Chapter Twenty
Lenora
We’re back at Usher House.
It somehow happened between a blink. One second, I’m on Marcus’s lap, arguing about my choices and the next, we’re at his desk, on his office. I’m still in his lap, but…
Marcus meets my gaze and I know he’s as frightened as I am as the doorbell sounds a second time.
Loud.
Persistent.
“Marcus?”
His heart hammers against my shoulder, a frantic patter that mirrors my own.
“I … I don’t know.”
The relentless buzzer sounds a third time.
Neither Marcus, nor I move. I don’t think we can. A large part of my brain can’t even be sure this is real. Or was us, in the car, parked on the highway not real?
Bang. Bang. Bang.
Whoever’s outside is determined to get in.
Marcus rises slowly, coming out of his shock faster. I’m nudged gently to my unsteady feet. He captures my fingers. Tight.
“Don’t let go.”
I have no plans to. I’m not sure I’m prepared to handle whatever’s happening on my own.
We cross the house at a much too slow pace, but neither of us is anxious to see the person rapping their knuckles against the wood.
Shadows yawn and expand across the familiar marble extending the length of the foyer. Dull fingers of late afternoon sun ooze through windows unwashed. It creates square patches beneath our feet as we arrive at the door.
We both pause at the sight of the twin silhouettes stamped through the stained glass surrounding the heavy oak.
It can’t be the demon. He has no reason to knock, but I watch Marcus reach the brass knob with one hand and nudge me behind him with the other. The latch gives and we face the intruders.
Two police officers in navy uniforms and solemn expressions peer at us from the other side. I believe they’re familiar but my head refuses to think straight.
Marcus recognizes them. His fingers don’t loosen, but he glances from one to the other with a blank expression.
“Charlie. Reuben. To what do we owe the pleasure?”
Marcus knows everyone in the department. Most of them work for him. The other half would eventually.
“Official business I’m afraid, sir.” The one with the handlebar mustache glances at the thinner, darker skinned man. “Etienne Duval unexpectedly died last night. Tragically in his bed.”
My stomach blooms with delight. With sickening pride. But I will it back, bottle it down. I keep my expression blank. Empty.
Charlie meets my gaze for longer than I like. His dark eyes are assessing. Cop eyes, Ames would call it. They drop to my fingers tangled with Marcus’s.
“He knows,” the demon whispers along the cavity of my skull. “They’re going to pin it on your uncle if you don’t finish what you started. They’ll throw him in a deep, dark hole where Duval will send someone to kill him.”
My heart thumps in my chest, a frantic patter I’m sure can be heard for miles.
“We’re asking everyone who has had dealings with Mr. Duval.”
The implication hangs.
I don’t miss it and I know Marcus doesn’t either.
“You think I killed him?”
“We have to ask,” Reuben mumbles. “The feud between the families isn’t a secret, especially—”
Charlie nudges him hard in the ribs, but I hear it as clear as if he’d said it.
“Especially since the Duvals are responsible for the deaths of your sons.”
“I am very aware of my standing with the Duvals. I was at home all evening.”
“With me,” I blurt.
“Do you think they can smell the cum between your legs and know what a filthy girl you are?”
I ignore the taunt and keep my focus fixed on Reuben. He’s the only one between them who seems unconvinced but is smart enough not to accuse Marcus Usher of murder.
“We’re not accusing anyone,” Charlie pipes in quickly. “The manner with which Mr. Duval passed is still being investigated.”
Marcus nods once like he understands before saying quietly, “Best of luck in your investigation.”
“Aren’t you going to ask?” Reuben takes a step forward when Marcus starts to close the door in their faces. “You didn’t even ask how he died.”
There is only impatience in the downward tilt of Marcus’s mouth, the hard set in his eyes as he peers at the other man.
“Because I don’t care. You said yourself, there is no love lost between our families.
His murdered my sons in cold blood not a week ago.
Do I care how the man died? No. Do I wish to know how he died?
No. He’s dead. It’s not even unfortunate.
It’s simply a fact that I will forget before I finish my morning coffee. Now, if you will excuse us.”
He shuts the door before further questions are asked. The officers linger on the steps a second longer before their silhouettes drift off the steps. All the while, Marcus watches me with impatience.
“That is why discretion is necessary.”
“I don’t want discretion,” I retort. “I want everyone in the city to know and speculate. They will never know it’s us, unlike your method which will leave no doubt and too many probabilities.”
“It’s sloppy,” he says. “It’s risky and dangerous.”
“So is your way,” I remind him. “If you hire someone, you will have to take care of that person in case they get caught. You know they will give up your name in a heartbeat. You’d have to hire someone to kill him, and someone to kill that guy and so on and so forth.
You could do the job yourself, but eventually you may be seen, or some evidence will bring them straight to you.
” I take a breath and reach for his hand. “My way … they will never suspect us.”
“They do suspect us,” he points out, gesturing to the door. “That’s why they came. They know we are the only ones with the means and motive to go after that family.”
I shrug. “But they will never pin it on us. They can search all they want.” I can see it in his face, see the doubt and curiosity. He wants to ask but also doesn’t want to encourage. “Do you want me to tell you?
“No.” He turns his head away. “I want no part of this. You’re playing with things you don’t understand and I’m not going to watch you get yourself killed.”
“Convince him, Lenora. If he tries to leave again, I won’t just bring him back. I’ll remove him entirely.”
