I gasp, terror icing my veins. I’ve never seen a supernatural do that. Even a vampire.
For a few seconds, I’m frozen in place. Chest heaving as I struggle to take in air, I can only stare.
“You see, the three of us are quite the experts on sin,” he says against my stunned silence. He’s grinning now, thoroughly enjoying my reaction. “We are demons, after all.”
Demons.
“Fuck…” I rasp. I’m in more trouble than I thought.
This is bad. Really, really bad.
The demon's hand shoots out and grabs my chin—hard—forcing my face closer to his. With his eyes still inky black, I can’t tell what he’s looking at, but his mouth is so close to mine, I wonder if he’s going to kiss me. My heart hammers behind my ribs.
“You have quite the wicked mouth for a young lady,” he whispers.
Wanting to help, Sayah pushes for release, but I internally shove her back in place. That’s what he wants. He’s trying to tempt me, scare me into revealing myself. I can’t give in.
Instead, I give him a sickly-sweet smile. “Why thank you.”
He holds me like that for another long moment, his lips hovering over mine, his strong grip on my face unwavering. Then, unexpectedly, the blackness of his eyes slithers away from his natural icy blues and he releases me.
Seeming disappointed, he steps back, turns on his heel, and walks away, slamming the door closed behind him as he leaves.
Alone again, I rub the pain from my jaw and try to make sense of what just happened. My racing pulse is still a thundering echo behind my ears.
Demons… My captors are demons? Like, from Hell? I’ve heard of them, but I’ve never seen one. All I know is that they prowl the night, making deals in exchange for souls to devour. It's what gives them their power. And with that power, they are feared by all.
And now, I’m their prisoner.
Shit. Things just got way more complicated.
Cain
Aria has power. It’s so strong that it buzzes under my skin, and I can taste it under my tongue. Something dark and familiar, but I don’t know what. Not yet anyway, but I will.
Whatever is inside her, it calls to me and that definitely wasn’t what I was expecting when Ramos brought a woman to our home instead of the warlock that was promised. He claimed to have smelled something in her blood, but I had to judge for myself. What I’d found only confused and aggravated me. And, if I was being honest, intrigued me.
After living on Earth for over a century, not much surprised me anymore. But this woman… this Aria… she did.
Ordinary? She was anything but.
She was unmistakably beautiful, with inky black hair and matching dark eyes, but those things could be overlooked at first. The world is full of delectable women, and I’ve had my share of the spoils over the decades. But when she dared challenge me, despite the obvious danger she was in, it became clear I’d misjudged Ramos’s decision to take her.
Now, as I give the guard at her door a nod and walk away, I can’t seem to get the image of her out of my head. The way the thin fabric of her nightdress clung to the curve of her breasts, cinching down to her waist and tumbling to her ankles. I can still smell her scent and it brings with it thoughts of claiming her. Then there was that quick, biting tongue of hers. Remembering the look of shock and lust in her eyes as I held her close sent a twitch straight to my cock.
No one has gotten a rise out of me like that in a long time.
The clang of the dresser opening and closing in her room echoes even out here in the corridor. Whatever power she possesses can be of value to us. The potential danger is just as exciting as the rest of her.
Tonight we were meant to feast on a warlock’s soul. The power would have been incredible. I don't know yet if we gained a fair exchange with Aria, but time will tell.
I make my way down the main staircase to the front parlor where I know Dorian will be. The entire way I am tortured with images of my fingers curling around her silky, raven hair and exposing her throat as I plunge into her. If she stays, that's where we'll end up and there is too much to be done. She couldn’t have come into our lives at a worse time; I can’t afford distraction.
The blaze in the fireplace crackles and spits into the metal grid, roaring like a dragon. I find Dorian where I expect him to be, lounging on the leather sofa in front of the flames. Two of his latest victims sit on their heels near him, completely naked and awaiting his orders. As an incubus, or lust demon, it’s not uncommon to find him occupied by a woman that he’s lured in to temporarily sedate his unquenchable desires. Unlike him, I’m tired of the repetitiveness of it all, and their presence does nothing but annoy me.
"Leave this place," I bark at them, my voice echoing against the stone walls.
As if snapped from a spell, their heads jerk upward, panic scribbled over their faces. Seconds is all it takes for them to scramble to their feet and rush down the hall.
"You spoil everything," Dorian murmurs at me with a boyish pout. "I would have let you have one if you asked nicely."
"We need to talk." I stand by the fireplace. Heat envelopes me, and I bathe in its presence. I miss our home, the scorching heat of the underworld, where I’m meant to rule. It’s where I should be now, sitting on the throne my wretched father still occupies. We should be in control of all of Hell now, of every damned soul, not lurking in the shadows of the living.
Our failure pinches. Even after all this time.
Dorian reclines, his arms stretched out on either side of him along the back of the couch as he crosses one leg over the other. "It's about our new plaything, isn't it? I told you to let me go see her first if you wanted her to obey."
I clench my fist on the mantel, sick of his shit. "We don't need you hypnotizing her into another one of your sex puppets.”
“If she’s really that powerful, why don’t we just dine on her? Absorb that power?”
“No.” It comes out too fast, and I instantly regret it.
Dorian leans forward, eyes wide, suddenly interested. “She’s done something to you,” he says and then laughs, slapping a knee. “My word, she’s baffled you. I never thought I’d see the day. The great Cain, son of Lucifer. Demon of Pride himself, and she’s got you smitten. A woman.”
“Don’t be idiotic,” I snap. “And she isn’t just an ordinary living woman. She’s… different.”
“Different? What do you mean?”
“There's something else to her, something I can't work out. A darkness in her aura… I can feel it."
Brows furrowed, Dorian places his elbows on his knees. "So what is she?"
“I've never seen this before, and that is what has me...”
“Captivated,” he finishes.
“Curious,” I correct. No one has ever bewitched me before; I’m not about to allow it now.
"Ramos said he sensed a power in her, but I assumed she was a spellcaster. Or shifter. The usual,” Dorian says.
Clenching and unclenching my fist, I think about her face in my hand and what would’ve happened if I’d given in and kissed her like I’d wanted. Maybe then I could have deciphered what she was by tasting her.