Evidently his response was not what Taayin expected, because the male stared up at him, eyes wide, mouth hanging open.
“What?” he asked. “If you’re walking through this life worried that the female you love isn’t the one you’re meant to be with, how the fuck do you enjoy the time you have with her?”
“So what am I supposed to do? Pretend she is?”
“For fuck’s sake, Taayin. You’re supposed to feel. Whatever that may be. Just fucking feel. I wish I could make it easy for you, but I can’t. No one can.”
As with any who’d been through this, Obsidian didn’t know how to fix their problems. Even if he could, it wasn’t his place to interfere. However, this was a distraction they didn’t need. For all they knew, Perfidious could be up to one of his games again, playing them all by diverting their attention.
Before either of them could say anything more, Obsidian felt Penelope’s pull from across the mansion.
“I have to go.”
Not bothering to waste time walking, he vanished his form, reappearing in the kitchen to find Penelope groaning, slumped over the counter.
“Ayreme?”
Penelope’s pained gaze lifted, met his. “Please … Obsidian.”
The others were sitting at the island, wide-eyed as they tried to figure out what to do to help her.
If they’d been alone, Obsidian would have eased her right then and there. Since they weren’t, he did the only thing he could think of. Lifting her into his arms, he held her close to his chest, then disappeared them both, materializing in their bedroom.
Penelope gasped when they returned to their physical form. It hadn’t even dawned on him that the move would be taxing on her body. While teleporting was a nifty trick, it wasn’t easy to do and for someone who’d never experienced it, it could be painful.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, setting her on her feet.
She moaned softly, her eyes closing. He could feel her need. It had intensified, more so than he’d expected so soon after he’d first fed from her. Obsidian had thought for sure they’d have a few weeks’ reprieve, a couple of months if they were really lucky. That didn’t seem to be the case. In fact, he’d go so far as to say it was more powerful now than before.
“Get them off me,” she urged, tugging at her clothing.
“With pleasure, ayreme,” he whispered, hurrying to remove her clothing even as he allowed his hands to roam over her smooth, warm skin.
She moaned softly, some of the frustration abating.
Before he could shed his own clothing, Penelope was doing the honors, on her feet as she all but ripped his shirt off. He chuckled, pulling it over his head and tossing it aside as she roughly tugged at the button of his fly.
“Careful,” he warned. “Don’t want to put him out of commission.”
“Definitely not.” She went up on her toes, pulling his head down so their mouths met.
Her kiss was intense, making his body burn with the need to be inside her.
Penelope groaned, then pulled away.
Expecting her to get on the bed, Obsidian nearly fell on top of her when she spun around and bent over the mattress, her sweet little ass beckoning him.
As much fun as that would be, he’d learned from experience their height difference made the position damn near impossible. So rather than bend her over and plunge inside her heat, Obsidian picked her up and tossed her onto the bed, following close behind.
He grabbed her hips, jerking them back toward him as he positioned his throbbing cock at her entrance, guiding himself into the heavenly warmth of her.
Penelope’s chest dropped to the mattress, hands fisting the blankets as he drove into her from behind. The sexy female made him absolutely crazy. The way she welcomed him inside her, her soft pleas spurring him on. Sometimes he had to remind himself of how fragile she was. Her spirit alluded otherwise, but his significant strength had the ability to hurt her. And when she met him thrust for thrust, it took tremendous restraint to hold himself back, refusing to cause her even minimal pain.
“Obsidian … make me come!”
He grinned at the demand in her tone, the need.
Even as he proceeded to do exactly that.
AFTER HER INTERLUDE WITH OBSIDIAN, PENELOPE HAD felt a tad guilty for leaving Asmia in her time of need. Not that she could’ve done anything to stop it. The desire had surprised her, thrown her off because she’d expected to have a bit of downtime now that Obsidian had fed from her. After all, that had been the very reason he’d been holding off.
