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My Demon Saint

Page 7

by R. G. Alexander


  It must be the kitsune. Before she’d left he’d felt it, felt the change in her power. Felt her embrace that part of herself. Maybe he even helped it a little. If it took away some of her pain, gave her some peace, he was glad.

  Thinking of her made him ache. He didn’t want to ache. He just wanted to be alone. “She doesn’t miss a demon. She misses a character in a game. She misses Sinner.”

  “Bullshit.”

  The women gasped at Mac in surprise. Saint raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

  “It was you, Saint. You she was with. You she misses. And I’m sick of you wallowing. You don’t wallow.”

  “Why? Cause that’s your job?”

  Mac crossed his arms. “Yes, okay? I wallow, Thomas whines and you manipulate. That’s how this dysfunctional family works.”

  “I don’t whine,” Thomas whined.

  Margo chuckled and received a glare for her effort.

  Mac stepped closer to the edge of the bed. “Why are you giving up? Because she’s mad? Hell, I’ve been mad at you for a hundred years, and you’ve yet to leave me alone. Don’t you love her enough to drive her crazy? Enough to try?”

  “It’s because he’s afraid he’ll hurt her, demon that he is. Afraid he’ll either fuck her to death or lash out at her in anger.”

  Everyone sent the newcomer a surprised look, but Julie just smiled. “Manx, you’re here.”

  “How did he get in?”

  “Did you leave the door unlocked?”

  “Are you seriously asking me that? I have the best security sys—”

  “Guys,” Liam’s loud growl silenced Mac and Thomas. “We told him to come. He contacted us about a month ago.”

  “I did. When Demon Saint started to crash.”

  Margo’s tone was distressed. “The game is crashing?”

  Saint grimaced and studied Manx. He’d never seen the southern technofile in person before. Not a blue tattoo in sight, but he could still see his friend inside the normal packaging. Long brown, braided hair, and wire-framed glasses hiding deeply blue, troubled eyes.

  The game. Saint hadn’t considered that. Without him to guide it, without his interface, it would eventually start to degrade.

  Manx glanced at Saint apologetically. “I wasn’t aiming to step on your toes or anything, but I had to do something. Whole levels were disappearing so I, well, added a bit of myself until you got back on your feet.” He gestured to the iPhone in his hand. “I had no idea it took so much energy.”

  Of course not. He wasn’t a demon. “You can have it, if you want.”

  A muscle twitched in Manx’s jaw. “Generous of you. Since you tossed her away along with your responsibilities, can I have Ume too?”

  He had Manx up against the wall, his forearm pressing on his throat, before anyone could move. “Don’t you know I could kill you?”

  Manx held up his hand to stop the others from coming to his rescue. “But you won’t, Saint. Because I’m your friend. And you don’t hurt people you care about. Humans or Other. And you wouldn’t hurt Ume. Because you love her.”

  The room was filled with tense silence for one minute. Two. Then it happened. Saint could feel the smile blooming on his face. He couldn’t stop it. The same way he couldn’t stop the hope filling his human heart, the wicked plans forming in his demon’s soul.

  He did. He loved her. He’d never thought he could. Not really. Not like this. But he loved Ume. Waiting for the life and pain to drain out of him wasn’t working. Leaving her alone wasn’t working. He’d just have to try a different approach. He’d have to do things his way.

  Saint could barely hear Thomas and Mac’s banter through the excitement buzzing through his system, bringing him back to life.

  “Uh oh. I know that look. Julie, your cousin might be in trouble.”

  “You can say that again.”

  Manx choked. “I’ll say it if he takes his arm off my windpipe.”

  Thomas lifted his hands in the air dramatically. “This demon has been cleansed.”

  Saint licked his lips. “Hallelujah.”

  Chapter Eight

  Ume was walking. A simple act for most, but for her? She would never take it for granted again. Most times she didn’t even need the single cane. She smiled. Soon enough she would be back to her old self. And the first thing she planned to do with this newfound freedom was start running again. Maybe take a kickboxing class.

