“There is more to it than that. With the right woman.” His voice dipped dangerously low, its vibration making my skin tingle. “Any sexual energy is nourishing and revitalizing, but other emotions colouring it can make all the difference.”
“What do you mean?”
“Anything a woman feels towards me, personally, makes her energy special.”
He fell silent for a few moments, possibly lost in his thoughts or maybe letting me ponder his words.
“One of my most treasured memories is making love to a woman who cared about me,” he said finally, his voice soft.
“Who was she?” I stared at his profile as he gazed straight at the road ahead.
“A widow. Her husband died at sea years before I met her. This was about two hundred years ago. She lived alone on a shore in Norway. We spent over six years together—the happiest years of my life.”
“Did she love you?”
He said she cared about him, and for whatever inexplicable reason I needed to know how much.
“No.” His reply felt bitter. “Her love remained with her husband to the end. But she found comfort in my touch, an escape from loneliness. Over time, she grew attached to me, which turned into an affection.” He paused, his gaze on the road. It seemed like his mind had wondered back in time to that Norwegian shore and the woman he once knew. “But I always longed for more. Nothing she ever felt for me was as strong as the flame of love she carried inside for her husband. The most beautiful feeling I’ve ever seen. Endless and powerful. The more I took from it, the brighter it burnt.”
“You fed on the woman’s love for her dead husband?” I clarified, with a cringe inside.
“Yes.” Unapologetic, he met my gaze with challenge. “I know exactly what undying love looks like and how it tastes. There is nothing in this world that could compare to that.”
The conviction in his words subdued my judgment.
“What happened to her?”
Ivarr’s chest rose with a deep inhale, and he released the air slowly.
“She died from an illness.” His voice turned rough. “There was nothing I could do but hold her in my arms as her soul departed.” His throat moved as he swallowed hard before adding softly, “Never before have I hated to be immortal as much as that day.”
“Immortal,” I whispered, trying to imagine what that would be like to carry memories and grief for an eternity.
A strong urge to comfort him rose inside me, if only I knew what to say or do to ease the pain of loss that lasted much longer than I’d been alive.
“I left Norway the very next day,” he continued. “And let Sytrius catch me a few weeks later.”
“You let him?”
“Well, usually, I make him work hard to try and catch me. When awake for a while, I am better fed than he is and therefore stronger and smarter, too. The Council’s rations barely keep their Soldiers awake. But Sytrius has persistence and an indestructible sense of duty on his side, which makes him a worthy opponent.” Respect and even something like admiration spread on his face. “Still, I had evaded him for centuries. With Margreta gone, everything, even freedom, lost its meaning.”
Margreta. The name of the woman who managed to capture a demon’s heart, without giving hers in return.
Suddenly, I wondered what it would be like to be made love to by him. Did he do everything with the same passion he spoke . . . and kissed? An achy feeling stirred in my chest, and I recognized it as envy—I was envious of a woman, who’d been dead for two centuries, of her getting to experience him.
Meanwhile, Ivarr continued, “Sytrius brought me to the Council, who sent me to Inferno for two hundred years for getting too close to a Source, without permission.”
“What is Inferno?”
“A form of fiery jail for demons who break the rules of the treaty. Once I got out, I spent several years on the run, until Sytrius caught up with me again. This time, he somehow convinced the Council to let me fall in Deep Sleep instead of Inferno. Not much of a difference, but the lesser evil of the two. I’m not sure why exactly Raim agreed to it. But this time, I didn’t live with a woman and didn’t have much time to commit that many crimes against the Council, just feeding on my own.”
“So, having sex with women in order to feed on their sexual energy is considered a lesser crime than living with one and having her care about you?”
The world of demons was still a dark place for me, and their extensive list of rules murky at best in its logic.
“It would seem that way, wouldn’t it?” The now-familiar wrinkle of concentration appeared on his forehead. “I can’t tell for sure, though. Every judgment is case-specific. And every decision is up to the Council.”
“Not up to Raim?”
“Well, Raim basically is the Council. He’s been Grand Master for centuries. Smart and ambitious, he seems to have the interest of our kind at heart. He’s also the one with the most experience. I believe Raim is probably the only one of us who hasn’t spent any time in Deep Sleep.”
“Would he know that you’re awake now? How long until they send Sytrius after you?”
“I’m not sure.” Ivarr rubbed his chin. “For whatever reason, Sytrius stopped at my place to take my car. Maybe, I need to get hold of him.”
I gasped. “Why would you even think about contacting someone who hauled you in front of the Council more than once? How can you trust him?”
“Why shouldn’t I trust a demon who does his job well?” he replied calmly.
I shook my head.
Obviously, playing a cat-and-mouse game for several centuries must have established some kind of connection, even respect for Sytrius in Ivarr. Didn’t necessarily mean that the feeling was mutual.
In any case, I felt some caution wouldn’t hurt.
“Don’t worry.” Ivarr sent a quick look my way. “I won’t call until I can analyze this idea and its consequences better than I am capable of doing right now.”
