by Lisa Sanchez
“Easy there, lass.” He held his hands up in front of him as if to ward me off. “What was I supposed to do? Leave you to cry on the cold pavement? I had no choice but to touch you.”
“So touch me again.” I continued to stalk forward, my breaths coming in shallow pants. The mere thought of our skin making contact had me breathless.
“No.”
I stopped moving. He’d shot me down. “Why not?”
“Because I have a choice now, and I choose not to.” He looked pained as he spoke, torn almost.
“Why don’t you want to touch me?” The sour pangs of rejection flooded my system, and doubt took over. Who was I trying to fool? Quinn was the very image of perfection, beautiful, charming, mythical, and deadly. I, on the other hand, was a very sweaty, very mortal, Big Booty Judy. I remained where I was, a mere two feet away from him, gawking at him like a complete dolt.
His expression softened. “It’s not that, love. If you only knew how badly I want you, you’d never ask that question again. I choose not to touch you, because I don’t trust myself. I don’t know if I have the willpower to keep my hands where they should be.” His sapphire eyes met mine head on and I knew he told the truth.
The butterflies returned full force and a big goofy smile made its way across my face. He wanted me as badly as I did him. That fact sent my heart soaring.
My earlier determination returned with gusto. I crossed the small gap that lay between us, standing as close as I could, without actually touching him.
Lifting my hand up toward his chest, I looked him in the eye, willing him with my heart and mind to let me try. “Please? I want so badly to touch you, to connect with you.”
“Aye, I feel the same way.” He spoke softly, staring at me intently.
The magnetic pull between us intensified with each passing second.
I licked my lips in anticipation, every inch of my skin screaming out for his caress. “You can touch me through my clothes. That much we found out when you carried me here. I know we can do this. I trust you. You just need to trust yourself.”
He frowned for a moment as he took in my words, and then nodded quietly. “Very well, we can try.”
My heart leapt the moment he gave in, and I was sure I would burst from the excitement.
Quinn seemed to enjoy my glowing mood and let out a low chuckle.
Unable to wait a second longer, I slowly raised my hand toward his muscular chest. He wore his standard black t-shirt under a black leather jacket, and my heart quickened, knowing only a thin piece of fabric lay between my fingertips and the warm flesh of his chest.
As I made contact with the cotton fabric of his shirt, a powerful surge of joy nearly swept me off my feet. His rock hard pecs, the deep ridges of his abdominals, felt amazing against my hand as I let my fingers trail down his shirt. What I didn’t feel was euphoria. There were no aftereffects from his wretched curse.
“Oh…oh, God…I can touch you.” I was breathless with anticipation and sure I’d burst if he didn’t reciprocate soon. “Your turn. Try.”
Wearing a pained look on his face, Quinn raised his hand, holding it mere inches away from my chest. My heart beat wildly as I watched him hesitate, warring with himself internally about his decision.
It felt as though time stood still. There was only the two of us in existence. I heard nothing else, saw nothing else, and smelled nothing else. Quinn enveloped each of my senses completely.
And then he touched me.
My breath caught the moment his warm hand gently came to rest over my heart. Electricity sparked, and a gentle surge of energy flowed between us, but there was no over-the-top, near orgasmic reaction from the contact. What I experienced was the normal electric attraction that came when two young people were in…love? No. It was too early to be in love. I’d only just met Quinn. Any talk of love was just crazy. Yet, as I looked at him, my heart filled, bursting with an emotion so strong, I didn’t know what else to call it. It had to be love.
I gasped, awareness knocking me off my feet like a wrecking ball. I was in love with Quinn. And it wasn’t some piddly, preteen crush either. I was thoroughly captivated, completely enamored, one hundred percent in love with him. I didn’t care that he didn’t share my feelings. The fact he was a mythical being didn’t matter. The legendary creature standing before me was all I’d ever want, and I knew deep down he was essential to my survival. He was the very air I breathed.
