33

Zoltan brought the glass to his lips and drank from his wine. Winter ignored hers. She didn’t want to drink, because she needed all her wits about her, couldn’t afford to get tipsy, let alone drunk. She knew that Zoltan noticed that she wasn’t drinking, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he cast her one of those superior looks that he was so good at. As if he knew something she didn’t. Or simply, because he knew he was stronger than her, and that she would ultimately lose whatever battle they were waging.

“Everybody has their breaking point,” Zoltan said. “In the end, everybody gives in.”

“Yeah, you said that before. Get to the point,” she said. Where she got the courage that allowed her to talk to him like that, she didn’t know. Maybe it was because she had nothing to lose, nothing but her dignity. Her life was already forfeit. She was living on borrowed time. They both knew it. Maybe that was the reason he didn’t lash out at her now, despite her disrespectful tone.

“Well, then let me get to the story.” He set down the glass and leaned back in his chair. “I wasn’t the Great One back then. I was just a grunt, just another demon eager to please his master. You see, I was more ambitious than my brethren, more eager to make it to the top. I took greater risks and reaped greater rewards.”

“Is this why you had me kidnapped? So you could boast to me about your successes?”

He tsked. “So impatient. I was like that once too. But I learned patience, just like you will. I learned to wait for the right time, the right opportunity. It paid off. I got wind of a psychic. I watched her. I found out everything there was to find out about her. You see, if you want to truly bring somebody onto your side, you have to know their pressure points.” He tipped his finger to his temple. “You have to know what makes them tick.” He chuckled. “With most people it’s money, power, or sex. But this woman, she was different. She wasn’t interested in money or power. And frankly, she was a little too old to care about sex.” He shrugged. “But you know what she cared about?”

He leaned forward, staring at her.

Winter held her breath. She already suspected who he was talking about. But she wasn’t going to give anything away, just in case she was wrong.

“You. She cared about you.”

Her grandmother. He was talking about her grandmother.

Zoltan smile was self-congratulatory. “Yes, she was an interesting woman, your grandmother. But she had a weakness. She loved you, and wanted to protect you at all costs. She fought against me for a long time. But in the end, she decided you were worth her sacrifice. We had a deal. I would leave you in peace to live your life as you chose, and she would come with me and serve me and my master.”

Winter shook her head. “No, never! My grandmother was good. She would never have worked for you! Never!”

Zoltan tilted his head to the side and studied her. “You’re cut from the same cloth as she. We didn’t know at the time that you would inherit her gift. But that’s beside the point. The point is, she gave in because she knew it was best for everybody.” Suddenly his expression darkened and he slammed his fist on the table.

Winter shuddered at the sudden outburst.

“But those damn Stealth Guardians! They had to interfere, didn’t they?”

She didn’t dare answer, not when Zoltan looked like he was ready to kill somebody.

“My apologies,” he pressed out through clenched teeth. “But what they did was unconscionable. They killed your grandmother. Killed her before I could get her to safety. They’re cold-blooded killers. A life means nothing to them. Your grandmother would have lived with us here, but the Stealth Guardians killed her. They took her from you. They don’t care about you. They never did. As soon as you become a liability, they’ll kill you. You’ll never be safe with them.”

Winter jumped up and kicked her chair back. “And I’ll be safe with you? How gullible do you think I am? You were able to manipulate my grandmother because she wanted to protect me. But you have nothing on me! I’ll never agree to work for you. I’d rather die!”

“How dramatic. I love a passionate woman. You know why you were safe all those years after your grandmother’s death? It wasn’t my doing. The Great One punished me for my failure in bringing him a psychic. For nearly ten years I rotted in a cell down here. Meanwhile none of his nitwit subjects kept track of you. They lost you. By the time I was free again, nobody could find you. Until last week.” He laughed triumphantly and rose. “Imagine how elated I was, when I realized you’d inherited your grandmother’s gift. Still, I was willing to go easy on you, despite what I had to endure because of you. I wanted to give you a choice and make you a partner in this.”

“Partner? To a demon? Never!” She glared at him defiantly.

He narrowed his eyes. “Very well. There are other ways to gain your compliance.”

Inside she shuddered at the thought of torture, but she lifted her chin nevertheless. “Go ahead, hurt me. But it won’t change anything. I’ll never give in. You don’t have a bargaining chip like you had with my grandmother.” And she didn’t blame her grandmother for giving in. She understood now. Just as she understood why Logan had to kill her grandmother. But it didn’t matter anymore, because she’d never have the opportunity to tell him that she was wrong.

