Page 9 of A Game of Monsters

Duncan watched me reach for the syringe in the leather bag, the glass vial swirling with the iridescent liquid Gardineum. His fate clear as day. Doing this was the only way I could keep him unconscious, his mind closed off to the demon inside of him. At least that was what I reiterated to myself to calm my guilt.

It didn’t work, it never would.

Weakened by his tired eyes, I gagged on a sob, releasing my grip on my strength. “Imustdo this. You know I must, Duncan. But I swear to you it will not be for much longer.” I gritted my teeth, reigning in my emotions. “I will find a solution.”

It had been Duncan who once begged this very act of me. In the few and far between moments when he was in control, he knew what I had to do to keep us all safe. But sometimes, when Duwar’s presence was louder inside of him, and more demanding, he would resist. Like today.

It was hard to know who I looked at swaddled amongst the bedsheets.

Later, when I’d leave his room, I would allow myself to break. But not in front of him.Neverin front of him. Showing weakness to Duncan wasn’t my worry – it was the demon that was always searching for something to use against me.

Hence the dreams. Nightmares conjured to taunt me, to wear me down. But the one Duwar had just offered me seemed stronger than before. Perhaps seeing Erix yesterday had opened old wounds, revealed how I really felt – how I could still feel his kiss across my chest, his hands around my wrists.

Nightmares, Duncan called them, and yet they felt completely different.

If only Duwar had worked out that there was nothing more he could use against me. The demon-god had taken my heart, my home, my life, and left me surrounded by ruin.

I pushed on the syringe, squirting out a little liquid from the needle, ensuring there were no air bubbles that would enter Duncan’s bloodstream and kill him.

“Robin, please. Don’t do this to me. I beg you.” Duncan continued to thrash in his bed, screaming bloody murder as I leaned over and brought the tip to his neck. His free hands grappled with me, trying to stop me, but despite the demon inside of him, his physical body was weak.

I couldn’t bring myself to strap his arms down. I worried if I made him completely immobile, he’d wake one day thirsty or hungry and be unable to help himself. But it was becoming more and more difficult to convince myself to allow him a little freedom.

Duncan’s neck was bruised, black and blue. As were his arms, the inside of his thigh and every place where I’d injected him. I’d rotate what vein I’d administer the injection depending on his cooperation. Today, I needed somewhere quick and accessible.

His neck would do.

The vein I’d entered was raised and sore, with barely days between to heal properly.

This was torture. For him, as well as me. Duncan was crying like a child, until his struggling suddenly ceased. Tears continued to trace down his cheeks, soaking the pillow. But something was different, like the feral part of him had been severed. His eyes locked with mine. Although he no longer spoke, the plea in his stare was louder than any screaming or shouting could’ve been.

“It’s me, darling.” He bored his gaze into me, plea evident in every line in his face. “I promise you, it’s me. You think I’m trying to trick you into believing me, but I’m not.”

Still, I couldn’t know which reaction was his and which was the demon trying to control me. I could trust nothing when it came to him.

“Duwar is corrupting you, Duncan,” I replied as I emptied the Gardineum into his bloodstream with ease. “You know it, as do I. Everything I’m doing is because you told me to do so. Do you remember?”

“I do.” There was something detached about his reply, a signal to who was really controlling this conversation. “I regret the day those requests left my lips.”

On the bedside table was a handheld mirror. It was the only one I’d kept with me – every other mirror in Imeria had been destroyed. I hadn’t seen my own reflection in so long I was forgetting what I looked like.

I reached for it, holding the glass aloft so it caught the profile of Duncan’s reflection. I held my breath, scared of what I would find in the mirror’s surface. Would it be him, my Duncan, or the monster using him as a vessel – a puppet?

I didn’t need to look properly to see the flash of brimstone and fire. The glowing red eyes and horns of a devil. It was more common than not that I saw the demon and not the man I loved in his reflection. Proving my worries right, justifying my terrible actions against Duncan – or what was left of him.

This calmness, this person conversing with me wasnotDuncan at all.

I dropped the mirror, hands shaking as urgency propelled me. “Nice try, Duwar. You almost had me.”

Duncan’s sobs stopped, then he smiled up at me, flashing teeth behind cracked lips. “Why do you continue to punish me when I can give you everything you’ve ever dreamed about, Robin Icethorn?”

Ignoring the demon’s taunt, I looked deep into Duncan’s eyes and hoped he could hear me. “I’m sorry, Duncan.” I sank my teeth into my lower lip until I tasted blood. My hand barely shook anymore. “For all of this.”

“But are you?” Duwar asked with a stolen voice. “Are youreallysorry? Or is that just something you keep telling yourself to make your refusal of my offer worth it? Is your apology a way of you justifying this torture when there is no need for it?”

I kept myself still, not pausing for a second as I withdrew the emptied syringe. “I’m sorry that I’m not strong enough to do what is right. That is what I’m apologising for.”

“You can be strong, if you finally accept me.”

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