by Vivi Anna
“That helps a little.” She returned his smile.
They were silent for another half hour as Daeva got them back onto the main road. So far, they hadn’t been followed by the Cabal.
A yawn escaped her lips as she put the car on cruise control. She was tired, which was a new sensation. Normally she could go for days without having to rest, but obviously being out and being human-ish made her body desire rest and recuperation time.
Yawning again, she tried to hide it behind a hand, but Quinn noticed.
“You need to rest.”
She shook her head. “No, I’m sure it’s just a strange reaction to being topside.”
“Daeva, you need to sleep. It’ll help you heal.”
“Yeah, but aren’t you tired?”
“I can go another five hours.” He pointed to a rest stop. “Pull over there, and we can switch.”
She did, and she moved into the passenger seat as Quinn took up as the driver. When they were back on the road, she rested her head against the glass of the window. Her eyes were heavy, and eventually they drooped. Then, for the first time in years, she drifted off to sleep and dreamed.
The sunlight streamed in through the kitchen window and played across Quinn’s face as he grated parmesan cheese. He was smiling and there was a little dimple in his right cheek.
She couldn’t resist. Daeva reached up and smoothed her finger over it. “So damn cute.”
That had him smiling harder, and he took her hand in his and pressed his lips to her fingertips. “I can’t finish this if you keep touching me.”
She got up from the stool she’d been sitting on at the kitchen island and came up behind him, wrapping her arms around his chest. She splayed her fingers over the hard muscular plane.
“Then don’t finish.”
He chuckled. “I thought you were hungry.”
“Just for you.” She nibbled on his shoulder, her favorite spot.
He dropped the grater, spun and grabbed her around the buttocks. He lifted her and set her down right next to the cheese he’d been grating.
“Spaghetti Bolognese is so overrated anyway,” he said as he nibbled on her chin.
“I totally agree.”
She wrapped her hands in his hair as he took her mouth. It didn’t matter how many times he’d kissed her before, it still sent jolts of pleasure zinging through her. He was skilled with his tongue and teeth and lips, making her head spin.
He ran his hands through her hair, then down her back, pressing her close. He nuzzled into her ear and spoke the words she’d been longing to hear.
“I love you.”
She pulled his head back and looked into his face. “I love you, too,” she answered back with the same words, words she’d never spoken to another in her entire life. She kissed him hard, her love for him overwhelming her completely.
With clever fingers, he had her skirt pushed up and her panties off before she took another breath. Laughing, she wrapped her legs around his waist.
“You’re a naughty boy, Quinn Strom,” she panted as she nuzzled into him.
“You don’t know the half of it.”
Then he was buried deep inside her.
Daeva jolted awake, hitting her head on the passenger side window. She sat up and wiped at her chin. Drool had dribbled there.
She stretched out her neck, then glanced over at Quinn. He was looking at her funny.
“What?”
“Were you dreaming?”
She frowned. “Why?”
“No reason.” He put his attention back on the road.
Had she talked in her sleep? The dream had felt so real, she wouldn’t have been surprised if she had said something out loud. Anyway, it wasn’t so much a dream as it was a memory. That had been when Quinn had asked her to move in with him—after they’d had sex in the kitchen, eaten dinner, then made love later in bed with wine and candlelight.
It had been one of the happiest moments of her life.
When she’d come topside to live a life, she’d never, ever expected to fall in love. All she’d wanted to do was live a normal life as a human. She’d been lucky to have found Rachel near death in a coma. Daeva had been able to give her body another chance to live. Rachel’s mind had been damaged, enough that she never regained consciousness, so Daeva didn’t have to quiet her when she moved in. Falling for Quinn had been an unexpected but pleasant surprise.
Daeva stretched her legs and looked out at the dark road. “Where are we?”
“Somewhere in Oregon. I got off the interstate just in case we’re still being followed.”
She watched his profile, searching for the dimple she knew was there. He yawned and rubbed at his eyes.
“Why don’t I drive for a while? You look tired.”
“How’s your shoulder?”
She tested it by rotating her arm. There was still a deep ache but it was nothing compared to the pain before. “It’s good.”
“Good.” He yawned again. “There’s a rest stop just ahead. We can switch there.”
At the turnoff, he pulled over. They switched duties, Quinn opting for the back seat to stretch out in.
Daeva pulled out onto the road and set the cruise control. She turned on the radio, quickly finding a station. The first beats of “Viva Las Vegas” came out of the speakers.
She chuckled.
“What?” Quinn asked from the backseat.
“I was just thinking about that time we did a road trip to Vegas and you kept playing this song over and over again.”
He was silent for a moment and she thought maybe he didn’t hear her, or maybe he didn’t want to answer, but then he said, “I remember.”
“I got so sick of that song that...”
“You threw the CD out the window while we were on the interstate.”
“Yeah.” She laughed. “I thought you were going to get mad but instead you slid in another annoying CD.”
“Johnny Cash.”
She shook her head, still laughing. “I never could understand your love of fifties music.”
He was silent after that. She glanced in the rearview mirror and saw that his eyes were closed. She watched him off and on for a few minutes as his chest rose and fell steadily. He was asleep.
