“I have no intention of fucking you,” I lie.
God… All I want to do is have my way with you.
As much as I want him, I need to be the one who decides when and where it happens. If I give him that power, I’m done for.
He smirks at me, a playful charm about him, and it’s obvious he’s aware of the power struggle going on in my head. The question is… Who’ll break first?
“Oh, I beg to differ, Miss Rayne.”
“Alexis,” I correct.
He locks his fingers together, his golden eyes making him look like a wild animal. “While I find your first name rather pleasant, you aren’t quite ready to own it.”
I laugh out loud again—so loud this time that the painting next to my face shifts positions. “What the hell’s that supposed to mean? It’s my name.”
“Since when?”
He knows how this works, which leads me to wonder: how many identity changes has he gone through? How old is this guy?
“What does it matter?” I say.
He shrugs nonchalantly, making me want to grab him by the collar and shake him. “I suppose it doesn’t. It’s quite a shame you aren’t living up to your full potential.”
Is this guy insulting me? I part my lips to give him a piece of my mind when he raises his open hands to his perfectly chiseled jaw. “I mean no offense, Miss Rayne. I can see a fire in you, yet I can also see that something is choking it.”
Choking me? Mmm. You can choke me anytime, big boy…
“What are you, a therapist?” I hiss. “’Cause I already have one, thanks.”
Although I’m fuming inside, I’m also vulnerable and confused. For the first time in centuries, it seems like someone sees me. It’s an awful feeling—as if he can see all my weaknesses and has zero issues exposing them for what they are.
Clearing his throat, he reaches for a bottle of gel, squirts it into his palm, and rubs it through his wet hair. The cool, crisp scent fills the room and I breathe in a bit longer than necessary. “I should get changed,” he says.
With that, he releases his towel and it falls to his ankles.
The moment my eyes roll toward the precise area I’m trying not to think about, I suck in too much air and cough out what feels like an entire lung.
“Are you okay?” he says smoothly, staring at me as if being half-naked is normal.
I avoid glancing his way again and instead turn toward the window. “I’m fine. Hurry up and get dressed.”
Although I can’t see him, I can feel his enticing smile directed at me, and I can see him clearly in my mind now… All of him.
He’s throwing you off your game, Alexis.
Maybe it’s time I do the same to him.
Chapter 20
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Crossing his arms, Ace stares at me until I cave.
“Fine! But I swear to Hera, if you get me mixed up with some fly and fuck up this perfect physique—”
“It doesn’t work that way,” he assures me. “I’m not some teleportation machine. The magic won’t jumble you up into millions of pieces and reconstruct you. My magic allows you to travel through a dimensional portal.”
It still doesn’t make sense to me, but the only way out of this place without getting scorched by the dragon is to disappear, and as it turns out, Ace can project his teleportation abilities onto other people.
“So, all we have to do is touch?” I ask.
“Exactly.”
He’s calm, collected, and effortless when he speaks. Is this why I can’t stop thinking about him? He’s the polar opposite of me, and it’s almost as if our energies are meant to fuse like two puzzle pieces. Mine’s chaotic and overbearing, and here he is, acting as if everything is going to be fine even though two of the most powerful items on Earth have ended up in the wrong hands.
He smiles down at me, his plush lips rising higher on one side, and it takes all my willpower not to kiss him.
“Are you using your Lure on me?” I ask.
“My what?”
Lure is the term I use for my seduction. I suppose it makes sense that he’d have his own terminology.
“Are you using magic to seduce me?” I say. “I told you to stop.”
“I obeyed,” he says.
I elevate my chin. “Do you like to obey?”
Excitement flashes in his eyes. “I suppose it depends on who’s giving the command.”
What the fuck is he doing? It’s like he’s toying with me.
Without another word, he moves toward the bed, bends down, and pulls up what appears to be a weapons chest.
“What’s that?” I ask.
With a naughty smile that translates to, You’ll see, he lifts the cover and reaches inside.
