His Final Seduction Read online

  “Fuck!” Giselle leapt from his lap and landed on the sand several feet away. Arms flailing, legs kicking, she writhed against the white sands as if she battled a phantom attacker.

  What was going on? Some weird side effect from trying to take him by force? Whatever the reason, this was his chance to get away. Not wasting a second, he pushed to his feet, completely free of her hex, but where could he go that Giselle wouldn’t find him?

  “Damien!”

  Sydney?

  It couldn’t be…

  His heart thudding with a bizarre mixture of love and panic, he turned toward the sound of the frantic voice.

  Running down the walk from his house, Sydney rushed toward him. Her fast-moving feet shifted over shaped stone as she closed the distance between them, but he warned her away, desperate to keep her safe at all costs.

  “No, Sydney, get out of here! Giselle—” He glanced at the demon’s writhing form. “Please, Sydney, get out of here. You’re in danger.”

  But she didn’t stop. Her feet pounded over the rocks in time with his dying seconds. His legs ate the remanding space, and when they reached each other, he crushed her against him. “What the hell are you doing here?” he barked, pushing her to arm’s length, afraid once Giselle gained her strength she’d be able to hurt Sydney too. “You’ve got to run, Syd, please.”

  “No.” She gripped the front of his shirt, bounced her fists off his chest. “I need to see your contract,” she insisted. “I might have found a way to help you.”

  “What?” His eyebrows bunched together in confusion. “Help me how?”

  “There’s no time to explain, Damien. Just let me see the contract.”

  “She’s feisty,” Giselle said, drawing their gazes. She pushed to her feet in one fluid move, apparently no worse for wear, and dusted sand from her clothes.

  So much for getting away.

  “Now I understand why you fell for her, Damien.”

  He tried to step between Sydney and Giselle, but his lover wouldn’t let him. She pushed and bullied until she stood almost toe-to-toe with Giselle. “I need to see the contract Damien signed, and I need to see it now.”

  “Please go back to the house, Sydney,” he begged, still trying to shield her from Giselle.

  “No.” She pushed at him. “I’m not going anywhere until I see that damn contract!”

  “Oh, you mean this contract?” A crackling sound split the air. Not bound by gravity, the contract hovered above Giselle’s hand. His signature—inked in blood—stood out against the withered paper. “You have two minutes,” Giselle said to Sydney. “Then Damien and I finish this.”

  Sydney forced her hands to stop shaking and reached for the parchment the woman called Giselle had produced from thin air. Damien had told her of the demon, but seeing the creature in real life cemented the reality. It also whittled away at her returning confidence.

  What the hell did she think she was doing? Going toe-to-toe with a demon? How much crazier could a person get?

  Love makes us do crazy things.

  She scanned the parchment, completely unsure what she’d find. It was a contract from a demon, for pity’s sake. But she held tight to the vision she’d had moments ago. At least, she thought it had been a vision.

  To her shock, the agreement was worded similarly to every other legal contract she’d ever seen. Hope adrenalizing in her blood, she turned to Damien. “You said you were dying when you signed this, right?”

  He nodded. “I was scared and in pain, and she said if I didn’t sign the contract now, I would die.” Letting his gaze slip from hers, he shook his head. “It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

  Sydney wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him hard on the mouth. “Don’t give up on us yet, baby,” she whispered.

  Ignoring the confusion on his face, she walked up to Giselle. Sydney forced down her fear. If this was going to work, she needed every inch of the thick skin she’d grown during all those high-profile court cases.

  Growing the biggest ’nads a woman had ever grown, she crumpled the document into a tight ball and tossed it on the ground. “This contract isn’t worth the paper it’s penned on.”

  “Not a smart move, sister.” Giselle held her hand toward the wrinkled parchment, and the paper flittered back to her, smoothing itself in midair. “Okay, you’ve seen the contract. Why don’t you run along before you get hurt.”

  Sydney forced her eyes to remain glued to the other woman, not on the now-pristine contract. Okay, she hadn’t expected that, but it didn’t change anything. This is just like any other case, she told herself. Any other case.

