by Larissa Ione
He turned away again, and she grabbed his arm—the right one, protected by his thick leather coat. “Lore? Tell me.”
“Yeah, okay? Do you have any idea what it’s like to watch your partner drop dead because you got off? No,” he said nastily, “I’m guessing you don’t.”
“But if you wear a sleeve and glove—”
“When I climax, my power punches right through it.”
She thought about how he’d stroked himself to completion over her and realized that he’d pinned her legs between his and held himself away from her—to keep her from thrashing and accidentally touching his arm when he came.
“Have you ever been with a woman safely?”
He swallowed, and now probably wasn’t the time to notice how sexy his throat was as the muscles worked beneath his tan skin, but whoa. “Just once. A long time ago.”
“Did you love her?”
He snorted. “I didn’t know her name. She blew me in an alley while I braced my arms above my head against a building.”
“Oh.” She could have gone all day without knowing that.
“You disgusted now? Because I am. Not because I paid some whore for sex, but because I was so fucking lonely that I risked killing her. I told you, I’m a selfish piece of shit.”
It broke her heart to hear him say that, because she’d seen a lot of evidence to the contrary. “A selfish person wouldn’t have signed up to be a slave to save his sister. A selfish person wouldn’t have locked himself away from society in order to protect them. You’re not selfish. You’ve slipped, like everyone else.”
He threw the jug across the room, shattering it against the wall. “My slips kill people, Idess!”
She looked down at his scuffed hardwood floor, at the wetness spreading across it like spilled blood. “Have you ever loved anyone? Besides your sister, I mean.” Say no.
“Why the hell are we talking about this?”
“I’m curious.”
“Because this is such great pretorture talk.”
The reminder dropped a bowling ball right into the pit of her stomach. “Please,” she begged. “I have to do something to stop it. I’ll go to my father and see if Deth can be given a heart attack or something.”
“Seriously?” He cocked an eyebrow at her. “That’s what your father does?”
“Sort of. I don’t know how much pull I have with him. I haven’t seen him in centuries.”
She’d lived in Azagoth’s realm for a hundred years, right after she was pulled from her human life. She’d been Rami’s apprentice, learning the ways of the Memitim, how to flash and use her innate skills, learning the bazillions of rules. But once she was given Primori, she left the realm and hadn’t been back.
Lore reached out and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. The gentle gesture was a lover’s touch, and it triggered an ache deep inside. “I told you,” he said quietly. “I knew what I was getting into.”
Flecks of gold pierced the black of his irises, moving fluidly, like sunlight on a stream. “Why do your eyes do that?” She went on her toes to get closer, amazed by the beauty. “They were red when you were enraged, but they’re gold now.”
“They do that when I’m mildly annoyed.” His gaze intensified, somehow growing both darker and more golden, and his earthy male scent filled her nostrils. “Or aroused.”
“Which are you now?” she croaked. No sooner had the question passed her lips than her body answered with a warm, wet rush between her legs.
“Guess.” His voice was deep and gravelly, and he spun around and headed for the bedroom.
“Where are you going?”
“I’m about to be tortured,” he said, without looking back, “which will probably send me into a rage. If I don’t let off some steam before I go… it could be bad.”
“I can help,” she blurted. Part of her longed to experience the intimacy again, and part of her just wanted to do something for him. To be useful. To make up for chaining him and nearly getting him killed.
He ground to a halt at the doorway. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea. In fact, it’s a terrible idea.”
“But you want it, don’t you? You want me to be the one to ease you.”
His big body shuddered. “God, yes.” And there was that penetrating rumble that made her heart quiver in her chest. “It’s better with you.”
“Better how?” It was stupid to keep pressing, because the more she knew, the closer she got to him. Yet, some dark, wild side of her wanted that. Wanted to walk the line between love and hate and see which way she tipped.
“Are you asking to feed your ego, or are you genuinely curious about how you affect me?”
“Both, I think,” she said honestly.
