Stone Cold Touch

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Stone Cold Touch Page 7

by Jennifer L. Armentrout


  CHAPTER SIX

  I almost rushed Roth right then and threw my arms around him, but a low growl rumbled from behind me. At first I thought it was Abbot’s response, but when I realized it was coming from Zayne, I couldn’t move.

  Roth tilted his head to the side, watching me as a slow, roguish smile graced his lips. “Are you...seriously growling at me, Stony?”

  “I’m about to do a lot more than growl.”

  He chuckled. “That’s not very appreciative.”

  I turned to Zayne and my heart leaped into my throat, stopping whatever I was going to say. He glared at Roth in a way I couldn’t understand, especially not after what Roth had done for him, as if it... I shook my head.

  “It’s all right,” Abbot interrupted, surprising me. “Let them talk.”

  Wait. What? He was okay with me talking to Roth? Abbot’s appeasement knocked me into motion. My heart did another leap.

  Zayne opened his mouth and then clamped it shut. Our gazes held for a moment and then he nodded stiffly, resigned. “I’ll wait for you.”

  I wanted to tell him that it wasn’t necessary, but the oddity of the statement stole my words. Taking a deep breath, I turned to Roth.

  “Let’s walk?” he suggested.

  There was a coldness laced through his words that left me unsettled. I told myself it was only because we were around so many Wardens, but my knees felt weak as I walked toward him. His unique scent invaded my senses, causing my skin to flush in spite of the chilled air. He turned as I reached his side and started toward the faint path Zayne and I had worn into the ground over the many years we’d traveled to the tree house in the nearby woods.

  Skin tingling along the back of my neck, I glanced over my shoulder and drew in a tiny breath. The Wardens were still standing guard in front of the compound, but I didn’t see Abbot anymore. Zayne was sitting at the bottom of the wide steps, leaning against one of the large white marble columns. Cayman and the other demon were gone. It was obvious they didn’t fear for Roth’s safety. Or they didn’t care.

  My head swung back around and my breath caught when I saw Roth’s profile. A dizzying amount of relief crashed into me as it struck me once more that he was alive and he was here.

  So many things bubbled up the moment we stepped past the crumbled stone retaining wall that surrounded the manicured lawn and under the thick, bare branches that rattled like dry bones in the breeze. But I couldn’t speak. The clog was back, centered right in my throat.

  Coherent thought clicked off, and I found myself moving around him. Roth stopped midstep as I did what I’d wanted to do since he’d shown up tonight. Like a mini rocket, I threw myself at him.

  Roth stumbled back a step as my arms went around his neck. The moment my body came into contact with his, pressure clamped down on my chest. I squeezed my eyes shut against the violent tide of emotions. They were so tangled together—relief and fear, desperation and resolution, a deep craving that rivaled the need I struggled with every day, and anxiety—that I couldn’t make sense of them, or understand how I was feeling so much.

  As I nestled into his chest, I could feel his heart pounding fast and realized then that his arms were at his sides. A cloud of nervousness passed over me as I lifted my head, searching out his eyes in the darkness, but they were closed and thick lashes fanned the tips of his cheekbones. His face was pale in the thin slivers of moonlight breaking through the branches, lips pulled in a taut line.

  Another shiver of apprehension slipped over my skin. When I started to pull back, to give voice to the near fear growing like a weed in the pit of my stomach, his arms finally—finally—encircled me. He pulled me tight against him, our bodies flush and pressed together in a way that reminded me of the night we’d found the Lesser Key. The muscles low in my stomach tightened as his hand smoothed up my spine, tangling in my hair. Bambi followed the caress, as if she sought to get closer to her true owner.

  There was so much warmth in the embrace that it pushed the shadows away. I squeezed my eyes shut and soaked him up. I didn’t know what his return meant, what it signified for us, but it didn’t matter in that moment.

  He dropped his head to mine and murmured something in a deep, guttural voice that I was positive wasn’t anywhere close to the English language.

  “You’re hurt,” he said, his voice rough.

  All I could do was shake my head as I balled my hands into the back of his shirt. I was feeling too many conflicting emotions. Some of them were mine, but there was also a distant quality to them I couldn’t quite understand.

  He slid his other hand to my arm. When his fingers slipped under the sleeve of my hoodie, I bit my lip. “Your arm,” he said, managing to curve his fingers just below my elbow. “How did it happen?”

  “A Warden did it,” I said, rubbing my cheek against his chest like a cat with a full belly, ready for a nap. A sigh escaped me. “He said I smelled like a demon.”

  Roth drew back and his chin tipped down. Dark eyebrows slashed together. “A Warden did this? Was it iron?”

  I nodded, but this wasn’t what I wanted to talk about. “Roth—”

  “What about Bambi?” he demanded, withdrawing his hand from my hair. “She would’ve protected you.”

  “Bambi’s fine.” I forced a smile, but nothing about his features softened. “She ate the Warden.”

  His brows shot up. “Well...”

