Slash's face whips to Adrianna, heart crammed in his throat. “Are you with whelp?”
His beast roils so strongly that Slash feels gorge rise.
Adrianna nods numbly, rubbing her hands up and down her bare arms. “I'm sorry, Slash,” she says in a small voice.
“Do not be.” He turns his face to Della. “You should be ashamed.”
The witch nods. “I should be, and so should you, taking a barely out-of-whelp female and filling her with seed.”
Guilt slays Slash. Those were his exact thoughts on mating with Adrianna. But he loves her, and she him. And now she bears his whelp.
The witch pokes Adrianna in the side with a crude wooden stick.
A howl bursts from his body, and the skin of his face splits. Slash gnashes his teeth, spitting and chomping at the one who would hurt Adrianna.
“Possibly,” she strokes the side of Adrianna's head, and his mate jerks away from the touch. Della grips her hair, yanking her next to her side.
Adrianna screams.
Slash goes wolfen, and Della smiles.
Adrianna reaches behind her, trying to claw at the hands holding her. “She's forcing you, Slash. She tempting your beast!” Adrianna screams in warning.
The witch whips Adrianna around by the hair, and she bites her lip to keep from screaming again, drawing blood.
“After four centuries in this house, I no longer care how my salvation presents itself, or who pays the price for it. I. Will. Be. Free.”
With a mighty shake, she throws Adrianna at Slash.
He strains against the bindings to get to his mate.
Adrianna rolls in a clumsy dive, landing in a pile at his feet.
Crawling to him, she sits up on her knees, wrapping her arms around his thighs, her face against his hip. “Slash,” Adrianna cries.
Moon help me.
“Kill him.”
Slash's face jerks to the witch.
Adrianna turns to look at Della. “I can't—he's my mate.”
“I told you what I would do if you did not.”
Slash gazes down at the female he loves more than his next breath. “What did she tell you?”
“That she'd rip our baby from my body.”
Slash has never wanted to murder more than he does at this moment.
Della walks slowly to where Slash hangs. An unbidden growl splits his lips, which are misshapen in wolfen form because of the scarring that bisects his face.
From behind her back, Della produces a large knife.
Slash stiffens.
“Kill him, Adi.”
Adrianna shakes her head. “No. I've loved him since I was a whelp. I'm not killing Slash!”
Her tears singe him.
Slash shuts his eyes, his decision made. If he acts now, there's a chance Adrianna will live.
“She's right,” Slash says, opening his eyes. “Kill me so you can live.”
“No!” Adrianna screams, clasping her hands together. “I'll never do it.”
Slash looks at Adrianna. “Pick up the knife, mate.”
“Don't make me, Slash.”
He gives her a gentle smile. “Harsh choices, my mate.” Slash feels the power of being an Alpha Red wash from him to her.
His will strikes her like a whip of fire.
“No,” Adrianna says, but with less force, her body bowing under the power of his command.
“Yes!” Della hisses in triumph.
“Pick up the knife,” Slash says.
Adrianna does.
The witch strolls forward, a smug expression affixed to her sharp features as she watches Adrianna climb his body with the fingertips of her left hand, kissing his flesh as she does, her right hand wrapped around the hilt of the blade.
Slash's body chooses that moment to get an erection as his mate licks the blood from his arms and torso. He's helpless to stop the involuntary reaction of his body when Adrianna is poised to slay him. Her nearness is still an aphrodisiac to his beast.
Even now.
She raises the blade. Her beautiful hazel eyes glimmer with fire like banked embers, flakes of green shimmering within.
Adrianna spins, flicking the long blade of the knife out and slashing it from left to right.
Della attempts to gasp, flailing backward.
Her throat opens like a second mouth. The white of the deep cut fills with blood.
She chokes, struggling to speak.
Adrianna raises the knife a second time, piercing the witch's eye socket with a blade now coated in blood.
The witch staggers back, and Adi leaps on Della's body, riding it to the ground. Yanking the blade free from the orb as they land together, Adi stabs her.
