Page 28 of Ravished By the Reaper

His face comes through a mirror across the room, at a pretty vanity like I’ve only seen in movies. Neat trick. I guess the Underworld spent all their money on acting lessons and a special effects mirror, instead of bothering with actual horror scenes. “Are you in danger?” he asks. “Did Leander not find you?”

“I’m here,” my unseen companion says in a grumble. “She doubts our arrangement, though she doesn’t appear feeble-minded.”

“Hey!” I snap.

“Which means the fault must lie with you.” My companion quits insulting me and switches to Theo. He continues talking to the trick mirror that glimmers with Theo’s face. “It would seem, demon, that you left out some of the details of the deal.”

Demon? Deal? What the fresh hell is he talking about? Anxiety spirals in my belly, and I feel sick. I’m finished with both these pranksters and their stupid haunted house. “This isn’t funny, Theo. I want my friends.”I want to go home. “Call off whatever scene this is so I can go.” And I can warn everyone away from this place that has gone past creepy and into just plain strange.

Mirror Theo looks straight into my eyes, as if he can see me. “You and your friends really should learn to read contracts before signing them, little human. Your negligence doesn’t negate the authenticity.” Glancing toward the shadows where my unseen not-a-friend lurks, Theo says, “I’ll forward the contract. It’s valid and binding. She’s yours for fourteen days—until the new moon. Now, I have a situation that’s an actual emergency.” He waves his hand in front of his face and fades from view.

Hope sinks in my chest like a worry stone. The contract? The liability waiver on the tablet that I signed without reading what it said. My friend Val’s mention of kink and sex acts. How she assumed the corporation had screwed up the contracts. What the hell did I agree to?

The mirror transforms into a giant screen with text, and I sprint across the stone floor to scroll through the long paragraphs of legalese. The more I read, the more lightheaded I feel. My skin goes clammy.

How did I miss the binding of two weeks, the descriptions ofmateandarranged match, the kinky acts that I haven’t seen outside of my naughtiest romance novels? I blush while skimming the page of intimate acts that Val must’ve crossed out. But the most vanilla sexual acts from penetrative to oral? They remain in straight-forward, unapologetic bold print.

I signed a sex contract.

With most of the sex stuff marked out, but still… Me—who doesn’t get those much-talked-about butterflies in her stomach, or anywhere lower, for anything other than an excellent scene in a book. Iagreedto this. And without Ava or her lawyer mother, I don’t know an easy way to get out of it. My supposed match’s talk of portals, dimensions, and sentinel demons circles round and round in my head. I close my eyes, needing the blank space to process instead of drawing connections from one game point to the next stop.

“Oh, no.” My whisper holds all the horror that this house didn’t come close to conjuring. I can’t go home for two weeks. What will my mom think? Who will feed the stray cats in the neighborhood? How will I pay my rent?

The gravelly voice comes from close behind me this time, and I don’t turn, don’t look, don’t pause the panic attack that no mythical healing spell in any game could cure. Remembering my mom’s instructions for not spiraling, I mentally list off her five steps to managing the manic before it controls me.

1.Realize this is panic.Check. A thousand times over, I can check this one off.

2.Breathe.I inhale through my nose and exhale through my mouth in a slow, measured stream. Better.

3.No mental time traveling.Digging in, I move to the next step because I can only go forward, not back. I can’t undo what has already been done.

4.Step outside the situation and imagine the best and worst possible scenarios for the predicament. Okay, best-case scenario? I’m stuck with two psychos who think it’s funny to paranormally punk a woman into believing she has made a sex deal with a demon to be matched to someone named Leander. Worst case? I’m trapped for two weeks in another dimension, which can’t be possible because those don’t exist outside of movies and video games, right?

5.Fake normal until the pretense becomes reality.Except I can’t. This wassupposedto be “pretend,” where my friends and I got a tiny thrill and then left, not a real nightmare that will last from sleep to waking to sleep again.

I can’t stop the spiral. Fatigue and dizziness drag at me. Flashes of color spot behind my closed eyelids, and I squeeze them tighter.

“I don’t want your fear.” When the voice comes along with warmth in my hair and over the nape of my neck, I don’t flinch.

An unhinged laugh bubbles through the room—crazed and desperate. It takes a moment before I realize it came from me. Maybe Dirk the Jerk was right with one of his taunts. My curves may be fabulous, my wit stellar when it comes to gaming, and my interests vast. But I might not have a firm grip on sanity. If I don’t look, maybe the delusion might disappear.

“It seems we share a common problem,” Leander says.

I keep my eyes closed, but the weight of him, the solidness of him behind me comforts when the nearness of this stranger should terrify me. He makes me doubt what I’ve been told all my life about my size—too tall, too sturdy, too round—with his overwhelming presence. Yet he doesn’t sound as though he means me harm. No, the concern in his voice makes me think he’s caught in this trap as much as I may be.

Another giggle soaked in a sob edges out of me. “Did you sign a sex contract with a demon, too?” I wobble on my feet, and strong hands wrap around my upper arms in a hold that keeps me upright without caging me.

“I did. It’s part of the matchmaking agreement, along with promising to protect you, provide for you, never harm you?—”

“Sounds like you got the short end of the bargain.” My joke falls flat, but I didn’t see any of those things listed in my requirements when I scrolled this time. No, my deal centered onsex. “I take it that you’re Leander?” Because who else could he be?

“Yes, and I’m your matched mate. While he’s a trickster, Theo’s matchmaking is flawless. Won’t you even consider the possibility that we’re meant to be together?”

Beneath the rolling rumble of his voice, there’s a vulnerability that calls to the same in me. Could my romance novels have gotten it right? What if I’m the princess of this story? “You think you’re my handsome prince?” This time my teasing comes out steady, the shake in my voice giving way to strength. I open my eyes, catching the part of his reflection in the mirror that shadows don’t cloak.

His broad shoulders, massive chest, and the shaggy black hair falling from the face of a beast. A bull’s head with giant horns and a piercing through his snout where a nose should be. Dark, fathomless eyes stare back at me. Sharp-nailed claws grip my arms.

I scream. I will never stop screaming.

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