He stared down at his hand still pasted to my chest, his eyes full of surprise, shock, and joy. His lips parted slightly and I could swear I heard his breath catch.
He felt it too.
I raised my hand, placing it gently back onto his chest. We stood a hair’s breadth from each other, touching, feeling, wanting. His ancient heart thumped rapidly in his chest and, God…I loved the fact I had such an effect on him. My own heart worked overtime anytime he was near. The moment was intimate, very intense, and not nearly long enough.
Quinn dropped his hand, stepped back from me, and cleared his throat.
I mirrored his action. “Um…yeah. Wow.” Words couldn’t describe how I felt at that moment. Enraptured. On fire. Complete.
“We should get you home,” he said with a stutter, and took another step back, scrubbing nervously at his closely shaven head. A hint of a smile peeked out of the corner of his mouth.
Having made great strides in such a short time frame, I didn’t push him any further. I followed him down a long hallway and out into his large garage, where several different cars sat, all sleek, shiny, and expensive. I looked at Quinn, then back at the cars and shook my head in astonishment. The faerie was loaded.
Walking over to a particularly shiny black Porsche, he opened the door, gesturing for me to get in. “Let’s get you home, little girl.”
Chapter 11
THE RIDE BACK to my apartment was interesting, to say the least. Several major events, both incredible and shitty, took place at the start of my day and my poor body didn’t know how to react. Fear, remorse, elation and hope were all interwoven and coursing through me simultaneously. I struggled to hold myself together, but images of my demon stalker burst through my conscious thoughts, shredding my psyche and wreaking havoc on my stomach.
Just when I thought the fear would chew me up and spit me out, another image, one of Quinn with his hand over my heart, would make its way to the forefront of my mind. A warm, comforting sensation would spread like wildfire over me, followed by a ditzy smile and uncontrollable giggling. The roller coaster of emotions continued until Quinn finally broke the silence.
The heat of his gaze burned like fire against my cheek. “I can sense your fear, mo chrói, but we really need to talk about what happened this morning.” His face was serious, his jaw clenched, a hint of worry peeking out from behind his sapphire eyes.
I nodded in agreement. “I know,” I said with a sigh. “What was that thing that attacked me?” Part of me didn’t want to know. I kept telling myself ignorance was bliss. Protect yourself, girl. Throw a blanket over your head and hide! My more practical side disagreed. If I knew more about the underworld creep tailing me, I could arm myself with knowledge and be prepared if it should come after me again, which my gut told me it would.
Quinn gripped the steering wheel so tightly I feared he might rip it off its column. His eyes went wild. “I’ve a few ideas on what it was that came after you. Nasty fuckers, the lot o’ them.”
I cringed at his words. I’d grown used to hearing Quinn curse, but this was different. Warning bells rang loud and long in my ears. I looked over, questioning him with my eyes as we pulled into the parking lot just outside my building.
Quinn parked the car, kept his hands on the steering wheel and let out a long sigh, before turning to face me. His expression was one of determination and sorrow.
I knew he meant to fill me in on the finer details of what he knew, to prepare me for what was to come, but the look of sadness etched across his face tore at my heart. It was evi
dent he knew the truth would frighten me, and was fired up by it.
Determination won out, his gaze unwavering as he readied himself to speak. “I would assume by now you would have come to accept the existence of mythical creatures in your world?”
I let out a loud sarcastic snort. I believed all right. The question was: would anyone ever believe me? Probably not.
He threw me a disapproving glare. “You’re not crazy. Stay focused.”
Freaking mind reader.
He went on. “Along with the more loveable creatures, such as me,” he held his hand to his chest, “there are, in fact, legions of creatures walking the earth that are fiercely evil.”
Legions?
Not really what I wanted to hear. “Okay,” I answered, my voice shaky. I took a deep breath, never taking my eyes from his, willing him to go on.
“At first, I thought it might be some type of ghoul that came after you, since they can change their shape. Foul, mindless creatures they are. They’re usually controlled by another to do their dirty work. Your demon seems to have a mind of its own, so I’m fairly certain we can rule out ghouls.”