In the heart.
Slash closes his eyes.
His command was direct and comprehensive. Adrianna should not have been able to resist his compulsion.
Adrianna stands, Della's dying body beneath and between her legs, gore covering her arm to nearly the elbow.
She turns and smiles at Slash.
The expression is full and uninhibited. Adrianna quarter-changes, running to him and holding the blade high. For one, horrible moment, Slash thinks she means to end him.
She leaps, and with an ear-shattering howl, Adrianna sweeps the blade down, slicing through the silver tether that held his body in place.
He drops, gasping on the floor, and immediately sits upright.
But he's not too weary to catch Adrianna as she flings herself at him, weeping as though pieces of her are breaking.
Slash holds his mate, grateful to the moon for their lives.
And the life of his future whelp.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Laz
Tessa's expression changes from open and soft to hard and surprised before Laz can blink.
“What?” she says in a loud voice, bouncing to her knees beside him.
“Offspring,” Laz repeats with a slight frown. He tries to take her question seriously, but really, her nudity is a huge distraction. Her large breasts, perfectly formed and begging for a male's touch, sway as she rests her rear on top of her heels.
Tessa folds her arms, glaring at him.
Not the reaction he wanted after their first interlude.
When Laz is nervous, he steams. Now, if that were to occur in his natural environment of Hades, it would hardly be noticeable. And while he wore his human “suit,” he could have hidden it then, as well.
As the humans say: there's no such luck. Laz has just filled his need with his Redemptive and has been stripped of falsehoods, physical or otherwise. He wears no suit—no armor which to pierce. He is bare before Tessa, as it should be.
He rises also, lightly touching her shoulder. She tenses.
“Tessa,” Laz says, running a hand from shoulder to wrist then prying her fingers apart. “What troubles you?”
She huffs, gently withdrawing her hand. “Nothing really. Except the assistance and cooperation Drek would give us hangs in the balance, Tahlia is gone. I just mated with the devil—”
“I'm not a devil.” Laz frowns. “I'm a high demonic.”
Tessa rolls her eyes. “You're not Lycan.”
Laz's lips give an amused twitch. “No. I am not.”
She nods and continues, “And now you lay it on me that I'm going to have a hotdog after all.”
Laz’s shoulders shake with laughter.
Tessa hits him. “Stop that,” she hisses. “It's not funny.”
“I will never be bored with you, Tessa.” Laz smirks.
“That's assuming we stay together.”
Lazarus stares so long and hard at Tessa that she eventually studies her folded hands instead of his face.
“I have found my Redemptive. The female that was made for me in this realm. It is so rare that there isn't anyone who has spoken to a demonic who actually had it happen. It's been purely legend. Until now.”
“Until now,” Tessa repeats softly, picking a single piece of black hair off her bare thi
gh and letting it fall to the floor.
He covers the hand that rests on her leg, greedily eating up her beauty. “Tessa...” Laz's other hands comes to rest at the back of her head, feeling the dampness of her hair from her recent shower. “Drek has retired some of the Lanarre's precepts. Tahlia is her own keeper.”
Tessa opens her mouth as though she'll refute his words, and he presses a fingertip to her lips.
She smiles beneath his touch.
“That's better,” Laz leans forward and stations his hands at the small of her bare back, rolling his lips against hers, and slowly, her hands creep around his neck. “You mated with a high demonic of mixed blood, and even now, you might carry my offspring. Is it not a wonderful potential to be pregnant?”
She sighs, nodding against his forehead.
“Then why are we talking about you birthing a hotdog?”
Tessa sits down on the bed, crossing her legs, and Laz gazes at her sex. Delicate, pink, and wet. His mouth waters at the sight.
“Perv,” she says with a light voice, touching his chin.
“Pervert?” Laz asks, quirking a brow.
Tessa nods, but he's glad for the smile that graces her face, instead of the sadness and irritation of before.
