Fallen Gods II: Jaded Prey

by Lorie O'Clare

  “Something upset you when you called me to you last night,” Merco offered, his green eyes searching hers, filling her chilled body with warmth as she drowned in his gaze.

  Bridget’s expression hardened at his words. She let go of Naomi, sighing. Bridget’s green eyes pierced through her, while she ran her slender fingers through her long hair.

  “Tell me what is bothering you,” she said softly, her tone comforting, reassuring that they were still good friends.

  Bone-like fingers suddenly pressed against the shaven skin between Naomi’s legs. Underneath her sweatpants, a hand crawled over her pussy. Probing and pushing her tender folds apart, the knobby fingers thrust inside her, a silent warning of what she would endure if she shared her nightmare with her friends.

  Tears welled in her eyes before she could stop them. She fisted her hands at her side, clamping her teeth together, forcing her mind to accept that the hand wasn’t really there. No one was trying to finger-fuck her. She didn’t understand the mind games this terrible demon played with her. But he wouldn’t win.

  Cold sweat broke out over her body, terror riveting through her while she fought not to let her teeth chatter. Her heart raced in her chest, the urge to run from the apartment, run from all of them, run until this beast left her alone, consuming her.

  But that would be ridiculous. She couldn’t run from a thought. From a nightmare that now haunted her while she was awake.

  Taking a step backwards from all of them, the back of her legs hit against the coffee table. “I can’t tell you. I mean, there is nothing to tell.”

  They were all looking at her like she was crazy. And the confused expression on Merco’s face was worst of all. His dark skin made his thick brown hair appear almost shiny. Waving around his face, accentuating his strong features, he was a god. The sexiest man she’d ever laid eyes on. And here he was, standing in her living room giving her a pitiful look.

  She would die of embarrassment and humiliation before this night was over.

  “Come with me,” he said, his words leaving no room for discussion.

  Naomi worked to swallow. He held his hand out to her and her surroundings seemed to disappear.

  “No!” the demon creature screamed in her head. “Stay away from him. He will torture you worse than even I can.”

  She didn’t believe him. Nothing could be more torturous than the hideous demon.

  Merco smiled as if he heard her thoughts, felt her dilemma, and wished to reassure her. That smile did a number on her insides. In spite of her fear, of her near panic that the creature would destroy her sanity right there in her own living room in front of the few friends she had, that smile made her tummy do a flip-flop.

  He might be dangerous, preoccupied with an obsession for sex that she couldn’t comprehend but her body screamed for another chance to be with him.

  Glancing at Bridget, she saw her friend’s concern. Braze had pulled Bridget into his arms, watching Naomi over her head.

  Naomi took a step toward Merco and the pain hit her again, driving through her skull, rupturing every cell inside her. She doubled over, unable to conceal her reaction to what was happening to her.

  “Where did you cast the demon leader?” Merco sounded fierce as he gave Bridget a hard look.

  His strong hands suddenly were on Naomi, holding her, lifting her against his chest.

  “Damn it all to Hedel,” Bridget swore. “There is no way he could have…”

  Her words broke off. Merco held her now, his powerful grip pinning her to him. Her body throbbed, pulsated, the pain subsiding while torturous need enveloped her. She stared at Bridget, preoccupied at the same time with Merco’s body touching her practically everywhere.

  “What demon?” She was almost scared to ask.

  Chapter Ten

  Merco would not manipulate her in any way. He’d made a vow—a promise to himself. And damn it to all the hells if he would break it now.

  Naomi was in trouble. It didn’t take power to figure that one out. And he had no regrets bringing her home with him when she’d collapsed.

  Watching her now, stretched across his bed, her long legs twisted in his covers, the slow steady, rise and fall of her tummy, while her breasts remained full, perky, her nipples erect, she looked more beautiful the longer he stared.

