Hell in a Handbasket Read online

  Or maybe she’s just waiting for the right moment to try to kill me.

  A tremor of fear skitters through me. Yep, I’m definitely not sleeping tonight.

  Sitting up, I swing my legs over the edge of the bed and hop down. Cassiel only rolls and stretches out on my pillow, enjoying the leftover warmth from my body. At least someone’s getting rest tonight, because it’s certainly not me.

  My pjs for the day consist of leggings and a long button-up thermal shirt. I head to my hiding place—also known as my wardrobe—and ruffle underneath the clothes, extra sheets, and blankets. Once my fingers brush against paper, I know I’ve found the hospital receipt I’ve hidden in there and pull it out.

  Might as well take this time to find some answers. There’s a good chance Cain’s already at Purgatory tonight, and I saw Dorian and Elias get into the Ferrari and drive off not too long ago. If I’m truly alone besides some outside guards, I could use this time to get answers. About my birth, my parents, and well, me.

  I’m about to walk toward the door, but instead, I hurry to the large stained glass window and peer toward the front of the house, just to double check no one’s returned home during my musings. Like before, the driveway is empty, and there are no signs of anyone coming around the dirt road, as far as I can see. It appears safe enough, and since I learned earlier that the guard is no longer at my door…

  Before I push away from the window, something catches my eye outside, and my heart freezes in my chest. A figure stands in the middle of the grounds, the same one I’d seen at the edge of the forest this morning, lined in white, with an eerie glow surrounding him. He’s closer now, standing in the middle of the fog, and I say “he” because I can see now it’s a man. Tall with sharp features and wispy blond, almost silvery hair. Wearing a white sleeveless tunic and fitted jeans, he appears almost ethereal standing there with his hands clasped behind his back, like a beam of light against the stark darkness.

  Right then, his chin lifts to meet my gaze.

  Shit!

  Stomach flipping, I jump away from the glass and press my back against the wall, breathing hard.

  Who the fuck is that? And why is he here?

  He’s still pretty far away to make out specific details, but he definitely doesn’t look like the other burly biker gang members I’ve seen. That could just mean Sir Surchion hired someone else. Maybe a fae? The blond hair checks out there.

  I could be wrong, but it’s possible he’s another guard the demons have stationed outside in case I try to escape again. That could be it, too.

  I need to get another look at him to be sure.

  Carefully, I slide along the wall to peek out the window again, but just like before, when I look onto the grounds below, the spot where the stranger once stood is now empty. Goosebumps crawl up and down my arms. The dense fog that floats along the ground swirls as if recently disturbed, but the man in white is nowhere to be found.

  He’s just… vanished. Again.

  Thoroughly creeped out, I rush out the bedroom door and hurry down the hall.

  Chapter Nine

  Aria

  My frantic running somehow brings me to the mansion’s library. And since I need to find more information about Saint Charity General Hospital, a place stocked floor to ceiling with centuries worth of knowledge might be a good place to start.

  I circle the colossal room, my gaze scanning the book bindings for any titles that could be helpful. The Art of Dark Magic, Untold Stories of the Underworld, The Mystical and Extinct: Magical Creatures, and the all too famous Dante’s Inferno. Although interesting, none of these would help me look up hospitals. Maybe I could find a map somewhere in this place?

  I spin, staring up at the full shelves all jammed with books, scrolls, and God-knows-what. The library is massive, taking up two of the three floors. There must be at least a million books in here alone. It’s going to take forever to find what I need.

  If only I had access to the internet. A phone or a computer.

  My gaze lands on a room at the opposite end, tucked in the back, almost hidden, but I can see the glass French doors and the glow of a screen.

  Bingo.

  Just what I need.

  After a quick glance over my shoulder, I hurry to it and discover that it’s an office. Inside is a large desk covered in papers and open books, as if someone has been frantically searching through them for answers. A modern and fairly new-looking laptop sits on top of it all. Excitement bubbles up inside me, and I reach for the door’s handle to find it permanently twisted down, broken.

