by Larissa Ione
Bright lights blinded Wraith. A swerving vehicle bore down on them, its driver apparently drunk, the vehicle’s tires bouncing off curbs.
“Serena!” Wraith caught her around the waist and threw them both into an empty vendor’s cart. Brakes and tires squealed. The compact car smashed into the truck the khnive had been hiding behind, and the creature leaped into the back of the pickup as it rolled forward, gaining momentum on the hill.
Serena tore free of Wraith’s grip, darted toward the truck, and vaulted nimbly into the back with the demon.
Unbelievable. The woman had no sense of self-preservation. Wraith chased after them, landing next to Serena as she pummeled the thing. With a curse, he darted around behind the demon, wrapped his arm around its neck, and snapped hard. It went limp, sinking to the pickup bed.
The truck hit a bump, catapulting Wraith backward. He grabbed for the roof with one hand, and for Serena with the other. Horns blared, and a busy-ass intersection loomed ahead. Shit. He dove on top of Serena, covering her as chaos exploded around them. The truck T-boned a bus, and then at least two more vehicles smashed into its rear quarter panel and the driver’s side door, spinning it wildly into other cars. The sound of metal crunching, glass shattering, and people screaming pierced the veil of smoke and steam that rose up all around them.
“You okay?” He pulled Serena to her feet. Though she looked a little dazed and had lost her cap, she smiled sheepishly.
“I’m fine.” She shook shards of glass out of her hair. “Stuff like this happens to me a lot.”
“Your dates must love you.” Sirens warbled in the distance. “Let’s get the hell out of here before people start asking questions. Or before a plane lands on you or some shit.”
Keeping hold of her hand, he leaped out of the truck and they both ran, weaving through the tangle of smashed cars and the crowd of people. She kept up easily, her strides quick and graceful, a gazelle in flight. The predator in him wanted to give chase, to take her down to the ground. The male in him wanted to ravage her while she was there.
Right now, the best he could do was keep other predators away.
They didn’t slow until they reached the hotel. He pulled her to a stop in front of the door.
“What was that thing?” Serena panted, looking back over her shoulder as though afraid it would come after them, even though it had started to disintegrate before they’d even jumped out of the truck.
“Don’t suppose you’d buy that it was a rabid dog?”
“Hardly. I know it was a demon.”
“A tracker.” He watched her closely, wondering how much she was willing to say. “What do you think it’s tracking?”
She lifted her chin and looked him straight in the eye. “No idea. But thank you for killing it. I’m glad your Aegis skills haven’t rusted.”
Well, good. He’d earned her gratitude. Tayla had told him to be nice, but maybe killing things for her would be even better. Not to mention, more in character. And more fun.
Tayla had also said human females liked polite men, so he opened the hotel door, releasing an aromatic breeze of coffee and spicy lamb coming from the restaurant. He entered behind her, and speaking of behinds… hers was nice.
“I could use a drink,” she said, gesturing toward the bar. “Want to join me for one before we talk business? You have the artifact, right?”
“It’s in my room.”
“Excellent.” She gave him a smile that made his insides quiver. Weird. No female had ever made his insides do that. His outsides, yes, but that didn’t take much.
Maybe the poison was affecting him in yet another way. Besides the libido-dampening, he’d been intermittently nauseous and dizzy, and sometimes his muscles and organs cramped as they slowly died.
Fun stuff, that mordlair necrotoxin.
“I could definitely use a whiskey.” Which didn’t affect Wraith, unless taken through the veins of a human who had imbibed. He eyed Serena’s throat. He didn’t suck human females, but he’d love to latch on to Serena’s long, slender neck and drink his fill, maybe settle between her thighs.…
“I could use a few more than a drink.”
“My kind of female.” Wraith could really like this chick if he ever allowed himself attachments, which he didn’t.
Find an excuse to touch her. Tayla had told him that. She’d said something about how he had to start small. Light, innocent touches.
