by Lynn Hagen
Cadeym cursed under his breath. They’d killed plenty of hellhounds, and although it was difficult, a hellhound could make it back with a new body.
This was the guy who’d bitten Donnchadh, who had nearly cost the demon warrior his life. Cadeym wanted to repay the favor, only he’d make sure Ari stayed dead this time.
“Come with me and I won’t unleash my friends on this pretty little town,” Ari said. “I have plenty of men here, and you wouldn’t want a bunch of humans bitten, would you?”
Cadeym curled his lip. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”
The hellhounds were using some component that counteracted Phoenyx’s ability to heal. That was how Donnchadh had nearly died. If he went anywhere with Ari, Cadeym knew he wouldn’t make it out alive.
Ari stepped closer, narrowing his blunt brows. “I’m going to kill every last demon warrior for what you guys did. You ruined my great plans, but I can always start over. You and your brethren, however, won’t. This time I’ll make sure Panahasi can’t save you guys. Now come with me, or this town will pay the price.” He curled his lip. “Call out for help and they’ll be a dozen dead humans before that help arrives.”
Electricity crackled inside Cadeym. He wanted to blast the bastard with lightning bolts so badly that he could taste the need.
A mother and her little girl passed between them, the woman excusing them as they walked by. The girl couldn’t have been any older than two or three. She had an ice cream cone in her hand, and her dark pigtails waved back and forth as she walked.
Ari looked at them and smiled. “How about I start with those two?” He jerked his chin toward the park where a young couple was pushing a stroller. “Or them?”
A man Cadeym hadn’t seen was seated on the bench. He smiled maliciously at Cadeym before he got up and followed the couple. The hellhound got so close that Cadeym was surprised the couple didn’t turn around.
Humans were so damn oblivious to their surroundings, a false sense of safety in such a small town. The woman bent and brushed a loving hand over the infant’s head, and Cadeym’s stomach clenched.
“Why do you need me to come with you?” Cadeym asked. “You could kill me right here.”
“Oh no.” Ari shook his head. “And give the warriors a chance to rescue you? I don’t think so.”
The hellhound touched the guy’s shoulder, and the couple stopped. They looked at him, and the woman appeared to be on the verge of crying.
That was what hellhounds did. Drained all the happiness out of someone.
“One nod and Ezekiel will kill them, along with their child,” Ari said.
Grinding his teeth, Cadeym agreed to go with Ari, the humans unaware of the sacrifice he was making for them and the others in Maple Grove who had no idea how close they were to dying a painful death.
Chapter Five
Getty’s jaw dropped when he walked into his house. There was shattered glass everywhere, and Bimbo was screaming at the top of her lungs at Getty’s father.
“You worthless piece of shit! You can’t even support me! I should’ve never gotten with you, you broke-dick bastard!” She slapped her hands on the dining room table.
That was something Getty didn’t want to know about. “What in the hell is going on?” he demanded.
It wasn’t as if they were breaking their own things. From the pieces on the floor, Getty saw that his only wine glass set had been destroyed. They had been a gift from his mother.
His father gave a deep, throaty laugh. “Support you? Why in the fuck should I take care of you when you’re opening your legs to any man who’ll pay you? Do I look that big of a fool to you, Amanda?”
Oh yeah. That was her name. “You two need to chill out,” Getty said. “Go for a walk, and while you’re out there, find a damn job and your own place to live.”
Getty normally wasn’t this vocal when it came to his father, but those wine glasses had meant a lot to Getty.
Bimbo—because Getty loved calling her that—picked up the salad bowl on the table and whipped it at Getty’s father’s head. His father ducked, and the bowl hit the wall, shattering.
“I wouldn’t have to get money from other sources if you knew how to hold down a job, Dick. I don’t even consider you a man. Real men know how to take care of theirs. All you know how to do is drink and slide between my legs.”
“Stop!” Getty gagged as he held up his hands. “I don’t want to hear any of that.” He turned to her. “Throw one more thing of mine and I’ll put you out on your ass.”
