Page 40 of Virgil's Demons

She placed her hand over mine, leaning into my touch, her eyes softening as she shook her head again. "I'm fine, Virgil. Really." But there was something missing in her voice—something I couldn't quite put my finger on.

I exhaled, not entirely believing her but not wanting to push, not yet. "I don't understand," I muttered, mostly to myself. Mymind was a mess, the entire night was a blur, screams, the flashes of fire. I couldn't piece it together. I felt like I was grasping at shadows, and every time I thought I had something, it slipped through my fingers.

She tugged gently on my hand, pulling me to my feet. Her hands lingered on my shoulders, longer than necessary, grounding me but still keeping me off balance.

"We should go," she said softly.

I nodded, though the word felt hollow on my tongue. Nothing about this wasover. But she was here, in front of me, safe. And that had to be enough for now.

I wrapped my arm around her waist, pulling her close, needing to feel her next to me, needing to remind myself she was real.

Together, we stumbled out of the clubhouse, the weight of the night pressing down on me with every step. But that gnawing feeling? It didn't leave. It was just getting started.

Outside, the world had gone to hell. The maze had been burnt to the ground, firetrucks now lined up along the trail, most of the crowd had dispersed and gone home. Saddle approached us, concern in his eyes.

"Ya'll okay?"

I nodded. " For now. You need any help?

He looked at the mess. "I think we got it under control. Fire Chief's son calls something in and they get here fast."

"That's good."

He placed a hand on my shoulder. "You look like you just fought a battle. Are you sure you're good, brother?"

I nodded, seeing Bulldog coming toward us. Barythaya tensed slightly. "It's alright," I whispered to her, soothing her. I figured this had all been too much for her.

"You look pale as a ghost," Bulldog said, concern etched on his face. "This night has been a shitshow."

"Yeah, I can agree with that," I muttered.

"Is she alright?" He gestured at Barythaya, catching her gaze but she quickly looked down at her feet.

"I think it's time I take her home. I'll give you a rundown of the situation tomorrow."

Bulldog shook his head. "All I need to know is if whatever that was, should be concerning for the MC?"

I shook my head. "No. This is personal business and until I don't figure this shit out, I'd prefer you all stay out of it. What I'm dealing with won't be resolved with guns and fist fights, or burning down structures. I'm gonna need something a lot stronger to make this fucker spend all of its eternity chained in hell.

Bulldog glanced at Saddle but there was an understanding between us, and they both nodded. "You go on home then. You know we're here if you need us."

I nodded. "I appreciate that." I pulled Barythaya tighter to me, almost protectively, as we made our way to my bike.

"Are you sure you could ride?"

"Sweetheart, the only way I'll clear my head is if I ride. So hold on tight."

The wind howled as we sped away, leaving the chaos behind us, but the further we got, the more that nagging feeling clawed its way back in.

When we reached her place, a strange relief settled over me, but it was laced with something darker, something unsettling. I kept pushing it down, blaming it on the adrenaline, the exhaustion. I had her back. That was what mattered.

But the moment the door clicked shut behind us, Barythaya turned to me, her movements smooth, almost calculating. Her eyes, half-lidded and dark, locked onto mine with a hunger I couldn't quite place. Her lips curled in a slow, deliberate smile that set my blood on fire.

"I need you," she whispered, stepping closer until I could feel her breath against my skin. Her hands, cool and smooth, trailed over my chest, igniting that fire that always lit up when we were together.

It was probably all of the adrenaline coming to a peak, but her touch quickly sent a jolt of electricity through me, waking up every nerve in my body, and I couldn't help but groan. My hands instinctively found her hips, pulling her against me, craving the heat of her body. But as my fingers dug into her flesh, that unease flared up again. Something about the way she touched me, the way she moved—it feltdifferent.

"I need you too," I murmured, though the words came out rough, conflicted. But I couldn't stop myself. She was like a drug, and I was already too far gone.

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