Page 118 of Soulbound

Pressure points. He'd once thought love was a weakness, swiftly learning his mother would only ever use such a thing against him. A puppy. A childhood friend. A servant who was kind to him. He'd stopped letting the world in, stopped allowing himself to have such weaknesses.

Until now.

"Don't follow me," the demon suggested, holding the razor to Cleo's throat as it stepped back through the door. "And I won't harm her."

* * *

The carriage rattled as it made a sharp turn, a horse neighing loudly as the driver cracked the whip.

Cleo sat stiffly on the seat, not daring to take her eyes off the creature sitting opposite her. The sight of her husband's father only twisted the knife in her chest. He looked so much like Sebastian.

Sebastian. Oh, mercy. Heat swam behind her eyes. He wouldn't listen to her. He wouldn't destroy this monster. She knew it. He'd hand over everything it wanted, just to save her life.

If it hurt him....

"We meet again, Cassandra," the demon mused, resting its chin on its hand as it leaned against the carriage door and watched her. "You look well."

Look well? The bloody thing had held a knife to her throat. "Do you think this a game?" she rasped, gripping her skirts in fear.

Its lips twitched. "Of course it's a game. I'm trying to teach you a lesson. Who do you think is winning?"

Cleo stared at it. There was no sign of the menace it had exuded in Lady Beaumont's house. Indeed the expression it wore was similar to that of a long ago tutor, only... slightly more unblinking.

It leaned forward, resting its elbows on its knees. "You disappoint me. I thought you were ready to be instructed, but in some ways, you're still wearing your blindfold." It reached out and brushed its gloved fingertips down her face before she could flinch away. "Look deeper, Cassandra. Look beyond everything beneath your nose. Think about everything that's happened in the past twenty or so years."

There had to be a reason it picked that timeline. She swallowed hard. "Was it you?" An image of her father formed in her mind, drawing something into his body the night her mother conceived. "Or some other demon?"

"What do you think?"

Her mind began to race. She felt ill. The puzzle pieces fit together. "What do you want with me?" Not to play chess. No. There had to be something more.

"Now she begins to ask the important questions. Your father wanted a child of unimaginable gifts."

Children like Quentin Farshaw and the Travelers, and all those "miracle children" out there.

"He began to dabble with other planes and dimensions in his youth. He was obsessed with power, with knowledge. He hungered for the world, and he used his friend, Drake de Wynter, and the woman they both lusted after, Morgana, to create three relics that could control me. Me." It laughed. "But he did not know what he called into this world when he brought me forth. All others who have come before me were Lesser Demons, seeding their ilk in this world." It spread its arms wide. "And I am a prince of the Shadow Dimensions."

"Prince or not, that doesn't tell me why I'm so important."

"Did you know, I was going to go to all the trouble of having you kidnapped this afternoon, only for you to wander straight into my clutches."

"If you speak of destiny, or fate," she warned harshly, "I shall throw myself from this carriage."

"Destiny and fate are mere words." It snorted. "There is only intention. My intention. My game. You all waltz to my tune."

"Why did you want to kidnap me?" A shudder of unease filled her. It had always been a little too interested in her. "I doubt it was simply familial duty."

"Did you not want a father to love you?"

The blow struck her deep. "You're not my father."

"There are parts of me within you. I know you've felt them stirring."

She looked away.

"I wanted to take you off the game board momentarily," it said, as if bothered by her lack of reciprocation. "You had the Blade, you had the Wand and the Chalice... and you're the only one who can use them, apart from this body." It gestured to itself. "Drake is powerful enough, and skilled enough in astral projection to cross planes. But you walk them."

"That's why you went after Drake," she whispered, her nerves starting to light up. "It wasn't revenge for having raised you twenty-eight years ago. He's the only one who could defeat you." The implications staggered her. Drake had told her she was the only one who could use the Blade against him, but what did that mean? She'd thought he'd meant for her to kill him... but what if there was something more to all of this?