Chapter Eleven #2
Damn it. It was the boss. Couldn’t really ignore that one.
DAMYR
My office. Now.
ME
Oomf, bossy. Bet my little bird likes that *winky face*
DAMYR
Now, Byron. Bring Wilder.
I looked at my sleeping little witch and grinned.
He definitely wouldn’t be joining us anytime soon, but I reluctantly uncurled myself from his arms and grabbed a plain black t-shirt to throw on.
My chest ached a little where I’d asked Quill to leave a little present for Wilder, but every time it twinged, a bolt of desire shot straight to my dick.
I couldn’t wait for Wilder to see it.
Or his gift.
I quietly left my rooms and slinked down to Damyr’s office. I was intrigued to know what he was calling me down for on Christmas Eve. I had my own little Christmas present to unwrap, and I didn’t want to miss a second of watching him sleep.
This had better be good, Damyr…
Benji’s Christmas Bash was still in full swing by the sounds of it.
The music had gone from live jazzy carols to a DJ and thumping bass music.
Not my cup of tea but the people down below seemed to be enjoying it.
I had a good vantage point from the balcony above the large old ballroom as I strolled towards the back of the house.
I walked through the hidden door in the wall and down the old servant’s staircase until I reached Damyr’s office.
Most of the shady shit was kept in the basement of the house.
Damyr had two offices. A nice smart one for social visits and the one underground for all the real business.
I didn’t think his command was a social call.
I entered the room to find Vlad and the wendigo on one sofa and Damyr perched on the edge of his desk. His were arms crossed and there was a thunderous look on his darkly handsome face.
I guess Vlad didn’t tell Damyr about his new house guest. Interesting…
Considering that Damyr probably tore a few strips off Vlad for keeping this information to himself, he was looking rather healthy and unbothered.
Apart from the slight pinch to his mouth and the way his knuckles squeezed his glass of whiskey.
The Wendigo looked like he was having the time of his life.
“Where’s Wilder?” Damyr snapped.
“A little tied up right now,” I replied, a little stab of desire pitching low in my stomach as the image of Wilder spread eagle on the bed flashed through my mind.
Damyr scoffed. “Seriously?”
“Yep,” I replied as I sank into the closest armchair and crossed one ankle over the other knee. “So, if we could get this moving?”
The boss pinched the bridge of his nose and muttered something under his breath.
Vlad took a sip of his drink and cleared his throat. “Boss, if I may—”
“No, you may not,” Damyr cut in. “Why the fuck is there a wendigo in my goddamn house?”
Vlad looked at me and jerked his head in the direction of the wendigo.
I arched my brow and lifted my hands in the universal sign for ‘what?’
Vlad huffed and pointed his finger at the wendigo and then at me.
I rolled my eyes at him and turn to Damyr.
“I found the wendigo in the house where I took down John Brown and his associates. I brought him back here because I thought he might have some information on the weird demon that possessed John before I shot him between the eyes, but I haven’t had a chance to interrogate him yet. ”
“I am sitting right here, pretty boy,” Vee drawled, his pale blue eyes flicking between me and Damyr.
He looked better today. The circles under his eyes weren’t as dark and he’d had a wash.
His white-blonde hair was clean, and his pale skin glowed like moonlight against the bright red hoodie that he was wearing.
He was also in a pair of skinny jeans that seemed a little baggy, but I was sure he’d fill out once he started eating properly again.
At least the vampire he’d digested seemed to have given him some decent enough nutrients that he didn’t look like a walking skeleton anymore.
Either that or we’d fed him someone else.
How were we going to feed him?
I’d be happy to find some food for him. Ooh, maybe I could filet someone as I tortured them and feed them to the wendigo while my victim watched.
Vee leant closer to Vlad and dropped his voice to a stage whisper. “Does he always look like he’s killing you seven different ways in his mind?”
Vlad chuckled fondly. “Yeah, or just through you. You kind of get used to it.”
I grinned and Vee grimaced. That just reaffirmed Wilder was perfect for me. He liked my smile.