Zoltan raised his hand and she flinched, expecting a blow. Instead, he stroked his hand over her cheek. Winter recoiled at the touch.

“I wouldn’t hurt a pretty face like yours.” He lifted his finger to her temple. “But I will get in here. And you will give in.”

“No!”

“Is that your final answer?”

She spat in his face.

He didn’t bother wiping the spit off his cheek. His demon-green eyes flashed, then locked with hers and she was unable to look away. At the same time, she felt a tightness in her chest and her heart began to pound furiously.

You are mine now. I’m your master.

She heard his words, but his lips didn’t move.

Surrender!

The demand was accompanied by a wave of pain washing over her head, penetrating her skull.

“Noooo!” she screamed.

She couldn’t allow him in, couldn’t give in. This invasion was different from the one she’d experienced with Gabriel, but her mind’s reaction was the same. She pushed against it, fought with every cell of her body against the foreign power wanting to invade her mind and focused only on one thing: survival. She felt electricity spark around her, saw blue light appearing at the edge of her vision, sensed her hair standing up in all directions. At the same time, she felt a supernatural strength inside her, her psychic power defending itself.

She held on for dear life, fought against Zoltan’s invading thoughts, trying to get her to surrender to his power. But with every new command that he sent into her mind, her psychic power seemed to grow stronger.

Zoltan screamed and slammed his hands against his temples, stumbling backwards. Still, Winter continued to fight, continued to bombard him with her power.

Suddenly strong arms ripped her backwards and tackled her to the floor. She lost her concentration. Simultaneously, Zoltan’s invasion ceased. She struggled against the two demons who’d come to their master’s aid, but they were too strong. Her own power seemed to be zapped. She had nothing left.

She heard Zoltan’s angry growls before he entered her field of vision. He glared down at her.

“Get her up,” he ordered his two subjects.

They followed his command and jerked her to her feet.

“I’ll teach you to defy me, you bitch!” he yelled.

She only saw his fist when it was already too late. Even if she’d seen it earlier, she wouldn’t have had any defense against it. It hit the side of her head, snapping it in the opposite direction. The force of the blow was so violent that it flung her against the nearest wall. Pain seared through her entire body. She tried to hold on to her consciousness, tried to grasp at something, clawing at the wall behind her, but it was no use.

She opened her eyes, trying to focus, but everything around her was gone. The demons, Zoltan, the dining room. Gone. In its stead was a pleasant room with a large window, a soft rug beneath her feet. The furniture was old fashioned, antique even. Outside it was dark.

The crying of a baby made her spin around. It came from a wooden crib. It was just as old as the rest of the furniture in the room. It reminded her of the kind of furniture that belonged in a palace in the 1800s. Next to the crib, a single candle was lit.

The baby kept crying. She approached the crib and looked in. The child, a boy, was naked and had thrown off his blanket. She reached into the crib, but realized then that she couldn’t cover the child, because she wasn’t really there.

A sound across the room made her shift her gaze away from the child. Her heart stopped. Poison-green eyes blinked at her from the door. The demon wore a long cloak with a hood. The darkness in the room did the rest to obscure his face. Frightened for the child, Winter tried to scream, but no sound left her throat. Unimpeded, the demon approached. He reached into the crib. Oh God, he would kill the baby! But the demon lifted the boy into his arms, holding him to his chest as if he were a treasure. Winter stared at the demon, then at the naked baby. The candlelight suddenly spotlighted a curious looking birthmark on the baby’s bottom.

Then there was another movement. The demon reached in his pocket. He pulled out a small metal flask, opened it and poured the liquid into the crib. Red blood stained the sheets. The flask empty now, the demon put it back in his pocket and turned, leaving the room with the child in his arms.

Winter ran after him, following him down the stairs of the big mansion. But she couldn’t stop him. The moment he reached the first floor, he made a movement with his free hand and conjured a vortex. A second later, he jumped in and disappeared.

Oh God, no!

Tears streamed down her face. The vortex vanished, and suddenly she was staring at a portrait of a man and a woman, a baby in her arms. They both wore clothes that would have been fashionable in the Regency period, but something else drew her attention. On the man’s hip sat a dagger. The same kind of dagger she’d seen Logan and his friends wield. The man was a Stealth Guardian, of that she was certain. And a demon had kidnapped his child.