"Why can't you go back?"
"Because we weren't supposed to be here in the first place. Something to do with the balance of power. I don't really know. Ace is the expert. Come on, ask me questions while you cook. You're looking skinny," he said, grimacing.
I should have stayed put.
I knew it was what was going to allow me to stay objective, to stay angry.
But I'd been in the room left alone with my own thoughts, going half-crazy, for days.
So I accepted.
And I found the pantry and fridge much fuller than the last time. I actually got to make myself boxed macaroni and cheese, eating the entire thing by myself while Daemon prattled on and on about his adventures since coming to "the human plane" a little over a year and a half before.
"Hey, Daemon?" I asked as he immediately started washing my dishes for me.
"Yeah, pretty lady?"
"Can you bring me to Ace?" I asked, then rushed to clarify. "He said that if I wanted to know more about, well, you know... all of you, that I could come to him, and he would tell me."
"I can do that," he agreed. "Here, you will probably need some coffee," he said, pouring two cups. "It's going to be a lot," he clarified.
With that, he led me through to the front of the house, passing the second mug he'd been carrying that I'd thought was his into my free hand. "And this is where we part," he said, giving me an encouraging smile. "Go get your education on," he added, giving me a little nudge before going back toward the kitchen, leaving me with nothing else to do but move into the library.
That was where I found Ace, sitting in on the tufted leather couch, wearing his usual grandpa sweater, holding a book open in his lap.
Seeming to sense my presence, his gaze lifted slowly, pinning me with his intense gaze.
It sounded completely irrational even in my own head, but I could have sworn he looked pleased. And relieved.
"I, ah, I asked Daemon to bring me here," I explained, shuffling my feet. "He made some good points that made me think."
"Daemon did?" he asked, brow raising.
"I was as shocked as you," I admitted, getting a lip twitch from Ace. "Is that for me?" he asked, nodding toward the extra mug in my hand.
"Oh, ah, yeah. Daemon made it," I explained, not wanting him to think I was thinking about him. Even though I absolutely had been, whether I wanted to or not. And when I tried to suppress the thoughts, they just came back with a vengeance when I fell asleep.
Moving forward, I held out the mug. When Ace reached for it, his big hand slid over mine. And I hate to admit it, but there was no denying the electric shock I felt through my system at his touch.
If I wasn't completely mistaken, Ace seemed to feel it too, his body stiffening, his jaw going tight. "So," he said, pulling the mug from my hand. "You want to learn."
"Yes," I admitted.
"Okay," he said, waving toward the other side of the couch. "Have a seat."
So I did.
And he launched into it.
Daemon had been right. There was a lot to it. So much so that we'd barely scratched the surface by the end of that first day.
By the second, I was actively asking questions.
By the third, the concept stopped feeling so scary because they were no longer so foreign.
And, really, it all threw a lot of what I thought I knew about the nature of good and evil on its head. Because, yes, there was hell and there were demons. But the purpose of that place and those demons was to make people pay in the afterlife for things they often got away with on Earth. A cosmic justice system, if you will. Demons didn't come to Earth to rape and impregnate us. Even though Ace and his club all did do evil work while they were here, all they did was bring the evil to the surface.
"No," he told me, shaking his head. "It doesn't work if they are mostly good. Everyone has a little bit of wickedness in them. But we don't deal in slashing your cheating husband's tires type of shit. The worst thing you have ever done is the nicest thing others have done. Look at it that way, and it isn't so scary. Everyone gets their comeuppance for being complete and utter dicks while they are here. And the punishment fits, too."
He'd touched on all of that as well. The circles of hell, the levels of torment.
"Where did you fall?" I asked, catching him off-guard.
"Hm?"
"When you worked down there, where did you work? Which level of evil did you punish?"
"Me and Ly and Bael, we all worked pretty high up. Serial killers and rapists were our forte."
"What is worse than that?"
"Pedophiles. Mass murderers. People who steal the parking space you were clearly turning into..."
A surprised laugh bubbled up and burst out, surprising us both. "Oh, my God. Was that a joke?" I asked, smiling.
"Things had taken a serious turn there. Figured I'd lighten it up a bit."
"Well, color me impressed. I wasn't sure you had a discernible sense of humor," I teased. "But I guess that makes sense. With you and Ly and Bael."
"How so?"
"Because you're all...colder," I decided. It was the kindest word I could come up with. "Whereas Aram and Seven and Daemon are almost more, I don't know, human. Where did Drex and Minos fit in?"
"Just below us. Wife-beaters, gang shit."
"But then what did Aram and Seven and Daemon deal with?"
"Oh, the other kinds of assholes most people deal with on a daily basis. Asshole bosses who cop a feel, those who abuse their power, people who could have helped others and chose not to. Lower level stuff."
"So, what about those who sleep around a lot or covet their neighbors' nice new car?" I asked, remembering certain rules very clearly.
"If you do it and you are repentant for it, you don't need to worry about us sticking hot pokers in your eye-sockets, Josephine. We handle the people who did what they did and don't give a fuck about who they hurt doing it."
