Page 46 of Demon with Benefits (Hell Bent #3)

LIVING DAYLIGHTS

T HE DEMON WATCHED WITH MILD INTEREST AS HIS MASTER approached the prey he’d just fed from. He wasn’t sure why he’d stopped or why his fear illusion had morphed into... whatever that was. He didn’t think much about such things—he was a creature of instinct.

He was darkness and emptiness. And hunger . He was always hungry. His entire existence consisted of endless, gnawing hunger, and feeding when he found something he could consume.

He did not eat flesh like another monster might. He ate fear, of both predator and prey alike. The more prideful the creature, the more it had to fear, and the more delicious it tasted to him.

But he always wanted more. When he had finished feeding on one victim, he would simply begin his search for another.

“You will pay for this,” the master snarled as he bent and affixed his claws around the prey’s slender neck. His head was bloody, his sleek fur matted with congealed brain matter.

“Meph!” The prey’s eyes sought the demon’s, as if she thought he would help her. What he really wanted to do was continue feeding from her.

“Silence!” the master boomed. “I will show you what it means to defy me, and when I’m through with you, you’ll wish you’d burned to death with your parents years ago. Their deaths were easy compared to what I’ll do to you.”

The demon had learned that his master liked to talk for the sake of hearing his own voice. He needed another in the room to justify it, but really, his speech was all for himself.

It was a mark of pride. And the fear of the prideful always tasted the best.

“I’m going to drain every drop of power from you and then take you apart piece by piece. I’ll do it in such a way that you survive until the end, so you feel everything. I’ll make you watch as I separate your limbs, joint by joint. I’ll laugh in your face when you beg for mercy.”

It seemed a waste of words for such a small, helpless prey. Why not just begin to feed? There was so much to consume, and there was so much hunger.

“Meph!” she cried. “I know you understand me. I know you know me.”

“I said silence , witch!”

The prey called him “Meph.” But wasn’t that the weak one’s name? He knew he had his own designation, but it was long and contained too many syllables for him to remember, and he didn’t care for it.

But he did remember her name.

The demon’s head cocked as the master tightened his punishing grip around the prey’s throat. He lifted her until her tiny feet kicked for purchase on the floor. Her green eyes were brimming with fear.

Fear. The demon was so hungry. He searched about the room and found nothing to eat except her.

Her and the master. But he did not feed from the master. The master supplied things for feeding, but he himself was not to be consumed.

It was a logical relationship. Why would he eat his provider? Then he would have to obtain sustenance by himself. The master deserved his obedience.

At least, that was what he told himself.

Yet somewhere inside, a part of him questioned things.

The master had inflicted great pain upon him, and he ought to have felt wrathful.

He certainly wouldn’t let another get away with such treatment.

But it had been so long, and there was always so much hunger clouding his thoughts that he could no longer discern the truth.

Still, he didn’t want the master to have this particular prey. He wanted it for himself.

The master began stalking away, the witch dangling in his grip, her struggles lessening in strength.

“ Isss. ”

She didn’t respond to him as she had the other times.

The demon followed as she was dragged toward the ritual chamber, oddly dissatisfied by her lack of response. The first times he’d made the name sound, her eyes had sparkled with excitement.

Gliding forward, he outpaced the master and blocked his path.

“Stand aside, Mephistopheles,” he growled. “This one is not for you. I have plans for her.”

The demon hissed.

The master reached into his coat, and the demon flinched. Without even seeing it, he knew what was coming.

“Move now.” With his free hand, the master pulled out the bullwhip. It unfurled at his side with a flick of his wrist. “You don’t want me to have to use this, do you?”

The demon shrank back. He didn’t like pain, and centuries of conditioning had taught him that the use of that whip equaled pain beyond measure. It wasn’t just the hellfire lashes it could deliver; it was the hours or even weeks of punishment that followed.

“Very good,” the master said calmly, lowering the whip. “Fear not, I’ll reward you with an ample feast later.”

But the demon wanted this prey, not another.

Unbidden, a recollection of his last fear illusion surfaced. He always saw what his prey saw, but it didn’t affect him beyond the satisfaction of the terror pouring off his victims in waves.

But this vision was different. There had been no fear.

You make me a better person. You might think you’re some dark, demented beast, but to me, you’re a ray of goddamn sunshine.

The weak one had stirred at those words, fighting to rise from his confinement. It was easy to keep him contained—he was soft and vulnerable and full of fears—but something about that gave him strength.

I need you, Meph. I can’t do this alone anymore.

The demon watched as the master began dragging the prey down the passage again, her slender form so vulnerable against his powerful one as she struggled in vain. Any second, they were going to disappear around the corner, and she would be gone.

Listen up, you dumb-fuck motherfucker.

The voice came from nowhere.

Val is dragging our witch away to do fuck knows what with, and you’re just standing there drooling like a dipshit. Get off your ass and go get her!

The demon stiffened. He spun his head around in all directions, searching for the source of the voice, only to realize it had come from within him.

The weak one. The weak one had... spoken. Somehow, he’d pried open the bars of his inner cage enough to shout across the abyss that separated their psyches. Such a thing had never happened before.

What are you waiting for? And stop calling me “the weak one.” If either one of us is weak, it’s your indecisive ass. Now move!

What an irksome voice. The demon wasn’t sure he cared for this development.

Yeah, I’m not thrilled either. Hearing your caveman thoughts— me hungry, me eat —gets old fast. But I’m not kidding right now. You need to go get Iris or Val is going to kill her.

There was a note of panic in his cerebral voice.

Come on . If you do this, you can eat Val. Think of how good he’d taste, how much fear that fucker has. The guy is so ambitious, he’s practically bursting with it.

