by Angie Fox
He actually smiled.
Joker. I planted my hands against his chest and pushed. “You’re officially mad.”
I took a drop-dead gorgeous griffin, and I broke him.
He cradled both of my hands in his. “I’m supposed to—” he lifted my chin. “Here, look at me.” He edged us into a bright patch of moonlight. Damn the man. He couldn’t have looked more sincere. “I’m supposed to give up the only woman I’ve ever loved, over a few complications?”
Well, when he put it that way…
“I’m not talking about giving up your Sunday golf game to go have brunch with my parents.” Did griffins even play golf? And what would my uptight, society parents have to say about me dating a shape-shifter?
His thumbs traced circles on the tops of my palms. “Ah yes, demons instead of brunch. But love isn’t about what’s easy. I think you would have had an easier time if you’d denied your demon slayer calling, stayed home in Atlanta to teach preschool.”
True. No matter how much I disliked growing up in a family where fitting in and looking good somehow made you a better person—I had to admit, it would have been easier to stay with what I knew, even if it wasn’t what I loved.
Dimitri’s thumbs caressed the hollows of my wrists. “I love you because love to me is about finding the person you want to be with.” He drew me in, kissed me. “And being there no matter what.”
“Through hell and back?”
“Through demons and in-laws.”
He drew my marked hand to his lips and kissed me, right there on the palm. Tears singed the back of my eyes as he caressed the marks.
“Don’t look so surprised.”
I couldn’t help it. He loved me, demon mark and all.
“Now I figure,” he said, kissing his way down my neck. “We’ve got about a half hour before anyone comes looking for us. And I have lots of energy.”
Mmm, happy pings shook me to the core. “What shall we do?”
He used his incredible griffin strength to rip my leather skirt clean up the middle, and then he showed me.
Chapter Twenty-four
He tackled me against the cool rock and kissed me thoroughly. His fingers roaming—oh yes, please—everywhere. They pushed up under my breasts, teased my nipples, circling them, plucking them, sending heat coursing through me until he did the whole thing over again with his tongue.
“E-yow,” I said, nearly banging my head against the rock. “If you’re trying to take my mind off things, it’s totally working.”
“Not well enough.” He slipped a hand down between my legs, stroking me, spreading me until the only thing I could think about was his fingers and where, oh where, they’d go next. His tongue tortured my nipples while he dipped one finger, then two inside me. I moved with him as his thumb rubbed, teased. Oh wow.
I felt his power surge, pure and white. He didn’t stop. Even when I tried to pull him to me, he kept rubbing, kissing like he couldn’t get enough. I didn’t know how long it went on, only I’m not the patient woman I thought I was. It had been too long. We’d been through too much. And I could feel him, hard and ready, against my thigh.
So close.
I wound my fingers into his hair and kissed him hard on the mouth. He pulled me closer, his erection pressed firmly against me. Slowly—ohh, eee—so slowly he ran himself along my slick flesh.
Over and over.
I traced a hard, flat nipple with my finger. “Dimitri.” He had to know this was cruel and unusual punishment.
And still he rubbed against me, showing me every inch of him, letting loose an avalanche of sensation. My entire body shook with the need to have him. Inside me. Now.
Mmm, the things this man taught me.
I twined my arms around his super-heated back, nibbled on his ear. “I want you.”
He chuckled against my neck and flipped me over. “I know.”
Splayed over the flat rock, I reached back and found the slippery tip of him. He groaned as I circled once, twice. He gripped my hand, slammed it against his brick wall of a thigh and drove straight into me.
He filled me to the hilt and I heard myself whimper with the sheer joy of it.
I opened myself to him and felt him fill me up with his strength, his power, himself.
“Trapped between a rock and a hard Dimitri. It feels soo good.” He proceeded to pound into me. He snaked his hands down my backbone, as if he could pull me deeper, push me harder. “There, there, there. Right there!” I dropped my head forward. He’d found the sweet spot. Lord in heaven above.
