by Michele Hauf
Jett sat on the couch, stretching her legs before her as she sat sideways. Her arms on her knees and chin resting on one forearm, her hair spilled...not so far as usual.
“You cut your hair?”
“Needed a change. You like it?”
“I do. But it doesn’t matter what I think about your appearance. That’s all for you.”
“Is it? You don’t care if I’m a mess or a glamour doll? What if I didn’t comb my hair for a week?”
“I’d still find you attractive.”
Her lip wobbled. “You find me attractive? Even knowing...?”
“Even knowing.” Though truthfully, a part of him still couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact that his girlfriend was part demon. “I’m sorry you feel that you have to hide your true self from me, Jett. I wouldn’t be upset if you wanted to drop your sheen more often.”
“But it’s what you work against. Things like me.”
He sat on the sofa and lifted her head by her chin. Her brown eyes were glossy. “You are not a thing. You did what you had to do to survive. I know that.”
“Oh, Savin, I need your trust so much right now.”
“You have it.”
She moved onto her knees and glided to him, pressed her hands to his cheeks and kissed him. He didn’t protest, because he didn’t want to. He wasn’t going to allow his brain to process the fact that he was making out with a woman who was also part demon.
Sliding a hand up Jett’s hip, he slipped it under her shirt and groaned as her incredible warmth seemed to heat him to the boiling point. Her body hugged his and made everything on him instantly hard. She’d never been kissed before he had kissed her? Hard to believe. Or maybe he was that good a teacher. Heh.
Jett made quick work of removing his shirt, though it got hung up on his biceps. “How do you get such hard, big muscles from reckoning demons?” she asked.
“Reckoning requires a strong body, so I lift weights. Whew! But I am tired out from this evening’s work. CJ and I managed to extinguish a few dozen incoming demons.”
“Extinguish? I thought when you reckoned them you merely sent them back to Daemonia. Do you kill them?”
“I said that wrong. Well, yes and no. CJ and I combined our forces and—yes, it kind of worked like a bug zapper to the incoming. But no, I don’t generally kill them. Reckoning sends them back, all in one piece.”
He winced. Why did he feel as if he were reassuring her of something that could happen to her in the future?
“I see. You said you’re tired?” She kissed his forehead. “Then let me do all the work. You sit back...” Her fingers danced down his abs and unbuttoned his fly. “And let me take care of you, lover.”
Not a single protest came to mind. Savin lifted his hips as she unzipped him and pulled down his jeans. Felt great to let his shaft out of its confinement and... Yes... The woman curled her fingers into a nice, firm grip.
Jett dragged her fingertips over her tongue and winked at him, then placed her wet, hot fingers around him and began to work him up and down. Slow, and then faster. And then so slow he wanted to grip her hand and make her go faster. But... No, that was good. The tension she used was just right. Then she torqued her grip to the left and then...
Savin tilted his head back against the couch and groaned deep from his chest. Not a thing wrong with this situation. And when he felt her lips on the swollen crown of his cock, he nearly lost it. It was only when she tongued him that he had to grip at her hair and the couch and began to shudder as orgasm dashed up on him much quicker than expected.
The door buzzer rang and Savin shouted as he came, then swore because he was in no condition to answer the door. Damn, the woman had hit him hard and fast.
Jett stood. “Food is here. You want me to answer?”
Lost in some kind of wild and delicious high, he was capable of reaching into his back pocket to pull out his wallet. “Credit card is in there.”
She took it and approached the door. “Wards?”
Breathing out a few exhales, Savin stood and pulled up his jeans. “I got this.” She handed him his wallet, then cupped his cock through the jeans. “Mercy, Jett.”
“I did okay, then?”
“Okay?” He grabbed the doorknob. “I don’t think there’s a rating high enough for that performance.”
She mocked a bow and then climbed onto a stool before the counter.
He winked at her but opened the door and took the delivery from the man, promising him the usual tip. Closing the door, he joined Jett at the counter.
“Ribs?” she guessed.
“There’s a place that makes them like I remember my dad used to cook on the grill. Whew!” He shook out his hands and then found his place. Segueing from the high of orgasm to answering the door was weird as shit. “Okay, I’m cool.”
“You’re not, really. And I’m happy for that. Your cock is so big. I like it.” She winked.
And he would be hard again in no time.
Jett took a tin container and peeled off the foil cover. “I remember eating at your house. Often. Your parents were so good to me.”
“We had good times when we were kids.” He set plates and forks out and joined Jett on the next stool.
“We can have good times as adults.”
“I thought we already were.”
She kissed him and handed him a sauce-laden rib. “That we are.”
Chapter 19
Jett licked her fingers and then stuffed the empty food containers in the garbage bin. Savin had wandered into the bathroom for a thorough wash. He’d eaten all but one of the ribs. For some reason the meat hadn’t appealed to her. But she’d eaten the Gouda potatoes after testing them to be sure they hadn’t been salted.