The long, deep breath he took told her she’d given him the right answer. “My release is more powerful. It’s not that it feels better… I mean, it does… but I get more relief, more time before I need it again. Fuck, Idess… I can’t.”
“You didn’t have a problem letting me help you before,” she pointed out, though she did so breathlessly.
“I was chained with Bracken Cuffs the first time. I didn’t need to worry about touching you. The second time, you were restrained, so I was in control.” He rolled his broad shoulders, and the leather of his jacket strained at the seams. “I can’t risk it.”
“Not much can kill me.” She walked around him so she could look him in the eyes. “I’m not worried.”
“Then you’re a fool.”
Maintaining eye contact, she slid her palm down his arm to his gloved hand. His fingers curled around hers.
“Idess, this is stupid.” But he stepped into her, so close she could feel the heat coming off him.
Haltingly, she placed her other hand on his waist, felt the very slight tensing in his body. “I know.”
Seventeen
Idess’s words ricocheted through Lore, sucker punching him right in the soul.
You’re not selfish. You’ve slipped. Slipped. A slip could cost Idess her life.
Panic became shrink-wrap around his chest, and he released her. “No,” he croaked. “No. I can’t do this. Accidents happen.”
And no way was Idess going to be an accident. Just a few days ago, he might not have cared. But now he cared way too much.
“Lore—”
“No!” Before she could argue, he shut himself in his room. To his surprise, she didn’t barge in or even knock. She respected his privacy, and for some reason, her consideration sucker-punched him again.
Chest screaming with bond-pain and groin tight with the need she’d stirred, he paced, practically ran laps around his bedroom. He was hard and achy, but when he palmed his cock, God help him, it felt numb. His last couple of shower sessions had taken forever, but now? No matter how fast or hard he stroked, how hot the fantasy about Idess, he couldn’t get there.
Just like a purebred Seminus. Fuck.
He had no idea what was going to happen once the torture began.
As if his body was trying to prepare him, a lightning bolt of pain struck him, spreading from the bond and into every extremity. Cursing, doubled over in agony, he slipped out his window and headed to the Harrowgate.
Lore hated leaving Idess, but he had a demon to face. At least he could take comfort in the fact that Idess couldn’t flash into Sheoul. No way did he want her getting messed up in this.
The moment Lore entered the den, his bond-pain eased to a dull ache. Detharu was waiting in his chamber, looking really fucking pissed off. The foul stench of someone’s terror soured the air, so thick Lore could taste it on the back of his tongue.
“Lore,” Deth snarled. “My patience with you is at an end.”
“I can see you aren’t in the best of moods,” Lore said, reversing course. “I’ll come back later.”
Deth’s guards blocked the doorway, and Lore turned back, carefully schooling his expression to hide the fact that he knew he was in for a world of hurt.
“Where
is the female?”
“I don’t know.”
“You’re lying.”
“And you’re ugly. What’s your point?”
Deth shot out of his seat. “You will bring her to me.”
“Go fuck yourself.”
“I am going to make you suffer,” Deth snarled.
“Isn’t that why I’m here?”
“Oh, yes.” Anticipation glinted in the male’s eyes as Deth shambled toward him. “Have you killed your mark yet?”
“I still have time.” Lore studied his nails. “I’ll get to it.”
“Getting to it will be difficult, if you’re locked in my pit for a month.”
“You can’t do that.” Lore crossed his arms over his chest, still playing nonchalant. “I’m on a deadline.”
“Then you should have thought about that before you spirited away the female.”
A shiver of dread skittered up Lore’s spine. “Look,” he said calmly, even though inside he was sweating bullets, “I swear, as soon as I have Kynan’s head, I’ll submit myself for your punishment. Whatever you want.”
Deth’s steel-gloved fist nailed Lore in the jaw. Pain spiderwebbed up his face, into his skull, but he refused to show any reaction.
