She took a deep breath and sighed.
This room smelt like Taig.
It smelt of spices and warmth.
It comforted her.
Lealandra set the beer bottle down on the side cupboard and sat on the bed. Her dark red coat blended into his bedcovers. She ran her hands outwards, feeling the lingering presence of him in the room and on the bedclothes. At least she would feel safe while she slept, imagining him wrapped around her, holding her close. She shut her eyes and fell back onto the bed. She wanted to ask him to hold her but that would only lead to trouble and she still wasn’t sure what Taig wanted from her or if he still had feelings for her.
Her focus shifted to him.
Was he lying in the living room wondering what she was thinking, just as she wanted to know what was going on in his mind?
Rolling away so her back was to him, she frowned when she noticed the slim black phone beside his bed.
Matthew.
She picked up the phone and dialled his number. It was early enough in the morning that he might already be awake. If he wasn’t, then she hoped it waked him. She had to speak to him. The call connected and she listened to it ringing at the other end.
“Hello.” The sound of Matthew’s sleepy voice swept her back to her old life and a time when magic had been all about having fun.
Now it was anything but that. It was dangerous and she was forever on the verge of losing control to it. She longed to go back to those happier times and then her senses shifted to Taig and she didn’t want to go back after all. Even though her magic was more powerful now and life was difficult, no longer carefree and full of laughter, she wouldn’t sacrifice it and her tentative relationship with Taig in order to return to her old life.
“It’s Lea.” She swallowed and didn’t give him a chance to say anything. “I know my coven have contacted you. Don’t come to New York, Matthew. It’s too dangerous and I... I don’t want to see you hurt too.”
He yawned and she heard material rustling as he moved.
“Lea, what’s wrong? This Gregori calls me out of the blue and says that you’re in trouble and need a new Counter-Balance, and now you’re calling me to tell me to keep away? I’m coming to see you. Just tell me where you are.”
“No.” Her heart beat faster at the thought of him trying to find her. She didn’t want him anywhere near the city. “I mean it, Matthew, stay away. I’ll be fine. I have all the protection I need, but I might lose that if you come here. I can’t guarantee your safety. Once I’ve made it through this, I’ll come to see you and everyone, I promise.”
“Does your protection have a name?” There was a smile in Matthew’s voice. She smiled too. When she had left Taig, she had spent a few days with her old coven before leaving for her new one. Matthew had been her shoulder to cry on. He had held her together, spending almost a day listening to her and letting her cry all she wanted and not saying a word out of place. Without him, she would have fallen apart completely.
“I think you know his name.”
“I also know that I’m not needed then. I won’t come... but if you do need me, you only have to call, okay?”
“Okay.” She nodded and held the phone for a moment. “Don’t tell Gregori. Just... go abroad for a while or something.”
“You’re that worried? You don’t need to answer that. I can almost see your frown from here.” He laughed and then sighed. “I’ve always wanted to visit Europe. Maybe our coven will go out of town for a while. How does a month sound?”
“Perfect... thank you.”
“No, thank you. I might have walked into a war and the last person I want to fight with is you. Call me if you need me and I’ll be right there. Stay safe, yes?” The concern in his tone touched her and she held the phone tighter, wishing she could see Matthew and hug him instead. He would be a powerful ally in her time of need, and could help her survive her ascension, but she couldn’t risk him. It was better that he stayed away until everything blew over.
“You too.” She ended the call before she faltered and asked him to come to her, and her attention moved back to Taig.
The impulse to go to him was strong and almost impossible to resist. She wanted to talk to him, to unlock his secrets and ease his pain. It laced his aura, a physical thing that she could sense as if it were her own.
Her brow furrowed and she stared at the wall, not seeing it. Just feeling him.
Lealandra knew that he didn’t like himself and that his part-demon part-human status left him feeling as though he had nowhere to belong. If she could find her voice, she would tell him that he did belong somewhere—he belonged here on Earth, with her.
But she couldn’t.
Countless times, she had planned to tell him that and every time she had failed. No matter how often she had practiced it in mirrors or recited it to herself while she showered, whenever it came time to say it to his face, the words fled her lips and her voice died.
She lay on the bed, not brave or strong enough to face him and make him believe her.
He would argue against it and she would crumble.
She had to find the right moment, the precise point when Taig would actually believe her, and then she would try to tell him. All she could do right now was let him know that he wasn’t alone in the world and that her feelings for him hadn’t changed. If he wanted her, all he had to do was come and claim her, to make her see that he still felt something for her too and the games he was playing were only because he had been hurt.
Lealandra stood and removed her coat, folding it neatly and placing it on one of the side tables. She pulled her boots off and then began to unlace her corset but stopped. It had to be now. This was the perfect moment for giving him at least a sign that she still loved him.
Her footsteps were silent on the beech wood floorboards. She crossed the room to the door and hesitated on the threshold.
