by D. G. Swank
“Yes,” he said. “There will be rules.” He took a sip of his wine and then removed the covers off our plates, revealing chicken and a rice dish. Surprisingly, it was steaming. “But first we eat.”
The smell hit my nose, and my stomach growled again, audibly this time. I picked up my fork and scooped up some rice.
Abel began to slice through his chicken with his knife, but I could feel his gaze on me.
“You’ve lost weight,” he said.
“Working out six hours a day will do that to you.”
“Perhaps that’s why the sedative was too much for you, although you’ve replaced fat with muscle.”
I held my fork out to him and narrowed my eyes. “Watch it.”
“You were perfect before,” he said without any hint that he was bullshitting me. “Soft in the right places. You’re harder now.”
If he was trying to communicate that he found me less attractive, he’d scored big-time. Sure, I could feel his sexual hunger for me, but I had a feeling that most of it was supernatural, not his own personal desire. And that feeling went both ways.
Still, I felt like I’d been rejected for the second time that day—Abel could have any woman he wanted, and he’d made it clear I wasn’t his type. Now I could either pretend I didn’t catch his insult and continue eating or get up and call an Uber and get the hell out of here.
Call me a masochist, but I choose the former. I still wanted answers.
“Muscle should have processed the sedative more efficiently. You should have woken sooner, not later,” he continued, oblivious to the fact that he’d insulted me.
“It’s me,” I said, chopping off a piece of chicken with far less grace than he was using on his own meal. “My body processes sedatives differently. When I was twelve, I was put under to have four teeth pulled and it took me forever to wake up. They almost sent me to the emergency room.”
“How did I not know that?” he asked in a growl.
I jerked my gaze up to see the fury on his face. “Hey, stalker,” I said with a buttload of venom. “Chill. Your investigating-the-nuances-of-my-life days are over right here and now. You want to know something, you ask me. Got it?”
He opened his mouth to protest, but no words made it out.
I held his gaze. “And you don’t need to know anything more about how my body processes sedatives because you will never drug me again, understood?”
His anger reignited. “I will not be held by constraints when it comes to your safety.”
“Your concern would be touching if it wasn’t steeped in narcissism.”
“I’ve never hidden that fact,” he said, sounding slightly perturbed.
“Right. Rule number one of our arrangement is to keep Piper alive until a crescent moon magically appears on her hand so she can kill Kieran Abel.” I stabbed my chicken with more force than necessary.
“If you find me so irritating, then why do you oppose killing me?”
I dropped my fork so that it clanked on the plate, which I realized belatedly was real china. “Because if I killed everyone who irritated me, over half the people I know would be dead!”
He stared at me with a blank face that slowly broke into a grin.
“Do not laugh at me.”
His grin spread. “I’m not laughing. And you make an excellent point.”
“I still don’t like that you tricked me into agreeing to kill you. It was an asshole move.”
“Many, many people have considered me to be an asshole.”
I picked my fork back up and started to eat again. “Maybe if you lost the arrogant, entitled attitude, you could change that.”
He rolled his shoulder in a lazy shrug. “It suits me for them to think I’m an asshole.”
“Rule number two,” I said. “Always presume Kieran Abel is an asshole.”
He grinned again as he picked up his wine glass. “It’s a good rule to live by.”
I shook my head. “You’re infuriating.”
“Maybe I’m trying to make you hate me so you’ll be more willing to kill me.”
I took a couple bites of my food, pondering what he’d said. It would be in his best interest to make me hate him, so why didn’t he? Maybe because he liked me as a person, something that went beyond the weird supernatural pull between us. If I were completely honest, when he dropped the asshole façade—because the more time I spent with him, the more convinced I became that it was a façade—I liked him too.
I liked him too much for my own good.
I took several more bites, then asked, “Why didn’t you want Caelius to say your title?”
A frown wrinkled his brow. “What are you talking about?”
“You know good and well what I’m talking about. Were you trying to keep me from finding out your official title? Or were you trying to keep him from confirming that he really did know who you were?”
He took a sip of wine, then lowered the glass and stared at the wall of windows at the back of the house through the opening to the living room. “Both.”
I was surprised he’d answered.
The look on his face suggested he was too. He glanced down at my plate and stood. “You’re done. It’s time for dessert.”
Sure enough, I’d practically inhaled everything on my plate. “Davis will have a fit if I have anything with sugar.”
His brow lifted. “Davis does as I tell him. Wait here.”
He picked up both plates and left the room. I turned to look out the window, at the view of the mountainside, and the slightest specks of light in the dark, which hinted at the city of Asheville below.
I refilled both wine glasses and took them into the living room. There was a deck off the back of the house, so I set the glasses on an end table and opened the large sliding glass door.
The view was even more beautiful than I could have imagined. The city was still lit up, even though it was well after midnight. It lay in a valley, surrounded by the Smoky Mountains, and I felt energized and recharged as I stared down at it.
“I thought I told you to wait in the dining room,” Abel said from behind me, but he didn’t sound irritated. He sounded amused.
