by Tessa Blake
“It’s the exact right way to phrase the question,” she shot back. “If I’m gonna be inside an episode of Supernatural or whatever, fine. I can live with that. What I can’t live with is not knowing, being ignorant. I want you to tell me the truth, now.”
“You don’t know what you’re asking.”
“I do,” she said. “And I’m telling you, if you don’t answer me now, I’m walking out of here and never coming back. Someone will wire me plane fare.”
“Lily—”
“Stop it.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Whatever instinct you have to lie to me right now, to tell me some story—get over it. I know something is going on, something that most people would say is crazy, and impossible, and straight out of a movie. And I’m telling you I’m ready to believe you … and more than that, I won’t believe you if you try to put me off with some excuse. I know what I saw, Gabriel. What are you?”
He sighed, and he finally met her eyes. “You don’t know the word for what I am.”
“Try me.”
“The technical term is cambion.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Does that mean anything to you?”
Deflated, but only slightly, she shook her head. “Okay, no, I don’t know that word. What does it mean?”
“It means one of my parents—my mother, in this case—is a demon.”
She swallowed, her throat suddenly very dry. “A … demon.”
He nodded. “You said you wanted the truth.”
“I did,” she said. “I do. What about your father?”
“A human,” he said tersely. “I don’t know why my mother chose him, and I don’t know why she chose to leave me to be raised by him. My mother doesn’t talk about things she doesn’t choose to talk about. What I do know is, she came back for me a year ago and told me what I was, and what I could do.”
“Which would be?”
“You saw what happened in that parking garage. I’m strong.”
“And?”
“And a host of other things.”
“What other things? Can you read my mind?” She wasn’t sure why this was the first and most pressing thing that occurred to her, but she was quite sure she’d die of embarrassment if the answer was yes.
Though what difference did it make when all he had to do was ask her a question anyway?
“I can’t read minds, no,” he said, and she was more than a little annoyed to see he looked amused.
“Promise?”
“I swear.”
“Then how did you find me?”
“I—” He faltered. “I’m actually not allowed to tell you.”
“Not allowed?”
“That’s what I said. And if you leave it alone and don’t badger me about it, I promise I won’t yell at you for leaving your phone behind when you went out to wander around an unfamiliar city.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out her phone, handed it to her. “I texted you after you left, and I just about had a heart attack when it went off in your room.”
She said nothing. It had been a stupid and thoughtless thing to do.
He waited a second, nodded when she remained silent. “But I can assure you, my abilities do not include mind-reading.”
“Then what do they include?”
“I’ve hardly got the time or the inclination to sit here and catalogue every inhuman ability that comes with my heritage. And, honestly? There may be some I don’t know. It’s not entirely normal for someone like my mother to procreate.”
“What is your mother?”
He looked away again. “My mother?”
“Yes, your mother,” she snapped, wracking her brain for Sunday school tidbits and coming up pretty blank. “You said she’s a demon. What kind of a demon? Are there even different kinds? Different levels?”
“You don’t ask much, do you?” It wasn’t a question, the way he said it. “Yes, there are different types.”
“What is your mother?”
“What makes you think you’ll know that any better than cambion?”
His very unwillingness to answer told Lily she very much needed to know. She repeated the question a third time. “What is your mother?”
Gabriel sighed. “She’s a succubus.”
Lily went icy cold, then flushed. “I live in the world, you know. I’m not an idiot. Of course I know what that is.”
“What is it, then?” he challenged.
“It’s….” She floundered a bit, then recovered. “It’s a sex demon. Like, a temptress.”
“That’s simplistic.”
“They make people desperate to have sex with them.” She could tell from the heat of her face that she was beet red right to the roots of her hair, but she refused to back down. “They give off some kind of … sex vibe. And people just fall all over them.”
“I suppose that’s a workable description—” he began.
“Workable, my ass!” She clenched her fists. “You’ve got it, too.”
“Some of it,” he conceded. “Notably, I have … persuasive abilities.” He smiled a little. “I suppose I could have made those guys leave, rather than tossing them around like that.”
“Persuasive abilities?”
“Yes,” he said. “I can … make people do things. If I concentrate, if they’re not naturally resistant. There are people who are. There are some ifs. Nothing is foolproof.” He grinned again, a little feral this time. “And I wasn’t really in the mood to reason with them anyway. I was in the mood to break bones.”
She shuddered, but forced her thoughts away from it. They’d got what was coming to them. She wasn’t going to be squeamish about it; she knew what they’d had in mind for her.
What mattered right now what that he’d been fucking with her head.
“And what else do you get from your mother?” She moved in close to him, which was actually a mistake, because as soon as she did a little jolt of something very like electricity tingled along her nerve endings. She stepped back. “What about the sex demon stuff?”
“I have some of that, yes.”
“Yeah,” she said, furious. “Some of that. You’ve got a lot of that, and you used it on me.”
“No—”
“Yes!” She took two more careful steps back. “You’ve got some kind of thing that makes girls….”
