by Jaci Burton
He shook his head. “I can’t talk right now.” He clicked off and laid the phone down, and immediately felt a warm body pressed against his back.
“Lou’s dead?” Isabelle asked, her voice soft.
“Yes. The night we left Sicily. There was a demon inside the black diamond and Lou took it on. To destroy the demon inside him the hunters had to kill Lou.”
She laid her head against his back. “Dear God. I’m so sorry.”
Sadness emptied him from the inside out. Lou had been so understanding, so wise; he had been Dalton’s mentor. Incredibly kind and smart, he knew demon hunting, had understood the Sons of Darkness with a keen insight. Dalton had always been able to go to Lou with anything.
Lou had been his friend.
Devastation tore a hole in him.
“Come sit down with me.”
Warm fingers entwined with his, an equally warm body pressed up against his side. Like a robot, he followed Isabelle to the sofa and sat. He looked over to find her sitting next to him, tears filling her beautiful eyes.
“I’m so sorry, Dalton.”
Even though Lou, as Keeper, had been instrumental in ordering Isabelle killed, she still mourned his death. Dalton turned and pulled her against him and she snuggled close, laying her palm against his chest.
“It hurts to lose someone you care about.”
He didn’t say anything, had no answer. She was right. Despite trying not to care for anyone, it had happened.
A human quality-caring. And when he cared, people died. It would have to stop.
“I need to go out and get some air.”
He stood. So did she.
“I’ll go with you.”
He shook his head. “I appreciate it, but I really just need to take a walk. By myself.”
“If it was me this happened to, would you let me go off alone?”
He looked at her. “That’s different.”
She slipped her hand in his. “No, it’s not. You don’t need to be alone right now. You don’t have to make small talk or even say a word, but I’m not going to let you go wandering off by yourself. I’m going with you.”
He gave a curt nod. “Let’s go.”
They headed out the front door and down the walk. The night was cloudy, muggy; it was hard to catch a breath since there was no wind.
True to her word, Isabelle said nothing, just held tight to his hand as he wandered the path leading away from the cabin and into the darkness. He didn’t even know where he was going, only that sitting in the house, feeling the walls closing in on him, would make him crazy. He needed to be outside where he could wander, lose himself in the swamp and the trees and hear the night sounds, where every thought wouldn’t be about Lou.
They walked a long way, deep into the woods before he turned them around and headed back the way they’d come, guiding them back toward the cabin. When they reached the front of the cabin, he directed her to the two wicker chairs. “I’m not ready to go in just yet. Have a seat.”
Isabelle stared out toward the swamp they’d just returned from. “Didn’t it scare you to be out there, so remote, in the darkness?”
He smiled. “No. There’s nothing to be afraid of out here.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“What if demons had showed up?”
He reached behind him, lifted his shirt, and pulled out a laser pistol. “I’m not stupid. I never travel without being armed.”
“Oh.”
“That was one of the first things Lou taught me. Always have a weapon close at hand. You never know when you’ll need it.”
“Sounds like Lou was a smart guy.”
“He was. A good leader, too.”
“And a friend?” She reached for his hand again.
“Yeah.” The guilt poured over him. “I should have been there.”
“What could you have done?”
“I don’t know. Something. I left the team-I just should have been there. It was my responsibility.”
“To do what? To help them kill Lou? Or do you think you could have stopped it from happening?”
He pulled away from her, laid his head in his hands, and dug his fingers in his hair. “I don’t know. Nothing would have changed. You can’t change someone’s destiny. What’s meant to be can’t be altered without screwing up a lot of things. I of all people should know that.”
“What does that mean?”
He lifted his head. “Nothing.”
“Dalton, why do I feel you’re keeping something from me?”
“It’s nothing. I’m just rambling.” He stood. “Let’s go inside.”
She stood, but instead of going inside, took a few steps off the porch, then turned to face him. “No. Tell me what you meant. You’re talking about me, aren’t you?”
“What?”
“The whole changing of destiny and not altering things. That’s what you did with me, and look how it’s messed everything up.”
“That’s not at all what I’m talking about.”
“Yes, it is. I was meant to be with the Sons of Darkness. Or destroyed by the Realm of Light. What you did changed that. And now Lou’s dead and it’s my fault.”
Wow. Women and their leaps in logic. How did she manage that one? He walked down the stairs toward her, grasped her by the shoulders, and looked her in the eyes. “No. Lou’s dead because he made the choice to absorb a demon, knowing what the outcome would be. That would have been the same no matter what happened to you. And no one is meant to be a demon. That’s not your destiny. I don’t believe it any more than I think you do.”
“Don’t I? You have no idea what my life has been like. You’ve only known me a short period of time. You don’t know the impulses I’ve had, the darkness that’s buried just under the surface.”
“You think you’re the only one who has dark impulses? That’s human nature.”
“Is it? Is it human nature to set fire to a bungalow with people inside? Or try to kill my own sister?”
“It was never proven that you were the one who set the fire your mother mentioned in her diary.”
“I had the matches on me. My mother said I smelled of smoke.”
“Do you remember doing it?”
She shook her head.
“Then how do you know you had anything to do with it?”
