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I could take my shot.
But what would his death accomplish? Dead men could tell no secrets…like the way out of here.
But if he tried to force himself on top of me, I was aiming for the jugular.
I stepped inside the cabin, the white Christmas lights on above my bed.
He was seated in the chair at the bedside, in the same position as when he sat in his high-backed throne.
I’d been alone with him before, but it was a lot more unnerving when it was in my bedroom. The doors were closed, blocking Beatrice and Claire from sight, not that they could help me if it came to that anyway.
I shut the door behind me and approached the bed, unsure what to do.
He moved the chair right up next to my bed, like a therapist that expected a patient to lie down and share their pain.
I was frozen in place, afraid to lie down, afraid to put myself in a compromising position.
He watched me, the lights reflecting on the surface of his eyes as if there were a Christmas tree in the room.
“What do you want from me?” I pierced the silence with the question, afraid of the answer.
“Sleep.”
Sleep? He expected me to lie there and just doze off while he sat there? This guy really was psycho.
“I want to watch my an-gel sleep.”
Not gonna happen.
He gestured to the bed.
I was sick of playing along with this ridiculous game. I wanted to say no, to have my rights, to say that he was a freak that deserved to burn in hell. But I had to placate him, give in over and over, because my life was always on the line.
So, I sucked it up and lay there on my side, my wings behind me, my face toward him.
He settled comfortably in the chair and stared.
Even if I closed my eyes, I couldn’t sleep.
I couldn’t sleep until he was out of the room—and far away from me.
11
Constance
Rebecca stepped into the room.
But not mine.
“Your demon awaits.”
I looked through the open doorway to see Beatrice sitting on the bed, her daughter on the floor playing with her toys.
Beatrice shifted her eyes to me, like she didn’t know what to do.
Rebecca followed her gaze, and when her sight settled on me, she instantly looked furious. She closed the panels between us, an audible lock clicking into place. “Grab your wings, Angel.”
There was silent shuffling as Beatrice got dressed.
“Mom, where are you going?”
The fact that there was a child here made this place so much more horrific.
They shouldn’t have taken her.
“I’ll be back in a little bit,” Beatrice said.
I moved to the closed panel. “I’ll be here right here, Claire. Just keep playing with your toys, and your mom will be back before you know it.”
The footsteps sounded as they left the room. The door shut.
I sat at the edge of the bed and released a sigh, knowing what was in store for Beatrice. She would see her demon, and he was probably just as fucked up as mine. Laura told me some of the demons were worse than others…and she had a good one.
I hoped Beatrice had a good one too.
I guess Forneus would be classified as good…relatively good.
A couple minutes later, I heard the door open.
But it wasn’t my door.
My ears strained, listening for every little sound on the other side.
There were footsteps. Slow footsteps.
Claire was silent.
I launched myself out of the bed and moved to the closed panel. “Claire? Who’s there?”
She was quiet.
I pressed my ear to the door, listening.
More footsteps.
“Claire, answer me!”
“A…a monster…” Her sweet little voice was strained with silent tears, like she was too scared to even cry.
Malevolent.
I shoved my shoulder against the panel, trying to break it down, but it barely vibrated under the force of the collision. “Get away from her, you motherfucker!” I slammed into it again, and when that didn’t work, I tried to yank the panels apart. “Swear to fucking god…”
Claire’s voice grew weaker. “Leave…leave me alone.”
“Aghhh!” I slammed my fists into the wood, the adrenaline kicking in. I dashed to my mattress and pulled out the dagger hidden underneath. My eyes moved to the front door. The doors are always unlocked. You’re free to come and go as you please. I sprinted out the door and into the other room, seeing the Malevolent on one knee in front of her, holding a pill in his hand. He held it out like candy, pushing it toward her as she crawled away, sobbing silently.
I moved at a full sprint.
When he heard me, he looked at me over his shoulder through the holes in the skull so I could see the terror flash when he saw the dagger. His fingers immediately closed over the pill, and he lunged at me.
I didn’t think.
It was all instinct.
I had to protect her. Nothing else mattered.
