Bells of Demonio (Kings of Terror 1)

I blinked and found myself on all fours with Malachi fucking me from behind and Nico’s dick inside my mouth, covered in saliva as I sucked and moaned. His soot-colored hand was still holding me tight, sharpened points where nails should’ve been.

My body stayed in a state of arousal that defied logic. Soft, soothing lies churned through my mind, keeping the tempo of my heart in check and fear at bay.

My soul was no longer my own, divided in three and sealed with a promise carved into my skin--imprinted upon with a language evil and ancient.

The forked tongue of a serpent slithered over flesh still marred with blood, whispering in my ear, telling me I’d always belonged to the demon that had his hand wrapped around my throat.

CHAPTER

The pounding on the door couldn’t be ignored. I tossed an arm over my brow willing whoever it was to leave me alone, but they only knocked harder.

“Get your asses up!” Alex yelled.

I groaned and hoisted myself into a sitting position. My goddamn throat felt bruised on the inside. “It’s too early for this,” I croaked loud enough for him to hear.”

“Early? Bitch, it’s five past two!”

Was it really that late?

I looked around for my phone, spotting it on the other side of the room.

Of, course.

“Is your lover shy?” Jacob questioned through the door.

“What?” I mumbled.

Bellatrix’s bed was unmade and empty, but they couldn’t have been referring to her in the first place. I looked down and noticed the shirt I was sleeping in wasn’t one of mine. Quarter sleeved and smelling of honey and tobacco, the lingering fragrance brought forth a distorted array of images.

“Holy shit…” I slept with three men in a single night, at the same time. I hadn’t bothered with one in ages. Three? What type of voodoo was in that chocolate?

There’d been a knife…right?

I shoved the comforter off me, swallowing as I reached for the hem of the shirt and slowly lifted it. Two symbols were carved into either side of my thighs, another began above my navel.

My breath caught at the sight of them. I didn’t understand—couldn’t remember how this happened. These would’ve caused a lot of pain and taken weeks to heal. How could they look so natural? Why was there no blood, not on me, the sheets, or Nico’s shirt? Where was Nico?

What the fuck happened last night?

I scrubbed my hands over my face and tried to think. There was a blockage eerily similar to the one preventing me from remembering my past. If I could blame the drugs and alcohol I would, but they didn’t explain half of this. I barely felt hungover, my body carried no side effects of drinking or doing MDMA. I simply felt thoroughly fucked.

“Angeline?” a feminine voice called out to me.

That sounded like Sasha.

Fuck…

I couldn’t tell the others about this they’d lose their damned minds. I didn’t have any words to reassure them or explain what this even was.

“One sec!” I scrambled out of bed and rushed towards the bathroom, snagging my suitcase as I went.

The heavy blinds were drawn, and the lights were off, giving me a cloak of invisibility. Inside the restroom, I flipped on the light and studied my reflection. The worst thing I could see so far was that I’d fallen asleep with my contact in and the odd marks on my body.

The sex was consensual.

At least, I didn’t have any inclinations to object. I came more times than I could even begin to recount. In the end it’d been just me and Nico with my legs wrapped around him.

That much I could recall.

Okay… I needed a plan of action.

Nico, Malachi, and Damian were clearly gone--if that was even their real names. I could hide these marks from everyone and tell Bellatrix the first chance I got and maybe she’d be able to help me figure out the rest.

I felt fine, unnaturally so, but I was safe. None of my organs had been removed for harvesting and I wasn’t being circulated through some fucked up trafficking ring. I could deal with this.

I swallowed and closed my eyes, expelling a breath to relax. Opening them, I turned on the sink and began to wash up as best I could.

I popped a chunk of bread in my mouth and like every piece I’d eaten thus far, nothing happened. There was no sense of fulfillment. I could taste the bread and brown sugar spread, but it wasn’t filling me up. If anything, it teased my hunger and told me to eat more just to start the whole frustrating process all over again.

Determined, I dragged another chunk of bagel through an excess glob of cream cheese, barely listening to the conversation around me. I pretended to watch the people swimming in the nearby pool. My mind was on nothing other than what happened last night, what I could remember, anyway.