Chapter 7

Iyla

SPEECHLESS DIDN’T DO WHAT I was feeling justice. My brain and all its sense of reality had basically been shoved into a meat grinder and shredded to bits.

Demons.

They were very much real.

And I was now stuck with one.

For life .

I was sure when I woke up this morning that Nahla would tell me it was all a bad dream. We never went to the concert. Never hung out with Sinners Do It Better. All of it was some weird fantasy I’d built up in my head. I mean, when I woke up that morning, there was no weird black ink around my throat like the night before.

But when Nahla stumbled out of my bedroom where I’d dumped both of us after booking it out of the party, I knew it had all been very real. I guessed that meant the black ring on my throat turned invisible. Thank God. I didn’t know how I would’ve explained that to anyone.

“Please tell me there’s coffee,” Nahla groaned, rubbing her hand over her face.

Forcing a smile, I pointed to the kitchen over my shoulder. “In the pot. I already have some ibuprofen next to it for you, too.”

“Ugh. You’re a saint.” She kissed the top of my head on her way by the couch where I sat and eagerly poured the hot brew into a mug while popping the pills. “Last night was easily the greatest night of my life.”

My cheeks warmed, and I tried to hide the flaming of them behind a hearty sip of my own coffee. Last night was a rollercoaster of emotions. I had a lot of fun dancing once I’d warmed up to letting a little loose, and when Zagan ate me out … that was like heaven . But what happened right after was a shit show of the greatest magnitude.

I let a demon screw me.

And that shit hurt .

I stood behind my initial opinion—sex wasn’t any good.

Nahla plopped down beside me on the couch. She propped her elbow on the back and leaned her head against her palm while she sipped her coffee. I fought a chuckle at the crazy state of her post-party hair.

“I love what you’re doing with your hair,” I teased. “Absolutely gorgeous. Are you going for a just-struck-by-lighting look or a birds-welcome-to-this-nest look?”

“Shut up,” she grumbled with a laugh, shoving me in the shoulder. “My scalp is sensitive right now from Dante pulling on it. But damn, it was worth it. That man gave me more orgasms than I have shoes.” Her eyes took on a dreamy look. “I’ve never had such wild, amazing sex. And that’s saying something.”

I shook my head, but there was no hiding the smile in my voice. “I’m glad you finally scored your celebrity crush.”

“What about you?” She nudged me. “What did you do all night while the rest of us were busy?” She paused, and her eyes took on a conspiratorial gleam. “Now that I think about it, Zagan was missing from the group festivities, too. Were you two hanging out?”

I chewed on my lip, trying to gather my words. My hesitation was all she needed as confirmation.

Her eyes widened, and she sat her coffee aside before practically climbing on top of me. “Oh, hell yes. Spill ! You better tell me everything? Did you fool around? Did you finally have sex?”

I should’ve known she’d have questions and thought about my answers in advance. Under normal circumstances, I would’ve immediately poured my secrets out for Nahla to listen to and dissect. But what happened with Zagan was not normal. The experience of losing my virginity was a mess with details I wasn’t sure how to divulge without sounding certifiable. So I decided to give her part of the story.

“We may have kissed,” I said slowly. I grabbed a strand of my dark hair and twirled it around my finger. “And he might’ve, you know … gone down on me.”

“Oh my God!” Nahla squealed, bouncing on her knees. “How was it? Did you love it? My baby had her first orgasm!” Her features suddenly turned serious, and she grabbed my shoulders. “You did orgasm. Right?”

Heat swept up my face and burned my ears. I placed my hands on top of Nahla’s and huffed a small laugh. “Yes, Nahla. I orgasmed.”

Her excitement reappeared in full force, and she shook me in her celebration. “So it was good? Zagan was as deliciously talented as the rumors say?”

I wanted to roll my eyes, because while what he’d done with his tongue had most definitely been wonderful, the sex was awful . But I couldn’t say that.

“Yeah,” I answered. “He was very good at it.”

