Possession

by J. R. Ward

  "And what's that?"

  There was a long pause. "We quit. You and I refuse to play the game anymore."

  Chapter

  Forty-five

  As Duke drove into his woman again and again, his body was on the best kind of autopilot, no thoughts contaminating the sex, no emotions clouding the purity of the pleasure. The tight hold on his cock was transmuted through every inch of him, each thrust and retreat echoing outward under his skin, everything magnified.

  It had never been like this with anyone for him. Not even Nicole back in the old days--

  The orgasm slammed into him, locking his hips tight into the cradle of Cait's pelvis, the rhythmic pulses of her own release milking him, making his head spin. Collapsing against her, he turned his face into her sweet, soft neck and breathed heavily.

  So impatient for her. Every time it seemed like it was the first.

  And he was still hungry.

  But they weren't taking the chance with doing a double again. Reaching between them, he held on to the base of the condom as he slowly retracted.

  "Where's your bathroom?" He had paid no attention to anything when they'd come up.

  "Over there."

  Rolling off, he went in the direction she was pointing, going through a narrow doorway, locating the light switch by patting the wall. His eyes blinked hard as he was momentarily blinded, but then he took care of things, flushing what they'd used, cupping his hands under some cold water and taking a drink.

  It was not a surprise that everything had its place, all the towels hanging precisely on the rail of the sliding shower door, the single toothbrush standing up straight in its holder, no brushes or makeup cluttering the counter around the sink.

  As he straightened and wiped his mouth off, he met his stare in the mirror.

  The unmistakable conviction that he was walking the same path he had before dogged him. G.B. was a seductive son of a bitch ... but she wanted Duke. She really did--

  Hadn't Nicole been the same, though?

  "Shut up," he told himself. "Just shut the fuck up."

  "Are you okay?" Cait called out from the bedroom.

  He hit the switch like he could turn off his thoughts, too. And as he walked back out, he hung tight to the way she had just been with him.

  As if to prove a point to himself, he returned to her with a vengence, fusing his flesh with hers, finding her mouth in the dimness, licking his way inside of her. He was instantly hard again, his body raring to go.

  Totally out of his mind, he took her from behind this time, maneuvering her onto her side, moving in tight on her. Easing her top leg up, he swept his palm down her smooth skin, grabbing hold behind her knee. Then he pushed inside, his erection finding her entrance like it knew exactly where to go.

  So smooth, so hot, even deeper, even better.

  Sweeping her hair aside, he bit at her shoulder, nipping at her, before twisting her head around so he could kiss her--but only for a short time. The rhythm got fast quickly, making it impossible to sustain the contact.

  When she called out his name? He nearly came. The only thing that stopped him was that he wanted to concentrate on the feel of her release. He wanted to know that he'd given that to her, that he was that close to the heart of her, that he alone was able to do that for her.

  Cait's fingernails bit into his side, and the flares of pain nearly pitched him over the edge--except then she went stiff underneath him, and he surged in deep and held still. Closing his eyes, he became acutely aware of everything about her, especially the way her hips moved against him, creating the friction, working herself.

  Just as she was slowing down, he knew it was his turn and he burrowed his arms around her so he could dig--

  "Shit!"

  He withdrew so fast, he nearly flipped off the bed.

  "Duke? What--"

  "No condom." He rubbed his face. "No condom, damn it, I'm sorry."

  "Did you--"

  "No, no, I didn't come." But talk about not having any game head going. "Thank God."

  She sat up and brushed her hair back. "Wow."

  "I'm clean--I never do stuff like this." And wouldn't that be more convincing if the mistake itself hadn't just happened. "I lost my damn mind."

  "It takes two."

  "My responsibility." As he flopped onto his back, he could feel his balls already protesting--and that was going to get worse. "I'm sorry. Shit."

  His cock lay hard, hot, and aching up on his belly, but that was not going to happen--

  Her gentle hand landed on his hip, and he jumped.

