"Sheriff Walsh." He extended his hand. "My deputy, Nolan Foster."
Declan Meruda shook the Sheriff's hand and nodded to Foster, the deputy. A multimillion dollar tech Corp CEO was at a place he shouldn't ever be in his entire existence. It was bad news for him if word went out that his wife was caught up in a murder case.
Naomi relaxed into his side as he conversed with the cops, asking them questions. She had thought the sleep walking had stopped. She didn't think it would start up on the night of their honeymoon. But then again, Declan was supposed to be with her throughout, protecting her. She wondered where he had been at midnight if it wasn't their suite.
"I'll take her with me, Sheriff," Declan said.
"She's still a suspect."
"I can't leave my wife here. She needs medical attention."
Naomi saw Nolan Foster watch her within the while. He was a kind man; she figured. He had cared for her since the minute he met her, and she was grateful for it. Deep down, she felt a powerful pull towards the deputy Sheriff. A connection thick and so detectable she didn't know what it was.
"A sleepwalker can still cause damage. They're believed to be out of their minds, you know." Walsh crossed his arms. "What I'm saying is the possibility that your wife perpetuated the act is still high."
"Is your hearing not right? I said she is not your murderer."
Declan was getting riled up. Naomi could see that. His tone was growly and edgy. She didn't like the back and forth going on; being within the premises was making her feel dizzy. Soon, the world around her began to spin.
"Chief, I think we should put Driscoll on their watch," Nolan said out of the blue.
"I will not let a suspect walk free."
"She's not walking free. Driscoll will keep tabs, at least until she's not dizzy anymore."
The deputy Sheriff's voice drowned out. She didn't hear the last part, no one did. Naomi's ears buzzed. She grew lightheaded in that second and then suddenly, she dropped, blacking out.
Declan had caught her at once, screaming her name frantically. Without delay, they rushed her out of the ocean view restaurant inside the ambulance. Driscoll and he sat in the back with Naomi splayed out on a stretcher. Her lungs had almost failed at some point. He couldn't understand what was happening. There was a medic in there with them, trying to revive her.
Declan held her hand tightly in his hands and placed it to his mouth. He kissed it, silently praying that the medical officer would find a pulse. The ambulance sped through the dark streets, only its headlights and the full moon above were cutting through the surrounding blackness. He still couldn't understand why his wife's heart was failing. Sleep walking had no medical consequences. She looked dazed when he had found her, but she was fine, until this happened.
"Help me with that." The medic gestured to a blanket beside Driscoll. The officer picked it and handed it over.
She had a pulse, but now her temperature was running below twenty-seven degrees, which should be humanly impossible.
"Why's she cold?" Declan stood alert. "Hey! Why's her body so cold?"
The medic grumbled something about being short of hands; that the last man on his team hadn't come along with them. For all he knew, he was missing.
He said, "Relax, Mr. Meruda. She's alive and stable. I can't explain her unusual temperature, but we are almost at the hospital."
___
Naomi opened her eyes. She woke up to a dark large room dunked in still silence. She felt the material of the bedding beneath her palms. It was velvety. A short silk nightgown that had tiny hands clothed her body and her long, lush black hair was tied into a bun. Behind the thick black drapes in the room was night. She stood and walked over, tipping the edge of a blind open.
Looking down, she realized she was so high up and inside a house she couldn't recognize. She didn't own a black nightie. These weren't her clothes. Naomi was confused and uncertain. She couldn't find any traces of Declan around. She grew wary.
Her bare feet carried her through the fluffy carpeted ground. After finding a switch, she checked the vanity table and saw nothing familiar. There was a door opposite it, and she pushed it without thinking, feeling apprehension slice through her at once. The last thing she could remember was sitting on a sofa underneath the dome light of a camper van and being interrogated by the Sheriffs.
The gigantic door creaked open. She stuck her head in first, then went all the way. As her eyes took in the entire room that hid behind the oak monster, her jaw slacked. At present, she was in one of those rooms that harboured shelves and shelves of sexual fantasies.
A bed centered the space. High and strong. She looked to her side and saw the tools—or should she say weapons of pleasurable torture she couldn't identify—hung while the others were splayed out on surfaces. Naomi didn't know whether to allow fear at the sight of the things she was taking in. This wasn't Declan's style. She didn't think it was hers either.
"Hello." She called and faced the centre of the room again, but froze when she saw.
A man was there. His back was to her. She was sure she hadn't seen him while walking in a minute ago. Now her heart was beating faster. She was in a total stranger's home, wearing strange clothes and no underwear.
"Who are you?"
The silence stuck.
Naomi thought about taking a run for it, but for how long? She didn't know the building plans. In such a large house, she was bound to lose her way and go missing. Then he would find her and harm her for trying to flee. She focused her sailing mind on the one thing that didn't seem off; the tattoo on the man's sculptured bare back.
She washed her gaze over his broad shoulders and muscular build. He was tall, like a god. His back had an image of wings on it. They stretched to his shoulder blades and the owner of the wings was a female. The art was darkly beautiful, and it drew her for some unknown reason.
The man turned and Naomi gasped, wide eyed.
Her heart sunk. She gulped and lost a step. The face that met her wasn't human. His eyes were red like blood and his ears protruded sharply. He had horns, two at the edge of his head. When he smiled sinisterly, the fangs in his mouth became clearer.
"Where am I?"
The demon approached her, and she trembled. The corner of his lip stretched into a smirk as he smelt fear. Naomi wondered when she would get her reply.
"Inside your head, Naomi," he said.
Aside the impossible response, she didn't know what she had expected his voice to sound like, but it wasn't the same thing as her thoughts. The sound of his voice was smooth and deep. The resonates of it feathered her insides till she was like wax under flames. Naomi realised her body found this demon attractive.
"I want out."
She saw him glance towards the shelves and a vague smile played on his lips. "There's only one way."
"I have a husband."
"Not in here." He moved closer, circling around her and gripping her shoulders. She felt the heat of him at her back. He nuzzled his face in her neck and it stopped her breathing. Her eyes fluttered closed.
Then he broke it and came around to her front. Naomi saw his face was different now. It was human and mesmerizing. She began tracing his hard jawline with her eyes and the fullness of his mesmerizing lips. Her gaze dropped to where his Adam's apple bobbed and her lips parted.
"In here, you're mine."
Desire took over. This was a stranger she had never met, yet the pull was so strong she didn't know how to resist. It was magnetic. Her breath hitched in her throat at the sound of his promise. She wanted to slap it all away, but her body had a mind of its own.
"Who are you?" She gulped, breathlessly.
"Your demon."
She was thinking, trying her best not to sound as afraid as she already was. "Why are you here?"
"You ask too many questions."
"Why?" She insisted.
"I only come where I am summoned."
"But I have a husband. Declan must be waiting for me. I have to go." She turned to hurry away.
But the demon thought otherwise. "Naomi!"
The growl boomed off the dark red painted walls and her breathing jerked. She froze at the spot, working on getting her racing heart under control. It wasn't working. Her heart thumped against her rib cage in rapid beats. There was no way out. She had no other option.
"Sit," he said in a low voice.