But I’m too curious to stand around and wait, so I march toward him and peek into the box.
Stakes, blades, katanas, nunchucks, crossbows, and even pistols.
I’m immediately reminded of the crossbow I stole from Jamieson and wish I’d taken it along with me. Something like that would be useful right about now.
“I see you’re prepared,” I say.
“Always.”
As I lean forward, inspecting everything his weapon’s box has to offer, I breathe him in. I can’t get over how delicious this man smells. Demons aren’t known for their pleasant fragrances. Then again, I’ve been told I smell like roses, spearmint, and ecstasy, whatever that means. It must have something to do with being a succubus. Our livelihoods depend on our ability to seduce people.
Although I don’t look at him, I can sense him observing me.
“Do you have any idea how dangerous you would be if you allowed yourself to bloom toward your full potential?” he asks.
Slowly, I turn, our faces inches away from one another. His lips, plush and carmine red, are silently yelling at me to touch them with mine. What I wouldn’t do to scrape my nails through that sexy stubble of his.
“Why is this happening?” I breathe as if under a hypnotic spell.
He smiles. “Because you’re weak.”
Taken aback by his words, I’m shaken out of my trance. “Excuse me?”
“Like I already told you, Rayne, I mean no disrespect.”
“My name’s Alexis, and so we’re clear, you are being disrespectful.”
He smirks, clearly amused by my aggravation. “Your name might be Alexis, but it doesn’t suit you. At least, not yet.”
This guy is getting on my last nerve. What’s up with his code language? It’s like everything he says has some big secret meaning behind it.
Clenching my fist, I raise it by my face, prepared to bash in that sexy mug of his. “I’m anything but weak.”
He doesn’t flinch or pull away. His eyes roll from my fist to my eyes, to my lips, and then my body.
Is he checking me out? Or is he sizing me up? What the fuck is going on?
Still smiling, he snatches my wrist and I’m unable to pull away.
What the fuck? How is he so strong? He doesn’t hurt me, and it’s apparent that he doesn’t want to. Instead, he’s trying to prove a point.
“Go on,” he says. “Pull away.”
Fuming, I breathe out hard through my nose and tug back. “I can’t.”
In any other situation, his strong grip would make me want to spread my legs apart and tell him to fuck me until the sun goes down. But this isn’t any other situation. I’m weak and vulnerable—both of which I despise more than anything.
If I were human, I’d likely attribute my lack of strength to the fact that my opponent is male. Biologically, men are bigger and stronger. Of course, there are always exceptions. But I’m not a woman, and Ace is no man. We’re both demons, and when it comes to demon strength, muscle size has no bearing on one’s strength.
Is he that much more powerful than me?
I’m not used to this, and if anything, it’s causing Red to want to come out.
My face must be swelling in anger. Gently, he lets me go and redirects
his attention to his weapons box as if nothing happened.
“What’re you trying to prove?” I lash out.
Nonchalantly, he fastens two metallic plates around his wrists and snaps on a holster belt. “I want you to open your eyes, Rayne.”
“Would you stop talking in code and fucking spit it out already?”
He turns toward me again, this time, his eyes searching me. “You have no idea, do you?”
Full-blown attitude spreads across my face. If I open my mouth, I won’t be nice, so instead, I wait for him to talk.
“Do you know who your real birth parents are?”
How does my childhood have anything to do with what’s going on here? More importantly, how could he know that my parents abandoned me? He must see that I’m freaking out inside. Shaking his head, he reaches into the box again and extracts a slick black crossbow.
“It isn’t my place to explain your history to you.”
“Then whose is it?” I ask.
I’m not the kind of woman who likes to tiptoe around a subject. If something needs to be said, it should be said exactly how it’s meant. I hate reading between the lines or being told I’ll understand something at a later time. Why can’t I understand it now?
“Fucking spit it out.”
“I can sense you’re irritated,” he says.
“You think?”
