Page 50 of Feral Possession
Perhaps that was why the bastard was so quiet this morning. Marcus shared a look with his bodyguard. Dove could control the demon inside of him. Control me. His insides twisted at the realization. “You said it answered the question.”
“Right.” She sipped from her juice before nodding. “He’s from Carcerem. From the ether, which confirms my assumption that he’s incorporeal by nature. He said he had more freedom here, in a host. That Carcerem was a place he wasn’t free. Any idea what he means?”
“Carcerem is the kingdom of the fallen,” Marcus answered.
Dove coughed on a mouthful of juice. She swiped her lips with the back of her hand. “You mean the place the Council sends its criminals?”
Marcus shook his head. “Carcerem is more than a dumping ground for prisoners. It’s a whole other realm. Thing is, the gateway only works in one direction. Once something goes in, it never comes out. That’s why the Council sends our criminals there.” That, and it was rumored to be a hellish plane. Trying to survive there was worse than being executed.
Bishop grunted, folding his arms. “I’ve never heard of anything crossing into our world from the other realm. Could be the demon is lying.”
“I don’t think so,” Dove said. “After playing a couple of hands with him, I can tell you his poker face is crap. Which makes sense. If you were an incorporeal being, I imagine you’d have zero skills at masking your expressions.”
Marcus’s frustration grew. “If what the bastard claims is true, how did it get here and why the hell did it hitch a ride with me?”
Dove fiddled with her empty bottle. “Is it possible the explosion had something to do with the demon slipping between the realms?”
Bishop answered. “I’ve had experts go over every inch of the wreckage, as well as the scene of the explosion, and come up with nothing. At this point, Helen may be the only one who has the answers we need.”
Helen. Just hearing her name had Marcus wanting to stab knives into his ears.
“Did you get anywhere with Xavier? Did he identify Helen’s lover?” Dove asked him, unaware of his violent urges.
Marcus forced his jaw to unlock. “He’s playing with me, refusing to reveal the male’s identity.”
Bishop scrubbed the scruff on his chin, a dark gleam in his eyes. “Maybe it’s time we take what we want. I noticed several security cameras in the common areas and corridors. Good chance there’s footage of Helen and her companion.”
Dove raised her hand as though she were in school.
“Yes, Dove,” Marcus groaned.
“Last night, I spotted a spirit entering a secured room. He was caught in a loop. Guess he was really committed to his job or something. Believe me, if I come back as a ghost, it wouldn’t be to work for all of eternity. If I watch him, I’ll be able to see the code he types into the keypad.”
“Good chance that code has changed.” Marcus met Bishop’s eyes, reading his response.
“Maybe not.” The lycan snorted. “Xavier’s security is a joke. Those costume swords his guards carry couldn’t cut butter. The whole place is more about form than function. The security system is likely in the same shape.”
Anything that got Marcus off this island was worth trying. “It’s decided. Dove and I will follow the ghost and break into the surveillance room tonight.” Once they stole the information they needed, Xavier and his toga could burn in hell.
“Who, me?” Dove clutched the throw to her chest. “I just figured I could get you the code and be on my way.”
Marcus sent her a daggered look. “And leave you unsupervised? Not happening. Besides, you’re the necromancer. This is your department. Time you earned your keep.” Dove’s conversations with the demon were getting them nowhere. Less than nowhere, considering she’d almost got herself killed. Again!
“But—”
He stood up, cutting off her objections, in no mood after what she’d pulled last night. “You may spend your day with Celeste, but tonight you’re mine.” As he strode to his room, he ran his hand over his stomach and cringed. He was still in his pajama pants. Bare-chested, without his hood, and he hadn’t even realized.
Thirteen
Dove turned her backside to the full-length mirror and slid her palms over her booty. Black spandex was not a good look for her. In her hands was the love child she’d conceived after her salted caramel affair. She smacked her ass affectionately. Nothing wrong with a little junk in the trunk.
Marcus warned her to dress in an understated fashion so as not to draw undue attention. She’d patched together pieces of his and Celeste’s wardrobe since she rarely wore black. It was such a gloomy color, dark and moody. Perfect for Marcus, not so much for her. She’d coordinated a pair of yoga pants and tank top with Marcus’s black T-shirt, the latter knotted at her waist. Tease out her hair and she’d look like Sandy from Grease, post makeover.
She peered in the mirror and flicked her tongue over her front teeth. “Tell me about it, stud.”
“What was that?” Marcus called from the common area.
“Nothing. Just getting ready.” She headed into the main room. Celeste sat beside Bishop at the small table. While he studiously stared at the laptop screen before him, Celeste stared at Bishop, stars in her eyes. Imaginary cupids twirled around her head.