Chapter 13 - Captured (Patreon)

I didn’t move. I didn’t breathe.

The steel against my neck felt odd. I’d played with blades before. I’d even cut myself to know what the pain felt like. It was different now. I had no control. My life was in the hands of another’s.

I didn’t like it.

“Don’t say a word. Don’t ask questions. Don’t try to run,” ordered Turk. His voice slithered into my ear. “I can cut your throat faster than you can blink.”

There was a spike of adrenaline when the knife touched my throat—something primal that hissed at me to kill, run, or bite. I buried it. I cataloged the sensation, noted my instinct, and discarded it. A calm mind was a boon at the moment.

I had more questions than anything, but this outcome explained why Turk hardly reacted to my eye color. It didn’t explain how he could cry so well or pretend to grieve throughout the day, though. On a certain level, I envied the believability.

“I haven’t had to kill anyone you care about…yet. Be grateful. I thought I would. Everything’s worked out in your favor,” continued Turk. “But if you scream or try to get away, I’m fucked, so I’ll kill you and everyone in that house. Don’t even try to use mana. I see your marks glow before you even get a chance.”

I deeply contemplated his words. After a moment, I nodded very, very slowly.

“Good,” hissed Turk into my ears. “Now for a bit of darkness. Relax. Let it happen.”

Turk’s blade left my throat and was quickly replaced by the underside of his arm. I couldn’t effectively mold my mana in time as the oxygen slipped out of me.

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When my eyes next opened, I was staring at a dirt road. My vision was blurry. The odd shaking of my unknown environment wasn’t helping any. I was disoriented, confused, and in pain.

When my senses started returning to normal, nausea rolled through my gut. My head throbbed like someone had split it with a rock. I was bent across the horse’s neck at a bad angle—one wrong bump, and I might suffocate in its mane.

Reflexively, I tried to move, but my hands and arms were bound tight with rope. A gag restrained my mouth. I could barely move and could not speak. A collar with a large mana crystal flopped at my neck.

That’s not good.

“Oh? Are you awake?” A voice sounded from above. I lifted my neck and saw Turk looming down at me from his position in the horse’s saddle. “Sorry about the accommodations. You’ll have to get used to them. Life gets tough for you starting now.”

My eyes narrowed at my captor.

“Don’t look at me like that.” His green eyes winced as if he was actually in pain. “Being judged hurts my feelings.”

My gaze didn’t falter.

Turk focused on the road. He kicked his horse, spurring it forward faster.

Up ahead, the trees that surrounded us opened. The air felt salty. Based on the stars and wind, we were headed east. It meant we were on the main road some distance from Sandy Branch, following the path to Port Prosper. I’d never been on it before, but thanks to Jessie, I’d seen maps and knew the general geography of Zalevet.

“Thank the Gods I hid the horse with some food. That made things easier,” muttered Turk to himself. “Gotta make it to the camp, mark her, change her, and we’re good to go. Might even test her out, see if she’s worth the price.” He glanced at me for a moment, then looked ahead again. “The other towns won’t question shit, so we’ll be able to stay at an inn.” He breathed out slowly, his tone relieved. “Hard part’s over. Gods, that was fun.”

Not a lot of helpful info, but it's enough for now. Seems like he plans to sell me as a slave. It doesn’t explain everything else he did or why, but it’s a start. Does he know I’m an archdevil, or is there another reason? What happened with the bandits? His brother? I need, well, I want more info before I plan my great escape.

There was no point in panicking. I had white eyes. There were weapons in my codex. As soon as I was in a safe spot, I’d supercharge myself with mana, kill Turk, and head home.

At least, that was the simplified version of the plan, but I needed more to go on. If Turk was working alone, that was one thing. If he weren’t, killing him now would only lead to greater trouble later. It was best to wait, learn, and act when I had more to go on. I still don’t really know why I was kidnapped, why I was chosen specifically, and what for. Only bits and pieces with no confirmation. If he knew I was an archdevil, then I had to learn who else knew and plan for the future.

Yeah, it’s best to wait. I decided. He mentioned a camp. I can pull what I can from him there before doing anything.

I wasn’t worried. I’d find a way out of the situation. The first chance I got, I’d try breaking the collar. In theory, I knew how, but I didn’t want to risk Turk seeing me do it. Not until I was sure.