And that was fair, wasn't it?
People who hurt others should have to pay for it.
For that to happen, those like Ace had to exist to exact that punishment.
No, he wasn't human.
No, he didn't have the same feelings as we did.
But that didn't mean he was someone I needed to fear.
You know, anymore than I had to with the whole kidnapping and held captive thing.
Though, let's face it, I wasn't being treated like crap—tossed in a basement somewhere and made to starve and freeze. Most of the bad things that had happened to me since "meeting" them were things I'd done to myself.
I had gone out into the cold and nearly died.
I had chosen not to eat and to sleep in the cold, hard bathroom.
I'd, technically, even been the one to hit my own head.
I wasn't trying to victim-blame myself, but all things said and done, they hadn't treated me badly. Honestly, I think I would have been much more abused at the hands of your average, everyday human kidnappers than I had been by the actual demonic ones I was stuck with.
"What are you thinking about?" Ace asked, snapping me out of my swirling thoughts.
"That for someone evil, you haven't done evil things to me," I admitted, shrugging.
To that, he leaned forward, putting his book on the coffee table, and I could have sworn he mumbled under his breath something that sounded a heck of a lot like I'm not sure I could even if I wanted to.
But he immediately spoke again before I could ask. "Is there anything else you want to know?"
"Are you going to kill me?" I asked.
There.
Point-blank.
It was the one question I'd had swirling through my head for days, weeks at this point, I think. It was getting harder to keep track of time.
I saw the answer to that in his jaw before he could even say it, making my stomach twist, my heart speed up.
"Don't," he demanded, reaching out to grab my wrist just as the thought formed to bolt, to run, to get the hell away from t
hem. Even if it meant dying by the elements. Better at my own hands than theirs, I felt. "You didn't let me answer."
"I can see the answer," I snapped, trying to pull my arm away, only managing to yank him forward, closer to me, towering over me as I leaned back against the arm of the couch.
"You can see part of the answer," he corrected.
"There is no part to this. Either you kill me or you don't, there's no in-between with life."
"The plan was to kill you," he admitted, making my heart squeeze in my chest, a tightness to close around my neck, cutting off my air. "But that isn't the... I can't do that anymore," he told me, shaking his head.
In that moment, I wanted to loathe him, this man who so casually considered taking my life.
But when I looked at his face, all I could see there was confusion and vulnerability, and maybe even something else. Something I didn't want to name because a part of me wasn't ready to accept it yet.
I swallowed past the lump in my throat, wetting my lips. "What changed?"
"You know what changed," he shot back, the grip on my wrist loosening a bit, his thumb stroking across the underside gently.
I knew it wasn't supposed to. I knew he was evil. I knew he should have repulsed me. But there was no denying that the soft touch sent tingles up my arm, then across my chest.
"There's... there's nothing," I tried to claim, but couldn't force my lips to spill the rest of the lie.
"Yes, there is," he countered. "There's something here."
"There can't be," I insisted, feeling his hand slip, fingers sliding between mine, lifting my arm above my head as his body shifted, his knee pressing between my thighs, forcing me to turn until I was lying on the couch, his body hovering above mine. Not touching, but so close. Dangerously close.
My damn traitorous heart fluttered in my chest at the intensity I saw in his eyes.
"There can be," he countered, leaning down, pressing his lips into the side of my neck. The shiver that coursed through me told me that while my mind was conflicted, my body most certainly wasn't. "If you want there to be," he added, teeth gently nipping my earlobe.
"It's not that simple," I insisted, feeling my brain already getting slow and foggy with desire as his tongue traced up my ear.
"What's complicated?" he asked.
"You're my captor," I reminded him, taking a measured breath, but feeling it shake in my chest.
To that, he pressed back enough to look down at me, his eyes glowing red with his desire. "If you want to leave, leave," he offered.
"You're not going to let me leave."
"You want to leave, go," he said, shrugging as he sat back on his heels. I felt the loss of his hand in mine more than I should have, enough to almost make me reach for his again.
"And, what, you'll chase me down?" I asked.
"No."
"You can't let me go. I know about you. I can tell people."
"You won't," he said, shaking his head.
"Why not?"
"Because you're not stupid," he said, giving me a humorless laugh. "These days, when people start talking about fucking a demon, they get sent to a psych ward."
He wasn't exactly wrong about that, was he? I'd certainly come across several delusional individuals in my time in emergency rooms. And when they muttered about things that didn't exist—or things I thought didn't exist—someone always called for a psychological evaluation, usually ending with a hold and, eventually, medication.
I couldn't help but wonder if I'd ever disbelieved someone when they'd told me their story, when it actually turned out to be true.
"I could go to people who would believe me."
"Good luck finding any these days," he said. "I've had actual conversations with holy people in my time. They never suspected a thing. And a lot of them these days don't take things quite as literally as they were once written."
"You'd really let me go?" I asked, searching his face for any small tell.
"I would really let you go. If you wanted to go."
