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I fought the urge to tear my skin away from my ribs to dig the enchanted object out. To distract myself, I entwined my fingers around each other, holding on so tight my hands ached. How powerful is this thing in my chest? And suddenly, I realized I have an even more important question, one I must ask aloud. “Does that mean you’re a demon?”
Dagon drew his lips into a tight line. “It would seem so.”
I glanced at the four walls and realized there were no windows in the office, so the room without lights would be in total darkness. Then I glanced at the floor again, and the odd angles of the inlay intersected my high school geometry. I’m sitting smack dab over an inverted pentagram.
Holy shit.
Or rather unholy shit.
Keep your cool, Elena.
“Well, I would’ve expected getting possessed by demon magic to feel a lot ickier.”
He laughed, and the sound appeared to startle him as much as it did me, and his eyes twinkled with evil mirth.
“It’s just magic, Elena. It’s who can use it, and what they can do with it, that makes magic what it becomes. It’s a matter of choice. That is all.”
I pointed to my chest. “And what can this thing inside me do, then?”
“Nothing.” His grin continued to light up his face, turning his eyes more gold than brown. He placed his elbows on his desk and steepled his hands, visibly warming to this subject. “Unless we enter a pact. Then, for as long as the mark remains, we’re connected.”
“Oh, yeah, that’s the part you knew I wouldn’t like.”
“Correct.”
“Why do we need to be connected?”
“Because it gives me equal control over the dweomer, and with practice, and enough time connected, I can call it to me without harming you.” His eyes held a challenge, as though he was daring me to take the bait.
I took a deep breath and expelled it slowly. I’ve never heard of this, and I don’t like taking Thorn’s word for it. But I also had no one trustworthy I could go to for answers on something like this.
Unexpectedly, I had a brief flashback of waking up in his bed the first time, before I knew he was the mysterious Mr. X.
The desire had been real. His magnetism wasstillas real as before, but this thing in my chest was drawing me to him like a moth to flame. It was confusing shit in my head, and I needed to stay clear if I intended to survive.
“I need to think about it.” It was the best answer I could give.
He nodded with his face a mask of compassion, all the joy at my expense gone, as though he might actually feel sorry for me having gotten mixed up in this whole situation.
“You should take as much time as you need. The mark is harder to get rid of than the Hand of Belial.”
The Hand of Belial, huh? My gaze drops to my lap. No wonder it seemed vaguely shaped like a hand. At least with a name now, I can do a little research, such as it is, without access to the pack library.
“I can see the wheels turning in your head, you know. Whatever you need, I’m still your best resource, and I won’t lie to you. At least, not under contract. I might not have a boss, but I do have laws I can’t break.”
“What are you?” I meant to ask who, but I didn't correct myself. Somehow, “what” feels right, so I don’t correct it.
“I said that I won’t lie. I didn’t say that I’d simply answer anything you ask.” He pursed his lips as though my question was gravely serious.
“Very well. Then, for now at least, no thank you to the offer to bind myself to you. I’m not prepared to bind myself to an unknown.”
He stood abruptly, and confused, I followed his lead. I’m not finished with my questions, but he’s apparently finished with me—for now.
“So that’s it? Do I have to worry about you killing me in my sleep now?”
He laughed again, and in the blink of an eye, he was breathing on my neck with a fiery, demonic breath, his fingers wrapped around my throat, my back pressed to his chest. His other arm circled my middle and pushed me against him hard, and my mind reeled.
“If I decide you need killing, I won’t need to wait until you’re sleeping, Elena.”
