Page 50 of Whispers of the Dead

I lick my lips and stay silent.

He's baiting me.

"Go on, calamity. Take it. Drown it all in the burn of alcohol."

The way he said it makes my stomach churn with shame. "No."

"No? Need help? Tip your head back, open your mouth, and I'll help you chase the demons away."

Tears cascade down my cheeks. For some reason, his seeing me, honestly fucking seeing me, has me filled with indignity.

"Come now," his other hand tips my chin, and the scorching heat of his touch burns my skin, "You have real-life demons now; let's not let the metaphorical ones distract you from them."

Real-life demons?

I'm still trying to make sense of it when he tips my chin up further, his grip on my jaw unyielding.

Curiosity builds in me, more urgent than my need to forget the past, and it goads me to turn and face him.

It wants to know what this self-proclaimed demon looks like. It wants more of his damning touch, more of his dark to drive away the shadows.

His lips skim my left ear, causing me to stiffen in his arms. His chest presses into my back, galloping my heart rate through the roof. "This shit will only make you sicker. It'll only make you complacent, a slave to its effects. You don't need it."

"Sometimes, I do. The shit in my head..."

He hisses, cutting my words off. "You're stronger than you think. Don't give this shit power." He throws the whiskey, and it breaks against the wall; the acrid scent fills the space, and I'm shaking, my jaw still gripped in his right hand.

His left hand presses over my belly, pulling my body into his heat further.

Then, a loud crash sounds upstairs, a thud in the night that breaks the otherwise stillness of the house.

Lucien's hand curls against my stomach. "You've woken the house, Seraphine. I fear it'll never sleep again."

"How did I do that?" I whisper.

"With the same power you've woken me with." His hands and presence pull away, and I turn, my eyes trying their hardest to see him in the pitch-black pantry.

Backing toward the door, I flick on the light to finally get a look at the man whose presence has been taunting me mercilessly since I set foot in this place, and I am baffled when there's no one standing behind me.