Demon Spelled (21 page)

“Yes. That has no bearing on why I’m here. At the request of a…friend, I’m here to provide you with some comfort.” After Sanja awoke the last time the prior evening, she’d wept in his arms. Thinking she pined for her former life, he’d grown angry. After he’d forced her to explain she admitted she worried her mother fretted about her welfare. Only when he’d realized she hadn’t cried because she wanted to return to her life had his temper calmed. If the situations had been reversed, he could understand her feelings. He’d comforted her the only way he knew how, by rolling her to her back and eating her pussy. Sometime afterward, while she slept and he and Lyx took turns cuddling with her, he decided a visit to Sybil was finally due. He’d promised Jakira anyway, so now seemed like the perfect opportunity. Not that he had any intention of letting Sanja know what he’d done. “Your daughter is safe. Believe that or don’t, it’s up to you.”

“You dropped your magic for a few seconds when I rattled you.” She smirked.

Shit. He’d suspected he had.

“I always knew the stuffy accountant you presented wasn’t your real appearance. For the record, the real you is much more appealing.
And
, more importantly, one of the two men I saw Erica with. I assume the purple-skinned demon is Lyx’s genuine looks?”

He considered not answering the question, but ultimately decided no harm would come from the admission. “Yes.”

“Then she’s where she belongs.” Sybil wound her hair into a bun on the back of her head and secured it with a pencil. “She saw you once when she was about four or five. You were too busy ranting about me selling a product to some idiot that didn’t know how to use it.” Troz remembered the time. “She recognized you right off, calling you ‘mine’. I performed a spell on her to make her forget you because she was obsessed with you after that. Had to do something, but she still should’ve innately recognized you. I bet you had no real trouble out of her either.”

He tilted his head to the side and studied the witch. “Why didn’t you inform me? I could’ve taken her then, acclimated her to Baal easier.”

She rolled her eyes. “Ask me that question again
after
you have a child of your own.”

Placing his forearms on the counter, he pondered her meaning. He guessed she implied she hadn’t wanted to part with her offspring so early. Best to change the topic. “Know where I can find art supplies for Sanja?”

Sybil elevated her eyebrows. What about his question surprised her? “I have some in the back. I always kept them in stock for
Erica
.”

Fuck! He didn’t miss the severe enunciation of Sanja’s birth name, and the fact that he’d slipped up and given her Sanja’s new demonic name. With a shrug, he tossed her a lopsided grin. What was done was done. “You purchased art supplies for a magic shop?”

“That girl of mine is a damn fine artist. I kept her stocked so she never ran out. You can have my entire supply.” She crooked her finger at him to follow her to the back of the store. She pushed open a door and they entered a supply room. Sybil opened a huge bag and loaded it with spiral bound notebooks that had ‘sketchpad’ written on the cover. Several other various cases went inside. “I don’t have the supplies for paint, but if she wants them—or if you want me to get them—I can.” She handed him the bag. “You want me to keep her supplied with this stuff the way I do Lyx cigars and tea and you coffee?”

“Yes.” Thinking of how much Sanja enjoyed coffee, he said, “Double my coffee order.”

“Spoiling her with art supplies and coffee.” Sybil’s stare left him feeling exposed.

Troz tried to play it cool and shrugged.

She apparently didn’t buy his nonchalant demeanor. “You’re going down, Troz.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“Nothing much. Drop the bullshit façade”—she made a circular motion with her finger indicating his face—“and I’ll show you Erica’s artwork.”

“You have some?”

She sent him a ‘you’re an imbecile’ look. “I’m a proud mother.” She seemed to think that explained everything. He had no idea what being a proud parent had to do with anything. “Maybe I’ll give you one or two. Consider it a wedding gift.”

Those pieces of artwork would cost him a fortune. No witch worth her title did anything for free. He hoped he kept his features bland, because he desperately wanted to possess a piece of something Sanja had crafted. “We’re not married or getting married. Why would I want to pay your price for one when I own the artist?”

“Own?” Her laughter pealed in the tiny room.

Sybil insinuating that he didn’t own Sanja irritated him. “I
bought
her. That means I own her.”

“Clueless. Totally clueless,” she muttered as she wrapped her hand around his arm and guided him out of the room and down another hall. After she pushed the door open, she motioned for him to enter. When he didn’t precede her into the room, she pointed to the opening. “The heart of the woman you
own
is inside.”

