Burning Midnight

by Rose Wulf

  Gwen’s eyes widened. “Wh-what?”

  Smirking again, the demoness said, “Looks like someone’s already committed quite the sin.”

  ****

  According to Sinclair, Knox had been right in his suspicion that the demoness who’d attacked at Gwen’s apartment was the same Trix the idiot twins had referenced before. Apparently, Trix didn’t often come surface-side, and her master usually kept her on a fairly restricted leash. All of those things explained why Knox had never even heard her name before. They also vastly increased his certainty that the demon who’d once stood to inherit Gwen’s soul was a major player. That was a big problem. Gwen had gone and gotten herself caught in their grasp.

  Worse, she’d walked voluntarily into their hands.

  Knox threw his fist into the wall in front of him. That stupid woman! What the hell was she thinking? But he suspected he knew what she’d been thinking. He’d suspected it the moment he’d heard the story. The best way to get to a vulnerable human was to threaten someone they loved in order to coerce them into cooperating. Her brother really was the only way he could think of for Trix to have done that.

  Time was not on their side now.

  “Twice in twenty-four hours.” Knox lowered his arm and straightened, turning to face Sinclair as the demon walked up from the shadow of the alley. The scowl on Sinclair’s face echoed the tone in his voice. “You know I don’t like you well enough for this.”

  The feeling was entirely mutual, but so far Sinclair had given Knox his only piece of decent information. Information he hadn’t realized at the time he’d need more of so quickly. Still, he tried to keep his desperation from showing. “Trix. How do I find her?”

  Sinclair came to a stop several paces back and tucked his hands into his pockets. “Are you developing an obsession?”

  Knox locked his jaw until he found an acceptable answer. “Depends on how you mean.”

  “What makes you think I know?”

  “It’s been a couple days since she breached the surface,” Knox replied. “You would’ve made it a priority.” He hoped. Sinclair had a reputation of keeping track of all the big players, or at least the big movements, but Knox knew enough about reputations to know they weren’t always the reality.

  Sinclair hummed as if he were mulling over Knox’s words. Seconds passed before he finally turned around, saying, “You don’t have anything worth the trade.” Knox saw the shadows start to swirl at Sinclair’s feet and his temper snapped. This was his best chance to find Gwen. He couldn’t let the asshole just walk off.

  “How ’bout your life?”

  Sinclair stopped walking, but by the time he’d started to turn again, Knox was already in motion.

  Knox caught him by the shirt collar with one hand and threw his other fist into Sinclair’s face with a satisfyingly solid impact. He pulled his fist back only a few inches, uncurled his fingers, and wrapped a vise of energy around Sinclair’s throat. Releasing Sinclair’s shirt in order to capture his hands in a similar grip of energy, Knox pulled the other demon’s face in close. “I’m not fucking around here, Sinclair. You’re gonna tell me how to find Trix. Either right now, or once I’ve removed enough body parts to help you say it.”

  “So she has something of yours,” Sinclair replied, his voice strained by Knox’s semi-visible chokehold. All at once, he jerked back and brought up one long leg, kicking Knox in the chest and forcing him backward, away from Sinclair.

  Knox stumbled back, his restraints shattering.

  “I don’t have your answer,” Sinclair said, already smoothing down his shirt before Knox could do more than take another step toward him. “But I’ve heard she’s after her master’s stolen soul.” Sinclair leveled a pointed stare on Knox. “I’d wager you have until they figure out how to corrupt her. At which point the mortal will die.”

  “You don’t actually think that helps, do you?” Knox demanded. In truth, he’d been too focused on the simple concept of Gwen’s impending death to factor in that her captors would first need to re-corrupt her soul. A thought which brought with it a pang of something incredibly unfamiliar—guilt.

  “Then you’re asking the wrong questions,” Sinclair replied.

  “Dammit, Sin—”

  “Don’t look for the lion,” Sinclair said, “look for the lion tamer.” He took a step backward, his body blending with the shadows, and added, “Achan.”

  Knox stopped in his tracks as Sinclair vanished. Achan.

  That was Trix’s master. The demon who’d once held the contract for Gwen’s soul.