  Behind her, Damien surged forward, always the knight trying to come to the rescue, but like before, she cut him off. It was his time to be saved for a change. “Damien signed this contract under extreme duress.”

  “Your point?” Giselle crossed her arms but left the contract to drift next to her.

  “In legal terms, duress is defined as a threat of harm made by one party against another to persuade said party into doing something against his or her will.”

  An amused smile touched the other woman’s lips, as if she was looking at a lunatic, and in some ways, Sydney felt like one.

  “Yes, but as Damien I’m sure will tell you, I did not threaten him to sign this contract.”

  “But you did.” She pointed an accusing finger at Giselle. God, she hoped this worked. “By preying on Damien’s imminent death and offering him a cure if he signed this contract, you essentially told him, ‘Sign this contract or you will die.’ If that doesn’t spell duress, I volunteer to take his place right here and now.”

  “Sydney, don’t—”

  She waved off Damien’s plea, her eyes steadfast on Giselle.

  “As much as I’d like to take you up on your offer, Ms. James, it doesn’t matter what the circumstances of his signature were. He signed the contract in his own blood so—”

  But before Giselle finished the sentence, the contract burst into flames. Fierce howls exploded from her throat, and she doubled over, her hands pressing against her chest.

  Holy shit. It actually worked. Smiling, Sydney turned to the man she loved, the man she’d saved, and her heart seized.

  “Oh, my God.”

  Damien lay face down on the ground, unmoving. Dread filling her chest, Sydney dropped to her knees next to him.

  “Damien?” She rolled him onto his back. His eyes were heavy, and breath entered and exited his body at the slow, shallow rate of someone moments from death. Fear’s cold fangs sank into her heart, drawing tears, and she looked back at Giselle’s wicked face. “What’d you do to him?”

  “You stupid, stupid bitch.” The other woman coughed and blood dribbled down her chin. She swiped it with the back of her hand and pushed to her feet with slow deliberation. “You killed him.”

  “What?” Sydney brushed hair and sand from Damien’s ashen face.

  “Correction. He’ll be dead in a matter of minutes.”

  Tears rolled down Sydney’s cheek and dripped onto Damien’s chest. No. This wasn’t supposed to happen this way. She’d found the loophole in the contract. He was supposed to be safe now. They were supposed to be together, happy on his little island.

  “Come on, Damien.” She shook him, refusing to believe his death was imminent. “Wake up, baby. Please wake up.”

  “He’s as good as dead.” Giselle coughed again. “You’re wasting your breath.”

  Sydney shook her head. “The contract’s void. He’s supposed to be okay.”

  “The second you destroyed that contract, you forced your lover back into the same pain-riddled state he was in the moment he signed the contract.”

  Leaning forward, she pressed her lips against Damien’s. “I’m so sorry, my love.”

  Giselle leaned close to whisper into Sydney’s ear. “So how does it feel? To kill the man you love?”

  “Bitch!”

  Unbridled anger exploded in Sydney’s veins, an
d she shot up like a rocket being launched from a tube. Catching Giselle in the stomach, she tackled the other woman like a linebacker and knocked them both to the ground. One after the other, Sydney’s fists slammed against Giselle’s face, and the creature’s laughter only made her punch harder.

  A searing pain exploded against her chest, and she flew backward off Giselle. Landing hard on her back—right beside Damien—she gasped. The breath slammed from her lungs, and she couldn’t force air back in.

  “You two have certainly been a thorn in my side.” Giselle stood over Sydney, a look of pure menace dancing in her eyes, her face no worse for wear after the brutal punches. “One ordeal after another, but maybe you and I can come to an arrangement. You know I have the power to save his life.”

  Sydney shook her head. “N-no.” She knew exactly what Giselle was proposing.

  “So earlier, when you said you’d switch places with Damien, that was all talk?”

  With shaking arms, Sydney molded against Damien’s side, cuddling him close. She didn’t know what to do. A decision had to be made, and Damien didn’t have much time.

  “Look at him, Sydney. So in love with you he was willing to die. What a waste to let that all go.” Giselle crouched beside Damien’s head and raked her long fingernails through his hair. “Tick-tock, tick-tock…”

  In a sick way, Giselle was right. He’d been willing to sacrifice his life for hers…it was only fair she do the same for him.