Smiling to herself, she turned up the volume a little and started to sing along to the song.
Chapter 10
As he slept, Quinn dreamed about the first time he’d seen Daeva. She’d been Rachel at the time but that didn’t make her any less potent. He’d been on a job and she’d been the right girl at the wrong time.
Friday night the Shark Club was bursting at the seams with people. Quinn sat at the bar nursing a soda water and lime as he surveyed the crowd for his quarry. Not a demon this time, but a sorcerer named Todd who liked to call demons to do his dirty work. The sorcerer was part of the Crimson Hall Cabal and a badass. Or so he thought. Quinn had dealt with the guy before, so he knew who to watch for and what to watch for. The sorcerer liked to pick up drunk women; blondes were his favorite flavor. And there was a smorgasbord available in this club.
Quinn didn’t have to wait too long before he spied the sorcerer cozying up to a table of ladies, two of them blonde, the others a brunette and a redhead. The sorcerer pulled up a chair and sat down. Luckily his back was to the room, so Quinn would have the advantage of stealth. He could sneak up on his quarry and take the sorcerer by surprise, hopefully avoiding anyone getting in the way or getting hurt.
Leaving his soda at the bar, Quinn pushed through the crowd toward the table. When he reached it, Todd was leaning toward one blonde, whispering something into her ear. She didn’t look all that impressed.
Quinn put his hand on Todd’s shoulder and bent down to speak quietly. “Let’s go outside for a little talk.”
Todd flinched and quickly glanced back at Quinn. In an instant, recognition filled his eyes. And he reacted.
Pushing to his feet, he swung an arm and backhanded Quinn across the face. It
was a hard hit, intensified by the telltale glow of magic. A jolt sang down Quinn’s body, making his knees ineffectual. He dropped to the floor, the back of his head making a resonating smack on the hardwood.
Black dots clouded his vision. He blinked them back. When he could finally see clearly, a slim hand came into view. He looked past it to the owner and lost his breath all over again.
She smiled down at him. “Need a hand up?”
She was radiant, with long blond hair that flowed around her pale face like sunshine. Her eyes were a piercing blue that speared him to the core. Her smile was genuine and full of good humor.
He let her pull him up. When they were face-to-face, her tantalizing scent filled his nose. Every part of his body responded to it. He had yet to relinquish his hold on her hand.
“You might have a bruise in the morning.” She lightly brushed his cheek with her fingertips. An electrifying jolt sizzled down his spine.
All thoughts of Todd drained from his mind. This woman had taken up the space.
“Can I buy you a drink?” he asked her.
“No, but you can buy me breakfast in the morning. I’m already starving.” She tugged on his hand and together they left the club.
That had been the beginning of a three-year love affair that Quinn still ached for.
*
“Quinn?” A hand touched his leg and he jolted awake.
Blinking back sleep, he looked at that slim hand then up at those devastating eyes. So much the same. But different.
“What?” Sitting up, he rubbed at his face, trying to brush off the remnants of his vivid dream. So vivid that her scent was still caught in his nostrils. “Are we close to the border?”
“No, not really.”
He looked out the window and saw the pancake house that was connected to a motel. “Why are we stopped here?”
“Because I need me some pancakes with strawberries and whipped cream. And I thought we could both use the rest. We could get a room with one of those Magic Fingers beds.”
She turned off the car.
He sighed, exasperation filling him. “We don’t have time for this, Daeva.”
“We’re off the grid. The Cabal doesn’t know where we are.” She opened the door. “And I’m pretty sure you’d just about kill for some stuffed French toast.” She got out of the car, slamming the door shut on any argument he could give.
His stomach grumbled. He could eat. And stuffed French toast was, indeed, his favorite. It figured that she would remember that and then throw it in his face.
He opened the door and followed her into the restaurant.
Once they were seated and had ordered, Quinn relaxed a little. The smell of coffee, butter and grease always filled him with a sense of the familiar. He and his dad, and sometimes Ivy, often used a place like this as a meeting place during a hunt. Or as the place they went to celebrate after a successful one.
He’d taken Daeva, when she’d been Rachel, to one of these for their first breakfast date. She’d had pancakes with strawberries and whipped cream.
Quinn played with the salt and pepper shakers as they waited for their food.
“So, how’s Ronan?”
His fingers stilled. “You know Ronan?”
“Yeah, he used to call me all the time.”
“Did he?”
“Yup.” She leaned on the table. “You’re not jealous, are you?”
“Of course not,” he sputtered. “Besides, Ronan is with Ivy now.”
Her eyes widened. “Really? Well, I guess I should have seen that coming. They seemed pretty cozy last time I saw them.”
“When did you see them?”
“During all that trouble in Sumner that went on.”
“You knew about that?”
“Honey, everyone knew about that little war. It was the talk of the town for weeks down under.” She picked at her napkin. “Ronan summoned me to help him find a demon that needed killing.”
“That was nice of you.”
“Yeah, I thought so.”
Quinn had tried to put Sumner behind him. He still blamed himself for what happened. If he hadn’t been hiding out in that small town, demons wouldn’t have come looking for him, and they wouldn’t have possessed a lot of the townfolk and pitted neighbor against neighbor in a bloody war for his head. He’d seen a lot of people die in that town. Strangers and friends.
