by Ash Krafton
Sonya bolted toward him, arms outreached, and wrapped him in a tight hug. "Oh, Jagger, thank God it's you."
He grunted in surprise but he didn't dislodge her. Enzo briefly described the night's strange event, stopping short of venturing a guess as to the identity of the invader. He didn't need to.
Jagger hugged Sonya closer. He knew.
"I got things from here, Enzo." Jagger slid his sword free and set it on the desk.
His movement made Sonya keenly aware of his heartbeat against her cheek. She dropped her arms, hiding her face and her heated flush.
"You want me to call Ionis over?" Enzo picked up the phone.
"Nah." Jagger stooped to dig through the chest cooler and pulled out a bottle. "I got this."
Enzo dipped his head in a curt nod toward Sonya before pulling open the door to leave. Sonya fluttered her fingers in a small wave.
"I'm sorry." Jagger extended the bottle toward Sonya.
Mango pop, the label read. She took it with a grateful smile.
"No, I'm the one who should be sorry. I really frightened him. I shouldn't have over-reacted like that."
"You didn't. You were in serious danger, and you did the right thing. Dammit." He flipped open the clasps of his harness. "I didn't need him to find out about you."
"That's my fault," she admitted. "I've been going out walking. Only to spare your partner the distraction of me being here. I know why he's been so uncomfortable."
"You know I just want to yell at you for that." He eyed her a moment. "You know, I will yell. Why would you do such a stupid thing?"
"Stupid? What's stupid about trying to figure out why I'm here in the first place? I'm sure I wasn't pulled out of my world because the higher powers wanted me to experience a change in scenery. There's a reason I was sent to you. Not going to find it sitting around this house."
"Not going to find it if Acheron gets you, either. You'll just be dead."
She stilled herself. "It really was him, wasn't it?"
"Sounds like it."
She shook her head. "I can't believe it. I thought it was you. That hair, those shoulders. But his eyes—"
Jagger nodded. "Yeah. His eyes are something else."
"Well. You're here. It's almost dawn. Let's get you cleaned up." She rubbed her cheek where a smear of his blood had dried into an itchy patch.
He groaned. "Oh, no. You're not going to wash me, are you?"
"Of course not." She shrugged. "I just want to make sure there's nothing serious under that blood."
"You don't need to trouble yourself."
"You don't really get me, do you?" Sonya rubbed her mouth. The night was taking its toll on her—the anxiety, the scare, the relief—so many high-energy emotions. Even her Seraph stamina could only withstand so much. And even after all this time, he still didn't get who she was. "I can't ignore your hurts. Please, I'll be quick. Fresh wounds knit quickly if I get to them in time."
He searched her face a moment, before giving a slight nod.
Breathing deeply, she closed her eyes, using only her Seraph sight to look at him. Immediately, she saw each slash, each scrape, a hairline fracture in his hip. Gently, she reached up and peeled off his coat, trying to avoid opening the wounds that were sticky with blood. The damage was extensive, with some wounds penetrating his thick leather longcoat to score his pale flesh.
Tears swelled in her eyes, brimming on her lashes. Seeing him so wounded, so vulnerable made her forget that he was half-demon, half-enemy of all she'd ever known. She saw only the man, the person who took in a stranger just to help her on her mission, the soldier who put his life on the line to wage war with Hell itself. He did those things without expecting anything in return.
Selflessness. Sacrifice. Those things, she understood. She felt a connection to him she'd never before noticed. Never expected.
She leaned toward him preparing to heal him. Remembering what he'd once said about "waving a magic finger", she hesitated. Raising her hands, she extended a part of her aura, encompassing him in her healing spirit.
She heard him sigh, and cracked her eyes to see him sitting on the edge of the desk, head dropped back, his own eyes closed. The smears of blood were gone, his skin as unmarred as she'd ever seen.
"That feels better." His voice was low. "I would have healed by tomorrow but, I gotta say, I don't mind sooner than later."
