Page 6 of Dormeo
Barghest looks at me, concerned, so I walk further into the room, preparing myself for the ear-piercing scream she’s guaranteed to make when she wakes to find me looming over her.
But still, she doesn’t move.
My unwelcome guest lies on her back, hands folded demurely on her stomach, and long blonde waves resting perfectly over her slim shoulders. Fully clothed, a thin sheet covers her body, secured neatly under her armpits. She’s been posed like this.
This isn’t a woman who decided to go for a nap all by herself and tuck herself in.
“What the hell is this?” I demand, to nobody in particular, and Barghest growls, as if to say how the fuck would he know.
Groaning in annoyance, I lean closer and listen to her vitals. Her heart is strong, and her lungs are working well. She’s notinjured, so why isn’t she waking up when a deadly demon is standing right beside her, shouting at her?
Something else is at play here.
“Bring Gaap here,” I order, and Barghest hurries from the room, sparks dancing in his wake as the massive hellhound runs straight through the closed door, his form turning ghostlike for a moment as he passes through the solid mass.
It’s creepy. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to seeing him do that, but it's very useful in a pinch.
Once he’s gone, I inch closer to Miss Rose Farly. She’s pretty, with full lips and a small, dainty nose. Her blonde hair is full and shiny, the colour of golden straw.
Her father was right to be worried. There isn’t a demon here that wouldn’t relish the chance to corrupt her. If you looked up the definition of innocence, this woman would be right there. I growl, breathing her scent deep, and hating how appealing it is. But behind the delicious smell, there’s something bitter that irritates my nose. Magic. Dark magic at that.
She does not belong in this place, and anger at her father’s selfishness bubbles up inside me once more.
“Oh my, what a gift you have been given.” Gaap announces his arrival in husky low tones, a wicked sparkle in his eyes, as he comes to stand on the opposite side of my giant, four-poster bed.
“She’s not mine. And certainly not yours.”
This is not a human dumped here to have some fun with before we discard them to the afterlife.
Gaap’s hand lifts, and he hovers his fingers above the pale, delicate skin of her inner arm. He wants to touch her.
Reaching out, I slap his hand away, and he frowns, looking at the offending appendage like he had no idea it had moved. It’s a compulsion I can empathise with. There’s something about her.
“This one needs to go back in one piece.”
There’s something different about Gaap when he finally drags his gaze away from the woman lying on the bed. Something almost adoring. Unusual for a man with such afuck them and leave themattitude.
“And she will, but there’s nothing to say we can’t make the most of her stay with us. Let her have some fun that she'll be able to remember for the rest of her boring life.”
Gaap’s eyes have turned black, and despite the fact he was getting his cock serviced by someone else only minutes ago, I can feel the lust rolling off him.
He wants her. And I don’t like it.
“She’s unconscious. You’re not fucking someone who’s out cold.” I might turn a blind eye to lots of depraved things on a daily basis, but I like my partners willing, or preferably, begging.
Gaap shakes his head but smiles at me, a devious glint in his eye.
“Not me,you. She is yours toplaywith,” he assures me, despite the cloying envy I can feel coming from him in waves. “You don’t have to stick your cock in her to have fun, although I’m sure that would be nice too. You’ve been cooped up down here for too long, brother.” Tapping the side of his head with one claw, he sighs, disappointed he has to spell it out for me. “Use your imagination. Or rather, hers. If she’s going to be asleep for her entire stay, you may as well give her some interesting dreams. And reap the benefits.”
It’s been a long time since I used my dream walking powers. All upper-level demons possess the ability to invade a person’s sleep, drawing power from the strong sexual emotions we can evoke by merely pushing certain images at them.
In hell, death and pain are used by most demons to draw power from the fear and anguish it creates.
Incubi have a much less traumatic means of using humans to recharge their batteries: lust.
By visiting the human realm, and their prey in erotic dreams, they feed on the arousal it creates, so when the human wakes up, there’s a smile on their face. It’s a win-win, provided nobody gets caught.
“She’s strong, I can feel it. I can taste it in the air. You lucky thing. With her locked away in your chambers like this, she’s like your own personal power supply.”
