Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

RELIC

Roman followed me around the side of the old building. It had been a boarding house back in the day, but it was condemned a long time ago. Now, it had boarded windows and heavy-duty padlocks on the doors. The place reeked of darkness, of fear and blood and chemicals I couldn’t name, which singed my fucking nose and prickled at my flesh.

I motioned to the door at the back. The lock was broken. Loth and Fender were going in from the front, so I eased the door open and searched the dark room. Our night vision was excellent; we didn’t need any other light to see inside. Rome screwed up his face. The scent was so much worse now. My boots crunched on broken glass scattered across the checkerboard linoleum, and I tilted my head, listening for sounds of life. Nothing.

If Faron had been here, he was gone now, but whoever had been holed up here had caused a lot of damage.

We walked deeper into the room as Loth strode toward us.

“You need to see this,” he said.

We followed him down a set of stairs and along a hallway. The carpet was damp and smelled of rot. The farther down the hall we went, the stronger the scent of fear became, overtaking everything else, along with the unmistakable stench of death.

Lothar opened the door to what had once been a utility room at the end of the hall, and Fender looked up from the stack of papers he was leafing through, shoved his red hair back, and shook his head with a scowl. Death, rot, terror—they saturated the room. There was blood streaked on the walls and pooled on the floor—dark, almost black. It’d been there for several days, and it wasn’t demon—or not just demon anyway. If it were, we’d be in a room full of ash. No, the owners of the blood in this room had been something else as well.

I walked to the large stainless steel bin against the wall. There was a laundry chute above it. It was covered in a bloodstained sheet. I tugged it off. “Fuck.”

“What the fuck is Faron up to?” Roman growled.

I took in the bodies—all female, all mutilated, and at odd angles. The body on top was unrecognizable; they all were.

“Is that ink?” I said to Rome.

“Yeah, and I’m pretty sure …” He dragged the fabric of the female’s shirt up a little, revealing more of her stomach. “It’s one of mine.”

“You know her?” Loth asked.

“She’s a witch.” He tilted his head to the side. “She came to me a while back after seeing some of my work.”

“They’re not just witches though.”

“Nah. The blood in here, I scent demon as well,” Lothar said. “None of them mated either.”

Loth had one of the best noses out of all of us. I was having trouble getting anything past all the chemicals in this fucking room. But when a female was mated, her male’s scent was branded on her—claiming her, warning off other males. If Loth said they weren’t mated, they weren’t mated.

“See if you can find any ID on them. When we know what the fuck is going on here, we can let their families know,” he said.

But not before. We didn’t need a bunch of witches and their covens getting involved in Lucifer’s business, not until we figured this out.

We searched the rest of the place. The scent of chemicals was stronger in several rooms, along with evidence of torture, but nothing else had been left behind. When we finally headed out, I grabbed a steel bar and used it to jam the door shut, and Fender did the same to the front. Then we got on our bikes and headed back to the clubhouse.

By the time we got there, it was the early hours of the morning. I’d forced myself to focus on the job all night, but my mind had repeatedly pulled me back here.

Had Fern been okay without me? She’d been terrified when I left. She’d also gotten turned on when I pinned her to the wall. Fuck. Leaving her had been one of the hardest things I’d ever done.

I crossed the main room, punched in the code by the door, rushed down the stairs, and along the tunnel. Unlocking my door as quietly as I could, I walked into my room. It was dark, apart from the light coming from the TV. She wasn’t on the couch or in my bed. I pushed open the bathroom door. She wasn’t in there either.

Fuck .

I scanned the room. She’d left. She’d fucking left.

I headed for the door. A whimper came from the couch, and I spun back. My jacket, still tossed over it, moved. Rounding the bed, I eased the heavy leather back, and my breath was punched from my lungs. Fern was curled up under it. So fucking small that I hadn’t seen her.

She was asleep. Her blood-red hair was all over her face, and I couldn’t resist brushing it back. Her eyes snapped open, and in a flash, her hand jerked up, the knife in it flashing in the light of the TV—

I grabbed her wrist before she could thrust it into my throat.

Her eyes widened.

“It’s me. You’re okay.” I gently uncurled her fingers from around the hilt and tossed the knife onto the floor. Then I scooped her up in my arms. “Go back to sleep, baby. I got you.”

She shuddered, then collapsed in my arms. Relief. She was feeling relief again. I fucking liked she felt that way while I held her.

Carrying her to my bed, I laid her down, tugged off her boots and socks, then pulled the covers over her. She rolled, dragging the covers up to her nose, breathing deeply before more of that relief made her features relax. Then, she was out cold again.

