“Um, yeah. This looks interesting, who’s winning?”
A girl with braids sniffed and rolled her eyes. “It’s a cooperative game.”
“The monsters are kicking our asses,” another boy with ivory horns said, then slapped his talon-tipped hand over his mouth and looked warily up at Conah.
I bit back a smile. “Do you mind if I watch?”
Conah cleared his throat.
I shot him a sharp look. “We have time, right?”
He sighed. “I have some paperwork I need to get done. An hour.”
I grinned up at him. “Perfect.”
An hour and a half later, I was deep in a dungeon with my team. We’d taken out a gorgon and a demon boss, and we had the treasure. There was only a band of orcs standing between us and the exit.
“I can use my remaining spell points,” Clayna said.
“Nah, Fee should just tank them,” Palin replied.
Damn, this was a hard one. We were all low on health, and there was a huge risk that one of us wasn’t making it out alive, but I was damned if I left anyone behind.
“I’ll take them out with my annihilate spell,” Frederin, the messy-haired boy, said.
“You can’t sacrifice yourself,” Clayna said.
Frederin shrugged. “For the good of the team.”
I stared at the little boy, willing to die to save his comrades, to make sure they got out alive, and a lump formed in my throat.
“Um, Fee, are you okay?” Palin asked. “It’s just a game, you know.” He patted my arm reassuringly.
Just a game, Fee, dammit. They were all staring at me now.
“Fee, it’s time to go.” Conah waved me over from across the room.
“Aw!” the kids cried in unison.
My heart swelled with love for these little munchkins. “How about we finish this the next time I’m here?”
“I’ll make a note of the board and stats,” Palin said eagerly.
“When are you coming back?” Clayna asked.
I looked up at Conah as he approached. “When are we coming back?”
A small smile played on his lips. “Next week. We’ll be back next week.”
“Fralling!” Palin said.
Huh?
“Awesome,” Conah said. “It roughly translates as awesome.”
It was weird to think I was speaking their language without realizing it, but there were words I didn’t comprehend.
We left the kids as they set up a new game. They were insatiable.
“It’s all great practice for the real thing,” Conah said as we headed out of the lounge. “Most of these kids were made orphans from the battles that broke out after hundreds of reapers were killed by the virus the humans released. Theories on how it got into the Underealm, conspiracies about why it affected some regions more than others, rumors that it was demon-made, not human-made, prompted distrust and fear, and the conflict lasted for decades after the fact. There are many older demons that lost reaper parents to the actual virus, but the younger children lost their families to the wars that followed it. We smoothed things over with your world quickly, but it took time for the unrest in the Underealm to die down … in fact, there is still tension between regions in the Underealm.”
“Those kids I was playing the game with are orphans?”
“I believe so. They live here full time as wards of the Academy. We built outbuildings as residences a few years ago accessed only by resident biometrics.” His smile was wry. “This place is their home.”
My heart ached for them. “There must be something we can do for them.”
“They’re well provided for.”
“What about love? What about that?”
He paused to look down at me. “There is no time for love on the battlefield, Fee. We’re training soldiers here. Reapers aren’t just there to collect souls, we’re also Lilith’s army, and we fight against any threat to her rule whether it comes from within or without.”
He sounded so cold and unfeeling right now. So Mal-like that I wanted to shake him. “Yeah? Well, right now, they’re children. They deserve a childhood.”
“They’re demons, not humans. Don’t get confused.” He strode off through a set of doors and outside. The sky was an orange hue that signaled late afternoon.
He stopped a few feet away and stood hands on hips. “I’m sorry for snapping.” He walked back to me. “I admire your compassion, but it’s a human emotion. It’s not something that will serve you well in our world. In your true world.”
I wanted to argue, but my words evaded me. And then his arm was around my waist, and the world splintered. Uncertainty gripped me, because what if he was right? What if my human nature became my downfall?