Laz lifts a shoulder. “Let me stare at you.” His fingers run down all the surfaces his eyes did moments before.
Her nipples pebble from his touch along the sides of her breasts, and Laz instantly dips his head, circling one of them with his tongue.
“Laz,” she mumbles.
“Hmm,” he says against her hot flesh.
“We should stop. You've sated my heat. The fire of my body is cool.”
Laz releases her flesh softly and covers her flat stomach with his hand. “And may your womb be filled with our child.”
“Moon, Laz—” Tessa says, clearly frustrated.
Lazarus thinks that females are all fairly similar. Instead of wasting time with words, Laz shows.
Putting both hands on her face, he draws Tessa to him, kissing first her forehead then each eyelid before trailing his mouth down her face. He pauses to flick his tongue where his lips just were.
When he finally reaches her mouth, she's putty in his hands.
“Tessa?” Laz asks.
She nods. “I was really caring about all the hotdog stuff a second ago.”
He presses another soft, wet kiss against her pliant mouth. “And now?”
Tessa opens her eyes, and her gray irises are so light, they appear nearly translucent.
“No shits given. If this is how a male will treat me, you could be a Martian, and I'd say yes.”
Martian? Puzzling expression. “Yes to what?”
Tessa lifts her head from his hand, and he releases his hold, studying every micro-expression she has.
“To being your mate.”
Laz grins. “You were always my mate, because you are my Redemptive, Tessa.”
“So you weren't going to officially mate me?”
Laz is feeling the undercurrent of feminine anger and is very much out of his element.
“I can't ask what I already know. If you stay with me, we are ʻmated,ʼ as you put it. But in the realm of Hades, a partnership is typically different. Males claim female demonic.”
“Oh. My. Moon.” Tessa hops off the bed. “Claim?” she says loudly, crossing her arms again.
A foreign emotion fills Laz. Helplessness. His Redemptive is angry. He'll have to think quickly.
Slowly, Laz gets off the bed and approaches Tessa cautiously.
“No... you—” She wags her finger as he draws nearer.
Laz does not slow.
“Stay back. Whenever you get within a foot of me, my brains slip out my ears.”
He smiles. It's involuntary, considering Tessa's staring at his cock. He grasps himself as he strolls toward her, and he thickens at the sight of her.
“Mother of Moon, look at you.” Tessa's arms fall by her sides.
Laz wraps his arms around her. “I can't feign how gorgeous you are, how much I love you, how in Hades—it would not be as it is here, Tessa.” He meets her angry eyes, where swirling clouds of gray like a gathering storm darken the irises.
“How can you love me? We don't even know each other.”
Laz gazes down at her. “I know all that I need to. And you will be the mother of my offspring.”
“Well”—Tessa shoves her hair behind her shoulder, crouching and ducking from Laz's hold—“we'll be outlaws then. A Lycan female choosing to be with something other than another Were? With as few female Were as there are? Pfft.” She paces away.
Laz admires her fluid grace. Even angry, Tessa is beautiful.
She spins to face him, and Laz makes a monumental effort to look at her face instead of visually exploring her. Tessa consumes him.
She laughs. “You're obviously trying not to stare at my goods.” Tessa puts her hands on her hips.
“Ah... they're very good.”
Tessa smiles then shakes her head. “Oh hell, Laz—what are we going to do?”
Laz doesn't approach her this time. “We leave. Drek gave us a day of shelter, but I believe the longer we stay within sight of the Lanarre, the more they'll feel as though we're rubbing their noses in our union.”
“No shit,” Tessa comments. “Are you sure about this Redemptive stuff?”
He doesn't hesitate with his response. “Utterly.”
Tessa shivers, cupping her elbows, and Lazarus can stand it no more. He walks to her side, grasping her upper arm. “Tell me.”
She bites her lip and releases it just as quickly. “I can't help but think that even though you did Praile in, the threat's not gone.”
