13. Virgil
VIRGIL
I pressed down harder on Barythaya, my hands trembling, fingers digging into her skin like I could somehow pull her back. The words of exorcism fumbled from my mouth, cracking and breaking under the weight of my fear. My voice wasn't steady, wasn't strong, but I prayed it was enough.
"Come on, come on, Barythaya…" My breath hitched; my heart pounding so hard it felt like it might tear through my chest. I pressed my hand to her heart, trying to feel for something—anything—that was still her .
But what stared back at me… it wasn't her.
Those eyes, once full of warmth, love—hell, even that hint of sarcasm she always had—were gone. In their place were black, empty pools that saw nothing. The demon inside her twisted her face into something ugly and putrid, making a mockery of her beauty that made my gut churn.
The laughter that followed wasn't human. It was like someone scraping a jagged edge across my brain, and it echoed, making my head pound. The sound filled the room, filled me , and I couldn't shake it.
"You think you can save her?" the demon hissed, using her voice, twisting her lips into a cruel grin. "She's already mine, Virgil. You're wasting your breath."
A sick wave of nausea hit me. Hearing that thing use her voice to mock me, ignited something primal in me. My throat tightened, panic clawing at me from the inside out.
"Shut the hell up!" I roared, desperation bleeding into my voice. My hands dug deeper, gripping her like she was already slipping away and I had to hold on.
I needed to reach her. I had to pull her out of whatever hell this demon had dragged her into. Had to.
But the air around us—it shifted, darkened. Like something was closing in, wrapping itself around us. Shadows flickered on the edges of my vision, moving, writhing. They weren't just shadows. They felt alive, thick, suffocating. It was like I was drowning, and no matter how much I fought to breathe, I couldn't. My words faltered.
The room blurred, everything turning to smoke and fog, the world twisting like some nightmarish funhouse. I couldn't see her, couldn't see anything. My chest tightened, my lungs burning as the pressure in the room grew, pushing against me until I thought my skull might crack open.
The power that hit me wasn't just ancient—it was crushing, overwhelming. It slammed into me like a freight train, knocking me off her and sending me crashing to the floor. The cold, unforgiving ground met me with a painful thud and the wind got knocked out of me in one sharp exhale. Pain shot up my spine making me groan through gritted teeth. I tried to get up, but everything spun. My body was useless, paralyzed by the force of it all.
I blinked, vision swimming, everything around me a distorted mess. The last thing I heard was that damn laughter, echoing inside my skull, deep and venomous. I wanted to scream, to fight, but there was nothing left in me.
Then… darkness.
When I came to, my whole body ached. The room was still spinning, my vision nothing but a blur of shapes and shadows. I tried to focus, to make sense of where I was. The air felt cold, too cold, like death had left its fingerprints on everything.
Then I saw her.
Barythaya.
She was standing over me, her face soft, her eyes no longer those bottomless pits of nothing. She looked like herself—calm, like everything was back to normal. But something felt wrong. Something crawled under my skin, an unease I couldn't shake.
Her movements… they were too controlled. Too measured. Like she was playing a role, moving through the motions of being Barythaya, but something else was underneath. Something darker.
"Barythaya?" My voice was hoarse, and fear gripped my throat tighter with every word. I pushed myself up, my limbs heavy, heart thudding painfully in my chest.
She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. God, it was subtle, just a flicker, but it was there. That uncertainty that she still wasn't whole.
"Virgil," she whispered, her voice cutting through the chaos still crashing around in my head. Her hand slid up to my cheek, cool and soft, grounding me, like she could silence the storm raging inside me with just a touch.
"It's me, baby. Talk to me."
I blinked, trying to clear the haze in my head but everything felt wrong, like I was stuck between a dream and reality. My body screamed at me to let go, but that nagging feeling told me something was off .
"Barythaya?" My voice cracked, her name barely making it out of my throat.
Her smile was soft, almost too calm in contrast to what had just ensued. The corners of her lips curled, that familiar look that always did something to me, a warmth creeping in where doubt still festered.
