And he was terrifying.
Aamon’s eyes fell on me again, this time with a hatred so clear I found myself backing away from him. “You’ve clearly spent too much time with the blood in your cock instead of your head if you think you can get away with speaking to me like that. Maybe I’ll take your little pet for a ride. I promise to leave you the scraps when I am done.”
Thallor began to morph, dark tendrils of fury taking hold of his body, as he pulled me further away from his brother, his grip tightening to the point where I was sure he would draw blood.
“You never were very good at sharing. But it’s not your choice, though, is it? Would you like that, human? Want me to show you what being fucked by a demon should really feel like?”
“Speak to her again and I’ll hang you from these rafters by your own entrails,” Thallor snarled.
Aamon’s laugh echoed through the church again. The sound was cold and shrill and laced with a chilling sense of disgust. It was as if every escape of breath was meant to convey his utter disdain for everything and everyone around him. “I grow tired of this. Let’s have some fun, shall we, brother?”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Aamon approached Lester and Caldwell, with slow, precise footsteps, kicking blood-soaked corpses out of his way with casual disdain as he moved. The sound of his footsteps and the smattering of wet, warm liquid continued to turn my stomach over in knots. The men before him cowered in fear, as they rightfully should. How quickly the power-hungry fall in the face of true strength. Aamon disgusted me, but them? I hated them and their insatiable need for power. I hated the way they had misled this group of people that now lay dead all around us.
Aamon dropped his gaze toward them, cocking his head to the side with an air of indifference. I wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but I knew what he would find.Two dirty souls.I wasn’t sure why he sneered at them, though. This was the behaviour that he sought out. Relished in. Yet something about the two men before him seemed to sour his stomach just as much as he soured mine. He looked down at them for a long moment, taking in the trembling forms.
“Pathetic,” he muttered. “Tell me what it is you want.”
Lester stammered, struggling to find his words. “P…p…power,” he managed, glancing at Caldwell, who nodded weakly in agreement.
Aamon raised an eyebrow, his lip curling slightly. “And what is it that I gain in return for this power you so desperately seek?”
The two men exchanged nervous glances as they surveyed the room of dead bodies. It seemed like there was no end to his desire to cause hell. What did he want? What more could he possibly want?More lives to add to the pile? More souls to see rot away?
Lester trembled before pointing a shaky hand toward Isaac and Esme, who were still clutching each other nearby.No. NO.Aamon’s eyes traced my two friends with painstaking slowness before turning his attention back to the two men on their knees in front of him.
“Does this please you, your holiness?”
Aamon’s eyes flickered back to the two men. A wave of deep-set anger flashed across his face before being replaced by something else more akin to amusement. He paused, mulling over a range of things I couldn’t see behind the eyes. I could see my worst nightmares come to life as the cruel smile tore across the demon’s face.
“Very well. Kill them both.”
Caldwell and Lester moved toward them, knives dripping red and shining in the dull light of the church. Isaac tried to pull Esme away, leaving trails of streaking blood in his wake before Caldwell grabbed Esme, dragging her away by her hair. Lester was upon Isaac and pushing a knife toward his throat before I’d had a chance to blink, more beads of sanguine liquid forming below his jaw.
“PLEASE! PLEASE!” Esme screamed, a sound so piercing, so deafening, I could barely think straight.Focus, Quincey, focus.I knew that if I didn’t move now, I never would.
Another scream reverberated through the space as Caldwellpulled Esme’s head back by her long, now blood-stained hair. “QUINCEY!” she screams, and for the first time in my life, I never hated my name more. Isaac looked at me with a pained, scared expression.
“The book,” Thallor commanded, as he felt me shift under the weight of his grip. “It’s the only way.”
“Okay,” I said quietly, looking at him for what might have been the last time.Stay safe,his eyes begged as he looked down at me. And before I could even process it, I ripped away from Thallor’s grip.I love you.It’s all I could think as I careened down the rest of the aisle, my legs screaming as I raced forward as quickly as my body would carry me. My stomach was in my chest, and I could feel my heart beating at the back of my throat. I didn’t dare look back at Thallor. I couldn’t bear to see the panic I was sure was etched across his face.
Every good memory of Isaac and Esme and Thallor flashed before me as I propelled down the aisle. Every reason why I would do this a million times over. I latched onto those memories like a shining light, storming into the darkness, diving forward.
I landed in the pool of blood as my hand found the teal book–one I wasn’t sure was my salvation or damnation. My fingers trembled as I picked up the worn cover, not splattered with blood. “Thallor, I wish you were free of this tether. Of this book. I wish you didn’t have to carry this burden any longer.”
Power surged across the room, knocking me backward into the cool, hard stairs below the altar. The little semblance of light in the church disappeared, leaving nothing but an ice-cold chill and an air so thick, I had to physically claw at my throat under the weight of it. I knew the bonds holding Thallor to the book had broken the moment the atmosphere changed.
For only a moment, I saw the awe etched across Thallor’s face. That awe quickly evolved into something more angry,more terrifying. I scrambled backward as Lester and Caldwell began to write in pain, consumed by black flames, their bodies convulsing as the rest of us stared at them in shock. The smell of death, worse than before, leaked into the space as the acrid smell of charred remains joined the sour metallic smell of severed flesh.
Esme and Isaac crawled toward me as I looked around wildly for Thallor. Before relief could strike at the adrenaline still coursing through my body, a piercing laugh cut through the space.I hate that sound. I hate that sound.
Cruel. Guttural. Harsh. It cut at me from the inside, leaving my soul to bleed invisible blood. It filled every corner of the room. Rattling against the walls and hitting me from all sides. I froze as it became louder, harsher. More manic. I scrambled backward, heart hammering in my chest as Aamon approached; red eyes boring into me with a look of cruel amusement and mild disdain.
I hate you. I hate you.I clung to those words like a mantra.
“Falling in love,” he drawled as though unimpressed by my very existence. “You are nothing but a cliché.”
