Chapter 9
CHAPTER NINE
NOVA
Ican still taste him as I sprint away; still catch the smell of sex in the air. I want to scrub every memory from my brain with a healthy lather of soap, but more than that I want to hate what happened.
But I don’t.
My body still thrums with the aftershocks of pleasure. How many times did they make me come? Four? And it wasn’t even remotely difficult for them. They played me like an instrument in their hands until stars sparked across my vision and heading down to hell with them didn’t seem so bad.
It is bad.
The pleasure is a con, a manipulation. No matter how much they claim they’ll be serving me and not the other way around, it won’t work like that for long.
Soon I’ll only get two orgasms for every one of theirs instead of four, then it’ll go down to one, and then I’ll be a hole that they use, my pleasure barely an afterthought.
I want freedom. I want to live in the human realm and pretend supernaturals don’t exist, like I should.
I’ll find a human partner eventually who won’t play these cruel games. Someone who won’t coerce me into having my mouth stuffed full on a cold Halloween night.
My core tightens and I come to a stumbling halt, chest heaving from the effort of breathing.
I don’t even have a plan. The ecstasy short-circuited my fucking brain. I’ve only got a limited amount of time before the hunt begins again, and I’m running frantically through the woods without a goal in sight.
“Think,” I whisper. “What area of town am I close to?”
I’d careened out of downtown into the woods, and I don’t know how far I got before being caught. I need to find the city again to get my bearings—just something small. A house, a road. Lights, even.
I peer up at the sky, past the canopy of pine branches, and beg for it to give me something to go on. My ears perk at the soft filtering of music through the woods. Probably some drunk people keeping the Halloween party going now that the pubs are all closed for the night.
Walking toward them, I stay quiet. I don’t know what kind of people they are or what they’re doing, but I’ve been disarmed and have no way to defend myself. It’s better to stay in the shadows and see if where they are tells me anything.
The bushes rustle with my movements, betraying my attempt at stealth, but even as I get within hearing distance of the group I’m not noticed. They’re too busy listening to music and sitting on logs placed around a fire pit.
It’s a campsite I recognize.
A stream is just beyond the campfire, and on the other side of that is a forest service road. This is the first unsanctioned campsite you can find a short walk from that dirt road, and it’s usually full of drunken high schoolers or college kids like these guys.
And a short ways down the forest service road… My lips spread into a grin.
I know exactly where I’m going to hide.
Lady Morena’s Haunted Mansion is a tall, artfully worn down, black-painted building backing the evergreen forest. Out front is a small pumpkin patch and then vast fields of corn with paths winding through them.
The building is dark, shut down hours ago. As I step onto the creaky porch, none of the spooky animatronics move to scare me. They all stay immobile, ready for the staff to come and pack everything up for the season tomorrow morning.
I worked here one year. A lot of the scare actors are high schoolers. It was an easy, seasonal job where I got to spend time with my friends—and the more time I spent away from home, the better.
After a season scaring the pants off of people, I know every nook and cranny of this haunted house—including the hidden storage room that’s almost impossible to find if you don’t know what you’re looking for.
Walking around the corner of the wraparound porch, I pass through the curtain that hides the area where the staff entrance sits. I would try to pick the lock, but I don’t even have to. From a large jar full of fake eyeballs, placed as decoration at the edge of the porch, I fish out the spare key.
I’m not supposed to know about it, but the owner is forgetful. One night I was early for my shift—it was a bad day at home, and I decided I would rather wait in a rainy pumpkin patch than be there—and watched her use it.
She didn’t know I was around, or I’m sure she would have moved it by now.
Unlocking the door, I pause to listen for anyone inside. Once the echoing creak from the side door fades, there’s only silence.
I step in and lock up behind me. This area isn’t part of the haunted attraction, but it’s creepy all the same. I move past the staff lounge and changing rooms before opening a door and parting a curtain to enter the customer-facing section.
All the hallways are long and narrow, twisting and turning nonsensically while also clearly being designed to funnel everyone through on a singular path. There are very few forks in the road or choices that have to be made.
I’m taken up a set of stairs to the second level, the floorboards rickety enough they make you wonder if you’re about to fall through. I’ve never been sure if that’s a feature intended to add to the vibes, or if the house is poorly-maintained enough that I should actually be worried.
Tonight, nothing can worry me more than the demons hunting me.
I get halfway through the dark haunted house before I start looking for what I came for. Behind a fake spider web guarded by a realistic looking giant wolf spider, I can feel the seam of a door frame behind a black curtain.
Bingo.
Feeling down the wall until I find the doorknob, I glance back over my shoulder before I open it. There’s not a sound coming from anywhere in this haunted house, and no one to be seen in the hall. My thirty minute head start has to be over by now, but it’ll take them a while to find me.
Maybe all night.
I doubt they’ll be expecting me to hide in the secret storage room of a local haunted house. I slip into the room and close the door behind me with a soft click.
The layout is the same as I remember. There’s a workbench along one wall with some drawers full of tools and hardware beside it.
Along the opposite wall is shelving full of totes that will be mostly empty at this time of year.
And the final wall, across from where I stand by the entrance, is empty of shelving but holds a mishmash of random large items.
There aren’t many right now. Most will be out in the haunted house. I can only see a cage, shaped like a bird cage but sized for a human, and a few deflated inflatables.
I don’t have many options for places to hide. Hopefully the hidden nature of the room means that won’t matter, but it’s best not to count on that. Keeping my footfalls light, I tentatively lift one of the inflatables.
