The Highwayman

by Michele Hauf

  Why was it here? Was it really after her, as Max suspected? It made little sense.

  Aby had always thought demons should revere familiars. The familiar was their link to this realm, after all. There were few wizards talented enough to bring a demon here without a conduit, even fewer demons that could bridge on their own.

  The Highwayman rolled up the whip and placed it at his hip. He shook his head, tossing the long bangs from his eyes. His broad shoulders thrust back as he scanned the skies.

  Aby traced her lips with a fingertip. If Maximilien Fitzroy was supposed to be her enemy then why couldn’t she take her eyes from him, or stop imagining him in her bed?

  He rushed into the house and pulled Aby to his chest. Cupping her head, he held her there, feeling her frantic heartbeat against his body. It wasn’t fair a fragile woman like her had to face the big bads.

  Why couldn’t they pick on someone their own size? Like him?

  She shivered against him. Max surfaced from the adrenaline high and for the first time he really felt Aby against him, warm and delicate. She clung to him.

  He clung to her.

  When had he become so needy? So eager to draw another body to his and give it comfort?

  This has nothing to do with your lack of sexual fulfillment.

  You want to possess her. To steal her. To tuck her away like those jewels you take, and then forget about her.

  Right. And that disturbed him more.

  He stepped from the embrace and paced away. “You’re not safe, Aby. Maybe I should find a way to stick around, on lookout, you know.”

  “I don’t need a bodyguard.”

  Her obstinate remark pricked at his concern.

  “So a tiny thing like you thinks she can take care of herself?” She stood with her hands defiantly on her hips. “The wards and sigils will protect for the most part, but they’re not foolproof. What if a demon gets in one night while you’re sleeping?”

  He saw the move coming—and let it happen.

  Aby brought up a roundhouse kick, connecting low behind his knee. Wincing, he went down. A punch to his jaw had him blinking. She packed a hell of a right hook.

  He landed on his back, arms sprawled. It hadn’t hurt that much, but a little acting could prove a point.

  Aby bent over him and gripped his collar. “Still think I can’t protect myself?”

  Silly kitty cat. “You’ve got the moves, I’ll say that much.”

  Gripping her wrists, he used surprise and lifted her as he stood. Wrists held high, he twisted them and brought her arms down before her stomach, her back to his chest.

  “Demons will laugh at your ineffectual kicks, Aby,” he hissed into her ear. “You can’t punch out a demon. They’re likely to bite off your fist.”

  “Let go of me!”

  He released her, and she shot away from him toward the bed, which sat in the middle of the living room. Strange place for a bed. But what about this woman was not strange?

  “I’m trying to show you what it’s like,” he said calmly.

  “Then all I need do is lure the demon closer.”

  She crooked a suggestive finger at him, while she climbed upon the bed. Her smile worried him.

  “You’re playing with fire, Aby.”

  “Just humor me, Highwayman. Come on. A little closer.”

  He stopped before the bed, the skewed black comforter skimming his knees. Aby gripped him by the shoulders. What was she trying to prove? He didn’t want to do this with her, on the bed.

  And then he did. So he dropped to the bed.

  “Gotcha,” Aby declared sweetly.

  She sprang up and gave the bed a shove. Max started when it rolled easily across the floor. The bed was on wheels? Bleeding cowboys!

  Not wanting to take the ride, he stepped off and onto a curious design. He squatted to study the ten-foot-by-ten-foot circle. The sigil was worked into the parquet floor with a darker maple wood.

  “Well, well. Thrill me.”

  “A binding ward to hold the demon in place.” Aby walked the circumference of the sigil. It was as wide as the bed and easily concealed beneath it. “I wouldn’t be a very smart familiar if I didn’t keep them locked to one spot after bridging them.”

  “Why the wheels?”

  “I don’t like to sleep with my head away from the wall.” She gave the bed a kick and it butted up against the brick wall. “Just depends on what I’ve got going on, for the position of the bed.”

