by Lara Adrian
When he met her eyes again, she saw a dark satisfaction in his. An unmistakable hunger. And whether or not he wanted to enthrall her, she could feel the caress of his preternatural allure. It reached out to her like a physical stroke.
He moved closer, blocking her from the disapproval of these other people.
His family, all of whom seemed to regard her as the intruder when it was she who’d been forced here against her will.
“Come with me,” Gravori said.
He started walking. This time, Nahiri was glad to obey him.
She followed him through the courtyard, toward a stone path cut through a lush garden. When they were out of view of the gathering, Gravori paused and turned toward her, frowning. “Undo your braid.”
“Why?” Instinctively, she reached for the long tail that swung behind her with each step.
“Because I asked you to,” he said in low, sensual tones that conveyed something more than simple arrogance. “And because it reminds everyone here of what you are.”
“The enemy,” she murmured. “Is that why you made me put on this dress too?”
He cocked his head as he made another slow appraisal of her from head to toe. “No. I made you put it on because I wanted to see you in it. Now, undo your braid.”
Maybe because her heart rate had just gone a bit hectic, Nahiri found herself slipping off the thin leather thong at the end of her braid. She speared her fingers into the woven strands and worked them loose all the way up to her nape.
As her long black hair sifted around her shoulders and down her spine, Gravori’s chest rumbled with a quiet growl. The air thickened as though a wave of heat had just rolled into the garden to twine around the both of them.
“This way,” he snarled, and set off once more.
On the other end of the manicured bushes, flower beds and maze of tall greenery, a paved path led across the lawn to where a black helicopter sat on a concrete pad behind the estate. Emblazoned on the cockpit door was the symbol of a scorpion, painted in gold.
The Gravori sigil.
Each of the ten Incubi Houses had their own symbol, their own totem that represented the family through the eons. Every Nephilim knew the sigils. For those Nephilim born of the Harem, like Nahiri, their fathers were Incubi, so the sigils were part of them too.
Nahiri looked at Devlin Gravori, striding alongside her with grim purpose.
Like his House totem, he was volatile and dangerous.
He was fierce, unforgiving, and yet his hand came down gently on the small of her back as they reached the helicopter. A pilot sat at the controls. An Incubus as well, Nahiri guessed, feeling her skin prickle with mild awareness of the demon.
Although the flat look he gave her through the window might have been enough to tell her he was also a member of Gravori House.
“My brother, Naell,” Devlin said as he opened the cockpit door to Nahiri.
The sandy-haired demon grunted, his expression unmoving.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
Gravori didn’t answer. He gestured to the open door and the cabin within. “After you.”
Warily, she climbed up into the cabin and slid into one of four bucket seats, the two pairs facing each other inside the small compartment. Gravori got in behind her and took the seat right next to her. After strapping her into the restraints, then fastening his own, he gave a nod to the pilot to take off.
The engines whined, the propeller began to chop, and the helicopter lifted up from the ground.
Nahiri had never felt anything so extraordinary. She’d never seen the Earth from above, had never realized how awe-inspiring hills and rock and trees could seem from so high off the ground. And up ahead, the ocean.
It glittered, impossibly blue, sunlight twinkling like stars across the rippling surface.
Nahiri pressed her face as close to the window as she could get.
“You’ve never flown before?” Gravori’s low voice sounded right up against her ear.
She gave a small shake of her head, unable to summon words with him so close to her. She’d been so engrossed in the scenery, she hadn’t realized he’d unbuckled his seat belt and sidled up behind her.
Now she was powerfully aware of him. His heat permeated the thin silk of her dress. His body’s warmth skated over her bare arms, making an all-new, liquid warmth bloom deep inside her.
She tried to ignore the intensity of their close quarters, and the fact that the outside of his thigh was pressed up against hers as he leaned in beside her. His long, muscled arms caged her in on either side of the small compartment, one hand on the upper back of her seat, the other braced on the opposite side of the cabin.
