by Jenny Penn
“Nobody failed to notice,” Davis assured her, turning Lacie’s scowl in his direction. Apparently, the man could be serious when he wanted to. He did it almost as well as Chance. “And almost isn’t a victory. That’s why we have a problem.”
“I’m not going to let you turn me into your lap dog,” Lacie warned him, almost certain she knew what they wanted. “I don’t care what prehistoric justification you come up with. This is the twenty-first century, and in case you haven’t noticed, women now have access to tools and weapons to even the balance.”
“Not against everything.” Davis’s solemn gaze cooled Lacie’s rising annoyance, tempering it with a dose of reality. “Those men guarding the perimeter aren’t there to make sure you don’t get out. They’re there to make sure nobody gets in.”
“No spectators allowed, huh?” Lacie offered him a hopeful smile, knowing that wasn’t the answer.
“It’s not spectators we’re worried about.” Chance confirmed her suspicions.
Since they couldn’t possibly be worried about anybody she knew, it had to be somebody they knew and wanted to avoid. Given most of the men they knew appeared to be guarding them, Lacie had to assume it was a woman, an ex-something that wanted to ruin this moment.
“So,” Lacie sighed. “What’s her name?”
“Her?” Chance scowled, looking over at Davis for help.
“She thinks we’re about to tell her we dicked around with a psycho.” Davis had a clue and a denial. “That’s not it, honey. I wish it was, well no. I mean that would be better… Chance?”
Lacie enjoyed watching Davis squirm under her increasingly disgusted look. She really wasn’t annoyed with him, but the man deserved to be messed with. So did Chance, but he didn’t look in the mood.
“It’s not an ex-lover. It’s a true enemy.” Chance’s curt statement had her mind flooding with so many questions, but he didn’t give her a second to ask any of them. “Do you know who the Kragen Kings are?”
“The head of the pack,” Lacie answered cautiously, not sure what they had to do with anything. “I’ve never met them or anything, but I know all the clans form the pack and the kings are the leaders.”
“Yes, Konor and Gregor Kragen are the Alpha kings of all lycans in this world who are of Kragen blood.” Chance nodded. “And they believe there is a threat against our unclaimed mates.”
“Threat?”
A cold trickle slithered down her spine at that word. Despite the fact that most lycans went off to war, they lived peacefully in this world. At least, Lacie thought they had, but with Davis looking every bit as grim as Chance, she began to worry.
“What kind of threat?”
“It’s hard to explain,” Davis began in what clearly sounded like an attempt to avoid answering.
“Well, try,” Lacie snapped. Chance held on when she tried to jerk free of his hold, guaranteeing she wouldn’t be escaping this conversation.
“Calm down, Lacie, and listen. You’re going to be all right,” Chance assured her. “We’re not going to let anything happen to you.”
“I’ll calm down when you explain what you mean by threat,” Lacie shot back, not feeling the least inclined to obey Chance’s order. She might be weak but she wasn’t dumb. If somebody was out to get her, she had every right to know the details.
“We don’t know everything.”
“Well, then tell me what you do know.”
Chance clearly didn’t like being ordered to do anything. For a second his fingers tightened over her hand. “The only thing we know is that a demon has taken an interest in unclaimed lycan and werewolf mates.”
Chapter 7
“A demon?” A small slip of hysterical laughter popped out of her. Lacie tried to suppress anymore from escaping and still ask her question with enough sincerity not to get her hand squeezed. “You mean like hell and Satan and all that?”
“No, not exactly.” Chance ruined his reassurance by making it sound much worse. “The creatures we’re talking about exist in shadow worlds. They exist in the flesh of those they consume and can only step into worlds already decimated by their armies.”
“But this isn’t one of those worlds.” Earth might not be the Garden of Eden, but Lacie would have noticed if it was hell.
“Just because they can’t enter this world, doesn’t mean they can’t influence it,” Davis explained grimly.
