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Give Up the Ghost: The Nightwatch Series Book 2

Page 13

by Cassidy, Debbie


  “And then you killed someone,” Henri reminded him.

  His expression sobered. “Yes. And this world has been my home ever since. But my lands are still there. According to Demonica law, the lands won’t officially pass down to my successor until there is proof of my death.”

  He was a duke of Demonica, and he was Loki, and he was sitting up in bed in a gothic mansion with his hair up in a man bun and a cup of tea carefully balanced on his lap.

  Laughter bubbled up my throat, and I swallowed it because the fangirl needed to stay down.

  I shook my head. “This is all so weird that it has to be true.”

  Kris’s eyes narrowed, and his lips curved in a full-bodied smirk. “Oh, we haven’t gotten to standard etiquette yet. I warned you about it, and I wasn’t joking. Daemons are inclined to nudity, and we’re very tactile. You’ll need to put aside your cultural predispositions. But we can work on that.”

  Henri was instantly on alert. “Work on it how?”

  Kris widened his eyes. “By getting naked, of course.” He crossed his arms. “Kat, you can go first.”

  Like hell. “I think we can leave the practical applications for when and if we need to employ them. We’re going to be acting as rogue thieves, not prancing around at a social event.”

  His mouth turned down. “Spoilsport.”

  “And what will you tell your family when you return with a Nightblood and golem in tow?”

  Loki gave us his signature cocky smile. “My demon-blood lover and her trusty golem bodyguard will be welcome guests at the House of Mornor. My sister, Elantria, will be intrigued by you, and my mother, Vilintra, will be horrified. It’ll be a blast.”

  “Why do I have to play your lover?”

  He snorted. “Because that is who I am. I am the duke with all the lovers. It’s the most authentic disguise. They won’t question my bringing home a female, and if Henri is part of your entourage, they’ll accept him too.”

  “And the fact he doesn’t have daemon blood.”

  “They’ll understand that he’s blood bound to you.” He pressed his lips together. “I can handle my family. It’s the rest of Demonica we’ll need to worry about.” He placed his cup on the table. “I hate to sound like an old man needing a nap, but I’m going to need a nap now. We can pick up again tomorrow.”

  Henri and I left Kris to his recuperation and headed out of the room.

  “Lovers,” Henri muttered. He strode off down the stairs, leaving a residue of heat in my veins.

  Not desire this time, not shame, but jealousy.

  Henri was jealous.

  Chapter Fifteen

  We stood at Leyling crossroads, a misty, creepy intersection in the middle of nowhere, made even creepier by the fact that we were all half-dressed. Kris wore a gauzy shirt with no buttons, so it flapped in the breeze and showcased his chiseled abs. Henri had on a cotton waistcoat that was too small for him and would probably tear if he made any sudden moves. Both wore loose cotton pants and sandals. The outfit Kris had picked out for me had covered me from head to toe but had been completely see-through. Not happening, pal. So, we’d settled for a halter neck summer dress with a slit skirt that exposed my whole back and flashed way too much leg and thigh.

  Thank goodness none of us felt the cold because there’d be some goosebumps and hard nipples otherwise.

  The last five days of information that Kris had poured into my head swirled around, eager to be utilized. The plan was to go straight to Kris’s home in Demonica and then regroup from there. Apparently, if he was on his property, then the bounty on his head couldn’t be exacted.

  The bedrest had done him good. He was back on his feet, paler than usual but looking almost like his regular, snarky self.

  He rolled his neck on his shoulders. “Where the heck is this Murray guy? And what kind of name is Murray for a crossroads daemon?”

  “A pseudonym, just like yours is.” A figure stepped out of the mist to our left.

  And yeah, I had to bite back a squeak because my super Nightblood senses had not picked him up.

  I looked about. “Where the hell did you come from?”

  But Kris was staring at Murray with round eyes. “Motherfucker.”

  “Nah, I don’t go by that name anymore,” Murray quipped.