  Achan. Fuck.

  That was bad. That was so much worse than bad.

  ****

  Gwen was so, so confused.

  One minute, she was being threatened with imminent death at the hands of a bitch and her mysterious boss demon. The next, she’d been whisked out of the dungeon-like chamber by a nameless, suave guy—she assumed also a demon—and into a luxurious suite. Where she was being … pampered.

  She’d taken a deliciously hot shower, scrubbed off the grime of sweat and fear and any remnants of contamination from that nasty dungeon room. She’d brushed her teeth sparkling clean. She’d been a little less excited about wrapping herself only in the fluffy terrycloth robe—white, of all colors—but her other option was putting on her dirty, stained clothing. So robe it was. Except when she stepped out of the bathroom, she found her old clothes gone and a neatly folded pile of clothes waiting at the foot of the bed. A dress, she realized, as well as fresh panties. No bra, but, of all the things, she could deal with that.

  Gwen ducked back into the bathroom, flustered to see that the panties fit perfectly, and slipped into the dress after. She examined herself in the mirror, lips scrunched. She really wasn’t one for dresses without a reason, and definitely not this more casual type of dress. Thin shoulder-strap sleeves, a loose, low neckline. The material deliberately bunched a little together just below and between her breasts, accentuating them, before flowing down and out. The skirt ended around her knees. It didn’t really suit her, but, it was better than a robe or clothes she’d recently thrown up in.

  Once again, she steeled herself to exit the bathroom and pulled the door open. The bedroom looked just as it had minutes ago and she breathed a sigh of relief. What the hell’s going on? She thought for sure she’d been surrendering herself to a certain, fairly swift death. Maybe stalled by a little unthinkable torture first. But this? This made no sense at all. It was like she’d stepped into an alternate dimension.

  Gwen let her eyes skim around the simple bedroom. A king-sized bed in the center of the room. The wall opposite the bathroom opened to a respectable closet. On the wall above the bed there was a window-sized square that glowed with the fluorescence of daylight, but it wasn’t an actual window. She’d already checked. The room didn’t boast a lot in the way of additional furniture, only a decent-sized nightstand and a matching dresser beside the open doorway that led to the main space. Still, in truth, it functioned just fine. Except for the whole ‘fake window’ thing.

  Releasing a breath in an effort to calm her confused nerves, Gwen carefully exited the bedroom. And nearly screamed at the sight of the suave demon from earlier reclining on the leather sofa. One arm stretched out over the back of the couch casually.

  “I see you found the dress,” he said. “I didn’t think you’d want to get back into those dirty clothes.”

  Gwen swallowed. “I, uh, yeah,” she said. “Thank you.” Seriously, what is going on? Who is this guy? There’s no way I’ve been rescued. Right? Surely there would have been a commotion if he’d rescued her. Not that she knew why a stranger would rescue her in the first place.

  He smiled and patted the seat next to him. “Come, sit.”

  Her feet started moving of their own accord. But why did she have to sit in that spot? There were two other pieces of sitting furniture in the room, as well as barstools tucked up against the kitchenette’s island. Plenty of choices. Yet he wanted her to si
t beside him. Yet her feet seemed to want to give in to his request.

  He rested his hand on her shoulder after she’d taken the seat beside him. “How are you feeling? Better?”

  Gwen nodded. “Yes. Thank you.” Oh my God, are you a broken record? Ask questions, speak sentences, say something! She cleared her throat self-consciously and drew a breath to force out the words her flustered tongue was struggling with. “Who are you? Why are you helping me?” Are you helping me?

  His hand slipped from her shoulder, down, to curl over hers. “I’m Achan.” He smiled a little wider. “I guess you could say I don’t agree with locking beautiful women up in dungeons.”

  “Oh.” Was it that simple? Was that a good reason? Did she care if that was the real reason if it got her away from the bitch who intended to torture her until she broke and did something awful? Something that would thoroughly taint her soul. She didn’t even want to imagine what that would be.

  Gwen returned Achan’s smile as best she could. “I’m Gwen,” she said, in lieu of thanking him for the fourth time in less than as many hours.

