Demons in Disguise: The Divinicus Nex Chronicles: Book Three

by A and E Kirk

  “Not a chance.” Matthias said. “It’s a high level Mandatum compound, just the type of thing you’re trying to avoid. You have no credentials to get in so you’ll draw attention to yourself, and us, and you can’t explain the trip to your parents. You’ll just get in the way and end up being one more thing we have to worry about.”

  Ayden came through the bedroom door looking fresh and carrying a heightened level of tension. I could feel it in his fingers as they slipped through mine and held tight.

  “He’s right,” Ayden said. “But you can’t be left here alone. Jayden, you and Logan can stay.”

  “No,” Matthias said tiredly, as if he’d explained this before. “If Tristan is in trouble, we need all hands on deck.”

  Ayden started to argue, but I squeezed his hand with mine and put my other hand on his chest. I could feel his heart thumping a rapid rhythm.

  “Ayden, if anything happened to Tristan because there weren’t enough of you, I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself. Please. We fixed all of the protection wards around town, and there are plenty around my house and the school. I can take care of myself. Go find Tristan, make sure he’s safe, and then get answers from Heather. That’s what will help me the most.”

  Ayden didn’t nod, but I could sense his reluctant agreement.

  “A difficult choice,” Jayden said. “But most beneficial for the team. I trust in your competence, Aurora. Additionally, could you please remember to inspect Aunt M’s computer printouts on a systematic basis? I’m awaiting the results on the analysis of the particulates from the evidence the Grants collected. You will need to notify me immediately with the findings as any surplus information could prove vital.”

  “Of course,” I said.

  “In the car in five.” Matthias left through the door. Jayden went out the window.

  Ayden cupped my face in his hands. His dark eyes bore into me. “I don’t like this.”

  I gave him a small smile. “Parting is such sweet sorrow.”

  A line furrowed on his brow. “Don’t make light of this.”

  “Coddling breeds weakness?”

  More lines furrowed. “Aurora, I’m serious. You have to be on your guard. Don’t take any chances. Zap anything or anyone that threatens you in any way, I don’t care who’s around to see. You’ve got the power. Use it. You’re what’s most important. We can get Tristan to mind-wipe the whole town if we have to, but no matter what, I want you safe. I need you safe. Got it? I won’t go unless you promise.”

  “I promise.” I put my arms around his neck and leaned forward to touch my lips to his. “And even sealed it with a kiss. It’s official.”

  His brow cleared. Mostly. “You call that a kiss? Pathetic.”

  The grim line of his mouth lifted into a half-smile. He stared at me for a moment, his fingers tracing along my brow then down my cheek before stopping at the corner of my mouth. His index finger ran along my bottom lip, causing my body to tingle.

  “I think we can do better than that,” he said, his voice rumbling with a husky edge.

  His head lowered, and his mouth came down upon mine. His full lips were playful and teasing, almost too soft. I leaned forward wanting more. He responded.

  One hand slipped into my hair to cup the back of my head and bring us closer, while his other hand moved to my waist, settling into the soft curve. He squeezed softly, then his palm moved slowly up my side, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. His fingers slid over my ribs, and my breath caught as I realized that since I was still in my pajamas, I wasn’t wearing a bra.

  Ayden’s hand kept moving up my side until it suddenly paused. He realized it too.

  Stupid, I know, that being without a bra should make a difference, but it did somehow. I didn’t want him to stop, exactly, it was just… His hands on me with that particular item of apparel missing made the contact somehow disconcerting. More intimate? Feeling exposed? I felt myself tense.

  Ayden lifted his head, eyes flecked with amber. “Sorry.” His hand changed course, smoothly angling around my back.

  I blushed. Not sure what to say. Then he was kissing me again, and I didn’t have to speak. His other hand left my hair and moved down until both his hands were on the bare skin of my back, pressing hard, traveling up and down, over my shoulders, along my spine, across my hips, up my sides, his fingers splayed like they were trying to feel every inch of me all at once. His thumbs tickled softly under my arms, making me shiver, then his hands slid down following the curve of my waist and making my body flush with heat.