  Her long red hair twisted into ringlets and fanned around her, looking radiant against his white silk sheets. One of her arms stretched to the edge of the bed while her other hand curled into a fist next to her cheek. Her eyelashes fluttered, a dream rushing through her. She looked so peaceful yet he could tell her mind raced through the actions of some event in her sleep.

  “What plagues you, beautiful?” he whispered, willing himself inside her mind as he studied her.

  Something blocked him, though, and it wasn’t Naomi. She was being tormented, influenced by someone’s magic, and that didn’t sit well with him. Not at all.

  He moved to the side of the bed, leaning forward enough to run his finger along her leg. She didn’t stir, her dream didn’t hesitate. Whoever or whatever had a hold on her wasn’t concerned with his presence. That irritated him even further.

  Nothing that he was aware of in this galaxy held more power than the gods—the elders of Hedel. They were the known strength that had seeded the universe. They controlled everything. Yet somehow, something had lodged its way inside Naomi, and didn’t give a rat’s ass that he stood there frowning down at it.

  “Get out of her now,” he hissed, leaning over her sleeping body, watching her eyelids flutter while her eyes darted back and forth under the fragile skin.

  Naomi gasped in her sleep, her full lips parting, that sensual mouth curving as if she would utter a word. Yet she said nothing.

  Something dark and forbidding shuddered through Merco. He watched her, not moving, while his insides hardened, a silent predatory instinct overwhelming him. Stalk and destroy whatever plagued her.

  He was so close to her, looking down over her, and he had even spoken out loud. She should stir, come out of her sleep, react to his presence somehow. Yet she slumbered, not stirring. This was terribly wrong.

  Pulling her out of her dream would be nothing. With a blink of an eye he could wake her, make her want him, fuck her until she couldn’t come anymore. That would be effortless, and his cock hardened at the thought.

  “No,” he told himself, refusing to use his powers to influence her.

  He had told himself when he first sought her out that he would seduce her without powers. Every muscle inside of him hardened, the realization that possibly he wanted more than a seduction.

  The need to protect her couldn’t be denied. And it would be so easy to do with his powers. But the fact that she slept soundly, that he couldn’t hear or see her dream, only told him that she wasn’t responding to him.

  “Damn it.” He stood, running his fingers through his hair, the sight of her plump breasts making his mouth water.

  Never had he wanted a woman more. He moved toward the bedroom door, ignoring his plush surroundings, her presence distracting him more than he cared to admit. Need burned through him, a pressure that he wasn’t accustomed to ignoring growing more and more uncomfortable by the moment.

  When was the last time he’d walked away from a naked woman on his bed? Had he ever refrained from fucking a woman if he was inclined to do so?

  Something about Naomi had crept through his system, made him want to see the bargain through he’d made with himself. But right now she didn’t need to be seduced. She needed to be protected, taken care of, and he had a burning need to do just that.

  And that didn’t sit well with him. Turning, he stared once again at her beautiful body, now appearing more relaxed than she had a minute before. She rolled to the side, the covers moving with her, leaving her smooth round ass exposed and so tempting.

  His fingers itched to touch that soft curve, to feel the silky texture of her skin.

  “Naomi.” He spoke her name out of n
eed more than wishing to wake her.

  His body screamed to be one with her, feel the heat from being buried deep inside her. He took a step closer to the bed, and then made himself stop, balling his hands into fists at his side. Grinding his teeth, feeling the ache grow as his cock throbbed in his jeans, he closed his eyes for a moment. Which didn’t do a damn bit of good. Her image was branded in his thoughts, her fresh scent filled his nostrils, taking over as if it were her casting the spell.

  “You are nothing more than a mortal,” he whispered through clenched teeth, willing himself to believe that she should adore him, sing his praises, worship him.

  Just as her kind had done for centuries.

  Shaking his head, he turned again. Naomi wasn’t just another mortal. She was a woman, simple and unique. And for some reason she had gotten under his skin and it appeared she planned to stay there for a while.

  “And who said humans couldn’t cast spells.” He made himself leave his room, disgusted with his thoughts that she should think him anymore than what he was.

