Claimed by the Demon Hunter 3 (Guardians of Humanity)

by Harley James

  Sydney’s heart froze. What. The. Actual. Eff?

  “In all the time I’ve known him, he’s only lost his head like this once before. That chick brought him amplio, but she wasn’t his soul mate. Maybe this time around, Sydney is.”

  Oh, hell to the no.

  The angel gave Sydney a thumbs-up behind the door frame.

  Ridiculous!

  “Spencer’s been suffering for a while now,” Jessie said, more to Sydney than anyone else. Dammit.

  “Unfortunately, that’s just more proof he can’t protect the relic,” Nate replied.

  “If he’s weak, having Sydney around will be a tremendous boost for him. Even if she’s not his soul mate, she’s good for him. And when one of us is stronger, we’re all stronger.”

  Oh man, really? That was an obligation if she’d ever felt one, all the more guilt-driven because they—well, two of them—didn’t even know she’d overheard the conversation.

  The angel—good gracious, she was curvy and sooo pretty with that head of dark curly hair—winked at her and entered the room, closing the door behind her.

  Now what? She’d obviously never get into the room if the angel didn’t want her there, so Sydney turned around and headed back downstairs to the safe room.

  Once inside, she pulled a large, cozy chair next to the fire. She didn’t feel tired, but she’d probably feel better with some sleep. Hopefully he’d return with her family before dawn. If he came through on his promise to put down this threat to her loved ones, she’d do what she could to help him overcome their common enemy.

  Maybe then life would get back to normal.

  Chapter 24

  If I survive, I’m going to find out just how black Baal bleeds.

  Spencer gritted his teeth, unable to prevent a groan from leaching out between his lips. He held his digestive tract inside his body with his right forearm, opening Inferno’s rear service door with his left, bellowing at Sydney’s family to hurry inside. He was too injured to stream even one of them at a time, so they’d traveled the old-fashioned way. Stealing a passenger van.

  “Mother of God.” Atamu grabbed Spencer as he stumbled against the wall. “The careless fish will be eaten by the shark,” the Samoan scolded, then hollered, “Pepper!” over his shoulder.

  The icy tightness in Spencer’s chest spread up his neck. “I care not for your astute Samoan proverbs at the moment. Uhhh.” He regretted the audible groan, but there was no help for it.

  Sydney’s father helped Atamu ease Spencer onto the stretcher Pepper produced. Spencer gestured weakly to Alroy’s family. “Someone take them to Sydney at once.”

  Clara tried not to cry as she made the sign of the cross over him. “God bless you.”

  Don’t worry, I’m already dead.

  Alroy took Clara by the shoulders and ushered his family to fall in behind a member of Spencer’s security team. He looked back twice. Spencer sensed that Alroy and his two eldest boys knew things were more than they seemed.

  Thankfully the rephaim hadn’t gotten a good look at the Ashbys, and vice versa. Sydney would never speak to him again if he had to wipe her family’s memories.

  So, as long as he didn’t die tonight, moving her family had gone off with only one hitch…

  He’d failed to find her sister.

  He’d looked everywhere Sydney had suggested, plus a few places her siblings put forward. He’d spoken to dozens of helpful homeless individuals and spread cash among the encampments like a Bay Area fog. But it was like Tiana had vanished.

  He needed to get back out there and find her before Sydney decided to.

  Please let her be alive.

  Pepper’s glare was suffused with worry, which meant he looked as bad as he felt. “Sydney had better help you after all you’ve done for her family. Bringing all of them here. I never would’ve thought.”

  “Think I’m getting soft, do you?” A fresh spurt of blood seeped between his fingers, soaking what was left of his rephaim-shredded shirt. He cursed without much ire, shivering, his fire element weakened by all the blood loss. “Have Nate and Jessie arrived yet to take the Ashbys to Minnesota?”

  “They had a situation at Mirage, but they should be back within the hour. Now stop talking, you idiot,” she snapped. “It’ll require every ounce of your strength to heal this time.”

