I step forward again.
They close in again.
Huh.
“Let me guess,” I say. “Is this your way of telling me to stay in the cabin?”
Acting in unison, the trio lift their machine guns at once. Still no talking. Even so, I guess words are overrated. It’s an extreme way to handle a student. I can’t say I’m totally shocked, though. This island is crazy pants.
“I’ll just go back inside.” With as much dignity as I can muster, I retreat into my luxury prison. My tail flips them the bird as I walk away though. Even though the humans can’t see the gesture, I do appreciate the support.
I plunk down into the butter-soft leather couch and take stock of things.
First, I could knock out those guards. However, that’s messy and noisy, and I’d need to put on my dragonscale fighting suit. Plus, they’ve got guns. And although the bullets wouldn’t go through dragonscales, they’ll still hurt like a sonuvabitch.
Second, I could find another way to sneak out of here.
I decide to go with door number two.
Time to check out the bathroom and bedroom windows. I hightail it back to my bedroom suite. It’s more rustic-chic with lots of polished wood and glass. The bathroom has no window. There is one above the bed, though.
Bingo.
I leap onto the bed and peep out the window. The moment I look out, I notice something. Red dots of light on my chest.
Hells bells.
Now, we have really crappy television in Purgatory. Even so, I’ve seen enough cop shows to know that a red dot means someone is targeting me, and not in a nice way. I wave out to my mystery stalker. “Just checking the locks!” I give a hearty thumbs-up. “We’re good!” The red dots disappear.
Whew. These humans are touchy.
I climb off the bed and stalk around the cabin. Looks like there’s nothing to do but get ready for breakfast tomorrow. I head over to my backpack, where all my worldly possessions are. It’s going to be a long night.
15
I spend the rest of the afternoon organizing my backpack and getting to know my pricey prison-slash-cabin.
Pros: the place has fancy-smelling shampoo and a comfy bed.
Cons: the kitchen is stocked with kale and suffering.
There’s some stuff in the fridge that might be fruit, but it’s green and star-shaped. I keep waiting for it to sprout legs and ask for a fight. The mini-library has zero books about demons or battle tactics, so that’s a snore. And the dresser is stocked with plaid skirts, white shirts, and little blue jackets. Just to be sure, I also opened every cabinet. There is definitely no TV.
Dinner arrives at around six. Or, I should say, at six, a guard drops off a tray at my door, rings the bell, and runs for the trees. This is yet another sign that this place is more of a prison than a camp. And growing up, Purgatory was basically a prison for us quasi-demons, who were pretty much slaves to the ghouls.
Long story short, I know when I’m being kept captive. The question still remains, though. Why? Is it for our protection, to keep us from escaping, or both?
I take the tray inside. It’s been a boring afternoon, and I’m excited for a yummy meal to pass the time. Instead, I get a bowl of goop that looks like tiny ball bearings and snot. I think I saw Lincoln eat this once and call it quinoa.
What I wouldn’t give for a demon bar.
It starts to get dark, and I’m running out of ways to waste time. I decide to prep again for tomorrow’s search for the codex. The minute I’m able, I’m going to sneak out of class—always one of my best skills—and look around for the hidden book. I try to keep a positive attitude. It isn’t easy, though. Right now, I shouldn’t be locked in this damned cabin. Today should have been our first day in court. At this very moment, Lincoln and I were supposed to be putting Acca away forever. Trouble is, every time we get close to ending Aldred, he weasels away from us. The current situation is merely another example of how that creep is always one step ahead.
I’m being a total downer, and I know where my negative thoughts usually end up: with me eating my weight in ice cream and demon bars. Even so, there’s no junk food to be had in the cabin, so I decide to give myself a pep talk instead.
Don’t worry; it’s only Thursday. You have until tomorrow at 5 p.m. to find the codex and bring it to the Arbiter. You’re golden.
Aaaaaaaaaand the pep talk is a no go. I’m still freaking out. A day is really no time at all.