I kept my back to him, enjoying the view too much to face him. “I’m not Davis.”
“No,” he said in a low voice that sent shivers down my back. “You’re not.”
I turned around then, as though pulled by an invisible string. I gasped when I realized what he’d done.
Kieran Abel, self-proclaimed asshole, was holding a birthday cake, complete with lit candles that flickered in the breeze.
I’d been telling Hudson for days that I didn’t want to celebrate my birthday, and while that was mostly true, some small part of me had been disappointed.
“It’s now a day late,” he said with an apologetic grin. “It’s after midnight.” Then a scowl tightened his face. “Although if you’d come when I’d requested, you would have received it and your gift long before midnight.”
“You got me a cake for my birthday,” I said in disbelief.
“And a present. It’s the real reason I went to Europe this week.”
His admission caught me by surprise. “I thought the ring was your reason.”
He pinched his lips and gave me an impish look. “I was already there, so I killed two birds with one stone.”
“What’s my present?”
“You have to blow out your candles first.”
I took two steps toward him, staring at the burning candles. “Kieran,” I said softly, overcome with emotion. “Thank you.”
“I believe it’s customary to make a wish before you blow them out.”
I kept my gaze on the flickering flames. “I wouldn’t even know what to wish for.” My life was in chaos. One wish wasn’t going to fix anything.
“Waboose,” he said gently, and my gaze lifted to his. “You said you wanted to connect with your cousin because you didn’t want to feel alone anymore. You’re not alone. You have me.”
&
nbsp; “Until I kill you.”
“There is that,” he said softly. “I want to help you, Piper. Let me keep you safe.” When I started to say something, he lifted a finger to my lips to silence me while he balanced the cake with one hand. “Perhaps I have other motivations to keep you safe—ones that stretch beyond killing me.”
His finger sent heat from my lips straight to my groin. The last thing I was thinking about was the cake in his hands. The look in his eyes and the way he inhaled a lungful of air suggested he felt it just as much as I did.
In this moment, I knew that Kieran Abel cared about me outside of our blood bond. And I knew what I had to wish for.
I kissed the tip of his finger and wrapped my hand around his wrist and pulled it down. Then I closed my eyes and made my wish as I blew out the candles.
I want to find a way to save Abel.
Chapter 20
I’d never had a birthday wish come true before, but this one felt different. Something in the air tickled my skin, like lingering magic. Abel must have felt it too.
“What did you wish for?”
I opened my eyes and saw that I’d blown out every candle.
“What did you wish for?” he repeated more firmly.
I glanced up at him. “I can’t tell you or it won’t come true.”
“I can make you tell me.”
“I thought we’d just confirmed I’m not Davis.” I gave him a haughty look as I scooped a finger into the frosting, then licked it. It was cream cheese frosting, my favorite—I tried to ignore how he knew that—and I released a soft moan.
“I have other ways of making you talk.” His tone hinted that the only bite the threat carried was the promise of his teeth raking my skin if he kissed me.
I laughed despite the thrill that skated down my spine. I was playing with fire, but I felt too lighthearted to care. Receiving a birthday cake from Abel made me forget my troubles, even if it was only a temporary reprieve. It was the last thing I would have expected from him. “Not until I’ve had cake. I haven’t had sugar in two weeks.” Then I grimaced. “Partial truth. I had sugar this morning when Hudson gave me a birthday donut.”
He stared at me as though I was speaking a foreign language.
“Did you bring plates and forks?”
“You were supposed to stay in the dining room.”
“Rule number three,” I said, taking the cake from him. “Piper rarely does as she’s told. Now go get the plates before I eat it with my bare hands.”
To my amazement, he did as I requested. When he returned to the deck, he was balancing two plates with silverware, along with the two glasses of wine.
I’d made myself comfortable on his deck furniture, and was sitting on one of the overstuffed chairs bracketing the small table where I’d set the cake. I’d expected him to sit on the chair across from me, but after he set everything on the table, he gently pushed my feet off the ottoman by my feet and sat down directly in front of me.
“What am I going to do with you, Piper Lancaster?” he asked, looking far too serious for someone who had just held a cake with twenty-five burning candles.
I leaned forward so that our faces were about a foot apart. “Who says you have to do anything with me?”
He started to say something, but I turned and picked up the cake knife he’d brought out with him. The cake knife, not to mention the fancy kitchen where he kept it, only proved how Abel and I were like night and day. He’d brought out a fancy knife to cut the cake, while I would have used a butter knife. My grandmother would love him.
I cut two slim pieces and put them on plates, handing one to Abel before digging into mine. “How’d you know I like lemon cake with cream cheese frosting?”
“Do I really have to admit it?” he asked in a sullen tone.
“I meant what I said. No more spying, okay?” I said softly. “No more prying into the details of my life. Ask me. Find out with me. Let there be surprises.”
“There are more surprises with you than I’d planned,” he said as he dug into his piece.
“That’s half your problem. You can’t plan surprises, Abel. They just happen.”
