White Hot Kiss

by Jennifer L. Armentrout

  Bambi was wrapped around his biceps, and there was an odd, circular tat over his right pec. Yet another tattoo was carved over his stomach. It appeared to be a dragon, with its head reared back and jaws open. Wings were tucked against its scaly back and the tail disappeared below the waistband of his pants.

  I needed to look away, but my eyes were glued to where that tail must’ve been.

  Roth pulled a clean shirt on, and I let out a breath. He moved to a small kitchen area and opened up a cabinet. He returned to my side, unscrewing a bottle. “You should drink some of this. It will help.”

  I accepted it, taking a long swallow. The liquor burned my lips and the inside of my mouth as he disappeared into what I assumed was a bathroom, but it warmed my insides wonderfully. I heard the water turn on a few moments later. When he reappeared, I stared at the towel in his hand. “What are you doing?”

  “Cleaning up your face.” Roth crouched, his eyes roaming over me. “Does it hurt to talk?”

  It hurt not to talk. “A little.” I took another drink, gasping as the liquid dribbled over my torn skin. Roth took the bottle from me, setting it out of my reach. I sighed.

  “How do you normally heal?” he asked.

  “Faster than a human, but not like the Wardens or...like you,” I answered. Hopefully most of the bruises would be gone by midweek. Not that my injuries were even a problem. I had bigger things to worry about.

  He dabbed the towel under my lip with surprising gentleness. “I want to know why he did this, Layla. I need to know.”

  Looking away, I squeezed my eyes shut. Raw pain tore through my chest like a real wound. I knew—God, I knew—that it wasn’t just Petr who wanted me dead. The whole thing seemed like a big setup—the Alphas, the clansmen being nowhere nearby, and even Zayne not answering his phone. Betrayal cut so deep, it splintered my very core.

  Gentle fingers pressed under my chin, turning my head to the side. “Talk to me, Layla.”

  I opened my eyes and blinked back tears. “He wanted...he wanted to kill me. He said the world would be better off without me.”

  A muscle spasmed along Roth’s jaw and his eyes flared a tawny color, but his touch remained so soft that it didn’t seem like it was him holding my chin. “Did he say why?”

  “He said I should’ve been killed when the Wardens first found me. Petr’s always hated me, but this...this was more.” I told Roth everything that had happened, stopping every few moments to rest my aching jaw. “I didn’t have a choice.”

  “A choice about what?” he asked. “You didn’t kill him. I did. And I’d like to do it again.”

  I shook my head and it hurt. “I took his soul, Roth. I don’t understand what happened. He didn’t waste away like a human would. He turned and his eyes were red.”

  He stilled, looking me straight in the eye. “You took his soul?”

  Tears pricked my eyes.

  “Layla,” he said gently. “Did you take his soul completely?”

  “I think so.” My voice cracked. “Yes. Yes, I did.”

  The hue of his eyes darkened. “You did what you had to do. There is no guilt in what happened. Do you understand me? He was...hurting you. The bastard deserved to die.”

  I said nothing to that, and Roth smoothed the cloth over my brow. He was quiet and meticulous as he worked. I watched the muscle in his jaw tick away, his pupils slowly but surely going back to normal by the time he left and returned with a fresh towel.

  “How bad is it?” I asked when I couldn’t take the silence any longer.

  Roth smiled for the first time since he’d found me. “It’s not as bad as it could be. Your lip is split, and there’s going to be one Hell of a bruise on your jaw—” he skimmed his fingers over my brow “—and here. You’re more durable than you look.”

  I should’ve felt relief, but I couldn’t. All I could feel were Petr’s hands on me and the way he’d looked after I took his soul. Roth gently started to part the edge of the blanket and my grip tightened. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m making sure you’re okay.”

  “No.” I leaned away from him, feeling the walls start to close in around me. “I’m fine.”

  “I’m not going to hurt you.” Roth placed his hand on my shoulder carefully, but I still winced at the ache traveling down my arm. His eyes hardened. “You’re letting me check you over. I’m not going to hurt you, okay? I promise.”

  I stared at him for what seemed like eternity, then I nodded and let go of the blanket. Roth didn’t wait for me to change my mind. He slipped the blanket off my shoulders and when I heard his sharp inhalation, I wanted to grab it again. I felt him move the cloth under my neck, dip between the shredded halves of my camisole.

  “He scratched you,” Roth explained after a few moments. “Was he in his true form when he did this?”

  “No.” I opened my eyes. “He started to shift when I got ahold of his soul and then he turned completely afterward.”

  Before Roth could respond, I felt something soft and warm brush against my ankle. I looked down in surprise. A tiny white kitten stared up at me, eyes as blue as the sky. “Kitten?”

  “Yes. It’s a kitten.”

  Stunned that Roth would have something so cute, I ignored the wave of dizziness and bent around him, reaching for the tiny ball of fur. Its soft purr was like a miniature engine. Another one popped out from underneath the bed. Black, fluffy and the same size as the other kitten, it shimmied out and pounced on the back of the white one. They rolled, hissing and swatting at one another. I glanced at Roth. “Two?”

