Devour (Hellish Book 2)

by Charity Parkerson

  Niall massaged Jonathan’s legs, looking lost in thought. Cin didn’t think the man was aware of touching Jonathan. Finally, Niall sighed. “Honestly, I’m fine to leave you to it, since I’m obviously wasting my time. I’ll let the others know to stay away as well.”

  The tension bled from Jonathan at Niall’s answer. Cin couldn’t decide why it was so important to him. “Thank you.”

  “You know he’s evil, right?” Niall asked, searching Jonathan’s face with his gaze. “Demons are deceivers. He’ll say anything to gain your trust.”

  “You don’t have to worry over me,” Jonathan said, sounding so sure it was impossible to doubt him. “A demon killed me not too long ago. I won’t be an easy target.”

  Niall smiled. It was sweet. Cin’s chest tightened at the sight. He couldn’t remember the last time Niall smiled and meant it. Niall continued to rub Jonathan’s legs as if he’d forgotten anyone else was there. “I trust you not to rip our hearts out by getting yourself hurt.”

  Cin’s heart stopped before slamming against the wall of his chest. Niall had definitely included Cin in that statement. It was the first time Niall had said anything that gave Cin hope. Cin pounced on it before Niall had time to shut them out again.

  “So, that’s settled. You should come to bed with us.”

  Jonathan stiffened in his hold but didn’t speak up, withdrawing the offer. The silence filling the air said a lot about how hard Niall and Jonathan were trying to hide their thoughts.

  “I’m sorry. What?”

  Cin had a hard time hiding his smile. He couldn’t imagine how it looked because it felt evil even to him. “You should tell whatever dark thoughts you’ve been having to go fuck themselves. Stop pretending this isn’t what you want and come to bed with us.”

  Niall looked away. Cin stared at his profile, watching the muscles in the man’s jaw flex. He wondered how anyone could ever mistake him for anything less than royalty. Niall gave off the most powerful vibe of anyone he’d ever met. No matter how angry he looked now, Niall hadn’t stopped running his hands over Jonathan’s legs. If Jonathan had taken a single breath since Cin made his offer, he hadn’t heard it happen.

  Cin dropped his voice, trying not to spook Niall. He was a runner. “You don’t have to do anything this first time. We could just turn off the lights and hold each other.”

  Niall finally looked over and met Jonathan’s gaze. The fury in the other man’s eyes took Cin back. “I’m sorry I turned you so you could spend eternity with a mate more than willing to share you. If you were with me, I never could.” Niall disappeared before Cin had time to explain.

  A sharp pain stabbed Cin through the heart. It was so intense he couldn’t tell if it was his or Jonathan’s.

  Jonathan stood. He wouldn’t meet Cin’s gaze. “Go after him. That’s what you want.”

  “I want you,” Cin said, hearing the aggravation in his voice. He couldn’t temper it.

  Jonathan stared straight ahead, hiding his thoughts and emotions. “There’s still two hours before dawn. Go after him. I’ll see you at bedtime, as always.” Without another word, Jonathan scooped his laptop from the ground and walked away. He needed a new plan. It was time for drastic measures.

  After plugging his laptop in to charge, Jonathan headed for the kitchen. He grabbed Lire a few bottles of water.

  Don’t think.

  He spotted a box of prepackaged cupcakes and grabbed those too. With his hands full, he couldn’t rub the spot in the center of his chest that was slowly killing him.

  Don’t think.

  The second he stepped inside the garage, the tension drained from his shoulders. Work. He had a project to busy his mind. The most Lire could do was kill him. Jonathan was certain everyone else was trying to destroy him. This time, he found Lire pacing.

  He turned at Jonathan’s arrival. “You’re back. Don’t you ever sleep?”

  A snort escaped Jonathan. “Everyone else accuses me of sleeping too much.”

  Lire resumed his pacing. “You’re depressed. People sleep a lot when they’re sad.”

  Rather than taking Lire’s bait, Jonathan moved to the edge of the circle and held up the water. “I brought some things for you.”

  Lire’s mouth lifted in one corner, but he didn’t stop pacing. “You realize I don’t need any of that to survive, right?”