“This is far too important—you are far too important—to leave things to chance.”
I studied his face for several seconds before I said gently, “You’ve discovered enough. Spend time with me and find out the rest.”
He looked pained. “Spending time with you is dangerous, Waboose.”
“Because you like me too much?” I teased.
A wicked grin filled his eyes. “No, because you like me too much.”
I laughed. “Don’t flatter yourself. You’re not as charming as you seem to think.”
He laughed too, and before I realized what he was doing, he leaned forward and kissed me. After all the sexual tension between us, I’d expected fire and passion, but this was soft and gentle—tentative. When I didn’t pull away, he lifted his hand to my cheek, his palm lightly cupping my face.
I kissed him back as his lips skimmed mine, his tongue licking then retreating.
I moaned, surprised at the rightness of this. Of him. Everything that had been missing in my kiss with Jack—and more—was here with Abel.
Somehow my mind registered that he’d taken the plate from my hand and hauled me onto his lap. One of his hands slid up over my silky blouse to the underside of my breast while his mouth grew bolder. When his thumb brushed over my nipple, I nearly jumped off his lap, but his firm grip held me still, and I moaned again as I wrapped an arm around the back of his neck to steady myself.
He lifted his face and stared down at me. “You’re so beautiful,” he said in awe. “And you’re so…” He shook his head and kissed me again, possessively this time. I held on to him as I kissed him back, my free hand roaming over his chest and feeling every muscle under his shirt.
Then, just as abruptly as he’d started this, he stood, leaving me confused and frustrated on the ottoman.
“We can’t do this, Piper.”
I stared up at him in shock. “You’re the one who kissed me.”
“I didn’t hear you protesting,” he countered.
“No, because we’re both consenting adults.”
Worry washed over his face. “Sex between us could have devastating consequences.”
“Why?” I got to my feet, realizing that this wasn’t just him trying to keep distance between us. This was legitimate concern. “What will happen if we have sex?”
He shifted his weight, clearly flustered, a look I wasn’t used to seeing on him. “I don’t know.”
“Did you just admit that you might not know something?”
He stared at me in disbelief and dropped his hand. “Are you mocking me?”
“No, Abel. Merely observing.”
“This isn’t funny, Piper. We could…” He seemed to struggle to find the right words. “It could be catastrophic.”
“Why? Because you might actually end up caring about me?”
“No!” he shouted, getting frustrated. “We could bind our souls for eternity.”
I blinked, sure I’d heard him wrong. “What?”
“I don’t have proof, but we made a blood oath and then we drank each other’s blood…” He shook his head again. “There’s an undeniable pull between us that is purely supernatural—”
That pissed me off. “Let me guess, it has to be purely supernatural because I’m not soft enough to be attractive for you,” I said in a snotty tone.
“What?”
“You made it very clear I wasn’t your type.”
He grabbed my shoulders and gave me a tiny shake. “Piper. Focus. I’m destined to go to hell. If we bind our souls, I’ll drag you there with me.”
I gasped and took a step backward. “Really?”
“I don’t know,” he said, his eyes pleading with me. “Maybe.”
“How do we find out for sure?”
He dropped his hands to his sides and walked to the edge of the balcony. �
��Maybe we don’t, but I know someone who might know.”
“Okeus?”
Rage and panic covered his face. “No, Kewasa. Never Okeus. Never.”
“Why?”
“He wants me for reasons I won’t go into, but you…” He cupped my cheek and stared into my eyes with an intensity that frightened me. “He can never have you. Hell only knows what he would do to you and use you for. Promise me you will never try to contact Okeus.”
Okeus—pronounced Okee—was practically the equivalent of the Judeo-Christian devil. He was a Native American god of war and he ruled the demons that were now wandering the earth. He was evil. “He really freaks you out.”
“He’s dangerous. You have to stay as far away from him as possible.”
“Aren’t I already on his radar since I’m killing demons?”
“You will be eventually, but until then, you need to stay hidden from him.”
Abel had faced ferocious demons without breaking a sweat, but the mere thought of either one of us contacting Okeus had him nearly in a state of panic. That alone would have convinced me he was dangerous.
“I have no plans to contact Okeus in any way, shape, or form,” I said. “I’m safe.”
He shook his head. “No, you’re not. You know your father made a deal with the Guardians to leave you alone until you turned twenty-five. Yesterday was your birthday, Waboose. Those who are left will be coming for you.”
While I’d suspected as much, hearing Abel say it really drove the knowledge home.
“Maybe they’ll just try to recruit me.” At least, that was the scenario I was hoping for.
“No. They will take you.”
“Shit.” I turned away from him and walked to the edge of the balcony. “What am I going to do?” I’d known this was coming. Why hadn’t I tried to be more prepared?
“That’s also part of why I wanted to see you tonight. To tell you I’ll take care of everything.”
I turned back to look at him, terrified of what he meant. “How will you take care of it?”
“I want you to live here.”
I was sure I must have heard him wrong. “With you?”