Page 78 of Bad Demon

It was a fever dream or a trick. I blinked, trying to clear my vision, but black spots danced at the corners of my eyes.

Grady was playing games with me.

I wasn’t going to fall for it. The monster had Relic’s eyes, but the distorted face had a mouth full of sharp teeth. I stayed completely still, waiting, biding my time. The creatures weren’t allowed to touch me, but this one’s fingers had grazed my skin, and now he was removing my bindings. I didn’t want its fucking hands on me. I didn’t want anyone’s fucking hands on me. Only Relic. Only ever Relic.

That wasn’t him; it couldn’t be. I was seeing things, seeing what I wanted to see.

He worked on the straps around my wrists, and as soon as they were free, I exploded off the bed. My weak legs immediately gave out, and I fell to the floor. The darkness at the corners of my vision got worse, and the smell of putrid blood filled my nose. Gasping and panting, I scrambled across the wet concrete floor over things—disgusting things I couldn’t properly make out. I reached the wall and pressed my back to it, lifting my hands out in front of me.

“The Chemist w-will kill you if you touch me. You aren’t allowed to touch me,” I said, my speech fucked up without my teeth, and more blood oozed down my chin.

A rumbling sound rolled through the room, and my wild, swinging hands hit something, somebody.

“Stay back,” I screamed. As I did, something charged through me, like I was being plugged into an electrical socket, like a dead engine struggling to turn over, suddenly setting off sparks, before dying again.

The rumbling was closer, but I couldn’t hear it over the ringing in my ears and the pounding of my heart. My body was burning up; the virus had set in.

One minute, I was pressed against the wall; the next, I was hauled off the ground.

“No! Don’t you fucking touch me!” I fought as hard as I could, but they were restraining my arms and my kicking legs.

With no other way to fight, I reared back and tried to sink my fangs into firm flesh. Again and again, I tried, then whimpered, because my fangs were fucking gone. I was pulled back suddenly, and a moment later, my face was pressed back to that same spot. The scent of blood filled my lungs. I groaned, my tongue darting out, tasting, sliding along a deep slice. The blood was fresh, rich—warm. Not cold and putrid. My starving body ignited, the demon inside me roaring to the surface. Instead of trying to get away, I wrapped my arms and legs around the massive body pressed against me and lapped at the heavy, pulsing vein. It was throbbing and oozing blood, and I sucked hard.

Digging my nails into skin and muscle to hold on tight, I drew deeply on the thick vein, gulping down the fragrant, rich blood, letting it fill me and revive me.

I hadn’t eaten at all, and I had only been given a few sips of water since I’d been brought back here. I was so hungry that there was no stopping me. I was jostled, but no one tried to pull me away or shove me off. So, I fed greedily, until my limbs grew warm. I was so weak from my fever that when the adrenaline subsided, I couldn’t hang on anymore. My arms fell away, and I braced to hit the concrete floor … but I didn’t.

That was when I realized the solid arms and big hands that had been restraining me were cradling me gently—one arm under my butt, supporting me, the other now at the back of my head, keeping me at that throat, helping me feed now that I was too weak to do it myself.

Now that the ravenous hunger had subsided, a familiar scent filled my senses, and as I feebly sucked, the taste on my tongue finally registered. I blinked several times, and the black shadows in my vision receded. I knew that muscled throat. I knew the runes tattooed on that massive shoulder.

No. This had to be a dream. I’d passed out, and I was still tied down on that gurney, surrounded by monsters.

But even as I told myself that, I whimpered, clawing, trying to hang on to him, to the dream, the delirium. It couldn’t be true, yet I was terrified he’d let me go, that this mirage would vanish, that I’d wake and find myself back in that hell.

But I was positive I felt the weight and smelled the comforting scent of worn leather against my back, that I could feel the heat of Relic’s skin against mine.

The hand, still at the back of my head, applied soft pressure, and warm breath ruffled my hair. “I got you, baby.”

I shivered as that hand moved to the back of my neck, and a comforting, rough-skinned thumb slid along my jaw.

“I will murder whoever did this to you, Tinker Bell, with my bare fucking hands. I will tear their heart out and bring it to you, sweetness. I will lay it at your feet. I promise you that.”

I was jostled again, something soft and warm coming around me.

“Get the door open,” my Relic dream growled, and I was shifted before I was sitting across his lap.

Gods, this felt so real. I forced myself to blink again. My sight came and went. I was in a truck. I found the strength to tilt my head back, and a pair of gorgeous golden eyes locked on mine.

My Relic dream cupped my face. “I’m so sorry, baby. I’m so sorry it took me so fucking long to get to you.”

My limbs felt like they were weighted down by bricks, but I somehow managed to drag my hand out of the blanket wrapped around me and pressed it to his bare chest. His heart pounded against my palm, and his eyelashes fluttered. I let his warmth soak through me, through the blanket, through my skin, into my bones.

“Relic?” I choked out.

“Yeah, Tink, it’s me.”

Not a dream. Not a mirage. He was here.

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