“All right,” I breathed. “So ghouls are out, then.” I tried my best to act nonchalant about the whole thing in an effort to keep myself from completely freaking out. But in reality my heart pounded so hard I thought it might jump out of my chest and perform show tunes.
I glanced down at my lap where my hands lay sweaty and restless. I swiped them across my sweatpants before looking up. “Are there any other types of shapeshifters?”
“Aye, there are plenty of shifty buggers prowling about, but it’s identifying which one that’s the trouble. Most of your basic shapeshifting demons transform from human form into birds or creatures that live in the water. Your demon chose to morph into a giant black dog. He’s got power, and a lot of it.”
I swallowed hard, a lump the size of Texas lodged in my throat at the mention of the shiteous creature from earlier that morning. The sound of its feral snarling still rang in my ears. “So…if my attacker wasn’t your garden variety shifter, then what was it?”
“I’m fairly certain we are dealing with one of two demons: either the Ordog or the Zmeu.”
Possessing the mental capacity of a box of rocks, I’d been clinging to the notion that knowledge was key. Knowing exactly what type of demon was after me would surely make me feel better. There had to be some truth to all that “know your enemy” bullshit people liked to push. Yeah, I didn’t feel any better after listening to Quinn’s suspicions. I was still scared shitless. “Ordog, huh? That sounds about right. I mean, it did turn into a dog.”
A low chuckle escaped Quinn’s lips and I scowled at him. I didn’t particularly care for being laughed at, especially when it was regarding something so serious.
He took notice of my pissed off demeanor and plastered a mask of controlled seriousness across his masculine features. “Well, I suppose it could change into a dog, though I’ve never seen him do so. Actually, I’ve only encountered the shite once, a few centuries ago. It took the form of a shepherd and attempted to abduct a young farm girl.”
Still cheesed over his earlier bout of laughter at my expense, I crossed my arms over my chest with a huff. “I see. And would this farm girl be someone you were trying to diddle?” I was being ridiculous. I knew it, but continued on with my mini tantrum anyway, glowering at Quinn.
“Are ye jealous?” His face scrunched up in disbelief as he scrutinized me.
“No!” I said, my face barreling past red into a deep shade of purple. I broke his gaze, embarrassed by my irrational and, might I add, stupid behavior. I had no right to be upset with him for things he did hundreds of years before we met. The past was the past, and I needed to let go.
Quinn sat back in his seat and ran his hand over his face before unleashing the full force of his charm on me. “Relax, my love. In all my five hundred years, I’ve never once come across anyone near the likes of you.”
I turned to face him again with angry eyes and a loud “humph!” I felt like a shrew, but couldn’t seem to stop my idiotic behavior.
“Let’s try and get back to the issue at hand, shall we?” Quinn delivered a pleading look, successfully breaking my jealous tirade. “Personally, I’d put my money on the Zmeu being your demon.”
“What do you know about it?” I asked, unsure if I really wanted an answer or not. I was fairly certain I wouldn’t like what I’d hear and debated for a moment about whether or not to tell him to just forget the whole thing. Realizing I needed as much information about my attacker as possible, I put on my big girl panties, manned up and listened.
“Not much. I’ve never actually crossed its path. I do know its origins are in Romania, and it’s known for coveting beautiful young women, who it spirits away to its underworld lair. Not only can this monster change its appearance, but it can also fly and packs one hell of a punch.”
Nausea rolled around my stomach upon hearing Quinn’s description of the ancient demon. I agreed with his assessment. All the characteristics seemed to fit. The demon had swooped past me while I ran as though it were flying. Much like Quinn, it had an unnatural amount of strength, which I’d witnessed firsthand during their smackdown.
