“Now we have that out of the way. Tell me where we are going, Layla. We need to prepare, and we have only a few hours.” As she started to talk he listened, but half of his mind was on weaponry. How was he going to defend his new family?
Something stirred in his chest, prowling under his skin. Tan had a feeling he would not have to worry too much about that; beast and demon were in total agreement. Whether by claw or fang, he would tear anyone apart that tried to harm their family.
It didn’t take as long as he expected to get everything together. Layla had pulled the snowmobile out from the shed, and while he finished loading the attached sled, she knelt before her daughter, zipping up her winter jacket to her neck and pulling her hood up over her head. He turned his head and watched the two females. Annabelle looked a little nervous. She fidgeted the whole time, looking over at the red snowmobile excitedly. She had let it slip to him earlier that she had never been on the snowmobile before, and was looking forward to it.
He finished securing the final pack down and zipped up the jacket Layla had found stuffed in the attic. There had been fresh snowfall since the sun set, and it had dropped the temperature of the air significantly. Worry pricked at him. He did not like the idea of taking Bella out on a night like this. The weather could turn at any moment; the chances of a storm rolling in were slim, but winter in the mountains could be unpredictable. However, Layla was on edge, and she wanted to get away from the cabin. This Ilianna woman had given her a warning, and she was taking it very seriously. So, to ease her fears he would do as she wished, even if that meant trekking out into the snow at five o’clock in the morning.
“Okay, ladies, we ready to go?”
Layla stood and faced him, her eyes too wide, too nervous. She nodded and dropped her gaze, her fingers fiddling with the zipper to her jacket. She was trembling the whole time, and kept missing the link to the zipper. He reached out, covering her hands with his and stilling her shaking hands.
“Layla, I won’t let anything happen to you or Annabelle. You’re mine, remember?” Her eyes lifted to his and she nodded as the demon zipped up her jacket. Cupping her cold cheeks with his hands he leaned in, covering her chilled lips in a warm lingering kiss. He was determined to drive away the ice that seemed to have infused her body. Her hands lifted to cover his, and just for a moment nothing existed but her lips and the taste of her on his tongue. He hated she had to endure this, that her worry and fear had driven some of the light from her.
“I belong to you, too, right?” A little voice came from his side. He could have stood there kissing her all night, but he reluctantly released Layla’s lips and looked down at Bella. She was looking up at him, her ice blue eyes wide. Leaning down, he picked her up and settled her on his hip easily.
“Of course you do. You are very special, Bella. You want to sit up front with me?” Her bright smile was all the confirmation he needed. He put her down gently and she ran through the snow, looking like a bright pink mini Michelin Man climbing on the snowmobile. She was dwarfed by the large machine.
Arms moved around his waist, and Layla rested her head against his shoulder. She was so quiet. That put him on edge. She always seemed to be so alive with sound, humming or talking. Her silence went against her very nature. He didn’t like it. Turning her face up so he could see her eyes, he gently brushed his thumb across her cheek.
“Your silence is painful to me, Layla. I find myself missing your voice.”
She let out a small laugh and a smile finally pulled at her lips. “Hush up, silly demon. Since when does a man want his woman to talk his ear off?”
Lowering his head, he rested his forehead against hers, the air misting between them. “Your voice calms me, and has from that first moment you spoke. You broke through the darkness, you carried me back from the brink. Now it is my turn to bear the weight.”
He saw her eyes glisten with tears. Hell, he could smell it. Shit, he didn’t mean to make her cry; he was not good at this sappy stuff. He opened his mouth to apologize for whatever he said that made her cry, but she threw her arms around him and kissed him hard and fast.
“I love you, Tanus.” He stared at her. She had said the words. He felt strong and weak at once. Was that even possible? He wanted to roar to the world, sneak her off into the darkness, and keep her hidden from everyone. Every protective instinct surged in his heart, and he grinned wide.