  “A straight trade,” Sydney whispered. “My life for his. Energy for energy. No contracts. No obligations.”

  “And what do I get out of the exchange?”

  “The warm, fuzzy feeling of knowing you helped someone in need,” a female voice interrupted, drawing their gazes to an outcropping of rocks. The woman from Sydney’s vision walked toward them. She wore a black-and-orange bikini and a smile.

  Sydney’s eyes widened from the overload of insanity. Was she having another vision? Or had she plain lost her mind?

  “The moment I saw you again, I should have known you’d try and help him, Margaret,” Giselle roared. It was obvious she was still weak, not that it diminished her scare factor much. “You’ve always had such a soft spot for these mortals.”

  “And you’ve always had a soft spot for yourself.” Ignoring Giselle’s dangerous tone, Margaret knelt down and pressed the back of her hand against Damien’s forehead, like she was checking to see if he had a fever.

  “Do you know how much planning went into getting that bastard in my clutches?” Giselle pointed at Damien.

  Shivers chased the fear down Sydney’s spine. She whipped her head around and caught Giselle’s furious gaze. “Wait. You caused Damien to get sick?”

  “Demon.” Giselle pointed at herself like Sydney was crazy. “It’s what I do.”

  “Then perhaps you should find a new line of work,” Margaret said, placing her palm over Damien’s heart, “because this really isn’t working for you.” Her hand glowed for three seconds, and to Sydney’s shock, a little of the color returned to Damien’s cheeks.

  “You’re one to talk.” Giselle moved a little closer. “All this compassion you have for these pathetic creatures makes you weak.”

  Margaret lifted her head and smiled at Giselle. The action caught Sydney off guard. The smile wasn’t forced or cynical. It was warm, caring. “Love doesn’t make a person weak, my dear sister.”

  Sister? Sydney’s stare ping-ponged from Margaret to Giselle, but she didn’t have time to process the statement before Giselle’s sudden move.

  Giselle kicked her sister, knocking Margaret to the sand, then grabbed Sydney by the hair. “I’ve worked too long and hard to come away from this empty handed.”

  Sydney’s arms instinctively tightened around Damien, her scalp stinging, hair ripping from her head. Giselle had already caused Damien enough pain, and she’d be damned if she’d let the bitch do it again.

  Giselle yanked until Sydney had no choice but to look deep into her deadened gaze. “The energy I got from that man was pure lust. It made me powerful, invincible. But you…” Giselle’s nose curled and her mouth tightened, “…you’ve taken it all away, but I have a plan to get it back.”

  “Oh, sister, do allow me to help you with that.” Margaret clamped her hand around Giselle’s wrist. “If energy’s what you want—” she grabbed Sydney by the wrist too, “—then energy’s what you’ll get.”

  The hand wrapped around Sydney’s wrist glowed white and a strange sensation took hold—like when cool skin touches a sun-warmed rock. Lazy. Comfortable. Complete in the embracing knowledge that felt like she was coming home after a long, lonely trip.

  The glowing expanded, quickly encompassing Margaret’s arm, torso, then hurried down her opposite arm to where her hand held Giselle.

  “What are you doing?” Giselle bellowed, trying to jerk away, but Margaret’s grip remained resolute. “Release me now or I’ll—”

  A pain-filled roar ripped from Giselle’s throat and drowned the rest of her threat. Sydney stared in disbelief, wondering what was happening.

  Giselle’s screams climbed to a fever pitch. Her tanned skin glowed crimson against the rising sun. Sores erupted on her arms, chest, belly…everywhere. Her flesh boiled from the inside out. She dropped to her knees, collapsed against the sand, and burst into flames.

  “Watch out.” Margaret released Giselle’s hand and moved to shield Damien and Sydney as Giselle’s body exploded into a cloud of flying ash.

  Sydney was shaking from so many things she couldn’t identify them all. Fear and confusion just to name a few. “How’d you—”

  “I’ll explain everything, Sydney, I promise, but right now, Damien needs our help. He requires energy and lots of it. I gave him a small shot a moment ago, but I didn’t dare give him more while Giselle was still alive. Even weakened as she was, she was still stronger than me.”