Which was what he should do, anyway. She contributed nothing and wasn’t even family. Getty didn’t owe her a damn thing, but he was certain he couldn’t throw her out. Not physically. One, she would be petty enough to call the cops and say Getty assaulted her.
Two, Bimbo wasn’t a small woman. She wasn’t fat, but she was thick and could probably kick his ass or claw him to death with those long nails she loved to wear.
“Throw one more thing at me and I won’t be responsible for what I do,” Getty’s dad threatened.
Getty was shocked. He’d never heard his father threaten a woman before. He and Getty’s mother had gotten into some bad fights, but he’d never raised a hand to her. Getty hadn’t thought his father was the type to strike a woman.
“Dad!”
His father glared at him. “What? She ain’t no woman. She’s a gold-digging slut who thinks if she puts out, a man should cater to her every fucking need.”
Getty was floored. Not even in the worst arguments his parents went through had his father talked this way. It was as if he was staring at a stranger.
Bimbo shrieked and picked up a drinking glass, whipping it at her boyfriend. Getty’s dad snarled and rounded the table. Bimbo rushed behind Getty, as if he could stop his father from getting to her.
Getty held his arms out. “Both of you need to stop acting so childish. Adults talk about their problems. Only toddlers resort to this.”
A solid headache formed, and Getty wished he were already at Donnchadh’s place. He’d rather be anywhere but here.
His father came up short and shot daggers at her. “Get away from my son. He’s not going to help you, bitch.”
Wow. Just…wow.
She grabbed Getty’s shoulders, and he felt her nails digging into him. Getty winced and tried to pull away, but she had a tight grip on him.
“Stop.” He tried to pull away again, but she wouldn’t let him go. “You’re hurting me!”
Then she flew backward, landing on her ass. Getty spun, wondering what in the hell just happened.
“See,” his father said as he jabbed a finger at her. “You’re so drunk that you can’t even stand up straight. Take your ass upstairs and calm the fuck down.”
Getty was still trying to figure out how she’d flown away from him. It hadn’t been a drunken stagger. He hadn’t even smelled booze on her breath.
She pushed to her feet, flipped them the bird, and stomped upstairs.
“Women,” his father growled as he walked into the kitchen. He didn’t even offer an apology for their behavior. Getty was so pissed that he wanted to smack them both.
He stormed to his room and packed a bag with clothes and personal things. Then he grabbed his laptop bag and shoved his laptop inside, along with the cords and other things he would need.
Getty was glad he’d agreed to stay at Donnchadh’s. There was so much stress at home that he knew he wouldn’t be able to work. He didn’t even care that he was the one leaving, just as long as he didn’t have to deal with those two.
They could clean up the glass. There was no way Getty was going to clean up after their fight.
He dropped onto the bed and cradled his head in his hands. How had his life gotten this bad? First his dad and Bimbo moved in, making his life miserable, and then a hellhound had tried to kill him.
What Getty wouldn’t give to go back to normalcy, where his father was living somewhere else and Getty didn’t know otherworldly thin
gs existed.
Then you wouldn’t have meet Donnchadh. As crazy as it was, Getty would’ve regretted not having the guy in his life. It might’ve started out as a one-night stand, but he’d become the only sane thing right now. He was kind and sexy, and Getty didn’t know how he’d gotten so lucky.
The guy was even willing to let Getty escape for a while.
His head jerked up when he felt something brush his arm. Getty looked around and then sighed.
He really did need a vacation. He wasn’t sure how much more of this he could handle. Too bad he couldn’t ask Pete to come over and kick them out.
His brother never got involved when it came to their father. He hated Richard Jones with a passion. If it had been any other person who Getty was having issues with, Pete would’ve been there to help him.
Family truly sucked sometimes.
Getty got up and pulled the strap to his gym over one shoulder, the strap to his laptop bag over the other. He didn’t want his father to know he was leaving. Bimbo might try to break into his room.
Getty went to the window and dropped his bags out onto the lawn, right behind the row of bushes under the windowsill. He’d get them when he went outside. Once he closed his window, he left his room, made sure he locked his bedroom door, and headed down the hallway.
