The Gargoyle's Captive (A Deal With a Demon, #3)

by Katee Robert

The comment stings more because he’s not wrong. I may only go after monsters who have already harmed a human, but my grandparents? My great-grandparents? My great-great-grandparents? Add as many “greats” as you want—the further back in history we go, the less the Jaegers cared about what really made a monster. For them, it was less action and more bloodline. I read the journals. I know exactly how fucked up it was.

Sometimes I fucking hate magic. Even my own; especially my own. Because, before Azazel turned around and walked away, his aura shifted to a pale blue that I am all too familiar with. Sorrow.

She a powerful aura reader!

There’s plenty of red anger and the sickly yellow green with a hint of brown that is hate. These beings don’t like each other. But more worrying is the bright pink of lust threading through the entire room. These monsters want us. There may be language in the contract that prevents us from being forced into any kind of intimate situation, but if we’re sent off, out of Azazel’s watchful eye, who will be there to enforce it?

A being who looks almost human, except for their size, smoky skin, long tail, the coal-black claws on their hands, and their cloven hooves. So, really, not that human at all. And, finally, one who looks even more human. They’re big too. They’re all big. The shadows shift, and I pick out their massive wings and two pairs of horns peeking out of their white hair. They’re looking right at me.

Despite myself, my attention snags on the tall dark-haired woman in purple. Unlike the others, she stares out at the room with a provocation that feels almost violent. With the lights positioned as they are, there’s no way she can see the details of us, but that doesn’t stop her from challenging us with her dark eyes. It feels like she reaches across the distance and hooks her nails right into my chest.

“Are you a witch?” She snorts. “Hardly.” I should stop talking, should wait for Azazel to arrive. Until the contract is signed, there’s every chance that the whole deal can be called off. But I find myself shifting so she’ll look at me again. “You’re taking this whole thing rather well.” “I made a deal with a demon. Compared to Azazel, you’re just a dude with bat wings. Nothing to write home about.” She smirks. “Cute horns, though. Really adorable.” My horns are not adorable.

I’m not sure if she’s saying it to reassure him . . . or to threaten him. From the worry that strengthens in the air around him, he’s not sure either. Under other circumstances, I would be wholly entertained to see this demon, who’s been a royal pain in my ass for decades, set back on his heel so effectively. But this isn’t another circumstance. I need him not to go back on this bargain.

It always shows up exactly alike: deep ocean blue for contentment, red for anger, a rich green for jealousy. The energy around Grace feels muted, as if she’s drawn into herself. That sort of thing shouldn’t be possible. I suspect it has more to do with how she processes her emotions than any kind of mysterious magic she’s conducting. Still, it means she’s hiding something.

Maybe the memories plaguing me would finally cease rattling around in the back of my mind where I can never escape. The look of surprise on my father’s face, frozen there in death. My sister’s blood soaking the stones as her breath rattles to a stop. The twins, their bodies so badly damaged that I’m not even certain what killed them. Only who. The knowledge that I ran when I should have fought, that I hid when I should have helped. I should have died that day with the rest of my family. Every moment I’ve lived since then feels stolen. That’s the true curse I live under. The claustrophobic feeling inside me presses hard until I want to rip my skin off just to be rid of it. I know I need to keep everything inside, to power through any sign of weakness, but it bubbles up despite my best effort. I throw my head back and keen my grief to the wind.

I feel like Grace's mom killed them or at least a familt member

It certainly is beautiful to watch, though. Bram cuts through the air the way sharks swim through the sea, every bit of energy seemingly devoted to his mobility, his speed. At least until he arches, throwing his head back. Even at this distance, I hear his cry and feel an answering twinge in my chest. I don’t need to see the white edged with pale blue pulsing from his body to know that he’s experiencing grief on a level most people can only dream of. I hate that I know that feeling. I hate even more that I empathize with it. He sounds like he’s the last person living in the entire world and he only just realized it. I felt that when my mother never came home and I realized I was the last Jaeger left.

“I’m the last of my family, too.” “I’m sorry.” I make a face. “I don’t know why I said that. They’re pointless words that do absolutely nothing. And then it puts you in a position where you’re supposed to say something back, and . . . what are you even supposed say to that? I never know.”

