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“He told me you would be the one to deliver me to him—body and soul. ‘On a silver platter’ were his exact words.”
If black could burn, there would’ve been fire in his eyes. The darker shadow hovering around Jude swelled outward. “And how would I go about doing that?”
He edged closer, now only a foot away. My pulse raced.
“He said you’d seduce me because you couldn’t help yourself. He even encouraged me to do it, to, how did he put it? ‘Take a nice long ride.’” Bitterness leaked from every word, but I couldn’t stop. “Of course, he’d only let you fuck me the one time, because that’s all it would take to ‘taint’ me before I’d become his play toy forever.”
Jude gripped my arms, squeezing long fingers into bare flesh. “Do you think I would do that?” he asked, voice vibrating with fury.
I shrugged. His fingers clenched tighter.
“Fuck you and leave you for him? Is that what you think I’d do?” A vein pulsed at his throat that I’d never noticed before, but of course, I’d never seen this Jude—completely, absolutely consumed with burning hatred. It might have even matched mine.
My heart pounded furiously against my ribcage. I wanted to scream, but my instincts pulled me into a morbidly calm place. “Let go of me, Jude,” I enunciated softly. My eerily gentle tone spun him into madness.
“I couldn’t get you out!” He released me with a jerk. “I couldn’t fucking stop him!”
His fists came down in a thunderous crash on the mantel behind me. A resounding crack split the dragon down the middle, his jaw stretching in a grotesque yawn.
The silent aftermath made my quiet words even more cruel.
“No. You couldn’t,” I said, watching him try to regain control with his palms splayed on the wall above the mantel, his head bowed between broad shoulders. “And neither could I. Not until he held me down and possessed me, forcing me to relive my most painful past, showing me how easily he could take me and do what he wanted.”
Jude flinched, jerking upright, frozen in place. Horror bent his features into fearsome, hard lines. Whatever stormed inside of him was nowhere near what raged inside of me. But the truth cut deep, and I knew we would both bleed from this wound for a long, long time.
I walked away, went into his bedroom, and slammed the door behind me, locking it. Though he could sift in any time he wanted, I knew he’d get the message.
I stood in front of a mirror on the wall, staring at my reflection, hardly recognizing myself. Red-rimmed eyes traveled directly to the spot at my neck and shoulder where Danté had savagely bitten, seeming to suck the life right out of me. Nothing. No blood, no gaping wound, no puncture marks of any kind.
My fingers traced over the unmarred skin. I gazed as if hypnotized by my unblemished reflection, to my wrists where he’d bound me. How could I bear no trace of what he’d done?
But, of course, I did bear marks. You just couldn’t see them. I felt scraped and scarred on the inside where he’d poked tender, precious memories. He stirred old heartbreak and laughed at my pain. He toyed with me.
He would do worse if he ever had me truly in his grasp. The only way to stop the staggering pain he’d whipped through my body was to succumb, give him what he wanted. I knew now why other Vessels surrendered to their demon hosts.
My confident hope that no demon could ever possess me crumbled under the memory of Danté chaining my body and mind. I feared whether I could hold out if he caught me again. Would I then become his possession, a Vessel of darkness?
I jumped at the furious, bellowing yell and the sound of splintering wood, crashing glass and toppling furniture outside the bedroom door. I crept to the corner behind the bed, sank down, curled into a ball and wept for something precious that was irrevocably lost.
I awoke in semidarkness,jolting upright with a gasp, not knowing where I was. Nestled into the clean softness of Jude’s bed, under the covers, I was surprised he’d come in after all and tucked me into bed. The house was ghostly quiet. Had he left me here alone? Panic washed over me, sweat beading along my hairline.
He’d left his closet light on. I pushed out of bed and walked to it, wanting something more over my tank. I thumbed through his closet—leather and denim jackets galore, black slacks, a long trench.
“Someone’s afraid of color.”
Everything in monotones of black, gray, and brown. Wait. Except in the back. My hands brushed the delicate garment of soft yellow, my pulse quickening, for I knew what it was before I took it from the rack. My pretty blouse, the day Danté had disguised himself as Jude and forced himself on me the first time.
I’d tossed the bloodstained top in Jude’s trash, not wanting a reminder of that painful bite. But Jude had washed it clean of any mark of him, no blood at all, then kept the delicate blouse tucked neatly with his clothes. He’d even found and sewn the buttons ripped away by Danté.
Fresh tears slipped down my cheeks, but I swiped them away. Could Jude wash me clean? A darkness hovered inside where Danté had smothered me with his evil spirit, mocking memories I’d hidden from everyone. Even myself. Hands trembling, I put the blouse back, a fresh wave of loss burning inside.
I found a navy-blue hoodie and slipped it on, completely unable to imagine Jude wearing such a thing. Perhaps the great Master of Demons must travel in disguise sometimes. The hoodie dwarfed me, which was exactly what I wanted.
When I opened the door, I stood staring in shock. I’d forgotten about the violent crashes and noise I’d heard before I fell into a weary sleep. The mantel had been ripped from the wall, now in a heap of splintered fragments of wood. An ugly patch of unpainted, exposed brick framed the fireplace. Both lamps were shattered into tiny pieces on the floor. His overstuffed chair was embedded halfway through the large window overlooking the courtyard.
A slight breeze squeezed through the shattered glass, making a soft whooshing sound. Other than that, everything was still and quiet.
I peeked down the hall. The door to his room of weapons and antiques was ajar, but no light emanated through the crevice. I stepped in quietly, not seeing him. Still, I sensed him here.