  “So, I guess you’re a demon too.”

  “Since the day I was hatched.”

  Hatched? Sydney shivered. God she hoped Margaret was joking, but she didn’t dwell. “You said Damien needs energy. How are you going to give him energy?”

  “Not me. We.” Margaret met Sydney’s eyes. “I don’t have enough to return him to health without sacrificing myself in the process, but if you’re willing to give some of your energy too, I think we can save him and all live.”

  “Yes.” Sydney nodded frantically. No thought. No hesitation. She didn’t know what giving Damien energy entailed, but it couldn’t be worse than the deal she’d tried to make with Giselle. “I’ll do whatever it takes. Just please don’t let him die.”

  Margaret nodded. “Give me your hand.”

  Sydney held her palm out, and Margaret pressed it flat against Damien’s chest, just over his heart. Placing hers on top of it, the other woman slid her fingers between Sydney’s.

  Static filled the salty air, and that same strange sensation heated her flesh. A quiet moan escaped Damien’s lips the moment a glowing whiteness engulfed their hands. His eyes fluttered open for a few beats then closed. Sydney bent forward and touched her lips to his. “I’m here, sweetheart. Just stay with me.”

  When she pushed back up, her head spun, her arms wobbled.

  “Just relax, Sydney.” Margaret rubbed a hand over Sydney’s back. “Breathe. Deep, calming breaths.”

  Sydney tried, but with each passing moment, the seemingly simple task was harder to maintain. Damien. She had to think of Damien and let everything else fade away. White light danced around them in a focused rush, a cyclone of goodness and love—or maybe it was all in Sydney’s head.

  Soft, whispered words spun a web of calm around them, but nobody said a word.

  “Sydney?” Damien’s voice, as groggy as it sounded, reached inside her soul and a smile broke out on her face.

  “I’m here, love,” she whispered, relief filling her. She made a sudden move to kiss him, but her world teetered. She slapped her free hand against the ground to steady herself
.

  “Wh-what happened?” Damien looked around, blinking.

  “Shh…you’re safe now.” Keeping her movement slow, Sydney bent forward and pressed a kiss against Damien’s lips. “Giselle is dead. Margaret killed her.”

  His brow furled, his eyes shifting toward the other woman. “Margaret?”

  “Hey there, boss.” Margaret tossed him a feeble smile, but Damien’s eyes drifted shut again. “He’s weaker than I thought,” Margaret said. “He still needs a lot more energy, but we don’t have enough to save him.”

  “Take more from me,” Sydney insisted.

  “I can’t. It will kill you.”

  “I don’t care.” She palmed Damien’s cheek, willing to pay any cost. Even her own life. Tears burned her eyes. “Just do what you have to do.”

  The older woman watched her for a long moment, a disapproving gleam in her eyes before finally relenting. “Okay, but I refuse to drain you to the point of death.” When Sydney opened her mouth to protest, Margaret lifted her finger. “I will not become a killer. Even for Damien.”

  Arguing was pointless. Sydney saw the decision clearly on Margaret’s face.

  They tried again. This time, the tired, lethargic feelings siphoning Sydney’s strength pulled her to the precipice of unconsciousness. Her eyes closed as though she hadn’t slept in weeks. Her arms and legs melted into almost-boneless heaps. Lack of sensation numbed her senses, intensifying the static coating her brain.

  Her head bobbed forward, but she managed to wrench it up. She didn’t want to show how weak she was, but willpower wasn’t enough to keep her upright. And she collapsed.

  Sydney’s head landed against Damien’s chest, her body next to his. He flinched from her dead weight.

  “We have to stop now,” Margaret whispered, and Sydney heard the concern in her voice.

  “No.” Tears burst from Sydney’s eyes, even though she didn’t have the strength to move. “There has to be something else we can do. I didn’t come this far to lose him now.”

  Margaret gingerly cupped Sydney’s cheeks and lay down so they were eye-to-eye. “There are two other things we can try.”