“Whose house is this?” I asked.
“Mine,” he said as he turned to look at me. There was a strange look in his beautiful eyes as they ran over me; it was almost one of awe. “Or it was mine anyway. I used to live here with Vargas and some other guys. Now, Vargas and Erin live here, and I crash here whenever I’m in town.”
“I’ll go—”
“No,” he interrupted harshly, but when he spoke again, his tone was calmer. “Please stay.”
I tried not to let it, but excitement flooded my veins as my pulse raced.
Damn it, do not get attached to a demon.
Suddenly, I became aware of my nudity in a way I hadn’t been in over a year. Scooting away from him, I slipped under the blanket and sighed when I sank further into the fluffy mattress. It was so much more comfortable than my small cot. I could sleep for a week in this bed.
I stared at the wall as my thoughts turned to Zanta and Sandy. They’d both been transferred to this area of the wall when I relocated. I hadn’t seen Zanta since she yelled for me on her way to the battle, but I hadn’t seen all the survivors. I tried to recall Sandy’s schedule. Was she on guard duty on the wall last night or was she at home and therefore more likely to have been on the field?
A lump clogged my throat. Sandy was my roommate, and the first friend I made when I first arrived at the wall. We were from different towns and didn’t know each other, but we volunteered on the same day and were assigned together. At sixteen, Sandy volunteered as soon as she could, but I’d waited until I was eighteen.
Still, we’d become friends, and even after I moved in with the demons, we spent most of our days together and were nearly inseparable. After learning what I was, she hadn’t feared me or shunned me as some of the other humans did. She was the best friend I ever had, and I couldn’t leave her body with the dead on the field.
And Zanta had been my lifeline during the most confusing and challenging time of my life. She’d guided me as she taught me how to control my newfound capabilities. She never judged me, never forced me to do anything I wasn’t ready for, and never treated me like my half-human status made me lesser like some of the other demons did.
They both had to be alive, but I knew the odds of that weren’t good.
As if sensing my distress, Hawk enclosed his arms around me and settled against my back. I shouldn’t allow myself to take comfort in his strong embrace, but I was too tired to resist him. Tomorrow I would worry about protecting my heart, but today I would accept this small bit of comfort in a far from comforting world.
Chapter Twelve
Aisling
The smell of cooking bacon woke me sometime later. Opening my eyes, I blinked as I tried to figure out where I was and what was happening? Was I home? Was that my mom in the kitchen?
For a minute, I found myself back to a time when I woke every morning to my mom humming in the kitchen while the tantalizing scent of food filled the air. I never used an alarm clock; my stomach always woke me.
A big fan of breakfast, my mom almost always had it ready by the time my dad and I made it downstairs. We’d sit together in the breakfast nook and eat whatever delicious concoction she made for us. We often talked for a bit before my mom read the paper while my dad did the crossword, and I propped open a book.
Then the war happened and so much changed. My mom still cooked for us, but instead of racing my dad downstairs for the best piece of bacon, we were often coming through the door after spending the morning hunting.
Before our laughter would follow us into the kitchen as we both arrived breathless and pushing against each other. After, no laughter followed us through the door. It was difficult to laugh when half the world was gone, though we tried.
We’d still sit together in the nook and read, but for a few years, there were no newspapers and crosswords. When a paper returned, it was put out by one of our neighbors and consisted of our small town’s local news. It arrived on our doorstep once a month; we usually knew everything by then, but we read every sentence in that short paper.
But even with the bacon cooking and my confusion over my whereabouts, I knew I wasn’t home. The wall across from me was white and not the warm peach of my room. I stared at the wall as my memories clicked into place. I wasn’t home; I was at the wall and beyond the windows of this home was an endless sea of death.
I closed my eyes as I tried to shut out the screams of the dying and the stench of blood and smoke. Instead, I focused on the large, strong man enveloping me. If the rigid evidence of his erection in my back was any indication, he could use some release. And I was desperate to forget, if only for a little while, the events of yesterday.
