By the time I cross my legs behind his lower back and arch my pelvis against the hard length of him, all thought of slowing down has fled my overheated mind.
Matching the pressure of my hips, he presses me even more firmly against the wall, the cool metal such a counterpoint to the heat of our bodies that I half-expect to see steam rising up from us.
In one swift motion, he unwinds my arms from around his neck and shoves them up over our heads, until the pressure of his body against mine is all that holds me above the floor.
If we were naked, I would be begging him to take me there. Every nerve ending screams at me to fuck him now.
Even if I don’t know what kind of game he’s playing.
Even if I didn’t know what he really wants from me.
In this moment, at least, I know exactly what I want from him.
And I almost don’t care what I might have to do to get it.
Gods.
I’m not only losing sight of my objective.
I’m pretty certain I’m losing all objectivity, too.
Chapter 8
I don’t know who to trust—I’m not sure I can trust anyone.
Maybe least of all myself.
No matter how often I tell myself that, I can’t believe it, because I’ve realized that I trust Shaitan.
Back in his underground space, after that mind-blowing kiss, he’d said, “Is it okay with you if we go to your apartment? If I’m going to stop Jaecar, I’ll need to prepare the curse in addition to cleaning up.”
It took me a minute to come back to myself, but I’d managed.
Now we were headed back into the public areas of the Complex, our blood-spattered clothes covered with more of those shifter-friendly robes of his, hoods up.
I have no idea how he smuggled the robes in—or smuggled himself in, for that matter—but we look like devotees of some obscure religion as we walk past other citizens.
I even keep my hands tucked into the sleeves, heightening the image.
It also hides the dried blood.
Thank all the gods above and below that the Complex has moved into the night-cycle so we can slip from shadow to shadow.
We arrive at my apartment without incident and I use my palm implant to unlock the door.
“I really need one of those,” Shaitan says a little mournfully as I close the door behind us.
“I’m surprised you don’t have one yet. Seems like the sort of think it would be easy to pull off corpses.”
He shrugs. “They make good currency.”
I can’t help but laugh. “Of course they do.”
I claim the first shower.
I can’t stand the smell of myself any longer.
When I finish showering, Shaitan is completing some kind of incantation. I can’t hear what he’s saying from inside the WD, and once I’m out, he wraps up with a few final lines.
“Is it ready?” I ask.
“Almost. I just need to activate it.”
That may be more than any other non-demon has learned about how demon curses work.
Then again, who am I going to tell?
I spend the time he’s in the shower pacing back and forth, considering everything that’s happened.
When he steps out into the main room, I all but launch myself at him.
“Stop.” He sounds strangled as he speaks against my lips.
Despite every instinct telling me to push forward, I forced myself to pull away from Shaitan.
“What's wrong?”
“We need to talk about something.” His voice, breathless from the kiss, sends a bolt of heat straight through me.
“Does it have to be now? I agree, whatever you say, yes, I agree.” I’m almost babbling, but it works—his eyes spark again, and he groans.
“If we keep going, I might never want to quit again.” He speaks the words between kisses, though, and when I twine my arms around his neck and press myself against him, he definitely doesn’t want to stop. I can tell by the way his cock twitches against me.
I’m certain that if I let him speak, we’ll talk ourselves out of this. And I don’t want that to happen.
But I can also tell he's almost convinced himself to set me down and act like a sensible demon.
He’s about to suggest we quit.
And I don’t want that.
No. More than that, I can’t let it happen.
I won’t.
So I lean back, pull off my shirt, and stare at him, waiting, my eyes reflecting the passion in his back at him.
Shaitan's gaze rakes across me, starting with my breasts and sliding up, snagging on my mouth for an instant before he drags it up to meet my wide-eyed stare. Everywhere his look touches burns, as if his eyes trailed fire across my skin.
His eyes turn smoky, darkening even more with desire as I watch, pinned in place by the heat he exudes—more than just a standard sexual heat, I realize.
It’s a demonic heat.
And I want it.
As he holds my gaze with his, he reaches out one hand, lightly closed, and runs his knuckles, hotter than any other Meta or Human’s, down the side of my face. The feel of his skin rasping against me sends shivers rolling up and down my back.
“Okay?” The jagged edges of his voice seem to follow his touch, back down to the side of my neck.
“Yes,” I whispered, my own words ragged with want.
This is a bad idea.
I ran away from Jaecar to find safety.
Sex with a demon is a lot of things. Hot. Sensual. Amazing.
But it’s not safe.
No matter how it feels at the moment.
As Shaitan pulls me into his arms, I decide I don’t care.
Just for tonight, I will let go of the terror that’s chased me for the last year and allow myself to simply act on my desires.
I will trust that Shaitan can save me from the bounty hunter.
And tomorrow I’ll get him to activate the curse.
His lips descend toward mine, and a wave of desire crashes through me, stronger than I anticipated or even thought possible after the last few months.
I tilt my face toward him, and he claims my mouth, his tongue tangling with mine in a heated kiss that leaves me breathless.
