The Forgotten (Demons Book 2)

Home > Other > The Forgotten (Demons Book 2) > Page 8
The Forgotten (Demons Book 2) Page 8

by Marina Simcoe


  He might look like a man, but he was something else entirely, someone who had to have sex for nourishment. That was what he’d done for centuries and that would be how he would continue long after I went back to my life as Kitty Jones, the accountant.

  Our paths had crossed but for a very short time here and now. Sooner or later, they would part again. He’d be a demon on the run, and I’d find my way back to Seattle and to the life I used to have.

  A few days from now, everything would be different. We could be miles apart by then and any gorgeous blonde could have him.

  But not tonight.

  The idea came so suddenly, it made my head spin. I swayed on my feet and braced myself with my hands on the table.

  Tonight he could be mine.

  There was no one to judge and no one to stop me . . .

  Suddenly, nothing else mattered. Common sense must have deserted me completely. I rushed to the door, shoving my bare feet into the snow boots on the way then sprinted down the stairs outside.

  Tonight, he was mine.

  “Ivarr.” I stopped in front of them the moment they’d reached the door of a room on the first floor.

  I panted from running. My hands started to shake from nerves. I didn’t give myself a moment to contemplate how ridiculous I must have looked, wearing nothing but an oversized t-shirt and a pair of winter boots. “I’ve decided.”

  “On what?” He lifted an eyebrow in question.

  “Your dinner,” I blurted out. “You can have it . . . with me. If you want.”

  “Who is this?” The blonde’s hand patted his chest under the hoodie. He didn’t seem to notice that, staring at me intently.

  I straightened my shoulders under his gaze. If he was watching my emotions, I really hoped he could make some sense of what he saw. Because the way I felt, there must have been just a lot of jumbled, muddy chaos inside me. I wasn’t even sure if there still was any hint of the desire that had been simmering just under my skin since the moment I met him. Right now, I felt like one ball of tight nerves.

  And anger, I realized with surprise.

  Irritation buzzed inside me as I watched the woman’s hand slide down his stomach until her fingers dipped under his belt.

  “Is this your little sister or something?” she cooed then tossed my way, “We already had dinner, sweetie.”

  Ivarr’s arm dropped away from the blonde’s waist, and I was finally able to exhale the air that had sat tight in my lungs.

  “Hey, you, asshole!” came loud and sharp from the parking lot. “Get your hands off my girl!”

  A group of leather-clad men came running to the motel from the bar. The short, wiry one in the front spat on the pavement on his way to Ivarr.

  “You’re not fucking this moron, Jessa!” he yelled again. “I swear to God, I’ll fucking break your legs if you do!”

  Sizing up the approaching men, Ivarr quickly stepped in front of the seemingly unconcerned Jessa, shielding her and me from the approaching crowd.

  “Get in the truck, Katherine.” He tossed me the keys, tipping his chin at our truck parked about thirty feet from where we stood. “Lock the doors.”

  His face remained calm, his voice even. But I noticed more men rushing through the doors of the bar into the parking lot. Whether they simply hurried to watch the short guy fight or intended to join him remained to be seen. However, the odds were potentially turning against Ivarr.

  “We should go.” I made a tentative step towards the truck, reluctant to leave him to face the horde alone. Even with all his strength, he couldn’t possibly fight a whole gang of them. Could he? Not that I would be much help here, but I simply couldn’t run, leaving him behind.

  “Go. I’ll catch up.” Ivarr nodded reassuringly then addressed the short guy, his voice friendly enough. “Sorry, man. She was alone.”

  “Fuck you!” Jessa’s admirer stopped just a few feet away from Ivarr. He appeared pumped up and itching for a fight, making up in enthusiasm what he was lacking in size. “She’s with me!”

  Rolling her eyes, Jessa attempted to walk around the short guy, a bored expression on her face.

  “Where are you going, you slut?” he shrieked, shoving at her shoulders with both hands. She staggered back, balancing on her mile-high heels.

  “Hey!” Ivarr stepped between the two. “No need to be an asshole. We were leaving anyway.” He sharply gestured towards the truck to me, urging me to get going.

