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The Redeeming

Page 12

by Jennifer Ashley


  A smaller demon with wings sailed under Tain’s reach and swooped behind them. He let out a stream of gelatinous acid that splashed up and down Tain’s back and all over Samantha.

  Samantha screamed. Tain swung around and swept the demon aside with a burst of magic. Samantha was already writhing on the ground, trying to claw the sleek liquid from her body.

  Tain threw a final blast of magic at the demons then dropped to his hands and knees to Samantha, desperately gathering his healing magic to pour into her.

  The acid was a thick glue-like substance that clung stubbornly to Samantha’s skin. It would eat her flesh to her bones in minutes. The thin silk dress couldn’t keep it out, and already her face was red with blood, her screams fading to hoarse sobs.

  The battle receded and grew dim. Tain saw nothing but Samantha, felt nothing but her torment. Sweat dripped from him as he willed all his magic into her, picturing in his mind the interconnected fibers of her skin and muscle knitting back together.

  He swore in several languages as the acid reopened the skin he’d just closed. Tain had to wash the goo off her or she’d die.

  Beyond the gate, blue and red lights flashed, and a helicopter cut overhead, training its spotlight on the compound. More bullets flew, this time between demons and the paranormal police that had come to put them down.

  Tain lifted Samantha and made for the gate. Police meant police cars, and one could get her to safety.

  Logan stepped in front of Tain, handgun ready. “Holy shit. What happened?”

  “She got acid-burned,” Tain said curtly. “I need to get it off her. Do you have a car?”

  “Sure . . .”

  “No,” Samantha said weakly. “Get one of the uniforms to take me. McKay will have your hide if you leave the scene, Logan.”

  “Paramedics can deal with acid burns,” Logan said.

  “Not fast enough,” Tain snapped. “Get me a car—now.”

  Logan swung away, galvanized into obeying. He signaled to a passing uniformed policeman and gave him instructions. In a few minutes, Tain held Samantha in the back of a patrol car, its lights flashing as they sped out of Beverly Hills to the grittier parts of town.

  Tain cradled Samantha in his arms, the black grill between them and the driver throwing spangled lights over her face. He whispered rapid words of healing as he sank his magic into her, trying to slow the corrosion.

  The uniform dropped them off inside Samantha’s complex, and Tain was out of the backseat and halfway up the stairs before the officer could offer to help take her inside. Tain growled at him to go, and the car peeled off.

  Pickles meowed and jumped onto the counter as Tain banged in and slammed the door with his foot. The cat sensed something wrong and followed as Tain strode down the tiny hall to the bathroom and cranked on the shower. Pickles sat down in the hallway and howled.

  Tain thrust Samantha under the shower’s spray, dress and all, and frantically scrubbed slime from her face with his fingers, her scented soap, and the water.

  Heal her. Cerridwen, help me.

  Tain was wet himself, his ruined clothes heavy with water. He pulled his coat off and dropped it on the floor, then began peeling the sodden clumps of silk from Samantha’s body.

  He knew exactly what it felt like to have his flesh stripped from his bones—the agony, the fear, the hope for death that would make the pain stop. He’d felt it every three days for seven hundred years, until his entire existence had revolved around pain.

  Tain never, ever wanted Samantha to know what that had been like. He didn’t want her to look into the mirror every day and see the scars from the ordeal, didn’t want her to loathe herself as Tain loathed the mess of his own body.

  Samantha’s head lolled, a weak moan escaping her lips. The acid had burned Tain as well, eating through the back of his coat, but he barely felt it.

  It took a long time. The shower water and soap at last began to soften the goo so Tain could scrape it from Samantha’s skin. He ran his hands over her wet body, willing his magic to ease the burns, close the abraded flesh, make her skin whole and new.

  Samantha began to come out of her stupor. She opened her eyes, which were whole and unburned, thank the goddesses, and looked wearily at the ruined clumps of silk scattered over her bathroom floor.

  “Oh, great,” she said, her voice faint and scratchy. “How do I tell the rental place their gown got slimed by a demon?”

  Tain closed his eyes, weak with relief, and gathered her against him.

