by Lexi Ostrow
They dressed quickly and forwent the lift for the stairs to the upper level. Odette was racing so swiftly, he never thought he would catch up to her. She flung the door open and ran into the small corridor, just as he was reaching the top step. Her squeal of delight told him what room to walk into.
Felicia sat up on the bed, propped against the wall. A somewhat ugly bundle rested in her arms. Greyston stood just to the left, wearing one of the biggest grins Philippe had ever seen on any person—human or demon. He was still getting used to full demons displaying human emotions, but the moment was the most beautiful one he had ever seen.
They weren’t human and demons in the room. They were a group of people celebrating the miracle of life. The child could very well be the beacon of hope to drive the humans and lesser demons to fight side by side against Seraphina. The little boy in Felicia’s arms seemed large for a baby and wrinkles covered every inch of him. Philippe could just barely make out the green rims in his eyes. His father’s eyes.
“He’s adorable.” Odette seemed in awe of the little one. She reached her index finger out, and the baby latched onto it and cooed.
Odette smiled so wide, he thought her face would break.
“What are you calling him?” she asked as she bounced the finger that the baby held, smiling at him.
“That’s why we wanted you here. Odette, you were always a sister to me, and Agardawes was my father as much yours. I would like your permission to call him Thomas,” Felicia’s voice held a mixture of hope and caution.
Odette let out a strangled cry, and Philippe saw tears come down her cheeks. He walked over to her and put his hand around her, not certain what she would do next.
Her lip quivered, and she chewed it to try to stop it “I would be honored. Absolutely honored. May I hold him?”
He sighed in relief that it hadn’t led to a break in her demeanor and watched as Felicia passed little Thomas over to Odette. She rocked him as if she’d been doing it all her life, and for the first time, Philippe wanted children of his own. He wanted to put a smile like that on Odette’s face and give her a second chance at a full life.
Thomas stretched a hand up to him, and he was in awe. He copied what Odette had done and gave his index finger, which the baby promptly tried to touch. “Welcome to the world, little Thomas. Welcome to the world.”
Seraphina grinned at the man chained to the wall. He was handsome by human standards. Broad shoulders, a thick head of red hair, lighter than her own, but becoming on him. His dark brown eyes seemed to call out to her, and she couldn’t look away once she had started. It should be the opposite. She had swept her hair to the side with hot rods, and it curled beautifully down to her waist. Her silken body-contouring gown shifted against her figure with every step she took. Seduction would take his guard even lower, and Angels were of course made for seduction.
She walked into the cell and over to where he was chained to the wall. Her eyes trailed up his body, and a surge of want blossomed. She shuddered in disgust as her body betrayed her by lusting after a human.
She ran her finger over the seam in his lips and laughed when he tried to bite her. “When Muriel told me she had lost Odette, Philippe and Rafe, I had been quite irate. So enraged, I think she will be healing for quite some time. In truth, it’s why I have not been to see you yet. I was attending to her punishment.” She couldn’t look away from him still, and the feeling unnerved her.
“I won’t tell you anything. You’ll have to kill me first.” He spat at her. For some reason, his British accent was stilted, almost as if it was not his natural voice.
“I have ways to extract the information.” She pulled the dagger out from behind her back. “I also have ways of making you willingly give me what I want.” She dragged the tip of the blade slowly down her forearm drawing the thinnest trail of blood she could manage.
Recognition flashed in the depths of his eyes, and the change in emotion, the stark fear, helped her snap her own gaze off him.
“No.”
The word lacked conviction, but she was impressed he was trying to fight the glamoring effect. “Tell me, what is your name?”
He glowered at her, and she laughed.
“I somehow thought you wouldn’t tell me. No matter, Muriel overheard the others call you Kellan.” She took a step closer to him and put her arm up to his mouth, mere millimeters away. “It’s my pleasure to meet you, Kellan. Now drink.”
She shuddered as his tongue flicked out over her wrist. Her smile widened and grew cold. With every slide of his tongue over her blood, Kellan the hunter was falling further and further into an addiction that would kill him, someday when she was done with him.
Preview of Sirens in Steam
Read on for a sneak peak at Sirens in Steam (Alliance of Silver and Steam Book 3) coming July 10th, 2015)
A trail of blood slid down Seraphina’s arm, and a shiver raced through her body. It wasn’t the blood that made her shiver; it was the look on Kellan’s face. His pale green eyes had followed the subtle drip of blood all the way down to her fingertips with a look of pure and unabashed hunger.
Addicting a human to Fallen blood was always risky. They could go crazy and kill themselves seeking it out. Kellan had drunk hers almost daily for two months. After all that time, he had finally begun to drink it without her hand forcing his head to wherever she had sliced herself.
The warm flick of his tongue over her collarbone as he helped himself to her blood twisted her stomach into knots. Every day she fed, so that she could turn around and sever the feedings in a short whilst to interrogate him. Yet, every day she told herself she would tempt him with her blood just one more day.
The hunters had at least one Pure Angel on their side, which meant they knew there were still entrances to Hell open. It was only a matter of time before they would come after their brethren. That was something she’d had a chance to study when they’d ventured into Hell to save the female, Odette. They were devoutly loyal to one another, and that meant that torture had to progress at a certain pace, or she would be looking at a group of the bastards in her home once more.
A place that humans did not belong, her home. Hell. The demons’ realm. Whatever it was called, it had no religious connotation and certainly no room for humans as they had no place for demons up above.
She didn’t want to admit that she enjoyed such a strong and powerful male hungering after her. Didn’t want to admit that she’d contemplated making him into her own little slave, instead of interrogating and then killing him. Because that would mean she’d have to admit she liked the attention of a human, and she would never do that.
Her eyelids grew heavy, and she startled, realizing how long he’d been licking at her neck and how much she’d been enjoying it. In an instant, she flashed away from him and across his cell, careful not to step in the dried blood from when their time together had begun.