DEMON SENSE (Completed)

Chapter 27

CHAPTER 27

The first sensation to hit me when I woke, was the fowl scent of something acidic. Under that was a layer of something musky, wet, and metallic. The combination of the two made me gag.

Every square inch of my body seemed to be pulsating. My head hurt the most, so it took me a muddled moment to remember what happened.

Oh, right. I let that bitch kick my ass.

"Wakey, wakey," she cooed.

Speak of the she-devil.

Her soft, silky voice set off lightning bolts of pain in my head. I groaned in agony and brought my hands to my head. Metal jingled as I did this, and I realized I was wearing shackles.

I opened my eyes. "What the hell?"

Trish sneered, "I don't think so, cupcake. You won't be going anywhere until Atlas says you can."

My eyes darted around the room, trying to catch a glimpse of Atlas, only he wasn't here. It was currently just Trish and me. We looked to be in some medieval-like chamber, but it was most likely just a basement. A basement pimped out for an executioner. It was every bit as creepy as the ones in horror films. Scarier, actually, being that I was in it.

Well, this sucks, I realized.

It was going to be difficult killing Atlas manacled to the wall. If I’d had a little more time to think this through, I would have realized that letting Trish take me was the stupidest decision I could have made. If I hadn’t been so desperate for a solution, I’d probably have thought up a much more successful strategy.

 I inwardly groaned at my lack of diligence.

Trish started to pace back and forth in front of me, her yellow baby-doll dress bouncing in time with her stride. For a vampire, she didn't dress like one. I personally felt a crimson corseted dress and a stake through her heart would suit her best.

We didn’t speak a word to each other for the next fifteen minutes. There was still no sign of Atlas, and Trish was getting antsy. I was, too, for that matter.

"Is he showing up today, or what?" I asked her mockingly. "I drank a lot of coffee and I have to pee."

"Piss yourself for all I care," she snapped back, her cold eyes narrowing at me. Trish was a lot crankier than I remembered her. Either she hadn’t eaten in or while, or Atlas put her on edge. It was possible that both were the case.

"No need to be so vindictive, Catrisha."

Every muscle in my body went taut at hearing the deep, callous voice that traveled down the stairwell in the far left corner. My heart began an incessant hammering against my ribcage as I watched Atlas leisurely descend into the basement. His cold silver eyes locked on mine, turning me to stone. Figuratively, of course. He was scary, but he was no Medusa.

He greeted Trish with a smile as icy as his gaze, and I actually feared for her. I wasn't sure why. Trish was a vampire and Atlas, well, I didn’t know what he was, but he didn’t look exceptionally strong. At least, not stronger than a vampire. All Trish had to do was sink her teeth into his thick bronze neck, and drink him for all he was worth.

Yet, Trish's hesitance in taking Atlas's hand told me she held the same level of wariness towards him as I did. There was something foreboding about him that made the bravest of men—or vampire—uneasy.

Once he'd finished "welcoming" Trish, he strolled over to stand before me. He looked down on me, both literally and metaphorically. In his tailored suit, perfectly conservative haircut, and severe features, he looked like a high and mighty politician.