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I know what’s there.
Chapter13
Valtu
Ican’t believe my eyes.
Somehow the redheaded girl has gotten out of her cage. I know the wards I have holding those cuffs in place are strong, but unless she’s made of magic herself there’s no way she could have gotten out of it on her own accord.
And that gives me cause for alarm. Though she looks deliciously scared, breathing hard, with her wide green eyes, wearing just the sweater and panties, I have to wonder if she’s part witch. A witch is—
The demon appears behind her.
I stare at it, wondering what it’s going to do. Did it free her from the room? Was it just chasing her? Was this all for its own pleasure, a need to hunt? Or is it some backwards way of showing me that it can fuck with my possessions, even those I’m not sure I want to keep. The demon has slaughtered nearly every human I’ve had in this place.
“Well,” I repeat, my gaze flicking from the demon back to the girl. “How did you get out of there?”
“It,itfreed me,” she says, her voice shaking. She looks at me and then to the doctor. “This house is haunted.”
I let out an empty laugh. “You thought it wouldn’t be?”
“What do you mean it freed you?” Van Helsing asks. He’s keeping a safe distance behind me, as he should.
She gives her head a shake. “It cut off the cuffs and opened the door for me.”
Now this is hard to believe.
The demon starts to come toward her now, tired of waiting in the shadows. The girl’s body stiffens and shakes slightly from fright and for once I’m not really enjoying this. It’s not even about the mess that the creature would make in the middle of the living room, but that I don’t want to see it devour her before I get to chance to fuck her.
“What do I do?” she whispers, eyes darting around her, knowing it’s creeping closer.
“Valtu,” Van Helsing hisses at me. “Control it.”
“I can’t,” I say absently, watching as the demon stops right behind her and rises up on its back legs. It puts its inhuman claws over her shoulders, the tips of them pressing into the tops of her breasts, enough to draw blood that slowly darkens her sweater.
Christ on a bike.
Even though it’s drawing blood, it seems to be gentle with her, its movements delicate and controlled.
Possessive.
The redhead looks pained and is trembling in terror but I’m staring at the demon’s small red eyes, the empty inhumanness of them the epitome of cosmic horror.
Do you want her?I project toward it.Why? Why her? What makes her so special?
The demon doesn’t answer. It never does.
But it’s clear from the way it’s cradling her from behind that it does want her and it’s showing me how easily it can take what it wants.
A hot burst of possession runs through me. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt that way toward anyone. Controlling, yes, always, but I dislike the feeling of things belonging to me.
Except for the book, of course. There is no question that belongs to me.
And now, I guess, this girl belongs to me too.
“Get away from her,” I command, my voice a fist. “She is not yours. She is mine.”
The girl eyes me in surprise, a glimpse of that warmth in her eyes, that strange adoration that she has for me. She knows I’m trying to save her from a gruesome fate but I’m not yet sure she should celebrate.