Rolling over, I rested my hands on his chest and pushed him onto the bed before taking him into me. For a brief time, I forgot all about the dead as I became centered on Hawk, our bodies, and the way he could make me come apart.
Spent, I collapsed on top of him while I struggled to catch my breath. Those odd little fangs were back in my mouth, and I prodded them with my tongue as a forgotten conversation with Zanta drifted through my mind. I was at the wall in Virginia right after the king and queen arrived. The demons were whispering something about a Chosen, and I asked Zanta what that meant.
“See the marks on their necks?” Zanta asked.
“Yes.” It was impossible not to notice them.
“When a demon finds their Chosen, they mate for life. Those bites make it clear to everyone they belong to each other.”
I poked at my fangs again as I tried to figure out why they were there, what was happening, and who this man beside me was.
“Hawk?”
“Hmm?” he murmured as he ran his fingers through my hair.
“I have fangs.”
“I’m aware,” he said with a chuckle. “I recall enjoying the feel of them sinking into me.”
“I’ve never had fangs before. I mean, I’m still relatively new to this whole demon thing, but I think I would have noticed fangs.”
He stopped playing with my hair and propped his head on his hand to gaze down at me. “What do you mean, you’re still new to this demon thing?”
“I mean, I’ve only been a demon, or I should say immortal, for two years. I’ve been part demon my whole life; I just didn’t know it until I stopped aging and started accidentally setting things on fire.”
“And no one in your family knew about it until the gateway opened.”
“Exactly. It comes from my mom’s side. She stopped aging too but didn’t acknowledge it until I told her what was happening to me. Afterward, the military moved my parents to the wall for their protection. I didn’t think anyone would attack her, but I wasn’t taking any chances.”
Everyone was now aware of what really happened with the war, but for years, the government kept it a secret. The collapse of the seals and the escape of the Hell creatures blew that secret wide open.
“I don’t blame you,” he said. “What kind of demon are you?”
“I’ve been told I’m part fire demon. I can create small balls of fire, and it doesn’t burn me,” I said. “My fire isn’t strong enough to do any real damage to an enemy, but I have been known to torch a bed.”
“They can be treacherous.”
The smile he gave me did weird things to my belly, and I tried to ignore the butterflies kicking around in there as my gaze fell to his lips. I jerked my eyes away and focused on the wall over his shoulder. When he ran his fingers over my cheek, it took all I had not to jump on him again, but we were supposed to be discussing something here.
“I can also see souls!” I blurted to distract my traitorous body.
His fingers stilled on my neck, right over the last place he bit me, before it fell away. “You can what?”
I could think a little more clearly now that he wasn’t touching me, but I was acutely aware of his body only inches away from mine.
“All my life, I’ve been able to see a person’s soul,” I said. “Looking at them, I can tell
you if they’re good or bad. Those with twisted souls are… well, they’re hideous inside, and I can see it. Of course, it doesn’t work for demons because they have no soul, but I’ve always known when to stay away from certain people.”
His brow furrowed as his gaze ran over my face. “That’s… fascinating.”
“And strange, but it’s pretty cool too. Though, I don’t think it’s an ability I have because I’m part demon. Since demons don’t have souls, there’s no reason for any demon to possess such an ability. I think it’s an entirely human ability. My dad swore my grandma was an empath, and she told him her mom could see the future; I never met either of them, but I believe I inherited something from them.”
“Are you sure you’re part demon?” he asked. “Maybe you’re something else.”
“What else would I be?”
“Angel.”
I frowned before shaking my head. “Angels can’t produce fire.”
“The offspring of the fallen angels can; look at River. And seeing a person’s soul sounds more angelic than demonic to me, but we can ask Raphael or Caim.”
“I sure don’t act like an angel,” I muttered.
He ran his hand down my side. “Which is great for me.”
