by Michele Hauf
“I freaked out. I didn’t know what to do. So I took her home. Waiting for her was her entire denizen. They were oddly pleased to see me, and didn’t give Octavia much attention. And...they were wearing protective armor. It didn’t occur to me until later what it would protect them from. They moved in on me swiftly. While I was stricken by what I had done to her, I learned that she had been toying with me. A demon trying to lure a vampire into the denizen so they could have their way with me. But she had no idea what the rest of her denizen knew—that I was part faery.
“What happened next I could have never anticipated.”
He spread his fingers over Zen’s hand, clasping it tightly against his chest. Heartbeats raced and his skin was clammy. An inhale; gasped breath. Difficult not to fall back into that feeling of danger even though he knew it was long past.
“They tortured me. I don’t know how long. Days? Weeks? Felt like forever. And that armor I’d wondered over? It protected the demons from my ichor-tainted blood. All the while, the leader kept bringing Octavia out to show me that she was slowly dying. That hurt me more than any talon to my heart could have. The denizen could have saved her. Could have used demonic magic to force the faery taint from her system, or even witch magic, but they didn’t. They let her suffer. And I couldn’t do anything to help her because at times I was stretched out on a rack being clawed and beaten and burned.”
Zen shivered against him.
“At other times I was free to fend off the dozens of monsters who came at me tearing at my skin and muscles and digging their talons in deep.”
She spread a hand over his back. “These are from that torture.”
He nodded. “The scars mean nothing. What haunts me is that I couldn’t help her. That she was a sacrifice merely for the denizen’s twisted penchant for torturing others. No woman should be treated that way. Just left to die. And she wouldn’t have died had I not bitten her. She received a small amount of faery taint, which was why it took her so long to die. It was my fault. And, Zen...” He breathed in deeply. “I loved her.”
She hugged him so tightly he felt her heartbeats match the pace of his own. Rib to rib, skin to skin. Pulse to pulse. It was too wondrous. Did he deserve this woman?
“I’m sorry, Blade. You shouldn’t have had to face that. But if she was lying to you...”
“Yes, she was tricking me, toying with me. It hurts my heart to admit that. But still, it was no reason to allow her to die.”
“You’re right. You are an honorable man. You wouldn’t wish pain on anyone.”
Yes, well. She did not know he wanted to slay all the demons now. And the more painful their demise the better.
She hugged him and just let him be still. The silence did not feel heavy or awkward. His breathing was calm yet his heartbeats ran. He’d just revealed a part of himself he had kept locked and sealed. That he had trusted her enough to reveal that was immense. She would honor his trust.
“What can I do?” she asked. “To make this easier for you to bear?”
“Just listening is good. I...don’t normally do this. Spill my guts. But I thought you should know. She was demon, Zen. And with us being uncertain what, exactly, you are...”
“I understand. You don’t want to make the leap to complete trust with me. You can’t. I respect that.”
“I trust you. I just don’t know what you are. And...you should also know I made a deal with a stranger to kill the demons in the area.”
“What?”
“He came to me in the Darkwood not long before I met you. Said the demons are rising, increasing their numbers. He asked me to annihilate them. At first I refused. But after slaying the demons who would have gone after you, I agreed to help. Innocent humans could be harmed. They all need to die, Zen.”
She pulled away and turned to sit facing him. She ran a shaky hand over her hair. “I, uh, don’t know what to say to that.”
“I’m sorry.”
And if she was a demon? His declaration that all demons needed to die went against his conviction to save the one demon who had tricked him into the torture into the first place.
If he had saved her, then how could he conceive of slaying so many others?
“I don’t feel as if I am demon,” Zen felt it necessary to state. “But then, I don’t feel as if I am anything in particular.” She spied the bowie knife lying on the floor beside Blade’s combat boots and lunged to grab it. “Cut me,” she said, handing him the blade. “I want to check again.”
He took the knife and she held out her palm to him. “Don’t worry. I’ll heal.”
