Demons & Djinn: Nine Paranormal Romance and Urban Fantasy Novels Featuring Demons, Djinn, and other Bad Boys of the Underworld

by Christine Pope

  “‘The voice,’” he repeated. Nothing in the calm, even set of his features told me what he was thinking, and so I could only stand there in agony, wondering when he was going to let go and back away from me. Away from the crazy woman.

  Somehow I managed to stand there, waiting.

  “You’ve been blessed, I think,” Jace said at last. “Some guiding spirit looked down on you and knew you were worthy, that you needed to survive.”

  Relief washed over me. So he didn’t think I was crazy. Then again, although I’d never much believed in such things, I guessed that his people thought differently. The dividing line between our world and the world of the spirits was definitely thinner for them.

  “You really think that?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. Up until that moment, I hadn’t realized how important it was that he believed me.

  “Oh, yes,” he replied, pulling me closer to him, his lips finding mine. “So let’s make sure our survival matters.”

  Chapter 14

  Dinner was…well, dinner was wonderful. It might have only been left-over sausage and sauce out of a jar, leavened a little by some zucchini from the greenhouse that I steamed to go along with the pasta, but I might as well have been eating at a five-star restaurant for as exhilarated as I felt. Jace had kissed me. Jace wanted me, had only been holding back because he didn’t want to pressure me or frighten me off.

  Some people might have said it was inevitable, that if you put two healthy, attractive people of the same sexual orientation in the same place, sharing the same home, eventually they’d end up together. Propinquity, or whatever they called it.

  I didn’t believe that for a second, though. There were plenty of guys I’d known over the years who, if they’d shown up on my doorstep the way Jace had, I could’ve lived in platonic harmony with and never had the slightest inclination for anything more than a quick hug on a birthday or something.

  Jace, on the other hand…well, I’d been thinking how hot he was from the first moment I laid eyes on him, even as I was confronting him at the gate to the compound, shotgun in hand. That sudden, unexpected flare of admiration had shifted into attraction as the days had gone on, and now was…what?

  Far more than simple attraction, even if I was too scared to put a label on it right then.

  He’d opened a bottle of wine, some more of the Black Mesa Montepulciano, which, as it turned out, was also a New Mexico wine. I’d been so rattled when I arrived at the compound that I hadn’t even read the label that closely. It did go well with the simple meal I’d prepared. More than that, it gave the evening a sense of celebration, that this was just the beginning of something far more.

  Was I ready for that? Yes, I’d been dutifully taking my pill every night, knew I’d be protected in that way, if nothing else. Maybe I should’ve been worrying whether Jace had packed some condoms as part of his “surviving the apocalypse” kit, but for some reason, I didn’t think that was necessary. He certainly didn’t give off the man-whore vibe. It should be fine.

  “Dollar for your thoughts,” Jace said, and I startled, knowing I could never tell him I’d been pondering contraceptive options. By then we were winding down, only a few bites left on our plates.

  “A whole dollar?” I teased, glad that we were eating by candlelight. With any luck, he wouldn’t have noticed the way the hot blood rose to my cheeks.

  “Well, a penny’s probably worth more than a dollar now, since at least you could melt a penny down and get the copper out of it.” He set down his fork and leaned forward slightly, a smile touching those full lips, the ones that had felt so delicious when pressed against mine. “But your choice.”

  “I — I wasn’t thinking about anything in particular,” I said.

  An eyebrow went up.

  “Seriously.” I lifted my glass of wine and took a quick swallow.

  The other eyebrow went up.

  Oh, boy. I could stall and I could hedge, but it was pretty obvious that Jace would see through any of those machinations. “Okay, fine,” I told him, setting my wine glass back down and taking a breath. “If you have to know, I was thinking about whether you’d packed any condoms when you bailed out of Taos.”

  He let out a breath, both eyebrows still raised. “You don’t beat around the bush, do you?”

  “Well, you asked.”