“Oh, come on. You’ve seen my memory lapses. Who knows what I’m capable of. It fits, doesn’t it? I was always different, Dalton. I hurt people. And I hated Angelique my whole life.”
He smoothed his hands over her shoulders. “I think you’re normal, Isabelle, with normal human frailties. Maybe you were selfish and self-absorbed before. Lots of people are. That doesn’t make you evil.”
She lifted her gaze to him. “You just like to see the good in people.”
His lips lifted. “Sometimes. And often there isn’t any. With you, there’s plenty of good.”
“You were there the night in Sicily. You know what I am, what’s inside me.”
“And that’s the only time I’ve seen evidence of the demon inside you. The night the Sons of Darkness took you over and controlled you. So why are you damning yourself because of that one act?”
She put a fist against her stomach. “Because it’s still in me. I feel it, fighting inside to get out.”
“If you were truly evil, don’t you think the demon part of you would be winning? We wouldn’t be having this conversation. You’d be trying to kill me.”
“I’m trying to fight it.”
“Which proves what I said. You’re not evil.”
“I wish I could believe that. Why do you believe in me?”
“Because I know what’s inside you, what you’re capable of, even if you don’t see it.”
“You think my humanity is my salvation.”
“Yes.”
“Prove it.”
He frowned. “How?”
“I’m human right now, Dalton. This is me, the human Isabelle. No demon in sight. Pro
ve that you believe in me.”
She tilted her head back, her golden-green eyes mesmerizing. The fullness of Isabelle’s lips drew him, and suddenly tasting her became more important than breathing.
Really bad idea. Taking what he shouldn’t take and letting human needs get the best of him had been his downfall. He couldn’t let it happen again.
He was stronger than his own desires. He hadn’t been before. That’s where he’d made his mistakes. Thinking with your emotions and your heart got you in trouble every time. Logic always won out if you listened to it, and logic told him any involvement with Isabelle other than what he was here to do spelled disaster for both of them, no matter what Georgie had suggested.
But feeling Isabelle so close to him made his blood pound. It was as if they were connected, and he could hear her heart beating, sense the blood rushing in her veins. He picked up her scent, sweet and musky-a heady combination that entered his senses and drove him crazy. He dragged his fingers through his hair.
“Tell me what you’re thinking.” Her voice had gone soft.
“Nothing.”
“You’re a really bad liar, Dalton.”
“Am I?” He used to be really good at it.
“Yes.”
“And what do you think I’m lying about?”
“Your thoughts. You’re thinking about me.”
He let his smile show. “Isn’t that a little vain, Isabelle?”
“No. I could almost feel it, like you were touching me.”
Shit. “What do you mean?”
She shook her head. “I can’t explain it. I could feel your thoughts like a whisper across my skin. It happens when I think about you. Weird, huh?”
Weird, no. Uncomfortable as hell, yes. And her telling him this wasn’t helping his resolve to be stoic. His supposed impenetrable wall of reserve was buckling. The night was hot, and so was the woman in front of him. What harm would it do to-He felt something wet and lifted his head. The first fat droplets fell on his arm, then his face.
“It’s starting to rain. We need to get inside.”
She didn’t budge. “I don’t mind getting wet. And I’m not going to let you run from me this time.”
“I’ve never run from you.”
“Haven’t you? You keep telling me you trust me, that you think of me as human, but here I am, Dalton, asking you to prove it to me. This is your chance.”
The rain came down harder now, soaking them both, the wind picking up and whipping her hair around her cheeks. Her clothes were wet and stuck to her skin, outlining her breasts, her nipples. Dalton grabbed her hand and they ran onto the porch. He stopped, turned to her, his gaze raking every inch of her rain-soaked body.
She followed where he was looking, then lifted her gaze to his eyes. She wasn’t smiling, but he read every emotion on her face, from interest to desire to invitation.
She licked her lips. “Dalton.”
“Ah, hell,” he said, moving in on her, caging her against the front door with his hips. He threaded his arm around her waist and did what he’d wanted to do for days.
He kissed her.
CHAPTER NINE
Isabelle absorbed the shock of Dalton’s kiss. Her toes curled, her hair stood on end. She sizzled all over as if she’d experienced a lightning strike. And oh, it was the sweetest lightning ever.
Actual lightning pulsed just beyond them, along with a driving rain that seemed to feed off her needs. The primal energy of the storm surrounding them matched her own rising passion.
She knew it was going to be like this with Dalton-a wild maelstrom of intense heat turning her insides to liquid. Her nipples hardened against his chest, tingling every time he shifted to press closer against her. The length of his cock, hard and insistent along her hip, whipped her into a fury of desire. She slid her hands around to his back and lifted his shirt, needing to press herself against his bare skin. She wanted much more than this, but just to be able to touch him was going to have to do for now.
As it was, she was dizzy under the assault of his mouth as he performed magical things, his lips sliding against hers in a slow, tender dance. Could a woman faint from being kissed? She was losing her mind, every nerve ending in her body sizzling. She needed to quench this fire, and the only one who could do that was Dalton.