  Huh. Well, at least I don’t have to worry about breaking in. I push the door open easily and walk inside.

  There’s one window in here, and it throws streams of light across the room. But besides those touches of light, everything else is dark. Mahogany furniture, a rich wine color on the walls, and gothic paintings of men locked in battle with demonic figures.

  I know instantly that the office is Cain’s. It matches his room and overall style too perfectly to be anyone else’s.

  That fact only heightens my anxiety. Also, unlike the other two demons, he’s more… complicated. I never know which way is up with him, and without Sayah’s help as lookout, I’m on my own. I have to make this quick.

  On quick feet, I pad over to the computer. When I see the familiar wing emblem, just like the one on my necklace, as the background, I know my assumption was right. It’s Cain’s.

  I pull out the chair and sit. A few quick clicks later, and I’ve found the internet search feature. Another nervous glance at the doors to make sure I’m still alone—I am—and I type in ‘Saint Charity General Hospital, Centreville, Illinois’ and hit the button.

  The first thing to come up is the address, which I already know since it’s on the receipt I found. What I need to know is more about me. But how I’m going to get that information, I have no idea. Maybe there’s a patient portal or something… A phone number I could call?

  I find the hospital’s website and click the link. What pops on screen next shocks me: Page Not Found.

  My heart sinks, and I refresh the page just to make sure what I’m seeing is true. It is.

  What? No. How is that possible?

  Are they having technical difficulties?

  I back out of the errored website, returning to the main search page, and see a phone number listed. At the corner of the desk, covered in papers, is a black phone, much more modern than that antique thing in the parlor that Elias made me use before.

  I quickly type in the number, hold the receiver to my ear, and hold my breath. A second later, the dun dun dun dun sound of a dead line blares.

  I slam the phone down. Dammit!

  Of course it couldn’t be easy.

  I reach into my pocket and pull out the paper I found in Murray’s secret compartment. Unfolding it, I read over the words again, like I have so many times before. My name, date and time of birth, sex as female, and the price of over eighteen thousand dollars. No other names. Not even a signature. No clues as to who I am.

  No. There’s no way this could be just a dead end.

  Looking back to the screen, I scroll further, eyes skimming the headlines. Mostly about awards the hospital has won for outstanding service or notable doctors joining their research team. Nothing that could actually help me.

  The laptop snaps close, and I jump in surprise. My gaze flicks up to see Cain standing on the other side of the desk, blue eyes shining dangerously and lips twisted in an angry scowl. My heart leaps into my throat. I’ve been caught.

  “What are you doing in here?” he growls through clenched teeth and leans forward.

  “I-I-I—” The words won’t come. They’re stuck on my tongue.

  When he spots the paper still in my hand, his hand whips out and snatches it faster than a blink. Panicked, I leap out of the chair and lunge for it, but he holds it out of reach as he reads it over.

  “Hey, that’s mine!” I croak, swiping for it.


  “And this is my office,” he replies coolly. “And that was my laptop you decided to use. Without my permission, I might add.”

  As he continues to look at the receipt, I hurry around the desk, but before I can grab for it again, he quickly folds it and sticks it in the inner pocket of his suit jacket, saying nothing.

  “Can I have it back at least?” I ask.

  “Maybe another day.”

  “Bastard.” The word slips past my lips without permission, and in the next second he’s over me, pushing my ass against his desk, face mere inches from mine. I crawl backward, over the scattered papers and books, just to create more distance between us, but he only comes closer, those piercing eyes never leaving mine. They burn into me.

  All I can imagine is the creature I found in the parlor the other day. The thing with marble gray skin lined in black veins and huge leathery wings that was consuming the soul of a werewolf. And that terrible sucking sound… It’s haunted my dreams since.

  He’s going to do that to me. I just know it.

  As I scramble backward, my palm touches something cold and smooth. I don’t care what it is. I grip it and lash out, slashing it wildly between us.

  Cain recoils, fingers pressing against a three-inch slice across his neck. It’s not deep, just a flesh wound, but blood drips past his fingers.