“How do they do that?” Lacie wasn’t really sure she wanted the answer, not with Chance talking about demons who consumed flesh. Hiding from the truth, though wouldn’t make her any safer. It would only keep her paralyzed with fear of the unknown.
“Demon’s aren’t bound to the flesh the way you and I are.” Chance’s explanation didn’t clarify much. “They’re spirits driven normally by obsessions. A need to dominate, to be feared, or just to inflict incredible horror.”
Davis nodded at Chance’s words, filling in the gaps when Lacie failed to ask any questions. “Their motivations may change, but one thing never does. They hate us, and I mean that as in creatures that can create life. They can’t do that. They can only feed on it.”
“But that doesn’t mean they can’t take physical form,” Chance rushed to warn her, looking almost alarmed at Davis’s clarification. Lacie didn’t know why. It certainly couldn’t be out of concern for her reaction because Chance only scared her worse as he enlightened her on even more neat demon facts.
“Actually, they can normally take many forms, and they can infect almost any living creature.”
“Infect?” Lacie finally found her tongue. Though her mind still fought against what they were saying, she tried to focus through the denial. “You’re talking about possession, right? Like in The Exorcist?”
“What?” Chance scowled down at her like she’d lost her mind. “No. Those kind of possessions are very rare.”
“There’s little need to take an unwilling host when there are so many willing ones around.” Davis smiled sadly down at her. “Sorry, honey. I’m just telling you what I know.”
“Then let me tell you what I know,” Lacie shot back, letting her fear fuel her irritation over being pitied. “I know the two of you are trying to scare me with the idea that there are so many willing hosts—”
“They’re called minions,” Davis offered quickly.
“Or acolytes or disciples,” Chance chipped in. “It depends on their rank.”
As much as Lacie didn’t want to be distracted, that last bit caught her attention. “What do you mean rank? Is it like a bad to worse scale?”
“Not necessarily,” Chance answered slowly, obviously giving it some thought. “Minions can be horrible people and do things that…well, I don’t want to go there. The point is they’re still people. Their soul is their own. It’s just corrupt.”
“Acolytes, though, have given their souls over,” Davis explained the difference. “And disciples have given everything, including their bodies. That makes them the most powerful because they can actually be fully possessed by their masters.”
“And let me take a guess, minions are many and disciples are few.”
“True enough.” Davis nodded. “But all are dangerous.”
Lacie didn’t doubt it or what her mates’ response to that threat would be. “Now comes the part where you explain that I’m weak and you’re strong and experienced. So I should obey your every order, right?”
“You should obey no matter what,” Chance corrected her with absolutely no attitude, which only made his arrogance more striking. “We’re your mates, and by lycan law, your masters.”
“Yeah,” Lacie grumbled. “I see that happening.”
Unfortunately she could. She didn’t know squat about fighting in general, let alone fighting a demon. Still, being reduced to the role of a child chafed. She might not be the strongest, but Lacie had always considered herself smart.
Most of her life, she’d used her brains to figure ways around any physical limitation she might have as a woman. In fact, sh
e thrilled to that kind of challenge. Not this time. This time she was ignorant because she didn’t have a clue about demons.
“It better.” Chance’s tone hardened. “Because we think you might have already been in contact with a person of questionable intent.”
“Questionable what?”
“TJ Carver.”
“TJ who?”
“Let me see if I can refresh your memory,” Davis offered with a dangerous smile before prattling on in a high-pitched whine. “Oh, Mom. He was just the cutest, sweetest hottie.”
“Oh.”
“Oh? Is that all you have to say for yourself?” Chance asked, clearly expecting something more, probably an explanation. Only Lacie didn’t owe him one. She hadn’t done anything wrong.
“I guess I could also point out that it’s none of your business and—”
“Baby, everything about you is our business. Now,” Chance leveled a hard look at her, “let’s talk about this ‘hottie.’”
“There’s nothing to tell.”
“We’ll start with did he introduce himself to you or you to him?”
