by E. A. Copen
I’ll tell you everything I know if you haven’t figured it out by the time I arrive.
Milly!
Josiah prepares to scold me as usual except something distracts him suddenly. He is on alert. Pulse and respiration up. There’s a new danger in the room. I run faster and push myself through a small hole into the ground. Josiah? What’s wrong?
All he says is, I’ll call you back, and abruptly disconnects.
Someone else was in the room. No, not someone. Something. It looked human, sheathed in Khaleda’s skin and wearing her shocking blonde hair, but it wasn’t her looking at me. The thing peering out of her eyes was dark and primal, a hunter with one purpose: devour the living.
I stayed, unmoving on the bed, pretending to sleep, my hands folded over my chest to feel my pulse racing. Was it fear pumping so fast through my veins or something else? All I knew was my mouth was dry as the Gobi Desert. I’d have killed for a drink, a smoke…anything to drown in.
She pulled the curtain tight behind her. With slow, hushed movements, she stalked to the side of the bed. I couldn’t see her with my eyes closed, but I tracked the subtle rustle of fabric as she moved. Bedsprings creaked. Weight shifted, pulling me down at first before settling on top, straddling my hips.
“I know you’re awake, Josiah.”
“Am I?” I opened one eye. “I’m not so sure.”
Soft, warm fingers crawled under my shirt, tracing gently over the sore skin of my chest. “How are the ribs?”
“See for yourself.”
Khaleda made a sound deep in her throat, something caught between a growl and a purr, gripped two handfuls of my t-shirt and ripped it open. The fabric tore slowly, the sound drawn out against the heartbeat drumming in my ears. I could feel my neck thumping along with the beat in a building tempo. I’d never had a woman rip off my clothes before, nor had I considered it, but now that I had…
Her fingers moved over my ribs, tracing the lines and circles tattooed there without regard for the bone underneath. She’d forgotten already she was supposed to be checking for an injury. Good thing Ira’d popped by. The winged asshole had finally done me a favor.
She leaned forward and brushed her full lips gently over the pulse in my neck. Not a kiss, not even the promise of a kiss, but just enough to remind me of one. “I sent Reggie to get some things out of his storage. He won’t be back for a while.”
“Sly move.” I slid my hands up her back, feeling through the thin fabric of her borrowed t-shirt. In my mind, we’d moved past this part of the dance. I’d already pushed her to the bed and pulled her pants around her ankles. But that wouldn’t do. Rushing in like a fool may’ve worked in every other aspect of life, but this… This took time.
And turnabout was fair play.
I grabbed firm fistfuls of fabric and jerked them in opposite directions. Her shirt didn’t tear slowly; it ripped in one quick explosion of force.
She let out a small surprised gasp and froze.
I turned my head to whisper into her ear. “Your move.”
Khaleda smiled, leaned back, and shrugged off the destroyed shirt. Her hands went behind her back and unhooked the white bra. Satin straps slid loose on her shoulders. I helped her get it off, so it didn’t bump the injury I’d just sewn up. It was the nice thing to do, after all. It fluttered to the floor.
An instinctual alarm pricked my spine, reminding me that the thing looking down at me with those burning eyes wasn’t human. What I was doing could kill me. But isn’t that how every man wants to die? Better with her than in whatever fiery apocalypse Danny had planned for me. Ecstasy over energy any day, right?
Khaleda leaned forward, hands reaching for the pipe running through the wall behind the bed. Full, round breasts hovered over my face, practically begging to be tasted and teased. I took full advantage until she pushed my shoulders flat against the bed. A braided golden rope was draped between her hands, curling around one arm like a tame snake. Thin tassels hung from one end.
I raised an eyebrow. “Should I be thinking of a safe word then?”
“It’s not for you.” Khaleda shifted her weight lower, pinning my legs in place. “It’s for me. Well, mostly for me. When I tell you, you have to wrap this around my wrists. Can you do that?”
That was a surprise. Not at all what I’d been imagining. “Whatever you say.”
She moved the rope, letting the delicate fabric tassels brush over my chest and stomach. The familiar buzz of magic bit at my skin, gentle, tempting nibbles, all spark and no flame.