He knows I plan to leave again. If he catches me, he’ll bring me back again and fuck me. I shiver at the thought, and I can’t begin to say if it’s fear or lust causing the physical reaction.

Shock stills me. I search his face, his aura, for proof this is a bluff. All I find is the deep violet of resolve threaded with the pale mauve of relief. He means it. I don’t know what to make of this puzzle of a man. Maybe I should cut his throat and be done with it. Except that would break Azazel’s contract. Time moves differently in this realm, and it’s entirely possible that he hasn’t yet fulfilled his part of the bargain to save Ryland and the others and deliver them to Mina. I tell myself that’s the only reason I do what I do next—I can’t afford to let that happen. I toss the dagger away. I save people. I don’t kill them. I kiss Bram.

Need makes me too harsh, though that’s a pathetic excuse for what I say next. “I’m easily twice your size, with claws, wings, and fangs. I could kill you half a dozen ways in seconds. Forgive the fuck out of me if I’m trying to ensure you stay safe and whole through this process.” Why the fuck did I say that? I’m acting the part of exactly the monster she thinks I am. No good man reminds the people around him of all the ways he can hurt them, even if it’s the truth. But then, I’m not a good man, am I? I forced her into the corner, and now I’m being a dick about it.

“You won’t hurt me.” She says it so confidently, I almost believe her. I can’t afford to. Explaining means admitting something that I would rather not, but I need her to understand the severity of the situation we find ourselves in. “I wouldn’t intentionally hurt you. But it’s been . . . quite some time for me. I might be able to afford to lose control with one of the people in this realm, but humans are significantly more fragile.” She smiles slowly, and my cock jerks in response. “You’re making it very hard to hate you right now.” “Do you have to hate me?” “Yes.”

It should feel like that with Bram. It is like that with Bram. He “rescued” me so that he could force me into his bed, but I don’t feel forced at all. I feel . . . powerful.

“Grace. Please.” His voice is so rough, it sounds like someone is strangling him. I like it when he begs. I’ve never really experimented with kink, though I’m more than passingly familiar thanks to the reading I’ve done on the subject. I never could’ve anticipated the thrill his submission gives me. I squeeze his cock again. “Please, what?” He growls deeply enough that I swear I feel my bones vibrate. “If you don’t stop doing that, I’m going to come before you even get your mouth on me.”

I lie on my bed and stare up into the vaulted ceiling, my body still singing from Bram’s mouth. My soul still singing from the way he yielded.

He would have let me slit his throat in the tub. There was no hesitation in his aura, no trap waiting to be sprung. Bram is . . . complicated.

No he suicidal

One of my parents is a gargoyle, which is what gave me my good looks.” They motion at their face. “And my ability to read emotions and magic. Just like one of your ancestors indulged with a gargoyle, and that ability has likely been skipping down your family line ever since.” There’s no lie in their aura. They genuinely believe what they’re saying. I shake my head, my mind reeling. “That’s impossible.” Oh, not that one of my ancestors strayed to a paranormal partner and had a child—that’s the only way humans can get any magic of their own. But a gargoyle? That means . . . I freeze. “All gargoyles have this ability?” “Mm-hmm.”

start to sit up. “Bram—” “It’s fine.” Ramanu releases me and rises with a fluid grace that sets alarm bells pealing through my head. “Bram may be reckless, but he’s not a fool. To lay a finger on me is to directly challenge Azazel. He can’t afford to do that because he won’t win.” The comment should fill me with relief, but all I feel is anger at the defeat that flickers over Bram’s expression. I might not know which way is up and which way is down in this current situation, but I know a shit-starter when I see one. Ramanu might technically be here to check on me, but they’re also here to stir the pot.

It’s not reality, but I stand here in the dark, in silence, and share the fantasy with her. At least for a little while.

“Take off your clothes, Bram.” “You first.” His eyes rake over my body so intensely that I swear I can feel them. “I want to see you.” But he doesn’t move an inch closer. He won’t until I give him permission . . . until I order him. Again, that intoxicating power flows through me.