My scent—it was on my sheets. That was what had soothed her, and she’d been under my jacket for the same reason.

Possessiveness was a fist in my gut. She had been seeking the comfort of her mate and didn’t even fucking know she was doing it.

* * *

FERN

I felt warm, even my feet—and my feet were never warm—and so comfortable. Every muscle in my body was relaxed. I breathed deeply, and something smelled … yummy . Warmth built between my thighs, a nice ache that had me squirming. I ignored that. I didn’t want that. I had to admit it did feel kind of good though. It’d been so long since I had felt like that and wasn’t hit with nausea immediately afterward. I hadn’t felt nausea when Relic held me against the wall either—no, I didn’t want to think about that. Instead, I breathed in deep again.

“Mmm.” The sound left me on my next exhale.

The warmth surrounding me was deep in my bones, and I felt out of it, drowsy. I blinked, trying to wake myself up. It was still kind of dark, early morning maybe. I gave up.

The next time I woke, more light filled the room. I blinked again and stretched. My hand brushed something rough. That was when I became aware of the massive hand on my lower back and the boner digging into my stomach.

I jerked up. “What the fuck, Relic!”

He winced. “Fucking hell. Careful, Tink.”

“Why are you in my bed again?” I bit out.

“Not in your bed, babe. You’re in mine, and I told you, I’m not sleeping on any couch. I will also add—again—I didn’t put you up there; you climbed on me all on your own.”

He dragged a hand down his handsome face, and I realized he looked tired.

I hadn’t really believed him the first time he said I’d done it, but after last night—curling up under his jacket when I’d started to freak out because his scent somehow soothed me—I was starting to. The only explanation for it was that I owned his soul; that had to be the reason for this weird connection I felt growing toward him. I tried to slide off him, and he hissed.

I froze. “What?”

He reached down and covered his dick. “Watch the knee.”

“It’s not exactly polite to get a … to get … like that … when someone is forced to sleep beside you.”

“Polite had fuck all to do with any of this, little demon. Nothing between us has been polite.”

I tried to move, and his hand at my back gave some resistance, stopping me for a split second before he released me and let me slide off his body and to the other side of the bed. He was right, of course; basically stealing someone’s soul was far from polite, but then neither was stalking.

“Still, I’d prefer if you didn’t … do that when you’re with me,” I said. “I think we need to lay down a few ground rules.”

He huffed out a laugh. “My dick doesn’t follow your rules, Fern. I’m sorry if me getting hard while you lie on me offends you, but those curves pressed against me, your body all squirmy, while you made a bunch of sexy little sounds—it got to me. I’ve got no control over that, babe. You’re sexy as fuck and gorgeous, and you smell fucking amazing. My dick’s gonna get hard. And, yes, I’m more beast than man, but I’m not a fucking animal with no control. You’ve got no reason to be afraid of me … or it.”

He was right; his dick did scare me, like everything else fucking scared me. The way it made my body feel—the way he made me feel—scared me, and I was so sick of being fucking scared all the time.

“You look tired,” I said, desperate to change the subject. “Did I keep you awake?”

He shook his head. “Not you. Something else.”

I didn’t like the look in his eyes. “Did something happen last night while you were out?”

“It’s all good. Nothing for you to worry about.”

The hound was lying, of course. I could see something was bothering him—something other than me stealing his soul, that was. But I guessed what he did—as long as it didn’t affect my safety—was none of my business.

I shoved back the covers and got out. “I need to get to work.”

He yawned, stretched, then shoved back the covers as well and stood.

My gaze sliced down his body, and I froze.

He wore only a pair of boxer briefs, and the fucking baseball bat straining the front of them had my eyes widening.

“Holy fuck,” I said under my breath.

He turned to me, looked down at himself and his enormous hard-on, then back up. Of course he’d heard me. I expected a cocky smile, but he didn’t wink or make some boast about how big he was. No, he frowned before he kind of lifted his hands, as if he was afraid I’d bolt. And I couldn’t lie—I was seriously thinking about it.

For a being with limited emotions, he had worry written all over his face. Did he recognize his own emotions right then? Did he know that’s what he was feeling?

“It looks bigger than it, uh … is?”

“I don’t think that’s how that works,” I said, kind of pleased that it was him looking uncomfortable for once, though I didn’t really understand why he was being so weird. I kind of felt like I had to make him feel better about his massive dick, which was ridiculous. “No, I wasn’t pleased that I woke up with that monster in your pants digging into me, but seriously, don’t sweat it. Your dick is none of my business. I’m fine now, truly.”