  Jonathan tossed the water bottles and cupcakes inside and walked away. “That’s fine. I won’t bother next time.” With his hands free, Jonathan gave in to temptation. He rubbed the center of his chest. Never in his life had he been more useless. He couldn’t help Niall. Cin was hell-bent on forcing things. He knew next to nothing of the world he now lived in. The demons were no closer to being found. Even Lire didn’t need his help.

  “I said I didn’t need it,” Lire said, picking up the water. “I didn’t say I didn’t want it.”

  “Whatever.” Jonathan heard the petulance in his tone. He was beyond caring.

  “Jonathan.” At his name, Jonathan met Lire’s gaze. The man’s eyes were gold again. “Thank you.”

  Jonathan dipped his chin. He recognized Lire wasn’t one who thanked many people.

  “Ask your questions,” Lire said, cracking open the water. “You’ll never learn anything about this world you’ve been thrust into if you don’t ask.”

  A small smile tugged at Jonathan’s lips before a bark of laughter escaped.

  Lire’s forehead furrowed. “What’s so funny?”

  “I never thought the day would come when a demon would be more willing to talk to me than my mate. What a fucking mess my life has become,” Jonathan said with a shake of his head. He sighed, trying to let it go. “It doesn’t matter. How are you holding up in there?”

  Lire didn’t answer. Instead, he continued to drink his water while silently eyeing Jonathan. Once he polished off the water, Lire set the bottle aside. He waited until he’d reclaimed his chair before speaking. “Do you know how to bring two men to their knees? You get on yours,” Lire said, answering his question before Jonathan had time. “If you’re the one in control, then they’ll be helpless. As long as you let either of them remain in charge, you’ll always be at their mercy.”

  Jonathan thought there might be some good advice in there somewhere. He didn’t feel like deciphering it right now.

  “How old are you?” he asked instead.

  “That’s a rude question. You should guess and flatter me.”

  Jonathan eyed Lire for a moment before answering. “Thirty-two.”

  Lire smiled. “Close. I mean, I was thirty-two in 1605, so you weren’t completely wrong.”

  “Seriously? But you’re half human.”

  “And?” Lire asked, sounding genuinely curious to hear why Jonathan thought it mattered.

  Jonathan shrugged. “I don’t know. Shouldn’t the human side of you age?”

  “A single drop of supernatural blood will overpower any human aspects of your anatomy. Think about it. You were born human. Does it matter now?”

  “Yes,” Jonathan said without having to think about it. “I might be a vampire, but I can’t do everything vampires can do, because I wasn’t born a vampire. For example, I can’t dissipate. If I want to get anywhere fast, I still have to drive there. The sun doesn’t bother me at all. It stands to reason, even though you were born half demon, you’d still have some human traits.”

  Lire tapped his chin, being obnoxious in his attempts at thinking things over. “Well, I didn’t kill you or use you to escape the one time you stepped inside my circle, so there’s that.”

  Everything about Lire fascinated Jonathan. He loved learning about new things. In truth, he’d be every bit as excited to learn about life as a vampire too. Unfortunately, he had to learn about that through trial and error since no one ever told him anything. Lire was always willing to talk to him. “So, you mean to tell me, if you were full demon, you would’ve killed me?”

  “Why does a serial killer kill people?” Lire asked
instead of answering.

  Jonathan turned the question over in his mind. “I guess it could be for several reasons. Schizophrenia. Past child abuse. Really any number of mental disorders.”

  Lire shook his head as if he found Jonathan foolish. “Good people search for a reason behind every terrible act without understanding evil doesn’t need an excuse. It’s cold and empty. It exists for no reason other than destruction. Just as you struggle to understand how anyone could callously cut someone’s life short, evil doesn’t understand why you won’t.” Lire swiped his hand through the air, as if washing away his words. “But that’s not what you asked.”

  “In a way, you answered my question,” Jonathan said, lifting one shoulder in a half shrug. “If you were full demon, you would’ve killed me for no reason other than you could.”

  “Perhaps,” Lire said, as if willing to debate. “Being half human doesn’t lessen my dark nature. Instead, it adds a calculating side. If I’d killed you, Blondy would’ve killed me, and I like not being dead. Seriously, does no one sleep around here?” Lire asked, sounding as if he was done talking for the day.

