Inside his diminutive host, he recoiled, but she could imagine the real Q doing so too. “I have no wish to conquer anyone. I would love to make it a habitable place for all of us.”
“You speak as if it’s possible. Forget the hurdle that is every full-blood ever. Have you met some of the halflings?” She wrote her last A and pushed the board back to him. “Done.”
Her writing was neat, if a bit wobbly. Good thing there wasn’t a mirror around. She was probably beaming.
Quution gave one nod, then the bastard erased all her work. He outlined a B and slid it back to her.
Fucker. She stretched her hand, but the stiffness was in her imagination. Marcus was as used to wielding a pen as he was a barbell.
“Why all the writing?” Was she whining? She hated whiners. “I asked to learn to read.”
“It helps cement the language into your brain.” He tapped the board.
“Do that one more time and I’m going to smash your finger into the table.”
He was unruffled. Downright prissy in that host of his.
Did he like the pale look? Is that why he’d chosen Brooklyn? Was her small body more desirable? As if she could handle a male Quution’s size. Her hand couldn’t even wrap around one of his horns and give it a good stroke.
Marcus’s body suddenly grew hot and restrictive. She shifted in her chair, one second away from darting out the door. But this was her host’s home. And she had a string of Bs to write.
“Can’t I learn other letters while I’m doing this? This one-at-a-time bullshit seems horribly inefficient.” She met his gaze and purred. “I know how you like efficiency.”
Quution’s lips parted. Xan almost grinned. She’d gotten to him. Under all those brains, he was a male.
She could use that.
He blinked and even through his host, Xan could see he was back to the impassive male he presented to everyone else. He started reciting the ABCs, differentiating between vowels and consonants while she traced letters.
By the end of the day, she could sing that ridiculous alphabet song and write every letter on command.
“We’ll have to meet in the underworld to do this tomorrow,” he said as he packed up. “We can meet—”
“At your place.” Spaeth’s spies needed something to spy on and it’d behoove her if they reported that she was spending time with Quution. “No one bothers you there.”
“Only you.”
“Aw, Quution.” She patted the soft cheek of his host. “You say the sweetest things.”
“How do you get in?”
“A girl never tells her secrets.”
“She isn’t the only one,” he muttered.
We’ll see about that.
Chapter 7
He looked peaceful when he slept. Xan relaxed next to the big male on his stone slab. The whole mattress thing was nice. She’d been through all his possessions before and he stored quite the treasure trove. None of it told her anything about what he was up to that had Spaeth so worried.
The bedding was unique. Clothing. Human weapons. Those may be useful, but she’d made sure she could defend herself with nothing but her fists and her mind.
She scanned his form as he slumbered next to her. Why the clothing?
Everyone, repeat, everyone was nude in the underworld, except the new demon, Melody. But even that female wove vines over herself, not clothing. Over the centuries, many items from the human world had found their way down here. Usually it happened when a host died and a portal opened to suck the demon back home. Collateral damage. But every item that had fallen down here was precious and hoarded—not worn for all to see.
Quution had a purpose for everything, and his penchant for clothing was about more than advertising his energy abilities. So why the clothing? Xan lifted her gaze to peer down his shirt. It was skintight, and the vexing male wore that atrocious trench coat to bed, too. She rolled back slightly to see if there was a gap at his waistband.
Cinched tight.
What was he hiding? She studied his skin. His face was smooth, the tone swarthy, like he’d spent a lot of time in the sun. Her fingers twitched to feather over his face, across his cheeks to outline his chiseled bone structure. The cleft in his chin was mesmerizing—and amazingly visible between his shanks for fangs.
She scowled at the fangs, wishing she could see his lips without the hindrance of his ivory. They were odd looking. She couldn’t imagine them holding up while ripping into flesh, but Quution wasn’t a flesh-ripping demon. He liked subterfuge, maximizing efficiency, and saving the dirty work for others.
Her gaze traveled down his neck. Smooth. She frowned and tilted her head. His shoulders were even as he rested. When he stood and walked, one hitched much higher than the other and threw his entire gait off. The fighter in her noticed those traits in others. Lying flat, he was even. Proportional. A lot like Stryke.
Something was off about Quution.
His eyelids floated open. She was pinned under his lilac stare. His nostrils flared like he was smelling her, but he didn’t start like he had the day before. Hopefully, their time together would make him more comfortable around her. So he would tell her all his secrets and she would free her sister.
“How the hell do you keep getting in here?” His sleep-roughened voice zinged straight to her belly. A familiar warmth curled through her. It wasn’t purely sexual, and that was disturbing. His epic patience yesterday had been endearing. It was an unusual trait in demons and one she used to scorn, but in him, she liked it.
As for his question—getting in was easier than ever. Almost as if his energy were parting just for her. Soon, she’d be able to wander right in like she lived here.
“Tricks of the trade.”
