Taken by Sin

CHAPTER TEN

Mandy and Michael had brought the demon into one of the hidden Realm of Light locations-this one fully equipped with a lab-so they could run some tests on the creature.

The demon had a wallet on him, with all the usual things a normal human would have, including a driver’s license and credit cards.

The demon’s “name” was James McAdams. He lived in the suburbs with his wife, no kids. Drove a nice car and had a job as a real estate developer, income in the mid six figures. He had a ton of credit cards with high limits.

“So who is this guy, really?” Mandy stood outside the lab now, pacing in front of the two-way mirror while they hooked up the demon to more wires, more IV’s, stuck more tubes and needles and doodads in the damn thing.

“Obviously a demon,” Michael said.

“But the I.D. was legit. Do you think this guy used to be human?”

“He has a full background. His fingerprints match his military record. I’d say that the demon in there is the same body that used to be the human James McAdams.”

Unbelievable. There was so much they didn’t know.

“This is bullshit,” she said to Michael. Poking and prodding the comatose demon was doing no good. How were they going to find out anything if they kept it unconscious? “Wake it up and let me go in there fully armed. Give me five minutes alone with that thing and I’ll get some answers.”

Michael shook his head, braced his feet in a wide, military stance, and faced the two-way mirror head-on. “Not the way it works around here, Mandy and you know it. There’s protocol.”

She scrunched her nose and stopped pacing, mimicking Michael’s stance as she, too, turned toward the mirror. “My way is more fun,” she grumbled.

Michael’s lips curved.

“Careful, Mike. You might have just smiled.”

He kept his focus on the activity in the lab. “Tell anyone and I’ll have you vaporized. I have a reputation to protect. My team needs to believe I’m an asshole.”

She snorted. “No worries there. I’m sure they’ll have no trouble buying into that.”

“With your help.”

“Of course.”

She studied the creature. It looked so human. She hated that.

“So what are they doing to it?” she asked.

“Testing blood and tissues, running MRIs and CT scans. Basically a full external and internal workup. We’ve never had a live demon to examine before. We want anatomical and physiological makeup on it, to see how, or even if, it varies from human.”

“And if it’s not at all different?”

He shrugged. “Then we’ll go at it another way.”

“Interrogation?”

“Yes.”

Groovy. Maybe she could help. She really liked interrogation. “Won’t it be able to disappear once it’s conscious, though? They have the ability to vaporize.”

“I know. We’re working on that.”

Leave it to the Realm to figure out a way to keep the demon from evaporating in front of them. If anyone could do it, it was the group of scientists who worked for the Realm.

The door opened and one of the doctors came out, handed Michael a clipboard, and went back inside. Michael flipped through the pages.

“Christ.”

“What is it?”

“Preliminary results from some of the tests.”

“So what do we know so far?”

“That if the thing lying on the table in there were human, it would be dead.”

She arched a brow and peered over his shoulder. “Really?”

“Yeah. All these lab results are insane. All way too high. Sodium, potassium, BUN, creatinine, glucose levels-everything is off the charts. There’s no way it should have been up and walking. A human would have been in a coma, or dead.”

He flipped the page. “Body temperature way below normal, too. No one with a seventy-five-degree temperature should be alive. And the freezing agent I injected into it wouldn’t have lowered its temp that much, so it was already cold.”

Mandy made mental notes of all these things that would help the Realm identify a demon. It frightened her to think the Sons of Darkness had come up with a demon that could mix with the human population in daylight. But at least they knew the demons had some characteristics that would allow the hunters to identify them.

“Anything else?” she asked.

“Not yet. Let’s hope we can come up with more, because it’s not like we can run lab work on every human in the population, or take their temperatures. And if there was one wandering around, chances are there are more.”

“In multiple cities.”

“Probably. We need to wake this thing up and ask it some questions,” Michael said.

“You really think it’ll answer?”

He shrugged. “Don’t know until we try. Let’s just hope we can be persuasive enough that it’ll be forthcoming with answers. Nobody wants to die. Not even a demon.”

