Demon's Mark: The Complete Series

by Nora Ash

  Staggering, the wet emptiness clenching in protest, she reached out for support and was met by hard arms wrapped in thick coils of muscle as the man steadied her.

  He radiated heat along with the enticing scent of musk, she noticed when her fingers locked around his forearms.

  A demon.

  The thought was wrapped in hazy lust and desperation, but she knew she should be afraid even if her first instinct was to press closer to his massive body in search of relief. The throbbing that shook her frame would have had her doubling over if it wasn't for the strong arm supporting her by the grip he had around her back.

  “Did they damage you?”

  The hoarse note to his voice rang through her, and Selma moaned involuntarily and leaned in, pressing herself against the hard planes of his chest and stomach. He was so warm, even through the leather jacket. Warm and powerful, and the firm pressure against her stomach made it painfully obvious that he was more than capable of sating her needs.

  “Please,” she whispered. “Please, I am so empty!”

  And that emptiness was wrenching her apart from the inside, the hollow in her abdomen seemingly growing bigger at each beat of her racing heart, threatening to consume her whole.

  A large hand, easily the size of her face, touched her cheek as he wiped at the blood that had splattered over her. Gently, he tipped her head up—and up—until she finally saw his face.

  It was the same man she'd caught staring at her in the bar. The one whose power couldn't be hidden fully behind the constricted frame of a human, even though he in his disguise nearly reached seven feet with shoulders so wide he would have to twist his body when walking through normal doors.

  His angular features were marred by bloody scratches, but underneath them feral desire warred with something resembling physical pain—as if he was fighting instincts nearly as overpowering as her own.

  “I can't.” He gritted it out between clenched teeth. The hand against her cheek gripped her face tighter. “I would break you apart. Try to calm yourself—I need to have this mess cleaned up before we can take care of you.”

  Selma stared into his pitch black eyes, trying to comprehend his words through the rushing blood in her ears that was attempting to drown out the last of her independent thoughts. The mention of 'mess' made the memory of her tormentors return and she stiffened, momentarily pulled out of the trance-like state his nearness induced.

  Her gaze flickered to the floor, where a stream of red led it to the motionless body of the female who had fingered her mark.

  The demon’s hand was missing. Selma didn't look around for confirmation of the other two's fate.

  She let out a shrill scream as the memory of Marie's body, and the torn-out heart of the police officer who'd tried to save her, flashed through her inner eye. She had tried to suppress it ever since she fled, tried to forget how little human life meant to the demon who'd nearly claimed her as his own, and the constant fear of detection during the past month had allowed her to focus on her own survival rather than the haunting events at Ravenswood House. Until now.

  Her scream was not for the death of the monsters who had tormented her, but the sight of the mangled body broke through her self-preservation and maddening lust, crushing the flimsy barrier her mind had hidden behind until all she could see was the blood.

  “Shh, little one.” The demon's voice pitched in startled concern. Strong arms pulled her closer to the heated body in front of her, and her face was enveloped in a surprisingly soft caress as his palms curved around her cheeks.

  “Don't be scared. Shh, it's all right. Come, look at me.” The black eyes caught her gaze as he tipped her head to focus her attention on himself rather than the destruction in the warehouse. “You're safe. I promise.”

  Slowly, his soothing words and warm touch calmed her shaking form so that she could gasp in a few deep breaths of air, quelling her anguished cry as she did. Without thought to who and what he was, and simply needing the comfort his large hands and deep eyes promised, she leaned in and rested her forehead against his broad chest, willing her body and mind to release its pent-up tension to his heat.

  “Good girl,” he muttered above her, those strong hands caressing down her back and over her tangled hair again and again in an obvious effort at keeping her calm. “Just breathe. I'll take care of the rest.”

