White Hot Kiss

by Jennifer L. Armentrout

  could’ve called you—I should’ve answered the phone when you called yesterday—and it wasn’t my place to suggest you stop tagging.”

  “I’m not tagging anymore.” The possessed human pretty much sealed that deal.

  “That doesn’t matter. I know how much tagging meant to you.”

  I rolled onto my side, nudging him with my covered elbow. “Yeah, but I was being a total bitch. You were just worried I’d get myself killed or something.”

  Zayne ran a hand through his hair, clasping the back of his neck. Muscles flexed and rolled under his shirt. Then he reached down, brushing strands of damp hair off my cheek. “You sure you don’t need anything? Juice or some fruit?”

  “No.” It was too late for that. I snuggled down, chilled to my very bones. I couldn’t remember how long it had lasted the time before. Two days? More? I squeezed my eyes shut, praying it would only be a day or so. I wanted to talk to him about Hell and Lilith, but I couldn’t figure out a way to do so that wouldn’t be tantamount to throwing myself in front of a loaded bus.

  “Do...do you have to leave?” I asked, even though I couldn’t tell him a thing.

  He smiled for the first time since he’d walked into the room. “Scoot over.”

  I wiggled around, giving him room. Zayne kept enough space between us, but I pulled the edge of the covers up, hiding my mouth. He gave me his lopsided grin and I recalled what Roth had said. That Zayne liked me. For a second, I didn’t feel like I was burning and freezing all at once. “So what did the Alphas want?”

  Zayne stretched on his side, propping his head up with his arm. “Apparently there’s been an increase in Upper Level demon movement in D.C. and the surrounding cities.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose, scrunching up his face. “More than the Alphas have seen in centuries.”

  I stopped fidgeting with the blankets. I may have stopped breathing for a few seconds.

  “It’s nothing for you to really worry about,” he reassured me quickly, misjudging my reaction. “They’re our problem, one we will take care of.”

  “But...why would they be coming topside? Why so many?” A different kind of coldness seeped through my veins.

  Zayne rolled onto his side, facing me. “The Alphas think they’re planning something. Possibly another rebellion, but no one is sure. All of us are to be on the lookout for them. Like my father had ordered after the possessed human attacked you and Morris, we’ve been ordered to question them first before we send them back to Hell.”

  My throat dried. What if they caught Roth? I pulled my hand out from under the blanket, running it over my forehead. Dampness clung to my skin. Abbot had told me about the last rebellion when I was a little kid. It occurred during the Spanish Influenza. No one really knew how many people had died from the flu or from demonic possession. Was this what some of the demons wanted? For the Lilin to be reborn and another rebellion to occur?

  “Hey,” Zayne said, inching closer. “It’s okay. You don’t have anything to worry about.”

  “Huh?”

  “You’re so pale, Layla.” He reached over, pulling the blankets around my shoulders.

  “Oh. I told you I’m tired.” I rolled onto my back, stretching out the sudden cramping in my legs.

  “Maybe you should stay home from school tomorrow,” he suggested.

  Sounded like a plan. “Maybe.”

  He didn’t respond for a while. “Layla?”

  I turned my head, meeting his steady gaze. I tried to smile, but it came off more like a grimace. “Yeppers?”

  “I know this is more than you being tired or what Petr did.”

  The air fled my lungs.

  Leaning on his elbow, he placed his hand on my cheek. “I know that what you probably did was done because you were defending yourself. Or maybe it was afterward because of what Petr did. And I can’t even begin to imagine how hard it is for you, but I know you’re stronger than this. And I know you don’t want to live like this. You’re not a demon, Layla. You’re a Warden. You’re better than this.”

  I felt my lower lip begin to tremble. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. My voice came out broken and small. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to. I just wanted him to stop and—”

  “Shh...” Zayne closed his eyes and a muscle popped in his jaw. “I know. It’s okay.”

  Tears burned my eyes. “I won’t do it again. I promise. I’m just so sorry.”

  Zayne pressed his lips against my forehead. “I know.” He pulled away, turning off the bedside lamp and settling back now. “Get some rest. I’ll stay here until I have to leave.”

  I curled onto my side again, reaching for his hand blindly. He took it, threading his fingers through mine. “I’m sorry,” I whispered again. Sorry for yelling at him, sorry for taking Petr’s soul and, most of all, sorry for all the lies.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  I stayed home Tuesday, spending most of the day in bed. By the time school started on Wednesday, the worst of the bruises on my face had faded and the hardest part of the sickness had passed.

  Stacey was waiting for me at my locker. Her mouth dropped open when she saw me. “Okay. I know you said you were in a car accident on Friday, but you look like you need to see a doctor.”

  Apparently I still looked like crap.