  Kris made a lunge for the crossroads daemon, and they met in a macho, back-slapping hug.

  “What the heck are you doing here? How did you find me?” Kris asked.

  “I’m here because of her.” Murray jerked his head in my direction.

  “Wait.” Kris stepped back. “You’re the crossroads daemon? You’re Murray?”

  “Pseudo identity. And you, with the Nightwatch, I hear. I thought you might be her guide.”

  Hang on a second. I stepped forward. “You two know each other?”

  Murray looked down at me, his emerald eyes flashing in the moonlight. “We used to hang out in the same circles, yes. But that’s all you need to know, daemon-blood. I can get you into Demonica despite not technically being a crossroads daemon.”

  “Max knew where you were, and I didn’t?” Kris sounded decidedly pouty.

  Murray gave him a flat look. “You joined the fucking Watch, Kris.”

  “It paid well, and it got me the ladies.”

  Murray shook his head. “Figures. Come on, let’s get this over with. I told the girl, and now I’ll tell you—you have seventy-two hours, that’s as long as I can hold the doorway open. If you don’t make it back in time, then you’ll have to find your own way out.”

  “Got it,” Kris said.

  Murray turned to me. “What is this book they’re sending you after?”

  “Something that was stolen from the Watch in 1706. They want it back.”

  Murray frowned. “Strange, it’s been a while, but if I recall correctly, an important mystical text went missing from the Demonica central archive just after the war.”

  Coincidence? Probably not. But their missing book wasn’t my problem. I needed to get to our missing book.

  Murray walked over to the junction of the crossroads and swirled his hands in the air. “I’ll get you as close to your estate as I can.”

  The air rippled and then shimmered. The world stayed the same, but the composition of the air seemed to shift. It got heavier and fragrant like cloves and strange, exotic spices. Like the undertone to Kris’s skin.

  He held out a hand to me and one to Henri. “Hold on.”

  And then we stepped through.

  * * *

  Time and space curving and bending may have been visually pleasing with its miasma of colors, but physically, not so much. It felt as if someone was trying to tug my insides out through my nose.

  The world reappeared, and bile shot up my throat. I hit the ground, retching and gagging.

  “Shit.” Henri was beside me, gathering my hair back to stop me from puking all over it.

  “I should have warned you that might happen,” Kris said.

  I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. “You think?” I stood up, using Henri as a crutch. God, I felt like shit.

  “It’ll pass,” Kris assured me.

  “Here.” Henri pushed cool power into me, which washed away the nausea and straightened my spine.

  I took a deep breath. “Thank you.”

  Kris was scanning the terrain. We were on a hill covered in lilac grass that sloped gently down. Below, bordered by blossom-heavy woodland, was a town littered with white and blue buildings, and countless chimneys spewing emerald smoke that rose up into the air to hover in puffy green clouds.

  My breath caught in wonder. “It’s beautiful.”

  “It’s smog. It just happens to be pretty smog,” Kris said. “There, you see that dark shadow to the far east?” He pointed. “The tower?”

  I used my hand as a visor to block the sun. “I see it.”

  “That’s Mornor Estate. We’ll take the woods and come out at the estate. It’s a five-mile hike, but it shouldn’t ta
ke long.”

  “Wouldn’t it be easier to cut through the town?” Henri asked.

  “Yes, it would. About as easy as it would be to ask an assassin to slit my throat.”

  Henri pressed his lips together. “It’s been over three hundred years. Maybe you’re overestimating your popularity.”

  He snorted. “I never said anything about being popular, and that’s why we take the forest route.”

  Kris set off down the hill toward the woods.

  Henri looked down at his bare chest and sighed. “I could have worn a shirt after all.”

  * * *

  Sandals and forest floors did not go well together. Branches that liked to scratch and bare skin did not go together, and when it started to rain … well … let’s just say I didn’t mind getting wet in the shower or between the sheets, but this kind of wet sucked. At least the rain was warmish.

  But by the time we made it to the edge of Mornor Estate, my hair was plastered to my scalp and my clothes were see-through, making my quibble about wearing gauze seem pointless.

