Page 31 of Infernal Bindings

“You don’t need to apologize,” he says. “The grounding stone was my idea. I would like you to promise me something though.” Christopher leans forward on his pristine white couch and takes my hands in his. His white outfit blends almost seamlessly into the rest of the condo.

“Anything.” Within reason, I silently amend. I’m not about to hurt Daemon, or use my time in Hell to spy for our coven, even if he begs me.

But that’s not what he asks. “When all of this is over, I need you to choose. You can’t be a light witch and friends with Daemon, and I can’t—I won’t—share you with him forever. I want you to be baptized and spend forever at my side, and I want you to want that too.”

“I—” Daemon’s been a part of my life for so long. I know what he’s asking isn’t unreasonable, and I know it’s not fair to flirt with Daemon while being mated to Christopher, but it’s so damn hard to imagine cutting him off entirely, even for my mate. Still, I don’t want to lose Christopher either; he’s the man I’m supposed to be with.

It’s an impossible and untenable situation.

I open my mouth, but before I can say anything, my phone chimes. Fishing it out of my pocket, I read the text from Daemon that says he’s here—not in Christopher’s condo, but in the parking garage outside. It’s for the best. A coven elder inviting a demon into his home would be borderline sacrilegious.

“We’ll talk about this later?” I ask, still holding onto Christopher.

“Of course.” Tenderly, he brings my hands to his mouth and kisses the backs of them, then ghosts his lips over my tattoo. It’s intimate and oddly possessive, and it makes me shiver. “I’ll walk you outside.”

He helps me off the couch and opens the front door for me. Together, we descend via the elevator, then enter the parking garage at basement level.

It’s dingy and dark. Incandescent lights flicker up above, revealing rows of flashy sports cars that extend the entire width of the space. And then there’s Daemon. He’s on his motorcycle, dressed in black leather. The engine revs when he sees us, filling the garage with exhaust fumes.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Christopher mutters.

I bite my bottom lip, squirming as Daemon removes his helmet and stashes it in the crook of his arm. Windswept black hair falls haphazardly over his red eyes, and he brushes it back with his fingers.

“You ready to go, Annie?” Daemon asks, patting the back of his motorcycle. “The sex club awaits.”

Glancing between them, I offer Christopher an apologetic smile before stepping up to the bike. Without looking at me, Daemon passes back the helmet, and I climb on like I have a hundred times before.

“Don’t worry,” he says to Christopher. “I’ll make sure she’s taken care of.”

The double entendre isn’t lost on me, and I could kill him for it. What is this? Some kind of territorial pissing contest?

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I hiss, just loud enough for Daemon to hear. He doesn’t answer, and Christopher doesn’t take the bait—probably because he’s one hundred years older, with one hundred years’ worth of added patience.

“You’ll call me if you can’t make it home?” Christopher asks. Home. That’s what this place could be for me—what he could be for me. The word settles in my chest, this warm, fuzzy feeling, and I nod.

“I’ll call as soon as we’re done,” I promise, slipping the helmet on.

Daemon revs his engine again like an obnoxious asshole, and it takes everything in me not to throttle him. Sighing, I wrap my arms around his waist and hold on tight as he peels out of the garage, tires squealing. Black roads and green lights zoom past us in a blurry collage as we pass through downtown, zipping around pedestrians and skyscrapers.

The faster he goes, the harder I squeeze, until I’m clinging onto him like he’s a life preserver.

He doesn’t stop. He doesn’t slow down. Eventually, downtown becomes suburban neighborhoods, and then highways. Still, we keep going, driving for what feels like hours. Daemon lives far away—I never realized that before now. His ability to teleport has totally spoiled me, and I can’t help but wonder why we aren’t teleporting now.

By the time we break for gas, the stars are out in full force, twinkling in a cloudless night sky. The full moon illuminates the gas station, bathing more than a dozen cars and pumps in silver. It reeks of diesel and exhaust fumes here, but I kind of enjoy the smell.

As Daemon shuts the motorcycle off and the purring engine stills, I remove my helmet and inhale. “How much longer do we have until we reach your house?” I ask.

Daemon shrugs. He hops off his motorcycle, then strolls up to the pump and begins pressing buttons. “Another hour, maybe.”

“An hour?” I frown at him. “Man, I really wish I knew an incubus who could instantaneously jump from one point to the next. That would be super convenient.”

“I need to preserve my energy, Annie. If we run into an emergency at the club, I have to be strong enough to get you home.”

“Oh. Yeah.” But last time, it had been so easy for him to make the journey. Twice. “You’ll be in a sex club,” I remind him. “It’s not like you won’t be able to feed.”

“On you?” Daemon arches a brow. “Do you really want to be in a position where you have to fuck me to escape?”

“Well… I…”