“You will not negotiate with me!” Deth roared. “I am going to punish you for taking the female. Right now.”
Lore snorted. “Pussy stuff.” Antagonizing Deth wasn’t the smartest move, but pain was coming no matter what, so Lore might as well get in a few jabs of his own.
This time, Deth’s blow struck him in the chest, those knuckle spikes puncturing, clawing like an eagle’s talons and snatching the breath right out of Lore’s lungs. Lore staggered back, but he managed a smile and a raspy, “Love the foreplay.”
Deth snarled, blasting Lore with his fetid breath. “Does Sin also love it?”
The demon wanted to see fear, but Lore would never give him that satisfaction. “Dunno. Probably.”
Deth got right in his face. Again with the rotten breath. “I cannot wait for you to fail your mission. I will make you watch as Sin is slaughtered. Her screams will be the music that fills this den for weeks.”
Lore’s skin grew tight, his muscles twitchy, and he was on the verge of erupting. A growl escaped as though through a relief valve. “I will kill you someday. I swear it.”
Deth laughed. Flickering flames from the fire in the hearth and torches on the walls played with the shadows on his face, twisting his expression into something even more hideous. “How many times have I heard that?” He shoved his fist into Lore’s gut and twisted so the spikes gored him viciously, ripping and tearing. “Now, will you bring the female to me?”
Pain wrenched through Lore, not all of it physical. He would never bring Idess here, and he would save Sin. Somehow, he’d protect them both.
“Fuck you,” he spat, even as he fought to stay on his feet.
Deth hissed, and the trapdoor beneath Lore gave way. After a twenty-foot drop, he made a bone-breaking landing on the wet, cold floor in the dungeon. A Nightlash female stood next to a wall of torture implements, smiling at Lore as if he were a gift.
Foreplay was over. It was time for the main event.
* * *
The sound of torture was like the sound of someone coughing during a movie. Rariel found both to be extremely irritating.
“Add an extra lash for me,” he said to Deth. Lore had seriously screwed up something Rariel would have paid to see; Idess as an assassin slave. “And make sure his life will not be endangered by this.”
Having Idess show up to protect Lore, now that he was Primori—and hadn’t that been a nasty surprise—would definitely be a bad thing. She couldn’t flash in here under normal circumstances, but Rariel didn’t want to test her ability to do so if her Primori was facing death. Though it might be worth it to see her forced into slavery as an assassin…
Deth gave an indignant snort. “My torturer is a master, trained in all arts and all species’ weaknesses. She would never accidentally kill one of her victims.”
Like Rariel hadn’t heard that before. “Just be careful. And I want his dagger. I have a special use for it.”
Deth signaled a sentry, who disappeared.
“You will have him healed after this is over?”
“I don’t like it,” Deth growled, “but since he is on a deadline for your contract, I’ll use my newly acquired Sem assassin to heal him.”
“Good.” Rariel smiled as the guard returned with Lore’s Gargantua-bone dagger.
Now, it was time to fulfill an obligation to Roag and ruin—and end—some innocent lives.
* * *
By the time Idess flashed into UG’s parking lot, she was in a full-blown panic. Lore had gotten away from her, and touching his heraldi didn’t flash her to him. Which meant he was in Sheoul. Probably being tortured. Or maybe hiding out from her down there.
At the back of an ambulance, Eidolon was loading a stretcher. When he saw her, he slammed the doors shut so hard they bounced open again. “Where is he?”
“I’m pretty sure he’s at the assassin den.”
“Pretty sure? Are you kidding me? You helped him escape, and now you’ve fucking lost him?”
“I just need help finding the den. Is Sin here?”
“Do I look like her keeper?” Eidolon dug his cell from his pocket and dialed. “Ky? Where are you? Yeah, okay. But you should know that Lore is unaccounted for—”
“He’s not unaccounted for,” Idess interrupted. “He’s at the den.” Being tortured.
