The Price of Brimstone by Allie Gail

Author:Allie Gail [Gail, Allie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-07-17T16:00:00+00:00

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Chapter Eighteen

At first, I think I'm dreaming.

I'm in the most delightfully cozy bed, stripped down to my panties and bra underneath a soft down comforter, groggy with the mild sense of disorientation that comes from waking in unfamiliar surroundings.

Mmm. Smells nice, wherever I am. Woodsy, like fresh cut timber. Am I in a forest? No, wait. That can't be right. What would a bed be doing outdoors? Even in the dream world, that doesn't make a lot of sense.

Scaling into consciousness, it slowly dawns on me that the scent is familiar. Cedar, I decide. That's what it is – it's cedar. I breathe in and sigh, allowing myself a moment of sweet oblivion before opening my eyes to whatever reality awaits me.

I poke my head from beneath the snug refuge of the comforter and warily take in my surroundings.

Oh.

Oh, wow.

My eyes widen just a fraction.

This is definitely no forest. It's no Motel Six, either. Far from it. I'm in the bedroom of a private home, by the looks of things, and a very opulent one at that. The walls are paneled in golden cedar, as is the sloped ceiling, which explains the fragrant timber smell.

As a matter of fact, the more I look around, the more I discern that wood seems to be a prominent theme here. The bed frame itself is constructed of stripped logs and gracefully curving branches. The craftsmanship is nothing short of a work of art. Something this unique has to be handmade, and probably cost a small fortune.

Blinking, I scope out my new environment in amazement. Is this where Price lives? Doesn't seem the most conventional sort of demon dwelling. Not that I would know what is, but I sure wouldn't have expected this. Everything here is so charming and homey, like a picture taken from one of those interior decorating websites for mountain retreats. Spacious while still retaining a sense of coziness, and stylishly furnished with a distinctly masculine taste in mind. Mostly shades of rich, earthy browns, including the sheets and bedding that are currently tangled around me.

My eyes wander to the plaid-curtained window, and I note with surprise that it's dark outside. Holy cow, how long have I been asleep? Where am I? We could be hundreds of miles away by now! Trying to suppress my rising panic, I suddenly realize that for all I know we could be in an antechamber of Hell, and this room might be nothing more than a cruel illusion.

Oh, stop it! You're being ridiculous. Get a grip, dufus. Does this look like Hell to you? Don't let your imagination go nuts here.

Slipping my legs out from under the covers, I dangle them over the edge of the bed before sliding to the floor. It's nice and warm in here, even with me dressed in next to nothing. Still, an underlying chill hangs in the air, hinting at the freezing temperatures outside. I expected the hardwood planks to be cold against my feet, but they aren't.

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