"I'm alright. You saved me, Virgil. I knew you wouldn't leave me," she said, her words soothing, like everything was somehow back to normal.
But it wasn't. I could feel it. And as I lay there, staring up at her, I could sense a tension in the air that wouldn't leave, something crawling under my skin.
I cradled her face in my hands, fingers gently tracing the outline of her jaw as I searched her eyes, desperate for answers. "Are you okay? What the hell happened ?"
My voice was low, shaky, my mind scrambling to make sense of everything that had gone down.
Her gaze met mine, steady, but… distant. "I don't know," she murmured, shaking her head slightly. "It all happened so fast. One moment I was trapped, the next… you were lying here. I was so scared something had happened to you."
I swallowed, my thumb brushing against her cheek, trying to draw her back to me, to anchor her in this moment. "You're sure? You're not hurt?" I scanned her face, her body, looking for any sign of pain, any indication that she was hiding something from me. She had to be hiding something —this didn't make sense.
She placed her hand over mine, leaning into my touch, her eyes softening as she shook her head again. "I'm fine, Virgil. Really." But there was something missing in her voice—something I couldn't quite put my finger on.
I exhaled, not entirely believing her but not wanting to push, not yet. "I don't understand," I muttered, mostly to myself. My mind was a mess, the entire night was a blur, screams, the flashes of fire. I couldn't piece it together. I felt like I was grasping at shadows, and every time I thought I had something, it slipped through my fingers.
She tugged gently on my hand, pulling me to my feet. Her hands lingered on my shoulders, longer than necessary, grounding me but still keeping me off balance.
"We should go," she said softly.
I nodded, though the word felt hollow on my tongue. Nothing about this was over . But she was here, in front of me, safe. And that had to be enough for now.
I wrapped my arm around her waist, pulling her close, needing to feel her next to me, needing to remind myself she was real.
Together, we stumbled out of the clubhouse, the weight of the night pressing down on me with every step. But that gnawing feeling? It didn't leave. It was just getting started.
Outside, the world had gone to hell. The maze had been burnt to the ground, firetrucks now lined up along the trail, most of the crowd had dispersed and gone home. Saddle approached us, concern in his eyes.
"Ya'll okay?"
I nodded. " For now. You need any help?
He looked at the mess. "I think we got it under control. Fire Chief's son calls something in and they get here fast."
"That's good."
He placed a hand on my shoulder. "You look like you just fought a battle. Are you sure you're good, brother?"
I nodded, seeing Bulldog coming toward us. Barythaya tensed slightly. "It's alright," I whispered to her, soothing her. I figured this had all been too much for her.
"You look pale as a ghost," Bulldog said, concern etched on his face. "This night has been a shitshow."
"Yeah, I can agree with that," I muttered.
"Is she alright?" He gestured at Barythaya, catching her gaze but she quickly looked down at her feet.
"I think it's time I take her home. I'll give you a rundown of the situation tomorrow."
Bulldog shook his head. "All I need to know is if whatever that was, should be concerning for the MC?"
I shook my head. "No. This is personal business and until I don't figure this shit out, I'd prefer you all stay out of it. What I'm dealing with won't be resolved with guns and fist fights, or burning down structures. I'm gonna need something a lot stronger to make this fucker spend all of its eternity chained in hell.
Bulldog glanced at Saddle but there was an understanding between us, and they both nodded. "You go on home then. You know we're here if you need us."
I nodded. "I appreciate that." I pulled Barythaya tighter to me, almost protectively, as we made our way to my bike.
"Are you sure you could ride?"
"Sweetheart, the only way I'll clear my head is if I ride. So hold on tight."
The wind howled as we sped away, leaving the chaos behind us, but the further we got, the more that nagging feeling clawed its way back in.
When we reached her place, a strange relief settled over me, but it was laced with something darker, something unsettling. I kept pushing it down, blaming it on the adrenaline, the exhaustion. I had her back. That was what mattered.
But the moment the door clicked shut behind us, Barythaya turned to me, her movements smooth, almost calculating. Her eyes, half-lidded and dark, locked onto mine with a hunger I couldn't quite place. Her lips curled in a slow, deliberate smile that set my blood on fire.