“If you don’t, you’ll get hurt,” she said. “You still might. This is dangerous, Josiah. Only way to stay safe for certain is to back out now. Tell me to leave, and I will.”
She took a breath, waiting for me to tell her to go. But I didn’t want her to go. By magic, by a runaway bus, a downed plane, or a succubus, I was dying eventually. Everything was a risk. The greater the risk, the more coveted the reward, and there was no higher price a man could pay than to give his life. No way in Heaven, Hell, or any other plane of existence would I pass on this.
“Stay,” I said and pulled her down to kiss me.
Teeth snapped, biting down on my bottom lip while hands groped, alternating between tearing away more troublesome clothing and feeling for more tender, exposed flesh. Nothing about the exchange was gentle, loving, or full of any purpose beyond carnal lust, a thirst to be slaked. She pushed. I pushed back. It didn’t take much to push her over, onto her back.
She shouted a curse at me and swung to hit me.
I caught her fist. “Does that mean stop?”
Khaleda gritted her teeth, her chest rising and falling with the effort of breath. A dark, dangerous fire burned deep in her eyes. “Did I say stop? Either fuck me or don’t, but don’t waste my time.” She swung with her other fist.
I took both and pinned them over her head. Didn’t stop her from bucking like a wild horse to try and throw me off. She’d never looked so hot as she did fighting me. At full power, she was stronger than me. Even now, if she’d wanted, she could’ve pushed me away. Could’ve snapped every bone in my body if she’d wanted, but that wasn’t what she was after. Just to be sure, I held her with only one hand, pressing her wrists to the bed with little effort. The other hand groped her breast, pinching the delicate, dark bud between two fingers.
She gasped. Her body tensed. Smooth legs stopped kicking and hooked around me, pulling me lower to grind against me. Selfish bitch, even when it came to sex. Two could play that game.
It took some effort, but I pried one leg loose and moved lower to kiss the stitches I’d put in her leg. She hissed in pain, but that sentiment quickly died as I traced my tongue up the inside of her leg and pool my efforts against the slick wetness between her thighs. Fingers curled in my hair, first threatening to rip it out by the roots, then pressing in.
“Bastard!” Khaleda gasped.
I don’t know what she was complaining about. I was the one doing all the work.
Magic snapped at my mind, tugging on an invisible thread implanted in my brain and flowing into her. I felt the energy move like a bolt of lightning in slow motion, burning up from my core, stopping only when I forced myself to pull away.
The deep gash in her leg knitted itself back together. Christ, that was a handy power to have.
Her slap came out of nowhere, sharp like glass. It snapped me out of the momentary stupor and brought me back to the inexplicably infuriated woman in the bed.
The infuriated naked and willing woman.
Don’t waste my time, she’d said. It’s dangerous. Well, time to test that theory out.
I grabbed her and flipped her onto her stomach as roughly as I could. Khaleda tried to move away, but I pulled her to me, shifting so that her back was pressed against my chest, hips tilted slightly so that I was pressed against her opening. I expected more of a fight. More anger and feigned resistance, but instead, she became more pliant, almost relaxing against me.
I smiled against
her ear. “Admit it. You want this.”
“Fuck you.” There she was, the angry, spiteful, spoiled woman who could melt the flesh from my bones and turn my soul to ash.
“That’s the idea.”
“Fuck you,” she repeated, “you narcissistic, entitled—”
I took it as an invitation.
She stopped fighting.
Magic clawed at me, mind and body, trying to pull me away. I snarled at it, a deep animal sound that broke into something more vulnerable. That same primal fear from before bit into my spine, a warning that was lost on my lust-hazed brain. The only thing that mattered was the moment, the pleasure, getting more, giving more, ending. For the first time in ages, I had a purpose. There was a goal to rush toward, something attainable, and it was within reach.
Claws of a different type dug into my neck. My name escaped her lips once as a murmur, and then a second time more desperate. “Josiah, the rope!”
Right. Best not get too into it yet.
