Page 27 of Unfettered Demon

I stare at the sodden grass at my feet. How can I be both enraged and gleeful at Ned spitting on Theo? With a struggle, I pull my attention back to the vampire. Is he saying he was betrayed too?

Ned blushes slightly at my silent question and takes another long drag of his cigarette. “Come on, vampire here. Oldest story in the book. My maker didn’t ask for my consent. Blah, blah. Angst, angst. I won’t bore you with the details.”

Hearing the details sounds fascinating, but he clearly doesn’t want to talk about it. The air around us is clouding with his pain and fear.

I reach out and pat him on the shoulder. This is how people comfort one another, isn’t it?

The vampire grins at my efforts and pulls a small black and shiny rectangle out of his pocket. He has a phone like Mal’s? How common are these strange devices?

“Shall we find out how Theodore died?” asks Ned.

I nod. Does his phone really have the power to do that?

Ned squints up at the gravestone and then taps at his phone. He falls silent for a few minutes.

“Found it! He was shot in the head while staying in a fancy hotel. Doesn’t look like they ever found who did it.” The vampire looks up at me. “My guess is he got paid for selling you out and then eliminated as a loose end.”

My gaze tracks forlornly over the headstone once again. Despite everything, I hate the thought of Theo being murdered. I don’t want to think about his pretty blond head covered in blood. I hope it was quick, at the end. And he didn’t suffer. Unlike me.

Suddenly, Ned whacks me on the back, hard enough to make me stagger forward a step.

“He didn’t get to enjoy his spoils!” says the vampire gleefully.

“Doesn’t sound like he had any regrets either,” I hear myself saying, and I sound so forlorn. Theo always did yearn for the finer things in life. A fancy hotel is just like him.

Ned squeezes my shoulder reassuringly. “Did he live for long after betraying you?”

I look at the date carved under Theo’s name. What is the last year I remember? An image of a cozy Christmas flashes before me, quickly followed by slow dancing with Theo in our sitting room as the sounds of a new year’s eve celebration drift through the walls.

“Not even a year. I think,” I whisper.

I think I’m crying again, but with all this rain it is hard to tell. At least Ned won’t know how pathetic I’m being.

I sense Mal’s presence approaching. I can’t see or hear him yet. The urge to hide behind Ned or the gravestone is as strong as it is ridiculous.

“Is Mal treating you well?” asks Ned with a flash of anger in his eyes.

What do I say? If I say no, would Ned defend me? I barely remember the vampire, but he seems to be fond of me, even if it is only a sense of camaraderie from being imprisoned together.

What if he tries to help me and Mal hurts him?

Or perhaps this is a test, and he is truly Mal’s friend, and I need to say the right thing.

And then, to add to the confusion. What is the truth? Does Mal treat me well? I think so. But I know my perception is skewered, my reality uncalibrated. He scares me sometimes. But I’m scared of everyone and everything. He controls me, but I can’t control myself. Part of me yearns to be free. Another part of me wants nothing more than to surrender to Mal, give up all responsibility and just be his.

Ned’s question is too hard to answer.

Mal comes into view. Striding between the headstones, heading straight towards me. His silver hair is slicked back with rain. His long dark coat is flowing out behind him. His tight trousers hide no part of his muscular thighs. The sight of him takes my breath away.

He is in front of me in an instant. His hands reach out and suddenly I’m being squished against his broad chest in a punishing embrace. His scent floods my senses. His warmth seeps into my chilled flesh.

“Thank fuck you are okay,” he growls.

I can’t find his rage. I can only sense immense relief. Along with some regret. And a whole heap of warm emotion that is flowing out of him and into me. If I didn’t know better, I’d think it was love. But Theo taught me that I do not have a clue what that emotion feels like.

Whatever Mal is feeling, I like it. It feels nice. I press myself closer to him and wrap my arms around‌ his body and lose myself to the feel of him.

“Let’s get you home, Little One,” he rumbles gently.