  "You didn't lie about that, did you," she whispered.

  "What?"

  "You didn't ... you know."

  Lifting his head, he looked down his own body. "No." He stopped her before she could make contact. "And it's okay."

  She frowned. "Are you trying to punish yourself?"

  "Seems right to. You don't want to have my kid, trust me."

  "You stopped in time, Duke. It's okay."

  He could tell by the way she slid in beside him that she wanted to help him out, but the burn of denial felt right, felt appropriate.

  A small balance of the scales for him not having taken care of her properly.

  "Duke, please let me--"

  "No, I'm good." He kissed the top of her head. "Don't worry about me."

  "Excuse me?" Jim demanded. Surely he couldn't have just heard his psychotic enemy suggest that he was going to be the new Nigel ... and that that could be avoided only if they pulled out, so to speak.

  Whatever. One thing he was certain of? He absolutely, positively was not going to step into the spats that Nigel had always worn--that was not going to happen. She had to be wrong. Had to be...

  Except the demon didn't budge, meeting him square in the eye. "You and I quit."

  He laughed in a hard rush. "You've said some fucked-up things, Devina, but this tops 'em all. Congratulations."

  "The game can't exist without us. If you refuse to play--"

  "Then you're going to win the next two rounds and it's game over. You don't honestly think I'd fall for that?"

  "But I refuse to play, too. It's over."

  Jim crossed his arms over his chest. This whole savior thing had not been presented to him as a choice: Either man up, or your mother is going to be lost to Hell forever. What other option had he had? So, yeah, not a lot of decision-making there for him. And accordingly, it had never dawned on him that he might simply be able to ... stop.

  Provided Devina did as well.

  In which case, nobody won--or lost.

  "They'll just find someone else," he said, aware that that was a question. "To fill both our shoes."

  "Wrong. There is nobody else like me. I am a sole creation, unique to the Maker's vision. Well, I am now that my predecessor's dead."

  He could certainly see how one of her was enough for the universe. "This is not up to us."

  "Bullshit. The Maker may have created everything, but He gave us free will. You think He ordained Nigel to do what he did? Hell, no. Nigel chose that path--and if anything, his actions prove my point. We have choices in this, too."

  "Not on this level. Not with what you're talking about."

  "That is the weakest thought you've ever had."

  "Maybe. But I could still win this, and then I'm rid of you."

  "No, under the rules, you get to be Nigel for the rest of your unnatural life. You mean to tell me you're going to be satisfied eating crumpets and babysitting for that castle up there? You'll lose your fucking mind."

  Jim paced around, shaking his head. "You'll excuse me if I don't take all this at face value. You aren't exactly known for an altruistic nature."

  "This whole war is a fucking waste of time. It's nothing but a contest for His amusement, and I have no intention of being a trick pony for Him anymore--if you also are willing to stand down."

  They stared at each other for a long moment. The takeaway, Jim supposed, was that even with the win th
ey'd bartered for, she wasn't sure she could come out on top. Therefore, this plan was her strategy for winning it all: Get Jim to flake out ... and then take everything because of a forfeiture.

  Thinking that she was coming at this in any way but for her sole benefit would be like expecting a rattler not to use its fangs.

  "I can't trust you," he said evenly.

  She jutted forward on those heels of hers. "And I already know your word is for shit--or do I need to remind you that you lied to my face. The difference here is, I've never given you a vow to break."

  "There's always room for Jell-O, sweetheart."

  "Try me."

  "Couldn't we start with something easier, like you borrowing a fiver from me?"

  "Joke all you want. But I'm right about all this--and do the math. It's mutually assured destruction, so the playing field is leveled."

  "Yeah, but come on. Assuming that you're not fucking me completely, and I really don't believe that for a heartbeat, do you honestly think if we go to the Maker and hit Him with this, that He'll be all, 'Whatever, you guys,' do you? Not going to happen."

  "Won't be the first time He's hated His creation, I'll tell you that. And what is He going to do? Make me act if I don't want to?"

