Demons Undone: The Sons of Gulielmus Series

by Holley Trent

  “I want to be kept.”

  “It’s nice to … ”

  Her voice trailed off and he waited for her to finish the statement. When she didn’t, he gave her a little shake.

  “Hmm?” Her hum vibrated against his chest in a tickle.

  “What were you saying? You said it’s nice. What’s nice?”

  “Oh. It’s nice to hear you say that. My ex wasn’t so … ”

  He gave her another little shake and felt like an asshole for it.

  “My ex treated me like I was invisible sometimes.”

  How’s that even possible? Her ex was obviously a grade-A loser. “I’ve got some news for you.”

  “What?” She buried her face against his chest and threw a leg over his. She was hunkering down and settling in for the night, and if past evenings have been representative of her typical behaviors, once she locked that leg, she wasn’t moving again. He had thirty seconds tops.

  “Took the written driver’s exam today. Passed it. Your gran helped me prove my residency. I’m apparently leasing this half of the bed. I think I owe her a dollar for the month.”

  “That’s wonderful. I don’t really want you mobile, though.”

  He laughed. “I’m a big boy. I gotta get around.”

  “You have somewhere to be other than here?”

  Absolutely not. In fact, Clarissa’s house had become both a sanctuary and a prison. He knew while he was in it, Gulielmus wouldn’t pop in unannounced. At the same time, that meant his father might resort to dirty tricks to lure him out. Even go so far as to hiring Ariel’s new company to brand his beer?

  That seemed like an elaborate step to take to get John in line.

  “No, I don’t. I like being here. Feels homey. Your grandmother is a good woman. I’m grateful for her hospitality.”

  “And she’s grateful for all the work you’ve done around here, I’m sure.”

  “I’ve got to go out and find a job eventually. I can’t ask you to marry me some day if I’m an indigent slob.” He chuckled.

  He waited. Listened.

  And that time when Ariel didn’t respond, he didn’t wake her up.

  It was probably for the best.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Did you see Agatha this morning?” Mark asked when Ariel returned to their shared office with her second cup of coffee of the morning.

  She shook her head as she sat. “No, and to be honest, it suits me just fine if I have a couple more hours before I do see her. These drawings have been giving me fits. I think the problem is they look too much like caricatures. They need to be more realistic, I think.”

  She twirled her gum eraser between her fingers even thinking about it.

  “You hand-draw?”

  “Yeah. Sometimes. I don’t always get the chance, but there’s only so much you can do with stock art. I can do some pretty creative stuff with it in Illustrator, but for me, manipulating my own stuff just seems more flexible. Besides, I love the sensation of pulling a pencil’s lead across a piece of paper. Way more satisfying than moving a mouse around.”

  “Have you tried using a stylus? Last guy I worked with had one. He wasn’t so good, though.”

  “No. Maybe I should modernize. I’m just a country girl.” She giggled and went back to drawing.

  Mark wasn’t so bad. A little weird, but weren’t they all?

  She’d started the day in a much better mood than the previous one, too. John had woken her up with his head under the covers and his tongue doing more for her wake-up than her alarm clock ever had. She’d rolled out of bed feeling giddy and rubber-legged.

  Momma said she was going to take him to his driver’s license road exam and then he said he’d had some errands to run. He was pretty much a blur from the time she’d stepped out of the shower until she left, never holding still. She’d wanted to kiss him goodbye, but he’d closed himself into the bathroom when she absolutely had to get on the road.

  “Ariel.” Agatha stuck her head into the office.

  Ariel nearly wet her slacks from fright. The woman had crept up with an unusual stealth for someone in such clunky heels. “Yes, ma’am?”

  “You got concepts for me?”

  “I … ” She stared at her sketchpad at all the abandoned attempts at humor and the half-formed icons that had already been done before and better. There were a couple of things that were on the right track, but she needed some time to refine them.

  “I need a couple of hours.”