  “Gwen,” he repeated, slowly, as if tasting it. “Tell me, Gwen, are you hungry?”

  She opened her mouth to decline, feeling less interested in food than she was in finding a way home, but he was already pulling her to her feet.

  “You must be. There’s food in the fridge.”

  “Wait, Achan,” Gwen said as he tugged her with him into the kitchen area. She tightened her fingers around his hand and pulled on his arm to get his attention. “Achan.”

  He stopped and turned to her, stepping into her personal space. “What is it, Gwen?” His mysterious, captivating pale-gray eyes locked onto hers. There was something in his presence, in this moment, that had her body warming up. The hushed, deep tone of his voice didn’t help. “Perhaps … this isn’t what you’re hungry for?” His words, that vibrating tone, made it all worse. She felt as if there was a part of her clawing at the surface, desperate to jump on him.

  This is wrong.

  What was the matter with her? She didn’t just lust after men she’d met an hour earlier!

  An image of Knox popped into her head and her heart kicked up a notch. Even her fling with Knox had been uncharacteristic of her. He’d certainly been the first demon she’d gone to bed with. Oh, God… She blinked up into Achan’s eyes. Do I have a thing for demons?

  Achan lifted his free hand and stroked his thumb under her lower lip. “If there’s something else you want, Gwen,” he began quietly, “just ask.”

  Knox. She needed to focus on Knox. By now he’d surely realized she’d disappeared. And her poor brother… She sucked in a breath. What would that bitch demon do to Ben now that she’d escaped the dungeon? “Home,” she whispered. She reached up, grabbing Achan’s lifted wrist, and held it tightly. “Please, take me home. I’ll pay you back for the dress if you want.”

  He stared at her for a second, and she wondered suddenly if his kindness was an act. But then he straightened. “The dress is a gift. But you’re going to have to tell me where ‘home’ is.”

  Gwen released a breath, loosened her grip of his wrists, and rattled off her address.

  Achan gave her a nod. “Then safe travels, beautiful Gwen. And stand still for a moment.”

  She offered him a sincere smile as a new burst of shadows swirled up, engulfing her, and her vision once again went black.

  Chapter Ten

  Her vision cleared, leaving her only briefly disoriented, and Gwen found herself standing again in her apartment. For a moment, it looked exactly as she remembered leaving it. A sense of relief formed in her belly and she released a breath, but even as that relief brought tears to the backs of her eyes, she heard something she hadn’t expected. From the hallway just out of sight.

  “It had to have been you!” The voice was Ben’s, though she was a bit startled at how angry he was. She turned to call out to him as she heard a solid thud hit the wall.

  “So what if it was?” That wasn’t Ben. That was Knox. But his tone was all wrong. It was … cold. Almost dispassionate, with just a hint of a taunt. “Are you gonna be a man about it? Or is this the part where you run crying to your ex?”

  No. This was all wrong. What was going on?

  Gwen darted to the hall and around the corner, coming to a stop at the sight of her baby brother holding Knox up against the wall by his shirt collar. Knox looked vaguely bored, with one eyebrow slightly arched. Challenging. Ben was nearly the opposite. He seemed nearly wild, his expression twisted and marred with anger and pain.

  “Damn you,” Ben started.

  “Stop it!” Gwen shouted, her heart pounding as bewilderment flooded her. She didn’t understand this scene at all. “Both of you, stop it!” She jumped forward, shoving Ben back, and placed herself between them. Immediately overcrowding her hallway.

  “G-Gwen?” Ben stammered, shock overriding his rage. “You’re back?” He seemed to gather himself because he threw his arms around her and crushed her to him. “You’re back! God, Gwen, I was so worried! Are you okay? Are you hurt? What happened? What did they do to you?”

  Guilt flared fresh within her. She didn’t want to think of how much she must have scared him, disappearing the way she had. “Ben, I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I’m okay. I promise I’m okay.” She went to return his embrace, opting to console her brother before addressing their stupid fight, but Knox grabbed hold of her forearm.

  “Gwen, get away from him,” Knox said firmly. He followed the order with a sharp jerk, unceremoniously yanking her from her brother’s startled embrace and back into his own chest. He wrapped his other arm around her stomach. “He’s not as innocent as he’s letting on.”