  I kicked my locker door shut and followed her into bio. Roth was a no-show, and by the time lunch rolled around, he was still MIA. Between feeling like I was crawling out of my skin and wondering where Roth was, all I wanted to do was go back to hiding in my bed. The Wardens had been given orders to hunt down the Upper Level demons invading the city. Had they caught Roth? My breath stalled out every time I considered that.

  I reasoned that my concern was only rooted in the fact that he was the only one who knew that Hell was after me and why. I needed Roth alive and whole. That was the only reason why I was concerned. Yeah. Right.

  At lunch, Stacey’s thoughts mirrored my own. “I wonder where Roth has been. He hasn’t been to school since Friday, either.”

  I said nothing.

  “At first, I thought that maybe you caved to the wild lust between you two and ran off with him and eloped.”

  I almost choked on my half-frozen pizza. “You are insane.”

  Stacey shrugged. “What? You can’t tell me that if you were alone with him you wouldn’t jump his bones.”

  “I was alone with him, and I didn’t.” My eyes popped wide a second after those words left my mouth. “Crap,” I muttered.

  She clutched my arm. “Oh, my God, details—I need details right now.”

  Nothing short of a zombie chewing on her head would distract Stacey now, and even then I wasn’t sure if she’d let it go. Coming up with a quick excuse, I played it off. “I ran into him over the weekend and we hung out.”

  “In public or at his place?”

  “At his place, but it wasn’t a big deal.” I squirmed. No way in Hell was I telling her that he’d kissed me. I’d never hear the end of it. “Aren’t you going to Wick It tonight?” I asked, hoping to change the subject.

  Sitting down, Sam rolled his eyes. “Who would want to? It’s poetry-slam night, which means everyone who thinks they can form a couplet will be there.”

  “Don’t be jealous,” Stacey said, “because I didn’t invite you. And back to Layla.”

  “What about Layla?” Sam eyeballed the rest of my pizza.

  I slid my plate toward him. “Nothing.”

  “Nothing,” gasped Stacey. “She spent time alone with Roth—time at his place. Was it in his bedroom? Did you see his bed? Wait. Let me start with the most pressing question—did you lose your virginity finally?”

  “Jesus, Stacey, why are you so interested in her virginity status?” asked Sam.

  “Yeah, I’m wondering the same thing.” I tucked my hair back. “But to answer your question, no, I didn’t put out. It wasn’t anything like that.”

  “Look, you’re my best friend. I’m obligated to take an interest in your sexual activi
ty.” She paused, grinning. “Or lack thereof.”

  I rolled my eyes.

  “That’s kind of disturbing.” Sam elbowed Stacey as he grabbed a handful of her Tater Tots.

  “Wait. It’s not ‘like that’ when we’re referring to the hottest guy to walk these halls?” Stacey sat back, throwing her hands up. “You’re unreal.” Another startled look crossed her face before I could respond. “Did you see his bed? Holy Mary, mother of baby Jesus, were you actually on his bed?”

  I turned a thousand shades of red. “Stacey...”

  “Your face tells me you did see his bed, probably even sat on it. What was it like?” She leaned forward, eyes eager. “Did it smell like him? Like sex? Did he have silk sheets? Come on, he had to have satin or silk.”

  “Really?” Sam put his drink down, scowling at her. “Did you just ask her if his bed smelled like sex? Who cares what his bed smells like?”

  “I do,” Stacey exclaimed, eyes wide.

  “It didn’t smell like sex,” I mumbled, scratching the side of my face.

  Stacey scoffed. “You don’t even know what sex smells like.”

  I kind of wanted to strangle her. “Can we just—”

  “You know what? You’re acting just like the rest of the stupid girls here.” Sam grabbed his bag, stood and slung it over his shoulder. “He’s good-looking. Awesome. You don’t have to go all stalker on him.”

  Stacey’s mouth dropped open.

  I stared up at Sam, suddenly feeling very sorry for him. I started to stand. “Sam—”

  Cheeks flushed, he shook his head. “I’ll see you guys in English. Peace.”

  We watched him dump his lunch, then head out the double doors. I turned to Stacey, biting my lip. She watched the doors like she expected him to walk back through and yell “I’m just joking!” and laugh.

  When he didn’t, she fell back in her seat, dragging her fingers through her hair. “What the Hell was that?”

  “Stacey, Sam has liked you since we were freshmen. It’s obvious.”

  She snorted. “How can something like that be obvious to you and not me? Up until Roth, you didn’t think boys had a pulse.”

  “This isn’t about me, you jerk.”

  “You have to be wrong.” She shook her head as she tossed a Tater Tot on her tray. “Sam doesn’t think about me that way. He can’t. We’ve been friends for years.”

  I thought about Zayne. “Just because you’ve been friends with someone doesn’t mean they don’t think of you as something more. Sam’s cute, Stacey. And he’s smart.”