  Thank God I was wearing sturdy pants and a proper bra, not one of those lacy, check-out-my-nipples-through-the-thin-material things.

  Kris, however, was hopping along, all jaunty like, tipping his head back to the heavens, a huge smile on his face.

  Nutter.

  Henri walked beside me, raindrops skating down his chest in rivulets. His face was a mask of annoyance.

  “Hey!” I jogged to catch up with Kris, almost slipping in the muddy grass. “How much farther?”

  “Just over that rise, and then the mansion will come into view.” His eyes were bright as he turned to look at me, and then they darkened as they swept over me. “Wow.”

  My cheeks grew hot. “Keep your eyes to yourself. And your hands.”

  His throat bobbed, and his expression sobered. “Yeah. That will be a challenge.”

  I smiled sweetly at him. “I’m sure you’ll manage it, especially as the alternative is a broken nose.”

  “Neck,” Henri said as he joined us. “The alternative is a broken fucking neck.”

  That same heat. That mark of jealousy lanced through me.

  The mischievous glint returned to Kris’s eyes. “I don’t take what isn’t offered willingly. Never had the need to, but no male with a pulse could be unaffected by a soaking-wet Kat.” He looked to Henri. “I suppose that doesn’t apply to you though, does it?”

  That lance of heat again followed by the shut-down.

  “No. It doesn’t.” Henri offered Kris a jagged grin. “I’m just here to stop pulses and keep Kat safe.”

  “Which is why I agreed to let you tag along,” Kris said. “Things could get hairy, and if something happens to me—”

  “It won’t.” I touched his arm lightly. “Now, can we please get inside out of the rain?”

  We topped the rise, and the mansion stared back at us, a sprawling collection of interconnected buildings with a central tower that reached for the sky. Kris’s chest rose and fell erratically.

  He held out his hands and shouted, “Honey, I’m home.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  We stood dripping water in the huge foyer. It was all polished wood and fancy, vividly-colored paintings. A woman came hurrying into the entrance hall through a door to the left, her long dark skirts swishing by her ankles, tight bodice pushing her boobs up so they looked like they were about to spill out of her dress. She stopped abruptly at the sight of us.

  Her gaze flitted from me to Henri and settled on Kris, and then her eyes turned into saucers and she let out a piercing shriek.

  Kris bridged the distance between them and pulled the woman into a hug. He held her tight, with her face to his shoulder. Her hands fluttered at her sides as he spoke rapidly in a different language. She stilled and pulled back to look up at him before wrapping her arms around his waist and burying her face in his chest.

  They remained like that for a long beat before Kris gently extricated himself from her and turned with her to face us.

  “Mother, this is my lover, Kat, and her golem, blood-bound companion, Henri.” Kris pulled me toward him and wrapped his arm around my waist before dipping his head to kiss the spot just below my ear. The contact sent a tingle down my neck, and I resisted the urge to push him away. Instead, I focused on his mother.

  The woman looked no older than her mid-thirties, and she was his mother? She had the same mercury eyes and dark hair, though, although hers fell about her face in waves.

  “A daemon blood?” She smiled. “They are a rare breed, and we do not see many of them in Mornor. You are very welcome in our home.”

  I returned her smile. “Thank you. I’m excited to be here.”

  “And Henri. You are most welcome too.”

  Henri inclined his head in response, but Kris’s mother was looking up at her son again. “You came back. I’m so happy you came back, but you can’t stay. It’s too dangerous.”

  “I know, Mother. It’s a short visit. I have some business I must attend to, and then we’ll be gone.”

  Her mouth trembled. “I’ve missed you so much, son.”

  He cupped her cheek, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ve missed you too.”

  She drew a shuddering breath and plastered a smile on her face before turning her attention back to us.

  She raked us over, her gaze lingering appreciatively on Henri, then pulled away from her son and clapped her hands together. “Come now. We must get you into some dry clothes before you catch a chill.” She clipped toward the stairs. “Follow me.”