We continued reminiscing about last night and nursing the rest of the coffee before Nahla had to head out. She was meeting her parents for brunch, and even though the Bayraks offered for me to join them, I declined. I was still pretty wiped out from the night before and needed some alone time to process it all.

As soon as I shut the door behind Nahla, I slumped against it. All of my insides were wound tight with apprehension. I’d finally lived a little, let myself step just a hair outside of the box I’d always stayed in. And what did that get me?

A freaking demon .

But also a chance to save my sister. That alone kept me from regretting what I did.

I pushed away from the door and gathered Nahla’s empty mug to put in the dishwasher. The quiet sounds of me tidying about the kitchen were all that filled the vast room, and the near quiet was starting to drive me a little crazy. It gave my mind room to wander, and that meant acknowledging the heavy weight of dread.

It felt like at any moment, my mom was going to burst through my front door, screaming that she’d caught me. She’d somehow known I’d gone out and, worse, had premarital sex. I’d lose what little freedom I had. She’d take away my food, leaving only bread and water. Or she’d have the water to my apartment cut off so I’d have to stay as dirty and filthy as she thought I was for opening my legs for a man.

“Get out of your head,” I mumbled to myself.

I finished wiping down the non-existent dirt on the kitchen counters and looked at my closed laptop on the counter. My fingers itched to get on YouTube and play one—just one —song. Like Saint-Sa?ns, “The Carnival of the Animals” or Debussy’s, “Suite Bergamasque.”

It was moments like this when I was alone with nothing but silence and my spiraling thoughts that the armor I’d built up against my desires really fractured. Temptation called louder, and I had to squeeze the edge of the counter to keep my feet from carrying me to the laptop.

To music.

I’d always had a love for music. One could say I was bred for it. My dad was a music teacher, and he’d taught me everything I knew about piano. He’d always encouraged me in my pursuit of becoming a professional pianist. When he died, my dream and freedom went with him. I was left with a grieving heart and a mother who despised my love for all things music and piano.

She sold my piano and used the money to get Gemma swim lessons. She burned my music sheets and had me kneel in front of the fireplace to watch. She took all of mine and Dad’s records—Beethoven, Chopin, Liszt, all of the great classical composers—and made me snap each and every one in half while she towered over me with crossed arms and sharp eyes.

There was no room for music in my life, she’d said.

I never touched a piano after that. I hadn’t listened to music, either.

Sure, I’d heard music out and about or when I was around Nahla. But I never truly listened. Even when I was alone and could sneak a listen to a few pieces, I held firm in my resistance, the loud crack of the records snapping in half and the crackling of fire eating away at paper filling my head and keeping me from daring.

I took a deep breath and bent over to press my head onto the marble of the island top. I let the cold seep into my skin, hoping it would numb the dull ache of longing that had sprouted inside me.

“Fuck. I like this view.”

I gasped and whipped around to find Zagan standing in my living room, smirking as his eyes remained where I’d just been bent over the island. He didn’t look like he did the last time I saw him. His true form was hidden once more, masked by his blue eyes, normal looking teeth, and human features. He sported a form fitting black t-shirt and black pants, all of which made my mouth water against my will. Even knowing what I knew, he was still the picture of everything I secretly wanted.

“What are you doing here?” I demanded in a startled breath. “How did you get in here?”

“Demon, remember?” he deadpanned. “I can find you through our connection and poof .” He made an explosion gesture with his hands. “I’m there.”

I stared at him, dumfounded. “What if I wasn’t alone? What if people were here? Do you not care about exposing yourself?”

“I hid in the shadows to make sure you were alone before appearing. If someone was here, they wouldn’t have seen anything but normal shadows until I stepped out of them.” His gaze left me and slowly took in the kitchen and living room. “Speaking of here … Is this your place?”

I inched into the living room but kept a good distance away from him. I didn’t really know him, but he was a demon, for crying out loud. Who knew how dangerous he was.

