by Deanna Chase
Demon won out.
Gently, I sifted my fingers through Luc’s shoulder length blond hair, massaging his head with circular strokes until the tension eased from his body.
I should be scared, but I sensed his fear of hurting me again would help keep him in check this time around.
“Luc,” I whispered, “kiss me.”
He groaned, still not looking at me. “How can you ask me that? How can you still trust me after what I just did?”
I didn’t stop the massage, which seemed to help, because he shifted, looked at me with that familiar blue gaze. There was such need, such emotion. I wasn’t used to this, Luc was steadfast, his emotions never betraying how he truly felt. Frost bitten, I liked to call him.
He moved, wrapping his arms around my shoulders and holding me as close as could be without slipping into my skin. And yes, the act is possible given proper conditions.
“You were hurt...and I lost my head.” He shuddered.
You might think it’s crazy, but Luc and I have never had a heart to heart. We were sexual partners, and we’d risked our bodies for the other on more than one occasion, but we never shared.
Well, let me rephrase that.
He’d never shared.
I had tried once, many years ago. He’d stopped me, told me that talk like that could get a neph killed. I had to bury it, speak of it to one, not even to the night’s breeze. Everything had ears, danger was everywhere. This was a dog eat dog world, show any weakness and your enemy could, and would, exploit it. I hadn’t listened, and paid the price.
He didn’t seem to want to say more, and honestly, I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear more. All I wanted from Luc in this moment was his body pressed to mine.
I ran my finger up his spine, beginning to feel more myself with each minute that ticked past. And as the pain slipped away desire began to slowly take its place.
The feel of him pressed against my thigh made me more wet. He wasn’t as hard as he’d been since we started talking, a problem I rectified immediately. I shifted, my knee grazing that piece of velvet.
He groaned and I smiled.
I grabbed his face, turning him to me and nipped his chin.
His nostrils flared and his body stirred.
Luc grabbed my breasts, giving the nipples a tight squeeze. “Are you sure?” Desire was riding him but so was that thread of uncertainty.
I wrapped my legs around his waist, opening myself, forcing his solid thickness against my wet core and pressed into him. He hissed. “Answer enough?”
With a possessive growl, he slipped inside, pumping up and down. Moving in long, sure strokes.
I gasped. I could feel the magick of our joining run like a heady intoxicant through my veins. It was fire and ice. It burned, but it felt so good. He sat up, still joined to me but freeing his hands.
I got my first good look at his chest and cried out at the angry lacerations of his shredded flesh.
“Oh, Luc,” I whispered, the apology heavy on my tongue.
He reached between our bodies, his thumb finding my center and he rubbed it while still keeping the pounding rhythm of sweat-slicked skin slapping skin.
I forget everything but the pleasure of his touch after that. I closed my eyes and pumped him harder. My head thrashed from side to side as the climax built. Blood rushed through my heart, chest, head until I felt that I’d burst from it.
My own power rushed back. It filled me, kissed my temple, my shoulder. The skin grew warm and it felt like gentle fingers piecing me back together.
“Open your eyes, Pandora.” Luc’s voice was strong, but not savage. He was himself.
I opened my eyes and watched him watching me. There was something erotic and very intimate about that. About seeing a man’s body flex and pump against you.
Then it came. That blinding, ripping orgasm that steals all the breath from your lungs so that all you can do is scream into the black void of nothingness and hope you can find your way back to sanity.
After several seconds of labored breathing, I opened my eyes and returned his smile. The cuts on his chest were gone. I touched my shoulder and it was smooth, perfect again.
Luc stared at me for a second. It was thoughtful, full of hidden meaning. He traced the curve of my jaw. Then he blinked and his eyes were again shuttered, impersonal, distant.
He stood. “Let me go clean myself. I’ll be back and then we’ll talk.”
I watched him walk from my room. His exquisite rear flexing with each step and I bit my lip. My body was sated, I wasn’t horny. But when a man’s that easy on the eyes it’s a shame not to appreciate it.