“How do you mean?”

“Just go in and look. You’ll understand.”

Giving her an expression full of disdain, he strode into the room. And discovered a space dedicated to Sanja’s artwork. Pencil drawings and paintings covered the room, all framed. And every one of them dark and twisted, depicting monsters that rose from the soil with half-torn pieces of demons in their mouths. A black crystal pyramid that looked a lot like the one in Baal. Then there was the pencil drawing of a woman that looked eerily like his Queen, Jakira. The photo that captured his attention, however, was the silhouette of three individuals, two obviously male. Only the woman’s naked back was depicted, but in her arms she cradled an infant while the profiles of the two males peered at the wee one she snuggled.

His breath froze in his lungs and he strode straight to the sketch. The profiles of the men looked an awful lot like him and Lyx.

He didn’t realize Sybil approached until she spoke. “Tell me do those men look as if they own her or as if they’re in love with her?”

In all honesty he wasn’t certain. As a kneejerk reaction, he said, “Demons can’t love.”

Sybil snorted.

While the expressions were detailed, and what he saw was definitely more than ownership, he had no foundation with love to give a candid estimation. The metal plate at the bottom of the picture titled it as ‘Our First Born’.

At his silence, she said, “Take it. My gift to you. There’s another you might appreciate.”

From the corner of his eye he could see her going through a stack of photos. The one she selected and held to him almost put him on his ass. Definitely a photo of the three of them in an erotic state of lovemaking. This one was titled ‘My Dream Lovers’.

She didn’t allow him to take the photo, but moved it out of his reach until he met her stare. Only after she spoke, did she release her hold on the picture. “I call these her prophetic collection.”

Troz could see why. Every scene in the room reminded him of something out of Baal.

“She said she dreams of the things she draws. Nightmares, not dreams, if you ask me.” Most humans would view Baal in that way. “But she hid these from me.” She tapped the glass on the photo he held, but he knew she referred to the other one with the three of them. “I only found them after she was snatched to Baal. That tells me these were personal to her.”

Proof she is meant for us
.

SANJA TUNED OUT
her best friend, Tiara, as she went on and on about her boredom in Baal. Unlike her to whine incessantly, Sanja decided it must be a show for Lyx. Maybe her goal was to drive him crazy. Instead, Tiara was driving
her
crazy.

She glanced at her purple demon. He flipped through his handheld device, periodically using his fingertip to write. At least that’s what it looked like he was doing. She’d seen him on it a great deal over the last week, and she wondered what he did while on it? Was she keeping him from work? It sure felt nice thinking she distracted him from his job. Made her feel special.

A slight tilt hit the corner of his mouth.

You’re living in la-la-land again
imagining you’re more important to them than their obligations
.

She didn’t have a clear sense of what either of them did in Baal, but she’d gathered enough to understand they were extremely powerful and important men. Wealth didn’t seem to be an issue either, and he’d explained only the elite lived in homes that floated. The higher they were, the more influential the occupants. She’d made out five floating homes, only one of them higher than Lyx and Troz’s abode. When she’d asked, he’d said that was their Queen’s residence, which, in her mind, marked her men as extremely significant.

That indicated their responsibilities would always come first. As they should.

That tilt to his lips vanished, and his jaw hardened. She wished Tiara would cease with her complaints already. If she was trying to irritate Lyx, by the immoveable line of his jaw, it was working.

It wasn’t like they’d confessed undying love to her. Love wasn’t even on the table.

Except from me.

Her emotions were raw and jumbled. Her heart grew softer toward them each day.

I’m losing it
.

Falling in love with her slave owners, who couldn’t return love, would end tragically.

Tragically for me anyway.

Talk about the worst evidence of Stockholm syndrome ever. Her case should be one for the history books.

Stupid and naïve, that’s what I am.

She’d even begun to think of herself as Sanja rather than Erica. That had to be a sign she’d caved to their wants.

“What am I supposed to do here all day? I’m bored to death staring at these same walls day in and day out. How are you passing the time, Eri—ahem, Sanja?”

“Fucking,” Lyx said deadpan without looking up from his gadget.

Sanja busted out laughing.

Tiara’s jaw dropped, and she drew in a sharp breath as if she would say something but snapped her mouth shut a moment later. Her friend settled on glaring at Lyx instead.