When I smiled at him, his eyes latched onto my tiny fangs. We had things to discuss, but I couldn’t resist running my tongue over my lips. Just as I knew they would, his eyes followed my tongue.
“The demon I spoke with said they’re discovering other human and demon mixes and they’re all revealing themselves differently. Some remain mostly human but are immortal while others have developed demon parts such as horns and tails.”
“Interesting,” he said.
“I can see your soul,” I said.
I rested my hand on his chest over the place where his beautiful soul was strongest. The way he made me feel terrified me; I’d never had my heart broken and didn’t want to start now. But at least the warmth of his soul let me know he was a good man. Whatever hurt he inflicted on others wasn’t intentional. I doubted that would matter if I continued to get closer to him and was left behind.
I removed my hand from his chest and rested it on the bed. I would not move it again.
“I don’t understand how I can see your soul if you’re a demon,” I said.
“I was once human.”
The revelation made me do a double take. “You’re like me?”
“No. Last year, when we were traveling to the gateway in the hopes of River being able to close it, we were attacked by canagh demons. They took Erin and me to their nest. I believed that was the end for us, but River and Vargas followed us. During the ensuing fight, River killed Lilitu, the queen of that group of canaghs. However, when River hit Lilitu with her lifeforce, she accidentally threw the queen into me. Lilitu sliced me open as she fell on me and her blood mixed with mine while I was dying. I didn’t realize what was happening to me at the time, but I survived the transformation into a demon.”
“Wow,” I breathed. “I didn’t know a human could become a demon in such a way.”
“It is possible, but not all survive it. Corson’s Chosen, Wren, became a demon the same way.”
Forgetting my resolve to keep my hand on the bed, I rested it on his chest and tapped my fingers against him while I studied his soul. “That explains the soul then; a human who transforms must not lose it. I mean, your soul wouldn’t get pushed out of your body, would it?”
“Obviously not.”
“Fascinating.”
When he smiled at me, my heart did a strange flip. My gaze fell to his lips again, and before I knew what I intended, I leaned forward to kiss him. Before our lips could meet, he turned his head away, and like he was my Great-Aunt Dee, I found myself kissing his cheek.
Mortification burned through me, but somehow, I managed a smile as I removed my hand from his chest and ran it through my hair. I focused on the wall again as I tried not to bolt from the bed and this house. If I did, he would know how embarrassed I was, though I was pretty sure my red cheeks gave me away.
Idiot! You stupid idiot!
Usually, I wasn’t so hard on myself, but I knew better. One thing I’d learned about demons since I started sleeping with them was they didn’t like to kiss. I was fine with it as I was trying to learn their ways and settling into the “don’t get attached” mindset they had toward sex, but for one dumb second, I’d forgotten and slipped back into my human ways.
Hawk grasped my chin and turned my head toward him. I tried to jerk my chin from his grasp, but he held onto me as his indigo eyes burned into mine. I restrained myself from punching him in the face.
“It’s not you; it’s me,” he said.
My mouth almost came unhinged. I’d never expected to hear that line!
What the actual fuck? I wanted to hit him. No, I would kick him in the nuts. No, I was going to walk out of this house and never see him again. He’d pulled the most tired, cowardly line of all time on me; he wasn’t worth the punch in the face or the castration I itched to deliver.
“It really is me, Aisling,” he said, as if he could read my mind. But if he could, he would be protecting his nuts, and he wasn’t. “I can’t kiss anyone because the kiss of a canagh demon enslaves their lover.”
I couldn’t figure out if he was lying or not, but the stark look in his eyes tugged at my heart, and I found myself relaxing.
“It’s true,” he murmured.
When his eyes fell to my mouth and he ran his finger over my lips, the hunger in his gaze stole my breath. Maybe he was lying, but he couldn’t fake the yearning he exuded.
“Before I knew what I was becoming and what my kiss could do to another, I accidentally enslaved a woman.”