  The idea of punching and kicking something really hard without being arrested was appealing. She’d just been in one of those moods.

  For the last few months.

  Her cousin Julie had called, but Ume didn’t feel like talking. Especially, and she hated herself for this, to Julie. The woman was so happy lately. Deservedly so, but still. She didn’t want to hear about the latest mating escapade, or how her cousin couldn’t get any work done, or plan the wedding that her big family was insisting on, without Liam distracting her with his wolfy needs.

  She was a bad cousin. But, she swore to herself, she would be the best maid of honor anyone had ever seen. Julie had saved her life. Literally.

  Too bad no one could do anything about her heart.

  It had taken her a long time to beat them into submission, the feelings she had for Sinner/Saint. She’d tried to use logic; she’d never met him in person, she didn’t know who he really was. Though she knew what he was. Namely, a demon. And humans and demons didn’t mix. Not in her world. Hadn’t her mother’s death taught her that?

  Her heart didn’t care. It even argued back. She had kitsune blood in her veins, the protection of its spirit around her neck. A spirit she could now feel. One that had given her strength. She wasn’t exactly a normal human.

  And Saint was only half demon. Nothing like the one that had tormented her family. They could make their own rules.

  That argument had gone on for weeks. Weeks of crying into her pillow at night, of reaching for her laptop only to hurl it across the room. Weeks of waiting for a demon who never came. Never fought for her or asked for a second chance.

  Never gave his heart.

  In the end logic won by default. The point was moot if the demon didn’t love her back.

  She’d almost reached the grocery store when she saw it. One of those computerized billboards that showed advertisements for cologne and car dealerships.

  I love you, Ume

  Ume bit her tongue in shock and looked around. Surely that couldn’t be…? No, she straightened her shoulders and kept walking. There had to be at least twenty other Ume’s in the San Francisco area alone. Someone was proposing, in a grand scale yes, but not to her.

  She passed an idling car full of people and the radio blared, the station changing until she heard the distinct sounds of Blue Oyster Cult’s I’m Burning For You.

  She took a deep breath. Nothing to see here. A coincidence. Just keep walking, Ume. When she came upon yet another billboard, she didn’t want to look, but she couldn’t help herself.

  I mean you, Ume Wu. I love you. Saint Loves Ume. Clear Enough?

  Without a word she turned on her heel and walked home as fast as she could, not looking anywhere, not listening to anything. The cramp in her thigh wouldn’t slow her down. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be happening.

  Not even if she desperately wanted it to be.

  She opened the door to her house, locking it behind her, then walked the length of it making sure everything electronic was still unplugged.

  “Did you get my notes?”

  Ume shrieked and whirled around to find Saint sitting comfortably on her sofa. “Oh shit.”

  He winced. “Not exactly the reaction I was hoping for, but understandable.” He stood. “I’m not going to make a menace of myself, Ume. I mean, I could. I want to. I was planning on it. But I’ll try to leave you alone if you can answer one question.”

  She was trembling. Still unable to believe he was really here, in front of her. Anger and hope warred inside her, her stomach was in knots and her h
eart was racing.

  She’d really missed him. He made her feel alive.

  “What? What’s the question?”

  He pulled out his Blackberry and turned it around so she could see the box on the screen.

  The Demon has admitted he loves you. Do you love him back? Y/N

  She could feel the pearl warm against her chest. The kitsune spirit? Was it warning her or sending its approval? It was impossible to tell. She’d have to make this decision on her own.

  “You lied to me, Saint. Used your powers to pull me into a game without my permission. Tied me up and spanked me. All while making me believe you were someone else.”

  Saint paled. “Yes.”

  “You also showed me how my mother truly died, let me see the truth about my heritage, and played matchmaker for my cousin and Liam.”

  Hope flickered in his dark gaze. “Yes.”

  She tapped her chin thoughtfully. “I probably shouldn’t put the spanking in the bad category. Its not bad if I like it, is it?”