  He shook his head, pointing back to the head of the bed. “Three.”

  A third peeked around the corner of a pillow, a mixture of black and white. It trotted up to me, sweeping at my fingers with surprisingly sharp claws. “I...can’t believe you have kittens.” I wiggled my fingers and the little guy strained to reach them. “What’re their names?”

  Roth snorted. “That one is Fury. The white one is Nitro and the black one is named Thor.”

  “What? You called these cuties something like that, but named a giant snake Bambi?”

  He bent forward, placing a kiss on my shoulder. It was so fast I wasn’t sure he’d actually done it. “There’s sweetness in evil,” he said. “And remember, looks can be deceiving.”

  I lowered my fingers, running them over the kitten’s little head.

  “I wouldn’t do that if I—”

  Fury sank its claws and teeth into my hand. I yelped, jerking my hand back. It remained latched on, a squirming ball of vamp kitty.

  Roth grabbed the fluff of fur, gently removing it from my hand. “Bad kitty,” he said, dropping it next to its siblings.

  I stared at the demonic furball as it licked its bloody claws, and then shifted my gaze to Roth. “I don’t understand.”

  “Let’s just say that they weren’t always this cute and cuddly-looking. They can get pretty big when provoked, but even in this form, Hellhounds are afraid of them,” Roth said.

  The white one jumped on the bed, stretched out little legs and yawned. It eyed me as if it wasn’t sure what I was doing there.

  Roth caught my hand, bringing the finger the kitten had injured to his lips. He pressed a kiss to the blemished skin, surprising me once more. “You’re going to be fine.”

  I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes again. “What...what am I going to do? I took a soul—a pure soul.”

  Roth sat beside me. “It will be okay.”

  A strangled laugh escaped me. “You don’t understand. I’m not allowed...to take souls. Not in any situation.”

  “It’s not something to worry about right now,” he said firmly. “I’ll take care of it.”

  I wanted to believe him so badly, but I couldn’t see how he could take care of anything. What had been done couldn’t be reversed.

  Roth reached out, cupping the side of my jaw that didn’t feel like it was on fire. “This will all work out. It will.” There was a pause. “Look. Y
ou have a little visitor.”

  I glanced down. The white kitten rubbed against my side, staring up at me with slanted blue eyes. I itched to pick it up and hold it close, but I valued my fingers. It went back to rubbing my hip, as if it dared me to pet it.

  Emotion clogged my throat as I realized I hadn’t thanked him properly. “Why are you helping me? I mean, thank you—I can never thank you enough for coming when you did. I just...” I just didn’t understand how a demon could be the one to save me from a Warden.

  He shrugged, dropping his hand. “I’m a lot of things, Layla. But even I have my limits.”

  Silence fell between us, and Roth went back to cleaning up the rest of my wounds. He was good at this—taking care of someone. I doubted it was something he learned in Hell.

  When he finished, he gave me a pair of his sweats and a shirt to wear. On the walk to his bathroom, I ached and felt awkward. In his bright bathroom, I stared at my reflection. My eyes seemed larger than normal, a brighter gray that bordered on looking wild. The right side of my jaw was already turning a deep purple. It matched the bruise forming just below my hairline. The skin had split there, but it didn’t look like I needed stitches. My lip looked like a Botox injection gone horribly wrong.

  I shook off my clothes, wincing not just from the pain but from the sight of the blue and light violet splotches covering my shoulders and chest. Petr’s claw marks started under my throat, three deep slashes about four inches long. I quickly changed, unable to look at myself any longer.

  Roth was at the window when I returned. He turned around and tried for a wolfish grin. “I always knew you’d look great in my pants.”

  I hadn’t thought I’d laugh again, but I did then. It sounded weak. “That’s real original.”

  He pushed off the wall and gestured at the closed door I’d noticed before. “I want to show you something. You think you’re up for it?”

  Intrigued despite myself, I nodded. He opened the door and motioned me forward. I followed him up the narrow staircase. He stopped at a door and glanced over his shoulder. “Promise me you won’t walk off the ledge.”

  I would’ve rolled my eyes if it wouldn’t have hurt. “I promise.”

  He didn’t quite look like he believed me, but he opened the door. Cool air pulled me forward. I limped past him.

  “Don’t walk off the rooftop. Please.” He followed behind me. “I wouldn’t want to scrape your remains off the pavement below.”

  Soft, billowy white tents rolled in the perfumed breeze. Under them were several lounge chairs and small tables, but it was the neatly manicured flower garden that caught and held my attention. Vases of every size and shape lined the rooftop. I didn’t know most of the flowers, but I did see roses and lilies everywhere.

  “Is this yours?” I asked.

  “All of this is mine.”

  I stopped by a large pot, running my fingers over the heavy petals. In the dark, I couldn’t tell if the flower was purple or red. But it smelled sweet and tangy. “You garden?”