  When she wasn’t bridging a demon, but entertaining a lover, what position did she put the bed in? Or did she release the wheel locks and let it ride all across the floor? Hell, that was a ride he’d be willing to take.

  Max swiped a hand over his face. Stick to business. “You’re in danger, Aby. I still don’t like leaving you alone.”

  “I’m a big girl.” She made a walking gesture with her fingers, and nodded toward the door. “Time for you to leave.”

  “All right. I don’t like it, but I won’t stay where I’m not wanted.”

  “You’re wanted, Max.”

  Oh, yeah?

  Tugging her into his arms, Max kissed her. Deeply, so she would remember he’d marked her. Lingering, so his heat would remain long after he’d left. Soulfully, because he felt the connection on an inner level he couldn’t explain.

  Aby’s small breasts hugged below his pecs. Her narrow hips pressed to his. The duster coat impeded their closeness, and he was thankful, for he tried desperately not to have her feel his erection. There was nothing she could do for it, anyway.

  She purred into his mouth, like a lazy cat sprawled in the sun. The sound hummed through his bones and fixed itself in him more securely than he imagined his kiss stayed with her.

  “I like kissing you, Max. Is that so wrong?”

  He sighed and reached for her hand. Drawing it up, he turned her tattooed wrist toward her. “You tell me.”

  He stepped away from her wanting arms, and found it was harder than expected. It was better if she kept him his enemy. But for whom, he hadn’t yet decided.

  She tried to sleep. But sitting at the end of the bed, her legs dangling over the edge to toe the demon ward set into the floor, Aby could only think of Max.

  The notion of the Highwayman was such a romantic one. A man who had lived for centuries and had once traveled the high roads as a thief and gentleman robber. She found it appealing—the image of him slipping precious jewels from the necks of women in big pouffed dresses and sumptuous décolletage.

  Aby could imagine rolling along in a carriage, her heart racing to discover the unexpected arrival of a deep-voiced intruder. A hand wielding a pistol would plunge in through the carriage door. The wide cuffs of his coat would brush her knee. She would press her fingers to her breasts rising and falling rapidly, exposed to the nipple by the risqué fashions.

  And he would notice. Those dark, sad eyes would take her in. He’d lick his lips and grant her that sexy smirk, and the dimple in his left cheek would wink at her.

  She didn’t wear fancy jewels. All she had to offer was her body…

  “What idiotic story are you writing yourself into?” she chided herself aloud.

  Standing and pacing the ward, Aby rubbed the back of her neck.

  She’d never done that before, daydream about a man.

  She couldn’t deny there had been times she’d fantasized about Severo, though never sexually. Yes, there had been a few touches, but it had never gone far. It didn’t feel right to think of him that way. He was a mentor, a companion and the best friend she had.

  She needed a girlfriend. Someone she could chatter to about her lusty thoughts of Max. Severo didn’t have many female friends, so she’d never had the opportunity to form those kinds of friendships.

  “A couple days and he’ll want to have sex with me. To summon the deprivation demon.”

  The idea should not disturb her. After all, it was her job and the sex was great. But it was so impersonal.

  Aby had
often wondered what real sex would be like. Sex that didn’t result in a demon. Slow, lazy and lingering sex. Sex between two people who cared about one another.

  “Can I do this with him?”

  It could never be impersonal with Max. There was no way she could get naked with him without feeling…everything. Emotionally. Physically. In her heart. In her very soul.

  Would it be easy for him? Would he come in, have sex with her, then breeze out after the demon shadow had been exorcised? Men were experts at hiding their feelings, at taking without considering what emotional remnants lay in their wake.

  “He doesn’t think of me as a potential relationship.” That was why he didn’t require a witch.

  Sighing, she sat on a stool before the kitchen counter, but couldn’t summon an appetite. Not even her favorite late-night apple-and-almond-butter sandwich appealed.

  The man carried a demon’s shadow within him, so all they had to do was summon this demon and reunite it with its shadow. Max could then slay the demon and be off to whatever adventures next waited.

