by Michele Hauf
“Yes, in the eleventh.”
“And what’s the witch helping you with? If you don’t mind my asking? Or...is she your girl? Tagging along for the fun?”
“She’s the operator to my compass,” Ethan offered. “She wears his sigil from a curse the demon put inside her centuries ago. They are connected. She gave me some magic that will lead us to him. We’ve twice already encountered the demon, but... I wasn’t prepared for the containment.”
“No containment crew?”
“Yes, but...eh, it doesn’t matter. I’m preparing for the third time. He won’t slip away again.”
“Most definitely. I always tell hunters demons are wily. They’ll take advantage of everything you hadn’t thought they could. So you two are connected?” He looked to Tuesday.
She nodded. “In a working relationship. And while I’m not looking forward to seeing Gazariel again anytime soon, I want to help Ethan get this weapon out of his hands.”
“Noble, especially for a dark witch.”
“We’re not all bitches,” Tuesday said.
“No, but the majority of you can’t be trusted.” He spread out a hand in placation. “Just my call. Take all the offense you like.”
“I take no offense. I know what I am, and I don’t make excuses for it. So you’re on our team now. Great. What information do you need from us to get ready for your gig?”
“As much as you can give me. Though knowing he’s Fallen is enough. But...you said you and the demon are connected?” Savin approached Tuesday and nodded, indicating she should stand. “Do you wear the demon’s sigil?”
“I do.”
“Can I take a look at it?”
With a hefty sigh, Tuesday rose and lifted her T-shirt. “Everybody wants to touch the witch. Just make sure your hands aren’t cold.”
Savin bent to study the dark sigil drawn between Tuesday’s breasts. And with a brisk rub of his palms together, and a questioning gesture, he was given permission to touch. He put his finger on the sigil and traced the lines, then suddenly snapped back and stepped away, shaking the hand that had touched her.
“Yep, you two are connected. That’s a nasty one. No wonder you’re dark. That curse originated from the Big Guy.”
“You know that?” Ethan asked.
Savin shrugged. “Some shit I just know. Like it or not. I wouldn’t call her master The Beautiful One, but rather the Dark Prince.”
“No.” Tuesday pulled down her shirt. “I’ve never been attached to Himself. Never felt that pull or such control.”
“Whatever. It’s what I feel. But, uh...” Savin glanced to Ethan. “You do know if I send the demon to Daemonia, she’s going with it?”
Ethan caught Tuesday’s gaping look and in his mind he heard her say, What the fuck?
“I didn’t know that,” Ethan offered. “We have to disconnect them before the reckoning?”
“Either that, or bye-bye, witch.” Savin shrugged. “Unless she can ward herself to the nines. Not sure it’s even possible with a sigil connected to the Dark One.”
“Great. Ever since Ethan kidnapped me this whole ride has been one big party of suck.”
“Kidnapped?”
Ethan shook his head at Savin’s inquiring glance. “A retriever brought her in from the States. She’s the only one with a connection to the demon.”
“Since when does Acquisitions force others to do their dirty work?” Savin asked.
Ethan raised an eyebrow. The man knew the answer to that one, and he wasn’t sure why he was being so openly obstinate.
“Yeah, I get it. Right.” Savin sighed heavily. “You give me a call when you’ve got the demon contained. But I won’t hold my breath waiting for the call. This will be a tough catch.”
“Thanks for that vote of confidence,” Ethan said. “Is there nothing you can offer in way of containing a Fallen One?”
Savin rubbed his jaw in thought. “The witch’s dark magic should prove effective, and if you add a familiar into the mix that will only increase the power. But if she’s bonded with the demon everything could blow up in your face. I’d suggest keeping her as far from the demon as possible. He could use her magic against you.”
“As we’ve already seen,” Tuesday said. “I won’t give up on trying to help Ethan. The familiar is a good idea, though. Know of any familiars willing to risk their life for a long shot?”
“Actually—” Savin’s generous grin poked dimples into his cheeks “—I do.”
* * *
“How much does your organization pay a guy like Thorne to reckon demons?” Tuesday asked as they strolled down the sidewalk in a direction Ethan had pointed out.
The city rose around them in three-and four-story buildings, random trees sprouting in tiny courtyards here and there, and the constant car horns squawking at one another. Lights everywhere illuminated the dark streets and touristy areas like a carnival.
Ethan scrolled through the contacts on his phone, searching for the familiar’s location. “I’m not sure. I requisition invoices to be paid directly to Savin. I’m not the money guy.”
“Is that so? Are you telling me your promise to pay me for helping you was a lie?”
“No. You’ll get what you deserve. But I won’t be on the negotiating part of that. I don’t like to be involved in the money.”
“Aren’t you going to put in a good word for me?” She turned and fluttered her lashes at him.
And Ethan was taken by that flirtatious move, even though he sensed it was more mocking than a flirt. “Are you worried about what Savin said about you going along with the demon to Daemonia?”
“Why should I be? I thought you said the reckoner would merely be used as a threat to get the demon to talk. Wait. Seriously? You’re going to deport the demon with me attached to him? You ass!” She turned and marched onward, furred coat flying out in a rage.