“Makes girls what, Lily?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Makes girls behave in ways they usually wouldn’t, and get fired from their very nice jobs for immoral behavior?”
“That’s not what—”
“Miri was right.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “You sat there and looked at me like I was crazy for suggesting you slipped something in my drink, and you knew the whole time that you basically just roofied me with your mind. It’s the same thing!”
“This is ridiculous.” He stalked over and took her by the shoulders. “That first night isn’t relevant, and I told you the truth about that day in the light booth. I wanted you; you wanted me, too. That’s as simple as it gets.”
“I didn’t have any choice.” The fact that she was leaning into his chest rather than pulling away did not escape her, but there didn’t seem to be a whole lot she could do about it. “You’re doing it now.”
“It’s not like that,” he said. “I’m not doing anything.”
“Yes, you are,” she said, weakly. “You touch me and … I can’t think. I don’t like it. I don’t like what you’re doing.”
“I’m not doing anything,” he repeated. “I can— I have, before, even with you. That first night, when I took your hand, I made you dance with me.”
“So you admit it?”
“No, what I’m saying is, since then? I haven’t forced a single thing on you.” He ran his hands down her arms, raising gooseflesh there, and it was all she could do to even listen to what he was saying. “And even that night, let’s not forget, you walked away. I didn’t know that could be done, and you did it. You’re the only woman who ever has.”
�
��Fat lot of good it does me, when I just keep coming back,” she said. “That has to be coming from you. Why would I keep doing something if I didn’t want to?”
“What if you do want to?” he asked. “Can’t it be just that simple?”
“How can I know? The minute you’re in the room, I just … fuzz up.”
“I don’t have all the answers. Maybe there’s a certain element of it that just happens, because of what I am.” He shrugged a little. “I can’t help being what I am, any more than I can help wanting you.”
“But why do I want you, too, so much?” she asked.
“Is it really too much to imagine it might just be because you do?”
“I’ve never felt like this before, not with anyone. And it gets a hundred times worse if you touch me.” She shook her head again, wished she had the strength to shove him away. “It’s not normal. It’s because of what you are.”
He sighed. “Then I suppose it is. But if being what I am, and wanting you, makes you want me, too … what am I supposed to do about it? Cease to be?”
“So because you want me, I don’t get a say?” she protested. “Do you not even see how dicey that is, for you to take away my right to decide like that?”
And just like that, he wasn’t touching her anymore.
17
Gabriel took both his hands off her, very deliberately, and stepped all the way to the other side of the sitting area. “Of what, exactly, are you accusing me?” he said, his voice very cold.
“No,” she said. “I don’t mean—”
“You are making a comparison I would ask you to evaluate very carefully,” he said, and it was evident from the cadence of his speech that he was choosing his words very precisely. “We were both there in that parking garage an hour ago. Are you seriously trying to draw a parallel between that situation and this?”
She shook her head. “No.”
“Then what?”
“I just mean….” What did she mean? “I just mean— I want to know I can choose. I don’t want you using your mojo on me.”
He sighed again, shook his head. “My mojo, as you call it, doesn’t have an off switch.”
“Have you tried?”
“I’ve had no reason to try,” he said, sounding pretty pissed off. “You’re the first to complain, that’s for sure.”
“And that’s another thing,” she said. “I don’t like the idea that if I did get involved with you, every woman in the five boroughs is going to be tossing herself at you.”
“I don’t want any other woman in the five boroughs,” he said, “or anywhere else, for that matter. I’m tired of women tossing themselves at me. It’s boring.”
“You said that,” she said. “The first night in Abaddon, you said that to the bartender.”
He leaned his hip against the nearest wingback chair, looked down at his hands for moment. “The thing you have to understand, Lily, is women have always thrown themselves at me, for as long as I’ve been aware of women. I thought it was because of something I did—because I was smart, or because I lettered in track—”
“Didn’t they notice you could run faster than everyone else in the world, or were stronger, or whatever?”
He shook his head. “For whatever reason, those things didn’t manifest until Vivienne showed up and told me what I am. But the appeal to women was always there. At the time, I thought it was something I’d done. Or hell, maybe just because I was good-looking.”
“Being good-looking isn’t something you do,” she said. “Even in … mere mortals, that’s genetics.”
“Maybe, but I could have eaten a lot more pizza and done a lot less exercise. And I went to school with plenty of guys who washed their hair once a week whether—”
“—they needed it or not,” she finished, and smiled shyly. “My dad used to say that. Okay, so you were a hottie and you loved it when the chicks were all nuts about you. This isn’t exactly reassuring.”
He shook his head. “My point is, I thought I’d earned the attention, that I was something special. And then Vivienne turned up, a year and a half ago now, and she told me what I really am. And I realized I hadn’t earned a damn thing. None of those women liked me because of me or because of anything I’d done. It was a cheat and a lie, and I didn’t want any part of it.”
He looked so utterly miserable she would have gone to him then, if he’d held out a hand. But he didn’t, and she hesitated until the moment was lost.