  I nodded, taking another step back ready to run for it.

  “We?” The short guy’s gaze flickered my way. “Who is this thing?”

  Thing? Really?

  “Is she with you?”

  A shudder ran through me. I did not like the glimmer in his eyes when he ogled me. The t-shirt wasn’t keeping me warm in the chilly autumn night. I resisted following his leering stare at my chest, knowing very well that my nipples must be poking against the thin material in the cold.

  “See how you like this, big guy,” the wiry man gritted through his teeth, menace thick in his voice.

  I didn’t wait to see what this was and whipped around to sprint to the truck the moment he lunged for me.

  “Katherine!” Ivarr’s voice cut through the night, low and dangerous, when the man caught up with me and grabbed me around my middle, swinging me back to face the fight scene in front of the motel.

  The others from the bar had pounced on Ivarr. His fists turned to a blur as he swung them left and right, knocking his attackers to the ground, even as more kept coming.

  Struggling against the arms that held me tight, I slammed my heel into the man’s foot. Now I wished I wore something like Jessa’s stilettos—the flat sole of my winter boot didn’t do much damage. Still the guy hissed at my ear, jerking his foot away.

  “Hold still, you little bitch! Or I’ll fucking cut you.”

  I heard a click of a spring being released—a blade flashed, reflecting the streetlights, as my attacker slashed the knife through the air around me.

  Panic shot cold through me. Using the strength of adrenaline coursing through my veins, I twisted in the arms restraining me.

  “Let her go,” Ivarr gritted out, from somewhere behind my shoulder, and the loud sound of his fist connecting with the skull of the man holding me drowned the noise of the hoarse breathing at my ear.

  The man jerked. His arms dropped from me. Without so much as a glance around, I bolted for the truck hitting the ‘unlock’ button on the way.

  Chapter 14

  PANTING, I JUMPED INTO the passenger’s seat then peered out the window at the demon fighting men.

  It looked more like a slaughter to be honest. With incredible speed and unstoppable power, Ivarr threw punches in every direction, piling up bodies all around him.

  A few more men ran out of the bar. I noted some of them dash to the row of parked bikes to grab some tools they obviously intended to use on Ivarr.

  A tattooed guy in a leather vest yanked a thick chain from a compartment on one of the bikes and was now rushing Ivarr, swinging the chain over his head.

  Another one produced something that blinked with a flash of reflected light, and I tensed in fear. A gun?

  Ivarr was holding his own against them all, but I was sure someone from the motel or the bar must have called the police already. With armed bikers ganging up on him, like a pack of hyenas on a lion, Ivarr’s situation seemed to become more dangerous by the second.

  Unfortunately, the horde swarming Ivarr prevented him from getting to the truck, cutting off his retreat.

  I had to do something.

  Cursing under by breath, I crawled over the centre console into the driver’s seat then slid all the way down to reach the pedals and started the engine before moving the seat closer.

  Plowing through the fight to reach Ivarr, I pressed hard on the horn as the only warning, letting the guys decide for themselves whether they wanted to get out of my way or be mowed over.

  “Ivarr!” I shouted through the rolled
down window.

  He glanced up, a flash of amusement lighting up his expression of surprise. Not a hint of fear or even concern for himself.

  “Come on!” I yelled, not amused at all. “Get in.”

  Clutching the wheel, I couldn’t reach across the wide cab of the truck to push the passenger’s door open for him. He punched a couple of guys out of his way then jumped into the seat.

  Without opening the door.

  Mechanically, I pressed the gas pedal all the way into the floor, revving the engine to send the truck flying through the parking lot and onto the street.

  What was that? How on earth did he get in?

  “They’re after us.” Ivarr’s calm statement yanked me out of my bewilderment.

  In the rearview mirror, I caught the sight of a few shapes on bikes and wrenched the steering wheel to the right, taking a side road into the fields instead of going back to the highway.

  “What are you doing?” There was more curiosity in his voice than alarm.