The threat lingers between my ears, a hollow echoing that sends a chill down my spine. It bunches my fingers into my palm of the hand not still clasped in his.
I want to warn the demon not to touch him.
I want to remind him I’m in charge. I’m the one who summoned him. I’m the one making the call.
But I don’t think he can hear me without actually speaking and I can’t risk Marcus knowing I can still hear the demon when he’s so upset. The only way to solve this is to calm Marcus down and make sure he stays. Once that is done, I’ll deal with the creature.
I face Marcus. “Will you please trust me?”
“I do trust you, Linny. I trust you with my life.” His features soften and he faces me.
His warm hands cradle my cheeks, and I lean into the solid contact.
“I would commit unimaginable crimes for you. I love you.” He breaks off like he hadn’t meant to say that out loud, but he sucks in a breath, lets it out in a rush.
“I love you, Lenora. I have for far longer than I ever should have, but I would burn the world for you.”
I kiss him.
I meet that firm weight of his mouth with the softness of mine. I taste the pain and fears lining his tongue. When his arm hooks around my waist, I circle mine around his neck and line my front to his.
“Then help me do this,” I breathe in between every hurried sip. “Please. I want you with me.”
The door slams against my back. I barely feel the ornate carvings when I’m lifted. My skirt is bunched around my naked hips. The cool air brushes my exposed sex as my legs hook around his hips. I wait impatiently while he fights with the fastens of his trousers.
“I would do anything for you,” he growls, freeing his cock from its confines.
Nothing else matters.
Not the police still parked in the driveway.
Not the reality of how we found our way back from the highway. We don’t even ask if the car came with us. There is no conversation when I lift my hips and align him. All I can think is how badly I need him inside me. How frantic it all is in my heart.
Somewhere deep at the back of my mind, I think how much simpler this is. How right not to think or feel anything, except the feel of him filling me inch by inch.
Our groans vibrate between us. They wash through the sliver of space between our lips.
“Then stay with me.” I roll my hips, grinding over him. “Do this with me. Please, Marcus. I need you.”
He meets every desperate wiggle with a steady drive of his shaft plunging deeper, harder. The solid wood rattles behind me in rhythmic cracks. My body sings with each thrust I meet with eager drives.
“Mon p’tit, s’il te pla?t.”
His desperate plea trickles down my throat as sweet as honey.
And I kiss him harder.
I pour every ounce of my need for him into it, trying to convey all the things I’m too scared to confess.
“I can’t do it alone,” I whisper when the hot surge of his release burns my walls and his pained groan slides across my tongue. “Stay with me, please.”
Breathing hard, Marcus lifts his head and his gaze meets mine. His cock is semi hard, a wedge still lodged inside me, containing the mess he left behind.
“I will do anything for you, mon c?ur. Even this if that’s what you want. But you will follow me. You won’t do anything without talking to me first. Agreed?”
I can feel the demon writhing and twisting in the shadows. A snake coiling to strike.
Still, I shake my head. “I can’t do that. I will discuss my decisions with you, but I’m the one who needs to see this through my way.”
Marcus expels a plume of frustration I feel wash across my cheeks.
“This isn’t a game.” He sets me down gingerly and stuffs himself back inside his slacks. “I’m not trying to steal your glory, Linny. You’re not thinking straight. You can’t even see that this thing you’ve summoned is a dangerous entity that won’t let you leave. The boys wouldn’t want this.”
The truth of those words spear through my chest. It twists around my lungs, stealing my air. The pain of it draws tears to my eyes and blurs his features.
“They wouldn’t want to be dead either,” I bite out through my teeth.
“They wouldn’t want to be rotting in wooden boxes, but they are and I know they would burn this city to the ground if it were me lying in the chapel.
They wouldn’t stop until the people responsible no longer existed. I don’t know why you’re fighting me—”
“I’m not fighting you, Lenora. I want this as much as you do, but trusting a demon—”
“Who says I trust him? I know what he is, but he can—”
“At what cost?” he growls. “What is he getting in return? Demons aren’t known for their kindness or generosity. They are monsters. Abominations cast out of Heaven to defile humanity. He is not helping you out of the goodness of his heart.”
I draw in a slow breath. “He already got it.”
Marcus isn’t a stupid man. He would have already noticed my lack of hymen. I expect his anger over not being the one to take it — although, in a strange way, he was — but he only shakes his head.
“He’s lying to you. As perfect as your pussy is, there’s more to this.”
“That’s fine. He can have it. There isn’t anything I want—”
“What about me?” He arches an eyebrow in a challenge. “Will you give me to him? If the only way he will finish your request is my life, would you slit my throat? How far are you willing to go, Lenora?”
I don’t answer.
Not because I don’t know the answer. I do and it’s a resounding no. I would never let anything hurt him. But I don’t know how to explain my arrangement with the demon.
“I would never hurt you,” I tell him at last. “Or let you get hurt. You’re all I have left and I love you.”
I watch his features soften. The anger in his eyes simmers to a gentle boil, but he no longer looks like he wants to kill me.
“Then let me protect you.” His hands frame my face and I’m pulled to him. “If you need this, I will accept it. I will stand by you, but only if you promise me that you won’t lie or keep anything from me.”
It’s a simple request.
The kind I should be able to make without thought, but I know it can never be that simple.
“I promise,” telling myself I mean it.