Mandy was looking forward to that part. “So how soon will you wake it up?”

“We don’t want to wait too long. They’ll finish testing today. After that, we’ll figure out a way to keep its body temperature low enough that it can’t dematerialize on us, but will still remain conscious.”

“I can’t wait.”

“Neither can I.”

“Too bad we can’t use some kind of truth serum on it.”

Michael turned to her, a gleam of something absolutely wicked in his eyes. “Well, it is human in many ways, isn’t it?”

Isabelle did her best to avoid Dalton completely the next day. She made it a point to get up early, then left Dalton a note that she was going up to the main house to spend the day with Georgie. At least the storm had subsided and the power was back on now.

She had to get away from Dalton, couldn’t bear to be so close to him again. Not after what had happened between them last night, after what continued to happen between them. Getting closer, and him backing away at critical moments. She couldn’t continue to put herself through it.

Never again. She didn’t need any more reminders of what she was. She already knew.

Georgie tried to sit and talk with her, but Isabelle hadn’t gone there for probing into her psyche or emotions. She had gone to the main house to escape Dalton, and that included talking about him. Fortunately, Georgie didn’t push her, just put her to work in the basement stocking shelves of books. That at least kept her mind occupied, thoughts of Dalton pushed aside, if only for a while. She knew eventually she’d have to go back to the cabin and face him, but for now, she was busy and he wasn’t around.

“Is all this stuff for real?” she asked Georgie, filling shelves with books on the history of voodoo, then moving on to candles, cards, necklaces, charms, and incense.

“If you believe, it is. Magic can be very powerful.”

“What if you don’t believe?”

Georgie stood, smoothed out her generous cotton skirt, and faced Isabelle. “I would think, considering your background, you wouldn’t find much of anything unbelievable, Isabelle.”

She lifted a few zombie dolls from the box and cocked her head to the side.

Georgie offered an indulgent smile. “Everything has its purpose.”

“Zombies? Are there really zombies?”

“Are there really demons?”

“Touché, Georgie.” Isabelle placed the dolls on the shelf, realizing she wasn’t going to best Georgie in this game of Ripley’s Believe It Or Not.

“How come you’re so even-keeled?” Isabelle finally asked, leaning back on her heels after the box was empty.

“I’ve seen a lot, experienced much. In my family, you learn to get over your shock at an early age.”

“So as children you’re exposed to …”

“Voodoo? Of course. You can’t fight darkness without knowing it’s out there.”

“Forewarned is forearmed?”

Again that secretive smile. “Something like that.” Georgie pulled up a cushioned footstool next to Isabelle. “Some in my family are born with unique abilities, Isabelle. The ability to touch the other side, to bring forth magic that allows us to see other worlds.

“What we see, what we feel, is never a surprise to us. Even at an early age. We just accept it as reality and learn to appreciate its strengths and manage its weaknesses.”

“So you’re saying that’s what I should learn to do.”

“Those who are born with any sort of gift must learn to adapt. Some do, some don’t.”

Isabelle didn’t quite see how being part demon was a gift. “Those who don’t adapt fall into darkness?”

Georgie shrugged. “If you can’t control your dark side, it will swallow you up until there’s nothing left of the light.”

Isabelle understood that all too well; she often felt like she was falling into a hole and being swallowed up. Like her dream. “How do I control it? How do you all control it? If you have these … gifts, and darkness goes with the light, how do you strike a balance and manage to stay on the good side?”

“It’s not something that can be taught, Isabelle,” Georgie said, leaning forward. “You simply have to want the light more than the darkness. And then it’s up to you to work at it to make sure the darkness doesn’t take over.”

Isabelle breathed in, let it out slowly. “That doesn’t make sense. No one wants to be evil.”

Georgie smiled, shook her head. “Don’t they? Evil can be so very tempting. Sometimes goodness requires sacrifice. It’s not always pleasant. Evil is easier. There’s always fun stuff on that side.”