I’m about to reconsider smashing my fist into his face when the roof over our heads cracks, splits in half, and crumbles to ashes. I cough, wave my hand in front of my face, and cough some more.
An explosive roar rains from the sky, and I reach for my ears.
Standing on the roof of Rachel and Drax’s room is the dragon we saw flying earlier. With its mouth agape, it blows out another fiery blast, sending hot flames straight toward Ace and me.
It’s one of those oh-shit moments in which you realize you don’t have the time to do anything. In a split second, Ace throws himself on top of me, his massive dragon-like wings forming a dome-shaped shield around us. We land next to the bed, the weight of his body holding me down.
Wincing, he breathes out hard, his warm breath making it even hotter in here. “Fuck!”
With wide eyes, I stare up at him from within the darkness. “You okay?”
He’s in too much pain to answer, likely due to his wings being scorched.
“I can’t fly like this,” he says urgently. He swallows hard, an audible gulp. “I’d teleport us out of here, but I might not have the strength to come back for your friends. You ready to fight?”
“What’s your plan?” I ask.
“I’ll distract it. You find a way to cut off its—”
“You’re wasting time,” I hiss. “Get the fuck off me and let’s do this.”
Despite his excruciating pain, a hint of a smile appears on his shadowed face.
Chapter 21
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The guy’s a fucking lunatic.
As I flap my wings, soaring from left to right around the dragon’s intimidating jaw, Ace stands in the parking lot, waving his arms above his head. He runs with a limp, and it’s clear he’s still in excruciating pain.
“Over here, you ugly beast!”
Is that all he has? Ugly beast? Ace is a gentleman, to say the least. If it were me down there, I’d be shouting all kinds of profanities.
Goddamn motherfucker.
Rotting piece of horseshit.
Fucking shit stain—
The dragon’s jaw snaps shut, its three-foot-long incisor teeth inches away from my thigh.
I blast my wings downward to propel myself higher over the clouds.
Fuck.
That was way too close.
Realizing I’m flying close by, the dragon rolls its head back as if it doesn’t have a spine and tries to catch me again. I fasten my grip around the sword Ace gave me and glare at the creature. It seems to do the same, its monstrous yellow eyes narrowing into slits the size of kayaks.
It seems like it’s about to jump off the rooftop and chase me through the sky when at once, it seals its eyes and lets out a throaty cry. It raises its arm, revealing a bloody puncture wound in the soft side of its belly.
In the parking lot, Ace loads another arrow into his crossbow and aims it at the dragon’s heart.
The elastic of his crossbow snaps and the sharp-tipped arrow comes whistling through the air.
But the moment it crashes into the dragon’s chest, it shatters in two as if the dragon’s scales are made of metal.
Shit. This isn’t good.
Ace loads another arrow, but it won’t do us any good. We’re running out of time. The dragon’s eyes turn on me. Widening its mouth again, it sends a fiery blast toward me. Although I fly away in time, the heat is so intense it burns my back.
We’re pissing it off, and it’s getting more and more aggressive.
If it doesn’t bite off my head, I’ll be fine, I tell myself.
With knees bent and wings expanded far on either side of me, I suck in a deep breath, preparing myself mentally. I’ve got one shot at this, so I can’t fuck it—
Another fiery blast explodes beside me.
I’m out of time.
With my sword pointed straight ahead, I let out a hoarse cry and launch myself straight toward the dragon’s face. I’m about to slice the blade through its neck when it opens its mouth as wide as possible, like a dog catching a treat midair.
It happens so fast I don’t have the time to change my direction.
Fucking motherfucking shit.
It’s too late. I’m going in.
Wincing, I crash headfirst against the dragon’s tongue and tumble less than gracefully toward its throat. The impact is so forceful that my sword goes flying out of my hand and lands behind one of its massive plaque-encrusted molars.
“No, no, no,” I shout in a panic.
I need that thing.