  “Yeah.” I drew the word out slowly. I knew I should ask him about why I suddenly felt like an Upper Level demon to the Wardens, but as bad as it was, that wasn’t at the top of my priority list. “I don’t know where to begin. How are you even here?”

  Roth’s golden eyes held mine for a moment and then he pulled away. I mourned the loss of warmth immediately. “Well, there’s these things called portals and I popped into—”

  “That’s not what I meant.” Before, his smart-ass responses had grated on my every last nerve, but now there was a relief in being irritated with him. “You were in the devil’s trap with Paimon. You went to the pits.”

  “I did.” He folded his arms and took another step back from me. “It wasn’t fun, in case you were wondering.”

  I winced. “I didn’t think it was, but I don’t understand. The pits are permanent.”

  One shoulder rose gracefully. “They are, but I am the Boss’s favorite and I’d done what the Boss had wanted—stopped a Lilin from being created. Or at least we thought I had.”

  “So you were let out for good behavior?”

  “After a day or two. The Boss wasn’t in a big hurry. No surprise there.”

  My heart squeezed. “But the pits had to be...” My voice cracked as I shook my head.

  “It wasn’t a vacation, shortie. Imagine your skin being flayed and burned off for a forty-eight hour period.” He shrugged again, as though it was no big deal to be virtually burned alive, and brushed the dark hair off his forehead. “But it could have been worse. Paimon’s dumb ass is still in there.”

  Meaning Roth could still be there. Two days had to be Hell, literally, but if he’d been let out that fast... “Where have you been?”

  His gaze flicked up to the bare branches. “Around.”

  “Around?” The word rang with disbelief.

  “Here and there, up and down.” One side of his lips curled up but it lacked sincerity. “Hanging out.”

  I stared at him. “Why didn’t you come see me?” That question came out like the anthem of every pissed-off girlfriend out there but the problem with that—I wasn’t his girlfriend.

  Roth arched a brow and opened his mouth, but then he didn’t say anything. I reached out to touch him, but he drew back. A muscle flickered along his jaw. The unease and coldness from earlier returned.

  “I’ve been so worried,” I said, pulling my hand back to my chest. “I’ve missed you. I’ve mourned you. But I hoped that you were okay. This...” I pulled out the necklace. The cracked stone was a sad statement. “I found this at your apartment, on the roof. Y
ou did put it there, didn’t you? After you left the pits. You—”

  “I did. So?”

  “So?” I whispered, feeling about as empty as an echo. “Why would you do that and then not come see me?”

  He said nothing.

  Ice trickled into my veins. “Do you know how upset I was? I felt lost without—”

  “You were not lost without me,” he cut in, his gaze suddenly fixed on me once more. “You had Zayne.”

  “Yes, but that’s not—”

  “You had him,” he repeated, drawing in a deep breath. “Why do you think I took his place in that trap? So you could have him.”

  Maybe I was slower than normal, but I wasn’t following where this was heading. “I know you did that for me and I can never express how truly grateful I am for it, but I didn’t want to lose you. I never wanted to.” The words kept spilling out in the worst case of verbal diarrhea known to humankind, angels or demons. “I don’t know what we had, but we had something—something that meant a lot to me.”

  He stared at me a moment and an array of emotions played over his striking face before he shook his head. “You’ve been through a lot recently. I get that you’re upset, but like I said, you don’t need me.”

  Frustration burned like acid in my blood. “Roth, I—”

  “Don’t say it.” He held up a hand. “Don’t say it.”

  “You don’t even know what I was going to say!” Hell, I didn’t know what was going to come out of my mouth.

  “I don’t want to know.” Roth thrust his fingers through his hair in a quick, jerky manner. “This is why we needed to talk. I’m back. I’m going to be around because of the Lilin, but that’s the only reason I’m here. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

  A part of my brain totally got what he was saying, but my heart was another story. His words didn’t make sense to the stupid muscle. Things didn’t add up. “No. I don’t.”

  His lashes lowered as he muttered a curse. “Look, when I was topside before, with you? It was...” He gave a little shake of his head and then seemed to force out the rest. “It was fun, shortie.”

  “Fun?” I repeated dumbly.

  He nodded stiffly. “And that was all. It was just fun while it was happening.”

  I jerked back as if I’d been slapped in the face. “It wasn’t just fun to me.”

  “Of course it wasn’t.” Roth turned away, appearing to inspect a tree trunk as though it held the answers to life. “You had no experience in any of that. You’d never even kissed anyone before. It was only natural for you to catch feelings.”

  A lick of pain lit up my chest. “But not natural for you?”

  “No. Not at all. For several reasons. Many of them boring, but logical. I’m the Crown Prince of Hell, not like your Stony.”

  “You’re not just the next Crown Prince! You’re more than that. So let’s not start that crap again.” Roth had never seen himself as anything but another prince out of the hundreds of princes that had come before him. He was even a little insecure about it, and I wanted to be more careful with those feelings, but I was losing control, anger and hurt giving way to a level of needy desperation that was embarrassing. I held out the ring. “This proves it was more than just fun to you. You fixed the necklace and you left it there for me to find.”

