by Emma Holly
“Okay,” Iksander said. “You have my attention.”
“I am an angel,” Connor informed him.
Iksander’s brows shot up. Inside, more than his eyebrows were reacting. Georgie’s probable lover was an angel? A demon would have preferable. Ifrit weren’t cold at least, and they could on occasion be reasoned with. From what the sultan understood of the divine race, they followed the Creator’s orders without question or compassion. How could Georgie have fallen for such a being? Moreover, why would an angel want her to?
Hoping his horror didn’t show, he gestured for Connor to continue.
“I haven’t shared this with Georgie yet,” Connor said, “but my first conscious memory is being called to watch over a mirror space Luna’s ifrits created. Though they knew I’d arrived, they didn’t realize what I was. Indeed, the empress still believes I am a demon she summoned.”
“She pulled you out of the mirror space to walk around in that body?”
“Not exactly. I wished to have a more equal friendship with Georgie. When Luna put this shell on offer, I propelled a portion of my energy into it. The rest of me continues to watch over and supervise the mirror space. —I’ll explain what that is later,” Connor promised Georgie when she sat forward.
“I lost much of my connection to my other half after I became physical. I don’t know what the empress plans, only that she has more . . . pots on the fire than hoping to torment you by altering Georgie’s history.”
This made sense. Luna must have been here for years. A nature like hers wouldn’t sit idle. Iksander shuddered to think what new objectives she might have come up with to entertain herself. “Can you probe your other half for more information?”
“I doubt it will act against her interests,” Connor said. “It is more angelic and thus more devoted than I am. It doesn’t think there’s anything wrong with supporting her.”
“Jesus,” Georgie murmured beneath her breath.
The angel flushed slightly but didn’t apologize.
“Okay,” Iksander said. “That’s unfortunate but—hopefully—not the end of the world.” Titus kneaded his leg as he petted him and thought. Considering Connor’s mixed allegiance, he decided not to mention Joseph the Magician’s untested theory that killing Luna might break the curse. He shifted his gaze to Georgie, who watched him warily. He wondered if he were too eager to trust her. Then again, with Luna here, did he have the luxury of avoiding it? The chance Luna didn’t know he’d arrived seemed minuscule. “There’s something you could help me with, if you’re willing.”
“Me?” Georgie’s eyes widened.
“I need to locate some friends. Your magic would lend extra effectiveness to the spell.” Since his magic was almost entirely disabled, this was understating it.
“I’m not magic,” Georgie denied. “Not like Connor. I just dabble.”
“I assure you your gift is sufficient for my needs. On top of which, I cannot ask Connor this favor. He may not sense his other half, but his other half may sense him. If it thinks I am a threat to Luna, who knows what it will do?”
Connor and Georgie both looked startled by this idea.
“Can I give you my answer tomorrow?” she responded.
He didn’t want to wait, but he needed to search Francine’s old New York Times newspapers anyway. “Tomorrow would be fine. In the meantime, please don’t share what we’ve discussed with anyone. Don’t even talk about it to each other unless you’re within these walls. I saw your wards,” he added to Connor before turning back to Georgie. “It’s the literal truth that my people’s future existence depends on your discretion.”
When he rose, Georgie did as well.
She held his gaze. Her face was different in more ways than simply having colorful hair or a few eyebrow rings. She claimed she’d been loved, but she wasn’t as trusting or soft as the other her.
“I’ll take your people’s safety seriously,” she said.
He nodded, praying this was the case, and left the couple with polite words.
As he crossed the street to Hamilton Salvage, his neck was tight. He couldn’t shake the sensation of being watched. Probably he was. Luna was here, in this town with him. Like him, she’d only left part of her spirit trapped in her stone statue.
He didn’t know enough curses to express his dismay.