  She swept up the grand staircase, and Kris waved us along after her.

  “Mother, where’s Elantria?”

  “Out on some business or other, but she’ll be back for supper. She’ll be so thrilled to see you.”

  We hit the top of the staircase and followed the regal figure of Kris’s mother down a plush carpeted landing into an uncarpeted corridor. Old-style chandeliers hung from the ceiling, and there were electrical ports on the wall. So, they had electricity even though Demonica was steam-powered, which led me to believe they had to have a steam-powered electrical generator somewhere in the town.

  Kris’s mother stopped at a door. “I’ll have your room aired out for you later, love.” She pushed open the door. “Your clothes are still in the wardrobe. Your companion can have her pick from the clothes in the adjoining room where she’ll be sleeping.” She smiled up at Henri then looked back to me. “And your blood-bound? Do you prefer to have him with you?”

  I’d shared a room with Henri at Ravensheart, but things had been different then. These feelings hadn’t been there, but if I said no now, it would send the wrong message to Henri. Or the right one, as the case might be. Fuck.

  “I stay with Kat,” Henri answered for me.

  She nodded and indicated the door farther up from Kris’s room. “Make yourselves comfortable. I’ll have Lissa bring you up some tea. There should be some clothes in the armoire for your blood-bound that will serve well.” She focused on Kris. “And you, my dear … we have so much to talk about.”

  Kris nodded in our direction. “I’ll see you both at supper.” He entered his room with his mother close behind.

  It looked like we’d been dismissed.

  * * *

  I changed in the washroom while Henri dried off in the main room. He’d lit a fire, and I couldn’t wait to get in front of it. At least the clothes I’d found were less skimpy. A long, flowing skirt with a slit up one side, and a see-through, long-sleeved black blouse that was off the shoulder. There was still a lot of skin on display, but nowhere near as much as before.

  I knocked on the inside of the washroom door. “You decent?”

  “Yes.”

  I entered to find Henri crouched by the fire poking it with the metal poker. The trousers he’d found were form-fitting, and damn, he had the perfect ass. I cleared my throat. He looked up, and his blue eyes darkened. He stood, wiping his palms on his thighs. Suc
h a human gesture. As if he was nervous, as if he was real.

  He had a soul.

  I touched the talisman around my neck. I needed Tris to ground me. To stop the inappropriate thoughts that were going through my mind right now. Fuck. Look at him.

  The tunic he wore was cream and see-through with a deep V down the front, so his breastbone and most of his pectorals were exposed. My hands itched to touch him. To explore his body, suddenly so fascinating to me.

  Heat bloomed in my veins, slow and sluggish. His heat. His desire. It had to be. I raised my gaze to his face, to his parted mouth.

  He took a step toward me and checked himself.

  My body was an elastic band that had been stretched too far, that was about to snap and propel itself at him. The tension thrummed between us, intensifying as the heat in my limbs spread.

  I sucked in a breath as it reached the apex of my thighs and settled there like an intimate caress.

  “Henri …”

  The sharp rap on the door shattered the moment, and the heat snapped off.

  “Come in.” Henri’s voice was gruff, almost angry.

  He turned back to the fire as the door opened, and a diminutive woman shuffled in carrying a huge silver tray.

  “Ma’am?” She looked wary.

  “Oh, um, just put it on the table.”

  She slid the tray onto the table and then backed out of the room, shutting the door behind her.

  Henri kept his back to me. He hated this. He didn’t want this connection.

  I plastered a smile on my face. “Want to sit here and pretend to drink tea with me?” My tone was light, and his shoulders relaxed.

  “I think I’ll go for a walk,” he said.

  I bit back my disappointment. “Good idea. Scope out the place.”

  “Yeah.”

  He didn’t even look at me. He strode to the door and then out of the room.

  Damn it. What the fuck was happening between us? I ran a hand over my face. It didn’t matter. It couldn’t. I poured some tea into a fragile-looking cup and sat down.

 

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