Women! They changed moods like they changed their shoes.
Instead of chasing after her, Ethan sent her a mind message. Tuesday, you’re overreacting. I will never allow that to happen to you. I care about you. He stopped, pausing to consider those thoughts. Did he really care about the witch?
Ahead of him, Tuesday stopped and turned around, arms swinging out at her sides. In his thoughts he heard her wonder, Really? Then her shoulders dropped and she shook her head, and spoke out loud. “Bad move, vampire. I’m not the kind of chick a guy should ever have a care for.”
And she turned and strode onward, intent on putting distance between them. Was it because of the curse she wore? Did she believe love could never be hers? What if she did believe in it? Might she then have it?
His contacts list brought up Thomas the familiar’s address, which was...in the opposite direction they were walking. Ethan tucked away the phone and ran up to catch Tuesday. She turned a corner down a narrow alley formed by the rough limestone bricks of a small church and a black wrought-iron fence that kept back the leafless branches from an overgrown shrub.
He grabbed her by the arm and spun her around, but didn’t do the inconsiderate thing of pushing her against the wall and admonishing her for her silly emotional reaction.
“You don’t get to tell me who I can care about,” he said.
“Yeah? I thought you didn’t like witches. If having sex a couple times is all it takes to turn your head I’d tell you to beware your female enemies, big-time.”
“Tuesday, I know this is a wall you’ve created over the years—hell, the centuries—to make life easier to walk through.”
“It’s not a wall, asshole, it’s a fucking curse.”
“Right. The curse. But there’s a wall, too. I know, because I do it, too. I love my walls. Keeps people at a distance, and makes it easy to ignore the fact that I do have feelings. So I’ve had a change of heart about a witch that I prejudged incorrectly. I like you
. Get over it.”
He leaned against the wrought-iron fence, crossing his arms over his chest. Yes, putting up that wall, like she had done. It was something he did by rote.
“What do you want from me, Ethan?”
“You know what I want from you.”
She sighed and tilted her head against the wall, turning so her cheek faced him. “And I agreed to help you get what you want because I like to do shit that challenges me. Surprises me. Lures me out of the norm. Chasing a demon who could be my death? Sign me up.”
“You think that if you find Gazariel you might get him to break the curse?”
She chuffed. “Only one way to make that happen, and I do like my heart exactly where it is.” She turned to look at him and he maintained a cool gaze, arms still crossed defiantly. “This thing we accidentally created between us can only harm us both. You know that.”
“Only if we have hope. And we’ve both lived long enough to know that hope is stupid and cheap.”
“So you’re saying you’re just going with the feeling? That when it ends you can walk away? Wham, bam, thank you, witch?”
“Isn’t that how you want it to go?”
She nodded. But he noticed the beginning of her wince before she smoothed away that regretful motion. She wanted more, he knew it. And he did, too. How could he get the demon to break that damn curse for her? She deserved love.
“Right.” She lifted her chin. “In it for the ride, arms spread and head thrown back as we scream at the top of our lungs. Then let the chips fall where they may. I like you, too, vampire. There. I said it. You’re right. I can do this. And when it’s done? I can walk away.”
She put out her hand to shake, as if they might seal the agreement to let their hearts stumble against one another, to fall into the experience of some kind of relationship, but knowing full well that it was only until they were both done using one another.
Ethan could get behind that. But not completely.
He gripped Tuesday’s hand but then lunged forward to kiss her. She hadn’t expected that, and she initially struggled. But he dropped her hand and cupped her head, keeping her mouth at his so he could deepen the kiss, dive in to her and taste her fears as they quickly wilted to allow in desire and want and the very same need he felt.
Her heartbeats entered his and at first they danced in a challenging standoff, but then quickly steadied and began to share the rhythm. She hiked up a leg against his thigh, drawing his hips to her body. Instant hard-on. Which he crushed against her in a moaning plead for what he suddenly needed right now.
“Yeah?” she said as she tilted her head to catch his mouth at a new angle. “We are away from the crowds.”
“Can you put up some kind of shield?”
“You mean my invisibility cloak?”
Ethan pulled from the kiss, meeting her eyes with wonder. “You have one?”
She laughed and then crushed a kiss to his mouth. “No, and who wants the confidence of a protection shield when the risk of being seen is much more fun?”
He unzipped and hissed when her cool fingers wrapped about his cock. The heavy fall of her coat shielded them from curious eyes, should anyone pause at the end of the alleyway and peer down at them. But she was right. The idea of being caught out only made his cock harder.
He slid down her leggings and hugged his erection against her mons. Directing him, she tapped the head of him against her clit. He could feel the tingling curls of sensation with each tap, taking everything she felt into his system and doubling it with his own. He would never regret the blood bond between them. Not even if he had to walk away from her when the demon had been captured and the code secured.
Maybe? He’d just been thinking the witch deserved love. What about him?
No time to think about it. Nuzzling his nose along her hair and down to her ear, he licked her lobe as she allowed him entrance into her hot, wet pussy. With a growl, he clapped a hand about her ass and rocked her onto him as he willed down his fangs and bit into her neck.