My position on the horse was awkward. Every stop jostled me. The bottom of my stomach ached from the up-and-down thumping, like a fist repeatedly punching the same bruise. My right side was rubbed raw by the saddle’s edge. Rope bit into my wrists, and the fibers had already chewed the skin open in spots. My fingers had gone slightly numb. My throat throbbed where Turk had choked me. Each breath scraped like sandpaper.

Other than those few things, everything was fine.

What parts of Turk’s story were real? I asked myself as my mind wandered due to boredom and curiosity. The bandits were real. Otherwise, Barcus and his group wouldn’t have mobilized the entire local adventurer population. Turk’s brother was dead. I saw the blood. I saw the body. I remembered the way Turk curled up in a ball, shaking and sobbing like a man crushed by grief. I guess it was all fake, but I believe him. That pisses me off more than anything. I wish I could do that.

Trust is currency. Most people don’t realize they’ve spent it until it’s gone. I never gave mine freely. I couldn’t afford to. I didn’t trust Turk once, but I trusted the structure around him—how people looked at and acted around him. Nigel knew him and his brother. Because of all that, I let my senses dull.

That mistake will never happen again.

After a few minutes on the road, Turk slowed his horse. It dipped from a gallop to a fast trot. “Where oh where…come on, brain, remember.” His eyes scanned the tree line. “Ah. Yes. Got it!” He thumped my head with his fingers. “Got lost there for a second.” The horse slowed to a walk. Turk veered it left into a small, open space amongst the foliage. A normal person would miss it if they didn’t know the slot was there.

Brush battered my face. I lifted my head to avoid it, but it did little to help. Small branches and leaves scraped me. I turned my head so my hair would cushion the brunt of it.

The foliage soon opened to a small clearing. Turk got off his horse and controlled it by its lead. We moved some distance to a large rock with a curved roof, like a makeshift house. There was evidence of a past camp and space for a horse to lay.

Turk tethered his horse and pulled me off the front of it. I was placed gently, surprisingly, on the ground near where a fire was once lit. My hands and feet remained restrained. Turk sat across from me and pulled wood out of his codex. The pieces were perfectly chopped. He placed them on a pile, allowed flames to flicker in his hands, and started a small fire.

“That should do it.” My captor examined his handy work with a grin. His gaze shifted to me. “Oh. Right.” He crawled across the ground, undid my gag, then sat back in place. “Better?”

I chomped my teeth together and ground my jaw. “Better,” I admitted as I moved to my knees, still restrained. “Easier to breathe.”

Turk stared at me curiously. “I’ll admit it. I expected screaming.”

My nose crinkled. “Who would that help?” I sarcastically gestured around with my head and shoulders. “We near a settlement? Any group of people? Are you stupid enough to ungag me in an area where you might get caught?”

“Most people don’t think that,” retorted Turk. “They just start screaming.”

“Pointless.”

“It is, but still.”

“Where are we exactly?” The back and forth was starting to annoy me. “How far from Sandy Branch?”

Turk snorted. “Nice try.”

I scowled.

“There. Some emotions.” Turk seemed delighted by the break in my character. “Things are worse than you think they are.”

“I’ve experienced hatred because of who I am all my life.” I rolled my eyes, then fixed Turk with a stern, unblinking stare. “Why am I here? What was the scheme with the bandits and your brother? Was any of that real?” I offered him a purely sarcastic smile. “We’re friends, aren’t we? It’s dark, there’s nothing to do, and I’m bored. Enlighten me.”

“You’re one weird little child,” muttered Turk as he examined me from a distance. “Oh well. Not like there are refunds for bad personalities.”

Refunds? So I am getting sold. Yay. It was that or be killed. At least one keeps me alive.

“You hungry?” asked Turk. He opened his codex, causing his eyes and marks to glow brilliantly green as mana moved through him. “Too bad.” He snatched a loaf of bread and freshly cooked meat from his storage. “You’ve got a bit too much personality, and I don’t like the look in your eyes or their color. Be better if you weakened a little more, you know? I’ll feed you once I got the mark on yah.” He paused. “Should I do that now?” He paused again. “After I eat. Need to examine you, too. Make sure there’s nothing physically wrong with you.”

Probably doesn’t want to mark a defective product. I thought. I knew what the Mark of Enslavement was. I’d seen it on other devils, and Jessie taught me how it worked, as did Tart and Bruno. Their perspectives on it were…very different.