Shaitan runs his forefinger along the side of my breast. As the ridges of his fingertip brush against my skin, goose bumps pop up along my arms. My nipples tighten and my breath catches in the back of my throat.
He pulls away and watches me intently as he slips one arm behind my shoulders, pulls me in tighter against him, and brushes his lips against mine.
Then he sweeps his burning hand across my nipple, and it pebbles under his touch. My attention is split between concentrating on the feel of his mouth against mine and the stroke of his fingertips as they drift down, tracing a line from my hardened, sensitive nipple to the skin around my belly button. There he circles my navel, leaving trails of fire behind that sear deep into my belly like a burning coal at my core.
At every point he touches, the contrast between the harsh, not-quite-painful flames of his fingertips and my own soft skin sends chills racing out across every inch of me.
When he grazes his lightly stubbled chin across my cheek and takes my earlobe in between his teeth, the scorching sensation makes me moan aloud.
Almost frantically, I shove his pants down—then wait impatiently as he gently removes the rest of my clothes. As soon as I can, I push him backward onto the bed, allowing his superheated thumb to flick against my clit as I climb atop him.
I’m wet and ready, and his fingers slip into me easily. I rock against them for a moment, but it’s not enough.
“No.” I shake my head frantically. “Not enough. I want to feel your cock inside me.”
I lift high enough up to take the length of him in my hand. He’s scorching hot and harder than I’ve ever felt anyone—like a silk-covered steel rod.
I close my eyes to concentrate as I sink down on him. He holds himself perf
ectly still as I grind down until the base of his shaft presses against me and every blistering inch of him is buried inside me.
Leaning my hands against his chest, I lift myself up high. Finally, I open my eyes to catch his gaze with my own, and slide down him, faster this time. Then again
Shaitan rests his hands against my hips without really holding on, letting those searing palms slide up and down as I move against him.
I wonder briefly if I’ll have actual blisters where he’s touching me when this is over.
I don’t care.
As I ride him, that coal of pleasure he sank into my core begins to send out scorching tendrils, meeting up with the heat he’s sending into me. I move faster and faster, fucking him as hard as I can as bliss simmers inside me, filling me up, until I scream aloud, convulsing around him as I boil over.
When the aftershocks of my orgasm fade a little, Shaitan rolls us over, settling me back on the blanket without ever sliding out of me. Then he begins pumping in and out of me. I run my hands down his back and clutch his ass, pulling him even deeper into me.
As he begins to throb, burying himself as far inside me as he can, I come again, pulsing in time to Shaitan's own molten orgasm, and we dissolve into one another until I can barely tell where he ends and I begin.
My apartment door slams open, jerking me awake.
By the time I figure out what’s going on, I’m already out of bed, standing naked with one of my homemade garrotes in one hand, a sharpened cooking knife in the other.
Shaitan’s on the other side of the bed, standing between the mattress and the wall. He holds one hand in front of him as if warding off Jaecar. The other is pulled in near his chest with the fingers curled slightly, as if he were holding a ball. I’m guessing he’s holding the curse ready to cast. I take all that in with a single glance, even as the bounty hunter in the doorway evaluates the scene in front of him.
“Well. Isn’t this nice?” Jaecar says with a sneer. “The demon and the whore, together at last.”
I blink once before answering. “Wrong terminology, dumbass. Whores get paid. I did it for fun.”
Shaitan doesn’t speak. He’s holding himself perfectly still, his gaze trained on Jaecar.
What is he waiting for?
He should just cast the curse, already.
Unless there’s something else he needs.
Something I didn’t give him the chance to tell me last night.
Gods. I should’ve let him say his piece last night.
Before I fucked him.
Well, whatever he’s waiting on, I assume it’ll be worthwhile to distract Jaecar in the meantime. “But if you’re looking for a whore, you could try in one of the Human-heavy areas. I hear there are plenty selling over there.”
The hunter just grins, not rising to the bait at all.
Instead, his gaze scrapes across my naked body, leaving me feeling dirty in a way Shaitan’s heat never did.
“Guess you got one last good nut in before you shuffle off, huh, devil?” Jaecar says, his attention flickering between taunting Shaitan and leering at me.
Gone is the near-gentleman who’d saved me from the Humans first, the one who’d refrained from doing anything horrible to the woman he’d rescued, even if she was both a Meta and vulnerable.
Gone, too, is the hunter who admired a female wolf-shifter. Apparently, hooking up with a demon negates all that.
I will never understand Human prejudice.
Demons are just another form of Metas. No more monstrous or evil than any of the rest of us.
I do, however, understand jealousy. And it’s steaming from Jaecar in waves.
My own gaze flicks toward Shaitan, the hunter’s words finally registering. “One last?” I echo. “Before you shuffle off? What’s he talking about, Shaitan?”
“What—the demon didn’t tell you?” Jaecar asks, his sharp smile growing wider. “You thought you were going to get to live happily ever after, together forever? Nope. You’ve been fucking a corpse, sugar. He’s dead already. That body just hasn’t caught up yet.”
Again, I glance at Shaitan out of the corner of my eye, waiting for him to deny the hunter’s claim.
