by Sidney Ayers
“Stay still.”
“I’m trying,” she replied, her grin wide.
“Don’t try to tempt me, Lucy.” His breath, hot and heavy, inched along her cheek and to her ear. Shivers of excitement jolted through her body. “You might not like what you get.”
Like hell she wouldn’t. Her breath hitched. The energy crackling through her body must’ve jumbled all thought and speech processes. “I doubt that,” she managed with a squeak. Ugh, not that stupid squeak again.
“I love that squeak,” Rafe said. “Especially when I first stepped into your shop.” He shook his head, doubt clouding his eyes. “You’ve entranced me beyond words.”
She couldn’t control herself any longer. Without hesitation, she opened her eyes, wrapped her arms around Rafe’s neck and laced her fingers through his hair. They were going to kiss again. Outside her mom’s house, nonetheless. In broad daylight. She trained her gaze toward the garage. Her mom’s snow-white, gas-guzzling Cadillac Escalade sat big and proud in the driveway, glinting in the afternoon sun.
Ooh! Mom was home! Talk about living dangerously.
What would the neighbors think?
Screw the neighbors, her inner sexy self whispered. She was beginning to like this inner demon.
She grabbed on to his hair, her grip tight, and pulled his face to hers. “The feeling is mutual,” she said, grinding her lips against his. Pure molten fire coursed through her veins, the energy erupting inside like a volcano. Swirling her tongue hungrily against his firm lips, she prodded them open.
She’d never felt such intensity with any man ever in her almost thirty years. Her heart hammered in her chest. And that taste! Peppermint and musky spices exploded in her mouth as his tongue swirled against hers.
“Mmm,” she murmured against his lips. With wanton daring, she took his lower lip into her mouth and sucked. That wasn’t enough. She wanted more. Nibbling gently, she crushed herself against him. Her nipples hard enough to bust through her bra, she rubbed her breasts against his leather clad chest. How she wished they were in her bedroom, in her bed, and of course naked.
Windows fogged up around us. Like Titanic. She was Rose and he was Jack. All that was missing was her handprint on the window. Oh, and they weren’t in that Model T, either. Too bad she wasn’t born twenty years earlier. She would’ve been all for doing Rafe in the back seat of an antique car.
Then again, maybe Titanic wasn’t the best analogy. After all, didn’t Jack die in the end?
Rafe jerked away from her and turned to gaze out the passenger side window. With the swipe of his hand, he straightened his hair. Wiping off the condensation from the window, he grumbled. “What in the bloody hell?”
“W-what is it?” she asked, still breathless. She swiped her palm across the window, clearing the evidence of their late-afternoon tryst, if it could even be called a tryst. A movement near the side of her mom’s house caught her eye.
“Not it again,” she mumbled.
Hovering above her mom’s snow topped bushes, the hooded apparition from Macintosh’s, black flowing robes, hood, and all, floated along the house. Despite the darkness of its façade, she didn’t get that dark vibe from it at all. Then again, she didn’t get that vibe from the Arca Inferorum either, and look where that led her. Hell on Earth.
Rafe’s brow jutted upward. “You’ve seen him before?”
Nibbling her lip, Lucy nodded. “At the restaurant, when I was out to dinner with my mom.”
“Then he was here before you opened the chest?”
This just kept getting weirder by the minute. “Yeah, I guess so,” she replied, her voice cracking.
The hooded figure hovered above the snow-speckled bushes, snow sparkling and blowing through it. All of a sudden, it turned back toward the house and vanished inside.
Her heart leapt in her chest, her pulse instantly spiking. “That isn’t good.”
Look at what she’d done now. Her mom was in danger, and it was her fault.
Lucy clenched her fists. She wouldn’t let an innocent person suffer for her mistake. Especially not her mom. Despite their differences, she was still her mother and only wanted what she thought was best for her. But enough introspect. She was ready to kick some creepy, cloaked demon ass.
“We better move,” Rafe’s voice cut into her thoughts.
She gulped. Nervousness crept in, scaring away any lingering lustful thoughts. Think about your mom, her new superhero ego burst out. She needs you.
