Page 15 of Wicked (Dark Delights #5)

Isaac

Alone in his cell once again, Isaac marveled at the revelation of Shadrach’s healing blood.

Did all demon blood have healing properties, or was it specific to Shadrach?

Maybe it was a thing for all black-eyed halflings.

His arm, while sore, was no longer broken.

Not only that, but since he’d ingested it, he’d felt renewed, like he hadn’t been tied up for over a day at all.

Enduring Talon’s torture was a lot easier with demon blood in his system.

At first, the damage Talon inflicted healed right away.

The longer it went on, the slower it became, like his exhaustion was catching up with him.

While he was still hungry and tired, both were much more tolerable now that they were his only immediate needs.

Even the crick in his neck was gone. It was a shame he hadn’t had Shadrach’s blood before the fight.

Then he might’ve actually been able to escape.

The door opened, pulling him from his thoughts.

The sight of Shadrach each time was like a punch to the solar plexus, stealing his breath.

He ground his teeth at his body’s traitorous reaction.

So what if the demon was conventionally attractive?

More than that, so what if he was the most attractive person Isaac had ever laid eyes on?

He was still the demon holding him captive.

Whatever strange reaction he had to him couldn’t be trusted.

Shadrach didn’t speak. He wordlessly handed Isaac a package wrapped in white paper and a bottle of water, then stepped back to lean against the closed door, cocking one hip out and folding his arms. Blocking the exit.

“Eat,” he said.

“How do I know it’s not poisoned?” He didn’t really think it was. He just wanted to be contrary. If they wanted to kill him, Talon would do it himself, not rely on poison.

One corner of Shadrach’s mouth lifted. He wasn’t fooled. “Eat.”

Truthfully, Isaac was hungry enough to risk it even if he suspected it’d been tampered with.

He ripped open the paper, noting that it was a sub sandwich just before he shoved it into his mouth.

In any other circumstances, he might’ve been uncomfortable having someone watch him eat.

And though he cast a few suspicious looks Shadrach’s way, the demon’s gaze never wavered.

His dark eyes glittered, watching Isaac as though captivated by the simple act of eating.

No one should be allowed to look that good in this ugly lighting.

Isaac became uncomfortably aware of his own looks.

He could smell himself, and he was certain he looked worse for wear.

Loose strands of his red hair hung lank around his face, and his shirt was ruined beyond repair.

Streaks of blood and gritty, dried sweat clung to his skin, and his teeth felt fuzzy.

He’d do a lot of despicable things for a shower right now.

But despite it all, Shadrach’s hungry gaze indicated that he didn’t see any of it.

He saw something deeper, something Isaac didn’t want him to see.

When he finished eating—he barely even noticed what was on the sandwich—he picked up the water bottle, cracked the seal, and lifted it, leaning back as he drank deeply.

It was only when he’d drained the majority of the bottle and stopped to catch his breath that he realized Shadrach’s eyes had been tracking the movement of his throat.

Heat simmered under his skin. He set the bottle down by his feet, beside the balled-up sandwich wrapper. His eyes met Shadrach’s, and for a moment, they just looked at each other.

“Tell me what Hawley would do to you,” Shadrach said.

The heat under Isaac’s skin was snuffed out like a candle in a snowstorm. “How do you know about that?”

“I saw it mentioned in your dreams last night. The others tell me they weren’t punished by the priest at all. So what did he do to you?”

Isaac looked away.

“Don’t clam up on me, killer.” His voice was soft, kind. It made Isaac want to gnash his teeth and fling curses. Kindness was a lie.

Kindness was used to coax him closer. Used to bend him and reshape him.

The guild had adopted a monster into their ranks and treated him accordingly, trained him with reward and punishment until he became the weapon they wanted him to be.

Kindness vanished the moment he stepped a toe out of line, and punishment was always swift to follow, just like the morning Talon had taken him.

Shadrach’s blood healed even those wounds, the sore, bruised lines from the whip fading to nothing the moment he let black blood inside his body.

They would all be horrified if they learned he had accepted such a thing. He would be cast out—or executed. Sloan wouldn’t suffer another betrayal, least of all from him.

“Isaac.” The sharp tone snapped him out of his spiral. He met dark eyes with his own. “I’m not them,” Shadrach said sternly. “Whatever they did to you, it won’t happen to you here. I won’t allow it.”

