White Hot Kiss

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White Hot Kiss Page 7

by Jennifer L. Armentrout


  idea, but I doubted it would work. Part of me hoped he’d just disappear after warning me not to tag.

  I must’ve dozed off at some point during my plotting, because when I opened my eyes, the sky was dark, my nose was cold and someone was lying beside me.

  My heart jumped into my throat, then skipped a beat when I turned my head and soft hair tickled my cheek. “Zayne?”

  One eye opened. “What a strange place to nap when you have this great thing called a bed.”

  “What are you doing here?” I asked.

  “You didn’t come down for dinner.” He lifted his hand and removed a strand of my hair that had drifted across his face. “After a while, I decided to check on you. You weren’t in your room, and when I asked Morris if he’d seen you, he pointed toward the woods.”

  I scrubbed my eyes, clearing away the remnants of my impromptu nap. “What time is it?”

  “Almost nine-thirty.” He paused. “I was worried about you.”

  My brows furrowed. “Why?”

  Zayne tilted his head toward mine. “Why did you leave class today?”

  I stared at him a moment, then I remembered the strange look on his face when he’d seen the glass of OJ. “I wasn’t about to suck out a soul, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

  He frowned. “Whenever you’re craving something sweet—”

  “I know.” I turned my gaze to the sky. The stars peeked out from behind the thick branches. “Nothing happened at school today, I swear.”

  He was quiet for a moment. “Okay. That wasn’t the only reason I was worried.”

  I sighed. “I’m not going to murder Danika in her sleep.”

  Zayne let out a deep laugh. “I’d hope not. Dad would be pissed if you killed my mate.”

  Hearing that, I decided there may be a good chance I would kill her. “So now you’re down with the whole mating thing? Going to start making little gargoyle babies soon? That should be fun.”

  He laughed again, which pissed me off. “Layla-bug, what do you know about making babies?”

  I punched him in the stomach as I sat up. His low chuckle turned into a grunt. “I’m not a freaking kid, you ass. I know what sex is.”

  Zayne reached up and pinched my cheek. “You’re like this little—”

  I slammed him in the stomach again.

  He caught my arm, hauling me to his chest. “Stop being so violent,” he murmured lazily.

  “Then stop being such an ass.” I bit my lower lip.

  “I know you’re not a kid anymore.”

  An incredible heat swept through me, odd for such a chilly night. “Whatever. You treat me like I’m ten.”

  A moment passed and his hand tightened around my arm. “How am I supposed to treat you?”

  I wished I had something sexy and flirty to say. Instead I mumbled, “I don’t know.”

  A corner of his mouth turned up. “Danika’s not my mate, by the way. I was also joking about that.”

  I tried to look totally unaffected. “It’s what your father wants.”

  He looked away, sighing. “Anyway, what were we talking about? Oh, yeah. I was worried about where you were because Elijah’s here.”

  I stiffened, forgetting about Danika. “What?”

  He closed his eyes. “Yeah, he was one of the group that came in last night. I thought they’d be leaving today, but they’re hanging around awhile.”

  Elijah Faustin belonged to the clan that monitored demon activity along most of the southern coast. He and his son acted like I was the antichrist. “Is Petr with him?”

  “Yeah.”

  My head drooped. Petr was the worst kind of boy. “Why are they here?”

  “He’s being relocated to the Northeast along with his son and four others.”

  “So he’s going to stay here until Dez gets back?”

  Zayne met my stare, his expression suddenly hard. “Petr will not go anywhere near you. I promise you that.”

  My stomach knotted up. Pulling free, I rolled onto my back. I drew in a shallow breath. “I thought Abbot told them they weren’t welcome back here.”

  “He did, Layla. Father isn’t happy about them being here, but he can’t turn them away.” Zayne moved onto his side, facing me. “Do you remember when we used to pretend this was an observation deck for NASA?”

  “I remember you dangling me off the edge a couple of times.”

  Zayne nudged me. “You loved it. You were always jealous that I could fly and you couldn’t.”

  I cracked a smile. “Who wouldn’t be jealous of that?”

  He grinned as he looked over his shoulder. “God, it’s been years since we’ve been up here.”

  “I know.” I stretched out my legs, wriggling my toes inside the sneakers. “I kind of miss it.”

  “Same here.” Zayne tugged on the sleeve of my sweater. “We still on for Saturday?”