Without a word, he drew the knife tip across her skin. Black blood bubbled up, then spilled in clear, glinting streams down the side of her hand before hitting the black bed sheet.
“No more blue,” she said in awe.
“But still black,” he offered.
“But then it turned clear. That’s ichor, isn’t it?”
He nodded. “It could be anything.”
“Becoming.” She whispered the word the witch had used. “What do you think I will become?”
He clasped her hand and kissed the back of it. “My ally,” he said.
“Not in the fight against demons. I don’t think... I don’t want to be a part of that destruction. But I can stand by your side.”
“How about you simply be my friend?”
“Really? You’re willing to let me be a friend?”
“Actually, I think we’ve gone beyond that. What with the sex.”
She glided a hand down his back. “You are an amazing lover, Blade. And to be honest, I think that was my first time.”
He tilted a look at her. “Could have been. No regrets?”
“Never. I’d love to do it again. Anytime you’re willing.”
“Is that so?”
She nodded.
Blade twisted and pushed her back against the pillows. “How about a good-morning shag?”
“Does shag mean sex?”
“It does.”
“I’m in.”
Chapter 18
Zen got out of the shower first and called out that she was going to make breakfast for him today. Or maybe she’d said she was going to get the things ready for him to make breakfast. Blade wasn’t sure she had the talent for cooking. Did she remember how? Had she ever cooked?
He turned off the shower. Probably better not to linger in case she did attempt to master the stove. Grabbing a towel, he patted his hair and stepped onto the tiled floor.
Immense relief had relaxed his very being after telling Zen his history with demons. With one demon in particular. He could never forgive himself for biting Octavia. He blamed his vampire for the bite and he blamed his faery for delivering the deadly poison. But really? He was responsible for himself, all of himself. That included vampire and faery. And if one got out of line, it was his responsibility to kick it back in line.
Thing was, the vampire was so strong. Yet it was his faery that craved the demon blood. He had to keep his winged desires in check. That was easy enough. He wasn’t sure he’d ever fall so deeply again that he’d feel compelled to mate with a woman and bite her. And until Zen knew what she was he could have sex with her, befriend her—hell, he could even fall in love. But that didn’t have to mean forever.
Fall in love? No. He’d meant it when he’d offered his brother condolences after he’d admitted to being in love with his wife. Love was...tough.
But since when had he resisted a challenge?
Smirking and shaking his head, he finished drying off. In the bedroom he slipped on jeans. Raking his fingers through his hair was sufficient. From the smell that wafted in from the kitchen something was up.
A cloud of smoke hung over the stove. Blade hustled by a fleeing Oogie and commandeered the spatula from Zen.
“Sorry,” she said. “I didn’t think eggs could burn.”
“It’s okay. I can rescue them. Why don’t you get the juice and toast on the table?”
“How did you become such a master chef?” she asked as she plopped two pieces of bread into the toaster. She wore one of his longer T-shirts and nothing else. The neckline spilled over one shoulder, attracting his eye. And his kiss. She met his gaze after that kiss and he winked at her.
“Cooking breakfast hardly qualifies me as a master. My mom used to let us help her in the kitchen when we were little. We all picked up a talent. I think by the time we were in our teens Mom had trained us so well we could cook the entire day’s meals and she didn’t have to lift a finger.”
“Smart mom. You said she is faery?”
“Yes, and so is my brother Kelyn.”
“When you shifted last night behind the theater, besides the obvious wings, your body changed subtly.”
“That was my faery shape. Same me, just...bulkier.”
“That’s interesting. I would expect a faery to be slender and, well, fae.”
“They come in all shape and sizes. Just like humans.”
She hugged him around the waist and kissed his biceps. He didn’t mind the closeness. She liked closeness. He could live with that. And she smelled so good, despite the lingering burn scent. Freshly showered and like a spring blossom.
“Can you bring your wings out without shifting?” she asked.
