Chapter 18
LYRA
Icouldn’t stop thinking about what happened in the study as I pulled into the driveway of a single-family home. Grey’s house looked nothing like I had imagined.
Not like I’d imagined it countless times or anything.
I double-checked the address to make sure I was at the right place.
The secluded location was far away from nosy neighbors.
No one could hear the screams of his victims…
in the bedroom. I squeezed my legs together, remembering how it felt to have his hands on me and his tongue down my throat.
Okay, something was seriously wrong with me.
My SUV headlights put a spotlight on Grey. He sat on his porch drinking a beer. He’d changed out of his suit and into a sweatshirt and some pants. Exhaustion lit his face, and seconds ticked by until I realized I was staring.
“You set the house on fire?” I shouted, stumbling out of the car.
“Yeah, and now Devin won’t know the book is missing,” he said flatly.
“People were in the house!” I stomped forward. “I was in the house!” Leaves and mud caked the bottom of my heels. I held the hem of my dress to keep it from dragging through the mud.
“But did you die?” he mocked. The bottle dangled loosely between his fingers, swaying back and forth. “Obviously not if you’re standing on my fucking porch.” Grey flung the door open and walked inside, not waiting to see if I followed.
I fought the urge to roll my eyes and stopped in front of a doormat. Aw, he was a domesticated demon. I wiped the mud from the bottom of my shoes and stepped inside. My mouth fell open. I don’t know what I expected to see—maybe a demon’s lair or a torture chamber. Not a normal living room.
Hardwood floors stretched the entire expanse of the house, accentuating clean lines and minimalistic décor. Actually, there were no decorations or personal effects at all. The living room walls were bare along with the rest of the room, except for the multiple stacks of books on the floor.
I made sure Grey was still preoccupied and continued my snooping into the kitchen. It was the same as the living room—functional but not personal. Okay, I take back the functional part—he didn’t even have a coffee maker. What even was the point of having a kitchen?
A loud crunch forced me to look down. The remnants of a beer bottle covered the floor and the book we’d stolen lay on the counter.
“What do you need help with?” Grey glowered.
I didn’t answer. Instead, I pushed past him and headed for the door.
“Where are we going?” Grey called from behind me.
“We’re going to church.”
This was a bad idea. A terrible idea. I was tempting fate bringing a demon to this sacred place. But the whispers wouldn’t relent, and I wasn’t coming out here alone.
I braced myself, expecting voices, movement—anything. But no spirits waited for me. The whispers only scratched at the back of my mind. The piercing, invasive thoughts from earlier had died down to only small whimpers and pleas.
I got comfortable, sitting on the church pew, dangling my shoes from my hand. The hike out here in heels had been torturous.
I waited for Grey to step inside, but he refused to move from the doorway. His posture was rigid, his gaze fixed straight ahead.
“Grey?” I called out, making sure he was still there after sitting in awkward silence for what felt like an eternity.
There was no answer, but I heard his labored breathing.
“This fucking place,” Grey murmured as he finally stepped inside.
“So—” My voice cracked. I coughed, trying again. “So did you find what you were looking for in the spellbook?” I decided to fill the void.
“I’m more interested in the reason you dragged me to this fucking place.”
“Language,” I scolded, preparing to be smited by an angry god for one of the many sins I had committed tonight.
Grey rolled his eyes. “Don’t change the subject. What are we doing here?”
“Oh. Um, sometimes the spirits…whisper.” My mouth went dry at the words. I faced him, taking a deep breath to collect my unruly thoughts. “Sometimes the spirits whisper, and I come out here to the church to help them pass across the veil.”
His nostrils flared. “You’ve got to be shitting me. You’re a shepherd of lost souls. And you’re just bringing this up now? Witches and their fucking secrets.”
“I don’t make it a habit of telling people about my freakiness.”
A muscle in Grey’s jaw clenched. “Of course.” He looked around. “The church is now an entrance. No wonder she was obsessed with this place.”
“Hey, you don’t tell me anything either.” I crossed my arms. “Trust is a two-way street.”
Lightning flashed, shining through the stained-glass window.
The spirits always seemed to be the loudest at the worst times, like during a storm.
Thunder followed the lightning strike, one after the other, rattling the world around us.