  Spencer caught the look that passed between Atamu and Pepper. They’d been with him for ten and fifteen years respectively, yet he’d never seen that look before. Like two loving parents worried about their child.

  He lifted his head to observe the damage to himself and saw his heart arrhythmically pumping in the unnatural gash between his ribs.

  Atamu shoved Spencer’s head back down. “Going out there alone was a piss-poor decision on your part. I’m never listening to you again.”

  “It’s not like you to whine and nag, Atamu. Now tell me, how long have you two been in love with each other?” He must’ve been a fool to miss it before. If he wasn’t so miserable, he would’ve relished mocking their shocked expressions.

  “You’re hallucinating,” Pepper growled. “Shut up and conserve your strength or you’re going to Hell. Literally, you dumbass.”

  Spencer’s eyes fluttered shut. “The more vehemently you deny it, the more you proclaim it to be so.”

  Pepper and a very quiet Atamu lifted the stretcher to take Spencer up the stairs to his private quarters. Gooseflesh broke out on his body, and every little jostle up the stairs felt like sandpaper on a sunburn. He began to shake, his teeth to chatter. “T-tell them to t-turn up the b-b-bloody heat.”

  “Oh my God!”

  His eyes opened, the sudden blast of color like a knife-jab to his corneas.

  Sydney.

  “Do something! Can the priest help? Will he die? What can I do to help?”

  No one was answering her. Someone should answer her.

  A cough wracked his frame, shooting ice through his extremities, his chest so tight he couldn’t draw a full breath. Threads of fear wove through his consciousness. Don’t want to die. Not anymore.

  The stretcher touched down. Nausea. Someone leaned him up and over to the side so he didn’t choke on his own vomit. Dizzy.

  Sick.

  His own blood coming up, coming out in multiple places. Stomach in revolt, roiling, twisting. Soft pressure on his arm. On his side. Nothing more to come up. Room spinning. Dry heaving.

  “Why aren’t you invincible, dammit!” Her voice, muffled. Scared.

  Answer her—reassure her. But the gagging and choking and cold and the black. The black…Just too…

  black

  Apple blossoms and sunshine.

  Spencer inhaled deeply, then coughed at the stiffness in his chest, his arms reflexively squeezing the softness curled next to him.

  A softness that was warm and moving.

  His eyes snapped open. He blinked rapidly, eyes adjusting to the light battering in through the white shutters and all that silky, red hair sharing his pillow. He lifted the sheet that covered them both. A slow smile spread across his face as other parts of his body awakened.

  I’m healed.

  He didn’t remember the last time he was something other than apathetic about that.

  They were in his bed in his private quarters at Inferno, but he couldn’t tell if it was morning or mid-afternoon. Don’t care. Not when all that stood between his naked body and Sydney’s was her turquoise camisole and black and white thong. She fancies polka dots.

  She’d ceased moving the moment his growing erection pressed into the cleft of her ass. His smile widened. He ran his palm down the curve of her hip and pressed his lips into her hair by her ear. “You laid with me all through the night?”

  Gooseflesh sprang up and down her arms. She was holding her breath, her body tense.

  “You must have, for I am whole again.” He nuzzled her neck, her hair catching on his stubble. “I am singularly grateful.”

  She shivered vigorously, then rolled t
o the edge of the bed to sit up. She pushed at her bedhead, blinking at him in such an engaging fashion he wanted to pretend he was still injured so they could lie-in all day. No demons, no drama, no obligations.

  Just skin on skin.

  A blush stained her cheeks when she noted his please-pay-attention-to-me under the sheet. “Don’t make it sound so intimate. Pepper instructed me that you would heal faster if you had access to my...body.”

  She stared at his bare chest, chewing on her lip and doing a curious shake-nod of her head. “How does that even work? Last night your entire chest and belly were butterflied open, but now you only have one small scar. It looks like a bullet wound.”

  He rolled to his back and laced his fingers together behind his head. She leaned forward to tentatively feather her fingers across his chest.

  No way in Hell was he going to interrupt this.