I studied Turk as he ate. His posture was relaxed—too much so. He was either extremely arrogant or knew no one was coming for him. Based on his words on the horse, I assumed the latter, but both were possible. He kept glancing at the tree line, though, like he expected the shadows to reach out and bite him at any minute. He seemed to have the abilities of a qualified, seasoned adventurer, so maybe his background wasn’t a total lie. Not all of it, at least.

Turk’s horse neighed loudly and stomped its feet. It looked almost like it was jealous of Turk eating. Turk noticed this and bopped his forehead. He pulled some carrots out of his codex and walked toward the animal.

His back’s to me. Now’s my chance.

I circulated mana inside my body. As I did, it diverted instantly to the crystal at my neck. A bright light flared out. As I molded more mana, it grew brighter as the crystal sapped larger amounts of my energy.

Right. It’s a mana crystal. Its setup in the collar diverts any mana I mold. Jessie told me about these—mana restrictors crafted for prisoners and slaves. They work by absorbing mana the moment it surges, short-circuiting the body’s flow. The key flaw? The mana crystal used for the device. Overload them, and they shatter—if you have the mana to do so. I very much do.

Testing my knowledge, I flowed as much mana as possible into my body. The crystal sapped it every time, growing brighter and brighter as more of my power leeched into it.

A flash of heat crawled up the side of my neck, and the collar hummed faintly with power. Not enough to hurt, but enough to warn me that I was making progress. A dumber person might have panicked. I filed away the sensation, calculated how much more mana it could take before shattering, and outlined a few scenarios in which to take action.

It’s possible. If I focus on my throat and move as much mana as I can where the collar is, I should be able to overstimulate it to the point of breaking. I realized with a slight grin. I’ve got white eyes, moron. Did you think this would be enough? It probably is for most, but not for me. You’d need a Perfect Crystal if you want to hold me, and if you had one of those, you wouldn’t even be wasting your time on me.

Monsters and demons dropped mana crystals when they died. They were the basis for crafting and alchemy throughout the world. The weakest and most common ones were Crude Crystals. Then there were Refined Crystals, Polished Crystals, Pristine Crystals, Exquisite Crystals, and Perfect Crystals.

Perfect Crystals were only dropped from the strongest monsters and demons—creatures so powerful that they were basically mythical, nation-ending threats. An Exquisite Crystal might hold me for a while, but not forever. Only a Perfect Crystal would provide any certainty for someone trying to contain someone of my level.

He probably thinks I can’t do anything because I’m a kid, even with my eyes. I reasoned, given how lazy Turk was asking. Idiot. Whatever. Everything’s going the way I planned.

“There you go, big guy.” Turk pat his horse on the side of its head before taking his place before me again at the fire. His voice was cheerful. The mood swings were unsettling—one minute a predator, the next a jester. “You try to break free yet?”

I frowned. “Why?”

“Because everyone does.” Turk pointed at the collar wrapped around my neck. “I saw the glow. Guess the trap still works even with your eyes.” He grinned. “Lucky me.”

I bit down on the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling. “As am I.”

The fire crackled softly, but its light didn’t reach far. Shadows licked the edges of Turk’s face, making his grin look too wide, too white. The canopy above swallowed the moon, and cold air needled through the leaves. I shivered, but not just from the chill.

“How’d you do it?” I asked when there was a lull. “Why am I here?”

“Do what? Capture you?” Turk gestured at me with his free hand while he licked the residue of food off his other fingers. “Easy. You saw. You let me into your home.”

“Before that.”

“Oh. It’s a boring story. You wouldn’t want to hear it.”

“Please. You look like you’re dying to brag.”

Turk laughed. “Do I? Guess I’m not a very good actor.” He slapped his hands on both his knees and leaned forward with a devious grin. “Do you think the Guild is the only organization that provides goods and services to those with money?”

“Of course not,” I replied. “They were just first and have the widest network. There are individual clans, solos, and specialty orgnaizations. No single organization can possibly have a monopoly on the concept of work. The Guild is more of a peacekeeping organization that organizes against monsters and demons throughout the world since it’s a common threat to all parties.”

“I’m not sure my employer likes smart girls, so you’ll have to work on that,” complained Turk. The fire crackled, subtly shifting shadows and light across his face like a wave. “But you’re right. But there are other, hmm, activities the Guild, the government, and society do not approve of. Murder. Drugs. Human trafficking, to a degree. When people desire those services, they turn to the Dark Market where clans like mine make our livings.”

