Games Demons Play (Mystic Isle, Book 3)

by Selena Blake

Shade sat down on the edge of the bed and handed her a silver goblet. “House cocktail.”

  Burgundy and blood. A perfect combination.

  She took a long sip and sighed. “It is good.” She watched him over the top of the glass. His brows lifted as he digested her words. “I know something that tastes even better.” She leaned back and placed the goblet on the night table.

  “Yeah?”

  Her lips curved up. How she loved his deep, soft voice. Come to think of it, she had never heard a sexier voice in her twenty-two — make that twenty-four, years. Was that why he soothed her so easily? The almost soft, barely gentle sound was hypnotic.

  Alluring.

  “Yes.”

  She slid a hand through the gap in his shirt and smoothed her palm across the warm, taut skin.

  “You are warm. So warm.”

  He closed his eyes. She couldn’t stop looking at his thick dark lashes. Men had all the luck. No period and beautiful, natural lashes.

  He smelled good too.

  Closing those last few inches, she brushed her lips over his skin, soaking in his heat. She kissed and nipped her way up his chest. At the tender spot between neck and collarbone, she licked his skin. His hand tightened around her waist, kneading her flesh, urging her against him.

  Slowly, carefully, she grazed his skin with her teeth. He groaned.

  “And you’re like ice.”

  “Then you will have to heat me up. Yes?”

  Tucking her hand beneath the collar of his shirt, she ran the tip of her tongue up and down his jugular.

  “Izzy…” he whispered. The ragged edge to his voice gave him away as nothing else could.

  She smiled against his throat. He was not as stoic as she’d thought. After nuzzling his throat once more, she sank her fangs into his flesh and was rewarded by a moan. Sweet, hot blood dribbled over her tongue.

  Just as delicious as last time. When had that been exactly? Both a lifetime and just a moment ago, it seemed.

  The arm he had braced against the bed curled around her waist, holding her to him. His other palm curved around the base of her skull. Moaning, she closed her eyes and created a memory. His scent. His taste. His warmth. The feel of being wrapped up in him… perfection. She could think of a lot worse people to be trapped with. Tangled up in.

  Just like the last time, his blood gave her an immediate boost. She’d never experienced such an exquisite high. The energy. The strength. She felt weightless, powerful. But mostly, grateful.

  He was right. He was taking care of her, again, and it was becoming an addictive habit. Wrapping her arms around his shoulders, she continued to feed. Slowly. Savoring each sip.

  It would not be so bad. Staying here with him forever. Feeding from him. Soaking in his warmth. There were worse habits. Worse men.

  But she could not take too much. Valencia and the others had emphasized that point more than any other. So she licked the wounds closed and pulled back a fraction.

  Why was she breathing so hard? Her lungs felt like she had just power-walked around the entire hotel.

  Slowly, he let her go, his hands falling away. She immediately missed his touch. He straightened, half turning away from her. Though he didn’t say a word she could tell there was something on his mind.

  Did he know about her dream? She licked her lips and let her hands drop from his shoulders. Her left hand paused on his biceps and her right hovered over his heart. His heat warmed her fingertips and the steady thump-thump-thump brought a smile to her lips. If she was not mistaken, he’d enjoyed her taking his blood.

  Silently, she examined him. Strong jaw. Long black hair. Beautiful silver-gray eyes. Wide kissable mouth. She loved to see him smile.

  The thought came from nowhere but she recognized the truth of it. He was handsome. Like a rogue or a bad boy or even a modern-day pirate. That was what she had been unable to put her finger on at their first meeting. Never had she met a man who looked so… untamable. And yet he was so gentle with her. Her mind couldn’t reconcile it.

  He pegged her with a hard gaze. “Promise me… when you get hungry, you’ll feed. Order a cocktail if you need to. Put it on my tab. Grab your chips and come find me. Just drink.”

  His words were arrows, popping the word balloons in her brain. “My chips.” She scrambled to her knees, her gaze sweeping the room.