  Gwen’s mouth fell open. “What? He’s my brother! He’s not a threat to me!”

  “Get your hands off my sister!” Ben exclaimed simultaneously.

  “He’s lying to you,” Knox replied. “Why do you think he helped lure you out of the house?”

  “What?”

  “Excuse me?”

  Knox didn’t budge. “He was never in danger. He’s behind the whole thing.”

  “That’s bullshit!” Ben shouted. “I would never betray my sister!”

  “Knox, what the hell?” Gwen snapped. “Let go of me. You’re wrong about Ben, he’s innocent. Hell, he doesn’t understand half of this stuff!” She tried to squirm out of Knox’s hold but he held tighter. “Knox!”

  “No,” he said. “He’s faking it, Gwen.”

  “You’re so full of—”

  Knox cut Ben off. “He blames you for ruining things with his girlfriend. He blames you for taking your parents away.”

  Gwen froze, not wanting to believe Knox’s words but unable to deny the flicker of fear that there may have been some truth in them. These were things she’d worried about herself.

  “Your life,” Knox continued, “has brought him heartbreak. That’s how he sees it, Gwen. And he hates you for it.”

  No… That couldn’t possibly be true. Ben had sworn he didn’t hold her responsible for either of those things. He’d told her himself that Jaelyn was the one to blame for their failed relationship. That it was their parents’ fault for making such an abhorrent deal. Surely he hadn’t been lying all this time. He’s wrong. He has to be wrong.

  “Goddamn you, demon,” Ben said, his voice so startlingly dark that it jarred Gwen out of her panicked thoughts. “Don’t fill my sister’s head with that crap. You’re the one lying to her! You’re a demon, for crying out loud! Lying is what you do!” He shifted his desperate brown gaze to Gwen, pleading, “Gwen, please, believe me. This guy’s the one who’s really been working with the demons who kidnapped you. You can’t trust him!”

  She swallowed heavily and her heart clenched tight in her chest. She didn’t want to believe that, either. For as absurd as she found the concept that her baby brother would betray her the way Knox was saying, she had a hard time accepting the reverse idea, too. Even though t
he two were obviously pitted against each other here, and in this moment, to believe one was to condemn the other. Could they both be operating on faulty information?

  “Gwen,” Ben pleaded.

  “Stop it,” Gwen said again, surprised at the tears in her voice. “Stop it!”

  Eyes widening, Ben said, “Gwen … you can’t believe him?”

  Knox pulled her back into his chest. “You have to,” he said, “before you give him another opening.”

  This isn’t happening. “You’re both wrong!” They had to be. There had to be some other explanation. Her brother, her only living family, couldn’t have betrayed her, too. It would kill her. As for Knox … she didn’t know why, but the thought of him having been lying to her, manipulating her, it tore at her heart. She wasn’t familiar with that kind of pain. Maybe it didn’t make sense to feel so certain of a demon, especially one who’d once tried to kill her, but she did. She really did. Somehow, someway, they both had to be wrong.

  “Gwen, he’s a demon,” Ben argued, spitting the word.

  “Because humans are so perfect,” Knox returned bitingly. “You’re just a product of your upbringing. All Gwen is to you is a means to an end.”

  Gwen shifted, trying to turn enough to place her hand on Knox’s chest, as if she could hold him back. “Knox, stop.” This verbal battle was getting them nowhere.

  “You don’t know anything,” Ben said, his voice low. “But I have been doing some research.”

  Gwen’s blood ran cold. She turned her gaze back to her brother. “Research…?”

  Ben reached behind him and pulled out a long dagger. Gwen’s eyes widened at the sight. Her brother was not the kind of guy who used weapons. “I’m sorry, Gwen,” he said. “This is for your own good.”

  “You think I’m just going to let you kill her like this?” Knox asked incredulously. “You’ve got a lot of nerve, kid.”

  Ben lifted an uncharacteristically hard glare up at Knox and Gwen knew the dagger wasn’t meant for her. “No,” he said. Then he dove forward.