  Those full, beautiful lips of his were twitching. “That’s always been my motto.” After a few, long moments, she heard a groan rumble in his chest. “Ume, please. It isn’t a good idea to leave a love-sick demon hanging.”

  That just made her mad. “You mean the way you left me hanging for two mo—”

  He was kissing her. Finally. Yes. Just the way she remembered. She wrapped her arms around him and he made a desperate sound against her lips, as if he’d been just as lost without her, just as tormented as she’d been.

  Saint pulled back and tore his jacket off, dragging the white T-shirt over his head and letting it drop to the floor. Her Sinner. Her Saint. He was glorious.

  She sucked on her bottom lip, insecurity taking over for a heartbeat.

  “What is it, Ume?”

  She motioned to her chest, far less ample and obvious than it had been when they’d last been together. “Any false advertising issues? Beyond this point lies no bouncy castle.”

  Saint laughed, the sound rich and sensual, full of promise. He pushed her hands away and took off her shirt, inhaling sharply at the small golden mounds he found bare beneath. “You are perfect, Ume. Let me prove it to you.”

  He gripped her waist and lifted her off her feet, until her breasts were parallel with his mouth. “If you still had Plum’s body, for example, I couldn’t do this.”

  Ume gasped as Saint opened his mouth over her breast, her entire breast, and sucked hard. “Oh, my. That would be a shame.”

  He hummed his agreement against her skin, sending electric jolts of sensation through her body. Her body. Not a character’s in the computer. He was here, kissing her. Devastating her with his tongue.

  He carried her to her daybed. The daybed where she’d been trapped, in so many ways, before he’d helped to remind her that she was passionate. Alive. That anything was possible.

  He laid her down, still licking, lapping at her stiff, sensitive nipples. “You taste even better. How do you do that?” He glanced up quickly, catching her rapt gaze. “You never really answered my question.”

  Ume watched him stand and allowed him to lift her hips, and pull off her shorts and underwear without a word. She smiled as she watched him take off the rest of his clothes with impatient movements, his cheeks flushed, his eyes sparking with ruby light.

  “You’re not going to cut me any slack are you, plum blossom?”

  She laughed at the nickname. “I never heard a question.” She hadn’t. Technically it was true.

  Saint lowered himself over her, his thick shaft gliding across her thigh, making her pant. She was swiftly losing her ability to form coherent thoughts. It had been too long. She needed him.

  Her arms lifted but he caught them before they could wrap around his neck. “You can’t distract me. I’m not that easy, Ume.”

  She frowned playfully. “I thought the word we were using was responsive.”

  He refused to take the bait, shaking her lightly until she looked into his eyes. “You should know you are in trouble, Ume. Demons, by their very nature are demanding, possessive, and greedy as Hell. And the spawn of an Incubus? They’re born with a taste for hedonism that makes them the worst type of match. All issues that usually don’t matter because demons are not known for having hearts. For being able to love at all.”

  “Your sales pitch could use a little work.”

  Her breath caught at the trace of fear she could see in his expression. The sincerity. “I won’t lie to you, Ume. Not ever again. No matter what.”

  He didn’t have to say it. She could feel it. Love. Saint loved her. And he was afraid she was going to send him away. “Could we do it again? Go back into the game? Y’know. Just on special occasions?”

  Saint furrowed his brow, confused. “We can go anywhere you want, but I don’t know what that has to do with—”

  “Yes.”

  “Yes?” The red light flared to life once more. “You’re saying yes because of the video game?”

  Ume rubbed her hips against him seductively. “I’m saying yes because I love you too, you big sexy demon.”

  Shock loosened his grip and she slid her hands into his hair, pulling his head down until their lips were a breath apart. “Though I do miss my tails.”

  His laughter vibrated against her lips and warmth bloomed in her chest. Maybe demons were dangerous.

  But if you had their heart, it was worth the risk.