  The demon caught her around her waist and settled her onto his lap. She had to find them. That was her ticket into the tournament and she did not have enough.

  “Izzy.” He clasped her chin in his right hand and held her immobile. Her heart thundered in her ribs. She never should have taken V’s car out of the garage.

  “Izzy… shh… I had them put your winnings in the vault. It’s safe, mausi.”

  Had he just called her a mouse?

  “Your money is safe,” he assured her.

  She saw the calm, steady truth in his eyes and relaxed a fraction. Safe. Thank God. Relief made her melt against him. She was so tired. Physically exhausted and mentally tired. How did she always manage to get herself into such messes? Her mother said she led with her heart. Which was true. Even when she tried not to.

  But right now she felt safe. Was she still leading with her heart where he was concerned? In Shade’s arms, she felt like the past did not matter and the future would take care of itself. Why was that? Was it him; his strength feeding her? Or his blood…

  “You did good tonight,” he murmured, resting his chin against the top of her head.

  She let out a long sigh, one that had been building for hours. “Not good enough. I’m still short.”

  “Hey now, no short jokes, my little mausi.”

  She laughed, despite her frustration.

  “I do not have enough to enter the tournament. And I am tired.” She rolled her shoulders.

  “So you’ll rest. And shower. And then you’ll be refreshed and ready to face the world.”

  That sounded like a brilliant plan.

  She lifted her head from his shoulder and stared up at him. “Why are you being so nice?” And more importantly, why wasn’t she running away from the intimacy? Her two previous relationships had ended in a broken heart and near death. She sure knew how to pick men… Which was what worried her. Right now he might seem nice, but the shoe may not fit tomorrow.

  “Didn’t we already cover this?”

  “Yes.” She scooted to the middle of the bed and leaned against the padded leather headboard. “But I have not met anyone so… generous.” Except, perhaps Valencia. And Coco. “So ungreedy.”

  “And you are worried I’ll turn into an ogre?”

  She nodded.

  He gave her a grin that sent her heart racing. She heard his shoes fall to the floor and then he settled himself next to her. The mattress gave and she rolled toward him until their shoulders bumped.

  “I’m already a demon, but not the kind you’re imagining. And I’m plenty greedy, mausi. You just don’t know me well enough yet.”

  Yet? She liked the sound of that. “Greedy men do not take care of others and wish nothing for return.” She should know. She’d been surrounded by greedy men as a child.

  His smile disappeared. “How do you know I want nothing in return?”

  She stared up at him, searched his eyes for the truth. “I do not. What do you want in return?”

  The corners of his oh-so-kissable mouth turned up. “Nothing.”

  She knocked her shoulder against his. “Thank you. For stopping when I wrecked. And taking me in from the sun. And feeding me.”

  “You’re most welcome, Isadora.”

  “I like the way my name sounds when you say it. I think it is your accent.”

  “My accent? What about yours. With your eets and theeses and those Ls.” He reached over and laced his fingers with hers. She snuggled against him and soaked him in. This was nice. It had been almost three years since she’d snuggled with a man, but it felt so much longer.

  “So tell me about you. Why is the
re no Mrs. Shade?”

  “Why is there no Mr. Izzy?”

  She huffed out a breath. “You evade the question. Okay. How did you meet Pierre?”

  Shade wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her against his side. She felt small, feminine and protected, which was a far cry from how she’d felt with her last — well, Shade wasn’t her boyfriend.

  “I saved his life, a long time ago. He’s been with me since. He thinks he owes me.”

  “We both do.”

  “No you don’t,” he said quickly. “I didn’t save him because I expected anything from him. I did it because it was the right thing to do.”

  “You like him.” She could hear it in his voice. There was a trace of befuddlement and friendship.

  “He’s fun to have around. Someone to talk to, and I like to keep him on his toes.”

  She frowned. “What do you mean?”

  He stretched out, pulling her down with him. She pressed a palm against his chest and rested her cheek against his shoulder. He covered her hand with his, warming her. “It’s the demon in me. I love a good joke.”

  “Knock-knock jokes?”

