking out demon energy. “Such a sweet morsel…,” he murmured almost lovingly.
He drew harder, straining at my shields. His fingertips pressed into my skin as if he wanted to push his whole hand into me, to penetrate my defenses physically if he couldn’t do it spiritually.
“Asshole!” I concentrated on holding my shields together. I wouldn’t allow him to shake my will like Pique had done.
The elevator pinged, startling us both. Goad jerked back before he could be caught sampling the catch.
I saw the huge boots first, and though these were combat-style boots, it reminded me of the ones that had disappeared through my skylight. Looking up, I saw it was Montagna, Dread’s chief of security. As she lifted me easily and dumped me in the little elevator, I wondered if maybe she was the human who’d helped the demon get into my apartment.
If so, that meant Dread was in control of the stealthy demon, or somehow he had learned how to hide his own signature. It made sense that a demon as old as Dread would be the one to discover a way to conceal it.
Goad stayed in the underground garage, giving me a wave of his fingertips good- bye. He had never gotten a taste of me before, but his intent expression said he would do whatever he could to feed off me again. Just what I needed—another demon stalking me. It was getting crowded in my personal corner of hell.
The elevator went up to the top floor, and the door opened into a small, enclosed foyer that I had never seen before. The foyer and elevator were private with no two-way mirrors or cameras peering down. I doubted there was any record of my being brought here.
Dread was close by, but I couldn’t feel Vex in the Prophet’s Center. I wasn’t sure if that was good or bad.
Montagna dragged me through an open door. It closed behind us with a muffled sound, as if it sealed when it locked.
At the end of the narrow room was a huge, circular cage, five feet across and eight feet tall. At first sight it looked like a birdcage because of its peaked roof and decorative ironwork scrolls between the bars. The bars looked strong, plus they were spaced so closely that a demon wouldn’t be able to shrink enough to squeeze through. Some demons could make themselves appear as young as a six-year-old, but even a little girl’s head wouldn’t fit through those bars.
Montagna opened the small door on the cage and shoved me inside, clanging it shut behind me. I fell to the floor, unable to keep my balance with my arms locked around myself in the straitjacket. My chin hit the smooth metal floor.
The door on the other side of the room opened, and Dread appeared. I struggled to roll over. There was no way I was lying like a beetle on my back in front of him.
By the time I got up on my knees, Montagna was gone. Dread and I were alone.
“What do you think you’re doing?” I demanded. “You can’t force me to play a part in your Revelation.”
“After the assassination attempt this morning, Vex thought it would be better if you stayed here under our protection.”
I let out a short laugh of disbelief. “Are you insane?”
Dread shrugged. “Vex’s orders. He thinks you can be broken to heel, and he’s willing to take as long as he needs in order to do it.”
I seized at the crack that had formed in their foundation. “What about you, Dread? What do you think?”
“I think you’re too independent to be broken so easily.”
I sat back on my heels. “Maybe you’re the smart one.”
“That remains to be seen.”
The door from the elevator opened and Montagna appeared. Theo was with her, his wrists in handcuffs that were locked to a belt around his waist. His shirt hanging in tatters, he was scraped up, bruised, but defiant nonetheless.
I had never been so glad to see anyone in my life.
Theo lurched forward, trying to get to the cage. “Allay! Are you all right? You’re bleeding. What did they do to you?”
Montagna bashed him in the back of the leg, sending him down to his knees with a grunt. I couldn’t wipe my face, but I could feel the blood drip from my chin. I hadn’t even noticed it got busted open when I hit the floor of the cage. Now that he’d seen it, I couldn’t heal it.
“Let him go to her,” Dread ordered.
Theo crawled the last few feet to the bars of the cage. “Allay!”
I wiggled forward on my knees. “I’m okay,
Theo. Have they hurt you?”
Dread interrupted. “You’re famished, Allay. You need to eat.” He didn’t seem to care whether Montagna or Theo heard.
Theo was still incensed at seeing me trussed up. “You think torturing her will make her cooperate?”
“Oh, no. She’s not the one who’s going to be tortured.” Dread gestured to Montagna. “You are.”