Isabelle frowned. “They do that on purpose.”

Georgie laughed, the sound like a trickling waterfall, a delight to the senses. “Yes, they do. There has to be a lure. Otherwise, why would people go down that road?”

Isabelle sat on the floor and rubbed her fingers across her forehead, suddenly so tired she wasn’t sure she could go on. “I don’t know, Georgie. Sometimes it seems like no matter what road I choose, it’s the wrong one.”

Georgie leaned forward and stroked her hair, not saying a word. The gesture was comforting, as if her touch alone had settled peace over Isabelle. Isabelle tilted her head back and smiled. “Your touch has some magic in it.”

Georgie’s eyes seemed to twinkle. “Does it?”

“You tell me.”

“Sometimes, magic is whatever you wish to believe it is. Your own future can be that way, too, Isabelle. Don’t ever give up on yourself. As soon as you do, they’ll know. And they’ll win.”

“I have been fighting this. I know I have.”

“You don’t have to do it alone, you know.” Georgie smiled. “Give Dalton the benefit of the doubt. He is a man, you know. He’ll make mistakes.”

Isabelle almost snorted at that. “Dalton knows exactly what he wants. And what he doesn’t want.”

“Does he?”

Now Isabelle was confused. “I don’t understand.”

“Neither does he. And Isabelle, he needs your help as much as you need his.”

“But-”

Georgie held up her hand. “Some things need to be experienced, not explained. Maybe you’re talking to the wrong person?”

Isabelle’s head was spinning as she made her way back to the cabin at dusk. Now she understood how poor Luke Skywalker felt in Star Wars. Having a conversation with Georgie was like talking to Yoda. The woman made no sense at all, talked in circles and left vague clues that Isabelle was supposed to unravel.

She didn’t like games, would much prefer that Georgie just slap her upside the head with the truth. Preferably in simple terms that she could understand.

“Some things need to be experienced, not explained,” she mumbled as she made her way up the walk toward the cabin. “What the hell does that mean?”

She thought spending the day with Georgie would provide some clarity. Instead, her head and her emotions were more muddled than ever. She needed a bath and a stiff drink. Maybe several drinks.

Dalton wasn’t inside when she walked in, which gave her some measure of relief. She wasn’t in the mood for confrontation or conversation. She’d done plenty of talking today and had no answers. She searched the liquor cabinet, fixed a vodka and cranberry juice, loaded it down with ice, and took it into the bathroom with her. Then she filled the tub with water and scented bubbles while she stripped. Once the tub was filled with steamy water, she climbed in and sank under the bubbles, lifted the glass to her lips, and took a couple huge gulps.

A stiff drink and a bath-the first things today that had actually helped. Within five minutes she was relaxed, eyes closed, her head leaning against the back of the tub. She emptied her mind of everything bugging her and just let it all go.

Really, she had to make another one of these drinks when she got out of the tub. It really helped. She lifted it to her lips and took another swallow, then smiled as it warmed her from the inside out. Perfect. A little buzz, the sweet smell of the bubbles, and a warm bath. She might just stay in this tub all night long. An empty head filled with some great vodka could do wonders to keep all the evils away.

“Oh. Shit. Sorry, didn’t know you were in here.”

Buzz kill. She opened her eyes and saw Dalton there, knowing her idea of heaven wasn’t going to last. “I’m in here.”

“I can see that now. When did you get back?”

She shrugged, not bothering to move. She wasn’t certain she could move, she was so content. Not even Dalton’s appearance could disrupt her nirvana. “Not sure. Twenty minutes ago, maybe.”

He leaned against the doorway and she made it a point not to notice the bulging muscles of his upper arms, or the way his shoulders glistened with sweat, or the streaks of dirt across his cheeks and neck. “What have you been doing today?”

“Did a little work out back for Georgie,” he said with a faint smile.

“Good for you.” She drained the glass and placed it on the floor by the tub.

“What are you having?” Dalton asked, picking up the empty glass.

“Vodka and cranberry.”

“Would you like another?”

