Rock Hard And Wet (BBW Paranormal Romance) (Nymphs Of New York)

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Rock Hard And Wet (BBW Paranormal Romance) (Nymphs Of New York) Page 7

by James, Jennifer


  Theo realized that for all his hundreds of years of punishment, what Logan had endured was much, much worse. And all because Theo’d followed his heart and fallen in love with a human. Of course his youth and inexperience had been part of the problem. He’d been new to the patrolling arm of his aerie and arrogant. The surge in his powers that accompanied his transition to adulthood left him with a false sense of confidence. He’d been so sure if a problem arose, he’d be able to return to his perch and stop it.

  Relationships with humans weren’t absolutely forbidden, but they were frowned upon. And yet he’d insisted on keeping her. Sonja. He’d failed the people under his protection. A small band of outlaws swept into his section of the city, pillaging and setting fire to the buildings. So many injured and left homeless.

  The shower turned off, and he rolled into a sitting position. Sorrow threatened to swallow him. Succumbing to Callie’s charms had been a mistake, but the real problem lay in his actions following their tryst in the alley. She should never have accompanied him to his home. The nymph’s presence should have been reported to the aerie as a potential cause for concern. He should have kept up his vigil on the edges of Logan’s watch territory. Even as he was without his wings, humans stood little chance against him in a physical confrontation.

  But other supernaturals posed a problem. Once again, he considered Callie and the danger she was in just by being around him. Booker was right, if she stayed with him, she would die. He’d never hurt her on purpose, but he didn’t have to. Enemies of the aerie waited for a weakness to exploit. And Callie would make the perfect hostage.

  He had to get rid of her before things became worse.

  He surged to his feet, shrugged into his jeans, and padded into the living room. The skin on his back itched from dried blood and the as yet uncured cement on his wounds. Gods, what kind of impulsive idiot was he, making love to the female with bleeding gouges on his back. Why she hadn’t left in disgust, he’d never understand.

  Making love? Shit, he had it bad. She’d wormed her way into his heart in less than twenty-four hours and carved out a corner for herself.

  The door to the bathroom opened, and she emerged in a swirling cloud of steam. Drops of water spun and danced through the air in front of her, coiled up her legs and over her bare arms. She carried the scarf she’d worn yesterday in one hand and clutched a towel to her chest with the other. The magnificent waves of her hair hung down her back in a blue curtain.

  When they made eye contact, his resolve wavered. The brilliant gold of her irises were dulled to a tarnished copper. They stared at each other for moments that stretched on until he turned away.

  He caught her posture changing out of the corner of his eye, saw her shoulders slump and the steam around her disperse into nothing. A few short steps took him to the couch, and he retrieved the bag of clothing he’d purchased for her that morning to replace her ruined skirt and top.

  “Here. I bought these for you.” He thrust the package at her and retreated to the windows on the far side of the room. She accepted the bag, confusion clear in her features.

  The rustle of the plastic and her surprised gasp reached his sensitive ears. The part of him she’d managed to invade smiled despite the tumult bombarding him. He had to end this, now, before it got any worse.

  “Theo, thank you. This dress is beautiful.”

  A shadowy reflection in the glass revealed Callie dropping her towel and shimmying into the long cotton garment. The simple lines complimented her height. He’d chosen a blue-green color on impulse with a halter top that tied around the nape of the neck. Unable to control himself, he pivoted and looked his fill, memorizing the way the fabric clung to her hips and hugged her breasts. The tone of the dress matched some of the streaks in her hair.

  She tugged her heavy tresses over one shoulder and wrapped the simple ties at the waist around her back, and then made a bow with them in the front.

  “What do you think?” Callie twirled in a quick circle and the garment flared out to expose her calves and knees.

  “I think you’re lovely.” The gravel in his voice almost swallowed the words. He cleared his throat. “There’s something else in the bag as well.”

  She opened the handles wider, peering into the bag and gasping before extracting the small gift he’d bought her. Callie slid the sterling silver and gold bracelet around her bicep and turned to present her profile to him. The oval shaped turquoise stone in the center of the simple design matched yet another tone in her hair.