When the demon remains silent, not looking at me, dread trickles down from my chest like ice into all of my limbs—freezing all those parts of me that had melted into Shaitan earlier.
Chapter 9
I stagger a few steps toward the bounty hunter on legs that will not bend properly. “What are you talking about?”
“You really don’t know, do you?” Jaecar laughs aloud.
“Stand back, Drina,” Shaitan orders.
“Not until someone tells me what’s really going on here.” By now, I’m standing almost exactly midway between the two of them.
“Your boyfriend wasn’t just fucking you for the fun of it, sweetheart. He was prepping you. Getting a brand new body ready for move-in day.” His gaze flickers back and forth between us. “That’s how it works with demons, right? You fuck them, and then you fuck them over?”
Shaitan still isn’t denying any of it.
“Is that your original body?” I ask without looking at him.
But he knows exactly who I’m talking to.
“No.” His voice is low and steady. Even.
Truthful.
“And are you—is it, that body—dying?”
“Yes.”
I’m not sure I can stand to hear more, but I keep talking.
“Is that what you meant earlier when you said you wanted my body?”
“Yes.” These blunt, direct answers are not Shaitan’s usual style. I want to run to him, shake him, demand that he tell me everything.
But I can’t. Not with Jaecar watching.
“See?” the bounty hunter jeers. “I bet he’s been up here preparing his curse spell, getting it all ready for you.”
He’s enjoying this far too much. I have to know more, anyway.
“You were going to shove me out of my body and take it over for yourself.”
“No.”
What?
I risk another glance over my shoulder to find those smoky eyes turned on me.
“Tell me,” I say, trusting him to know what I mean.
“I was going to ask if we could share.”
“Share my body? Like, both live inside it?”
“Yes.”
And I thought sex with Shaitan had been intimate.
“But he had to get your permission first, right?” Jaecar’s gloating at this point.
I stare at Shaitan, tears welling up in my eyes.
But I’ve taken my attention off of Jaecar too long for someone as fast as he is, and before I can turn back to him, he’s grabbing me from behind, holding a knife to my throat.
“I’m guessing you’ve got about one big magical shot left in you, demon,” Jaecar says. “Enough to either save the girl or put yourself into her. Not both.”
He’s right. I can see it in Shaitan’s eyes.
“I can save myself, Shaitan,” I say. “You should too.”
I hope he understands what I mean.
I might be devastated, but I wasn’t willing to let him die.
“You said you’d do anything to get away from this man,” Shaitan reminds me.
Finally, it all comes together. I couldn’t explain it logically, but it makes sense to me. I know I’m right.
Shaitan is here to save me from the bounty hunter.
Using the last of his magic will kill him.
The demon—one of those Metas largely believed to be motivated by nothing but greed—is willing to give up his own life for me.
How long had he been considering this?
Jaecar laughs again.
Gazing into my eyes almost longingly, Shaitan says, “I hope someday you can learn to love me for this. Or maybe despite it.”
Jaecar and I realize what Shaitan’s about to do at precisely the same moment, giving us just enough time to react.
At
almost the same instant, Shaitan lets loose with that magical ball of power, sending it hurtling across the room. I wrench myself away from Jaecar just as he pulls the knife from my throat and with a flick of his wrist aims it straight at Shaitan’s forehead.
Their aim couldn’t have been any more precise.
Jaecar is swallowed in a haze of crackling, yellow light. He has just enough time for one aborted scream before he collapses.
Shaitan doesn’t even have that long.
With a solid thunk, the knife buries itself to the hilt in his forehead and the demon Shaitan—or at least his latest body, his last body—crumples to the ground.
I rush to him, try to catch him, but it’s too late.
I see the moment the light leaves Shaitan’s eyes.
He’s gone.
Dead.
I sit on the floor of my tiny studio apartment, surrounded by the bodies of the two men who’ve taken up most of my attention for almost a solid year, and sob.
Chapter 10
Five minutes later, there’s a flash of light and a rumble like thunder from Jaecar’s body. It cracks through the late-hour silence of my apartment, jarring me from the stupor I’ve fallen into since Shaitan died, leaving me alone to live out the next two years.
Jaecar’s body sits up and I scream, scrabbling back toward Shaitan’s still form as if to protect it. Or maybe to have it protect me.
“Did it work?” Jaecar asks.
I’m casting about for a weapon other than my claws to protect myself when his words finally sink in, along with the fact that he’s made no moves toward me.
Confused, I raise my gaze to his.
And watch as smoke roils up in them, obscuring the blue, giving them shadows, and turning them dark.
He stretches his arms out, as if he were a man trying on a new suit.
Which, in a way, I guess he is.
“Shaitan?” I ask, my voice trembling, just to be sure.
“In the flesh,” he replies. “Well. Someone’s flesh.”
The grin is the same, too, slightly lopsided and almost a smirk.
I have to test him, though. “When was the first time we met?” I ask.
He laughs aloud. “When you were about eighteen, your father brought you with him to try to convince me to pay him to break into the President’s mansion.”
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