I drag my finger along the chain of the birth control pendant slowly. He tenses, almost as if he’s fighting not to pounce on me. The thought gives me a thrill. He won’t. I’m certain of it. Not until I give the command. “If you play this game with me, if you submit to my commands like the good boy that I know you can be, then we will end tonight with me riding your cock.” I lean forward, and he mirrors the movement. My body goes tight, and I lower my voice, coaxing him closer still. “And if you’re very, very good, I’ll let you fill me up.”

Her toned thighs, peppered with scars from the life she never talks about. Her perfect pink pussy, a delight I fully intend to enjoy to the fullest before the night’s over. But only if I’m good. The thought sends goose bumps over my entire body and makes my cock strain. I don’t know how she manages to collar me with so few words, but I feel like she has her hand wrapped around my throat. I fucking love it.

Holy fuck, she’s going to make herself come. Without letting me touch her. “Grace.” My voice is a ragged plea. “Let me. Please.”

“You did well. But now I’m all messy. Would you like to clean me up?” There was only ever going to be one answer to this question. I am nearly certain I might die if I don’t taste her again. Clean her up? I want to make a mess of us both. I nod slowly. “Yes.”

Im loving this

“Hold out until I come all over your cock. If you do, I’ll let you fuck me however you desire.” “However I desire?” He curses long and hard, making me clench my thighs around him.

YES

I am a Jaeger.

Babes…stfu and love the man. Or monster? Thing with the penis

“One of the first times you ever spoke to me was to ask if I burn. Let’s find out together.” I lean forward, bracing my elbows on the table, daring her with my eyes to back down. “You might like the way I fuck, but don’t pretend you like me. Don’t pretend you don’t crave freedom from my presence to pursue your poor, dead mother. So burn me, Grace. Unless you don’t really want answers at all. Maybe you’re just as much a coward as I am. I’m your mirror, after all.”

“It was my father’s fault. He started spending time in the bargainer demon territory after the war, avoiding his duties as leader, and he got hooked on humans. I think Azazel was looking for any leverage he could find to ensure the peace talks succeeded. So he made a bargain with my father, very similar to the one I made.” Almost identical, in fact. Not that it matters now. I take a slow breath, inhaling Grace’s scent. “Less than a year in, she killed everyone. Even my siblings, who had barely entered adulthood.”

HER FUCKING MOTHER! BITCHES I TOLD YOU ALL

I find Grace exactly as promised—naked in my bed. It’s a sight I’ll never get used to. She isn’t doing anything particularly provocative, just sitting with the sheets pooled around her waist and her breasts exposed, her dark hair pushed back from her face. But she’s in my bed. Naked and vulnerable and trusting. I shut the door behind me and drink in the image she presents. “I like you like this.”

“Barbara was the name of the human who killed my family.”

FUCKING KNEW IT

“Azazel.” “Yeah?” “Tell Grace I’m coming for her tomorrow. If she still wants to see me.” “Bram.” He looks over his shoulder at me, expression grim. “If you don’t come for her tomorrow, she’s liable to come looking for you.”

“I know you’d prefer to see me as the orchestrator of all your ills, but I take the protection and care of my humans incredibly seriously. That includes your mental health. If you want to talk to someone, I have several qualified people on staff. That’s an open-ended offer, by the way. You don’t have to answer now.”

“I love you.” I stare. Did he just say what I think he just said? “What?” “It won’t be easy to be with me. Things in my territory are a mess, and that’s not going to change anytime soon. The nobles will push back against any change I make. They will try to incentivize you to leave, and when they realize that won’t work—you were right—they’ll try to hurt you. But someone very wise told me that hope is a powerful thing. I think, with you by my side, we can give that to my people. If it all goes terribly wrong and they oust me from the throne, at least we’ll be together.” He swallows visibly. “If you want to, I mean.” I blink several times, still trying to keep up with the direction the conversation has gone. “But my mother—” “You’re not your mother. Just like I’m not my father. It’s not fair to judge each other by those standards. I . . .” He shakes his head. “I’m not saying it’s not going to be a problem once the truth of your family comes out. And I can’t pretend those old hurts won’t rise from time to time to sting us. No matter what else is true, it’s going to be a lot of work to step out of the long shadows our parents cast. But I have to believe we can do it.” Hope hits me so intensely, I’m surprised I don’t rise right off the roof of the castle. “You love me.” “Yeah. I love you.”