Her lips opened on a gasp and Damien took full advantage. His tongue swept into her mouth. Helpless to do anything but respond to the physical heat, her own tongue rushed out to meet his. Had anything ever tasted so good? If it had, she couldn’t remember. All she managed to do was welcome the sensations running through her body, the tingling awareness seeping into every pore, the hot, lush feel of Damien’s lips against hers, his tongue battling with her own.
She gave up on the thought of ever breathing again—hey, who needed air when a sexy Euadaemon gave the kiss of life—when the sound of a throat clearing interrupted them.
“Ahem. I hate to break up this little…conversation, but I have your supplies waiting for you at the front.”
Celia pulled herself away from Damien to see Clem standing behind them, a knowing smile on the old man’s face. Warmth rushed to her cheeks and she knew a blush crept up her face. Dear gods did she really kiss Damien in the middle of Clem’s store in broad daylight? She’d never been one for PDA; come to think of it, she had never been one for displays of affection at all. Yet here she was ready to throw Damien down on the ground and take him. What was going on with her?
“We’ll be right up, Clem,” Damien spoke, with what she thought was far too much calm for the present situation.
The Witch smiled at them again. Winking at her, he turned and headed for the front of the store. Too embarrassed to face Damien, she dropped her head to avoid his gaze. He didn’t let her hide though. The strong, large hand that had wreaked havoc on her body during that kiss, gently cupped her chin, forcing her to raise her eyes to his.
“We’re not done with this, Celia.”
She wasn’t entirely certain what he meant. Done with the discussion about breaking the spell and taking the curse? Done with discussing who hurt her? Or done with the kiss? Honestly, she wasn’t sure she really wanted to know. She simply nodded then turned and followed the path Clem had taken to the front of the store. All the while trying not to run like a frightened little girl.
****
The ride home was silent and as soon as they got back to the house, Celia ran inside with the ingredients, mumbling something about preparing things. He shouldn’t have kissed her like that, in the store with Clem catching them, but gods he just couldn’t stop himself. She’d looked so sad and all he wanted to do was make her smile, protect her, and kill the person who had hurt her. Who hurt her? Did it have anything to do with the nightmare she’d had the other night?
Damien was determined to get to the bottom of it. Whatever “it” was. After Celia took off—practically running—to her office, he went to his own office and placed a call to Racine. If anyone knew about Celia’s past, surely her boss did. The council leaders were required to do deep background checks on all their employees, Enforcers and scientists.
The region seven council leader picked up on the first ring.
“Racine, it’s Damien.”
“Hello, brother. How are things progressing?”
They weren’t really brothers, just a term the Enforcers used for each other, a sign of solidarity. When fighting against the evils of the world, they had to trust the man at their back. No matter what region they belonged to all Enforcers fought together. When an Enforcer was needed somewhere they went and were immediately accepted into the fold. They were pretty much family. Damien and Racine had worked together many times over the hundreds of years the two Euadaemons had lived. Damien liked and respected Racine.
“We had a major breakthrough today.” He filled Racine in on the events of the day, the spell, the trip to the metaphysical shop, and the blood curse. He left out the kiss. Celia’s boss didn’t need to know that little detail, no matter how much like family they all were.
“A blood curse…damn.”
The harshly whispered word emulated his exact feelings.
“What do you know about blood curses?” Because, obviously, from his tone the other Enforcer leader knew something and it did not sound promising.
Racine’s heavy sigh carried through the phone. “I’ve only seen a blood curse broken once. Must have been about…a hundred years ago. I worked a rogue Werewolf case up in Montana. The Were was mad, ripping apart livestock left and right. I partnered with a Witch named Bryan, because we suspected the Were was being controlled by a spell. We were right. We trapped the Were and Bryan tried the counter spell, but something went wrong.”
Racine paused. When his voice came back over the line, it sounded dark and harsh.