I try to remember what Mom would say in a situation like this. My “Old Mom” would freak out right alongside me. Not helpful. But my new “Presidential Mom” would tell me to get busy and take my mind off things.
I decide to go with Presidential Mom’s advice and get my stuff ready for breakfast tomorrow. This involves rearranging the already-perfectly-arranged junk in my backpack. That doesn’t take long, so I decide to try on my new—gulp—uniform. I hustle my cookies to the bedroom and close the window blinds tight. Those machine-gun-toting guards are out there, and I don’t want to give them a free show.
Hey, simply because I’m part lust demon doesn’t mean I’m an exhibitionist.
I scope out my closet and remove the nearest skirt. The good news is that it’s actually pretty silky, so that’s a plus. I get as far as my zipping up the skirt and adjusting my bra when a voice sounds from the bed.
“You’re killing me here, Myla.”
It’s Lincoln.
I spin around, and there he is. On my bed. Wearing my favorite body armor along with a look of all-out lust in his mismatched eyes. I soak in the sight of him. Messy brown hair. Cut cheekbones. Full mouth. Broad chest. My guy. It’s too awesome to be real. “How did you get in here?”
He arches his brows. “Expert hunter, remember?”
“I peeped out the window, and they had those little red dot thingies on me.”
“Don’t worry about that. I magically jammed all their machine guns yesterday.”
When he got here early. “You’ve been a busy guy. Is that why you missed my welcoming committee?”
“I had lots of little projects to do while the rest of the faculty were off greeting you.” He eyes me from head to toe. “And you’re still killing me.”
There are a million things I should worry about. Like what’s the real secret of Hemlock Island and the Wheeler Institute, not to mention how we’re getting our codex back. But right now? The only thing I can focus on is the energy that’s filling the air. I am part lust demon, after all. Heat pools behind my eyes, and my irises flare bright red.
Helloooooo, Lincoln.
Lincoln does one of those chin-nod things that only hot guys can get away with. “Come here.”
I slowly saunter over. With every step, my tail slinks from side to side in a predatory rhythm. Reaching the end of my double bed, I slowly crawl up Lincoln’s prone form. Warmth positively radiates from his body, which in turn heats my torso. I catch his gaze. I know how much my guy likes it when my eyes flare red, so I make sure they’re blazing.
“So, I’m killing you?” This is a bullshit question, of course. I totally know Lincoln is digging me in a little skirt.
His eyes darken. “Yes.” His husky tone sends a jolt right through my core.
Okay, then.
I straddle his waist, brace my arms above his shoulders, and lean in so close we’re almost kissing. “Are you calling your kiss now?”
Some small part of me says that it’s overly competitive to bring up the kiss thing at this point. More of me likes to win, so I just keep going.
Lincoln laces his fingers behind his head. It’s a move that shows off his broad chest and heavy arms, both of which he knows I love.
The bastard is competing, too.
“You mean, the kiss I won when we fought the dyads?”
“That’s the one.”
He grins. “No.”
I can’t believe this. “No?”
“No. You’re going to kiss me, Myla. And it won’t count toward ou
r bet.” He lifts his head until his lips almost-maybe-but-not-quite touch mine. His warm breath cascades over my mouth. My inner lust demon goes berserk. There is nothing in the universe but his mouth and my desire to taste it. Screw the damn bet and Lincoln calling a kiss. I want this.
I lean in ever so slowly and brush my lips against his.
“Yes.” Lincoln grips my hair and draws my mouth onto his, hard. We’re a tangle of tongues and desire. I can’t taste him enough. The straddling position is mighty nice, too. Lincoln’s firm hands can easily slide up my thighs and cup my backside. Any sense of control disappears. My lust demon is absolutely in charge, and it’s awesome.
Finally, I break our kiss. “I’ve made a decision.”
“Go on.” Lincoln kisses my neck, gently nipping my skin with his teeth. Damn, that’s good.
“I want to have kids.”
More kisses, this time behind my ear. “As do I.”
“Then, let’s start trying.” I grind myself against him. “Now.”
