Now, she nodded. That explained so much. She’d seen her captors’ faces morph into skeletal beings. She’d been flown through the city cradled in the arms of a winged man. She’d seen fangs elongate and claws sharpen. She’d heard growls and screams of pain and torture.
Demons. Like the ones in her dreams, her secret paintings. Had she somehow known, even as a little girl, that she’d end up in Budapest with Reyes and his friends? Then later, with this man? Had the nightmares she’d always battled been a means of preparing her for this?
“Yes. Oh, yes. You believe. You see the truth.” Stefano stalked toward her, hate radiating from him. That hate transformed him from calm and friendly to menacing beast. “Death is a demon. Destruction is a demon. Disease is a demon. Every evil deed the world has ever known, every evil that has ever transpired, can be traced to their doorstep.”
The closer he came to her, the more she shrank into the mattress. “Wh-what does this have to do with me?”
“So no one you’ve loved has died? Nothing you’ve owned has been destroyed? No one has ever lied to you? Sickness has never plagued you?”
“I—I—” She didn’t know what to say.
“Still aren’t convinced of their treachery? One of those demons seduced my wife. She was all that was pure and right and never would have betrayed me on her own. Yet somehow, some way, the very demon spawn who tricked her into bed convinced her that she was evil, that she needed to die. So she killed herself, and I was the one to find her body hanging from the rafters of our garage.” Each word sharpened his voice. His jaw had become granite.
Danika knew the pain of discovering a loved one dead. She’d been the one to find her grandfather after his heart attack, and the image of his pale, lifeless body still haunted her, tainting the memories of the vital man he’d once been. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”
Stefano gulped, seemed to gather his composure around himself. “That loss gave me a purpose in life—one I share with thousands of others around the globe. While the Lords are darkness, we are light, and we were not meant to endure the evil they have brought into this world. Our world,” he added. He closed his eyes as if he could taste the delicious flavor of his hope. “Once we capture the Lords and contain their evil once and for all, things will be as they were always meant to be. Beautiful…peaceful. Perfect.”
Keep him talking. Keep his thoughts off you. “Why capture? Why not kill them?”
Slowly his eyelids cracked open, the happy glaze already fading from his irises. He stared at her, seeming to probe her soul. The sensation was eerie. “Killing them frees the demons inside them, allowing those vile beasts to roam the earth crazed and unfettered. We need man and spirit bound together.” He shrugged as if he didn’t care, but his gaze razored. “Until we find the box, that is.”
“Box?” Trying to appear relaxed, she wiggled her wrists against the chains. They were still too tight, but her skin was wet with sweat. If she could just slip free…She could, what? Run? Demons were chasing her family. Not humans. Would her loved ones ever truly be safe?
“Pandora’s box,” Stefano said, still watching her intently.
Her eyes widened, and she stilled. Is this a dream, perhaps? Another nightmare? “You’re kidding, right?” Her grandmother used to tell her stories about Pandora and her infamous box. “That’s a myth. A legend.”
He crossed his arms over his chest, stretching the fabric ofhis shirt and defining the lean line of his muscles. Obviously he trained with weights and weapons, just like the Lords. “And demons do not walk the earth, I suppose?”
Her stomach tightened with dread.
“I’ll tell you a story, all right? Listen closely.”
He paused, waiting. She nodded, hoping that’s what he desired.
Obviously, it was. He said, “A few hundred years after the creation of the
Demons. Like the ones in her dreams, her secret paintings. Had she somehow known, even as a little girl, that she’d end up in Budapest with Reyes and his friends? Then later, with this man? Had the nightmares she’d always battled been a means of preparing her for this?
“Yes. Oh, yes. You believe. You see the truth.” Stefano stalked toward her, hate radiating from him. That hate transformed him from calm and friendly to menacing beast. “Death is a demon. Destruction is a demon. Disease is a demon. Every evil deed the world has ever known, every evil that has ever transpired, can be traced to their doorstep.”
The closer he came to her, the more she shrank into the mattress. “Wh-what does this have to do with me?”
“So no one you’ve loved has died? Nothing you’ve owned has been destroyed? No one has ever lied to you? Sickness has never plagued you?”
“I—I—” She didn’t know what to say.
“Still aren’t convinced of their treachery? One of those demons seduced my wife. She was all that was pure and right and never would have betrayed me on her own. Yet somehow, some way, the very demon spawn who tricked her into bed convinced her that she was evil, that she needed to die. So she killed herself, and I was the one to find her body hanging from the rafters of our garage.” Each word sharpened his voice. His jaw had become granite.
Danika knew the pain of discovering a loved one dead. She’d been the one to find her grandfather after his heart attack, and the image of his pale, lifeless body still haunted her, tainting the memories of the vital man he’d once been. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”
Stefano gulped, seemed to gather his composure around himself. “That loss gave me a purpose in life—one I share with thousands of others around the globe. While the Lords are darkness, we are light, and we were not meant to endure the evil they have brought into this world. Our world,” he added. He closed his eyes as if he could taste the delicious flavor of his hope. “Once we capture the Lords and contain their evil once and for all, things will be as they were always meant to be. Beautiful…peaceful. Perfect.”
Keep him talking. Keep his thoughts off you. “Why capture? Why not kill them?”
Slowly his eyelids cracked open, the happy glaze already fading from his irises. He stared at her, seeming to probe her soul. The sensation was eerie. “Killing them frees the demons inside them, allowing those vile beasts to roam the earth crazed and unfettered. We need man and spirit bound together.” He shrugged as if he didn’t care, but his gaze razored. “Until we find the box, that is.”
“Box?” Trying to appear relaxed, she wiggled her wrists against the chains. They were still too tight, but her skin was wet with sweat. If she could just slip free…She could, what? Run? Demons were chasing her family. Not humans. Would her loved ones ever truly be safe?
“Pandora’s box,” Stefano said, still watching her intently.
Her eyes widened, and she stilled. Is this a dream, perhaps? Another nightmare? “You’re kidding, right?” Her grandmother used to tell her stories about Pandora and her infamous box. “That’s a myth. A legend.”
He crossed his arms over his chest, stretching the fabric ofhis shirt and defining the lean line of his muscles. Obviously he trained with weights and weapons, just like the Lords. “And demons do not walk the earth, I suppose?”
Her stomach tightened with dread.
“I’ll tell you a story, all right? Listen closely.”
He paused, waiting. She nodded, hoping that’s what he desired.
Obviously, it was. He said, “A few hundred years after the creation of the
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