  A horny immortal who had used women for way too many centuries.

  “Merco.” The woman’s voice calling him confused him for the briefest of seconds.

  Momentarily, he allowed his mind to think that Naomi called for him. He had just shut his bedroom door and he turned to stare at it.

  “There you are.” Bridget spoke from the top of the stairs, concern on her face as she stared down the hallway at him.

  Merco turned, staring at her, knowing before asking why she was here.

  “Hurt her and I swear I will kick your ass.” She thought her words instead of speaking them.

  Merco didn’t smile, knowing she meant it. He’d known Bridget since her youth, had watched over the centuries as her powers had grown. She’d had a run-in with the leader of the demons, and had lost her identity for a handful of centuries. But today, just a year or so since she had regained knowledge of who she was, she had complete control of her powers. He didn’t doubt she would be a fair match, and possibly capable of doing him harm if she caught him off-guard.

  Relaxing, he floated over the banister, and Bridget followed him down the stairs. Her frustration and anger filled the air around them. Merco wasn’t daunted by it. Bridget could play the protective friend all she wanted. He knew damn good and well he hadn’t done anything wrong, and if anything, he had done the right thing in bringing Naomi here when she collapsed. There was no way in hell he would leave her there in that apartment. Not until he figured out what had her acting the way she did. And he didn’t like the possibilities.

  “Is she here?” Braze knew the answer to that.

  Merco simply stared at him. His usually jovial friend gave him a hard stare. It didn’t intimidate him in the least. He landed in the living room and walked over to the bar. Holding out his hands he made a tray appear with three tall glasses, clinking with ice cubes. All of them could use a drink.

  “Something is terribly wrong here.” He turned to face both of them, holding out the tray.

  Bridget hesitated a moment and then accepted the drink, her long brown locks flowing over her shoulder and down her front. She was a beautiful woman, intelligent and sexy. At the moment her brow wrinkled, though, her short fingers, with her fingernails clipped short, brushing through her hair. The absent movement showed how distracted she was, how upsetting all of this was to her. That explained his friend’s serious look.

  “No shit.” Braze took a large gulp of his drink, glanced down at it, and changed it to a dark golden fluid. He then took another drink. “How many times have you fucked her so far?”

  Merco raised an eyebrow, an instant image of Naomi lying naked on his bed, her long red hair streaming down her creamy skin, consuming his thoughts.

  “Just once.” He knew why they asked, fucking could strengthen powers. “She’s mortal, though.”

  “But what if she is possessed?” Bridget asked, her worry turning to anger. “Merco. Naomi means a lot to me. She may just be another play toy to you, but you are fucking my dear friend.”

  He almost said she was more than a play toy. A warmth spread through him, an emotion he couldn’t identify. He cared about her. There was something wrong and she needed his protection. His insides burned with the thought that anyone would abuse her, possess her against her will. Granted he didn’t know her well, but he wouldn’t walk away and leave her suffering.

  “You don’t give me much credit,” he told her, relaxing his features, trying to get his insides to calm down, too.

  “That’s because I know you so well.” Bridget floated several feet above the ground, crossing her legs, and sitting comfortably in her faded jeans and T-shirt while she levitated. “I don’t understand why we can’t figure out what is bothering Naomi, though,” she mused, staring down at her glass.

  “She shows all the signs of being possessed.” Braze paced over to the windows that overlooked Merco’s well manicured yard.

  Merco moved to his couch, reclining and stretching his legs out in front of him underneath his glass coffee table. He finished off his drink and then let go of the glass. It disappeared and another appeared, this time with water. He didn’t feel like getting drunk. Naomi upstairs in his bedroom distracted him too much. Going up there to her right now wasn’t an option. But damn it to hell if he didn’t want to be with her.

  “If she were possessed, I would have seen the demon inside her.” And the motherfucker would have died a torturous death. “Besides, the demons are real scarce these days since Bridget destroyed their leader.”