“Don’t worry, I’m not thinking about killing you,” I said. “In fact, I wanted to ask—”
“You can chat about this in your own time,” Damyr snapped, clearly in a pissy mood. “I want to know how I’m supposed to feed the guy and did you say demon possession?”
“I’m more interested in the fact the guy was called John Brown,” Vee said with a laugh. “I’d only heard him being referred to as Gunner.”
“Which is also a stupid name,” I added. He wasn’t in a motorcycle club, and he didn’t have a gun. “But yes, I said demon possession. John’s eyes went pitch black and his voice changed. It seemed like a demon possession to me, but I’ve not seen that many.”
Damyr’s eyebrows rose at that. “You’ve seen some demon possessions?”
“Yes,” I replied shortly, tapping my fingers on the arm of the chair.
“It was before I started working for you. There was a cult I had been paid to take down, and they’d manage to summon a lesser demon, but this felt more powerful.
Definitely royal. John called him the king before erupting into flames. ”
“Shit,” Damyr huffed. “This is the last thing I want to be dealing with. How did this lowlife crew end up becoming tangled with demons?”
“No idea,” I shrugged. “Bishop has the laptops I stole, and the only other witness is over there.”
Everyone turned to look at the wendigo.
He blinked a couple of times and cast a wary glance up at Vlad.
“What do you remember about your time there?” Vlad asked softly.
Vee pursed his lips in disgust. “You make it sound like I was there on holiday.”
Damyr unfolded his arms and crossed over to sit in the armchair next to me.
The guy was intimidating to most people at the best of times.
He looked lethal, dressed well and scowled like he’d learnt it from the Devil.
He also exuded power and confidence. I could feel the threat in his stature, the power of his vampire nature bold and unapologetic.
It never bothered me, but I’d seen people cowering from him when he let loose the beast inside him.
It was quite spectacular to watch, really.
“You’re not going to let me walk out of here without telling you what I know, are you?” the wendigo sighed.
“Nope,” I said, popping the ‘p’.
Vlad kicked my foot, knocking it off my knee. “Don’t be a dick.”
I flicked my middle finger up at him, but he turned his attention back to the wendigo.
Asshat.
“You’re not a prisoner here, Vee, but we would like to know about the creatures in that house and why they were holding you.
” Vlad turned his body towards Vee, keeping his movements slow and his body language open.
It was amazing how someone so big could make themselves look harmless.
I still hadn’t worked out if that was impressive or reckless.
Vee ran his hands down his face and took a deep breath, letting it out in a rush. “Okay, so I’m from this tiny little town in north America—”
“You don’t sound American,” I cut in.
“Because I’m not, and don’t interrupt, it’s rude. Didn’t anyone ever teach you manners?” Vee narrowed his eyes at me and stared deep into mine for a long moment.
I wasn’t going to be the first to look away. “Friendly word of advice, you probably shouldn’t wind up the psychopath.”
Vee swallowed and a rosy-pink blush bloomed across his cheeks. “Well, don’t piss me off or I’ll eat you and all that will be left of you is your hair.”
I held his stare for another moment longer before barking out a laugh. “Just my hair?”
“Yes, it gives me hair balls that I have to cough up and that’s usually back when I’m in human form,” Vee explained. “It’s very unpleasant.”
Well, that was a grim image.
“Makes sense,” Vlad mused. “But please, carry on. I’m sure Byron won’t interrupt again.”
I held my hands up and sat back in my chair. I had to admit, my curiosity was piqued, but I still hoped it was a short story. I had somewhere else to be and a witch to play with.
“Okay, so I’m originally from Manchester, but my parents moved me out to America when I started showing signs of turning.
My mum was a religious fanatic and a bit cuckoo but there’s too much there to unpack and I’ve put all that emotional baggage in a locked box I refuse to open.
My father was too much of a coward to stand up to her and so we all went to America seeking answers as to why God had cursed her with a son like me.
” Vee kept his eyes on the floor as he spoke, and his eyes had a glassiness to them as he lost himself in his memories.
His mouth bobbed open and closed a few times before he took another deep breath, blowing out a very shaky exhale.