  For years, we’d been visiting a different coffee shop every Saturday morning. He’d keep himself awake to do so, prolonging the moment when he’d return to his room and assume his real form, the one that allowed him to sleep. The only true rest a gargoyle gained was when they turned to stone. “Of course.”

  “Oh. I almost forgot.” He sat up, reaching into the pocket of his jeans. He held a slender rectangular object in his hand. “I did pick this up for you today.”

  I grabbed the cell out of his hands, squealing. “It’s a touch screen! Oh, my God, I promise I won’t break it or lose it. Thank you!”

  Zayne rolled to his feet. “I went ahead and charged it. All you have to do is program your numbers in there.” He grinned down at me. “I took the liberty of programming my number as your first contact.”

  I stood and hugged him. “Thank you. You are the awesome sauce.”

  He laughed, easing his arms around me. “Ah, I have to buy your love. I see.”

  “No! Not at all. I’d—” I stopped myself before I said something I couldn’t take back, and lifted my gaze. Half of his face was shadowed, but there was a strange look in his eyes. “I mean, you’d still be cool even if you hadn’t bought me the phone.”

  Zayne tucked my hair back behind my ear, his hand lingering on my cheek. Bending at the waist, he pressed his forehead against mine. I felt him take a deep breath, and his hand flattened against the small of my back.

  “Make sure you keep the balcony doors in your bedroom locked,” he said finally, his voice deeper than normal. “And try not to roam around the house in the middle of the night. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  He didn’t move. A slow burn started to slither under my skin, different than my body reacting to his. I forced myself to take a shallow breath, to focus on Zayne, but my eyes drifted shut. I tried to stop it from happening, but my imagination took hold and ran wild. I pictured his soul—his very spirit—warming the cold, empty places inside me. It would feel better than a kiss, better than anything. I swayed, my body leaning toward his, drawn in by two very different wants.

  Zayne dropped his hands, backing off. “Are you okay?”

  A tide of hot mortification burned through me. Stepping back, I held the phone between us. “Yeah, I’m fine. We—we should head back.”

  He studied me a moment, then nodded. I watched him turn and duck back into the tree house. I held my breath, waiting until I heard him drop to the ground below.

  I couldn’t continue living like this.

  But what choice did I have? Go full-throttle demon? That would never be an option.

  “Layla?” he called out.

  “I’m coming.” I lifted my head, and as I started forward, something caught my attention. Frowning, I squinted at the tree branch directly above the observation deck. Something wasn’t right about it. The branch seemed thicker, shinier.

  Then I saw it.

  Curled around the branch was an abnormally long and thick snake. Its diamond-shaped head turned down, and from where I stood, I could see the unmistakable red gleam of the snake’s eyes.

&nb
sp; I jumped back, gasping.

  “What’s going on up there?” Zayne asked.

  I glanced down for maybe two seconds—that was all—but when I looked up, the snake was gone.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  By the time I followed Stacey into bio, I wanted to smack her. She wouldn’t stop talking about Roth. Like I needed any help wondering if he’d actually show up today. I’d stayed up all night thinking about that damn snake in the tree. Had it been there the whole time, watching me as I slept and listening to my conversation with Zayne?

  Creepy.

  All of it was made worse by the reminder of how Roth had pressed against me in the bathroom. Because when I thought of him, I thought of how that had felt. No one really got that close to me. Not even Zayne. I wanted to crawl inside my own head, surgically remove the memory and then douse my brain with Clorox.

  “He better be,” Stacey was saying as she threw herself into her seat. “I didn’t sneak out of the house dressed like this for no good reason.”

  “No doubt.” I eyed her short skirt and then her cleavage. “We wouldn’t want your boobs to go to waste.”

  She gave me a sly smile. “I want him to think about me all night.”

  I pulled out my textbook, dropping it on the desk. “No, you don’t.”

  “I’ll decide that for myself.” She shifted, tugging her skirt down. “Anyway, I can’t believe you don’t find him hot. There’s something wrong with you.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with me.” I looked at her, but her eyes were glued to the door. I sighed. “Stacey, he’s really not a good guy.”

  “Mmm. Even better.”

  “I’m being serious. He’s...he’s dangerous. So don’t get any perverted ideas in your head.”

  “Too late.” She paused, frowning. “Did he do something to you?”

  “It’s just a feeling I have.”

