Demon Kissed (Cursed Angel Collection) Read online

  I shiver at his implications. “What do you mean by that?” I ask, doing my best to sound intrigued and not frightened.

  “It’s not important, because you are here,” he says, his eyes dark. “That’s all that matters. But you looked so shocked when you first saw me. In that moment, I could have sworn that you didn’t know it would be me.”

  “It was just stage fright,” I say. “Remember—I grew up in one of the sectors. Being here, in front of so many people… it was overwhelming. But then you took my hand and all that fear washed away. I felt safe. Like I always do around you.”

  He tightens his grip around my hand, as if he never wants to let it go.

  “How do you feel now?” he asks.

  “Like I’m living in a dream,” I answer honestly. “This is all so incredible. It hardly feels real.”

  “It is real,” he says, and we spin around, his gaze locked on mine. “So you better get used to it.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Once the dance ends, Zeke does as he must and chooses another woman in red to dance with. Much to my dismay, he chooses the one he winked at—the one with the neckline that dips down to her navel. Her name is Maria. When they start dancing, I notice her dress has a slit that goes up to her thigh.

  It strikes me as strange that he went from me to her so quickly, but despite how charmed I feel in Zeke’s presence, it’s the nature of a demon. Completely unpredictable.

  We’re allowed to mingle with the crowd now, and it doesn’t take me long to find Teresa and Marco seated at one of the tables. I join them, glad to give my feet a break after dancing in heels.

  “That went well.” Teresa’s voice is cool and unemotional, but her eyes are swirling with questions. I’m sure she’ll give me quite the inquisition once we get home tonight.

  “Yes,” I say with a smile, aware that partygoers are listening to our conversation and watching us from the corners of their eyes. “Do the women chosen for the first dance always get selected?”

  “They most always do,” she says.

  “You have nothing to worry about,” Marco adds. “Ezekiel seems smitten with you.”

  Teresa tenses at his comment. I can tell she’s still not comfortable with putting her sister in such danger, but I’m glad she’s helping us. Because now that I’ve danced with Ezekiel—Zeke—I feel more confident than ever that this plan will work.

  And while I feel foolish for thinking it, after the dance we shared, it feels like he trusts me already.

  “Did I hear him say something about the two of you meeting before?” Teresa leans forward, watching me with suspicion. “Because if you did meet him sometime before moving in with me, you would have told me, wouldn’t you?”

  “It’s nothing like that,” I say quickly, realizing she thinks I knew him in my true form—as Rebekah. Which would have been impossible, since Ezekiel fell from Heaven before I was created. But I can’t say that now, with people listening, so instead I say, “We met briefly twice, after I moved here.” I annunciate the word after, hoping it’s clear that I mean after I possessed Adriana’s body. “I’ll tell you the details later.”

  “You sure will,” she says, and I know I’m in for a long night after the party ends.

  “So,” I say, wanting to change the subject. “At these balls, does Ezekiel ever dance with the same woman more than once?”

  “It’s been known to happen,” Marco says, and he turns to look at Teresa. “It did for Gloria, right?”

  “Yes.” She nods. “As I remember, he danced with Gloria three times at her audition ball.”

  “Who’s Gloria?” I ask, looking back and forth between the two of them.

  “She’s a friend of Marco’s mom,” Teresa says simply. “She was Ezekiel’s favorite concubine back in her day.”

  “She made it through the year?” I ask.

  “She did,” Teresa confirms. “People thought she might have had a chance of being queen. But she was sent out of the Watchtower after her year, just like the other women who’ve survived. That was the year people gave up hope that a queen would someday be chosen.”

  “Where is she now?” I look around, wondering if I’ve seen her yet.

  “She’s not here,” Teresa says. “She keeps to herself.”

  “Oh.” I deflate, disappointed.

  “Did you want to meet her?” she asks.

  “Well… I think it would be smart to connect with her,” I say. “If I’m going to survive in the Watchtower, I should learn as much as I can from someone who’s already done so. Don’t you think?”

