Page 46

Marina smiles at me, her teeth a stunning pearly white.

“He is. Az told me he’s had a very difficult time keeping you safe in that hellhole.”

My mouth falls open. This woman, once a nun, is married . . . to a demon. An actual horned, shadow demon.

Her grin widens, and she turns to Marcelo. “I told you how I’m involved, now tell me what you know.”

Marcelo clenches his jaw and runs his free hand through his already-mused hair. “Fine,” he grunts. “I’m an exorcist for the Catholic Church. I was called in to find a demon and eliminate it, but it’s been . . . complicated.

“I’m going to assume you know all about demons, being married to one. Upon arrival at St. Mary’s, I found . . . your husband. And other creatures. A number of imps, signs of a cult, and now, June has encountered a second demon.”

“In which my husband saved her from,” Marina quipped.

“What Marcelo has said is pretty much all we know. We found the burned convent by following the cult’s trail, and your husband was there.”

“The cult was also there. Or, about to be—” Marina explains. “He was getting you both out of there before they came.”

We’re both stunned into silence for a moment. All along, he’s been . . . helping us?

“Tell me about this cult,” Marcelo pleads, sighing again. I feel the frustration oozing off of him, and I can’t help but feel like it’s frustration at himself. “I specialize in searching for the occult. I put a stop to cultists practicing and stop them from summoning more into our world. But this—I can’t figure out anything about it. Nothing. I know one person who may be involved, and that’s it.”

The mention of Daren sends shivers down my spine. Marcelo wraps his arm around me again, like he had in the car, and pulls me into him. The weight of his arm, the warmth of his skin—it grounds me like nothing else, comforts me like a toasty blanket in a cold room, like fuzzy socks on chilly toes, like my favorite movie on a rainy day. I immediately feel at ease.

“Tell me, exorcist, do you know of the hierarchy of Hell?” Marina questions.

“Sure. Devil, demons, lesser demons, imps.”

Marina nods. “There is one, small, subcategory between Devil and demons.”

“The princes of Hell?”

“The closest companions to the Devil himself, yes.” Marina grabs her coffee again, and this time, I follow her, taking up mine. “The Devil and his princes, Leviathan, Asmodeus, and Bael. Together, they make for the most powerful combination the nine rings have ever seen. But because of it, their power is often questioned. Namely, by a demon so close in power to the four, he became greedy for more. Valac was condemned to earth, tethered to a mortal body, after trying to usurp the four. He’s the leader of your cult.”

Marcelo abruptly stands, pacing the room. “Wait. So you’re telling me the cult leader is a demon himself?”

Marina nods. “He was when he had his followers overtake the convent too. Asmodeus was the first demon he tried to tether to the earth, and”—she lifts her hand, flashing her ring to us—“he was successful. Az hasn’t been able to return to Hell since.”

“Not that I mind.” A voice, deeper than I’ve ever heard, but smooth—familiar—rings behind us. Marcelo halts in his tracks and I quickly turn to look as well. Walking from what I only assume is the bedroom comes a massive man decked in a three-piece black suit. He’s larger than large, with shoulders the width of a doorway, and more than a few inches taller than Marcelo. His tan skin is darkened by black, wavy hair reaching his waist, and his eyes—his eyes are a brilliant amber, like that of molten gold.

The man saunters across the room casually, and plops on the yellow couch next to Marina. He smiles at her before grabbing her chin between his forefinger and thumb, pulling her lips to his. As they kiss, I see a matching black ring on his finger, and instantly know—this . . . man isn’t a man at all. He’s the demon, Asmodeus.

Marcelo falls onto the couch next to me, stunned. “What the fuck does he want with June and I?”

Asmodeus leans back on the couch, his arm draped around Marina. He looks like he’s in his mid-thirties, Marina twice his age if not more—yet, it’s so obvious the two are still madly in love with each other.

The demon pulls Marina back against him. “With you? I have no clue. With her . . .” Those amber eyes lock onto me. “He’s wanted her for a long time. He’s been . . . grooming her. Getting her ready.”

Marcelo’s entire body goes rigid. His fists clench, his teeth grind against each other. “For what?” he barks out.