“Halfway through the spell, Bryan let out a scream so chilling it still haunts me to this day. Blood poured out his nose and eyes. I had no idea what was going on…Bryan must have, though, because after the initial scream he rushed through the rest of the spell then collapsed on the ground.”
Damien sucked in a harsh breath.
“I thought he’d died. The Werewolf came out of his madness not remembering a thing. Poor kid was only seventeen and after he learned what he had done to his neighbor’s livestock, well, he felt so guilty he left town. Bryan came to after a few minutes and explained to me he suspected a blood curse on the spell, but hadn’t known for sure. After a few days’ rest, he was back to fighting speed. We tracked down the Sorcerer who cursed the Were, a neighbor who wanted to eliminate his competing farmers’ livestock. Thought if he used a ‘wolf’ attack it wouldn’t draw any suspicion to him.”
“Bastard.” Damien growled over the phone.
“Our thoughts exactly. That’s why we agreed with the council when they had a circle of three strip him of his powers.”
Damien smiled at the just news. For Witches who turned Sorcerer, a circle of three powerful elder Witches could take powers away. An easy way to deal with those who took magic too far, but not far enough to warrant death.
“I gave Bryan hell for not warning me about the blood curse. Scared the shit out of me at the time.”
It sounded scary as hell and painful. Damn it, he did not want Celia to endure that. There had to be another way.
“Celia is a smart woman, Damien.” Racine’s calm voice drifted over the phone. “She wouldn’t do this if she couldn’t handle it, and if there was another way, she would find it, believe me.”
“How much do you know about Celia?”
“I know she is a genius. Smarter than most people I’ve come across. She prefers to use science over magic, but she gets results so I don’t worry over her methods.”
“I don’t mean her accomplishments. I mean what do you know about her, her past, family, friends?”
A weighted pause filled the air before the other council leader spoke. This time Racine’s voice held a note of suspicion.
“Why do you want to know?”
He didn’t plan to share what Celia let slip at Clem’s shop about the person who hurt her. If Racine didn’t know, it was not his place to tell the man. Lying to Racine was out of the question. So he said nothing, waiting for the Enforcer leader to answer his question. Another heavy sigh sounded; Racine was very good at those. Finally, the other Euadaemon spoke.
“I don’t really know much about Celia’s past. No one does. Bucky attended a lecture Celia gave on Egyptian hieroglyphics and their symbolism with the gods. She went to speak to her after the lecture, recognized her as a Witch and offered to set her up with an interview for a position in our lab. Her intelligence blew me away. The young woman knew more about ancient languages than anyone I had ever met. She even knew a few of the old Demon dialects. I have no idea where she learned them, but it was quite amazing to hear her translate some of my older texts.”
Racine had more books than anyone Damien knew. He bet the Euadaemon had more books than the town library.
“I offered her a job which she accepted after she finished her dissertations. She showed such skill and leadership, in a few years she started running the lab.”
“That’s it?” The information told him nothing. “You don’t know anything about her past, her family?”
“I don
’t believe Celia has any family. If she does, she never talks about them, or visits them. Celia never talks about herself. She’s very quiet, but she gets the job done.” The other man cleared his throat. “She may be incredibly gifted with intelligence, Damien, but she’s still a young woman. A very naive young woman.”
He wasn’t sure he cared for Racine’s tone. “What do you mean by that exactly?”
“I mean, Celia is private, likes to keep to herself. I suspect she does not date much. Some people may see that as weakness and try to take advantage of her.”
He couldn’t believe what he heard. “Are you warning me away from your head scientist?”
“Are you trying to get my head scientist into bed?”
No. Yes. He didn’t know. At the moment, all he wanted to do was find out who hurt her so he could repay them. He just wanted to protect her. Remembering the soft feel of her lips on his, the tightness with which she gripped him, made him reassess. He wanted to protect her then he wanted to get her in bed. Not that he would share that revelation with her boss.
“I just want to make sure she’s protected.” His fingers gripped the phone tighter. “She is taking a huge risk with this blood curse. It will hurt her. I don’t want that, but she says there is no other way. I just don’t want her hurt any more than necessary.”
