Page 6 of Demon Apathy: Sunderverse
I rolled my eyes. As if the purpose of insults was to be constructive. And this from someone who was using torture to achieve what he wanted. Like that was productive!
“I’ll be back,” Jophiel said, sounding as threatening as The Terminator himself.
Really and truly, the guy sounded like a bigger asshole than Drevan. A pair made for each other. If only Phenog would take me back, I would let them continue their idyllic relationship.
At least he was leaving, which meant I would be able to set Drevan free and go back to my peaceful life in St. Louis. I couldn’t believe I’d once wanted to be a demon hunter more than anything else. Of course, it had been for the wrong reasons: status, money, a snazzy uniform, and a stupid pin in the shape of horns. How misguided I’d been.
Retreating steps echoed down the hall once more. I waited for several moments, holding my breath and listening intently. Chains clanged, and Drevan grunted a few times. Slowly, I peeked around the corner down a short hall that led to what appeared to be a circular room. There was no door, and a curved wall with an arched window and two torches at each side stretched forward. The rest of the room was hidden from view, so I caught no glimpse of Drevan or anyone else.
Still holding the sword in front of me, I peeled away from the wall and tiptoed in the direction of the room. I craned my neck as I went to see more of the space, and just as I caught sight of one of Drevan’s bound hands, he spoke in a whisper.
“Who’s there? Phenog?”
I stopped and closed my eyes, feeling wholly unprepared to see him. When I’d gotten out of bed this morning, this hadn’t been in my plans—not in the least.
Lowering the sword and bracing myself, I stepped into the room.
3
MoretimesthanIcared to admit, I had imagined an encounter with Drevan.
Of course, it had never been under these circumstances. My silly, schoolgirl dreams had always included some sort of romantic setting where Drevan wore a stylish suit, very much like the one he’d worn the first time I saw him at Grand Central Station.
In my imaginings, he always appeared contrite and expectant—never shocked and disappointed as he looked now.
“Well, nice to see you too, Drevan,” I said, putting on a sardonic smile to hide the hurt his dissatisfied expression sparked in my heart.
“That. Little. Piece. Of. Shit,” he said, his words falling like hammer blows. “I told her not to…” He stopped and clenched his teeth so hard I heard them grind.
As he stood there, his arms held up by the chains, I watched him, the ache that had relentlessly kept my heart in its grip intensifying to a near-crippling level. He was more beautiful than I remembered. Even with the red welts that covered his torso and face, he was breathtaking.
His jet black hair lay in disarray, a strand cutting across his forehead as if he’d arranged it on purpose. A short beard peppered his strong jaw. I had never seen him anything but clean-shaven, but he looked damn sexy with it. His naked torso was strong, rippling with pec and ab muscles, and a sweet, sweet “V” that disappeared into his low-riding black pants. But it was his golden eyes that trapped me in their depths, promising to never let me go.
God, the level of his… hotness—my addled brain couldn’t come up with a better word—was simply intoxicating.
“You have to get out of here!” he said, his voice urgent, his eyes flicking toward the other side of the circular room where another arched entrance stood. “They will be back at any moment and they can’t find you here.”
I rolled my eyes. “Don’t be stupid. Now that I’m here, I’m not gonna just leave you to be tortured.” I stepped closer, staring at the thick, metal bands that bound his wrists. The strange symbols etched in them still glowed, just like they had when I’d seen them through Phenog’s mirage.
Stepping even closer to Drevan, I raised a hand toward one of the cuffs. Hellcuffs? Wasn’t that what Phenog had called them?
“Don’t! Don’t you dare touch those!” he hissed.
I jerked my hand back as if a snake had bitten it.
My gaze locked with his, and I realized how close to him I was standing. Barely a foot separated us, and as I stared into those golden eyes that I’d missed so much, my breath caught. Understanding washed over me. Coming here was a big mistake. Whatever I’d concocted during our imaginary meetings, it had never occurred to me that I would be like a fly caught in a sticky trap, helpless and at the mercy of my captor.
Drevan went utterly still, his eyes roving all over my face and lingering on my lips.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he whispered.
The warm air from his mouth caressed my face. His breath smelled sweet. Memories of shared kisses flashed before me, and I had to fight the impulse to throw my arms around his neck and tell him how glad I was to see him again.
Instead, I said, “I really had no choice. Phenog is an accomplished trickster. Besides, it does look like you need my help. What are those?” My eyes flicked toward his restraints.
“Hellcuffs. Only a weapon forged in heavenly fire can break them.”
“Good thing I have one of those.”
