by Lexi Ostrow
“You are such a pretty creature to be playing with blood and death.” It trailed a hand over Odette’s check, and a fierce possession rocked through Philippe.
It’s because you’re supposed to keep her safe and sleeping with an Incubus could kill her.
The demon pressed his body against Odette’s, and it caused her gun to drop to the street. Her mouth parted into the sexiest “o” shape Philippe had ever seen. Everything in him screamed at him to shoot the Incubus and take Odette—both far from there and under him until she exploded under his touch. His vision was hazing over with lust just as Odette released a small moan so sensual sounding he stumbled in his attempt to walk closer to her.
“Such a beauty. I can imagine what you would be like. So hard and dangerous, yielding to something so soft and supple.” The demon pressed his lips to Odette’s, allowing its scent to escape further into the air around them.
Philippe watched as she sagged against the man and wrapped her wrists around his neck. That was all it took. Suddenly, the lust induced hazed lifted, and he saw red. Odette wasn’t his female to order about, his housewife, or the woman bearing his children, but she was his charge.
“Odette,” he growled the warning, and she showed no sign of hearing him. He couldn’t shoot the demon in the abdomen, so he lowered the gun and fired two shots—one to each leg. The sharp glow of green from his new gun, one that matched only Kellan’s, was hard to detect under the dark tint of his goggles.
The demon howled much like a cat whose tail had been stepped on and dropped to the ground. It wouldn’t be crawling away too quickly, so he ignored the scum for the moment. He walked next to Odette and put a gentle hand on her shoulder, ignoring how nice and warm she was to his touch.
“Odette? Female?” The words sounded harsh in his head, but he needed to maintain indifference. They were both under the Incubus’s hormones, and whilst he would be willing to break his rule of no tuppances for her, he wouldn’t do it because of a demon.
She shook her head and blinked at him a few times. The moment realization crossed over her eyes, they turned a darker shade of green. Something he’d learned in the past few weeks that he found incredibly sexy. Her lip curled, and she quickly rubbed her hand over her lips and spat on the ground. Whether she’d been aiming for the man on the ground or not, it landed on him, and Philippe did nothing to shield his amusement.
When she was done spitting and wiping her mouth, she glowered at him and spoke through clenched teeth. “Call. This. In.” She turned, walked back to the motorbike and climbed on before looking at him and the demon. “Drag him into the shadows, punch him in the temple and leave him.”
Her brutality shook him a little and excited him. She knew how to handle herself, and in the world, they lived in, that was imperative. “You heard the lady,” he said as he bent down and slammed his balled fist into the right side of the demon’s head. No comical sound came, the beast’s upper half just fell to the dirty London street.
He shrugged at her when she gave him a look because he had no idea what went on in a woman’s head. He slipped the crystal gun in his pocket, gripped the demon under the arms and held his breath. Inhaling the scent would probably have him trying to bed the disgusting creature. In the safety of the dock’s shadow, he dropped the demon and twisted the knob marked “G” on the communicator on his wrist.
“Do you have him?” The voice was gruff, and he had a feeling he’d interrupted the Incubus Demon and his mate. Too bad.
“It’s done. He touched Odette. He’s been shot in both legs and punched out. He’s under the dock next to the fish market. You’ve got hours till dawn, but I don’t know how hard I hit, as I’ve never punched a demon before.”
“Thank you. I’ll come and get him. The list of demands Felicia has for him is going to make him wish he were dead. God knows I want out right now.”
Philippe snorted at Greyston’s distress and thanked whatever God may exist that it wasn’t him mated and waiting on a babe. The sound of the motorbike starting drew his head back to Odette, and the image of her black skirt straddling the seat sucked his mind into a fantasy of her on top of him.
His whole body came to life, and he jogged back to where she sat on the bike. “I’ve called it in. We can go.” The words choked out, and he swallowed hard, trying to drive the lust away, which failed when she slid back on the tan seat to let him on in front.
They didn’t have enough of the new bikes for every hunter to have one, so many pairs didn’t take them or shared. The mental image of her body pressed against his back and her arms slowly sliding down to rub his shaft as they rode, pulled a needy moan from him.
She looked up at him, and he didn’t breathe. He could only image what he must look like, lost in his fantasy, but she didn’t try to shake him from it or urge him on the bike. All he noticed was that she was beautiful. Her long black-brown hair was tied into a braid and laying over her shoulder. Her green eyes were lust filled, and her lips were ever so wet from the creature’s kiss.
He could feel how deep he was breathing, could feel the blood flow redirecting to betwixt his legs. It had been so long since he’d kissed a woman, and she was such a beautiful, non-virtuous woman.
Philippe walked next to the motorbike but did not get on. His eyes locked onto hers, and his hands gently cupped her chin. He paused, giving her a moment to pull back, to stop what was coming. When she didn’t, he sucked in a breath.
“Forgive me, Odette.”
He lowered his mouth to hers. Their lips were the barest of touches at first. A mere slid against one another. His tongue gently traced over the seam of her lips, and like a treasure chest, Odette opened for him. Their tongues glided together in a slow exploratory kiss as if they’d been meant to be or had been doing this their whole lives.