Theo resisted as much as a man could with his wrists cuffed to his belly button. He got in a good swipe at Montagna’s feet to throw her off balance, and his roundhouse kick just missed her chin. I was cheering him on for all I was worth.
Montagna’s training showed as she danced out of the way, then darted back in. Grappling with him, she slammed him face-first against the cage. It was so heavy it didn’t even budge, but it rang out horribly as his skull connected with the bars. With two quick motions, she hooked his restraining belt to the scrollwork between the bars. It held him close to the cage so that he had to lean forward, keeping his knees bent to hold himself up.
“Go ahead,” Dread ordered. “Make it hurt.”
“Dread, no!” I cried. “You can’t!”
Montagna grabbed Theo’s hair and jerked his head back. “I’m going to enjoy this,” she hissed into his ear. There weren’t any sexual undertones; she wasn’t getting off on being able to beat him. It was darker than that, a predatory instinct unleashed.
Her fingers dug into his T-shirt and pulled down sharply. The worn threads shredded as she ripped the tattered remains off his back.
“Dread, stop her,” I pleaded. “Don’t do this or I’ll never help you, I swear.”
“Allay, don’t make it worse,” Theo warned. Then he looked away.
Her fist landed on his kidney, making him grunt in pain. Then her other fist pounded the other side.
“The police report said your ribs were broken,” Montagna murmured. “How does that feel now?”
I tasted blood. My own lip was bleeding where I bit it. “You’re sick,” I hissed at her.
She used him like a punching bag, beating him in the lower back. He couldn’t take a breath between the blows, they rained down on him so hard and fast. She varied her punches from place to place, even hitting him repeatedly in the ribs under his arm.
When Montagna finally stopped, she was breathing heavily. For a woman in such good shape, that said something. Theo was sagging from the restraining belt at his waist, cutting into his back unbearably but unable to stand in the violet haze of pain that engulfed his aura.
I was helpless, wrapped up in the straitjacket. I couldn’t even touch him to take away his pain.
I stole a glance at Dread. He looked dissatisfied with what was happening. He didn’t like pain. He wanted fear, that slow-burning eater of life. But Theo wasn’t afraid in spite of the beating.
Montagna was definitely enjoying herself. She unhooked him from the cage, then used her truncheon to hit him sharply in his chest and the back of his legs as he curled into a defensive ball. “Lie still!”
She started to strip him, yanking at his shoe as he managed a weak kick or two, which she avoided; then she jerked his other shoe off. His jeans quickly followed.
Dread looked alarmed. “How bad is he?”
“Pretty bad. Blood on the lips means he could die,” Montagna replied, her voice nonchalant. I hated her.
“That’s enough then. Put him inside.”
I strained as hard as I could at the straitjacket. One of the buckles snapped off, and I felt more of the stitching let go.
But it wasn’t enough. Dread used the ornate iron key to unlock the small door, and Montagna dragged Theo over and rolled him inside.
Dread slammed the cage door shut behind him, locking it and slipping the iron key into his pocket. “You know what to do, Allay. The more you resist, the worse it will be.”
Dread’s footsteps were followed silently by Montagna as they left the room, shutting the door behind them. Montagna was a killer, and I had no doubt that she worked for Dread, because she got what she needed. She probably didn’t mind tenderizing his meat as long as she could finish off the leftovers.
I leaned over him. “Theo…”
There was blood smeared on his lips and trickling down one corner, bright red. His eyes were drawn in pain at each gasping breath, as if it were unbearable. His back and sides were inflamed bright red with patches of bloody flecks where his flesh had been pounded raw. There was a long, purpling bruise forming across his chest, where he had been hit with her truncheon. Other bruises marked the back of his legs.
He lifted his hand to grab on to the front of my jacket where my arms crossed. “Turn around,” he rasped.
I shifted so he could reach the buckle in back to undo it. He didn’t say anything about the other one I’d broken. He didn’t have to undo the back of the jacket; I shrank my chest and arms and wiggled out easily once my arms were freed.
He groaned as he tried to raise himself, falling back down. I sat down so he could lie with his head on my lap. “Here, this will be better.”