He was not good at light and innocent. Pounce and pillage… that was his style.
Cursing to himself, he cocked out his arm in a foreign-feeling gentlemanly gesture to escort her. To his surprise, she hooked her dainty hand around his forearm and allowed him to walk her to the bar, where they were greeted by a middle-aged Egyptian man who wrinkled his nose at Wraith’s facial dermoire.
Wraith itched to shove the guy’s head up his ass, but he kept himself in check and ordered a double whiskey, neat.
“I’ll have what he’s having,” Serena said, and Wraith felt the slow burn of admiration creeping up on him. He’d expected her to drink something sweet and fruity.
This chick was not what he’d expected, and he wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad one.
He put his hand on her knee.
She picked it up and put it back in his lap.
Crash. And. Burn.
As though Wraith didn’t exist, Serena braced her elbows on the bar top and played with her napkin, grinning at the bartender when he set her drink down in front of her. Goddamn. The sensual glow that radiated from her when she smiled was downright unholy, and he felt an erotic surge rise up like a tide in his veins. And in his jeans.
He despised that reaction to humans. It made him feel dirty, and he ruthlessly tamped down his urges, even though those urges were what were going to win him the prize.
He’d planned to meet her, whisk her someplace private, take her, and be done with it without ever having to exchange names. He was a freaking incubus, after all. Effortless sex was what he did. No female had ever resisted him. It figured that the one he needed to not resist him would be the one he would have to work at seducing.
This situation had been poorly planned on his part, which was unacceptable. He usually spent weeks, if not months, researching his missions, his prizes, his targets. It wasn’t that he liked research, but better to know every detail than to spend too much time chasing his tail when he could be chasing some female’s tail. He liked a quick in and out. Smash and grab.
Serena was not going to be a quick in and out, though there would be some of that.
“I wouldn’t have taken you for liking the hard stuff,” he commented as the bartender slid his glass toward him.
She downed her whiskey like a shot and pushed her glass at the bartender for a refill. “Love the burn.”
Burn. Yeah. Because that’s what she was doing to him right now.
“You probably think that’s pretty unladylike, don’t you?”
He shook his head, which had begun pounding at the temples. The poison again. “I think it makes you pretty damned hot.”
“Well, aren’t you a charmer.” She frowned. “Are you okay?”
“Fine.” He hooked his foot through one of his backpack straps and tugged it closer to the leg of his stool. His meds were in there, and he wanted to keep them close. “Slight headache.”
“That thing didn’t hurt you, did it?” She put her hand on the side of his head, running her fingers through his hair. His scalp tingled and his body coiled and he hissed in a breath. She jerked her fingers away. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“It’s okay.” His voice was humiliatingly hoarse. “I have aspirin.”
She nodded at his lame response and trailed her finger along the rim of her refilled glass, circling it almost lovingly. “So, when do you head home, Josh?”
Josh. Man, he wasn’t going to survive this. Wraith downed his drink, welcoming the smoky bite and the burn, just like she did. He signaled for more whiskey.
“Whenever I feel like it. I decided to make a vacation out of this trip. One of those one hundred and one things to do before you die.”
She slammed another shot, and a railroad spike of lust hammered into his groin. “So you’ve never been here then?”
“I’ve been here.” Hundreds of times, actually. Egypt was a treasure trove of useful artifacts for Eidolon’s magic collection. “But always for work, never for… pleasure.”
“Ah. What kind of work do you do?”
Here was where he needed to play his cards right. Too much information might make her suspicious, especially if it didn’t jibe with what she’d been told about the “real” Josh. But he needed to tantalize her, reel her in with common interests.
“My brothers and I run a medical center that uses nontraditional cures to treat patients, and I’m in charge of collections.”
“Collections? As in, getting people to pay?”
“Collections, as in assembling the ingredients and mystical objects the doctors sometimes use in the cures.”
“Your medical center sounds very new age.”