The demon thought of that often, in fact. But the master was not for eating—

Why the hell not? Because he has a puny whip? Since when are you scared of a little flogging? That shit’s like foreplay to you, you creepy fuck.

But the whip was not the only punishment that followed disobedience. There was the—

Trust me, I haven’t forgotten about all that. But if you eat Val and escape with Iris, then he can’t do shit to you, can he?

The demon stilled as he considered this.

It was... true. If he ate the master and took the prey, he could have the prey to himself and escape punishment.

He would take the prey to the mountain caves and consume her fear over and over again.

He wouldn’t kill her. He would leave her alive and let her regenerate so he could feast again and again—

Okay, we’re gonna have to talk about that plan more later, but for now, can we just get on with the “eat the master” thing? We’re running out of time.

The master had disappeared around the far corner, taking the prey with him. The demon couldn’t see her anymore, and he didn’t like it.

The weak one spoke true. There was no time left to waste.

Iris fought for consciousness. This was her last chance. If she gave in and passed out now, she was doomed. Unfortunately, she was so close to fading away, she was flopping like a ragdoll as Valefor dragged her behind him by the hand on her throat.

Her fragile body had taken a serious beating—one strike from Valefor would be enough to kill a human, and she had endured several—and when she thought about the shape she was in, her heart fluttered with panic.

But she couldn’t give up now.

She forced her eyes open, not really sure what she was planning—

And saw Meph peeking his head around the corner again, watching her like he had before.

Hope rose like a flash flood. If he fed from her again when she was this weak, she wouldn’t make it, but she didn’t care. She’d rather die feeding Meph than giving her power to Valefor.

“Meph...” Her voice came out a hoarse croak, so feeble she didn’t think Valefor even heard it. She tried to meet Meph’s gaze, but every time she blinked, it felt like an eternity before her eyes opened again.

The next time she forced them wide, Meph’s face was inches away.

“ Sss ,” he said.

Valefor heard that—he stopped and whirled around. “I told you to stand aside. Stay here and do not follow. Don’t make me use the whip.”

Was that a tremor in his voice?

“ SSSS. ”

Valefor stiffened and dropped Iris. Gathering her waning strength, she scrambled toward Meph as Valefor reached into his coat and pulled out the whip again.

Obviously, he’d spent a long time conditioning Meph to be afraid of it, because Meph flinched visibly. There was something so wrong about seeing a monster that terrifying recoil at the sight of a measly whip. She wanted to cave Valefor’s skull in again for doing that to him.

Valefor stepped back and snapped the whip. Hellfire crackled along the length as it connected, and Meph screeched. Even in her weakened state, she cringed from the volume of it, shrinking back against the stone wall to keep out of the deadly weapon’s path.

Okay, so maybe it’s not just a “measly” whip. It was still conditioning, though, and she knew Meph could fight it.

Valefor snapped the whip again, and again, Meph screeched.

This time, he didn’t stop.

The sound went on and on. On the ground near the base of Meph’s shadowy cloak, Iris slapped her palms over her ears.

It was like a thousand fingernails running over chalkboards simultaneously.

It was the most horrid sound she’d ever heard, and she was pretty sure when he finished, there’d be blood running out of her ears.

Valefor was shouting for obedience over Meph’s din, stepping backward and snapping the whip, but Meph was past listening. He scuttled toward his former master on shadowy spider legs, or maybe he just floated. However he moved, it was eerie and promised death.

Valefor’s speech turned pleading as he retreated another step. “Now, now, calm yourself. You can have her after I perform the ritual, how about that? I won’t kill her, I’ll only take what I need, and then I’ll—”

He cut off with a choke. Meph’s racket stopped, and everything went quiet.

Meph’s claws were wrapped around Valefor’s throat.

Valefor struggled, trying to break free from that skeletal grip. Twisting violently, he stumbled into the wall, Meph moving with him, only a few feet away from where Iris huddled on the floor.

Suddenly, the fight seemed to drain from him. He shrank back against the stone, and his powerful, animalistic form seemed to go rigid. Iris watched as Meph leaned in, exposing his skull-like face from beneath his hood. His red eyes glowed. His horrific mouth parted, and his long tongue rolled out.

And then it was Valefor’s turn to scream.

It was a scream of abject terror. It was bone-chilling. Bloodcurdling. Iris curled into a ball and covered her ears once more. She was pretty sure she was screaming too—anything to drown out that terrible sound—but she still couldn’t hear a thing over the soul-splitting howl.

And then silence fell.

It was so abrupt, it felt almost as loud as the screaming. Slowly, heart slamming against her ribcage, she cracked her eyes open and lowered her hands. She turned her head and looked up—

Into red orbs in a skeletal face with a tongue so long it could double as a noose.

“M-Meph?”

He bent all the way down to her level, his empty stare quizzical as he studied her. “ Isss. ”

“Yeah, it’s me.” Her whole body was shaking with residual terror and numerous life-threatening injuries, but she’d never been more grateful to see such a frightful sight. “You did it. You saved me.”

His head cocked, and then he stretched out one of those bony fingers and lightly brushed her cheek. His touch was ice-cold and sent a shiver worming down her spine, but he didn’t hurt her.

The fear coursing through her blood suddenly warmed into fondness.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

He watched her intently, as if studying the prize he’d claimed and waiting to see what it would do. She wanted to say something, to ask him to help her, to take her back to Earth, but her tongue was like a lead weight in her mouth, and she couldn’t seem to control it enough to speak.

Now that the immediate danger had passed, her strength was leaking out like water through a punctured vessel. She closed her eyes, willing the spinning to stop, but she was starting to realize it might be too much to ask.

“ Isss ,” he said.

She made a humming sound in agreement, and it was the last thing she knew before she finally, mercifully slipped into unconsciousness.