Nahiri wanted to ignore the way her pulse was hammering in her breast and in her temples…the way it was throbbing in the sensitive apex of her thighs.
“You know, the Incubi have always envied your angel ancestors for their wings,” he murmured, his mouth beside her ear.
“The Nephilim too,” Nahiri said. She gazed in wonder as they soared over a verdant, hilly landscape. Neatly tended rows of vines combed the Earth as far as she could see. And embracing the edge of the rolling green inclines and fertile brown tracks of soil was the breathtaking crystal blue water of the ocean. “Being earthbound, I never understood why I should envy the angels. Until now.”
She made the mistake of turning slightly to look at him.
His penetrating stare seemed to reach right into her eyes, into her soul.
“There are other ways to fly, Nahiri. You only have to be willing to let go.”
His voice was velvet against her nerve endings, a temptation as overwhelming as his immense body, crowding her too intimately in the tiny compartment. His gaze dropped to her mouth and lingered there, making all the moisture evaporate from her lips.
She swallowed, wanting desperately to think he was flexing his Incubus powers of seduction on her.
Anything to keep from admitting to herself how much she hoped he would kiss her.
This man—this demon Incubus—made her yearn for dark, dangerous things.
And she wasn’t alone in that yearning. She could read it plainly enough in his unflinching face. She could see it in his too-serious expression that made her feel both wildly uncomfortable and recklessly bold.
He lifted his eyes to hers, then his fingers brushed tenderly along the side of her cheek, coaxing her face toward his.
Nahiri knew she should draw away from his touch like she would an open flame. Instead, she couldn’t even draw breath.
Heaven save her, but there was nothing she wanted more in that moment than to feel his lips against hers.
He leaned in closer, then closer still.
A dark rumble vibrated through him, though whether it was a chuckle or a growl, she couldn’t be certain. His hand fell away abruptly, leaving an empty chill on her cheek.
“We’re here,” he said, a gruff announcement.
He sat back in his seat, all the tenderness of the moment gone in an instant.
Nahiri mentally snapped herself out of her daze to look out the window again. Below them, the green vineyards and rich brown soil stretched toward a compound of cream-colored buildings capped with red tile roofs.
There was nothing else around for miles and miles.
Nahiri shot a troubled look at him. “What is this, my new prison?”
His mouth quirked, but his gaze was gravely serious. “This is the Gravori family business. I have matters to attend today and I wasn’t about to leave a Blade in my home without me there.”
She sat back against the cushioned seat, watching as the helicopter gently descended to the ground outside the complex of buildings.
After they landed, Nahiri reached up to unfasten the restraints. Before she could manage it, Gravori’s hand came down atop hers. “The employees here are human. They don’t know what I am, and I mean to keep it that way.” He leaned toward her, no softness in his citrine eyes, or in the dark velvet voice that
grazed her ear. “Whatever I say in there, I advise that you play along.”
CHAPTER SIX
Heads turned as Dev walked into the Gravori Vineyards corporate office with Nahiri.
It wasn’t unusual for the female employees—and a few of the men—to pause whatever they were doing and look up in eager anticipation when he or any other Incubus entered a room.
The sensual allure of a sex demon was a powerful thing. It was a reaction Dev and his kind had learned to take in stride. So much so, he hardly noticed anymore.
But today it was different.
Today, the object of everyone’s interest was the dark-haired, exotic beauty at Dev’s side.
He glanced at Nahiri and saw what the humans did in that moment: a tall, elegant goddess with absorbing, intelligent brown eyes and a tempting, sensual mouth, set in the delicate face of an angel.
Maybe he should have thought better of making her wear the spaghetti-strap sundress with its plunging neckline. He’d sent Ram to the mainland last night to buy various supplies, and told the Watchman to pick up a few things for Nahiri to wear. Of the handful of garments Ram returned with, the tropical blue dress had immediately caught Dev’s eye. He knew the body-skimming, sexy dress would look spectacular against Nahiri’s smooth skin and pleasing curves, and he’d been right.