“We’re not going to start anywhere.” Lacie refused to give in to intimidation, an easy feat given she knew Chance wouldn’t actually hurt her. “I’m not going to fuel your possessive egotism. TJ Carver doesn’t matter.”
“He does,” Chance snarled. “He could be—”
“What? A demon?” Lacie snorted. “I don’t think so.”
Davis caught her chin in a rough palm. Forcing her to meet his gaze, he quelled the words on her lips with the somber intensity in his eyes.
“Why? Because he was nice? Attractive? You can’t go by that. Minions might look normal, even be charming, but they’ll torture and butcher you just for fun. Acolytes like to offer their victims up in sacrifice, and disciples, they’re gifted with the ability to command hellfire.”
“Hellfire?” That didn’t sound good.
“It’s an eternal flame,” Davis explained. “It can’t be doused with water or smothered with a sheet. It consumes its victims all the way to their soul.”
Just the idea of being burned alive made her shiver in terror. Then again, all the options sounded horrible. That had to be farthest thing from what she’d sensed about TJ.
“I understand.” Lacie pulled her chin free of Davis’s grip but still held it high. “But I think you’re wrong about TJ.”
“Just answer one question,” Davis insisted. “At any point when you were with Carver, did you bleed?”
Lacie’s mouth opened instantly to shoot down that absurd question, but before she could start, her memory stopped her short. Snapping her jaw closed, she glared at Davis. “How did you know that?”
“Shit,” Chance muttered, drawing her gaze to his grim expression. “Did he keep any of your blood?”
“Of course not,” Lacie snapped. “You’re making it sound like he amputated a limb. I just scratched myself on his ring. It was barely a nick, a drop of blood, not a pumping geyser for him to fill a bucket with.”
“A ring? What did it look like?”
“I don’t know.” Lacie shrugged, not even bothering to try and remember. “Maybe it was gold?”
“Like a wedding band?” Davis taunted her.
“No.” Lacie shot him a dirty look for even suggesting such a thing. “I wouldn’t hit on a man wearing one of those.”
“So you admit you were trying to pick up a demon.”
“You haven’t convinced me that he was anything other than a cute, sweet, hot-as-sin man…wait, maybe that’s not the best comparison.” Lacie blinked innocently, taking a moment to appear to consider her words. “How about hot enough to make your grandma’s panties wet?”
“That’s disgusting.” Davis instantly drew back in revulsion.
“So hot even the most frigid woman would bend over and beg?”
“You just keep going, honey. Dig that grave deeper.”
“So hot he could seduce a lycan’s mate away and make sure she didn’t even remember his name?”
“And he’s that hot because he’s cute and sweet,” Chance interjected himself loudly into their argument, strangely enough not participating in it. At her look, he nodded like he was some kind of wise man. “See, I know how you women think. Sex appeal is based twenty-five percent on physical appeal. Another quarter goes to confidence, but half of it is all about personality.
“So tell me, did you think you found Mr. Right when he offered you a handkerchief to stop the bleeding?” Chance smiled as her mouth fell open. “Or did you realize he was perfect when he assured there was no need to have it cleaned for him? Or am I wrong and you didn’t try to insist that you’d have it laundered in a veiled attempt to see him again?”
No. He wasn’t. It was almost like he’d been there or talked to somebody Lacie had told all the details to. That would be her mother, from what Davis had said earlier. “Man, is there anything my mom didn’t tell you?”
“Your mom didn’t tell me about the handkerchief,” Chance corrected her. Straightening back onto his feet, he barely paused to round out that answer. “It’s an old trick. One well used.”
“Yeah, thanks!” Lacie’s raised her voice as he sauntered off to the cab. “Great talking to you.”
“He’s got to make a call.” Davis drew her eyes in his direction with that helpful tidbit, as if she couldn’t see Chance pulling a cell phone out of the truck. “You hungry?”