“Yes,” I finally answered as I put the couch between us. “Now, can you leave? I’m not allowed to have guys here.”

That got his attention. He met my eyes with a puzzled frown. “You’re an adult. What do you mean you can’t have guys here?”

A rush of embarrassment flooded me like hot magma. I looked away from him and tucked some hair behind my ear. “You don’t understand. My mom pays for this apartment. So even though I live here, it’s technically hers. Her apartment, her rules.”

He scoffed and went back to snooping around the living room. “Sounds controlling to me, but whatever.” He approached the bare wall and ran his tattooed hand along it as he walked around the living room and started down the hall. Even though he was mumbling to himself, I still heard him say, “Is this your place or the fucking model unit the building uses for showings?”

“It’s mine!” I yelled, even though he didn’t actually ask me the question. “Can you—Hey!”

I started after him as he unabashedly swept into my bedroom. When I rounded the corner, he was already sitting on the edge of my unmade bed—thank you, Nahla—leaned back on his hands and looking around.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I fumed.

“I’m no interior designer or anything, but your place feels cold.” He waved his hand around my mostly bare room. “Where’s all your photos of you and your girlfriends or your pile of messy clothes? Where’s the life in your room? Or are you just that boring?”

Another wave of self-consciousness hit me. It was true my place didn’t really feel … lived in. But that was how my mom liked things. No clutter. Neutral color palette. No distractions from my schooling.

“This doesn’t feel like the room of a college girl,” Zagan added on with another glance around the room.

Meeting my breaking point with this judgmental asshat, I snapped, “Yeah well, not everyone can do as they please. Would I love a purple comforter or shelves lined with nothing but romance books or a whole freaking record player to play as loud as I want to? Abso-freaking-lutely, but that’s just not a reality for me. It has nothing to do with me being boring or whatever else you might think about me. You don’t know my situation, so why don’t you keep your opinions to yourself?”

Instead of trying to placate me or get snappy right back over my sudden outburst, Zagan grinned and cocked his head. “Not an opinion, Sparrow. I was merely making an observation. Stating a fact. I see we don’t like being confronted with truths, though. Noted.”

“I’m sorry. Aren’t you the one living a literal lie?” I fired back while crossing my arms. “A demon posing as a human?”

“We weren’t talking about me.”

That smirk was still on his stupid face. Seeing it made my blood boil and made me want to feel those lips on me again, all at once.

Which only pissed me off more.

“Forget it,” I huffed. I ran a hand through my long hair and leaned against my door frame. I was still nervous about getting too close to him. “What did you come here for?”

He flashed me a look like I should’ve known why he was here. “Our deal. I’m hungry. In case you’ve forgotten, I never got to eat last night after days of already abstaining from sex. I need fuel.”

He was here to finish what we’d barely even started. The reminder of the previous evening sent a flush up my cheeks. I cleared my throat and glanced away from him. I wasn’t ready to repeat that horrible experience.

“Not until you do your part,” I said.

He sighed. “I figured you’d say that. That’s why I’m also here to do just that. Let’s go see your sister so I can give her some blood.”

The change in subject to Gemma and the idea of potentially saving her life put some civility back into my voice. “You said she needs to drink a little at a time, right?”

He nodded, and the muscles in his torso pulled at his shirt as he shifted on the bed. It took a lot more willpower than I cared to admit to focus on his words as he explained, “We can mix a couple drops into a drink of hers or something. Giving her that every week should do something. Hopefully.”

I swallowed hard. There was a risk this wasn’t going to work. There was a risk that it might make her sicker. But my heart had heard there was a chance of healing her, of saving her, and it had latched onto that bit of hope like a leech. I couldn’t sit back and watch my sister suffer anymore. If I could do something to help her, I had to try.

“Okay,” I said. “Let’s—”

My phone started going off. I dug it out of my jeans, and my heart fell through me like a cinder block in water when I saw the name on the screen.