  “I think that’s a brilliant idea,” Marco says. “You’ll like her. She’s… more like us than you might think.”

  From the meaningful way he says it, I assume he means she’s also a witch. Which is good, since the more witches I can meet around here, the better.

  I bring my hand to my lips, nearly laughing at the thought. Whoever would have believed that I’d be looking forward to meeting a witch?

  It’s crazy how much has changed in such a short amount of time.

  Before we can continue the conversation, a friend of Teresa’s approaches, and Teresa introduces us. The night progresses in that vein for a while—light conversation and meeting acquaintances of Teresa and Marco.

  Ezekiel continues to select different girls to dance with. I know he sees where I am—our eyes have locked numerous times—and I expect he’ll invite me to dance again. But he doesn’t.

  Instead, about halfway through the party, he asks Maria to dance again.

  My heart drops as I watch them on the dance floor. But there must be a reason why he chose her instead of me. Perhaps he’s undecided on if he wants to eliminate Maria from the competition, and he’s dancing with her again because he needs more time to make up his mind.

  That must be it. After the connection I felt between us, and the way he told me to get used to being here with him, it’s silly to think he might not choose me as one of the ten selected women.

  Next, Zeke asks a Red who he hasn’t had a turn with yet to dance. She’s tall and gangly, and her heels make it so they’re nearly the same height. She’s beautiful in a fierce, runway model sort of way, but her head hangs as she walks, giving me the impression that she’s shy.

  He whispers something in her ear, wraps his arm around her back, and takes her hand in his. Jealousy pulses through me at the sight of them together, just as it has been all night as I watched him dance with the other girls, the heat of it burning like a pit in my stomach. I try to rationalize with myself that he has to dance with the others—and that I shouldn’t be jealous, since he’s a demon and I’m eventually going to kill him—but the feeling won’t go away, as hard as I try.

  The moment the music starts, it’s clear the Red lacks the grace of the other girls. Her legs are so long that she’s stumbling more than dancing. It’s like her limbs refuse to work together, and her cheeks are bright red—probably from embarrassment.

  Zeke’s lips are pressed in a straight line as they dance—he looks even more tortured than she does. He leads in her a twirl, and she somehow manages to trip over his foot. Her legs get tangled together, her ankle rolls to the side, and before anyone can rush forward to help, she’s on the floor, her head dropped in shame.

  Zeke stares down at her, and his eyes turn black—all over, even where they used to be white. He towers over her, his hands clenched tightly to his sides, and the next thing I know, she’s engulfed in flames.

  The flames vanish, as if they were never there at all, and the only thing left is a pile of ash where the girl used to be.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Zeke incinerated her.

  I stare at the pile of ash, frozen in horror.

  Suddenly, the partygoers erupt into applause. At first I’m confused, but it doesn’t take long to realize that they have to act entertained. It’s like when medieval kings beheaded people in the town square and everyone came to watch and cheer. Zeke is their king. If they d
on’t act like they support him, they could be killed next.

  I look away from the ash, returning my focus to Zeke. He stares straight at me—his eyes back to their normal brown. But there was no mistaking what I saw seconds ago. The inky blackness that had filled them entirely.

  Zeke is a monster.

  I don’t know why I’m surprised. After all, I knew he was a demon. But I suppose I still didn’t think him capable of such evil. The way he danced with me—his touch so soft, his words so sweet—it was like he was the same person I met on the street.

  But after seeing the full evil he’s capable of, I will not be tricked again.

  Ezekiel is evil. He deserves to die.

  And I’m going to be the one to kill him.

  In the meantime, I join the clapping, forcing myself to smile. Perhaps he’ll ask me to dance next. I want him to ask me to dance with him next—at least it will mean there’s one less girl who will be at his mercy.