“Well of course you do. I’m sort of perfect.” That earned him a punch to the shoulder, and she huffed, her face flushing bright red. The flustered female made a break for the snowmobile and her grinning daughter who was watching the whole thing. He grabbed her from behind and pulled her back against him, leaning down so his lips brushed her ear. He chuckled softly as she huffed again, trying to pull away.
“Let me go, you ass.”
“Nope, never going to happen. I am both demon and hellhound. Remember? When I make a claim, it is for life. You are mine, Layla. My mate, my heart. My love.” She stopped struggling and turned around, her eyes locked on him as if she had not heard him. “You heard me; you are my love. There will never be another.”
Layla wanted to smack the bastard again. His words were not as simple as “I love you.” They were more than that. They meant something deeper than mere love. She knew it in her heart. He was making a declaration of fealty, of devotion for the rest of his life. How had she stumbled upon this man? How had he come to be in her life, in the life of her daughter?
“Sometimes, demon, I want to kick you.” She chuckled and smiled. He just grinned and wrapped her in his powerful arms. Closing her eyes, she breathed him in, letting the air of power and strength wash over her. She felt protected and safe for the first time in hours. The tightness in her chest eased for the first time since the madness of Richard walking back into her life. She believed they might be okay now.
“Come on, crazy woman, let’s get going.” His low tone sent her heart racing, and she considered kicking him for real. Shaking her head, she watched him as he walked over to the snowmobile and climbed on behind Annabelle, turning her around so she was facing forward. He secured her snow goggles over her eyes and leaned around her, starting the engine.
The grating noise shattered the silence of the night and drove home just how real this whole situation had become. For all the craziness that revolved around her life—talking to animals, her sister healing, a daughter who seemed to have more powers than sense half the time. This moment felt totally unreal; her life had gone from semi-sane to certifiable in a week. The reason for the sudden straitjacket requirement sat on the back of that snowmobile talking quietly to her daughter, looking down at her like a father should look at his child. Her heart melted for him. Yeah, she could live with certifiable as long as he was in it with her.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Lexi stretched languidly in bed and rolled over. Warmth saturated her body and she yawned, cracking her jaw loudly. Her legs ached, her feet hurt, and her back was killing her. She must have been walking longer than she realized last night. No wonder she did not remember making it back to the cabin last night. Layla must have been hissing mad given the argument they’d had before Lexi stormed off. Turning over again, she resigned herself to the fact she needed to go and beg her sister’s forgiveness. She opened her eyes and frowned. Where the fuck was she?
She sat up quickly, the covers falling around her body as her eyes searched the room. It was then she realized she was only dressed in an oversized shirt and her panties. With an indignant gasp, she grabbed the covers and pulled them back around her—as if a group of men were watching from the huge bank of windows that lined the wall.
She looked frantically around the room. This place was decorated for some kind of royalty or something. Large art deco style paintings covered one wall, while the other was taken up by the huge bed in which she lay. Furniture that screamed more money than sense dotted the room. But those windows… They took up a whole damn wall and gave the room an exquisite view of the
mountains still shrouded in darkness with just a hint of dawn approaching painted against the night sky. A glass door led out to a balcony that she would have killed to have on the cabin. Her feet itched to walk out onto it and find where it led—clearly around the house somewhere.
Shaking her head, she turned her attention to the most immediate problem. Her clothes had to be somewhere in this cataclysm of modern décor. She could not have ended up in some stranger’s house by accident without her apparel. Lexi froze as the memories of last night flooded back in a rush—the man with the amethyst eyes. Her heart skipped a beat as she groaned. She had hit him hard enough with that branch to cause serious damage, and he bushed it off like it had been a love tap.
Sarcastic, arrogant bastard. He must have drugged her or something. That had to be it. What if he had—Oh God, she didn’t want to think about what he might have done to her while she had been out cold in his house. Despite her mind running with the most evil and darkest of ideas, her heart kept pushing back. She shouldn’t jump to conclusions like that.