"I feel better, too. You really don't know how hard it is to be a healer and have to see you come in after a fight." She crossed her arms and peered up at him. "Now if only I can get you to let me do something about the old stuff."
"Hell, you had a tough night, honey." He shrugged. "Maybe one or two scars wouldn't kill me. Just so that you'd feel better, I mean."
"Really? You'd do that—you'd endure a Healing—for me?"
"It's not like I don't make out in the deal. You fixed my gimpy shoulder, remember?"
"I'm not going to argue. I really need this. I've been—" She laced her fingers, clasping her hands to her chest. "Thank you," she finished simply.
"So." Grinning, she pretended to scrutinize his chest. "What a mess. Where should I start?"
He returned the grin, a lopsided cockiness that she found endearing. "This might not be so bad. I forget what it's like to get pawed at by a cute little broad."
She frowned at him. "This is purely clinical."
"Okay, okay. Forget I said anything. Here, how about this one?" He pointed to the side of his neck, where a knot of fibrous scar dragged across his collarbone to his throat. "This one itches under my strap."
She reached up to brush his hair away. His breath quickened at her touch. Their eyes met for a moment, and Sonya hesitated.
He bit his lips together and nodded.
Sonya lifted up onto her toes and pressed her lips to the side of his throat, pouring all that she had into the contact. She reached out to him with her magic, her longing and her hope and her desire to ease his pain. Her heart soared, knowing she'd soon become lost in the healing, lost in the light and the rush of God's Will.
At once, she became aware of him—felt his shoulders beneath her hands, his flesh against her mouth. She breathed in the scent of his skin, picked out the rhythm of his heartbeat. So many sensations—Sonya was overwhelmed, her head spun, caught between her body and her soul. She couldn't ignore one to revel in the other.
She gave into them both. It was like nothing she'd ever experienced.
When she wobbled, he wrapped his arm around her waist and steadied her. Her lips on his throat, she felt him swallow, felt the skin warm with the first of the healing flush.
Jagger gasped a sharp intake of ragged breath.
The sound grounded her, pulling her back from the edge of newly-discovered ecstasy. Alarmed, she tried to pull away but he didn't let her go. Instead, he pulled her closer, cradling her head with his free hand.
"No," he murmured. "Don't stop."
She held the healing touch long past the moment when the skin had been renewed. When she could justify her closeness no longer, she pulled away and brushed her fingers across his neck.
He closed his eyes and relaxed.
His reaction troubled her. "It wasn't deep," she said. "It shouldn't have hurt."
When he looked at her, his dark eyes gave nothing away. "It didn't hurt."
"But why—"
"Because it was the most incredible thing I've ever felt." He dropped his arm, releasing her. "And it scared me."
She looked at him for a long, wordless moment. His bangs, handing loose over one eye, trembled slightly. What did it cost for him to say it? Surely more than she'd ever be willing to pay herself.
It was wrong to expect so much from him, especially since she was the one who showed up on his doorstep, looking for help. She had no right to demand an emotional price from him, not when she was the beggar. And although she wanted nothing more than to repay him with the only thing she had to offer, she couldn't force it on him.
Not when it hurt hi
m like this.
She nodded once, lowering her eyes, chastised. "I'm sorry."
Turning away, she hurried up the stairs to her room and closed the door before the tears began to fall.
The last thing she expected was for Jagger to open the door behind her.
His breathing was labored as if he'd sprinted up the steps. Even his aura roiled, unrest coursing through his veins. Had she stirred his demon blood with her brashness?
Sonya's heart hammered against her ribs. She didn't turn around, afraid to endure his reproach. She'd gone too far.
Sonya pressed her hands to her mouth, holding her breath. Eyes squeezed tightly shut, she held on to her breath. The last thing she wanted was for him to hear her crying.
"Hey." His voice was low, rugged with emotion. "Sunny—"
There was no anger in his voice, no rebuke. Unsure of what she'd see, she turned toward him. Anguish played in his expression, his eyes full of conflict.