But truth to the matter, it wasn’t her mom who needed her. Lucy was the one who needed her. She just hoped it wasn’t too late.
“I couldn’t agree more.” With that, she threw open the door to the car and flew out, ready to defend her family.
Chapter 15
What is it about her?
He should’ve been able to resist a succubus’s charm, yet Lucy had him under her spell—completely. From the first moment they locked gazes he’d been caught. He could still smell the sweet scent of green tea that floated with her every step. Fresh, exotic, and absolutely intoxicating. Regardless of his lack of success as a Paladin, he still had almost five centuries of training beneath his belt. He should be able to resist. But the more he resisted, the more he wanted her.
He was a moth drawn to her flame. He’d never felt such passion from a simple kiss, even the kisses he’d shared with others over the centuries. Maybe the Fore-Demons had sent him to her as a test, a test he would fail horribly. “I’m doomed.”
Once, he could shrug off as a fluke. But this had happened more than once. Twice they had kissed and twice, the reaction had been the same. Explosive passion. Lust and desire. If it hadn’t been for those two inconvenient interruptions, they would’ve gone farther than just a kiss, and that disappointed him.
Bloody hell. “I’m losing my powers,” he muttered beneath his breath.
It was the only explanation. Any time she came near, he couldn’t help himself. Pure molten desire raced through him whenever they touched. He angled his gaze toward the driver’s side window. Lucy stood in knee-deep snow, scanning the area. Hopefully she didn’t have any questions about their unwelcome visitor. Because, frankly, he didn’t have answers. At least not ones she wanted to hear.
The sooner he finished his mission, the better. The sooner he could concentrate on saving his sister. Maybe then he could forget about Lucia Anne Gregory and the almost obsessive hold she had on him. Had he known what he signed up for, he might never have accepted the mission. Then again, the Fore-Demons had made their choices. To go against them was to sign away your life as Paladin, forever wasting away in purgatory. What a bunch of good he’d do for Luc… Coby there.
“I’ll contact the elder council later tonight.”
Perhaps they could reassign him? Or maybe Nic would trade assignments with him. After all, Nic was more than capable of protecting Lucy, and he wouldn’t falter. Like I’m doing now.
Not bloody likely, his inner self replied. Knowing of Nic’s own private obsession, Rafael knew it would take a small act of God to get him to switch their missions. After all, this wasn’t a small outbreak like they were used to.
“This is the dawning of the bloody Apocalypse, and I’ve been thrown right into it.”
As a Paladin in training, he’d been warned of the impending crisis. Every Paladin’s thorough training had prepared them for it. He’d always assumed he’d fight with Nic and Coby at his side. He would have to fight this battle alone. He craned his gaze back to Lucy, who trudged toward her mother’s house, a string of expletives rumbling from her mouth.
She would not fight this battle. He wouldn’t let her. Things were more complicated now than he ever imagined. It wasn’t any normal apparition. It was a Sexubi. A rather powerful one at that. He hadn’t gotten close enough to know whether it was a he or she or if it was one of Lamia’s or not. Regardless, the situation was dangerous.
Lucy turned and tramped her way back toward the car. Knocking on the window, she threw h
im a piercing gaze. Bloody hell, he knew that look. Anger and frustration swirled in her eyes. To be honest, he couldn’t blame her. He felt the same way about his sister.
Rubbing his jaw, he concentrated back to Coby. He could only hope that Nic was still pursuing her rescue. From their previous conversation, he hadn’t seemed too hopeful. He clenched his fists. Some days he hated being a demon.
“Are you going to sit in the car all day? We need to vanquish a creepy demon thing.” She crossed her arms and let out an exasperated sigh.
Rafael blinked. She was picking up the demon lingo rather well. Throwing open the door, Rafael nodded. “I was thinking.”
“Thinking?” Incredulity laced her voice. “About what?”
“We should exercise caution.”
She rolled her eyes. “No shit, but you, yourself, should know what I’m going through.” Throwing up her hands, she harrumphed. “My mother is in danger!”
So someone told her about Coby? It didn’t surprise him one bit. A gossiping lot Kalli and Lilith were. He didn’t want to think about his sister, not now.
