Wicked Game

by Bethan Tear

  He calmly placed the tray on her bedside table and leant down to kiss her. His lips lingered on hers, tasting of honey and summer.

  “You tell me,” he said playfully, giving a wicked smile before moving in for another kiss.

  When he stepped back she saw that he looked real enough, tangible, not like the smoky, disembodied soul Chris had been on this plane and that kiss...that had been something else entirely. She stood up, reaching out to touch him, to prove to herself that he truly was still there when she hesitated, remembering how angry he had been the last time he'd been denied his freedom.

  She walked around the bed. There was no blood, no smashed mirrors this time. Perhaps he was getting better at controlling his more volatile emotions. She looked back, into his eyes, hoping to find some answers there. They were hooded and endlessly dark, empty of emotion.

  “It appears I was wrong,” he said stiffly, remaining where he was.

  Hazelle frowned. “You were?”

  “About the reason I didn't go, about having to protect you. Apparently that wasn't the reason...or the solution. But I finally figured it out.”

  “You did?”

  He walked to her then, slowly and unsurely, as if not wanting to startle her. After all she had been through she didn't frighten so easily now. She watched him, puzzled, still woozy from a lack of sleep and almost dying, unable to comprehend his meaning. Something in him had changed, she realised that. Chris had tried to convince her of it otherwise but she knew in her heart that she had sparked something in Kaden. She didn't know what it meant yet, or if it was important, or even if it would last. He had touched her in ways she'd never been touched before, and she knew that she'd touched him in ways he'd never been touched before, too.

  He stood before her, without a scrap of cloth, without a single lie to hide behind, in all his luscious, golden god like glory, every inch the insufferable, delectable demon he had been on the day she had summoned him, and so much more besides. It had been a game, a bit of fun, she never expected him to be so wicked, so sinful, so real.

  Yet real he was and she felt the urge to touch him again, though she was afraid that if she did he would vanish beneath her fingertips or simply fade away, without a goodbye, without a farewell, without a last kiss, without anything.

  “Yes. I did.”

  He reached up, pressing his hand to his own heart and then reached over slowly, touching the same one to her heart. It thrummed, beating erratically beneath his palm and she didn't know what to say, or do, or think. Kaden was gazing down at her, eyes void of all emotion, save one.

  “No,” she whispered tersely, tearing herself away from him. The tears she'd missed earlier came to her now, falling thick and fast down her flushed cheeks. “No.”

  He took a defiant step towards her, replacing his hand over her heart.

  “Yes.”

  “No,” she snapped, looking away. She wouldn't let herself be deceived. “That's impossible. You're a demon. Demons can't love.”

  “I know what I am,” he said harshly, his eyes flashing completely black for a second before his voice softened, “I know what I feel, Hazelle. Do you think this is easy for me? I know you think me a monster, an abomination, less worthy than any mortal man. Do you think its fun for me to see the revulsion, the fear in your eyes every time I touch you? Do you think its going to be so easy for me to leave you?”

  She covered her ears and turned away, shaking her head, not wishing to hear anymore, to know anymore. “No. No, no, no no, no!

  “Hazelle...” he growled and then, before she could breath he seized her shoulder, whirled her round and kissed her.

  His lips were like sunlight on her skin, golden light coursing through her, running through her veins, leaving nothing untouched. He was opening himself up to her, letting her in and for the first time since her last spell she could sense his mind, feel his emotions entangling with her own, taste his regret and loss as they embraced physically, mentally, spiritually. There was no darkness in him now, her own golden light had conquered him, claimed him, enslaved him, mingling with the golden glitters that radiated from his thoughts about her, his memories of her, those he would cherish even when he couldn't hold her in his arms anymore.

  He kissed her like he would never kiss her again, his lips trembling against hers with repressed desire. He picked her up bridal style and carried her to the bed, laying her on it, stripping away her pyjamas and underwear, tasting the tender flesh between her legs, teasing her breasts with his tongue, ravishing her body and caressing her heart. She was floating on air, in light, bathing in the beauty of them; the beauty they created together. As he entered her she inhaled deeply, trying to capture his scent, the memory of him inside of her, wanting to take it with her, to carrying it with her always.

  Afterwards he simply held her, neither of them needing to resort to words, their minds still linked through the joyous union of their bodies. Her heart was skipping, dancing, pulsating with light, and life...and love.

  *~*~*

  The pentagram was still on the basement floor, a faint, faded outlined stained with old blood, both human and demon. Hazelle should have been stood in the centre of it, where it was safest, should any hellbeasts try and sneak through and take a bite of her, but she was stood on the top point, facing Kaden, trying to memorise his face. No painting would ever be able to capture his beauty, no photograph could record the endless enchantment of his eyes, no memory could do him justice.

  Kaden had insisted on her being there. He'd told her that he'd finally figured out what was keeping him in her world, what she had summoned him for, what he needed to do before he could be released from her service. He was still reluctant to tell her exactly what that was. He'd taken her hand and led her down into the basement, where it had begun for both of them. It seemed like centuries ago when really it had only been a month or so since she had summoned him.

