Consuming Damien (The Possessed Series Book 2)

by Tressa Rabbit

  Victoria’s sweet scent drifted up his nose, surrounding him in a web of lust that left him yearning for more. He nudged her hair back with his lips. “Do you know what you’re doing to me?”

  “Are you two going to shoot pool or make out on the table?”

  Gina’s abrupt question brought Damien out of his hypnotic haze. He let go of Tori’s hands and reluctantly stepped back. “I was merely showing the lady the correct way to hold the cue.”

  “Obviously.” Gina laughed. “It looks as if she’s figured it out.”

  Tori struck the ball with a precision that impressed Damien. He folded his arms across his chest, grinning at his date’s back. “Are you hustling me?”

  With a flip of her hair, Tori leaned across the table. “Nine ball in the corner pocket.” Another precise shot.

  “I’m assuming you commandeered the stripes,” he murmured sarcastically.

  Working her way around the table to study her next move, Tori sent him a wink. “Did I forget to mention that? Twelve ball in the side pocket.”

  Damien watched in amusement as his date proceeded to make every shot she called. “I believe I’m been hustled.”

  “Why would you think that?” Tori laughed, finishing off the game with a smirk.

  “Oh, I don’t know. Perhaps because you singlehandedly won the game without so much as a near miss?”

  “She’s been the reigning champion for three years in a row,” Gina announced with a grin. “She also won the—”

  “Gina,” Tori interrupted. “I’m sure Damien doesn’t want to hear about my wild days.”

  “On the contrary.” Damien trailed over to stand next to Gina. “I would love to hear every sordid detail.”

  Tori laid the pool stick across the table and rushed to Damien’s side. “How about another drink? Yours looks watered down.”

  Damien conceded with a smile. “I’ll stop prying, Miss Pool Shark. Would you ladies like another beer?”

  After a nod from them both, Damien sidled up to the bar to place his order. He tuned out the music and the murmuring of voices surrounding him and homed in on Tori’s next words.

  “I can’t believe you were going to tell him about the wet T-shirt contest, Gina. I was only eighteen years old without a lick of sense.”

  The brunette instantly fired back. “It was for a good cause. Besides, those babies you got there are something to be proud of.”

  Tori’s next words stung him. “A good cause or not, Damien isn’t like us, Gina. He’s classy and refined, not the type to date trailer trash.”

  “You’re not trailer trash, Victoria. There’s a difference in growing up poor and being trash.”

  Damien turned in time to see the unguarded look on Tori’s face. Pain and something else he couldn’t name reflected in her eyes. Perhaps fear? He wasn’t sure.

  “I know,” Tori’s voice carried over the crowd. “It’s just that…”

  “Just what?” Gina persisted.

  “I could never compete with the women I’m sure he’s accustomed to.”

  “Bullshit. You’re one of the funniest, most intelligent women I know. Not to mention gorgeous, with a rack that I would kill for.”

  The laugh that burst from Victoria stuttered his vampire heart. The tinkering sound bounced around the room unnoticed by all but him.

  He couldn’t seem to move as she continued to chuckle. The husky sound wrapped around him in a well of warmth he could get lost in.

  Voices floated about the room in a murmur of nonsense, blending with the country music blaring from a nearby jukebox. But he heard only Victoria.

  She glanced up and met his stare, her eyes still twinkling with mirth. Damien realized how screwed he was in that moment. Consequences be damned, he would have her, no matter what was at stake.

  Pushing his doubts aside, he took a deep breath, grabbed their drinks, and weaved his way back to Tori’s side.

  She smiled up at him with insecurity lingering in her eyes.

  He set the beer on their table and extended his hand to Victoria. “May I have this dance?”

  Tori laid her palm in his, sending warmth spreading up his arm to settle inside his heart.

  He led her to the dance floor and pulled her close, his mouth resting next to her ear. “Do you know how beautiful you are?”

  She remained stiff, keeping her gaze trained on his shoulder.

  “Relax, Victoria. I won’t bite...without your permission.”