  Without killing her. He had promised, and she would hold him to it.

  Something Max had said simmered up to Aby’s brain. It was his story about how he’d gotten the shadow. He hadn’t been alone.

  He and his partner had been in the room when the demon came through. So that meant…His partner must carry half the demon’s shadow as well.

  Why hadn’t that occurred to her as soon as he’d told the story?

  “We can’t do this. It’s impossible.”

  Chapter 10

  A by entered the motel and checked the reception desk. No one sat behind the Formica counter. She didn’t have Max’s room number, but it didn’t matter. She could sniff him out.

  He was still abnormally clean, but now she had the taste of him in her mouth, and the impression of his heat clung to her flesh. Finding him would merely require her to follow the beats of her hungry heart.

  She’d considered not coming here for about two seconds. What she’d realized was important for him to know. Sure, it was nearing three in the morning, but the dude didn’t sleep, so he should welcome a visit at any time.

  The atrium housed a large indoor pool and was dark save for the lights at the base of huge plastic palm trees. Aby wandered by the glass doors, intent on scoping out the rooms.

  A reflection from the pool caught her attention. There was something floating in the still waters. A man.

  Quietly opening the door, she slipped off her heels and padded around one side of the pool. Chlorine pricked at her sinuses. Puddles of water pooled on the green and blue patchwork of tiles. Water rippled, glittering with the ambient light.

  He floated on his back, arms spread out and eyes closed, like a dead body—only this one had an incredible musculature and wasn’t livid. Black swim trunks conformed to his thighs and hips.

  Aby snuck to the water’s edge. She didn’t like large bodies of water. The idea of her head going under made her shiver. Once, she had fallen into Severo’s pool and hadn’t used the patio for the rest of that summer.

  “How’d you find me?”

  She started at Max’s deep voice. He still floated. If he hadn’t spoken she wouldn’t have known he was aware of her.

  “I saw your car out in the lot. You dare to park it in this neighborhood?”

  “It’s warded.”

  “Against demons, but what about human hoodlums?”

  “Hoodlums? Do people still use that word?”

  “Apparently so. Is this pool open now?”

  “Nope.” A swish of his fingers redirected his wavering path and his body turned slowly. His head floated closer to the edge where she knelt.

  “You have an in with the owners?”

  “A crisp hundred-dollar bill speaks volumes. I was meditating.”

  She felt no desire to leave. In fact, seeing him in the water was like spying a perfect leaf floating by. She wanted to grab it, hold it close and marvel over it.

  “You do this often?”

  “Float? Whenever I get a chance. It’s the closest I’ll ever get to sleep without drowning. Drowning’s better though, because then you die.”

  That he placed death so highly disturbed her. Immortality apparently wasn’t all everyone thought it was cracked up to be.

  “Can you drown?” she wondered.

  “Probably not. I’ve been sliced from shoulder to gut, dragged behind a runaway horse, stabbed in the kidney and had more body parts mangled than you can imagine. Still here.”

  A swish of his fingers sent him gliding. Aby marveled that he needn’t kick or flap his arms much to move about the water’s surface. If she jumped in she’d sink to the bottom. It was an irrational fear, but she utilized better-safe-than-sorry thinking around water.

  “I thought you wanted the demon released so you could be mortal? That won’t happen with you dead.”

  “I don’t want death, Aby. Sometimes…it’s like a fantasy. With death I’d close my eyes. I’d sleep.”

  “It would be a very long sleep.”

  “A man needs sleep to stay sane.”

  She thought him completely sane. Fighting demons and protecting others, like her, was as far from madness as she could imagine.

  “Want to join me?”

  Goodness, did that offer appeal. She’d love to join him in another hug, a kiss, even. But on dry land. “Wouldn’t want to interrupt your meditation. I’m not keen on swimming pools anyway.”

