Chained in Desire

By Veronica Del Rosa

Fourth in the Enforcers and Coterie series, Chained in Desire delves deeper into a world where magic co-exists peacefully with the ordinary, for the most part . . .

As a Mage Demon Enforcer, Victor Tremaine is one of the elite classes. Only a handful of mages have earned this distinction since demons are tricky buggers, especially those who have entered Earth illegally. Six months ago, he received an assignment — find and capture something that shouldn't even exist: a human turned demon.

Imagine his surprise when she appears one day and attacks him.

Isabella Tuarez has been tuned into the emotions of others all her life. She's only ever wanted to help, but that driving desire may prove to be her undoing. Escape from her captors should’ve been a happy time. Instead she found herself held by someone more ruthless. To survive, she must prove her usefulness.

She must kill an Enforcer.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Veronica Del Rosa
• Release date: May 3, 2016
• ISBN: 9781311796226

Veronica Del Rosa

An avid reader, I enjoy paranormal romance, urban fantasy and fantasy books. It wasn't a far stretch for me to write a paranormal fantasy. I'm also a computer/sci-fi geek and I've been in computer field for well over 15 years.

Book preview

Chapter One

S hh, it’s okay. You’re safe . . . for now. An unknown male voice—one without the coldness of the scientists, without the indifference of the guards. Isabella shuddered, eyelids squeezed tightly together while jagged slices of agony swept through her body, aftershocks that lessened with each passing second. Gentle hands smoothed down her bare arm. You’re not with them anymore.

She bolted upright as memories ricocheted in her mind. Test after test had been performed on her: bones broken, injected with viruses, and left starving and thirsty for days on end. Her pleas for mercy and answers had fallen on indifferent ears, until they had finally tried to kill her. They had expected her to die from that last injection.

But she hadn’t. Why not? What had they done to her?

Peeling her eyelids apart, she glanced around the room, and her brows furrowed. Why was everything washed in varying tones of grey? No lights were on, no windows marred the walls. One single closed door.

Where . . . Her voice cracked, not yet healed from her screams. Clearing her throat, she tried again. Where am I?

Isabella twisted her head to peer at the stranger. He wasn’t one of the scientists. For one, he had a softness in his eyes that none of them had. For another, he had horns on his forehead. He wasn’t human.

In one of the strongholds. You’ll be safe for a few days. His lips twisted downwards, and every trace of softness disappeared. Then he’ll come for you. Don’t try to fight him, because you can’t. It’ll be worse for you if you do.

Who? she whispered. Somehow she’d managed to escape one set of psychos only to land in the clutches of another. And who are you?

Another prisoner, like you. You can call me Nicor. My true name can’t be pronounced by humans. His short bark of laughter startled her, and she shifted farther away. Had his time here damaged his brain? Would he hurt her? Then again, you’re no longer human, now are you?

Isabella scrambled to a sitting position, knees drawn to her chest, and she pressed her back against the wall. Horrified, she asked, What do you mean? I’m human. Was I turned into a vampire? Or a werewolf?

Your life would be so much easier if that were true. No, it’s much worse. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and sympathy washed over his striking features. "I’m afraid you’re the first human turned demon. A prize he’ll never let go."

That’s insane, not possible. I can’t . . . she wheezed, struggling to deny the horror of his words. She wasn’t human anymore? She didn’t feel different, did she? Stretching her fingers out on her knees, the wrongness of it smashed into her. Why do I have scales?

It’ll be fine. I’m here to help you.

Why do I have scales! she screamed, rage and fear crashing through her. The world blipped, and she no longer sat on the bed, but instead crouched on the floor behind Nicor. What the fuck just happened!

He slowly turned and brought his hands up, palms out. "You teleported. It’s a normal reaction when you’re scared. As a rule, you’d travel somewhere you feel safe. This place, however, is warded against teleportation. No one can leave without his permission."

Weariness dripped from his words, although his shoulders remained straight and unbowed. His captivity hadn’t yet broken him. Isabella wished she could say the same. Her time with the scientists had damaged something inside her, the fundamental trust and naivety that proclaimed everything would be fine.

How long have you been here? How could he help her when he’d soon spiral into the same cesspool she had waded through? She lifted her hand, searching for other changes to her body. Horns on her forehead, small nubs like a baby goat. She had horns!