  That brought her head up. “I’m not afraid of you, Damien.”

  “Then what are you afraid of?”

  “Me.” The softly spoken confession, unheard by all but him, was not what he’d expected to hear. “Excuse me.”

  “Tori?” He reached out, but she’d already pulled away, rushing toward the restrooms situated in the back.

  Damien returned to the table where Gina sat sipping on her beer.

  “That was quick,” she pointed out, shifting her gaze in the direction of Victoria’s mad dash through the crowd.

  “She is visiting the ladies’ room.”

  “I’ll go check on her, make sure she’s not sick.” Gina immediately vacated her seat and made a beeline toward the restrooms.

  Damien knew something was off with Victoria. Twice in one night she’d exhibited signs of anxiety. Could it be him causing her unease? He sure hoped the hell not. He had no intentions of walking away from her. Although he should.

  He’d been sent to the small town of DeFuniak Springs by his bereaved uncle Azrael to seek out and destroy the Sanders family; first by smearing the Sanders’ name politically and then by taking Alfred’s life.

  Azrael’s longtime enemy, Alfred Sanders, had allegedly been involved in the destruction of two of Azrael’s million-dollar art shipments several months back.

  Ursula, Azrael’s beloved wife, had been caught in the crossfire of the fighting that ensured. It ended with her head being removed by one of Sanders’ goons. Azrael became insane with rage, vowing retribution on the entire Sanders family.

  Damien had left for DeFuniak Springs shortly after reading the article on Mack Doyle and the suspicion surrounding his disappearance nearly seven months before.

  After seeing Victoria’s picture in that article, he told himself that she would be his way in, but the truth of the matter was, he didn’t need a way in. If he were honest with himself, he had been anxious to meet her since the day he’d opened that paper and gazed upon her face.

  She had sad eyes. Something in their depths had called to him, summoned him to her side. Perhaps he’d grown addled in his old age. And he was old, he thought, glancing in the direction of the restroom. He might not look it, but he’d been alive longer than he cared to remember.

  Chapter Eleven

  A knock on the door startled Tori as she splashed cool water on the overheated skin of her face. She seemed to be doing a lot of that lately. “Just a minute.”

  “It’s me. Let me in,” Gina’s muffled voice called back.

  Tori quickly dried her face and opened the door. “Hey. I was just finishing up.”

  Gina pushed her way inside, blocking the exit with her tall frame. “What’s wrong? You’re not sick, are you?”

  “No. I just got a little overheated. Really, I’m fine.”

  “You don’t look fine. Talk to me.”

  Victoria debated on how much to divulge to Gina. She had never opened up to anyone about her past, afraid she’d shatter into a million pieces if her horrors were voiced. It was as if speaking of them would somehow make them a reality and something she could no longer keep hidden.

  She decided that evading would work in her favor at the moment. “I’m not feeling well.” That much was true, at least on an emotional level. “I think I need to go home and lie down.”

  Gina wrapped an arm around Tori’s shoulders and led her back to the busy pool room, guiding them effortlessly through the crowd. They stopped at the table that Damien stood next to. “She’s not feeling well,�
�� the brunette announced above the music.

  “Damien was instantly at Victoria’s side. “Are you all right?” Without waiting for an answer, he scooped her up into his arms. “Let’s get you out of here.”

  Tori felt like the worst kind of ass imaginable in that moment. She despised deception of any kind, but thought it a better alternative to pity.

  “Thanks for your help, Cherokee. I’ll call you tomorrow.” Tori sent her friend an apologetic look as Damien pivoted toward the door.

  “No problem. Talk to you then.” Gina briefly squeezed Tori’s arm before letting her hand fall away.

  “I’m really sorry, Damien,” Tori, muttered, resting her head on his shoulder to avoid the stares of curious onlookers. “I hope I didn’t ruin your evening.”

  He maneuvered them through the smoke-filled room, not stopping until he reached the rental car.

  Unlocking the door, he deposited her onto the passenger’s seat. “You didn’t ruin anything. I had a wonderful time tonight.”