“I can, but rarely do.”
“Because it’s a sex thing?”
He chuckled. “You really like sex, don’t you?”
“I don’t understand why anyone wouldn’t like it. Anything wrong with wanting to learn all I can about it?” she asked playfully as her fingers slipped beneath his “Do you want to eat or have sex?”
Her bright eyes flashed up at him. “Do you really have to ask?”
He turned off the burner, setting the eggs, which were a lost cause, aside. He swung around, catching Zen at the waist and set her down on the counter beside the sink. She pulled off the T-shirt, rendering her naked, and he kissed her breasts.
“Mmm, that’s one of my favorites,” she said. “You can do that as much as you like.” She wrapped her legs about his bare torso.
“Is it always this awesome when people have sex?” she asked, gliding her fingers down his wet hair. “Why aren’t people constantly doing this? I mean, who has time to eat or sleep when you can kiss and touch and, oh...I like that.”
He suckled her nipple and teased at the skin with the tip of his fang. It was a brief glide of tooth over flesh, nothing promising, because he couldn’t promise the bite. Much as he desired it. Her blood had been black and ichor laced last night. But there was no guarantee some angel blood did not linger.
“I’ll show you what I’d prefer over eggs for breakfast,” he whispered in her ear, then glided down to part her legs and kiss her copper thatch.
Zen chirped a surprised sound, then settled into the feeling. She lay back across the counter and allowed him to put her legs over his shoulders. Eventually her head tilted into the sink, so he moved her down onto the floor.
Half an hour later, he picked her up from the floor and carried her into the bedroom so they could finally get dressed.
“Why don’t I give you a ride into town,” he suggested. “You can pick up your car and pay off the room bill.”
“Why? Don’t I need the room anymore?”
He shrugged. “If you want to, you can stay here for a while. I’ll have a talk with Oogie. Let him know you’re cool.”
“I’d like that. I can do some more shopping while in town, as well. I really enjoy shopping.”
“I’ll drop you off, then we’ll meet later at Panera for the breakfast we ignored earlier. Deal?”
“Deal.”
* * *
After he’d dropped Zen off at the inn, Blade drove into the filling station and topped off the gas tank. Then he stopped in at the local hardware store. Stryke had emailed a list of tools for him to pick up. Though they had hired a construction firm to build the compound, Stryke was also working on a porch for the main house. Said Blyss liked to sit out there on a swinging bench in the summer. And he wanted a place for the baby to play without toddling too far into the yard.
Stryke would probably be an overprotective father. Blade thought it would be wiser to let the infant run. Unless Stryke carried some latent faery or vampire in him, his child would be born werewolf. Its instincts would be to run free.
But what did he know about child rearing?
Blade wondered if a half-breed man could ever have a child with a woman of unknown nature. Then he caught himself and shook his head at such erratic thoughts. Children were not for him. He could barely get the love thing right.
Hadn’t he fallen in love too quickly with the demoness Octavia? He didn’t want to analyze it. He’d spent far too much time lamenting that decision in the days and weeks following her death.
Right now, he felt as though life nudged him to move forward. To set his past aside, and—though it could never be forgotten—forge a new future. The feeling was light, and as soon as he recognized it, he again shook his head.
Not in the cards for this unforgivable bastard.
Especially an unforgivable bastard who was currently on a crusade to assassinate every living demon he laid eyes on—as well as the undead ones. Yeah, there were breeds that were classified as undead.
Strolling past a coffee shop, he paused. The rich scent of dark roast curled into his nostrils and drew him in. He ordered a venti black, no cream, and then headed around the corner, down the alleyway. He had parked three blocks down from the hardware store. The town was small, which meant little to no parking, and it was Blade’s habit to choose an out-of-the-way spot. One never knew when a demon—or angel—might leap out from nowhere. Best to contain any encounters and keep them from public eyesight as much as possible.