Of course I wanted to go.
Right?
"At any time?" I asked, somehow knowing that right now was not it.
"At any time," he agreed. "I would even drive you to the airport."
"The airport?" I asked. "How far did you take me?"
"Across the country," he told me, tone unapologetic.
"I, ah, I wouldn't be, like, you know, be making a deal with the devil, right?" I clarified, deciding in a situation such as this, the fine print was very, very important.
To that, I got a smile.
An actual, genuine smile.
Not a smirk, or a sneer.
A freaking smile from this grumpy man.
"No, Josephine, your soul is yours to keep," he said, tone lighter than I had ever heard it, playful, teasing. And, damn, it was a beautiful thing from such a serious man.
"You promise?"
"Yes, I promise," he said, eyes going just the slightest bit soft. "So, we're agreed? You are free to leave at any time. But you're also free to stay as long as you want?"
The issue was probably important enough to require actual thought. But did I do that? No, no I did not.
"We're agreed," I said, giving him what felt like a wobbly smile.
But it didn't last long.
"Thank fuck," he hissed, coming down on me, lips sealing to mine. Hard. Hungry.
And with that, any thoughts about him being anything other than a man I desired slipped away.
There was no hesitation as my legs wrapped around his hips, pulling him more firmly against me, feeling his hardness press into me. I greedily writhed against him, needing the friction, as Ace's hand slipped under my shirt, cupping my breast as that growling noise I liked too much moved through him.
His forefinger and thumb closed around my nipple, twisting, squeezing, then rolling, making my hips buck up against him as the need for release grew.
"Ace," I whimpered, fingers dragging his shirt up his back, awkwardly yanking it up over his head, getting a little chuckle out of him as he pressed back again, looking down at me as he got rid of the shirt.
I might have been impatient for release, but I took my sweet time looking over his chest, his stomach, those muscles of his Adonis belt that disappeared into his pants.
I folded up toward him, my hands going to his pants, working them free, reaching inside, and pulling out his cock, slipping him inside my mouth before Ace could even guess my intentions, getting a surprised hiss out of him as I worked down his hard length.
His hand went to the back of my neck, keeping me deep, then thrusting into my mouth.
I'd always liked having control during oral.
But letting Ace have it? It was something forbidden and sexy.
My head tipped back slightly, my eyes opening, finding him watching me intensely as he fucked my mouth.
"Fuck," he hissed, taking a shaky breath. "No," he said when he tried to pull away and my hands sank into his ass to try to hold on. "It's my turn," he clarified, yanking back, grabbing the backs of my knees, and flipping me onto my back on the couch.
My pants and panties were off before I could even suck in a proper breath. Then his hands were spreading my thighs, and he was between them, devouring me with the same sort of enthusiasm as I'd felt for him.
He drove me right up and through my orgasm. Which, admittedly, didn't take very long at all thanks to the sleepless nights that I'd spent writhing around on my little couch having vivid memories of his hands on me, him inside me, leaving me feeling constantly turned-on and anxious for release.
Before the waves could even fully finish crashing, he was off of me, grabbing a condom, and slipping it on. Returning to me, his hands sank into my sides, lifting, and flipping me until I was on my knees, my hands braced on the armrest of the couch.
Ace's knee pressed mine apart, and then he was slamming inside me.
Hard.
Deep.
A surprised moan escaped me as his hand gr
abbed my hip, using it to slam me back into him as he began to thrust.
There was nothing slow or explorative about this.
This was pure, primal hunger.
And I was right there with him, my walls closing tight around his cock as he drove me quickly up to another crest.
His other hand shot out, closing around the front of my throat, using it to draw me backward against his chest, but his fingers stayed there, cutting off a small amount of air, just until my face felt warm, my lips a little tingly.
"Come," he demanded, voice as rough as my nerve endings felt, poised there at that precipice for an agonizing moment before shoving me off of it, leaving me free falling into my orgasm, crying out his name as I came, feeling Ace's body jolt as he came with me, the tips of his talons digging into my throat.
I thought it would sicken me to feel that Change again, bringing back the horror and confusion of the last time.
But instead, I felt another small surge of waves move through me, leaving me gasping for air as Ace's arms went around me, holding me to him, or I was sure I would have face-planted forward.
My breathing was ragged as I leaned my head back against Ace's shoulder. A smile tugged at my lips as Ace leaned down and pressed a sweet kiss to the side of my head.
Ace.
Sweet.
They were two words that shouldn't have gone together, yet there was no denying that they did. Just this once, at least.
"We have to move," I said a moment later, feeling some semblance of order returning to my body.
"No, we don't."
"Someone could walk by at any moment," I reminded him.
"So?" he asked. "Hate to break it to you, Josephine, but anyone in the house just heard you cry my name when you came, so everyone already knows."
I felt the warmth flood my cheeks at the idea of them hearing me, knowing what we were doing. Even if I'd heard several of the others going at it with women in my short stay at their house.
The Healer (Seven Sins MC Book 2) Page 13