I ran through the dark, lungs burning, legs aching. The ragged wounds on my chest were still bleeding, covered in mud. Twigs and stones cut my bare feet, branches whipped at my face. I didn’t know where I was or where I was going. The woods were endless, the darkness so potent that I couldn’t see more than a few feet in front of me.
I’d crawled out of the mine. I’d ripped off fingernails trying to grip the muddy, slick walls of the shaft. I’d screamed my throat raw calling for help.
This wasn’t a nightmare. This was all too real.
I stopped, my stinging feet stumbling as I came to a halt. The darkness was full of vague shapes, my terrified mind creating phantoms out of shadows. But there, ahead of me, a pair of golden eyes glowed in the dark.
I was rooted in place, my limbs frozen with fear. I didn’t know what it was, but I knew it wasn’t human.
I was still being hunted.
It had been a long time since I’d last set foot in Abelaum’s woods. The rich scent of the damp loam was tinged with mold, the sharp smell of the pines triggering a tightness in my chest that made it difficult to breathe. I stood at the edge of the trees, staring into the shadows, and all I wanted to do was run the other direction. The impulse overtook the entirety of my brain, a frantic scream I was unable to block out, every limb tingling with the sense of danger.
I waited, listening to the wind whisper through the boughs of the towering trees. I listened for the voice that would call to me. I waited for the cold shiver up my spine that told me when Its eyes were on me. The Deep One was trapped underground, but Its influence reached far beyond that: a network of roots that grew ever farther, greedy with hunger.
At least for tonight, the woods were quiet.
I was stone-cold sober. Tonight, I’d seal the deal. I knew now that it wasn’t just about my soul. Sex, power, domination — this demon was playing some sadomasochistic game where I was both the prize and the pawn. If that was what the demon wanted, if that was what would secure his help, so be it.
It sickened me that I felt attracted to him. He wasn’t something I should have enjoyed; he was something I should have dreaded. But I could so vividly remember how he’d felt inside me, how he’d tasted. My treacherous body craved the pain I’d experienced with him, the exquisite agony of being taken by a monster.
With a deep breath, I stepped into the shadow of the trees. My heart hammered against my ribs, aching with every step I took. This feeling was suffocating, but it wasn’t only fear. It was excitement. It was a bizarre thrill. It was erratic anticipation.
It was hunger and lust, and — strangely — hope.
I’d struggled for years to survive. I’d learned how to make myself into a weapon. But soon, I’d have a new weapon. I’d have the power to rival my enemies.
The demon hadn’t given me specific instructions. The longer I walked, my senses on high alert for the slightest unusual sound, the more my uneasiness grew. Every step was an internal struggle, a battle against my own mind. The darkness wasn’t safe, and I’d gone years knowing that once the sun set, I would be hunted.
But this hunt was a little different. This time, I needed to be caught.
The rain muffled all sound behind a haze of white noise. I kept my pistol at the ready, because despite the demon lurking on my heels, there were other monsters eager to have me too. Besides, if I happened to shoot Zane if he snuck up on me too suddenly…it would serve him right. I’d seen that wild joy in his eyes when he talked about pain and suffering.
Two sick fucks who enjoyed pain — one mortal, one immortal. What a goddamn pair we’d be.
There was a rustle of leaves overhead, and I almost fired off a shot as a bird beat its wings against the pine needles, scattering thick water droplets. I cursed under my breath, wiping the excess water from my face. I moved the flashlight over the thick brambles nearby, but the beam couldn’t penetrate far enough into the dark.
A chill crept up my spine. I wasn’t alone.
“Poor little wolf. Nervous, are we?”
I whirled around, gun aimed. Empty darkness greeted me, and I grit my teeth as I willed my pounding heart to calm. “Don’t fucking play with me,” I muttered.
Laughter echoed through the trees. It came from all around me, but the voice that followed sounded as though it were spoken right in my ear, “Oh, Juniper, playing with you is exactly what I’m going to do. I’ve just got myself a new pet; it would be a waste not to play with her.”
I didn’t turn. He wouldn’t be there anyway. I lowered the gun, forcing myself to slip it back into its holster despite my twitchy fingers’ desire to pull the trigger. More laughter followed, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw fiery eyes flare to life in the dark.
