Kiss at Your Own Risk

by Stephanie Rowe

  “Shut the hell up.” He slammed his mouth down over hers and started to kiss her.

  Chapter 15

  Trinity started to laugh the minute Blaine’s lips touched hers. How could she even think about a little lip locking when they were hanging from ladder rungs with a dung beetle posse on their tails—

  His hand clamped down over her breast, and he pinned her back against the ladder. Oh, hello. Okay, so the aggressive male thing was kind of hot, but still… creepy crawlies coming up toward—

  He fisted her hair and angled her head for deeper penetration. Relentless. Thorough. And yeah… the word penetrating kept whizzing around in her head. Not sure why that particular word needed to be surfacing—

  He grabbed her hand and slammed it down on the front of his pants. Either he’d packed a stale Twinkie in his jeans or he was not having any problem getting hot and bothered on a fire escape with deadly nasties down below.

  Hmm… kinda liking this… It wasn’t every day a girl had the chance to affirm her sexiness by successfully turning a man on in a completely non-intimate setting. Especially a girl who had spent every day since puberty doing her best not to turn anyone on, including herself.

  But yeah, baby, hot warrior was digging her. And that got her a little bit fired up. Made her curious to see what else she could manage… She threw one hand around his neck and palmed the Hostess dessert through his jeans, giving it a friendly little massage. You know, just to work the kinks out. The ding-dong twitched in response to her exploration.

  Oh, yeah. She was hot.

  Blaine released her hand to its own creativity and slid his palm around over her butt and toward her inner thigh. He broke the kiss and worked his way down her collarbone. Girly gasp of pleasure when he hit that spot. Then his mouth was lower, on the swell of her breast, his other hand working its magic on the seam of her jeans, the one that went right between her legs—

  Hot tamale pleasure shot through her and she gripped the front of his pants tighter. He groaned and then he was kissing her so hard, so deep. And then all she cared about was the heat of his body against hers, the hard swell of his muscles under her hands, the way he had her pinned against the ladder, the feel of her blood throbbing at the junction of her thighs—

  He ripped his mouth off hers and shoved her back against the ladder. His eyes were dark, and his jaw hard. “Next time we’re alone, the clothes are getting ditched.”

  She nodded vigorously. “Yeah, okay, sure.”

  He grinned, then kissed her again, so deep she was sure that they were going to lose track of whose tongue belonged to whom. Which would be fine. She was down with taking hours to figure it out—

  He broke the kiss. “Do the spider thing, and do it fast, because I need to get you alone and naked as soon as humanly possible, or we’re going to be hanging it all out right here on this ladder.” His voice was low and all growly, and every single girly cell in her body stood up and cheered for the promise he was throwing her way.

  “I always liked ladders.” Which was the silliest thing ever to say, because she’d never even thought about ladders one way or another. But the thought of letting it all hang out on this one… yeah… ladder love.

  He cupped the back of her head, and his grip was tight. “You hot enough now?”

  She gave a vague nod. “Yeah, pretty sure.”

  “Then let’s do it.” He wrapped his arm around her waist, securing her against him in a take-charge-kind-of-way. “I’ve got you.”

  She didn’t bother to thank him, or to enjoy it. She just leaned down and looked below. “Good lord, how long were we kissing?”

  Cockroach hotel had gone out of business, and in its place was an eight-foot-tall T-rex/dragon/demon mutant with pink hair and a “Pirates for Peace” T-shirt. Jarvis and Nigel were hanging on the bottom rung of the ladder, engaging in some serious hand-to-hand (aka knife-sword-claw) combat. But the thing was getting bigger, and bleeding way less than the men.

  Blaine threw a small blue ball down at the creature. A bank shot off Jarvis’s sword sent it right down the gullet. For a split second, nothing happened, except Jarvis raised his sword and it began to glow and hum like a horde of fireflies had descended on them.

  And then there was a faint noise, like an explosion had gone off somewhere in the distance. Smoke began to fan out of the creature’s ears, and the three warriors tensed.

  “What was that?” she asked.