  But he turns away from me, walks over to Elizabeth, and asks her to dance. I hold my breath the entire time they’re on the floor, but Elizabeth is a wonderful dancer—perhaps the best of all the girls tonight. Her eyes shine, her smile is full of life, and while I can’t hear what they’re saying, she and Zeke appear to be having a lively conversation.

  Eventually, their dance ends. As the night goes on without him choosing me again, my confidence wanes.

  “Perhaps we should go out there and dance?” I suggest to Marco. “To remind Ezekiel that I’m here?”

  “Are you crazy?” Teresa leans back in horror.

  “Not that I’m aware of,” I say. “I’m just trying to think of a way to get his attention.”

  “Well, that’s a terrible idea,” Teresa says. “Have you seen any of the other girls in red dance with someone other than Ezekiel?”

  “No,” I say, realization dawning. “I thought that was because they’re keeping themselves free so he can ask them to dance next.”

  “That’s part of the reason,” she says. “But Zeke doesn’t like other people touching what’s his. And tonight, all the women in red dresses are his. The last time a woman in red danced with another man at the ball, Ezekiel incinerated them both on the spot.”

  I shiver, able to picture it now that I saw him do the same thing to someone else.

  “It wasn’t a bad idea,” Marco assures me. “It would work on most men.”

  “But Ezekiel isn’t most men,” I say.

  “Exactly. Plus, he keeps looking over at you,” Marco adds. “Even though he’s a demon, Ezekiel is still a man, and his signals are clear. He hasn’t forgotten you’re here. In fact, he hasn’t stopped thinking about you all night.”

  “He has a funny way of showing it,” I mutter.

  “Relax,” Teresa says. “He’s probably already decided that you’ll be selected, so he’s giving some of the other girls a chance.”

  “I hope so.” I look at her with raw determination, more eager than ever to finish this job. “He has to pick me.”

  “I know.” Teresa nods, her fierce expression mirroring my own. “And he will. Just wait. The ball is nearly over, so it won’t be much longer until he announces his choices.”

  “Good.” I look over at Zeke, who’s dancing with Maria again. He has that infuriating smirk on his lips, and he’s looking down at her as if he wants to eat her alive. “I can’t wait.”

  It’s not long until the music stops and Ezekiel vanishes, appearing instantly at the top of the grand stairway.

  “Will all the women in red line up at the bottom of the steps?” He glances at what’s left of the pile of ash—it’s smaller now, since people have been dancing through it all night—and smirks. “Well, those who are still alive and able to walk.”

  My stomach twists at the reminder of that poor girl, and fire shoots through my veins as I walk past her ashes, finding a spot among the other women at the bottom of the steps. I hold my head high, looking straight at Ezekiel. I can’t wait for the chance to kill him.

  But I can’t risk him catching on to my thoughts, so I soften my gaze and stare up at him hopefully.

  His eyes meet mine, and they turn cold before passing me by. Worry fills my chest once more. I want to be confident, but it’s like he’s done a one-eighty since we shared that first dance. I don’t understand it. What could I have done to offend him between then and now?

  I have no idea, but all I can do now is pray for the best.

  “If I didn’t dance with you tonight, go to the back of the room,” Ezekiel instructs. “You’re automatically eliminated.”

  More than half the girls turn around and scurry away. I glance at those remaining—there are about thirty of us, of whom only ten will be chosen. I remind myself about what Marco told me—about his being sure that Ezekiel will pick me—and I rearrange my skirts, standing straighter.

  “I’ve selected my ten,” Ezekiel says, and everyone in the room goes silent. “If I call your name, walk up the steps and stand behind me. I want everyone to get a good look at the beautiful women who will be living in the Watchtower for the next year.”

  He begins listing off names, starting with Maria. Of course. He danced with her the most out of everyone. She struts up the steps, standing behind Ezekiel and popping out her hip so her entire leg shows through the slit in her dress.

  He says four more names. When he says Elizabeth’s sixth, my heart drops. So much for her being safe. She joins him and the others at the top of the steps, smiling radiantly at the crowd.

