Free My Decadent Demon (My Demon Trilogy, Book 1) by Nikita Jakz, Alicia Dawn Page B

his head and left.
    Sera stood there for a long while, surrounded by darkness despite the heavenly light spilling in through her windows.
     
    Placed in a padded detainment cell, Cole spun around, growling at the angels as they closed the door behind him. His eyes were pitch-black, beyond furious that they were keeping Sera from him. He cursed harshly as his demon erupted, black claws extending and horns in clear view. Fire flared where his pupils once were and his voice was no longer his own. It now boomed deep, dark and formidable as he lashed at and shredded the walls. Within a matter of seconds, stuffing covered the entire floor.
    It wasn’t until his rage died down that understanding finally sank in. They had him by the short hairs, keeping him in a room he couldn't flash out of. Damn them. He punched the ravaged wall again just as a searing pain ripped through his brain. With a shout, he fell to his knees.
    Images bombarded him; a boy and two adults. He planted one hand on floor and tried to get up, but instead fell back down in a heap. A groan rumbled up his throat, while in his mind voices told him to focus on what they were showing him. To see the good that was still in him, that he could be so much more.
    Sons of bitches, they had no right to mess with peoples’ minds like that. “Get the fuck out of my head! I know what I am. I don ’t need you trying to brainwash me into thinking I'm something else. If you want to mess with me, get your asses in here and face me.”
    Another blinding surge streaked through his skull, so powerful he passed out cold on the floor. More images appeared inside his unconscious mind; showing him, wooing him, luring him towards the good that they insisted still existed. As if in a dream, he blinked, feeling different, not himself. And then a female adult’s voice called to him. “Cole. You need to listen to us. You’re not like the other kids.” He turned, finding a male just a few yards away, and beside him, the most beautiful woman Cole had ever seen. Where the hell was he? And who the fuck were these people?
    He looked down to find that his body was no longer his own. It was the size of an eight year old boy. Was this some kind of sick joke?
    “Why am I different?” he finally asked, glaring at the two strangers. This was obviously some crap the do-goodies where testing him with. Whatever. He'd play their game. No hair off his ass. Hell, he was in an eight-year-old’ body, he didn’t even have hair down there.
    The woman spoke up again. “Because you’re special, Cole.” She pulled him into a hug and held him like she didn't want to let go. He frowned, not understanding what they were trying to do.
    He turned his head toward the male. “Tell me why I’m here.”
    The man sighed heavily, dodging his question. “The good that’s inside you will always be who you really are. Your traits just make you extra special.”
    Cole knew this shit couldn't be true. He’d been told he didn’t have a family, that he’d been made and not born. Why would these people try to convince him otherwise?
    Abruptly he woke up , face-down atop the stuffing-covered floor. He looked around. He was in the same damn room as before. With a groan he pushed up on his hands and knees, wincing at all the white. Damn, don’t these asses know any other colors? Even puke green would be better than all this fucking white.
    Slowly standing, he lifted his chin in defiance. He wasn’t about to let those fluff heads cow him down. Well aware that they could hear him, he snarled low, “Do you really think I'm going to believe that I came from good? That I was created as a human? Try again, idiots. I know where I came from and it wasn’t from those June and Ward Cleaver wanna-be's. You think I don't know? Fuck you and the cloud you live on.”
    Fresh images plowed through his mind, this time knocking him out without warning. For a second time, he dropped like dead weight to the soft, white, padded