Page 31 of Bad Demon

He hadn’t burned to death in that fire and neither had Grady. No, they were like roaches. Nothing could kill them. I should have stayed longer after I lit it. After I barricaded them in that building and set it alight, I should have stayed. I should have made sure there was nothing left, that they were nothing but ashes.

The Chemist said he’d find me if I ever left, and he meant what he said—always.

“You’re going to get rid of the hound, Estelle, and then you’re going to let me in.”

It was as if my soul left my body at his order; my physical form locked solid, but everything else in me jerked to obey, to do as I’d been told.

“Do it,” he hissed. “Now.”

It physically hurt to ignore him. My body and mind had been conditioned to do as I was told, reminding me what disobeying would mean—all the awful, horrific, degrading things he had done to me, the things they’d both done to me.

“What d-do you w-want?” I hated the terror in my voice.

“You didn’t think we’d just let you leave and never come for you, that we’d let you get away with what you did? It’s over, Essie. It’s time to come home.”

I shook my head and stumbled back from the window.

“Get rid of the hound, Essie, right the fuck now,” he hissed.

The sound of his voice was low, hushed. He was worried about something. Grady never spoke in hushed tones. Ever.

He was afraid the hound would hear him.

He’s afraid of the hound.

Of course he was. Any demon with half a brain cell would be.

Adrenaline jolted through me, and it was incredibly hard to disobey him—it was so fucking hard. But I would never go back. Never.

The shock of seeing him, though, of hearing his voice had my defenses dropping, and the past rushed forward like it was yesterday.

The door to the surgery opened, and a young male—a demon—was dragged in. He was crying, beaten bloody, and shaking.

“Please, let my brother go. Please.”

Grady ignored him and dragged him over to me. “I told you, you just need to fuck her, and we’ll let your brother go.”

He cried harder, shaking his head. “I won’t do it.”

The front of his track pants was tented, and he was trying desperately to cover himself.

Grady noticed as well. “Excellent. The potion’s finally worked. It’s time.”

The male tried to fight him off, but Grady was stronger and much older. A scream came from down the hall.

“Did you hear that? I don’t think your brother’s having fun here.”

The male cried out, “Stop it! Don’t hurt him. Please.”

“Then do what you’re told.”

He looked down at me. “I’m sorry,” he choked out. “It’s … it’s my brother.”

I said nothing. There was no stopping this. There was no fighting it. I was strapped down, sick from The Chemist’s virus and weak from blood loss after Ghoul almost drained me.

Shaking and crying, the male climbed on top of me. I turned my head away while he apologized over and over again as he forced himself inside me.

When it was done, he climbed off the bed and threw up. Grady grabbed him and dragged him from the room.

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