I chuckle. “Yes.”
A voice comes from the intercom affixed to his right ear. “Have to go, nice talking to you, Dinah.”
“Same, see you around.”
Stephan smiles and saunters away.
“He is yummy too,” says Isir as she approaches, a green bottle with a cork in her hand.
“Erm, can’t deny that,” I admit. “But then again, I’ve not met a supernatural that’s not yummy so far.”
Isir laughs, retreating behind the bar to pour us two glasses of golden liquid. The luscious smell of honey and herbs I can’t name reach my nose as my mouth waters.
“Gods, what is this?” I say, accepting the offered glass and inhaling. A soft moan leaves my lips.
“Fae wine,” Isir replies, taking a sip, a low sound of satisfaction leaving her lips. “It’s much stronger than any liquor crafted by humans, so be care—”
I take a massive gulp, my eyes closing in bliss as the liquid slides down my throat, warming a path down my stomach. This must be what ambrosia tastes like.
“My gods, I want to drink a full bottle,” I say, opening my eyes.
Isir chuckles, eyes shining with mischief. “If you do that, chances are you’ll end up dancing on a table, probably stripping.”
I mock scowl. “Should have said that a little sooner.”
Isir shrugs. “Oops. One glass won’t hurt.”
“What would happen if a human drank this?” I ask.
Isir licks her lips, tasting another gulp. “A glass will have them doing the dance in the table routine, a bottle would probably kill them.”
“Ah. Well, that’s a shame,” I muse as I take a more decent sip, savoring it.
“Indeed, only supernaturals can manage it just fine.”
Another employee, a small, blonde female comes to ask something to Isir and I stand, draining my glass.
“Thanks for the wine, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Isir is always at the penthouse when I arrive, sweaty and shaking after training. She mostly dozes off, but I don’t worry. The penthouse is warded against all demons that aren’t Nox himself, and besides, Bryce is always nearby.
“You could stay, we could watch the security cameras and get indecently drunk,” Isir offers with a wink.
I sigh. “I would like that, but I have to work on my project.”
“Okay then, be safe,” Isir says, chocolate eyes too serious for my liking.
“Yes, mother,” I grumble, rolling my eyes.
She snorts.
I walk to the back exit where the limo is usually parked. I close the door behind me before looking up and my jaw drops.
Derek is kissing Bryce senseless, pressing the blond against the limo, hands set possessively on Bryce’s hips. My bodyguard/chauffeur has one of his hands tangled in Derek’s dark hair, the other sliding under the male’s black t-shirt and running up his broad back. A low growl escapes Derek’s throat, and he pushes against Bryce who chuckles, pulling back for air, eyes closed in bliss as Derek kisses and nibbles his neck.
Dear gods.
This has to be the hottest thing I’ve seen since I caught Spence and Xander making out on the couch a few months ago. Really, what’s with me and walking into couples?
Biting my lip, I take a step back and try to go back inside without disturbing them. Bryce’s eyes open and he looks at me, a flicker of surprise shining in his bright azure irises. His pupils have turned into cat-like slits.
Derek freezes and looks at me over his shoulder, his eyes crimson instead of amber.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” I say, turning bright red and unable to stop looking surprised.
Derek takes a moment to pull away from Bryce. He runs a hand through his silky midnight hair as his eyes go back to their amber shade but remain warm with lust. “No worries,” he says before looking at Bryce. “I should get back.”
Bryce smiles at him. “See you later, then?”
Derek nods. “Definitely.”
Bryce leans forward and gives Derek a quick kiss. Derek smiles and walks towards the door. I move aside and give him a shy smile. He winks, making me giggle.
Bryce regards me with a small grin, blue eyes back to normal. “Ready to go?”
“Erm, yeah.”
He opens the door for me and I climb inside.
I keep my gaze on the window and bite my thumb without saying anything as he starts the car and drives away.
“Why are you so shocked?” Bryce asks.