  Selma closed her eyes and breathed in the scent of him. Somewhere past the pained emptiness between her legs, and the despair in her heart, she knew she was surrendering to one of them, and that he was as dangerous as Dr. Hershey had been, despite the feeling of safety she had in the protective circle of his strong arms. In fact, the way her mind was lulled by his presence gave painful reminders of how Marathín had manipulated her. Yet as she felt the trembles slowly subside, and the memories of the murders of the two innocent people dim until they were once more a tolerable ache at the back of her mind, she breathed in the stranger's comforting scent and chose to ignore it. She needed the few moments of peace and relief he could give her as much as she needed the air in her lungs.

  His thumb stroked up over her cheekbone and she felt him bend his body around her, encapsulating her in his hard muscle to shield her from the harsh surroundings. His mouth and nose nuzzled at the top of her head, causing her pussy to throb longingly before he grasped for something in his pocket with the arm he hadn't wrapped securely around her back.

  The sound of buttons being pressed made her realize he'd pulled out a phone before his gruff voice resonated above her head.

  “Thomren, I need you to get Pete and his crew to come to the Spearhead Quarter, down by the warehouses. I need a cleanup. They'll be able to find it by the scent. But before they get here I need you to sort out a car for pickup. I'll meet you by 127th and Pearson. Got it?”

  The person on the other end must have answered in the affirmative, because the demon hung up without another word, quickly stuffing the phone back into his pocket before letting his hand find her face again. Despite the size of it, his caresses were as gentle as if she were made from glass, coaxing her to relax further against him.

  “What is your name, little one?” he asked when she began pressing her head into his touch for more.

  “Selma.” The thought that she ought to lie, in case Dr. Hershey had put out some form of missing person report on her, didn't occur before her name had slipped easily between her lips.

  “Selma,” he repeated, as if testing the feel of it on his tongue. “I am Kain, Lord Protector of this city. It is my duty to take care of you as long as you remain in my territory, and I wish to bring you to my home to ensure your safety and comfort. Is this agreeable to you?”

  Through the haze his nearness drew out, she realized with a start that he'd asked her to come. Not demanded. Her head popped up from his chest so she could take in his tense face. The firm pressure against her stomach proved that he still had the same desires to sate her aching hollow as when he first came for her, but he seemed like he was doing everything in his power to hold back.

  Not that her body wanted him to hold back, but … the fact that he seemed to be trying suggested that maybe, just maybe, this demon was not as deceitful as Marathín. Unless, of course, it was just a part of his ploy to make her trust him.

  “If I say no, will you let me leave?” She scanned his expression warily, and flinched when a growl escaped through his clenched teeth.

  Kain swallowed thickly, pressing down the threatening sound. “I … will try. I recommend that you allow me to escort you to my home, though. Every demon you pass will be able to scent you clearly in this state, and you are not at your full mental capacity.”

  Selma nodded, letting her fingers dig into the soft leather of his black coat. His smell and touch soothed her in the aftermath of her trauma. Despite the lust trying to break through the moment’s calm, her rational side knew that she wouldn't make even an hour on her own in the state she was in. She needed him, needed his care and his body … she groaned pi
tifully through a pleasurable shudder, and tried to press her pelvis against his wide thigh.

  “Okay.”

  He hissed in obvious relief and, before she realized what was happening, lifted her up and swung her over one broad shoulder as if she weighed nothing. Quickly, he walked to the door and slipped out into the darkened evening before she had time to see any more of the destruction inside.

  Despite the uncomfortable and somewhat undignified position Selma didn't utter any complaints as she hung over his back like a sack of grain, swaying with his swift gait. Kain's strong hand held her securely and his powerful body moved underneath her, taking her away from that awful place where she had been tortured and molested. It didn't matter that she didn't know him—her body knew his strength and understood that he was carrying her to safety.

  At least for a little while.

  * * *

  Thomren's nostrils flared wide the second he stepped out of the car, even before he'd spotted them in the shadows.