  For a second or two, he didn’t say anything, only looked at me. I tried not to blink or glance away, but damn, that was hard. My cheeks felt like they were on fire.

  At last he said, “No, I didn’t. Sorry…I guess I was thinking more about the world ending or something than whether I was going to get laid in the near future.”

  I winced, and he shook his head as if exasperated with himself.

  “Jessica, I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant.” His hands flattened on the tabletop, as if by exerting pressure against the cool copper surface, he could take back what he’d just said. “That is, if we — if we were together, I think you know it would be a lot more than just getting laid.”

  My heart seemed to start beating again. “It would?”

  “You know it would,” he said, his tone quiet, but no less intense for all that.

  I smiled at him. “It’s fine. I’m on the pill.”

  After that…well, I’m still not sure who moved first, but almost in a single motion, we were on our feet, pushing our chairs away from the table, Jace reaching out to take me by the hand. He pulled me into him, kissing me, his mouth sweet with wine. I felt as if I could never get enough of tasting him.

  But he broke the kiss after a few seconds, leading me down the hallway to my bedroom. He’d never been in here before, of course, although I left it unlocked most of the time, except for the occasions when I was getting dressed. Since Dutchie liked to wander between our rooms at night, I didn’t have the heart to shut the door. Because of that, though, I always kept it tidy. I knew I didn’t have to worry about Jace tripping over a discarded bra or something when we entered.

  It was cold, though, away from the fireplace in the family room, which did a pretty good job of heating the dining room as well, since they were right next to each other. Jace let go of my hand — with some reluctance, it seemed — and asked, “Okay if I get a fire going?”

  “You already have,” I said, smiling, but I nodded. “We could use one. It’s probably going to get below freezing tonight.”

  He went to the fireplace and began expertly stacking some logs within it. We were burning a lot already, but I wasn’t too worried. The house had an enormous log room built on the north side, with wood stacked almost to the rafters on every wall. Jace had taken one look at the stockpile and said we could have fires in every room through July if necessary.

  So I allowed myself to enjoy the warmth that began to spread through the room after he got the fire going, and not fret over whether we were going to run out of wood halfway through the winter. And I’d be lying if I said I didn’t also enjoy watching the way Jace’s jeans hugged his backside as he bent over, coaxing the fire to life.

  Afterward, he turned around, then came over to me where I sat on the foot of the bed. “Better?”

  “Yes,” I replied. “Although it’ll probably still be smart to get under those covers quickly.”

  “I can help with that.” His fingers tugged my shirt loose from the waistband of my jeans, then undid my belt buckle. At the same time, I was working at his belt as well before undoing the buttons on his faded Levi’s. I hooked my thumbs through the belt loops of his pants, easing them down. I could tell he was already aroused, the bulge in the dark gray boxer-briefs he wore evidence that stopping to get the fire going hadn’t put him too much off his stride, so to speak.

  He stepped out of the jeans but didn’t let that distract him from pulling my T-shirt up and over my head. After dropping it on top of his jeans, he reached down and undid the front clasp of my bra, releasing a long, drawn-out breath as his hands closed over my bare breasts.

  I gasped, clo
sing my eyes as he caressed me, fingers sliding over my skin. Then he was tugging at my jeans, getting them out of the way, and I stepped out of them, letting him lead me over to the bed. With one hand, he yanked back the covers, and I collapsed onto the mattress, bringing him with me, bare skin to bare skin, our mouths finding one another in the fire-lit darkness. The sheets were icy cold, but I hardly noticed.

  Because oh, God, he was reaching between my legs, stroking me as his mouth closed on my nipple. My heart was pounding, my breath coming in great, heaving gasps. I had done all these things before, but never with Jace. And it had never felt like this with anyone else.

  My own hand moved lower, touching him, wrapping around him, feeling the heat and the strength of his arousal. He moaned as I touched him, the sound seeming to reverberate through every inch of my body. Or maybe it was just the approaching wave of the orgasm that I could feel bearing down on me, building up until I couldn’t do anything except allow Jace to touch me, to flick his tongue against the bud of my breast, and then it tore through me like a swollen river breaking down a dam, my voice calling his name, my body heaving against his.