  “You care about her,” Bridget almost whispered. “I never thought I would see such compassion in you, Merco. What is this?”

  Both of them studied him. He didn’t have to look up to know that.

  Compassion…caring…he did care for Naomi. What happened to her did matter to him. There was no ignoring the warmth that flushed through him every time he thought about her.

  “I know the difference between a human woman, and a woman of my own creation.” He didn’t want to justify thoughts that he wasn’t ready to acknowledge on his own. But he knew Bridget. She wouldn’t let it rest until he satisfied her curiosity. “I’m not in love with her. But I don’t want to see her hurt, either. And I will protect her if needed.”

  “Leave him alone, Bridget.” Braze finally came to his defense. Morning sunlight streamed through the glass behind him when he walked toward the center of the room toward her. “We all know there is a problem here. The question is, what is bothering Naomi? And why can’t we readily detect it in her thoughts?”

  Merco was no expert on demons. He usually managed to avoid the nasty creatures. And they sure as hell never sought him out.

  “Somehow it’s managed to mask itself from us.” Bridget straightened her legs until her feet touched the ground.

  Grabbing her hair from behind her neck, she twisted it, making him think of what it would be like to take Naomi’s hair like that, pull her head back, make her back arch, while he drove his cock deep inside her.

  She was just up the stairs, sleeping on his bed. The urge to leave his body, float up the stairs and plant kisses down her until she cooed herself awake made his cock soar to life in his jeans.

  Naomi’s sensuality amazed him. He had brought her desires to life without powers, without coercing her, and she had fucked him better than any of his own creations ever had. She was a gift, and one he wasn’t going to readily give up.

  There had to be a way to rid her of whatever plagued her.

  “No demon can stand on the altar at Hedel,” he mused, thinking out loud.

  “You want to take her into the coven?” Braze asked, tossing his glass into the air and watching as it vanished. He grinned at Bridget, taking a step toward her. “They thought you a mere member of the village when you first approached the coven.”

  She swatted at him, although her expression was playful. “And you know as well as I do that I wasn’t. Naomi is a mortal. She has no pow
ers. I would know by now if she did.”

  She had the power to consume his thoughts.

  Something stirred. Although not visible, he felt the stirring, knew the instant she awoke. Putting his feet on his coffee table, he crossed one leg over the other and relaxed further, staring up at the ceiling.

  Merco saw through the plaster, through the beams in the ceiling. Naomi sat up on the bed. Her confusion was mixed from grogginess. But curiosity was her strongest emotion.

  He ached for her. With every fiber in his body he wanted to be by her side right now, pulling her into his arms, allowing her to awake slowly while he held her.

  “She’s awake,” Bridget said unnecessarily.

  They all sensed it.

  “We need to talk this out,” Braze said, and waved a hand in the air. “She’ll sleep until we are done.”

  Merco didn’t like how Naomi suddenly collapsed on the bed, a victim to Braze’s simple spell to make her fall back asleep.

  “No.” He reversed the spell instantly, allowing her to wake up again. “There will be no magic placed on her.”

  He met the curious gazes of his friends. “I won’t have it,” he added.

  “How interesting.” Bridget gave him a long, hard look. She guessed he was becoming too involved with Naomi, and her emotions were clear. She didn’t like it. “Do you plan to tell her who you really are?”

  “No.” He decided he needed another drink. Holding out his hand, a glass appeared. “I don’t want her thoughts altered. Her decisions will be her own.”

  Bridget glanced at Braze. He took her hand and pulled her to him, then looked over his shoulder at Merco.

  “I believe you will care for her. We will leave you with her, then. But see here, my friend, if you do her wrong, you will have both of us to answer to.” Braze meant it, too. He would defend Naomi’s honor because she was Bridget’s friend.

  Naomi had some good friends.

  Merco nodded, knowing beyond a doubt that Naomi was safest with him. Whatever troubled her, he would find out. And he would rid her of it.