  His hands crisscrossed over my back again, like a blind man reading every page of my flesh. The back of my pajamas lifted to the cool air, a harsh contrast to his hot touch.

  My lips parted, the kiss deepened. My fingers in his hair, I pulled him closer. His tongue danced against mine. Tension eased from my muscles in some ways, and heightened in others. Nerves sprung to life, showering my body with sensations of pleasure, my mind filling with thoughts and feelings that made me blush.

  I relaxed against him. Then pressed harder, wanting him closer. Needing him closer. He made a small sound in his throat. His hands dipped low, sliding down into the sway of my back.

  And not stopping.

  His fingertips slipped under the waistband of my pajamas and ventured lower, to the soft swell of my—

  Honk! Honk! Hoooonnnk!

  Swearing angrily, Ayden yanked himself away.

  “Sorry!” His hands wrenched from my body, and he backed up a step, palms raised. “I’m sorry.” His breathing was heavy, near panting. Face flushed, he ran a hand over his scalp. Fire flickered bright in his eyes. “I got carried away. Again. Around you, jeez, it is so fricking hard.”

  The laughter burst out of me before I could stop it.

  He looked up, frowning. “What’s so funny?” A beat of silence later, he closed his eyes as a blush raced up his neck and onto his cheeks. “Oh, ha ha. That wasn’t what I meant. I was talking about it being hard—”

  Another laugh snorted out. I brought my fist to my lips and mumbled against it, “Sorry. Sorry.”

  “You are so immature.” He glared, but a sheepish grin fought its way to his lips, taking any sting from his words. “I meant keeping control around you is difficult. And I’m not just talking about the fire issue. In many ways it’s har—I mean difficult to keep myself in check. So to speak.”

  “Well.” I rolled my lips in and out of my mouth. “I think either way, I’m supposed to be flattered. So thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Honk! Honk!

  Mom called from down below, “Ayden! They’re waiting for you!”

  He gritted his teeth and opened the door. “Please tell them I’ll be right down, Mrs. Lahey!” He turned to me. “Again. I’m sorry.”

  “Wait.” I took his hand and stared at it since I couldn’t look him in the eye. “You don’t need to be sorry. Maybe I haven’t made it clear, but you’re not the only one having a hard time with, um, control.”

  After a moment, a soft warm breeze swirled around us. He lifted our hands and pressed his lips to my knuckles, gazing at me from under heavy lashes. The fire no longer burned literally in his eyes, but it didn’t make the look any less hot.

  “That is good to hear.” His voice rumbled low. “Now stay safe as promised so we can work on this hard situation when I get back. Hey. No laughing.”

  I squelched the laughter, but not the smile. “Yes, sir.”

  “Mmmm,” he said. “I love a girl who can follow orders.”

  He kissed me. Just a peck. But it was difficult to let him go.

  I fully intended to keep my promise to stay out of harm’s way. Unfortunately, harm had other ideas and walked right into mine.

  CHAPTER 35

  “What are you going to do without your Hex Boy entourage?” Luna asked as she, Lucian, and I passed the spray of water shooting into the air from the fountain in front of the high school. “You’re just another lonely loser now.�
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  “Gee, thanks.” I dipped a hand in the splashing water and flicked some drops on her face. The water dripped down her cheek, streaking the ultra-pale makeup.

  She patted her face. “Jerk! Now I have to fix it. Do you know how much work this takes?”

  “And that’s what makes it so sad,” I sighed, then ran up the steps to dodge her wet retaliation.

  I was already missing the Hex Boys and worried about Tristan. We didn’t have answers. Nothing had come in on Aunt M’s computer about the demon gunk analysis. The day wasn’t looking good when I walked through Gossamer High’s main door. Then the intercoms blared.

  “Aurora Lahey, please report to the office.”

  I stopped. “What now?”

  Lucian came up beside me. “You’ve got to have your own room in there by now.”

  I bumped my shoulder into him. “I don’t get called up that often.”

  “Oh, please.” Luna joined us, checking herself out in a compact mirror. “You spend too much time distracted by your secret missions. At this rate, you’re getting more infamous than the Hex Boys.”

