An Eternity of Eclipse (9 page)

“Wh-what are you going to do to me?” I managed to ask, hugging the pillow tighter against my chest. Nervous beads of sweat started to form on my forehead. 

“You busted my lip, punched my jaw with an umbrella, nearly stabbed a hole into my stomach, and kicked me in the very place the rest of the female species under God’s creation adores and worships, you violent little minx.” I quivered at the hardened edge in his voice. “Can you imagine all the things I can do to punish you for even laying a finger on me?

I bit my lower lip while terror coursed through me. It would be a total lie if I were to say that I wasn’t afraid of him. As sexy and charming as the guy was, he was also inarguably intimidating. There was a powerful presence exuding from him, one that intimidated every human fiber in my body. I deduced right then and there that it must be embedded in our very genetic makeup as humans for us to fear Demons because in my particular case, this inherent fear couldn’t have been more alive and active.

Before my fear could manifest itself into pure paranoia, without warning, the “Demon” leaned in. His delicious smelling cologne coated around me as he extended a hand out. He tenderly removed my bangs from my eyes and tucked them behind my ear.

His captivating eyes held mine with an unspoken promise of sensual satisfaction. Lazily, his voice purred, “But I’ll forgive you if you give me a kiss to make it all better.”

“A k-kiss?” I spluttered out like an idiot.

“Just a small peck,” he compromised, his dark eyes glittering with carnality. He appraised my lips like they were the most fascinating things in existence. He leaned in closer, affording me the opportunity to make my amends. “Just a small kiss and I’ll be at your mercy again.”

“J-just a s-small kiss?”

I gasped.

I held my breath and stared at his tempting lips.

Fortunately, before the stupidity of my perverted sensibilities got the better of me, I found myself scrunching my nose in confusion when I registered something odd. 

Accusation flared in my eyes as a tidal wave of comprehension crashed onto me.

“Wait,” I observed out loud. “Why the hell is a Demon bleeding?”

His silence told me that this was where I got him.

He muttered a curse, the contents of my realization hitting him.

In an instant, he was resentfully straightening up. He rolled his eyes, bitter that I could still manage to think logically while he was trying to seduce me. He stuck an already lit cigarette between his lips. As he began to avoid eye contact with me, I felt the mindless sexual frenzy dissipate. It was as though he had turned off a switch and my once fogged mind was cleared.

My eyes sharpened. The way he awkwardly smoked that cigarette told me that he didn’t want to give me an answer. His avoidance and clear discomfort made me foolishly believe that I had the upper hand in this conversation.

“You’re not a Demon, are you?” I accused. I tossed the pillow away and jumped off the bed. I fixed a hard stare on him. I was feeling braver than I should have been, but when I saw the light at the end of the tunnel—one that basically said, “You might not be crazy after all!”—I rolled with it. “You drugged me the other night, didn’t you? You’re just some freak who has been stalking me and is trying to play games with me before you kill me, aren’t you?”

At this rate, I’d settle for him being the crazy one rather than myself.

Amusement tilted the edge of his lips. Letting out a little laugh, he wiped the blood from his lips, revealing the little cut that was still there.

“You’d probably be safer with a psychotic serial killer than with me,” he said lightheartedly, allowing a string of smoke to flow from his lips. The teasing tone in his voice threw me off. I had no idea if he was joking or not. “And your constant need to prove that one of us is crazy is amusing, but I have to end your endeavors there, Gracie, because I
am
a Demon and my reason for being here is still the same.”

“But why are you bleeding?” I inquired in desperation. I still wanted to believe that he was just some hot nutcase. “Do Demons really bleed?”

“Demons do bleed,” he told me wistfully. As though mirroring him in thoughtfulness, another cloud of pensive smoke escaped from his lips. “But from other more powerful and unsavory assaults. Never from getting smacked in the face by a sexy little minx who could rival banshees with her screams.”

My cheeks turned a dozen shades of scarlet from his subtle insult.

There was a small smile on his face while he projected another round of smoke. I was aware that the insult was used as his way of getting me back for kneeing his “special masculine pride.” I hardened the features of my face and let his insult roll off me. I hoped that my stern face would act as a catalyst for him to stop messing with me. I had bigger problems to deal with.

“Are you going to tell me or not?” I hotly prompted.

He spared a tentative glance at me and pondered for a few more moments. With a resigned exhalation, he miserably yielded with his secretiveness.

“I bleed because . . . I’m a Dimmed Demon.”

My eyes bloomed. This “dream” was getting far too elaborate for my peace of mind. I gaped at him, floored by the odd term. “Dimmed?”

He nodded, visibly unhappy with labeling himself as something so demeaning.

“What does that mean?”