  Damien shut the door and rounded the vehicle, climbing behind the wheel with a small smile. “It was that nasty sushit you ate for dinner.”

  “Sushit?” The corner of her mouth lifted. “That’s a first. How come you ate sashimi if you didn’t like it?”

  He appeared humored by her question. “Aside from wanting to impress you?”

  Tori couldn’t have heard him right. “You, trying to impress me?”

  “Is that so terribly surprising? Look at you. You’re a beautiful woman with an amazing sense of humor. I’m sure you could have any man you set your sights on.”

  An unfamiliar feeling washed over her, accompanied by relief. “I was thinking the same thing about you.”

  “That I’m a beautiful woman?”

  It took effort not to laugh. “No. That you could have anyone you want.”

  “Are you including yourself in that assumption?”

  Grateful for the shadowed interior of the car to hide her embarrassment, she turned to stare out the window. “We don’t always get what we want in life, Damien.”

  “Ah, but sometimes we do.”

  “Not in my case.”

  Damien touched her hand, but she pulled away. “Please. I’d rather not talk about me and my issues.”

  “Very well,” he conceded, backing out of the parking lot and turning the car toward the main highway.

  Tori’s thoughts were scattered as they rode in silence back to Scruples. She was playing with fire where Damien was concerned. If she didn’t put the brakes on now, she had no doubt who would end up burned. And it wouldn’t be him.

  They arrived at Scruples a few minutes later, and Tori quickly jumped out. “Have a good night, Mr. Alaska. And thank you for the date.”

  Damien rounded the car, stopping next to her. “May I see you again?”

  Her mind screamed no a dozen times as she stood there staring into his pale blue eyes. “Yes,” she whispered instead.

  He suddenly pulled her to him, holding her in a firm yet gentle embrace. She could feel his heart beating beneath her ear, his breath tickling her ear. But it was his words she felt the most. “Don’t go.”

  * * * *

  Victoria rolled over in bed for the tenth time as images of Damien’s face plagued her. The disappointment, the questions swimming in the depths of his blue eyes when she’d pulled away and left him standing next to her car.

  How could she tell him that she wanted nothing more than to lie in his arms all night, to allow him inside her body without fear of an anxiety attack? She couldn’t. Her stepfather had made sure of that.

  It had taken her over a year of dating Justin before she’d trusted him enough to have sex with him. Even then, she could never fully relax.

  Tori loved to kiss and be kissed, to be held and touched, but the feel of her body being entered by another person somehow left her feeling dirty to her very soul.

  She’d managed to keep that part of herself hidden from Justin, masking her feelings with laughter and no small amount of snark.

  The forced humor only worked for so long, leaving the relationship in constant turmoil until Tori decided to end things with her lifelong friend.

  Justin deserved better than her. He needed a woman who could give herself fully to him, without reservations and free of hang-ups.

  Tori thought of Claire and Jaxon, the love and happiness they shared. They were perfect for each other, trusted each other, and shared a beautiful baby boy together. All the things Tori wanted but would never have.

  She wouldn’t see Damien again, she decided with an ache in her chest. It would be better for them both for her to walk away before he saw how damaged she really was.

  Her gaze landed on the framed faces resting on her dresser top. Claire with her dancing eyes, Jaxon and his cat that swallowed the canary look, and lastly, her own laughing face.

  Tori could see the strain lurking behind her smile. The sadness and insecurity.

  Her gaze traveled across every captured memory, every frozen moment in time.

  What the hell? She threw her legs over the side of the bed and stood. The picture of Jaxon pushing her in the swing at Lake DeFuniak was missing.

  She threaded her way over to the dresser, noticing a light smattering of dust surrounding the neat and clean place where the frame normally sat.

  Who would have moved it? There had been no one in the house but Ben, and he’d never left the den.

  Her heart began to pound as her gaze darted around the room, touching on everything from the half-open closet door to the shadows beneath the bed.

