White Hot Kiss

by Jennifer L. Armentrout

  But then he pulled back, his hands trailing to my shoulders. “Where have you been? What happened?”

  Having no idea where to start, I kept my chin down.

  “Layla,” he said, placing his hands on either side of my face. I winced when his fingers pressed against my temple, but I didn’t pull away. Zayne lifted my head and his eyes widened in shock. A rush of wild emotion cut across his face. Anger was the most apparent, turning his eyes an electric blue. Tension formed around his mouth. A muscle popped as his jaw worked. He slid his hands off my face, keeping my hair back. “Petr did this?”

  My chest tightened with fear and dismay. “How...how did you know?”

  His chest rose harshly. “He hasn’t been seen since last night. Not since Morris said he saw him heading into the woods. I found your bag in the tree house and your phone was lying on the ground. There was...there was blood on it—your blood. We’ve been tearing this city apart looking for you. God, I thought the worst. I thought...” He swallowed thickly. “Jesus Christ, Layla...”

  I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. The look in Zayne’s eyes was frightening. “Are you okay?” he asked, and then he cursed. “That’s a stupid question. Obviously, you’re not okay. How badly are you hurt? Do you need to go to the hospital? Have you been out all night? Should I—”

  “I’m okay.” My voice cracked as I wrapped my fingers around his wrists. I’d never seen him like this before. “I’m okay.”

  He stared at me, and I suddenly recognized the emotion churning in his eyes. Horror. “God, Layla, he...he hurt you.”

  There was no denying that when my face still looked like I’d run into a wall. “I’m all right.”

  “It’s not all right. He hit you.” And then his gaze dropped, and I knew he saw the tips of the three angry slashes. He sucked in a ragged breath and a violent spasm shot through him. A low growl rumbled from his chest. “What form was he in?”

  “Zayne.” I put my hand on his trembling arm. “You’re starting to phase.”

  “Answer me!’” he shouted, making me jump. A few people cast glances our way. He swore and lowered his voice. “I’m sorry. Did he—”

  “No.” I was quick to answer. “He tried to kill me, but he— Zayne, you’re shifting.”

  Zayne was on the verge of losing complete control and going into full gargoyle mode. His skin had taken on a gray tint. While humans were accustomed to seeing them around at night, I doubted they’d expect one in front of the Smithsonian on a Monday morning.

  “How did you find me?” I asked, hoping to distract him.

  His wild gaze landed on me. “What?”

  I squeezed his arm with as much force as I could. His skin was already hardening. “How did you know I was here?”

  A few seconds passed. “It was a last-ditch effort. I checked everywhere and then I remembered how much you liked it here.” He blinked and his eyes returned to normal, skin becoming more golden by the second. “Hell, Layla-bug, I’ve been out of my mind.”

  “I’m sorry.” I threaded my fingers through his. “I couldn’t go home and I didn’t have a phone. I just...”

  “Don’t apologize.” He reached out, trailing his fingers around the corner of my lip and then feathering across the bruise on my jaw. “I’m going to kill that son of a bitch.”

  I dropped my hands into my lap. “That won’t be necessary.”

  “The Hell it won’t be!” Fury sharpened his voice. “This isn’t okay. Breaking his jaw won’t make it better. His father—”

  “He’s dead, Zayne.” I twisted my fingers together. “Petr’s dead.”

  Silence. So much silence that I had to look at him and my stomach dropped. He had that wild look in his eyes again. “I didn’t kill him,” I said in a rush. “He came after me while the Alphas were here. It was like he was sent to kill me, Zayne. It wasn’t just him messing with me and it getting out of hand.” I told him everything Petr had said, barely taking a breath. “And I would’ve died, but—”

  Zayne took my hand—the one with the ring—and I flinched. “But what, Layla?”

  “I didn’t kill him.” That much was true. “A demon showed up. He came out of nowhere and he killed Petr.”

  He grew very still.

  Lying to Zayne sucked. It made my chest feel raw and achy. “I don’t know why. I don’t know who it was. I don’t even know what he did with Petr’s body.” Fear rose on a breath of cold air. Very real considering what the Wardens would do if they learned I’d taken Petr’s soul and what they’d do to Roth. “And afterward, I was so confused and I knew what the Wardens would think—what Abbot would think. I’d be blamed, because Petr is a Warden. So I just—”

  “Stop,” Zayne said, squeezing my hand gently. “You’re not going to be blamed for what Petr brought on himself. I’m not going to let anything happen to you. You should’ve come to me. You didn’t have to be out here, dealing with this by yourself. I would’ve—” He cut himself off with a low moan.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, because I didn’t know what else to say.

  “God, Layla, don’t apologize.” A haunted look crept into his eyes right before he averted his gaze. He leaned back, thrusting fingers through his hair. It looked like he’d done that many times already. “Did you try to call me afterward?”

  I knew immediately what he was getting at and my heart ached. “No. I was calling you before...before it happened.”

  Zayne swore swiftly. “If I had answered—”

  “Don’t,” I pleaded.