  “I have a lot of feelings when I think about him.” She leaned forward, planting her elbows on the table and cupping her chin in her hands. “Lots of feelings.”

  I rolled my eyes. “What about Sam? He’s totally in love with you. He’d be a better choice.”

  “What?” She scrunched her nose. “He is not.”

  “Seriously, he is.” I started doodling on the book, keeping my attention off the door. “He’s always staring at you.”

  Stacey laughed. “He didn’t even bat an eye when he saw my skirt—”

  “Or lack thereof.”

  “Exactly. Now, if I wore a binary code on my legs, then he’d notice me.”

  Mrs. Cleo shuffled in, ending our conversation. I almost keeled over, the relief was that powerful. I didn’t even care when Mrs. Cleo eyed me strangely. Roth was gone, I thought, drawing giant smiley faces all over a diagram. Maybe his stupid snake ate him.

  Stacey’s arm thudded off the desk. “I guess today is just going to suck.”

  “Sorry,” I chirped, twirling my pen between my fingers. “Wanna grab—”

  The door swung open just as Mrs. Cleo wheeled out the overhead projector. Roth strolled into class, bio book in hand and a cocky smile plastered across his face. The pen slipped out of my grip, flinging forward and smacking the head of a girl sitting two seats in front of me. She whirled around, throwing up her hands as she shot me a dirty look.

  Stacey popped up in her seat, emitting a low squeal.

  Winking at Mrs. Cleo, he edged past her. She just shook her head and fiddled with her notes. All eyes were on Roth as he sauntered down the center aisle. Jaws dropped and girls turned in their seats. Some of the guys did, too.

  “Hey there,” he murmured to Stacey.

  “Hi.” Her elbows slid across the desk.

  Then he turned those golden eyes on me. “Good morning.”

  “My day is made,” Stacey whispered, grinning at Roth as he dropped his book and sat.

  “Good for you,” I snapped, digging another pen out of my bag.

  Mrs. Cleo flipped off the lights. “I haven’t graded the tests yet, since some of you will be making up those tests on Friday. Expect your grades and any extra-credit assignments to be handed out on Monday.”

  Several students groaned while I pictured stabbing my pen into the back of Roth’s head.

  What had I planned last night? Not a damn thing, because I fell asleep while plotting on the observation deck.

  About ten minutes into Mrs. Cleo’s dry lecture about cell respiration, Stacey stopped bouncing in her seat. I still hadn’t taken my eyes off Roth. He didn’t even bother pretending to take notes. At least I held a pen in my hand.

  He tipped his chair back until it rested against our table, planting his elbows on my textbook to support his precarious position. Once again, I smelled something sweet, like sugary wine or dark chocolate.

  I considered moving his arms, but that would require me to touch him. I could poke him in the arm with my pen—hard. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing really nice arms. Smooth skin stretched over well-defined biceps. And there was Bambi, curling around his arm. I leaned forward, somewhat fascinated by the detail. Each ripple in the snake’s skin had been shaded so that it actually looked three dimensional. The underbelly was gray and soft-looking, but I doubted Roth’s skin would be very soft. It looked as hard as Warden skin.

  The tattoo looked so real.

  Because it is real, you idiot.

  Just then, the tail twitched and slid over his elbow.

  Gasping, I jerked back in my seat. Stacey shot me a weird look.

  Roth turned his head. “What are you doing back there?”

  My eyes narrowed on him.

  “Are you staring at me?”

  “No!” I whispered, lying through my teeth.

  He eased the chair down, sparing Mrs. Cleo a brief glance before turning sideways in his seat. “I think you are.”

  Stacey leaned over, grinning. “She was.”

  I shot her a hateful look. “I was not.”

  Roth eyed Stacey with renewed interest. “She was? And what was she staring at?”

  “I really don’t know,” Stacey whispered back. “I was too busy staring at your face to notice.”

  A pleased grin appeared. “Stacey, right?”

  She leaned into me. “That’s me.”

  I pushed her back to her side, rolling my eyes. “Turn around,” I ordered.

  His eyes met mine. “I will when you tell me what you were staring at.”

  “Not at you.” I glanced at the front of the room. Mrs. Cleo flipped over her notes. “Turn around before you get us in trouble.”

  Roth dipped his head. “Oh, you’d love the kind of trouble I’d get you in.”

  Stacey sighed—or moaned. “I bet we would.”

  I clenched the pen. “No. We. Would. Not.”

 

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