Stay strong. Don’t let her see you weak.
“Maybe I do, maybe I don’t.” Rafael winced. He sounded like a spoiled little brat.
A deep growl rumbled from her as she pounded her gloved fist into her other palm. “Maybe you need me to kick your fine ass.”
With as much fire as she possessed, she probably could. His jaw tightened and his heart raced. Her fire, strong, uncontrollable, dangerous… and he was almost falling into that fire—hard.
“Fine,” she ground out. “I’ll go by myself.” With that she spun around and tromped toward her mother’s snow-topped house.
With a sigh of resignation, Rafael swung the door open further and stepped out of the car. “Wait!” he yelled, plowing out of the car and into the snow. Glancing toward the western sky, his heart plummeted.
Dark billowing clouds swirled and churned in the distance. A black mist circled them, forming more menacing clouds. Winds whipped, growing stronger with each gust, sending white blasts of powder against his face.
“This isn’t good,” he muttered as he trudged up the driveway behind Lucy.
***
With cautious steps, Lucy shimmied toward the back of her mom’s house, Rafe steady on her heels. Hopefully her mom still kept the key hidden in that blatantly obvious plastic rock. Only the person with an IQ of a rock would fall for that trick. Might as well just paint the word KEYS in big bright red letters on the front of it.
Tromping through a foot of snow, she swung open the gate as far as she could with a drift of snow piled behind it.
With a few muffled curses—some made up—she muddled through the snow. Nothing like climbing through knee-deep snow to burst her already-fraying nerves.
“I hate snow!” she grumbled.
As if sensing her displeasure, a whirlwind of the annoyingly cold fluff bombarded her face. “Damn!”
Tromping next to her, Rafe glanced up to the ominous gray clouds churning to the west. “Bloody hell.”
“What is it?”
“Bad weather.”
She rolled her eyes. “It’s Michigan in December. Get used to it.”
“Are your winter storm clouds usually that dark?”
“To be honest, I never paid much attention to the clouds.” Squinting, she further inspected the dark masses. “The snow blowing in my face usually blocks my view.”
“Those aren’t normal storm clouds, Lucy.” Rafe stuck his hand in his pocket and pulled out a black skullcap. Pulling the hat on, he turned to face her. “We need to move… now!”
Noting Rafe’s patented stony intense glare, she fidgeted with her hat. “Okay. I’ll go in through the back. You do your poof thing.”
“I can’t poof until you’re inside. I need a person or place to visualize. I’ve never been inside your mother’s house.”
“You aren’t missing much, unless hideous amounts of Christmas decorations are your thing.”
“I suppose not.” Rafe scratched his chin. “You go in through the back door, and I’ll travel once you’re inside.”
“Sounds good to me,” she said through blowing snow. “So what’s the deal with the creepy floating guy?”
“I don’t know,” he replied, gazing up and away from her. Great, he was hiding something again. “I need to investigate.”
“Fine,” she said, her tone short. “See you inside.” With as much pride as she could muster, she stood proud and stomped her way through the snow. The sooner she got to her mother the better.
Digging around in the snow, in bare hands nonetheless, she searched for the plastic stone. She craned her gaze to Rafe, who scratched his head, a puzzled expression etched across his face.
“I’m looking for the spare key,” she said, sounding lame. “She keeps it hidden.”
With the arch of a brow, Rafe nodded. “Just hurry.”
“Yes master,” she mumbled under her breath. Then again, being at Rafe’s mercy did have some delicious merits. Her mind flitted off to him doing all sorts of deliciously naughty things to her. She knew she liked it kinky; she just didn’t know she had that sort of kink in her. Her lips curved into a devilish grin. She so couldn’t wait to get him alone to herself. If it was as good as his kisses… ooh-la-la. She bit her lip. The more time she spent with this man, the more daring she became. Alarmingly exciting.
Then her hand connected with cold plastic, breaking her from those ever rising lustful thoughts. “Found it!” She flailed the fake rock like it was a prize. Flipping it over, she pried the key from its hiding spot. Standing, she brushed the thick snow from her jeans and coat. It was time to take on Rafe’s commanding tone. “Let’s go!”