  “I get bored.” His breath danced off my cheek. “I find that it’s a viable way of passing time.”

  I hadn’t heard him come up directly behind me. I turned around halfway, inclining my head. “A demon who gardens?”

  One corner of his lips quirked. “I’ve seen crazier things.”

  “Is that so?”

  Roth tilted his head to the side. “You’d be surprised. I know a few of my kind who do taxes whenever they’re topside, some who teach gym. We demons do love a good game of dodgeball.”

  I made a feeble attempt at a laugh. “I knew...there was something up with my gym teacher.”

  “If I didn’t know better, I’d think Mrs. Cleo was a Hellhound in disguise.”

  I drifted away from him, focusing on the dazzling display of lights from the hundreds of buildings surrounding us. Off in the distance, I could see the tower of the Nancy Hanks Center. I shivered as I turned back to Roth.

  He was so close, but I hadn’t heard him move. “You should sit.”

  He didn’t give me much of an option, guiding me over to one of the lounges. I ended up on my back within seconds, embraced by the thick pillows. The high was gone. The adrenaline had seeped away, and all that was left behind were bone-deep aches and too many questions.

  Roth sat beside me, his hip pressing against my leg. “How are you feeling?”

  What a broad question. “Everything is...so screwed up.”

  “It is.”

  Shifting my gaze to him, I almost laughed again. His brutal honesty was something else. Under the white canopy, the moonlight reflected off his striking face. Our gazes locked. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do from here.”

  His stare was unwavering. “Have you ever known what you’re supposed to do?”

  Good question. I broke eye contact. “You’re a strange demon.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  I smiled a little. “You’re actually nothing like any demon I know.”

  “Is that so?” He ran the tips of his fingers up my arm, over the slant of my collarbone, stopping short of where the skin was torn. “I find that hard to image. We demons are all alike. We covet pretty things, corrupt what is pure and whole, take what we can never have. You should have a whole fan club made up of demons.”

  His touch was lulling, comforting. I yawned. “You’d be a member of my demon-horde fan club?”

  Roth laughed softly. “Oh, I think I’d be the president.” He eased down beside me, onto his side. “Would you like that?”

  I knew what he was doing. Distracting me. It was working. “Can I be serious for a moment?”

  His hand skipped to my other shoulder. “You can be whatever you like.”

  “You really aren’t all that bad...for a demon, you know.”

  “I wouldn’t go that far.” He stretched out beside me, propping himself up on his elbow. “They don’t come any badder than me.”

  “Whatever,” I murmured. Several moments passed. “I—”

  “I know. I do. There probably isn’t a question I don’t have an answer for. And we do need to talk. What you know now is nothing but a drop in the messed-up bucket. And what you’re going to learn is going to turn your world upside down.” He paused, and my heart skipped a beat. “But we don’t need to do this right now. You need to sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

  As I watched him through thinly slitted eyes, I realized I didn’t know jack. I had no idea if I was ever going to be able to go home. If I’d ever really had a home. I didn’t know how far the betrayal ran, if it included others who’d watched me grow up. I didn’t even know what tomorrow was going to bring. But I did know that as unlikely as it was, I was safe right now, and I trusted Roth—a demon.

  So I nodded and closed my eyes. Roth started humming “Paradise City” again, and I found it oddly comforting. In the moments before I drifted off to sleep, I swore I felt his hand brush my cheek.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  When I awoke, it was near dawn and the sky beyond the softly rolling canopies still clung to night. The events of the previous day rolled through my mind with startling clarity. My heart rate picked up, but I didn’t move. My body wasn’t the problem—the aches had dulled, and even the throbbing in my face was nothing compared to a few hours ago. It was just that I knew the Wardens would’ve realized I was missing by now. They would’ve started looking for me and for Petr. Zayne...I couldn’t even think of him right now.

  Nothing would ever be the same.

  The heat of the lean, hard body pressed against mine was a stark reminder of that fact. Roth’s chest rose and fell steadily against my side. Our legs were tangled together. His arm was thrown over my waist. The closeness, as crazy as it was, pushed away everything else that was important. I’d never woken up in the arms of a boy before. When Zayne and I were kids, we’d bunk together, but this...this was so different. Languid warmth started in my toes and traveled up my body at an alarming spe
ed, flaring tightly at each point our bodies met.

  I thought of the kiss we’d shared—my first kiss. I was as breathless as I’d be practicing evasive techniques. Considering everything that was happening and had happened already, it seemed like the last thing I should be thinking about.

  But it was as automatic as breathing. My lips tingled from the memory. I doubted Roth even thought twice about it, but I had quite a few times since Friday.

  I turned my head ever so slightly and sucked in a soft breath.

  Roth was on his side, like he’d been before I’d fallen asleep. His face was relaxed, lips parted. I wanted to touch the line of his jaw, the curve of his brow, and I had no idea why. But my fingers tingled with the desire to do so. At rest like this, the harsh edge to his beauty was absent. In that moment, he was what I believed angels might look like.