  “Yeah,” she said slowly. “But it’s Sam.”

  “Whatever.”

  She arched a brow. “Forget the Sam thing for the time being. Do you like Roth? I mean, you don’t hang out with any guys besides Sam or Zayne. This is kind of epic.”

  “It’s not epic.” I downed the rest of my drink, still thirsty.

  “So you do like him?”

  I eyed her drink. “No—I don’t know. You gonna drink that?”

  Stacey handed me her bottle of water. “What do you mean you don’t know?”

  “It’s hard to explain.” I wiped the back of my hand over my mouth. “Roth isn’t like other guys.”

  “You’re telling me,” she said drily.

  I laughed, but it quickly faded. I wanted to tell Stacey about Roth—about everything. What he was. What I was. It wouldn’t be a stretch for her to believe it, not after the Wardens went public. People probably already expected the truth. The need to just talk, to be honest for once, hit me hard.

  “Layla? Are you feeling okay?” Concern pinched her brow. “I know it was just a car accident, but you look sick.”

  “Yeah, I think I’m just coming down with something.” I forced a smile. “No big deal.”

  The bell rang, forcing our conversation and my need to tell her the truth to end. We gathered up our trash, and as we headed out, Stacey stopped me outside the cafeteria. I swallowed thickly. Souls—souls were everywhere.

  Then I noticed the blush crawling across Stacey’s face. She never blushed. Never. “What’s up?” I asked.

  She fiddled with the strap on her bag, exhaling. The puff of air lifted her bangs for a moment. “You really think Sam likes me?”

  In spite of everything, I smiled. “Yeah, I do.”

  Stacey nodded, focusing on the stream of students. “He’s not bad-looking.”

  “No.”

  “And he’s not a jackass,” she continued. “He’s not like Gareth or any other guy who just wants to get in a girl’s pants.”

  “He’s so much better than Gareth,” I agreed.

  “He is,” she said, pausing. A troubled look pulled at her features. “Layla, do you think I hurt his feelings? I didn’t mean to.”

  I grabbed her hand, squeezing. “I know. And I think Sam knows that, too.”

  She squeezed my hand back and then slipped free. Turning around, she grinned as she headed down the hallway backward. “Well. This is an interesting development.”

  I grinned. “It is. What are you going to do about it?”

  Stacey shrugged, but her eyes were shining. “Who knows? I’ll call you later, okay?”

  We broke apart after that, heading in different directions. I spent the rest of the day looking over my shoulder, expecting Roth to pop up. He never did, and the gnawing in my stomach expanded until I could barely concentrate in class, or later that day on the conversation at the dinner table. None of the Wardens spoke of catching any Upper Level demons, but they didn’t typically let me in on that kind of stuff.

  Abbot didn’t address the clothing issue either or even broach the topic of Petr’s attack and the subsequent demonic involvement. Waiting for him to say something, to confront my lies, was driving me insane. In my own home, with all these secrets building between everyone, I felt like an outsider and uneasy in my own skin.

  Not to mention I was trying to keep myself from freaking out. Knowing there were demons out to either use me in some kind of bizarre incantation or kill me made me jumpy. What also didn’t help was the fact that Elijah was still out there. When it was quiet, my imagination got the best of me.

  * * *

  Thursday morning, I’d officially decided that the craziest thing to happen over the past couple of weeks had nothing to do with learning I was the child of the Lilith or that I could somehow raise a horde of soul-eating demons. Or that there was more than a crap ton of demons who wanted me dead. Nope. The craziest thing was Stacey.

  She was acting weird and surprisingly subdued. She didn’t talk about sex or boys within the first five seconds of a conversation. In English on Wednesday, after the lunch fallout with Sam, she’d laughed at everything he said, which was awkward to watch. Sam kept sending me looks, and I tried to ignore them. I had a feeling it had to do with her newfound knowledge of his crush on her.

  Not that she’d admit to it.

  Grabbing her bio text, she kicked her locker door shut. “You still look sick. You should go see a doctor, Layla.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Don’t change the subject. You’ve been acting like a weirdo since lunch yesterday.”

  Stacey turned around, leaning against the locker as she looked at me with raised brows. “You’re weird every day. You disappear when you’re supposed to meet up with us. You hang out with the hottest guy on the planet and say ‘it’s not like that.’ Hello. You’re the weird friend here.”

  I winced. All of that was true. “Whatever.”

  She pushed off the locker, linking her arm through mine. “I just don’t want Sam to think I’m...one of those girls anymore.”

  “But you are one of those girls,” I said slowly. The steady stream of shimmery souls demanded my attention, but I focused. “And Sam likes you for who you are.”

  “Obviously he doesn’t.”

  I hip-bumped her. “You’re being a spaz.”