Rain was inevitable; the only question was how long it would hold off.
“Whose spellbook is it?” I asked. “If we’re going to work together, we need to start telling each other things.”
I was met with only silence. Nervous energy bubbled up in me and I shot to my feet, no longer able to sit still.
“Veda.” He spoke so quietly I almost missed it.
I had a name. It was a start.
“If you want me to cast a spell from someone else’s spellbook, I’m going to need more information.” I said, tiptoeing to the front of the church. I needed to get rid of these jitters.
“You get three questions.”
“Five,” I countered.
“This isn’t a negotiation. Take it or leave it.”
“Who’s Veda?”
“The witch who put the collar around my neck.”
“No shit.” Grey looked at me like that was a sufficient answer to my question. Like he hadn’t just regurgitated the same information.
“If you want better answers, ask better questions.”
I rolled my eyes. I could strangle him, but that would probably just turn him on.
“Why did she put the collar around your neck?”
He took a deep breath, leashing the rage close to escaping, “To control me. To use me.” Grey didn’t elaborate. The pained look and strained tone said it all. He hated Veda, but he also loved her.
“What type of magic did Veda practice?” I finally asked a useful question. I wasn’t jealous, just curious.
“Dark and ancient magic. Bordering on necromancy.”
A chill crept up my spine. It shouldn’t be shocking. Not from the small fragments of information I’d gathered.
“Ouch!” I shouted. Stinging, burning pain shot from my foot from a rusty nail embedded in the sole.
Grey’s footsteps sounded down the aisle. “Let me see,” he said in an almost tender tone. In one easy movement, he lifted me onto the altar. I gasped as the coldness of the stone pierced the silky material of my gown.
He lifted my foot to his eyeline with careful hands. The skirt of my dress spilled open, exposing my legs all the way up to my thong. I squeezed my thighs together, trying to combat the growing sensation between them.
His fingers toyed with the hem of my dress and a loud ripping drowned out my heavy breathing.
“Hey! What are you doing?” I tried to yank it from his grasp. A long strip of silk hung from his hand.
“This is going to hurt.” He bent my knee, trying to get a better angle.
I had no doubt it was going to hurt, if he really was as big as I thought. Oh right, he meant bandaging my foot.
“Fuck,” I instinctively yanked my foot away from the source of the pain.
“Stop squirming.” His grip tightened on my ankle, pulling me closer. “I’m almost done.”
I gritted my teeth, grabbing tightly to the edge of the altar to keep my balance. I turned my head, not wanting to see what he was doing.
His rough hands finished bandaging my foot, but he didn’t let go. They traveled up my thigh, and my legs fell open, my traitorous body begging for his touch. “Tell me to stop.” Grey’s voice lowered an octave.
I opened my mouth but shut it. I wanted this. Wanted Grey.
I sucked in a breath, as he kissed around the wound he had just cleaned. “I want you so fucking bad. Starting with these.” He nipped at my toes and then sucked on them.
I threw my head back, bizarrely turned on at the idea of having someone worshipping my feet.
“Spread those legs for me, little witch.”
He kissed and bit his way up my thighs. A mixture of pain and pleasure made the church tilt as his teeth dug into a sensitive spot on my inner thigh. I thrashed but that only had him biting harder, drawing blood. His tongue lapped it up, stopping inches from my throbbing clit.
“I want you to beg for it. For me. A willing participant in your own corruption.”
“Grey…” I couldn’t even think of anything else. Only him. “Please.” I gasped. I was crawling out of my skin with desperation.
“You’re going to have to do better than that. Beg for what you want.” His breath heated against my thighs.
“I want you…” My body shook with need. “To touch me. Fuck me. Use me.” I pleaded. If he didn’t touch me right this second, I was going to implode.
“Look at you—my own personal fucking sacrifice. So willing to be ruined by a creature of hell.” His head dropped between my legs, pushing aside my soaking wet underwear, and he ran his tongue along my center.
He focused on my swollen clit, worshipping me with his blasphemous tongue.
My fingers twisted in his dark hair, tugging at the roots.
He continued to toy with my clit, first with small circles before he started to suck on it.
The world around me spun, and even with my glasses, my vision blurred from the sensation building between my legs.
A moan escaped as he slid a finger inside followed by a second, stretching me further and further.