  “And that proves something?” he queried softly.

  “Yes!” The cool metal bit into my palm. “Why would you do that if you didn’t care?”

  His shoulders stiffened. “I didn’t say I didn’t care, shortie.”

  “Then what the Hell are you saying?”

  “I’m saying that what we did isn’t going to happen again. That’s what I’m saying.”

  I sucked in a breath, but it got stuck. “But the necklace—”

  He twisted around so quickly I stumbled back. There was something dark about his face, the way his skin thinned over his bones. “Does it matter why, Layla? It’s just a stupid necklace.”

  “That’s bullshit! You knew how much this necklace meant to me.” It was the only thing that linked me to my mother—to who I really was, and he knew that.

  “It doesn’t matter.” He stalked forward, and I had to force myself not to move away. His pupils started to dilate. “I’m not interested in rekindling a pointless infatuation. Does that break it down enough for you? Do you understand now? I’m a demon, Layla. A full-blooded one who isn’t ashamed of what my kind does. And you are only half demon. You want to be like your precious Wardens and Stony. Being in my presence should fill you with disgust. Why would you want to be standing here, let alone be with me?”

  The pain spread from my chest, settling in my bones. “So this has been, what—a game to you? I don’t believe that!” I held my ground, hand shaking around the ring. “You want me to believe that you’re nothing more than a demon, but the way you kissed me, what you said to me before you were taken in that trap, proves otherwise.”

  “You’re so naive. A kiss? A few sentimental words uttered before I thought I’d spend eternity being tortured? You can’t judge me for a couple of momentary lapses, Layla. It’s who I am that matters.” He was an inch from me, his hands curling into fists at his sides. “I am the Crown Prince, whether you want to hear it or not.”

  “That means nothing,” I cried, squeezing the ring—the proof that there was something in him. Evidence he had a conscience...and a heart. “You’re lying and there has to be a reason.”

  He turned his head, dragging both his hands through his hair this time. “You know what I am. I told you. I covet pretty things. I like to take things that aren’t mine to have.” Then he looked at me and smiled. The chill of it sent shivers dancing over my skin. “You really thought I cared for you, didn’t you? I wanted you, Layla. You eased my boredom. That’s all.”

  I staggered back, wanting to stop his words from meaning anything to me, from hurting, but there was no stopping it. In an instant, I realized I should’ve known better. This whole time, I should’ve known better. After all, he was right. I had no experience with these things—with guys and relationships. If I...if I had meant something to him, he would’ve come to me before tonight: because if it was the other way around, his would’ve been the first place I went.

  And that was just sad.

  “I really don’t know what I was thinking. I usually don’t go for virgins. They are so very messy. Someone like your classmate Eva is far more entertaining and skilled in that department. Is she still around?” He sighed, shrugging casually, but a muscle ticked along his jaw. “Like I said, I should’ve realized you’d catch feelings, shortie. My bad.”

  I felt the blood drain from my face. His endearment seemed unnecessarily cruel, paired with what he was saying. “Don’t call me that.”

  “Whatever you say.” Roth spun away. The line of his spine was unnaturally stiff. “Bambi will remain with you.”

  I blinked back the tears, refusing to let them fall. “I don’t—”

  “I don’t care if that’s not what you want. She stays with you.”

  I stared at his back, feeling choked from the inside out. “You’re a bastard.”

  He glanced over his shoulder at me, expression stark in the moonlight. “Goodbye, Layla.”

  And then he was gone.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  I didn’t remember much of the short walk back to the house. There was an ache in my chest that rivaled what I’d felt when I’d seen Roth in the devil’s trap. It was cold and hot at the same time, burning and icing over my insides. A knot had formed in the back of my throat and the dampness behind my eyes increased with every step.

  What Roth had said did more than just sting, and the horrible weight of the pressure settling between my breasts warned that something might have been broken in there, even if I hadn’t acknowledged how deep my feelings for him had run.

  I usually don’t go for virgins.

  God, had I been that foolish, that wrong about him? My cheeks felt scalded as his words replay
ed themselves. Each one had been barb-tipped, spoken with the intent to maim, and they had. My hands trembled as I folded my arms across my chest, ignoring the pain of my stitches pulling. But that hug...the way he’d held me close? It had meant nothing to him? I couldn’t easily accept that. Or the fact that those tortured words he’d cast at me before the trap had taken him—words I’d held on to—had been spoken so carelessly. But maybe I was just that naive. Catch feelings? He’d been right. I’d caught them and I had hugged them close. And now look.

  Under the pain, a different kind of anguish formed in the back of my throat—a scorching thirst took root. I could feel it in every cell, even in the ends of my teeth. The need to feed rose swiftly and without hesitation. My emotions were all over the place, fueling the illicit desire.

  I wiped at my cheeks angrily as I reached the driveway. Wardens

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