Page 32 of The Wickedness of Man

Home directed our new driver—the only one there I hadn’t injured—through the darkened streets, then placed manacles over my wrists and tightened them until my bones ached.

“The bishop isnothappy over that little disappearing act you pulled,” the agent continued. “The archdiocese is calling for blood after you botched that mission, so I’d make my peace now.”

“Wait,” I muttered, “…didn’t… you… catch the… demon?”

The agent turned to me, his blue-gray eyes narrowing in agitation. There was something familiar about him, but I couldn’t place him beneath that mask. He seemed old enough to be someone I’d gone to the seminary with, though.

“No,” he seethed. “We didn’t. Forsome reason, she seemed to know we were coming and set off an illusion we chased around the office for ten goddamn minutes while she made her escape. I wonder… what would have alerted the demon to the organization’s involvement, hmm?”

“Oh,” was all I could manage.

I stared ahead through the metal grate barring the front and backseats. The driver kept peering into the rearview, staring at me in terror.

It occurred to me then that I was in a prisoner transport van—not just one of our regular vans. I stared down at my wrists.

“You really should have just come quietly,” whispered Home, resignation in his words.

“Oh, I don’t know,” said the other agent, grinning through his bloodstained teeth. “I think if anything, he’s made this project even more exciting.”

…Shit.

Magda

The bed was cold when I woke up. I was alone, and my body was smoldering with the most delicious, sensational heat I’d ever felt in my life. I sat up and looked around, stretching languidly like a cat. The room was quiet, and even the sounds of traffic outside were intermittent. It was dark enough, that I figured it must have been pretty late.

“Caleb?” I rose and strode over to the window, dragging the bedsheet with me and tugging it around my torso.

The apartment was on the small side, so it wasn’t like there was anywhere else he could be. His clothes were gone, and if the place didn’t smell like the mixture of our bodies; had his scent not been all over me, I would have thought I’d just imagined the whole scenario.HadI been drugged? Nothing else could explain what the hell had gotten into me. I’d gone from accusing a man I’d only just met of kidnapping me to jumping into bed with him in under five minutes flat. I had no idea where I was, and now that he was gone and I was alone, and I felt strangely… lost.

I hugged my arms around myself in an embrace, squeezing my shoulders. Never before in my life had anyone had that effect on me. I hadn’t been able to think of anything else but ripping his clothes off and ravaging the hard lines of his gorgeous body.Even now, I drew in a shuddering breath and touched my mouth, my throat, my collarbone—anywhere he’d kissed me and I could still feel his touch. My insides felt swollen, but it was the most incredible type of ache I’d ever known.

What had that doctordoneto me?

I looked around the room. My clothes were on the floor, my bag on the nightstand next to my cell, and my shoes were by the door. Caleb—whoever he was—was gone. He’d taken his things and left while I was asleep. Maybe I’d scared him away with my intensity? Or…

I stared out into the misty night. Though I wasn’t sure what time it was, I could feel the quietude of the hour. The sign in the front of the building read that we were in a condo complex. Was thishisplace? Would he come back? I walked over to the kitchen and opened the fridge. Empty. Freezer as well; nothing but two plastic ice trays, both of which contained no cubes. In fact, the whole thing was unplugged.

I took a huge drink of water from the tap, my throat parched as if it was on fire; like the heat of my body was burning me from the inside out. It only occurred to me in that moment what all of these sensations meant: I’d done it. I had sex! I cringed at myself.

I’d had sex, yes… unprotected sex… with a stranger… and let him finish inside of me.

Not let,my thoughts cruelly interjected,you begged him for it. You literally taunted him until he came in you that second time.

“Oh no.” I pressed a hand to my stomach.

I’d never gotten the chance to fill the prescription for birth control pills I’d gotten, in secret, from a local women’s health clinic, since I’d been waiting on the new insurance for everything. Until just a short while ago, I’d been the consummate virgin. Now, only the consummate part remained.But having not really beenentirelyin control of myself, and also having zero experience in how sex conversations evolved, I realized belatedly that there were some questions that I should have asked, like,“Do you have any STDs I should know about?”or,“Happen to have a condom tucked into your gun holster?”

“What iswrongwith you?” I whispered, pressing a palm to my cheek in horror. “You wake up in a room with a hot—butarmed—man, and… even though he was kind… No!”

I marched back toward the bed and grabbed around for my clothes, which were in various heaps—and then my bag, resting still on the nightstand, untouched.

“Just get your things and go,” I advised myself, searching for my missing sock. “Call a cab, or better yet—call Katie. She’ll be pissed, but it’s her fault you’re here, so she’ll just have to deal with it, because there isno waythis can be for real.”

I picked up my phone and unlocked it, but instead of my home screen, there was a typed message—unsent—displayed on the screen. My heart pounded as I read it.

“Even as a succubus…?” I whispered. “Oh god… this isn’t just some fucked-up therapy process? Are they seriously saying I’m ademon?”

I stood, almost immobile, between the dinette table and the bed as bone-tired weariness flooded me to the point that my knees began to shake again. I found my way back to the bed before collapsing safely onto the mattress.

---