  Yes, it had been a while, but it was more than that. It was Jace, all of it — the way he’d made me come, the way I felt as if I had been some strange half-alive being before this, hiding in the darkness until he brought me into the light.

  Then he was shifting, moving, and I could feel him pushing against me, against my entrance. I’d never wanted anything more than I wanted him inside me, filling me. “Please, Jace,” I breathed.

  That was all he needed. In that instant, he was there, in me, moving deeper and deeper as I rocked my hips against his, drawing him into me, our bodies locked together, finding the rhythm, the perfect push and pull of man and woman, Jace and me. I clung to him, one hand moving up to clutch his neck, feeling the leather cord that held his hair back. One tug, and it was loose, his raven hair spilling over his shoulders, brushing against my cheek, and that was it, the last push I needed. Crying out, calling his name, gasping, my body convulsing against his, and then I could feel him let loose, heard him groan, his hips driving him into me, my legs wrapped around him, until finally he stilled, went quiet, his mouth by my ear, my name a soft breath in the silent room.

  “Jessica….”

  We lay there for uncounted moments, flesh to flesh, drinking in each other’s warmth. Finally, he shifted, pulling away from me, but only so he could lie on his side, his chest touching my arm, as if he didn’t want any real distance to come between us. I understood the feeling all too well. In a moment, I’d have to force myself out of bed and go to the bathroom, get myself cleaned up, but right then I only wanted to be next to him, to breathe him in, to reassure myself that he truly was real, that this actually had happened.

  He reached out and pushed a strand of hair away from my face. Such a tender gesture, so different from the wild abandon of a few minutes earlier. Because the room was so dimly lit, I couldn’t precisely decipher his expression. But I definitely wasn’t expecting what came next.

  “I love you, Jessica.”

  Out of nowhere. Or not nowhere, not really. I could have seen those words in the way he looked at me when he thought I wouldn’t notice, in how careful he was to listen to my suggestions…in the very reticence that had kept him from making a move until he was certain it wouldn’t be rebuffed.

  And because he’d been brave enough to say it first, I didn’t hesitate. Not now. I’d been denying this to myself, coming up with reasons why it couldn’t be true, but there was no point in denying it any longer.

  “I love you, Jace.” It was true. I knew it, accepted it, let my heart and mind and soul become open to the idea. I loved Jason Little River. The sound of his voice. The crinkle at the corner of his eyes when he laughed. The long, strong fingers of his hands. The way he asked for my opinion on things and never made me feel foolish for not knowing as much as he did about raising animals or gardening or…well, most things. I’d led a sheltered life, while I got the impression he hadn’t. His hands were beautiful, but they had the calluses and scars of someone who hadn’t spent his entire life behind a desk. I supposed that was from the time he spent at the pueblo, even though his own start-up business had involved computers.

  All these details and contradictions, all the elements that made Jace uniquely Jace…they were what made me realize I loved him. And, by some miracle, he loved me in return.

  He pulled me against him, and I burrowed my face into his chest, breathing in the warm, delicious scent of his skin, hearing his heart beat, strong and sure. I couldn’t remember a time when I’d been this happy.

  Happy. Was I allowed to be happy, when most of the world was gone?

  I didn’t know. I tried to tell myself that my parents would have wanted me to be happy, that they wouldn’t have wanted me to wallow in sorrow for the rest of my days, just because they were gone. But even in the warm afterglow of our lovemaking, of hearing Jace say that he loved me, I couldn’t help feeling a twinge of guilt.

  He pushed a lock of hair away from my face, trailed his fingers across my cheek and down to my mouth. I pressed my lips very softly against his forefinger, and he smiled. But then his expression sobered, and he gave me a very direct look.

  “Don’t do this to yourself,” he said.

  “Do what?” But I was pretty sure what he meant.