When he reached the room he’d been given at the junk shop, he sat on the cot to think. He had to act as if he didn’t know his enemy were here, as if she weren’t surveilling him. As long as his suffering entertained the empress, she’d likely spare his life. He needed that breathing room. In his current state, a four-year-old ifrit could outspell him. He had no defenses against a sorceress as powerful as Luna. Well, no defenses except a human and an angel—hardly his idea of good allies.
He reached into his jacket pocket to pull out the item he’d stolen from Georgie’s kitchen. Her metal measuring implement shone dully in the electric light.
He’d taken it because, as he leaned there on her island, he’d felt a glimmer of his magic come back on line. He’d realized Georgie’s vibe infused the utensils with which she cooked. Instinct had made him tuck the thing in his pocket. Now he wondered if he could use her human magic to jumpstart his. The measuring cup’s mates were inside Connor’s protections. Maybe if he linked the two together, he could listen in on her deciding whether to help him. If her answer were negative, at least he’d be forewarned.
Go on then. Now isn’t the time to quibble about the ethics of eavesdropping.
He cradled the cup his hands. Though he knew watch spells might have been installed in this room, he deliberately didn’t look for them. He closed his eyes and concentrated, picturing what he wanted as clearly as he could.
“Creator,” he murmured, “if it does not offend, please allow me to overhear this couple’s speech.”
A subtle hum touched the bones in his fingers as the spell came alive. After that, all he had to do was press the cup against his ear.
TOO RATTLED BY CONNOR’S visit to fuss over a full-blown dinner, Georgie decided apples and cheese and cookies served at the island were meal enough. Connor ate his cookies first, but who could scold an angel?
“I have this urge to check the library at Ravenwings,” she confessed. “To see if Iksander’s claims are true. Maybe a newer issue of that demon tabloid would cover what happened to his city.”
Connor shifted on his tall factory stool. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea. The demon captain walked in on you last time. I think the sultan is right about not trusting other people with his story. If the rest of me might betray us to Luna, that’s even truer for the ifrits. They’re Luna’s magically bound slaves. If she knows which questions to ask, she can compel them to answer.”
“But you want us to help Iksander. You believe him.” She watched Connor’s troubled face as he tipped his half-full glass of milk back and forth.
“I do. I had an awful feeling when he described Luna turning his citizens to stone—not imagination but presentiment. In my mind, I heard wind whistling around their statues, tearing off tiny particles. I suspect his people can’t last like that forever. Eventually they’ll die.” He lifted serious eyes to her. “If you’d been one of his citizens, this would be you he was trying to save. He may have been an imperfect husband, but I think he’s a good ruler.”
“So we help him,” she said, still uncertain but wanting to settle the issue.
“So we do,” Connor said.
He didn’t seem worried what that might involve. Suddenly not hungry, Georgie pushed her plate away. “What do I do about Alma?”
“Staying away from her is probably wise. You wouldn’t want her picking up on your changed feelings.”
“That’s for sure.” She sighed. “Her being a genie sorceress is so weird. I always thought Alma and I weren’t close because she was awkward at nurturing. I told myself buying gifts was how she showed affection. Now I know we weren’t close because she never cared.”
“I’m not sure Luna recognizes caring when she feels it.”
Georgie grimaced. “She must have studied me in that other timeline. She knew just how to lure me in. With Ravenwings. With promises of freedom. Hell, she judged me pretty well when she gave you that body.”
“Luna made mistakes too. She thought she was giving this body to an ifrit.”
Amused by that, Georgie palmed his jaw. “Silly empress, mistaking you for a demon.”
To her surprise, Connor didn’t smile with her. “Georgie, just because Luna didn’t love you as you deserve doesn’t mean you’re not lovable.”
Her smile twisted sardonically. “You always say what I need to hear.”
“My love for you is no pretense. Please tell me you have no doubts on that.”
She cupped his face in both hands, her thumbs petting his strong cheekbones. “I don’t. I can’t. How would I stand life without believing you care for me?”
