Served me right for being stupid enough to trust an Incubus when I knew better. Still, a year ago this would have never happened. The notion that demons were the enemy had been ingrained in me since the night my brother was taken.
Deep inside, my father’s belief that it was the Incubi who had taken him never made sense to me. I’d always had some doubts. That didn’t mean I would have ever trusted one of them back then, though.
Tonight, I had let my guard down, believing that the millennium-old demons were capable of changing their ways. And maybe some of them were.
Definitely not this one, though. That must be the reason why he was still alone, because he was incapable of changing for the better.
Lying bastard.
Despite the anger burning as high as it did, deep inside I saw how my behaviour contributed to my current situation, too. Ultimately, my safety was my responsibility, but I had compromised it.
Hurting, I had been searching for ways to deal with the pain in some rather self-destructive ways. From going out alone, to drinking, to speaking with someone I should have known I couldn’t trust. And most importantly, by convincing myself that he was the cure to my pain. I’d recklessly put myself in this situation. Now, I had better find a way out of it.
I stopped pacing aimlessly, taking a closer look at the room that was now my prison.
It was a large, dark bedroom. A carved four-poster bed with a hunter-green canopy stood in the middle, its velvet curtains tied to the four posts. It was placed a bit off centre, giving room to the sitting place by a stone fireplace to the right.
The tall windows were barred with ornate wrought-iron. I fiddled with the old-fashioned hardware on one of the windows and managed to unlock it then shoved the bottom frame up.
The warm, salty smell of the sea rushed into the room, along with the noise of crashing waves. Carefully peeking through the bars, I surveyed this part of the island as thoroughly as the moonlight would allow.
The surface of the sea was much further down than I had hoped—Raim’s castle stood on a cliff. There was nothing on this side but sharp rocks going all the way down to the foaming white surf.
The window bars were embedded into the masonry of the walls. But even if I felt I could wrench them out, there was no escape for me this way.
A single door to the left caught my attention next.
Rushing to it, I swung it open, to find a large bathroom. It was perfectly round, with slim, tall windows on all sides. Its shape made me think it must be located in a turret. That meant there were no adjacent rooms or hallways from where an Incubus could enter, I noted with relief. A claw-foot bathtub stood in the middle, with the toilet and a bidet at the wall shared with the bedroom.
All windows here, just like those in the bedroom, were barred. I examined them, one by one. Although considerably narrower than the ones in the bedroom, two of them were still designed to open, and the gaps were large enough for me to squeeze through.
One seemed promising. The ground outside it was higher, with a narrow, grass-covered patch around the wall.
Grabbing onto the grate, I paused, giving myself permission to use my full strength.
The old habit of suppressing it was hard to break. Ever since I could remember, both my parents had constantly reminded me to keep it in check, to fool people into believing I was ‘normal.’
After my brother was gone, my father had severed all ties with our relatives who knew of my family’s unusual abilities and who were like us. We moved across several states to start anew, in a place where no one knew us.
Since then, I never saw my father walk through a wall ever again. I did catch my mother close a cabinet door once while she stood at least ten feet away, using nothing but her mind to do it. Her arms were filled with grocery bags, and I ran to her from another room, without noticing the open door. I would have rammed right into it had she not willed it to close just in time. She never spoke to me about it, though, just gave me a warning look before I could ask.
‘Using your strength will give you away, Dee, and make you the next target.’
Hide it. Blend in. Stay safe.
So, I did.
Until today. Tonight, my super strength had helped me to fight a demon off. And I had no reservations about using it to free myself from this room.
The grate groaned in my grip, the loose mortar sprayed out of the wall around the bars embedded in it. With a firm yank, it came loose, and I managed to pull it inside instead of dropping it onto the rocks below.
My heart raced, freedom seemed to be right within my reach. Then I paused to think in front of the open window.
I needed a rope long enough to reach the ground. The bed in the other room had enough bedding on it for me to make one. But then what?
From what I had seen of the island from the air, this castle was the only structure here. In the distance, I could see a thin line of lights in the dark—the mainland. But although seemingly close, there was no way I could swim to it across several miles of seawater.
The elderly couple Raim mentioned earlier came to mind. He said they left by boat. I could only hope that they would come back soon enough. If he was planning for me to stay here forever, he would need someone to at least bring groceries every now and then.
Right now, my best option would be to wait until they came back then sneak on their boat back to mainland.
I carefully propped the grate back against the window again. Partially hidden behind the door, it wouldn’t be easy to spot from the bedroom and definitely not from the hallway—the closest Raim could come to here, anyway . . .
The closest?
The sudden thought sent me to my feet from the bathroom floor where I sat while fiddling with the grate.
The pendant was supposed to secure a room from the demon’s entry.
One room.
I was no longer in the bedroom, which meant it was no longer inaccessible to Raim. The much smaller bathroom was my one and only sanctuary at the moment.
Carefully stealing to the bathroom door, I peeked into the bedroom. All seemed dark and quiet here, but there just was no way of telling if an Incubus had snuck in while I was occupied with the window grate.
