“She doesn’t need you,” I reply tightly through gritted teeth.
The fucker snickers. “I saw how bravely you tried to give her what she asked. That file was certainly fancy work.”
Heat washes up into my cheeks, but I refuse to break eye contact. “Not all of us are born in hell and possess powers to destroy people with our minds. Some of us have to actually get our hands dirty.”
“Yet, you have done nothing while I have given her, her four satisfying deaths. Perhaps, you should consider freeing her of yourself now before you embarrass yourself further.”
I loathe him.
I loathe his very existence in Lenora’s life.
I loathe that I know she will never listen to me if I ask her to banish this monster from our lives.
And I don’t blame her.
The human solution to this problem would have taken months of planning. Years of execution. I would have to guide and directeach disappearance carefully so the police and the Duval family never suspect me.
His way is faster.
It is cleaner.
At least with Sarai, her death would never be mistaken for murder. Yes, the authorities may suspect me, but there is no evidence of that. So, perhaps his method is better in these circumstances, but I would eat my own foot before admitting it to him.
“And leave her alone with you after what you did last night?” I say instead, grasping the only thread of defense I have.
“What did I do?” he counters. “She was never in any harm. If I sensed for even a second that she was no longer enjoying herself, I would have stopped you. It would have ended.”
The oddly human response irks me because he’s not human. He’s a monster who uses people and manipulates those in a vulnerable place.
“You’re a disease,” I tell him honestly. “You latch onto grieving people and manipulate them into giving you their soul … for what? What are you going to do with it?”
“What I do is give closure. I offer them peace. You’re upset because she came to you first and you couldn’t fix her problem.”
I open my mouth to tell him he was wrong when a soft knock echoes over the roar of the water running and my own blood slamming between my ears.
“Marcus?”
I shove Veyn in the direction of the mirror he’d come through. I don’t entirely know why. Maybe I don’t want Lenora to see us conversing without her, about her.
“One second,mon p’tit.”
The demon is gone when I glance back at him. His absence fills me with mild relief as I reach for the knob and twist the door open.
Lenora peers up at me, standing fully nude on the threshold. Her dark mane falls in tangled coils down her slender spine and … and her belly is a swollen bump. Not drastic. But enough that it is definitely noticeable.
“How much cum did you put in me?”
I think she’s teasing, but she seems as panicked as I feel. I can’t look away. Can’t stop staring at the biggest impossibility…
Okay, maybe it’s not the craziest thing I’ve seen since Veyn slithered his way into our lives, but … this?
“Maybe you just need the washroom,” I offer stupidly because people didn’t get pregnant overnight.
Okay, yes, they did, but not where they visibly show the next morning.
I stay with her, remaining steadfast and calm when she uses the washroom and the bump remains. I still don’t voice my worries out loud when helping her into the tub with me, setting her between the V of my thighs and sitting to work lathering her hair.
“What if I am?” she asks after several long moments of silence. “Pregnant,” she adds, like I might misunderstand her.