“You might say that.” He leaned back on his stool and stretched his legs, letting his calves “accidentally” brush hers. Her heat shot straight to his dick. “And what brings you to Egypt? Obviously, something to do with the artifact I brought.”
Serena practically bounced in her seat. “Val didn’t tell you?”
“He just told me you needed the key. I’m guessing you’re searching for something in the catacombs?”
“Possibly.”
Wraith watched her over the rim of his glass. “So evasive,” he murmured as he put the glass down. “Why?”
“Well…” She braced her forearms on the bar top, leaned in, and lowered her voice with dramatic, conspiratorial flare. “I don’t know if I should be telling the competition what the prize is. I wouldn’t want you taking it from under me.”
Oh, he’d be taking the prize, from under her or from on top. Either would work for him. “No worries. I’m on vacation, and if I don’t get paid, I don’t do the work.” He shot her a stern look. “And why are you traipsing around Egypt by yourself? That’s dangerous, you know. As tonight should have proved.”
“Isn’t that the pot calling the kettle black?”
He shrugged. “I can take care of myself.”
“And you think I can’t?”
He grinned, enjoying playing clueless when he knew damned good and well that, thanks to her charm, she could take care of herself. “Does Val know you have demons after you?”
Her eyes flared. “They aren’t after me—”
“Bullshit. I saw how the khnive watched you. Why is that?”
“I have no idea.”
“Then I think Val should know,” he said. “He’d be pissed if he knew you were in danger.”
“You can’t tell him!”
Her panic gave him the opening he needed. “Then I have a proposal. You let me tag along on your little treasure hunt, and I’ll keep my trap shut.”
“Absolutely not.”
He took a swig of whiskey. “I guess you don’t want the key that badly.”
Angry red splotches put color in her cheeks. “That’s blackmail.”
“Yep.”
“Why?”
“I’m intrigued,” he said, and it wasn’t a lie. “It’s not often I find someone who does the same job I do. I mean, you’ve got the stuffy archaeologist types, but they do everything so slowly. So carefully.” He took her glass from her, took her fingers in his, and studied her fingernails. Short, square, strong. Not manicured, and kept in the perfect condition to be functional instead of pretty. “But you don’t do slow and careful, do you? You like the hunt. The chase. You like to jump in. Use your hands. You crave the rush. The burn.” His own adrenaline pumped through him at the mere thought of the rush of the hunt and chase, whether it be for blood, sex, or an ancient artifact.
A slow flush worked its way up from her neck to her scalp, and yeah, she was getting excited too. Aroused. He waited for her denial, but she surprised him by leaning in aggressively, mischief dancing in her chocolate eyes.
“You’re wrong about one thing,” she purred.
He angled inward so their faces were only inches apart. “And what’s that?”
“I don’t like it,” she said, her voice breathy and husky and bed-me-baby hot. “I love it.”
His eyes were riveted on her, his heart pounding hard. “Then it looks like we have even more in common than I thought.”
Taking her hand out of his, she sat back and studied him, seeming far more composed than he was. “I still don’t get why you want to do this.”
“Like I said, I’m free with my schedule. And why wouldn’t I want to hang out with someone I find so interesting? Not to mention beautiful.” Gods, he might as well be reading poetry to her, as foreign as his flattery was sounding. Foreign, but not insincere.
Something passed over her face, an emotion he couldn’t name. “Look,” she sighed, “I should warn you now that I’m not available. Romantically.”
“That’s okay. Neither am I.”
Her brows rose. “You’re married?”
“Nope.”
“Girlfriend?”
“Uh-uh.”
“Boyfriend?”
He shuddered. Any Seminus who had a thing for males would be in a lot of trouble, since they could only orgasm with a female, and if they didn’t get that release daily—several times daily—they would die.
“Not even close.”
“Then what?” She grimaced. “Or is that something I shouldn’t ask?”
