Bound by Light by Anna Windsor

He grabbed the boy’s arm and forced him down to his knees, until the boy gazed up at him with desperate eyes.
    "How is our captive?" August asked quietly, maintaining the pressure on his son’s arm at a level just below what would be necessary to shatter the bone.
    "F-fine." The boy spoke through his teeth, a valiant attempt to hold back a response to the pain August knew he was causing.
    Good, good. That’s progress.
    August allowed himself a small flare of pride in the boy’s increasing fortitude. "I trust you’ve seen to her needs and comfort?"
    The boy nodded, still maintaining a neutral expression though he was slowly going pale. August released him and watched as the boy managed to walk quickly away instead of running. Yes, definitely improving. A few more months and he might be worth something after all.
    August then let his senses drift through the closed door into the bedroom, where last night’s catch lay naked and gagged and bound to the four posts of his bed. The little mystic, a woman who made a living as a phony fortuneteller despite her immense elemental potential, was conscious, and to the boy’s credit, clean and fresh and ready. August touched her deep down inside, ignoring her sharp cry of terror and resistance.
    He sighed.
    Conscious, but not yet with child.
    Ah, well.
    His human male body surged with arousal at the stream of images already flowing through his consciousness.
    He’d just have to try again.
     
     
    (8)
    Two weeks after the chaos at Charlotte Heart’s house, Jake was pissed that his research into the Stone Man and the Keres hadn’t turned up anything useful. He strode through the ceaseless gloom of the townhouse’s hallway, intending to give a few new archive books a go—but a few steps away from the fourth-floor library door, he sensed them.
    Damnit. Maybe this time . . .
    Jake reached deep within himself, seeking silence, calmness, lightness as he entered the space. The heavy oak door stood open because Merilee allowed visitors and researchers during daylight hours, and kept her sleeping area and chaotic archiving section closed off with curtains strung between bookshelves.
    Not that the curtains held back the mess. Papers peeked under the cloth—and behind those curtains . . . well. Managing the paper stacks was a major challenge. However, Jake had noticed a certain order to her seemingly explosive filing system. It was . . . kind of cute.
    And so far, he hadn’t had much trouble finding things, even when he was distracted by Merilee. Or hoping to see Merilee. Or hoping not to see Merilee. In general, torturing himself and finding nothing on his target subjects. Until now—only, it wasn’t information he had discovered in the big windowed room.
    It was demons.
    Quiet, he told himself as he took a few more steps into the large paneled area with its shining, polished hardwood floors and fancy area rugs. He almost smiled and lost his concentration when he noticed how Merilee’s paper stacks had begun to spill out on half the big tables in the library, but he caught himself and refocused as fast as he could. Walk like you’ve got wings—not that it’ll do any damned good.

    Every time he and Freeman went out for a bite or a beer, Jake’s report was always the same. Can’t find them. And when I do, they won’t talk to me .
    And Freeman’s response was always the same. Keep trying .
    Jake’s fingers curled into fists.
    Today would be different.
    Today he’d finally make a little progress.
    Tables and bookshelves and Merilee’s . . . um, mess, filled up every inch of the space, but the terrace doors and six sets of tall windows stood open, mixing the scent of leather and old paper with city air and car exhaust.
    Not exactly crisp and refreshing, but Jake inhaled it nonetheless, his mind stretching out at the sight of so much daylight surrounding him.
    His intake of breath gave him away.
    The three Astaroths standing in visible form near the back terrace doors winked