CHAPTER 32
VIXEN
In Church, Malcolm droned on about how good the Blood Demons were. They sounded like some sort of vigilantes for the supernatural. Even the devil’s rejects had rules and those who broke them. The Blood Demons took care of those. Whatever that meant.
He showed me the arsenal, and passionately explained about each weapon and how it was forged to defeat a certain monster. He bragged about the medallion he wore like it was a piece of exquisite art. It seemed to have enclosed a blade of a special metal that killed both vampires and shifters.
I didn’t care. All I cared about was my brother. I needed to get him out of here.
Slasher might have saved Malcolm from death, gave him his life back—a life back—and I was thankful. Perhaps vampires weren’t the most awful horror creature depicted in reality. I meant, Malcolm kept swearing he didn’t kill humans for blood and had the tendencies to do so under control. So, if that was the case, and I had to choose between dead Malcolm or vampire Malcolm, I’d choose the option that let me see my brother breathing. Well…not technically…
Fuck it.
The whole situation was a lot to grasp. Yet it explained a lot. The lifeless eyes. The cold skin. The violence. The state of his body in sleep that almost gave me a heart attack.
It didn’t ease my mind regarding the most important question about Slasher, though. He was having hallucinations that involved killing Malcolm. Being a vampire didn’t negate personality disorders. Slasher could still be a schizophrenic bloodsucker.
However, applying the new data I’d received about the universe today could result in different hypotheses. “You weren’t concerned when I told you about Slasher. You only wanted to know what exactly he’d said. Then you spoke of the devil in a weird fashion, suggesting Slasher was possessed. Does that mean you have witnessed a demonic possession before?”
He scratched his Mohawk. “Wow. You sound like you’re writing a second dissertation. I’m fucking surprised you got over the whole thing in less than an hour, Reindeer.”
Reindeer suddenly had a completely different connotation to it after what I’d witnessed. I’d never receive that nickname the same way ever again. “I’m not, but I have to think in that way so I wouldn’t go insane. Answer me please.”
“Well, it’s not exactly the kind of possession you see in horror movies, the kind that needs an exorcism. It’s simpler. The devil or demon goes into your head, tell you things or make you do or believe shit. They fuck with your head…like they’re supposed to do. You know? Biblically.”
I grimaced, looking away for a second. “Inferno can do that?”
“Yes. He’s the devil’s bastard.”
“Thedevil?”
“Yes. Why are you asking about Inferno?”
I bit my lip. “He’s the only demon I’ve come in direct contact with.” Too close of a contact. Oh my God. I was seduced by a demon, and I’d let him give me head.I’m so going to hell.
“Umm…” He shook his head and snorted.
“What?” I asked cautiously.
“He’s not the only demon you’ve met.”
“Who else? Is it Russell? Oh my God. It is Russell.”
“No.”
Damn it. I really wished it had been that asshole. “Then who is it?”
His face contorted, and then a long sigh seeped out of him.
“I literally couldn’t be surprised anymore today, Malcolm.”
“Pattison.”
“Professor Pattison? What about him?”
“He…is the devil.”
My lashes fluttered. Now that had me dazed. “Okay. I take my last statement back.” I put my hand over my mouth, my skin tingling painfully.