  Samantha lay in his arms, aware of his slick body against hers, the tingle racing through her blood she realized was his healing touch. His life magic forced away the poison, healed her skin, and made her draw a deep, shuddering breath.

  Tain opened his eyes, the gleam of blue shining through. “You’re all right,” he said.

  “Think so. Not sure yet.”

  “Gods, Samantha.” Tain’s arms tightened around her, eyes closing again, his head bowed against her neck.

  Samantha stroked his wet hair, something breaking inside her. Holding him was like holding a wild beast, he taming himself to allow her to touch him.

  “I’m all right,” Samantha said. “I am now.”

  Tain started to draw away from her. Samantha saw the pain in his eyes, the darkness, the need to hold on, but he was pulling away again. Closing himself to her. Withdrawing.

  Samantha gripped his arm, bearing down, though she hardly made a dent in his skin. “Stay. Please.”

  Tain brushed her hair back from her face, his gaze meeting hers, then evading.

  “Please.” Samantha clutched at him, knowing she sounded desperate, but she didn’t care. “Don’t leave me alone.”

  In silence, Tain slid his touch to her breasts, fingers searching her skin for more acid. He moved his hand across her belly to her hips and round to her buttocks, touching, washing, healing.

  His own clothes, sodden, got in the way, and he impatiently pushed them off. His body came into view little by little as he discarded shirt then kilt. His skin was covered with scars, deep, horrifying ones. The wounds were a year healed now, but the pain he must have endured Samantha could barely comprehend. She touched the scars on his shoulders, wishing she could heal him as he healed her.

  “No,” he said, voice harsh.

  “I want you to be whole.”

  “I never can be.” Tain looked down at her, blue gleaming from half-closed eyes. “He hurt me, Samantha. Over and over. He’d hurt me, and then he’d shift his form and come to me as a woman, to sex me as I healed.”

  Samantha swallowed, not wanting to imagine that. “It’s over now.” She ran her hands across his wet skin, wishing she could erase the scars, the memories. “You’re free. You’re finished with it.”

  Tain opened his eyes fully, the anguish in them heart-wrenching. “No, I’m not. It’s all mixed up inside me. Pain and sex, jumbled together, until I don’t think I can have one without the other.”

  And that frightened him, she saw. Tain the Immortal warrior, who’d spared the demons tonight because he’d chosen, was afraid. He could have slaughtered the Djowlans and Lamiahs alike and disappeared to his Ravenscroft place, leaving Samantha to clean up the mess. That is, if he hadn’t simply killed her as well.

  Now Tain was afraid.

  Samantha kissed his scarred shoulder. She did it gently, barely touching him, her fingers tender. “It doesn’t have to hurt,” she said.

  Tain stilled. Again Samantha thought of a wild animal, nervous at an unfamiliar touch. She continued to caress him, remaining gentle, before she lifted her head and kissed him.

  Tain’s body jerked, then he moved his lips in return, shaking, uncertain. This was nothing like the hot frenzy with which he’d kissed her outside the matriarch’s mansion. Now Tain was seeking, wondering, fearing. Samantha skimmed her hand down his back, fingers slick with soap, and gathered him against her.

  Tain couldn’t move. His healing magic flowed through him and into Samantha
until her skin glowed with it. Her mouth moved against his, her lips slightly parted, the moisture of her hot and enticing.

  Samantha was small against his large frame, so mortal, so vulnerable, and so incredibly gentle. Her mouth was a place of warmth and quiet strength, and Tain needed her so much.

  He lost all sense of time and place, much like he did when he retreated into the darkness that always waited for him. For now, there was only Samantha and her heat, their lips meeting and parting, her hands on his body, fingers tracing the scars that reminded him of intense pain.

  But this time when Tain opened his eyes, he was on the floor of the shower, Samantha lying against him amid the ruins of her blue silk gown. Her skin was whole, the acid gone. She’d live, and be well.

  Samantha looked up at him as the water cooled. “Thank you,” she whispered. She smiled at Tain in gratitude, and broke his heart.

  The blanket was prickly on Samantha’s wet back as Tain laid her on the bed. She thought he’d follow her down, but he stood back and looked at her, his naked body dripping from the shower.