"Don't cry, you didn't—I don't want you to think—" He seemed to have trouble finding words. "I don't deserve—"
"Jagger, I told you." She swallowed past the knot in her throat. "I'm a healer. It's a job I have to do."
"Please don't say that." He reached behind him to close the door and leaned against it. "My whole life is just one job after another. Please don't say—"
He shrugged and hung his head, seeming to study the floor. "I don't want to be just a job to you."
His voice, so plaintive, cut through her, bringing tears of another kind. Stepping closer to him, she lifted his chin and bade him look at her. "You're not. You never could be."
Jagger ran his palms up her arms, looking relieved and uncomfortable at the same time. "I don't know what to do. I never felt like this. It's—not me."
She shook her head. "It is you, Jagger. You just haven't seen this side of yourself before."
"So…" Licking his lips, he pulled her closer. "What do we do now?"
"Well." She smiled and leaned against him, resting her head against his chest. His heart beat a fast and steady rhythm. "Healing isn't the only thing I can do with my kiss."
His touch on her arms tensed, fingers pressing into her flesh. He released her, dropping his hands.
"Yeah, well. You don't know what my kiss can do." Jagger pulled away, gaze averted. "You've forgotten what I am."
"No, I haven't." Sonya reached for his face, a slight pressure on his strong jaw, to urge him to look at her. "You are a brave man who doesn't give himself enough credit."
"Because I'm not a man." His voice was bitter. "I'm demon."
"You have a mixed heritage, like I do. You can choose which nature prevails, Jagger, just as I can." She looked up into his grey eyes, seeing his torment, wanting to chase it away. No man deserved to be so full of conflict, especially not Jagger. Hadn't he seen enough conflict to last entire lifetimes? "I choose this common ground we share. I choose to be near you, without fear."
"And what if I can't turn it off? You don't know me." He turned his head away again, doubt and anger leaking into his expression.
She took his jaw again, more firmly. "I do know you."
Sonya held him fast and looked deeper into his eyes, plunging herself, her essence, down into his inner places. She was not wrong, she knew. She'd looked down into him before and saw he was in as much control of his natures as she was in control of her own.
She'd never known anyone who was demon-born before, not even of the thinnest blood. Being half-human herself, she knew how much there was left to learn about her own divine nature. Sonya could only imagine the unknowns Jagger faced—or refused to face, given his stubbornness.
There was no reason they couldn't explore their unknowns together. She trusted him, and the hollow places deep within her craved his companionship. Sonya needed his protection. He needed her redemption.
This time, she didn't disguise her Seraphimic touch. She allowed him to feel her as she brushed against his spirit: the caress of angel's down, the satin warmth of human flesh. Hands pressed lightly to his chest, she exhaled close to his lips, allowing him to taste her breath. This time, she allowed him to remember her intimate exploration of his soul.
His eyes widened, his breath caught. Jagger seized her with both hands, pulling her against him, drawing her face up to his. His breathing was ragged. Wild emotions surged through him, not the least of which being fear.
Sonya's hands were pinned between them. Now she was aware of more than his pounding heart beneath her palms. She felt the heat of his body: the hard muscle, the long torso, the press of powerful thighs. There was no part of her body that wasn't keenly aware of his, and she melted against him, unable to resist.
"I can't hold back if you touch me like that." Jagger's voice was rough, little more than a rumble. "My blood can get hot, Sunny. I don't want to hurt you."
She closed her eyes and smiled. "You can't."
"How do you know?" Still holding her a mere breath away, Jagger tilted his head, brushing his lips against her cheek, inhaling her scent. "I burn things, I destroy them. I'm not—tender. I don't know if I can hold back."
Sonya whispered close to his ear. "You don't have to."
Jagger slid his grip down her arms to her sides, squeezing her waist. His response was low, guttural, and he bent down to bury his face in her neck. Hot breath poured against her shoulder a moment before she felt his mouth leave a trail of kisses along her throat.