“It doesn’t mean that I’m not the brightest Demon in the pack or that I’m a lower-class Demon,” he explained lazily. He paused to smile with pride at the thought of his own intelligence. “If anything, I’m actually one of the more calculating and intelligent Demons in my race—”

When I bestowed him with an icy glare that could rival glaciers, he got back on track.

“But back to the point. A Dimmed Demon is a Demon who retains only a small portion of his actual powers. Having only a small portion of his power means that he allows the inferiority of being human to momentarily take over his body.”

I still couldn’t comprehend the specifics behind whatever the hell he was babbling on about. My main concern was another question that was on the forefront of my mind: did he make the choice to become a Dimmed Demon or was he forced into it?

I gazed up at him suspiciously. “Is there a reason why you are a Dimmed Demon?”

“My power is”—he sighed, trying to think up the right explanation—“beyond anything you have ever known. What you see now is merely 30% of the powerful entity that I normally am. I am like the sun to your world. From a great distance, I do no immediate harm to you, but at close proximity, I’ll burn you alive. Other Demons, ones who are less powerful, are free to roam as they wish. For a Royal Demon, in order to be around you so frequently, I have to ‘dim’ myself and give myself more human qualities so no harm would come to you.” Slight resentment shrouded his face while he wiped the blood from his cut lip. “Pain and bleeding is the unfortunate side effect of wanting to be around you and not killing you.”

I blinked at him, slowly registering all the things he shared.

“I don’t believe you.”

A dangerous grin kissed his lips. “Really?”

“What Demon in their right mind would ‘dim’ themselves?”

Outwardly, my voice was critical, but inwardly, my insides were quivering from anxiety. Fear aside, there was absolutely no way I was this impressionable. Did he really think I would believe the crap he just spewed? Who in their right mind, Demon or not, would voluntarily give up a portion of their power?

“You being a Demon makes no sense; even your preposterous explanation makes no sense. None of this makes any logical sense.”

He gave me a blank look before dryly saying, “So some looney tune appearing out of thin air makes more logical sense to you than believing that I’m a Demon?”

I blinked at him.

Hearing him say that out loud made me feel like a total idiot. In spite of his pointed question, the desperation within me was still stubborn. It did not want to give up on the last ray of hope that my world hadn’t become this insane.

I couldn’t believe it; I really couldn’t believe it.

But then, as I looked at him and realized that he was still standing there, staring at me while waiting for me to say something, I found myself opening up to the possibility that there was an actual Demon in my bedroom.

My heart sank to my stomach.

Crestfallen, I fell onto my bed and covered my face with my hands in disbelief.

It was unquestionably official.

If this was my reality—where the spawn of Satan was here to convert me into a Demon—then I was really fucked.

“You can fight all you want . . .”
0
6: The Demon Persuasion
 

“I’ve lost it, haven’t I?” I asked wretchedly, my lips trembling from the weight of my reality crashing down on me. “When I was six, they told me I was crazy. I didn’t believe them then, but I think all the craziness has finally caught up with me because there’s absolutely no way in hell there is a Demon in my room. There is no way in hell his sole reason for being here is to turn me
into
a Demon.”

The Demon’s expression on me was kind. He, to some degree, sympathized with my desperation to not believe the bizarre truth. “You know this is real, Gracie.”

His simple statement made me realize that it was true. I couldn’t deny it any longer—there was no point. All of this was too real to be a figment of my imagination. Accepting this truth did not make me feel better. I hunched forward and buried my face in my hands again. I wanted to sob at the shittiness that was my life.

I looked up at him and fought to keep my voice steady. “But why are you here? Why did you choose me? Why do you have to turn me into a Demon? Why me of all people?”

“Because I want you,” he told me bluntly. He placed his cigarette on my desk and approached me. His powerful body much too close to mine, he sat down on the bed and said, “Unabashedly, shamelessly, and desperately. I want you, and unfortunately, I can’t have you if you’re human. I can only have you if you’re a Demon.”

“I-I don’t understand.”

“The body of a human woman isn’t made for the”—he paused to search for the right term—“stamina of a Royal Demon. Unfortunately in the realm of sex, you are like a bubble to me. If I have sex with you while you’re human, then it is almost guaranteed that you will die.”

The prospect of death was the only thing that roused me from my dazed state. If he could kill me because he was too powerful, then why was I letting him sit next to me—on my bed, no less? I propelled off the bed and pulled myself away from him. There was no way I was going down like this.

My horrified eyes gaped at him from the opposite side of the room. “Have you killed a lot of human women to know that?”

He laughed at my reaction, his gaze following me as I continued to back away from him. He leisurely rose from the bed. Taking slow steps as a predator would when going after its prey, the Demon stalked after me, mirroring my retreating steps with his subtle advancements.