But now that she was sated—even if only temporarily—she was on a mission to find Asmia, to help her in any way she could. Perhaps she wasn’t the right person to console her, but she couldn’t stand the thought of Asmia having to go through this alone. She’d witnessed the scene with her own two eyes. Didn’t matter that it had been a projection of Asmia’s memory, it had been so real. And a cheap shot by that damn demon as far as she was concerned.
It had taken a trek through the mansion before she located the Fae in the library. Apparently, Asmia had shut herself in, probably seeking solitude.
She considered that a moment. What if Asmia didn’t want her to interfere? Would she be overstepping? Did it really matter? Everyone needed a friend, right?
With a sigh, Penelope rapped her knuckles on the door after she inched it open and peeked inside.
“Mind if I come in?”
Asmia shrugged.
Taking that as a yes, she ventured into the room, closing the door behind her. The comforting atmosphere of the room hadn’t faded and she understood why someone would come here to be alone. Surrounded by books and words, she couldn’t think of a more tranquil place to be.
Attempting to gauge Asmia’s mood, Penelope moved around the room, taking stock of the books on the shelves. She smiled when she came to a section of J.R. Ward’s novels, another with Sherrilyn Kenyon’s. For some reason, she doubted those had been there prior to her arrival at the mansion. Then again, she knew firsthand the appeal those books held and she certainly wasn’t the only fan of those authors.
“Do you read?” she asked Asmia.
“I’ve read every book in this room,” the Fae said softly.
“Even these?” She motioned to the Black Dagger Brotherhood series.
Asmia peered over, nodded. “Twice, actually.”
Penelope liked that they had that in common.
She managed to pass a few more minutes perusing the spines of the books before she made her way to the sofa. As she took a seat beside Asmia, Penelope realized she didn’t have a clue how to broach the subject. Though she wanted to think of Asmia as a friend, she wasn’t sure it was her place to intrude on something as personal as her relationship with Taayin. So, rather than launch headlong into advice, she remained silent, figuring Asmia would talk when she was ready.
“How will I ever look at him again?” Asmia finally said, the torment in her tone breaking Penelope’s heart.
“It’s not your fault,” she assured her, though she’d already said that, and she doubted it made a bit of difference in the grand scheme of things.
Penelope could practically taste Asmia’s despair and it pained her. While they weren’t all that close, she liked Asmia. She was funny and smart and rather entertaining. She’d come to enjoy Asmia’s stories, whether they were of past events or mere reports or her nights out. Though she looked the part of a fragile, delicate woman, the fairy had some serious steel in her spine. She’d regaled Penelope with stories of her training, and she’d come to realize there weren’t many who could go up against Asmia and survive.
Yet right now, Asmia looked like she could be knocked over with a feather.
“Why would Perfidious do that? Why would he mess with me like that?”
There was only one reason Penelope could think of, but telling Asmia that a demon had set his sights on her didn’t seem appropriate. She definitely wouldn’t want to come to that revelation.
“Do you think he’ll ever forgive me?” she prompted, sniffling.
Penelope got up and retrieved a box of tissues from the table, passed it to Asmia when she returned.
“Of course he will. Taayin cares for you.”
While she didn’t know the details of their relationship, Penelope had been at the mansion long enough to see there was a connection between Asmia and Taayin. They cared for one another deeply, were, perhaps, even in love.
“I wouldn’t blame him if he never spoke to me again.”
With a sigh, Penelope pressed her shoulder to Asmia’s. “It’ll work itself out. Just give it some time.”
“Time seems to be all I have these days,” the Fae muttered softly.
Not sure what to say to that, Penelope remained silent, leaning gently against Asmia, hoping to comfort.
“How are things with Obsidian?” Asmia asked with a sniffle, clearly wanting to change the subject.
“Good.” She smiled. “Very good, actually.”
Asmia’s gaze dropped to Penelope’s neck briefly. “I noticed he’s feeding from you now.”