  So much had changed in such a short space of time, she had changed so much, and Kaden too. There was a light in him, one that had not been there before, one that was aching to grow, wishing to banish the darkness in him and embrace her wholly.

  Now it wouldn't have a chance to. Not in her lifetime. It would be shunned, forsaken, buried deep down inside. Maybe another woman would be able to provoke a change in him, a woman with grace, and beauty, and endowments Hazelle would never posses. Perhaps he would be able to spread his light to others, convert other demons, redeem tormented spirits and make peace across the world. Maybe they would banish him from hell and make him a mortal outcast, or go so far as to kill him for caring for a human. Only one thing was certain in this life, that there were no certainties, no guarantees, no absolutes and no destinies.

  Never say never.

  She had to repeat that mantra mentally as she looked into his eyes, lost in them, trying to memorise the way they glinted ruthlessly by candlelight, how the light sometimes softened them for her, only for her. She had to resist the temptation to throw herself into his arms and beg him to take her with him, not that she believed he would, or even could.

  She didn't belong there and he didn't belong here. That was it. That was all. Those were the honest facts, harsh and cruel as they seemed, and there was no challenging them, no changing them.

  “How did you manage to...to reach me?” she asked, assuming he wouldn't want to confide in her any of his secrets. They hadn't broached the subject yet and this might be the last opportunity she ever had to know how it was done, how he had pierced the veils between the worlds and found her in death. The old witch had hinted at it back in the store but Hazelle wanted to hear it from his own lips, with his own tongue that had pleased her so much.

  He touched her chest again, his fingers warm and welcome on her breast.

  “Your heart,” he murmured, “Even as it was dying...it led me to you.”

  “But...how?”

  He removed his hand and pressed his soft lips to the skin above her heart. When he stepped back he was smiling.
/>   “How do you think?”

  Hazelle felt a flutter in her heart like the wings of a butterfly. It wanted him. It wanted to keep him. It wanted to hold him, and love him and never let him go...

  “You said you figured it out, why you're still here? What I wanted when I summoned you?”

  He nodded.

  “Yes. It was only after touching your heart the way I did when I brought you back that I realised why I hadn't returned, what you really wanted from me, what no woman had wanted from me before.”

  He leaned in closer to her.

  “Three little words...” he whispered in her ear, making her tremble with longing, with fear, with everything.

  “I love you.”

  A gust of wind blew through the basement, hot and acrid, the flames of hell come to reclaim him. It ruffled her hair, blowing it in her face as she looked back at the candles and saw the light dancing, flickering with the arrival of new energy, of power beyond her control, perhaps even beyond Kaden's. She turned back to him, dizzy with the light of discovery, desperate to hold on to it, to him. To her horror she saw him smiling sadly at her, his eyes swirling whirlpools of demonic energy, shadows shifting around him, whispering to him, taking him.

  Before she could blink he was kissing her like there was no tomorrow, and she knew for them that there wouldn't be. She would never again wake to find him in her bed, or make him breakfast, or scold him for being lude, or laugh with him or hold him. She'd dreaded this moment for so long and now it was here she didn't know what to do. She had tried to reassure herself that she was ready, that she would be fine, that she could deal with this.

  It was a lie. She wasn't ready and she wouldn't be fine. How did she even begin to deal with this? If felt as if she was being torn in two, and half of her was going to hell. She clung to him, determined to fend of the shadows, keep them at bay with her light, kissing him fiercely with everything she had, everything she could have for a man, mortal or no.

  But he was already fading, his skin becoming translucent. Before her fingers could slip through he released her and retreated, his black eyes burning brightly with lust, the last part of him to dwindle. She watched, refusing to look away, wanting to see him for every last second that she could. He was withdrawing into the shadows, into a place that she couldn't follow, his eyes on her all the way, still glowing with everything he felt for her, everything she felt in return.

  He gave her a wicked smirk.

  “Remember...if you ever get bored you can summon me again,” he purred, very much reminding her of his old, arrogant, charming self, especially when he winked playfully at her.

  But their game was at an end.

  She gave a short laugh, tears trickling down her cheeks, all the emotion he evoked bubbling up to the surface and making it hard to breath. She wanted to cry and sing, and weep, and laugh, and love and be happy.

  Her happiness was fading as Kaden did. He was so faint now, so distant and beyond her reach, like a ghostly imprint on the earth, one that couldn't last forever. His image vanished right before her eyes, but just before his essence dispersed she heard three very quiet, very heartfelt words on the breeze.

  “I love you...”

  And then it was just her, silence and shadows.

  Epilogue

  It had been six months since Hazelle had first summoned him.

  Kaden spent his eternity wandering through lonely and inhospitable caverns of hell, the blistering heat fanning flames on his skin, reminding him of the passion he'd shared with the mortal woman back on earth, the one he craved every day, every night, every moment. He ignored the other calls of desperate women, spurning them all, woman squirming with lust, women that worshipped him, women that begged for his attention and special skills. No other demon could do it for them. No other demon could satisfy their every perverted desire.