I rolled over, feeling like a contented kitten and grinned, stretching lazily before I too got up to walk into the bathroom and freshen up. I opened my dresser drawer, got out the first underwear I found—a black and purple see through thong—and slipped it on.
What girl doesn’t like a piece of dental floss riding her cheeks, right? My one fatal flaw was that I never bought clothing for comfort.
There are only two undergarments I ever buy. I have no use for bras. My breasts are an average B cup and as perky as an eighteen year olds. Some women don’t like the feel or look of bouncing tits, men do. Simple as that.
My dresser had six drawers. Three were stuffed with my sexy as sin underwear collection and the others with socks.
I don’t know why, but my toes always freeze. Seriously. I can handle any type of weather. Cold can never be cold enough and heat, no matter how high, would barely break me out into a sweat. But my feet can never seem to stay warm.
I grabbed a pair of black and white striped knee-high toe socks and put them on. I was crawling back into bed when Luc returned.
He wore a pair of black satin sleep pants and nothing else. One of the many he had tucked around here. He carried a plate with two sandwiches on it in one hand, and a glass of red wine in the other.
We didn’t live together. That would give the illusion of domesticity and whatever you might think about the neph, domestic we are not.
Though he was here often enough that it was easier to give him his own drawer.
He sat down next to me. Handed me one sandwich and kept the other. I took the glass of wine and sat it on the end table.
I nibbled on the bread, but I wasn’t that hungry. I’m not sure what it was about Luc, for some people an after sex ciggy was an absolute must, for Luc, it was food.
He took several bites, staring straight ahead at the wall. I lifted my brow, but didn’t say a word. I lifted the slice of white bread and stared at the pinkish brown nest of roast beef, the odor reminding me of the chunks I’d left in the toilet bowl earlier.
My stomach somersaulted with the reminder. I wrinkled my nose, groaned, and sat the sandwich aside, grabbing the wine instead.
After several more seconds of contemplative silence Luc finally turned to me and frowned.
“How did a priest of death find us, Pandora?”
I crossed my legs at the ankle and leaned back against the headboard, my heart thudded fast picturing Billy as I’d last seen him. I had nothing to offer on that subject, I was as confused as Luc. I shrugged, taking a drink of the red wine. It was cool, spicy, and a sweet balm to the burn in my stomach.
“What did he do to you?”
I recounted everything to the point where Billy had found me, then I paused. It had been nagging at me for some time but I finally voiced my thoughts. “You know, Billy aside—”
Luc raised his brow. “Billy?” There was a chilly edge to his voice.
“Huh?” I raised my eyes from the glass of wine to him, not sure why he sounded so peeved and bristly. I waved it aside. “Priest whatever, aside from all that...what was a vampire doing here tonight?”
He watched me for another tense moment and again I wondered what was wrong with him. He was acting all weird and moody and I didn’t like it. Finally he blew out a deep breath, as if attempting to gather his thoughts.
“Bubba and I wonde
red the same thing,” he said, sounding almost normal again. But there was still a betraying hint of anger quivering behind those words.
I sipped on my wine, mulling it over. There was an unspoken hatred between all things parasites—our all encompassing way of grouping by name those things not quite human—and neph.
To understand why, you’d have to go way back in history. History bores me. I lived through it, so I rarely feel the need to revisit it. Let’s put it this way...what you think you know, you don’t. A vampire is not some blood sucking fiend who can bite someone, exchange blood and create more baby vamppies.
That’s a romanticized version of the ugly truth. But, there is always some truth in myth. And I guess to understand the paras, you first have to understand their creators.
Here’s the shorthand account of what’s what in monster society. Everything starts with us, the demons. One day a group of angels in the heavens saw the daughters of man, they lusted after them, they mated, some were raped, some were willing, but in the end children were born from the union. The nephilim. My people.
As punishment for their crimes the fallen angels were cast out of heaven. Once on Earth their names were changed to demon.