“You would stand it. You’re strong, Georgie. Fortunately, you don’t have to endure it, for love you I always will.” A grin broke through his mood like a ray of sunshine, making her laugh at his irrepressible positivity.
“Interested in proving that?” she teased.
He caressed her wrist then pulled her around the island into his arms. “You are the one I cannot live without.”
He meant if the choice were between her and Luna. The realization unexpectedly sobered her. She laid her hands on his chest and looked up at him. She knew his loving nature and had always treasured it. Maybe she shouldn’t ask her next question, but she couldn’t stop herself.
“Did you sleep with her?” she whispered.
His eyes darkened with compassion. “Only with you. I have happily committed myself to that.”
Georgie bit her lip. “I’d understand if you were tempted. Alma is beautiful and experienced and she certainly likes men. Then there’s the whole amazingly powerful sorceress thing. Plus you did . . . do partly love her.”
“Georgie, she does not call to me in that way.”
His answer should have been more comforting.
“Someday,” she said slowly, “someone else might call to you like I do. You have so much love in you. The surprise would be if it didn’t happen.” She shook her head, her fingers stroking his chest lightly. “No one can own an angel. Maybe no one should.”
“But I’m only a small angel,” he said, not quite succeeding in making it a joke.
She smiled faintly. “I should enjoy you while I have you.”
“You will always have me.”
“Then I should enjoy you while I have you to myself.”
He began to speak but she stilled his lips with her thumbs. She tiptoed up and kissed him. He broke free after a few seconds, his brows drawn together in concern. “Georgie, why are you worrying about this now?”
“I thought I was kissing you.”
“I don’t like you doubting my adoration.”
“I don’t think that’s what I’m doing.” She rubbed his broad, warm back then slid her hands down to squeeze his glutes. “Come on, Connor. Reacquaint me with the part of you that isn’t small at all.”
When she pulled their hips together, that part shifted in his jeans.
Connor smiled. “You can’t have forgotten my male organ in so brief a time.”
She started to make a comment she hoped was funny, but he cut her off with a blistering kiss. His hands surrounded her bottom, lifting her fully against him. She loved when he went into take-no-prisoners mode. Her body tingled, her tongue striving to match his in plundering.
This seemed to motivate him. He groaned, moving them toward the couch in the living room. Simply knowing where he was headed heightened her excitement. Though the antique Chesterfield wasn’t huge, the tufted back and the well-stuffed seat were perfect for having sex. Repeated experiments had taught them its best angles, providing ideal spots for bracing body parts.
When Connor laid her on the broken-in leather cushions, Georgie pulled him greedily over her.
“I wish to take you,” he said breathlessly. “Please remove your blue jeans.”
“You remove them,” she challenged.
The flush that darkened his expression made her hot all over. Giving her what he wanted, his fingers wrenched her button open and pulled down the zipper.
“Lift,” he ordered, grabbing the denim by the waist.
The moment her hips came up, he dragged her jeans and panties down.
“Arms,” he instructed, just as speedily peeling off her shirt and sports bra when she raised them. His magnificent chest came into view as he wrestled off his shirt and threw it aside. Her teeth caught her lower lip. He’d gone to work on his zipper, which was bulging.
Connor never took long to go from zero to nuclear.
Interestingly, he didn’t take off his jeans, just spread the front and drove one hand into his briefs. He masturbated for a couple strokes underneath the cotton, something she’d never seen him do before. His adeptness at the motion told her this wasn’t the first time he’d given himself pleasure.
“Oh,” she said, startled into speaking. “I didn’t know you did that without me.”
Heat flashed into his eyes but he didn’t speak.
“I should have guessed,” she said. “You do like sex a lot.”
“I like sex with you,” he growled, shoving the stretchy briefs underneath his now steely erection.
He was on his knees on the couch cushions, his shaft thrusting hard and straight from his groin. Georgie hitched up her right leg so that her calf lay along the sofa’s back. The pose exposed her pussy, drawing Connor’s attention there. He couldn’t miss the arousal glistening between her folds. As he noticed it, a generous bead of excitement welled from the center of his cock’s head.