His lips flattened as much as they could and he rolled up to a seat. “Have you eaten yet?”
“Munched a few candy beetles on my way here.” It was almost all she ate.
“I have some trail mix.” He reached under his stone slab into a compartment she hadn’t seen before and retrieved a bag of nuts and raisins.
She sat up. His broad back was to her and again his shoulders were aligned. “You can smuggle anything down here and you pick that atrocious mix?”
He glanced over his shoulder, the move making his horns shimmer like they had their own light. The color blazed like the torches lining the wall. “What would you have me bring?”
She rolled to her knees to get a closer look at each horn. They curved elegantly and the orange shimmer… “Do your horns glow?”
“They can if I want them to.”
“You can control it?” She lifted a hand to touch them.
“It’s all energy.”
She snatched her hand back. What was she thinking? Stroking Quution.
Xan changed the subject. “I’d bring some of the good stuff down, like cheesecake. You want nuts? At least get ones covered in chocolate.”
“I don’t care for sweets.”
Further proof she needed to keep her hands to herself. She could succeed without seducing him. “Monster.”
He chuckled, an honest, very male sound that made her belly flip. “I don’t care for them as my main form of sustenance.”
“You should. Life’s too short to eat bland food. Or scavenger beetles.”
His heavy shoulders shuddered. “If I never eat one again, I’ll be happy.” He held out the bag of trail mix. She plucked out a raisin. It would have to do.
Swallowing she asked, “Where do we start?”
Quution nodded as Xan nailed another word. He’d have to make a run to the human realm to gather more books. Xan was a fast learner, as he suspected she would be. At this rate, she’d be reading everything in his library by next week.
Grammar was likely to make her cranky. She didn’t seem one for rules. Rules were made to be bent to Xan’s will.
Sometimes when she was around, like this morning when he’d first woken up, he almost thought she was attracted to him. Her gaze kept strayin
g to his horns and his body reacted by sending blood to his groin instead of his brain.
Sweet brimstone, the morning had been painful. As long as they were deep in concentration, he could pretend she wasn’t nude and keep his roaming gaze upward. Xan didn’t seem to have such trouble while working. Her eyes were on the book.
What did it matter if she was interested? It wasn’t like he could strip down in front of her and explain why he appeared to be a half-breed.
When he chose to finally sleep with someone, he’d need their full trust. Xan wasn’t here learning to read because she was trustworthy.
“The…dog…sat…” Her brow crinkled as she puzzled over the last word. “D-down.”
“Good.”
The wiggle in her seat she gave whenever he praised her would be his undoing. He’d compliment her for the rest of his life to see that shimmy.
“That’s all we have for today,” he said. “I’ll grab more books before our lesson tomorrow.”
“Why can’t we use the books you have in your library?”
Because he needed a break to rebuild his restraint. He’d been fighting off an erection for hours. It taxed his mental acuity and she was a distraction. “I have work to do.”
She leaned toward him. “Secret Circle work?”
He sucked in a breath. She might have broken in to his place and blackmailed him into these lessons, but he would not sport a hard-on around her like a bull in heat. “If it were Circle work, you’d know about it, since you’re on the Circle.”
“Come on, Quution. Do you think I’m that clueless? Each member has secret Circle work.”
He pounced on the opening. “What’s yours then?”
Her eyes widened briefly, but she recovered. “Learning. I don’t worry about a physical altercation, but there are several ways to build my defenses.”
“Likewise.”
She swirled on the boulder to face him. Had she purposely sat with her legs open? Lavender-laced brimstone surrounded him and it sapped even more of his strength not to leer at her body.
She walked her fingers over his chest.
He made a strangled sound and lurched sideways to leave, but her leg blocked him in. Dammit. He’d have to push her out of the way or hop over her. Either choice and she’d know how much she affected him.
“Can I practice reading while you’re studying in the library?”
There was no reason she couldn’t. Except that he couldn’t think with her in the same room.
“You’d break my concentration by continuously asking for help.”
Her eyes narrowed and there was that damn guilt again. Yes, he’d said it to upset her, hoping she’d storm off again and give him breathing room. She did not like him alluding to her ignorance, and he’d abused that fact a few times already.
He hated himself for it.
Determination filled her features. “I promise not ask questions.”
He sighed. She was going to continue until he said yes, or he feared she’d find another reason to make him say yes.
“Fine.” The smile he was graced with put a lump in his throat. She was quite the alluring female. Too bad he was only a job to her.
She stood and motioned for him to lead the way to the library. Finally, a little space was between them.
As long as she was inviting herself along, he might as well make her recite her ABCs and spell out simple words on the way. She cut off at M to grab a candy beetle and munch on it.
“This one’s ripe. Have a taste.” She held out the bug. Half the body was missing and two of its legs stuck in the air. His stomach turned.
“No, thank you.”
“So proper,” she muttered, then stopped. “No way. You don’t eat any food from our realm?”