  “The bikes are faster than this truck,” I gritted through my clenched teeth, focusing on the dirt road lit by the headlights. “They’ll catch up with us either way.” I threw a quick glance his way. “Out here—there’re less witnesses.”

  I trusted his ability to deal with our pursuers, their chains and guns notwithstanding. Whereas attracting attention on the highway could be dangerous for both of us, especially if demons were out there, looking for us.

  From the corner of my eye, I noted one bike getting awfully close to the back of the truck.

  “Buckle up,” I warned Ivarr, quickly throwing a seatbelt across my chest, too, and clicking it in. Then I slammed on the breaks, the seatbelt digging painfully into my shoulder.

  The bike behind us rammed into the tailgate, spinning on its side and off the road.

  I shoved my foot against the gas pedal again, and the truck lurched ahead.

  Another bike pulled to the side of the truck, and I twisted the steering wheel sharply to the left, sending him off into a ditch.

  Taking my eyes off the road ahead for a moment, I scanned the rearview and the side mirrors, watching for more bikes gaining on us. But the headlights of our pursuers seemed to come to a stop at the spot where the last bike had crashed.

  Obviously bored out of their skulls to attack Ivarr with so much fervor in the first place, the bikers, I hoped, had finally come to their senses and would leave us alone.

  “Are there any more?” I asked Ivarr.

  “No. They stopped,” he replied with certainty.

  Only then I ventured a shaky exhale.

  “Did I kill anyone?”

  “Well, none of them wore a helmet.” He shrugged staring back over his shoulder. “If you did, it would be on them, not you.”

  “Huh!” I huffed sharply. “Why doesn’t that make me feel any better?”

  This was by far the craziest thing I’d ever done. Until now, my behaviour had been perfectly law-abiding. I’d never even got so much as a speeding ticket.

  The shock of it all threatened to suffocate me.

  “Well.” Ivarr turned in his seat to face forward again, apparently satisfied that there was no further pursuit. “The last guy has just crawled out of the ditch, on his own. So, he is alive,” he added brightly.

  “Did you kill anyone?” was my next question.

  “I don’t think so. Not this time.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “There were definitely quite a few broken bones, though.”

  I nodded and kept driving along the road, without having any clear sense of where we were after a while.

  “How are you?”

  “Don’t worry about me, Katherine.” His voice was full of unidentifiable emotion.

  Adrenaline wearing off, my fingers began to tremble on the steering wheel.

  “Are we okay?” I asked, needing to make sure there was no longer any immediate danger, in case I broke down. “Are they gone?”

  “Yes.”

  I stopped the truck right in the middle of the dirt road between two empty fields.

  “Fuck,” I exhaled.

  I hardly ever swore, but the situation warranted it.

  Slowly, I uncurled my fingers and peeled my sweaty hands from the steering wheel, dropping my head to my chest.

  “Just . . . give me a moment,” I whispered to Ivarr, waiting for my pulse to stop pounding in my ears.

  “Katherine.”

  He covered my hand with his, and I stared at it for a moment, trying to figure out what struck me as unusual about it.

  His hand was bare, I realized. He had taken his ever-present glove off and was touching me skin to skin.

  I tensed and fought the impulse to jerk my hand away from him.

  “Shh,” he whispered soothingly. “I just want to help you calm down.”

  The slight cooling sensation enveloped my hand, and I looked up in alarm. “What are you doing?” But the heavy anxiety seemed to be lightening inside me with every passing moment.

  “Don’t be scared,” he stroked the side of my hand with his thumb in a comforting gesture. “I’ve learned to control this.”

  “Control what?”

  “How much I take. When I’m awake, I can stop.”

  “Take?”

  His words should still alarm me. Only, I was not worried. On the contrary, with every breath I took, I felt calmer.

  He watched me with the same intensity I had noted in his gaze before, although, no lights were flashing through his eyes this time. Instead, I gasped at the black swirls taking over the brilliant blue of his irises, like ink dissolving in water.

  “Ivarr?” There was no fear, no worry inside me, just an easy emptiness. I drew in a cleansing breath, and it came out as a sigh of content. “Your eyes. Are you okay?”

  The cooling sensation stopped, and I took his hand in both of mine.