  “Blue ball. Took a chance using it this close to us, but nothing else is working—”

  The monster opened its mouth, and Trinity could see a blue fire raging in its throat. Then it let out a loud noise, and the scent of rotting human flesh drifted up to them (not that she’d ever had the pleasure of such olfactory treats before, but given the monster’s dining tendencies and the fact that it smelled like the rat that had died in her wall and decayed last summer, she was standing behind her rotting human flesh assessment).

  “All you did was make it burp?” Jarvis swore. “We’re fucked, guys. And not in the good way.”

  They were in trouble? Big tough warriors? What kind of awful demise had all its other victims faced? The ones with no defenses? Anger began to surge inside Trinity at the thought of the hell those poor people had endured, and her vision became blanketed with spots of red. Blaine gripped her tighter, and he splayed his hand over her lower abdomen. “Yeah, that’s right,” he whispered. “Get pissed.”

  The dark alley began to brighten, and she felt the heat from Blaine’s body kick up, like she was wrapped up next to a bowl of oatmeal that had been overheated in the microwave. You know, when you grabbed the bowl, burned your hand, and dropped it so it shattered and spewed oatmeal all over the floor? Yeah, that hot.

  A buzzing sound filled her ears, and she smiled. It was coming.

  “No more killing sweet things,” she shouted down at it. “You get to go visit Reina!”

  “I’m already here, girl!”

  Trinity looked up to see Reina standing on the rooftop. Her friend waved cheerfully. “There’s some near death going on here, so my boss sent me. Don’t let it be you, sweetie.”

  At the sight of her best friend’s smile, strength coursed through Trinity. Yeah, she could so do this. A sense of calm settled over her. A feeling of rightness. This thing did need to be stopped, regardless of her dad, and she could do it.

  Rock on! Spider power, all day long.

  Light began to reflect around the creature, and she concentrated harder—

  The creature slashed Jarvis’s arm, and he swore.

  “Ignore him.” Blaine’s voice was low in her ear. “He’s fine. Just focus on the monster. Tell me how to kill it.”

  Trinity fought not to notice Jarvis slipping off the ladder, Nigel jumping down beside him, dragging him back as the oversized rabid brownie closed in on them. She just concentrated on the prism glowing more brightly. The light began to refract and a form began to take shape. “I’m getting it!”

  Blaine palmed her belly more tightly. “I can see the hologram.”

  The figure was holding a sword. One that looked familiar… She glanced down at Jarvis as he whipped his weapon over his head, churning up the energy field, creating a whirlwind to confuse the monster. Same jewels in the handle, same writing on the blade. “Jarvis’s sword,” she said. “That’s how to do it.”

  Blaine nodded. “Keep going.” He threw another blue ball down there, and this time Jarvis rebounded it into the creature’s nose. The explosion blew green monster snot all over Jarvis and Nigel. “Come on, Trin.”

  Trinity focused again, and the prism became clearer. It was a woman.

  Blaine swore. “That’s you.”

  “Me?” Trinity looked closer and realized he was right. “It’s never been that specific before.”

  The holographic Trinity moved toward the monster, and she was carrying Jarvis’s sword. The holographic badass went to eat her, and the Trinity-the-prism threw herself into the monster’s mouth (hello???? e
ven holograms should have heard of self-preservation) with the sword. Then there was a roar, and the monster in the hologram convulsed, turned back into a man, and then fell to the ground. He twitched a few times for good measure, and then was still.

  Trinity waited.

  Blaine waited.

  Trinity the savior never reappeared.

  Suicide stabber mission, anyone?

  “Huh.” Blaine leaned his chin on her head. “Does that mean you have to be the one to hit it, and you’ll die doing it?”

  “I think so.” Trinity nodded. “So, yeah, not really liking that option.”

  Blaine adjusted his grip on her. “Look again. Find another way.”

  “Hey!” Nigel shouted from below. He and Jarvis were pinned in the corner, covered in green snot, and the monster was looking a little too hungry. “Either kill the thing, or we’re going for pizza and a beer.”