With a sad smile, he replied, Well, human calendars weren’t very accurate when I first arrived, but I’d say roughly forty-five hundred years.

Isabella coughed, caught off guard by his answer, and dropped her hands into her lap.

You’ve been here, she gestured to the room, "since ancient times? For over four thousand years?"

Not in this exact room, but I’ve been under his rule for that long. He found me soon after I exited my home portal. He said this world was full of savages who’d tear me apart with their magic. Nicor sighed and lifted a shoulder in a careless shrug. He lied. It’s what he’s good at. But I didn’t find out the truth until I’d already pledged myself to him. Now I’m bound and have no way of breaking it.

So it’s hopeless then. There’s no way out, is that what you’re telling me? She collapsed, unable to maintain the crouch, and her knees smashed against the hard stone floor. Her palms slapped against the unforgiving material. The pain was negligible compared to the crushing hopelessness.

Yes, that’s what I’m telling you. There is no way out, he said. Dishonesty mixed with guilt brushed against her, and she glanced up. Subtly, he shook his head, denying his words.

Were they being watched? The scientists had concealed cameras everywhere. Was the same true here? Training her eyes on him, refusing to give into the need to search, she snarled in frustration and pounded a fist against the floor. Fine, so we’re trapped in this place.

She stood up and stalked to the bed, dropping heavily on it. The springs squeaked in protest. Folding her arms across her naked chest, she glared at him. Where were her damn clothes? She glanced down and realized it didn’t matter. Who would find her attractive with these ugly scales all over her?

You can hide the scales, once you learn to control your abilities, Nicor said, deducing her thoughts.

What difference does it make? I’m a freak now. She stared at her grey-toned scales. And why is everything grey?

Night vision. I’m not sure how strong yours will be, though. It varies among the different demon species. We’ll test yours, once you learn the rules. This, I cannot save you from. Regret shadowed his eyes. His remorse wrapped around her, and barbs of pain scraped her insides raw. This demon anticipated agony for her.

Isabella eyed the door, her muscles tensing.

Could she escape? He said she couldn’t teleport, as if she understood how the fuck to do that, but there had to be other ways out.

Can you turn on the lights? I don’t want to see just grey anymore.

Of course. Nicor stayed seated but light flooded the room. At her startled glance, he explained, Telekinesis. Some of my people have the ability.

And that’s why you’re green? She studied him, having never seen a demon up close before. He was handsome in an exotic way, an interesting study in hard planes and sharp features. His two horns were a beautiful golden colour, gleaming against his black hair. When he lifted a hand to touch one, she realized two things. One, his fingernails were a glossy black, and two, she was staring. Embarrassed, she dropped her eyes.

Yes, that’s why I’m green. All my people are this colour. Well, not this exact colour. We come in many different shades. He shrugged, drawing her eyes to his bare shoulders. At least, last time I saw any of my kind, that was true. They could’ve evolved to gold for all I know.

Isabella had the strange urge to comfort him. His sorrow tugged at her, an emotion buried deep beneath his matter-of-fact words. Damn her bleeding heart. Her mother always said it’d get her in trouble. And she’d been right.

Heart-wrenching cries outside of her isolated home had kicked Isabella’s need to help into high gear. She hadn’t thought, just acted. Maybe if she had, she would’ve wondered why a lone woman had been so far out of town with no vehicle.

Why hadn’t she sensed anything off about the whole situation?

Her act of kindness had gone horribly wrong, one moment of compassion had rendered her blind to the danger around her, and she’d woken up in a tiny cell, begging.

Shaking off the distressing memory, she focused on the demon before her, and a horrible thought snuck into her mind. She’d heard of Stockholm syndrome. Who hadn’t? The abductor would show his victim a little bit of kindness mixed with abuse, and bam, starved for any crumb of affection, she would fall in love.

Was there even another person? Was it all some elaborate ruse on Nicor’s part? Or would the other one he spoke of break her down while Nicor swooped in with false gentleness to gain her trust?

A bitter laugh lodged in her throat. Suspicion and paranoia were more her speed these days. Nicor would find her harder to fool.