He knew he didn’t make sense, but he refused to spill Celia’s secret, even if he didn’t really know it. The phone started to crack in his hand. He loosened his grip, reining in his temper. The temper usually so calm and controlled, but shot to hell with the arrival of a certain sexy Witch.
“I just want to help in any way I can.”
“Me too.” Racine’s sigh carried over the line. “But the only thing we can do right now is let Celia break the spell and go from there.”
The man was right, he knew, but he didn’t like it any more.
“Just be there for her, Damien. It’s a damn scary thing when the blood curse takes over. Help her through it and don’t freak out like I did. At least you have some warning.” Racine gave a deprecating chuckle.
He did at that. A good thing he managed to weasel the information out of Celia before she tried to break the spell. Just thinking about watching her perform the counter spell then seeing blood pour out of her, not knowing what was going on, sent a dark chill to his gut. It would still be hard to watch, but knowing she would not die from it made him feel slightly better. Slightly.
“I will protect her with my life, brother.”
“See that you do. And have her call me after she breaks the spell. I want to make sure she is all right.”
Damien would have felt a bit of jealousy over Racine’s command if his tone had not been that of a caring elder looking out for their young. He thanked the Enforcer leader for his time and hung up the phone. He wanted to check on Celia, see her progress, but her office door remained shut. So he headed downstairs and spent the afternoon in the training room taking out his frustration and worry on the new recruits, all the while wondering about the sexy scientist Witch and her secret past.
Chapter 8
Hours later, Damien’s body ached; exhaustion weighed him down. He had taken six new Enforcers to the mats and bested all of them. Of course, if any recruit got the best of him that would be the day he resigned as council leader. Still, sparring with young, strong, eager warriors took its toll on even the best of men. His body demanded rest. Too bad his mind still wanted answers, answers from a certain sexy redheaded scientist.
He passed Celia’s office. The door remained closed, but the light off. Had she gone to bed? Possibly. After all, it was—he glanced at his watch—three in the morning. He had no idea he’d stayed below so long. After sparring with the new Enforcers, he’d lifted weights and swam a few laps in the pool, but he didn’t realize so much time had passed.
Climbing the stairs, he headed toward his room. He needed a shower, sleep, and answers. He’d have to settle for two out of three. As he passed by Celia’s room, he heard a moan come from under the door. He paused, waited, another moan. Was she having another nightmare? Just the thought made his gut clench. Softly, he knocked on the door.
“Celia?”
No reply.
Slowly, he turned the knob, opening the door a crack.
“Celia?” he called again, but the only reply another moan.
Opening the door fully, he stepped into the room. His superior night vision, plus the moon shining in from the open window, allowed him to see in the dimly lit room perfectly. Celia lay on the bed, arms at her sides, legs shifting restlessly.
He started toward the bed to wake her from her bad dreams when another moan stopped him. This one didn’t sound like fear. It sounded…erotic. Surely, Celia wasn’t having a—
“Ohhhh.”
The soft exclamation came from her parted lips. Her breath rushed out in little pants. Under the thin silk sheet, he saw her legs rub together in a seeking manner.
She was. Celia was having an erotic dream. He should go. She would be mortified if she found out he saw her this way. Being a man of honor, he turned to leave.
“Damien.”
What was that?
Whipping back around in surprise, he found Celia still asleep. Had that been his name she moaned? No, he had imagined it. Wishful thinking left over from that spectacular kiss they’d shared earlier in the day.
“Yes, oh Damien, yessss.”
No imagining that. She had said his name. No way in hell could he leave the room now. Stepping closer to the bed, he gazed at the beautiful sleeping woman who, from all accounts, enjoyed a naughty dream about him. Her red curls fanned out on the pillow. It shocked him to see all that red against the stark white of the pillowcase. A shock that went straight to his groin when he imagined taking handfuls of that hair, bringing it to his face to see if it smelled as wonderful as it looked, felt as soft. He imagined her hair draping over his thighs as she took him in her mouth. Would it be long enough to cover her breasts as she rode him? It looked like it.