  “Hey, guys,” Reina called down. “I’m seeing a couple dead warriors soon if you don’t get out. It’s not going to be the big creepy tentacle thing tonight.”

  Trinity looked up and saw Reina’s eyes had gone gold and black, and she was looking at Nigel and Jarvis as if they were a double fudge caramel brownie with homemade ice cream on top. “She’s telling the truth. Jarvis and Nigel are about to die.”

  “We need to regroup,” Blaine yelled down. “I’m sending you guys up here. Hang tight.”

  Jarvis began to set his sword whirling, and he and Nigel hunkered down behind it. Blaine’s chest caught fire. (Bizarre and cool at the same time. A little freaky.) Then he grabbed the fire out of his heart, tossed it around in his hand like he was prepping a snowball, then he hurled it at his two buddies.

  The explosion hit beneath their feet and blew them straight into the air. The two warriors thudded down on the roof above Trinity and Blaine, behind Reina.

  Blaine grabbed Trinity and then hauled ass up the ladder. He caught up with his buddies, and then they were all sprinting across the rooftops. The roar of the monster’s outrage echoed through the night, and Trinity glanced over her shoulder in time to see an orange light glowing from the alley they’d just been in. Then the creature shot up into the air and landed on top of the roof.

  It was a four-legged demon dog now, crouched like it was ready to launch itself at them.

  “A dog again?” Jarvis muttered. “I gotta say, I’m kinda tired of the canine thing right now. I’m getting a goldfish.”

  Up ahead, Trinity noticed a wide gap between the buildings, and she tensed as they neared it. “I can’t jump that far—”

  Blaine grabbed her and hauled her across the abyss easily, while the other two warriors leapt over it like it was a puddle. Reina disappeared and reappeared on the other side in a flash of black light. “It’s coming for you guys,” Reina warned.

  The giant mutt was leaping from building to building, like a slathering ping-pong ball with matted fur and horns. It opened its mouth and a loud roar filled the night.

  “On the next jump,” Nigel said, “you two go south, and Jarvis and I will draw it away.”

  Trinity shook her head. “It almost killed you before.”

  “Have a little faith, woman. We let it box us in to keep it in one place.” Jarvis was grinning, looking delighted to be prey. “Now we’ve got the city to play in. It’ll never catch us. It’ll be fun to fight in the wide open. Haven’t been able to do that before.”

  Nigel whipped out a headband and strapped it around his head. It had a lovely floral lake scene painted on it, with a black wolf peering out from behind a tree. “It’ll be a kick,” Nigel agreed. “We’ll try some new tactics on it.”

  “Gap up ahead,” Blaine said. “Splitting off in five.”

  Reina was running as hard as the rest of them, and her eyes were still black. “Sorry, Trin, but I need to stick with the guys. I’ve been assigned to stay with them until the death threat is over. You good?”

  “Yeah, okay. I’m fine. Do what you need to do.” And then they were at the edge of the roof. Trinity glanced down and saw the street far below. “Oh, man—”

  Nigel and Jarvis vaulted easily across the gap, but Blaine simply wrapped his arms around her and stepped off, allowing them to plummet straight toward the asphalt.

  Chapter 16

  Angelica was in full panic mode by the time she skidded around the corner and finally found the entrance to the Hotel of Love and Healing. She was definitely going to have to start periodically reviewing her maps to make sure she knew how to get to all areas of her kingdom, even if she never thought she’d need to get there.

  It wasn’t like she was going to go visit the warriors who were recovering. She knew seeing her face wasn’t going to help their healing. And yes, it bothered her that they didn’t feel her love, but whatever. She wasn’t doing it for them. She was doing it for her girls.

  She charged up the steps, completely impressed at how well she was running in her stilettos. Her agility with the spikes might be her naturally exceptional balance and athletic ability. But it might also have something to do with the fact that she was pretty close to a complete mental implosion thanks to a visit from the certain oversexed underperformer who had deflowered her.