Your eyes are very expressive. You’ll need to work on that, learn to hide your emotions. He leaned forward to grasp her chin and peered into her eyes. The grey in his irises swirled, storm clouds that threatened to consume her. Unable to look away or even blink, she stared, her entire being laid bare for this one creature.

A slow smile widened his lips and lit his eyes, lightning sparking in the clouds.

She wrenched her chin from between his fingertips, furious he’d tried some kind of demon magic on her. Watch yourself, demon.

Nicor settled back on his stool and laughed, a hearty sound that filled the small room. You just might survive with your sanity intact.

A few hours after her arrival, Nicor decided the grand tour was needed, although his words had a more ominous ring to them.

The others must know you’re under my protection. You’ll be safe, for the most part. Some will try to challenge my authority, though.

What about . . .? She waved a hand at her nudity. It was one thing to sit naked with a disinterested demon who obviously didn’t find her attractive, it was another to parade around without clothes in a large group of unknowns.

Oh, yes, sorry. Few bother with clothes while in the stronghold, but I understand your hesitation. Here, let me. He touched her arm, the sensation peculiar as it filtered through her newly acquired scales instead of skin. A long-sleeved grey shirt and blue jeans covered her body. Her feet remained bare. I’ll teach you how to mask yourself in illusions. For now, I’ll maintain it.

Thank you, she murmured, the words almost sticking in her throat. She hated the pathetic gratitude she felt towards him for clothing her. A small act of kindness, one designed to soften her towards him and make her dependant on him. The scientists hadn’t cared for her compliance, so they never bothered treating her with any semblance of dignity.

They’d removed all trace of her humanity, locking her in a cell with only a hole in the ground for basic needs. Food and water had arrived when they felt like it, and they’d drugged her on a regular basis.

She swallowed hard, shoving aside the memories, and dug her tiny claws into the meat of her palms. Blood drifted in the air, a pungent scent far stronger than anything she’d experienced before. Another ability courtesy of her disgusting hybrid nature? Had her sense of smell been heightened?

Don’t do that, Nicor said, stopping at the doorway. You’ll bring them to you.

The demon grabbed hold of her hands and uncurled them. A light heat from his fingers feathered across her damaged skin and the wounds sealed shut. He brought her hands to her mouth and she recoiled.

You want me to lick them? Gross. And unsanitary.

Better for you to do this than another demon smelling it and thinking you’re weak. Blood on your breath would also make them hesitant to attack. Demons value power, cunning, and sadism. At least, the ones here do.

Isabella stared at her reddened palms. She’d entered a world she had no clue about with rules she didn’t understand, and her guide was a demon she didn’t trust. But for now she had no choice. She’d follow his lead until she found a way to escape.

She licked her palms, removing any trace of drying blood.

Watch, learn, and play the game, no matter how horrifying. Survival was all that mattered at this point.

Chapter Two

Victor hunched his shoulders as he trudged along the winding driveway, weariness dragging him down. He’d treaded this path every day for the past three months, each time wishing for a different outcome. The bright sunlight and chirping birds mocked his sombre mood.

Isabella, for reasons unknown to him, lived on the far outskirts of Toronto, past the expanding suburbs. Her closest neighbour was almost half a kilometer away and trees sheltered her modest bungalow from view.

The mixture of different-coloured bricks and a large bay window lent the house an air of hominess, like a roaring fire and hot cocoa waited for him inside. Nothing was further from the truth. The house lay empty, cold, and barren. Waiting for its owner.

Out of habit, he searched the area with his mage sense, a useful ability that allowed him to identify the different races and their locations. Nothing could remain hidden from him.

His heart rate sped up. A human in Isabella’s house. Had she finally come home?

Gathering the strands of waiting energy within his body, he cast an unlock spell on the door, and held a freeze spell ready. While he hoped he’d find Isabella inside, only the stupid and the dead remained unprepared.

He opened the door and zeroed in on the intruder.

Mrs. Tuarez, I thought we agreed you’d stop torturing yourself like this? Victor said, pasting a sympathetic smile on his face and reshaping his magic into harmless mist. Coming to Isabella’s home won’t bring her back to you.

He stepped inside, letting the door close behind him, and wiped his shoes on the doormat.

Isabella’s mother stood near the fireplace and gave him a watery smile as she ran a finger over a picture of her daughter. In it, Isabella had been backpacking in Algonquin, a massive national park meant for the serious camper. No running water and no electricity.