The Father was so incensed by the depravation of his creation that he had them chained and thrown into the fiery pit. AKA Hell.
Though the demons had been cast out they were plenty powerful in their own right. Even chained, they still wished to rule Earth by Lucifer’s side—aka Satan—so they created minions or another name for them, lower caste demon—LCD for short—much the same way God created Eve from Adam.
The LCD’s are a little like us neph. We all have the same patriarchal lineage. But unlike us, the LCD have no humanity within them to battle the inherent evil that is a demon’s nature. They are pure bad and mindless little lackeys for their masters.
And now we’re back to where we started, the paras. In one form or another they are all the creation of the fallen ones that mortals petitioned power for.
Who knows why the humans make the deal. Whatever the case might be, there is always a price to pay.
Loss of will.
A demon cannot force you to sign on the proverbial dotted line. But once you do there’s no going back.
It is with the LCD that the human’s make the trade. Their human souls for earthly power.
Demons require total and absolute allegiance. You are no longer your own. Remember that song: signed, sealed, delivered, I’m yours, yeah something like that.
It’s the ultimate irony really. People crave power and total domination and what they wind up becoming is whipping posts for the homicidal, masochistic, sadistic perversions of a demon’s will.
So next time you think about dancing with the Devil... just an FYI, I wouldn’t. Can’t say I didn’t warn ya.
Anyway, you become what you crave. That’s the stripped down, simplified version of it.
You want beauty, wealth... the demons turns you vamp. You want power... shifter. Long life... zombie.
But of course it’s never what you expect. Vampires aren’t immortal, they drink blood but their canines aren’t much longer than a house cats. More often than not you’ll see a vamp feeding with a syringe or razor. They live long lives compared to mortals. Two, three hundred years, but they age. Slower than normal, but still age nonetheless. They’re strong, but nothing like us.
In short vamps have everything to fear from us and we have very little to fear from them. Which is why they usually make themselves scarce when we’re around.
I looked at Luc. He was bent at the waist, elbows resting on his knees looking out at nothing.
“Don’t you think that’s weird?” I finally said. “That makes vamp number three in less than a month?”
He rubbed his jaw, sighed and sat back, pierced me with one of his frosty stares. I had to admit it was good to have edgy Luc back, moody guy weirded me out for reasons I couldn’t quite fathom.
“Yeah, but they were all young. Kids with too much balls and little bite. Coincidence?”
I didn’t believe that and neither did he. Coincidences got you killed. My weird-dar said vamps and now priest were somehow connected. Don’t press me to try and explain why, I couldn’t if I tried. It was a hunch. Nothing more.
I growled, the synapses’ in my brain unable to find the connection between A and Z.
“What we need is to talk with Grace.”
I cocked my head. “Hasn’t she contacted you yet? We’ve been here two days already.”
Luc threw his hands up, stood and stretched. “Not yet. Second she does I’ll let you know.”
He was halfway out the bedroom when I asked, “By the way, did you see anyone else out there?”
The feral gleam was back in his eyes the minute I mentioned it. “No, but if I find him, I’ll kill him.”
Then he was gone, scent of sulfur the only proof he’d ever been. He was pissed, moody, and frankly, I didn’t know how to deal with that. No doubt however that he was out there somewhere close, watching, maybe hoping Billy would return.
I hated to admit it, so was I.
For entirely different reasons.
Chapter 5
I shoved my hands into my pockets, watching the crowd through slitted eyes. A northerly wind had blown in, it was brutally cold tonight, but that didn’t seem to stop anyone. The carnival was in full swing, a macabre repeat of last night.
On auto pilot, I watched rider after rider get on the big wheel, repeating the same old lines over and over. Be careful, don’t stick your hand out the sides, don’t swing the basket...blah, blah, blah.
Part of me kept hoping I’d catch a glimpse of Billy. Another part, was hoping he’d stay away. Permanently. Why was I so obsessed with him?
