White Hot Kiss

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White Hot Kiss Page 10

by Jennifer L. Armentrout


  back, getting hung up on my book bag. The skeleton arm hit the zombie’s head and then went through it. Mottled blood and flesh flew through the air, plopping off the floor...and onto my jeans.

  Skin, muscle and bone sank in on itself. The thing sort of imploded, collapsing until nothing was left but a puddle of muck on the floor and the filthy clothing it had worn.

  Roth threw the arm down, anger tightening his expression. “That was slightly irritating.” He turned around, looking at me. His amber eyes took on a sheen of amusement. “Oh, you’ve made a mess of yourself.”

  I stared at my goo-covered pants and hands before fixing Roth with a glare. “I hate you.”

  “Hate is such a strong word.” He swaggered to my side, bending down. “Let me help you.”

  I kicked out, catching him in the shin. “Don’t touch me.”

  He hobbled back, cursing and shaking out his pants leg. “You got brains on my new jeans. Thanks.”

  Muttering under my breath, I pushed to my feet and grabbed my bag. Luckily, there wasn’t any yuck on that, but me? I didn’t even want to look at myself, I was that gross. “Well, this was really fun.”

  “Hey! Don’t be upset. The zombie problem has been taken care of.”

  I pointed at myself with both hands. At the moment, I didn’t give a crap about why he was following me. “Look at me. I have zombie spew all over me, thanks to you. And I have classes the rest of the day.”

  A slow smile spread across his face. “I can take you back to my place. I have a shower you can use. Then maybe we can get a drink and check out my Porsche.”

  My palms itched to make friends with the sides of his face. “You’re disgusting.”

  He chuckled, turning back to the corpse. “What in the Hell were you doing here?” he said, mostly to himself. “And what did...?” He looked over his shoulder, gaze falling to my chest. His eyes narrowed. “Oh, great.”

  “Hey! God, you are such a dog!”

  Roth arched a brow. “I’ve been called worse. Go get cleaned up. I’ll take care of this.”

  Drawing in a deep breath, I spun around. I made it to the door before he stopped me. He said something like “lamb” under his breath. Shaking my head, I left him in the boiler room, smelling of rotten zombie.

  * * *

  I spent the rest of the day in my gym clothes with soaking wet hair.

  I hated Roth.

  Morris looked surprised when I slid into the passenger seat. Typically I tagged every day after school, but today I wasn’t feeling it. Unlike yesterday, silence greeted me as I walked into the house and dropped my bag inside the door.

  I headed through the foyer, pulling my damp hair into a messy bun. I needed to tell Abbot about the zombie at school. Roth issue aside, the zombie was something serious. There was a good chance that Abbot was still asleep, though.

  The last time I’d woken him up, I’d been eight and had only Mr. Snotty for company. I wanted someone to play with me, so I knocked on Abbot’s stone shell while he slept.

  That hadn’t gone over well.

  This time was different. He’d have to understand, but I could at least ease his temper with a cup of coffee. It took me a couple of minutes to find the damn coffee grounds and filter, then another five minutes of trying to figure out if I should use the coffee or the cappuccino setting. The thing required a degree in engineering to figure out. I tugged on the stainless-steel lever, frowning. What the Hell did this do?

  “It’s really not that complicated.”

  Every muscle in my body locked and yet I managed to drop the little metal measuring spoon. It clattered on the tile floor. I bent down and grabbed the spoon, trying to calm the sudden bundle of nerves in my stomach. My legs felt weak as I straightened.

  Petr stood in the doorway. His thick arms crossed a barrel-sized chest. “I see you haven’t gained any grace since the last time I saw you.”

  Coming from anyone else, that dig might have stung. I put the spoon on the counter. Coffee be damned. I stopped a few feet in front of him. “Excuse me.”

  He didn’t move. “And you’re just as rude and bitchy.”

  My chin shot up. Petr was only a year or two older than me, but the dark stubble across his chin and jaw made him look older. “Can you please move out of the way?”

  Petr stepped aside, leaving about a foot to go through. “Happy?”

  I was anything but happy with the idea of my body being in the same zip code as his. I squeezed past him, wincing as my hip rubbed against his leg.

  “Thought you were making coffee?” He fell in step behind me. “I could help you.”

  Ignoring him, I picked up my pace. I wouldn’t fall for his cajoling tone again. Not in this lifetime or the next.

  Petr stepped around me, blocking my way upstairs—to safety. He sighed. “So who were you making coffee for?”

  A flicker of fear curled around my heart. “Can you move? I need to go upstairs.”

  “You can’t talk to me for five minutes?”

  Out of habit, I felt for the circular object under my shirt, clasping my hand over it. I tried to move past him. He shadowed my movements. “Petr, please let me by.”