I pawed at the rope hanging from the pipe only to find it wrapped around. There was no pulling it down without breaking things up, which I wasn’t keen to do. Easier to just tie her to the pipe. My hands shook through the whole process, partly because the alarm bells were ringing louder in my head, and partly because she never stopped moving, pushing back against me. Her movements had become faster, more desperate, and there I was still fumbling with the damn rope. This was not well thought out, but then, hindsight was twenty-twenty, right?
I pulled the rope tight.
Her wrists shot up, suspended. Her body jerked away from me, moved by the sheer force of the rope. She whimpered and panted, “Need more.”
I was happy to oblige, pulling her hips back to me and meeting her soft, heated need with my own. She let out more desperate cries that built to a quivering crescendo. I expected the magic to lash out at me like a whip, but it stayed contained. Part of me wished for it, the sweet bliss of absolute simple pleasure and powerful magic. I wanted it to break free and consume me more than I’d wanted anything in the world, a need she tried to draw out of me against my will.
Even tied to a wall and completely helpless, she wasn’t mine, and I was poorer for it. At that moment, Khaleda was the most beautiful creature I had ever laid eyes on, and I still wanted to bathe in her magic more than I could ever want her. It was all I wanted until the fire of that need burned my mind and body to ash.
Chapter Twenty-Four
KHALEDA
Josiah’s mind was an endless empty hallway of locked doors, and I had the key. A ceiling of stars hung above. Tangerine clouds clashed against a sapphire sky, an angry swirl of dizzy color.
My footsteps echoed through the hall as I moved, fingers running over the unlabeled doors until one creaked open under my touch. I stepped into the room and found myself inside a memory caught on replay.
It was a bedroom in an upscale apartment not so unlike the one Danny had trapped us in. Blood soaked the white sheets made of Egyptian cotton. The bed had strangely been moved to the center of the room, away from the headboard. A circle of vaguely familiar faces stood around it, holding hands, chanting. I took a breath and breathed in blood and magic.
The body of a woman lay on the bed opened from ribcage to pelvis. Wet, slippery strings of her spread around her body like a bloody aura illuminating pale skin. Empty eyes stared in frozen horror at the face of a monster. Tall and muscular, dark hair curled down over his shoulders. He spread his hands wide and black wings sprang into being behind his head.
A sudden cry made me look down to find a squirming child in my arms. She was covered in blood and so was I, up to my elbows. Nauseating pain settled in my gut. It lasted a moment, just a flash in the pan before the pain erupted into rage. No, rage wasn’t even a strong enough word. Loss, pain, anger, and betrayal all wrapped into one burst of murderous intent that ripped out of me to become a living thing. It shot through the room, devouring the nameless human shapes in a fire so hot, it burned the air away.
Still, it wasn’t enough. If I’d had the power, I would’ve resurrected every one of them and burned them away again and again. Instead, I burned their ashes to nothing.
Another presence filled the room, one I couldn’t see or hear, but that was impossible not to feel. Josiah was suddenly there, pushing me out of the memory and back into the hall. The door slammed shut in my face. Chains snapped into place, held by two padlocks. An iron grate crashed to the floor over the door and bricks laid themselves, sealing it beyond reach.
Another door opened behind me. I walked into a dark room, another bedroom. Sleeping bags covered the floor between two sets of bunk beds, leaving only a narrow space to walk. The memory led me to one of the lower bunks where a younger version of Josiah lay on his back. A younger version of Danny Monahan curled up against him, one arm thrown over Josiah’s bare chest, eyes closed, resting peacefully. Josiah lay awake, staring at the bunk above, running his fingers gently over the side of Danny’s face as if he were comforting him.
“We should leave,” Danny murmured into Josiah’s chest. “You and me, Joey. Just go.”
“And where would we go?” Josiah swallowed and shook his head. “Christian is right. The rest of the world doesn’t get it. They don’t get us. There’s nowhere we can go together, Danny. Nowhere but here.”
Danny shifted, sitting up just enough he could look at Josiah. He touched Josiah’s chin. “You don’t want to leave Evette. You love her.”
Josiah was quiet for a moment. “Do you think someone can love more than one person at the same time? Or is that too greedy? To want it all?”