“Don’t tell me the little wolf isn’t going to bite?”
I turned my head, slowly. Zane stood between the trees, his body giving off enough heat that steam was rising from his skin in the rain. He had one hand leaned against the cedar beside him, and as he stepped toward me, he sliced his claws through the wood and left deep gashes in the bark. I stood my ground as he suddenly increased his speed, moving so fast he seemed to vanish for a split-second. When he reappeared, he was standing over me, one large hand wrapped around my throat, claws digging into my skin.
“Are you ready, Juniper? For a deal sealed in blood?”
I nodded rigidly, trying but failing not to stare at his teeth so close to my face. They were vicious fangs, designed to tear into flesh. A predator’s jaw. I forced my eyes back up to meet his and said, “The terms first. Tell me the terms.”
I knew demons could twist one’s words. Deals with them were risky, because they would do anything to find loopholes around fulfilling their end of the bargain. It suddenly occurred to me that I should have come more prepared. I should have written this down. If I could have afforded a lawyer, I would have had them draw up these terms for me. If any such lawyer existed that wouldn’t think I’d absolutely lost my mind.
But instead, it was just me, my uncertain words, and the demon grinning over me.
“Alright,” he said, not giving me even an inch of breathing room. He was wild tonight, his last efforts at pretending to be human having fallen away. He looked at me with hunger, with rabid desire. “I offer my help, in whatever ways I am able to give it, to destroy the Libiri cult. I offer to not end your mortal life by my own hand. I offer not to cause you harm beyond the harm that you want.”
I considered every word. I tried to find any possible loophole for him to wiggle his way out of, but my mind was preoccupied with the scent of him, so dangerously close. How could I think clearly with his hand around my throat, or with his body pressed against mine? “Part of the deal is that you won’t kill me? Really?”
“It’s a formality,” he said softly. “One you should appreciate.”
“And not causing me harm, except what I want? What the hell is that?”
He grinned, all sharp teeth. “You know exactly what that is. Think of it as a built-in safeword. I won’t hurt you, if you don’t want it.”
I was overthinking, but I couldn’t help it. I was about to sign away my soul. There was no coming back from this. My heart thundered, as if it wanted to burst from my ribs and run: run from these woods, from this town, this state. Run and run, as I’d been doing for years.
But this would never end if all I could do was run.
“And in exchange?” Zane widened his eyes. “What do you offer, little wolf?”
“My soul,” I said. Then, baring my teeth at the nastiness of it, I said, “And my body, to use as you please, unless you would cause me harm…beyond what I want.”
His claws tightened, and I forced the whimper that wanted to rise out of me back down my throat. “Would you also care to include an offer not to kill me?”
“No. That’s not a promise I’ll make.”
He tsked, shaking his head. “Ooh, dangerous. I’ll never know if you’ll try to murder me when I least suspect it.” He shuddered dramatically. “What a thrill.”
I tried not to look down, but it was hard to avoid the sight of the bulge in his jeans, especially when it was pressed up against me. “You’re one sick fuck.”
“That’s what keeps things entertaining: sick fuckery. Just wait until you get to Hell. We’ve built entire cities around maximizing everything sick and fucked.” He chuckled, and I had the feeling that I was missing out on a joke. Probably because I’d never seen Hell.
I’d never seen his Hell. I’d seen a Hell all my own.
“So…” He drew closer, his lips mere inches from my skin. “Are you ready to bleed for me?”
Anticipation gnawed at my stomach, and my hands would have shook if I hadn’t clenched them into fists. My emotions were a tangled knot, tightening uncontrollably. I’d fought with everything I had to keep my soul, and now…now I was giving it away, like mere currency to be exchanged.
I’d faced worse. I couldn’t back down now. “How do we do this?”