He gripped my hips and focused on that one spot. Filled it, ground against it, worked it until I was quite sure my legs weren’t holding me up anymore. He was. And he pinned me, pushed me until I came in a blind rush of sensation like I’d never felt before. It swamped me, ripped through me. Sweet griffins, it was almost like floating.
Dimitri collapsed warm and steady against my back. We lay there for a few minutes, spent. At least I was. Dimitri probably had a wicked case of blue balls.
“Hold on,” I said, trying to see if my knees still worked. I rolled out from under him and lay splayed for a second on the rock. Coolness seeped through me. Seemed like we’d really warmed up our section of rock. Dimitri, heavy-lidded with his streaked hair irreparably mussed, shot me a smart-aleck smile.
I lifted a finger to tell him to wait. “I’m going to—ohh.” A late orgasmic ping zipped through me from my sweet spot down to my curling toes.
“Are you all right?” he asked, quite amused for a man in pain.
I nodded, not trusting my voice—or the pings. “Are you?”
He nodded weakly.
“I’m going to take care of you,” I finally croaked.
He laughed and coaxed me into his arms. “Oh, that’s what you were moaning about over there? Well, in that case, you already did.”
“I didn’t notice.”
“You were busy.”
“No kidding,” I said against his sweat-slicked chest. Not minding, for once, that I didn’t have a complete grasp of the facts, or anything else for that matter.
He’d given me everything of himself that he could, despite the cost. I’d make sure it was worth it.
I curled up warm against him, trying not to think about what we had to face—the channeling ceremony, and worse, the demons tomorrow night. Now I’d robbed this beautiful man of his energy and strength, the very things he’d need to defend himself if I failed.
Dimitri’s mouth found my shoulder, the crook of my collarbone. I’d about closed my eyes when he yanked his mouth away and coldness flooded the places he’d just kissed.
A blue light shot out over the ridge and I fought the urge to burrow into Dimitri’s arms and never leave. “Please tell me it’s the Red Skulls.”
Dimitri rubbed my back, as if trying to keep away the chill. “It is.” He kissed me on the forehead. “It’s time.”
Chapter Twenty-five
“Hup, hup!” Grandma ambushed us as we rounded the horse stables. “Don’t tell the Red Skulls about Armageddon.”
Yeah. No problem. It could be our little secret.
Her gray hair tangled in a cloud of Ziploc bags packed with spinning, twirling spells. “Move your keister, Lizzie. You think the Cave of Visions is open all hours like the Taco Bell drive-thru?”
Oh please. I’d been summoning my strength. And sacrificing my new-ish leather skirt. I wound my fingers a little more tightly into Dimitri’s grip.
“Nice outfit.” Grandma waggled her brows at the tunic I’d made out of Dimitri’s black T-shirt. Yeah, well lucky for me, the man needed plenty of material.
I’d told myself I wouldn’t get embarrassed, but the heat crept up my neck and I found myself blushing a dozen shades of scarlet. “I don’t want to hear it.” Not from my Grandmother. Not from anybody.
Where were those dark obnoxious powers when I needed them?
“Frieda!” she hollered over her shoulder, the cabins ablaze with light behi
nd her. “Lizzie needs some underwear!” She turned back to me. “And make it snappy. No grandbaby of mine is going to channel with her whatnots flapping in the breeze.”
A devilish grin played across Dimitri’s features. I dropped his hand and inched my fingers up his sensitive rib cage, enjoying his sharp inhale. Don’t mess with me, babe. I wound my fingers through his hair, ignoring the way the sweat from our encounter made it curl at the ends, and dragged his luscious noggin down to my level. I ran my thumbs along his cheekbones. “Next time you rip my skirt clean up the middle, I’m going to do the same to your drawers.” He was so darned kissable, until his strong jaw twitched into a smirk.
He nipped my lips, sending a ripple of pleasure straight to the part of me that, hm, felt well loved. “That a promise?”
“She needs clothes too!” Grandma added, for the listening pleasure of anyone within a fifty-mile radius.
Oh for the love of Pete. “Can’t you at least try to keep a secret?”
Grandma paused in the middle of coaxing a glittering spell from one of the bags at her neck. “Why?”
Like I could explain the concept of privacy to a woman who spent Saturday nights tossing fart spells at her friends.