He leaned in to kiss Josiah, long and passionate. When they parted, Danny whispered, “I’d give you the world if you wanted it. I can’t give you Evette, but I can give you me. Everything I am, everything I have. For as long as you want me.” His kisses trailed down Josiah’s body before Danny disappeared under the blanket.
Josiah drew in a breath and closed his eyes. “I want everything.”
Sadness hit me, regret as heavy as the building Josiah had dropped on himself.
Stop it. I reached for the memory and found a wall blocking me. You don’t have to hurt anymore. It’s not your fault.
I could take the memory, steal his pain, and make it mine. It would forever be gone from his mind, a burden for me to bear instead. A gift from me to him.
But if I did, he would have to relive it one more time, the entire memory in all its sensory detail. It would break him, heart and mind to lose it. Even through the wall, I could feel that this was it, the memory that sat at the center of his being, the one that had formed him more than any other. When he woke, this was what made him get out of bed. This pain was so inextricably a part of who he was that he couldn’t exist without it. I could no sooner take it away from him than I could rip out his beating heart.
The ground quaked and rolled, pushing me back out of the room. Thunder shook the walls, and lightning cut the sky in two. Foreign magic rained from the sky and yanked me from his mind.
And then suddenly I was back in my body, my power simmering around me in invisible waves of heat. Strange and unfamiliar magic surged around me, icy and sharp against the smooth heat of my own. The two powers snapped at each other like snakes, striking, intertwining, wrestling for superiority.
I strained my wrists against the magic rope binding me, limiting my strength. My heart was pounding so hard it hurt. We had to stop. I was losing control, even with the rope. If he pushed me over the edge now… The beast woke again, and she beat against the cage, rattling the bars and roaring to be set free. I couldn’t fight her and him at the same time.
“Josiah… No, don’t!”
But it was too late. We’d already passed the point of no return.
Climax broke over me in a flood of pain and ecstasy. Muscles tensed and released, unable to do anything but quiver uselessly. Hot kisses coated my back, the slick softness of his tongue darting out to lick up the sweat. His icy magic slipped thro
ugh rough, calloused fingers to caress my neck. It should’ve hurt, the prick of a foreign power so cold, but I was so lost in the haze of satisfied lust that every touch was just more pleasure.
I couldn’t move. I couldn’t fight. Helpless. He could do whatever he wanted, and I couldn’t stop him. That should’ve been terrifying, but instead it was freeing.
Teeth grazed my shoulder, then sank in, just short of breaking the skin. A sound vibrated out of his chest, morphing into a desperate curse. His fingers squeezed tight, one on my hip and the other gripping my breast so hard it might’ve left a bruise. I cried out, my skin still on fire from the touch of whatever magic burned around him, and he gave up his fight. The sudden spill of heat against all the cold inside left me shocked and breathless.
We stayed like that for a long moment, just catching our breath, willing muscles to stop trembling. Then he kissed my jaw, almost tender.
This had to end. If it didn’t end here and now, I might start to like him, and it couldn’t become that. I could never have that.
I turned my head toward him. “You going to untie me?”
“I’ll consider it.” He kissed my shoulder.
I shrugged his face away. “Untie me, asshole. Now.”
Josiah made a frustrated sound. “You’re a real bitch, you know that?” He tugged on one dangling end of the rope, and it released.
I twisted and pushed his weight off me so I could climb out of bed before I changed my mind. “And you’re still a prick.”
The ruined remains of my clothing lay around the room. I picked the pieces up one by one and infused them with a small spark of power, willing the threads back together enough to cover the essentials. The rest, I’d take care of when he wasn’t staring at my ass.
“Is it so awful to admit you enjoyed it?” He reclined on the bed, arms folded behind his head and that smug expression on his face like he’d won some major victory. “Just say it.”
“You want me to thank you?” I gagged. “Do you hear yourself? I’ve met some narcissists in my day, but you… You’re something else entirely.” Come on, Josiah. Let it go. Let’s just go back to trading jabs and icy, hateful stares. I can’t do this.
