Once more, I was thoroughly restrained. When the third man reached out and grabbed my wrist with his bare hand, there was nothing I could do to avoid the grip. He just stood there beside me, holding my wrist and glaring at me.
And then I felt it. A tingling sensation where his hand gripped me. Tingling that turned to burning. Burning that turned to agony. I screamed, but he didn’t let go, and the pain kept getting worse. Even worse than the pain was the awful, creeping, slimy sensation that accompanied it. It wasn’t a physical sensation, but it was just as visceral. It was as if something dirty—no, filthy—was sinking into my skin, penetrating my flesh and oozing into my bloodstream.
I screamed until I had no voice left, as that creeping crud crawled through my system, thick and unclean and smothering. It surrounded me, clinging to my skin like liquid cobwebs, then trying to force its way inside me. It slithered into my mouth, choking me. It oozed into my ears, deafening me to my own screams. It penetrated other places, too, but my mind jerked away when that memory tried to surface.
The demon tried every trick he could imagine to break through my defenses, to find a crack in my armor. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get a firm hold, and he finally had to give up.
I was gasping for breath, my heart banging against my breastbone as if it were trying to escape my chest. I wanted to vomit, but I couldn’t turn my head far enough and I was afraid these bastards would let me choke on it. I swallowed convulsively to keep my gorge down.
The demon who’d tried to possess me shook his head and turned to Cooper. “I can’t do it,” he admitted. “But maybe a royal could. We should have Raphael try.”
“I don’t think Raphael wants to be a thirteen-year-old girl,” Cooper responded.
The demon shrugged. “He doesn’t have to stay in her. Just find out if he can get in.”
But Cooper shook his head. “She doesn’t have enough of her father’s advantages to make it worthwhile if only a royal can take her. I’m afraid this strain is a dead end.”
I lay on the table, shivering and sweating, fighting the nausea, barely conscious. Feeling like I would never be clean again in a million years.
The demon turned to me with an unpleasant smile. “What a shame,” he said. Then he reached out and pinched my nose with one hand while covering my mouth with the other.
“Don’t,” Cooper said calmly as panic seized me and I struggled with what little strength I had left.
“Why not?” the demon asked, showing no sign that the idea of suffocating a child to death was in any way bothersome. “We can’t afford to have her spreading stories.”
I was already seeing spots in front of my eyes.
“She won’t,” Dr. Neely said. “With all these drugs, she’s unlikely to remember anything. And even if she remembers, we can say they were nightmares. It’s not like anyone can prove anything.”
“I’d rather not take chances,” the demon said.
Darkness crept in at the edges of my vision.
“Killing her is taking a huge risk,” Cooper argued. “I promised her parents she wouldn’t be hurt. If she dies, they could raise a stink. And they know enough to make a hell of a lot of trouble.”
The demon looked indecisive.
“Why don’t we ask Raphael what he wants us to do with her?” Cooper suggested. “If he wants her dead, we can still take care of it later.”
With a sigh of what sounded like disappointment, the demon released my nose and mouth. I sucked in several glorious gasps of air before I passed out.
CHAPTER 21
I came back to myself still in Lugh’s living room, the afghan tucked comfortably under my chin as the fire did its best to dispel the lingering chill. I shivered and clutched the blanket around me, wondering if I would ever get warm again.
Anger usually warms me up great, so I tried to summon a healthy dose of indignation to throw at Lugh. I didn’t know exactly what he’d done to me to break the walls around those memories, but it had been a dirty trick. I turned to look at him, ready to let loose with some choice words, but none would come to me. My skin still crawled with the remembered sensation of the demon trying to get inside me, and I shuddered. No wonder demonic possession had been my worst nightmare after that little episode! And how ironic to discover I apparently owed my life to Raphael’s mercy. If you’d have asked me before, I’d have sworn he wouldn’t hesitate to kill someone so potentially dangerous, even if I was only a child. And if my parents made trouble, he could have killed them, too.
Lugh drew me into his arms, and I was too miserable and shaken to object. His body was a solid, protective wall of warmth, and he smelled delicious. I closed my eyes and buried my head against his shoulder. His hair tickled my cheek as he rubbed his chin on the top of my head.
“You bastard,” I mumbled into his shoulder, and his arms tightened around me.
“I’m sorry. But your defenses were weakened. I had to find out what happened before you shored them up again.”
“You shouldn’t have made me remember that.” My words probably would have had more conviction if I weren’t cuddled in his arms at the moment, but I needed the comfort too much to pull away.
His fingers caressed my hair, my neck, my back. “I did what I had to do. And whatever you might think, keeping that memory locked away and not dealing with it is not the best way to heal.”
I shook my head. “So you did it to heal me? Is that what you’re saying?”
His regretful sigh made me feel childish. “You know why I did it.” His hand cupped my cheek, and he pushed me away a bit so he could look into my eyes. “You’ll be all right,” he assured me, giving me a gentle smile that warmed me in ways the fire couldn’t. “You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for.”
I closed my eyes. It was so easy to fall under his spell, to let myself relax and open up in his presence. Something deep inside me longed to let go completely, to entrust myself entirely to his care—to stop always being so vigilant and guarded. But while the idea tempted me, it also scared the shit out of me. My experiences in life had taught me that you trusted people at your own peril, and I was determined not to endanger myself.
I started to pull away from him, trying to disentangle my body from his while searching out the familiar anger that had always served as my most effective shield. But he just held me tighter, until I could barely move. My eyes popped open.
“What are you doing?” I asked, and my voice was little more than a squeak.
His sensuous lips curved into a smile, but he didn’t say anything. Holding the back of my head, he bent his own head toward me. With a shock, I realized he was planning to kiss me.
Once again, I tried to pull away, a little harder this time. But his grip was like iron. If he didn’t want me to move, I wasn’t moving. The thought sent a chill of fear down my spine. If there was anything I hated, it was feeling helpless.
He hovered in front of me, lips maybe an inch from mine, his unique, spicy scent flooding my senses as he draped one leg over me to hold me even more securely, intensifying my feeling of being trapped. My heart thudded awkwardly in my chest, and my breaths came quick and short. Goose bumps prickled my skin, and I think I was even trembling.
But as he closed that final distance between us, as his lips touched mine, I felt a fire burning low in my belly. I made an incoherent sound, half protest, half pleasure, as he feathered kisses over my lips. I wanted to tell him to get the hell off me, but when I opened my mouth to say the words, nothing came out. I tried once more to squirm out of his grip, but I couldn’t. And though it seemed completely out of place in this context, a bolt of arousal shot through me. He took advantage of what he must have considered an invitation and slid his tongue into my mouth.