Well I refused to be embarrassed. Or at least I wasn’t going to admit it.
A flashlight broke through the moonlight, bobbing as Frieda crunched across the rocky soil, waving a pair of pink leather pants. I’d borrowed clothes from the blonde witch before. Being a demon slayer tended to be hard on the wardrobe.
I could smell Frieda’s cigarettes before I could even get a clear look at the pants. “Grabbed my lucky ones!” She dragged me behind the rough-hewn horse barn, chomping on spearmint gum. She shoved the pants in my general direction. Zippers crisscrossed the hot pink leather.
“Thanks,” I said, reaching for the only pair of leather pants more obnoxious than the snakeskin ones Frieda had on.
The earthy smell of manure tickled my nose and I soon figured out why. I stood uncomfortably close to a pile of the stuff as Frieda showed me how to cram myself into her pink pants. Because they couldn’t have a zipper up the front like every other pair of pants in creation.
“See?” she said, blowing the sorriest looking bubble I’d ever seen. “That there side zipper goes like a vee all around your girly parts, but you don’t want to open that or, well, you’ll be in for a world of hurt. You want to use the side zipper here and then attach it back to the back zipper on the butt.”
My fingers fumbled with the thick leather and stiff zippers. This was worse than sudoku. Finally, I managed to make everything fit, even the matching bustier.
“Tar and feathers.” Frieda pulled a ribbon of black lace from her back pocket. “I forgot the thong.”
I’d noticed that. “Don’t worry,” I said, trying not to cringe. I’d never gone without panties. Ever. But past experience had proven that Frieda’s thongs weren’t much different than going commando and, frankly, I didn’t want to try and get into the pants again. If the witches were ready, so was I.
She glanced up at me through rhinestone-tipped lashes as she started in on my side buckles. “Don’t squinch your forehead like that. You’ll get wrinkles. Besides,” she said, silver hoop earrings glinting in the moonlight, “we’ve got your back.”
“That’s good to hear,” I told her, easing Dimitri’s black shirt over the tight bustier. I’d need all the help I could get.
She slapped the skintight leather on my hips, admiring her handiwork. “Honey, this ain’t my first rodeo. Now watch the armadillos—the petting zoo ones tend to get fat and lazy. And the fish are from Wal-Mart.”
Fish? “Armadillos?” I hoped Grandma wasn’t expecting me to do any magic in there.
Grandma shoved her head around the edge of the barn. “You happy?” She dug at her spell necklace like it was strangling her. “One of the fish just died.”
Was that bad? “What happened?”
Frieda’s eyes widened as she grabbed for her anti-demon quilt bits. “Hurry.”
I followed Grandma to the other side of the barn and found a small armadillo-carrying army. “I know you want to do this,” Dimitri said taking my hand. “But be quick about it. This doesn’t feel right.”
We jogged past the cabins, through the petting zoo, toward a supply shed at the edge of the Wild West town.
“Hup, hup,” Grandma tugged on my black T-shirt. “Wrong direction, slick. That’s the Cave of Visions.” She pointed at a life-sized covered wagon over by the old-fashioned jail. The Conestoga’s wheels sizzled with an unearthly blue current. A blaze of blue smoke trailed up into the night sky and—holy cripes—pearl white snakes as long as my arm slithered in Z-shaped patterns around and under the wagon. Large, flat heads thrust from both ends of the creatures as they hissed, spewing bursts of flame at each other and anyone else who wandered too close.
Dimitri didn’t look happy. “What kind of magic do you think you’re doing in there?”
“What?” Grandma snapped as the witches filed past us. “Do you want to run this thing? I’m trying to give Lizzie the best shot at getting out of this in one piece.”
“By calling up Cold magic?” he thundered. “No wonder you killed the fish.”
I felt a tugging at my mark. Something wanted me in there.
“Cripes. You know a better way to isolate a demonic presence?”
“Yes,” Dimitri snarled. “Smother the Ice Winders. I can cast a protective charm.”
“Wait,” I said. If hissing, coiling fire breathers were on my side, I’d take them.