She shrugged. “Sure.”

He returned a couple minutes later with two large glasses, handing one to her.

“Thanks,” she said, taking the glass he offered to her.

Then he leaned against the sink and took a couple long swallows of his drink.

“Uh, Dalton?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m taking a bath here.”

“I can see that.”

She rolled her eyes. “I give up.” She downed half the contents of the glass in two swallows. This day was just getting more and more bizarre. Maybe she’d just drink until she passed out. She decided to ignore him. Maybe he’d go away.

He didn’t, just continued to lean against the counter, looking damn sexy in his dirt-stained jeans that hugged his muscled thighs, his sleeveless cotton shirt that was filthy and sweat-soaked, and what parts of his body were visible were tanned from spending the day in the blistering sun. At least the parts of him that didn’t sport streaks of dirt-which wasn’t much of him.

“You need a bath yourself,” she said, realizing that she’d been staring at him, and that her body had a definite reaction to looking at him. Even grimy from head to toe, Dalton radiated sex appeal. So unfair, especially since it was obvious he wasn’t projecting it on purpose. She didn’t think he had any idea what he was doing to her. And it was a damn good thing all her pertinent body parts were hidden under miles of bubbles.

His lips curved, and she nearly groaned, but bit her lip instead.

“Is that an invitation?”

She frowned, looked away. “Don’t fuck with me, Dalton. I’m not in the mood.”

He drained his glass and set it on the counter, then stalked to the tub, taking his damn sweet time making his way toward her, even though it was only a few feet.

He crouched down and laid his arms on the side of the tub. “I’m not fucking with you, Isabelle.”

His face was only a foot from hers. He smelled sweaty, outdoorsy earthy, and all male. She found his scent not at all unpleasant, and rather arousing.

“Go away.” Her voice had lowered to nearly a whisper. She didn’t trust it not to waver. Damn him for making her feel like a woman. She should stand up and point him in the direction of the door. But she wasn’t all that certain she could, or would, ask him to leave.

Instead, he dipped his hands down the side of the tub into the water. “You don’t want me to go away.”

“Yes, I do.” She didn’t sound convincing, even to herself.

“I don’t want to go away.”

He waved his hands back and forth in the water, hovering so close to her left breast she felt the waves caress her nipple, harden it, and she had to stop breathing to keep from moaning. Really, this was ridiculous.

“I won’t ask you again.”

He pushed back and stood. “Then don’t ask.”

She wasn’t at all shocked when he drew his shirt off and undid the button of his jeans, then toed off his boots. He shucked his jeans and stood there gloriously naked in front of her, his cock in a semirigid state.

He made her mouth water, and her mind whirled with a mental list of about forty things she wanted to do with him in this bathroom, right now. But she couldn’t find her voice, and her limbs had become like lead. She could only watch as he stepped into the tub and situated himself at the opposite end, sliding his legs alongside hers.

She was pretty sure she’d stopped breathing, at least until he reached for her feet and set them on top of his rock hard stomach. Then she remembered to exhale.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

He smiled. “Taking a bath.”

“You could have waited until I was finished.”

“What fun is that?”

“Dalton, we tried this last night, remember?”

“Vividly.”

His low, husky voice tore away at the walls she’d spent all day carefully constructing. She jerked her feet away from his grasp and scooted against the back of the tub. Unfortunately, sitting up lifted her breasts out of the water. She sank back down. Dalton grinned, grabbed a washcloth and scrubbed his face and arms, then dunked his head under the water, splashing it everywhere when he surfaced.

Her bubbles were slowly disappearing. Dalton had a wicked gleam in his eyes that Isabelle found both disconcerting and hot as blazes. She drew her legs up to her chest.

“The water’s getting cold.”

He leaned forward and turned the faucet on. Hot water streamed into the tub at the same time he pulled the drain plug. “We’ll let a little of the cold water out, and refill with hot.”

She clamped her lips together, reached for the bubble bath, and poured more in. “You’re going to smell like a girl.”

