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CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

I can’t see a thing; both my mind and body feel like they’re being stretched. I’m being pulled out in a million different directions all at once as I’m spun around and thrown through frictionless air. The only thing that feels steady is the tight grip on my shoulder.

He used the dimensional tunnelling technique—just fucking great.

The effects of teleportation vary greatly depending on the type of magic being used and the species of those being transported. For species such as demons and fae, the side effects of this particular form are negligible, while shapeshifters are meant to have the worst reactions to it. Regardless of the type of teleportation used, shifters generally experience discomfort and nausea, followed by losing consciousness almost immediately after arrival. Not to mention the intense resulting headache and ringing ears for hours once they wake.

When it comes to dimensional tunnelling, witches are said to fall somewhere between the extremes. A small amount of dizziness and nausea, maybe a slight headache after. Though if this is supposedly a little nausea, I feel bad for any shifters who’ve been through it.

Reaching our mystery destination feels like breaking through a water’s surface, yet somehow landing on my feet. Very unsteadily, in my case. As the hand releases my shoulder, I fumble blindly for a surface to keep myself upright, my eyes not adjusted to wherever we are yet. The light is far too bright after being in a total absence of it.

Shit. I’m not sure if I am about to fall over from the dizziness or vomit…

The nausea wins out. I bend over, throwing up all over the stupid demon’s shiny shoes. Well, now they’re not so shiny anymore. I sigh. What a waste of perfectly good fries.

“I forget how weak the constitutions of lesser species can be,” Paimon says, blatantly disgusted as he sneers down at the mess covering his feet and the surrounding floor. “No matter, your ability to hold your stomach will improve as you do.”

Before I can ask what the hell it is he means by that, I’m distracted by the quick use of a spell to clean up the vomit. While there are some spells I know for cleaning, they focus more on disinfecting things, like the tools I use for my potion making. I still have to wash them normally first unless I want to go through the effort of levitating everything, controlling the entire process mentally. At that point, it takes less energy to use my own hands. Of course, this asshole demon happens to know a cheat spell for the whole task, like he would ever degrade his person by cleaning anything himself. A few words, and two seconds later— poof, the whole mess is gone. The universe is a criminally unfair place.

“Have you noticed any physical changes yet? Any sign of horns growing in?” the demon asks curiously, narrowing his eyes as he scans them over me. Well shit, that confirms beyond any doubt he knows about the demon baby.

I’d be more irritated at the casual way he’s addressing me, acting as if he didn’t just abduct me off the street and cart me off to who knows where, but… “Horns?” I question, hands immediately going to my head, feeling around my temples and through my hair for any sign of them.

No one said anything about growing fucking horns…

“Hmm.” He hums lowly to himself, a scrutinising expression on his face as he seems to finish his visual inspection of me. “No matter, I’m sure they will appear as you progress. Though, it would have made the acceleration easier on you if they’d already broken skin.”

“Acceleration?” I demand, worried I already have a pretty good guess as to what it is he intends to accelerate. It sounds like a terrible idea, as if three months isn’t an insanely sped-up pregnancy timeline as it is!

“Nothing you need to concern yourself with now. The preparations for the ritual aren’t quite complete, but with Ashtaroth returning to your side, I decided continuing to wait patiently simply wouldn’t do.” He pauses, as if contemplating whether or not to continue explaining, before adding, “Demons possess a unique ability when it comes to bonding to their children, and it would be bothersome to have to untether his bond with them before establishing my own.”

He wants to fucking what?

“I won’t let you take this baby,” I hiss, backing away from the demon as one of my arms wraps over my middle. I hit the wall behind me, and panic surges through my body as I finally take in the space I’ve been brought to. A room with no windows or doors, all of the walls covered in magical runes. There’s a bed on one side of the space and a not-at-all private bathroom area on the other.

It’s an inescapable magic cell. Just fucking great.

“In that you have no choice,” Paimon replies calmly, speaking in a way not dissimilar to how someone would explain an immutable fact to a confused child. It’s beyond infuriating.

“How fucking dare you! You’re high on fairy crack if you think you have any right!” Without thinking, I feel myself reaching for the energy coiled inside of me. I pull as much of it as I can in two seconds, then throw my hands out as I toss it at him, undirected into any spell.

The bastard bats it away like it’s nothing.

“You’ll have to try harder than that,” he scoffs, waving a hand back at me, sending me pressed flat against the wall, my hands pinned either side of my head by an invisible force. “I had hoped you would be more reasonable. I should have known from our first meeting that your impertinent nature would prove troublesome.”

Impertinent nature? Troublesome?

“You kidnapped me, you freaking lunatic, but I’m the one that’s troublesome? You’re out of your fucking mind…”

“Hardly,” he scoffs, dismissing my words as if I’m nothing.

Oh, when this bastard releases me, I’m going straight for those stupid, yellow-slitted eyes of his. I’ll gouge them right out of his head with my nails if I have to. I’ll scratch up that stupid pretty face and make it just as ugly as he is on the inside. He is going to fucking regret even thinking of trying to steal my child and every ridiculous, completely insane thing he’s said in the process.