  Faint sunlight from the nearby window reflected off the small stud pierced into his hawkish nose. “I can remember a time when you liked talking to me. When you looked forward to when my clan would visit.”

  A faint flush crept over my face as my grip tightened on my shirt. The ring bit through the clothing, pressing against my palm. I used to have a crush on the jerkwad. “That was before I realized what a creep you are.”

  The line of his jaw hardened. “I didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “You didn’t do anything wrong? I told you to stop and you wouldn’t—”

  “You were being a tease.” His voice dropped low. “And since when do demons really get a say in anything?”

  I sucked in air. “I’m a Warden.”

  He rolled his eyes, laughing. “Oh, I’m sorry. You’re only half-demon. Like that makes a difference. Do you know what we usually do to the spawn of demons and humans?”

  “Love them and hug them?” I tried to slide past, but he slapped his palm against the wall in front of me.

  “We kill them, Layla. Like Abbot was supposed to do with you, but you’re just so damn special.”

  I bit down on my lip. He was too close. If I breathed too deeply, I could taste his soul. “I need to go see Zayne.”

  “Zayne is still resting.” He paused. “He stayed up pretty late this morning talking to Danika.”

  Irrational jealousy flooded my system, which was so stupid considering the current situation. “Then I’m going to see—”

  “Jasmine and the twins?” he asked. “Yeah, they’re taking a nap. No one is up, Layla. It’s just you and me.”

  I swallowed. “Morris is here. Geoff is up, too.”

  Petr laughed. “You’re so clueless.”

  A slow burn began under my skin. I held my breath. If there was anyone in this world I wanted to suck a soul out of, it was Petr. Out of everyone, he’d deserve it the most.

  His heavy hand landed on my shoulder, forcing me around. Petr smiled. “You’re in so much trouble, you little half-demon bitch.”

  Anger flooded me and I tried to shake off his hand. Dropping the ring, I prepared to break the no-fighting-a-Warden rule. “Are you threatening me?”

  “No. Not at all.” He moved his hand to my throat, circling his fingers much tighter than Roth had. Ironic that a demon seemed to have gentler hands than a Warden. “You want to fight me, don’t you? Do it. It’ll make everything easier for us.”

  My stomach tumbled over itself. Petr knew I’d get in trouble, and there was more than a hint of cruelty in his pale eyes. Worse yet, I knew that he saw nothing wrong with what he was doing. His actions would never taint his soul, because it was pure, no matter what he did. It was like a free pass to him. Petr pressed forward, his breath too warm against my cheek. “You’re going to wish Ab
bot had snuffed out your miserable little life when you were a baby.”

  Screw the rules.

  I brought my knee up, hitting him where it hurt. Petr let out a low growl and let go, cupping himself. Spinning around, I flew up the stairs without looking back. In the hallway, I came face-to-face with Petr’s father. I tried not to react, but the jagged scar that tore through his upper and lower lips was hard not to notice. Abbot had once told me a King demon had given Elijah that scar.

  Elijah eyed me with a look of revulsion, but said nothing as I raced around him and into my bedroom, locking the door behind me. Not that it would stop any of them if they decided to come through that door.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Abbot sat behind the desk, his leg propped over his knee. “You didn’t eat very much at dinner. Are you still feeling unwell?”

  I threw myself in the chair. I’d managed only a bite or two during the tense dinner. Petr eyeballed me the entire time. “I don’t want them here.”

  Abbot rubbed his fingers across his bearded chin. His sandy hair was pulled back as usual. “Layla, I understand that you’re uncomfortable. Elijah has assured me that you will have no problems with Petr.”

  “Really? That’s funny, because Petr cornered me earlier.”

  His fingers stilled, the pale eyes sharpening. “Did he do anything?”

  “It wasn’t like...the last time.” I shifted uncomfortably, feeling my face burn.

  He let out a long, low breath. “Can you just stay away from him for the next week or so?”

  I was floored. “I am staying away from him. He won’t stay away from me! If he comes near me again, I swear to God I’ll take his—”

  Abbot slammed his hand down on the desk, causing me to jump in the chair. “You will do no such thing, Layla!”

  My heart lurched. “I wasn’t being serious. I’m...I’m sorry.”

  “That is nothing to joke about.” He shook his head, speaking as if I was an ill-behaved child. “I’m very disappointed that you’d even consider saying something like that. If any of our visitors overheard you—including Petr’s father—the damage would be irreversible.”

  A messy, icky lump formed in my chest. I hated disappointing Abbot. I owed him so much—a home, safety, a life. I cast my eyes down, twisting the ring between my fingers. “I’m sorry—really I am.”