“Valac has had a long, long time to plan. I know he wants to tether us to mortals, to get us out of Hell, but somehow, he plans on breaking his tether to get back in. And my guess, he plans on doing that through her.” He raises a long, thick finger. I hadn’t noticed before, but his nails are long and sharp, the entire tips of his fingers a dark charcoal, as if dipped in soot.

“Is he possessing someone in the church?” Marcelo asks, but the words are beginning to sound fuzzy. Far away.

All I can think of are the demon’s words. Grooming her. Getting her ready. And then, the other demon. You’ve no idea how long we’ve wanted you, Junia. How long we’ve waited. I’ve been preparing you for me. Preparing your body to accept me.

I’m a target. No. The target.

I know who the demon is. I should’ve known a long time ago.

Asmodeus slowly nods. “Valac—”

Just as he says the name again, my entire body convulses forward. Suddenly, it’s too hot in the apartment, too hot in my clothes, too hot in my skin. My cheeks flush, and my skin feels like it’s on fire.

“June, what’s wrong?” Marcelo grabs my shoulders, his touch rocking through my body, shooting straight to my core. I’m already so wet in just a matter of seconds, my pussy throbbing for . . . something, anything. I grab Marcelo’s arm to steady myself, digging my nails into him.

“We have to go,” he says, more to me than to Marina and Asmodeus. “Thank you for your help.” Marcelo helps me stand, holding me to him the entire time. His hard body rubbing against mine sends another wave of euphoria through me.

Marina stands, taking a step toward me before Asmodeus catches her wrist, his dark voice booming. “You know what’s happening to her, love. You can’t help her.”

Marina’s eyes harden, her lip sticking out as if she’s not ready to give up. “Have him help you, June.” She nods her head at Marcelo. “Until it ends, have him help you.” Her eyes shift to Marcelo. “I’m sorry to ask this of you, Father, but continue to break your vows for her. Save her. Stop Valac.”

Marcelo pulls me to him again as I stumble over my own feet. He lifts me into his chest, hugging his hands under my ass as he positions my thighs around his waist. “I will,” he tells her. Then, louder, “Diablo!”

Marcelo turns toward the door, my head swirling to face the room, Marina, Asmodeus, and Diablo trotting up to us. For a brief moment, Diablo turns to Asmodeus, and the demon looks back. A smile tilts the demon’s lips, a wink of a golden eye.

And then, the door to apartment 4B closes, with me draped in Marcelo’s arms and Diablo running under our feet.

Marcelo dashes into the elevator, and as soon as the door closes behind us, I can’t help but grind against him, hiking my skirt high enough to feel his jeans press against me, to feel the rough texture against my skin. I’m moaning before I even realize it, pressing my face into the crook of his neck. His leathery scent fused with the frankincense from the church is enough to make me drunk, I can never have enough of this—of him, of his scent, his body, his touch.

Marcelo takes a few shuffling steps back, leaning against the elevator wall.

“June,” he groans. “June, tell me what you need.” I feel his cock hardening against me, reacting to my neediness. And, my God, does that not turn me on even more.

I can’t help but kiss his neck, licking his Adam’s apple, hungrily searching for his lips. “You,” I say against his skin. “I need you.”

He cups my ass, squeezing hard as he pulls me into him again, grinding his hips in time with mine. His cock is so hard now, pressing against my lace panties, and I want nothing more than to rip all the fabric between us so our skin can be touching.

Marcelo chuckles, a deep sound that reverberates through his chest to mine, sparking my nipples to life as they rub against him. “The demon can’t have you, June,” he grunts into my hair. His hands tighten around me, forcing another moan to slip free.

“I’m all yours,” I breathe. The demon may be the reason this is happening to my body, and it may even be a way for it to try to claim me—but it can’t have something that is already taken. “You are my Salvation, my freedom, and I want to make this demon regret it ever tried to stake a claim on my body.” I grind against him more, more. Desperate for him, needy, and wanting. I kiss him, mixing the hunger I feel for him with the lust the demon has embedded in me. I’ll make the demon regret making me want for anything, but I will never want for it . I will only ever want for my masked man, my priest, my Salvation. I will only ever want for Marcelo.