by Michele Hauf
“I love those purrs of yours.” He clenched his jaw. Release loomed so close. “Aby, you’re killing me.”
“You want me to stop?”
“No, never, keep going.”
He felt it all, every stroke of her, every glide, every squeeze. That much he’d never lost, thank the gods. The heat of her weakened him. Her daring stirred him. Her moans and gasps matched his own.
“I’ve a birth control spell on me, so you needn’t worry.”
“It’s not going to matter much, Aby. No climax, remember?”
Words fled. Rational thought faded. Even as he regretted his own frustration, he was able to enjoy Aby’s pleasure. There was no denying, he felt awesome. And when she came, it was like a song he wanted to play over and over again.
Chapter 18
“Y ou said you were going to meet Rainier at midnight?”
Max nuzzled his cheek against Aby’s breasts. A weary exhaustion lengthened his muscles, but a giddy grin had permanently fixed on his mouth. “Mmm.”
“It’s quarter of.”
“Hell, I have to get out of here.” It took all his resolve to move away from her warmth and separate himself from heaven.
“Take me along?”
“Too dangerous. And pouting will get you nowhere.” He tensed as her hand found his semihard erection. “That will get you somewhere, but not right now, Aby. Besides, you need a catnap, yes?”
“Sounds blissful. But not as sweet as lying naked next to you.” She rolled to her back and stretched her arms across the sheets. Moonlight through the window gilded her bare skin. “I wish you could come with me, lover.”
“Where are you going?”
“I mean, when we’re making love. Maybe I should take a nap and let you dream walk again. I hate knowing you’re left unsatisfied.”
“Aby, holding you is the most satisfying thing I’ve done in a long time. And don’t worry, I’ll find Rainier soon enough. And when this shadow is gone from me, you won’t be able to get me out of your bed. Ever.”
“I like that. I can’t wait to hear you come for me, Max.”
“Mm, I will. Soon.”
He leaned in and kissed her. It seemed impossible to get his fill of her. But he was the master of dissatisfaction, so with but a twinge of regret, he gave her one last kiss. The clock was ticking.
“Stay inside until I return. Promise me.”
“Promise.” She purred, a soft satisfied trill.
Max slid off the bed and retrieved his clothes from the bathroom floor. He bounced on one foot as he slid his other into the pant leg.
“Max, tell me, what we are now.”
He knew what she wanted to hear. Did he believe this could go somewhere after Paris? Did he want it to? Of course he did. But the label she was looking for—boyfriend and girlfriend—didn’t work for him.
“We’re lovers, Aby. It’s all I can offer.”
“I’ll take it. I’ll miss you the moment you walk out that door.”
He kissed her neck. Aby’s trusting warmth bruised his soul. “If I find out you’ve skipped over to the Eiffel Tower alone…”
“You’ll punish me?” The cat’s mouth curved wickedly.
“Until you beg me to stop.” A kiss at the top of her breast nearly changed his direction, but he forced himself to step away. “If you can be patient and not leave, then I promise we’ll go to the Tower when I get back.”
“Really?” Giddy delight sparkled in her emerald eyes. That was the Aby he adored.
“Promise.”
Paris was a large, but compact city, easy to negotiate by paralleling the Seine. Max headed north toward the rue de Rivoli. It was ten minutes past midnight. Smoke billowed in the sky in about the area where the Regina was.
Cars honked at him as he dashed across the busy main street. The late-night crowd was thick. The city never slept. A red fire engine was parked before the hotel. Max wasn’t allowed to pass the police tape cordoning off an area at the front of the hotel. Guests loitered outside in elegant gowns, some in night-robes, all looking shaken. But he’d yet to sight an ambulance.
“What happened?” he asked the gentleman standing next to him. He wore the hotel livery with gold epaulets.
“Fire broke out on the second floor in two rooms, monsieur. It is contained. They’re moving the guests to the Bourgogne for the night.”
“Was it arson?”
“Who knows? Someone may have gotten lazy with a cigarette.”
Max watched the fire crew climb a ladder to an outer window and tracked the hotel layout in his mind. The room ablaze was his; he was sure of it.
Had Rainier hoped to catch Max and Aby asleep inside the room? It was a nasty play on Rainier’s part, and Max found it hard to believe his former partner wouldn’t have simply faced him in a battle of fists, instead of taking a coward’s choice.
Maybe he’d known the room was empty and he’d wanted to leave a warning? That was the likelier choice.
Stalking away from the scene, Max scanned the street. He saw the obvious—people watching the fire, cars being redirected—but focused beyond them. His eye was drawn to the dark shape that lurked behind the brown Renault down the street.
He took off in a sprint, and the dark shape fled.
“Thrill me.” Max slapped a hand against the brick wall and swung around the corner. He smelled sulfur, and followed it. In a short distance he caught up, which meant the dark figure was just a man, occupied by a demon. Inside a human, the demon was always constrained by the abilities of that mortal shell. And this guy was in no shape to run a marathon.
Overtaking him before the alley ended in a T, Max shoved the guy and he collided with the brick wall. He hissed and flashed a blue gaze at him.