But naturally, no one was listening. Grandma and Dimitri had eyes—and arguments—only for each other.
“Oh sure.” Grandma threw her hands out like an Italian grandmother. “You’re not giving my grand-baby half-depleted magic. Besides, it’s perfectly safe as long as the demons can’t see her.”
Dimitri shot her a dark look as he crunched past me, inspecting the perimeter of the Cave of Visions. The witches cast long shadows in a circle around us. They moved with military precision, dozens of Red Skulls carrying blue and silver candles.
Grandma nodded to each of the Red Skulls as they lined up. “A little extra juice, in case you need it.”
I’d take all the help I could get.
Dimitri returned, wrapping his arms around me as he tugged me into a long shadow cast by the roof of the wagon. There were dark circles under his eyes. “Keep your grandma busy. I’m going to cast some protection for you,” he said, his breath warm against my ear. I fought the urge to sink into him and nodded instead.
“You’ll be okay?” I didn’t know where he found the strength.
His mouth quirked. “Told you I can handle myself.”
Mmm, I ran my fingers lightly along his bare back. What I’d give for another five minutes in that valley.
“Hello?” Grandma stood next to us.
The air chilled my skin as I stepped away from Dimitri. I really wished he could have gone in there with me. But I could do this. I was the only one.
Grandma clapped me on the back. “Okay, here’s the skinny. I can’t go in there and show you how it works because, hey, the demons would see me. But it’s actually very simple.”
“It can’t be,” I said, as she shoved a jar of guppies into my hand. Last time Grandma tried this, she ended up in the first layer of hell.
“Fine, you’re right. It’s dangerous as a barrel of snakes. You happy? The point is, you follow my instructions and you’re golden. So first, watch the fish. We have three fish for you to take inside.”
“Two!” Bob hollered.
“Oh yeah,” Grandma muttered as I watched the guppies swim circles around the dead fish in my jar. “We spelled the fish to be kind of like those canaries they used to take down into mines. An evil spirit tries to take you, they get the fish instead.”
I gripped the jar tighter. “What was just after us?”
“I don’t know. But that’s what got your fish. Now you have two
left. The last one dies, you run like hell.”
“Got it.” I could do this.
“We’re sealing you in with a circle. A strong one,” she said as the witches moved to surrounded us. I caught Battina in the crowd, Jan, Sidecar Bob. “Also, there’s a goat skull in there that your Great-aunt Evie used to use in her ceremonies. It’ll help you focus your strength.”
“And the armadillos?” I asked, watching Bob scatter Twinkee bits for the nobbly little things.
“Yes! Armadillo tracks. Their back paw tracks have six distinct points, almost like a pentagram. Very powerful magic. You worry about what goes on in that wagon. Light a candle. Focus on Phil and watch the fish.”
“Okay.” I nodded. I could do this.
“Something goes wrong, run. Try not to bring anything out of there with you.” She hooked a thumb under her necklace. “I’ve got a mess of antidemonic spells, but without any wards in place, they’re basically like tossing Pop-Tarts at a pissed-off lion.”
“Don’t worry, I can do this,” I said. I had to do it.
Dimitri took my hand, more at ease than he had been. His eyes burned green in the moonlight. “Ready?” Seemed he’d worked his magic.
No. There were too many things to say and I didn’t have any idea how to go about it.
He squeezed my hand and planted a kiss on the top of my head. “I’ll see you in a few minutes.”
Right. I planted one foot on the back hinge of the wagon and hoisted myself up. My palm radiated power.
Grandma handed me a lighter, a stubby red candle and the guppy jar.
Frieda scooched up next to me, her platform sandals crunching across the rocky soil. She whipped off her protection bracelet. “Deep breaths, sugar” she said, her lucky dice earrings jangling as she rubbed circles on my back. “Those fish die and you get the hell out of there.”
“Hands off,” Ant Eater growled from behind.
“Ease up.” Frieda rubbed faster. “Her circle’s open.”
“What’s that you said?” Ant Eater bent and lit the last candle. The air grew heavy around me as the last wick sputtered to life. And suddenly, I felt very alone.