Tart and Bydon had warned me about the Dark Market. Illegal trades, drugs, assassination-for-hire, trafficking of humans and devils. Entire economies that existed beneath the surface of what was considered normal. Hidden, but not secret. The world tolerated these systems the same way they tolerated rain—nobody liked it, but it was easy to live with and impossible to stop.

“So you’re a professional criminal,” I summarized quickly.

“I provide a service people are willing to pay a lot of coins for.” Turk shied away nervously, almost like a toddler. “I’m a bit of a gambler, so I’ve got debts with bad people. I’m always working to pay them off.” He raised his hands defensively and suddenly looked more like a teenager getting a treat. “Don’t get me wrong. I love my job. And I’m good at it. But, you know, background.”

“And you’re kidnapping me, a devil, to sell me into slavery because of your job and debt. I follow. Move on.”

Turk huffed. “Impatient, are we?”

“Why me?”

Turk crinkled his nose. “My client for this job is a little…particular. Nobles always have weird tastes.” He shrugged his shoulders like it didn’t matter to him at all. “He wanted a young, virgin devil girl around the age of ten. You fit the description perfectly.” He tapped his left temple with his middle finger. “I’m lucky I remembered you. Been to Sandy Branch a couple of times, and as soon as I got the job, I knew you’d be the right fit. From a small village, relatively unprotected, and mostly disliked by the residents.”

My face was expressionless. “I was the right fit? Where are you based? You’re working with nobles, and we’re probably headed to Port Prosper if I had to guess. You work there, yeah?”

Turk shrugged. “Perhaps.”

“I know that city has a massive slave market. You could have bought someone in Port Prosper who fit that criteria without having to travel.” I observed Turk closely.

Turk stuck his tongue over his teeth and rubbed them back and forth under his lips. He looked amused and perplexed. “You’re too smart for your age. And very weird.”

“So I’ve been told.”

Turk scratched the back of his head. “Like I said, the noble has particular tastes. If all he wanted was a devil girl, you’re right, he could have bought one in the market. But he didn’t just want any old devil girl. No, no, he wanted a young, pretty virgin that was naïve, well-nurtured, and impressionable,” he said. “Guy said he wanted to ‘break her in,’ his words.”

I shuddered.

“Finally! A normal reaction.” Turk leaned back away from the fire until his face was hidden entirely in the shadows. “Slave wouldn’t have been naïve or well-nurtured. They’d have meekly accepted their fate and moved on, waiting to die or be set free. You, on the other hand, have this little thing called hope. It’s in low supply amongst slaves, so, you know, I had to get creative when obtaining my product.”

My product, huh?

“The noble paid a lot because getting someone fitting his requirements meant stealing from a family, meaning traveling to the Devil Continent or the Broken Bits, scoping out a target, killing the target’s family, stealing the target, keeping it alive on the way back here, and giving her to the noble.” Turk groaned. “So much could have happened along the way. The kid could have been injured when you stole them and died halfway through the trip back. Disease could do the same thing. The experience might break them prematurely, rendering them useless. It’s a whole mess.” He lifted his hands. “When I realized I could source the product I needed locally, well, I was happy. And it cut the overall cost of the procurement.”

“And your brother?” My voice was cold. “The bandits? Were they even real?”

“Were they even real? Of course they were real!” Turk grinned. He wobbled back and forth where he sat. “A good lie needs something in reality to ground it.” He placed a hand on his chest. “My name’s not Turk, and my hair and clothes are a little different from normal. Even got my face shaped a bit with a mana-based product. Turk’s just a character I sometimes play when I’m in the area. Best to have multiple identities in my line of work. Cairo, my dear little brother, is a slave I bought to help me blend in when I went to nab you.” He frowned. “Until I saw those monsters hanging around.”

Monsters? I’m assuming he means Barcus, Jessie, and the other Trailblazers.

“You were hanging around with people who could kill me in seconds. Really put a damper on things,” complained Turk. “I had to rethink my whole plan. At first, I was just going to raid your house while you slept, kill everyone inside, and leave Cairo behind as a distraction to get slaughtered and throw off the scent.” He sighed. “I really trained him, you know. I told him I’d save him from slavery, teach him how to use mana, and give him a new life,” Turk said with a soft smile. “He used to thank me for every lesson. Practiced til his hands bled. Poor thing believed everything I said.” He chuckled. “You should’ve seen his face when I told him we were brothers. He cried. Said it was the best day of his life.”

