Grand Master (Demons, #3)

by Simcoe, Marina

  His eyes shone wild and unhinged as he squeezed my throat with his other hand— hard—his whole body shaking with strain.

  Choking and struggling for oxygen, I realised he was lying.

  It took him visible effort to contain the obvious rage coursing through him right now. His own willpower would hardly be strong enough to hold him back, I suspected. The type of person that he’d been proving himself to be wouldn’t hesitate to beat the living hell out of me were it not for the orders of someone with more power forbidding him from harming me.

  “No one can stop me from fucking your ass right now, so you better behave.” Every word dripped with irrational hatred.

  Defiance burned through me, urging me to do something stupid, like spitting straight into his rage-distorted face. I forced my gaze away from his, lest he spot the hatred I felt for him, too.

  Unstable as he was, I had no desire to test how well he’d follow orders. If they indeed had been to deliver me in one piece, I preferred he stuck with that.

  Probably taking my avoiding eye contact with him as submission, he gave me another shake and jeered with satisfaction, “There you go, suka, know who is the boss here.”

  He tossed me to the wall of the van and returned to his seat in the front.

  For a while I kept quiet. When I could trust my tongue to obey my brain in forming the words, however, I turned to Shorty, who was sneering at me all this time from his seat on the bench.

  “Where are you taking me?” I asked quietly, not wanting to attract any more attention from the Boss.

  “Fuck if I know,” Shorty replied cheerfully, displaying chipped, yellowed teeth in a smirk. “I’m gonna get paid in an hour. After that, you can go to hell for all I care.”

  “Great.”

  Curling up in the back corner of the van, I huddled inside my coat from the cold and the fear and tried to ignore Shorty’s mocking stare crawling all over me as we kept bouncing along the dirt road on the way to the unknown.

  Chapter 33

  DESPITE THE COLD, THE uncomfortable floor, and the stress of the situation, I must have actually dozed off for a little while. It might have been due to the residual drug in my system or the fact that it was deep into night already.

  The sound of the front doors opening and closing jolted me awake. I opened my eyes, realising that the van had stopped.

  In a moment, the back doors screeched open, too.

  “Time to get you to your rightful owner, bitch.” Boss held on to one of the doors.

  Suddenly paralysed with fear, I pressed my back to the wall of the van. As much as I’d detested this vehicle and the men inside it, right now they seemed the lesser of two evils—with them at least I knew what I was up against.

  “Come.” Shorty gave me a kick in the ribs. “What? Do you need a special invitation?”

  Boss took hold of my arm and unceremoniously dragged me out of the van.

  I staggered unsteadily on the frozen ground, my feet immediately freezing cold in the tennis shoes I had on, making me wish I had put my boots on to take the garbage out with Zayne.

  Zayne.

  Where was he now? Had he and Vadim been looking for me? Would they be able to track me down?

  A brutal yank on my arm nearly knocked me off my feet, cutting off my thoughts of the demons. Paying no attention to whether or not I was in any condition to keep up, Boss roughly dragged me around the van and towards a string of lights in the distance.

  I saw, as we got closer, that the lights marked an airstrip with a private jet parked on it, its doors open, with the air stairs lowered to the ground.

  A group of men approached through the dark. The one in the middle stepped forward, giving me an assessing once-over.

  “What do you know,” he said in a slightly accented English. “These thugs actually got the job done.”

  I took him in, trying to figure out if I’d ever met him before. Middle-aged. Well-groomed, with neatly styled receding blond hair. Dressed in a long wool coat, he seemed harmless in his middle-class appearance—if it weren’t for the cynical, cold expression in his pale eyes.

  “This is kidnapping,” I attempted to talk some sense into him. “There will be consequences—”

  “I hope there will be,” he interrupted me, gesturing to one of the several men accompanying him, all dressed in identical long, brown robes.

  One of them moved forward, grabbing me under my arm.

  “I’m an Australian citizen.” I made another attempt to resist.

  “I know exactly who you are,” the one in the wool coat replied calmly.

  “Hey.” Boss shifted from foot to foot nervously, not letting go of my other arm. “I need my money first,” he said in Russian, and one of the brown-robed men translated his request to the man in the wool coat.

  He nodded curtly, without sparing a glance for Boss, then headed back to the aeroplane.

  One of the robed men shoved a duffel bag in Boss’s hands before helping the other one wrench me away from him. The two then dragged me along, hurrying after the one in the wool coat, who must be their superior in some way.

  “Well . . . um,” the uncertain voice of Boss quickly faded in the background behind us. “It was nice doing business with you . . .”

  The pair of monks—for that was what they all looked like to me, dressed in the robes tied with a piece of rope around their waists—basically carried me up the few stairs then dragged me inside the plane.

  One of them then shoved me into a plush leather seat, with definitely more force than was necessary.

  “Demon whore,” I heard him hiss under his breath as he turned to leave.

  “What did you just call me?” Shocked, I jerked my head to watch him stomp to the end of the cabin. The sound of his footsteps added to the noises of the aeroplane being prepared for departure.