  Kain let out a low, warning growl as he stepped into the light from the lonely street lamp on the deserted street corner. He would have trusted few of his underlings in the presence of a wet and willing Breeder, even when she was under his protection, but Thomren was the only one who had a mate at home, and would therefore be less tempted by the beguiling scent drifting from the sweet little pussy so tauntingly close to Kain’s mouth that he could practically taste it.

  “Blackened stars, man!” Thomren took in the sight of the woman's whimpering form hoisted over Kain’s shoulder before staring wide-eyed at his Lord. “How have you not …?”

  Fucked her to death, was the obvious end to that sentence, but the man wisely held his tongue. The smell of Breeder in heat was not the only scent littering the air; Kain could feel the testosterone boiling in his blood, and the tight leash he'd been keeping on his raging libido was threatening to ignite his fighting instincts instead. It took all his willpower to not explode out of his human disguise, shred the other male to pieces and fuck the Breeder on the dirty ground until she broke underneath him.

  Truly, the wisest choice would be to hand her over to Thomren, tell him to arrange for a trusted underling to take care of her so he could go let his hormonal insanity out by punching on the nearest gang of thugs he could find. The problem was that, along with the most painful erection he'd ever experienced, the smell of the little Breeder—of Selma—also brought a violent urge to protect and claim, and after seeing her abused in that damned warehouse … he would rather kill every last one of his subordinates than send her off with another.

  Silently and with a last glare to Thomren, he slid into the backseat of the car where he arranged the girl across his lap so that she could be comfortable. Or as comfortable as her current state allowed her to be.

  She whimpered softly at the movement when Thomren started the car and pulled out, pressed her face against the hollow of his neck, and breathed deeply in an obvious attempt to soothe herself. Yet all it did was cause warm, wet slick to moisten her jeans so thoroughly that he felt it trickle onto his own thighs.

  She moaned in frustration and rubbed herself against him, and he felt her wet tongue start licking at the column of his throat while her slim fingers tugged uselessly at his coat.

  He was going to die. Probably from spontaneous combustion.

  “Selma,” he rasped, nuzzling into her messy hair once more when his self-control wavered. “You need to stop that. Now.”

  “You taste so good,” she mumbled in response, her moist, hot breath raising goose bumps on the skin of his throat as it brushed over him like a silky caress. “Need you.”

  Kain's breath hitched in his throat when she resumed the teasing attentions to his skin, biting not entirely gently at his pulse point before the sweet, wet licks continued upwards. Blood was rushing in his ears, his head felt light and his groin heavy and pained.

  If only. All he needed was ….

  Her small mewl pulled him back, and he found his fingers had inadvertently dug into the swell of her hips. And that she was mewling happily because he was grinding his straining cock against that blessedly wet spot at the front of her jeans.

  Damned little thing!

  Growling with the effort he pushed her away and onto the seat beside him. She wailed at the separation and clawed at his clothes to get closer, and he lacked the strength to resist.

  “Thomren, when the fuck are we there?” It was meant as a snarl but came out more like a desperate plea. His underling had the good manners not to laugh, even as his eyes flickered to the rear view mirror in time to see Selma climb on top of him and start biting at his shoulders through the jacket.

  “Two more minutes, my Lord.”

  It was the longest two minutes in the entire history of the universe.

  When the car finally pulled up in front of the tower block that hosted his casino, hotel and private apartment, Kain was shaking from head to toe with the effort to rein in his urges. His hands were clenched hard around two chunks of the now demolished back seat.

  “We're here, sir.” Thomren said, slipping into. a more formal form of addressing him. The shift was undoubtedly linked with the man's personal experience of what it was like for an unmated demon to be around a Breeder in heat—and his understanding of what would happen if he accidentally pushed his Lord's temper right now.

  “Do you need… anything? For her?”

  Kain knew what Thomren was asking, and thanks to the small reserve of reason he had left he could appreciate the man's diplomacy and attempt at ensuring the girl's survival. Whether it was to preserve one of the rare mates, or if it was to attempt to save his Master from the guilt of killing an innocent girl, Kain wasn't sure, but in either case, he was thankful.