With steps as sure as she could take through the pile of snow, she tramped up the steps. Wasting no time, she inserted the key and unlocked the door. Without hesitation, she pushed open the door and stepped inside. She stomped her shoes and scraped them against the floor mat. Even in her urgency, she knew not to inflict the wrath of Mom. Wet, sloppy, snowy floors would trip her switch—big time.
Dashing through the breezeway, she stepped up the ledge and headed into her mom’s kitchen. She’d gone all out this year. The scent of cinnamon and spice wafted through the air, tickling her nose. Piles of red and green sprinkled sugar cookies sat on the counter, beckoning her to steal one. If there was one thing her mom was good at, it was baking cookies. Santa and snowmen magnets plastered her refrigerator, while boughs of holly hung and mistletoe dangled from the doorways. Darn, where was Rafe when you really needed him?
As if answering her thoughts, in a misting swirl of ice and snow, Rafe materialized in front of her—right on top of her mom’s snowman-bedecked table. Luckily for his head, he’d missed her crystal chandelier by a mere centimeter.
“Now isn’t the time for a table dance.”
Mumbling an apology, he climbed down from the table, leaving a pair of giant boot prints right on Frosty’s face. Despite mom’s wrath, she managed a chuckle. If he thought battling Belial would be bad, wait until he met her mom.
“Have you seen your mother yet?”
“No,” she replied, loping into the living room. “Maybe she’s in the basement doing laundry or—”
Her eyes bugged out of her head. Had her mom surrendered to Christmas fads? Apparently so. Even Lucy, a person who didn’t spread the holiday spirit, couldn’t believe it.
When she’d mentioned she was getting an upside-down Christmas tree, Lucy thought she was BS-ing. Seeing the bizarre thing there, hanging from her ceiling, Lucy let her mouth gape open. Tip pointing down, it twinkled and flashed, oblivious to the fact it was upside down.
“Something about that just isn’t right,” she mumbled to Rafe as he came to stand next to her. “Who in their right mind hangs a Christmas tree upside down?”
Mom, obviously! Then again, maybe she wasn’t in her right mind.
“The Germans did in the Middle Ages,” Rafe whisp
ered, turning her toward the stairway. “We still need to search the upstairs and the basement.”
“I’ll take the upstairs, and you take the basement if you want,” she said as she took the first step.
Eyes stony serious, Rafe grabbed her arm, sending bolts of sizzling energy through her. “No, we go together.”
“Fine, follow me,” she said, pushing up the steps. Turning the corner to take the last set of steps—
The muffled groan from upstairs rang in her ears, striking her speechless. Her heart plummeted into her stomach. “Oh God,” she managed, her voice cracking. “We’re too late.”
Rafe grabbed her arm. Rough calloused pads brushed against her soft skin. Heated friction sparked. Not now, her mind screamed.
“That doesn’t mean anything,” he whispered in her ear, the silky strands of his hair brushing against her cheek. With his thumb and index finger, he raised her chin so she could meet his gaze. His silver eyes swirled with unfathomable intensity. “Better late than never, Lucy.”
Rafe’s words of inspiration kicked her ass in gear. She straightened her back and raised her chin. With smooth steps, she swiveled around and took the remaining stairs two at a time. There were only four of them, after all.
Wrapping his fingers around her upper arm, Rafe turned her to face him. “Get behind me,” he ground out, his gaze burning. “You’re a woman. I’m supposed to protect you.”
Oh hell no! He didn’t just go there. But the stern glare said everything. Hadn’t he heard of women’s lib? “Look here buddy, it’s the twenty-first century. You need to get with the times.”
Another loud grunt and strangled groan drifted from the far room—her mom’s bedroom. Off-limits since she was a kid. She’d make an exception this time.
Hello! This was her mother! She wanted to do the protecting. It was her fault her mother was in danger. She had to do something.
“Sorry, Rafe. I need to do this.”
“What? You can’t,” he hissed, breaths of air teasing along her ear. “You have no training. You could die.”