  I look at the object in my grasp and discover that it’s a silver letter opener. Both sharp and pointed at the end. The tip gleams red.

  Oh shit. If he wasn’t going to kill me before, he sure is now. I instantly regret this decision.

  Breathing heavily, I glance up at Cain. “I-I’m sorry,” I gasp. “I didn’t mean… I didn’t—” But I did. I had meant to hurt him. I don’t even know why I’m apologizing at all. My hand trembles, but I keep the letter opener pointed at him.

  His surprise is quickly replaced with anger, the icy cobalt color of his eyes swallowed by the ominous black. He takes a threatening step toward me.

  “Are you trying to kill me, Aria?” His voice is deeper, his accent richer. He drops his fingers, no longer caring about the wound I made.

  My mouth opens, but again, I can’t speak. My fear paralyzes me.

  As the dark lines snake down his face and neck, I notice the blood oozing from the gash has turned black, too.

  This is it. He’s going to do it. Devour my soul.

  Another step and the tip of the letter opener presses against the middle of his chest, right where his heart should be. “Do it,” he says, challenging me. “And it’s one less demon holding your contract. Kill me, Aria. Kill me.”

  All I can do is shake my head frantically. Everything he says is true. Killing him would mean I’d be one step closer to freedom, and really, he’s making it easy for me. The letter opener is so sharp that one hard push could… No, there’s no way it’ll be that simple. If demons even have hearts, could stabbing one kill them? I don’t know. And that isn’t something I want to find out through trial and error.

  Even if I managed to do it without dying myself, I still had Elias and Dorian to worry about. The odds aren’t really in my favor here.

  Cain pushes closer, and the letter opener pierces his flesh. Not a hint of pain flickers across his face, and that’s terrifying in itself. It’s like he doesn’t feel it. More tar-like blood bubbles up, staining his white dress shirt. Still, he leans in even more, sinking the blade deeper, until his mouth hovers over mine.

  Holding my breath, I don’t move. I’m too scared to.

  “Kill me,” he whispers, but this time, there’s a hint of something else in his tone. Something sensual. My heart thunders against my ribs.

  His steps have brought him to stand in between my legs, and since I’m on the desk, our bodies press against each other in all the right places. I can feel his rock-hard erection through his pants, and now my stomach flips for another reason. The intense fear running through my veins turns into an even fierier desire.

  “Well?” he asks softly. “I’m waiting.”

  “Maybe another day.” The words are barely out when his mouth crashes onto mine in a kiss that has my head spinning. Just like the kiss in the dining room, he is demanding and relentless, clinging to me. His fingers rake through my hair, tangling, and I drop the letter opener between us to grasp the lapels of his jacket instead. I can feel him shaking against me as all his control, all his reserve and resistance, finally comes undone. The dam has broken within him.

  In one swift move, he swipes an arm across the desk, sending papers, books, and even his laptop flying across the room. It makes a terrible cracking noise when it hits the ground, but he doesn’t seem to care. He’s already grabbing me by the shirt and tearing it off me. The buttons pop, the material shredded, and excitement flares to life inside me at what I know is coming next.

  This time, I hope he doesn’t pull away. I’ve told him my secrets, after all—well, for the most part. We’re beyond the games by now, aren’t we? God, I hope so.

  After chucking the torn scraps of my shirt to the side, he continues to kiss me and moves to my bra next. It takes only seconds before that, too, is snapped off me and thrown to the wayside. At the same time, I pull off his jacket and start undoing his blood-soaked shirt, both our movements rushed in our urgency. He doesn’t want to wait another second longer, it seems, because he scoops me up by the back of my legs and quickly yanks them up, forcing me to lay on my back across the desk. One yank and my leggings are off. He’s still pretty much fully clothed, but I’m only in my underwear.

  “Cain…” I whisper, my hands covering my breasts. He ignores that and kneels before me, resting my legs on his shoulders. My breathing hitches at the sight of him between my thighs, his black-eyed gaze pinned on my sex. How many times have I dreamed of him exactly like this? Using his mouth and tongue to bring me to orgasm over and over? I’ve lost count.