  “And you can have them, but I need you to come talk to this guy. He seems to fancy himself an amateur art director and you’ve got to come listen to his prattling for a little while. See what he has to say about where he sees the business going. What he has in store for the future and yada yada. I’ve got to be in another meeting in ten minutes. All I do is meetings. I don’t get any actual work done. Funny how that works.”

  “Ariel picked up her laptop and coffee cup. “Where is he?”

  “Conference Two. Don’t let him talk down to you. He’s a blowhard, but has the typical male intelligence.”

  “Hey!” Mark balked.

  “Apologies.” Agatha leaned into the office and gave him a patronizing little pat on the head. “I thought your music was on.”

  “I was between songs.”

  Ariel smiled as she passed them. She was starting to warm up to the quirky team.

  As she walked down the hall, she mentally planned the rest of her day. There was that apartment tour to reschedule. That was a priority. Momma would never complain at however long Ariel needed to stay. In fact, she’d probably welcome her to build on an extension if she saw the need. She’d want her to be close. But, one of the things she’d hated most about living in California was all the commuting. She spent two hours in her car every day getting to and from the office, and now back home she was doing almost the same thing.

  It was different, though, at home. All those open country roads were easy driving. She didn’t hit any real traffic until she passed the Wilmington city limits. In California, it could take her an hour to go twenty miles if she didn’t time her trip well.

  Apartment. I need to find a doctor. Birth control’s kinda important … Maybe I’ll see if Momma needs anything for dinner.

  She was typing the list into her phone’s notepad when she crossed the conference room threshold, so she didn’t see the client upon entry. She was vaguely aware of him standing upon her arrival, but didn’t look at him until she’d piled all her gear atop the table.

  “Hello, I’m Ariel — ”

  Bill Nolitzname gripped the table edge, eyes narrowed, a growling snarl escaping his lips.

  “Um … ” She swallowed hard and took a step back. What’s his deal?

  He straightened his back and lifted his head so Ariel could see his blue eyes held a glint of undue malevolence. Was he really that pissed she was dating his son and that John had chosen not to cast his lot with him? Seemed like a petty thing to get upset over.

  “You.”

  “Yes.” She tried for a grin, but her lips twitched at the corners. “Ariel Thomas. I’m an art director here. I’ve been assigned to this account.”

  He shifted his weight, and Ariel thought the angry man would walk toward her, but he held his position. His fingers, however, now tightened around the chair back and with his knuckles so white, she worried he’d splinter the wood.

  “Well.” His voice was deep and tremulous — it had the kind of rumbling vibrato that might have incited an avalanche. But as dark as unfriendly as it was, there was a certain attractiveness about it. She didn’t know if it was because it was so much like John’s or if it was something else.

  “I couldn’t have planned this better if I tried.” Now he did walk around, dragging the fingertips of his rig
ht hand along the tabletop as he made a sinuous strut around the conference table.

  Ariel took another step back from the table. “I’m sorry. Planned what?”

  “You have no idea what’s going on, do you?”

  Okay, asshole. I was going to be nice. She squared her shoulders and narrowed her own eyes right back at him. “I studied the materials. I’m perfectly well-equipped to discuss the campaign art with you. I’m a qualified, professional art director.”

  He stopped one foot from her and leaned his rear against the table edge, eyeing her like a dripping ice cream cone.

  She held her ground. Maybe this was a lesson she hadn’t learned when she was just a junior art director. She didn’t spend a lot of time with clients, much less one-on-one. She might have been prepared to talk graphics, but she was considerably unequipped to put chauvinist jerkwads in their place.

  Maybe Agatha hired the wrong girl for this job. Maybe my ex was right.

  She figured if she didn’t have the confidence, she could at least have bluster, so she quirked her brow and perched her fists on her hips.

  “You don’t know. If you knew, you’d be afraid of me.”

