Ruined (The Eternal Balance #1)(26)

I grabbed yet another finger and snapped it back. “Hear that? Sure as hell sounds like breaking to me.”

It let out an anguished roar.

“I can make this drag on forever. I’ve got nothing but time.” I yanked back on another digit. “Ten fingers. Ten toes. Two arms and legs… This could get interesting.”

“Giving you what you want will change nothing. It will stop nothing.”

“Why don’t you let me be the judge.” I gave in to the demon just a bit, digging my fingers into the bastard’s flesh until I felt the skin give. He tried to scream, but I clamped a hand across his mouth to keep him silent. I moved my hand. “You’re a soldier. A soldier for what?”

“If I tell you he’ll kill me,” it rasped, breathless and afraid.

I chuckled. The sound was dark and dangerous and a little comforting. This was who I was. This was my life. I bent low and whispered in the man’s ear. “I’m the one you need to worry about. What he’ll do to you would be merciful compared to what I’ll do if you don’t tell me what I want to know.”

A frantic nod. “I don’t have a human name—only an address. Fifty-fifth and Aberdeen. Number 882.”

Its fear wafted up to meet me. It drifted all around, permeating the air and filling the monster inside. I savored the feeling—a twisted euphoria I loved and despised—as a shudder of contentment ran through my body. This was huge. I knew there wouldn’t always be a demon on hand to feed on—before this all went down, I’d only ever run into two or three in passing—but knowing I had the option eased some of my guilt.

“Please, man. I told you what you wanted. Let me go.”

Let him go?

“Okay.” A single, tight-fisted blow to the man’s jaw. I let his body fall to the floor. I left him alive because the risk of someone recognizing me, then finding the body, was too great. Time to pay Sam’s stalker a visit.

As I approached the door of the apartment, my cell rang again. Sam again. She’d called four times now. I killed the ringer and stuffed the phone back into my pocket. The demon flashed an image of danger. Something about this place made it nervous and even though I hated the thing, it had never steered me wrong before. Letting the demon rise closer to the surface, I listened at the door, allowing it to heighten my senses. There was a strange smell coming from inside. Something faint that, without the demon’s help, I’d never have picked up. A fetid scent mixed with something spicy. Something rotting. There was someone inside the apartment—but they weren’t alive.

Grabbing the handle, I gave a single twist. The knob rattled, then fell to the ground with a clatter. With one last look down the hall to be sure there were no prying eyes, I retrieved the knob and slipped inside.

The smell that hit me upon entering was ten times more potent than in the hall. Hand clamped tight across my nose and mouth, I moved past the entryway and into the living room. The building itself was nice—not swag really, but certainly not the run-down shitholes I’d been living in over the last few years. There was a mirrored ceiling and two matching walls, in addition to glass end tables and a large, empty floor-to-ceiling fish tank. An assortment of architecture magazines fanned across the coffee table, while paintings of uniquely shaped buildings adorned the walls. It looked like the kind of place I’d expect Chase to live. A bachelor pad designed with homemade porn movies in mind.

Other than the furniture, there wasn’t much else in the apartment. In fact, there was nothing. I pulled open several of the kitchen cabinets and drawers to find them bare. There were two used wineglasses on the counter sitting next to an empty bottle, but when I opened the fridge, it was just like the rest of the apartment. Nothing. On closer inspection, all the shelves in the living room were empty. There wasn’t even a television.

I moved through the place, randomly opening closet doors and drawers, and following the strange smell. Each step toward the back of the apartment brought me closer to the source. When I reached the end of the hall and rounded the corner on what appeared to be the master bedroom, I stopped to take a deep breath. Yeah. It was definitely strongest in here.

I walked to the closet and pulled open the door. It was the only thing in the apartment, other than the wineglasses, that appeared to have been used. At first, everything looked normal. A row of shoes. From brand-new sneakers to shiny dress loafers—all obviously never worn and strictly for show. The clothing rod was strung with hangers draped by suits, most still with the tags attached, several pairs of jeans, and a leather jacket. There were boxes stacked neatly on the top shelf, but when I reached for one, I found it empty. They all were.

My nose itched and my eyes watered as I fought against my gag reflex. The longer I stayed here, the more the smell bothered me. With the demon so close to the surface, everything was amped. I tried pushing it back to dull my senses, but it wouldn’t be moved.

I gave up and held my breath, bending down to push aside the shoes. The floor beneath them was a slight shade darker than the rest of the closet. It paid off. There was a trap door hidden in the floor. It didn’t take much to pry it open because there was no lock, which struck me as odd. Beyond the door was a narrow set of concrete stairs leading into blackness.

Leading into death.

The scent of sulfur permeated the air. I couldn’t discern how many, but there were multiple variations. This place didn’t belong to one demon. It belonged to several.