Something Wicked

“And yet you defend it. And you slept with it, too?” His lips curled with disgust.

Eden repressed a grimace. “First of all, he’s not an it, he’s a he, and his name is Darrak. Second of all, what I do with my life or my body is none of your damn business.”

“Did he force you?” he persisted. “Was it rape?”

“No,” she said firmly. He gave her a sour look. “Would you prefer me to say it was?”

“I just don’t understand how you could let a demon touch you.”

“I think it’s obvious that you don’t understand.”

His jaw set. “You know the way he looks in human form isn’t who he really is, right? It’s a trap. A way to get women like you to trust him, to defend him like this.”

“Women like me?” Eden repeated. “What exactly is that supposed to mean?”

“Women who would risk their own lives to help him. Demons are deceitful and will do anything in their power to manipulate the free will of others.”

She wasn’t stupid. She understood why Ben was having trouble with this. Like he said, Darrak was a demon. And Ben had seen him in his demon form. Not exactly rainbows and happy faces there.

Did he think she’d simply been seduced by a good-looking man with a bit of a dark side?

She wasn’t that easy. Her trust wasn’t totally blind. There were still many questions she had about Darrak, and she was certain she wouldn’t be happy with all the answers.

Despite her doubts and worries, Eden believed Darrak was good, and Ben believed him to be evil.

One of them was right.

“So the demon can take solid form during daylight hours?” Sandy mused aloud. “I’ve never heard of that kind of possession before.”

“What kind of a witch are you?” Eden asked sharply, turning her attention from the frustrating cop to the blonde.

“A gray witch.”

Eden had heard of black and white — evil and good — but she hadn’t heard of gray before. “So that means you can do both black and white magic?”

“Yes. But I only delve into the darker arts when it’s for a good cause.”

“Doesn’t using black magic damage your soul?”

Sandy wasn’t wearing an amulet like Eden’s. She was surprised the witch hadn’t noticed it. Eden’s dress was too low cut to hide anything tonight. Maybe it wasn’t common knowledge that amulets like the one she wore helped pinpoint who’s who in the world of black witches.

The witch shook her head. “My magic was born in me and developed over time, so my soul remains untouched. My black magic isn’t as strong as my white, but for the Malleus, I’ll be whatever they need me to be.”

“The Malleus?” Eden recognized that name and it scared her. It was a group that had existed for centuries to combat the darkness that seeped into the human world. The slayers and executioners of the supernatural — of witches and demons and other things that went bump in the night. Eden could see how they could serve a purpose to fight against true evil. But she knew the Malleus had also been instrumental during the Salem witch trials. They’d tortured and put to death a great many innocent men and women all in the name of good versus evil.

There was a knock at the door.

“Who’s here?” Eden asked, panic welling inside her again.

“Just relax,” Ben told her. “It’s somebody who can help you.”

“I don’t want your help.” She fought to stand, but a wave of magic pressed her farther back into the sofa. Sandy was keeping her magically restrained.

Ben went to the door and returned with a short man who wore glasses. His hair was white. He looked like somebody’s grandfather.

“Eden Riley,” he said, sitting down on the edge of the coffee table in front of her. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

She regarded him tensely. “Who are you?”

“I’m Oliver Gale. I represent the Malleus organization, and I wanted to meet you personally.”

Eden’s gaze flicked to Ben, who stood next to Oliver. Ben had rolled up his sleeves and for the first time she noticed the raw-looking wound on his inner forearm. It was a brand of a fleur-de-lis enclosed in a circle.

She gasped in shock. “Ben! You’re part of the Malleus now?”

Ben opened his mouth to answer, but Oliver spoke first.

“He is. We’re very happy to welcome Ben into our ranks.”

She was stunned by this, and it made her feel sick to her stomach. She’d thought Ben was one of her lesser problems to deal with, but she’d been wrong.

Oliver studied her carefully. “I’m told you’re infected with a demon, Eden.”

She opened her mouth to deny it, but she knew it would be in vain. “You make it sound like I have a virus.”

He continued to study her. “On a basic level, it’s very similar. A parasitic entity that requires a host in order to survive. Something that will poison your body and make you very ill.” He cocked his head to the side. “Tell me about your demon. Darrak is it?”

She pressed her lips together and shot a look at Ben.

“It’s okay,” Ben said confidently. “Oliver’s here to help you.”

She had a hard time believing that.

“Why would you join the Malleus, Ben?” she asked, not liking how weak her voice sounded.

He looked down at his brand and stroked his fingers over the healing wound. “I can help people, even more than I could being with the police.”

“Even if they don’t want your help. Like me.”

His jaw tightened. “Sometimes the people who need help the most are the ones who resist the hardest. Like you.”

Damn his sincerity.

She struggled to breathe and make sense of this. She’d been told the Malleus were bad. She’d also witnessed a power-hungry Malleus member try to take Darrak away from her and use his power for her own gain. But maybe it was a case of one rotten apple spoiling the bunch. Oliver seemed legitimately concerned. Ben was definitely worried about her safety. And Sandy was completely willing to dip into her natural-born darker magic in order to help out.

That didn’t sound like a triad of evil to her.

“He was cursed,” Eden said simply, deciding to be helpful instead of continuing to resist. It could make all the difference in the world.

“Your demon?” Oliver replied.

She nodded. “A long time ago a witch cast a death curse on him, but it only destroyed his body. We’re searching for a way to break that curse so he’ll be whole again and won’t need to rely on me or anyone else for survival.”

“How long has he been cursed?”

“Over three hundred years.”

“Do you know his true name?”

“No,” she said. But she did. It was Darrakayiis, but to give that information to anyone else would give them power over him, which is why Darrak went by the short form. Plus, it was much easier to pronounce properly.

“She’s lying,” Ben said. “I heard her use his true name before.”

She sent a fierce look his way. He couldn’t be less helpful if he tried.

“And what is it?” Oliver asked.

Ben frowned. “I don’t remember. At — at the time I didn’t think it was important.”

Eden noticed the clock on the wall for the first time and was surprised to see it was after three a.m. She’d