Stolen (Edgefield Slayers Book 2)

by Laken Cane

  Krista didn’t look at him. “Why can’t you kill him? When you’re right there, punching him, hitting him with your power, why can’t you fucking kill him?”

  He waited for her to look at him. “No one can,” he said. “I can only attempt to take him home.”

  “Why can’t you get him home, then?” she asked. “What’s stopping you from grabbing him and taking him the hell home?”

  “His power is too great.” He looked away from her, and she swore there was shame in his eyes. “If the souls are released, I can force him back. Until then, all I can do is protect you.”

  “Both those things are impossible,” she murmured. She couldn’t resist touching his arm in apology. “If you fail to take him back to your king, what happens to you?”

  “He will be angry that I disobeyed him.” He shrugged. “You are not to worry about that.”

  “You can’t survive here,” Luke said.

  “No,” Trig said. “Not for long.”

  Krista turned and left the room. She was overwhelmed, and she couldn’t take another second of horror. They let her go.

  The paramedics arrived as she exited the house. “Ma’am,” one of them called. “Do you need help?”

  She kept walking, trying to think of a solution, pretty sure there was none. When she reached her car, she was surprised to see Rafael still there.

  “Why are you here?” she asked, suddenly furious. “You stand around with your coldness and your weakness and watch, ineffectual and powerless. Go away, Angel.” She rubbed her eyes, her emotions changing from rage to tears in seconds. “Go away.”

  He leaned forward and peered into her face. Behind her face. Into her, somehow.

  She cried out at the invasion, stumbling back against the car. “No.”

  He closed his eyes in a long blink, and when he opened them again, he looked…resigned. “He touched you.”

  “So?”

  “He will try to take you in the end. He will use everything he can to take you. Don’t accept the darkness, Krista. You will be no good to this world if you do.”

  She reached out a hand to touch his arm and then drew back before he could recoil. “Please. Won’t you help us?”

  “I can’t,” he murmured. “I can’t. I’m sorry. Krista.” He closed his eyes for a few seconds, but not before she’d glimpsed a depth of pain she wasn’t sure she understood. When he opened them, they were back to normal. Veiled, cold. Emotionless.

  “Why are you here?” she whispered. “Just tell me the truth.”

  He tilted his head, but his face never changed expression. “I am here because my superiors believe you will need me to be.” Something in his voice said he didn’t quite agree with that decision. And once again, he peered into her eyes with an intensity that made her want to hide.

  Then he turned and walked away, leaving her staring after him, her heart in her throat. She didn’t know what had happened.

  She only knew it terrified the living hell out of her.

  12

  She needed Triganoth.

  That need was so abruptly huge it shook her entire body, and without thinking about it, she raced back down the street toward the house where she’d left him. He wouldn’t still be there, she knew he wouldn’t, but he had to be.

  She needed to be wrapped in his arms and calmed. She needed sheltered. She needed to let go. She needed some quietness in her head before she lost control.

  Triganoth could make that happen.

  “Trig,” she cried. “Trig!” The mark on her face began to itch. People came out of their houses to watch her, wondering, perhaps, what disaster had befallen their street now.

  Some of them jumped from their porches to follow her. Maybe they thought they could help. She wouldn’t be able to leap into Trig’s arms with an audience of curious humans. A demon slayer loving on a demon lord?

  No. Unacceptable.

  But she saw him ducking from the doorway of the terrible house, and she forgot about being acceptable. They weren’t slayers. They couldn’t see him the way she saw him. Maybe they wouldn’t even know he was a demon.

  He strode toward her and opened his arms, and she launched herself at him, her breath leaving her in one long, sob-filled sigh. “Trig.”

  If she could have, she would have burrowed inside him.

  “Move,” he told someone, and she shivered at the gruff order in his voice.

  But she shook inside, violently, and feared her body could not contain her mind. She was hurtling toward a massive breakdown.

  In a few short minutes, he was holding her against the wall of a house. The old brick was rough through the fabric of her top and she smelled mold and damp and the hint of an animal long dead. He tilted her head, baring the side of her neck to his lips, and he bit her.

  She relaxed at once. She closed her eyes, wallowed in that small pain, and gave herself to her demon lord. There was nothing else but the world inside his arms. She didn’t open her eyes. She needed to feel him. She did not want anything else to interfere with that.

  Just for a little while.

  “I’m here,” he told her, his voice a low caress. He held her with one arm and reached for the waistband of her jeans with the other.

  Her eyes popped open. “We can’t here. What if—”

  He growled. “Krista. Quiet. I will handle everything.” He took control of her, and that was what she needed him to do.

  “Okay,” she whispered.

  He had her naked in two minutes, and wound something around her head, covering her eyes. Her t-shirt, she thought. He gathered her in his arms, and his clothing slid silkily against her bare skin.

  He put her on the ground, arranging her how he wanted her—arms above her head, knees bent, legs open. Her body felt heavy, too heavy for her to move. When he left her, she continued to lie silent and still, her breath slipping through her parted lips, completely vulnerable, completely trusting.

  He slid his hands over her belly, up her ribs, to her breasts, and then his mouth followed the path his fingers took, soft lips, hard fingertips, warm breath.