  “I hid all the salt and pepper shakers in the back of my closet. He spent a week tracking those down. That wasn’t one of my more brilliant ideas. My food was horrid that week.” He made a face. “One time, I turned every painting upside down. Took him half a day to fix them.” He chuckled and the sound rumbled in his chest.

  She swatted his stomach but he only laughed harder. “You are mean to an old man.”

  “Like I said, it keeps him on his toes. How boring would life be if there was not spice, eh?”

  Spice. Was that what made her do silly, unplanned things? Was she looking for spice?

  “Do you not play games on your friends? Family?” he asked.

  “No. My family was not the game type.” Perhaps if they had been, she would not have gotten into trouble or been so susceptible to other’s idea of fun. “My father was a wealthy man. Important. We took family vacations once per year. But we did not play.”

  “Where did you go?”

  “To the beach. Skiing. Wherever he could fit in a meeting.”

  “Working vacations.”

  She nodded. “My favorite trip was to Italy. My father’s meeting canceled and mother talked him into a boat ride. With the big—wing.” She drew the shape in the air with her finger.

  “Sailboat?”

  “Yes. I still remember the big, floppy hat she wore. She chased me around the whole week, squirting sun-lotion on me. I burned easily. I still do.”

  “Sounds like a good vacation.”

  “It was.” She nestled against him. “I miss that feeling.”

  She wanted to bite the words back, trying to sit up but he held her to him. Such strong arms, to escape she’d need to use force. But—

  “What feeling?”

  She pursed her lips. But he eyed her solemnly. She caved.

  “Being cared for.”

  “What about your coven mates? I’m sure they take care of you.”

  “Yes,” she said; her gaze far off. “But not the way you do.”

  “I like taking care of you.”

  “And I like being cared for.”

  Craning her neck, she met his gaze. Back and forth, they stared at each other. Silent. Immobile. Slowly, she dropped her gaze to his lips, parted the slightest bit. Her chest rose and fell with the steady rhythm of her breathing but she was aware of each life-giving breath. Acutely aware of how close they were, of the fact that they were sharing the same air. The same space.

  The intimacy kicked up another notch when he whispered her name again. The delicious sound unraveled her reserve.

  She rolled toward him; lay half sprawled across his torso. Just a kiss. A quick brush of the lips. Just to know what it felt like. Awake this time. Completely awake with all her senses firing.

  He cocked his head to the side as if gauging the situation. But then he lifted his head, obviously feeling the same incredible pull, and paused, a hair’s width away.

  “Tell me to stop,” he whispered.

  Chapter Eight

  Stop?

  Izzy tightened her grip on the collar of his shirt, feeling completely unbalanced. After she’d settled into the life of a vampire, she’d forced herself to meet a man and end up in his bed. Facing the fear had been the best medicine and the handsome vampire had helped erase some of the pain. After that, sex had been fun and recreational.

  This felt like something more. Like she could forget to keep her heart locked away. Like he could make her want more than a night or two.

  Her body’s reaction to him was off the charts… sensitive, hyperaware, and wet. Very wet.

  It was a good thing he tightened his grip on her because she was quickly becoming a melty pile of vamp. While she normally didn’t mind if a man could make her forget time and place, longed for it even, something told her to keep her wits about her. Shade wasn’t her average lover. And she needed to be on top of her game for the tournament.

  But knowing what was best and being able to tell him to stop were two very different things. She didn’t want to stop. Not one little bit.

  His grip loosened on her chin and slid down her jaw. Fingers spearing into her hair, he trailed his thumb over her cheek. Her breathing became shallow and slow.

  “Izzy…”

  She licked her lips and he groaned. If she was smart she would back away from him now. He was a complication she did not have time for. But oh, how she wanted to make the time. Needed to feel the urgency in his kiss.

  For the first time she understood what Coco had meant when she expressed how drawn to Grayson she was. How much she’d needed to see where things went. How complete he made her feel.

