Page 33 of Feral Possession

“Stay?” she asked, using his favorite word.

He turned to face her, and she scrambled for a way to keep him there. Stimulating conversation was out. When he shifted to turn away again, she blurted, “Want to play a game?”

His dark brow arched. “What isss game?”

Her lips quirked. Who was the wily one now? “I’ll show you. Hold on a minute.” She shot to her feet, rummaged through her bag, and returned with a deck of cards. The more she engaged the demon, the greater the chance he’d reveal something about himself, regardless of his one-question deal.

“Sit.” She coaxed with a flattening of her hands. Warily, the creature lowered himself into a crouch.

Close enough. “The name of this game is five-card stud.” Vivian had been an ace poker player in her day and taught Dove everything she knew. At least, in this, Dove had the advantage.

She shuffled, dealt his hand, then gave the cards a shove, shooting them over the ward without crossing it herself. Shadow picked up his cards, eyeing them as though they were an anomaly. Next, he pressed one to his nose and sniffed. Apparently, they didn’t have cards where he was from. While this tidbit of intel was totally useless, at least it was free.

Let the games begin.

Marcus glared at his Chosen from beneath his cowl. For the first time since his accident, he was tempted to go without the hood so he could properly snarl at the chit. Surely, he’d misheard the confession she’d mumbled around a mouthful of food.

At his low growl, Ida hustled out of the kitchen, saying over her shoulder, “I’ll just tidy up your office.” Dove’s champion disappeared in a flash, square heels clicking, moving faster than Marcus knew the elderly anculus was capable.

Morning sunlight blazed through the windows, and he winced, narrowing his burning eyes. One of the sunbeams struck Dove’s far-from-angelic head, lighting her hair with a golden glow. She perched on a stool at the island, still in her nightgown and robe.

While he stared daggers at her, she nibbled a piece of toast slathered with something nauseatingly green. Bean sprouts stuck out of the goop like fungus. And mortals found the vampires eating habits disgusting.

“You agreed to what?” he snapped at his oblivious Chosen.

“I negotiated a deal,” she repeated in the same offhanded tone as she had before. “Thanks to me, your unwelcome tenant agreed to answer one question per appearance.” She sucked avocado off her finger with plump lips. He studied the act, for a moment distracted from his rage. But only for a moment.

“It will take far more to obtain what we need. You’ve tied our hands at a time when we cannot afford any delay.”

“It’s all in your perspective,” she dared to argue. “Without the arrangement, he could have refused to answer anything. This way he’s locked in.”

While she had a point, he still didn’t like her making decisions without his approval. “It isn’t your place to negotiate with the creature. You overstepped yourself. And you’ve yet to explain these.” He slammed a handful of gaudy plastic beads down on the kitchen island.

He’d awakened in his bed. Naked. Draped in Mardi Gras trinkets. An experience he’d not had until now. Part of him was relieved he didn’t wake up covered in blood. Again.

When Dove eyed the beads with a secretive smile, the grip he held on his temper slipped. He grabbed the colorful strands and threw them across the room. “Explain,” he roared.

“Jeez, okay, okay.” She winced, hunching her shoulders. “I taught your demon poker, and we played for beads. It was all very innocent, I swear.” She picked at her sprouts, gaze downcast. “Well, at least until we ran out of beads and switched to strip poker. He lost, by the way, only having one item to pony up.”

Her eyes rounded, and her cheeks glowed. “Boy, you can imagine my surprise. I mean, how was I to know you were commando under those pajama pants?”

Since his accident, none but his uncle’s scientist had seen him so exposed. That Dove would see him this way twisted his innards. “You taught it. To play. Strip poker?” he bit out.

“Well, yes. After he agreed to only answer one question, how else was I supposed to engage him? Would you rather I’d sung ‘Yankee Doodle’ while tap dancing?”

Gods save him. His hands curled, aching to wrap around her slender neck. Instead, he took a step back, exhaling through his nose. “Tell me you learned something with your ridiculous antics.”

She straightened, growing defensive. “I learned a great deal, thank you very much. For instance, I learned it wasn’t his choice to possess you, which leads me to believe there was a third party involved.”

Marcus rubbed his chin, his ire dwindling. Perhaps she did discover something of use. “I suspected as much.” There’s a chance Helen was that third party since she was responsible for his death. “Go on.”

“At one point, he grew angry and snuffed out all the candles in my room, though physically he didn’t cross the ward. With that kind of power, what we’re dealing with isn’t some run-of-the-mill spirit or the essence of a random dead dude. It’s a supernatural entity, the likes of which I’ve never seen before.”

“All the more reason to exorcise it quickly instead of playing games.” With so many responsibilities on his shoulders, he’d never had time for frivolities, not even in his youth. “What I need is to be free of the creature.”

“Look.” She huffed an exasperated sigh. “You are the demon. The demon is you. Technically, I cut a deal with you. It was either nail him down for one question or have zero answered.”

Her flippant explanation stoked an inferno at his core. Along with an unfamiliar burn of jealousy he didn’t care to analyze. His flesh pulled tight and he bared his fangs, closing the space between them. “The demon is not me,” he snarled. “I am not the demon. Better you keep that straight lest you end up a pile of splinters and broken glass.” Dove was his Chosen. No other creature had a claim to her but him.

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