As exhausted and sore as the morning’s activities had left her, Lacie should have been starving. The stress, though, of their conversation had killed her appetite, leaving her more interested in answers than food.
Ignoring Davis as he stretched back to snag a picnic basket strapped to the side of the bed, she pressed for more details. “It’s because of the handkerchief, right? Now you two are convinced TJ is a demon.”
“No way to know.” Davis paused, more focused on undoing the basket’s latch. “At least not until we kill him.”
Lacie shivered, fearing for the first time what he was capable of. “But you don’t even know—”
“Using the ring was a message. It made his allegiance quite clear.” Just as clear was that Davis would not even tolerate the possibility of a threat against her. “Peach?”
Lacie drew back from the sticky, sweet piece of fruit he held up to her lips. “This ring thing? Why do they use it?”
“Same reason we do, to verify our mates.”
Before Lacie could respond with another question the peach slice reappeared to brush a cool, wet kiss over her lips. Left with little choice but to accept the offering, she bit into the thin, rounded skin of the pinkish fruit, the sweet juices bleeding down her chin.
Before she could wipe away the sticky trail, Davis’s head dipped, and with one soft, teasing lick, he cleaned her like they were a pair of cats. Lacie would have loved to see his reaction to that comparison but forgot to speak when he offered her a lopsided smile that showed off a dimple. Amazed at how happy he appeared in that moment, she couldn’t help but stare as Davis’s teeth flashed white as he bit into a peach slice.
A second later it was back at her lips. Giving over to the moment, she took a bite. This time, though, her hand was already in position to pick up any juice. Davis smirked as he lifted it back toward his mouth.
“Spoilsport.”
He sounded just pouty enough to make her smile. So big and hard, but underneath it all Davis was pure sweetness. That personality trait stood in contrast to the golden-tan skin stretched taut enough over his chest muscles that she could see the faint indentions around his veins and tendons as his arm shifted.
“No more licking until you answer all my questions.” Her voice came out husky despite her determination not to be distracted by the lust thickening in her veins. “I want to know why you use the ring. I thought you guys used seers to find your mates?”
“Followed by a blood test to verify,” Davis added before popping a chunk of peach into his mouth. “Seers can
be wrong.”
“I guess nobody’s infallible, huh?” Lacie eyed the jar of fruit, her hunger having returned with the first taste. Maybe she could satisfy two cravings at once.
“Not even us.” Davis offered her the next slice, appearing to almost read her mind.
Lacie took it as she considered Davis’s calm statement. His acceptance of the possibility of failure sent another cold tendril down Lacie’s spine. Desperately seeking assurance, she tried to remind him why he’d win.
“But you’re trained for this kind of thing.”
“No. Not for this kind of thing.” With a hand that trembled, Davis reached up to brush a drying lock of hair back from her face. “We never really had anything to lose before.”
That was as sweet as it was annoying. When she wanted him to be sensitive, he chased her through the fields. Now that she craved the reassurance of his cockiness, Davis was acting all besotted.
“But you have fought demons before, right?” Lacie pressed, as Davis began rooting through the basket again.
“You want turkey and Swiss or chicken and cheddar?”
Blindly snatching the closest tinfoil-wrapped sandwich, Lacie refused to allow Davis to ignore her question. “You know how to kill them and their minions, acolytes, disciples, and whatever other kind of creatures they have in their army. Right?”
Davis hesitated before agreeing, his hands stilling over the crumbled edge of foil. “Yes, but not in this world.”
“And that makes a difference?” Along with knowing nothing about demons, Lacie had a hard time comprehending what the other worlds would be like. Even in her wildest imagination, she’d always pictured places just like Earth. Apparently they weren’t.
“It matters.” Davis nodded at the sandwich lying forgotten in her lap. “You going to eat that?”
“I’m not exactly hungry. About the differences between worlds—”
“You were all upset with us earlier for not being considerate. And here I thought I had an ace in the hole because I went out of my way to pack this thoughtful picnic for my mate.”
