I pressed my back harder against the bed, wishing I could sink into it. The pressure in my chest was suffocating, and I could not believe I was thinking this, but longed for Evelyn or anyone else who was not this thing standing before me.
He took a step closer, his boots soft against the floor.
"Don't you dare come any closer!" My voice shook. Even to my own ears it sounded feeble.
He tilted his head, examining me with an unsettling calm, then took another step forward. Each movement was slow, agonizingly slow and deliberate. His presence filled the entire room, suffocating the air a little more with each step.
Frantically, I scanned every corner, and shadow, looking for anything I could use to defend myself. There was nothing. The room was simply empty and white. Whoever had designed it had not considered that the person inside might one day need a weapon.
When I turned back to him, he was sitting in a chair that had not been there before, looking at me with an unreadable expression, his body slouched casually as if we were having some mundane conversation.
"You look like you're about to faint," he said. His voice was rich and deep, a strange accent curling around the words.
His eyes, blood red, moved over me, pausing on my trembling hand gripping the edge of the bed, then settling on my face.
"You're still weak. You need to rest." He said, his words rolling over me like smooth velvet.
I should've hated it. Hated him. Should've been repulsed by everything about him. But there was something in the way his voice flowed through the air, as though it belonged to another time, another place, that stirred something in me.
No. Kira. He is messing with your mind!
"You're a demon," I blurted before I could stop myself. My heart pounded hard enough that I could feel it in my throat.
He grinned.
He. Grinned.
None of this made sense.
Why had it not attacked me?
Why was it sitting there as though it had all the time in the world?
I knew what demons were. They were the twisted offspring of vampires and hunters. Abominations that were not supposed to exist.
Vampires couldn't reproduce the natural way; they infected humans and turned them. But vampire males could father children with other species. Demons were formed from that violence because no hunter would ever choose to lie with a vampire. Demons were the product of rape.
The stories always said demons tore from their mother's body, killing them in the process of delivery.
Every hunter was trained to treat them as monsters without exception, without hesitation, without mercy. So, why did they keep him here? In safe land, surrounded by hunters?
I looked at him properly for the first time.
His hair was dark brown, with unruly curls on top, and the sides faded. His face was too perfect, and too symmetrical. Arched brows, a crooked nose that had clearly been broken before and had not set straight, and full lips. Then his eyes. The deep, bloody red of them undid everything else. It told you exactly what he was, and it did not allow you to forget.
"My name is Devon," he said.
Devon. Demon. Whoever named him had a sick sense of humor.
He raised an eyebrow, clearly waiting. "Now it's your turn."
The words hit me like a splash of cold water, snapping me out of the fog his presence seemed to have wrapped around me.
"I have no interest in socializing with you, demon, " I shot back, but my voice was still weak.
His smirk deepened. I hated that my stomach shifted in response.
His gaze moved over me slowly, from head to toes. Panic surged through me.
How long had I been here?
Two days.
There was no way I was still in my village clothes.
I made myself look down. I was wearing a loose white gown, reaching my ankles, far too large for me. The relief came first. Then the immediate awareness that someone had changed my clothes while I was unconscious. I did not know who. I did not know when. I did not want to think about it, but I was going to think about it regardless.
If I weren't naked, why was he looking at me like that?
"Kira," he said again. Softer now, the name was shaped differently in his accent.
I went still.
"The name suits you," he added, and there was something darker underneath it now. Something I did not like.
I looked up and met his eyes. The red was deeper.
"How do you know my name?" My voice faltered, and I resented it.
He stood. And in the time it took me to register the movement, he was directly in front of me. I gasped and stepped back. The bed frame pressed into the backs of my legs and stopped me. There was nowhere to go.
He was too close, his body too large, his scent was earthy, masculine, overpowering, and filling my senses. I could not find my thoughts.
Nothing in my life had prepared me for this specific situation, and whatever training I did have seemed to have evacuated entirely.
"I know everything about you, Kira," he murmured. The words settled between us and stayed there.
That was enough.
"Evelyn!" I screamed, my voice cracking.
He scoffed and took a few steps back. The moment he did, the room felt like it had more air in it.
"You've got a long week ahead of you," he said, his voice carrying amusement that suggested he already knew exactly how the week would go.
"Evelyn!" I shouted again.
I heard no footsteps. The door handle never turned. She did not come.
Whatever arrangement the general had made, it apparently included leaving me alone in here with Devon.
I looked at him. He looked back.
"Why are you here?" I asked.
"I'm sure the general informed you." He said.
"Your kind don't answer to hunters." I stated.
"What could you possibly know about my kind?" He challenged.
I stared at him. He stared back.
"Sleep now, Kira."
His voice was different now. I felt it before I could respond. Heaviness settled into my limbs, and my thoughts slowed. I fought it with all my might.
"Sleep," he said again.
My legs gave out. I couldn't fight it. His arms caught me before I reached the floor. The last thing I registered was his scent wrapping around me and the white ceiling.
And then nothing.