A sound from the other side of the door had her head snapping toward it. She jumped from the bed, all concerns for the fact she was only in a shirt forgotten. Her eyes darted around the room for a weapon of some sort. Settling on a rather large vase she grabbed it, testing the weight, and moving quickly behind the door. The sonofabitch was in for another head bashing.
The door opened slowly, and he entered silently—no doubt so he could molest her or something. His back to her and she sucked in a breath, taking her opportunity to bring the vase down. Unfortunately, she misjudged the distance and the bright orange monstrosity of décor shattered against his shoulder.
“Jesus fucking Christ!” His shout shook the room, and the tray of hot coffee and food he had been holding crashed to the floor.
The male whirled around, his gorgeous gem-like eyes flashing and narrowing on her. Lexi watched him clench his hands into fists, his jaw line tensing before he released it all in a breath and his whole body relaxed.
“Is it always going to be this way with you?” His voice was like smooth caramel in a holy-crap-can-that-even-be-legal kinda way. It took Lexi about ten seconds to realize he had even been speaking real words. She narrowed her eyes at him as his words reached her brain. What did he mean by always?
“What in the hell did you do to me? Did you drug me? I swear I know the police chief. If you touched me in any way—”
“I am actually insulted you would even conceive of such a thing. I might be a bastard, but I am not a rapist, Lexi Thorne.” The shocking color his eyes turned made her instantly regret her words.
She opened her mouth to snap back but she stopped herself. Why had she said that to him? What in the world possessed her to say such a thing? The clear insult and pain in those eyes of his went right to her heart, and she lowered her gaze, color flushing her cheeks.
“I don’t know why I said that, I’m sorry. Please forgive me.” What was wrong with her? Was it the fact her sister was moving away from her emotionally? She had someone she loved, someone her daughter adored. Did that leave room for her, the crazy aunt that didn’t like anyone?
“You’re forgiven, of course. I can understand your trepidation waking up in a strange place. But be assured I will never lay a hand on you, until you ask me to.” His low and rather overly confident tone sent a shiver over her skin, and it wasn’t one of fear.
Lexi cleared her throat, stepping back and hissing—then swearing and stepping to the side only to hiss and swear again.
“Fuck! Dammit!” Shards of the failed weapon of choice cut into her bare feet.
She felt a sudden shift as strong arms wrapped around her and she was lifted into the air. A memory from last night came back to her—he had carried her last night as well, she remembered now. She had passed out in his arms as he bore her weight back to his home. God, she felt like such a bitch right then. More than that—geez, she had called him something so abhorrent that most men would have thrown her out. And here he was carrying her clumsy ass again because she was bleeding in his presence for the second time in twenty-four hours.
He set her on the bed and she watched him as he vanished from the room. His hair was dark mahogany, or was it teak, no maybe redwood… hell, it kept changing. It fascinated her—it was so many different colors of brown and red. His skin was a deep tan like coffee with just a touch of cream. Blinking, she growled low at herself. She was being an idiot. It didn’t matter that his eyes were the color of her favorite gemstone, or that his hair was like a kaleidoscope of deep autumn colors in the light. She swore she was not going to get involved with a man, not even one as handsome as him.
“Stubborn wench.” Deus frowned again at his reflection, turning his face left then right. He tilted his head down to look at the odd hair, then at his face. He opened his mouth to inspect the teeth, then clicked them closed. He could not get over the eyes, something about them, it pulled at a memory. Where had he seen eyes like this before?
At some point last night, when he had met this infuriating woman, his body had shifted from that fifty-something male he had been to this. He rubbed his fingers over the days’ worth of stubble on his jaw and wondered if he should bother shaving or not. He usually did not hold a form long enough to bother with it. Still, as long as he was going to be around her, he should make an effort. This form was her ideal one after all. He shook his head and looked at the now faint scar along his hairline where she had nearly taken his head off only hours before. Damn woman was out of her mind.
“Trust me to find the one with a few loose screws.” He finished running the hand towel under the faucet, pushing the niggling feeling of familiarity to the back of his mind and heading back into the room.