  “Delighted to have you here,” a voice prompted me to spin around. The man in the wool coat took the seat across from me, a small table between us.

  This time, I was able to place his accent as German, or maybe Swiss, if Shorty was right about him.

  “Can’t say the same,” I snapped.

  “That does not surprise me.” He appeared unfazed by my anger, taking his coat off and making himself comfortable in the wide beige seat.

  The engines came to life, shortly bringing the plane into motion. Thrown back against the seat, I winced at the pain from my bound hands digging into my spine from the acceleration at the take-off.

  “Coffee or tea?” my companion asked as soon as the plane seemed to have levelled off.

  “What?”

  “You must be hungry. I’m inviting you to eat.” It would have been polite had it not been said in a steely voice, the tone hostile.

  Tempted to decline, I felt too thirsty to refuse a drink, any drink.

  “Tea.” I bit the word please back. “And some water.”

  He gestured to someone behind my shoulder.

  “Where are you taking me?” I asked gruffly.

  “Where is not the most important question here.” He took a wet towel that one of his men had placed on the table between us. There was one for me, too, but with my hands still tied behind me, I couldn’t use it.

  My companion paused, as if only just noticing my predicament.

  “Brother Lukian,” he called to the back of the aeroplane.

  A young man approached us, silently.

  “Handcuffs.” The man in front of me tipped his chin my way.

  Brother Lukian produced a knife from the folds of his robe and cut the plastic ties off my wrists.

  I exhaled with relief, and rubbed the soreness out of my arms. The freedom was short lived, though, as the monk took a pair of metal handcuffs next, and quickly locked my wrists in front of me.

  “I believe you’ll find them more familiar than the plastic ties,” the man in the seat mocked me. “Although, I have to apologize, these might be rougher than what you’re used to—they aren’t padded with silk after
all.”

  “And that makes all the difference.” I couldn’t hold back.

  He levelled a heavy stare at me.

  Glaring back at him, I took the towel and wiped the sweat and grime off my face and hands.

  “Why am I here?”

  “A much better question.” He nodded, with approval.

  “I really don’t care for whatever game you’re trying to play here,” I snapped. “I want some answers. Who are you?”

  He ignored my burgeoning rage, staring at me calmly.

  Brother Lukian brought a tray with tea, a bottle of water and some finger food, setting it on the table, then picked up the used towels and left again.

  Immediately, I grabbed the bottle, twisted the cap off and half-emptied it in a few thirsty gulps.

  “My name is Steffen Keller.” The man lifted one of the teacups. “Have you heard of me?”

  It took just a moment for me to remember where I knew this name from, and when I did, the shock was too great to hide—Keller’s expression melted into contentment as he watched my face.

  “I see you have.”

  “You were the one behind the summons of Vadim.”

  “Valefor,” he corrected, annoyance clearly audible in his voice. “Don’t kid yourself, using human names doesn’t make them human. He’s been hiding behind Vadim for just over a year, but he’s been Valefor for close to a millennium.”

  “The name doesn’t really matter—” to me, I meant to say, but he cut me off.

  “Oh, but it does make all the difference. Especially, when you know how to use it.”

  “What do you want with him?”

  Keller leaned back, the teacup in his hand.

  “Your questions are getting better and better.” He smiled, but it never reached his cold, pale eyes. “I simply want things to go back to the way they were. Everything has been out of control lately, as I’m sure you know, and I need the Incubi Grand Master to bring his fucking demons back to order.” His head jerked compulsively, any shadow of a smile gone.

  “Why would you want to go back?” I asked in disbelief. “The changes have only been for the better—”

  “That’s what you think.” His mouth curved in disdain. “But your judgment has obviously been impacted by lust.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?” I set my cup on the table. The undisguised contempt in his voice, combined with the earlier insult by one of his men, only set me more on edge.

  “No need to feign being offended here. You, as well as a handful of other women of questionable morals, have decided to play with the demons, to risk your lives by jumping into bed with them. Unfortunately, your behaviour has bigger consequences. And I’m not just talking about filthy half-breed offspring.” His features creased into a grimace of utter disgust.

  “I don’t see how letting Incubi and their families live in peace could result in any harm to you or others,” I challenged.

  “Oh, you will see soon enough, I’m sure. There are plenty of historical accounts on Incubi behaviour among people from the times when they were allowed to roam free. Before the Priory found a way to contain them, the Incubi lurked around towns and villages and entered the homes of innocents to force them into having lewd dreams so they could prey on them. When attacked, the demons killed in cold blood. Murders were rampant. Is that what you want to return to? Because once they are allowed anywhere near people, they cannot be trusted to keep their hunger in check. And I’m sure you’re aware of their strength. No man is a match for a demon in hand-to-hand combat.”

  “That’s not how it is, though,” I protested. “They can learn to control their hunger. And once they find a partner, they’re loyal to them. A married Incubus is not a danger to society in any way whatsoever.”

  “How can you be so sure?” He set his teacup on the table with a little more force than was necessary. “There is no data that backs up your belief. Even as a Forgiven, an Incubus is expected to live for centuries. How can anyone guarantee that the relationship would last that long? Marriages fall apart. Couples grow tired of each other. People want more, no matter how much they are given. Who is to know what demons would want a hundred years from now, two hundred, three?”