"I need you," she whispered, stepping closer until I could feel her breath against my skin. Her hands, cool and smooth, trailed over my chest, igniting that fire that always lit up when we were together.
It was probably all of the adrenaline coming to a peak, but her touch quickly sent a jolt of electricity through me, waking up every nerve in my body, and I couldn't help but groan. My hands instinctively found her hips, pulling her against me, craving the heat of her body. But as my fingers dug into her flesh, that unease flared up again. Something about the way she touched me, the way she moved—it felt different .
"I need you too," I murmured, though the words came out rough, conflicted. But I couldn't stop myself. She was like a drug, and I was already too far gone.
Before I could think too hard, she pushed me back, her strength taking me by surprise as my back slammed into the wall. Her lips crashed into mine with a bruising force, all teeth and heat, and I groaned into her kiss, my mind clouding over with lust. That nagging feeling buried itself deep, lost under the weight of this hunger I had for her. I wanted to feel something other than darkness. I really did need her.
Her hands were everywhere, frantic, demanding, tearing at my clothes like she couldn't get me naked fast enough. I hissed as her nails dragged down my chest, sharp, and painful, but that edge between pain and pleasure that followed had me gripping her tighter, my hands roaming over her skin, greedy, needy.
We stumbled into the bedroom, leaving a trail of clothes in the hallway, and by the time she pushed me onto the bed, my mind was a haze of lust and confusion. She straddled me, her hot sweet pussy sliding its juices along my now rock-hard dick. She pinned me down with surprising strength as she leaned over me, her breath hot against my ear.
"You're mine," she whispered, her voice dripping with possession, with something darker, something raw. "All mine."
She slid her pussy over my cock, gasping as it slid into her. "Fuck me, please."
Her words hit me like a punch to the gut, and my body reacted without hesitation. My blood pounded in my ears, every part of me screaming for her, needing her. She moved against me, her hips grinding into mine with a hunger that sent shockwaves through my system, and I gave in completely, thrusting my cock into her with reckless abandon.
Her fingers dug into my wrists, pinning them above my head as she took control, her body riding me like she was possessed. There was an intensity in her movements, something rougher, more desperate than I'd ever felt before. And I matched her pace, my body straining against hers, the room filled with the raw, erotic sounds of our sweaty bodies colliding.
Her lips trailed over my neck, biting down hard enough to blur the lines between pain and pleasure until I couldn't tell the difference. I groaned, thrusting harder, faster, that familiar heat building low in my gut, coiling tighter and tighter until I was ready to break.
Just as I reached the edge, her voice slithered into my ear, soft, seductive. "I love you, Virgil," she whispered, her nails sinking into my skin as I finally let go, my body shuddering violently as I came, her words ringing in my head like a curse.
"You're mine. You belong to me."
The words sent a chill down my spine, but I was too far gone to care, too lost in the heat and the release to let the unease settle in. My cock exploded inside of her, filling her with my heat. She moaned, her pussy squeezing it, milking it.
"Fuuuuck," I groaned, throwing my head back as my cock jerked inside her.
She collapsed on my chest, shivering slightly. Her pussy muscles fluttering around my semi-hard dick that was still nestled inside her. I slid my arms around her, enjoying the weight of her perfect curves as they fit perfectly against me.
Ater a little while, I slid her off me, my cock instantly missing her warmth. I cuddled her against me, her breath warm against my chest and I held her close. My heart was slowly calming, the adrenaline finally fading. But that doubt, that nagging feeling I'd tried to bury—it was still there. Lurking.
She looked like Barythaya. Spoke like her, felt like her, but it wasn't her. Not completely. I brushed a hand down my face, shoving the thought aside. Closing my eyes, I let the exhaustion pull me under.
I was being paranoid.
She was fine, I had her back.
That's all that mattered.
But as I drifted into sleep, that one question gnawed at me.
How the hell was I supposed to protect her from the demon when I couldn't even tell if she was even still herself ?