Maple, birch, pine, and spruce trees surrounded her. Their bright green foliage made for an arresting backdrop. Isabella’s radiant smile lit up her eyes. A moment in time that had captured the beauty of her soul and was one of his favourite pictures of her.

Victor had already scoured the park and found no trace of her.

And I thought we’d agreed you’d call me Sophia, Mrs. Tuarez replied, placing the photo on the shelf. I can’t give up hope that one day she’ll walk through that door. Maybe when you have a child, you’ll understand.

I won’t stop until we know what happened to Isabella. He sidestepped the silent question in her words. Each time they met, Sophia probed him for personal information, whether from curiosity or professional habit, he hadn’t yet figured out.

His gaze wandered around the room, searching for anything out of place, a hint that Isabella had come here without his knowledge. Everything remained exactly where it’d been yesterday.

Sophia sank onto the couch, wiping away the tears from her cheeks. Her thick chestnut hair, so like Isabella’s, was streaked with grey and twisted into a bun. Expertly applied, high-end makeup and her expensive pantsuit marked her as a top executive or some other white-collar professional. His extensive research into everything ‘Isabella’ had informed him that her mother was a psychiatrist to the stars. She helped with addictions, divorces, and whatever else cropped up.

Victor remained by the door, conscious of his unwanted ability. No comforting of the worried parent on his part. One misstep and he’d increase Sophia’s heartache. These past few months had worn her down. Exhaustion had added creases to her cheeks and dark circles under her eyes that her makeup failed to hide.

The pain furrowing her brow echoed what he’d felt when Lilith, his sister, had disappeared. The uncertainty, the fear, the irrational thought that if he did everything right, she’d be safe.

Why won’t you tell me what happened to her? I know you have some idea. You have to or else the Enforcers wouldn’t be involved. She’s human, not one of the preternaturals. Sophia pinned him with her gaze, and he donned a suitability contrite expression.

An angry mother had nothing on a furious demon baying for his blood, but he didn’t want to insult her by treating her demands as beneath him. Plus, how could he explain that her daughter had been kidnapped by pitiless scientists who’d experimented on her? Scientists who’d claimed they had the best interest of humans at heart, yet ripped lives apart without a care.

And then, in a moment crueller than he’d thought possible, they’d injected her with demon essence. Isabella had bled from her eyes, ears, mouth. She’d screamed in agony as her body had transformed: scales over her flesh, claws for fingernails, and tiny horns on her forehead. The image was seared into his mind, haunting him each night when he lay down to sleep, reminding him that he wasn’t any closer to finding Isabella.

The truth was more disturbing than anything Mrs. Tuarez could imagine. A classified situation that only a small handful knew about. Her daughter was no longer human.

I’m sorry, but I can’t discuss an ongoing investigation. Victor wandered into the spotless kitchen, resisting the urge to poke through her cupboards. He’d already memorized everything from his last hundred or so visits. His gaze met Sophia’s over the island that separated the two rooms. Is there anywhere else she might have gone? Maybe somewhere she’d spoken of visiting but didn’t have the chance?

No, nowhere else. I’ve already told you everything. Isabella is a homebody, an introvert. Even her university courses are all online. A distant smile curved her lips. She has such a bleeding heart, though. Always worrying about others, but she has problems interacting.

And you haven’t heard anything from her? No one has contacted you on Isabella’s behalf? A long shot, since not many could contain a demon unless said demon had been summoned. And no one could shackle her essence through a ritual. It wasn’t possible, since she had no true name, unlike a demon.

This meant either Isabella had vanished of her own accord, too frightened to come home, or someone had figured out another way to imprison her.

I’ve told you time and again, no one has contacted me. I wouldn’t keep that from you. Sophia straightened, sitting primly on the couch with her fingers clenched together.

He nodded before wandering down the hallway, gazing at the family photos decorating the walls. In each one, a wide smile brightened Isabella’s face. The only other pictures of her showed her alone, no friends at all.

He finished his circuit of Isabella’s house, lingering for a moment in her bedroom. A stuffed turtle rested on the unadorned pillow, and the blanket was turned down, waiting for its owner’s return. Several bookshelves filled with trinkets and books lined the walls. One dresser sat with a TV on top, and a closet revealed a meagre collection of clothes. From all accounts, Isabella spent most of her money on others, not herself, barring her collection of books.