“My brothers have had their fun with human women. Depending on which brother, some women die within a day, others take a week or a couple months before death claimed them. But because I am the Demon of Lust and because sex is my specialty and my power, it is likely that you would die after your first climatic experience.”

Death by orgasm
, I mused as I continued to tiptoe away from him. Talk about going out with a bang.  

“Wait,” I prompted when I truly absorbed everything he told me. “You’re doing all of this because you want to have sex with me?”

I couldn’t believe my ears and couldn’t believe the lengths someone would go to in order to get into my pants. Wow, this guy definitely put all the other sex-crazed males I had met to shame.

“Because I want you,” he clarified charmingly. His tone was innocent, as if his intentions with me were completely honorable. “Sex with you is just a very nice bonus.”

“How considerate of you for that clarification,” I mumbled sarcastically, still instinctively backing away from him.

“You should be honored,” he told me, sensing my sarcasm. There was amusement in his eyes as he watched me continue to back away from him. “No one has experienced my extravagant gifts, and because I’m putting in this much effort for you, you should be throwing yourself at me and thanking me for my thoughtfulness.”

I digested his words and paused when something didn’t make sense.

“Hold on,” I began, “you said no one has experienced your ‘gifts.’ D-does that mean you’re a . . . virgin?”

A sparkle of amusement appeared in his eyes. “In your terms, yes.”

I wanted to laugh at the irony of this scene—that the Demon of Lust himself was a virgin of all things. I wanted to laugh and perhaps not be so afraid of him and his sexual dominance because, you know, he hadn’t done
it
yet. I was in the process of feeling a bit safer around him when the Demon of Lust decided to remind me why he was so powerful.

“But make no mistake about it, Gracie,” he lectured, his voice as seductive and as dominant as could be.

In a matter of seconds, he closed the gap between us and stood in front of me. Stunned by his sudden closeness, I unknowingly backed into a corner and found myself trapped between the wall and his body.

He gazed down at me with sensuality glittering in his eyes. “I am your God, your Master, your King, and your Lord. I am the very embodiment of sex, lust, and passion at its rawest and most potent form. I am everything your fantasies could ever dream of. Don’t make the mistake of thinking that my ‘virginity’ will make me any less phenomenal than all the silly little boys you’ve been with. I’m the most experienced virgin you will ever meet, and when the time is right, I look forward to showing you the extravagance of being in my bed. And trust me, after you’ve had me, you will never spare a glance at any other man again.”

I gulped, silently agreeing with him.

Who was I kidding? His experience did not matter. In the end, every part of my womanly intuition knew his presence in bed would be unsurpassed by any other entity in existence. In essence, he didn’t need experience; he had the laws of nature kneeling before him in adoration, and no amount of experience could ever transcend that.

Although there was truth to his words, his intentions offended me greatly.

“You think it’s going to be easy to have sex with me,” I suddenly accused, feeling all my defenses rise up. Fidgeting with my fingers, I moved to the side and stepped away from him. “You think I’m just going to lie in bed and let you have your way with me and not put up a fight.”

He smiled coolly, taking note of the offense in my voice. “Seduction is part of lust, Gracie. I plan on giving you the full ride. I plan on wooing you, seducing you, and
inevitably
making you mine. I don’t know about you, but that sounds like a lot of work to me. I don’t think it will be easy to get you to sleep with me, but I think the journey to get there will be fun as hell.” He winked at me, his eyes playful, teasing, and extremely charming. “No pun intended.”  

“Well, sorry to burst your bubble, but I won’t have it,” I told him with inflexible determination.

I was turned on by him, yes. I wanted him sexually, yes. I was very close to ripping off his clothes with my teeth, yes, but desire aside, I also possessed self-control. I was a virgin for Christ’s sake. Just because my body was reacting to him positively didn’t mean that I was easy, and it certainly didn’t mean that I would sleep with any hot thing in sight. I refused to be some human sex-toy used for his pleasure. I wasn’t a hoochie and didn’t plan on ever being one for a Demon.

“I won’t have sex with you. I refuse.”

He merely nodded, feigning a tint of innocence in his eyes. “Thank you for the heads up, Gracie. I’m sure you won’t be too pissed off with a poor little smitten Demon for still wanting you, right?”

I bit my lips, finding it difficult to look him straight in the eye when he made himself appear so innocent, especially when I knew all too well that he wasn’t. He was trouble in its most magnetic form. I could never allow myself to forget that. “I’m just letting you know that it will be wasted effort.”

“That’s very considerate of you, but I’m known to be a persistent Demon. I don’t give up on anything once I’ve made my claim over it.”