  He was breathtaking. Despite the fading white lines that crisscrossed his arms, thighs, and abdomen, his body was beautiful. He must have been incredible before his ordeal, and he still was. But now Tain wore the weathered, weary look of a man whose innocence had been beaten out of him.

  Samantha’s skin was pink where the acid had burned it, but she’d been in such merciless pain that a little pinkness was a small price to pay. She’d known she was dying until Tain’s healing magic had wrapped itself around her and pulled her back to life.

  Now Tain gazed at her in silence, taking in her body from the tips of her toes, up her slightly parted legs, to her breasts, to her face.

  He put one knee on the bed and got himself down full-length onto it, not speaking, not smiling. Samantha traced the pentacle tattoo on his cheekbone, her fingers brushing each point of the pentacle then moving around the circle.

  Something dark flickered in his blue eyes. “That doesn’t hurt you?” he asked, his voice like broken gravel.

  “No. Should it?”

  Again the flicker. “It’s the mark of the Mother Goddess. Cerridwen put it on me when she first came to take me to Ravenscroft.”

  Samantha drew her palm over the tattoo, then showed him her hand. “See? No burning. No pain. Perfectly fine.”

  “Kehksut could never touch it.”

  “Good,” Samantha said, her heart warming. “Then he couldn’t steal all of you.”

  Tain took her hand and pressed it again to his tattoo. She felt his pulse in his fingers, the swift beating of his heart, as he let her touch what one of the most powerful beings of demonkind hadn’t been able to.

  Tain slid on top of her while he kissed her, heavenly warm, his skin still damp. He moved his strong hand between her knees—no sexy talk, no play, just need.

  Samantha felt plenty needy herself. She drew the sole of one foot up the back of his leg, welcoming his warm weight.

  “You make me want to go slow,” Tain said softly. He kissed her chin, his lips a point of fire. “I want to go slowly, to make you more desperate.” He trailed kisses along her throat, sliding his body down hers as he went, his lips and tongue finding the valley between her breasts.

  Samantha jumped when his kisses reached her navel, and he licked a stray droplet of water from it.

  “That would be cruel,” Samantha managed to say. “Making me desperate, I mean.”

  “I’m a cruel man.” Tain stroked her belly as he kissed down to the swirl of hair between her legs, his breath scalding. “Not nice at all.”

  The tension in his body, the stillness of his eyes as he worked back up to her breasts told her he was holding himself in, tempering his strength for her. Even in the shower, Samantha had sensed him trying to contain himself.

  Samantha wondered, with a shiver of delight, what it would be like if Tain didn’t hold back. She was strong, her demon side making her tougher than she looked, but Tain could do what he wanted with her. She wouldn’t be able to stop him, and he knew it.

  He drew his tongue firmly around the areola of her breast, then took the nipple between his teeth. He closed his eyes as he plied his mouth, his lashes dark against his sunburned skin. His teeth and tongue were gentle, scraping her only enough to make Samantha shiver for more.

  When Tain raised his head again, his eyes were so heartbreakingly blue she wanted to hold on to him and never let go. I could love this man. If he’d let me, I’d fall in love him.

  Tain’s hand went to the spread of Samantha’s thighs. Slowly he eased himself onto her, his body heavy, his gaze meeting and holding hers.

  “Please,” Samantha whispered. She rubbed her foot up his leg again, her body open and aching for him.

  Tain leaned down to kiss her lips, and his cock, hard and wanting, touched her thigh.

  “I can’t stop this,” he said, brushing her hair back from her face. “If I start, I won’t be able to stop.”

  “Good,” Samantha whispered. “I don’t want you to stop.”

  Tain closed his eyes, lines around them tightening as he slid inside her. Her slick need let him come all the way in without impediment. He was big, and Samantha’s body flushed hot as she took him.

  Tain pushed in a little farther, then he stilled, opening his intense blue eyes. “You all right, love?”

  The love would break her. He was large inside her, touching something basic and carnal Samantha never knew she possessed.

  “Yes,” she said, trying to control her voice. “Fine. Good.”

