Marley knew the minute she clipped the lock on the door of the garçonnier that she wasn't alone. Whirling around, she saw Lizzie's boyfriend, Alex, sitting in a chair at the table.
"What are you doing here?" Too freaked out from Rosa's little display of fire power, she didn't bother to be polite. She was in a T-shirt and her underwear, her lover was immortal, and her sister had appalling taste in men. She had no interest in chatting with this creep. "Where's Lizzie?"
"In the house, naked. I put her on a couch and gave the room an open invitation to do whatever they'd like with her."
Marley's stomach churned. "You're disgusting. You should be ashamed of yourself for taking advantage of someone as needy and insecure as Lizzie is." And for the first time, Marley realized that truly was what drove her sister.
"That's not how I'd describe Lizzie. More like how I'd describe you."
She wasn't going to rise to that bait. "Did you need something? Because this part of the plantation is off-limits to partygoers. I need to ask you to go back to the big house."
"Waiting for your lover?" Alex had long legs and he stretched them out casually, his elegant fingers tapping a rhythm on the chair arm. "I confess I had hoped Damien would appreciate your unique charms, but even I am surprised at how taken he is with you. It seems our boy fancies himself in love. I find that amusing in the extreme."
Marley's irritation turned to fear, and she gripped the hem of Damien's T-shirt. "What are you talking about?"
"I keep forgetting you don't know who I am. I am Rosa's father and a Grigori demon," He stood up and bowed to her. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, my dear."
For a split second, Marley thought she was going to faint. Her fear clawed up and down her back, her throat, ringing in her head, and she swallowed hard, pushing back bile. "What do you want?" she whispered. God, this man, this demon, this walking evil, was with her sister. Had Lizzie completely under his control.
"I should have thought it was obvious." His eyes raked up and down her body. "I want you."
Marley fought the urge to take a step back. "For what?" Not that she thought he was looking for a good cook or a teacher for his children. She knew what he wanted, but the very concept made her feel ill, raw terror rising like vomit inside her.
"Let me explain myself. You look a bit concerned. I want you as my lover, perhaps eventually my wife if we are both so inclined."
His voice was smooth, cultured, low and coaxing, and he smiled, his manner neither threatening nor intimidating. He looked like a wine connoisseur, a piano virtuoso, a patron of the arts. He had none of the wildness Damien possessed, that instinctive edge of danger that surrounded him. This man was physically attractive, his features smooth, cheekbones high, hair neatly trimmed. But Marley could see that the intense look in his eyes didn't match the casual tone.
"I'm not so inclined."
He laughed, and the sound sent a shiver down her spine.
"And you already have my sister. What do you want me for?"
Alex, if that was really his name, shrugged. "Sure, Lizzie has been fun, but there's just no challenge there, Marley. I am a demon. I love to promote sin. A woman like Lizzie will sin with or without me. I only encouraged her to dive fully into her base nature. Maybe when I was younger, that would have satisfied me. But now it's just not enough. I want you. I want the thrill of turning a good girl bad. Now that would be very satisfying indeed."
There was no way, ever, that Marley would willingly have sex with that man, creature, whatever he was. She wondered if she could run for the house, or if she should stay and talk to him, waiting for Damien. Not that she really wanted to force a confrontation between the two. If Rosa could set things on fire, Marley could only imagine what Alex could do. But no matter what he was capable of, she was not going to sleep with him.
"If you want me, you'll have to rape me."
Alex made a sound, obviously offended by her frank speaking. "My dear, I have never forced a woman. Ever. What would be the point in that? The whole point is a woman's capitulation, don't you see? The moment that she throws over her values, what she thinks is right, her inhibitions and ridiculous prudery, and embraces what I'm offering, that is when I win. That is the glorious moment I desire, the moment I crave with you."
Marley could see his logic in a sick sort of way. "You're never going to get me to agree to walk over to a total stranger and give him o**l s*x because you asked me to. That's just never going to happen, not in my lifetime, not while I'm sober or drunk or anything else."
"I can see I haven't explained myself well. My relationship with you will be different than mine with Lizzie. I give her what she wants, needs, and that is a firm hand, guiding her, telling her what to do. She enjoys the crudity of my dominance. That isn't what you need or want, though, and I recognize that. You crave loyalty, stability, a nice home, and a faithful partner who worships you in bed. I can give you that, I can give you pleasure. I want more children, you want children." He ran his thumb across her cheek, making her shudder. "I have only been married once, to Rosa and Marguerite's mother, and I don't take the institution rightly. You wouldn't want for anything."
Did he really expect her to just say yes? She was waiting for the moment his pleasant, rational coaxing turned ugly, because surely he didn't expect her to just fling herself into his arms, even if he had managed to hit on exactly what she did want from a relationship. She shifted her face away from his touch, voice shaky, heart pounding wildly, but conviction as strong as ever. "You can't give me what I want."
He leaned forward, brushed his lips along the corner of her mouth, up her jaw, to her ear. "But I can take away that which you love the most."
Here it came. She steeled herself, tried not to beg. "Leave Lizzie alone."
"It's so simple, Marley." He pulled back, cupped her face with both of his smooth hands. "You come to me, willingly, and I release both Lizzie and Damien. A phone call and we can trot Lizzie off to rehab back home, and one word from me and Damien is released back to his mortality, free to do as he chooses. And you get everything you've ever wanted. A husband, children, a beautiful home, respect and love, sexual freedom."
Marley tried to pull away, but her legs felt frozen, cemented to the floor, and her thoughts tumbled and turned in her mind. She managed to shake her head. "You mean sacrifice myself for Lizzie and Damien." Isn't that what she'd always done? Was this really so different?