“Demonic bargains are sealed with blood,” he said, and his hand eased away from my throat. I breathed out deeply, slowly. “Such a brave little wolf you are. I wonder if you’ll cry when you bleed.”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” I scoffed. I reached down to where I kept my knife tucked into a sheath strapped to my thigh, and tugged it out. “Fine. Where do I —”
“Put your little toy away,” he said, his voice deepening as it had when I first arrived, to reverberate around me, seemingly directionless. He stepped back, held up a clawed hand, and the air morphed between his fingers, like heat over the road in summer. From within the vague shimmer, the shape of a blade appeared, slim and iridescent, smooth as glass. I blinked rapidly, certain my eyes were tricking me.
He grinned at the shock on my face. “What? Never seen a blade formed of aether before?”
“I don’t even know what the hell that is.”
“It’s the same matter I influence when I do this…” A sensation pressed against my back, like fingers playing over my skin despite no one touching me. The phantom fingers trailed up my neck and tangled in my hair, the sensation so real that I twitched away and reached for the back of my head.
“Some call it the fifth element,” he said. “It takes practice to form anything solid with it. Practice, several centuries, and a few dozen souls claimed for Hell. It’s a talent, really.”
God, he had an ego too. Considering the knife in his hand, I tried not to roll my eyes. “What now? You cut me and we’re done?”
He took a step forward — and I took one back, automatically, instinctually. He stopped, eyes narrowed, and extended the blade toward me. He tapped the sharp tip beneath my chin, the surface as cold as ice, tingling lightly on my skin. It shone with pale, innate light, even in the darkness beneath the trees.
“I’m going to take my time with you, Juniper.”
That simple sentence sent a shudder over my entire body.
“You’ve had your soul offered before, to another,” he said, staring at my chest as if he could see the scars there through my shirt. “It was an unwilling offering, but the method is not very different, whether one is offered to a God or a demon. You were marked with Its name, your blood was spilled for It. But since you weren’t willing, God would have had to have you in Its clutches to claim you. Here, tonight, you’re willing.” His eyes met mine, and that vicious hunger in them seared into me. “You will spill your blood for me. You’ll mark my name in your flesh. And it will be done.”
“I have to do it myself?” I tried not to keep looking at the blade, shining at my throat. I hated the way my stomach twisted at the sight of it, I hated the panic creeping up in my gut. My mind screamed with the memories of another knife, in another time.
“Are you scared?” His voice softened, almost tenderly. What the hell did he care if I was afraid?
“I’m not scared.” I swallowed hard. “It’s not fear.”
It wasn’t fear, no. It was my clenching gut, my cold lungs, my trembling hands and light head. It was a battle I fought in silence, a war against my own mind. I couldn’t back down now, I had to face this.
“Don’t you want control?” Zane stepped back and flipped the blade so that the handle faced me. He watched me curiously, as if I’d presented a puzzle he couldn’t figure out. “It’s not required to be done by your own hand.”
“Then you do it,” I said quickly. “I can’t. My mind won’t let me, it…” I had to pause. My voice couldn’t shake. Not now. Get it together. “Bad memories.”
“Mm, I see.” He began to pace slowly, flipping the knife. He’d catch it by the blade, then by the handle, over and over. “I can do it for you, if you wish. But can you bear to let me?”
My eyes fixated on the blade, but I wasn’t truly seeing it. Instead, I saw my own blood. I heard my own screams of pain. I saw the old beams of the church around me. I could smell the fire and the dust. I could still feel the cold disregard of all those who had watched in silence as I suffered.
My head was spinning. I dug my nails into my palm in an effort not to pass out. Suddenly his heat drew closer to my back, his breath on my neck.
“You came here willingly, Juniper,” he said. “But unwilling memories are all you can think of.”
He was right. I was spiraling, and I couldn’t pull myself out. I squeezed my eyes shut, but it didn’t help. I clenched everything as tightly as I could, focusing on every muscle, reminding myself of where I was. Clench tight, hold. Relax one muscle at a time.
But I couldn’t run from memories. I couldn’t hide. I couldn’t erase the sight of that knife slicing open my skin, my blood running down —
A claw traced along the nape of my neck, caressing my spine. It jolted me back to reality so hard that I gasped, my eyes flying open. I could hear the wind in the trees again, and the sound of the rain falling around me. The drops were blessedly cold on my flushed skin.
“Allow me to help you defeat your first enemy, little wolf.”