Smashing his head against the wall, Max cautioned his strength. He didn’t want to kill the human. Veins bulged on his face and neck. Demons could never pull off the façade without some clue to their presence.
Whipping him around by the shoulder, Max barred his forearm across his chest. “Did you start that fire?”
“I do not know what you are saying!” the man protested in French. “No English!”
Max switched to French and repeated the question.
The demon wearing human flesh shook its head frantically. Blood trickled from his temple from Max’s rough treatment.
“Who started it?”
“The demon wizard,” the thing replied.
“Would that be Rainier Deloche?”
“I do not know his name. He brought me to this realm and set me free to find a body. I was summoned and binded to start the fire. That is all I know!”
“Where’s Deloche?”
The demon struggled. Max kneed him in the groin, which subdued him nicely.
“I do not know.”
“So you apported right here before the hotel? I don’t think so. Where were you summoned?”
“I do not—East! East is where I came from, but I do not know the place. I pay little attention. I was so glad to be free.”
It was all he was going to get from this idiot. Max grabbed his whip, but couldn’t kill the thing yet. Instead, he slipped a hand inside his coat and brought out a hematite rosary. He pressed the silver cross against the man’s forehead. It smoked. The demon yowled.
Max recited the exorcism in Latin.
Demon dust poured from the man’s body, slipping out beneath the pant legs and from the fingertips, mouth, nose and ears. The human body slumped at Max’s feet. He’d be catatonic for days, but it was a better fate than the demon’s.
Lashing out the whip, Max snagged the bewildered entity by the neck, slicing off its head.
Aby stirred and woke with a moan. She blinked at the brightness in the room. It was morning.
Had Max come home last night and left her to sleep alone?
His side of the bed was bare. A peek in the bathroom found it silent and dark.
He hadn’t returned.
As she gripped her throat, her h
eart pounded against her forearm. Had something gone wrong? What if he was…
She wouldn’t think it. Couldn’t. Max could take care of himself. Wherever he was, he must be following a lead on Rainier. He’d return soon.
Slipping a jersey sundress over her head, Aby strode out to the living room. She stared out the window for a long time, tracing the city’s landmarks from the Eiffel Tower to the Arc de Triomphe, to Notre Dame. There were many distinctive buildings, but she hadn’t a clue what they were.
The urge to sightsee was strong. But she knew better. That would come after Max had gotten what he desired.
“Will he give me what I desire?” she mused aloud as she wandered into the kitchen.
He had already given her what she wanted. Him. At least as much as he was able to give. What kind of man would do so much for a woman when he could not have his own satisfaction in return? A selfless man.
“I love him,” she said, feeling the word out and liking its shape on her tongue.
Love was one of those words that had so many meanings, and could be used in different ways. Appropriate for her feelings toward Max. Different from how she regarded Severo. Max devastated her heart when he was not around. And when he was he owned it.
Crossing her arms over her chest, she gave herself a hug, wishing it were Max hugging her. Max kissing her. Max tracing the line of her muscles and following with his tongue. Max capturing and, in turn, owning her.
Shaking her head, Aby realized daydreams would get her nowhere and would leave her in a frustrated, pining mood.
“I want him to be able to feel as I do when we make love. We must get his partner to agree to the summoning.”
Tugging open the fridge, she pouted to find Max had guessed correctly. Not a crumb of food. But there were three bottles of vodka.
Vampires and vodka? Couldn’t be a good mix.
Closing the door, she padded out to the living-room window and scanned the street below. She thought she’d seen a grocery store earlier. There. Not even half a block away. “He won’t know I left the apartment.”
Decided, Aby dug out the credit card from her purse and headed for the store.
After twenty minutes strolling the aisles and marveling over the fascinating foods and jars with bright labels in a language she could not understand, Aby selected some fresh fruit from the refrigerated aisle. But the small shop didn’t take MasterCard, nor American dollars.
The storekeeper said in English that a cash machine was up the way.
Heels clicking in a pleasing rhythm, Aby wandered the cobbled street checking the buildings. She and Max had passed an automatic teller on the way here; they were set into the building fronts, but not marked with a telltale Cash Here sign.
Not that she could read the French signs.
The cobblestone street narrowed and forked off at angles. No streets were left or right, just heading more slightly to the right or veering off to the left. It wouldn’t be difficult to get lost.
As long as she could see the top of the Eiffel Tower—which she could—Aby was confident she’d find her way home.
“Finally!”
She rushed to the teller, inserted her credit card and selected a hundred euros. She wasn’t sure about the exchange, but that should be more than enough to tide her over for a few days.
The machine spit out crisp colored bills that she marveled over. European money was so pretty. Artwork, really. She’d have to save one as a souvenir.
Tucking the cash into her skirt pocket she retraced her steps, but, as expected, when it came to a choice between veering and angling she couldn’t recall which she had previously chosen.
She scented the river to her right, and so chose that direction. This wouldn’t be difficult at all, thanks to her homing instincts. She could find her way back blindfolded.
Brimming with renewed confidence, Aby turned the corner and collided with a tall leering man.
“Excusez-moi,” he said as his fingers closed about her wrists.