  “Is that a cat thing?” He righted suddenly, standing so his shoulders were level with the water’s surface. Water dripped down his face and neck. His hair, darker when wet, slicked across his forehead.

  “It is a cat thing. Though I do love to soak in a nice hot bath.”

  “So next time I do a bubble bath you’ll be interested?”

  She laughed. “I can’t see you doing bubbles.”

  His was an easy smile. Aby wanted to trace it, but he was too far out to reach. Come closer, and let me lick the water from your mouth.

  Seeming to sense her secret desires, Max floated forward and hooked his elbows on the pool’s stone edge, bringing his face but inches from hers.

  He didn’t say anything, but the way he was examining her, from the inside out, made Aby look away from his intense gaze. No man had ever looked at her so straight on, and without a word.

  What was that about? He’d left her feeling as though they could be nothing more than business associates. One minute he was kissing her, the next he was pulling away.

  Was it because he thought he should comply when she asked for a kiss? What did they call that? A mercy kiss. She hoped not. That would be such a lie.

  She felt compelled to stand and walk away. Instead, she turned her gaze to his. Maybe she could see deep into him, too. Did she want to know what lived inside Maximilien Fitzroy?

  His narrowed eyes did not waver from hers. And there, she thought to see a distant pain, or perhaps a pain so close it could only survive by burying itself deep within Max’s being.

  “What’d you see?” he asked, resting his chin on a fist. “Demons?”

  She shook her head. “Something private, I think.”

  He smirked. “You know more about me than any person on this planet, Aby.”

  “Does that bother you?”

  Water droplets slid down his nose and dropped onto Aby’s toes. “Not as much as it should.”

  With a lunge, he levered himself up to kiss her on the forehead. Beads of chlorinated water dripped onto her cheeks. And then he plunged backward and did a somersault that kicked up more water.

  Aby stepped back. A flick of her finger wiped away the water from her cheek. There were times her fur ruffled, even when she was in human form.

  “What did you come for?” he asked as he resumed floating.

  “It’s about the summoning. It won’t work.”

  “’Course it will. I’ve got the spell right here.” He tapped his forehead. “Or are you having second th
oughts?”

  “Not at all. I’m in for the adventure.” And the close contact with him. “Fifteen thousand, right?”

  “Yep. In cash.”

  “Cash is always good. But, Max, you said you and your partner were in the room with the familiar when the demon was summoned.”

  “Yep, Rainier Deloche, the old rascal.”

  “So what makes you believe he doesn’t carry the demon’s shadow within him as well?”

  “I’m sure he does. If he’s still alive.”

  “Then it won’t work. You each carry one half. The two of you must be present if you wish the demon to retrieve its complete shadow and leave your bodies. Without both halves there cannot be a whole.”

  Max stood, the water sloshing about his hips. Water slicked down his steel-hard abs. He flicked his head to shake off the moisture. He hadn’t considered what she suggested?

  “You’ve had over two centuries to think about this. It never occurred to you that you might need your partner present?”

  “No. I’ve never thought about the half thing. Feels pretty whole when I shadow. What makes you think we each have a half?”

  “Intuition.”

  “Intuition is not fact.”

  “It’s better than fact, it’s instinct. That’s how I survive. It’s the only way it’ll work. I’m sure of it.”

  “Christ.” The Highwayman slapped the water, sending it off in splatters around him.

  Skittering sideways to avoid the splash, Aby slipped. Her wet toes losing footing on the slick tiles, she wavered. Her body swayed forward.

  Screaming, Aby landed in the water.

  Her face went under. Arms scrambling to grasp something solid to keep from sinking deeper, Aby choked on water. It spilled down her throat, muffling her cries. Chlorine burned in her nose. She couldn’t breathe.

  She was going to die. Again. And she would never remember the sexy Highwayman.

  Something grabbed her—Max’s strong hands—and pushed. Her body skimmed through the water until her face surfaced and she gasped. She slid her arms around his broad shoulders, digging her fingers into his flesh.

  “You okay?” he asked.