Sonya let her head drop back, opening up to his exploration. She indulged him for several long moments, enjoying the sensual press of his full mouth, allowing his touch to enflame her in a way she'd never known. She cradled his head, plunging her fingers into his hair, pulling him closer. "In fact…"
She slid out of his embrace, enjoying the hungry look so naked upon his face. She toyed with her mouth, running her finger along her lower lip. His intense desire for her made her acutely aware of her own body, turning her legs to liquid. Backing away, a step at a time, she moved closer to the bed and extended her hand. "I'm really hoping you won't."
His lips parted in a ravenous smile, he plunged toward her, tumbling her onto the bed. They landed in a breathless heap, arms and legs a sudden tangle. He paused a moment, reaching up to tenderly push her golden hair out of her eyes, wearing a lopsided smile. "What kind of angel are you?"
Sonya's voice was little more than breath. "Yours."
He leaned and kissed her, those full lips pressed against hers for a lingering, chaste moment. Breaking the kiss, Jagger inhaled, drawing her breath in. He kissed her again, this time with a silky slip of tongue when he tasted her.
The intimacy of his kiss made her gasp, his heat pouring into her, pooling in her secret places. She dug her fingertips into his back.
Jagger smiled.
When he let the fire take over, she welcomed him, welcomed all of him. She knew there was more than one way to heal a man, and she was eager to counter his fire with a cool touch of her own.
Their longing could be denied no longer. Together, angel-born and demon-born found their common ground and, together, they burned.
DEMONS
"You think you could stay a while?" He stretched alongside her, watching the lazy turns of the ceiling fan and the slow sway of the curtains. They were faded but he could see they had been blue once, with tiny stitched flowers along the bottom. It made him wonder what kind of people had lived here and what had happened to them.
He never cared before. Being with her made him curious, if not exactly caring.
"Why?" Her voice muffled by the pillow, Sonya lay on her stomach, her back sloping in a creamy curve of bare flesh, disappearing under the sheets bunched around her waist.
Jagger never lay on his stomach. He was too cautious. But looking at her laying that way made him respect her more for it. She was braver than she looked.
It also meant she trusted him. Nobody ever trusted him like that before.
"I dunno," he said at last. It was hard to put such strange feelings
into words. "I just don't seem as pissed off when you're around."
"Small wonder." Her hair flopped over one eye as she pushed up on her elbows to look at him. He wanted to seize her and kiss her all over again, just for looking like that. "I must be getting your rotten moods in exchange. I feel like—shooting something."
"What!" Jagger rolled over and pinned her, seeking the soft skin between her ear and shoulder and nipping.
"Heh. I'm just teasing—ow! You're squashing me!"
He pushed up on his arms to look down at her. "It's called tough love, baby."
"More love, less tough. You're ruffling my feathers."
"I can handle it if you can." And he grinned, realizing he meant a lot of things when he uttered those few words.
"Tell me." She rolled under him onto her back and placed her hand over the scar above his heart. "Why won't you let me heal this scar?"
He covered her hand with his. "I didn't get this fighting anything."
"No?"
Jagger settled down to lie beside her. "I got it when my mother was killed."
"Oh," she said in a tiny voice. "I'm sorry."
He didn't seem to hear her. "Me and Acheron were born demon. Our hearts run backwards. It's what makes us demon. My mom—"
"You don't have to," she whispered.
"Yes, I do. If we're gonna—you need to know what's under this skin." He swallowed. "My mom was on the run. She didn't want Tallon to know about us. I was born in an alley because she kept running, even after she went into labor. I was born, and she held me upside and spanked me, but I didn't cry. I was a demon, Sunny. My father's son. She did the only thing she could. She prayed, and she jammed her finger into my chest, and she willed me to breathe. She stopped my heart. Her prayer restarted it and made it beat the right way.
“She thought the worst was over. But then the contractions got worse. Acheron was breech. He hurt her bad when he was born. She tried to restart his heart, too. But it was too late. They found us. The legion took Acheron and they killed her."