I turn to look at his eyes in the rearview mirror. “I’m not shocked, just a bit surprised, I didn’t know you were—I mean, I’ve seen you flirt with Isir… oh gods, nevermind it’s none of my business.”
I feel my neck and cheeks heat as I turn away, biting my lip.
“I’m not gay,” says Bryce. “Isir and I’ve known each other for a very long time, we’ve had our dalliances.”
“Bisexual then,” I venture.
Bryce chuckles. “Humans and their habit of putting everything into neat little categories.”
“I’m not human,” I counter, still feeling a bit odd every time I state it.
“But you still think like one,” Bryce says with a wink. “Females, males, it doesn’t make a difference to me as long as I want them and they want me back.”
I bite my lip. “Sounds nice.”
I want to jump out of the window as soon as I’ve said it and focus on my hands instead. Something about his open, nonchalant statement makes me restless. And I realize it’s because I wish I could feel that confident about who I am and what I want. Who I want.
Amethyst eyes flash in my mind’s eye and I struggle to block the thought from forming.
“Please don’t mistake me, I’m not judging,” I almost whisper.
“I didn’t think you were,” Bryce responds and I lift my eyes to meet his honest azure gaze.
I take a deep breath and pull up some courage. “I just wish I had your confidence and Isir’s. I feel… adrift. I’ve always been scared and have held back from so much.”
From relationships, real relationships, from wanting someone without fear. I cast my mind back to that night weeks ago, when Lisa kissed me. What would have happened if I’d kissed her back? I wanted to, I can at least admit that to myself now.
“Ah well, you have a very long time to live,” Bryce encourages.
I snort. “That’s if Kazzian doesn’t kill me first.”
Bryce turns towards me, we’re already inside the parking lot. “He won’t.”
I take a deep breath, believing him.
Wishing I hadn’t been so stupid, hoping that one day I can erase from my mind the voices of all those who screamed at me what a giant freak I was. Hating that I let myself believe they were right and suppressed my desires to avoid even more slurs.
Never again, I promise myself. Never again.
CHAPTER 13
DINAH
Don’t panic, don’t panic, I chant mentally.
Nox has a powerful arm around my neck, the other holding my arms behind my back. His cool, minty breath ruffles my wild, sweat-damp hair; the heat of his body warming my back. His clutch is far from painful, almost loose, but I am quite aware of the colossal strength in his Greek-god-like body.
“Breathe,” he instructs, and I obey. “You know how to get out of this one.”
I swallow hard and close my eyes, breathing in his cedar, smoke, and fire scent. I lift my right foot and stomp him with more strength than I had intended. I force myself not to think too much about it as his hold on my neck slightly loosens. Then I send my head back. He moves before I hit him, but draws back and releases one of my arms. I turn on the spot, grasp his wrist, and twist his arm behind his back, inverting our positions. Despite being almost six-foot-tall, I have to get on my tiptoes, but I’m free.
“Good,” he approves.
I step away, still not quite comfortable being so close to him while being sweaty and disgusting. Though I can’t sme
ll anything more than lavender on my skin.
Nox turns to face me. A lock of raven hair has fallen on his face and he tucks it behind his ear. My treacherous eyes follow the movement and my cheeks heat from more than exertion. He pretends he doesn’t notice.
“It’s best if you take the chance to break your opponent’s arm, or give a blow to the head if you end up in that position,” he instructs. “At this stage, you’re not strong enough to immobilize, your best chance is causing enough damage to run away.”
“Okay,” I agree. “Hey, is there any chance I can learn to poof?”
He sighs. “It’s called portalling, and yes, once you get your full power back.”
I smile at this. No more traffic!
“However, it is one of the most difficult skills, so it will take practice,” Nox explains.
I nod.
“Focus on creating a mental shield first, it’s more likely to be useful.”
I scowl. “I think poof-portalling is more useful, I could escape before anyone tries to get inside my head.”
He shakes his head. “No, because a demon or a Nephilim with more training can follow you, portalling leaves a trace of energy that can be detected.”