She swore and her fingernails clawed at his neck. That exquisite pain heightened the pleasure, and as her blood spilled down his throat, Ethan spilled into her. He’d never tasted finer, nor had he felt uniquely connected to another.
A giggle from down the way clued him they’d found an audience. Ethan growled and retracted his fangs, but pulled Tuesday in closer, wanting to wrap her about his body until he felt nothing more than her heartbeats envelop his soul.
Chapter 17
Swinging out of the alleyway, Tuesday walked alongside Ethan this time. The man had a way of winning her when she most wanted to push him away. And it wasn’t even the power of his cock and kiss. It was something innate. She was a part of him, and she had felt his truth and honesty as he’d kissed her roughly. The desperation in that kiss had made her understand her own desperation for acceptance. It was a long time coming.
But she wouldn’t go all moon-eyed for the man and pledge her undying love to him. That way lay broken hearts and regret. Her heart broken. Men tended to wander off and never look back. Because love could never really fix in a man’s heart for her. She and Ethan had agreed to go with whatever came their way, and she was good with that. Because life was meant to be lived in the moment, and no one reminded her of that more than Ethan Pierce.
“Is the familiar’s place that way?” she asked, as he led her down the street. They passed a crepe hawker and she stopped. “I haven’t eaten all day. You got some cash?”
With a smirk he tugged out his wallet and handed her a twenty-euro note.
“You want something? A coffee?”
“I just had a drink. And I’m not talking about the whiskey.” His eyes glittered. It was a feeling that hit Tuesday in her very bones. And she couldn’t prevent a return smile. “I’ll wait over there. I want to check out the musician across the street.” He thumbed a gesture over his shoulder, where Tuesday saw a guitarist performing, then wandered across the street.
The night was chilly but not too cold with her big coat to shield from the elements. The instant the hot creamy chocolate and bananas hit her belly, Tuesday groaned with pleasure. No one could tell her this much sugar was not good for her. This gastronomic nightmare spoke to her soul the way no kiss or sex could.
Standing at the curb, watching Ethan listen amongst the crowd as the guitarist performed a dazzling flamenco number, punctuated by frequent cries of “olé!” from the onlookers, Tuesday couldn’t decide when she’d last been on a date with a man that hadn’t seemed like a date. Of course, they were not on a date. They were tracking a crazy demon who was dating Ethan’s ex-wife. But it felt date-ish. And certainly they had formed some kind of a relationship.
And then she realized she was laying claim to the man in a way that disturbed her. It was her reaction to the ex-wife all over again. What had become of the dark witch who preferred to fuck them and leave them? Who rarely trusted a man, and had been fine with her single no-commitments life over the centuries. Why was the idea of actually enjoying time spent with a man suddenly so alluring? Almost as if it was fulfilling a need she’d never thought to have.
A need she’d willingly sacrificed when at her lowest and near death.
It must be the Paris air. It was making her think. Too much. The City of Light was the city for lovers. So, yeah. Leave it at that, Tuesday. Just lovers.
Catching a drip of chocolate that ran down the side of her hand with her tongue, she traced her skin slowly, thinking to send the sensation across the street and to Ethan. She watched as he lifted his hand, shook it, then swung a glance over his shoulder, making direct eye contact with her.
She gave him a thumbs-up and a smiling wink.
He blew her an air kiss, then nodded that she cross over and join him as he wandered down the sidewalk. Hell, something crazy was going on between her and the man, but she didn’t want to ov
eranalyze it. She would take each moment for what it was, as he’d suggested.
“You didn’t save me a taste?” he asked as she joined his side.
“I still have some on my fingers.” She held out her forefinger and he leaned down to lick it, stopping long enough to suck it into his mouth and draw up a sigh from her. “And here I thought the crepe was awesome.”
He winked at her and then clasped her other hand and led her onward. “The familiar lives near the Panthéon.”
“Is that the big place with all the dead people in it?”
“It is. Alexandre Dumas is even interred there now. He was moved a decade or so ago from another spot. Much against his wishes to be buried in his hometown.”
“You knew the guy?”
“Of course! Though I never could inspire him to try his hand at writing about vampires. Always the musketeers.”
“What’s wrong with a sexy musketeer? I knew a few in my time.”
“But dating a lawman? Wasn’t it difficult for you in the earlier centuries? Seems like the witch hunts have always been a constant.”
“I got smart after I got the sigil.”
“I bet you did.” He swung an arm across her shoulders and hugged her close as they strolled down a cobblestoned sidewalk, avoiding a crowd lingering outside the massive domed Panthéon building. “I never had much of a problem with witches until...”
“Until? Until what? Did one of them look at you the wrong way? Give you the evil eye?”
He grimaced, but they maintained their casual pace. “I had a lover in the early twentieth century.”
“Oh, yeah? Someone other than your wife? And the nameless woman with the tragic blood transfusion?”
“I’ve had many lovers. As I know you have. But this woman was different. She swept me off my feet, you could say. But we were only together six months.”
“Was she vampire?”
“Yes.”
“And?” They walked a few more paces, Tuesday sensing Ethan’s tension tightening the muscles in the arm across her shoulders. But he had brought up this thread of conversation. So... “Ethan?”