  “You can’t beat yourself up just because you’ve found some happiness in your life. The Dying wasn’t your fault. All you can do is live your life to the best of your ability, make your survival mean something.”

  The Dying. It was the first time I’d heard him use that phrase, but it was apt enough. Because that was what had irrevocably changed the world… all that death.

  “I know,” I whispered. “It’s just sometimes…it comes rushing over me like a wave, you know? I put it aside, and I’m fine, because I’m here with you, and I know we’re safe, but….”

  His arms went around me, keeping me close to him, close to the security of that strongly beating heart and the soothing warmth of his flesh. “I know.” The words came in a murmur, gentle. “You’re stronger than you know, Jessica. It’s human to feel doubt and worry. But…don’t let it get between us. Please?”

  There was a note of concern in his voice that I hadn’t heard before, and I shifted so I could look up into his eyes. “Oh, no,” I told him then. “I’ll never let anything come between us.”

  We slept in each other’s arms that night, and awoke to a chilly morning where the roof of the garage was white with frost. The fire had guttered down to coals, and Jace wrapped one of the blankets around himself as he got up to set new logs in the hearth and get a fresh blaze going. Dutchie watched all this with approval; it looked as if she hadn’t moved since she curled up in front of the fireplace the night before. I got the distinct impression that she was happy with our new sleeping arrangements, since it meant she wouldn’t have to split her time between Jace’s and my room anymore.

  Even with the fire going, I was loath to get out of bed. But I wasn’t a city girl any longer; I needed to get moving, shower, check on the goats, start breakfast. All these things were speeded up by Jace and me sharing the shower in the master bath, which was roomy enough that we fit quite nicely. Okay, we didn’t save quite as much time as I’d thought, because we got lost in lathering up each other’s bodies, running soapy hands over bare skin, until I was pressed up against the wall and he was inside me again, one of my legs wrapped around him, holding him in place while he thrust into me. We had to clean up all over again afterward, but it was worth it.

  At last, though, we got out of the shower — mostly because the hot water heater began to run out of steam — and got dressed, then dried our hair. A pang went through me as he fished another one of those leather cords out of his pocket and began winding it around his hair.

  “Don’t,” I said, and he turned toward me with a quizzical look.

  “Don’t what?”

 
“Don’t tie it up. I like it down.”

  A slow smile spread over his lips then, and he shrugged and shoved the cord back into the pocket of his jeans. “Okay. But if it starts getting in my face when I’m out in the wind — ”

  “Then okay, you can tie it back again.” I went to him and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “I’m not totally unreasonable, you know.”

  “Oh, I know.” He gave my own ponytail the side-eye, and I couldn’t help laughing.

  “Yeah, do as I say and all that.”

  We went out to check on the goats before breakfast, our breath puffing up into the icy air. They seemed all right, but Jace looked at the frost on the ground and shook his head.

  “We need to get them some kind of protection from the cold. It’s only going to get worse after this, and when we have our first snowfall….” He didn’t bother to finish the sentence, but I knew what he meant. Our little herd needed someplace to go.

  “So what are you thinking?” I asked, looking around the walled-in landscape. From within the chicken coop, I could hear the hens clucking away happily. It was obvious they hadn’t suffered too much from the cold.

  “It doesn’t need to be fancy, but some kind of shed, someplace where they can go inside if they need to. The henhouse went together pretty quickly, so I’m sure I can do something like that for the goats, too.”

  I saw another foray to Home Depot in our near future. We’d stocked up on food just the day before, but if we were going to Santa Fe anyway, I was going to put in a request to raid an outdoor gear store or something similar. My outerwear definitely wasn’t up to snuff, and I had a feeling that adding some thermal underwear to my repertoire wouldn’t be a bad idea, either.

  So I asked about that, and Jace nodded. “I could use a few things, too. So we’ll do that first, and then we’ll go the hardware store. I need to check the library here, though — I’m pretty sure I saw a book with plans for different kinds of outbuildings, and that’ll help me figure out how much to bring back.”