by Rose Haven
“I think she’s coming around.”
Lana felt a warm hand holding hers as she became aware of her surroundings. Her body felt heavy, like she’d been drugged, and she immediately rolled to her side to reach for Cole.
But there was nothing there. No bed. No Cole. “Cole?” she muttered as she opened her eyes.
Cole was there, holding her hand, but a few other men were also watching her. She gasped and sat straight up.
“Easy,” Cole said soothingly. “Easy, Lana. You’re in no danger here. This is Damien. He’s the leader of the Slavante Brotherhood, and these are some of my brothers. Do you remember what happened?”
She glanced warily around. She didn’t recognize anything. “Cole. Where am I?”
“This is my place.” He cleared his throat. “This is not quite how I wanted to show it to you.”
Her eyes widened as she took in the expensive apartment. The memories of the last encounter she had slammed into her, and she immediately looked down to make sure she hadn’t turned into a demon. “What happened?”
“I lured you into a false sleep to help you deal with the pain. We analyzed your blood. Cresher hadn’t put more than a few drops of demon blood in, so the affects were temporary. We tested it again an hour ago, and it had already dissipated inside you. No more demon blood and no nasty side effects,” Cole said. She saw the relief in his eyes.
“I killed the demon,” she said slowly.
The men exchanged looks. “Yes, and that’s both a good and bad thing.”
“I killed the demon. Why would that be a bad thing?”
“The death of a demon is definitely a good thing, but the fact that you were even able to is a bad thing. Between all of us, we didn’t know even know if we could bring him down. The effects of its blood in you were swift and mind blowing. When I went back to check on the body, it was gone. Cresher is going to harvest the blood and trying again. If he infuses enough humans, it’s going to be a problem.”
Cole squeezed her hand. “But that’s an issue for another day. How do you feel?”
“A little uncomfortable,” she murmured as the men stared at her. “But otherwise, I’m okay.”
Damien bowed. “We’ll leave you two alone. I’m glad you’re okay, Lana. It’s not easy for a hybrid to lose his Coyquiha. You gave him quite a scare.”
Her jaw dropped just a little when the other men bowed respectively and exited the room. “Cole? What just happened? I felt like I was their queen or something.”
He dropped down to the seat next to her and pulled her into his lap. After a long kiss, he finally explained. “Killing a demon to protect me did more than just earn their respect. They’re indebted to you for the rest of their lives. And we live a long time.”
Her heart skipped a beat. “How long?”
“It depends on the hybrid. I’m not as strong as some of the others, so I’m probably on my last leg. I’ve probably got about eighty to a hundred years left in me.”
She opened her mouth to ask how old he was now, but she was too afraid of the answer. “What’s a Coyquiha?”
“It’s a forever love.” He suddenly slid off the couch and knelt down on one knee. “As hybrids, we only have one true soul mate. Most of us never find it. You’re mine. I knew the second I laid eyes on you. I knew that I was going to love you for the rest of my life.”
She gasped. Of course, she’d already known that she loved Cole, but she thought she was just being silly. A few good tumbles in the bed did not usually make a lasting relationship, but there was a cord of trust that pulled her towards him. She would have given him her life. She almost did.
Coyquiha. She let the word roll around in her head. It sounded right. It sounded true. “I love you too,” she whispered.
“Marry me,” he said. “I promise, I’ll do whatever it takes to protect you. I’ll spend the rest of my life making you smile and making you feel safe.”
“You’ll spend the rest of my life driving me insane,” she said with a laugh. She leaned down and kissed him long and deep. “And that’s a proposition I can’t say no to.”
“I thought I’d lost you,” he murmured as he nuzzled his face into her hair.
“You thought you lost me? All I could think of was protecting you.” She shuddered. “I was driven by demon blood, but I was still me.”
“You were one bad ass stripper,” he said with a smile.
She gasped and punched him lightly in the arm. “I’m an entertainer,” she said indignantly.
“You’re my entertainer,” he said as he captured her mouth again. “And I’m never letting you go.”
She melted against him, and although he was slow and unhurried, he made her body sing. Slowly, he stripped off her clothes and pushed her down into the sofa. As he slipped inside of her, she knew she’d found her happiness. Here, in his arms, she would spend the rest of her days loving and loved.
THE END
Demon Romance
The Final Seduction
Submission to the Dark Forbidden Mate Series Book Three
Lucile Wild
Demon Romance: The Final Seduction
Chapter One
The dark clouds that had threatened to open all morning finally made good on their promise. As Jade raced from the car to the door, the skies opened up and drenched her. She shrieked a little, pulled the collar of her jacket up, and tried desperately to find the right key. Finally, after fumbling and cursing, the brass key slid in, and she swung the door open.
It was always the smell that hit her first. Leather, ink, and dust. As always, a small shiver of excitement ran through her. She’d only opened the used bookstore a few months before, but she still couldn’t contain her glee whenever she stepped through the threshold.