  He’d never see blue again, anywhere, without comparing it to her.

  “This is gorgeous.” The force of her hug nearly knocked him over. He patted her lower back, afraid to return the embrace fully. If he took her in his arms, he’d never be able to let her go.

  “It’s nothing. I ruined your clothes.” A small step back detached her grip. “I’m going to shower. You can help yourself to anything you find in the fridge.”

  She frowned and picked at her skirt, then twisted her hair around her fist. “Okay.”

  He cussed himself out the entire ten minutes he spent in the shower. The water beat on his back and stung like a son of a bitch, but he figured he deserved it for what he was about to do.

  The expression on Callie’s face over her dress, and the way the flow of fabric highlighted her body enticed him, draping over her but giving hints at the gorgeous body beneath almost catapulted him over the edge. Purchasing the jewelry had been a mistake. He’d never learn, but her joy over such a simple gift made the lapse in judgment worthwhile. When he’d spotted it in the store, all he’d been able to think was how it would complement her beauty.

  He wrapped a towel around his hips and avoided his reflection in the mirror.

  He listened at the door for a moment and picked up the distinct sound of pencil on paper. She must be drawing again. He sucked in a deep breath to steel his nerves and strode into his bedroom. The whisper of her charcoal paused then resumed out in the living room. The pull handle on the dresser drawer where he kept his socks broke off in his hand. It took far less time to clothe himself than he would have liked.

  A second of concentration connected him to his brother on their private telepathic link.

  “Brother, I did not know the aerie forced you to witness Sonja’s death. I am sorry. I hope you can forgive me.”

  “Theo? What are you about to do?”

  “What I must.”

  He cut off the link before his brother could argue with him and worked to keep their link closed.

  When he entered the living room, Callie was perched cross-legged on the couch with her sketch book in her lap. A bright grin lit her face when she spotted him.

  “You have to leave, Callie.”

  Her grin faltered and died. She closed her fist around her drawing implement. “Why? I thought you wanted—”

  “What I want is for you to leave.” He crossed his arms and tucked his hands beneath his elbows. The wounds on his shoulders broke open and began to weep blood from the harsh movement. “Now.”

  “But—”

  Her eyes grew wide and a sheen of tears appeared in them. Pain speared his chest, but he forced his face into an expression of contempt and sneered at her. “This is my home. And you’re unwelcome. Leave, now.”

  She untucked her legs and stood with one hand still curled around her sketchbook and charcoal. “Why did you buy me this dress? This bracelet? If you didn’t want me around?”

  “I told you, I ruined your clothes, so I replaced them. As for the jewelry, well, I thought it would be gauche to leave money on the bedside table for you.”

  She gasped and dropped the notebook. “I cannot believe you just said that to me.”

  He widened his stance, hating himself for every second of this, and yet he knew it was necessary. If he loved her, he had to let her go. “Why not? Nymphs are nothing more than the biggest whores in the supernatural community. Everyone knows it.”

  “Theo.” Tears tracked o
ver her cheeks. “This isn’t you.”

  “How would you know? You’ve known me for less than a day.” Holding her gaze almost killed him. She had to believe him, had to leave before he got her killed.

  "For a thousand years, I was one among many. A jewel that sparkled only because of the light reflected from the diamonds around it. But when you look at me, I feel like the brightest star in the heavens." She blinked to clear the tears filling her eyes and swiped at her face. Black smears coated her cheeks, transferred by the dust coating her hands.

  He strode to the door and opened it without speaking, anguish threatening to drown him.

  "Theo?"

  If he didn't get rid of her now, she'd suffer the consequences. Callie needed someone who could keep her safe. Protected. Adored. The dual wounds on his back flared in pain, white hot as the roots of his wings tried to burst through the cement that encased them. Even his body fought him, trying to regrow wings despite the impossibility of the task. If he had his wings, he’d be able to protect her.