  Abbot sighed, and I heard him lean back in his seat. I peeked up, not wanting to add to his long list of worries. He ran his fingers over his brow, eyes closed. “What did you want to talk to me about, Layla?”

  Suddenly the whole thing with the zombie didn’t seem very important. Neither did Roth’s presence. I just wanted to go hide in my bedroom.

  “Layla?” he questioned, pulling a fat cigar out of a wooden box on his desk. He never smoked them, but liked to fiddle with them anyway.

  “It’s nothing,” I said finally. “Just something that happened today at school.”

  His pale brows rose an inch. “You wanted to talk to me about school? I know Zayne has been occupied with Danika’s arrival and training, but I have a lot going on right now. Perhaps Jasmine would be interested in chatting with you?”

  My face felt like I could fry eggs on it. “I don’t want to talk about boys or my grades.”

  He rolled the cigar between his fingers. “How are your grades? I assume your teacher is allowing you to make up your test tomorrow?”

  I dropped the ring, clutching the arms of my chair in frustration. “My grades are fine. And I have the make—”

  “What are you two doing in here?”

  I twisted around. Zayne stood in the doorway, his hair falling around his face like sheets of sand. “I’m trying to tell Abbot what happened today at school.”

  His lazy look turned to surprise. He glanced at his father as a slow grin twisted his lips. “How’s that going?”

  Abbot sighed heavily, placing the cigar back in the box. “Layla, I have to leave shortly to meet with the police commissioner and the mayor.”

  “There was a zombie at my school today,” I blurted out.

  “Huh?” Zayne stopped behind my chair, flicking the back of my ear. I swatted his hand away. “What are you talking about?” he asked.

  I met Abbot’s suddenly alert gaze. “He was in the boiler room and—”

  “How did you know he was there?” Abbot demanded, uncrossing his legs as he leaned forward.

  I couldn’t tell them about Roth. No way was I opening that door. “I...I smelled him.”

  Zayne dropped in the seat beside me. “Did anyone see him?”

  I cringed. “Trust me, if they did, it would have been on the evening news. He was that bad off.”

  “Is he still there?” Abbot stood, rolling down the sleeves of his shirt.

  “Uh...yes, but I don’t think he’s going to be a problem. He’s nothing but a pile of clothes and goo.”

  “Wait a minute,” Zayne said, frowning as he watched me. “You smelled a zombie, and knowing how dangerous they can be, you decided to go down to a boiler room and check it out?”

  I looked at him. Where was he going with this? “Well, yeah, I did.”

  “And you engaged the zombie? Killing it?”

  Well... “Yes.”

  He shot his father a meaningful look. “Father.”

  “What?” My eyes bounced between the two.

  Abbot walked around the desk, letting out another long sigh. “What are the rules, Layla?”

  Unease cramped my stomach muscles. “I don’t mess with the dangerous stuff, but—”

  “Zayne told me you followed a Poser into the alley the other night,” Abbot interrupted, in total father mode. Disappointed-father mode. “And it turned out to be a Seeker.”

  “I...” I closed my mouth, glancing at Zayne. He avoided my eyes, watching his father. “It’s not a big deal.”

  “Following a Poser or any demon into an alley is a big deal, Layla.” Abbot folded his arms, pinning me with a displeased stare. “You know better. No one can see your tags besides us. There is no reason you should be following one into an isolated area. And instead of seeking out the zombie today, you should have called Morris and he would have woken us up.”

  Jeez. I sank down in my seat. “But—”

  “There are no buts, Layla. What would have happened if the zombie was seen by anyone? We are charged with keeping the truth secret. Mankind must have faith that Heaven and Hell exist without proof.”

  “Maybe we should cut back on her time tagging,” Zayne suggested. “We don’t need her doing it. Honestly, it’s all very lazy of us to rely on her tagging instead of actively searching them out.”

  I stared at him, seeing my freedom shrivel up in front of me instead of his godly looks. “No one found out about the zombie today!”

  “That’s not the point,” snapped Abbot. “You know better, Layla. You risked serious consequences by not telling us, not to mention risking your own safety.”

  His disappointment rang through loud and clear. I shifted uneasily in my seat, feeling about a foot tall.

  “We should check out the school tonight,” said Zayne. “Have the commissioner contact the superintendent—say it’s something routine so there’s no suspicion.”

  “Good call.” He gave his son a proud smile.

  I bristled. “So I’m not allowed to tag anymore?”

  “That’s something I need to think about,” replied Abbot.

  That didn’t sound good to me. I hated the idea of not being able to tag. It was the one thing that redeemed the demonic blood in me, or at least made me feel better. Taking that away was like a smack in the face. It also got me out of the house, and with Petr

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