“If you think he’d be a reliable source for information . . .” I rubbed my neck in thought. If there indeed was a safe way to connect with someone who could help us with answers, maybe I could ask a couple of questions on my own. With more information on The Priory, I could figure out whether or not it was safe for me to contact them and ask for help and protection, instead of continuing to run from both people and demons.
I felt a sore spot under my hand and turned the rearview mirror my way, to inspect the three little puncture wounds on my neck, each with a small circle of bruising around it. The coloring of the bruising in various shades of blue, yellow and purple suggested that the injections were done at different times, probably, to top me up as the drugs started wearing off. I wondered if my abductors missed a dose when they got lost, thus allowing me to wake up.
“Who did that to you?” Ivarr asked gravely.
“The guards. The ones from the base. When they kidnapped me.”
“Are you sure they were the guards?”
“They wore those armour suits.”
“Soldier uniforms?”
“If that’s what they’re called—”
“Hold on.” He reached out and moved my head to the side slightly, giving the injection side on my neck a quick, penetrating stare. “These don’t make sense. Why would they inject you?”
“To keep me quiet?”
“What difference would it have made if you screamed?”
Sad but true. I’d been loud enough at times at the Base, no one seemed to be bothered by my screams before.
“Maybe they didn’t want The Priory rep to hear me this time? And to keep me from escaping, obviously, since I ran away the moment I woke up. Who are The Priory exactly? And how come they are the ones authorized to make any deals with demons?”
“The Priory has some religious roots, but I’m not sure if they adhere to any particular religion nowadays. At the time the treaty was signed, they had a vast influence on governments of many countries but were believed to be generally apoliti
cal. New members are selected by existing members and remain with the organization for life. That’s all I know about them. The treaty allows the Council to obtain a certain number of Sources a year for feedings. That’s how you would have been acquired in the first place.”
I rubbed the sore spot on my neck, absentmindedly.
“Why would they take me from the base? And where would they transport me?”
Ivarr didn’t reply right away. Eventually, the grim expression on his face changed to that of frustration.
“I don’t know.” He exhaled finally and shook his head, muttering under his breath, “I need to feed.”
Chapter 13
MAKING SURE THAT NO one appeared to be following us, we agreed to stop at the next town for the night.
Ivarr drove the truck into the parking lot of the first motel we saw, just before nightfall.
“We both need some food,” he stated, gesturing at the bar next to the motel. “And I’ll get us some rooms so you can rest.”
‘Rooms’ not ‘a room’, I noted. While I’d be resting in mine, I assumed, he’d be feeding in his.
“I’ll have to leave, Katherine,” he said after escorting me into my room on the second floor of the motel. “I’ll bring you dinner. Don’t open the door to anyone. And here, I was meaning to give you this, too.”
He dipped his hand in a side pocket of the camo backpack he brought with him from the truck and took out a shiny piece of jewelry on a red, silk cord.
“What is this?” I inspected the heart-shaped pendant, realizing that it was not shining from the outside. Instead, the light was coming from within, twirling in the middle in continuous fluid streams. “This is so unusual.”
“It’s soros stone.”
“Never heard of it.” I turned the heart-shaped rock in my fingers, admiring the swirls of light within.
“Of the demon world but carved by humans,” Ivarr replied quietly, as if quoting something he’d heard long ago. “Not sure yet how I got it, but I’ve had it ever since I can remember.”
“Why are you giving it to me?”
“To protect you while I’m not here. If you wear it, it will prevent any demon from entering this room. It also glows only in the presence of one of us. When I leave, it should turn dull. If you see it glow, don’t invite anyone in. Actually . . .” He rubbed his forehead. “Don’t invite anyone in. Period.”
“Not even you?”
“I’m already here. Even when I leave, I’ll be able to enter freely.”
IVARR BROUGHT ME A hearty steak sandwich from the bar for dinner. He also gave me one of his white t-shirts to sleep in and declared he’d find a store to get some more clothes for me tomorrow.
“Ivarr . . .” I stopped him when he had his hand on the door handle, ready to leave in search for his own meal. “How, exactly, do you feed? I mean, I don’t need any details or anything, but how do you find your, um, energy source. Are there any specific criteria that you use to select her?”
“No, nothing like that.” He took his hand off the handle.
“So, just any woman would do?”
Why on earth did I care? This looked too much as an attempt to stall him.
“For a quick feed? Any woman, willing to let me close, is suitable.”
“So, you don’t have any preference at all?”
“I didn’t say that.” He took a step in my direction. “Why are you asking, Katherine?”
Good question. Why did I ask? To make sure he wasn’t out there, harming anyone? He had been rather adamant about a woman’s consent. I might not have known him for long, but I believed that he wouldn’t hurt a woman. Why did I need to know any more about the way he fed?
“Oh, just curious. I’ve only seen how it’s done at the base,” I rushed to explain, words tripping over each other on their way out. “And I know you don’t agree with that, not that I agree either, of course . . .”
I should’ve just kept quiet.