His dad was cleaning up the glass. The shards made a tinkling sound as they gathered in the dustpan.
“Why do you stay with her?”
His dad didn’t look up. He just kept sweeping, his shoulders hunched, his posture bent. “I guess I don’t want to be alone.”
Getty would take being alone over dating someone who made his life miserable. He never understood people like that. Were some so desperate for companionship that they’d… Getty sighed. Getting away from this wasn’t the only reason he was going to Donnchadh’s. He, too, was desperate for companionship.
But at least Donnchadh didn’t treat him like crap. And if he did, Getty would be out of there real fast.
He left his father to clean up the mess as he walked out of the house, grabbed his bags, and loaded them into the car. He didn’t bother to look up to see if Bimbo was watching him.
Getty slid behind the wheel and drove back to town, questioning his motives. Was he hoping that Donnchadh was the real thing, that the guy could make him happy? Was he so desperate to get away that he would run to anyone who offered shelter from the brewing storm at home?
Donnchadh wasn’t even human. He was a demon, for fuck’s sake. A demon. That should’ve terrified Getty. Instead, his heart quickened when he pulled in by Bistro.
Donnchadh was standing outside the coffee shop, smiling at Getty. Fuck, he was so damn handsome. That smile lit up his eyes. Donnchadh walked toward the car and opened the driver’s door, offering his hand.
Getty took it and got out.
“Ready?”
“Are we taking my car since your vehicle situation is complicated?” Getty wondered if Donnchadh was broke. Why wouldn’t he own a car? God, he hoped the guy wasn’t a deadbeat. Getty had enough of them in his life already.
Donnchadh winked at him. “I have a much better mode of transportation.” He went to the backseat and grabbed Getty’s bags, slinging them over his shoulder.
That wasn’t ambiguous at all.
“Follow me.” Donnchadh led them inside Bistro. Getty figured the guy wanted to get a drink before they headed out, but he led them toward the men’s room.
“We’re staying in the bathroom?” Getty was teasing, but he was also worried. He knew nothing about Donnchadh, other than he was nice, not human, and could fuck like a dream.
“Have a little faith in me.” Donnchadh walked into the men’s room.
Getty had very little faith in anyone. He thought his mother remarrying was a great thing, having someone who didn’t treat her like crap. But she’d moved to Paris and pretty much forgotten she had children. Pete hated their father so much that he didn’t care if Getty’s life was dismal. His father? He didn’t even want to go there.
Faith was something he lacked, but followed Donnchadh. The guy stood by the door when Getty walked in.
“Take my hand, shorty.” Donnchadh held his hand out, and Getty took it. “Just remember that I’m right here with you, okay?”
Getty was clueless and starting to worry about Donnchadh’s mental health.
Then Donnchadh turned the light off and pulled Getty forward. What the fuck? He felt as if he were falling. Getty screamed and gripped Donnchadh’s muscled arm, clinging to him for dear life. He also felt as if he’d throw up. Getty became dizzy seconds before the bathroom became lighter.
He would’ve hit the floor if Donnchadh hadn’t grabbed onto him. Getty sucked in a deep breath and opened his eyes.
Frozen, he looked around. This wasn’t the bathroom at Bistro. They were in a city, it was nighttime, and there were plenty of people walking around. How in the hell had he gotten there? How was this even possible?
“Welcome to the demon realm,” Donnchadh said. “This is where I live.”
Demon realm.
Getty’s heart thundered as he clung to Donnchadh. “How is this possible?”
Donnchadh cupped Getty’s face and kissed him. When he pulled away, he frowned. “Trust me. Your father won’t see what we’re doing. Now kiss me back. I’ve been dying to do this since you dipped out on me at the motel.”
Getty started to pull back. He was dazed, confused, and frightened. But Donnchadh’s lips were soft, warm, and Getty was helpless when Donnchadh curled his arms around him and kissed Getty like he mattered.