Here as well, everything was immaculate. He knew from his first visit that Isabella hadn’t kept such a tidy room. Not that he had room to complain. Cleaning wasn’t on his list of fun ways to pass the time, but at least he had magic. With a low mutter and a flick of his wrist, he released a bit of energy into the room, a minor spell to rid an area of dirt.

He ran his finger over the dresser, satisfied no dust remained.

How long until she came home, though? How many more times would he visit here, wondering where Isabella had gone? Every inch of her house was intimately familiar to him, but it missed the vital spark of its owner.

Was she somewhere safe? She’d suffered enough and deserved some peace.

Or would she end up like Victor’s sister? Decades ago, Lilith had followed her heart and had paid a harsh price. She now spent her days in a sanatorium for the clinically insane. Not a word had passed her lips since the day she laughingly told Victor not to worry.

Back in the living room, masking his morose thoughts, he smiled at Sophia.

Will Mr. Tuarez be picking you up or did you want a teleport somewhere?

Dipping her chin down, she murmured, Ricardo will pick me up. Thank you.

Of course. Victor nodded and gathered enough energy for a teleport. Ozone burned in his nostrils, and a gentle wind plucked at his hair and clothes as he moved from Isabella’s home to Kirkbridge Sanatorium in Richmond Hill.

Flower gardens lay bare with a dusting of snow on them. Some years there’d be a foot of snow on the ground, but unseasonable warmth had kept much of the cold at bay. Unoccupied wooden benches were scattered around the garden with naked branches swaying above them. A favourite spot for many of the patients during the warmer months, but Victor hated it. He’d been visiting this damn place for over fifty years now, and it served to remind him of all the years his sister had missed. The life Lilith should’ve had if a certain fucking faery hadn’t interfered.

The Victorian building with its red brick and large, arched windows sprawled across the grounds with several wings to give the non-violent patients privacy. Lilith had her own spacious room, even though she didn’t move unless an orderly helped her.

Victor stalked forward, his much-loved and well-worn overcoat flapping against his thighs. A cold wind ripped through the air, though he didn’t feel it. Several spells were woven around his body, including warmth. His favourite spell, however, was shielding. Given the number of people he enjoyed aggravating, he liked having the added protection.

Yeah, wouldn’t want to damage my pretty face, right? He grinned at the caustic thought. Not even he was safe from his asshole nature.

Pushing open the main door, he wiped the smile from his face, donning his forbidding Enforcer mask. An emotionless robot, one unable to feel anger, hatred, or pain. At least that’s what the Academy training aimed for when they tortured their mage students. A part of his training had failed, unable to root out his need to irritate others. Some claimed it was a failing, he claimed it added to his charm.

Oh, hi, Enforcer Tremaine. Right on time for your appointment with Lilith, Edward said with a smile, and flipped around the ever-present clipboard.

Ages ago, Victor had specified a heterosexual male receptionist for his weekly visits, which he ensured with a hefty cheque each month. On rare occasions, though, an enterprising woman would bribe her way onto the shift.

Any updates on Lilith? Victor scrawled his signature on the sign-in sheet and marked off the time. Has she been getting enough exercise?

Same as always. She’s been a model patient for us, and we haven’t had any problems with her daily routines. You’ll find her in her room.

Victor nodded his thanks, then headed down the hallway. Several orderlies walked or wheeled patients to their destinations, and he skirted around the ones he could. With his ability in lockdown, only those close enough to reach out and touch him turned to stare. Lips pressed together, he shrugged off the annoyance.

Not their fault. They can’t help it. A worn refrain, one that irritated him each time he thought it. Sure, they couldn’t help it. Didn’t mean he enjoyed all the damn attention. What would it be like, having others ignore him? To be plain and overlooked? Even if he masked his features, he’d still attract others. It wasn’t his looks, but the damn pheromones. Maybe one day he’d just disappear, move to a deserted island or something.

His sister wouldn’t notice so long as he showed up every Friday. Even then, would she even realize if he missed his weekly appointment? And his mother, well, she was wrapped up in another new grand romance. Was it the fifth or sixth one since his father’s death over a century ago?

