“Lucien!” Her head snapped up, frightened eyes meeting mine. “What are you doing to me?”
Good, she’d remembered my name, and never had it sounded better than on her tantalizing lips.
“Giving you what you want,” I reminded her with a smile. “All the dark impetus your needy little heart can handle. Now, tell me.” I glanced around theatrically. “Where is this place from?”
“M-my dreams.”
“Go on,” I coaxed.
“My fantasies.”
“That’s right,” I praised with a grin. “This is the place you see yourself when you want to come. When you want to writhe in your own dark debauchery, you imagine yourself here, tethered in shackles and forced to do things you protest about but secretly revel in.” Moving toward her, Penny’s head fell forward once more, but not before I’d noticed the hot embarrassment at her cheeks and could sense the shame rising to engulf her.
“Isn’t it?” I towered over her now, one flick of my wrist compelling her gaze back to my own. “Isn’t it, Penny?”
Teary eyes gazed up at me. “Yes.”
My lips curled at the admission. Though it had pained her to force the word out, she got there in the end.
“So, it seemed only fitting to bring you here. In all your fantasies, you used this place to garner strength and pleasure. Now, you can use it again to bring an end to this block you’ve been experiencing. In this dark place, you’ll write for me. You’ll write the endings you seek, and beyond that, you’ll pay homage to those darker tales you’ve always wanted to pen.”
You’ll pay homage to me.
I didn’t vocalize that final line, but I sent the words to her regardless, and a tiny mewl suggested she’d registered it.
“You can’t be serious.”
I was, and deep in her soul, Penny already knew it.
“I can’t stay here,” she started. “This isn’t a real place, and anyhow, none of my things are here. I can’t write without my desk, my laptop, my…”
Her words trailed away into a deathly silence, and for a moment, I allowed that stony oppression to encircle her. She might as well get used to it—the darkness and quiet would be her bedfellows for as long as I kept her here. I waited long after I might have spoken, permitting the intoxicating stillness to envelop her.
“Lucien, please.”
It was only when her desperate plea broke the silence, and she flung herself at my leg, I gifted her with a response. Grasping my ankle, she began to pant, and I sensed the frantic panic in her head.
What does this mean? This can’t be real. I can’t stay here.
He can’t keep me here!
“You’ll have what you need.”
My voice was even, promising her nothing more than what I’d envisioned for her. Penny didn’t need a host of distractions in her new dungeon. She had enough of those in her everyday life. This place was about getting back to basics—finishing her books and getting her word count up again. She needed a reminder of why she’d gotten into writing in the first place. She needed to get back in touch with her craft.
“But I…” Penny rose to her knees, swallowing hard as she regarded me. “I can’t work here. I can’t—”
“Penny.” I boomed her name around the bare basement room and acting on impulse, her hands flew to cover her ears. Mortals never could stand the sound of the demonic when we failed to inhibit our display. “Let there be no doubt on the subject, you are here at my bidding, and you will do as you are told.”
Somehow, her eyes widened further. “You’ll keep me here against my will?”
“I told you as much,” I reminded her. “And you failed to make your choice. That means you are my captive now.”
“You’ll keep me here.” Her mind was in freefall, thoughts ricocheting from disbelief to terror as she tried to process what I was telling her. There was little confidence in her tone, more the blank sound of shock as her head attempted to keep up with what was happening. Her expression was vacant as if she expected to open her eyes and wake up in her bed at any moment.
There would be no waking from this scenario.
The little novelist was mine until I decided otherwise.
“I shall keep you here until you start to produce the words you need—the books you need.”
“Shit.” Penny gulped, her body folding in as though I’d just landed a punch in her belly. “This can’t be happening. This isn’t happening!”
Shaking my head, I wandered from her cowering form. I had seen this many times before, and of all the stages of possession, it was the part that enthralled me the least. Denial was a natural part of the process, but it was tedious, and at my age, I had no desire to stay and witness Penny as she wrestled with it.
“It is happening,” I reiterated the point as I strode away. There was only one small slit of a window in the room, and glancing up, a slither of moonlight illuminated the mattress. “It is happening whether you like it or not. Get some rest.” She lifted her head, fluttering her dark blonde lashes, and I gestured toward the makeshift bed.
“There?” She hissed the word at me. “You want me to sleep on a dirty, old mattress?”
I cast my gaze over the thing. It was neither dirty nor old. “Sleep on the floor for all I care. I offer it to you only as a token, but if you refuse it, I shall take it away.”
“No.” Penny sniffed, rising to her feet on shaky legs. “No, leave it, please.”
“As you wish, Miss Lomax.” I flicked my hand in a gesture of dismissal. “But my advice to you is this—rest. Sleep if you can because tomorrow, work begins, and this time, there will be no shirking from your responsibilities.”
She pulled in a breath, inching in my direction. “What must I do?”
“How many stories need a conclusion?”
“A lot.” Her shoulders fell forward as though she was ashamed of the answer. “But I’m not sure this place relates to many happily ever afters, Lucien.”
My lips twitched at her quip. No doubt, she was right.
“You’ll manage, you have to. I want at least one of them finished tomorrow when you wake.”
Her brows knitted. “But how?” Turning, her gaze took in the breadth of the empty darkness behind her. “There’s nowhere I can work. There’s nothing for me here.”
“You will see when you rouse.” I pinioned her with the weight of my stare, my eyes compelling her toward the mattress and the rest she’d need to cope with the trials that awaited. “I’ll provide anything you need, but that may not be what you want, Penny. You will learn the difference between the two.”
She padded in the direction I bade, her body slumped as though it was hypnotized, though her brain still whirred with activity.
“You’re leaving me?” She glanced at me with large, stunned eyes, awaiting my response. “You’re leaving me here?”
“You must rest.” Hadn’t I already told her that? Why did mortals never listen? No wonder their species was destined for disaster.
“But,” she gasped, her feet reaching the edge of the mattress. “Please, I don’t want to be here, especially on my own.”