Striding through a shadow cast by a church steeple—he wasn’t baptized, so holy objects and images had no power over him—Blade was suddenly ripped from his strides. His back slammed against a brick wall. Coffee splattered the concrete.
He reacted by swinging a punch toward the blond man’s narrow face, but his fist stopped an inch from nose. Impact did not happen, and yet his knuckles crunched as if he’d just punched a steel wall.
The man dropped him and stepped back. Splaying his fingers up near his face revealed the dark markings on his skin. “Runes to ward me against whatever the hell you are, hic niger est.”
“Who are you?” Blade asked of the creature who’d said he had a dark heart.
“Ah? You don’t care what I am?”
“You’re demon.” Blade spat at the ground near the man’s booted feet. He was as tall as he but slim, and his short blond hair was slicked back tightly against his scalp, the severe coif revealing the nubs of horns above each ear. “You’ve got two seconds before I kill you.”
“Give it a go. Unlike the other demons you’ve slain thus far, I have come to this realm protected.”
Blade afforded a more studied look over the runes marked in crossed black lines all over the demon’s fingers, hands and neck. Below his ears ran a trail of the marks, as well. The demon’s eyes flickered red, then resumed a fathomless black iris.
The demon offered his hand to shake. “Kesabel, Lord of the Casipheans. And you are Blade Saint-Pierre.”
“What do you want?” Blade asked, ignoring the offer to shake.
Again the demon gripped him by the throat and slammed him to the wall. Blade’s feet momentarily left the ground. He aimed a fist for the demon’s gut but his knuckles crunched against an invisible steel barrier.
“Quit killing us,” the demon hissed. “We are not the bad guys.”
“Yeah? Then, why are you trying to kill Zen?”
“Is that what she told you?”
“She didn’t have to tell me anything. I saw the trio you sent after her.”
“They were sent to persuade her toward the portal. For some reason she has been able to resist our efforts. A major fuckup in the plan, let me tell you.”
“Wha
t plan? To murder an innocent woman?”
The demon dropped Blade’s throat. “We’re on her side.” Spreading out his arms, he declared royally, “She is our queen.”
Chapter 19
Blade considered asking the demon to repeat himself. But there was no need. His hearing was excellent.
Zen was their queen? Whose queen? If she was any kind of paranormal breed, she was an angel. Though, there was the case of her blue blood turning black. Which was no longer blue but now black and then clear.
“Yes, I can see your confusion,” the demon Kesabel offered. He stabbed the air. “Allow me to explain how the fallen angel you’ve hooked up with was supposed to fall all the way to Daemonia, yet, for some reason, did not.”
“You’re lying.”
The demon spread his arms out. “I have no reason to.”
“It is the demonic nature to speak mistruths. Always. You are trying to get me on your side so you can get your hands on Zen.”
“I do want to get my hands on her, but I need her alive. The Casiphean queen must be crowned, and that can only occur in Daemonia.”
“Casiphean?” Blade had heard the breed name, but that was all. He’d spent more time lamenting his involvement with the mimicus to bother learning about any other in the vast profusion of demonic breeds.
Kesabel nodded. “You don’t know much about demons, do you?”
“I know I don’t like you.”
“Yes, well, I am familiar with your troubles regarding a denizen of mimicus. Tough bit of luck, eh?”
The scars on Blade’s back twinged. “You could say that.”
“And now it seems you’ve a death wish for all our species.”
“You could say that, too.”
“Isn’t really fair, is it? To make all suffer for the sins of so few?”
The demon had no right to place himself above others when it concerned sin. “I thought we were talking about Zen. She is a fallen angel. I’m sure of it. She has her halo.”
“Yes, you’ve guessed correctly about her. Fallen from Above. Yet she was supposed to fall to Daemonia. Why she stopped here on the mortal realm is beyond me. It was destined that she would become our queen. She should have been on board with the plan before falling. All she had to do was—” the demon spread out his arms “—spread her wings and let gravity do the rest.”