He shrugged. “I don’t mind if you don’t.”

“I don’t intend to smell you.”

“Are you sure?” He started to move forward.

Isabelle held up her hand. “Stop.”

“Come on, I’m clean now.”

“Quit teasing me.” He kept coming. “Dammit, Dalton, I mean it.”

That stopped him. He leaned back and laid his arms over the side of the tub. Dirty, he was sexy. Clean and wet, he was devastating. And his legs brushing up against hers, his feet sliding along her thighs and butt, were way too distracting.

“I really think we should get out.”

“You go first.”

She huffed out a sigh. “Really. You’re acting like a juvenile. I’m not playing.”

“Maybe you should.”

“And maybe you should stop playing games with me.”

His expression straightened then. “I’m not playing games, Isabelle. I’m dead serious.”

“Were you serious last night?”

He had the decency to avert his gaze for a few seconds before looking at her again, dragging his hand through his wet hair. “I don’t know what happened last night.”

“I do.”

“You do.”

“Yes.”

“Then tell me.”

“Do I have to spell it out? I’m a demon. You’re a human. You find me repulsive.”

He cocked a brow, frowned, then had the goddamn audacity to smile. And even worse, he laughed. Hard, long, and loud. If she’d had a weapon nearby, he’d be a dead man.

“Okay, we’re finished here.” She twisted, searching for the bath towel. Naked or not, she was through sitting here being humiliated. She reached for the towel, but Dalton grasped her ankles and jerked her back so hard she almost slipped under the water.

“We’re not done, Isabelle. Not by a long shot.”

“Are you out of your mind?” She fought for balance, tried to tug her legs out of his grasp, but he had a strong hold on her. He wasn’t hurting her, but he obviously had no intention of releasing her. “Let me go.”

“No. I’m in here, and we’re going to talk.” He released one of her ankles, but only to grab hold of the other foot. He began to massage the insole with both hands. God, it felt so good. He had strong fingers, and knew just where the trigger points were on her foot. All she could do was glare, and at the same time melt under the sweet assault of his fingers.

When he finished that foot, he picked up the other and did the same thing.

“I don’t hear you talking,” she said, tapping her fingers on the edge of the tub.

“Oh, yeah.” He smiled. “Sorry, I got distracted.” He lifted her foot out of the water and kissed her toes, one by one. “You have really beautiful feet.”

“Stop that.” She squeezed her thighs together, trying to banish the sensations evoked by his tongue on her toes. “Talk, or I really am going to get out of the tub.”

He released her foot, his expression changing. “Okay. Look, about last night. I’m sorry. I backed off, and I had no reason to.”

He had every reason to and she knew why. “I’m a demon. I wouldn’t want me, either.”

“Would you let me talk?”

“Fine.” This was pointless. And she still couldn’t believe she was sitting naked in the tub with him.

“I’ve tried to keep my distance from you.”

She cocked a brow.

“Yeah, I know. Let me finish. I wanted to give you space to deal with what happened in Italy, but it was more than that.”

“I know.”

His lips curled. “No, you don’t know.”

“I do. It’s okay. You have no idea what you’d be dealing with. Before, on the yacht in Italy, when we made love, you thought you were making love to a human. Now, you know you’re not.”

“What?”

“I’m a demon. I could …well, who knows what I could do in the throes of passion, especially considering what’s been going on with me since we got here. The demon could come out when we’re in the middle of-”

“Did it last night?”

“What?”

“When I had you stretched out on the kitchen table last night, was it the demon writhing, moaning, and climaxing, Isabelle?”

Damn him for bringing that up, for causing heat to ignite as she remembered how it felt to be laid out on the table, to remember his hand and mouth on her and how he’d made her feel.

“Was it?” he pressed.

“No.”

“That’s right, it wasn’t.”

“Then why the hell did you stop?” She met his gaze evenly, refusing to look away, even though it embarrassed her to ask the question.

“Because I was afraid I’d go too far.”

That wasn’t at all the answer she’d expected.