Lincoln cups my face with his rough hands. “You can’t imagine how much I want to.”
“Oh, I’ve a pretty good idea.” I wiggle against him a little.
A steely glint comes into his eyes. “We need to put this conversation on hold until we’re married.”
My lust demon roars inside me. Frustration heats my blood. “Why do we have to wait?”
Lincoln’s features are all ironclad control over a well of desire. “Now isn’t the right time.”
“You don’t strike me as the traditional kind of guy.”
A devilish smile rounds the corners of his full mouth. “I’m not. That said, we both know how your igni are. Once we have sex, you will get pregnant.”
“That’s not guaranteed.”
“Need I remind you of what your mother said?”
And that’s a mood killer. How can I forget Mom telling me grow she got pregnant despite the fact that Dad wrapped his junk and cast anti-conception spells? “No need, actually.”
“I want you. You know I do. But I won’t take the risk of starting a family until this whole issue of Acca is behind us, one way or another. By the end of day on Friday, the trial should be over and our family will be safe.”
“Oh, right.” I got so worked up, I forgot about that part. If we don’t find the codex in time, then Lincoln and I might end up in prison for a while. Separately. Being a solo pregnant inmate with a supernatural love-child isn’t my idea of fun. Mood killer part deux.
“This is only temporary, Myla. We’ll be together.” He slides his right hand across the bare skin of my shoulder. I shiver. The tips of his fingers outline the edge of my bra. For the record, I’m feeling pretty pumped that I wore some of the cute new undies that my best friend, Cissy, made me buy.
Lincoln’s fingers trail between my breasts and down my stomach. “There are still ways we can enjoy each other until the time is right.” He brushes a line along the waistband of my skirt.
My eyes flare so brightly I’m surprised they aren’t burning a hole in Lincoln’s head. I want to come up with some snarky reply. It’s all I can do to nod.
Yes. Let’s do that. Yes, yes, yes.
“Good.” Lincoln’s mouth takes mine again as his hand slides lower still. “We’ll have to stay quiet, Myla.”
“No problem.” Maybe.
Lincoln gives me one of those soul-shattering kisses that sets every nerve ending I have on fire. I soak in the moment and sensation. Most of my life is one unpredictable disaster after another. Times like these are rare, and so I value them all the more. The next few hours stretch out before me, filled with intimacy, touch, and delight. As I slide down into Lincoln’s embrace, I decide to enjoy these moments to their fullest.
It’s nearly one o’clock in the morning when Lincoln and I decide to move on from “lust demon time” and return to the whole “how do we get out of this mess” conversation. At this point, Lincoln and I are lying in my bed. Lincoln reclines on his back, his left arm arched behind his head. I snuggle into his right side. My inner lust demon is happy, especially since neither of us is wearing any clothing.
“So, you mucked up their machine guns?” I ask. “What else have you been up to while we’ve been apart?”
“They give faculty here a lot of leeway, so long as you stay on the south side of the island. I checked out the facilities and inspected what demon patrol systems Acca had put in place.” His mouth thins. “This is supposed to be their patrol territory.”
“I’m guessing they did a crap job.”
“They’ve done nothing. There are no protections for the humans out there. There should be charms and perimeters in place to discourage demonic activity. That’s what a decent demon patrol is all about. But here? It’s as if this land wasn’t ever covered by the thrax.”
“So what have they been doing here?”
“That’s the question. It hasn’t been protecting the human populace, that’s for certain.”
My mind turns over this piece of news. “That must be the rumors, or at least some of them.”
“What do you mean?”
“Prescott warned me not to discuss the rumors about the island.
Even if humans can’t see demons, they can sense danger. Some of the more sensitive ones can even catch a glimpse of something. Both Dad and Prescott said the island was rumored to be haunted. Who knows? What humans think of as ghosts could really be demonic activity.”
Lincoln makes slow arcs on my bare arm with his thumb. “You might be right. Some of the other teachers have been discussing the rumors as well. They say the same thing. The place is supposed to be haunted. That’s why the town is emptied out. In fact, I’m surprised they even have that old boatman to take people back and forth.”