An unexpected bolt of jealousy tore through me, and my nails dug into my palms as I tried to control it. The last time I was jealous of anyone was Mary Lou Driscoll in second grade. The only thing on my Christmas list that year was a golden retriever puppy, but when I ran downstairs Christmas morning, there was no puppy beneath my tree.
There was one under Mary Lou’s though.
When she came to school with pictures of her adorable puppy, I just knew Santa got the wrong address. Mary Lou was a brat; she lived three doors down from us, and when our parents got together, she would break my toys, pull my hair, and boss me around. My parents said to ignore her, but it was impossible to ignore someone who kept trying to stick your Barbie in your Easy-Bake Oven.
She knew Barbie wasn’t edible.
Santa must have made a mistake. Mary Lou didn’t deserve a puppy, but I did. When I went home and told my parents about Santa’s mix-up, I demanded they write and tell him. And when they finished letting Santa know about his mistake, they had to take me to Mary Lou’s house so I could get my present.
Unable to calm me and unable to convince me that I couldn’t take Mary Lou’s puppy, my parents finally told me there was no Santa. They hadn’t given me a puppy because they couldn’t afford one right now. I didn’t know if I was more devastated over the news of Santa, or that there hadn’t been a mix-up and Mary Lou didn’t have my dog.
Now, looking back, I realized I’d been acting like a bigger brat than Mary Lou, but she really was a bitch. The war hadn’t changed that about her. I hadn’t seen her in years, but the last time I ran into her was right before I came to the wall. At the time, she was sticking her tongue down the throat of my best friend’s boyfriend. It was the first time I slapped her before kicking him in the shin, and it felt amazing.
Mary Lou always wanted what everyone else had or desired; hence, why she asked her parents for a golden retriever. She knew how much I wanted that puppy. And Mary Lou always got what she wanted.
I didn’t know what became of her after I left home. I hoped she found some happiness in this messed-up world because I now realized how unhappy she was. She’d seemed to have it all, but something inside her was missing.
Pulling myself from the past, I focused on Hawk again. “What happen
ed to the woman you enslaved?”
“She died but not before she went… well, a little over the top. She started to stalk me.” Anguish filled his eyes before he closed them. “Sarah had no control over herself and no concern for her life. I considered her a freak until I learned I was the one who made her like that. Then I felt sorry for her and hated myself. What happened between us was the kiss of death for the woman she’d been before me.”
I couldn’t stop myself from running my hands over his chest to soothe him. “I’m sorry.”
He shrugged, but I sensed his lingering tension when his head turned toward me. “I won’t make that mistake again. So, when I say it’s not you, it’s me, I am telling the truth.” He cupped my cheek in his hand as he stared at my mouth. “Because I would very much like to know what your mouth tastes like.”
How this man could have me contemplating maiming him one minute and longing to snuggle into his arms the next was a mystery to me, but he did it with ease. He might drive me crazy before he walked out of my life, but I couldn’t deny the ride to Insanityville tempted me.
I hesitated before replying, “Okay.”
Not being able to kiss him was disappointing, but no matter how good he made me feel, I preferred not to spend eternity chasing Hawk around like some lovesick schoolgirl. Death was a far preferable option.
“So, back to these fangs.” I pointed at my mouth as I recalled what started this whole conversation. “Why do I suddenly have them?”
“I’d assumed you knew, but if you weren’t raised as a demon, you wouldn’t,” he murmured more to himself than to me. “You have fangs now because you are my Chosen, and we have claimed each other as such.”
The ground lurched out from under me.
Chapter Thirteen
Hawk
I’d never expected my Chosen to look like she was going to throw up after bonding with me, but that was exactly how Aisling looked. Her face paled, and her hand went to her mouth as she stared at me. In the shadows of the room, her eyes were nearly black, but the moonlight seeping around the curtains illuminated the pretty, paler flecks of brown in them.
Kiss of Death: Hell on Earth Series, Book 3 Page 8