She flipped on the lights, stripped off her coat, and rubbed her hands together. Weathered Pages had a following before she’d even opened the store, and as the weekend drew close, she was expecting quite a turn out. Plus, she had shipment of new books coming in tomorrow, and she needed to make room. So there was no time to stop and appreciate her little nook. She needed to get to work.
Jade flipped the open sign and booted up the computer. Although she kept an antique register on the counter for decoration, she needed the computer for inventory. Immediately, she checked on her shipment.
It looked as though it would be right on time.
Her grandfather had collected rare and antique books all his life, and when he passed away, her father had inherited them. As a busy corporate man, her father had little interest in the books, and so they had collected dust for years. Many people in the antique book world contacted him in hopes of buying some of the collection, but her father had refused. It wasn’t that he wanted to part with the books.
It was just that he never had time.
Jade, on the other hand, was passionate about the books. When she learned of their existence, she spent hours in the storage unit, opening boxes and perusing them. And when her father passed away a year ago, the books became hers.
But Jade didn’t just want to sell. She wanted to immerse herself completely in the world. And so Weathered Pages was born, and on day one, collectors from all over the country were there to see what she had to offer. Within the first month, Jade became an expert on buying and selling rare books, and she was already turning a profit.
She answered a few emails about inventory and contacted a few reclusive clients about some older books on her shelves. Jade was so lost in her computer that she didn’t even hear the bell ring.
“Are you the proprietor?”
Jade blinked a looked up. A handsome man in his forties gave her a stunning smile, and she cocked her head just a little. His mannerisms and eyes seemed way older than the fit man before her. Something about him made her uneasy. “Yes. I’m Jade,” she said when she remember her manners. “How can I help you?”
“I’ve heard that you have a rather unique selection of books. I am a collector of older books specific to
a particular subject. I’m looking for books dealing in mysticism.”
Jade pushed her glasses up her nose. A headache was forming in the back of her eyes. It almost felt like something was tugging at her brain. “Mysticism? Are you interested in religious sectors or occults? I have some historical accounts of Celtic rituals and some African pagan ceremonies.”
“I might certainly be interested in those, but I’m short on time. Do you have anything on demonology?”
The headache was getting worse as the man stared at her. “Demons? I have plenty of books that discuss demons of quite a few religions, but I don’t have anything that only deals only with demonology. If you are short on time, you’re welcome to leave your contact information. I can email you with more details of my selection.”
“Email?” The man scowled. “I do not think so. I’ll be back at a later date. If you get any books that you think might interest me, please set them aside. I promise that I am willing to pay handsomely to add to my collection.”
“I don’t normally set aside books. I would be more than happy to do a search and see if I can’t order any. Would you like to leave your number so we can discuss the books before you pay for them?”
“No. I have no doubt that you’ll be getting that will interest me. Simply set them aside, and do not sell them anyone else,” he said smoothly.
The pain in her head increased, and she frowned. She was about to tell him that wasn’t how she operated, but he glided out the door.
Once again, she failed to hear the bell.
Jade fumbled in her junk drawer for some aspirin and swallowed three of them dry. After a few seconds, the headache receded, and she blew out her breath. That man was intense.
It wasn’t rare that she dealt with strange men, but most of them were eager to leave their contact information behind. At the very least, they sent assistants to leave their contact information behind.
“Whatever,” she muttered.
The bell above the door jingled, and Jade looked up. “Dale!” she said with a warm smile. “Where have you been hiding?” She came around the corner to hug the old man, one of the few connections she had left of her grandfather.
“My dear,” Dale said as he stroked her hair. She could feel the tremors and his body, and she frowned. Clearly, he wasn’t doing well. “I’d heard that you opened a store with your grandfather’s books. This is quite an impressive place.”
“Thank you! It’s only been four months, but I’m really getting the hang of it!”
He smiled feebly, but there was a look of worry in his eyes. “Did you keep any of his books in storage, or did you sell them all?”
Jade bit her bottom lip. “I haven’t sold his entire collection, but what’s left is on display. Was there a certain book you wanted? I’m so sorry. I would have absolutely put it aside for you! Give me the title, and I’ll look it up for you.”
He waved his hands and shook his head. “It’s nothing like that. It’s just that some of his books are more valuable than you might think. Have you had any issues since you opened the store?”
“Issues? Like what?”
“Break-ins. Threats. Strange people coming in?”
Jade laughed. “Dale, it’s an antique bookstore. Lots of strange people come in. But I’ve never had anything to worry about. I’ve priced all these books. While plenty are old, I don’t have anything here that’s worth millions of dollars.”
His hand whipped out, and he gripped her arm tightly. “Jade, if I thought for a second that I could convince you to shut this store down, I would. Those books were never meant to be sold. Your grandfather told your father that, and I wish more than anything that your father had passed along that information to you.”
Jade gently wrenched away. Dale sometimes had some episodes of dementia and early onset Alzheimer’s. “Dale, it’s just a bunch of old dusty books. It’s fine,” she said softly. “Did you drive here? Can I call someone to pick you up?”
He frowned. “Be careful, Jade. You’re putting yourself in harm’s way. You must be on your toes at all times.”
