No, no. He has anti-possession markings, and he’s much too strong for a demon to take over.
I’m still stumped as to how they used wiccan powers. No way were those witch spirits that somehow managed to pass from the spirit planes to here. I felt the presence when I was inside that guy. I felt the dark, twisted, purity of the evil. I know a demonic presence when I feel one.
Something crackles across the sky, sounding suspiciously like thunder. Slowly, I make my way to the door, hoping it is something so mundane and not the crackle of power because we’ve been tracked.
Wind stirs loudly, and I look up as the sky opens up and begins to pour rain. Another crackle of thunder is accompanied by a streak of lightning in the distance.
I shudder with relief while closing the sad excuse for a door. It’s crooked and barely hanging on by the one hinge that hasn’t rotted off.
Blowing out a breath, I walk back to the sealed door, but something crashes on the other side of it, like glass breaking. A dark, vicious, deafening roar fills the cabin, rattling the weak walls and sending me diving to the ground, drawing my knees up as all the glass from the windows shatters in unison.
My heart hammers in my chest as I leap up from the ground, sliding through the front door that is now hanging ajar, apparently blown open from the... whatever in the hell that was.
I roll off the porch, staying low as something bright blazes through the air. My heart kicks my chest harder as I crawl, trying to remain silent. Rain drenches me with its unrelenting downpour that is at full speed.
Just as I reach the back of the cabin, my eyes lock on that streak of light, realizing it’s a fire burning so bright that the lines of it are almost white.
Chaz.
He’s standing there, his entire body shaking as his hands explode with pent-up power. His eyes are wild, wide, and determined. I can’t tell if he’s out of his mind, or just in dire need of release. I thought he was tired, like me. Apparently he has too much energy.
I watch in awe as he continues to unleash a small portion of himself into the world. He looks strained, intense, and... lost.
Something about that lost look is what breaks something inside me. It’s a reflection of how I’ve felt since the day I was taken.
I was born for the purposes of being used. I was never born to be loved or cherished. I was planned with the sole intent of being prodded and tinkered on.
Lost is an understatement of how I feel.
Cursing myself for being an idiot, I push up to my feet and wipe away the wet hair from my face. “Chaz!” I yell, fully prepared to dematerialize if I have to.
The fire stops immediately, and his eyes cut to mine. That lost look slowly fades, and a new emotion replaces it.
My breath catches as his body turns to face mine, and the twenty feet between us suddenly disappears when he’s right in front of me in less than a blink. I barely have time to register the action before he’s slamming me against the wall of the cabin.
My body thuds against the creaking wood, and then he’s on me, his lips crushing mine in such a surprising maneuver that I don’t react at all. His tongue rakes across the seam of my lips, and they part as though he commands them.
He growls deep in his throat, pushing against me harder. My eyes roll back in my head when I taste how incredible his—
No. Hell no.
My hands are on the firm skin of his chest, and I start pushing him away, ignoring how a small part of me seems to protest the action. As my mind and body war for dominance, Chaz grips my leg, jerking it up until it’s on his hip.
I gasp into his mouth when he suddenly grinds against me, and I feel every rigid inch of his—
“Chaz,” I mumble against his lips, trying and failing not to respond to the way he’s touching me. My brain begs my mouth to protest, but my lips decide to just continue to allow the sensual assault instead.
There’s not a sane, rational reason why I should be kissing him right now. While we’re lost in the woods with no cell signal. While we’re running from a horde of unknown demons who’ve managed to form their own night stalker army against all logic.
So why do I kiss him harder when he grinds against me again?
When I moan into his mouth, I’ve already given up trying to be logical. I can’t ever remember feeling like my soul was on fire. Never has my entire body been so desperate. Never have I wanted something like this so fiercely.
Chaz lifts me, pulling me forward and slamming into the wall again. He’s as wild and out of control as I feel, and that could actually be deadly for me.
Every decision I make right now seems to be lined with an extra dose of stupid as I wear the lust goggles and let them lead me into the darkness.
“Tell me to stop,” he says against my lips, even though there’s not an ounce of conviction in his words that gives me pause.