Her face flushed, her mouth drawn in a tight line between pleasure and frustration. He could ease that frustration for her given half a chance. Her neck and shoulders glistened pale white in the moonlight and…great gods was she naked under there? Just the thought sent his blood racing.
The shimmery fabric molded to her body, giving no appearance of clothing underneath. She was! The little Witch had nothing but a thin sheet of silk keeping her body from him. Damn, how he wanted to tear the silk away and reveal the beauty he was sure to find.
The sheet slipped lower as her legs continued to move. Sweat broke out on his brow as he got closer to a glimpse of heaven. He should have felt like a pervert, but he only felt anticipation and need. The fabric slid lower on her chest and lower still. The tops of her creamy, very generous breasts peeking out. How had she managed to hide those in button up shirts? Damien thought he would explode, but his raging hormones paused when he saw something that didn’t quite look right.
Something on her chest, right between her breasts on the breastbone. It looked like a scar of some kind. No, not a scar, but a burn, a very old burn. Shaped like… The sheet fell lower exposing the tops of Celia’s nipples, but as tempting as they were, his focus remained on the burn. It took shape. Pointed at the top with a crossing section…dear gods…
He reached out to pull the sheet down, all sexual desire doused by what he saw. A sickening sense of dread filled him. A cross. Someone had burned a six-inch ornate cross into Celia’s skin. Who would do such a thing? Reaching out, he placed a finger on the burn mark. Immediately, Celia’s pleasure-filled moans turned to cries of terror. She screamed, lurching upright.
Guilt squeezed his chest at the thought that he caused her pleasure to turn to pain. He pulled her into his arms and stroked the soft red hair that only moments ago he’d dreamt about.
“Shhh, it’s okay. You’re safe. I’ve got you. Wake up, Celia.”
****
Such a lovely dream. Lying
on a beach. The hot sun warmed her skin and the cool white sand cradled her naked flesh. Then suddenly he appeared, Damien. He wore only a pair of snug swim trunks covering the part Celia wanted to see most. She wasn’t bothered by her nudity and evidently, neither was he. He bent over her to kiss her softly. Fireworks exploded in the sky, literally.
Then he massaged her, rubbing her naked body with his large, strong hands. His deep voice whispered sweet nothings in her ear while his hands moved lower and lower. Her skin burned, fire racing along every nerve. But the good kind of fire, all heat and no pain. Waves came up the shore and lapped at her overheated skin, but it didn’t help. Steam rose as the heat Damien created in her boiled the sea. His hands moved lower and lower, oh yes! Lower still until he was almost at—
Abruptly, her breath was knocked out of her, her chest, no her scar, her scar burned with a frenzy. A hateful old voice cracked through the air.
“I’ll burn the evil out of you, Satan’s whore!”
The sky turned black, the water cooled to ice. Damien vanished. Her earlier pleasure morphed into fear. The bareness of her body no longer sensual, but shameful. Then the old woman appeared, pressing that thing into Celia’s chest, burning, hurting, oh gods the pain!
“Come on Celia, wake up! It’s me, you’re safe. It was just a dream,” the deep voice called to her through the fog of sleep.
She knew that voice. The dream faded as she opened her eyes. She was in her room. No, not her room, but her room at region eight headquarters. Someone else was in her room, too.
“There you go, sweetheart. Open those beautiful green eyes for me.”
“Damien?” Her voice came out groggy and softer than she intended.
Strong arms banded around her, locking her in a tight embrace. Damien’s arms. What is Damien doing here?
His hands stroked her back in a soothing manner; strong, rough hands that felt good rasping along her heated skin. That’s when it popped into her head she was naked. Damien stroked her, she was naked, and it felt good. Too good, on the heels of her very erotic dream about him, actually having him in her room touching her with only a thin sheet between them made embarrassment rise.
Daemon Deception Page 6