  He shook his head, brows furrowed as if he was in some kind of pain. “If I had answered the phone, this wouldn’t have happened. I knew you had no place to go, but I was still so angry with you. Shit! No wonder you didn’t come home. You must’ve been so scared. Layla, I’m—”

  “You couldn’t have done anything.” I wiggled closer. Who knew what would’ve happened if Zayne had answered his phone. Petr may not have gotten me alone, but there would be other chances. “It would have happened no matter what. He wanted to kill me. He needed to kill me. That isn’t your fault.”

  Zayne didn’t respond immediately, and when he did speak, his voice was gruff. “I’ll tell my father what you’ve told me so you don’t have to go through this again, but he’s going to want to talk to you. He’s going to want to know exactly what Petr said to you and what the demon looked like.”

  Unease blossomed into thick apprehension. “I know.”

  He sighed and looked at me. Dark shadows spread under his eyes. “Everyone has been so worried. Father’s been beside himself—the whole clan. Let me take you home.” He held out his arm as he stood. “Layla?”

  I rose on shaky legs and went into the shelter of his body. Zayne held me close as we walked back to his car. When I looked up, he smiled, but the haunted look was still there and I knew that no matter how many times I reassured him that he couldn’t have prevented this, it wouldn’t make a difference. Just like Zayne could call the house I’d spent the past ten years living in “home,” but it would never mean that to me again.

  * * *

  Most of the clan was moving about the house when Zayne brought me home, and it was hard looking at them and wondering if some of them were disappointed that I was still standing.

  Goes without saying that Elijah and the members of his clan had vacated the compound the moment Zayne had called his father and told him that he’d found me and what had happened. Two of the clansmen were currently looking for them, but I doubted Elijah would be found, or that anything would happen to him.

  Trying to kill a half demon, even unsanctioned, probably only earned a Warden a smack on the hand.

  Besides Morris, who’d squeezed me to death when I got out of Zayne’s car, Nicolai was the first to break ranks. With a genuine smile of relief, he hugged me. “I’m glad you made it back to us.”

  I believed him. Even Geoff looked relieved, along with Abbot. The rest...eh, not so much. Then again, I wasn’t really close to the others. We we
re like ships passing in the night.

  Zayne had been right about his father wanting to question me. Most of what happened came from Zayne, but Abbot wanted to hear the details of the demon intervention from me. Lying to Zayne made my skin feel itchy and wrong, but with Abbot, it made my paranoia hit an all-new high. Luckily, it was just the three of us, so it didn’t completely feel like an inquisition.

  “And you’ve never seen this demon before?” Abbot asked. Sitting next to me on the couch, he didn’t look convinced as he stroked his beard.

  I decided to throw a little more of the truth out there. Parts that couldn’t hurt. “The demon didn’t look normal.”

  Zayne’s brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

  “He sort of looked like the Wardens.” I really hoped there was some OJ in the fridge.

  “An Upper Level demon,” Zayne said, looking at his father.

  “So maybe I have seen him before, but not in that form.”

  Abbot stared at me for several long moments. “Why don’t you head upstairs. I’ll send Jasmine up to take a look at you, make sure everything is okay.”

  Sweet relief shot through me even though I knew this wasn’t the end of the conversation. I was free for the time being. “I’m sorry for any trouble this—”

  “Stop apologizing,” Zayne said, eyes flaring that deep teal blue again. “None of this is your fault.”

  Abbot placed his hand on my shoulder and squeezed gently. He wasn’t a hugging type of guy, so it was the closest thing to an embrace I’d ever get. Emotion clogged my throat, a vile mixture of guilt, anger and betrayal. I was lying, but so was Abbot. Looking at him now, my gaze crawling over his weathered-but-handsome face, I had to wonder if he’d ever been honest with me.

  And what he had to gain by keeping the child of Lilith alive.

  “I’m sorry that we allowed Petr into this house,” Abbot said as I stood, his pale eyes sharp. “This home is a safe haven, and he breached that.”

  “And his clan,” Zayne added, voice rough with anger. “It’s awfully convenient that they bolted the moment they realized Layla was alive.”

  “It is.” Abbot stood, too. “We’ll get to the bottom of this.”

  I nodded and turned to leave, doubting that Elijah would suffer any extreme consequences if he or any of his clan were in on the plan to snuff me out. I knew they had to be, because while Petr loathed my very existence, he wouldn’t have gone after me without his father’s support.

  “Layla,” Abbot called out, and I stopped at the door. “Just one last thing.”

  My stomach tumbled. “Okay.”

  Abbot smiled tightly. “Where did you get the clothes you’re wearing?”

  * * *

  Hours later, my stomach still churned. Between the sickness that brewed after tasting a soul and the fact that I knew I was so busted, I didn’t venture far from the bathroom.

  The clothing—holy crap—how could I have forgotten that? How could Roth not have caught that? The too-big sweatpants and the shirt with some ’80s hair band emblazed across the front were so obviously not mine.

  And what had I told Abbot? That they were old gym clothes I had in my backpack? What kind of lame-o lie was that? Why would I have men’s clothing in my book bag, and why would I’ve changed into the clothes, but left my bag in the tree house?