This was also a bit disconcerting since Getty had never showed public displays of affection. Being with Donnchadh was scary and exciting, and Getty’s heart refused to slow down.
“That’s what I’m talking about,” Donnchadh murmured against Getty’s lips. “So fucking sweet.”
This time when he pulled away, he took Getty’s hand and led him to an apartment building. There wasn’t a front door. How the hell were they supposed to get inside?
Donnchadh led them to a dark alley on the side of the building. Getty was afraid to go. Dark alleys always made him think of criminals lurking in the shadows, ready to attack.
But that wasn’t what happened. They walked forward, and Getty found himself in an apartment.
“Just so you know, I’m freaking out.” Getty stood in the middle of the lavish living room. Fuck. This place was amazing. Modern, sleek, and right in front of Getty were windows that spanned the length of the wall, floor-to-ceiling, and had brown gossamer curtains.
To his left was a cream tiled wall, a low black shelf that ran the length at the bottom, and a large flat-screen anchored dead center. In the middle of the living room was a white sectional with black-and-white fluffy throw pillows, a plush black carpet in the center, and a marble coffee table.
Donnchadh lead him to the windows. They didn’t have to pull the curtains aside. Getty saw right through them. The one thing he noticed right away was the lack of traffic on the street.
Where were the cars?
Donnchadh moved in behind Getty, chest to back, and placed his hands on Getty’s hips. “This is Serenity City. It’s always dark here, and, in my opinion, has the best wings you can find.”
“Wings?” Getty turned his head and looked at Donnchadh. “As in wings you can eat or wings you fly with?”
“Wings you can eat.” Donnchadh winked. “We also have a grocery store, bank, fancy restaurants, bars, and you’ve got to try a shake at Jake’s Java Hut.”
It was an actual city. “Where is the demon realm?”
“On the same plane as the human realm, but through a veil. Humans can’t accidently stumble onto it. Only demons can bring people here, unless someone knows how to use the Black River.”
This had to be a dream. When Donnchadh had offered Getty a reprieve, Getty had no flipping clue he would be going to another realm. His brain tried to make sense of everything. “It’s like a movie I wat
ched. When the non-magical people walked through the doors of some building, it was just a large foyer with an information desk. When the main characters walked through the door, they were in the magical headquarters.”
Donnchadh smiled. “Now you’re getting it, only we don’t have doors to get to here, but you get the gist. The same thing goes for the fairy realm, although I’m not sure how you get in since I’ve never tried.”
“Fairies?” Getty felt weak in the knees.
“Shorty, you have so much to learn.”
Donnchadh kissed along his jaw, and everything the guy was telling him was forgotten. It was astonishing how Donnchadh could do that to him, make Getty’s brain scramble with a mere touch.
Getty moaned as he turned in Donnchadh’s arms, tilting his head so the guy could kiss his way across Getty’s throat. Then they started moving, and Donnchadh led Getty to the couch.
Getty’s breath hitched as Donnchadh undressed him. Never in a million years when Getty woke this morning would he have thought he would be in a different realm about to have sex with Donnchadh again.
He didn’t think they would have sex again, ever. Not when they’d been two strangers passing in the night. Sure, Donnchadh had saved him, and they kept running into each other, but… Fuck, Getty was hard, his cock slapping his stomach while Donnchadh tossed Getty’s clothes aside.
“Fucking beautiful.” Donnchadh brushed his knuckles over Getty’s erection.
Getty shivered. Not because he was cold but because he was the only one naked. He felt exposed, vulnerable, and desperate to see Donnchadh’s naked body.
He got his wish. Donnchadh slipped his shirt off and let it fall to the floor. Getty was going to pass out by the man’s sheer beauty. Wholly masculine, muscled, and flawless.
Donnchadh yanked his boots off, removed his pants and underwear, and tossed aside his socks.
Getty was staring at perfection.
Then Donnchadh turned, and Getty saw the jagged scars on his back. He was too afraid to ask how Donnchadh had gotten them, too afraid the guy would call a halt to this if Getty mentioned them.