  When he peeks up at me, those black abysses give way to crystal blue irises again. They sear into me.

  “Oh, my sweet, sweet Aria,” he murmurs. His finger glides along my lace panties, tracing the place where I burn most for him. “What am I ever going to do with you?”

  He’s full of hunger like I’ve never seen before, and the sweet tingle of anticipation races down my spine. Knowing he’s been thinking similar things turns me on like nothing else.

  “I have a few ideas…” I breathe, and he chuckles at that.

  “Good. Because so do I.” He tugs the fabric separating us aside, and in a blink, he’s on me, his tongue swirling around my clit in the most expert fashion. My moan is instantaneous, pleasure rocketing through me. Gripping my thighs, he growls too, and the vibrations from his mouth only heighten the intense sensations rushing throughout my body.

  He continues to lick and flick and ravish me, holding onto my legs for dear life, and as that delicious pressure begins to build in my lower stomach, my back arches and I fist a handful of papers on the desk. Hopefully none of them are important.

  My orgasm crashes into me like a freight train, and I cry out from the sheer power of it. I don’t think I’ve ever come so fast in my life. As it rips through me, it leaves me gasping for air, unable to suck enough into my empty lungs and bring my body back to equilibrium.

  My muscles twitch, and tingles spread all over my skin. But it doesn’t matter. Cain is showing no signs of stopping. Instead, two fingers slide into me, sinking deep inside. I suck in a sharp breath as he stretches and fills me while his tongue continues its relentless torture.

  “Oh my G—”

  His guttural growl of warning cuts me off, and I clamp my mouth shut. Not smart to use the Lord's name here, even if it could be considered in vain.

  He pumps his fingers in and out, and every muscle turns to jelly. At the same time, his tongue circles my already ultra-sensitive nub, and I’m forced to grip his hair to keep myself from rolling off the desk. Already, I feel myself start to tremble again as another sweet climax builds.

  "Holy fuck. Cain."

  "Yes,
Aria. Say my name when you come for me,” he says against me between licks. "I want to hear it."

  This time, when my climax peaks, I have no choice but to scream. I don't know if it sounds like his name or not. I have no control over myself in the moment, because pleasure unlike anything I've ever known spirals through me. My vision blurs, and all other sensations become lost.

  As the residual tremors from my orgasm make their way through my body, my muscles clenching and unclenching in the best kind of way, Cain moves. Stands. He makes quick work of shrugging off his shirt and undoing his belt, and I push myself onto my elbows to get a better look at him. My gaze finds the gash in the center of his chest right away. Blood still drips from it, running down his front, but I’m quickly distracted by how muscular he is. The business clothes don’t do him justice. He’s wide at the shoulders, his body slender but solid and sculpted everywhere. His waist tapers in, and when he steps out of his pants before me, I’m left gaping like a deer in headlights. My heartbeat’s a thundering boom in my ears. I’ve seen Elias and Dorian naked before, but not Cain. And he’s… wickedly sexy. Dark. Drool-worthy. Dangerous.

  And right now, all mine.

  The outline of his erection is visible through his tight boxer briefs, and I bite my lip at the idea of what’s coming next. I scoot closer to the edge of the desk, reach out, and hook my finger into the waistband.

  His hand snatches my wrist, holding me there, preventing me from going any further. I see the flash of hesitation in his eyes that’s making him pause. He’s trying to resist again, but there’s no way I’m going to let this end before we reach the good part, like in the club. I can’t let him sink back into his own head.

  He wants me. And, as fucked up as it may be, I want him, too.

  Sitting up fully, my other hand comes up and seizes his boxers, wrenching him closer to me. Right in between my legs. When I meet his gaze again, I smile, letting him know there’s no turning back now. And from the look of deep-seated lust hovering in his gaze, I have a sneaking suspicion his anger with me before was nothing more than a ruse. A front. It’s his safety net; it’s all he knows.