  “You can’t keep punishing them out of fear of some what-if.” My blood heated with anger that had even shoved the fear aside. “The old ways were no longer working—”

  “They can work again!” Keller exclaimed with force. “All Incubi will return to the Bases. The old and tried rules of the treaty will be reinstated. And peace will reign over all of us once again.” He spread his hands in an all-encompassing gesture, as if delivering a blessing to the world.

  “Except for those select few who’d be fed to the Incubi annually,” I pointed out, flabbergasted he really seemed to believe in benefits of the old order.

  “Some new rules will be required this time,” he conceded. “We’ll need to ensure Handlers and Sources are kept separate from each other, to prevent this mess from ever happening again.”

  “The women will die in isolation.”

  “What are the lives of the few for the good of many?” He tilted his head to the side, a serene expression on his face as he mentally sacrificed lives of others in his plans for the future.

  “What’s in it for you?” I squinted my eyes at him, as if I could read his true motives if I looked closely. “What are you really hoping to gain?”

  “Is there a better reward for someone who has dedicated his life to the servitude of others?”

  His saintly expression didn’t fool me. I shook my head, making no effort to hide the revulsion in my voice. “There must be more in it for you.”

  He shifted uneasily in his seat but didn’t reply.

  “Did the Incubi Councils pay for the Sources?” I noted his facial muscles twitch at my question.

  “The scale of operations that the Priory has been running to ensure the smooth acquisition of the Sources is enormous. You can’t fathom the amount of work and planning it involves, as well as the resources it requires.”

  “So, Incubi paid, but not anymore. Right? Now that no acquisitions are taking place, I bet the Priory’s income is dwindling. How about your own personal finances?” I dug deeper. “Was the request for more money on your list of demands for Vadim?”

  His mouth curved in a crooked smirk, Keller seemed to have abandoned any attempt to give his actions some moral ground. Elbows on the table, he steepled his fingers in front of him.

  “I am accustomed to a certain lifestyle, missy. One I’m not willing to give up just because a bunch of whores chose to fornicate with demons.” A flash of contempt distorted his features for a moment. “We needed that source of income. The Elder fails to see that without the Incubi and their money, the Priory will simply cease to exist.”

  “Is that why you kidnapped that woman in Canada, in September? To re-sell her back to the Council eventually?”

  “Kitty Jones was sourced and cleared just over a month prior.” He stabbed his finger through the air at me, as if to better drive his point in. “She was already dead to the world. You have no idea how much work it involves not only to declare a person legally dead, but to make everyone truly believe that, too. And all for what? To set her free just five weeks later?” He shook his head, his face flushed with anger. “Likely, she had formed no ties with any of the demons at the Base where she was held. I happened to get there conveniently early, before anyone else. Unfortunately, my work can only be as good as the people I hire. The idiots I had with me in Canada let her go.”

  I leaned against the back of my seat to distance myself from him as much as possible.

  “So, you’re ready to start with kidnappings and murders again. For a buck.”

  “Oh, I assure you, there is much more at stake than that. The wealth amassed by the Incubi is enormous. Most of them aren’t even aware of the true value of their riches. All of which ultimately came from humans, anyway, in one way or another. And to humans it shall return.
”

  By selling other humans.

  Anger vibrated in me at the thought. However, I reined it in the best I could, realising there was no point in arguing with him on this. Keller was too deep into his way of thinking—his actions proved it.

  “How do I fit into all of this?” I asked, instead.

  “I need you to ensure Valefor’s co-operation,” he said slowly. “The demon apparently obeys only you. So now you will obey my every word.”

  I flexed my jaw, my resolve hardening. “No. I won’t.”

  “But you will. I will make you.” Keller’s eyes narrowed into slits, cutting me from the inside with his piercing gaze. “I’ve had enough setbacks lately. In addition to that Kitty Jones fiasco, I’ve just lost a supplier in Toronto, Canada. His operation went up in flames, literally. There was nothing left to determine the cause of the fire. I cannot afford any more mistakes. You spoiled our attempts at getting Valefor to submit to me. You will make sure he does it this time.”

  “No.” I shook my head vehemently. “I know that the Priory hasn’t sanctioned this. You have absolutely no right—”

  “The Priory is weak,” he snapped. “The Elder’s strategy is too slow, and he refuses to listen to me when I say that more drastic measures have to be taken. Believe it or not, my idea for the future is actually more humane than his.”

  “What are you talking about?” A tendril of suspicion licked my insides.

  “The official plan of the Priory is to exterminate every single one of your precious Incubi as soon as the very last one of them becomes mortal.”

  “What?” The cup dropped from my weakened fingers, as terror rushed over me like an avalanche at his sudden revelation.

  “Whores like yourself gave the Priory a way to finally kill the demons—something our members have been searching for, for centuries.”

  “Oh my God,” I whispered, staring without seeing, shock choking me.

  I remembered how eager the Incubi at the Base were to be Forgiven and how hopeful they were with the new agreement.