  Unlike Coco and Grayson, who met a century ago on a battlefield, she’d known Shade a day or two. But that did not alter how drawn to him she was. And she had never felt this way with anyone else, demon, vamp, or human.

  She’d closed her eyes and shook her head, unable to say the word he wanted to hear. She did not want to stop. Not now.

  Shade couldn’t stop thinking that she didn’t know what she was getting herself into. And he felt guilty for getting her hopes up. Guilty and… pleased that as long as she was here for the tournament, he could have her to himself. Luc was right. He was a bastard.

  She was so small in his arms. Petite and feminine, her curves fitting against him like cheese melted over a hamburger. And cold. He relished that. Again he found himself thinking that she was the perfect foil for him. Small to his large. Cold to his hot. Sweet to his savory.

  Tell me to stop, sweetheart. Just say the word. Give me the strength I can’t find on my own.

  But she didn’t utter a word. Didn’t do anything more than breathe. Shade groaned. She was sexy even as she sucked air into her lungs. Perhaps that was the problem. Maybe she was stealing every last bit of the oxygen from the room. That would explain his lack of backbone. The crazy, overwhelming desire for her. The fact that he was entertaining thoughts of chaining her to this bed until she agreed to spend eternity with him.

  She was so unlike any woman he’d ever met. Not unnecessarily glamorous, but beautiful just the same. A perfect combination of fire and ice, sweet and sassy, loud and quiet, strong and soft. Sure. She was impulsive. Young. And she didn’t think everything through. But that was part of her charm.

  In that moment, he wondered if the novelty would ever wear off. What if it did? More importantly, what if it didn’t?

  The anticipation between them was as thick as molasses. He switched their positions, rolling her onto her back. She was like a drug and he couldn’t say no. Couldn’t pull away.

  So tempting. She stared up at him with those beautiful pale aqua eyes, expectant. He brushed his lips across hers ever so lightly.

  She didn’t move. Didn’t even breathe.

  He leaned in again to deepen the kiss, heard her suck in a breath, felt her tighten her gri
p on his shirt.

  A bell rang softly through the suite but the unexpected sound made the woman beneath him tense. He kissed her forehead and rolled away. “It’s all right, engel, I ordered you another cocktail.”

  He gave her a reassuring smile and then rose to his full height. Straightening his clothes, he strode out of the room and crossed to the foyer of the suite. A butler stood there, a silver tray in his hand. Another silver goblet sat dead center. Shade thanked him and took the glass.

  “Here you go —” the words died on his lips when he found the bedroom empty.

  “Shade?”

  He closed his eyes, relief filling him.

  Until that moment he hadn’t realized just how much he wanted her to fall for his plan. To stay with him. But the way his heart jump-started said it all.

  “I am in the tub.”

  Shade paused, the image of her body, naked and covered in bubbles so vivid he might as well have been staring at her. He shook his head but the image didn’t go away.

  After clearing his throat he stepped to the bathroom door. “Your cocktail is here.”

  “Would you bring it to me? Please?”

  Gods help him. If he walked into that bathroom… she would be naked. And the only thing separating them was a door. A wooden door, at that.

  His temperature rose a few degrees. Damn. At this rate, he’d need a cocktail of his own.

  Why was he hesitating? This was exactly what he wanted, after all.

  Just take her the damn drink.

  Easier thought than done.

  Stepping foot in that room meant seeing her in the tub. Covered in water and possibly bubbles. Naked. And he already had enough trouble controlling his impulses where she was concerned. He didn’t want a quick romp with her.

  “Shade?”

  He blew out a sigh. Hadn’t this all been part of the plan? So why did he feel so hot under the collar? So unsure of himself? How did he turn one kiss into forever?

  “Coming.”

  He pushed open the door. The room was dark but light from the lamp in the bedroom filtered in. She’d closed the shutters, blocking out the rising sun’s harmful rays.

  She splashed the water and he heard half a dozen droplets fall. He’d held out hope that she was still fully clothed, preparing for her bath. But his gaze fell upon the trail of clothing, like breadcrumbs, leading him to the edge of the tub.