“I’m going to kill you,” I reply through gritted teeth. Probably unwise to inform him of my plans. Then again, it’s not as if he can’t already tell what I’m thinking from my face. I’m sure he’s getting the full effect of the Eden death stare right now.

“You can try, but what good will it do your child? You should think carefully about what you say or do next, Eden Cross. You could still live to play a part in their life…” he trails off, like he’s dangling the opportunity of raising my own damn child over me as he steps closer, until he’s right in front of me, and there’s nothing I can do to get away. “But I cannot and will not allow you to poison them against me. I have waited too long for anoth—an opportunity like this. Demon children are so rare as it is, let alone a hybrid child. All of the power, and none of the weaknesses. It’s truly a marvel such a being could come from the union between a demon and a lesser species.”

Paimon places his hand on my stomach, and if I could move more than my mouth and eyes, I’d bite the damn thing off. He must see it in my eyes, amusement sparkling in his own as he laughs and steps away. Every muscle in my body is on fire with the need to fight him. To rip the skin from his body. To carve that stupid ass smile off his face with a fucking blade. “The child is well. You should get some rest now while you can.”

“Screw you,” I snark, showing him the teeth I’m going to use to rip his fucking throat out with. I’ll burn this fucking planet to ashes before I let anyone take my child from me. Every breath I take forces my chest to strain with the effort.

“How flattering,” he replies, voice dripping with sarcasm, though it turns almost contemplative as he continues, “However, perhaps we should simply start with this child before adding more?” His words send disgust coursing through my veins. Repulsive sack of ass.

“I’d rather die than go anywhere near you.” I’d also rather set him on fire and watch him slowly melt. I’ve never felt fury like this before. I will protect this baby with my life, but more than that, I won’t allow them to suffer the fate this demonic cunt is promising us.

“We will see how you feel once you get hungry. I believe that is a change you’ve experienced at this stage? The increased likelihood of being able to add another, one of my own line , is a possible benefit to the first child’s sire being an incubus, I suppose.”

I hate that I can’t seem to string together a retort. His words are sending my mind into a spiralling panic because none of what he’s said or the implications of it sound good. Not for me. Shit. Goddess, please, if I can’t find a way to escape, let the guys manage the impossible and rescue me from this hell. I’ll even let Rio call me a damsel in distress forever if it means getting me the fuck away from this creep. And preferably sooner rather than later…

Paimon keeps me held in place as he turns and walks over to the other side of the room. He pauses at the wall, releasing me before lifting his hand to hover over the rune painted there for a moment. I slump a little, still leaning against the wall I’m no longer stuck to, tensing when he lowers his hand back to his side, apparently not quite ready to leave. My body feels oddly limp, like I’m a puppet with their strings cut.

After a long and tense moment, he speaks without turning around to face me again, quietly offering, “You know, I once had a child. A hybrid much like the one you carry inside of you now.”

He what?

“Cool, but I don’t give a shit about your sob story,” I quickly lie. Curiosity is a curse sometimes, but it’s not as if there’s anything he can possibly say that will make me less furious about this situation, so I’m hardly going to show an interest. It doesn’t matter how intriguing what he said is. “Losing your child doesn’t mean you can steal mine.”

“Foolish witch, I could and would take them regardless of my loss,” he replies, turning back to glare down at me scoldingly like I’m some sort of petulant child. I remain still, picturing his death in my mind, as he continues. “I have no need nor desire for your sympathy, witch. I simply thought you may find it interesting. It’s not as if you have anything better to do.”

“If you’re so concerned about me getting bored, you could always let me out of here?” I suggest sarcastically, fully aware he won’t be letting me go anywhere. I’m well and truly trapped in this cell with an invisible fucking door. The only way I can see out of here is through activating the right rune while using teleportation. How the hell am I supposed to escape or be rescued when I’m surrounded by walls and magic? I’m practically sealed in a damn fucking box.

“As I already informed you, I won’t allow any risks to the child’s wellbeing or to my ability to bond them to me.”

“They’re not in any danger from anyone but you!” I snap, seething inside. A part of me still wants to lunge for his fucking throat like an animal, knowing the danger he poses. It’s also that danger which holds me back, Torrin’s words coming to my mind in a painful reminder of my position here.

‘I wouldn’t count on us winning.’

He hadn’t even been sure all three of the hunters could take him on, and that’s when they’re prepared and working together. So what chance do I really stand when I’m pregnant and alone? Stuck in an unfamiliar location and at a demon king’s fucking mercy for my continued survival. He batted off my magic like it was nothing. I feel like a fucking fly would have proved more irritating to him than I had.

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” Paimon replies calmly after a moment, completely ignoring my raised voice. Though, I suppose my anger isn’t very concerning to the Lord of fucking Wrath. “I wasn’t only keeping an eye on you to track your progress or to see if the sire would reveal themselves. I was also watching to ensure others of your kind didn’t discover your condition. It was a witch who killed my son, after all.”