  "But according to you, if Nigel's dead, my fate's sealed--so technically, I'm out of the game already."

  "Not if you quit, Jim. Not if you stop playing right here and now." When he fell silent, she nodded. "You think about it, and then you call me."

  Jim expected her to sidle in for a kiss. Instead, she just gave him another long look ... and then she was gone into the night.

  Left alone, he turned back to the house, where he had to imagine there was a round two or three going on.

  She hadn't even tried to get to the soul in play. And she'd shown up without minions, without some sex ploy, with nothing but her charming self, and a bright idea--not her usual MO. But come on, he wasn't going to be a fool.

  Yeah ... the only rationale that made any sense was that she'd decided she really couldn't win this. Except ... they were even, now, and she was arrogant--so he wasn't sure he could buy that. Then again ... they were two-two only because he'd given her one of the rounds.

  Jim wandered slowly back into the house, passing through the door again, sitting back down on the sofa.

  She had a point about the free will thing. Choice had always been part of the human experience, for good and bad. Did that apply to angels and demons, too?

  It had never dawned on him that he could opt out of this bullshit.

  And Devina was right.

  He did not want to be Nigel when he grew up.

  The question was, how could he independently verify all of it. And how much time did he have before the Maker came a-knockin' ... and Jim ended up with a "promotion" he didn't want?

  Chapter

  Forty-six

  Cait was back in the Palace Theatre's parking garage.

  She was once again on that ramp that ran down between levels, walking fast, hearing the footsteps of someone behind her.

  Panic got her going even quicker as she shot out to the lower lineup of cars and broke into a full-on bolt. Dragging her purse in front of her, she dug into it for her phone--

  A gun. This time she had a gun.

  Instead of her cell, she took out something mean and black. It was loaded, although she didn't know how she knew that, and as she gripped the weapon, her palm fit perfectly, sure as if the thing had been made for her.

  In the manner of dreams, she kept running, heading for the doors of the elevator that seemed to be ten miles off in the distance and staying that way. And in her wake, her attacker was getting tighter on her, closing in--

  In the blink of an eye, she was at the vertical pair of buttons, one arrow up, one down. She jabbed at both with her left hand, craning around, waiting for whatever it was to come out of the shadows.

  The ceiling lights were extinguishing one by one, tracking the figure, always a step ahead so she couldn't see who it was.

  Punching the buttons--she was punching the buttons as those illuminating fixtures went dark and death came for her.

  The doors were not opening. This time she was locked out of her escape.

  Spinning around, she slammed her back against the elevator's closed entrance and put the gun up at chest height.

  "No!" she screamed. "Stop!"

  Whoever it was just kept coming. For an eternity, she stood braced for death's approach, time slowing to a crawl even as her heart fluttered in her chest and her blood boiled with terror.

  "Noooo!"

  Losing control, she pulled the trigger over and over again, shooting at whatever was coming at her, the popping sounds echoing all around, the recoil vibrating up her forearms and into her shoulders. The more she squeezed off rounds, the faster her attacker seemed to come--

  The lights directly over her head were the only ones that stayed on. So she finally saw what she was firing at.

  Her scream was louder than the gun--

  "Cait! Cait, wake up!"

  Someone was in her face, holding her arms, getting in the way.

  Stuck between reality and the nightmare, she pushed against a solid weight, trying to get away, panic overtaking higher reasoning.

  "Cait!" The voice, the deep male voice, chipped a crack in her fear. "Easy, there--it was a nightmare, whatever it was--just a dream, Cait."

  She froze, everything except for her breathing going still. "... I was going to die..."

  "Come here ... lie on me, come here."

  Duke. It was Duke with her in the bed, and the instant she made that connection, she collapsed into his bare chest, his arms wrapping around her and holding her tight.

  "Shh, you're okay. I got you."

  The shivering came next, her whole body quaking. "Thank God you're here," she said roughly. "Oh, God..."