The waitress arrived with their food. Before she even left the table, Daeva was chowing down.
“I’m so hungry. Who knew being bound to the Earth made a demon so darn hungry all the time?”
A spot of strawberry juice dotted the side of her full mouth as she chewed. He had to fight the urge to reach across the table and wipe it away with the pad of his thumb. Instead, he put his attention onto consuming his delicious French toast without seeming like a glutton.
He tried to avoid looking at her while she ate. Her face was all lit up with delight as she devoured her pancakes. She licked her fork after each bite, gathering every bit of syrup and strawberry sauce she could get. It reminded him a bit of a child discovering candy or chocolate for the first time. A look of pure joy.
When his lips threatened to twitch upward into a smile, he grabbed his coffee and drank.
She set her fork down and, leaning back in the booth, sighed contentedly. “That was better than I remembered.”
“Can’t get pancakes in hell?”
“Nope. The goblins have no concept of light and fluffy. Or sweet, for that matter.” She wiped her face with the napkin. “Now I need a nap.”
“We should really press on.”
She shook her head. “I can’t. I need to heal, Quinn.” She moved her shoulder and he could see the pain on her face. “I’m no good to you if I’m not one hundred percent. If we get attacked again, I can’t guarantee I can save your life.”
He sighed and pushed his plate away.
“Besides, you could use the sleep, as well. It doesn’t look like you’ve slept in days.”
After paying the bill, they made their way over to the motel office to rent a room. The moment Quinn unlocked the door to their ground-floor abode, Daeva stumbled in, shuffled to the bed and collapsed on top of it. She reached behind her, grabbed the blanket and flipped it over her body. Tucking one hand under her chin, she closed her eyes.
“Got any change for the Magic Fingers?” she mumbled sleepily.
After setting the bags on the table, he dug into his pants pocket and came away with a few coins. He flipped them to her.
She snatched them out of the air without even opening her eyes.
“Cool trick.”
She smiled, then opened her eyes to slide the money into the metal box on the side table. “I have my moments.”
The massager kicked in and jiggled the bed violently. Daeva groaned. “Now, that’s what I’m talking about.”
Quinn pulled a chair up to the table, sat and rummaged through his bag for his knives and whetstone. He thought he might as well make use of the wasted time to prepare for the next leg of their journey. He needed to keep his wits and hone his weapons. Who knew what they would come up against? More sorcerers, certainly, but he wouldn’t be surprised if they also came up against demons.
Unfortunately he didn’t know anyone he could call to help them. A lot of hunters he knew were dead, some killed in the war in Sumner, and others were entangled with their own demons, literally and figuratively. Alcoholism was an epidemic in his line of work.
He glanced at Daeva and wondered if she would fight against her own. Did she harbor any loyalty for her own kind? Did she have family? Friends?
“What’s it like in hell?” he asked, before he could think better of it.
She opened her eyes and stared at him. “Are you asking to bother me so I can’t sleep, or do you really want to know?”
“I want to know.”
Tucking the blanket tighter over her shoulder, she closed her eyes again. At first, Quinn thought she wasn’t going
to answer him, but then she started to talk.
“The stories of fire and brimstone are true. Everything stinks to high heaven of sulfur. It’s always hot in the honeycomb.”
“The honeycomb?”
“Yeah, it’s shaped like that. Many levels that open up to the center, which is the fiery pit. The place where souls are tortured for an eternity. Doesn’t matter where you go, that’s always there. It’s a daily reminder that hell exists. You can smell the burned flesh and hear the strangled cries of tortured souls 24/7.” She shuddered under the blanket.
“I can’t imagine.”
“No. You can’t.”
“Do you have your own...ah, place?”
“Yes, it’s like a small apartment. I have a few luxuries, like books, and my goblin friends Loir and her brother Klix. They take care of me. I’m luckier than most because of my level two status. Most demons, those in the lower levels, live in squalor, in dormitories, I guess you’d call them. All scrambling for scraps of food and comfort.
“It’s what I see and hear every day that torments me, though. The stench of burning flesh and the screams of the damned can really get to a girl, you know? Thankfully I’m not forced to participate anymore. I did my time in the pits.”
He stared at her, unsure of what to say. He had no idea what it was truly like in hell. There had always been stories, he’d even heard some accounts from other hunters, but obviously those had been lies. He wasn’t sure exactly what he thought demons did in hell, but he certainly never thought of it like a prison for them. The souls that were condemned there certainly, but not its residents.
She opened her eyes and he witnessed the horror in them. “Now you know why I would do anything not to be in that...hell.” She rolled over on the bed, wrapping herself tightly in the blanket like a cocoon. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to sleep.”
He watched her for a few minutes more before setting his blade and whetstone on the table, then standing. He had to get some air. The room had gotten progressively stifling and uncomfortable as she talked. He was having trouble breathing.
Sliding a knife into his belt sheath, he grabbed the key and left, shutting the door quietly behind him. Just outside, he took in some deep breaths of the fresh, untainted air.