Page 24 of Stolen By the Demon

“Unless I don’t feed you,” he teased again, earning him another box into his arm.

“So you’re not upset?” he asked, arching an eyebrow that told me he doubted I wasn’t upset.

“I don’t know yet what I am,” I replied honestly. “But I’m glad I’m here, that you’re here. Us.”

I moved out from under him. “I should use the bathroom.”

“It’s all yours.”

When she came out of the bathroom, we needed to do one more thing before we could relax. I needed to know what happened to her after Roger took her away.

“You first,” she insisted when I told her I wanted to put her under my spell again.

Darkness moved over my eyes and churned my blood at the memory of my darkest hour in Sir Jonathan’s basement.

I fought. I fought the hardest I ever had, but I was alone, and Adramalech had not only brought an army of demons, but he had also brought Dagon, another of my brothers. I might have defeated one of them, but not both and the army of demons they had brought. Still, I tried, injuring Adramalech and killing half of his army. In the end, though, they wrapped me in chains and brought me to my father to receive my punishment.

Three hundred years in hell, he declared, but the only thing that mattered to me was Blanche and the thought that in three hundred years, she would be long dead. In the meantime, she would entertain my father because I had failed her; she would bear him a son,.

Something nagged at the periphery of my mind at that memory, but my brain was too occupied with my reawakened emotions of despair to explore it further.

It was at this point that Adramalech informed me that Father had killed Blanche. “Did you really think Father would put up with your lousy seconds?” he taunted.

At the time, I didn’t know how important Blanche really was. The fact that I had defiled her would have enraged Father, but not enough to have her killed. So I believed Adramalech and tormented myself more than his demons could. Believing that it was my fault that Blanche had been killed.

She put a hand on my knee. “This wasn’t your fault.”

“It was, and the fact that you weren’t killed doesn’t make it any better, Blanche…”

She pressed a finger against my lip. “Shh, it’s all good now. We’re here, aren’t we?”

I kissed her fingers. “Yes.”

“Good.”

She settled herself and looked into my eyes, waiting for me to put her under my spell, and after a moment’s hesitation, I did.

Blanche

… I fought as much as I could, but in the end, Roger and his soldiers took me to the dungeons, where the man I had called Father for so long waited for us. Roger held me as Sir Jonathan approached and slapped me across the face. “I should have you flailed for what you did,” he thundered. “Do you have any idea what your escapade cost me?”

Having discovered his plans, I had an idea but refrained from answering, having experienced in the past how the wrong words enflamed his temper to degrees where he wasn't even coherent any longer. I had feared for my life many times when he had been so enraged, but not today. Today, I would have almost welcomed death because death would have most likely been preferable to what he planned for me. My eyes flittered around the dungeon, hoping to see Devon coming for me like an avenging demigod.

“Adramalech left, my lord.” A guard appeared, pulling Jonathan to the side and whispering into his ear. He listened intently with a gleam in his eyes.

“Good. We have one more chance at this, and I’m happy to inform you, daughter, that your lover is gone.’

His words cut like burning steel into my heart. Gone? How could that be? Could demons be killed? Wouldn’t I know it if he were dead? Feel it?

“That doesn’t matter. We’re still screwed,” Sir Roger, remarked gloomily, leaning against the iron maiden. A shudder ran through me at the thought of being impaled inside the murderous contraption. Then again, death sounded even better now. Maybe it would reunite Devon and me.

Jonathan laughed. “Ah, Sir Roger, why the gloominess? Don’t you think I would have a backup plan?” He tsked. “How many years have you worked for me? Ten? Fifteen? Where is the trust I should have surely earned by now?”

“I believe that would be my cue,” a female’s cold voice rang out as she emerged from the shadows.

“Your Grace.” Jonathan bowed deeply.

Sir Roger looked intrigued at the beautiful woman, whose sight sent shivers of dread down my spine.

---