“Depends. I’ll tell you why if you’ll tell me why.” He knew, but he wanted to see how she explained herself to men, wanted to get a read on how she felt about being celibate. As for his excuse, he couldn’t very well tell the truth, that his goal for the last eighty years had been to go through s’genesis so he could be as recklessly free with females as possible, with no ties he cared about and no worries other than where he was going to find his next fuck.
That hadn’t turned out so well.
He just prayed that this turned out better.
Chapter 6
The bartender made himself scarce in that way they instinctively did when customers sank deep into conversation. Serena sat there in silence, wondering how much she should tell Josh. She had, after all, asked him to explain the rationale behind his romantic unavailability, so it was only fair that she should share her own motives. But she’d always kept the virgin thing to herself, figuring it was nobody’s business but hers.
Guys who knew she was a virgin either viewed her as a challenge or they figured she was nothing but a tease, and they had a tendency to get real pissy.
Only once had she let herself believe she could have a workable relationship, had thought she could handle intimacy without intercourse. That had been a disaster.
Matthew had been a senior in college and working part time for Val while finishing up his archaeology degree. They’d grown close over months of working together, and she’d insisted that they could have a romantic relationship without sex. For a while, they’d done well, a normal couple who went to dinner and picnics, movies and hikes in the woods. They held hands, hugged. Kissed
But eventually, she’d wanted more. The touching turned to hot groping sessions in which they both gave as good as they got, but something had been missing, and one night after a Christmas party when they’d both been drunk, she’d nearly given in to the desire to make love.
It had been a wake-up call for her, especially when he’d started talking marriage. How was she supposed to explain the fact that even after marriage she’d have to remain celibate?
“Serena? You don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want to.”
Josh swirled the whiskey in his glass, and she shook herself out of the past, which was one of the most unpleasant places she could be.
“Right. No, um… it’s okay. I just fee
l sort of silly telling people this.”
“Telling people what?”
“I’m celibate,” she blurted.
There. She’d said it. She tossed back her drink.
“And?”
“You’re not going to ask why?”
“Does it matter? I said I wanted to join you in your treasure hunt. Not get into your pants.” He winked. “Though I won’t lie and say that I won’t fantasize about it.”
The idea that he might have her naked in his head made her wildly hot. But that didn’t change the fact that his mind was the only place he could see her naked. “Why should I believe that you’re on the up-and-up?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” he asked, and she must have been wearing her skeptical face, because he snorted. “Hey, if I was on the hunt for a piece of ass, I’d be prowling some loud, obnoxious bar in Rome, not strolling around Alexandria, Egypt. Right?”
She blinked at his candor. “I suppose.”
“So, you’ll let me tag along?”
He stared at her with his piercing blue eyes, the light of victory already dancing in them. He thought her acceptance was a given, and God, it was tempting. Especially if he was serious about ratting her out to Val. But she wasn’t one to cave in to blackmail or smooth lines no matter how drop-dead gorgeous a guy was.
“I don’t think so,” she said. “I work better by myself.”
The utter shock on his face nearly made her laugh. He was a man not used to rejection, and he had to be smarting.
She glanced at her watch, felt a stirring of disappointment that it was so late, because between the demon, the multi-vehicle pileup, and the banter with Josh, tonight had been rather enjoyable. “I should be going. I have an early morning ahead of me.”
“At least let me try to convince you on the way to your room.” He pushed smoothly to his feet, a panther uncoiling from rest. He held out a hand, and for a ridiculously long moment, she hesitated.
“You’re very serious about wanting to go with me, aren’t you?” She finally took his hand and allowed him to help her to her feet.
He looked at her, the intensity in his expression so overwhelming that she took a step back, but he tightened his grip and brought her against his hard body. “When I say I’m going to do something, I do it.” His thumb skimmed over her fingers in lazy strokes, making her breath hitch, making her hyperaware of the contact between them. “And when I want something, I get it.”
