Page 52 of Grabbed By the Guard

I was a guard.

And now? I will be Duke Haures’s prisoner once more.

CHAPTER 19

SIERRA AND DAGON

BILLIE

I’m shocked. There’s no other way to describe it. My head is whirring, I’m listening to Sierra tell me all about how she met her demon mate, and I know I’m making all the appropriate responses—“A grimoire in your fan mail? Who sent you that?” and “See? That’s why I can’t leave you alone. Summoning demons while I’m away from the weekend… that’s so Sierra.”—but I’m trying to figure out what this means, why is she here, and how does this change things for me and Glaine.

Because I have to be real here. Sometime after coming to Nuit and moving into his house, I started to accept that I might never go home. And I wondered: would it be so bad if I had to stay? Maybe if I was still in the dungeon, but I have a male who worships the ground I walk on in shoes because I finally have shoes, who loves me, and who—damn it—is the perfect guy for me.

He likes that I’m a ballbuster. That I need to have some kind of control. It took a while for him to realize that we get along better when he does, and as a soldier who is trained to be commanded, the two of us enjoy the other’s company when we’re not butting heads.

The sex is amazing. I’m not just saying that to boost his ego because he was an inexperienced virgin with seven centuries of pent-up need. To him, a good session is when he gets me off repeatedly, and if he has the chance to nut, he gets this expression on his face like he wants to thank me.

Glaine is fascinating. I think I like that more than his dick, though I’m definitely not complaining there. Not only does he have seven hundred years’ life experiences, but he’s the rare Sombra demon who got to leave his plane and visit countless others.

I thought I had him beat, having spent most of my life traveling all over the world. That’s just one. Glaine’s seen so many, and he tells me all about them. He doesn’t make me feel stupid, either, or that he’s humoring me when I get excited and ask him questions. Though I know he’d rather me rely on his essence—and I have been lately because, well, why not—Glaine enjoys teaching me about all the worlds he’s been to, with the unsaid promise that, one day, maybe he can bring me.

Who knows what forever will bring, right? We’re on Duke Haures’s shit list now, but if I bond myself to Glaine and become immortal… who knows if he’ll change his mind?

Because, honestly? I’ve been thinking about changing mine.

It was a slow process. And I’m sure people would think I was nuts when I said that me spending, like, a month debating whether I wanted to give Glaine forever was a slow process. But in a realm where demons and demonesses usually are bonded the same night they recognize that they’re one true mates, keeping Glaine on my hook this long without giving him the mate’s promise is unusual.

I just… it’s not that I don’t want to. I do. The more I’ve involved myself in village life, the more I’ve said my goodbyes to my old life. I mourned Sierra. I’ve regretted that, after being my father figure for so long, Roy won’t have any idea what happened to me. And Three… I miss my fluffy boy. But I could deal. I have Glaine. I’ve forgiven him for stealing me, and I’m actually kind of glad he did.

For the first time in years, I’m living my life for me. Not to get out of poverty, not because I signed a contract, and not because I was responsible for Sierra’s. There are no calls on my time. I still get distracted sometimes and reach for my phone, as though I want to jot a note or snap a picture, but it’s been a while since I’ve even thought of my former lord and ruler, the almighty schedule.

Which is why, after Sierra tells me the Cliff’s Notes version of her story, and I go into autopilot to tell her mine—“I knew that guard demon had to take you! You never would’ve left your phone of your own free will!”—I gloss over much of it, feeling like I spend more time defending Glaine’s actions than explaining to Sierra that, if she’s happy with her mate, then so am I.

But then she asks, “How long have you been here with him,” and I realize that I… I don’t know. Not really.

Ah, jeez. That’s a good question. In New York, I lived my life by that calendar on my phone. Every single minute or every single day was planned down to the second, with every appointment marked down in my app. Ninety-nine percent of it had to do with my career as Whiskey Rose’s manager where I couldn’t risk screwing up because Sierra depended on me.

It honestly took days before I stopped automatically reaching for the phone I left behind when Glaine grabbed me. Even now, I still feel a little naked without it. I don’t think I’ll ever stop the habit of looking for my phone when I want to know something as simple as the time, and when Sierra asks me about how long I’ve been here, it rankles that I have no clue at all.

The village counts by cycles of the gold moon. We have another one coming up soon, but it seems a little longer than thirty days since the last one. I just… I guess I got so wrapped up with learning about life in Sombra—and living with Glaine—that I never bothered keeping track.

“A month, I guess. Give or take.”

“Are you fucking with me?”

I shake my head. “I wish I was. I’m sorry,” I say, the first time I apologize. But I need to. “You were probably so worried about me. I said I was coming home, I left my purse and my phone behind, but I was gone with no way to contact you. I had no idea that you had a demon in the apartment”—and I pointedly forget to mention that I thought the door was closed because of Jared—“or that you’d know I was here… but I have been every seen Glaine grabbed me.”

“And I have a thing or two to say to him about that,” Sierra says darkly. “But that’s now what I meant. Me and Dagon, We were only back home for two days, finishing up…” Sierra’s eyes dart to the left where her demon is still holding onto the clear bubble carrier that’s holding a very sleepy Three. “Stuff. Had to get Three ready,” she adds hurriedly before I can call her out on obviously hiding something from me, “and then Dagon took us to Caol to start our search for you.”

“I wanted to show Sierra off the my clan,” the demon says.

“And the tattoo that Duke Haures arranged for you to get before he let us leave the throne room,” Sierra adds.

As if I could pretend my best friend isn’t bonded to the red-eyed demon. The proof is in the pudding—or, in this case, the shimmering silver runes tattooed to the middle of his bare chest that spell out her name.

S-I-E-R-R-A.

“Anyway, when no one in Caol heard of a rogue guard and his human captive, er, mate,” Sierra amends at my sudden look, “we visited two nearby villages. Nothing. Duke Haures told us that some kind of magic was keeping you hidden the first time I met him, but I went back to more intel. That was this morning. We left our suitcase and Three’s food at the palace, then hitched a ride with that purple-eyed wiz to Nuit to see if the rumors were true and you were here. I swear, it couldn’t have been more than a week for us.”

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