  Had her stepfather been inside her home? Tori shuddered and flipped on the light before moving from room to room, checking for evidence of Harvey Cohen.

  Harvey had married Tori’s mother, Vivian, when Tori was in kindergarten. He’d courted Vivian with flowers, movies, and dinners, taking the young Victoria along with them.

  He’d been a regular knight in shining armor until a few months after the wedding.

  The first signs of abuse had come in the form of striking Tori’s mother after he’d lost his job and then spent the night drinking until dawn. He’d begun hitting her more and more as the months passed without any work prospects.

  Vivian took the abuse, hiding behind closed doors while the bruising healed, telling Tori that Harvey was sick and couldn’t help himself.

  It wasn’t until Victoria reached puberty that she understood how sick he truly was.

  Shortly after her eleventh birthday, Harvey had begun entering Tori’s room at night, threatening to harm her mother if she made a sound.

  Tori had died a little inside with every touch she’d endured from the monster known as her stepfather, until five years later, not long after her sixteenth birthday, when the Murphy sisters had introduced her to the sleep-inducing drug known as belladonna. A few drops in Harvey’s beer would render him unconscious until long after Tori boarded the bus for school every morning.

  That was until she’d been caught in the act…

  Chapter Twelve

  Damien stood outside Tori’s window, watching her through a small crack in the blinds. He was about to leave when she slid from the bed and moved to stand in front of her dresser.

  She’d noticed the missing picture of her and Sanders, Damien guessed, shifting his position to get a better view.

  The light abruptly came on, bathing Tori in a soft glow of pastels.

  He watched her search the closet and check under the bed before darting from the room in a rush.

  She returned a few minutes later, holding that damnable shotgun she kept by the front door.

  A range of emotions danced across her face as she stood there barefoot, clutching that double barrel. Damien had never wanted to kiss her more than he did in that moment.

  With a sigh, she turned to climb back in bed, and Damien’s breath hitched. There, marring her beautiful back, were scars. So many scars.

  A rage unlike anything he’d ever felt boil
ed up within him. Someone had hurt his Tori.

  Damien wanted to bust through the wall and tear the house down board by board and take her far from here to a place where she’d never know pain again. No one would dare to touch her or bring her grief without going through him first.

  Instead, he watched in silence as she pulled back the covers, propped the gun next to the headboard, and sat on the side of the bed.

  The tears swimming in her eyes were nearly his undoing. How was he supposed to stand there doing nothing while she suffered alone?

  “Tonight, you die.”

  Damien had been so wrapped up in Victoria’s pain, he’d allowed Ben to slip up on him again.

  He spun to face the giant intruder, his fangs already elongating. “Leave us, familiar. This is none of your concern.”

  “Tori is my concern,” Ben growled, hair sprouting along his cheeks and chin.

  “Don’t you think if I wanted to harm her, I would have done so already? I certainly wouldn’t be standing out here like an idiot, explaining myself to the likes of you. Or is it ewe?”

  “Very funny, vampire,” Ben responded sarcastically. “It doesn’t matter to me why you’re out here. It only matters that you don’t remain out here.”

  Damien relaxed slightly but kept his fangs at the ready. “Who beat her?” He could barely speak the words aloud.

  “Beat her? What are you talking about, demon? If this is a trick, I swear I—”

  “It’s no trick. She has markings on her back. At least a dozen scars.”

  The familiar’s face paled slightly. “I know not of her scars, but rest assured I will get to the bottom of it. Now tell me, why are you here again?”

  Damien ignored Ben’s question and demanded an answer of his own. “Why didn’t you tell her of our earlier meet-and-greet on her lawn?”

  “I had my reasons.”

  “What reasons might that be? Perhaps you were avoiding having to explain your own purpose for being here? Does she know what you are?”

  “She knows,” Ben snarled, taking a step closer. “Let me make something clear to you, bloodsucker. Tori has been through enough in the past few months to last her a lifetime. I will not stand back and allow her to be hurt by the likes of you. Now be gone from here before I rip out your black heart and feed it to her cat.”