“I suck at mental shields, maybe portalling I can get right,” I argue.
He fixes me with that severe look that makes me feel like a small child. “You don’t even have the power for portalling yet, building your mental shield is a priority.”
“Portalling is also a priority,” I grit out.
“No.”
“Yes.”
He pinches his nose bridge. “If Isir can manipulate you, you stand no chance whatsoever against one of my kind.”
“I managed to fight of Kazzian’s illusion,” I say, struggling to keep my temper at bay.
Nox scoffs. “No, you didn’t. The device that was draining your power also protected you from being hypnotized.”
“What?!” I demand.
My stomach twists with the disgust of knowing someone messed with my body in such a way rekindling.
“The magic woven into that thing was complex,” Nox explains coolly. “It drained your power and kept you cocooned all at once. Protecting you from demon interference, but weakening you at the same time.”
“And you’ve seen fit to keep that little detail to yourself, huh?” My voice is shaking and I feel feverish. “Just as grandma kept me in the dark for more than two decades about what I am, just as fuck knows who kept my power from me. Everyone seems to think I don’t deserve to know what’s happening inside my own damn body!”
“Calm down,” Nox commands.
His shape blurs as his amethyst and silver aura comes into view. Molten heat builds inside my stomach, I feel as if I’m boiling, and I hate him and I hate not knowing the whole truth about myself.
“Listen carefully,” I growl at him. “You are going to tell me everything you know about who I am and what was done to me and that deal you had with my grandma, and you’re going to do that right now or you can fuck off!”
His face remains stony and I want to beat it into emotion as tears blur my sight.
“Dinah, you need to—”
“Don’t you dare tell me what I need to do!” I cry.
He takes a step closer and I growl.
“Stay away from me.”
He takes yet another step closer and I lift my arm reflexively as something explodes inside my chest. Raw energy courses through my veins from my heart to my right arm and part of me wants to stop it, but the bigger part wants to set every last thing on fire. A jet of orange energy blasts from my hand and flies towards Nox.
I register the flicker of surprise in his amethyst eyes as I attempt to stop myself, but can’t. The energy burning inside my chest is demanding an exit and I’m rooted in place, feeling as if I’m watching in slow motion as the beam of orange energy comes into contact with an invisible shield around Nox that flares like fire before turning amethyst. I can barely see him behind the rush of my power and his shield, grateful that he’s more powerful than I am. Both terrified and excited to see the fire that has lived trapped inside me for so long.
After several agonizing seconds, I can feel the flare dimming in my center, and I force myself to close my fist and rein in my power. To my surprise, it works. The molten heat that had burned my stomach with anger has dissipated, warmth settling inside my chest, right over and around my heart.
Nox’s shield stays in place while I force my arm to go down, then it flickers away. His eyes still flash with mild surprise, but otherwise, he seems unfazed.
“I-I had no idea I could do that,” I stammer. “I didn’t mean to, I swear. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”
He simply stares at me, unmoving as the insidious fear rises—What if he decides to retaliate for my outburst?
As usual, he seems to read my unease and arches a black brow. “I know that. You have no reason to apologize.”
I look at him incredulously. “I zapped you!”
He shrugs. “I saw it coming. To be honest, I was expecting fire, not light power, but that’s a good thing.”
“It is?” I ask, stunned by how blasé he’s being.
He nods. “It is. You’re recovering faster than I expected.”
I grimace. “I better… learn how to keep my temperament in check.”
His lips quirk in a small grin. “It would be a wise idea, yes.”
I lick my lips, feeling chastened but not ready to fully concede. “I’ve not forgotten why I was pissed off with you, however,” I note.
He grows serious again. “I wouldn’t expect you to. Why don’t we go back to the penthouse?”
I take a tentative step towards him. “And then you’ll tell me everything.”
His eyes examine me with their usual intensity. “Do you have classes today?”
“No.”
“Then I will tell you and show you what I know.”