He clenched his jaw and kept walking. “No.”
“You smuggle all your food down? Or do you hop into Brittany and grab a smackeral?”
“Brooklyn.” As long as Xan thought he used Brooklyn as his only host, that was fine with him. He had no wish to be captured and tortured in order to stuff other demons inside humans once it became common knowledge he didn’t need his host to recite an incantation. “And yes, after years of scraping for even the stankest of bugs, I have no wish to ever sink a fang into one again.”
“And you don’t eat other demons. Mm.” She popped the chunk of candy beetle into her mouth. “Seriously,” she said around her food, “not even these little delights? I can rustle them up easy enough. I just make them think there’s a predator behind them.”
He felt for the beetle. He would rush toward Xan, too. “Do you eat other demons?” He thought he knew the answer, but really, he didn’t know Xan that well at all.
“Not these days. Life was good for a while.”
What did she mean by that?
“Anyway, there’s nothing wrong with dessert for all three meals. Sometimes it’s the only good part of the day.” She shook herself like she realized she was sharing too much. “That’s the underworld for you.”
“Yes.”
Life was good for a while. Was it not good for her anymore?
Xan’s brain throbbed. Maybe there was something to those kid books after all. She’d gotten through four pages in the last two hours. Some words she’d sounded out, but others were tongue twisters.
And no way was she interrupting Quution after what he’d said. Did he have his own ability to sense her weakness? Appearing inept around him certainly seemed to be it.
He was sitting at the desk behind her. He’d said he hadn’t retrieved the desks or chairs from the human realm, but that they’d been items sucked in through a portal several years back. Her desk faced one wall and his faced the opposite. A better atmosphere to study.
Sure. He could keep telling himself that.
She turned around and peeked over his shoulder. Those broad shoulders were hunched over a scroll. The way he’d unrolled it with the gentlest of hands made her envious of the damn parchment. For a big demon with grotesque, twisted claws, he had a deft and considerate touch.
What was he like during sex? Demons fucked fast and hard, and often brutally. The males she’d been with had had only one goal in mind: to get off. Though she’d chosen partners who actually waited for her permission. All others had faced their demise before they could plunder any part of her.
But Quution. Deliberate, hulking, contemplative Quution.
She spun on her seat to stare at him. Her work for the day was done or her eyes would cross and she’d have to kill a demon for supper just to release her frustration.
She hadn’t gleaned any new information from the male. He was closed down and blocked to her. She was exploiting one of his secrets—there was a biggie in there—but figuring it out was like slamming her body against a stone wall. Nothing. There was more to his capitulation than fear of his half-brother being exposed, something bigger than the dirt she’d sifted through on him.
It was time to ramp up her efforts.
He either hadn’t noticed her looking at him, or he didn’t care. She rose and sauntered around his desk.
He popped his head up, his shoulders tense.
Oh, he knew what she was up to. The question was, would he stop her?
“Quution.” She dropped her voice to a seductive octave. “Doesn’t sitting like this put a kink in your back?”
She clamped her hands down on his shoulders and squeezed. Damn, it was like trying to massage a brick.
Putting her mouth to his ear, she whispered, “Relax.”
He didn’t relax one millimeter. “What are you doing?”
“Releasing tension.” She pinched his shoulders. Was that all muscle? Alternating squeezes, she moved her hands along his shoulders. Rock hard. Defined. This demon was sporting a hell of a physique.
He spun out of her grasp, his chair squeaking. Oh no, he wasn’t getting away.
She twirled around him and plopped onto his lap. A little off-kilter, thanks to one of his legs being propped higher than th
e other. She scooted closer to him and gave in to her urge to stroke his horns.
His lips parted and he inhaled so slowly it had to border on painful.
“So soft,” she breathed. Silk-covered steel ran under her fingers. She rimmed each horn from the sharp tip to the thick base buried in his rich hair.
His hair. Satiny strands wound through her fingers as she twisted and twirled her hand. She’d never been with someone who was such a mixture of hard and soft, each texture pleasing.
She trailed her fingers down his cheek. His eyelids slid closed as if her touch was the most exquisite sensation he’d ever felt.
Those fangs were growing on her. She touched the corner of his lips and skimmed her finger over a fang.
His eyes flew open, full of alarm. Strong hands clamped like shackles around her wrist.
Under her ass was another hard body part prodding her sex. She ground down, and he groaned, his eyes losing focus.
She rocked her hips again. Ooh, that was delicious.
His hands slipped off her wrists. She wrapped her arms around him and rode his erection.
A steel grip tightened on her waist. She ground down harder. But, oh, she needed more and he wasn’t moving. His gaze was stuck on her breasts and it was the first time she could recall that he’d looked at them.
Arching her back, she stuck her chest out. She needed more.
Demon Q: New Vampire Disorder, Book 8 Page 6