  “Mr. Nolitzname, you’re not going to bully me. We’re going to devise some ideas for your branding. Feel free to make suggestions, but we’re the pros. You’ve got to trust that we know what works in the market.”

  “This doesn’t have a damned thing to do with beer and branding. This has to do with my son and what he is.”

  She didn’t know what he meant, but it was that bluster again. She wasn’t going to let him know it.

  “I know exactly what he is.”

  “Really? And how does that grandmother of yours feel about you being involved with the kind of individual she detests so much?”

  What is he talking about? Momma doesn’t hate anyone.

  He lowered his voice to whisper and leaned in closer. “She’ll probably try to kill him in his sleep. Or maybe you’ll do the job yourself, huh? I bet you know how. She pass on the family secret?”

  “I’m sorry, sir, and I’m probably going to get fired for saying it, but you’re crazy. Keep John out of this.”

  “I won’t, because what you don’t seem to understand here is that you’re interfering with my business. John is part of that business. You’ve crossed the wrong demon, you little bitch.”

  He leaned back and Ariel felt her heart pounding in her ears and her cheeks burn. Still, she scrunched her face into an angry mask and tried to steady her breathing. She was through with bullies bowling her over. And demon? She scoffed. If he thought giving himself cute little nicknames was going to make her wad up like a wet Kleenex, he had another thing coming.

  “No, you’ve crossed the wrong art director. I didn’t drive cross-country to reboot my career to have men like you deflate me. Now, either we’re going to sit down and I’m going to show you some sketches, or we can end this right now and you can take it up with Agatha.”

  “Sure, we can end it.” His lips parted to show off his white, toothy grin. It was a toothpaste model grin. She’d certainly seen enough of those back in California. She bet he even had veneers. “I’ve been itching to end this personally for days.”

  Her forehead furrowed. “Days? I’ve been on this account for less than twenty-four — ”

  Suddenly, he was behind her. His arm draped around her neck and his lips pressed against her ear, prickling the fine hairs there and sending an electric jolt down her spine. And it wasn’t the typical proximity tingle, either — this one was like a repeated static shock. As if she’d shuffled across a shag carpet in wool socks and touched a metal doorknob again and again.

  And it kept coming, morphing from merely annoying, to uncomfortable, to painful.

  She tried to pull away from him, but it was as if his touch had welded her in place. She couldn’t move. Could hardly breathe.

  “What … are … you … doing … to … me … ?” she croaked, and his lips moved around the words he whispered.

  “Like I told you. If you knew who I was, you’d be afraid of me.”

  She still didn’t know — not really — but that fear thing had definitely made its arrival.

  “Let … go … ”

  “No. Just open up a little and we’ll be all done. You won’t have to worry about a thing. Won’t even remember. Won’t remember this day. Won’t remember me. Won’t remember John.”

  “John?”

  His arm wrapped tighter around her neck, although asphyxiation was probably unnecessary. Her body felt like it was shutting down, one system at a time. She wasn’t sure if her feet were still there. She couldn’t feel them or even look down at them.

  “Mm-hmm. It was supposed to be an easy in-and-out, but I guess it’s my fault for not supervising him better. It was his first week on the job.”

  “Job?”

  “Job. That’s all. You know what he was supposed to do?”

  “No.” It was all she could manage. With every exhale she took, her longs compressed a bit and she couldn’t get back that space her lungs needed. She held her breath which was not a particularly wise move given how she was already lightheaded. She tried short, shallow breaths next.

  Where were all her coworkers? They normally tramped up and down the halls day in and day out. There was never more than five minutes that passed where someone didn’t walk by. Where were they all now? Had time stopped just like her brain evidently had?

  “I — ”

  “Shh, shh. No need to talk, Arianna.”

  “Ehhrr-ee-uhhl,” she croaked.

  “Whatever. Don’t you see? I bet if you were the praying sort, this wouldn’t have happened to you. He would have never got close. You’re not very pious, are you, little girl? Isn’t that what your grandmother calls you? Her little girl? I seem to remember that from way back.”