After a sleepless night I’d come to one absolute conclusion. Billy had to die. He couldn’t be allowed to walk around, not while he knew where we were. How to find us. That was too dangerous. Not just for me, but my entire family.
Even so, I couldn’t stand the thought of anyone else taking his life. I would have to be the one to do it.
I huffed. How crappy was it that I’d finally found someone who intrigued me beyond sanity, only to realize I couldn’t keep him?
Sometimes my life really sucked.
Billy was bad news gift wrapped in a gorgeous package. Last night he’d held a knife to my throat. That was proof enough that the big bad wolf wasn’t out there buying me roses and chocolate. More likely he was loading down that chiseled frame of his with all sorts of weapons meant to make a girl like me squeal.
I leaned against the fence, crossed my booted feet at the ankles and yes, sulked. Lust and I were in a foul mood. If the outside reflected the inside, then I was wearing a big fat sign that read: beware the dog. Last night I’d been all frills and sex, tonight I was in leather.
I wasn’t on the hunt. Lust had charged the juice last night with Luc and the vamp, and yet, it hadn’t been enough. Not nearly. She’d tagged Billy, whether the man wanted me or not didn’t matter to her. It was almost pathetic the way she wanted him.
I was keeping Lust’s more violent tendencies in check, but just barely.
“Hey, baby.”
I looked up.
A kid, no older than seventeen, staggered up next to me. Alcohol strong on his breath, blue eyes glassy and riddled with bloodshot veins. He gave me a drunken leer, taking his time rolling his gaze up and down my body.
“You’re looking pretty fine tonight.” He hiccupped and chuckled, one of those laughs only the severely drunk find funny. I lifted a brow, my fingers clenched convulsively at my side. “I got a sweet room in the mountains, real private like.” He smiled, touched my necklace and let it slide between his fingers.
Anger foamed in my belly, spewed up my throat. I narrowed my eyes. “What are you thinking, Junior?” My voice was soft, but cold. He was too drunk to notice. If he touched me one more time I claimed no responsibility for my actions.
“Wanna take a
ride on the Wayne train?” He wiggled his eyebrows in a way that made me think of a Jim Henson puppet. “Promise you’ll love it.” He leaned in, his nose inches from my neck. Not quite touching, but almost there.
I bared my teeth, revealing the baby fangs I normally kept hidden. They weren’t as sharp or as long as Luc’s, but they could be disconcerting.
The rancid smell of STD was all over him. It spikes the sweat sliding out the pores with a musty, rotted scent. Ridden by Lust, I’d screwed a sick stick before, but it was gross. I couldn’t get diseases, but if you’ve ever seen something like that, then you know what I mean.
“How could I possibly resist when you ask me like that?” I sneered.
He chuckled, so flippin' sure of himself.
“But oh, what a pity, I have laundry to do tonight. Too bad.” I cocked my hip and gave him what I thought was a clear vibe to shove off.
Wayne train had the nerve to grab me by said hips and push me further into the fence. He ground his erection against me, his hand trailing down my arm. “I always get what I want.” His fetid breath smacked me in the face.
Do you ever have those moments when you’re so angry that you grow calm? Like the bands of a hurricane are swirling inside your body but you’re the eye? You’re danger incarnate, but you don’t look it?
I smiled, shimmied my hands up his arms and pressed my breasts tight to his chest. “Ohh, when you put it like that—”
His eyes zipped to the tops of my flattened breasts.
I grabbed his face in a punishing grip. He squirmed, but was still too piss poor drunk to realize how much danger he was in. Almost made me feel sorry for the little maggot. Almost.
I kissed him, mashing my mouth to his in such a way that it forced him to open up or be bruised. He whimpered and I felt a rising thrum of fear override his senses.
I sucked his tongue into my mouth, his hands moved frantically all over my body, but not to draw me closer. He was trying to push me away.
Lust laughed.
Tongues are such a soft, delicate piece of tissue. So many nerve endings. Teased the right way tonguing can be a delicious experience.
I bit him, my fangs slicing deep.