His nostrils flared. “I’m glad to hear it.”

“Though, I will say, your dick is terrifyingly large.” Okay, maybe I was enjoying it a little too much, him being awkward instead of me.

He froze.

“Question: are you still a virgin?”

He still didn’t move; he just blinked at me several times. “No,” he said.

“I’m honestly surprised you’ve had any takers for that thing. If I saw it coming at me, I’d turn and run the other way. No offense.” I grabbed my boots and sat on the couch.

Relic tugged on his jeans with jerky movements. “None taken.”

I slipped on my boots and noted he looked kind of pissed off now. Shit . I’d been joking around—kind of—but I hadn’t wanted to hurt his feelings. I mean, after everything, he’d never been unkind to me. I didn’t have control over what he said, obviously; he could have been an asshole after what I had done to him, but he hadn’t been.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings—”

“I don’t have any, Fern,” he said.

But the way he’d said that I didn’t believe him. He felt something, in that moment at least, maybe not as much as other beings, but he did, and I’d definitely offended him. I didn’t like that.

“Relic, I …” I took a step toward him as he tugged a shirt over his head.

His gaze came to me, and he waited for me to finish.

Crap.

“You’re …” I motioned to him from head to toe. “All that you’ve got going on—the muscles, the hair, the face, the … abs, and that chest—it’s all, really good.” My face was on fire, but I pushed on. “You’re a good-looking male, the whole package.”

His brow arched.

“What I’m trying to say is, I’m sorry if I offended you. You can say I didn’t, but I can see that I did. You seem like a really good guy—for a hellhound. So, I just wanted to say that some female—with seriously special skills in the bedroom department—will be lucky to have you.”

There. I’d thrown the dog a bone, but as I’d said it, an awful feeling had fisted in my chest, then tugged—hard—like it had when he hugged Willow. The idea of another female with Relic, waking up in his bed with him like I just had, didn’t sit well with me at all for some reason. Again, I had to assume it was because I owned his soul. That had to cause a certain level of possessiveness, right?

Relic hadn’t said anything, and I glanced back up. He was a giant hellhound statue, all except for the muscle at the side of his jaw, which was pulsing, like he was grinding his teeth.

“I feel like I just made it worse somehow.” I bit my lip. “I was trying to be nice. I’m, uh … not very good at it.” Nice was another vulnerability that I avoided, and it was easy to avoid when you didn’t have any friends or family. “Did I make it worse?”

“You know what? I think it’s quiet time.” He jerked on his leather vest, shoved his feet into his boots, swiped his keys from the bedside table, grabbed his jacket, then took my hand and led me from the room.

The clubhouse was empty when we walked out, and I was more than a little relieved. One grumpy hound was enough for the morning, thank you very much. The parking lot was quiet as well, apart from whoever was working in the garage; the music was already on, and the roller doors were up, the shop open for business.

Relic turned to me, and without a word, he held up the jacket I’d fallen asleep under last night.

“Is that your way of telling me you want me to put it on?”

He narrowed his eyes.

“Fine. Whatever.”

I slipped my arms in, and he maneuvered me so I faced him again, then zipped it all the way up. He got on his bike, started it up, and motioned with a jerk of his chin for me to get on behind him.

Okay, looked like he was sticking with quiet time for now. I climbed up, and like always, he reached back and pulled my arms around him, as if he knew I found the intimacy of it difficult, so he made it easy for me by not giving me a choice. I huffed like I was annoyed by his heavy-handedness, like I did when he got into bed with me, because I didn’t know how to be close to someone in any way or in any situation. I felt awkward and out of my depth, but secretly, I craved it, and I was thankful that he made it easier on me. Gods, I was so fucked up.

We took off, and I had to admit, I was starting to enjoy our rides. I liked the wind, and the speed was kind of fun, and yeah, I liked how warm Relic was when he forced me to wrap my arms around him, and I was even warmer now in his jacket, which was like a freaking dress on me.

I was starting to love the feeling of freedom I had riding behind him. Even though I had no control over the destination or any of it, sitting back here, holding on to Relic while the wind whipped through my hair, it was like nothing else. I didn’t need to think; I could let it all go for a little while. I’d spent too many years of my life not feeling the sun on my skin or the wind on my face, and I couldn’t help but love every moment of it.

“I’ll never be free again, will I?”

I squeezed my eyes shut to stave off the memory that rushed forward out of nowhere, but it was no use. There was no stopping it.