Laz stares at the floor, inhaling deeply, then pulls her against his body. Hugging Tessa to him, he briefly rests his chin on top of her head.
“I'm not sure how adept I can be in hiding from the Master.”
Tessa looks up at him. “Master?”
“The Dark Master—Lucifer,” he qualifies in a low voice.
Her eyes round, she shakes her head gently. “I just can't get over that there's a real devil.”
Laz chuckles. “I am living proof.”
Her eyes sweep him. “Right. But you just got done telling me that you're a high demonic?”
He sees where it could be confusing. “I am. Though I'm of demonic blood, I am not of the devil.”
She twists her lips. “A girl could get hang-ups with talk like that.”
He rapidly digests her words, spitting out the rough translation of an answer. “It's a complicated way to say that I'm not the sum of my parts. I am from Hades, lived there. Tortured there.”
Tessa flinches, but Laz won't sugarcoat his role there. He was second only to Praile. The great portion of their duties was to cause misery.
Now Tessa has made an alternate future possible.
“But now you're here.”
He nods.
“What if more high demonics come looking for you?”
Laz won't lie. He doesn't want to. “It is a concern. Yet, that possibility isn't sufficient enough from seeking the existence I want.”
He grabs her hands. “Tessa, I've been given a rare chance”—his eyes lock on to hers, holding her stare prisoner—“and it can't have been for nothing. There must be a reason why I am able to have a Redemptive and that I found you.”
Cupping the side of her face, he continues, “Let us try. If you think there is something here that's real, then meet me halfway and let's exhaust what could be, instead of worrying about what might be.”
Lazarus waits through a full tortuous minute before Tessa nods.
It's the best thing he's ever witnessed: her willingness.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Jenni
Jenni holds up the spoon, where a sliver of Banana Split Tom and Jerry's still clings, clearly mocking her ability to finish.
She studies it for a nanosecond then licks the cold metal clean.
&nbs
p; Flavors too varied to begin to separate slather her tongue, and Jenni kicks her head back and sighs.
I could get used to this werewolf business. Especially in the taste bud department. “That's so decadent,” she comments, nearly slurring her words.
Jenni lifts her head from the back of the couch, surveying the punishment she gave Devin's refrigerator.
There's not a crumb left.
“You can sure eat!” Ella says, giving a delighted clap. “I don't have any Tigger flakes left.”
“Frosted Flakes, Ella,” Devin corrects.
“Tigger!” she yells, then grins, revealing small baby teeth.
I wonder what my teeth look like now?
Jenni stands, carefully sets her spoon inside the sink, and makes her way to the bathroom.
She knows where it is because she can scent the used menstrual pads from the family room. Totally gross, but true.
“Hey!” Devin calls, chasing after her.
“Just going to get that shower going,” Jenni says. But really, now that she's got a few hours of sleep under her belt and the bowels of the fridge has been emptied, Jenni's ready to see what she looks like.
“Oh! Right.”
Jenni steps into a cramped, dated bathroom space that's as clean as a whip. Avoiding the mirror, she opens the cheap door to the shower stall. The glass shivers inside the cheap frame as she swings wide. Turning on the hot water full blast, she turns and inhales deeply.
Jenni gazes at the stranger in the mirror.
She doesn't look like the monster she was expecting, sprouting hair from every orifice.
Jenni doesn't know what she anticipated looking like. Not this.
Lifting her lip, Jenni inspects her teeth. She's brushed and flossed them three times a day since forever. It's a subtle difference, but her canines are a little longer.
Whiter.
And Sharper.
She extracts the finger holding her upper lip and lets her hand fall to her side.
The biggest change is her hair.
Before chemo, Jenni had rich, naturally dark-brown hair that matched her eyes. She always assumed her little bit of Italian heritage helped her along in that area. Once her hair returned after the chemo, she tried to dye it back to her natural color. But as everyone who uses hair dye knows, it's so much darker when first applied. The dye on Jenni’s pale, baby-fine hair quickly faded to an unattractive sickly looking color.
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