Victor stopped outside of Lilith’s door and pinched the bridge of his nose to clear his mind. Dropping his hand, he pasted on a playful smile and turned the knob. The same sight as always greeted him—Lilith sitting on the edge of the bed wearing a white cotton top and pants, hands folded in her lap, her stare vacant. White hair hung around her shoulders. The colour had once been a deep walnut brown. The day she’d returned from Fay, it’d changed to its current shocking colour. Her pale skin remained unlined and youthful, a woman in her prime.

Hey, Lil. How’s it going today? It’s beautiful outside, although a little chilly. Victor prattled on about nothing important as he sat in the chair next to her, its hard seat softened by a small, frilly pillow, one he’d brought in so long ago. He’d wanted a little colour in her dreary world.

Wooden chairs, no pictures on the white walls, and plain curtains and sheets all added up to sheer boredom for the senses. A vase sat on a low table with a single yellow daffodil. His magic kept the flower alive long after it should’ve withered.

Lilith didn’t blink or twitch. He could’ve told her a dragon was outside her door and she wouldn’t have reacted. Her mind had snapped from a year in Fay, and nothing he’d tried had brought her back. Unable to care for her himself, he’d searched for the best hospital possible, unconcerned with the cost. Lilith had helped raise him, had encouraged him to apply to be a Mage Demon Enforcer when he’d hesitated. She’d been a better mother to him than their own had been.

And he’d failed her.

With a cheerful smile hiding his darkening thoughts, he patted Lilith’s hand, needing the connection. As a blood relative, his abilities didn’t affect her. One of the few women in the world he could spend time with and not worry she’d become obsessed.

And even though she couldn’t carry her side of the conversation, he still gained comfort from her presence.

So the other day, a demon decided he’d take me out. Crazy bastard actually attacked me on the street, yelling some nonsense about how I’d wronged his master and how I’d pay for my interference. Victor chuckled, remembering the look of shock when he’d swiftly incapacitated the creature.

Seemed someone believed the rumours Victor liked to spread about himself, something about how incompetent he was and how he’d bribed his way into his position.

"I froze him, maybe taunted him a little, and then interrogated him. Mages never remember that demons can talk freely about their masters, should they choose. Just because they’re bound to a summoner doesn’t mean they’re loyal. Idiots." He grinned, a stretching of his lips that didn’t touch the turmoil inside him.

He raked his fingers through his hair, the sound of his lone voice scraping at his raw nerves. He’d made a mistake coming here. Would Lilith have even noticed his absence?

Slumping in the chair, he leaned his head against the wall. He couldn’t remember a time when he’d felt so damn drained. Prior to this assignment, he’d searched for Sylvia, a werewolf friend who had been abducted. He’d been part of the raid that had rescued her and in turn had uncovered the videos of Isabella.

Before that, he’d helped Jackson, his Enforcer partner, evade the other Enforcers hunting for him, all while pretending he was working with his colleagues instead of hindering them. Time off would’ve been nice. He’d fantasized about disappearing for a month, lazing about on a tropical island where his biggest worry was which pair of gaudy shorts to wear. A favourite fantasy of his that might come true one day.

Instead, he’d been handed another assignment. Only four people in existence knew who and what he searched for—a human/demon hybrid. An impossibility. A potential danger.

A woman who needed his help and the protection of the Coterie.

And only three people knew Isabella wasn’t the first one of her kind.

Well, sis, I’m heading out. I’ll see you next Friday. Victor stood and absently patted down his pockets, verifying his spell components hadn’t fallen out. He bent down and kissed Lilith on the cheek. Love you.

He strode out of the room without a backwards glance. It hurt to leave her here, but he had no choice.

Victor stalked down the hallway, his footsteps echoing along the passageway. Most of the male staff ignored him, but most of the women stared and sighed. He blocked out the hum of their voices, drawing his ability in tight. With his mage sense scanning for anyone bold enough to approach him, an anomaly caught his attention: one of the Fae.

Why would a Fae visit a human sanatorium?

The beauty of his job meant he could ask these questions and expect answers. Tracking the essence took him down an unfamiliar corridor, one darker than the rest of the building. Only humans lay behind the closed doors, each one unable to cope with day-to-day living, some from mental illnesses, others from a trauma that had broken them. The supernatural races had