Damn, had he ever been right.
The way the half-dozen human men in the room were gaping at her, Dev would have rather had her covered from head to toe in the shapeless, undyed linen from the temple.
One of the older women stepped around the reception desk to greet them. “Good morning, Mr. Gravori. And, ah, your…guest?”
“Good morning, Louisa,” he said, giving his capable general manager a nod. He sent a flat look and a tighter nod of greeting to the rest of the room—the men in particular. “This is Nahiri.”
Although he didn’t have to say it, every male pair of eyes in the room blinked with understanding.
This unearthly beauty was Nahiri, and she belonged to Dev.
At least as far as any of them were concerned.
He glanced back to Louisa. “Is everything ready for me?”
“Yes, Mr. Gravori. This way, please.”
He paused to let Nahiri step in front of him, gesturing her into motion with his palm at the base of her spine. He felt her sudden intake of breath at the moment of contact. The jolt of awareness—her little tremor of startled pleasure—vibrated against his palm, a sensation that stayed with him even after he’d drawn his hand away and fell in behind her.
With pleasure, he followed her as Louisa took them through the old stucco-and-tile building that had been the headquarters of the Gravori family business for hundreds of years. It was impossible to walk behind Nahiri and not imagine what her long, lean legs would feel like wrapped around his waist. And seeing the tight curve of her backside made him instantly hard and hungry with the urge to mount her, to bend her over the nearest surface and ride her sweet ass until she was screaming his name for all to hear.
Especially the men in the other room, who’d looked at her as if they were having similar thoughts.
Dev felt a scowl crease his brow.
He had no right to feel any such things—least of all the jagged edge of possessiveness that cut into him while he strode behind Nahiri toward their destination.
She didn’t belong to him, despite the threat he’d delivered yesterday in his bedroom.
She belonged to the temple, to the Three.
She belonged to a race of beings he didn’t trust and should despise for what had been done to his brother and the human Marius had taken up with.
And yet, Dev craved this Nephilim Blade.
He wanted Nahiri with an intensity that shook him.
Damn it, he should have kissed her in the helicopter and gotten it out of his system. Now, the question—the temptation—was going to hang over him all bloody day.
And it wasn’t going to be easy to pretend he’d brought Nahiri with him purely for the security of his House and family when he was stalking after her now, sporting a raging hard-on.
“Here we are, Mr. Gravori,” Louisa announced, pausing at an open doorway. “A bottle from each of our finest vintages, just as you requested.”
“Thank you,” Dev murmured. He motioned for Nahiri to step inside the tasting room with him. Across the sunlit plank wood floor and antique Persian rug was a blood-red leather sofa and a large mahogany cocktail table where ten bottles of red wine stood uncorked and waiting to be sampled. “That will be all, Louisa. I’ll let you know when I’m finished in here.”
“Of course, sir.” She smiled and obediently disappeared.
Nahiri glanced at all the wine before looking back at him in question. “This was the important business you had to attend today?”
“Wine has been my family’s business for centuries. It’s my passion.” He cleared his throat. “One of them, at any rate. And yes, Nahiri. This is important.”
He closed the door behind them as she wandered farther into the room.
Instead of sitting down, Nahiri drifted over to the large wall of windows that overlooked the sun-washed vineyards outside. “All of the vines we flew over are yours?”
“Every last one of them.” Dev joined her at the glass. “The entire island belongs to the House of Gravori. The winery and vineyards date back to Roman times.”
“It’s lovely,” she murmured. “And…not what I expected.”
Dev stared at her. “I agree.”
Her gaze flew to his, her fine brows raised. Whatever she might have thought or said was lost when movement outside drew her attention back to the windows. “There goes your brother. Naell, was it?”
