Page 25 of Unholy Fate

Ian materialized first. “Priest.”

Hudson’s head snapped up, his eyes wide and searching. I could see the moment he began to see us, the subtle shift in the air, the prickling sense of wrongness that crawled across his skin.

“Who’s there?” His voice wavered only slightly, a valiant attempt at bravery.

Ian stepped into the lamplight, his form shimmering at the edges, not quite solid. His grin was slow and deliberate, apredator toying with its prey. I followed, positioning myself slightly behind him, my expression carefully blank.

Aziz appeared last, lounging against the wall with a casual arrogance. He looked for all the world like he was paying a social call, but I could see the barely leashed desire for violence.

Hudson’s face drained of color as he took us in, but to his credit, he stood his ground. “What do you want? Who are you? How did you get in here?” he said, quite a bit steadier than I would’ve expected.

Ian tilted his head, considering the priest with a cold amusement. Ignoring all his questions, he smirked at him with cold malice. “You hurt her.”

Hudson’s brows knit together. “Hurt her?” From the look on his face, a hundred questions must have flashed through his mind in a few seconds, then, realization dawned on him. “Evelyn? Her…her head? No, I didn’t mean?—”

Aziz cut him off with a chuckle, low and dark. “Oh, we know. You didn’tmeanto. You’ve only ever been kind to her, right?”

Father Hudson nodded his head frantically. “Yes. I’ve only ever tried to guide her, to help her. I would never harm her.”

Ian’s expression sharpened, a blade poised to strike. “Oh, but you did harm her, didn’t you? You touched what wasn’t yours to touch.”

Hudson shuddered, his eyes widening as my thoughts slipped into his head. “Please,” he said, “ “I don’t understand. What are you talking about?”

Ian glanced at me, a silent question in his eyes.Shall we begin?

Father Hudson’s screams echoed off the stone walls as Ian’s power surged through him, searing every nerve ending with white-hot agony. I watched impassively, even as a dark satisfaction curled in my gut. The man jerked and shook, clamping his hands on the armrests of his chair, cords standing out on his neck and forearm as agony burst through him.

Beside me, Aziz’s face shone with sadistic glee. He always did enjoy a good torture session. I could practically taste the waves of lust rolling off him as Hudson writhed and pleaded.

“Please,” the priest gasped, “please, make it stop. I’m sorry, I didn’t know?—”

As the priest slid from his chair to the floor, crying out in pain, my thoughts drifted back to Evelyn. The way her face had looked so serene, so innocent, even with the angry burn marring her skin. The way her body had shifted under the covers, caught in the throes of the dreams Ian had woven for her.

Why does Lucifer care so much about her?The thought rose unbidden.Why does it matter what happens to one little human?

“Enough playing,” Ian said. “It’s time to make sure the priest doesn’t interfere again.”

Tendrils of energy flowed from Ian’s body and into Hudson’s prone form, still lying crumpled on the office floor. The priest’s body convulsed, his eyes rolling back in his head as the possession took hold.

Aziz let out a low whistle of appreciation. “Damn, Ian. You don’t mess around, do you?”

“It’s not enough,” Ian hissed, teeth bared like a wolf. “Mental agony isn’t enough. Hurt him. Make him bleed.”

I glanced at Aziz. “Sounds fun.”

A hungry grin spread across my lips as I snaked my belt free from my belt loops. Aziz snatched up a letter opener from the desk, a wicked pointed thing.

Grasping his shirt, I ripped it open, exposing the white undershirt beneath. I barely got my hands out of the way before Aziz slashed at him, digging a shallow furrow across the man’s stomach. Ian groaned in pleasure.

“Fuck,” Ian moaned. “I can feel his pain. It feels good. Give him more.”

Grabbing my belt, I folded it in half, and brought it down on Hudson’s chest. Thecrackof leather on skin made my cock grow stiff. A blood red welt erupted immediately after striking him, and the priest’s mouth dropped open to scream, but Ian’s partial possession had him under control. There would be no more calling out, no sound at all, other than the mental cries of agony only Ian could hear.

Aziz knelt low, pushing the tip of the blade to Hudson’s chest. “You’ll think twice about hurting Evelyn, won’t you, priest?”

With deliberate and aching slowness, Aziz pushed the tip of the blade a millimeter under the skin of the man’s areola. Blood welled up as he slid it in a circle, tracing the entirety of the priest’s nipple.

“Yes,” Ian hissed, his hand rubbing at his own crotch as Aziz worked, the pain giving him sexual pleasure. Part of me wishedI’dbeen the one to take possession of the man.

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