“I’m going to be fine, Dale. Trust me. Nothing here is worth that much, okay?”
He gave her one final look of concern before he kissed her on the forehead and slipped out the door. She watched out the window to make sure he got to his car safely before shrugging it off. Clearly, the storm was bringing out the strange and paranoid.
Chapter Two
The stench of alcohol and cigarettes surrounded him, but Damien Cladeaux was used to it. It was almost like home, but even it didn’t do anything to dull his inner turmoil. For decades, the same night haunted him over and over again.
“We could have it all, Damien. We could roam the streets freely again. How could that not be something that you want?”
“We do roam the streets freely, brother. Why can’t you accept an era of freedom and peace?”
“Freedom and peace? You move every ten years so people don’t become suspicious that you’re not aging. You haven’t joined in on the old celebrations in decades. You haven’t truly feasted since the turn of the century.”
“Humans are our equals.”
“And they should be our slaves. You’ll never be by my side.”
“I am loyal to the Slavante Brotherhood.”
“And what about me, Damien? Would you kill your flesh and blood for a seat at the head of the table?”
He tossed back another glass of whiskey and knocked the empty glass on the bar. He could not kill his brother, and now more than a few humans had paid the price.
And some of the brotherhood as well.
Every day, he remembered raising the sword to give his brother an honorable ending. And every day, he relived the moment he’d put his sword down and slipped away in the shadows, condemning his brother’s future victims.
Cresher had managed to call forth a demon. And the demon had called a nest of hybrids that destroyed many. The only bright side was that it drew his second hand man to Sierra, his Coyquiha, a hybrid’s better half.
And Cresher hadn’t summoned a demon just to kill. He experimented with the demon’s blood, mixing it with a human to see the reaction. It caused Lana to morph into a killing machine. Thankfully, she focused only on protecting her own love and destroyed the demon instead. The rancid blood dissipated, and she married Cole, another brother in the group.
And now there was no nest of hybrids and no demon to protect Cresher. This was Damien’s chance to act, but Cresher had disappeared. No one had heard from him in months.
With nothing better to do, Damien drank.
“Don’t you look good enough to eat?”
Damien spared a quick look to his left as the sultry voice wrapped around him. A beautiful young black woman dressed in a skin tight red dress took the seat next to him. The look she gave him was full of seduction and the promise of a night he would remember for a long time.
“He already has a date tonight.”
Damien cursed as two familiar shadows flocked behind the woman. She cast one look at the men and quickly slid off the stool. “He’s all yours.”
Damien pounded another one as Preston and Cole slid onto the barstools. “I thought I told you two that I wanted to be alone tonight,” he muttered.
“I don’t think you going home with her is considered alone,” Preston said gruffly. He held his hand up to the bartender, pointed to Damien, and slashed his finger across his throat.
Apparently, Damien was cut off. “Don’t you two have wives at home now,” he said as he glared.
“Yes, and the sooner we get home, the happier they’ll be. Pay your tab. We need to talk some place more private,” Cole muttered.
“If this is about my drinking, I’ve told you two time and time again…”
“It’s about Cresher.”
Damien immediately reached for his wallet. If Cresher had surfaced, Damien was ready to act. This had gone on for far too long. He tossed far too much money on the counter and f
ollowed his two best men out. The rain was still pounding on the streets as they folded themselves into a car.
“Has he surfaced?” Damien demanded.
“An elderly man came into the station this morning ranting that his best friend’s granddaughter was in danger. The granddaughter owns an antique bookstore, and we went out to talk with her. She claims the man is simply disoriented, but I pulled the tapes just to make sure there wasn’t something strange happening. Cresher was her first client today,” Cole muttered.
“Did the man recognize Cresher?” Damien asked.
“No, and when we asked for specifics, the man clammed up. Said we’d never believe him anyways. The bookstore owner seems to have no idea what’s going on, but if she did, she wouldn’t talk to us.”
Preston shifted in his seat. “I called someone that I know who deal in rare books. They said her shop is only a few months old and most of the collection comes from her grandfather. The books themselves are fairly inexpensive in the scheme of antique books, but they are priceless to a small group of collectors. She’s not dealing in first editions or ancient manuscripts. It’s mostly just journals.”
Damien sat back in the seat and frowned. “I have most of the notable old books. What could he be possibly looking for in an antique bookstore?”
“Maybe he’s not looking for a book,” Cole said darkly. “Maybe he’s just there for the girl. She’s not part of any hybrid family. I checked. But that doesn’t mean that she’s not valuable to him. Some of my contacts say that these bookstores are a great way for pockets of criminals to ship very rare and expensive books. The shipment looks legit, and they track it down and buy it for pennies. So we don’t have any way of knowing whether she’s legit or not.”
“Well? What are we waiting for? Let’s go check it out.”
Preston hesitated. “The other brothers are concerned.”
Damien stiffened in rage, but there was really nothing he could be upset about. He was supposed to kill Cresher decades ago, and he didn’t. All of those deaths were his fault. He couldn’t blame the others for wondering if he could finish the job now. “I just want this to be over,” he said tiredly.