Dev grunted, following her line of vision. Naell strode toward one of the rows of vines. He wasn’t alone. The Incubus was hardly ever without female company, and Dev didn’t have to guess what his sibling was up to now.
“Isn’t that one of the women we saw when we came in?” Nahiri asked. The words had barely left her lips before she glanced away abruptly. “He’s taking off her clothing in broad daylight.”
“Yes,” Dev replied. “Incubi don’t have modesty issues. Apparently, neither does Naell’s choice of Thrall today.”
Dev watched only long enough to see Naell sling the half-naked, giggling young woman over his beefy shoulder and tromp off into the vines with her. When he looked at Nahiri, her cheeks were flamed pink.
“Do you use the women here like that too?”
“Never,” he said. But he had to admit a pang of envy for his brother, who took his pleasure anywhere, and with anyone, he pleased. If Dev were more like Naell, or most of his other brothers, Nahiri’s cheeks wouldn’t be the only part of her that was flushed with heat. “I prefer to keep my business and personal lives separate,” he told her. “Fewer complications that way.”
“Your brother doesn’t seem to care about any of that.”
Dev shrugged. “Naell does what he wants. Marius did too.”
“Your brother who died,” Nahiri murmured.
“My brother who was murdered,” he corrected.
With a gesture of his arm, Dev guided Nahiri to take a seat on the sofa while he poured them each a sampling from one of the bottles of wine. He sat down beside her and handed her a glass.
She sipped at his direction, and Dev waited for her reaction. Although she didn’t seem to dislike the wine, her unaffected expression didn’t applaud it either. Dev offered her a cracker to prepare her palate for a different selection. She munched it demurely, then took the new glass he offered her.
“Marius couldn’t resist human women, even more so than Naell,” Dev continued. “Marius used to say he enjoyed the freedom, the fact that he never risked a mating bond with a human.”
“Unlike a Nephilim,” Nahiri added.
Although the Incubi and Nephilim were opposing races, they were also dependent on each other for continuing their lines. In an odd demonstration of cosmic balance, offsp
ring were born only to an Incubus/Nephilim joining. Without the Nephilim, the Incubi Houses would all eventually perish. Without the Incubi, the Nephilim would cease to exist.
The Harem helped ensure that balance was met with sanctified regularity. It also helped avoid the added complication of the mating bond, which formed if a pair made love together a total of eight times.
The bond was eternal, unbreakable. And there were few Incubi willing to entrust their sustenance and all of their future progeny to a single Nephilim.
Over the eons, only a few Gravoris had taken Nephilim as their bonded mates.
For the rest, Dev included, in order to keep the Gravori line intact, a visit to the Harem was required.
Dev had successfully avoided his call of duty for a couple of centuries.
He thought of Marius, and the Harem-born son he left behind. “I keep trying to make sense of the slayings, but there is no sense in it.”
Nahiri stared at him in silence for a long moment. “A killing like that would only happen if a law was broken. A very high law. And no Blade would carry it out unless commanded to.”
“Marius broke no laws. And what about the woman he was with that night? Why kill her along with him?”
Nahiri frowned. “The Three do not approve of sexual relations between Incubi and humans. In the old times, it was forbidden—”
Dev scoffed. “An old law that went extinct with the last Succubus a very long time ago.”
“Those offspring between humans and Incubi were an abomination,” Nahiri said, no doubt quoting from the teachings of the Three.
“They were sisters to my kind,” he said. They were female sex demons and very powerful beings, some of whom had incited an ancient war between the demon realm and the Nephilim. “Nature seems to have taken care of that problem for everyone. There hasn’t been a successful Incubus/human breeding for as long as I can remember. As for Marius, he did nothing to deserve that kind of death. He was a good man. A good father to the son who hardly had the chance to know him.”
“A son?” Nahiri asked, her voice soft, compassionate. She’d taken one sip of the second wine now, licking her lips as she swallowed. She took another sip, nodding her approval.