Angling his head to the side, his stare connected with Sanja’s. The slashes between his eyebrows indicated his scrutiny turned contemplative. For the life of her, she couldn’t glean what he might be thinking.

“He is so crass,” Tiara hissed in a loud whisper, as if Lyx couldn’t hear her. “How do you tolerate him? The other one broods nonstop, says nothing unless you count his screaming frowns of displeasure, and he is freakin’…scary!” The last word was said in a whisper so soft Sanja barely caught it. “They’re demons, they cannot possibly be so good in bed you overlook their flaws.”

Lyx set aside his tablet, his glower turning on Tiara. Before he could speak, Sanja quickly addressed Tiara’s concerns. “I drew them before I ever met them, Tiara.” She felt Lyx’s surprised stare, but she remained focused on Tiara. “I dreamed about them. All the time. I remember seeing Troz at my mother’s store once. Sybil must’ve made me forget it because I didn’t recall him until later when I had a dream here.” Even Tiara was stunned into silence, so Sanja kept talking. “I drew a great many things from this realm. That I’m here is fate. I could’ve walked away from your Ouija board. I didn’t. Instead of inviting the other side to talk with us, I invited them to join us. Slip of the tongue?” Sanja shook her head.
Sybil said there was no such thing as coincidence, just our fate designed for us
. “No. Lyx and Troz are my future. To admit that earlier frightened me, but….” She peered at Lyx. “I’m no longer scared to belong to them.”
Even if they’ll never love me.

Weighty silence descended upon the room. Neither Lyx nor Tiara moved. They just gaped at her. Lyx didn’t even blink.

She peered at her hands, surprised when she didn’t find paint under her nails or on her cuticles. She missed her art. Maybe sometime soon they’d allow her the privilege to draw again.

“My God,” Tiara finally said. “Were those the ones Sybil called your ‘prophetic drawings’?”

“Yeah. I showed you some of them.”

“You never shared the ones with
them
to me.” As if Tiara sensed Sanja’s unease, she leaned over and squeezed Sanja’s hand.

“No.” She bit the inside of her bottom lip and tossed a quick peek at Lyx. He continued to stare, unblinking. She wished she knew what thoughts plagued him. “They were too personal, Tiara. I didn’t want to share them or have to explain them.” There had been some really intimate pictures, as well. Not the type of thing she shared with anyone, not even her mother.

Tiara gave Sanja’s hand another reassuring squeeze. “I love you, Sanja. I trust you to know what’s best for you. If you were drawing them, then Sybil must know they’re part of your future.”

It was the only plausible reason her mother hadn’t tried to retrieve her from Baal.

“Even though they purchased you and forced themselves on you—”

“I could’ve fought harder. Sybil
did
teach me the spells to incapacitate males. You know, down there.” She nodded toward Tiara’s lap. “She said the spells would work on demons. I could’ve used them, I thought about it, but I didn’t because even though I was terrified, I wanted them.” Even knowing Troz planned to initiate her into anal sex that evening she’d still done nothing to stop them. Her half-hearted attempt to flee was just that. Half-hearted. She’d known before she tried to run that they’d neutralize her, stop her from escaping, but she’d felt obligated to pretend. “I recognized them as my future…my fate.”

It was all so clear now. So many dreams about them and their land, if only she could’ve seen clearly then that Baal and the guys were intended for her future, things would’ve been easier.

“For you, I’ll find a way to accept them.”

“Thank you.”

They hugged. When their embrace ended, Lyx stood beside them. Without a word, he offered his hand. As she placed her palm into his, she said to Tiara, “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

Tiara nodded. “Tomorrow,” her friend said as Lyx assisted Sanja to her feet.

They exited the room and Lyx guided her through the house to their bedroom. He was so quiet and solemn, she fretted. Had she upset him? Maybe she should’ve already confessed she’d drawn things from his land. The black pyramid she’d sighted in the distance the other day. Or the unicorn that shot daggers from its horn. The many dozens of pictures she’d sketched of this land. All because Baal had haunted her dreams almost nightly for longer than she could remember.

That occasion she’d seen Troz at her mother’s store, she’d called him ‘mine’ and her mother had paled. But why had Sybil made her forget? Had she been that obsessed over Troz? She and Sybil had even disagreed on his appearance, indicating he glamoured his appearance in Sybil’s presence, but Sanja had been able to see through the magic to the real man beneath.