  He encircled her throat with gentle pressure, then he pressed his lips to hers, slipping his tongue over her lips, inside her mouth, stroking her tongue.

  She breathed his name, whispered to him, inhaled his scent. There would never be a more perfect moment. He left her, but only once, and only for a few seconds, and she thought he was chasing someone away or making sure no one came too close. He would protect her, her privacy, her heart.

  If she hadn’t believed that, she couldn’t have given herself to him.

  She trusted a demon.

  When he came back, no part of him touched her except his warm mouth on her breast. He nipped and sucked and licked at her nipple, first one, then the other, and because there was nothing else to feel, nothing else to concentrate on, that sensation was everything. His tongue rasped around her stiff nipple, over and over, and the pressure between her legs grew heavier with each stroke.

  He slid a finger over her lips and she pulled it into her mouth and nipped it gently, then ran her tongue around it, wetting it. She cried out when he slid that finger between her legs, then pushed it inside her. He withdrew it and caressed the sensitive bit of flesh that most needed his touch, and he didn’t stop until she arched her back and climaxed on his hand.

  He pulled her arms from above her head and guided her hand to his cock, and she craved suddenly to see it, to see him.

  “Trig,” she whispered.

  He loosened the wrap from her head and tossed it to the side, and she opened her eyes, finally, and saw his face. He gave her a sexy half smile that melted her heart and set her body on fire.

  “Damn,” she said. “I’m in love with a demon lord.”

  “As I,” he said, his voice so low she almost didn’t hear him, “am in love with a demon slayer.”

  The waning daylight gave up its struggle and darkness descended, surrounding them with a blanket of tentative isolation.


  He squeezed her fingers around his erection. “Taste.”

  He didn’t need to tell her twice. She pushed his pants over his hips to get better access, and then she began to suck off a demon lord.

  Not something she ever thought she’d do in her lifetime, and she’d done it twice. And nothing had ever felt better. Well, almost nothing.

  He shoved her to her back and rubbed his dick at her opening, teasing her, and she rocked her hips, trying to take him, but she was going to have to work at it. He was that big. She felt a twinge of pain when he pushed through, stretching her, but it was a good pain.

  He kept his stare on hers as he fucked her, and the bond he’d started when he marked her and strengthened when he first had sex with her grew even stronger. Each touch, kiss, and each breath drew them closer together.

  “Thank you,” she murmured, when it was over and she lay in the quiet dark in his strong arms. And she realized it wasn’t the first time she’d thanked someone for good sex.

  He didn’t smile, and she saw something new drift into his eyes. Soberly, he watched her. “Krista.”

  “What’s wrong?” She wasn’t afraid, because there was no fear when she was in his arms.

  “Vogdris has you on his radar now. He will not kill you and he cannot mark you—but he will attempt to steal your beautiful soul. You must protect it. You must protect your light.”

  And there came the fear.

  Her stomach was so tight it hurt. A soul-stealer would have trouble taking the soul of a slayer, or any powered person. There’d be a struggle—a battle—and Vogdris knew as well as she did that trying to snatch her soul was as risky to him as it was to her.

  He’d be vulnerable when he opened himself up to pull her in, and unlike the children he’d stolen, she had the ability to actually fight him—and win. If he attempted to take her while other slayers were with her, they could kill him while his mind and magic were exposed and defenseless.

  “Keep them with you,” Trig said, as though reading her mind, “when I’m not here.”

  “Where is Vogdris now?”

  “I’ve slowed him down, and he is hiding to lick his wounds. But not for long.”

  She knew, though he wouldn’t say it, that Vogdris had injured him, as well. She saw his wounds, his bruises, the blood on his body. “You should have gone to heal instead of taking care of me.”

  He snorted. “This is nothing. Only my power is draining, and I must go to rebuild. But for you, I would delay.” He grinned, and it took her breath. “Get dressed and I will deliver you to your protectors. I would not leave you naked and alone.”

  She shivered suddenly as a chill swept her body. She clutched his arm. “Stay with me. I don’t want you to go.”

  “I would if I could.” Then he turned away, but there was despair in his eyes.

  After she’d gotten dressed, he handed her off to Luke and Talon, and only then did he slip away and return to his world.

  And try as she might, she couldn’t quite shake the feeling that one day, he would disappear and never find his way back to her.

  13

  With Vogdris’s sights on her, they all became a little more watchful. She almost hoped he’d come after her, because they would then have a chance to take him down.

  Later that night, the council called for an update. She assured them—lied to them, actually—that she and the other slayers were close to taking the soul-stealer.

  “You realize,” they told her, “that you might have three more days before he has absorbed all the souls. He has likely absorbed some of them already.”

  Yeah. She fucking realized.

  They decided to split shifts so someone would always be on guard. And since it wasn’t a good idea for Krista to work alone, the guys would take turns hunting with her.

  Someone needed to be on guard at all times, even though Vogdris seemed to take his rest during the day. They never knew when he might decide to change things up a bit. And there were still lesser demons to contend with—and though some of them couldn’t seem to help but come through in their own bodies, some of them still managed to come through the old fashioned way and possess the humans.