“It isn’t wrong to like pleasuring yourself,” she said.
Her husky tone sent a shiver down his back. She cruised one hand down her belly and over her hipbone. He shivered again as she parted her labia. Her clitoris was pulsing, her excitement even higher from knowing he watched her. She stroked the channels around the swollen bud, making the little organ move up and down for him.
“Do you want me to lose control?” he asked.
She smiled and moved two fingers onto the rod.
“See?” she said, circling and rubbing until her hips naturally thrust up with enjoyment. “I like pleasuring myself too.”
His erection jerked, his hands moving restlessly on the muscles of his thighs. “I want to be inside you while you do that.”
Georgie wagged her eyebrows. “No one’s stopping you, loverboy.”
“I will go fast. And hard. And very deep inside you.”
She laughed at his gruff warning. “Like I’d mind you doing that!”
CONNOR HAD EVERY INTENTION of being tender and reassuring. He’d forgotten how good Georgie was at pushing him to his edge. He had a sudden longing to grab her wrists and yank them beside her head. He stopped himself at the last moment. Though he liked restraining her, he didn’t want to miss out on the sensation of her pleasuring herself.
He braced one palm on the arm of the couch instead, reaching down with the other to steer his cock to her hot entrance. He tucked just the crown inside her, loving how her flesh clung and pulled at him.
“Ready?” he asked, breathless from her hand rubbing between them.
She smiled wickedly. “The readiest.”
He slid into her completely, pushing firmly but not rushing. The feel of her giving way was worth the self-control. Her pussy was deliciously tight and wet as it welcomed him.
She squirmed closer, her spine wriggling with bliss like his. “Is that what you call fast and hard?”
“I’m taking your measure first.”
“You don’t know it already?”
“Each time we make love is a new experience and a gift.”
“A gift, huh?”
Her eyes danced with laughter. Rather than answer, he demon
strated. He withdrew and surged in again. The foot she hadn’t draped along the couch back found a spot to plant and push up at him. Connor moaned as this intensified his entry. “You make my nerves sing every time I thrust into you.”
She touched his face then ran her free hand down his back. “Thrust some more, please. I won’t last long like this.”
If she wanted more, he’d give it to her. He resettled himself for better leverage, swinging one foot off the couch to the floor. Sensing he meant to make good on his promise, Georgie sucked a quick breath and nodded.
With a lovely sense of exultation, he let go and pumped into her.
The feelings that created were amazingly sharp and strong. Connor had to fight not explode at once. He held on for his sake as well as hers. This was so good. This was love and sex and freedom expanding all through him. Georgie’s cries urged more and more from him. She thrust to him, clutched at him, one hand’s nails digging into his clenched shoulder.
“Yes,” she groaned. “Oh my God, go harder.”
The motions of the fingers that rubbed her clit grew frenzied.
He snarled as their pelvises strove together. She was using so much strength. Obviously, she wanted him to match it. He drew his cock back and slung in deep. Her pussy pulsed around him, her neck arching as she came.
“Again,” he ordered.
His voice was hoarse, his testicles drawing up. He should help her obey him. He gripped her buttocks and changed angles, his painfully engorged cock now running extra pressure up the front of her sheath, where her nerves clustered most thickly. She let out a sound of pleasure, her beautifully wet passage fisting him in heat.
The squeeze on his shaft felt incredible. She was simultaneously softer and tighter. God, he was close. His organ swelled another millimeter. He shortened his strokes, hanging on by a thread. Speed was the thing he needed. Friction. His sexual system coiled, desperate to break through the last threshold. Watching her breasts bouncing from their motions made him feel like his cock would split. Her nipples were tight and reddened by arousal.
He gasped half her name then a word without sense. Georgie’s pussy fluttered a second time. He couldn’t hold on any longer. With a growl like an animal, he ground into her and climaxed.