Taig lay on his back on the couch, bare chest exposed and one arm under his head and the pillow. His other hand rested on his stomach. The slow rise and fall of it said that he was asleep. Well, at least one of them was relaxed enough to sleep. Clearly, thoughts of her hadn’t been playing on his mind and keeping him awake after all. She crept into the room. The light was low with the black blinds down and she knocked the coffee table. Taig’s empty beer bottle wobbled at the corner nearest him, threatening to fall and spoil the moment, and then stilled again. She edged around the table and eased to her knees at his head.
Her fingers trembled as she brought her hand up and swept the long strands of black hair from his face, clearing his eyes. He really was beautiful when he wasn’t shooting his mouth off or trying to make her angry. She ran her fingers over his brow, following the line of his dark eyebrows, and then trailed them slowly down over the contours of his cheekbones and jaw.
He frowned and turned his face towards her before opening his eyes. Their black depths met hers and she smiled.
Confusion filled his eyes.
Lealandra leaned towards him, closed her eyes, and brushed her lips against his. It took him a moment to respond and butterflies danced in her stomach and chest when he kept the kiss light. His tongue traced her lips and hers came to meet it, softly tangling with his and luring it into her mouth. He tasted of beer but she didn’t mind. She was sure that she did too. She dropped her hand to his neck and leaned in closer, wanting more, and then reminded herself that this wasn’t supposed to go anywhere, not tonight, and if she kept going, it would do just that.
After one final brush of her lips over his, she pulled back.
Taig stared at her, eyes wide and lips parted.
“That’s how I kiss goodnight,” she whispered and rose to her feet.
His gaze tracked her across the room. She trembled inside, wondering if her goodnight kiss had been a wise idea and whether Taig would come to her.
She fell flat on her front on the bed and sighed.
It had been a stupid idea.
She touched her lips.
It had been nice though.
She focused on Taig and realised that he was doing the same, using his power to sense her.
The ball was in his court now.
CHAPTER 8
Taig stalked around his apartment, still amazed that he had managed to resist going to Lealandra last night and still cursing himself for it at the same time. She had kissed him, and she had given him those come to bed eyes that she had used on him so many times in the past.
And he had been sorely tempted.
But something had stopped him. Some ridiculous sense of chivalry had kept him pinned to his uncomfortable makeshift bed. By the time he had convinced himself that maybe she wanted him to go to her, maybe she wanted to try again and this wasn’t just fear controlling her actions and making her seek comfort from him, she had fallen asleep. He had sensed her soft rhythmic breathing and heard the steady beat of her heart in the silence of his apartment.
Now he was in a foul mood, but that wasn’t a bad thing. He had business to attend to tonight and normally things went quicker when he was pissed off.
Lealandra stood in the kitchen, doing something to the stove that had seen little action since he had moved in.
Which was more action than he had seen in six years.
Taig walked past Lealandra and stared at her, his gaze raking down the length of her shiny black hair to her creamy shoulders and the tight deep purple strapless corset she wore. He diverted course, heading for her rather than the en-suite bathroom in his bedroom. His hands came up as he neared her, ready to claim her waist and pull her against him. He needed to kiss her again. He needed to taste her and be inside her.
She turned to face him.
One hand immediately dropped to his side while his other ran through his hair, nonchalantly pushing the black mess out of his face. He smiled his best smile, the one that always got her hot and bothered.
Her cheeks burned and then she turned away and attacked something with a spatula.
“What’s for breakfast, honey?” Taig said and, when she didn’t answer, moved around her and leaned against the black counter-top. He folded his arms across his bare chest so his biceps bulged and his pectorals tensed, and peered down at the pan she had on the stove.
Her gaze darted to his chest and then back to the pan.
“Eggs,” she mumbled and stabbed at them with the spatula.
Taig sidestepped, distancing himself in case she started hitting him with it next. Whatever the poor eggs had done to her, it had been bad. Still, at least he wasn’t the only one grouchy this evening. Abstinence made the heart grow darker.
His was about as black as they came.
Lealandra moved towards him and he sidestepped again, and then again when she picked up a knife and started dicing the hell out of some perfectly innocent potatoes.
“Damn it,” she muttered and sucked her left index finger.
He frowned and caught her wrist, pulling her finger from her mouth. “Let me see.”
She tried to tug her arm free but he tightened his grip. She huffed and rolled her eyes while he inspected the cut on her fingertip. A tiny bead of blood blossomed to the surface when he squeezed it. The way she had been cutting the potatoes, he wasn’t surprised that she had cut herself too.
“Go a little easier on them,” Taig whispered and then impulsively pressed a kiss to her cut. Her blood coated his lower lip and he licked it clean. His power surged and his eyes popped wide. Claws shredded his fingertips, dark brown scaly points breaking through the skin. He quickly backed away from Lealandra and rubbed his mouth, trying to get her blood out. His hands shook as he struggled to control his demon side. He didn’t want Lealandra to see it. He spat in the stainless steel sink and then grabbed a glass from the rack on the drainer.
The skin on his fingers tore apart when he turned on the tap and filled the glass. He took a great gulp of the water and choked, coughing it back up into the sink. The glass in his hand smashed, cutting his palm to ribbons, and blood dripped down into the sink, mixing with the water and turning the pieces of glass into islands on a swirling red sea.
