16. April 11, 2023
Demon
If there was ever a time when he lived up to his nickname in wanting to do evil, it was now. In fact, he should get an award for how well he was faking his lack of understanding about what Zion was attempting.
He watched Cherry smile at her uncle. “Dinner was wonderful, Zion. Thank you.”
The creep smiled indulgently. “You are so very welcome, bèl fi . Although, truth be told, I tasted very little of it. I was far too distracted by the shining star at my table.”
Good grief. Did women actually fall for that shite?
As he thought about it, he realized that they probably did.
Most women likely fell for the perfectly proportioned face, carefully orchestrated sense of style, and impeccable chivalry.
He bet even men would be susceptible to the cocksucker’s charm and wished they could emulate it. They probably tried.
Others might fall for the mask Zion wore, but Demon knew his kind by sight.
He saw the snake the man really was. Cold.
Emotionless. Ugly. Lethal. This man would hide in the shadows, watching for unsuspecting prey.
When the time came for him to strike, he’d come out of his hiding place with the affectation of a chameleon, blending in with whoever was around him, becoming whomever and whatever was needed to accomplish his goals.
When all of that was done, he’d seduce his prey in close, then tighten himself around them so there was no escape.
He’d squeeze everything out of them he could, and then he’d end their misery with a swift, venomous kill.
Something wasn’t right about the man. He couldn’t tell what, but he knew this guy was more than what he seemed to be.
How had her father not seen it from the start?
Cherry had mentioned that the summer before her graduation, he’d asked her indirect yet probing questions.
Demon suspected that the visit might have been the eye-opener to Zion’s true nature.
Enough, at least, to make him suggest a change of plans for the summer after graduation.
He watched Cherry as she smiled at her uncle. She seemed reserved but open to his compliments. He didn’t believe for a moment she was attracted to the man, but he had to admit he wasn’t sure if she saw what he saw.
When she’d stepped out of their bathroom earlier tonight, he’d frozen.
The dress she was wearing was indecent. It wasn’t, really.
But for six years, he’d only ever seen her in designer jackets, skirts, and stiletto heels.
Tonight, she looked totally unlike the woman he knew and every inch the new bride on a romantic honeymoon to St. Lucia.
Her dress was light and filmy, a blend of natural colors and patterned tightly with flowers.
It wrapped around her form and tied at her hip, the sleeves and hem fluttering with every move, the material revealing every curve while covering them.
She wore flat sandals that tied around her ankles, the polish on her toes matching the deep purple on her fingernails.
She had styled her hair differently too.
A knot at the back of her head created a waterfall of curls instead of her typical French twists.
She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.
He hadn’t been sure he was capable of emotions anymore.
Some might call him a sociopath. Possibly.
He genuinely used to care about other people’s emotions.
In recent years, though, he’d felt frozen.
Even with taking on the job at Tribe, he’d never really felt comfortable amongst the other men.
He’d mourned Sarah’s capture and death. Kubrick’s attack and Flame’s kidnapping had concerned him.
He’d also worried about Waters and Nemo’s return after their capture on missions.
But now? As he sat here on the gallery with her and Zion? He finally understood how Waters, TB, and Nemo had felt when they found their women. How they would do anything to make them happy. How they would deliver unspeakable pain to anyone who meant them harm.
He loved her.
And he knew… knew without a shadow of a doubt… that Zion meant harm for Cherry. It was in every spoken word, every expression, every gesture. Pure malice under a glaze of political charm.
“So tell me how you met this”—Zion glanced over at Demon—“gentleman.”
“Work,” Cherry supplied. “I work in the human resources end of the same company. Ciarán is in operations. He passed my desk every day, and the first time we saw each other, we knew it was meant to be.” She smiled at Demon as she took a sip from her wineglass.
“How very romantic. I’m heartbroken that I wasn’t invited to the wedding.”
There was a smile on the man’s face, but it was false. He wasn’t “heartbroken.” He was mad. Furious, even. And he wasn’t mad about the lack of an invitation. He was mad they were married.
Well. Fake married, but Zion didn’t know that.