By this point, my mind was already elsewhere. Something unnerving thrust into my thoughts. I looked at him with widened eyes. “If having sex with you while I’m still human would kill me, then why were you trying to have sex with me last night?” My eyes morphed into bitter slits. “Trying to kill me already?”

A guilty expression marred his usually cool and composed face. He sighed, nodding in concurrence at the idiocy of what occurred the night before.

“I admit that was idiotic on my part. Demons, even Royal ones, aren’t necessarily known for their self-control. Unfortunately in my case, I failed to control myself when I was with you.” His eyes then hardened with conviction. “I wouldn’t have gone through with anything if it got that far though,” he assured me, his voice genuine. “I only wanted to kiss you for a bit. I couldn’t resist, but I would’ve stopped before anything lethal happened.”

Anger raged inside me. I, too, recalled the idiocy of what happened last night. I recalled the “spell” he admitted to placing on me. I became more outraged. He took advantage of me. He forced himself on me against my will. Scathingly, I said, “You know, what you did to me last night could be considered attempted rape, if not rape itself.”

For the first time, his cool façade thawed. Offense twisted the features of his face.

“Rape?” he repeated, looking at me like I had slapped him across the face. Anger threaded his eyes. “How the hell was I about to rape you last night?”

“You placed a spell on me! You admitted it! You said that was the reason why I wanted you so much!”

“No,” he bit back harshly. “You asked me if I’ve placed a spell on you or ‘something.’ I admitted to the ‘something,’ which is the fact that I’m the Demon of Lust and the aura I give off is hard to resist. Nothing more, nothing less. I don’t force myself on women who don’t want me.” He looked at me critically, clearly wanting to bury this point home to subdue any other ideas I might harbor about him. “I don’t rape, Gracie. This may come as a big surprise to you, but some Demons do have some standard of integrity. The scumbag men of your race might resort to doing such revolting things, but the men of my race have too much of an inflated ego to resort to something so parasitic. We have pride. We are the more”—he tilted his head to conjure up the most appropriate word—“intelligent race and we try to uphold this notion by not doing something so demeaning and animalistic.” He passionately went on. “I never once placed any spell over you or forced you to do anything against your will—I don’t need to. I was seducing, and it’s entirely up to the will of the recipient whether they find me to be irresistible or not.” His accusatory eyes buried into mine. “This is all on you and your willpower, Gracie.”

I scoffed, not believing the state of my life. A Demon had not only insulted me and my race, but he was also throwing a dig at my willpower. What kind of ass-backwards reality had I been thrown into?

“Calling me weak-willed now?” I scowled at him.

Charm suffused his face when he noted that I was becoming more and more irritated. “Don’t be too offended, Gracie. You can think of our situation as you submerging yourself in water and getting wet. You do not want to get wet, but it is not up to you to control or to defy the bylaws of nature. Water is water—if you touch it, you will get wet. It's a fact and it's something you can't escape.”

His powerful shoulders shrugged in a prideful manner.

“I am lust in its most powerful form. The nature of who I am is that those who are close enough to me feel it—they feel nothing but lust. I can’t control who people lust after. That’s not in my nature. My nature is to simply radiate it. The actions people take around me—and who they want to take it with—is beyond my control. This means that you shouldn't be so hard on yourself. I am, after all, one of your cardinal sins. The temptation of me is understandably hard to resist, and if you ask me, I’m the best sin there is. You shouldn't feel bad for finding me to be so enticing.”

It took all my willpower to not roll my eyes. I was certain I was going to keel over from this guy’s big ego.

“You have a very big head,” I commented, unable to contain my irritation
.
“Did you know that?”

This made him laugh. He wasn’t offended by my comment. If anything, he was charmed by it. “Would you expect any less from the son of the prideful Lucifer?”

From what I heard about Lucifer and his oversized pride, I imagined it would only make sense if his spawn followed that same characteristic. I didn’t expect any less from the spawn of Satan himself, but I wasn’t about to accept it or allow him to think it was okay either.

“Do people actually like you?” I incited, wanting to hurt his feelings because I was still bitter that he insulted my willpower (or allegedly lack thereof). “Your oversized ego is a turn off.” I gulped uneasily and hastily added, “And I don’t like you.”

His lips lifted into a grin. Intent on getting back on my good side, he said, “Then I should endeavor to change your mind, shouldn’t I?” When I didn’t return his playful smile with a favorable reaction, the Demon sighed and said, “Don’t the people of your race have a saying? ‘Don’t judge a book by its cover’? Do you think it’s fair that you’re placing so much judgment on me when you don’t even know me?”

“You’re a Demon,” I dismissed. “Human sayings are not applicable to you.”

He made a rude noise at my dismissal.