He paused, watching her pick at the shards of vase sticking out of the wounds on the soles of her feet, leaving little pools of blood on the bed sheets. Not that he cared, he would buy more. But seriously, this woman was a walking disaster zone.
“If you keep doing that you will make it bleed more.” Her eyes moved to his and she flashed him that annoyed, angry gaze again.
This female was majorly hot and cold—well, more like scorching and sub-zero. How was he supposed to read that? One second she seemed to be staring at him like she could not take her eyes off him, and the next she was considering what object to try and crack his head open with next.
“What are you, a doctor?” Okay, this was angry Lexi. He filed that away in his new Lexi filing cabinet in his head and walked toward her, reaching out for her ankle. She yanked her leg away almost violently and he waited. She was severely skittish. He lifted an eyebrow at her.
The blush that crept up her neck told him she knew what she’d done was stupid, and she slowly pushed her foot toward him. Gently, almost as if he were tending a timid animal, he reached out and slid his hand around her ankle, lifting it and setting it down in his lap. Her eyes stayed locked to him the whole time as he wiped the cloth over her blood-covered foot and picked out the bits of orange ceramic. He wiped over her arch and she tried to yank her foot away again, but this time he held it still, his eyes turning to her quizzically.
“Ticklish?” A small smile pulled at his lips as she glared daggers back. Oh, if looks could kill.
“Shut up.” Okay, score one for the demon.
Deus chuckled low and finished with her left foot, then tapped his lap indicating he wanted the right one. She hesitated for a moment before obliging him, and then he continued with his care of her wounds.
“So you know my name, which is more than a little creepy. I would like to even this up a bit if you don’t mind?”
“Oh, do forgive me. I’m Deus Aidoneus, pleasure to meet you in person. I know you because I have some of your photographs in the house. When I moved here I got some from the store in town. Ira was very proud of you, and he talks a lot. When I saw you last night I recognized you from your photo in the store.”
He watched as she blinked a few times and turned her gaze
from his. The enigma that is Lexi Thorne. Finishing with her feet, he kept hold of her right ankle, his fingers against her skin.
“So why were you hiding out in the forest in the dark?”
Her eyes lifted to his and for a second he saw something fragile inside. He wanted to see more of that Lexi—the one she kept hidden behind this impenetrable wall.
“Why do you care?” Annnnd there it goes, hidden again.
“No reason, just wanted to know why you were wandering around my property in the dark. Considering you injured yourself, I wanted to be sure you were not going to sue or anything.” He dropped her foot and stood, looking down at her, making sure he kept it all business. She seemed very uncomfortable with any talk that was even remotely personal or friendly.
“Sue? I’m not going to sue. If you must know, you arrogant ass, I had an argument with my sister. I was heading to our family hunting cabin, that just happens to be near your land, and got a little lost. I had no intention of hurting myself. Now, as you can see, I am more than better, so where are my pants? I would like to leave!” Deus just stared at her as she snapped her mouth closed and swore under her breath. He had this effect on people, men and woman. If they desired to spill their hearts to him, they did.
“They were ripped. I have some sweats I can give you, but they will be rather large and not conducive to hiking in the snow.”
“They were not ripped that badly. They will do until I make it to the cabin, Mr. Aidoneus. Please get my clothes so I can leave.”
This was not going as well as he had hoped. The fact the Seers all seemed immune to his natural aphrodisiac qualities seemed to be a disadvantage in this situation. He needed to pull on his years of seducing women—not all of them had been easy targets, some he had actually had to work hard to get near. This one, however, he had never wanted to get near a woman as much as this one. She was prickly and spicy and everything he usually didn’t like about females; he preferred woman who were more receptive, softer and willing. She was standoffish, argumentative, frustrating, irritable—and by the gods, he had never wanted to pin a woman to a fucking wall as much as this one. He would kiss her until she submitted and melted against him.
Wrath's Patience (Seven Deadly Sins Book 3) Page 21