My muscles tensed around his fingers, and my legs shook as a wave of pleasure rolled over me.
“Fuck,” I whimpered as he ran his tongue one final time through my folds, consuming every last drop.
He rose from between my legs, wiping my desire from his face. His urgency was apparent by his jerky movements.
“I’m on the pill,” I blurted out. I had no clue how the anatomy of a demon fucking a witch worked. But it felt like a good thing to say in the moment.
He loosened his pants just enough to free his incredible length, and my mouth fell open. There was absolutely no way he was going to fit inside of me.
“You’re going to take all of it like a good girl.” Without warning, he thrust forward, not waiting for me to adjust to his size before pulling out and ramming back in again.
“Oh my god.” The words began as a pained scream but turned into a toe-curling moan. It felt like I was being torn apart and put back together all at the same time.
“No god could make you feel this good.” His hips thrust, creating a quick, steady rhythm.
He yanked down the front of my dress, a smirk forming when he realized I hadn’t worn a bra. He palmed my breast and squeezed.
“Why do you still have all your clothes on?” I panted, desperately grasping at the hem of his shirt. I needed to see him. Feel him. He released my breast to pull his sweatshirt over his head, revealing hard planes and toned muscles.
His tongue lazily brushed over my hardened nipple. It was all too much. I squirmed, trying to escape the overstimulation, but he pinned me down, pumping hard and deep the more I struggled.
I clawed at his back, digging my nails into him.
“Fuck, Lyra…” He grabbed the back of my neck, forcing me to meet his eyes. I stared, drowning in the dark pools of black.
Coldness pricked at my skin. “What the fuck?” My breath was visible as I spoke.
Grey froze, his dick still inside me. Behind him stood a looming figure whose features were hidden by shadows. The spirit didn’t move or speak.
“Shit!” I pushed Grey away and immediately felt empty as he pulled out.
“I can’t believe I’m being cock-blocked by a spirit,” Grey said in a lethal growl.
The spirit made no effort to move. He just stood there. I swung my legs off the altar and slowly approached.
“Hi, my name is Lyra,” I said, shoving my boobs back into my dress.
The spirit blinked, letting me know he heard me. I took another tentative step forward, and when he didn’t shy away, I took another until I was face-to-face with him. I reached out my hand for him to take it, but instead, he vanished.
Of course, the spirit wouldn’t be ready. That would’ve been too easy.
I reclaimed my spot in the pew, toying with the ends of my hair, avoiding Grey’s gaze.
“So, how’s this thing work?” he asked.
I winced, internally screaming. When I didn’t answer he threw my words from earlier back at me, “If we’re going to work together, we need to tell each other stuff.”
My shoulders sagged in defeat. He had me there. “Step one, the spirits relentlessly hound me until I answer. Step two, I come to the church to find them waiting for me. And step three, they take my hand and pass beyond the veil.”
“I’ve never met a shepherd before, but I’ve heard stories of witches being able to cross over the veil. Can you?”
“No. I mean, I don’t think so… I’ve never tried.” I hesitated. “Truthfully, my magic scares the shit out of me and so do the spirits.” That was the first time I’d ever admitted that to anyone.
“But you still come out here to help them.”
“It’s for my own sanity. The headaches from the whispers can become unbearable if I stay away for too long. My mom…” I trailed off, biting my tongue, locking away the memory.
“Tell me about her.”
“She was the best, and I know everyone says that about their mom, but she really was.” I beamed. “She was kind, thoughtful, and the best person I’ve ever known.”
“What happened to her?”
“She died…in a car accident.” I gave the answer I’d been told over and over again.
Grey’s expression shifted, sadness creasing his eyes. “Losing someone you love is hard, but you’re keeping her memory alive.” He hadn’t offered condolences like everyone else. Instead, he gave me the opportunity to talk about her. To remember her.
Guilt twisted my insides. It had been so long since I’d spoken about her, I had begun to forget the little details. Like the way her voice sounded, the smell of her perfume, even the exact color of her eyes.
I wished more than anything she was here right now. She would know exactly what to do with the spirits. She always did. But instead of my mom’s comforting words, silence settled over everything.
I rose. “I don’t think the spirit is coming back tonight. We better head back before the rain comes.”