“You will.” I brushed Harks’s sweaty hair back from his forehead. “You have to fight this.”

He’d told me his name after The Chemist threw him in here with me. He’d contracted the virus two days after he was forced to have sex with me, just like The Chemist had hoped. He was a good male, kind. He never wanted to hurt me, he was just trying to save his brother, but Grady had killed the younger male anyway. Now Hark was dying as well. It was only a matter of time. Somehow, I could hear his heartbeat, and it was growing weaker with every passing hour.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

“I-it’s not y-your fault.” A shiver racked through him, and I pulled my blanket around him tighter as he gasped in a desperate breath. “Y-you have to escape here. Promise me you’ll f-find a w-way.”

“I promise.”

I’d only known Harks for a week, but he was the closest thing I’d ever had to a friend, which was fucked up, considering how we’d met.

He struggled to draw his next breath; his mouth opened, panic filling his eyes—then he went limp in my arms—a moment later, he turned to ash.

I stared down in shock as tears slid down my face.

I didn’t know how long I sat there, unmoving, but the sun had gone down when The Chemist finally walked in.

He took in the scene. “The virus works,” he said triumphantly. “He had witch blood as well—did you know that? Just like you, yet he died, and you did not.” His head tilted to the side. “What are you, Estelle Burnside?”

He didn’t want an actual answer. I was a mystery, a puzzle he was desperate to uncover. No matter what he did, I didn’t die. And he wouldn’t be happy until I ended up like Harks.

Nothing left of me but ash.

The bike pulled to a stop. We’d reached Seventh while I’d been lost in the past. Relic kicked down the stand, and I quickly jumped off.

Relic swung off, his head tilting to the side when he looked at me. “You okay?”

How did he always know? But there was no way I was going to tell him what I’d just been thinking about, so I lied, “Yep.”

He stared at me for several more seconds, but thankfully, he didn’t push for more and let it go. He did close the space between us though, and instead of taking my hand, like he usually did, Relic’s fingers curled around the back of my neck. I jerked and spun on him, but he didn’t look at me, just kept walking, scanning the street, that firm grip on me moving me along at the speed he wanted. What he did not do was keep talking. A quiet Relic wasn’t natural.

“Relic?”

He looked down and did the brow-raising thing again.

I blew out a frustrated breath. “I’m sorry if I offended you, okay? Can quiet time be over now?” I hated it.

He stood to the side of the door so I could unlock it.

I threw up my hands when he still said nothing. “Why are you so pissed anyway? I thought you’d be proud or something. You have a big dick to swing around and show off. Aren’t you, like super stoked?”

I rolled my eyes when he still didn’t answer, and that muscle in his jaw jumped again.

“Don’t say I didn’t try, and that was your last apology.” I pushed the door open and stopped in my tracks. “No,” I choked out.

Relic’s arm was around me a moment later, pulling me back behind him as we entered my store.

Everything had been destroyed. Nothing was left intact.

“My apartment.” I pulled from his arms and took off up the stairs.

“Fern! Fucking stop,” Relic barked.

He bounded up the stairs after me, hooking me around the waist again and lifting me off my feet before I could get through the kicked-in door. But it was too late, I saw the destruction. All my things that I’d painstakingly collected, things that had given me joy after escaping a living hell—had been smashed to pieces. A gasp of agony left me, and Relic put me down, turning me to him.

“Don’t move. Stay right here.”

He strode into my apartment, quickly searched it, and then bounded down the stairs. I wrapped my arms around myself.

They’d made their move. They were coming for me.

Nothing could stop them, not even Relic, because, eventually, he would leave me. Eventually, he’d leave me unprotected, and they’d be there, waiting.

I collapsed to the floor as images flashed through my mind like a horror film and I was the main character, but it wasn’t a movie; it was my life.

One moment, I was sitting on the stairs, and the next, Relic was lifting me, gripping the back of my head and tucking my face against his shoulder.

“It’s okay. They’re gone. You’re safe.”

“I’m fine … I’m okay,” I lied, trying to convince myself as much as Relic, even while I shook uncontrollably against him, sucking in gasp after gasp.

“I got you, baby. Let it out,” he said as he rubbed my back.

But no tears came. I didn’t cry—I never cried. Crying did me no good. It had never done me any good.

“You need to tell me who the fuck did this, Fern,” he growled. “Because I’m going to hunt them down and make them scream.”

A shudder slid through me.

No, they’ll make you scream. They’re the ones who make you scream.