“Frick,” I hissed. I glanced warily at Zagan, who stared at the phone in my hands with far too much curiosity. I ignored his interest and returned to the living room. My heart raced as I answered and tried to keep the dread out of my voice. “Hi, Mom.”

“What are you doing?” she asked, her tone all business.

Shit. Did she know? Did she know I’d gone out last night? Did she know there was a guy inside my house at this very moment?

“Just finished cleaning up the kitchen,” I answered calmly.

I leaned my back against the counter, and when I looked up at the living room, my eyes widened. Zagan had moved back out here, and he was now rummaging around inside my backpack, which had been propped by the couch.

“What are your plans for today?” she questioned.

I waved a hand at Zagan to get his attention. When he looked up at me, I motioned for him to get back. He ignored me with a roll of his eyes, going back to his search of my textbooks. He pulled out my Urban Policy and Economic Development book. With the look that crossed his face as he flipped through it, you’d think he’d just stumbled upon some foul smelling garbage or something.

That was secretly how I felt when reading that one, too.

“Iyla?”

The impatient snap of my name had me refocusing on Mom. “Sorry. I-I thought I saw a spider.” I paused, mentally slapping myself at the stupid lie.

“Great save,” Zagan whispered from the living room. He tossed the textbook onto the couch. He must’ve decided he was bored with my school material.

“Anyway,” I said to Mom, watching Zagan zero in on me with his vivid blue eyes. Too late, I realized that his boredom of looking through my shit meant there was only one thing left for him to mess with.

The light in his eyes turned … smoky as he appraised me where I leaned against the island. I felt the heat in his gaze all the way to my core, and somehow, it froze me in place. All I could do was stand there as the demon stalked toward me while I continued talking.

“I’m planning on getting ahead on some assignments today. Study some more. Like you always say, you can’t ever be too prepared.”

Zagan was on me then, putting his hands on the counter on either side of me, caging me in with his body. His eyes traced my face, falling to my lips.

“Good,” Mom said. “I’m meeting with a client now, so I probably won’t be paying much attention to my phone in case you try to get in touch with me.”

“Okay. Thanks for letting me know.”

My eyes were locked on Zagan’s, and even when the call ended, I remained immobile, holding the silent phone to my ear. I was like a deer staring down the barrel of a hunter’s gun. I knew I needed to move, flee, escape, because danger was right there, directed right at me. But I couldn’t move. He’d ensnared me with the closeness of his broad frame and the hungry gleam in his eye.

“I want to taste you again,” he whispered, leaning in close. “I want to bend you over this counter and fuck you so hard, you can’t even walk straight.”

My words lodged in my throat. I squeezed my thighs together, because that voice uttering such filthy words did something to me. But his wanting to have sex was also a reminder that we had something to do before he got what he wanted.

Swallowing hard, I placed a hand on his chest and gently pushed him back to give myself space to breathe. “After we go see Gemma.”

The lines around his mouth tightened in annoyance. That was my only warning before I heard the metallic drag of a knife come from my right. A knife flew toward me, and I ducked with a gasp just as it reached where my head had been. Quick, erratic pants left my lips. I bunched Zagan’s shirt in my hands where they still rested against his chest. My frantic eyes bounced from the knife now embedded in my wall to Zagan.

“Damn,” Zagan grumbled as he stared at the blade. “If you’d been just a bit slower, I could’ve been done with this.”

I shoved at his chest as fear and anger warred like a storm cloud inside me, but the demon didn’t even flinch at my furious shoves. “What the hell? I-I thought we had a deal.”

He met my gaze again. “We do. Doesn’t mean I won’t take a chance when I see an opportunity. Don’t forget what I am, human .”

My heart continued to pound, and my knees wobbled with the lingering effects of terror. He was right. I couldn’t forget what he’d shared. While his death would result in both of ours, my death would result in his ticket to freedom. That knife had been too close, and while it hadn’t done the job Zagan had intended, it succeeded in being a reminder.

We may have had a deal to save my sister, but I was far from safe with this demon.