Eidolon told Kynan to stay safe and flipped his phone closed. “Why can’t you find him? He’s your Primori, right? Shouldn’t you have some sort of line to him?”
“Yes, but if he’s in Sheoul, he’s invisible to me.”
“Is there any other way he’d be invisible?” When she didn’t answer, his tone plummeted right into Sheoul with Lore. “Idess?”
She huffed. “It’s possible that he could find someone to cast a shield spell on him. It’s why we don’t ever tell Primori what they are.” She’d only broken about a million rules by now, but sometimes you had to cheat to win.
Rami would slap her if he heard that particular thought. He’d always been about playing by the book. She’d always been more concerned with winning, and when it came down to a battle between good and evil, rules went out the window.
Eidolon’s curses blistered her ears.
“You know,” she snapped, “I wouldn’t force you to listen to a Bible reading, so I’d appreciate it if you’d show me the same courtesy and not curse me and my kind to hell.”
Eidolon glared, but at least he didn’t cuss at her anymore. “Idess,” he said with very forced calm, “I’ve had a really bad day, and I just watched a warg infant die of a disease I can’t cure. So excuse me if I’m a little on edge because you lost the brother I swore I’d keep from killing one of my best friends.”
“I get it,” she said softly. “And I’m sorry. I needed Lore to help me get into the Assassins’ Guild. If I can find out who hired him—”
“Did you?”
“Unfortunately, no. But I had a thought. Is it possible that all of this is about you instead of me or Kynan?”
“What, you think Lore was hired to kill Kynan just so my family would be torn apart?”
“Sounds a little thin, I realize. But it’s one heck of a coincidence. Do you have any enemies who might want that to happen?”
“We’re sex demons,” he said wryly. “We pissed off a lot of males before we took mates. And Wraith has made a career out of making enemies.”
That wasn’t very helpful. “Lore mentioned another brother. One who hired him to kill you.”
“Roag. He’s gone.”
“Gone? How?”
Eidolon shrugged. “Maluncoeur curse. He’s doomed to an invisible existence, starving, thirsty, in pain… nothing he doesn’t deserve.”
Idess shuddered. Talk about eternal torment. Wait… “He’s i
nvisible? But he’s still around?”
“I guess. But he can’t hurt anyone.”
But he could still lurk. Watch anything going on around him. Oh… oh, no. “Is it possible he’s here?”
Eidolon’s shoulders bunched with tension. “We left him in Scotland, but he could have hitched rides in the Harrowgate with other demons.”
“I think…” She inhaled a ragged breath. “I think he did exactly that. You know how I can see spirits? I’ve also seen a figure who appears transparent to me. He’s sort of…”
“Burned?”
“Yes.”
“Roag.” Eidolon’s eyes went crimson, and he buried his fist in the side of the ambulance, leaving a grapefruit-sized dent. “Son of a bitch!”
“Eidolon!” She grabbed his arm, and when he would have snatched it away from her, she jerked him around. “I took the creature out of the hospital. He’s not here right now, unless he found a way back.”
He went as still as a lamp post. “Where did you take him?”
“Phillips Court… some sort of apartment and housing complex—”
“Shade’s old place. But why would he go there?” Eidolon was talking to himself rather than her, which was good, because she didn’t know the answer. She did feel incredibly guilty, however. Finally, he shook his head. “I’ll figure it out. You need to find Lore. I’ll find Shade.”
* * *
Sin so did not want to go back to the hospital. Her brothers were asses, and the whole place gave her the creeps.
The only positive thing that had happened lately was sex with Conall and outing him for making that bet. The two-sixty she’d gotten out of it would buy her a new pair of Fae-crafted stun darts.
Except… she wouldn’t need them, would she? She was almost done with Deth, and then she could… what?
Something splashed painfully in her stomach, as if a stone had been skipped across a lake of acid. She hadn’t thought that far ahead. Since the age of twenty, she’d never been free, unowned, and she had no idea what she was supposed to do with herself if she suddenly had no orders.