On instinct, she reached up and touched the marks he’d left just a short time ago, remembering in vivid detail how he’d sank his fangs into her as his heavy erection had been lodged deep inside her. She’d never felt anything quite so pleasurable. The euphoria she felt when he fed from her had taken her by surprise in the beginning, but now she found she craved it.
“Just wait until you can return the favor,” Asmia noted.
Penelope studied her face as thoughts of feeding from Obsidian danced in her head. Until recently, she hadn’t given it much thought, never truly accepting that she might one day be what he was. While it wasn’t a subject she was completely comfortable with, there was a certain appeal to the idea.
“Don’t worry. It’ll be as good for him as it is for you.”
“Why is it you don’t have to feed?” she asked.
Asmia’s gaze swung over to the windows. “I do, but not on blood. Fae feed on emotions. It’s one of the reasons we offer ourselves for the pleasure of the males. It sates both needs at one time. Our craving for sex isn’t only about the physical aspect. It’s more than the release. We draw from the males, use their emotions to sustain us.”
“Wish someone would teach me how to do that.”
Asmia’s curious gaze swung over to her. “Do what?”
“Convert emotions to … something else.” Penelope exhaled heavily. “I’m overwhelmed by emotions of others. It’s been easier since I’ve been here because I can’t sense the emotions of angels or Fae. As long as I don’t interact with Oliver or Winnie much, I tend to do fine. But out there … out in the world, it consumes me.”
“So you’re an empath?”
She nodded. “That’s the conclusion I’ve come to.”
“Well, that explains your relationship with your brother,” she muttered.
“How so?”
“Oliver’s full of anger and rage,” Asmia said. “It’s even difficult for me to be around him and he would provide plenty of fuel for my existence. In your case, you’d want to keep your distance due to your sensitivities. I think he feels as though you’ve abandoned him.”
Penelope frowned, confused. “Abandoned him?” That was ludicrous. “Oliver’s never wanted anything to do with me. Ever since we were kids. Even after our mother left, I needed him, but he shut me out completely.”
“But you’re twins.”
“Yeah. We shared the same womb. That’s about it.”
“There’s something deeper,” Asmia said, her eyes serious. “Something inside Oliver that’s eating at him. You’re not the source of his anger, merely an outlet. I think he knows you’ll distance yourself because you have to. He uses that.”
“How do I fix it?” she asked, shocked by this revelation. The last thing Penelope would ever want to do was push her brother away, but it made complete sense.
“You can’t. Only Oliver can fix it.” Asmia placed her hand on Penelope’s arm. “He will, though. Very soon.”
She stared at the Fae, wanting her to elaborate, but she didn’t.
“I need to go find Taayin. I need to apologize.”
Penelope remained on the sofa when Asmia vanished into thin air. She’d gotten used to that move. They all did it. Randomly, at that. She could be standing in a room, surrounded by angels, and a second later, they were all gone.
It was a rather cool trick, one she wondered if she would be capable of eventually.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Monday, August 12, 2019
PERFIDIOUS PACED THE ABANDONED WAREHOUSE, ATTEMPTING TO find a corner far enough away from Seraphina so that he didn’t wrap his hands around her neck and squeeze. He’d been fantasizing about it for the past few hours, the idea of sending her back to Hell the only pleasant thought he’d had since he left Asmia at that club. Not that it would do him any good. He doubted he could send her back to Hell and be far enough away.
But that was a nice idea.
“Why are you smiling?” Seraphina asked when she joined him as he made his way into the small, cramped office.
“Just enjoying the fruits of my labor,” he told her, holding out his arms to encompass the room.
Her blue eyes slowly scanned the space, taking it all in. “Planning to make this your permanent residence?”
“Permanent’s too definitive. But I think I’ll maintain it for the time being.”
At least until he made his move. Until then, it was imperative he made Seraphina believe he was working toward the goal.