Vlad wrapped a hand around Vee’s and gave it a quick squeeze. “Take your time.”
Interesting that the wendigo didn’t flinch when Vlad touched him…
Vee nodded before brushing his hand over his mouth.
“Three years ago, when I turned twenty-one, I completely changed for the first time and it was… well, I don’t really remember it.
I woke up surrounded by pieces of bone and lots of blood.
My mum found me and started screaming all this shit from the bible.
Next thing I knew, I was strapped to a table with some priest performing an exorcism and I blacked out again.
When I awoke, they were all dead but my wendigo had left my mother’s head on a silver platter so that I knew he’d killed her for me.
Since then, I’ve been on the run. I’d tried to find other wendigos, but I never found any.
I heard about Misthaven and thought I’d find solace here, but I put my trust in the wrong person and ended up in that shitty room, being fed just enough scraps to keep me alive but not enough to keep me healthy. ”
The room was silent when he’d finished and it was clear he felt a little awkward. His eyes were downcast, and he buried his hands in the pocket of his hoodie.
“I’m sorry you had to go through all of that,” Vlad said, his voice quiet. He gazed at Vee with a look in his eye I couldn’t quite pin down. Fascination maybe, or infatuation?
“Well, it is what it is,” Vee replied, brushing his life’s story off as if it were nothing. “But to answer your earlier question about the people holding me, I don’t really remember much. I was too weak to really pay attention, and I was always in that room. The only person I saw was my guard.”
Damyr sighed, disappointed he wasn’t going to get anything useful.
“You didn’t hear anything? See or smell anything?” I asked, hoping to get something useful out of this. Otherwise, what was the fucking point of me being here?
Vee turned his head to one side and gnawed on his bottom lip. “Sometimes there was the faintest scent of something sweet and syrupy. It always reminded me of the fairground because it was like—”
“Candy apples,” I hissed, cutting in. That goddamn fucking asshole.
“Yeah,” Vee said. “How did you know?”
I jumped up from my chair, anger instantly pulsing through my veins.
“Byron, what is it?” Damyr asked, his voice laced with caution.
“Wilder’s father. Lawler fucking Rowan,” I growled. “He keeps cropping up and I don’t fucking like it.”
My hands flew through my hair, my mind running at a thousand miles a second. I needed to get Wilder somewhere safe. He couldn’t be here. I needed to protect him.
I had to keep him safe.
He was mine.
All mine.
Mine. Mine. MINE!
Hands gripped my shoulders, and I lashed out. My fist connected with something solid and there was a grunt of pain, but it didn’t really register. I had to leave. Had to check on Wilder.
I darted to the door, but something slammed into my side and threw me to the floor.
Damyr’s bright blue eyes filled my vision, and something buzzed in my ears like white noise.
“Calm down, Byron,” Damyr whispered softly, his words ricocheting around my brain and soothing my chaos.
“I have to save him. I have to be near him, Damyr.”
He frowned at me, and I could sense the wary glances from the others on the sofa but I couldn’t seem to pull my focus away from Damyr. He must be using his compulsion on me to keep me still. Sensible, even if I hated it.
“Let me go,” I said as I flexed my hands against his biceps.
“Are you going to punch me again?” he asked with a chuckle.
It was only then that I clocked the blood under his nose.
Oops.
“No, but I need to be near him, Damyr. I…” I trailed off, unsure how to put into words what I needed.
“I understand,” he replied softly as he leant back and gave me some space. “Probably better than most. Although I am surprised it’s Wilder. I thought I would have to spend time keeping him safe from you.”
I got to my feet and shook out my hand that I used to hit Damyr. I think I might have broken a knuckle. “Oh, you definitely should, but don’t worry. I don’t want to kill him anymore. I just want to have some fun.”
“I don’t think that’s any better,” Vlad called after me as I headed towards the door.
I cast a quick glance over my shoulder towards Damyr. “I’m sure Bishop will tell you if he finds anything. Now I think we should all go and enjoy our Christmas treats.”
Then I walked out of the room and headed back to Wilder like the Devil was on my heels.