  Jonathan shrugged. “As far as I’ve seen, no one has a schedule. They just sleep whenever. There’s no going to bed at night—or day. No one turns out the lights, letting the house go silent. I don’t think I’ve slept a full eight hours in one sitting since the turn.”

  “Aren’t you tired, Jonathan?”

  As Lire said his name, Jonathan’s eyelids grew heavy. A yawn escaped. He was more exhausted than he’d ever been in his life.

  Lire pointed toward the corner of the room. “There’s a cot over there. You should sleep, Jonathan.”

  Another wave of weakness overcame him. He blinked at the corner. Jonathan was certain there hadn’t been a cot in the room earlier. He was too tired to think straight.

  “Okay,” Jonathan said. Lire’s suggestion sounded better by the minute. He could close his eyes for a little while. No one would bother him out here. Not that anyone was looking for him. The cot welcomed him. It was more comfortable than Jonathan expected. The instant his head hit the pillow, the world went dark.

  7

  The sensation of ants crawling on his skin ripped Jonathan from the best sleep he’d had in ages. Dougal strolled through the room, headed for Lire.

  “Stay the fook out of my dreams.”

  Jonathan opened his mouth, intent on announcing his presence. No sound emerged. He tried again. Nothing happened. It took him a second to realize the sensation that had awoken him was Lire hiding his presence. This time, he’d also stolen Jonathan’s voice. His muscles weakened as if sleep tried pulling him under. Jonathan fought it. Dougal wore nothing except a ragged-looking kilt. If Jonathan had thought the man was beautiful clothed, it was nothing compared to the man half nude.

  Without missing a step, Dougal crossed the lines of Lire’s demon trap. “I’ve told you before, I don’t want you in my head.”

  Are you determined to fight me and stay awake, Jonathan? Very well. I can’t dampen my nature to spare you.

  Jonathan shook his head, trying to dispel Lire’s voice from his mind.

  “I’m starving,” Lire said, sounding turned on and making Jonathan’s stomach cramp with want.

  Dougal snagged the front of Lire’s shirt and pulled the demon to his feet. “Get out of my head.”

  “It’s not all me,” Lire said as he raked his fingernails slowly down Dougal’s back. “You just don’t want to admit it.”

  A sound Jonathan had never heard before escaped Dougal. It was pain and lust. A tortured man on the edge of orgasm with no hope of relief.

  “Give me what I need, Blondy. You swore you wouldn’t let me starve.”

  Jonathan couldn’t look away from the scene taking place across the room. He should close his eyes. Knowing it didn’t make Jonathan turn his head. Niall was right about Jonathan’s perversions. He couldn’t look away.

  “Goddamn you,” Dougal swore, snagging the back of Lire’s head.

  “God doesn’t look my way,” Lire said, capturing Dougal’s mouth.

  The air thickened. Jonathan tried catching his breath. He didn’t think he’d ever seen anything as hot as the way the muscles in Dougal’s back rolled as Lire’s fingers dug in, leaving indentions. Lire sat, bringing Dougal with him. Dougal straddled the man’s hips.

  “Damn, Blondy. You’re not wearing anything underneath this.” His hands slid beneath Dougal’s kilt as he made the claim. “You’re too used to being in charge,” Lire said, nipping at Dougal’s collarbone. Dougal’s head fell back. His panting breaths filled the air as he gave Lire more access to his throat. “Has anyone ever been inside you, sexy? Or are you always the one feeling that heat tightening on your cock?”

  “No one controls me,” Dougal said, obviously trying to hang on to some form of reality.

  “I do,” Lire growled, taking the last threads away from Dougal. “I’m about to push my way inside you. It’ll hurt, but you’ll let me anyway, because you want it. You want me. You want what I can do for you.”

  As Lire made his claims, his hands moved beneath Dougal’s kilt. Jonathan couldn’t see what the demon was doing, but he could guess. His hands balled into fists as he fought not to stroke his cock. Whatever spell Lire weaved around Dougal, Jonathan wasn’t immune.

  Now’s the time, Jonathan. Sleep and bring your men to their knees.

  At Lire’s claim, the world slipped away.