  Grotesques watched over the weak. Kept them from harm. Fought evil. He'd failed at the only thing his species valued, and this was the continuing punishment he had to endure—an empty, lonely existence where he was only half the male he should be.

  Arm extended fully, teeth ground together against the whipping lash of pain in his back, he pointed to the hallway. "Get out."

  Chapter Nine

  Callie wandered down the sidewalk with her sketchbook clutched to her chest and her messenger bag stuffed with the shredded remains of her original outfit. She didn’t know why she’d taken the garments out of the trash.

  The agony in her chest ripped and shredded her heart. Breathing tore the muscles in her belly and lungs. Pain ripped through her so hard, she couldn’t even cry.

  None of which made sense. How had this happened?

  She collided with a man coming from the other direction, their shoulders smacking into each other almost turned her around in a circle. The sketchbook flew from her hand and skittered down the walk until it hit the toes of a couple of business women striding toward her. They didn’t slow to pick it up and offer it to her.

  Maybe that was Theo’s problem. Living in this city with all these rude people changed you. But all evidence pointed to a male who harbored his kind nature behind a gruff, scarred exterior. No, he wasn’t mean. At least, not normally.

  “Hey there, gorgeous girl.” The man she’d bumped into held her by the elbow and ducked his head to meet her eyes. “Watch where you’re going. This city is dangerous.” He smiled and flashed small pointed teeth. His green eyes obscured for a moment by cloudy, vertical membranes.

  Callie gasped and froze, afraid to move. “P-please, forgive me.” Of course she’d manage to offend one of the most dangerous beings in creation. Herodes.

  He inclined his head, the light brown strands reflecting the sun in a way that dazzled the eye. She inched forward, caught by the power of the enchantment in his aura.

  “Ah-ah-ah, Callianira.” The light touch of his palm over her face tingled, and when he removed it, the urge to follow him, to obey his every whim disappeared. “Now then, off with you. I need to catch my dinner, and you’re not on the menu.”

  “Thank the gods,” she muttered. Disbelief that Herodes had remembered her after three centuries followed by relief at being released shoved her grief over Theo aside for a moment. The male had never been known for being picky about his food, and the one time they’d met, Poseidon had barred him from the castle. Of course, Herodes had stretched the limits of hospitality by consuming a member of the palace guard.

  “No. Thank the grotesques,” he smirked. “They’ve agreed to let me hunt in their city in exchange for cleaning up a nasty gang of humans that are giving them problems.”

  At the mention of Theo’s people, the crushing weight in her chest returned and she nodded. “Oh. Well, in any case, thank you for not eating me Hero—”

  He cut her off by chucking her under the chin. “Don’t thank me. I’m a selfish creature and am not given to altruism.” He straightened his shirt cuffs. “Your sketchbook is going to be trampled.”

  The book was indeed in danger of being destroyed. She threaded through the people around her to retrieve the item and found herself yanked off her feet and into the mouth of an alley.

  Old moss and wet stone smells invaded her nose. Hard, tight fingers dug into her upper arms. Pain exploded in the back of her head when it collided with the wall. She slumped to the ground, the sticky wetness of blood flowing down the back of her neck.

  A man’s face appeared in front of her, and the cold, calculation in his gaze reminded her of a cobra about to strike. She lay splayed out on the ground, unable to move. Fear surged and boiled, becoming a churning weight that crushed her.

  His irises coated over with the red haze she’d seen in Theo’s eyes. Callie attempted to take a breath, to scream for help, but he clamped his hand over her mouth. Searing, white hot agony erupted from her belly, followed by a horrible, noxious stench.

  The pain increased as he jerked his fist through her torso once more.

  She managed to flail at him, an ineffectual fist bounced off his right shoulder, but he gave it no more attention than he would a bug near his ear.

  “You will not defile the aerie. It cannot be allowed.” He leaned down toward her, his thin lips compressed into a tight line. Weak light reflected from the bare skin of his skull. “I knew he would do it. Disgrace us again. I should have killed him when he was a pup.”