“We didn’t want a traditional wedding,” Cherry explained. “We just went to the courthouse.”
Reaching to take her hand, Demon added, “And I couldn’t wait however long it would take to plan a wedding. I needed to make her mine as soon as possible.” There. He staked his claim, clear as day. Cherry was his, and he wasn’t lying.
“We were very lucky that our boss has a romantic heart and let us off for a honeymoon immediately. Coordinating our schedules otherwise would have been a nightmare.”
“Well, I hope my house full of guests starting tomorrow won’t infringe too much on your trip.
The party tomorrow will serve as a reception of sorts.
And there are plenty of things to do and see while you’re here that do not involve family or business.
Far be it from me to impede”—Zion redirected his attention to the knife at his hand on the place setting—“young love.”
Cherry laughed. “Waiting until you’re in your forties to marry for the first time hardly qualifies as ‘young.’”
“This is true. I’ll be honest and say I’m surprised you are married at all. You were always so independent, even as a child. Perhaps you just needed to accomplish certain things before you tied yourself to anyone.”
“Or she was just waiting for the right man,” Demon offered. “Sometimes fate works like that.”
Looking up at Demon, Zion gave his brittle smile again, his hand still playing with the knife, turning it onto its opposite side over and over.
“Yes. I’ve found that fate has a way of stepping in when you least expect it to.
But I’ve also found,” he continued, “that fate can be fickle with the more tender emotions. When one arrives at this stage in life, sometimes we grab onto things in the heat of the moment that fizzle out quickly. I wonder if lifelong devotion isn’t a better source of true feeling than suddenly finding someone. ”
Message received. Zion would wait him out. He didn’t think Ciarán McCarthy was right for Esme Bosworth, but he also thought the man would change his mind. Then he, someone who had wanted Esme for a lot longer, would swoop in and clean up the damage to her broken heart.
While he felt the kick of being deemed unworthy, which he was, the strength of his emotions for Cherry could not be called into question.
Ultimately, they might not work out. She called this temporary.
He’d agreed to her offer of a physical relationship.
If it made her feel better to think he also agreed with the timeline, she had another think coming.
Things had changed, and he wasn’t letting go unless she decided she was done with him.
It would always be her decision, never his.
However, that didn’t mean that Demon would stop loving or protecting her if she ended things.
Inside, he took back his earlier sentiment regarding doing evil.
He wanted to rip this man’s soul from his body, eat it, and destroy it.
Only then would he feel Cherry was safe from Zion Norton.
The man might be rich and powerful. He might be a longtime family friend, given uncle status, but the man coveted her.
The man didn’t want to allow her to be what she was meant to be.
He wanted to make her submit. And as sure as the tides would rise and fall, Demon did not trust this man.
He redirected the conversation. “Cherry tells me you work with many world militaries. I would imagine that would sometimes bring you into conflicts of interest when their goals might be to annihilate each other.”
Zion’s laugh was one of the most genuine things to come out of the man’s mouth since their arrival.
“I can see how, to an outsider, it might seem that way. Perhaps it would if I made weapons. But since my focus is on planes, primarily for logistics, even if two nations are not in complete accord, I find it easy to rationalize. Most of my industry is with Western Europe and its allies, which also makes it easier. It’s rare to find two countries in those areas out of sync.
Spain will never attack somewhere like New Zealand, or probably any country for that matter.
None of them are likely to do so. Western nations are pacifists at heart.
They respond to attacks; they don’t start them. ”
“But those planes transport troops and their weaponry. Their purpose is not simply to exist. They exist as agents of war, or the possibility of war. ”
Zion waved him off. “I don’t get myself involved in the politics of those I do business with.
Truthfully, I don’t involve myself in politics anywhere.
The entire arena bores me simply because it takes so long to accomplish anything when you stop to consider all factors and allow microscopic issues and what-ifs to help you make final decisions.
Businesses cannot operate by those same measures.
We must rely upon owners to make the best decisions for themselves and their buyers. ”
“Isn’t politics a business? They sell an idea rather than a product, yes, but it’s still a commodity.”