“And then I saw you, at the club,” he said, “and I didn’t want to look at anything else. And when we danced … the feel of you, the smell of you. I wanted you, and you didn’t want me back. You can’t know—you can’t even imagine—what that felt like. You can’t imagine what it is to know you can say no to me … and what it will mean to me if you don’t.”
“Gabriel—”
“I don’t know what’s going on. I don’t understand it because I’ve never felt it before. But I want to be with you. I haven’t wanted anyone for a long time, and maybe that’s what you feel. Maybe that’s why you can’t help yourself with me: because I can’t help myself with you.”
“Couldn’t you just … tone it down a little?” She was trying to be gentle, because that look in his eyes when he’d let go of her hadn’t been just anger. “The mojo?”
“There’s no dimmer switch either, Lily.” He spread his arms. “You’re welcome to look for one.”
A delicious thought, to be sure, but she shook her head. “I don’t know how to know what I really want.”
“Then I suppose we’re at an impasse,” he said, and looked away. “I am what I am, and I can’t be otherwise. I’m not going to stand here and beg you, or tell you I can be something I’m not.”
“I’m not asking—”
“But you are. And I can’t.” He shook his head. “You know what I want. I haven’t held back with you on that, and I’ve had to swallow my pride more than a little to say the things I’ve said to you. Now you need to decide what you want.”
And he turned and crossed the suite to the master bedroom, shutting the door very quietly behind him. A moment later, she heard glass shattering on the other side. She winced and sat heavily on the sofa.
Now you’ve done it.
He might not be human, but she’d been getting a sense of him these last few days. She’d recognized the look on his face—how often had she seen it on someone’s face when she said some stupid, thoughtless thing? Which was precisely what she’d just done. He’d saved her life, and she’d repaid him for it by basically calling him a rapist.
On the other hand, as soon as he’d backed away from her, her thoughts had gotten less fuzzy. Whether he meant to or not—and she guessed she’d assume he was telling the truth about it, because obviously he didn’t need to lie to get what he wanted out of her—he sapped her will to resist him, just by touching her.
On the other hand … he wasn’t touching her now, and she still wanted to follow him into that room, take what she knew he could give her. He could have anyone; that much was clear. And he wanted her. Was she going to deny him—and herself—to prove a point? Was she resisting him just because she could?
On the other hand….
No. She was out of hands.
She shook her head, mad at herself. Something amazing was happening to her. Someone amazing had come into her life and wanted her, and she wanted him just as much. And, sure, the otherworldly part of it was mind-blowing and too much to comprehend, really—but the single most basic fact of the thing was the man in the next room wanted to be hers, wanted her to be his. Made her feel alive. Had saved her life.
He wasn’t human.
But he was human enough to want someone to like him for himself.
He was human enough to have hurt feelings when she insulted him.
He was human enough to wrap a two-thousand-dollar coat around a woman some people would have said wasn’t worth the cost of dry cleaning it.
Gabriel was right. It came down
to the simplest of questions: What did she want?
She stood, crossed the suite, knocked on his door.
It opened. He stood in the doorway, looking at her with the oddest, softest expression on his face.
“Did it ever occur to you,” she asked, “that if the superhuman strength and whatnot didn’t show up until your mother did, maybe all those girls in high school really did like you for you?”
He just looked at her for a moment.
“Maybe it wasn’t a cheat and a lie,” she said. “Maybe it was because you were nice, or handsome, or whatever.”
He shrugged a little, but she thought a little of the hurt left his eyes.
“Maybe,” he said. “I suppose it doesn’t matter in the long run. I am what I am now, and I don’t want any part of coercing women into wanting me.” His gaze held hers. “You have to choose. I can’t—won’t—choose for you.”
She nodded. “If we start sleeping together,” she said, slowly, “it’s going to be really, really amazing, isn’t it?”
He smiled, slowly, and it felt like all the blood drained from her brain and relocated a couple of feet south. “Yes,” he said, and held out his hand.
She took it.
18
Later—much later—Lily sprawled contentedly across his chest, her hair plastered to her sweaty neck.
“Gabriel?” she managed, wondering when the room would stop spinning.
“Mmph?” he said, eloquently.
“I’m not sure I still have any toes.”
He shifted so he could peer down. “I can’t swear to it. Why the doubt?”
“I haven’t felt them in a while,” she said, giggling.
He used his finger to tilt her chin up, then captured her mouth in a scorching kiss which did absolutely nothing to give her any confidence she might still have toes. She wasn’t actually one hundred percent certain about anything below the knees.
“Let’s have a look, then,” he said, and rolled the two of them over so he was on top.
It took a while for him to get down to toe level, as he stopped at every sensitive spot on the way to experiment with his teeth and tongue. She batted at him the first couple of times he stopped, behind the ears and along the ridge of her collarbone, but was too weak to be very effective. Eventually, he made it to her knees, tasted the ticklish skin behind each of them, then pinched each of her big toes.