The material crinkles as it slides against itself, and I cringe. If I hide under this, then any movements will make sound. It’s the only option unless I want to try and fold myself into a tote bin or put myself in the cage and cover it with a curtain.
I shudder. I’ve been behind bars enough—I don’t want to hide there.
Laying on the floor beside the cage, my knees curled up to my chest, I pull an orange jack-o-lantern inflatable over myself. It smells musty, and dust settles over my body, making me sneeze a few times.
I’m pointedly not thinking about all the insects that could be residing in this seldom-used room. It’s the only way I’m able to settle, letting the side of my head rest against the floor. My heart rate slowly declines to a steady beat as the adrenaline of fleeing fades, and I relax.
There isn’t a sound for a long time.
So long that I get hopeful, wondering if I’ve hidden well enough that I’ll win.
But then, booming footsteps.
I exhale sharply as they echo through the old, ramshackle house. It might not be my hunters. It could be anyone, maybe the owner coming to check on her property during the night when this place is most at risk for vandalism. Maybe a couple of teens looking to cause some chaos.
It’s possible the demons haven’t found me.
The heavy footfalls grow closer, coming up the stairs. They’re on the same level as me now.
I hold my breath as they stomp, heading past the hidden door that leads to my hiding place.
They missed it. I haven’t been discovered.
I don’t dare move—I won’t until dawn breaks—but I let myself breathe again. Wiggle my toes, even. Not anything drastic enough to shift the material, but a movement to remind me that my toes exist.
There’s a bang like a gunshot when the door slams open, hitting the wall. I gasp and then freeze, anxiety holding my body in a vise grip.
“I know you’re in here.” It’s Brellan, his words ripping my hope out through my chest.
How did he know I was here? And why didn’t I hear him backtrack? He wanted to lull me into a false sense of security, and I hate him for it. Their little cat and mouse game is getting really fucking old, and I’m not coming out willingly.
He can drag me from beneath this inflatable pumpkin.
“You’re good at running and hiding,” he comments.
The floor creaks as he crosses the space, but he doesn’t come for me. Through the translucent fabric, the room lights up in flickering orange. He’s lighting candles.
Brellan must intend to claim me here. How is he going to exploit my loss? I’ve experienced Izoran and Lorcan’s kinks—will the impassive demon’s desires be harder for me to satisfy, or easier?
They told me my pussy is off limits until Damek, so does that mean my poor throat will end up used again? My hands, maybe? My breasts?
I shiver, fighting down the unwanted arousal from my imagination’s conjurings.
A shadow hovers over me, lit from behind. It’s clear he’s known my exact location the whole time he’s been in the room. But I’m still not going to give in and reveal myself, even when it’s obvious I’ve been found.
My heart races as seconds tick by. He’s waiting, probably wanting me to give up my hiding spot before he forces me to, but he’ll be waiting a while.
With a heavy sigh, Brellan yanks the pumpkin off my huddled body and grabs me by the arm to pull me to my feet. Head spinning, dizzy from the abrupt change in position, I try to push him off. He holds firm, staring into my eyes.
“You should have come out on your own.”
I kick him in the shin, and he doesn’t even flinch.
“Since you obviously like hiding, I’ll give you a good place to hide.”
Holding my arm in a bruising grip, he reaches over and opens the door of the large bird cage beside my hiding spot. My lips part, gaze darting between the cage and the demon. He’s not going to make me…
He yanks me and I stumble forward. “You’re not going to go in the cage willingly, are you?”
It’s a rhetorical question, but I answer anyway. “I’m not getting into a cage!”
“You don’t have a choice.”
Brellan pushes me down. I thrash, fighting against his manhandling, but I’m no match for a demon. He easily shoves me into the cage, my arms brushing against the frigid metal of the bars, and slams the door shut.
Before I can turn around and try to scramble back out, he’s snapped on a padlock, trapping me.
Slamming my palm against the bars, I let out a short scream. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
Brellan doesn’t say a word. He crosses his arms over his chest, staring down at me. He’s looking at me like I’m a weakling, but I don’t give up, shouting and cursing at him as I shake the cage.
I’m out of breath, sweat dripping down the sides of my face, when he finally speaks.
“Are you ready to make a deal?” he asks.
Both hands gripping the bars, I glare up at him. “A deal?”
“Give me something I want, and I’ll give you something you want. I figured you would know what a deal is.”
“Fuck you.”
“Stay in there, then. You don’t have long until dawn, my queen. I’ll send Damek to fetch you back to the Underworld.” He turns on his heel, his footsteps thundering as they take him toward the door.
I blink after him as he swings into the hallway, not even pausing. He’s seriously just going to… leave me locked in this cage?
“Hey!” I shout.
He backtracks and leans a shoulder against the door. “What?”
“You can’t just leave me here.”
“Yes, I can.”
“Aren’t you worried about me escaping before Damek comes?”
Brellan looks around the storage room. There’s barely anything usable. The tool drawers are way too far for me to reach, and the only thing close to me is my inflatable pumpkin. I can’t break the padlock with my bare hands like they could, and there’s nothing nearby I could use to pick it.
“No, I’m not worried,” he states when he meets my gaze.
Seething, I glare at him. If he leaves again, he’s not going to turn back around. I’ll be stuck in here until the demon king comes for me, losing every chance I have of winning.
But if I make a deal, I’m playing into their hands. It’s so starkly obvious, I’d have to be blind not to see it. First Lorcan, and now Brellan? They know I’m going to lose either way—they just want me to be their willing plaything until I do.
He turns again, and I can’t resist grasping at hope one more time.
“Let’s make a deal.”