Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

24 Hours Earlier

Celeste stared at the floor as the broken glass ground into her palms. The beautiful vase of flowers that had been presented to her less than twelve hours prior as an apology gift lay smashed on the wood all around her.

“Why?” Anton yelled. “Why are you so unhappy? I have power. I have money. I’m excellent in bed. I give you everything, and it isn’t enough.”

Tears dripped from Celeste’s eyes, but she refused to let him see them, so she kept her head bowed and her hair encasing her face.

“Answer me!” The metal bat hit her shin, and she bit the inside of her cheek to keep from crying out.

Her head and face throbbed from the blows he’d rained down upon her earlier. They’d heal quick… too quick… leaving him wondering why, but that wasn’t something she could do anything about. Her mother had sold her off to the man as payment for gambling debts. She’d told him of Celeste’s particular gift but not why Celeste had it. And he hadn’t cared to ask. Anton had taken one glance at Celeste, and she hadn’t needed to read his mind to see what he wanted. The lust that wafted off him like a stinking donkey was there for anyone to witness.

And now she lay on his floor, not only the cause of his latest violent episode but the recipient as well.

Anton grabbed her by her hair and whipped her head back. “Usually, I like my women silent, but if you don’t answer me, you ungrateful little bitch, I’m going to cut your tongue out.”

Celeste couldn’t help the shakes that took over her body at his threat. She’d been with Anton for a week and a half and had seen things she never imagined. Beatings, murders, sex of every kind. The last had been particularly embarrassing as Anton forced her to witness one of the girls from his club kneel in front of him and show Celeste how he liked it.

Not that he would ever get that from Celeste. Not unless he wanted it bitten off. Even so, the display shocked her. She’d seen it in movies, but seeing it in person, and with someone she loathed, made her want to vomit.

Anton dropped the bat with a clang and pulled a gun from his waistband, pressing it to her temple. “Tell me, Celeste. What is so bad about everything I want to give you? Why will you not utter one word of gratitude? Tell me, or I will splatter what little is inside your skull all over this floor.”

Celeste couldn’t hold back the terrified tears any longer. Couldn’t hold back the snot running over her lips. Couldn’t hold back the violent shaking of her body at his threat. She could only control the one thing he wanted more than anything. Her words. Not that she would have been able to speak if she’d wanted to. She was sure her jaw was at least cracked.

“I’m gonna give you until the count of two. One… Two?—”

A huge bang sounded on the door, and Celeste jumped at the sound.

Anton turned his head. “I’m busy!” he yelled before looking at her once more. “Where were we?”

“Boss!” came a muffled voice. “There’s a problem.”

Anton’s eyes didn’t leave hers. “Handle it. It’s what I pay you for!”

There was another bang. “Boss, a guy’s been stabbed! Twice.”

Anton stared at her for a moment and then shoved the gun back into his waistband. He threw her to the floor once more, and Celeste stiffened, waiting for his parting blow, but it didn’t come. Instead, he stomped to the door and yanked it open.

Panicked voices and shouting floated up the stairs. The music stopped, and women screamed below. “Shit.” Anton walked out the door but turned and pointed to her. “Put her in the closet. She doesn’t come out until I get her, understand?”

The bodyguard nodded, and Anton took off down the stairs, yelling obscenities the entire way.

Celeste allowed herself to take a shaky breath but winced as her ribs screamed at her.

The guard closed the door and surveyed the room. She read his thoughts.

Broken chair. Broken table. Broken Vase. Broken Celeste.

His eyes landed on her. She didn’t move. For a moment, pity flickered through his gaze before his eyes hardened again. He walked to her, kicking various pieces of debris out of his way. He offered her his hand, but when she reached for it, her side shot with pain, and she winced.

Instead, the man scooped her into his arms. He stopped for a moment and glanced from her to the door and back again.

The words that flowed from him struck her to the core. “I’m sorry, little sister,” he said in demonic.

Celeste swallowed hard. He was a demon? A chill ran through her, and he sensed it in her, too. Why? Why was he working for a man like Anton Burcheron?

“Help me,” she begged telepathically.

“I can’t. I’m sorry. Like you… I owe a debt.” His demon voice pitched lower and huskier than the normal tone he adopted to fit in with the humans.