It wouldn’t happen here, no, but it would happen when he returned to them. It was inevitable.

Shadrach cursed under his breath at the obstinance on Isaac’s face. “Come on, killer. You’re smarter than this.”

Isaac scowled. “What are you talking about?”

“They’re not here ,” Shadrach said slowly. “They’re no longer a threat to you.”

“They’ll still be there when I go back.”

“Then don’t go back!”

Isaac drew back, startled. He couldn’t do that.

They must already know he was missing. Someone would’ve found Weston’s body.

They were probably looking for him. They’d either think that Isaac killed him and fled or that whoever killed Weston also took Isaac.

He had no idea which they’d find more plausible.

If it was the former, he’d have to prove his innocence.

If it was the latter, there was a good chance they already suspected the traitors.

“What are you thinking, killer? Where’d you go?”

Isaac shifted. “The longer you keep me here, the more dangerous it is for you.”

“How so?”

“If they think whoever killed Weston also captured me, they’ll suspect you guys of doing the deed. Sloan will use that to push his agenda forward.”

Shadrach sighed heavily. “In their defense, they wouldn’t be wrong, would they?

Although that’s just what we need right now.

” He folded his arms, his pensive gaze going distant, and Isaac got the impression he was missing some key information.

What was going on out there in the rest of the world that he wasn’t privy to?

“You could let me go,” Isaac suggested. “I could blame someone else. Got any enemies you want me to put in the line of fire?”

Shadrach looked intrigued. “Maybe.” He pushed away from the door. “If I leave you untied, will you be a good boy?”

The heat came back with a vengeance, like a match to kerosene. His spine stiffened, and Shadrach smiled, slow and predatory.

“Noted,” he said, and Isaac felt as though he’d lost some ground in this strange tug of war.

He approached and leaned down right in front of Isaac to pick up the sandwich wrapper, and Isaac caught a whiff of tobacco and black cherries.

“I’ve got to go. I’m going to leave you without the rope, and I’ll be in later to refill your water bottle.

Do me a favor while I’m gone.” Before Isaac could respond, Shadrach cupped his face with one hand, guiding his eyes to his.

“Spend some time coming to terms with the fact that a punishment doesn’t have to follow what happens here.

You don’t have to go back and let them mistreat you anymore. ”

Mistreat him? They’d only done what they thought was right. They’d said as much many times. One couldn’t mistreat a weapon, after all.

Looking exasperated, Shadrach said, “I can tell you’re really taking what I said to heart. I’m not sure how a man can be so tactically intelligent and emotionally stupid at the same time.”

Isaac slapped his hand from his face. “I’m not stupid.”

“No, you’re not. Which makes it all the more frustrating that you have such blind faith in them.”

Isaac scowled. They’d raised him, trained him. How could it be blind faith when they’d led him down the right path all his life?

It… was the right path, wasn’t it?

Shadrach sighed. “I’ll come back and we’ll talk more later, okay? I have to go discuss some things with the others right now. We’ve got a more immediate problem to deal with.”

“What problem?” Isaac asked, desperate for something else to think about.

“Nothing serious.” Shadrach went to the door. “There are halflings who feel much like Sloan does. They don’t like that the ex-paladins are teaming up with demons any better than the guild does.”

“They’ve threatened you?” Isaac didn’t understand the hot ball of anger that evoked. Shadrach was one of the people keeping him captive. Isaac certainly didn’t care what happened to him. That would be madness.

Shadrach’s eyes glittered with amusement. “Not me specifically. I appreciate the concern, though.”

Isaac resisted the urge to fidget. “I wasn’t concerned.”

He knew by Shadrach’s smile that he hadn’t fooled him.

“Tell me your sins.”

Candlelight alone lit the church’s yawning interior, flickering on the stained glass windows lining the pews.

Teenaged Isaac’s mouth pinched. He didn’t want to tell him. The air was cold on his bare upper body, and the stone floor was unforgiving against his bony knees. Hawley didn’t want to risk drawing attention to them by having lights on in the church after hours.

Thin leather whipped against his back, and Isaac’s body arched in response.

“Confess your sins.”

A low, stubborn sound rattled out of Isaac.

The whip scored against his back a second time, and he lurched forward, catching himself on his hands and returned to his knees before he could be reprimanded for losing his posture.

“I killed again,” he finally rasped.