  Just as no other human would ever be able to do it for him again.

  Kaden found he had no passion, not for them, not for anyone or anything that crossed his path in hell. His lust, his appetite for life had been left on earth with a certain infuriating, infatuating golden haired angel who had slowly crept into his heart, into his mind, into his soul and taken root there, not like an unwanted weed but like a flower, beautiful and blooming with promise, tormenting him, enchanting him, captivating him with her grace, her devotion, with the beauty she didn't even believed she possessed.

  And though that flower was wilting without her light he wouldn't let it die. He treasured it, admired it, would protect it with everything he was, everything he could ever be.

  The days were long, the nights even longer and crueller without sex to distract him. He had always used it as a crutch to sate his own burning cravings, pleasuring the women, indulging them in their every desire but ultimately using them to his own advantage, much the way Chris had with Hazelle. His blood bubbled with rage when he thought of that, of any harm coming to her. When he managed to claw his way through the fabric of reality and catch brief glimpses of her he saw that she was safe, miserable, but safe. She didn't smile anymore. He could see the desolation in her eyes, knew the sense of her loss, the grief of his absence because he felt it too, for her, wherever he went, whatever he did, like a constant ache, one he knew couldn't be quelled with simple sex.

  He missed her, more than he could ever admit to anyone around him, more than he dared admit to himself. He had dropped the not-so-sutble hint about being summoned again, and though he didn't hear her call he felt her need across all of time and space. If she had called, if she had cast the spell he would have been at her side in an instant, would have taken her in his arms and showed her just how much he missed her.

  But she didn’t, so he couldn't and he was left to roam hell, praying for the day he would forget her, the day she would forsake him and end his torment.

  That day didn't come. Instead, while dining one night on raw flesh and wine mixed with virgin's blood, he felt a tickle in his heart, something familiar mingled with something new and he knew it was no whore, no lonely housewife that summoned him.

  It was her.

  He embraced the magic wholeheartedly, allowing it to lead him to her. He materialised in the basement, completely naked, candlelight gleaming on his already swollen manhood. She was there, knelt in the centre of the pentagram, head bowed and eyes closed, her hair longer and lighter, her skin tanned from summer. Little else had changed about her. She stood up, her eyes still closed, as if afraid to look up, should the spell have failed, should she had summoned the wrong demon.

  “Hazelle...” he said quietly, not wanting to startle her.

  She opened her eyes and looked up at him then, her eyes so bright, so blue he was lost in them, lost to his lust. He lunged at her, sweeping her up in his arms, kissing her with such fever that she was gasping.

  Oh, how he had missed this, how he had missed her, the touch of her, the taste of her, the softness of her skin and the fire of her lips. His emotions soared, re-ignited by the closeness of her, by the aching need he felt in her, the same demanding need he felt in himself.

  “Why did you summon me?” he asked quickly, needing to know, needing to know how long they had together.

  “I thought I'd treat myself for my birthday.”

  “When is your birthday?”

  She gave a shrewd smile. “Yesterday.”

  Kaden just stood there, stunned by her cunning.

  “Clever little witch,” he purred, kissing her again.

  A whole three hundred and sixty-four days together before he had to return to hell, before he had to abandon her again, before she had to think of another excuse to summon him.

  But there would be time enough in the future to think of that. Right now all he wanted to do was live for the moment, love her for the moment. He picked her up, eager to be inside of her, to have her naked and panting beneath him, his member stiffening again at the thought, the memory of her warm breasts and delicious curves, the taste of her sex on his tongue. He carried h
er upstairs to her bedroom where he pleasured her, putting all of his reserved efforts and energies into making her scream.

  It didn't take long.

  “I love you,” Hazelle moaned, “Oh god, I love you. I should have told you before. I'm so sorry.”

  “I know,” he said huskily, plunging into her again.

  The night passed in a passion of heat, hands, tongues and lips as the darkness waned and sunlight touched the sky they spent the day in each other arms, making love over and again.

  THE END

  Thank you for reading my book. I hope that you enjoyed it and got a better idea of what I can do. I would very much appreciate if you could leave a comment on the Amazon website to let others know if you enjoyed my book, or what was wrong with it if you found it lacking.

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  And read on for a sneak peak at my next book, Dark Ruby.

  It was in the middle of this dance, during the most intimate part, that Ruby felt the harrowing coldness of death.

  She jerked her head to the side, dreading what she would see. There wasn’t much to see through the mass of spinning couples and brightly coloured costumes as the pace escalated. She and Edward continued to twirl, Edward not realising that she was distracted or that they didn’t move as smoothly as they had a moment before. The frost crept into her heart, the same sensation she felt every time Anton was near. It bewildered her, disorientated her, made everything hazy. The masks mocked her, people laughed menacingly, the costumes no longer fun and creative, now macabre and scary, as if the creatures themselves had come to life and hungered for her blood, resurrected by the presence of the greatest legendary creature of them all.