  I wanted to smack myself.

  Hopefully, Abbot chalked it up to me being traumatized, but I doubted it. He wasn’t stupid. The way he’d smiled and the knowing gleam in his eyes told me he knew better. So why didn’t he call me out? Waiting for him to do so was worse.

  Ten minutes later, I was gripping the sides of the toilet and emptying out what Jasmine had managed to get me to eat after checking me over. “Jesus,” I gasped as another cramp rolled through me. Dry heaves racked my body until my eyes watered.

  Then the soul came up.

  Slicing its way up my throat, it dug in with tiny hooks, refusing to let go. My stomach clenched, doubling me over. Finally, white smoke expelled from my mouth. As the last of Petr’s soul left my body, I shuddered, collapsing against the bathroom wall.

  Petr’s soul floated in the air above me, a sad and twisted thing. Like a dark cloud before a violent storm, it swirled and churned. I could see neatly stacked yellow towels behind it, the little baskets I kept my makeup in. The soul’s mere presence tainted the walls.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered hoarsely, pulling my knees to my chest. As much as I hated Petr, I didn’t want this for him. What he had turned into after I’d taken his soul was something straight out of nightmares, and without his soul there was no chance for him to ever find peace in Heaven. Humans turned into wraiths. I had no idea what happened to Wardens who died without their souls.

  Soaked with sweat, I flushed the toilet and stood on weak legs. Leaning over, I turned on the shower. Steam filled the bathroom, breaking the black mass up. It evaporated in the hot mist, like it had never been there. I stripped off my clothes and took my second shower of the day. Glancing down, I stared at the ring on my finger. Part of me still wanted to get rid of the thing—throw it away or hide it.

  With wet fingers, I tried to slide the ring off. It wouldn’t budge. Wiggling it didn’t work, either. Holding it in the steady stream did nothing. Nothing I did would get the ring off my finger. It was strange, because it wasn’t like it was too tight. I could move it around, but just couldn’t get it off.

  Great. I’d probably somehow set the incantation into motion by putting the damn ring on, and now my finger would have to be chopped off.

  I stayed in the shower until my skin wrinkled, but the taint still lingered.

  The chills would be next.

  I’d just finished pulling on my pajamas when there was a knock on my bedroom door. Tugging my wet hair out from underneath my shirt, I sat on my bed. “Come in.”

  Zayne stepped in, a blur of white at first. When his essence faded, I saw the strands of blond hair shielding his face as he shut the door behind him. A light blue sweater stretched over his chest, nearly matching the color of his eyes.

  When he looked up and saw me, he stilled. “You look like crap.”

  I laughed, the sound of it raspy. “Thanks.”

  “Here’s your phone. It works fine and I...I cleaned it up,” he said, placing it on the nightstand. He sat beside me on the bed. I shied away, putting some distance between us. He caught my movement, his shoulders stiffening.

  “Layla,” he pleaded.

  “I’m just tired after everything.” I busied myself with getting my legs under the blanket. “Maybe I’m getting the flu or—”

  Zayne grabbed my hand. “Layla, you didn’t. Please tell me you didn’t.”

  I pulled my hand free. “No! No. I’m just coming down with something and I’m tired. It’s been a long night and day.”

  He pressed forward, trapping me between his body and the headboard. “You need to tell me if you did, Layla. If you took someone’s soul last night, even Petr’s, I need to know.”

  “No,” I whispered, curling my fingers into the blanket.

  His eyes searched mine intently and then he lowered his head. A soft sigh escaped his tightly pressed lips. “You’d tell me the truth, wouldn’t you?”

  I shivered. “Yes.”

  Zayne lifted his head, his steady gaze meeting mine once more. “And you trust me? You know I’d never turn you over to the Alphas, that I’d never do that to you. So please don’t lie to me now. Please promise me you’re not lying to me.”

  “I promise.” The lie felt sour in my mouth. I looked away, unable to hold his gaze. I recognized that there was a good chance that Zayne knew, just like he knew when I’d done it before.

  He let out a breath as he stared at his hand, fisted around the comforter. “Do you need anything?”

  Shaking my head, I shifted down on my back and shivered. “I’ll be okay.”

  Zayne fell silent for several minutes. When he spoke I could feel his eyes on me. “I talked
to Jasmine.”

  I cringed.

  He swallowed. “She said you were pretty bruised up.”

  Jasmine had gasped and murmured something unintelligible after she’d helped me strip out of my clothes and seen the smorgasbord of bruises.

  “She told me the claw marks shouldn’t scar, though.” His voice carried a tide of anger. “I’m glad Petr is dead. I just wish I had been the one to kill him.”

  I looked at him sharply. “You don’t really mean that.”

  “Yes. I do.” His eyes flared a startling teal color. “The only thing I wish more is that you never had to experience what you did.”

  Having no idea what the appropriate response to that was, I sat back and said nothing while wanting to say everything.

  Silence stretched out and then he said, “I’m sorry about Saturday morning.”

  “Zayne, you don’t—”

  “No, let me finish. It was a terrible move on my part. I