Demons and salt. Gave her a shudder. Though she was half demon, so she couldn’t know how some things would affect her here in the mortal realm. Like knowing that her eyes could give off a red glow, even when sheened. Or that if she wasn’t careful with her sheen, her skin might darken and look ashy. Gray ashy, not a normal skin tone. And oh, if she let even a portion of her horns out. On the other hand, it could be considered by some as body modification. Humans did a lot of weird stuff to alter their appearances nowadays.
It was late, nearing midnight, but the day had been good. Because even after almost catching her without a sheen, Savin still had wanted to have sex with her. The man desired her. And he did care about her. She felt that.
“There’s a few things I need to tell you,” he said as he wandered back into the living room.
The man was a walking advertisement for sex. Those jeans hanging low on his hips revealed all the many tight, hard muscles on his abdomen and chest. His arms were solid and big. And that tousled hair gave him a wild, virile look that made Jett weak in the knees. She wanted more of him. Inside her, filling her, tasting her and owning her.
Never had she had such a thought about a lover while in Daemonia. She had not considered them lovers, actually. Merely things to entertain her. Things she had not allowed to kiss her. She was glad for that caution now.
Refilling her whiskey glass, and one for Savin, Jett walked over to the couch, handing him the glass as they both sat. He downed the two fingers of whiskey, got up and retrieved the full bottle.
“Might need this,” he said.
“Is what you have to tell me that terrible?”
“I, uh... I’m not sure. I’ll start with the maybe-good thing first.”
“Okay. But first.” Jett held up a finger to pause him while she downed the swallow of whiskey. With an exhale, she held up her glass for him to refill it. “Okay, go.”
“My mom is on Facebook,” he started.
“A book of faces?”
“Huh? Oh. Right. The internet has really exploded and become this sort of social hangout since you’ve been gone. Th
ere’s a thing called Facebook and everyone is on it. You can post about your life and see what other people are doing.”
“Like a means to spy on them?”
“No. Well. Maybe.” He gave it some consideration. “Normal people use it to stay in touch with friends and relatives. I’m sure there are creeps who use it for nefarious means. Anyway, my mom, after I’d talked to her about your parents, decided to try to contact your mother on Facebook. And...she did.”
Jett clutched the glass to her chest. “Where is she? How is she? Did she ask about me?”
“My mom didn’t know what to say about you, so she didn’t mention your return. We both feel it’s up to you how, or if, you want to make contact with Josette. Apparently, she’s living in the Bahamas.”
A much-admired vacation spot. Jett recalled her mother cutting pictures of the island from magazines and pasting them in her dream scrapbook. The memory loosened a tear at the corner of her eye, so she quickly swiped it away.
“How is that possible?” she asked. “How could your mother have learned these things about my mom without actually talking to her?”
“Through the internet. It’s like email, but Facebook messaging is instant. What matters is that Josette wrote back to my mother that she was in a good place and didn’t foresee coming back to Paris. That was all the contact my mom had with her. But she has Josette’s Facebook information if you want to contact her.”
“I do. I mean...” Jett sucked in the corner of her lip.
What did she want to do? Her mother was alive, and apparently well. Living in her dream getaway. That was good to know. She must want to know about her daughter. Yet Jett had been gone for twenty years. Had her mother believed she was dead all that time? How would it impact her to know she was still alive?
And no longer completely human.
“Right.” Jett tilted back the rest of the whiskey. “I have to think about that one.”
“She’s as close as a computer message,” Savin said. “But I’m sure you’ll want to weigh the pros and cons about contacting her.”
Jett took the bottle from him and poured herself more. “Do you think I should contact her?”
She handed him the bottle, and this time Savin drank directly from it. “I can’t tell you what to do. Your mother will most likely be elated. But it would be weird for her, too. Might take her some time to figure everything out, as it has taken for you. She thinks—well, you know—she thinks you’re dead.”
Jett toggled the glass on her stomach.
Savin leaned over and kissed her on the shoulder. “You just need some more time to adjust to being here.”
“And to forget about the past.”
“And...” He sighed heavily. “CJ and I managed to destroy and/or send back dozens of demons this afternoon. But there’s something you need to know.”
She turned to look up into his deep blue eyes. She trusted those eyes. They would not hurt her. “Tell me.”
“Edamite Thrash interrogated one of the demons he captured and the thing told him how, exactly, to close the rift and seal it.”
“Which is?”
“They want their queen back.” As he met her gaze, Jett saw the stoicism return to his demeanor. “We send her home to Daemonia, and the rift can be sealed.”
A stunning revelation, issued with a cruel calm that shouldn’t surprise her. The man did do that for a living. And he was trying to protect innocents. She had no qualms about that. Save that she was also an innocent. In her core, she was. Despite the darkness that clung to her.
“I’ll never reckon you, Jett. Promise.”
“But I’m their queen. You have to send me back.”
Jett stood up from the couch. She paced toward the kitchen, keeping her back to Savin. He got up and pulled her into a hug from behind. She initially struggled, but when he wrapped his wide arms about her and hugged his head aside hers, she could no longer resist the need for the safety he offered.