He wanted to pluck her off the bike and press her against him, but when he moved forward, his knee bashed into the metal. He pulled back from the kiss and opened his eyes with a curse, “Baise!” Philippe felt more than saw the bike start to tip sideways. He barely reacted fast enough to pull her off as it clanged into the ground. Half past eleven or not, a sound like that would gain some notice, even at the docks. Notice they could not afford, as they had no men or women, inside the Royal Police, save for Greyston.
The key fell out on impact, which removed the connection from cog to cog, killing the steam and no longer heating the crystal.
His hands remained clamped around Odette’s shoulders longer than they should have. Her eyes met his, and the lust he saw flickered out. Hatred and disgust appeared in the dark green swirls of her eyes—that hadn’t happened after kissing the demon. The insult stung. It stung more than the paltry slap as her hand landed across his check for the second time.
She went to strike again, but he easily caught her hand in his own. “I’m not going to act like I don’t deserve that, and I’m not going to pretend it was entirely the working of the Incubus Demon. I am going to point out that you didn’t stop me, and we need to get out of here. So if you could wait to strike me again until we are back at the guild that would be wonderful.”
Her face twisted in anger, and he brushed past her and picked the bike up and skeleton key. He climbed on first and turned back to look at her. She slowly got on, barely touching him to hold on.
Her problem, not mine.
He inserted the key in, and the bike grumbled as it started up. They were faster, but he almost wished Eliza had figured out quieter, not speedier. “Female if you don’t apply a little pressure with that hold, you are going to fall arse over tit, and I might not stop to get you.”
“Really, you could pretend to speak to me like a lady after you had your hands on me and your tongue in my mouth.”
“And you could pretend you are a woman and not speak about things like that or engage in deep kisses in the dark streets of night.” He didn’t wait to hear what she would have responded with, just twisted the handle to create more steam and pulled his feet up, sending the
bike on the path back to the guild and killing any further conversation.
She could feel the tingle on her lips, no matter how hard the night air whipped against her face. Her hands twitched to wrap just a little tighter around the man in front of her and lean her chin on his shoulder, which was precisely why she wouldn’t. She and Shawn hadn’t had the most fairy tale life. They’d frequently fought over her work, but they had loved each other, and he had died because of her. Kissing Philippe was a betrayal to his memory—because she’d enjoyed it.
Odette had relished every intimate second when their lips had been pressed together. The Incubus may have gotten the better of her, but she’d been staring at Philippe for a week and desiring him. They only spent as much time together as they had too, both at least putting up pretense that they were still annoyed at the concept of being forced together. However, she wasn’t certain either of them actually was.
She’d moved passed annoyance on their first hunt together. When he’d been explaining the new workings of the guild and the Alliance, she had found him pompous, irritating and generally a louse. Then they had gone to help take care of a Thrasher spotted twenty minutes outside the city. Thrashers were by far the most dangerous she had ever experienced, and as they’d ridden out on the shared motorbike, her fears had multiplied infinitely.
He’d noticed the minute they’d arrived at the coordinates and found Kellan and Lucius already there. Rather than mock her, as he had when she’d complained about something prior, he had taken her to the side. He reminded her that she was a hunter and they were all afraid of something. It wasn’t even the same species that had killed her family. The attack that had killed them had made her stronger than if she’d not gone through it. He’d explained that their fears helped them develop their strengths. His words had been enough for her to push on.
Whilst it had taken three of them to distract what had turned out to be eight Thrashers, so Lucius could hunt them in his own way, her feelings for Philippe had changed. He was still pompous and egotistical. However, after seeing him in action, she had realized he had every reason to be. He was as much of a beast in action as a human could be. He was lethal and thoughtful in his execution, but more importantly, he had protected her without shoving her into the background. He had let her be a hunter whilst still very obviously controlling her closeness to the pack of Thrashers.
Ever since then, she’d looked at him differently. The way he cooked a meal, the way he looked when he said goodbye as he dropped her off every night; they all added up differently than they had before. She’d found herself desiring more time with him instead of less. Every spare moment she had was spent fantasizing about ways she could create moments together.
When he had kissed her, she had let him. She had betrayed Shawn, betrayed her children, but she hadn’t stopped the kiss, and wouldn’t have if they had not knocked the bike over.
She sighed deeply and closed her eyes, trying to imagine she was anywhere else but touching Philippe after a kiss that had rocked her to her core. She had not a clue as to her surroundings. It didn’t unsettle her, though, she trusted Philippe. Trusted him enough to save her if something went wrong. Suddenly, a shadow cast over her, making things much darker and the bike came to a stop. She opened one eye and then the other. They had returned to the guild and were in the underground tunnel where the bikes were parked.
Abruptly, she jerked her hands away from his body, and the momentum shoved her sideways off the seat. “Oomph.” The air rushed out of her lungs as pain tore through her from her backside. “Damnit!”
Philippe raised a brow at her and extended his hand down to help her up. “That was very American of you.”
She could see the smile playing at the corner of his lips and was torn betwixt slapping him again or leaning up and kissing him again. Both had brought her pleasure out on the street prior.