  Their eyes met, and she frowned, pulling her hand into her lap. “Fine, if you don’t want to tell me.”

  He grasped her wrist before she could stand and move away from the bed. “I was simply reveling in your touch.”

  He rubbed his thumb over her knuckles. It was on the tip of his tongue to spin out a lie, but with her, he wanted strange things. Honesty. Acceptance. “The bullet wound is not what remains of yesterday’s battle, but rather it’s my death scar. Remember?”

  “Oh, yes.”

  The respect in her eyes didn’t sit well. “Don’t entertain any false ideas of my honor. It was an uncharacteristic act in a life heretofore beset with rash decisions and ignoble purpose.”

  “Still, you didn’t have to do it, Spencer. And you consort with angels. That counts for something.”

  Right. Except he was anything but a hero. “Never let Nathaniel hear you say ‘consort with angels.’” As one of the least volatile Unholy Inc partners, Nate was nevertheless touchy when it came to his particular angel.

  Spencer ignored Sydney’s offer of assistance when he scooted to the edge of the bed. He craved her touch, but he had to follow through on his promises. “I presume he and Jessica have already been here to collect your family?”

  “Yes, shortly after two a.m. I’m very thankful.” She moved toward the nightstand with a smile, picking up the new phone he’d given her. “I’ve received probably three dozen texts with pictures of my brothers and sisters playing in the snow. I don’t think I’ve seen all of them this excited at the same time in years.”

  Warmth filled him. “I’m glad to hear it. I shall see to Tiana now.” Before I do something impetuous. Such as rip the clothes from her body and make her scream until it brings every last member of his security team to the door.

  Sydney shook her head as if she’d heard his libidinous thoughts, her open palm spread in front of him to keep him from standing.

  Or maybe to block her view of his raging arousal.

  “Wait. Believe me, I want to find Tiana as soon as possible, too, but I think you should stay here and rest for a little while longer. Raj and Neo have a lead on her that they’re tracking down. Once they learn more, you can join them.”

  Oh, he definitely wanted to stay abed. But not to rest.

  Not even close.

  His gaze raked over her curves once more—because why not make myself harder? Glutton!—then leaned over to swipe his trousers off the floor by his feet. “I shall assist them now.”

  “No. Raj said you’d insist like this. He also said to tell you that because Baal and all the rephaim are so focused on you, you’d be more hindrance than help to them—and therefore to Tiana—in this case.”

  Spencer swore. As right as Raj might be, he didn’t like being told what to do.

  “We have to do everything just right so we don’t make mistakes.” Her gaze cut to the door briefly before turning worried eyes back to him. “Okay?”

  He brushed an errant piece of hair back from her face. “Okay, my darling. Don’t fret so.”

  She nodded, then exhaled heavily, tension easing from her shoulders. “Thank you for keeping your word to protect the rest of my family.”

  Don’t thank me yet. His heart thumped against his recently regenerated ribcage, as she edged closer to where he perched at the edge of the bed.

  “You have no idea how much it means to me to know they’re safe.” She bent at the waist to press her lips feather-light against his.

  Heat poured through him, a slow, inevitable takeover like hot fudge spilled across a table. His fingers claimed the bare skin of her arms, drawing her down as he laid back against a stack of white feather pillows. Her weight against him was utter perfection.

  She shifted, aligning their bodies. Torso to torso, leg against leg.

  As the kiss deepened, her back arched, her legs riding up along the outside of his. They gasped against each other’s mouths as her thong slid against his hard, naked length.

  “Sydney.” He couldn’t abide a gratitude fuck. He pulled her back to look into her eyes, finding his answer when he saw them cloudy with desire. His hands fisted in her hair. “Tell me what you want.”

  Her answer was a slow grind that made her quake in his arms. He angled her to better straddle him as she stripped her camisole from her body.

  His abs contracted as he bent forward, his mouth tasting her breasts, one, then the other, drawing a nipple in, his hands kneading, pulling against her hips to feed her erotic rhythm. Grind and slide, an intoxicating dance, her moans nearly making him come undone.