  The slayers were never lacking for work.

  And the fact that they were on a deadline—not only because of Vogdris absorbing souls but because of Talon’s weakening line—added to their anxiety.

  Talon asked if he could start staying at the house again.

  “Yes,” Krista said, softly. “You can.”

  He didn’t look at her, but he smiled. “It feels…” He shook his head, searching for the right word. “It feels right at your house. With everybody. Warm and happy.”

  She knew exactly how he felt.

  Barbie offered to help when she could, though she’d begun working for most of the medical centers and clinics along with her main hospital. Still, if they needed her, they could call and she’d be happy to lend a hand. Krista had started feeling like Barbie wasn’t really one of them anymore. She wasn’t sure why.

  But then the reason for her uneasiness smacked her in the face.

  A hybrid was in the hospital—Barbie’s hospital—and instead of calling Kyle’s office to report it, she called Asa.

  Apparently, the young hybrid was hit by a car. The EMTs had been unaware he was a hybrid and hadn’t taken proper precautions. When he’d awakened in the emergency department he’d transferred a bug to the doctor who’d been examining him. Half dead, he’d stumbled off to hide, and they needed an exterminator to come find him and cart him off before he generated another bug.

  Krista had been on the phone with Asa when Barbie called him. “Be careful,” she told him, when he came back to her call.

  He laughed. “I can handle an injured hybrid.”

  But she wasn’t worried about the hybrid. And finally, she told Talon, “Let’s swing by the hospital.”

  “The hospital? Why?”

  “I want to see Asa.”

  He didn’t question her further, thank God, just made a U-turn and headed for Edgefield Medical Center.

  “I’ll be a few minutes,” she said, when he pulled up to the emergency department entrance to drop her off.

  “I’ll grab a sandwich and a coffee. You want anything?”

  “No, I’m not hungry.”

  “Call me when you’re ready to go and I’ll come pick you up.”

  He drove away and she headed into the ED. “I’m looking for the exterminator who came in after the hybrid,” she told the security guard. The waiting area was packed full of coughing adults and wailing babies.

  “He just went in to check the rooms not ten minutes ago,” he told her. “I’ll get someone to take you back.”

  “Packed tonight,” Krista said as a woman led her through the door to the examining rooms area.

  “Flu season has arrived in Edgefield,” the nurse said cheerfully, then left Krista to her search for Asa.

  “Can I help you, Ms. Lennox?” a young nurse asked.

  “I’m looking for the exterminator you guys called in.”

  “Oh, Asa? He’s searching the rooms, he’d made it to room thirteen when I saw him a little while ago.” She leaned toward Krista, as though she had a big secret to impart. “I don’t believe the hybrid is still in the ED, but injured as he was, he can’t have gone far.”

  Krista smiled her thanks, then strode down the hallway. She heard the rumble of Asa’s voice coming from room sixteen, and took a deep breath, her stomach rolling, her chest tight. She was more nervous than if she’d been facing down a roomful of demons.

  She shouldn’t have been creeping about, spying on Asa, worried that Barbie was going to come on to him. Of course Barbie was. Krista knew it, and likely Asa knew it. She should have trusted him to handle it. Yet there she was.

  “Shit,” she muttered, and embarrassed, she’d turned to hightail it out of there when she heard Barbie laugh. “Shit,” she said again, and walked to room sixteen.

  The wi
de door was open, but the privacy curtain was pulled. She grasped the edge of the curtain, still trying to convince herself to turn and run when Asa spoke.

  “I’ll call it in once I get him in the car. Thanks for your help.”

  “No problem, Asa.”

  And that was it.

  There was a flurry of movement and the sound of wheelchair brakes being kicked off, and then the smooth swish of tires on a waxed floor. Two seconds later, one of them yanked back the curtain.

  But Krista was already halfway down the hall and turning the corner. She hoped Asa would never know she’d been so close to embarrassing them both.

  Obviously, she had trust issues.

  If fate hadn’t interfered, she’d have made it out of the emergency department with Asa none the wiser—but fate was a mischievous bitch who must’ve believed Krista deserved a spanking.

  Krista rounded the corner way too fast, trying to slip away before Asa or Barbie saw her, and smashed into two techs pushing a loaded gurney.

  The woman in the cot moaned with the sudden harsh stop, one of the techs yelled, and Krista bounced off the wall and smacked the floor, landing painfully hard on the side of her leg.

  “Shit!” She could feel the leg beginning to bruise even as she jumped to her feet and started to hobble away.

  “Krista?”

  She stiffened, closed her eyes in a long, slow blink, and then turned to face the music. “Asa! What are you doing here?”

  Barbie lifted her eyebrows, opened her mouth, then apparently thought better of saying a word. “I have to go do…something.” She hurried away.

  Asa didn’t take his eyes from her as the techs navigated their charge around the corner and disappeared, and she didn’t take hers off the unconscious hybrid he pushed.

  “Asa—”

  “Walk me out.” He began pushing the wheelchair and she fell in beside him, rubbing her thigh. He noticed. “Are you all right?”