A wave of something ugly rose up—rage, grief, disgust—I didn’t know what to call it. My chest tightened. My fingers flexed against the rope binding them involuntarily, seeking something to tear. My teeth ground together. I felt like my skin wasn’t mine.

In an instant, I crushed the feeling, inhaled, held my breath until it hurt, then exhaled. All of the sensations melted away until there was nothing left but coldness.

“I have a time limit, and waiting out the Trailblazers wasn’t an option.” Turk placed his hands over the fire. “I rounded up the local bandits, grouped them all together, and gave them a cause to fight for. All I needed was a reason for the Trailblazers to take them out and leave me behind.” He scratched his neck. “Admittedly, I could have done things differently and gotten the same results, but I really wanted to cut some dead weight where I could. Cairo was always destined to die here, so I played the sympathy card. Blasted a hole in his little stomach, worked my way up to tears, and tore into the village, screaming my head off.” He moaned happily. “That’s some of my best work, I’ll tell ya.”

“You were acting the whole time?” I questioned. “Impossible.”

“Look, some people get their rocks off from drinking or killing. I get it. Got those vices, too.” Turk’s cheeks turned rosy, and he unleashed an orgasmic smile. “Nothing feels better than lying and getting away with it. A great scam’s better than the reward at the end. The look people give you when they believe you? When they trust you? That’s the real high.” He grinned wide. “You feed them the bait, they eat it, they thank you for it. That’s power.” He hugged himself. “Ahhhh! That’ll keep me going for years to come! I mean, they felt so bad for me that they had two brats put me on suicide watch! And one of them was my target! What were the fucking odds?” He leaned forward. “I cannot overstate how easy this was.”

I always thought something was wrong with me, but I’m completely sane and normal compared to this guy. I realized. How can he even think like this? I struggle to comprehend how most people think, but I’m even less able to understand his thought processes. I don’t know if I want to either.

“Forest devils aren’t special,” I muttered, not knowing what to say after everything Turk told me. “You could have found a different one. Beast devils have more developed bodies.”

“You think the noble would want a kid if he cared about that kind of thing?” retorted Turk. “Dude’s a sick fuck, but he’s a sick fuck with a lot of coins. It’s actually better you’re a forest devil. You’ll have a childish build for much longer than another devil would. And your eyes are a plus. He might not kill you after. It’d be a waste. You’ll probably get passed around for a while before ending up in some wealthy family getting pampered for your power. Don’t worry.” He glanced at me. His eyes glazed over my body. “You are a little bit too developed for your age, though, considering what you are. How old are yah?”

“Ten.”

Turk crinkled his nose. “Thought so. Don’t believe it. You look almost fourteen.”

“I’m ten.”

Turk sighed. “Well, you said it.” He looked up. “Guy better not renege on me, or I’ll cut his balls off.”

He doesn’t know I’m an archdevil. This is purely a case of bad luck. I thought as I assessed everything Turk’s told me so far. He didn’t mention that he’s working with someone else. Confirmed that the bandits were bait. Cairo’s actually dead. I could wait a bit, let him reveal exactly who wants me. There’d be value in that. But I couldn’t stomach the idea and didn’t want to take the unnecessary risk. Once the mark is on me, I’m finished. I won’t be able to do anything.

“Feel better now that I told yah everything?” asked Turk with genuine curiosity. “It’s nice to brag. Even better to brag to the victim.” He cleared his throat. “Oh, and no hard feelings, kid. It’s business. You understand. Cairo’s death paid off my pursuers. You’ll pay off my debts. It’s just the cycle. You’ll get it when you’re older.”

“Not at all.”

“Well, you will when you get older.” Turk yawned. “I’m gonna go ahead and get ready for bed. Should probably give yah the mark first so you can’t do anything to me.” He grunted as he got off the ground and approached me. “Gonna hurt a bit. Hold on.”

Turk sat on the ground in front of me. He held open his hands, and his codex appeared. His concentration was totally on the pages as he flipped them.

The wind shifted. The fire sputtered and threw ash sideways. Turk’s shadow warped across the ground like something crawling. I felt the collar throb at my throat—tight, heavy, wrong.