A witch killed his kid?

Great. I wonder how much that has to do with his blatant hatred for us ‘lesser beings.’

“I wouldn’t let anyone hurt them.” That includes you, asshole. I add the last part silently, temporarily swallowing down my rage in order to keep him talking as I realise it’s not just satisfying my curiosity that’s at stake here. Knowing everything I can about this demon and his motivations could help me figure a way out of this mess. Maybe I can’t physically tear him to pieces or hex him into a frog and throw him into a pot of boiling water, but I can learn his weaknesses. Maybe I can even convince him of my sympathy, to the point he won’t see the knife coming for his throat until it cuts his skin.

“That’s most reassuring to hear, considering the witch who murdered my son was his own mother.”

“You’re lying,” I blurt, the shock of what he said temporarily overriding my brain and doing little to help in my newly concocted plan. How could…how could someone in my situation do that? He’s trying to say what, that she waited for the baby to be born and then just…killed them? Murdered a newborn fucking baby? He has to be making this up.

“I wish I was.”

I really hate the raw honesty I hear in those four fucking words. There’s none of his usual demeanour in his voice, none of the formal airs or derision for his perceived lessors. It’s just…devastation. It’s so unusual that it should feel fake. It shouldn’t ring like the truth right down to my soul, but it does. It’s like a stab to the fucking gut as I’m forced to consider the possibility he’s actually telling the truth.

It doesn’t change the fact he obviously shouldn’t be allowed anywhere near a child, not even his own, but for the mother to do that...why would she? How could she? Is that why Ash was so quick to offer —no! I recoil from the thought as if I’m mentally slamming a book shut and throwing it right at the nearest wall. He wouldn’t think I would do that. As little time as we’ve been able to spend together, he has to know I could never hurt our baby.

“I’m glad you appear to have some maternal instincts,” Paimon says, apparently deciding to take my silence as an opportunity to continue. “Hopefully, should you choose to behave and live, you won’t fail to care for them as she did. That she was unable to stomach what she saw as an abomination for even five years…”

He can’t possibly mean what I think he does. Absolutely not.

“When I finally found her, she gloated over how she took my child away from me. She went on about the relief she felt once he was gone and how she wished she’d found the strength to end his life sooner. I foolishly hoped it was a lie, that she was simply hiding him from me. She told me to feel the space with my power to see it for myself, and so I did.”

I wrap both of my arms around my middle, exhaustion and horror sending my back sliding down the wall behind me till I’m sitting on the floor. I drag my knees up as close as I can to my chest while I breathe deeply, trying desperately to get a hold on my emotions. Other people’s experiences don’t usually hit me this hard. The similarity of our situations, along with the addition of pregnancy hormones, must be what’s making this so difficult to hear.

I wish it was the end of the story, but Paimon just keeps on talking. It’s almost as if a dam has been broken, and now there’s nothing to hold it all back. Has he ever spoken about this since it happened until now? Or is it all a preplanned attempt at emotional manipulation?

“Once I confirmed the past presence of a child’s demonic energy in the home and then the undeniable flicker of it being snuffed out, she still continued. She told me in detail how she hated his face. That she was repulsed by his true demonic eyes whenever he failed to hide them. She complained how everything would die around them, more sympathy for insignificant plants and bugs than for her own blood!”

I hear something break, but I keep staring at my knees. One part of my head is wondering what the fuck was wrong with this woman, and the other’s wondering what horrific shit Paimon must have done to make her that way. Not that anything could justify taking out pain and anger on a literal child, but maybe she wasn’t in her right mind. Either way, it’s a fucking tragedy. All of the threats I’ve been worrying about, and I’ve never once considered myself one of them.

“She loathed the powers my child gave to her as she carried him. She felt they made her an abomination, too. The ungrateful wench. She was made better, given an opportunity she should have felt thankful for!” Paimon rages, his anger seeming to unshackle him from his cold-mannered self-control.

It’s terrifying. He may want my baby, but what if he loses it and accidentally kills the both of us right now?

“I’m sorry,” I tell him, only half-lying as my heart truly hurts for the child who surely suffered far too much in his short existence.

I’m surprised when my words seem to have the desired effect. The ranting stops, and nothing else in the room breaks. After a few tense moments of waiting for him to continue, or even for a response of some kind, I glance up, finding him gone instead.

The sink in the bathroom section of the room is badly cracked, and there are indentations of what looks like claw marks scratching right across the wall, but I’m all alone in my little prison now and feeling far better for it. As if protesting the thought, I feel a sudden swishing sensation in my stomach. I choke on a mixture of a sob and a laugh at the feeling before the tears start falling down my cheeks like a river, my own personal dam burst open.

Correction, I’m not entirely alone.

It takes an embarrassingly long time to calm down, for the floodgates to shut and my breathing to finally steady. We’re still trapped, being held hostage by a psychotic demon lord, but at least we’re both alive and unharmed…for now.