  “I won't harm her,” he gritted out, taking a few quick breaths when the girl sucked wetly at his Adam's apple and pressed against his thigh to alleviate a little of her desperate need. “I swear it. Do not tell anybody about her. I will call you in the morning.”

  “If you picked her up where you sent the crew to clean up, they'll be able to smell her all over it.”

  Damned. He was clearly not thinking straight.

  “Fine. Muzzle them. If one word gets out about her, tell them I'll have their heads, you hear? I'll decide… tomorrow... oh fuck!” He arched against the ruined back seat when Selma's aimlessly roaming hands finally found the bulge in his pants that was nearly tearing out the zipper in its attempt at getting free.

  “I will take care of it. You get inside and take care of her … they get real vicious if you let them get too wound up.” There was laughter, and sympathy, in his underling's voice.

  Kain growled, more at the Breeder currently attempting to free his cock than at the other demon, and finally let go of the chunks of car seat so he could wrap his arms around her and push out of the car. His focus was solely on the private back entrance to his domain lined by two armed guards—men Thomren would also need to keep quiet. He obviously hadn't thought this through—something that was highly unlike him.

  The two men went rigid when Selma’s intoxicating scent hit their nostrils.

  Kain offered a deep snarl at them, clutching the girl tighter. She clung to him like a baby koala, causing him to feel every one of her curves as he carried her, but he was too far gone for it to make much of a difference.

  “She is mine!” he hissed in warning when one of the guards, Brethor, took a step towards them. “One more fucking step and I swear it'll be your last!”

  The underling blinked, one foot frozen mid-step, and shook his head from side to side as if to get rid of the lustful haze spurred by the Breeder's proximity.

  “Hold your breath,” his—older and wiser—comrade choked out next to him.

  Kain watched with narrowed eyes as Brethor did as instructed and, clearly struggling with his raging instincts, stepped back into position before staring off into the distance with a tormented expression.

  Kain rushed past them and into the b
uilding, pushing back the urge to fight the male who had thought he'd get to mount a female belonging to his Lord Protector. Nothing but wasted time and, he recognized on some distant level, regret would come from slaughtering the man, and all he needed right now was to get the girl up to his chambers. Anything else would only make the unbearable ache in his groin worse as it postponed their relief.

  He went straight for the private elevator, easily holding Selma up with one arm as he punched the top floor's button with more force than was healthy for it, before wrapping his other arm securely around her and leaning his head on top of hers so he could breathe in her scent. The gentle touch of it calmed his fighting instincts, and he nuzzled his nose deeper into her messy hair with a relieved sigh.

  “I will take good care of you. I promise,” Kain mumbled in response to the wordless noises the Breeder was muttering into his shoulder and chest. He was fairly sure that her discontent was centered on the lack of sexual stimulation he was providing.

  He caught sight of them in the elevator's mirror, and grunted in annoyance. They were both splattered with blood, and she was dirty, tear-stricken, and not at all in the sort of condition a prized female should be kept in. It tore at his primitive needs to protect, and had their lust not been so urgent he'd have bathed, fed and soothed the traumatized little thing before mounting and claiming her.

  Kain paused in his musings, biting off an angry growl at his instincts' easy slip into the role of a male claiming his mate. He was not mounting, nor claiming, the frail-looking girl, and unless he got himself moderately in check, he'd kill her with his brutal size and force.

  Feeling even more frustrated with the situation than before, a feat that was highly impressive at this point, he didn't wait for the elevator doors to slowly open when the small bell announced their arrival at the top floor. Shifting Selma to one hip, he kicked the doors open and stomped through the debris towards the only apartment on this floor of the highrise hosting his casino and hotel. It took him seconds to unlock the front door and type in the code, and then he was finally within the safety of his own four walls.