Clutching the pendant in my sweaty hand, I hesitated to cross the threshold. If he indeed was there, I would much rather prefer to stay in the bathroom. It would be stupid to spend the night on the cold marble floor, though, if Raim was nowhere around.
If he was stomping somewhere else in his castle, sulking at my spoiling whatever it was he had intended to do with me tonight, then I had better claim the bedroom for myself again before he discovered I had abandoned it.
I strained my memory for whether or not I’d heard any sound at all while I was at the window. When nothing came to mind, I carefully inched over the threshold. Almost expecting the demon to pounce on me again, I paused for a moment. Nothing happened, no one ambushed me.
With increasing confidence, I moved further in, then quickly ran to the switch by the door and flicked the lights on. The room definitely appeared empty of any demonic presence, allowing me to relax a little.
With adrenaline receding, exhaustion settled in, weighing on my body like a load of rocks. I padded to the bed and stroked the puffy bedspread on it. Made from jacquard satin of green, blue, and gold, it shimmered like a peacock feather. The pillows and the rest of the bedding were just as soft and luxurious.
With a sigh, I slid the thin straps of my dress off my shoulders, and stepped out of my ruined garment. Completely naked now, I crawled in bed and under the covers. They smelled clean, if a bit dusty—unused. Obviously, demons didn’t need to sleep, and judging by the unfriendly disposition of the master of the house, visitors probably weren’t a common occurrence around here.
Tomorrow, I decided, I would need to find a way to pry some more information out of him somehow—hopefully the exact schedule, including the arrival and departure times, of the boat. Raim said his housekeeper couple came on an as neede
d basis. At a bare minimum he would require them to bring groceries and cook for me.
Surely, he was not intending for me to starve?
Chapter 7
STILL TIRED, I DID not feel ready to get up. However, a full bladder proved to be a strong enough motivation to finally open my eyes. The bright sunlight shining straight into my face also meant there was no way I would be able to sleep much longer, anyway.
Climbing out from under the covers, I made a mental note to draw the bed curtains close before going to bed next time, being as there were no curtains on the windows.
Next time.
How many nights would I have to spend here? Hopefully, not too many. As soon as the boat came by again, I needed to find a way to get on it and off this island.
Shuffling to the bathroom, I paused at the door. What if Raim came in the bedroom, while I was in the bathroom?
I vaguely remembered something about the pendant needing to be worn in order for it to repel the demons. So, leaving it on the nightstand wouldn’t work.
Taking a look around, I hauled the two tall floor vases from their spots by the fireplace to the door, then carried the silver candelabrum from one of the side tables to the wall the room shared with the hallway. Not much of a defence, but I hoped that if blindly coming through the wall or the doors, Raim would trip over the candelabrum or knock over the vases, alerting me to his presence.
Sneaking to the bathroom quickly, I did my business, and even took the risk of spending a minute washing my face and rinsing my mouth.
Not hearing any noise, I came back to the bedroom, finding all my safety measures in place. The demon stayed out, it appeared.
Good.
Except that I was feeling really hungry now. Two martinis and a grape were all I’d had for dinner last night.
My ruined dress remained on the floor where I had left it, and I decided not to bother with it. Instead, I eyed the bedspread and the silk sheets underneath. I needed some of it to make the rope for my escape, but I wondered if I could spare a sheet to fashion a toga of sorts. I had no doubt that sooner or later Raim would show up again, and I had no desire for him to see me wearing nothing.
My gaze fell on the large wardrobe by the wall, on the other side of the door. I believed I might have noticed it last night, but in my agitated state, I hadn’t had enough presence of mind to remember it being there.
I opened the tall, carved doors and gasped at the beautiful collection of gem-coloured clothes inside. Hanging on the cherry-wood hangers, the tunics of various length, material, and trim lined up neatly. The scent of aged, expensive wood immediately seemed familiar, bringing to mind the sensation of hot lips on my body, silky hair between my fingers, and warm skin against mine . . .
Raim’s scent.
I promptly took a step back, staring at the clothes—all in the style that Raim seemed to favour.
Come to think of it, the bathroom also held the faint scent of the same fragrant wood I remembered as his scent from last night. The bed sheets didn’t, which was not surprising, since he probably didn’t spend any time in them.
Was this Raim’s room?
Giving the place another glance, I searched for more signs of him. Walking along the pale cream-and-green rug on the floor, I glided my hand on the high backs of the two armchairs by the fireplace. Would he be sitting here? Watching the sunrise over the thin shoreline of Italy in the distance, through the tall bedroom windows?
What did it matter to me if he did?
I jerked my hand away. If he didn’t want me in his room, I’d be more than happy to get off this island with the next available boat or helicopter.
Coming back to the wardrobe, I went through the clothes, selecting a plain, cream coloured shirt that would probably be hip-length on him but reached about mid-thigh on me. I paused before closing the doors, stroking the luscious material of the tunics in it—raw silk, thin cotton, colourful jacquard, and golden brocade. Many had intricate embroidery and beading, and appeared to have come from different time periods.