But suddenly, every muscle inside the dragon’s mouth and throat contracts, sucking me toward the darkness at the back of its throat.
I’ll be damned if I let this son of a bitch swallow me into its stomach acids.
In a panic, I extract my claws and stab them into the dragon’s tongue. Speckles of blood splash onto my face as I puncture the muscle, but I’m not strong enough, and its tongue is too slimy. The dragon swallows again and I’m pulled back another several feet, my claws leaving scratch marks against the pink bubbly surface.
Then, something takes me by surprise… a deep rumble that feels a bit like an earthquake. Given the fact that I’m inside a dragon’s mouth, I know it’s anything but.
The air becomes hot—so hot that I can’t catch my breath. Within a split second, a blinding light flashes all around me and searing hot flames explode out of the back of its throat. I’ve slipped far enough down its throat to avoid being touched, but I’m so close to the flames I’m afraid my face might melt off.
Wincing, I turn my face away and dig it into the slime of its tongue. My stomach contracts and I gag with my mouth closed and my cheeks ballooned.
When the fire blast stops at long last, I glance up and spot two holes at the back of the dragon’s throat.
And here I thought dragons produced fire in their stomachs.
Thank the goddesses I ended up slipping down this far. Scorched Alexis wouldn’t make a seductive succubus.
In a last desperate attempt, I extend my arm out toward the sword as if I’m going to miraculously obtain telekinesis abilities. To my dismay, the sword doesn’t budge, and the next thing I know, I’m sliding down the beast’s dark throat, my entire body drenched in hot slime.
Chapter 22
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If I can throw a drunken tantrum in my apartment and destroy my walls, my floors, and my furniture, I can sure as hell make this dragon regret swallowing me.
The initial plan was to bring my sword down with me, but clearly, that didn’t happen.
You see it all the time
in movies; the hero gets swallowed by some giant monster, everyone thinks they’re dead, and then bam! A sword bursts out of the dragon’s chest or neck and the hero comes out unharmed.
How cool would that have been? I bet it would have impressed Ace.
I feel idiotic for even thinking about impressing that guy.
Alexis should never have to impress anyone.
The last time I felt this way was when I was a child and young Constantine—the most attractive lad in the village—reached for my hand.
But those days are nothing more than a distant memory. I’m a highly independent woman. Not once in my entire adult life have I ever felt the need to impress anyone, especially a man—well, anyone but Veerka. But with Veerka, everything feels different. I have this instinctive need to protect her. Ace doesn’t need my protection, and if anything, he’s throwing me off my game.
I’m aware it’s related to him being an incubus, but the feeling still bothers me.
As I descend into the dragon’s esophagus, I prepare my wrist blades, my teeth, and my six-inch wing claws. Then, as if possessed by a tornado, I spin myself in every direction imaginable, scratching, clawing, biting, stabbing, and tearing through any flesh I can reach.
The creature roars, the vibrations of its vocal cords reaching me as I fall. Hot blood spews onto my face, so I squint as I lash out, but I don’t stop. No way am I reaching this thing’s stomach acid. Who knows what’s rotting in there? Bones and melted flesh?
I lose my momentum when the dragon jerks hard, no doubt panicking because its insides are being shred to pieces.
Good.
That’s what it gets for fucking eating me.
With all my strength, I tear through its esophagus, hot slabs of fleshy skin drenching me in slime as I force my way out of the organ. Although difficult to slip out of the hole, I do so by grasping what seems to be a thick piece of muscle inside the dragon’s throat.
With my wrist blades aimed up over my head, I dive headfirst through its neck as bits of muscles, tendons, and veins snap all around me. As I come blasting out into the sky, I grimace.
But it isn’t the brightness of the sun that bothers me—it’s the thick layer of bodily fluids dripping from my body. It’s so thick that it weighs my wings down, making it difficult for me to flap. Every time I try, I lose control, along with several feet of altitude.
Lethal Blow: (Succubus Hitwoman Book 2) Page 11