  Tain bowed his head, and moved. Samantha dragged in a breath as the whole of him came into her again, and she cried out. He kissed her, muffling the sound.

  Samantha held on to him, fingertips gripping his back, rocking with him as he built up the rhythm. It was wicked and wild, erotic and stunning. This big, astonishing man had rescued Samantha from demons, cleaned her off in the shower, healed her, and was now loving her, making her feel things she hadn’t known she could.

  Tain’s fists bunched in the bedding next to her, his arms tight and hard. He closed his eyes as though fighting his release and fighting himself.

  “Samantha,” he whispered.

  “Yes.”

  When Tain looked at her, Samantha gasped again. His eyes were glowing, blue and powerful, filled with his life essence. Samantha spread her hand over the pentacle on his cheek, wishing she could touch what burned white-hot inside him.

  And then she was touching it. Samantha was demon. Her kind had the capacity to draw the life essence—that integral something that made a person alive—out of others. She’d never done it. She didn’t know how, and she’d never wanted to explore that part of her demon self.

  Now Tain’s life essence exploded into her through her fingers. Samantha cried out with the weight of it, a sheer force that lifted her off the bed.

  A wave of climax swamped her at the same time, and she screamed. She saw Tain’s face, blue eyes wide in concern, and then an amorphous blackness rose up and blotted out her world.

  Chapter Twelve

  “Samantha.”

  Someone sounded very worried, shook her, even. Samantha turned groggily away and burrowed back into the warmth of the pillows.

  “Samantha, look at me.”

  A strong hand gripped her face and forced her head from the comforter. She groaned.

  “Wake up, love.”

  Samantha liked the voice—deep, musical, and full of sinful promise. She wished he would keep talking, keep calling her love.

  Warmth tingled where his fingers contacted her, magic that pulsed against her skin. Samantha recalled the incredible heat that had jolted through her when she’d touched Tain’s tattoo, and she woke with a gasp.

  Tain lay next to her on the bed, long, strong, and naked. He propped himself on his elbow, his hand softening on her face, his eyes watchful. Pickles perched on the pillow above his head, staring down at Samantha with as much intens
ity.

  “What happened?” Samantha tried to sit up, only to collapse again and blow out her breath. “Whatever kind of orgasm that was, I’d like to do it again. Or maybe never, I’m not sure.”

  “You took my life essence.”

  Samantha pushed her hair from her eyes. “Is that what that was? I thought you were trying to kill me with ecstasy.”

  Tain gave her an odd look, his eyes watchful. “How does it usually feel when you feed on life essence?”

  “I don’t know. I mean, I’ve never fed on one before. If I did just now, it was an accident.” Samantha gave a little laugh. “Believe me, if I wanted a diet of life essences, I certainly wouldn’t start with yours.”

  Tain didn’t smile. “The demon part of you needs to feed. You can’t stop it.”

  Samantha shook her head. “Really, I had no idea what I was doing. I vowed I’d never subject anyone to that. I’ve seen humans who let themselves get addicted to demons, and it’s not pretty.”

  “All demons need life essence to survive,” Tain said, still watching her as though gauging her reaction to his words. “Old Ones, lesser demons, demons of mixed blood . . . Your touch is practiced.”

  Samantha again attempted to sit up, but her body was limp and warm, and so comfortable. “Listen, I know you want me to be an evil, life-sucking, death-magic demon, but that’s not how I was raised. My mother treated me like a human child, and that’s what I became.”

  Tain’s voice was quiet. “You must have taken life essence before, many times. By instinct—maybe without realizing you were doing it.”

  “Nope, not once. If I had taken it from someone, they’d feel it and tell me. Who would let me do that without saying anything?”

  His gaze was unfathomable, his body still. “Your mother, perhaps.”

  “No.” Samantha managed to sit up this time. “I’d never do that to her.”

  Tain remained stretched out beside her, a tall, godlike being who’d just given her the greatest night of her life. He touched her arm, his fingers warm, comforting despite his troubling words. “When you were a child, you wouldn’t have known or understood. You probably didn’t need to take much, being only half demon. The fact that your mother let you do it speaks much of her.”

 

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