  He felt Jonathan the instant the man slipped inside his dreams. Niall had been determined to stay away tonight and let the man have time alone with Cin. Now Jonathan was here. Niall couldn’t draw a full breath. The room shimmered, becoming his shop. A breeze touched his shins. Niall dropped his gaze. He was wearing a kilt. It was the one belonging to his family too, as if Jonathan had seen it somewhere before.

  A low chuckle escaped him. “I haven’t worn a kilt in years.”

  Jonathan appeared. His hot gaze raked Niall’s body. “I had a sudden burning desire to see you in one.”

  Niall’s mouth went dry. Jonathan had never looked at him before the way he did now, even after feeding. This was more. Niall wondered if he should run for his life. “You have a great imagination,” Niall said, hoping to temper his desire. “This is the exact kilt my family wore.”

  “It’s time to be quiet, Niall,” Jonathan said, cutting him off. Niall snapped his teeth together. He’d definitely never seen this side of Jonathan, but he liked it. That didn’t mean he intended to be quiet.

  “You’ve never visited my dreams. It’s always the other way around.”

  Jonathan’s mouth covered his, stopping Niall from saying another word. His hand snaked up Niall’s kilt, encircling Niall’s dick. The man did a damn good job of stealing Niall’s voice. Jonathan was in control. This wouldn’t be their usual visit. Normally, they talked, kissed, and spent time together. As close as they’d come to sexual contact, they’d never crossed any real lines. Niall wasn’t sure they could go back if they did.

  He tore his mouth away. “Jonathan.”

  “No more talking,” Jonathan spat as he fell to his knees. Niall reached for the man’s arms, intent on pulling him back to his feet. Jonathan’s hot mouth surrounded his cock, stealing Niall’s ability to do anything at all. The sensitive nerve ending in his crown scraped the roof of Jonathan’s mouth. The man’s tongue lapped at every inch. Niall’s fingers found Jonathan’s soft hair and hung on.

  It might’ve been his dream, but Niall knew he was no longer in charge. He wasn’t sure how Jonathan controlled dreams or took control of certain aspects of people’s minds, but there was no denying he belonged to Jonathan at the moment. Who was he kidding? Jonathan always owned him. The hot suction on his dick had Niall ready to tear his skin off. He needed his mate to make him come like he needed oxygen. Niall felt like he’d been dying for it for forever. Maybe it was all happening in his head, but Niall still wanted this his way. Using his unnatural strength against Jonathan, he swep
t his mate off his knees. After swiping everything off his worktable with his forearm, Niall set Jonathan on top. He tore at the man’s clothes. He wasn’t gentle. Niall didn’t take it easy on him. The instant he had Jonathan unclothed enough to impale the man with his dick, he was inside his mate.

  Jonathan scratched at his skin and pulled his hair. He writhed against Niall like he felt the same insanity Niall did—the same need to become one. Even once inside, Niall’s inner rage didn’t ease. This wasn’t making love. It wasn’t mating. Hell, Niall wasn’t even sure it was sex. This was a branding. He wanted his mate’s blood, sweat, and screams. His teeth tore into Jonathan’s chest. Blood filled his mouth and ran down his chin. The copper scent was so strong, Niall swore it was really happening. The hot squeezing of his cock felt every bit as real. The fire in his gut exploded into waves of ecstasy, stealing everything from Niall—his cum. A scream. His soul.

  Warm jets of semen filled his underwear, pulling him from the dream of Jonathan. A gasp tore from his throat as his eyes shot open. He blinked at the sight of his bedroom. The blank walls matched the emptiness of waking up to find Jonathan missing.

  Niall glanced down at his soaked underwear. “Fook.” The growled word echoed in the empty room, reminding Niall how alone he was in the world. Throwing his arm over his eyes, Niall shut out his surroundings and concentrated on breathing. This wouldn’t kill him. His throat tightened. Pain sliced through him. His arms had never felt emptier. Then again, maybe this would kill him after all.

  Jonathan didn’t come to bed at dawn as promised. Cin tried to stop his rage from growing. Two hours past time for bed, Cin snapped. The sexy man who’d stolen Cin’s heart had no fucking clue how hard Cin had to fight to keep his alpha side from demanding Jonathan give him everything. After searching the house, he headed for the garage. With every step, he prayed he wouldn’t find Jonathan still hanging out with the demon spawn.