  This time, she knew better than to respond.

  “You’ve hit the romantic jackpot. Hooked up with the son of an incubus, and not just any incubus. A goddamned angel who chose to fall. You really know how to pick ’em. But, I guess you couldn’t help it. He’s good-looking like his daddy.”

  This is crazy. He’s on meth or whatever that other drug is that makes people have delusions of grandeur. John’s not …

  She had to think about it. He’d fallen off a roof to no effect — not even a scratch. And then there was Momma being so weird the past few days. And all the mysterious brothers popping up out of the blue when he’d claimed he’d never met any of them before? Surely, he was gaming her. It couldn’t be real. If what this guy Bill was saying was true, that meant there was no way John could love her. She was just a pawn. Just a warm body. But …

  “Why?” Now she couldn’t even croak. It was just a wheeze. Every time she blinked, she lost a few precious seconds to the darkness. Was he killing her? Taking something from her? Turning her into an empty shell?

  Well, whatever he was doing, she had to fight it. But how?

  “Why? For the souls, little girl. That’s what we demons do. Torture. Intimidate. Steal. Wreak havoc. Reap. Taint. I’m claiming your soul for my team. And this one — oh, this one will guarantee me kudos from the big guy. You see? We don’t take kindly to people smiting our guys.”

  “Ehh — ”

  “Don’t waste your breath. Blame your parents for this. I might have let you go otherwise, but now — you and John? You kids make me sick, so I’m wiping your memory, putting my brimstone thumbprint on your soul, and taking back my son. I don’t get the appeal. He could have at least picked someone with attitude. You’re weak.”

  If she’d had the ability at the moment, she would have kicked him in the demon nuts. And John? Oh, if she got out of this alive, he’d be next.

  “Say goodnight, Ashley.”

  She said
nothing. The room started going dark, and she felt herself slumping — falling toward the floor.

  Strong arms caught her and gave her a vigorous shake.

  “Dammit, don’t do this shit in my office!” Agatha said. “What’s wrong with you?”

  Is she talking to me? Ariel could hardly open her eyes.

  “Fine. I won’t.”

  “What’s the deal, Gulielmus? You can’t find enough women out on the streets to harass you’ve got to bother my staff? Not cool.”

  “She’s not just any woman. She’s screwing my son.”

  “Who isn’t screwing one of your sons? Have many do you have now? A quarter of the country is probably genetically linked to you.”

  Ariel heard a splintering pound on the table. Must have been his fist.

  “They’re not like John.”

  “Okay, I’m sorry. This isn’t going to work out,” Ariel said as her vision became clear.

  Agatha, now reasonably certain she wasn’t going to fall over and smash her nose on the table edge, let go of her.

  “I quit. I don’t know what’s going on here, but I quit.”

  Agatha sighed. “I wish you wouldn’t, but I can certainly understand how uncomfortable this must make you. If it’s any consolation, I don’t condone any of his extracurricular activities. We went our separate ways millennia ago.”

  “What?”

  Agatha sighed yet again. “Look, honey, there’s a lot you don’t know about the world. I’m sorry this had to be your introduction to the more secretive bits. Please know no one at this agency is going to harm you. I didn’t know anything about your connection to his son when we recruited you.”

  “I wasn’t dating his son then. And I’m not now, either.”

  She picked up her laptop, then put it down again. It belonged to the agency. They could move it their own damn selves.

  She sidled around Bill — Gulielmus — but before she could get to the door, he wrapped a strong arm around her waist.

  “Not done.”

  “Gulielmus, leave her.”

  He laughed, and Ariel had never heard a more evil thing. “No. You’ve never had the ability to command me. Not way back when you were actually doing the job you were made for, and not now either. So, good day to you, you windbag. Sorry we won’t be doing business this go-round.”