Chapter Seventeen
I stared at my naked body in the mirror. I had muscle tone. My arms, shoulders, and my stomach … Shit, where was the cushion? Cora was going to go nuts when she saw me.
Four days of intensive training and the weight was falling off. I was stronger. I felt stronger. I may actually be able to kick ass. Okay, I was getting ahead of myself, but damn, it was exciting.
And all because Peiter had died.
I swear there was a negative Nancy living in my head who loved to torment me. I hit ignore on her ass and focused on working the tangles from my hair. I had a club to go to. Weird considering I’d not long ago woken up, but morning here was nighttime in the human world.
“Nice work.” Mal’s drawl was like a bucket of ice water over my post-bath warm skin.
I grabbed the towel I’d discarded on my bed and wrapped it around myself before turning to spear him with a glare.
“What. The. Fuck?”
Mal leaned casually against the door jamb, arms crossed. “You should really lock your door.”
His hair was artfully tousled, green eyes super sharp in his chiseled, arrogant face. My palm itched to slap his alabaster cheek.
“I did bloody lock it.” I bit out the words through clenched teeth.
“Oh, yeah.” He shrugged one shoulder. “I picked the lock.”
He pushed off the doorjamb and sauntered into my room, all slender-hipped and sexy. No. Not sexy. Damn, he was putting shit into my head again.
“Conah’s whipping you into shape nicely,” he said.
He was raking me over as if he could see right through my towel. My skin heated, and my mouth went dry.
God, if he came any closer … what? Contradictory emotions swirled inside me. My brain telling me to yell at him, and my hands wanting to drop the towel because as much as I hated to admit it, there was something pure sex about Mal that went straight to my core. I’d be damned if I’d let him know that, though.
I lifted my chin and glared at him. “Get out.”
He pulled open my dresser drawer and plucked out a pair of lacy pink panties. “Ooh, nice.” He studied me, gaze on my hip area. “But I bet they give you a wedgie, don’t they?”
I couldn’t get a read off him. Conah must have told him about my empath ability, and now he was blocking me too. But one thing I’d learned about Mal over the past few days was that he liked to play games. He liked to rile me up and see me flustered. This, coming into my room like this, was his attempt to embarrass me, to make me sweat. Well, fuck that, two could play at that game. My head and my body were both going to get what they wanted.
I dropped the towel.
His mouth parted in shock, and the lacy underwear he was holding slipped from his fingers.
Satisfaction surged in my chest. Satisfaction and the sluggish heat of arousal because he was looking at me, really looking. Unashamedly devouring me with his eyes. It was as if he were touching me. My pulse sped up, but I kept my expression neutral.
“What do you want, Mal?” I padded casually over to my bed and picked up the underwear I’d laid out earlier. Black cotton panties. I stepped into them, ignoring the urge to hurry and cover myself. “I don’t have all day.” My tone was light as I clipped on my bra. “Conah and
I are headed out.” My black slinky halter-neck top went on next, and then I stood facing him, hands on hips. “Well?”
He walked toward me, and I took an involuntary step back. His eyes flared with triumph.
“What do you want, Mal?” My voice trembled slightly, giving me away. Fuck.
“What do I want?” He leaned in, his gaze darting across my face as if taking in every minute detail before dropping to my mouth. “What do I want?” he said in a pondering tone. He inched closer, so our lips were a hairbreadth apart. My mouth parted slightly, lips tingling with expectation. “Nothing you could give me.”
He stepped back, and my breath whooshed out in a rush. What the fuck?
He backed up, his signature cocky smile on his face. “Don’t try playing games with me, Fee. You’ll lose.”
Bastard. “Get out.”
He was already at the door, though. “Your dagger has arrived,” he threw over his shoulder.
Excitement jumped in my veins. My weapon was here. Wait. Since when did I get excited over a dagger?
“Don’t overthink it,” Mal said. “You’re a demon. Sharp pointy things are our go-to for fun. You’ll get used to it.” He made to leave.