  “Am not.”

  “Are too,” Lucian said. “It’s probably about you and Ayden getting caught making out.”

  “Pssh,” Luna scoffed. “She ain’t getting that kind of action. Ten bucks says it’s her grades.”

  “You’re on,” Lucian said.

  The two accompanied me down the hallway. Lucian rushed a few steps ahead to open the office door, then he and Luna shook hands on the bet and Luna said, “Keep us posted.”

  I scowled as I strolled through. “You guys have serious issues.”

  “With a sister like you—” Luna started.

  “—how could we not?” Lucian finished.

  The front desk assistant waved at me. “Aurora, the principal will see you now.”

  “Better hurry!” Luna smiled. “Your grades can’t afford you being late to class.”

  “Don’t sweat it,” Lucian said. “You can catch up in detention.”

  Both true statements. Didn’t make me want to strangle them any less.

  With a grunt, I pushed open the ridiculously heavy wooden door to Principal Clarke’s office. The impressive room boasted lots of dark, heavy wood paneling on the walls. There was an expansive desk, floor-to-ceiling cabinets lording the space behind, and two leather chairs in front of the desk. Bookshelves brimmed with classic knowledge. Two tall, thin windows on one wall provided a clear view of the endless lawns. There was even a fireplace.

  I ignored all of its splendor and beelined for the desk, passing the two massive high-backed, cocoon-like chairs made of carved wood that stood like thrones on either side of the door.

  I smiled at our esteemed principal, Angela Clarke, who was a tough woman, but fair, and clearly cared for her students, so I felt good. Calm. Centered. Confident. I could handle this.

  “Look, Principal Clarke, it’s all one big misunderstanding,” I said. “I’m sure we can work this out.” Whatever this was.

  “Let’s hope so.” She leaned back in her chair and tapped a finger on my student file sitting on her desk.

  Crap. It was my grades.

  “Please take a seat.” Principal Clarke gestured behind me. “This is—”

  “I’m good.” I let my million pound backpack thunk onto the floor. “Just like my grades. You can see for yourself, they’re improving. You don’t need to call my parents.”

  Principal Clarke didn’t look impressed. “Aurora, please—”

  “No Ds,” I butted in quickly.

  “Not yet. But the way things are going—”

  “I’m even working on an A.”

  “In P.E.”

  “Sure, there’s that. But you know what they say? Excellence in physical education is the precursor to miraculous scholastic improvement.”

  She frowned. “They don’t say that.”

  Shoot. I thought using such an impressive SAT word like “precursor” would buy me some believability.

  “Well, they should say that because I can assure you my physical prowess will absolutely precurse me,” not sure if I got that right or just cursed myself in a preliminary manner, oh well, better use it twice to make sure, “will no doubt precurse me to As. Or Bs. Or at least keep me from dipping down to Ds. Please ma’am, give me chance.”

  “Actually, that is exactly why you’re here,” she said. “For a chance to improve your grades.”

  “Really?” I let out a breath of relief. “That’s so awesome. Thank you.” I looked pointedly at the clock on her desk. “So I’d better get to class on time. I won’t let you down. Bye.”

  “Miss Lahey!” Her sharp tone stopped me as I reached for my backpack. “Quit acting like a whirling dervish and listen. I’m putting you in charge of our newest student.” The principal gestured behind me again.

  “What?” I looked over my shoulder.

  The new student sat with too much ease in one of the throne chairs to the left of the door.

  Principal Clarke said, “May I present Mr.—”

  But my mouth opened and once again I interrupted her, whispering the name through a bleak sigh. “Cristiano Cacciatori.”

  CHAPTER 36

  The bottom fell out of my stomach and hit the floor in a squishy puddle of terror. Followed closely by the blood which had already drained from my face.

  The principal was talking. She sounded far away. “So you’ve met?”

  Cristiano rested his elbows on the arms of the chair and laced his fingers together. “In a manner of speaking.”