I nod, taking a resolute step towards him. He closes the rest of the distance, and I hold his shoulders reflexively and close my eyes. Portalling has gotten a bit easier. My stomach doesn’t want to crawl out of my throat every time now.
We separate as soon as we arrive at the penthouse, and he opens the door for me. Just then, I notice that my outburst of power evaporated my sweat and left behind a curious smell that resembles fire and sunlight on my skin.
My stomach growls like an angry wolf. Nox makes his way towards the kitchen in long strides and I follow him, sitting on a stool and leaning on the cool granite counter. I can feel Isir in the penthouse. She must be in her room. Nox gathers bacon, eggs, and other ingredients from the fridge. My mouth waters.
“Magdalena summoned me when she was 25-years-old,” Nox says as he deftly cracks eggs into a bowl, startling me despite my expressed desire to get some answers out of him. “The kind of power necessary for such a feat is great, especially for a mortal who’s not aligned with dark magic.”
He glances at me for a moment before beginning to chop onions.
“Why did she do it?” I ask, unable to help myself.
Nox sighs. “I was…” he hesitates. “I had been slumbering for a long time, she awakened me, and in return, I’d be bound to do a favor to her.”
“What did she ask for?”
“For me to keep her bloodline safe.” He meets my eyes before resuming the chopping of vegetables.
“Safe from whom?” I inquire, foreboding coursing thickly through my veins.
“The Nephilim.”
I meet his eyes, striving to read the truth in them. My shoulders slump when I see and feel he’s being honest. “Why?”
Nox sighs. “That I don’t know, not entirely. Magdalena said she didn’t want her daughter to be their pawn. I assume it had something to do with the Asteri blood that ran on her family.”
I rear back.
Nox smiles ruefully. “Don’t look so surprised, where do you think Magdalena got her power from?”
I blink. “I thought,
uh, from nature?”
“Yes, but it’s impossible for a human to siphon that much power from the energy core of the planet without Asteri or Fae ascendance,” Nox explains.
“Right,” I say, mulling it over. “So grandma wanted to keep mom safe from the Nephilim and you don’t know why exactly.”
Nox begins to saute vegetables, filling the kitchen with savory aromas. “Indeed. Magdalena was wary of me, as she should have, but she was also desperate to block any possibility of being found by the Nephilim, so she asked me to hide her power. And your mother’s.”
My throat tightens when I think of my mother, I never really knew her. Vague memories of a stunning woman with long wavy blonde hair and a kind smile flash in my mind’s eye.
My stomach roars again as Nox pours whisked eggs on the vegetables. “How did you hide them?” I ask.
“A necklace made of magicked sapphire. It kept their auras sheltered from prying Nephilim eyes, but left their power intact.”
“Like the one I’m wearing,” I mutter.
“The one you’re wearing is much more powerful, but yes.” He fetches bread and butter as the omelette cooks. “Which reminds me, after such an outburst of power, I need to renew the spell.”
I bite my lip, thinking it over as I walk towards the coffee machine and pour two cups, adding copious amounts of cream to mine.
“You hadn’t seen grandma since then?” I venture once I’m sitting again, leaving Nox’s black coffee on the counter near him.
He shakes his head. “As I’ve said, Magdalena didn’t want to get too involved with me.”
I frown. “Then why did she ask you to protect me?”
He stalls, fetching a plate from the cabinet with telekinesis, the plate coursing through the air towards his hand. I watch, impressed. I’ve tried using telekinesis a few times but the results vary from pathetic to destructive. “She didn’t request that in so many words. But she did ask me to keep her bloodline safe, and I intend to do so.”
I smile, ignoring the bittersweet pang that rises inside my chest. “Well, then,” I say, “I’m glad you take things so literally.”
A flicker of a reluctant smile tugs at his lips. “And I’m glad you’re a terrible cook and apparently can’t distinguish Medieval Latin from English.”
Demon Warden: A Paranormal Urban Fantasy (The Cursed and the Fallen 1) Page 13