“Yes, and you sound terribly British for a Frenchman.” She ignored his hand and pushed off the ground, disregarding the sting of pain as she stood.
“Mon Dieu! You are so difficult sometimes,” he growled and stalked after her. His hand wrapped around her wrist to stop her, and her pulse spiked at the contact.
“Well, I am a woman.” She forced herself to wink at him and used her left hand to peel his right from her wrist. “I want to go to the lab and see what they are doing. It’s barely past one, and you know father detests the idea of me being alone even for a second.”
He laughed and opened the gate to the lower level of the building where her father’s office and the labs were. “Yes, well having spent time with you, I can understand his hesitation. You seem to put the clumsy into the idea of the word.”
He grinned as she walked by, and she couldn’t stop the laughter that bubbled up despite her ire with him. He was correct. She could walk into a wall if she wasn’t paying attention. It had always been her weakest attribute, one that worried her father and Shawn when she would hunt. Until that moment, Philippe rarely commented on it. She pulled on the bun atop her head and let her black hair spill over her shoulders.
“Yes, well, as a woman, I have other skills that make up for my lack of balance and poise.” She tilted her head and smiled at him. The banter betwixt them needed to stop if she didn’t want to wind up back in his arms, but she enjoyed the playful rowing It made her feel as if her life could possibly shift back towards a normal state of being.
They walked by her father’s door, and she noticed a small blonde female sitting in his office, a look of hurt on her face. There were so few women who dealt with the Guildmaster that Odette couldn’t help but wonder how many women were a part of the Alliance. She’d only met the active hunters, and she knew there were always plenty in the training grounds earning their way to protect the city. She had never met any of the inventors, save for Eliza years before, so that was the real reason for the trip to the labs.
She didn’t have the head for the metaphysical. She’d much prefer considering it witchcraft, rather than admit she didn’t understand. Her father had been a master at the guild before the Alliance of Silver and Steam was born, so she was gifted with creating clockwork, but creating something that worked with the crystals would never happen.
“It is hotter and hotter down here every time.” She turned to look back at Philippe and saw him tugging on the cravat he wore. He always dressed to perfection to hunt, and she didn’t understand why he held himself to such high standards when doing such dirty tasks. Lucius did as well, and she wondered if they knew that they held one other thing in common.
“Perhaps you should consider losing some of the layers then,” she teased, but felt a bead of sweat drip betwixt her cleavage, and she rolled her shoulders to try to get some air to pass over her corseted body.
The closer they came to the labs, the hotter it became. The crystals were used in conjunction with steam most times, and that made things ghastly. Not to mention the hallway narrowed significantly, a security measure to keep people from thinking anything important lay beyond the staircase that led to her father’s quarters. She stopped at the imposing black door that was hidden behind a coated metal gate. She wasn’t certain what the coating was, just that they had ground up crystals to do it so that if a demon breached the area, it would go off.
She reached out to knock and cocked her head to the side. “If this is meant to alert the system when a demon comes by—”
“It sounds like a fucking attack every time Lucius tries to see his mate. Why they don’t ban his arse from entrance is something I’ve been asking for months.”
She laughed and nodded as she knocked. The loud sound echoed around them in the tight concrete hall. Moments passed, but no one came out. “That’s odd.”
“Not terribly. When they’re working with something fragile or secretive, they will lock themselves in for days at a time. I know it’s early, but what if I took you home? We don’t have to let your father know I left you alone. You are an adult and a skilled fighter, nothing will attack yo
u at his home, or he would have moved someplace more secure. If you were attacked in Baltimore, there is little chance you are a target here.”
She frowned. Was Philippe busy that he wanted to be rid of her? He’d told her he didn’t drink, so that could have left a woman, but he’d kissed her earlier. It hadn’t been just the Incubus’s influence either. He’d admitted as much.
She did her best to sound pleasant. “I can handle that. I can fix you a cup of tea before you leave as well.”
“It’s settled then. Let’s get the carriage ready and get you safely tucked into bed.”
He smirked, and they walked back to the staircase, her mind reeling with the unspoken question as to why he was taking take her home sooner.
The street outside the guild was uncharacteristically busy as they waited for the carriage. It was late enough that respectable people were tucked away with their families. Not that the industrial locals around the guild halls were the most reputable in the city.
It seemed much warmer out once they weren’t buzzing around on the back of the bike. Odette couldn’t stop herself as she slid her gaze to the left and looked at Philippe. His log hair was unwrapped from the leather strap it was typically fastened with, and she wanted to run her fingers through it and see if it was soft. She clenched her fingers to try to push the thought back.
You can’t because you were so close to the Incubus. It won’t be this hard tomorrow.
She was still staring at him when she heard a shout from the side of the guild that shared a fence with the textiles and tapestry guild. She and Philippe exchange a look, and both were grabbing their daggers immediately. Crystal guns were left at the guild storage upon leaving for the day, and that meant all they had was the sharp tipped blades.
Philippe held his hand out to stop her and put a finger to his lips. She wanted to smack him for thinking he needed to tell her to be cautious. He tipped his wrist, so his hand was upright and put up a finger, then another. When he put his next finger up, they both raced around the corner in the direction of the shout.