Turning to face her, he tucked his hands in his pockets. “Any word on whether Obsidian’s planning to kill his female so he can bring her back to life on the full moon?”
Seraphina’s glossy red lips pulled back to reveal bright white teeth. “It excites me to think of the female’s death. Wonder if he’d be opposed to letting me watch?”
“Not really an answer,” he told her, though Perfidious couldn’t care less as to Obsidian’s intentions, or the amsouelot’s, for that matter. However, he wasn’t an idiot and he knew Lucifer was keeping track of their progress.
She pouted nicely. “No word. Though I’m pretty sure they know you were at the club.”
The news made him smile. He was hoping they would put two and two together. He wanted them to realize how close he’d been, how easily he could’ve taken them out. Unfortunately, that would also mean one of those damn warriors had siphoned his mind control right out of Asmia’s beautiful head.
Seraphina moved toward him, her blood-red nail scraping a line down his chest. “While I know you’re enjoying yourself, you’re running out of time, my lord. Should he mate her, you’ll no longer have access to her soul.”
No, he wouldn’t. It would be safely ensconced in Heaven alongside Obsidian’s.
Not that Perfidious was worried. There were plenty of others he could seek. And once he had Asmia at his side, he could easily locate every single one of them, keep apprised of their progress. And the two of them together would take down Michael’s little army, acquiring all of them one by one. Perfidious figured the king of Hell would forgive losing Obsidian’s soul as long as he delivered the rest.
Perfidious peered down, watched as Seraphina slowly released the buttons on his shirt. She didn’t stop there, though, going lower, unhooking his slacks, freeing his cock.
“It gets me hot to think about you slaying the female,” she rasped, dropping to her knees as she stroked his erection firmly.
What got him hot was thoughts of that blond Fae, the feel of her body against his, the soft rasp of her voice as she said his name. It thrilled him to know she’d had no idea who he was while at the club, but now… Another smile pulled at his mouth. Now he could only assume Asmia was appalled to know he’d been so close. But in order to have feelings one way or another, she had to think about him.
Closing his eyes, Perfidious imagined the lips wrapped around his cock belonged to
Asmia. He would kill to get his hands on that female, to get the chance to do dirty things to that lovely body. Make those amethyst eyes glow as she came while he was lodged to the hilt inside her.
He jerked back as sharp fingernails pierced his balls.
Reaching down, Perfidious grabbed Seraphina by the hair, yanked her to her feet. “What the fuck was that for?”
“I know you’re thinking about her,” she hissed, her hand curling around his cock once more. “Thinking about fucking that human.”
Human, no. Fae, yes. However, he didn’t confirm or deny. No sense pissing off the demon. She was a possessive little bitch, mistaken in her belief that he harbored feelings for her. He couldn’t be faulted for enjoying the pleasure she afforded him, but in the end, Seraphina was simply a means to an end, nothing more.
Shoving her toward the desk, Perfidious was behind her in an instant, yanking the scrap of fabric she called a skirt up over her hips. Digging his fingers into her flesh, he rammed himself into her.
Her cry of ecstasy was proof she’d been pushing him on purpose, wanting him to lose control.
The joke was on her because as he held her in place, fucking her ruthlessly, Perfidious closed his eyes, pretended she was Asmia.
Lovely name, lovely ass, lovely everything.
And very, very soon, she would be his.
For eternity.
AS OBSIDIAN PACED THE LIVING ROOM, HE listened to his brothers giving their status updates. Nothing much had changed in the past few days—at least not on the amsouelot front—and the building frustration was infectious.
At his brothers’ insistence, Obsidian had been imprisoned within the walls of the mansion, protecting his amsouelot from the threat they knew was nearby but couldn’t quite put their finger on. While he did his best to pretend otherwise, he was growing restless, antsy. He wanted to be out there, helping his brothers. With every passing hour, the tension was rising for each of them.
“Eclipse? How about you?” Stygian’s deep voice came through the phone. “Any progress?”
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