“Wait, is that all you came to say?”
He looked back over his shoulder. “And it was totally worth it for the show.”
The door closed softly behind him, leaving me with a thudding heart and hot cheeks.
* * *
I was in my impulse-buy jeans. Why had I packed them? No idea. They were that item that you kept in your closet, hoping one day you’d try them on and look amazing in them. My regular jeans were loose. Actually, too loose to wear without a belt to cinch in the waist, and these beauties fit perfectly.
Bingo.
I made my way toward the lounge but paused outside as the sound of slightly raised voices reached me.
“—you think you’re doing, anyway?”
This one was Mal, demanding and annoyed.
“I’m pouring a drink,” Conah replied.
“You know what I’m talking about, brother.” He saturated that word with sarcasm.
“I’m doing my job,” Conah replied. “Maybe you should do yours.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yes, really. If you’re so worried, maybe you’d like to tag along?”
“You think I care?”
“You obviously do, or we wouldn’t be having this conversation,” Conah retorted.
“Fine, I’m concerned, and so should you be. She’s broken. You know it, I know it. She’s the only one that doesn’t realize it.”
Wait, were they talking about me? Broken?
“It’s not that big of a deal.” Conah didn’t sound too sure, though. “We’re all broken in some way. Better to be oblivious.”
“Are you insane? Do you know how much power it takes to do what she—”
“Hush!”
Shit, they knew I was out here. I walked in. “What did I miss?”
Mal didn’t look at me; his attention remained on Conah, lip curled. “I’m out.” He strode from the room without even looking at me. A far cry from the demon of an hour ago who hadn’t been able to take his eyes off me.
Good riddance.
Conah drained his glass, giving me a moment to check him out in his clubbing clothes. He’d paired a navy shirt, sleeves rolled up, with dark denim and boots. His golden hair was brushed back off his forehead, but I was transfixed by the bob of his throat as he swallowed. It was a sexy throat. He finally looked at me and smiled. But his eyes remained troubled.
“Ready to go?” he asked.
I didn’t like this weird feeling between us. “Is everything all right?”
He glanced at the door. “Nothing for you to worry about.”
I wanted to confront him about his conversation with Mal, to ask if they’d been arguing about me, but intuition warned me not to press.
Instead, I fixed a bright smile on my face. “Mal said my dagger arrived?”
“Yes, we can work on dagger use tomorrow.” He held out his hand. “We should go.”
I did enjoy holding his hand, even if it was brief. I slipped my palm into his and allowed him to draw me close, reveling in the scent he was wearing today, citrusy and fresh.
Do not sniff him, Fee. “You know, we need to address how I’m going to get to and from the underworld soon? You can’t be my escort forever.”
“I can’t?” His tone was suddenly playful, and my pulse leaped.
But then the world splintered, taking my concerns with it.
* * *
Music pressed in on me, vibrating through me as I made my way across the club. Conah was right behind me, his hand on the small of my back, sending tingles through the thin fabric of my halter-neck. Focus, Fee. I scanned faces, looking for the chestnut-haired guy who’d led Peiter to his doom.
No sign of him.
We combed the club three times, and Conah made sure he was touching me all the time. A hand on my elbow, at the small of my back. Fingers twined with mine in an intimate handhold. Fuck, I was too old for this tummy flutter shit, but damn, it felt good.
After the third sweep, he brought me to a halt by a set of steps that led to a cute balcony looking down on the dance floor.
“I’ll grab a couple of drinks,” he said. “Meet me up on the balcony. We can view the club from there.”
While pretending to lounge with drinks. Good plan. I watched him melt into the crowd, well, not completely, because he was a head taller than most of the people in the club and drawing a shit load of attention because let’s face it, he was gorgeous, and I was so doomed.