One pulse.

Two.

It was time.

I surged mana into my body as fast and as concentrated on my neck as humanly possible. It surged like a thunderclap against sand.

The crystal shattered.

My mana flowed freely at my will, exactly how I wished.

“Huh?” Turk looked up, surprised. “Shit. Right. Eyes. Dammit.”

My hand was on his abdomen. “Goodbye.”

With the power of a charging bull behind it, I blasted air mana into Turk’s stomach. Blood splattered and hit my face the second I discharged the move.

Turk lifted off the ground. He soared over the fire, bounced against a tree, then slammed into another one before sinking motionless to the ground.

I stared at him for a beat longer.

“Better,” I said, satisfied.

Glancing around, I assessed my immediate environment, almost expecting something else to happen.

Nothing.

My body relaxed. I felt my gaze drift back to Turk. “Dumbass,” I muttered as I stood, wiping my hands on my knees and then stretching. “Just rambled on and on and on. Underestimated the shit out of me.”

I walked over to Turk and looked closely at him, fully expecting him to be dead. Blood streamed out of his face, and a giant branch had punctured his left side. On closer inspection, he was barely breathing and his eyes were half-closed as he groaned in pain.

“Need help?” I laughed, spun on my heel, and walked to his horse. “Thanks for the ride. I’ll treat him well. Have fun dying alone! If you’ve got any luck, you’ll bleed out before an animal or monster gets yah.” I looked back at Turk and winked. “Don’t say I never did anything for you. A chance to live, no matter how slim, is a chance. Besides,” I continued to walk away. “you bore me.”

I untied the horse from the tree and guided its lead out of the small patch of forest. Once we were on the main road, I turned the horse in the direction Sandy Branch should be, if I was right about where we were. I jumped on its back and grabbed the reigns.

I stared.

For a while.

A smile overcame my face. The road was clear, the horse was strong, and Turk was basically dead. I’d be home before sunrise. Maybe even smug about it. This would make for a great story someday—meaning a few hours some now.

“How do I ride a horse?” I asked myself.

As soon as I asked the question, an odd green mark began to glow under the horse's mane between its ears.

“What the—”

The horse’s head exploded into a mist of mana and blood.

The sound cracked the world open.

One second, I was holding the reins—then they were gone.

Warm liquid splattered my face, and something thick struck my shoulder. The air smelled like copper and ash. I couldn’t tell if I was screaming or if the horse was.

The force threw me. I hit the ground hard. Rocks jabbed into my spine. The breath fled my lungs in a single, sharp gasp. My hands burned from where the reins tore away.

For a moment, all I could do was blink through blood and smoke.

A cold, injured voice slithered out from the trees. “Good thing…I added that trap…even if it cost me…a pretty penny.”

Turk stumbled out of the forest like a corpse learning to walk. Every step looked like it might be his last. His shirt stuck to his skin with blood, and the place where the branch impaled him now glowed faintly with burn-shaped scars—half-healed but still leaking.

He coughed hard and spat something dark onto the ground before smiling. “Had to kill my fucking horse for you…so you’d better be worth it…bitch.”

A fist slammed into my stomach.

I gagged as the air was thrown out of me.

“Can’t hurt the face, but I can do whatever with the rest of yah. The bruising’ll heal before we get to Port Prosper,” remarked Turk with a crazed grin. “Guess I was too chummy with yah.”

I felt another collar get forced around my neck. Two more were clamped around each of my wrists.

“There we go!” cheered Turk. “Nice and secure.”

Another fist slammed into my stomach.

I screamed, rolled over, and threw up.

Turk grabbed my hair. “Ow.” He recoiled and dropped me. “What was that?” He grabbed my hair again and pulled it back taunt to the back of my head until my scalp was entirely visible.

And then I saw his face—the flicker of recognition, then hunger, as his eyes became entranced with my scalp.

No…

I felt the cold rush of dread—raw, ancient, deeper than fear. Not only did he recapture me again, but he knew what I was. An Archdevil.

It changed everything—for me and for him.

I watched Turk’s shock turn into a grin of pure, devilish greed that looked more like a painting than an expression a human could make.

My heart didn’t race. It stopped. The cold came first—then the heat. My secret, the horns, the thing I’d buried under years of silence, was suddenly his.

Shit.