  About the Author

  R.G. Alexander has lived all over the United States, studied archaeology and mythology, been a nurse and a vocalist, and now, a writer. She is happily married to a talented chef who is her best friend, her research assistant and the love of her life.

  If you want to find out more, go to www.rgalexander.com or her group blog www.smutketeers.com.

  Look for these titles by R. G. Alexander

  Now Available:

  Regina in the Sun

  Lux in Shadow

  Twilight Guardian

  Midnight Falls

  Not In Kansas

  Surrender Dorothy

  Three for Me?

  My Shifter Showmance

  Wicked Sexy

  Wasteland: The Priestess

  Truly Scrumptious

  Wicked Bad

  A Shifter, A Vampire and A Demon walk into a bar…

  My Shifter Showmance

  © 2010 R.G. Alexander

  Shifting Reality, Book 1

  Thomas Lyons is your average cat shifter. Cool, seductive…and bored out of his mind. With the new popularity of all things paranormal, he doesn’t see why he should hide anymore. When his half-demon technophile roommate hooks him up with a computer, Thomas starts a blog announcing to the world who and what he is. Oddly enough, the more he shares, the less he’s believed. In fact, people begin thinking it’s a new online series with fantastic effects.

  Margo Sheffield doesn’t dance on tables anymore, not since her reckless naïveté cost her so much. These days, her only guilty pleasures are dark chocolate, shoes—and a certain website with a man whose purring voice sends shivers down her spine. When the show, Shifting Reality, offers a week in a haunted Scottish castle with the stars, it seems a far-off dream. But when that dream becomes reality, her boss’s insistence that she mix business with pleasure—or else—is more like a nightmare.

  Thomas’s focus on the show is blown by the luscious, camera-shy handful. And Margo can barely think about contracts when she’s surrounded by newlywed ghost hunters, a matchmaking demon and a man whose addictive touch makes her head spin. A showmance is the last thing she needs, but with a sexy cat like Thomas on the prowl…she just can’t resist.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for My Shifter Showmance:

  “None of that, now, Margo. Not between you and I.”

  That was all the warning she got before she was spun around and lifted in the air to settle, breathless, straddling his lap. “Mr. Lyons, I think we should talk about—”

  “Hush.�
� Thomas curled his fingers into her hair, pulling her down to meet his searching lips before she could get another word out. Margo’s last thought was, Oh hell, before the kiss scrambled her brain.

  He growled, the pressure of his lips opening hers as he sought entrance. God, his taste. And the way he was kissing her, exactly the way she’d always imagined he would. Greedily, hungrily…perfectly.

  Her sex pressed against his thickening erection, and through their clothes she could feel the heat of him. He was blazing. She slid her tongue across his fangs. His body jerked in reaction, and she did it again, loving the fact that she could make him respond to her. Make him as crazy as he was making her from one simple kiss. Who was she trying to fool? She’d been crazy for him since the moment she’d seen the first video. Her fingers dug into the muscles of his arms, wishing she could touch his bare skin, desperate for more contact. Closer. Harder. More.

  “Margo, baby…” He’d pulled away. Why had he pulled away? She looked at the agonized need tightening his expression, her brows lowering in confusion when he shook his head. “I never in all my years imagined saying this, but we should stop. We shouldn’t do this here. And if you keep grinding against me, I won’t be able to stop myself from tossing you on this table and taking you right now, in full view of our online audience.”

  Audience. The cameras. Hell. Chi and Liam were gone, but Margo knew each room had its own grouping of stationary cameras. She’d been grinding? Mortification stung her cheeks. She imagined the people online watching her behavior, maybe even her coworkers, and she tried to pull away, but he wouldn’t let her.

  He stood, holding her struggling body easily in his arms and strode swiftly to the kitchen, nodding at the Goth servants before heading into the large pantry room and closing the door.

  The lock turned with a click of finality, and Margo bit her lip. Would Darcy fire her for her inappropriate behavior? She huffed out a dark laugh. Her boss would no doubt wholeheartedly approve. As long as it got her those Shifting Reality rights.

 

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