“Okay, then. What does all this mean for me? I…ugh…I have to go on living. I can’t run away and hide. I have school and work.” Frustration took over and my voice grew louder and higher-pitched with each word I spoke. I wanted to hit something. “I refuse to let an underworld dickhead bring me down!” I’d had enough struggle and angst to last me a lifetime. I was ready for the good times to start rolling and I wanted to roll along with them. Demons, be damned!
Quinn leaned toward me and met my eyes head on. “It means I’m not letting you out of my sight. That’s what it means.” There was a sense of finality in his voice, one that provoked my stubborn nature, making me want to dig my heels in and protest, no matter how absurd.
“You can’t possibly be with me every waking moment of the day. I refuse to be babysat. I’m not a child!”
“Then don’t act like one,” he shouted, slamming his hands against the wheel. At the rate our conversation was going, German engineering didn’t stand a chance. He’d rip apart his precious Porsche one piece at a time. “You’re bloody gone in the head if you think I’ll be letting you traipse about on your own after this morning. Damn stubborn woman!” He stared at me with his lips smashed together, his nostrils flaring with each frustrated breath.
I was tempted to laugh, because for a moment, he reminded me of an angry bull ready to charge. Deciding I didn’t want to know what he’d look like popping a vein, I kept my amusement hidden. “Look,” I said, trying to calm my voice. “I’m not trying to piss you off. I’m just trying to maintain some level of normalcy in my life. This whole thing with the demon…you…none of it is normal.”
After a few deep breaths and some more irritated swipes across his face Quinn spoke. “Let me ask you this, Ryann. If your friend Jessica was being tormented by someone, something, would you leave her to her own devices or would you do everything you could to ensure her safety?”
Damn smart faerie. He pulled the friend card.
I had no snappy comeback. He had me. If the tables were turned and my best friend was under attack, I’d move heaven and earth to help her, no matter how much she protested.
Though I’d only known him for a short period of time, I felt fiercely protective of Quinn. I knew I’d go to any length to protect him as well. He was the center of my universe.
“Point taken,” I said, feeling ridiculous. What the hell was I thinking anyway, arguing with him about wanting to spend time with me? Quinn was the living, breathing embodiment of the perfect male, and everything I could ever want in a man. I needed to get my head checked.
“This isn’t about me trying to control you, mo chrói. Friends help each other out in times of need. You need my help right now.”
“Friends?” I turned my head and sta
red out the window, focusing on a small patch of fallen leaves that blew across the pavement. I didn’t want to look at him. I thought we’d moved past the whole “friends” issue that morning when we’d finally laid hands on one another. As far as I was concerned, “friend” was the vilest word in the English language, and I considered writing a strongly worded letter to the Powers That Be about having it removed from the dictionary.
Quinn gave me an eye roll and a snort. “We’re a bit more than that.”
My heart sank.
He wasn’t giving me what I wanted. I was starving for a declaration, an admission of his feelings for me. I was hungry for the main course, and Quinn tossed me nothing but breadcrumbs. Goddammit. Give me the meat and potatoes, not the frigging appetizer.
“A bit? All you feel for me is a bit more than friendship?” I knew he had feelings for me, he’d already admitted as much. It shamed me to act so needy and I vowed to shut my yap before I embarrassed myself any further.
“Look at me, Ryann.”
My head turned before my mind knew what I was doing. Damn my stupid body. I had zero control over myself when I was near him.
All traces of anger and frustration were gone as Quinn captured my attention with a pair of tender eyes. “Tá mo chrói istigh iónat.” His voice was low and gentle, full of emotion. I didn’t understand a single word of what he said, but was mesmerized all the same by its rich timbre.
Along with his expression, Quinn’s mood softened exponentially, his posture easing up from the stiff pose he’d held while arguing about my demon attacker. Leaning over the center console, so his face was mere centimeters away from my own, his deep, blue eyes ensnared mine, making it impossible to look away. It was also impossible to do things like breathe, and I felt lightheaded from holding my breath.
With my heart thundering away in my chest as though it were about to break free, I spoke. “What did you just say?”