“I promise you,” he reiterated. “My word is good. I will not reckon you to Daemonia.”
“But so many could suffer if you do not send me back. The people of Paris...”
“We’re keeping things under control. For now. CJ’s fix on the rift should slow the influx, but...I’m going to the Archives early tomorrow to see what CJ has found in the demon room.”
“The demon room?”
“They have a room for every paranormal being that exists. Filled with source materials, documents, histories, artifacts. There’s got to be something in that room that can help you.”
“Make me completely human again?” She turned in his embrace and her wide eyes pleaded with him.
He hadn’t considered that option for her survival. Daemonia would not want back a queen who was merely human. That could be a way to save Jett. And...
He nodded. “And maybe we can find the other queen. The one who took us in the first place. If she’s still out there, we can send her back.”
A twinge at his insides gripped him like a vise about the spine. He let go of Jett and stepped back from her. She stood before him, seemingly weak and defeated, an innocent woman. Looking so frail. He wanted to hug her again, to hold her tight to make her know what he said was the truth.
But something kept him from doing so. And then he realized what it was. Or rather who—the Other.
Bitch.
What did she have against Jett? And why had she allowed him to make love to her without interference, yet at moments like this it was as if she cringed in horror at their closeness? It had been a few days since he’d given her morphine, and he wasn’t about to shoot up again so soon. The bitch could go through withdrawal for all he cared.
“What did the dark witch say when you told him I was the queen?” Jett asked quietly.
“I didn’t tell him. Wasn’t sure how. Also, didn’t feel he had a right to know. Yet.”
She nodded. “Yet.” He reached for her, but she turned a shoulder to him. “I’m tired.”
Right. This was too much for both of them right now. Savin grabbed the whiskey bottle and nodded toward the bedroom. “You should get some rest. In the morning I’ll head to the Archives. I don’t think I’ll sleep much, but I’m going to try.”
“You need to be strong.” She bowed her head. “Thank you, Savin. For telling me the truth. You could have kept it to yourself.”
“Secrets only grow. I want you to trust me, Jett.”
“I do. I’m going to think about my mom. I’m not sure it would be a good idea to contact her right now.”
“Give it some thought.” He started to lean forward and kiss her on the forehead, but the Other turned him toward the couch.
Just as well.
“Good night,” Jett said softly. She padded into the bedroom.
He listened to the sheets rumple as she climbed in, and her sigh as her head hit the pillow.
Savin tilted back another swallow of whiskey. He’d once told a friend this stuff had been brewed by trolls. He’d like to punch a troll right now. A big, blocky bit of stupid that could take a punch like a sand-filled punching bag.
He wanted to beat out his anger and frustration on something, that was for sure. But how to attack that which lived within him?
He eyed the tin of morphine of the shelf beside the couch. “Bitch,” he muttered.
* * *
Jett woke from what felt like a refreshing slumber. She stretched out on the bed, then immediately noticed that Savin had chosen to sleep on the couch last night. The information about her mother and the subsequent heart-wrenching decision that had to be made—to seek her out or not—had not lended to a sensual snuggling session following. Nor had the fact that the queen was needed to close the rift.
Just as well. She was thankful that he’d been truthful with her.
Now to figure what should hap
pen next.
She did not want to go back to that literal hell. No one could make her take a single step toward that realm.
But no matter if she planted her feet firmly, Savin did have the power to send her back. He was a reckoner. He could send any demon back to Daemonia.
He’d said he wouldn’t reckon her. And she did believe him. But it pained her to know she would be forcing him to go against his loyalties to the job he performed. Reckoning was all he knew. What would the consequences be if he refused to do that job?
Surely, the man hadn’t reckoned all the demons who had come to this realm from Daemonia. Some were smart, and perhaps others blended easily into society, becoming a part of the human race. They might not present harm or a danger to humans. No need to send them back from whence they’d come.
She hadn’t harmed anyone. And didn’t want to, either. Yet she had worn the crown and still felt that power within her. A power that was stifled too much lately.
Sliding out of bed, Jett wandered into the bathroom and twisted on the shower. Checking her reflection, she sneered. Her skin had gotten pale and her hair wasn’t as glossy since she’d escaped that place. If she were in her demonic form, she would glow. Literally. And she would feel her strength so much more.
Keeping up the sheen was growing more difficult. And yet she sensed it was also getting easier. Was that because some of her demonic nature was changing, going away? Could she ever become completely human again?
Savin had said he’d look into that today. Something about a book on demons. And now, when she took a moment to slip through the bedroom and glance out into the living room, she didn’t see him on the couch. It was late, around eleven in the morning.
“He must have left for the Archives.”
She hoped he could find what they both desperately needed.
Chapter 20
Savin wandered into the demon room behind Certainly Jones.
“Must be freaky working here with all these strange artifacts and—” Savin bent to peer into a glass cylinder container that was about two feet high and filled with clear liquid. Inside floated what looked like a jellyfish, but it was thorned and its eyes were red. “Hell fish.”