“Calm down.” Lealandra’s tone was soft and soothing, a melody he wanted to listen to above all else, but he couldn’t focus on her, couldn’t stop the hunger to change and shed his human mask. Her hand came to rest against his bare back, sliding over his skin in a way that stirred his blood. He felt her power seep into him, straining to reach his, and he let go a fraction, enough that they would meet. He needed the connection, needed to feel that she was here with him and that this wasn’t frightening her. “Taig.”
His demon side pushed again, threatening to expose his true form to her, and panic joined the emotions rushing in his blood. He couldn’t let her see it. If she saw it, she would never love him. She could never love a monster.
He pulled out of her grasp and walked away. Blood ran down his arm when he raised his hand.
“Taig?”
Without looking at her, he stalked to the bedroom door.
“Eat without me.” He slammed the door, headed into the bathroom and threw that door closed too before locking it.
Red eyes stared back at him from the mirror. He spat into the sink again, convinced that her blood was still controlling him to a degree. It wasn’t, but it had been, and it had been frightening to feel as though he wasn’t in control of himself. Was that how Lealandra felt when the power demanded things of her, when it grew too strong for her to contain? He shuddered and rinsed the blood off his hand. The wound was already healing but it was going to make his work more difficult tonight. He picked a few splinters of glass out of his palm and dropped them into the sink.
A sense of balance returned inside him.
His claws receded, the skin repairing itself until his hands looked human again.
Just how he liked them.
Taig cast a glance towards his right, to where the kitchen stood on the other side of the wall. To Lealandra.
Had he frightened her? She hadn’t felt afraid when she had touched him. He laughed at himself for thinking that. Of course he had scared her. He was a demon and had been on the brink of showing her just what lurked beneath the human skin she liked so much. No sane person wouldn’t be frightened.
And no one as beautiful as her could truly love a monster like him.
“Taig?” Her voice was loud through the bathroom door. “Come and eat with me.”
There wasn’t even the slightest tremble in her voice and she didn’t feel scared. Only her usual calm acceptance came through on his senses. If she was afraid, she was hiding it well.
“In a minute,” he said in a gruff voice, needing more time to gather himself and regain total control.
His eyes altered back, the red dying away and leaving them black.
“Come out,” she whispered. “You don’t scare me.”
He wished he could bring himself to believe that.
“Taig.” There was a note of impatience in her voice now.
He unlocked the door. If she wanted to see him that badly, she could let herself in. The door opened and Lealandra stood on the threshold, her wide grey eyes meeting his in the mirror. He turned to face her, keeping his hands behind his back.
“Let me see.” She tried to peer around him.
Taig considered not doing as she had asked and then slowly brought his hands out from behind him. He watched her closely, gauging her reaction. She frowned at his hands and he turned them over, showing her, letting her see that there was nothing to be frightened of now.
“There, all man again, no mon—”
“You’re always a man, Taig,” she cut him off and reached out for his hands.
He lowered them before she couldn’t touch them. She had told him the same thing before and he hadn’t believed her back then either. She didn’t know the real him and couldn’t judge whether he was man or monster until she did, and that was something that was never going to happen. His demonic side was dangerous. When he surrendered to
it, his impulse to kill was too strong to fully control. His father had told him to change often during his youth, to learn to control himself, but then he had left him alone in the world. His demon side had despaired.
His human side had blamed his demonic one.
If his father hadn’t been a demon, his mother would have still been alive. He was sure that his mother had died at the hands of a demon because of his father. His demonic blood was responsible for their deaths. Blood that ran in Taig’s veins now.
Taig clenched his fists when the urge to change struck him again, his demon side pushing for freedom and snarling within him, outraged by his thoughts. He moved away from Lealandra, as far as he could in the confines of the pale bathroom, backing towards the shower cubicle.
“I’ll skip breakfast.” He grimaced when his demon side pushed again, threatening to tear the skin from his fingers with his claws.
It subsided and settled when he caught Lealandra’s steady gaze. Not a hint of fear touched it and her heartbeat was stable. How could she stand there so calmly when she knew what dark desires were surging through him? How could she look at him without fear or disgust?
She took a step towards him.
He didn’t move.
Her reaction fascinated both sides of him—the demon and the man.
“I need a shower.” His quickly spoken words stopped her in her tracks and she glanced at the large shower cubicle at his back, and then her gaze returned to him. He raised his eyebrows and smiled. “You could always skip breakfast too and join me.”
Lealandra frowned, her expression dark and unimpressed.
“I think I’ll skip the shower and have breakfast.” She stepped over to the door and hovered on the threshold. She looked back at him, opened her mouth as though she was going to say something, and then left.
Taig stood there a moment, trying to make sense of things. His head was full of enough complicated things without adding in trying to understand Lealandra. He pushed her reactions to him out of his mind and told himself to forget about them. She was just being herself. She had always managed to tie him in knots and confuse the hell out of him. He had never understood why she had wanted to be with him for all that time but he had been thankful. For a few months of his life, he had felt human, even when his demon had prowled just below the surface.
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