“You know Acca better than anyone. Why do you think they’re slacking off on patrol?”
“Demons frighten humans, and scared mortals stay holed up inside, especially at night. Acca has probably been using the fact that no humans are around in order to make it easier to search for the coin.”
All this talk about the deserted town makes me think of Fish Stick Grandpa. “on the boat ride over, I learned something else that you might find interesting.”
“Hmm?”
“Prescott told me that’s an expert in Archangology, and the person who was asked him come work here? The Lady.”
“The same one Desmond and the dyad demons were talking about?”
“It’s a safe bet. Even worse, it all took place about six months ago.”
“Right when you put Armageddon in prison.”
“Which makes sense, right? That’s when the King of Hell really needed a way out, so he started hunting down Lucifer’s coin and Aldred. My guess? Once Armageddon and Aldred made their deal, the pressure was on to actually deliver a coin. Whatever half-assed searching that Acca had been doing needed to be kicked up a notch. I think that’s why Aldred called this mysterious Lady, and she called in Prescott to become headmaster.”
“What else did Prescott say about her?”
“Not much. She’s some kind of benefactor for the school.”
Lincoln sniffs. “She’s a benefactor, but it’s not for the school. Most likely, the Lady is helping Aldred and Armageddon.”
“Agreed.” I stretch a bit. “Must as I’d hate to say this, there’s only one way we’ll get past all this nastiness. Sneak around.” I kiss his bare shoulder. “Tell me you have a way to get us out of here.”
He winks. “I have a way to get us out of here.”
“That’s why I love you, Mister the Prince.”
“And I you.” He kisses me once, gently. “There’s been a lot of strange activity on the North side of the island. My guess? The Acca patrol is hiding out there. Those paths are guarded during the daytime, but it should be fairly easy to sneak in at night.”
“How very, very awesome then that it is nighttime right now.”
“Precisely.” Lincoln’s gaze turns intense. “Before we
leave, I need to tell you about the rest of my day.”
“Sure.”
“I spent a lot of time casting charms that will protect your cabin.”
I like where this is going. As much as I’m a badass, I do love it when Lincoln gets a little bossy and protective. “What did you do?”
“I added a magical perimeter around this place. Better than bulletproof glass.” He hitches his thumb toward the wall. “Those guards could lob a grenade at your window, and it wouldn’t leave a dent.”
“Anything else?”
“Nothing else for you.” Lincoln hoists himself onto his left elbow. “I’d like to have a discussion with your tail, though.”
I think back to the way my tail acted on the docks. Lincoln must have figured out that it was being surly and now? Somebody’s in trouble.
Instantly, my tail dives under the covers. It’s a total sucker for Lincoln, and it knows what’s coming. I tap the sheet. “Get moving. You know he won’t let it drop.”
Little by little, my tail slinks out from under the sheet. The arrowhead end points toward Lincoln’s face. This is it’s “I’m ready and listening” pose. I don’t see it often.
“Now then,” says Lincoln. “I’m sure you’re not happy here and therefore, you’re giving Myla grief. I want that to end. Do we understand each other?”
My tail’s arrowhead-end does its nodding thing. Yes.
Lincoln reaches his arm out. “Thank you.” My tail instantly winds around Lincoln’s arm, rubbing against him like a cat. I yank it away. Sometimes, my tail is such an attention hog.
“I guess we should get going.”
“Yes,” says Lincoln. “You’ll need to change into your dragonscale fighting suit before we go.” He leans back against the pillows. “I’ll watch.”
“Sure, you will.”
And watching isn’t all that he does. All of which is why we end up not sneaking out of the cabin until 2 a.m.
Sometimes, it’s good to be me.
16
It’s almost time to trek off to the north side of the island. I make a few last-second checks of my gear, including fiddling with the facemask of my dragonscale fighting suit. Once I pull this thing over my head, no one will see me in the dark. My tail bounces in a happy rhythm behind me. It seems like everyone is pumped to be leaving the cabin.
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