  He says two more names, and my blood turns to ice as my odds continue to decrease.

  When he calls the ninth, I hold my breath, waiting. There’s one more left. Maybe he’s saving his favorite for last? But he’s refusing to meet my eyes, and I know before he calls the final name that it isn’t going to be mine.

  “Yolanda Hernandez,” he concludes.

  A Red girl who appears to be barely fifteen holds her hands to her chest, as if in shock that she was chosen, before making her way up the steps.

  My heart drops at the realization that my instincts were right. He didn’t choose me.

  Did he figure out who I am? Did I do something to give away that I’m Rebekah, and not Adriana? I doubt it, because if he figured it out, he surely would have lashed out at me like he did to that poor girl he reduced to ashes.

  So what could it be?

  I have no idea, but right now, the possibility of finding the Flaming Sword and killing Ezekiel feels farther away than ever.

  “The ten standing behind me are the best of the best.” He looks over the top of the crowd, still refusing to meet my eyes. “In four days, they’ll be welcomed to the Watchtower, and a feast will be held in their honor. As always, the feast will be broadcast live. Until then, goodnight.”

  He raises his arms, flames erupt around him, and he disappears.

  Chapter Thirty

  “I don’t get it.” Marco paces around the kitchen island, running his hands through his hair. He tossed his shoes and jacket off the moment we got inside, his sleeves are pushed up, and his tie is undone, draped around his neck. “I saw the way he was looking at you. It’s the way a man looks at a woman when he’s already half in love with her.”

  “Maybe this is a good thing,” Teresa says from her seat across from me. “Adriana was going to be in too much danger at the Watchtower. Ezekiel passing her over must be a sign that we need to come up with another plan.”

  I sigh and cover up a yawn. Since getting back to the house, I told them the details about both of my meetings with Ezekiel. They reprimanded me for going with that Red boy in the alley, but other than that, they’re as confused as I am.

  Now it’s far past midnight, and we’ve been talking in circles for what feels like hours.

  “This makes no sense.” I kick one of my discarded shoes, and it hits the leg of Teresa’s chair. “There has to be an explanation.”

  “Like what?” Marco asks. “Ezekiel is our king. He gets what he wants. If he
wanted you, he would have chosen you.”

  “I don’t know,” I say. “But there’s only one way to find out.”

  “And what ‘way’ is that?” Teresa asks slowly, yawning as well.

  “I’m going to ask him to reconsider.”

  “Hell no you’re not.” Teresa jolts forward, her eyes awake again. “Do you have a death wish? Have you forgotten what he did to that Red girl—when he incinerated her?”

  “Playing it safe stopped being an option the moment I entered the Watchtower to audition to be a concubine,” I say calmly. “I can’t sit around here and do nothing. First thing tomorrow, I’ll go to the Watchtower and ask to speak with him. If there’s even a chance he’ll reconsider, I have to try.”

  Teresa turns to Marco, who’s stopped pacing. “Well?” she asks him. “Aren’t you going to convince her to stop this madness?”

  “It might not be madness.” He leans against the wall, his forehead crinkled in thought. “I mean, it could end badly. But it could also get his attention.”

  “Have you forgotten that my sister is in there?” Teresa points at me and stands up, her angry gaze on Marco. “I will not let anything happen to Adriana. I won’t let Rebekah put my sister in more danger than she’s already in.”

  I want to tell her that Adriana was in danger that moment I was assigned to possess her for this mission, but I don’t. Because she already knows that. Instead, I watch as she stomps out of the room, leaving Marco and me sitting in silence.

  “Give her some time to cool down.” He picks up his jacket, this conversation apparently over. “Right now, I think we all need some sleep. We’ll talk about this again in the morning.”

  He heads upstairs, and I don’t care what either of them said.

  Tomorrow morning, I’m going to that Watchtower—and I’m going to convince Ezekiel to change his mind and make me one of his concubines.