I took out a silk tunic, a little longer than the one I was wearing right now. Dark red, just a shade brighter than the wine he had last night, it was elaborately embroidered around a neckline that had a deep slit in the middle, which would give a glimpse of Raim’s chest. The gold thread of the trim had darkened over time, giving the garment that rich antique look that only comes with true age. It perfectly suited a millennium-old Incubus, who also happened to be a flawless example of male beauty.
I could almost see Raim wearing this. The red would bring a deep glow to his umber skin. And his hair would . . .
The sound of footsteps outside of the bedroom door snapped me out of my bizarre thoughts. Shoving the tunic back into the wardrobe, I closed it and froze, expecting the bedroom doors to open any minute.
Then I remembered that Raim most likely couldn’t open them anyway, which meant, I needed to do that myself if I wanted to see him or, more accurately of course, if I wanted to get fed.
Padding to the door, I placed my hand on the handle then took a moment to collect my thoughts, getting ready to face the demon.
With a bracing inhale, I yanked the doors open.
Wearing nothing but a pair of loose, cream-coloured pants, of similar if not identical material to what my tunic was made of, he sat in a chair facing the door about ten feet away.
A small table stood right in front of me, with a silver tray and several porcelain plates.
“I know you don’t care,” I said instead of a greeting. “But the plane back to Seattle is leaving tonight.”
“How does it make you feel?” He tilted his head, in that now-familiar way.
“I’m sure you can see clearly how,” I huffed. “All my things in the hotel room in Zurich will be thrown into a dumpster, by the way.”
He said nothing to this, and I turned my attention to the dishes on the tray. I spotted a salad on one, some scallops and shrimp on another. There were also some sautéed mushrooms, risotto, and a steak, as well as a few pieces of dessert—cheesecake and chocolate mousse.
“What is all this?”
“Leftovers,” he replied calmly, steepling his fingers in front of him, “from last night.”
“Did you collect them off the floor?” I asked curtly, recalling where he had sent dinner before spreading me on the table to feast himself. I hoped I sounded sarcastic, although he surely could see the heat quickly pulse somewhere low inside me at that memory.
“No,” he replied impassively. “Some food was left in the kitchen.”
Glancing up from the spread on the tray, I caught Raim sliding his gaze down my body.
“You’re wearing my shirt,” he stated, his tone of voice unchanged.
“You ripped my dress,” I reminded him and regretted it right away as my memory flooded with more scenes from last night, including the one where my dress was ruined and his face ended up between my legs.
I noticed my emotions flash pink through his eyes. Pink, because my feelings were now tinted with arousal, and all it took was the brief exchange of a few sentences with him.
“Well,” I snapped. “Since you’re feeding, there is no point in me starving, either.” Keeping an eye on him, I quickly snatched the tray off the table and retreated back behind the safety of the barrier.
“Bye.” I kicked the doors close.
THE FOOD ON THE TRAY lasted me through lunch to dinnertime. I heard some footsteps in the hallway around midday, but I wasn’t hungry, so I didn’t bother opening the doors. Fetching some water from the sink in the bathroom, I snacked on what was left from my breakfast throughout the day.
Time had slowed down, which was unusual for me and so very different from my incredibly busy life in Seattle.
I relocated one of the armchairs from the fireplace to the windows, and watched the sun move across the sky over the placid sea. Several small, white boats moved along the shoreline on the horizon, but none of them came close enough to hear me or even to
see me, had I called out or waved.
So, I did neither.
Instead, I opened the windows, letting the warm spring air in, and ate the chocolate mousse with a silver spoon, enjoying every bite of it.
Peace and quiet.
I hadn’t had either one for a very long time. This confinement felt different from the one I had sentenced myself to in Seattle. The main difference being that there was no guilt, no pressure to pretend I had my life back in order. I was not locking myself away from the world, unable to face it. I had been locked in by someone else, which gave me a new purpose, too—to find a way out.
There was no one I could count on except myself. None of my friends or colleagues would wonder where I was when I didn’t arrive with that flight. As far as all of them were concerned, I was on a personal leave, ‘dealing’ with my divorce.
Right now, however, I didn’t even feel like facing anyone at all.
Least of all, the demon who held me here.
At dinnertime, I opened the doors, finding him in his chair in the middle of the hallway. A new tray with food stood on the table. Quickly sliding the old tray along the rug his way, I snatched the new one from the table and shut the doors, without saying a word.
He fed me some variation of the same type of food for a few days thereafter. I supposed it had all been prepared by his housekeeper the night he brought me here. Eventually, he would run out of leftovers, then he would have to get someone to come in to make more food, I hoped. The boat would come back, bringing groceries and an opportunity for me to escape.
RAIM
‘Score the skin in a diamond pattern,’ the recipe read.
Raim hit the play button of the video on his laptop, watching carefully how exactly the ‘scoring’ of the duck breast was done. Picking up a sharp, narrow knife, he mimicked the gestures of the chef in the video, cutting through the skin and the fat, careful not to slice through the meat underneath.
It was a long process—cooking. Reading the recipe alone proved not to be enough, the visual of the video helped.
The Last Unforgiven - Freed (Demons, #5) Page 6