  If she'd woken up alone?

  "You're all right."

  "It was awful ... it was so real--I was back in that parking garage, getting chased--"

  "What parking garage?"

  As she told him what had happened to her, she felt him stiffen underneath her, his powerful body tightening up as if he were prepared to go out into Caldwell and find whoever it had been--and kill them.

  "Except, in the dream, I had a gun, I was shooting--but at the last moment, it ..." She covered her face with her hands and felt like throwing up. "It was a horrible corpse attacking me, a rotting half skeleton with glowing black eyes--it was so real..."

  Gradually, thanks to him stroking her back with his broad hand, she calmed down.

  "I wish you'd told me about that sooner," he said, after she finally sighed and relaxed.

  "The police haven't found anyone."

  "Bad part of town, that theater district."

  "I know."

  In the silence that followed, she thought of G.B.

  She propped her chin on Duke's chest. "Just so we're really clear. I'm not seeing him anymore."

  "The singer?"

  "Yes. I'm going to call him tomorrow."

  "So he doesn't know about this. Between you and me."

  "He will, though."

  Duke tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. After a while, he said, "Good. I'm a one-woman kind of man." He leaned up and kissed her. "Well, when it comes to you, that is. And as for what went down in that garage? I wish I'd been there to help you."

  Funny, that was just what G.B. had said. Then again, there was a commonality to the protective instinct in men, wasn't there.

  Duke frowned. "It was just before you came and saw me at the club, wasn't it." When she nodded, he cursed. "Great. I jump you like an animal--"

  "I wanted it, remember." She traced his jaw with her fingertips, feeling the stubble of his five-o'clock shadow--or five a.m., or whatever the hell time it was. "I debated going to see you for the longest time."

  "Yeah?"

  Boy, it was so much easier to talk to him like this, lying close in her
bed, the soft light from the hall glowing over the planes of his face.

  "As I told you, it's been a long time for me."

  Duke pulled her in for another kiss and then rolled her onto her side. "Was it worth the gamble?"

  "And the wait."

  With slow, lazy strokes, he licked his way into her mouth, and it was funny how it no longer felt so strange to put her arms around the back of his neck and feel his pecs on her naked breasts. This was natural; this coming together was like breathing, necessary and easy.

  Parting her thighs, she welcomed him in close, and this time they both went for the drawer, making sure that a condom was in place before things got too far.

  Thank God he'd caught that mistake when he had. Although that punishment thing had seemed a little unnecessary.

  Slow, loving, and tender.

  As he entered her, she sighed and wrapped her legs around the backs of his thighs, giving herself up to the communion. He moved like a wave on top of her, the pleasure building slowly, cresting into a shimmering climax that went through her and lingered, her body tingling, a pleasant sense of falling overtaking her.

  And then his orgasm followed, his hips tightening, his breath hitching in. As he worked himself in and out of her, she ran her hands up and down his surging back, the smooth skin and tight muscles undulating under her palms.

  "I'm glad you're here," she whispered when he finally fell still.

  "Me, too--"

  A flash from outside sent a fresh source of light into the room, illuminating them both.

  "What the hell?" he said looking around.

  "Was that lightning?"

  "Not this time of the year, it isn't," he said grimly as he withdrew ... and got out of bed.

  Chapter

  Forty-seven

  Jim was not leaving the pair of them unprotected. As he stood with his hands on the outside of the woman's cute little house, he passed some energy from his core into the structure itself, the transfer creating a brief flare of light ... along with a protective barrier that would warn him if the demon, or any of her types, crossed its threshold. It would also inform him if that man or woman took off as well.

  He was so over sleeping on her couch, however. It was five a.m., well, nearly six, actually, and he wanted to go home to catch an hour of sleep, have a shower, food up. The truth was, he was dizzy from lack of rest and nutrition, and as much as he was committed to this round of the war, his years at XOps had told him that he was a danger to himself and others if he got as worn-out as he was.