  Sweat coated his body as her breasts began to bounce with her movements. “Come apart for me,” he whispered, watching passion flood her cheeks and suffuse her neck a fiery rose hue as she broke through the sweetest of barriers. Her cries poured over him, a cleansing. A pushing back of darkness.

  The sheer wonder of it.

  The wonder.

  He could barely breathe.

  Her body curled into his, her lips against his neck. His arms banded around her, bringing their bodies tight as could be, his fingertips sliding under the edge of her thong, running down the center stripe of her ass to press her tighter against him.

  Her lips brushed against his neck, and his eyes squeezed shut.

  “Thank you. I’ve never…gone first. But now it’s happened three times with you.” Another kiss to his neck.

  He pressed his cheek to her head, afraid to move any further. To break the spell. Afraid of what came next.

  Her fingertips slid into his hair, her breath sweet and humid on his neck. “I never knew it could be like that. Being swept up so completely you lose awareness of time and place.”

  Talking about her orgasm was nearly as arousing as watching it break against his body. His erection pulsed, and he fought for calm. He drew breath deep into his lungs. Went inside himself to touch the cord of his fire element. It hummed and vibrated, stirred by her ardor. By what they’d shared.

  Starving for release.

  Not yet.

  He grasped the cord and counted down from ten.

  She leaned up to gaze at him, brushing her thumb across his bottom lip with a secret smile that did nothing to ease his hunger. “I’ve been a selfish lover.”

  He ran his hands through her hair, pulling slightly. “No. Your pleasure is all mine, my goddess. Let’s do that again.”

  But his goddess had other ideas.

  She began to slide down his body, and he nearly gave in. What would be the harm? She could take the edge off, and he wouldn’t be wound so bloody tight.

  But…

  He wanted something to not be about himself. For once.

  He groaned, reaching down to draw her away from his cock. Seven hells! He brought her up to look him in the eyes, instantly contrite at her confused expression.

  “Don’t misunderstand. I want your lips on my body with a desire that rattles me to the core. But my life has been a series of self-interested choices. Never giving of myself without expecting something in return. With you, I want to be different. To be better.” He swallowed, untethered and out of his elem
ent. “Let me shelter you as you sleep. You can’t have gotten much rest as I drew from your body.”

  Her hurt expression cleared, her eyes filling with moisture and something that made his chest expand. She kissed him. A mingling of breath. An awareness. A vulnerability he hadn’t felt since he’d been a child.

  There was trust here.

  He was shaking when her lips lifted away. All at once, she made him weak and stronger than he’d ever been. His heart beat uncomfortably.

  He needed to back away from all the heavy a bit. It was just…so much.

  He buoyed his tone and wiped her eyes. “So, humor me. Allow me to be better. I am an earnest master of all your desires, but right now, I beseech you to sleep.”

  She returned his smile and brushed a quick, sweet kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Is it possible for a master to be earnest?”

  He captured her hand to kiss each finger. “You shall have to find out for yourself.”

  This time it was she who shivered. “I’m lucky to have found you.”

  His heart squeezed, knowing it was the other way around.

  Emphatically so.

  He kissed her again, but briefly this time, tucking her close to his side. “Close your eyes and rest for a while longer. I don’t hear much noise outside in the streets, so it must still be early.”

  Twenty minutes later, her breathing was even, and he thought she’d actually fallen asleep. So, he’d been alone with his thoughts.

  Wild, beautiful, impossible thoughts.

  Making love in a hundred different ways in a hundred different countries. Impeccable wine and decadent food and belly laughs. A white dress and flowing veil. A red-haired little girl riding on his shoulders…

  Sydney’s index finger began to swirl in his chest hair.

  His heart pounded ferociously. She must feel the throbbing for her cheek rested in the valley where his neck met his clavicle. He forced his limbs to relax.

  She cleared her throat. “Do you have...I mean...can you...ah...”

  There was no way she could have snuck into his thoughts. They weren’t bonded in any existential way. Not yet anyway.