Page 64 of Demon’s Temptation

Her heart shattered into a million pieces. “I just…I need time to think.” She turned to leave, but something slammed into the back of her and forced her to grab for the doorframe to keep her footing.

When she turned back, she realized Brent hadn’t moved. The blow hadn’t been a physical one. Emotion flowed from him in suffocating waves, battering then knocking down her own block, bombarding her with his pain and turmoil. If she hadn’t been holding the door, she would have fallen to the floor. What she’d taken from him during sex had been nothing compared to this. He’d still been holding so much back.

It was too much, all that he kept locked inside. His stare collided with hers, and horror covered his handsome face at the realization of what was happening, that she felt it all, his pain, fear, humiliation, rage, lust…love.

He truly loved her.

Brent stayed frozen, completely paralyzed as she lurched from the room, desperate to escape it.

She needed air, needed the emotion hammering her to stop filling her—shit, being trapped inside her. She couldn’t think, could only feel. Using the wall for support, she headed for the exit. The room felt suffocating. Struggling to process Brent’s emotion, she stumbled out to the alley. It filled her, swam through her, until she could scarcely breath and couldn’t think straight. She needed to get away from the club. Her block had crumbled and there was no slamming the door again, not with what was going on inside her.

Using the rough brick wall for support, she made it out onto the street. She’d barely gone half a block when a car pulled up beside her.

Victor climbed out and raced toward her. “Chaya, Jesus, what’s happened to you?” He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and she was too weak to fight him off. “Come on, let me give you a ride home.”

Words wouldn’t form. Her mouth wouldn’t move, wouldn’t voice her refusal.

This male was somehow involved with what Brent had gone through. A monster who preyed on the weak.

And, oh God, he was leading her to his waiting car. She tried again to fight, but nothing happened. She couldn’t move. Her body and mind were struggling to process the new emotions swirling inside her. Her legs gave out, and Victor swung her up into his arms.

Then everything went dark.

Chapter 17

Brent jolted, like someone had shoved an electrical charge into the base of his spine.

Chaya.

What the hell have I done?

Seeing her had shaken him from the haze and he was slowly regaining control.

Someone had set him up, had targeted him.

Fuck, he needed to find Chaya.

He shoved through the crowed gathering and ran after her. She was in serious danger. He couldn’t lose her now, not now. She was every fucking thing to him.

He searched the club, but he couldn’t see her, couldn’t feel her.

His stomach twisted. She was out there on her own.

Heart pounding, he pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed her number. It went straight to voice mail. “Chay, please call me back. I need to know you’re okay.”

Cursing, he disconnected and ran for the exit. The only other place she could be was her apartment. His phone vibrated and he yanked it from his pocket. Chaya’s name flashed on the screen. Thank God. But when he answered, he realized it was a video call.

Victor’s face filled the screen.

“Sorry, Chaya can’t come to the phone right now. She’s a little tied up.” The camera moved and landed on her. She lay motionless on what looked like the back seat of a car.

“Chaya, sweetheart?” She didn’t speak, didn’t struggle, eyes lost and glazed. It was more than fear. There was something else causing her to withdraw, to sink inside herself. She whimpered and he called out to her again.

The camera came back to Victor. “There, you see. So far she is unharmed.”

“What do you want?” Brent snarled.

All traces of humor slipped from the guy’s face. “You have no idea, do you, my boy?”