When the bedroom door shut behind them, Lyx strode toward the bar, one command leaving his lips. “Undress.”

Unnerved by his silence, her hands shook as she pulled her shirt over her head. She folded the garment and placed it on the sofa. Her fingers felt numb as she released the button on her jeans. Sanja wanted to please her men, but she couldn’t do that if she had no idea why they were angry with her.

“I’m not angry with you,” he said, proving, like always he could read her thoughts. He watched as she pushed her jeans to the floor and stepped out of them.

“Good.” She folded her pants and settled the denim atop her shirt.

Gaze never leaving hers, he downed a glass of burning liquor. “Wait,” he said, halting her from unhooking her bra. He poured another shot of alcohol, drained it in a single gulp, and then snagged the entire bottle before striding to her. He set the decanter on the end table and halted in front of her.

If she took too big a breath, her breasts would touch his chest. That’s how close he was to her. “Is the liquor helping you?”

“Not really.”

No idea what to say to that, she nodded.

“You dreamed of us as I suspected.” His blank expression was unreadable, but she’d only ever seen him down spirits like this one other time and that’d been when he wanted her very badly. He’d used the drink to soothe his libido.

“Yes. For years I dreamed of you both.”

Holding her eyes, he reached around to her back and unhooked her bra. His head bent and he placed a kiss against a shoulder, as his fingertips glided along her flesh, sliding the straps down her arms until gravity took over and the undergarment hit the floor with a soft thud. The back of his knuckles grazed across her collarbone and spiraled downward to wisp along her rigid nipples.

A thumbnail spiked outward, and she gasped at the slight prick against her breast. “How often?”

She sounded breathy when she spoke, “How often did I dream of y’all?”

Lyx nodded, bringing his thumb to his lips. It was smeared in her blood. “Yes, how often did you dream of us?”

Dazed she ogled him as he licked her blood off his thumb. “Almost every night once I hit puberty.”

He dropped to his knees in front of her, cupped her breast and dragged his tongue along the globe, washing away the evidence he’d pricked her hard enough to draw blood. “Were they sometimes intimate dreams?”

Her nipple disappeared into his hot wet mouth. His tongue whipped around the achy nub. She dug her fingers into his hair to hold him in place. Never in a million years would she have guessed her breasts would be so sensitive. But what he did—

Lyx bit her nipple, and she gasped, the little jolt of shock a direct link to her pussy, creating spasms in the wet channel.

“Were they sometimes intimate dreams, Sanja?” Lyx’s persistence, along with the nip, jerked her from the hedonistic realm he could thrust her into with the slightest inducement.

“More times than not, yes.” She dragged his head to the other breast. “Don’t neglect it.”

He grinned and kissed the nipple. As she watched, he opened his mouth and swirled just the tip of his tongue around the peak. Gripping her hips, she felt his claws emerge, indenting her flesh without breaking the skin. “Did you orgasm from those dreams?”

“Sometimes, yes.”

He cut through the straps of her thongs with his talons and discarded them with a growl.

“You keep ripping my panties and I’ll be left with none to wear.” Like she owned another pair, but they always seemed to magically have clothes for her.

“I have no problems with that.”

“Neither do I,” Troz said.

Startled by his abrupt arrival, she jerked with a small yelp, but Lyx steadied her with his hands.

“How long have you been standing there?” Lyx raked his teeth over her nipple.

“Long enough to know you’ll recognize these.” Troz turned the framed pictures toward them. Sanja gasped at her pencil drawings. One she’d titled ‘Our First Child’ and the other ‘My Dream Lovers’. Lyx’s grip on her hips tightened, and she felt him tense against her.

“Where’d you get those?” They’d been hanging in her art room when Horace had taken her. No one stepped foot into that room except for her.

“Sybil.”

“You saw my mother?” At Troz’s single nod, her heart rate fluttered. “Is she okay?”

“Best I can tell.”

Lyx rose to his feet and moved to Troz. He retrieved one piece of artwork, studied it before leaning it against the back of the sofa, and taking the other one from Troz’s hold. “You drew these?”

Troz walked to her and held her gaze as he cut a digit and thumbed her bleeding nipple with the oozing wound.

“Yes,” she answered Lyx’s question, shivering at Troz’s healing touch.