  The scrabble of her feet on the old asphalt blended in with the cacophony of the surrounding city. Callie rolled her eyes to the right and left. They were behind a dumpster. The alley dead ended not far away. She managed a fist with her left hand, pounded him on the back, and tried to bite into his palm. Her teeth did nothing to penetrate his skin. It was too hard.

  This man was a grotesque like Theo. She coughed and gurgled as blood filled her lungs. He must have sliced into them when he shredded into her belly. Muscles in his shoulder flexed and the river of fire in her abdomen increased. He held up his free hand and showed her the long ropes of her intestines before dropping them to the ground.

  “Are you quite finished yet? I’ve yet to catch my dinner. I can’t stand guard all day, you know.”

  Callie knew the voice, but lacked the strength to turn her head or eyes to see him. Herodes. Why had he done this to her?

  The grotesque snarled at him and gave a vicious yank that bowed her spine. More bloody ropes wrapped around his fist.

  “You can eat this thing. Consider it a gift.”

  Tears slid from her eyes and she raised her hand once more.

  Herodes shook his head. “Such a waste.” The dragon gave the male who tortured her a look filled with disgust. “Finish it, Booker. Even I don’t play with my food. I stick to criminals these days.”

  Booker. She knew that name. Theo said Booker had been waiting for him on the roof.

  “Only because we force you to.” Booker stared down his nose at her for a moment, the hatred and venom in his expression so acute if she’d been able to sink into the ground, she would have. A few large puddles of old muddy water stood nearby, but all she managed to do was splash him with a weak spatter. “If our ranks did not dwindle so, I would kill Theo. But I cannot.”

  “I find your vehemence strange, Booker. Are you not a half-breed yourself?” The smell of ash and fire filled the alley for a moment. Callie tried to plead with Herodes, tried to fill her eyes with something that might sway him to help her, but he ignored her. “You have found a place among your aerie.”

  “What would you know about it? The blood in your veins is pure.” Booker surged to his feet and snarled. “You know nothing of my life.” He sank back to his haunches in front of her. The muscles in his chest bunched under his shirt and he raised a hand with elongated fingers tipped with huge claws coated with chunks of flesh. Her flesh.

  Herodes cocked his head to the side
and shrugged. “Perhaps you are correct. It was nice to see you again, Callianira.” He lifted two fingers to his brow in a small salute and strolled away.

  “The aerie must be protected.” The grotesque eyed her with a critical expression. “You are an attractive female. I can see the appeal.”

  In a flash of movement, the claws gouged into her throat, and the tiny amount of control she’d been regaining over her body ceased. A hot gush of blood pumped out of the slashes. Her vision dimmed and faded, Booker’s angular face the last thing she saw.

  Chapter Ten

  Despite the hour and danger of being seen by humans, Theo longed to burst free of the confines of his human skin and climb to the top of the tallest building in the city. If he still had wings, he’d take to the skies and soar on thermal updrafts until frost formed on his body.

  From that height, he’d be able to spot Callie, keep watch over her while she remained in the city. He stripped the bedding off the mattress, brought it to his nose to fill it with her scent, and then threw the wad of linens at the wall.

  The memory of her gathering her things, stuffing them into her oversized purse would haunt him forever. A new, fresh disaster to add to his mental gallery.

  He used his knee to shove the bed back a foot to its rightful place. The entire frame had moved from the force of him yanking the ruined sheets and blanket off.

  Fear stabbed its way into his chest. He crouched and spun in a fast circle. The emotion faded away and he fell onto his ass, confused by the episode. No one else in his apartment. The sounds of the buildings around him were normal.

  The feeling came back again, stronger this time, and then the back of his skull exploded in a flash of torture that sent white light searing across his eyes. He clutched at his head, nauseated and overcome with pain. Confusion and anxiety began to overshadow the sensations swamping him. The pain didn’t belong to him.

  “Logan! Brother!” He opened their link as wide as possible, panic overtaking common sense.

 

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