He carried her to the other side of the room and stopped outside a set of double doors. He glared down at her again before blowing out a deep breath, opening one of the doors, and walking into Anton’s special closet.

“But I don’t. This isn’t my debt.”

The closet that had been her home for the past twelve days, ever since the first meeting where Anton had wanted her to use her powers, and she’d refused.

The closet held every single sexual instrument Anton possessed. The closet she was more than sure she would die in.

The guard laid her on the makeshift bed she’d made from a couple of red heart-shaped pillows and a blanket. She faced the wall as the man backed away from her. She sucked in a shuddered breath and stared at the wall.

“What’s your name? Your real name.”

He remained silent for a moment. “Amezodile.”

“I appreciate your gentleness, Amezodile. But you will die like the rest. I vow it.”

He stared at her for a moment, pity lacing the hard lines of his face. He closed the closet door, bathing her in darkness. She lay breathing for more than a minute as pain radiated through her body. Pain she’d never experienced before. Pain that went beyond pain.

She tried to roll over, but lightning shot through her hip and up through her chest. Cracked ribs. She sucked in shallow breaths. She moved to touch her ribs, but her arm screamed at her, hot and swollen. She parted her lips, whimpering at the pain in her face, and licked over her lip to the blood caked in the corner. The cut from Anton’s ring split her lips open at least half an inch in the corner.

Her gut clenched, and she stopped trying to see how bad her injuries were. Instead, she closed her eyes and focused on the one thought she’d clung to since arriving. Her dad would save her.

For five days, she’d reached out with her mind to try to find the one person she thought could help her; and for five days, she’d not been able to sense him. She had no idea where her father was. She didn’t even know what her father did for business outside of being away for long periods. But she knew one thing for sure. Whenever she’d called her father on the phone, he’d always answered on the first ring. When she emailed or texted him, he responded within minutes. But with her powers, it had always been different. Sometimes, she’d been able to reach him, and sometimes not. This was one of those ‘not’ times.

She’d never asked her father why there were times she couldn’t reach him. She’d only assumed he was too far away and hoped it was somewhere beautiful. Somewhere beautiful. Somewhere that one day he would take her. Just her. Far from her mother. Far from the bruises and broken bones. Far from her misery.

Celeste scooted sideways and laid her head on one of the fuzzy pillows. She’d waited. Five days she’d waited for him to find her. And for five days, she’d never once found him through their bond. Pain coursed through her body, and she let out a sob.

She’d never once disobeyed her father. Not when it came to their special powers. He’d told her never to use her full power. Not unless it was the direst of emergencies. Using her full power might alert others like them of her presence. So, up to that point, she’d only used a fraction of her power. The one he’d trained her to use to connect with others. But also to find him if she ever needed him.

But he hadn’t answered. Five days and he hadn’t answered. And now… she had no choice.

She didn’t want to disobey him. She didn’t. But she couldn’t go on. Two weeks was all she’d been able to take as a slave to a masochist. She’d always thought she’d be stronger. That she could do anything. She was the product of an angel and a demon, after all. And her life with her mother hadn’t been easy. She’d abused Celeste on occasion. But nothing compared to the breaks upon breaks upon breaks Anton had rained down on her.

But no. A week and a half; that’s how long it had taken for him to break her. Not completely, but she would rather be dead than break completely and give him what he wanted. Even if it meant dying at the hands of another demon or her father.

Celeste took a breath and dropped her mind shield, not a little bit like usual, but dropped it. The barrier in her mind crashed down like a toddler kicking over a tower of blocks.

Voices bombarded her. Emotions and voices invaded her mind like a suffocating blanket, pressing her toward panic and hysteria.

She heard it all. Men, women, children. Happy. Sad. The good, the bad, and the worse. Thoughts of men down in the strip club. Women panicked and running for safety. And even further out. Down the block. Across the city. So many voices.

Her heart raced, and she gasped for breath despite the pain. She couldn’t handle it. Just as the voices threatened to overwhelm her into madness, she cried out.

“Papa, I need you,” she screamed into the void. She let her pain drip through the mental connection, praying he would feel it, hear it.

A moment passed, and a number of voices halted. Her body trembled. They saw her. And she saw them as well. Demons.

A wave of fear washed over her, and then it paused.

“Celeste?”

“Papa.” An audible cry escaped her, and tears leaked from her eyes.

“I am coming.”