  No telling how long he’d wait before he figured out that her trip to the bathroom to freshen up for some lovemaking had been a complete lie to cover up her frantic dash to get help.

  She threw open the door of the Hotel, and then skidded to a stop, shielding her eyes against the suddenly blinding light. By all that was unwelcoming and soulsucking, where was she?

  She backpedaled quickly, checked the sign by the door. Hotel of Love and Healing. Right place. But where were the dank stone walls? The mind-numbing dripping water in the corner? The metal bunks without any blankets, and the overly permeating scent of mold and decay? Gone was the dungeon-like atmosphere she’d paid a fortune to an architect to design and even more to a builder to construct (it was before the days where her magic skill could have adequately created the doom, depression, and sense of hopelessness that the Hotel had to have in order to motivate the men to recover and get back to their canopy beds and flower comforters). Like utterly vamoose.

  Heavy plaid curtains decorated the windows that didn’t (shouldn’t) exist. King-sized beds with navy quilts lined the circumference of the vast room. Beautiful mahogany desks were beside each bed, and a massive flat screen television was artfully mounted on the dark wood footboard of every bed. All the patients were wearing the bottoms only of dark and masculine pajamas, and a couple just had boxers on. And none of them were leopard print!

  There was a bar at the end of the room, and one of her girls was pouring beer into a beautiful stein Angelica recognized as coming from her own kitchen. The sound of rap music was beating through the speakers, and it didn’t quite mask the sound of tweeting whistles and the thud of football players tackling each other coming from the televisions. Another tweet, and then a collective groan went through the room, and one of the warriors swore. “Throw another damned interception, why don’t you?”

  Angelica set her hands on her hips. “What is this? I—”

  “Burgers are ready!”

  Angelica turned around. A commercial-sized barbecue grill was built into the wall and one of her girls was hoisting a tray filled with burgers that smelled absolutely fantastic. Angelica never bothered to eat, because magic could give her all the nourishment she needed, but hello? How good did those look? “I’ll take one.”

  She snatched a burger off the tray. The girl holding them saw Angelica, and her face went sheet white. The music suddenly shut off, chatter stopped, and the only sound in the room was the thud of football players crashing into each other.

  She took a big bite—Sweet Juicy Decadence! She was so starting to eat again—and then faced the room.

  Ten guilty female faces and fifteen warriors had gone utterly still. Three of the men were on their feet, looking all too spry, and the others were still in their beds. But alert. Ready. Tense. />
  Little children caught with their hands in the cookie jar.

  It reminded her of the day she’d walked into the basement and found Prentiss with his stack of girlie magazines when he was nine. His look of utter horror, and that possessiveness as he slid them behind his back and jutted his jaw out, daring her to steal them. His cheeks had been flaming red, and he hadn’t been able to look her in the eye.

  It had been so cute that she’d just let him keep them.

  Maybe that was why he’d become such a womanizing letch. Maybe if she’d done her job three hundred years ago, Prentiss would be wearing white and hauling souls up to heaven, instead of having a monopoly on all things decadent, irreverent, misogynistic, and utterly deplorable.

  “This was my idea.” Mari stepped forward. Her face was pale, and her voice was quavering. But her hands were fisted. “Our death rate has gone down seventy-three percent since we redecorated.”

  Angelica folded her arms over her chest. Dear Goddess of Sexual Stimulation and Lust, the number of things wrong with this scenario were mind-boggling. But she was really liking Mari’s attitude. Her willingness to stand up and to save lives. That was what she’d come looking for tonight. “Come with me, my dear.”

  No one else in the room moved, and Angelica had to keep from biting her lip at the look of fear on everyone’s faces. How delightful to feel like such a tyrant. So good for the ego, especially mere minutes after being reduced to a quivering ball of subservience by an overgrown lout. She beamed at them. “Thank you all. I appreciate it.”

  None of them reacted. Too terrified.

  On a regular day, she’d feel a little bit regretful that her relationship had to be one of domination and cruelty when she loved them so much, but right now, she needed an ego boost as much as Blaine needed cross-stitching. And that was saying a lot.