If I were a cartoon character, my heart would be beating out of my chest. With Lucas, the attraction had crept up over time, but with Conah, it smashed me in the face every time we were together. The attraction to Conah was different from my physical attraction to Mal because I actually liked Conah. When it came to Mal, my body was a fucking traitor. Pheromones were fuckers. I tore my gaze from Conah and raked it over the dance floor and its bopping inhabitants before heading up the steps to get a better look.
A couple canoodled on the cushy seats at the back. Ignoring them, I took a spot at the barrier looking down on the dance floor. Had we missed our guy? What if he wasn’t a regular? What if this had simply been a one-off meeting place. This was a long shot, and both Conah and I knew it. Speaking of Conah, there he was, at the bar ordering drinks.
He looked up as if sensing my regard, and our eyes locked. Okay, maybe they didn’t lock. I mean, he was pretty far away, and I was standing in the gloom of the balcony, but it felt like he could see me, but then he turned back to the bartender.
I focused on the crowd again. Where are you, clue number one? A group of guys caught my eye. Four of them dressed almost identically. They stood at the edge of the dance floor, but their attention wasn’t on the dancers, it was on the bar. I followed their gaze to Conah. Wait, were they watching him?
The strobe lights slashed across their faces, painting them in blue and red, but it was their eyes that had me gasping—empty, dark pits in their faces. Couldn’t other people see it? What the hell? Wait … No, their eyes were fine now.
I had to warn Conah. Something wasn’t right. I pushed away from the balcony.
“Hello again.” A rumbly, gravelly voice caressed my senses.
My breath was already coming shallower as I turned to face the husky-eyed, golden-haired guy from the other night. He was standing a few feet away from me, hands loose at his sides, posture relaxed, but my instincts warned me he was ready to pounce. Heat simmered to life in my veins, sudden and desperate, and a weird clawing sensation bloomed to life in the pit of my stomach.
Where had that come from?
He was huge. How had I forgotten how large he was, how broad-shouldered, and that face … Chiseled, brutal, and feral … I took an involuntary step toward him, and he sucked in a sharp breath, just like the last time. The last time, when I’d touched him.
Would he moan if I touched him again? My brain was fuzzy but focused at the same time.
No, this wasn’t real. This was him. His feelings being pushed onto me. He was attracted to me, and I was picking that up like a radio station.
I really needed to learn to shield and fast. Focus, Fee. I stood taller, battling the urge to bridge the gap between us, to climb his body, wrap my legs around him, and claim his mouth with my tongue. I curled my hands into fists, nails biting into my palms. I needed to get away from him before I did something stupid and totally out of character. Seriously, he needed to stop thinking sexy thoughts.
“Don’t run,” he ordered.
My body froze on his command. What? Hell, no.
He took another step. My breath twisted in my throat, my lungs tight with fear and anticipation. My body throbbing with a need I didn’t understand. Okay, I did understand it, but what the fuck? Who was this guy? Intense was an understatement.
And then a shadow blocked his path, cutting me off from him. Cutting the invisible strings that bound us.
Conah. Thank the pastry gods!
Chapter Eighteen
I sagged against the railing, free of the strange compulsion to lick the stranger. I guess being confronted by Conah had put a damper on the guy’s libido. My body was my own again, still simmering with the aftereffects of whatever the fuck that guy was feeling, but not as intensely.
“Back off, Grayson,” Conah said. “Find another conquest. She’s with me.”
“With you?”
“Peiter’s replacement.”
“A Dominus … a demon?” He sounded confused.
“Yes, a demon,” Conah replied. “You need to work on your sense of smell.”
“There is nothing wrong with my sense of smell.” He sounded perplexed.
I peered around Conah’s bicep, and Grayson locked gazes with me, his dark brows drawn in confusion.
Conah’s body rippled with tension. “We’ll be leaving now.”
Grayson inclined his head, but his eyes—those fucking piercing eyes—remained fixed on me.
Reaper Unexpected: Deadside Reapers book 1 Page 13