  With a soft groan, he leaned back in his seat but didn’t take his hand away from me.

  “No,” he panted heavily. “I’m not okay, but I will be.”

  “What’s wrong?” Concern for him spiked inside me, only to disappear the very next moment with another gentle sweep of cooling sensation between our clasped hands.

  He rolled his head on the headrest to face me and opened his eyes. The black swirls in them receded to the very edge, dissolving completely as he spoke.

  “Thank you, Queen Katherine. Much better now.”

  “What was that?”

  “Negative emotions are harmful.” He lifted my hand to his lips—my pleasure from his soft caress against my skin immediately reflected as a bright blue spark inside his eyes. “But any positive ones have the power to heal the negative effects.” He gave me a strikingly bright smile that made my breath catch for a moment.

  More blue sparks came.

  I was beginning to like seeing them. Not only were they pretty to look at, but their presence meant that Ivarr was well. When he fed, he grew stronger. Strong enough, apparently, to take on a whole biker gang.

  The tender expression on his face hardened, deepening the wrinkle between his eyebrows.

  “What is it?” I smiled in confusion at his obvious concern.

  “I’m so sorry, sweetheart, but I’ll have to release the pain now. I can’t take it all. It’s ongoing.”

  “What do you mean?” The smile disappeared from my face, as I slowly became aware of the dull pain in my arm. “What is this?” I reached to touch it, but Ivarr caught my hand in the air.

  “Don’t. You’ll make it worse.”

  My gaze fell on a spreading bloodstain that soaked the right sleeve of my t-shirt.

  “I can’t believe it. I didn’t even notice it!” Until now, the adrenaline must have numbed the pain before Ivarr took it away. I nudged my hand from his to lift the sleeve up and faced the long wound on my upper arm. “The bastard cut me after all.” Swearing again. Twice in one day. But I really didn’t have a better name for the short guy with a knife right now.

  “You’ll ne
ed stitches,” Ivarr stated grimly.

  He tore off a wide strip from the bottom of his t-shirt and deftly bandaged the wound. The whole arm throbbed now, but the trickle of thick, dark blood from the cut had almost stopped.

  I noticed a few red drops on his chest.

  “You’re hurt, too!” I pointed at the small cut above his ear.

  He brushed his hand over it then glanced at the smear of blood on his palm.

  “Just a scratch,” he dismissed.

  “Let me see.” I cupped his face and turned his head to the side. A cut was about an inch long. “It’s deeper than a scratch, Ivarr. You may need some stitches, too.”

  “It’ll heal on its own,” he insisted. “But yours will definitely need medical attention.”

  I dropped my hands, and he rummaged through the glove compartment, taking out a folded road map.

  ““Since we don’t have cellphones, we’ll need to find a hospital the old-fashioned way.” He waved the map. “I’ll drive.” Without waiting for my reply, he lifted me out of the driver’s seat and placed me in his lap. I assumed his intention was to slide from under me and into the driver’s seat next, but he paused with his hands on my waist.

  “You smell . . . nice,” he said softly, and touched his nose to my shoulder.

  “Thank you,” was the only thing I could think of in reply, incredibly grateful for the motel shower.

  A strand of his hair brushed against my cheek. In the dark, the gold shine in it made it appear luminous. I leaned my face closer, enjoying the soft caress of silky tresses against my skin.

  “You smell very nice, too,” I whispered, filling my lungs with his spicy masculine scent. Splaying my hand on his hard chest, I traced the outline of his pectorals under his t-shirt, firm and solid, like the rest of him. He made the night feel safe, even as both of us were on the run.

  Here in the dark, surrounded by his scent, the moment was filled only with the sensation of his hands on my waist, his warmth soaking into my skin through the thin material of the t-shirt.

  “The soft glow inside you,” he murmured just above my ear and slid his hands up to my shoulders, bringing us closer, “is irresistible.”

  I raised my hands to dip my fingers into the golden silk of his hair, my whole body singing with awareness, tempting me to simply enjoy the sensation. My movement pulled on my wound, however, making me flinch.

 

‹ Prev