Theo eased back slowly, wincing as he curled on his side. He let out a ragged breath as he settled into place. The heat of his body was scorching, so solid and heavy against me, as if he were a fire I could warm myself over. The musky scent of him and the sheen of sweat on his bare skin made me think of twining my legs with his… thoughts that I was ashamed of. How could I lust after a man who was in such misery? I was an evil creature.
I touched his cheek with trembling fingers, brushing the scrapes he had gotten when the guards pushed him down in the basement. His eyes closed as I ran my hand through his thick hair, feeling the slight tug where the ends curled. I scooped off his pain, taking it as fast as I could to give him some relief. I did it to help him, but his suffering passed into my own body in the form of potent energy.
I resolutely refused to touch the bright streaks of euphoria that shot through his aura where I drew away the pain; those brief moments when he felt a hint of relief. The golden light was tantalizing, but it would be wrong to take even a drop.
Theo’s gaze was so trusting and open. Why did he still look at me that way? I didn’t deserve it. I’d proved in every way I didn’t deserve it.
“That feels better.” He sighed.
“I’m sorry. It’s my fault.”
“Would you believe that it’s worth it to be with you?”
It made me sad to think I had glamoured him with my demon ways. My hand faltered. “No…”
“Well, it is.”
Theo was worried about me. I could feel his concern and fear for me pouring off him in waves. But he wasn’t scared for himself, despite his terrible pain. My fingers tingled with the medley of his emotions every time I stroked his hair.
He kept closing his eyes as if the simple touch were heaven. I was pulling off a great deal of his pain, so it wasn’t surprising that endorphins were making him heady. Perhaps that explained his fearlessness.
“You’re not like any man I’ve ever met, Theo.”
His eyes were blue again, not black and dilated. “I would go to the ends of the earth for you, Allay.”
I felt it, too. Like a dying wish, I wanted to escape all of this and run away with him. It was foolish—I barely knew him. But I’d never felt this way before.
Theo was exactly what I needed in a man; a partner, a lover, the perfect mate. In another world, we would have a big romance, then settle down and have kids, change and grow together, share our old age together. The Happily Ever After that everyone wanted. It was my wasted life’s dream, a hope I had lost at eighteen, though it had taken until now for me to face it.
Living as I was, I was already dead. Hope and new possibilities were dead, because I had to live a lie.
That was why, in spite of myself, I thought about Vex’s offer. Everything would change if I worked with him. I could tell everyone exactly who I was—something other than human, a creature of pure spirit. I could live in truth.
But I’d be
a freak show, a perversion of religion, fool’s gold for the shysters to sell.
It would be another dead imitation of life. No, the only way to live was the one promised in Theo’s eyes—love and admiration, a tender caring that shrugged aside selfish needs, and the light of endless faith.
I couldn’t have that life.
Tears filled my eyes, but I smiled to show him that it wasn’t all pain. Oh, it was bittersweet, but at least I had gotten a taste of what I had lost, here at the end. I had been granted a glimpse into paradise, and it confirmed everything I knew already—there was nothing else worth living for.
A long time went by as Theo dozed off in a delirium. I watched him sleeping, drawing off his stronger twinges of pain with a light fingertip.
Eventually, the inner door opened, revealing a slice of black hardwood floor and towering windows—Dread’s loft. I hadn’t noticed that before. The light was coming in strongly, indicating it was late afternoon. How convenient it was for him to keep his victims caged up right next door; how liberal of Lash to allow it.
Looking at Theo, curled up and naked, made something snap inside of me. I wanted to tell him the truth about myself. He deserved to know it. But there were probably cameras in the room, and Vex would know if I did. Then they would definitely kill him.
Suddenly I realized Dread was in the room. I had been too distracted, and his signature was now tempered by another demon’s. Vex was back, as well. It felt as if he were right next door, in Dread’s loft.
As Dread walked over to the cage, my lip lifted as if I smelled something bad.
“We have all the time in the world,” Dread assured me. “When this man dies, we’ll get another one of your people so you can feed off them.”
He was talking about Lolita and Darryl. Pepe. Maybe even Shock. They would let Montagna torture them. All of them. One by one in a parade, each suffering because of me.
Well, doesn’t that just suck.
I stood up to confront Dread, clenching my hand around one of the bars. “You’re disgusting.”