  The back of my thighs pressed into the principal’s desk. I desperately wished I could ghost through it and all the walls and be anywhere but here. I wanted to scream, but my mouth was sucked dry of saliva. I could feel my lips moving, but I couldn’t utter any words.

  In contrast to my panicked state, the assassin looked ever so at ease. No tension in the handsome face. High cheekbones towering over that geometrically precise square jaw, a perpetual five o’clock shadow giving him a rugged look. A slight smile on his lips, hair combed back in neat waves of rich brown kissed with lighter shades such as caramel, honey, and even a dash of auburn running through. He was dressed in a long-sleeved buttondown shirt tucked into casual trousers, leather belt matching his shoes. So Armani model-esque.

  I’d forgotten how big he was. Along with the intimidating size, he exuded a languid grace coupled with an underlying dark, rumbling, and dangerous power.

  All the better to break you in two with, my dear.

  Not if I could help it.

  The office door was still open. If my abject terror rendered me unable to scream, at least I could run. I pushed off the desk and bolted. Fast.

  Principal Clarke made some startled noise of protest. I didn’t care. Escape was my only option. I had no Hex Boys, no backup, and a Sicarius assassin a few feet away.

  I made my mad dash, eyes locked on the room beyond. Freedom.

  The Armani model look-alike didn’t startle in any way. In fact, he barely moved. Except to casually flick the door with the toe of his shiny leather loafer. The door was solid and thick. Such an incidental flick should not have sent it swinging closed so easily. But it did. And I was moving too fast to stop myself.

  Sure, I tried. But there was enough of a splat-thud when my body slammed into the door that I heard people on the other side make surprised noises. The door shook. Or it could've been the rattling of my bones as I bounced off. The blow to my head had me seeing stars. I blinked. Staggered. Started to go down. A hand on my elbow steadied me, then tugged firmly, and I was off my feet and suddenly sitting.

  Whew. That felt better. Take a moment, Aurora. Don’t pass out and make it easy for him. My vision blinked back into some level of clarity, and I found myself in Armani’s lap.

  He smiled. I squealed.

  Then I scrambled out of his lap, landed on my knees, and quickly stumbled to my feet. Grace personified.

  But at least I was away.
And he wasn’t following me. Not physically, anyway. However, his pale green eyes tracked every move I made with a calm, calculating intensity.

  The principal was saying words, sounding alarmed, but I couldn’t latch on to any meaning. Get out, Aurora. Now. But—

  The windows! We were on the first floor, more like a floor and a half at this point, but still no problem and worth the risk. I dashed to the closest one, tried to lift it open. It was locked. Of course. I fumbled with the latch, my shaking hands not making it easy, but I did it. Yanked it open.

  A gust of wind slapped me in the face, throwing my hair into fitful swirls, covering my eyes. I shoved the red curls away enough to see and started to throw one leg over the sill. That's when I heard a pleasant, “Good morning,” looked down, and froze.

  The man who’d spoken was outside on the lawn. He waved amiably. “Need some help?” Then he stepped closer and offered up a hand.

  I recoiled back into the room. The guy was tall and thin. Near skeletal. I recognized him.

  Horus. The wind hunter on Cristiano Cacciatori’s Sicarius team.

  With Cacciatori behind me and Horus waiting below, I was bookended by death.

  CHAPTER 37

  I swiveled toward Armani who hadn’t moved much. His legs remained crossed in a casual fashion. He had an elbow on the arm of the throne chair so he could cock his hand up and rest his chin on his knuckles.

  He was watching me.

  My eyes flicked to the closed door next to him. His eyes did the same, then he was staring at me again. One side of his mouth twitched upward. He raised one brow in question.

  Breathing and clear thought were tough, but I fought through the panic. I was fast. I could get to the door. However, while he sat in such nonchalant repose, I registered something rippling underneath. Like a river frozen over, but with water rushing beneath in violent, swirling currents, a deadly monster capable of bursting through the surface to devour its prey.

  Still, I thought about it. Making the run. The escape. As my body tensed in anticipation, he caught my gaze with those pale green eyes that tracked my every move. He gave a subtle, negative shake of his head.