She tried to disentangle from his firm grip. “Let go!”
“This way.” He tugged her down a narrow alley, still gray with shadows because the sunlight hadn’t yet crept between the buildings.
He was strong and there was no way she’d manage to loosen herself from his tight grip.
“What do you want?”
“You, cherie,” he said brusquely. Slamming her against a brick wall, he pressed the length of his body against her.
Aby choked on a scream. It tangled in her throat, becoming muffled, insignificant. Instinct kicked in. As her pupils widened, his face sharpened before her peripheral images blurred. She clawed at him, but he held her wrists above her head so her fingernails cut nothing but air.
She recalled Max’s warning that the demons would merely laugh at her silly kicks. Far as she could tell, this was but a man.
A man, not a demon. She wasn’t afraid of a man.
Aby aimed her knee for his groin. The direct hit resulted in hot, nasty breath chuffing across her face.
Her wrists free, she pressed her hands to the wall behind her for stability, then kicked out her foot. As it connected with his chest, the pain brought him down. Blood scented the air and he stumbled against the opposite wall.
Aby spun and kicked high, landing her foot against his gut. He let out a groan and hit the ground, knees first. He swayed, probably more surprised that a woman had brought him down than actually hurt.
Knowing she had to act quickly, Aby delivered another kick under his jaw. The knockout punch. He went down on his side, out cold.
“Right, then.” She clapped her palms together once, and skipped through the shadows in search of the light.
A portion of the shadow clung to the wall above the fallen man, then peeled away and formed a human shape in the center of the street. The gray figment shivered and began to solidify, taking on color and flesh and clothing.
With a deep inhale, Max resumed his human form, his head bent over the man’s body. He had been knocked out. A gash under his chin, from a spike heel, still bled.
“Impressive,” he muttered. But he couldn’t manage a smile.
He’d come upon them as the man held Aby against the wall. Prepared to shift out of shadow form and lash out with his whip, Max had paused when Aby’s first kick had taken the attacker by surprise. She did pack a wallop with those killer high heels.
Sexy and dangerous, she’d defeated her opponent with little fanfare. Yet, Max suspected, she’d surprised herself with her skills. But it hadn’t been a fluke. She was strong.
Severo had sheltered her for so long that perhaps now, out on her own, Aby would finally learn her true strength and come into her own. Max liked the idea of watching her grow and get stronger, more independent.
He hadn’t realized how much he needed a woman’s company until Aby. But had he stolen her innocence to satisfy his needs? Until Aby he’d not considered the emotional implications of his actions. He’d become unfeeling.
She was teaching him self-awareness—lost long ago following Rebecca’s death—and he was glad for it.
He wondered if she’d tell him about this encounter.
He did not like the smell of fried eggs. Max grimaced as he entered the apartment and found Aby sitting on the divan, finishing a plate of fluffy yellow eggs and melon.
“You went out for food?”
“Just the market across the street. You can see it from the window.”
He eyed the grocery store from the eagle’s-eye view at the window. Aby had run into her attacker a quarter mile to the north down the twist of streets that led to the eighth arrondissement. “No problems?”
“What problem could I have, running out for eggs and fruit?” She strode past him. “I’m fine, Max. But you’ve been gone all night.”
The plate clinked as she set it in the sink.
The soft swish of her skirts played a musical tease as she came up behind him. Hugging him, she pressed a hand across his heart.
“Did you find Rainier?”
“Yes and no.” Clasping her hand over his chest, he pointed with his other hand toward a neighborhood across the river. “See the smoke?”
“Did a building start on fire?”
“The Regina. Just after midnight.”
“You think Rainier started it?”
“He sent a demon lackey. A few rooms took the damage, including the one registered in my name.”
“So he tried to kill you? That makes little sense. If Rainier wants to summon the deprivation demon, he needs you to do so.”
He nuzzled his face against the top of her head. Her hair tickled his nose.
“I don’t know what his game is. He’s not as keen on losing immortality as I am. Why would he be? And I tracked a demon from the hotel. It confessed to starting the fire.”
“You think Rainier controlled it?”
“I know he did.”
“Takes a powerful witch or wizard to do something like that. The only way Rainier could control a demon is if he’s learned magic.”
“But it’s possible?”
“Sure. Any man can learn the craft, if they dedicate themselves. I can’t imagine they’d ever be as good or accomplished as a real blood-born witch.”
“Maybe he’s got a witch working for him? And yet, the demon did call him a demon wizard. Never heard the term before.”
“Neither have I.”
“A wizard who summons demons, who is also immortal and unkillable. How do I fight something like that?”
She turned and offered her gaze to his. “You’ll have to do more research on Rainier so you know exactly what you’re dealing with.”
“I don’t have time.”
“Why? Is the demon shadow inside knocking to get out? What’s a few more days, Max? You’ve waited two and a half centuries.”
He dropped their embrace and paced the living-room floor. She could never understand. A few more days were a lifetime after his wretched centuries.
While Aby lived many lives, they were so short and she forgot from one life to the next. She couldn’t fathom what his life was like. Without sleep. Without care. Without satisfaction.