A kiss wasn’t going to be enough. She needed more. She lifted her leg, wrapped it around his hip, and surged against him in an effort to get closer, to communicate her needs. Dalton dragged his lips from hers and kissed her jaw, then reached behind her and grasped her hair, jerking her head back to bare her neck so he could lick the side of her throat.
God, the sensations were intense, like fire licking along her skin. He kissed her neck, her shoulder, still holding on to her hair so she couldn’t move, couldn’t look at him. She was stretched in an impossible position, her back arched, yet she wasn’t uncomfortable at all. Not with the way he took possession of her. She wanted more of his mouth and his teeth grazing over her skin. When he bit lightly into the tender skin between her neck and shoulder, she shuddered.
“More. Please, Dalton, hurry.” She lifted her hips, searching out the hard, hot part of him that would give her the greatest pleasure.
“Not yet,” he growled against her neck, then moved up and took her mouth in another kiss that blindsided her, left her breathless and clinging to sanity. She palmed his back, then moved her hands forward to touch his abdomen, feeling his muscles flinch there, loving that he reacted to her this way. When she moved her hand lower and dipped it inside the waistband of his shorts, he dragged his mouth from hers and pulled her head forward to look her in the eyes.
She gasped at the darkness she saw in his eyes, the hunger. He barely looked human. A normal woman could almost be afraid of a look like that, because it meant he’d lost control, that he was ready to take what he wanted.
She wasn’t a normal woman, and she wanted to give him whatever he wanted to take. And then she wanted to take from him. Whatever she wanted.
She wanted a lot.
“Yes,” was all she said, and Dalton scooped her up in his arms, pushing the front door open and kicking it closed behind him.
She thought he’d carry her to one of their beds. She was wrong. He marched the short distance into the kitchen, swept the napkins and a few other things off the kitchen table with one swoop of his hand, and laid her on top of it, then nudged the chair out of the way and loomed over her.
Her body prickled with desire. She felt like a feast. His feast. She bit down on her lower lip to keep from whimpering, then raised her hands to his wet shirt, dragging it up. He lifted, jerked the shirt off, then reached for her top, spreading both his hands underneath it, using his knuckles to raise it inch by inch over her stomach, her ribs, finally baring her breasts.
“Too damned beautiful,” he murmured. She sensed he wasn’t all there anymore, like he was in some kind of trance. She didn’t care, as long as whatever had taken hold of him took them where they needed to go, where she’d needed to go for a long time with him.
He cupped one breast and took her nipple into his mouth, devouring it like a man starved. He sucked, licked, rolled his tongue over the taut bud, teasing the piercing there until the sensations were like shooting fireworks, all heading south to that spot that burst with crazy need. Then he tormented the other nipple with the same sweet pleasure. She tangled her fingers in his hair and held on tight, certain she wasn’t going to survive Dalton’s lovemaking. It was equal parts tender and torturous, ratcheting up her desire to explosive levels. She felt like she was climbing a ladder one rung at a time, and unable to see the top. She knew there was nirvana up there, but she couldn’t quite make it. She needed help.
“Dalton.” His name left her lips on a ragged gasp as he slid his hand over her belly, delving into her shorts to cup her sex. He parted the folds of her moist and needy flesh, dipping into her core, exploring her with soft, deliberate strokes that sent her spiraling into oblivion. She’d gone
too long without and this was exactly what she craved, but she wanted to hold on, to take him with her.
But Dalton was relentless, using his fingers to stroke her into madness. He dipped, caressed, demanded her response that she couldn’t hold back. She climaxed with a blinding cry that Dalton absorbed with a deep kiss, shattering her completely. He held her while she rocked against him. She was too drugged with passion to do anything but hold on to him and tremble against his lips.
Her orgasm only served to whet her appetite for more. But when he removed his hand, he pulled her to a sitting position and backed away, dragging his hand through his hair. She saw apology in his eyes, regret, all the things she didn’t want to see.
Shaking from the aftereffects, she slid her legs over the table. “What’s wrong?”
He shook his head. “Nothing. I just … don’t think it’s a good idea to go further.”
“Why?”
“Because we should take this slow.”
The heat of embarrassment and anger suffused her face. She’d asked, and he’d answered. She’d wanted this tonight for so many reasons. To comfort him, yes, but also because she’d thought they were growing closer.
Obviously, she was wrong. He still thought of her as a demon, not a human. Not a woman. Oh, sure, he could get the hots for her, but he couldn’t see it through, because bottom line, she had demon blood. He could talk a good game about trust, but he really didn’t trust that she wouldn’t sprout fangs while in the middle of sex and try to kill him.
Could she blame him for that?
She jerked her T-shirt down to cover herself.
Dalton leaned against the counter, shirtless, his shorts riding dangerously low on his hips. The evidence of his desire was still outlined for her to see, to want. She was consumed with this inexplicable need to leap off the table and throw herself at him. Her body throbbed all over.
“I’m sorry, Isabelle. This is my fault. I got carried away.”
Un-freaking-believable. He couldn’t handle the demon side of her. He wanted a human lover, not a freak show. It was all too clear. She just wished he’d figured it all out before she’d become emotionally invested.
Way to go, Isabelle. One mistake after another.