“Anyway,” I finished my blabbing. “I was just wondering how else it could be done.”
“Would you like me to show you how I feed?” His voice dropped to the consistency of honey, and his gaze trapped me like a fly in a net.
“What?” I blinked, speechless, feeling my face heat up.
Did he just ask if I wanted him to feed off me? Or did he mean I’d watch him with another woman?
Not that it mattered either way—both were out of the question, of course.
“No. No, it’s fine.” Now, even my ears were burning hot. “Sorry, I asked. It’s none of my business. As long as no one gets harmed . . .”
Because that was my true concern, the safety of everyone involved. Right?
“I told you, I don’t force.”
“And I believe you.” I cleared my throat, trying to collect my bearings. “Well, you, um . . . have a good night, Ivarr. I’ll see you later.”
AFTER HE LEFT, I HAD a long shower and changed for the night. With probably close to a foot and a half of height difference between us, Ivarr’s shirt reached to just above my knees.
Getting under the covers, I nuzzled my own shoulder—the faint smell of spice and male tickled my nostrils.
I forbade myself to speculate on what he might be doing at that very moment. However, the unbidden images still floated through my mind’s eye. His big, strong arms propped on the sheets, holding his large frame over a woman spread under him. The muscles of his back rippling as his body undulated over her, his hips thrusting into her.
I turned in bed, tugging the covers over my head, as if that would help me shield my mind from the vivid pictures of Ivarr with the random woman.
It could have been me . . .
The thought shot through me like a hot rod, heat surging to my lower stomach before spreading through my whole body. My arms and legs felt weak at once.
No.
Having a one-night stand with a demon was not in my plan. There was no place for anything like that in the life I was trying to return to.
I survived the accident, which killed my parents. Raised by my mom’s older sister, who had become another mother to me, I graduated with honours and worked as an Accountant in an excellent firm.
I believed I had a good head on my shoulders and a healthy set of morals. My ex-boyfriend was the first and only man I’d had sex with, and I found it satisfactory enough.
Ivarr might not have been the one who kidnapped me and held me in the basement, but he still belonged to the world I was trying to escape. A realm of the gloved hands of strangers touching me in the most intimate way.
It would be feeding time on the Base right about now.
I closed my eyes tight, struggling to keep those memories away, but it wasn’t the nightmares that they brought. The heat between my legs turned into a pulsating ache as soon as I thought about the cross. I squirmed under the covers. This body reaction definitely couldn’t be normal.
With a gasp, I sat up in bed.
One thing Keller was absolutely right about—I would need to seek counseling as soon as I got the chance.
At least the anxiety extinguished my arousal somewhat.
Despite it being night, the room wasn’t really dark. The fluorescent light from the parking lot outside reached in through the thin curtains, tinting everything inside with a sickish grey. My gaze fell at the bottle of water left by Ivarr on the table for me. Suddenly thirsty, I tossed the covers aside, got out of bed, and padded to the table under the window.
I swept the mostly empty parking lot with my gaze as I drank. It stretched between the motel I was in and the bar where Ivarr bought my sandwich, and where I was fairly certain he went in search of his own dinner.
The unsettling feeling about him returned. Suddenly, I wanted him to be here, not necessarily in bed with me, but just here, in this room. I wished he wouldn’t need to pleasure women to feed and could’ve just shared my sandwich with me, instead. Then he would’ve told me more about what he’d done and seen during his incredibly lo
ng time on Earth.
The image of his eyes, full of sorrow, when he talked about the one woman he cared about and his longing for more came to mind. I believed I’d glimpsed into his soul then, and I wished to see more.
What made him feel so strongly about a woman whose heart could never be his? And why did I feel a sting of sadness, knowing that I might never find out?
Envy, or maybe even jealousy, raised its obnoxious head inside me. And I wasn’t even sure which one of the women I was more envious of—the one who had his heart long ago, or the one who was probably having his body right now.
The doors of the bar across the street opened at that moment, letting a couple out. I recognized the man and almost choked on my water.
Ivarr.
A tall, willowy blonde was glued to his side, her arm around him, her other hand splayed on his chest under the open zipper of his hoodie. The low neckline of her tank top under her fitted leather jacket and the platinum-blonde pixy cut emphasized her long neck, which bent gracefully as she inclined her head his way.
The faceless, random woman from the images in my mind was now here, in flesh and body . . . a rather gorgeous body, I had to admit.
I swallowed hard and put the near empty water bottle back on the table.
Ivarr’s arm was around the woman’s waist, the thumb of his other hand hooked in the pocket of his jeans as he casually led his companion across the parking lot to the motel—to his room. To be devoured by him for dinner . . .
Why shouldn’t it be me?
The thought exploded in my head again, blinding as lightning, incinerating whatever logically constructed objections I had.
As they crossed a poorly lit part of the parking lot, a flicker of orange-pink flashed across Ivarr’s face—the demon was feeding.
And there was nothing I could do about this.
The Forgotten (Demons Book 2) Page 7
