Page 37 of Possess Me

And I know that I’m once again truly me.

I throw myself into his arms, and he wraps me in his embrace, holding me close, our hearts beating together, as one. As we should be.

15

“Nikki,” he says when we finally pull out of our embrace, but not so much that we completely break contact. If I had my way, I’d never stop touching him again. “Oh, god, Nikki, I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” I whisper. I’m kneeling on the bathroom floor, my palm stroking his cheek, my fingers tracing a pattern on his arm, as if any break in contact will start the nightmare all over again. “But I don’t—I don’t think I fully understand. Was it really Vivien? Was she inside me?”

“She was. Her essence, anyway.” I see him shudder. “And Basil was, too. But only a tiny bit of him. She was protecting you. She saved you.”

I shake my head. “You saved me. Or maybe you both did. But I saw you fighting. I could see that you were fighting the demon inside you.”

I close my eyes, wishing I could block the memory. But at the same time I want to know. To understand. “Do you know what happened? How it happened? How we won?”

He lifts our joined hands and kisses my palm. “I know,” he says. “I know, because it was still me. Somewhere inside, it was me.” He cups my cheek, his face like a mask of pain. “I wanted to hurt you.” His voice cracks, and I tighten my hands around his. “God, Nikki. Even as I tried to protect you, I wanted to hurt you.”

The anguish in his voice squeezes my heart, and I brush a whisper-soft kiss over his lips. “No. Not you. The demon inside. And you fought it, Damien. You fought, and you won.” I smile, just the tiniest tug at the corner of my mouth.

“I know,” he says. “But if we hadn’t won—baby, it would have been me who killed you.”

Hot tears stream down my cheeks as I squeeze his hand. Hard. “No. Never. We both know you could never hurt me. And today you saved me.”

He brushes a tear away with his fingertip, his touch so gentle I think I might start crying in earnest.

“We saved each other,” he says. A hint of a smile touches his lips. “You had the strength to destroy the bracelet.”

I glance at my now-bare wrist. “You understand all of it, don’t you? About the bracelet. About Basil. You know because it was in you.”

His throat moves as he swallows. “Yes.” It’s barely a whisper, yet the word is full of pain.

“Tell me.”

It’s clear he doesn’t want to talk about it. But at the same time, I can see that he understands that I have to know. I watch as his shoulders sag, but he lifts his chin and meets my eyes, and I know he will tell me everything.

“The bracelet is ancient,” he begins. “It was found centuries ago, and kept mostly in museums. The demon was already tied to it, and it manipulated those who came in contact with it, finally getting it in an auction and pushing Carlton to buy it for Vivien.”

“Why her? Why them?”

“Carlton wanted power. Vivien had it—there’s power that comes in being a star. But he was almost invisible next to her.”

“He turned to the occult?”

Damien nods. “He brought forth the demon. Released it from the bracelet. He had no idea what kind of door he was opening. No idea that the demon would slide into the house as well. That it would manipulate him. Torment Vivien.”

“A door to hell,” I whisper, then shudder. “And Vivien’s soul stayed on to fight it.”

He nods as I blink back tears. “That’s enough,” I say. “I don’t need to hear the rest. It’s too sad, and I—”

“Aaaaaeeeeeeeiiiiiiiii”

I almost jump out of my skin at the loud, guttural cry. Damien leaps in front of me at the same time that Franklin fills the bathroom doorway, his arms out-stretched, palms on either side of the doorway. His clothes are covered with shards of glass, and I realize he must have been standing outside when the window blew out. His eyes burn blood-red, and his body is bloated like a caricature balloon filled to almost bursting.

His lip curls as his eyes meet Damien’s. “You fool,” he sneers in a low, grating voice that is barely recognizable as Franklin’s. “You had the power inside you, and instead of embracing it, you fought it. Forced it out.”

“Don’t do this, Franklin,” Damien says, his voice tight with control. “Fight it. We can help you.”

“Fool. Don’t you see that this was what I wanted all along?”